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• How old are you? What's your gender? Give us a general description of yourself.
Female, early 30s. Software engineer, raised in the Midwest and now live on the West Coast. Majored in English in college but took random math & CS classes throughout school. Before software, I worked in publishing and had a job managing publication schedules, which I haaaaaated— too detail oriented and I just fundamentally didn’t care.
I always thought I was “uncreative” and avoided the arts, thought I wanted a science career, until I was about 16 and started discovering my own, more structured creativity type. Thus I enjoyed studying literature as I could explore a lot of related disciplines and fold them all into an argument based on a piece or pieces of text. Enjoyed constructing an argument in that way. Enjoyed psychoanalytic theories of literature.
• Is there a medical diagnosis that may impact your mental stability somehow?
Have been diagnosed with depression and anxiety. It’s mostly under control now, though of course I still struggle. Have considered that I’m ADHD or mildly autistic. Now that Asperger’s is no longer a diagnosis and I’ve learned more about ASD, I doubt I would be diagnosed for real.
• Describe your upbringing. Did it have any kind of religious or structured influence? How did you respond to it?
Very free range childhood. Many younger siblings (I was oldest). Grew up in a rural area where people would hunt, fish, etc. but I was never outdoorsy. Preferred sitting on the floor of my messy room reading. I loved reading The Babysitters Club (loved that there were so many different personalities, different books were written from different characters’ POVs, and I could “learn” about people through them), Encyclopedia Brown and the Cam Jansen books (detective children’s lit). I loved funny things, especially cartoons, and when I was a young kid (pre-Internet) I would keep notebooks where I’d write down the funniest jokes and quotes in the notebooks while watching TV. (Where they are now, I have no idea... ) I had a lot of neighbors for a rural place and would play with the neighbor kids, though I never closely bonded with them. I used to do my older neighbor’s math homework for fun (oops).
I had one best friend through all of school (a guy), and we were EXTREMELY close. We would rarely talk about feelings or social life, just had very similar taste in ideas, comedy and culture. LOVED pacing around the playground together at recess coming up with absurd storylines and jokes and talking about our favorite things (James Bond movies, Nintendo games, Nickelodeon cartoons like KaBlam!). Two of our favorite hangouts were 1) weekend long sleepover where we’d rent movies like Air Force One or Leslie Nielsen comedies and watch them repeatedly, 2) watch the vintage Nickelodeon Games and Sports channel for hours cracking jokes about the hosts and contestants. People always assumed we would eventually date but we would joke that if we had kids they were turn out sterile because we were so romantically disinterested in each other. Pure brain connection, though we would very occasionally discuss our feelings of sadness or longing for things as teens (to be involved in a subculture, dating woes, etc.)
• What do you do as a job or as a career (if you have one)? Do you like it? Why or why not?
Software engineer. It’s not a perfect fit for me as it requires a lot of business alignment, but the periods where I can get lost for 2-3 weeks designing and prototyping and then implementing things to my standards are my favorite and very rewarding, don’t feel like work. I like reading about software design and software design principles in my free time.
I’ve had a million jobs throughout high school, college and young adulthood. Always hated anything administrative or support, hated project management of any kind. (Deadlines!! Procedures! Augh!!) Tended to flit from job to job because I was not interested in doing anything long term or having seniority.
Didn’t mind jobs with social interaction if it was brief and straightforward and jokes were permitted (bank teller, cashier) but hate jobs where team bonding and chemistry is a big emphasis. I don’t mind having short, pleasant interactions with people but just do not want to have a long-term, deep relationship with people I work with day after day. Tried waitressing and bartending since I didn’t mind being a bank teller but it was too far on the social/outgoing side and I didn’t last long.
• If you had to spend an entire weekend by yourself, how would you feel? Would you feel lonely or refreshed?
Refreshed! I love spending the weekend by myself. I live with my boyfriend in a small apartment and treasure the times he goes out to do his own thing, so I can play my podcasts, do projects alone, etc. I take a bubble bath twice a week as “me time” even though... basically my whole life is “me time.”
• What kinds of activities do you prefer? Do you like, and are you good at sports? Do you enjoy any other outdoor or indoor activities?
Always hated and was bad at sports. In school I’d go to the back of the line in softball pretending I already batted so I wouldn’t have to embarrass myself. Super slow runner. Generally awkward. The only sport I was ever good at (and I was pretty good, beat a couple of male jocks and they got furious about it) was badminton.
As an older adult, I’ve convinced myself to do exercise and sport for my health. I used to run (loved it because I didn’t need anything but shoes and could go anytime). Now I do Pilates, but plan to do more running. I enjoyed spin class pre-pandemic. Anything I can do basically on autopilot and with minimal preparation or equipment I tend to like.
• How curious are you? Do you have more ideas then you can execute? What are your curiosities about? What are your ideas about - is it environmental or conceptual, and can you please elaborate?
Very curious. At work my biggest issue is wanting to research everything down to the last detail in lieu of actually executing. I like to know things. I have a lot ideas, much less execution. As a kid I loved Rube Goldberg machines (always wanted to make one to gather together my stuff in the morning for school) and electronics but never built them or played around with Legos or anything. Preferred to draw diagrams if I did anything at all. (In fact, draftsmanship was my favorite part of wood shop in high school.)
Tend to be a very high or very low performer based on whether something sparks my genuine interest. Bad at faking interest or being disciplined to study things I’m not interested in.
My ideas tend to be about human nature, psychology and art, especially film. Definitely conceptual. I like esoteric things and watched a lot of independent movies in my teens. Love David Lynch for the way he explores a theme or idea repeatedly from different angles. Love Cronenberg, Kubrick, and Michael Mann. In literature I have gone through phases with different authors including Nathaniel Hawthorne, Philip K Dick, Richard Yates, Willa Cather, and others. Like musing in issues of human motivation, evil, the unconscious. Went through a big Freudian phase, a Marxism phase. It wasn’t that I agreed with either of them 100% but loved their systematizing approach to human nature and society. Enjoyed studying political philosophy in school for the same reason.
I’m drawn to certain topics in science and math but they have to be a balance of not too applied, not too abstract. For instance, I’m drawn to algorithms and algorithm design and information theory. I love the elegance and power of both. I used to joke I wanted to learn more physics because as a very lazy person, I’m a big fan of the simple machines (for the same reason, elegance and power). I tend to like tools that follow the same principle... love an excuse to use a rotary ratchet. I like putting together IKEA furniture and find it soothing, but don’t generally like woodworking because I’m too paranoid and perfectionist and it becomes stressful and OCDish for me. (Maxims like “measure twice, cut once” become “measure fifteen times, procrastinate cutting...”).
I like cooking, but not elaborate things. My boyfriend and I are vegan and my favorite thing is to find a way to veganize a dish I used to eat or find a substitute for an ingredient I don’t have on hand. We get a CSA box and I love coming up with ideas for what to do with each ingredient and making a plan, even if I don’t always execute.
(Vegan for the following reasons, in descending order of importance: animal welfare, simplification of cooking/food decisions, health & weight management, environmental concerns.)
• Would you enjoy taking on a leadership position? Do you think you would be good at it? What would your leadership style be?
No! I hate it. My boyfriend and I are trivia buffs and regularly come in first place at our local bar trivia despite being a two-person team. Recently at work, we did a trivia game and no one wanted to be captain... so I volunteered... and we came in last. I just couldn’t juggle leading the team, thinking, and being thorough and precise at the same time!
If I have to lead, my style is very laissez-faire... I’ve had interns in the past and it usually goes “here’s a problem, figure it out on your own, check in with me once a week and I’ll give feedback, then go do it and ask me questions as necessary.” I liked helping to build their confidence but really hated the process of guiding them beyond just giving them honest feedback when they came to me with ideas.
• Are you coordinated? Why do you feel as if you are or are not? Do you enjoy working with your hands in some form? Describe your activity?
Nope. Thus the badness as sports. However, hand-eye coordination is great and that’s why I’ve enjoyed badminton and ping pong, they require little strength and overall body coordination as a beginner. Working with my hands... like I said, I like assembling or fixing things (esp. coming up with clever fixes) but not so much building something from scratch. I like the meditative simplicity of cutting veggies when I cook. I do Pilates precisely because strength and mind body coordination are lacking for me.
• Are you artistic? If yes, describe your art? If you are not particular artistic but can appreciate art please likewise describe what forums of art you enjoy. Please explain your answer.
I wrote more above, but my favorite art forms are literature, then film, then visual art, then music, in that order. I find it insanely hard to connect with music and generally like music that’s more meta, ironic, dark, humorous or conceptual (Johnathan Richman, Steely Dan, and loved Weird Al growing up).
In literature I like dark themes, intrigue, psychological content. Off the top of my head, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Patricia Highsmith, John Fowler, John LeCarre. In more fun reading, I love detective and spy stuff, including Sherlock Holmes. Also have a love/hate relationship with Stephen King. I read a decent amount of nonfiction, mostly about war and military history.
In film I like Kubrick, Lynch, Cronenberg, and have called all my favorite director at one time or another. I like Welles for how well he can represent dreamlike reverie. I love Michael Mann, esp Manhunter and Thief, two of my all time favorite movies. In pop culture I like the Bond movies, love Al Pacino.
• What's your opinion about the past, present, and future? How do you deal with them?
Oof. The past is often a source of pain and regret for me; I have some overactive guilt. A painful thing for me growing up was being parentified and overfunctioning a lot (many younger siblings, divorced parents) even though I’m not very inherently responsible or dutiful. I do tend to get nostalgic about things I was into growing up (silly things like favorite candies that aren’t made anymore, favorite cartoons, etc.)
In the present I focus a lot on balance, keeping myself in check (tendency to not clean, to daydream and not focus on work, to get overwhelmed when I have too many expectations on me). I need to have fun a lot to stay on track, though for me “fun” is not the outgoing type of fun (so ordering takeout, reading a great book, bubble baths, video games). I tend to automate and systematize parts of my life and personal care that bore me and that I would normally avoid. (Things like what to cook, when to wash my hair, etc.) I usually have to pair stuff I hate with stuff I like to get it done. (Playing a funny podcast while I cook or clean, etc.)
The future tends to stress me out, honestly. Like I said, I’m in my early 30s and deciding whether I want kids is a big question. I’ve never felt particularly maternal, but was surprised when my nieces and nephews were born how strongly I felt toward them, so it’s made me question what will really fulfill me. I’m not great at planning or sticking to plans. Tend to make decisions in the moment... for instance, I’d find it very stressful and difficult to plan to buy a house (saving, figuring out what to look for), but if I go look at houses, I’m likely to fall in love with one right away and commit fast.
• How do you act when others request your help to do something (anything)? If you would decide to help them, why would you do so?
I generally feel overburdened when people depend on me a lot. But I don’t mind helping with things like... talking through a problem with an intern at work and kind of breaking it down into a decision tree to pick a solution. Sharing advice with someone that I heard from someone else. Or talking someone through what they want from a job, or a college. I like talking to first generation college students (or prospective students) about how to get ahead, which was an experience I went through. So I don’t mind helping people abstractly but generally don’t like helping to... set up for a party, or something like that. I will do it but feel stressed and can’t wait for it to be over.
• Do you need logical consistency in your life?
Haha. Well, somewhat. Hard to say what this really means, because I can be impulsive, but generally have a hard time defending a decision unless I can speak logically about it. I don’t always realize that though, and can go around and around questioning something and not being sure why I’m not comfortable until I realize I haven’t logicked it out. I tend to make “if this, then that” type decision algorithms for myself to model outcomes or expedite decision making. “If it’s sunny tomorrow, X is the best thing to do on our vacation, but if it’s cloudy we’ll do Y and reschedule X for the next sunny day. Should be easy because Z can be bumped regardless of weather, and X and Y are priorities over Z.” Stuff like this that drives my boyfriend and family insane looool.
• How important is efficiency and productivity to you?
Hmmmm. I am not especially productive, but do tend to prize efficiency. My boyfriend is very considerate of other people’s feelings, including mine, and will often ask 3-4 questions to build up to his main question/request, and I’m always saying things like “it would have been much more efficient to just ask the main question!” I like to “multithread” (not multitask) what I’m doing as much as possible— when cooking, I try to optimize each operation of the recipe for time (so if chopped veggies aren’t needed until after broth has simmered, definitely will put broth on to simmer and chop while waiting). This sometimes backfires when I pack too much in for efficiency’s sake and end up having to go into hyperdrive to make sure I don’t delay a step. An annoying habit I have is to ask boyfriend “if you knew we’d have to wait for X, why did you do Y first? Should have started X then did Y in the meantime.” Or saying, “You always ask me this, and the answer is always yes, you can stop asking for efficiency’s sake and I won’t be mad if someday you don’t ask and the answer is no.” He just gives me a knowing look at this point!
I am also obsessed with packing groceries efficiently in our cart and arranging our overpacked fridge like Tetris...
• Do you control others, even if indirectly? How and why do you do that?
As in the last question, I can be a bit picky and bossy about doing things efficiently and will be a bit controlling about that. I watched a sitcom recently where a girl was playing with her friend, and the mom came in to say she needed the girl for a sec, after which the girl said to her friend “you said you needed a bathroom break for number two... here’s your window.” Yeah, that is unfortunately me...
I tend to be fine with other people doing whatever they want to do, but I’m very independent, so if the decision affects me then I can get squirrelly. And I also pains me to watch others make decisions that appear to me guided by their low self worth, I always want to intervene and convince them to act in a way that places more value on themselves. I will definitely pull the “it’s illogical to act that way, it’s a lose-lose scenario!” type argument, which can make me seem bossy and out of touch.
• What are your hobbies? Why do you like them?
I have always struggled to articulate this but as I get older I see more clearly. Obviously, reading and watching films. Television, but I’m picky about what I watch. I tend to like highbrow or campy.
Food and food culture/history— I’m always surprised when someone doesn’t know as much about food as I do, because I don’t consider it a strong hobby (as a very casual home chef), but I obviously read about food more than I cook. I like reading about, for instance, how a typical middle class French family prepares and eats a meal, or the origin of the word “supper,” or learning about dishes from Eastern cultures that surprise me with unfamiliar ingredients or techniques. I like to make food that feels a bit experimental, rustic, or “magical,” like using chia or rice flour to create spongy texture, eating rice and green tea together as a soup (Japanese snack), creating Swedish breads and buns, making vinegar from leftover wine, making vegan cheese, etc. I don’t like the part of cooking that is about making big, elaborate, magazine-ready spreads and feasts. More about learning tricks and discovering new things.
I love logic puzzles and have taken LSAT practice quizzes for fun. I enjoy deduction. Going down information rabbit holes. Wine and beer tasting is fun to me, and I tend to intellectualize it and get obsessed with history and culture or wine/beewhatever. I like learning about process, like wine or beer making.
Trivia, as previously mentioned. Have been in trivia groups and leagues consistently for the last 15 years. Like Jeopardy!, playing Trivial Pursuit, etc. I tend to know a lot about a certain subjects and have huge general knowledge gaps elsewhere, whereas my boyfriend is a generalist with a great memory, so we make a good team.
I have tried crafting in the past and while knitting mindlessly can be a good destresser, I don’t enjoy the attention to detail required to make an actual thing that fits. I like decluttering my stuff, throwing things away lol. I like minimalism and streamlining unnecessary stuff and making things work for me, my way. For instance, I have a bunch of figurines from my nieces and nephews that I like to keep out to honor them, but I hate clutter and never dust. As a compromise, I bought a box of canned air so I could just blow the dust off them without needing to rearrange them each time, and then the dust gets vacuumed up later...
• What is your learning style? What kind of learning environments do you struggle with most? Why do you like/struggle with these learning styles? Do you prefer classes involving memorization, logic, creativity, or your physical senses?
I cannot take verbal instructions. Used to be a huge issue with my dad who would always want to tell me how to drive somewhere, or how to do something, and I’d nod my head and pretend to understand then go look it up myself. I prefer reading and learn a lot from doing, though I have to push myself into doing as it’s not my instinct.
I loved learning grammar in grade school and caught onto it right away. Loved foreign language classes for that reason, almost did linguistics. Enjoyed math but only some things— didn’t care to calculate compound interest, but loved solving optimization problems and writing proofs. I could be very very good at memorizing quickly under pressure, but without pressure... would simply not do it. In catechism I once memorized four prayers in 30 minutes so I could get a necklace a missionary brought from Panama, which I knew all week but forgot/procrastinated until the last minute. I would “impress” people by memorizing long strings of digits quickly. Was good at quiz bowl because I would remember a lot of random stuff, even if I had to be like “you know, the thing that caused the thing, and the guy was involved... “ until that jogged someone else’s memory.
• How good are you at strategizing? Do you easily break up projects into manageable tasks? Or do you have a tendency to wing projects and improvise as you go?
Another hmm. I am great at strategizing in my personal life and decision making, but at work I tend to jump in and wing it without a clear plan or direction. I would say I’m better at optimizing an existing system than coming up with one from scratch. I don’t like to change direction a lot, but I feel the need to explore a lot before coming up with a plan. Have to remind myself regularly that problem solving means breaking things into discrete pieces.. I will gladly solve small problems once they’re broken down, but writing the plan myself gives me anxiety as I feel I’m neglecting the big picture.
• What are your aspirations in life, professionally and personally?
Like I said above, I’ve always wanted a romantic partner but was never worried about getting married or having a family, until recently where it’s become a very real last minute thing. Never imagined my future wedding, just wanted someone (one someone!) to share things with. Used to have a vague idea I wanted to go into academia, but the politics of it kind of make me ill. If I have to put up with that stuff, would rather just work in the “real world” where I don’t take things too personally. (If it was my life’s work and not just a job, I’d be much more stressed about politics. Plus the way academia is so competitive is blechh.)
I have always loved cities and not minded apartment living (I don’t notice people around me much, can be alone in a crowd) but as I get older I might like to have a house and a yard somewhere isolated so I can nest a bit more and have space for projects like homebrewing.
I have a love/hate relationship with travel. Love experiencing new places and learning more about the world, but need a lot of R&R and a slow pace.
• What are your fears? What makes you uncomfortable? What do you hate? Why?
Huge social anxiety. I am self-conscious and aware that I come across as “weird.” Fear of looking silly or dumb. I hate dealing with macho guys who get off on making you look bad so they look cool.
I am made uncomfortable by a lot of things. Growing up, I was a tomboy and wore boys clothes. Hated uncomfortable or restrictive clothing. Was a picky eater, MUCH more adventurous now but still avoid gloppy or overprocessed things. I’m bothered by people who ask questions and don’t listen to the answer. Can’t stand being in a big group, bonding.
• What do the "highs" in your life look like?
This is hard for me to answer. Favorite memories are times being with all my siblings and making each other laugh super hard, same with friends and boyfriend. Achieving something, being recognized as smart or creative. (This applies to getting good feedback for solving a hard problem, or a time I won an award for poetry I wrote.) Giving a speech or presentation and getting good feedback. Feeling like I’ve done something difficult with a level of finesse. Having someone respond well to my ideas, in a “yes, and” way.
• What do the "lows" in your life look like?
Times I’ve hurt the feelings of people who trusted me, without realizing it. Times I’ve been bossy and insensitive in the past coming back to haunt me and make me feel like trash. Failing at something publicly or procrastinating and NOT pulling it off at the last second.
• How attached are you to reality? Do you daydream often, or do you pay attention to what's around you? If you do daydream, are you aware of your surroundings while you do so?
I daydream a lot. Can sit on the couch all day on a Saturday without feeling the need to do much. Very unaware of surroundings, having a tendency to look at the ground while walking around and totally zone things out.
• Imagine you are alone in a blank, empty room. There is nothing for you to do and no one to talk to. What do you think about?
Usually “what am I going to do about X?” where X is something that’s nagging at me. Whether it’s a problem at work, someone who beat me in an argument and it’s driving me insane, or some interpersonal dynamic. Trying to break it apart into pieces mentally and create a picture that makes sense to me.
• How long do you take to make an important decision? And do you change your mind once you've made it?
Not long. I have made big life decisions without much thought— things like transferring colleges, moving across the country for a job. Almost got married right after high school, but broke things off pretty fast. Joined a religion when I was 16, then quit after 6 months and never looked back. I do change my mind a lot. I don’t tend to make decisions I feel like I can’t back out of without a really urgent reason.
• How long do you take to process your emotions? How important are emotions in your life?
Takes awhile. Emotions are important to me as signals that something is wrong. It’s taken a long time, therapy, and a lot of reading for me to understand that my feelings are information I can use, and not to be ignored or shoved away, or mutated into guilt and self-torture. Emotions are like keys to a lock or puzzle pieces to me now. I am a problem-solver when it comes to bad juju. Often trying to help other people walk through their feelings, too.
• Do you ever catch yourself agreeing with others just to appease them and keep the conversation going? How often? Why?
With strangers, I am unlikely to pretend to agree or vocally disagree. I’ll say “hmm, interesting” or “oh mmm, I see” or something and avoid getting into it. With people I’m close to, I can be very opinionated to the point of hurting feelings and have to tamp it down a lot.
• Do you break rules often? Do you think authority should be challenged, or that they know better? If you do break rules, why?
I am afraid of breaking rules when it comes to the law— kind of paranoid, probably why I like Kafka and Highsmith and spy and detective stuff. When it comes to non-legal stuff, I will break rules regularly if the consequences are vague or unserious (in college I would skip requirements and try to get away with using other classes as a substitute, which often worked). But I don’t like to break rules that could hurt others (I am following all the pandemic guidelines, for instance.) I definitely have a skepticism about authority but also a concern for the common good, so I am not a total libertarian. I generally think authorities are bogus and authority is abused and mishandled.
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2020.07.24 16:38 wolf24Jul Bath house spy cam
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submitted by wolf24Jul to u/wolf24Jul [link] [comments]
2020.03.20 02:38 EricaShmericaOFF Bath house spy cam
Angela & Tony: Ang and Toe-knee met up with their overall-clad wedding planners. I couldn't pay attention to the wedding details, because I was too busy wondering if their overalls were part of a uniform. (Is it part of their marketing? "We are OVERALL the best wedding planners this side of the Mississippi!"). I also loved that they are planning to have a buddha statue down the aisle, to keep things zen, no doubt. Angela is rooting the bill and sparing no expense to make this Tony's dream wedding. Tony tells Angela he wants his ex prison bud Andre, the crack dealer, to be the best man. Let's be honest, ex crack dealers probably throw a hell of a bachelor party. Angela specifically did not want Tony going to a strip club, which is precisely what Andre3000 had in mind. They invite Tommy so he could earn his "take an ex con to the strip club" boyscout patch. That's when the cops busted in. Ok not the real cops, but two very rough looking strippers dressed as cops, and they hauled Tony off to the champagne room for a frisking. Tommy boy used his spy cam to take video of Tony and the awful strippers and sends it off to the bride to be. Angela comes stomping into the strip club like gangbusters and hauls Tony off to "time out". She claims to be rethinking the whole wedding, but I'm sure she left a deposit with Overalls and Overalls Incorporated, so she'll probably go through with it. Can't wait to see all of the details Tony picked out come together tomorrow night. Move over, David Tutera!
Lacey, Shane, & ShaJohn: Lacey and ShaJohn are riding in a car (though it's not explained where they were coming from) and ShaJohn is telling her she needs to let Shane bounce out on that trampoline he's been building for the last 2 episodes. Lacey feels torn between her two inmates, but is still very mad about Shane's infidelity before their wedding. She claims that she doesn't want to be intimate with ShaJohn until she ends things with Shane....guess she doesn't want to double dip. She arrived back to her house with Shane lounging on the bed, displaying his pit stains for all to see. He asks where she has been, and she again yells at him for cheating and begins packing his stuffing in a plastic bin. Shane tries to keep Lacey from kicking him out by saying how much he lives her, and mentioning all of his hard work building that trampoline for 2 weeks....but they head out the front door. Little did Shane know, ShaJohn was there, and you can spot the producer in the background probably making sure security is close by. Lacey better get the jello pit ready, looks like these two are ready to fight for their favorite inflatable doll!
Clint & Tracie: First things first; Why does the mailbox say "Skillz"? Ok now let's move on.... Clint is trying to break into his crack house through the garage, when Tracie let's him in through the front door. She seems completely tweaked out packing all of her clothes and antagonizing Clint. He tries to encourage Tracie to go to rehab but she said No.No.Nooo. .. Clint punched himself in the head 10 times in a row, which at this point can only do more good than harm. He then calls his mom to tattle-tell, "Moooom, Tracie's doing meth again and being a meanie-head!!" Clint's poor mother tries to plead with him to let go of Tracie and "shut it down", but Clint is addicted to his Goddess, and stays. They had a brief argument over who keeps Blazer, their dog, who Tracie had run off with previously (I'd be giving Blazer a hand sanitizer bath right about now, who knows where that poor dog has been). Tracie then brings up the fact that she had been pregnant with Clint's baby and had gotten an abortion. Though a very touchy subject, the crack den is no place for an innocent baby. They seemed to end the episode on a calmer note.
Brittany & Marcelino: Brittany is still upset after her fight with Marcelino, so she meets up with her prison girlfriend Amanda. It seemed like the only logical place to have a deep conversation about serious life issues, while pregnant, is in the back of a truck on the side of the highway outside of a state penitentiary. She tells Amanda about Marcelino lying, and how she won't let her kids grow up in the same situation she did. Before leaving their spot on the highway, Brittany screamed and made hand gestures to the inmates who were outside on recess to send greetings to her old bunkie, Sascha, who is serving a long sentence. After the roadside prison stakeout, Brittany goes home to talk with Marcelino in their cinderblock backyard. The talk goes well and they make up. He promises not to lie, and she promises not to throw beer in their marital bed.
Michael/Sarah/Ghettosuperstar Sarah/Megan MuhQueen/New Female Maria:
Sarah rolls up to the Days Inn lobby to confront Michael about standing up his Pretty Girl all day (and ya know, gloat to Maria that she slept with Michael, which he denies). Of course Maria starts right up, defending her spiritual husband, and gets in Sarah's face. Sarah leaves for awhile and let's Ghettosuperstar Sarah take the wheel. There's a lot of screaming, hand gestures, and fighting, so much so that the hotel manager comes out, trying to keep the peace and Michael started screaming in his face. It was the first time we've ever seen him show any sign of life behind that giant vacant forehead. He seemed to just spiral out of control from there. He was jumping and screaming "Nobody touch me", (social distancing before it was cool.....). Ghetto Superstar Sarah screams for Michael to get in the car, fearing he's going to get arrested if the cops come, but he leaves with Maria instead. Sarah is crushed. She has to go home to raise her mtherfuckin' kids without any mtherf*ckin crack. Back in the van with Maria, the gigolo life is catching up to Michael....he's got 99 problems and Maria's just one.
submitted by EricaShmericaOFF to loveafterlockup [link] [comments]
2019.05.15 16:44 percythepenguin Improved Giant List of Suggestions
2019.04.27 00:20 anonnonaanonnonaa Bath cam house spy
TL;DR is basically the title. I have very very probable reasons to suspect this, which is pretty much what’s explained below.
Additional info: We have been together for 2 years, lived together almost the whole time, own a house together, and have several pets together. I know we’re not married and some people might think that means we’re not that serious, but I’m serious. I am 100% invested in this relationship and he is my entire future. To the best of my knowledge, he feels the same way.
He is a recovering heroin addict. He has been on suboxone since I met him and we got together. And he hasn’t used recreational drugs since I’ve known him (again, to the best of my knowledge).
But recently there have been some signs that are very difficult to ignore or explain away.
Let’s start with mentioning that he takes 1-2hr long bathroom trips at home. He’s explained to me that the suboxone makes you constipated so he struggles on the toilet, plus he likes the alone time, and that’s where/when he will take his suboxone. That’s the first place he goes when we wake up, and I’ve found out that he takes a nap on the bath mat immediately after waking up and that’s another reason he takes so long. But I’ve also heard him moving around in there for a large portion of the time, not on the toilet or sleeping.
A while ago, I think towards the end of last year, I found a weird orange cap left on the bathroom sink. If you google “electrical wire caps” it looked similar to that. I asked him what it was and he claimed ignorance and said he found it on the floor at work. I thought he was being shady, but there wasn’t much I could do since I didn’t know what it was either. I think, though I’m not sure, I found another one after that but around the same time period.
Fast forward to a couple weeks ago. He walked by me as I laid on the couch and I poked at him, being goofy. I ended up poking his pants pocket and it made a crinkly plastic noise. I very casually asked what it was (I didn’t even suspect anything) but he refused to tell me. ”Don’t worry about it.” “It’s a surprise.(/s)” which of course made me worry a lot. He wouldn’t tell me that night, so I slept on the couch because I was upset. He wouldn’t tell me the next morning because he “didn’t wanna get into it right now.” So I told him to text me while he was at work so I could stop worrying about it and he wouldn’t have to deal with my reaction. He did, he sent me a long and convoluted story about how he ”found” an old bag of needles in the crack of doom between his drivers seat and the center console. He said he was going to throw them away (in a really dumb spot btw) but got complacent and hadn’t yet. Bullshit. A heroin addict fighting temptations on the daily doesn’t get complacent with needles in his pocket.
This was such a lie. Both of us have deep cleaned that vehicle many times, there’s no way those would’ve gone unnoticed. I called him out, he denied, I made him sleep at his parents house for a couple days. I had him tell me exactly where he threw the needles away, and I found them and threw them out somewhere else he didn’t know about. He eventually apologized over text and I caved and asked him to come back over, but we never really talked about it.
Then this morning happened. I found another orange cap on the bathroom floor. I recognized it this time. It was a cap that screwed onto/covered the plunger end of those same type of syringes I threw away. Maybe this cap could’ve been lingering from the bag a couple weeks ago. But that doesn’t explain the caps I found last year, before he “discovered” that bag of needles. He’s also still playing ignorant, claiming he doesn’t recognize the cap. I showed him the picture I took of the needles before I disposed of them to show it’s the same exact cap. He still says ”I don’t know.” He said he finds them in his pockets, which is also bullshit because I’ve done all of his laundry and check the pockets because he always leaves lighters and change in them, I’ve literally washed every article of clothing he owns.
I’m worried he’s shooting up his suboxone. He claims we’re going to talk about all this when I get home from work tonight, but I don’t believe he’ll be honest with me. He’s an addict, I don’t blame him for lying, I understand. And I wouldn’t even be mad at him for screwing up, I just need to know what’s going on.
So, now that you’re caught up on the gist of it: if he continues to deny it all when we talk tonight, is it justifiable if I put a little spy cam in the bathroom to see if he’s shooting up in there? I know it’s a huge violation of privacy, but his life could be at stake. Even if you forget about an overdose, he’s extremely prone to these infections that develop abscesses on his wrists and could get into his blood stream. He cannot be using needles. He’s already gotten this infection 6 times. I’m scared shitless and I don’t know of any other way to find out the truth.
TIA. Suggestions and criticisms welcome, but please be gentle because this is all fucking me up right now.
submitted by anonnonaanonnonaa to relationship_advice [link] [comments]
2018.05.01 22:06 BlankTheDank Bath house spy cam
For the past few years my dad has been getting on my nerves. Here is a list of a few of the things that he does:
He must always know what I’m doing. I could just be sleeping and then he comes into my Rome and ask me if I’m sleeping. Since I’m asleep I don’t respond. He then proceeded to wake me up and ask if I was sleeping.
He is really cheap. Like I’m in grade 11, guess how many times I’ve went shopping for clothes? Twice, even then he only buys the clothes that are on sale so I really don’t get a choice. Additionally he doesn’t believe in buying condiments, like all the ketchup in my house if from McDonalds.
He is always second guessing me. One day I decide to wear a nice shirt and I’m feeling good about myself, then he comments saying are you satisfied with the way your dressing, you should be wearing jeans. Or when it is 4:30 and he ask me if I want dinner. Like who even eats that early. And I can’t eat after dinner since he never buys snack food.
When it comes to homework I must tell him exactly what I have. Otherwise if when he checks on me doing homework and I’m doing something else he will freak out and call me a liar. When it comes to studying I can’t. If he sees me studying he expects me to do nothing but study until the day of my test. And he would quiz me to on every to see if I actually studied. Like the rest could be in a week but he expects me to be studying the entire week for 6 hours a day.
Is it normal for him to randomly shout out stuff. Like remember deez nuts. Multiple times throughout the day he will shout Got em. Or from the simpsons he would shout “WHO NEEDS A KWIK E MARK?” At the top of his lungs. Or when he sneezes he just sprays every where and the. Does this weird thing where he rubs us nose and makes a high pitch squeaking noise. That probably happens like once every 10 minuets. Or this one time I was playing games with my friend when he comes up to my friend and says “I’m going to take a bath now” like wtf I haven’t had a friend over in like 3 years now since I don’t want them to be weirded out by my dad.
Or when I finish up all my home work he will try his best to prevent me from using electronics. Like he wants to limit me to 30mins of screen time. He is like go take a bath now. Go do some pointless task. Go review for what you learned recently. He expects me to do this every day otherwise I’m not trying hard enough or something like that. And when I’m on my laptop in my room relaxing, he turns of the wifi to force me out even though I’m on top of my homework and studies. Like my teaches don’t assign much home work, but he expects like 2 hours of work a day. He is always talking about how back in his day. I’m like that is the past this is the future.
Another thing is that he is always barging in to my room and wanting to talk. I could be using my laptop in the middle of a game of PUBG when he forces me to have a full conversation with him. And when ever he walks by my room he opens my door and checks on me like I’m a little kid. And then he fully opens my blinds even though that makes the sun shine onto my laptop screen. Recently when I search for wifi I notice a baby cam signal which is weird since I don’t have any neighbours on either side of the house. I honestly think that he is spying on me.
TL:DR my dad controls every aspect of my life.
submitted by BlankTheDank to teenagers [link] [comments]
2018.03.22 01:27 Mach_XV Bath house spy cam
Part 1 here
We are a family of three members me, dad and mom. I’m 29 years old now and my dad is 56 years old and he died recently in an accident. And finally my lovely mom who is 52 years old her name is Vasantha Laxmi. My dad was a farmer and my mom was housewife. Both are not educated. But as we are upper middle class family we are doing fine. I was working as a software employee in Bangalore. This incident happens six months ago. As I was in Bangalore I received a call from home stating that my dad was killed in a road accident. So I have to come my village immediately. So I went to my village for a week on leave. Until now I didn’t had any bad thoughts on my hot mom. Even I study lot of incest stories on mom and son I just use it to masturbate only. I reached my remote village in Andhra Pradesh. I entered my home where my dad was laid in center and some ladies crying. I saw my mom in a so terrible situation. When she saw me she cried loudly and started to flow eye drops. I cried for him too. Later we completed all the formalities and everyone went to their home except one old lady who is a worker in our fields. Later she served me food and said that mom didn’t had anything since yesterday. So I took plate to my mom and she sat near dad photo. I offered her food and she was speechless. I convinced her and made her eat the food. Later I asked her to sleep, she didn’t move and I made her sleep and I went to my room. Morning I saw my mom in same position near dad’s photo. So our neighbors advised to take mom with me to Bangalore. I agreed to this idea as there is no one here for us. In the night I woke up for pee and accidentally saw my mom. Wowww what a sight it is her saree pallu was not in position it came off and her cleavage was so tempting. Sorry I forgot to describe her, she is 5.5 ft in height, her measurements are 36 32 38, she has wide ass. Then that night I couldn’t sleep. Then I decided to have her in my bed. Next day I said that I will leave for office and will come next week to take her off and asked our relatives to settle all the things. Now I came to Bangalore and rented a 2 bed room flat and purchased things needed. I was planning hot to grab her. Then I read many stories and watched movies. I decided to make her my slave for entire life. So I decided to disconnect all the connections with our village to mom and me. I also placed spy cams in all rooms of flat to enjoy her. Time came and I went to village for mom and she packed her things. Our neighbors bought our fields and home. I also prepared for LIC of my dad. I started driving and she was calm. She never went to any city so she was feeling scared and that feeling exited me more. She was in saree. I was observing her all the way. We reached home and she was surprised by the flat and the freshness there. She asked me why do we need such a big house. I said this is my room and that is for you. Shall I keep any servant for cooking and household works. She said no need. Then she was feeling new things there. The only time passing thing for her is the TV SERIALS. I kept watching her all day work through my cameras. I showed her her bedroom and she liked it. In fact she never thought about such luxurious. I also said that you need to change little bit to get used to this city. But she was not ready to change. Now I said her to get fresh. She went into her room and I went to my room and start viewing what my darling mom was doing. She is inspecting the room and she took her towel and went to bathroom by imagining what’s going on I was in cloud 9. Now she came into bathroom and she don’t know how to use shower etc. So she opened tap and starts to undress. I kept camera on the top so that only top view is visible. She removed her pallu and left whole saree down and next she removed her blouse, wowww she didn’t use bra her boobs were very cute and her nipples were brown in color. Her boobs were little saggy but I loved it, later she removed her gown and she was full nude. But from top angle I can’t get nice view of her bottom. But I started stroking my cock already. After bath she came to room in towel and she went to dressing table and watching her beauty in mirror. Now I got full view of her sexy body. Her pussy is so hairy so I can’t see pussy at all. Later she dressed and came to hall. Now I finished my session and came out. I said for today I will bring lunch and said to her to not open main door as we cannot trust anyone in cities. I brought food and we ate. This continued for 1 week and suddenly one day she started fingering her pussy and pressing her boobs at last she came and she satisfied herself. Later I bought some new nighties for mom. Now she is getting settle here and slowly forgetting dad. One day I got sleeping pill and I mixed this pills in juice and made her in deep sleep. Then I checked whether she slept fully or not and I confirmed that she is in deep sleep. Now I opened her nighty and I did something strange to her. It is I got my trimmer and cleaned her armpits neatly and again I dressed her. I want to fuck her while she is conscious next morning, she got shocked that her armpits were vanished. I was watching in my cam her expressions. I think she will ask me about this but she didn’t so I continued same next day. This night I trimmed her sweet pussy. Wow what a scene it is she has nice sexy lips, I controlled and waited for the next day reaction. Now she was upset with my progress and she yelled my name in anger so I went to her. She asked me what’s happening in this house. I said what happened. She got angry and said look only we two are in this house and I know you have done the things so come on what are you up to. I said mom I want to make you happy and modern and take all responsibility of you as a woman. She was upset and said that she will be leaving to village and ordered me to drop her. I got angry and said what happened to you now, is there anyone to fuck you there in village or what? She was shocked by my question and said what are you saying. Now I took her to my room and showed her masturbating video and asked her what is it. She shocked and began to weep and starts to request me to delete the video. I said mom you have no partner now and no one will communicate with you from village so you will enjoy my company. If u agree we will have new life as husband and wife. If not you will have tough situations ahead. She starts to weep, I went out saying that I will be back by 9 pm, if you are agreeing wear green nighty if not wear red nighty and went out. My heart is pumping so hard I hope same with my sexy mom too. I came back at 9 pm and she was in red nighty. I got angry and went straight to her and said so you are not agreeing. She said I’m your mother how can you ask me to be your wife. I will get you married and you can be happy with her. I then slapped her and said I only want you as my wife not others and dragged her to bedroom and through her on bed. She tried to shout loud and again I hit hard and said to stop. She kept low and started crying without sound saying I’m your mother you cannot have sex. I then said from today you are my slave not mom and ordered her to do whatever I say otherwise I will sell you to prostitution home. Decide yourself will you be my slave or slave for many men. She was shocked and nodded her head in acceptance. I again hit her on cheek and said you have to do whatever I order. She said ok. Good. Now I will ask you some questions you have to give correct answers. She said ok. I asked how many men fucked you up to now? She said only your dad. Who is more active in bed you or your husband? She said your dad is more active. How many times you have sex in week. She said in first we had daily but later it is just once in a week. Because your dad lost interest in sex. Which angle u like? She said what’s that. I said how did dad fuck you in home. She said him on top only one. Ok come-on I have some rules to you from now on. You have to do everything I say without a question. She said ok. Next you should not wear any cloth in house always be naked. Every morning you have to wake me up by giving blowjob. She said ok. From now on I will call you by name, by the way how did dad call you? She said VASU. from now I will call you as Vasu darling and you have to call me sir.
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2018.02.23 02:29 kaunis Bath house spy cam
2016.12.14 00:04 Turul___Madar Bath house spy cam
District VIII: Sub-Level 1
Most parts of District VIII were actually quite safe, most of the nastiness that was attributed to the district would occur in the sublevels, areas that the police had seen the folly of patrolling and had instead left the denizens of those levels to themselves. The surface level of the district had none of the nastiness of the sublevels, skyscrapers dotted the surface, standing tall amongst the rows of old and new buildings; standing among the older buildings that harkened back to the old monarchy while the newer buildings were a product of the galactic economy upon the city. The police always patrolled the surface level, mingling with the crowds that teemed with a colorful palette of species. The surface level of District VIII was well lit and well kept, plants were pruned and the sidewalks were kept clean. The streets glowed and pulsed with light.
Going down a single level would ,however, reveal an entirely different face to the city, an unfortunate side-effect to the city’s prosperity. The ten sub-levels were dark and musty, even the light from the sun didn’t venture that far down. Dim red and yellow lights marked filthy alleyways and streets, with both being indiscernible from the other at times. Of all of the sub-levels in the city the ones in District VIII were the worst. All other district sub-levels in the city were vastly different from the ones in District VIII, the other districts teemed with life and friendliness, local helping offworlder and offworlder helping local. In the other districts the sub-levels were nearly as desirable to live in as the ones on the surface. In District VIII, most of those who inhabited the sub-levels weren’t there by choice but by necessity for they were part of the darker edges of society, the edges that the average citizen, and even the local police force, would rather forget. And so, in a way to bring a sort of order to the wild west of the underworld, a deal had been struck. Certain activities by certain individuals and their enterprises would be….overlooked. Police actions were rare and the certain individuals and their certain enterprises kept the order. Yes there was still crime but not like the crimes that had once plagued the underworld, even those who would step outside of the bounds of all things legal had a code of conduct. Anyone who didn’t obey the code would quickly find themselves suffering from a rather serious case of being fucking dead. The certain individuals and the certain enterprises would change almost monthly at times and in rare cases would result in a rare police action if things became far too turbulent. Fortunes would rise and crash, individuals would rise and fall (and be found dead in their apartment after an apparent suicide by shooting themselves twice in the head), and enterprises would merge or fracture.
Atje Senya was one such individual who was about to have such a fall from grace. The veteran of countless street fights and gang wars was crouched behind a dumpster in an alleyman. He clutched a battle scarred six-shooter in his hands, a revolver that had served him well since he had killed the weapon’s former master. Atje had once been a proud lieutenant to a crime lord, serving his master well by being the right hand man for an offworlder who had wanted to expand his enterprise to Earth...by force. Now his lord was dead, having died a fool's death since he had grossly underestimated the powers of the enterprises that were already present. And now Atje was all that was left. The other six survivors of a once proud criminal empire had just been killed, killed in the overturned SUV that still burned brightly in the middle of the road that the alleyway branched off of. As he waited, Atje was quickly becoming acquainted with an emotion that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Fear. His clawed hands flexed involuntarily and his yellow eyes darted back and forth. He even was barely able to stave off the release of fear pheromones, pheromones he hadn’t released since his childhood.
Three cars came to a stop in the street. Doors opened and closed. Footsteps crunched on the frozen ground.
Atje tensed. He raised a hand from the revolver and raised the blue gem that he wore in a necklace up to his bloodied lips. He crooned a brief prayer in his native language.
The footsteps stopped.
“You know how this is going to end. No use trying to hold off the inevitable”, sighed a female voice.
Snarling, Atje leapt up and raised the revolver to fire. Before he could fire, a volley of gunfire ripped through Atje, tearing through his armor and into his flesh. The revolver flew from his hands and slid across the ground away from him. Yellow blood spattered onto the dumpster and onto the icy pavement. Atje tumbled to the ground, landing on his back. Unable to move, he stared up towards the sky, catching a glimpse of the rising sun and the clouds that the sun struggled to shine through. The crunching of boots on the frosty ground announced the presence of Ms. Roka as she stepped over a rapidly growing pool of blood to stand by Atje.
“My my. What. A. Mess”, said Ms. Roka flatly. She paused, waiting for Atje to interject. He didn’t and instead continued to stare up at the sky.
The boots crunched once more and Ms. Roka leaned over Atje, her red hair ablaze as the early morning rays reflected off of it. Atje could spot the individual freckles that dotted her cheeks and nose. Looking up at her bright green eyes, Atje shivered involuntarily and looked away. The eyes looked him up and down, making note of his wounds.
“I do have to say I wouldn’t have cared for your boss’s little organization, it was rather cute to watch as it struggled”.
Ms. Roka sighed and reached a hand out to a grey uniformed man who handed her the revolver that Atje had dropped. At the edges of his vision Atje could see half a dozen other grey uniformed figures, each who had a weapon trained on him. Raising the revolver over her head, Ms. Roka examined the gun in the early morning sunlight and ran a finger along the carvings that adorned the gun.
“In fact I probably would have you let all live if you all hadn’t raided one of my establishments. And if you hadn’t killed one of my collectors”.
Ms. Roka lowered the revolver.
“I see that you like art too. That is a wonderful pastiche of trophies on your belt. Knives, guns...hmm!”
A dozen weapons hung from Atje’s vest and belt, weapons that he had earned from old fights. The revolver had been a new addition to his collection, he had only owned it for about a week.
Ms. Roka spun the gun’s cartridge as she spoke,”The owner of this gun was also a person who found merit in art. See the rose that is etched on the barrel?”
She held the revolver over Atje so he could see. Atje stared at it with empty eyes.
“I was there when he etched it. Almost twenty years ago I think”, she then added quietly,”More than fifteen less than twenty”.
She then began to pace around Atje, brandishing the revolver in her left hand.
“Stan was an old friend. Back from when I was in the army. He wasn’t some meathead gunslinger like you though, he was able to produce art, not just steal and collect it like you”.
She stopped pacing and stood over Atje. She kicked him lightly, smirking as he gurgled in pain.
She then pointed the revolver at him.
“I would so love to prolong your death and make you suffer but you only have about five minutes left! Ah! What. A. Shame.”
She pulled the trigger.
Lowering the revolver, Ms. Roka spat onto the corpse and turned around.
“Back to the cars”.
The uniformed men and women complied, forming a perimeter around Ms. Roka as they walked back to the three black SUVs that were parked on the other side of the street. Two figures, the cleaners, leaned against one of the SUVs. They looked up as Ms. Roka approached.
The two nodded. The slightly taller of the two picked up a satchel that had been sitting at her feet while the second figure picked up a chainsaw from the ground.
“And be quick. They’ll go with the others we have in storage for removal. Donovan, Edward. Stay with one of the SUVs until the cleaners finish”.
“And when you’re finished, head down to level 3. Some idiot was selling spice without a permit. Just make him shit his pants and make him promise that he’ll follow the rules. The driver has the address”, said Ms. Roka as she opened the door to the first SUV.
“Will do ma'am”, said Donovan as he and Edward went to join the cleaners.
As Ms. Roka sat down in the SUV, her phone began to buzz. She handed the revolver off to the uniformed woman who had taken the passenger seat before retrieving her phone from a pocket on her coat. She glanced at the phone number displayed on the phone and grinned as she answered.
“This is a surprise. Haven’t heard from you since September”, she said.
A chainsaw roared into action. Ms. Roka gestured for the driver to go. The driver nodded and the SUV began to move with the second SUV following closely behind.
“Sorry about that”, said a male voice,”It’s taking longer than we thought to track down the groups who bombed the metro in May--”
Ms. Roka raised an eyebrow,”Groups? I was only aware of the New Dawn’s hand in the bombing”.
“I pulled some strings and had another forensics group take a look at the bomb’s remains. A few things were missed in the first report, things that could be either chalked up to simple error or to--”
“Someone in the original investigation team is part of New Dawn and they purposely omitted those details”.
“Right. And those details tell quite the story. Some of the bomb’s components came from off world. And the arrangement of those parts bear a striking resemblance to bomb’s used by the Torlak Syndicate”.
”Traffickers and the smugglers”, thought Ms. Roka,”Traffickers and smugglers who are mostly nonhuman”.
“Did hell suddenly freeze over? Never thought I’d ever see one of the anti-xeno groups try to get help from offworld”.
“Heh, same. It just means that they’re getting desperate. Remember that raid in March? Apparently our little attack destroyed much of their physical capital. The New Dawn needs money. Seems like they might have turned to the Torlaks for money and for munitions”.
The Torlak Syndicate was a organization that was founded by the species it bore its namesake from. It had it’s roots in the mercenary business, a business which quickly allowed the Syndicate’s founders to out right conquer other criminal organizations. Within a few short decades the Syndicate had been able to expand itself into literally dozens of other markets, with one of those illegal markets being the trafficking of various species across the galaxy.
The caller continued,”Which then in turn explains the uptick of missing persons cases involving young women and girls in areas where the New Dawn is active. They’ve been--”
“Kidnapped and sold off”, spat Ms. Roka,”Any leads?”
Humans had the rather unfortunate label of being “exotic” due to their short time on the galactic scene. While such trafficking was illegal in nearly all galactic civilizations, it still didn’t mean that it didn’t happen.
“None that I know. The only evidence I have pointing towards the Torlaks at the moment is from the bomb. However, I do know that Kovacs--”
Kovacs was a mutual friend, a friend from the army and a friend from the the years before.
“--- is leading a police raid on an apartment building in District XIII where five or six girls who went missing were last seen. Footage from a convenience store camera caught them being taken to the apartment building. No idea yet on who actually kidnapped them but they’re sloppy as hell. This might not even be a connected to my theory, could easily just be some idiots trying to hold them for ransom. Nevertheless, Kovacs did tell me that he’ll fill me on whatever they find. In fact the raid should have just started.”
The SUV came to a halt as it entered a lift. A few other vehicles, mainly wheeled vehicles with two or three speeders, occupied the lift. The door to the lift closed and the lift began to ascend.
“I can’t believe that he’s still in law enforcement. He’s gone through a lot since New Moscow”, said Ms. Roka.
“Mmmhm”, the caller sighed,”Listen, I gotta go. Viktoria is still wheelchair bound but she has been responding well to therapy. Doctors said she should be out of the chair sometime in early January”.
A green light flashed in the lift and the lift’s door opened. Sunlight spilled into the car and Roka shielded her eyes.
“Hey tell her that I say hello and that she’s welcome to come by whenever. Finally dealt with some loose ends so I’ll have some free time”.
“I’ll be sure to tell her that her favorite auntie says so”.
Ms.Roka broke into a smile. Even though she wasn’t related by blood to Viktoria, she’d been called “Auntie” by Viktoria since when Viktoria had been a toddler.
”Funny that you’d mention that. I was going through some of my old junk and found some of the cards she sent me when she was little. Oh and also, I’ll probably give her a call during her lunch break just to see how she’s doing”.
“She’ll love that. They really do grow up so fast. Alright, talk you later”.
“Right. Talk to you later Al”.
Roka returned the cell phone to it’s place in her suit.
“Xavier”, she said to the driver,”We’re making a detour to District XIII. I need a tongue”.
Zeyda shivered as she zipped up her coat, even though it was warm inside the house she knew what would welcome her as soon as she stepped outside. Of all the worlds she had live one, this part of Earth where her family had been stationed at, was the coldest. She had been to sandy desert worlds, to jungle covered worlds, to forested moons; of those worlds, only the forested moon had temperatures ever dip this low and it was for only a few weeks, not like the months of winter.
“It could be worse”, she muttered as she checked that her footwraps were properly tightened.
The footwraps were a traditional piece of clothing from Traulia, a world that she had never stepped foot on due to the nature of her parents’ work. Her parents were diplomats, living a mostly nomadic life as they were ordered to move about every few years, just enough time to get used to a planet and just enough time to have made friendships that would fall apart as the distance between them grew.
She pulled on her boots and opened the closet to find her knit hat, the hat she had made during the trip from the Western Spiral Arm to the Eastern Spiral Arm, to Earth.
“At least the gravity is not like how it was on Orillia”.
Orillia was a low gravity world in the Western Spiral Arm where the inhabitants more so bounded across the surface instead of simply walking.
Closing the closet, she then walked over to a chair, zipped up the backpack that sat on it, and then hoisted it onto her back. She walked up to the door. She was about to shout something out but caught herself. She unlocked the door and stepped outside.
“Almost forgot that they left earlier today. Some meeting they had to go to. Oh well, things always start hectic before easing up”.
Zeyda walked towards the front gate, towards the guardhouse. The building she had exited from was one of several in the Ambassadorial Square, an area that was gated off from the surrounding city. Her boots crunched on the coating of snow on the walkway, it had snowed for a hours during the night. Reaching the guardhouse, the guard waved at her and opened the smaller pedestrian gate. She stepped out onto the sidewalk, stopped, and took a deep breath.
She had only been in the city for a week, just enough to get over a bad case of galactic jet lag and to get acquainted with the parts of the city nearest to the Ambassadorial Square. The heavenly aroma of freshly made bread and biscuits drifted its away across the street from one of many bakeries.
“Must….resist….I just ate anyway!”
The storefronts glowed, bathing the wares that were on display in a warm, golden light. Colorful lights on strings blinked and wreaths adorned the sides of the buildings.
“Christmas is soon. Good thing we arrived weeks before that holiday, it won’t be like how we missed the Orillia Solar Festival by a few days. That sucked”.
Ground cars, both computer driven and human driven, sped by. A few speeders drove by too, their repulsorlifts casting a cloud of ice particles in it’s wake. A bright yellow tram trundled down the center of the road, completing the collage of old and new modes of transportation. The buildings on the side of the road were also a mix of old and new, some were centuries old stone or brick buildings while others were more recently built glass towers. Reaching the end of the block, Zeyda joined the small crowd that waited at the crosswalk. As the traffic light turned yellow then red, and as the pedestrian light changed, two black SUVs zoomed past, spraying the front of the crowd with slush. The crowd grumbled as they crossed the road over to the small platform in the center of the street.
There were only two other off worlders waiting at the station, a leathery skinned Hakka which sat on a bench beneath an overhang who wore a set of business clothes, an odd contrast to the colorful war tattoos which zig-zagged across his face; and a short red furred Sorodont who sat on the bench across from the Hakka, eyes looking down at a personal computer, tapping furiously away at the keyboard. A sign, ticking the away the time that had elapsed since the last train had arrived, hung from the overhang that covered the benches
2 minutes 15
2 minutes 20
Some of the people talked as they waited and Zeyda smiled to herself as she realized that she was no longer relying on the implants to translate as much as she had before. Her phone buzzed and she withdrew it from her coat pocket.
“*Mom: Meetings are going to run a bit late. We’ll be back by 10 pm. Rest of the week is booked like this but next week should settle down to something more reasonable”. She slid the phone back into her pocket.
”At least it’s a permanent assignment now. No more settling down for a few years and then being uprooted”.
A soft clattering sound filled the air as a tram rounded the block and approached the station, slowing down as it got closer. Sets of antenna like wires touched the cables above the tram. The tram consisted of four sections that were connected by an accordion passageway. The tram reminded Zeyda of the trains on Wuidon, one of the worlds she had lived in. Except the trains on Wuidon traveled overhead, suspended over the main roads as they followed the roads and ran between skyscrapers.
The crowd moved to the edge of the station and queued up. The tram came to a stop and two pairs of narrow doors opened up on each side of the carriages. The crowd waited for a small trickle of people to emerge from the carriages before getting on. The crowd, and this time Zeyda too, collectively groaned as they realized that most of the seats were already occupied. A third of the people seated in the blue padded seats already onboard were students, mostly teenagers. She spied an empty seat next to someone who was sleeping and took it. The sleeping figure had the hood of their coat pulled over their head and was resting their head on a backpack.
“NEXT STOP...LIPÓTVÁROS. NEXT...STOP LEOPOLD TOWN”, announced an automated voice.
The tram's doors slid shut and the trolley began to continue it’s way down the rail, speeding past another tram which was heading the opposite direction on a parallel set of rails. Looking past the hunched over sleeping human, Zeyda looked out the the large square window at the cityscape. As the tram passed a building that was being torn down, she caught a glimpse of the glass towers in the inner city, the business and office districts. She looked to her left across the diving aisle between the rows of seats out at the other window, catching a sight of the blue-black waters of the Danube before it was obscured by a row of tall brick buildings. A sudden yawn and the sound of joints popping made her snap her head around to see the hunched figure sit up and stretch.
“Not...enough sleep”, mumbled the human, a girl, as she pushed back her hood and tugged her hair way from her eyes.
Noticing Zeyda the girl spoke again, this time in English,”Ah. Good morning! Haven’t seen you around before”. The implant Zeyda had didn’t need to translate.
The girl reached into her backpack and pulled out a paper bag that smelled of something freshly baked. She reached into the bag and held out a small biscuit.
“No nononono you just ate!”
“Sure”, said Zeyda and she accepted the biscuit.
“I can’t believe you’ve done this now”.
The girl pulled out another biscuit and began to speak as she bit into it.
“My name’s Szilvia by the way”, she said.
“I’m Zeyda”, said Zeyda as she eyed the bag of biscuits.
Szilvia noticed, smiled, and handed over another biscuit. Human baking was rather...addictive.
“Which school are you heading to? The tram goes past several”, asked Szilvia.
“It’s on an island, on the other side of the river”, Zeyda frowned,”Obu-”
“That’s the one”.
Szilvia straightened up in her seat,”I go there too! What year?”
Szilvia pulled out another biscuit, Zeyda tried to decline it, failed, accepted it, and ate it.
“Saaaame! This is so co--”
The intercom popped back mon as the tram slowed down.
“ARRIVING AT LIPÓTVÁROS STATION. ARRIVING AT LEOPOLD TOWN STATION”
The well dressed Hakka and a few other similarly dressed people stepped out. No one got on from the station.
The doors slid shut and the tram departed from the station.
“NEXT STOP...ÚJLIPÓTVÁROS. NEXT STOP...NEW LEOPOLD TOWN”
“And here we are talking as if we were old friends. I think everything is actually going to be quite fine. I mean, she does seem nic--”
“If you don’t mind me asking, what brought you to Earth?”
“My parents are diplomats so we’ve around the galaxy quite a bit. This is their newest assignment”.
“Really? How many planets have you lived on?”
“This is the seventh”.
“Hmm. I would say that that sounds pretty cool but…”
“The charm from it all has lessened quite a bit….I mean as a child it was cool and all but now…”
“You just want a place to call home without moving around?’
“Exactly. Though this time here it should be a more permanent stay”.
“Well!”, said Szilvia as she suddenly clapped Zeyda on the shoulder,”You’ve come to the right place. Even came at the right time with it being December and all of that”.
“Yuletide season”, thought Zeyda,”I think that’s what some called it”.
The intercom crackled again as the tram slowed.
“NOW ARRIVING AT ÚJLIPÓTVÁROS STATION. ARRIVING AT NEW LEOPOLD STATION”
The younger students got off, students who were still in middle school and elementary school. A handful of people entered, a few older students and three off duty doctors who wore overcoats on top of their scrubs. The tram’s doors closed.
“NEXT STOP...VIZAFOGÓ STATION”
The tram began to move.
Szilvia crumpled up the now empty bag and stuffed it into her backpack. Zeyda hoped that she hadn’t east as many as she thought she had.
“Now it’s only fair I tell you a little about myself. I actually was born offworld and lived on one of the colony worlds for a few years before moving here. My father’s a police officer and he transferred here. I don’t remember much though. We moved when I was pretty young and they mainly spoke human languages on that world. How many languages do you know?”
“I’ve forgotten the ones from the first three worlds, haven’t really spoken them in a while. Those languages were from more isolated planets anyway. I didn’t have the right equipment to speak the official language on the fourth world. I received an implant then and it’s helped out a bunch in translating. I learned the languages in the other two worlds too. I can tell when I’m not relying on the implant to understand. It’s a...nice feeling”.
“What was the fourth world?”
“Liepra Four. It’s the capitol world for a species that communicates by clacking their two sets of mandibles together. Only was there for a little less than a year.”
“I would have gone insane if I had to be there for another month. I know it’s how they speak and all but it was so loud…”, thought Zeyda.
“Don’t they look a bit like…”, Szilvia trailed off as she spotted something outside the window. The tram was running parallel to the Danube with the river to the left. To the right however there were several police cars at the intersection of a road that branched off of the current one. Two police officers were carrying barriers out of the back of the larger vehicle and had begun to set them up, blocking off the street. The tram began to slow down but sped up once one of officers waved the tram through. A helicopter thrummed overhead, rising up to hide in the low lying clouds.
“Huh that explains it I guess”, said Szilvia.
“What explains what?”
“Remember when I said my father is a police officer?”
“Well I now I know why he left early today. He normally leaves before I go off to school; he only goes earlier if he’s required for something special”.
Captain John Kovacs stood with his back to the one of the alleyway walls. In one hand he held a handgun and in the other he held a ballistic shield. He shivered as a gust of wind blew down the alleyway. Even though the temperature was nearing 0 C, his brown hair with it’s flecks of grey was stuck to his head with sweat. He peered around the corner of the alleyway for a moment. The targeted building for the raid was an old ugly Soviet era building, a blocky concrete edifice that had somehow avoided demolition to replace it with something like the more modern towers that flanked it. The building, while not in complete disrepair, was still not in very good shape. An old chain link fence surrounded the building and the frost covered yard in front of it. Three men in coats paced the small yard in front of the building while another squatted in the middle of the yard, smoking as he ran a cloth along a battered gun.
“Most modern weapon they have is an AK-74. The rest have 47’s. Antiques but good antiques”, whispered Kovacs to the black uniformed men and women who stood behind him.
The word “POLICE” was emblazoned on the front and back of their uniforms in six different languages, two of them being human languages and the other four that were in smaller letters were offworlder languages.
“Do the nanites see anything?”, inquired Kovacs.
“Nothing in the yard but there’s a big ass repeating plasma gun behind that front door”, said one of the officers who sat cross legged with a laptop in his lap,”Just get to the wall and stay away from the door. I’ll see if I can get the nanites to disable it when we attack.”
“How about magic? Detect anything T’Jell?”
“Nothing”, said a pointy eared Joson.
“Alright! This’ll be easy!”, exclaimed a wide eyed Mirlak officer, Joren. Joren was the newest addition to the squad, having been added to increase the squad’ size from a four man one to a five man squad.
“Ha! We’ll see. You won’t be saying that if Isti can’t disable the plasma gun. It’ll burn all ya’ fur off and cook you, all at the same time as you’re screaming for your mother”, drawled a black haired officer, Morgan.
“Quiet back there”, hissed Kovacs.
A tram trundled past along it’s track in the middle of the road. A few cars drove by next to the tram followed by a orange and black landspeeder that hovered several centimeters off the ground. A dove took up roost on a light pole and cooed.
Kovacs lay the ballistic shield against the alleyway wall and pressed a hand against the headset he wore.
“Command, we’re in position”.
“Good. Move when the sniper fires. Countdown to sniper firing in 10. Countdown starts...now”.
“Get ready”, said Kovacs as he slipped on his helmet,”We’ll move when the sniper shoots”.
Everyone except for Isti checked their weapons and got in line behind Kovacs. Isti would stay behind and control the nanites which had infiltrated the apartment building through a ventilation duct.
The countdown chimed in Kovacs’ ear and in the rest of the squad’s earpieces.
There was a crack! as the sniper fired from a rooftop. One of the the pacing guards dropped to the ground, spasming as he fell. A bolt of energy had struck the man in the chest, stunning him. The energy bolt was filled with charged particles that overwhelmed the target’s nervous system, knocking the man out. Ducking behind the shield and holding the handgun in front of him, Kovacs rounded the corner and charged towards the gate into the yard. He kicked the gate open while shouting:
“Police! Rendőrség!! Drop your weapons and get on the ground! Drop them now!”
One of the guards immediately threw his weapon to the side and dropped to the ground. The guard who had been squatting leapt up and yelped, opening firing at Kovacs. Kovacs grunted as the rounds buffeted the shield. Grimacing grimly, Morgan stepped out from behind Kovacs and fired with her shotgun. Unlike the sniper, she wasn’t using stun rounds.
Blood spattered onto the ground and onto the front door.
The final guard raised his weapon but was dropped to the ground by the sniper who fired once more.
“Stay the fuck down!”, roared Joren, a terrifying sight as all of his fur that was not covered by his uniform and armor stood on it’s ends,”If you move one fucking millimeter our sniper will get you! And he won’t be using stun rounds anymore!”
”I bet that guy just pissed himself. Looks like the rookie is gonna be just fine”, thought Kovacs.
“To the sides!”, ordered Kovacs.
The team split into two, two went to the right of the door and one went to the left with Kovacs.
The wooden door exploded as the plasma gun inside opened fire, throwing burning splinters of wood into the yard.
“Dammit”, hissed Kovacs,”Isti! Hurry the fuck up!”
After a few seconds the plasma gun stopped firing and someone began to scream inside the apartment. Isti looked around the alleyway corner and called out:
“I had them overload the capacitors! It’s gonna--”
There was an ear piercing shriek as the plasma gun exploded.
“Flashbang just to be sure!”, giggled Morgan as she hurled a stun grenade through the doorway. The flashbank exploded with a crack! and a boom!.
“In in in!”, ordered Kovacs, “Police! Rendőrség!! Drop your fucking weapons and get on the ground!”
“On the ground now!”, shouted Morgan.
“Drop it! I said drop it!”, roared Joren.
“Stay down and don’t fucking move!”, screamed T’Jell.
Four more guards lay on the ground with their hands on their heads. Another guard lay dead and smoldering in the midst of the wreckage from the plasma gun, his shredded face dangling loosely from his head. Kovacs heard a gasp from behind him from Joren.
”Please don’t vomit”, thought Kovacs,”Because then I’ll vomit if you vomit”.
“I’ll watch them. You guys go search”, boomed Isti’s voice as the nanities came together into a swarm that pulsed and danced overhead. His voice was being broadcast from thousands of tiny speakers from within the thousands of nanobots.
“Oh God…”, sputtered one of the guards as he looked up at the swirling cloud.
Kovacs nodded at the nanite cloud,”Morgan you're with me. We’ll start with upstairs. T’Jell, Joren, start with the ground floor and then check the basement”.
“Teams 2 and 3 will join you soon”, boomed Isti,”The perimeter squads have also caught several fish. Apparently there’s another attack going on. Two black SUV’s have been spotted. Probably a gang war”.
“Keep us informed on those SUV’s. The perimeter teams can probably handle them though”.
“Right. Happy hunting boss”.
“Alright! Move out”, said Kovacs.
Kovacs and Morgan marched out of the foyer heading for the stairwell. Morgan followed close behind, hunkering behind Kovacs who in turn hunkered behind the ballistic shield while holding his gun out with an outstretched hand. The staircase was a narrow spiral one. As they rounded one of the spirals, Morgan tapped his shoulder.
“Voices above us”, whispered Morgan.
Kovacs couldn’t hear the voices but he trusted Morgan. His hearing had been dulled through years of warfare, from his time as a soldier and his time as a police officer. Even with implants his hearing was never like how it used to be.
“Let’s spring this trap”.
As he rounded the spiral, a machine gun fired, driving Kovacs back as the shield slammed against him as it absorbed the bullets. He retracted his gun arm and used it to reinforce his grip on the shield.
A shotgun blast then joined the machine gun fire and the shield was nearly ripped from his grasp.
“Ah fuck it”.
Morgan stood up from behind and fired twice. The source of the machine gun fire was silenced with a splat! and the source of the shotgun fire was silenced with a gurgle, since her shot had been aimed a little high and a little too much to the side, nearly taking off the gunman’s head.
“Good work”, said Kovacs breathlessly as he continued up the stairs, withdrawing one arm from the shield.
The floor where the gunmen had fired from was a long hallway with doors on all sides, a police officer’s nightmare to clear. Kovacs approached the closest door and tried to open it. It was locked.
“Shoot the lock”, he said as he took position next to the door.
“Roger”, said Morgan.
She fired once into the lock and then kicked the door open. A hail of pistol fire slammed into the wall opposite of the door.
“Easy way or hard way! Decision time is now!”, roared Kovacs.
“Fuck you police pig!”
“Hard way it is”, muttered Kovacs.
He stormed into the room, firing as he held the shield out in front of him.
A muscular man in a t-shirt collapsed to the ground with a moan. Kovacs kicked the pistol the man had been wielding into a corner.
“They always choose the hard way, don’t they?”, said Morgan sadly.
Kovacs knelt by the corpse, pulled off a glove, and felt for a pulse on the man. Shaking his head, Kovacs slipped the glove back on and stood up.
“Eh...sometimes they don’t. Let’s go to the next room. Hopefully the rooftop team is doing their job well so anyone else in the building should be trapped. There isn’t anything in here worth dying over. Hopefully they’ll make the right decision and just surrender”.
“Aren’t the girls kidnapped worth dying for?”
Kovacs grimaced,”I meant there’s nothing here for the kidnappers takers to die for. There’s plenty of reasons here for us to die for. And even if just one of us goes down, then that’s yet another reason to fight and maybe even die”.
“It’s all one big cycle o’ death”, said Morgan grimly.
”Sums it up well”, thought Kovacs as he grimaced.
The next room was thankfully unlocked and empty of anyone. Morgan drew back the curtain that covered the window and looked down at the front yard.
“Here’s comes reinforcements”.
More black uniformed armored police officers were rushing into the building.
Kovacs’ headset chimed,”Sergeant Kadar here. What are your orders for my team?”
“Send some of your people up to the first and second floors. My people are currently sweeping the ground floor and the basement. I’m sweeping the first floor”.
As Kovacs went to exit the room, his headset chimed again and he stopped.
“Hey boss? About the SUV’s….”, began Isti.
“What did they do?”, asked Kovacs.
“They just sped off! Some armed men shot several guards in the back of the building before hauling ass out of here. They also took one of the guards with them, roughed him up and forced him into the back with a gun at his head. I don’t think we can track them though. Resources are stretched too thin. I guess some fish found a hole in our net”.
“Damn. Think you can check out any of the intersection cameras?”
“I can though it’s probably not gonna help. The SUV’s had something retracted over their plates and their windows were tinted. Plus there’s a lack of cams on anything outside of the main streets. I wouldn’t be too hopefully”.
“Yeah….but I’m holding the fort down with some members of the second squad. The good news is that T’Jell and Joren found some of the kidnapees. Four were in the basement. They were people who had recently been kidnapped and their condition isn’t bad at all”.
“Alright! First bit of good news of the day!”, said Kovacs, ”We’ll join you once we finish up here. Kovacs out”.
Edit: And I forgot to say "OC" in the title. Is just having it say "OC" in the flair ok?
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2016.10.04 20:27 colie_o Bath house spy cam
All Sapiens Go To Heaven: Part 19
This chapter is short (and long overdue) because I've been recovering from some health issues, so thanks for your understanding!
In Which There Are Nasty Guests and Cake - Of A Sort
The door opened up into an impossibly large room. Larger than the schematics of the floor’s layout could have accommodated.
And it was filled – brimming, overflowing, crowded – with books. Towers, shelves, teetering stacks of books everywhere. Thin paper spines, fat gilded leather bound volumes, rolled vellum scrolls – endless isles of written words.
A small space had been cleared – though Tom used that word loosely for it was still piled high with books and loose leaf parchment – in the entry way where a worn desk and several plush, wing-backed chairs sat.
“Where are they?” Eva asked.
Tom scanned what he could see from the crowded doorway. This didn’t look at all like the room their friends were locked in. Then, to the left, he saw the outline of another door behind some shelves. “There.”
En masse they moved towards the door. Tom hoped one key worked for all the manual doors, much like one key worked for a single house. But if not, he was prepared to bring the Droopey-clones down here to throw themselves at that door till it broke or they did.
Thankfully, Eva slid the key slid without problem, turning it fluidly. The door creaked on aged hinges. So, the cell wasn’t used often but someone kept the lock greased, ready. Inside, curled and bound on the floor, they found Vick and Zee, their eyes wide with surprise.
Eva ran forward, pulling the gags from their mouths and releasing their bonds. Zee sighed in relief and rose a foot into the air, stretching his wings. Tom could make out a wet sheen on the black membrane where the makeshift ties had bit in to the tender appendages.
“Thank god, Eva!” Vick cried, throwing raw, red wrists around her neck in gratitude. The others surged around them each clasping Vick and Zee in companionable happiness. All except Crissus who hung back, looking around the larger room thoughtfully.
“How badly did he hurt you guys?” Eva patted Vick’s arms, turning him around to inspect every inch of exposed skin. Other than the welts where the rope had rubbed they appeared unharmed.
“Some of the other prisoners found us when we fled from the guards. One of them wanted to stick us with knives–”
“Peel our skin back,” Zee added.
“–but this tall–”
“So tall.” Zee again.
“–being – that’s the only way I can describe him – he wouldn’t let that other guy hurt us.”
“Stopped him, then shoved us in here all trussed up like veggal morsels,” Zee finished. Veggal morsels? No doubt some delicacy where Zee came from.
“He didn’t torture you?” Eva asked, surprise in her voice. Tom didn’t blame her. He wouldn’t have believed that Satan had just thrown them into this cell in a strange library without first recording their screams of pain for Swek to use on them later.
Whose screams had those been then?
Vick shook his head, leaning against Greystone. The hulking man helped walk the younger man out into the library, setting him down in one of the chairs. Vick slumped into the cushy back, the hard edge of stress on his face softening.
Zee followed, grimacing in pain and dipping lower the longer he tried to stay aloft. Felicia raised a thick arm up and the little guy landed, curling his wings around his tiny form. When they reached one of the other chairs he hopped onto the arm rest.
Now that they had their friends back, Tom looked back at the strange, oversized room.
“Tomtomgriffin,” Lightfoot said from around Tom’s neck. “Does something feel off about this room? Makes my fur stand on end.”
“It’s larger on the inside than the blueprints allow.” Tom pulled open the map on his tablet, showing him the supposed dimensions.
“How?” Lightfoot asked.
“Pocket dimension,” Crissus said.
They turned to face him. Sometimes Tom forgot that Crissus was from a technologically advanced society. His strange speech, often Yoda-like, and nearly always with third person references to himself, gave others the impression – Tom included – Crissus came from a more primitive world.
“Really?” Tom asked, fascinated.
The little guy turned towards the door they’d first come through, running a hand along the black frame. “Doorway is doorway.”
“The door creates the path to the dimension?” Tom inched closer to inspect the frame. The metal was otherworldly, which meant it was right at home in the hellplane.
“Crissus seen many doorways. Crissus knows.” He took Tom’s free hand and pressed it against the strange surface. “Feel.”
A gentle hum vibrated him, sending goosebumps up one arm and down the other. While the metal remained chillingly cool under his palm a warmth flooded his veins. Crissus released him to pull his hand back. “That’s a strange sensation.”
“What’s a pocket dimension?” Eva asked, putting her hand where Tom’s had been moments before.
“Think of it as a place that exists within our own dimension, but without taking up space within that dimension. The doorway lets us crossover. Because it does not take up any more space than what the doorways does, the room is as big as the dimension allows for, regardless of the space in our own plane.” Tom spun back to look at the far side of the room, which lay dark and seemingly endless, the rows of shelves fading into grey shadows. “This place could be infinitely large by design or function, expanding as more is added to it.”
“That’s some real Star Trek shit right there,” Eva said, amazed.
“But a library? Of all things?” Felicia frowned, picking up a book to sniff the yellowed pages before setting it down again. “This kind of magic and our Overlord uses it to house musty tomes of gibberish.”
“Not magic,” Crissus drawled.
“Whatever it is, it’s impressive,” Eva said.
Tom spotted a slim terminal looking stand that was sharply out of place among the leather and paper. “Satan had books in his office. Maybe he likes to collect them.” Really, really liked collecting them. There were more books than one being could read in a lifetime in here.
Then again, Satan had more than enough lifetimes here. It still took him some maneuvering to wrap his mind around an endless existence.
The shiny glass surface of the terminal looked exactly like that of the tablets. He tapped the screen and a Demonish welcome prompt popped up in beautiful rolling calligraphy, a touch of elegance amidst the brutal terrain of hell.
The greeting faded to a single line with a blinking cursor. A gentle tap on the line brought up a Demonish keyboard. In the bottom right corner was a small symbol consisting of three horizontal lines. Tom tapped on it and up sprang a list with a scroll bar so small it was practically non-existent. Tom translated the text at the top: Codex Index.
“A list of all the books housed here?” Eva pondered after he told her what it said.
“Seems likely. Maybe we should have Twinkle come take a look at this place. Might have some information. Even if it doesn’t, you don’t lock a collection like this behind a door without valuing it. Perhaps we can use it as a bargaining chip with Satan.” Tom tapped on the first option in the list. Up sprang another long list of words he could hardly hope to pronounce. Some didn’t even have lettering he recognized.
“He’ll be a stoat in a hare’s den!” Lightfoot said with a wheezy laugh.
“Stoats eat rabbits?” Eva asked, incredulous.
“We all love our meat,” Ligthfoot said. “Lamb is my favorite.”
“How do you take down a lamb?” Tom asked, flicking through page after page of strange text.
“A bow and arrow, of course.” Lightfoot’s tone was that of “Duh!” making Eva laugh.
“Tom! Eva!” Greystone’s voice shouted from behind several rows of bookshelves. The others – aside from Vick and Zee – had spread out, exploring the curious room.
Hurrying towards them Tom found everyone crowded around a large map hanging from a hook embedded into the stone wall. It looked like a bisected 15 layer cake. In fading text across the top was a title of some kind but Tom couldn’t read it. Each layer had its own title but without knowing the language he couldn’t make out what anything said.
Man, he wished he had Twinkle’s affinity for languages.
Despite the language barrier the map was a work of art. The detail was precise and elegant. Someone had rendered the piece with care and a masterful flourish. Before Tom could ask Greystone what he was supposed to make of this, Tom spied what had pulled the man’s attention.
“Is that?” Eva started, trailing off.
Curling tendrils of flame rose from the layer’s base, delicate whorls of grey steam suspended mid-air over them. The walls were rendered in black with red veins. A closer look revealed the veins formed symbols of some kind. It would have been beautiful if Tom didn’t have the sinking feeling all that was missing from the layer was a giant black star and “You Are Here”.
“We can’t be sure,” he said without much conviction.
Eva rolled her eyes at him. “All it’s missing is pictures of people burning in the flames and a few pitchforks.”
“But I don’t understand,” Felicia said. “There are more than this many levels of Hell.”
“Yeah, and these don’t exactly look like places we’ve seen during our recon.” Eva pointed to the layers above theirs.
Each one was bathed in a different color. One had a verdant grove of jewel green trees growing in it, another was full of cobalt waterfalls and what looked like distant mountain ranges. The top level was white with gold and silver line work. It looked feather soft and aglow as though light shone through from behind.
The layers below theirs weren’t terrible either, though they did grow increasingly darker in color the deeper in the “cake” they were. There was a rich brown one with rivers of amber and one with dusky purple vistas. The final layer was nothing but inky black with starry pinpoints of light in strange constellations Tom didn’t recognize. But it appeared ethereal, not menacing or dangerous.
In fact, had they not suspected the sixth level was a depiction of their hellplane, Tom wouldn’t have found layer six terrifying. It looked warm and surprisingly inviting. The way the steam rose up over the flames made him think of a hot spring.
Was nothing here straightforward? He’d hoped the key would lead them to answers. Instead it’d created more questions. Questions he couldn’t answer until Twinkle looked at the room.
Or Satan stopped talking so cryptically.
Tom rubbed his temples.
Why, Tom, they lead down of course.
Tom’s head snapped up.
“Eva, did your recon teams ever find the top floor of this place?”
“Not yet but I haven’t checked in with them since we found Vick and Zee’s location. Why?”
A strangled cry cut off his reply. Vick shouted Zee’s name then something silenced him.
“This is almost too good to be true,” A voice said behind them at the same moment they all turned towards Vick and Zee. “All of you in the same place. Must be Christmas.”
Swek blocked their path, flanked by his crustacean friends and the woman – Cam – who’d fallen in the acid bath. She appeared mostly healed except for a few places where the skin was bubbled and pink.
“That horned horse is missing,” Cam said with a sneer, pointing a trident towards them.
“He’s a unicorn,” Lightfoot said.
“I want the horse, Swek. He’s mine,” she spat at them.
Tom was painfully aware of the fact they hadn’t brought weapons with them. They’d been too excited about finding the others it hadn’t occurred to him they’d possibly need protection. That Swek would seek them out instead of hiding from them.
A miscalculation Tom would not make again.
Eva’s face was pinched and red. No doubt she felt as much anger for herself as she did Swek. She hadn’t set a trident down for longer than a few moments since taking up the fight with him. Tom wanted to tell her not to be so hard on herself but thought better of giving Swek ammunition with which to hurt her.
“Hello, darlin’,” Swek purred to Eva, menace in his bright eyes.
“How did you find us?” Eva asked.
“I knew it’d only be a matter of time before you went looking for your friends. As soon as you did, a little birdy told me where I could find you.”
The bastard had left an informant among the remaining Hellizens. Clever.
“Swek, we have Satan. You don’t need to work for him anymore. We could use your help.” Tom raised up his hands, the tablet awkward in his grip as he tried to appear non-threatening. The request for help tasted bitter on his tongue but Swek reminded him of a snarling dog, hackles raised. One wrong move and he’d attack.
“You think I’m working for that bag of bones? I’m working for me.” Swek spun his own trident like a baton, giving Tom a half smile. “You know, I never would have guessed you were Tom. When you came for your friends I imagined the mysterious Tom Griffin as someone, you know, larger than life. A real Arnold Swarzenegger. But you’re more Woody Allen aren’t you? Still, I have to thank you. You showed me it was possible to take this place down. To conquer it for myself.”
“Yeah, after Tom did all the work. There’s no way you could hold this place,” Eva said.
Gronak, Greystone and Felicia tightened in around Eva, their expressions hard. This was a powder keg of violence waiting to explode. And Eva was practically sparking with fury.
“Okay,” Tom said, trying to draw Swek’s molten gaze back to him, “I admit, you have us cornered. But this isn’t all of my team. We’ve grown too big for you take us down without notice.”
The butt of Swek’s trident hit his face before Tom registered it moving. Pain blossomed across his cheek and into his skull. Tom staggered and fell back, the edge of the map jabbing sharply into his spine. There was a squeak of pain in his ear. A flash of mottled fur dropped off his neck. Lightfoot. He tried to grab the little guy but his vision danced, hands closing over nothing.
“Tom! Lightfoot!” Eva cried, lurching forward with balled fists. The others surged around her as though they were one entity.
“Ah-ah, darlin’.” Swek moved to block Eva from reaching him. The tip of his trident pushed her back but her eyes were sharp and cold, staring him down as she slowly gave up ground.
Swek’s companions circled around to Tom, forming a barrier between his companions and him. At his back Cam poked her trident into his kidney.
“Sorry about the little rat. Not.” Her fluttery nasal laughter filled Tom with rage. Franticly he searched the floor for Lightfoot, praying the bitch hadn’t stepped on him. Where had he fallen?
Stars continued their bright swirl across his vision, pain a drum beating through his brain and bones. Shaking his head he opened and closed his jaw. Thankfully it wasn’t broken. That’d make spitting in Swek’s face harder.
“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” Swek said, turning back and forth between Tom and the others. “I’m gonna take your friends with me and Tom, Tom you’re staying with Cam here until you show her how to work the bots or till she break all your bones. It’s really up to you.”
“She’s your best bet on learning to control the bots? You’d sooner teach a dolphin to walk upright on land.” Eva snorted, leveling her icy gaze at Cam.
Cam shrieked and tried to lunge towards Eva but Gronak stepped between them, growling low and menacing. The shorter woman stopped short, rage forgotten in the face of Gronak’s hulking, dripping form.
“Now, now girls. Play nice,” Swek said with a laugh, eyes devoid of humor.
Eva looked at Tom around Gronak’s arm and he knew, almost as if he could read her mind, she was ready to fight if he gave the signal. As much as it chaffed to submit to Swek, he didn’t want anyone getting hurt because of him. The image of Twixt covered in blood rose unbidden and he swallowed down a sour taste in his mouth. Could you still throw up in Hell?
Softly – so softly – he shook his head no. While all eyes were locked on her and Gronak, Tom mouthed a single word to her, hoping she’d understand. Hoping she’d take heart from it.
He had to trust Erika would finally track Swek to his current lair and, in doing so, rescue Eva and the others. He’d easily take Cam – hopefully – once they were alone and he could bring a few bots to their location under the guise of teaching her how to manipulate them. Doing so now would not go unnoticed and could set Swek off.
Eva’s face didn’t betray a thing but he knew she was disappointed. It wasn’t in her nature to back down. She touched Gronak’s arm lightly and stepped to the front of their ranks. Turning back to the others she said, “We go.”
They didn’t question or even complain. They trusted her and Eva trusted him.
“Wise choice,” Swek said, stepping aside to let Eva and company pass. The three ocean critters surrounding Tom filed out behind them, grabbing up Vick and Zee.
Eva gave Tom one last look from the doorway, dipping her head ever so slightly. Message received. If Erika couldn’t find them, Tom trusted Eva to find another way out of Swek’s clutches.
Three goons and a madman…what could go wrong?
Reunited for only a moment. At least Eva had Zee and Vick back. He’d kept his word.
“If he tries to stall, take out his knee caps.” Swek held Tom’s gaze for a moment, a sneer pulling up one corner of his thin lips. Then he followed after his thugs, pulling on the door to close it.
But just before it clicked shut Tom thought he spotted a streak of brown and tan slip through the narrow space.
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2016.03.26 17:00 Sweepstakes_Bot Bath house spy cam