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[gladiatorcunt]

MARLBORO REDS - ANAKIN SKYWALKER

cause good men die too, so i’d rather be with you

summary: mechanic dilf!anakin x gender neutral kindergarten teacher!reader

wc: 8.4k

cw: “soft” dark content, made padme’s death vague on purpose, anakin has the vibes of a married father of 4 hitting on you while you’re waiting on their table at olive garden, daddy kink, anakin imagines killing someone, MALE MASTURBATION (the most graphic fantasies are skull fucking and anakin kinda hoping you’ll tear when he puts it in), bra mention (reader does have a fem style but i’m nb so that’s how i see it and men can also have a fem style), it’s not mentioned but anakin is going through cigarette withdrawals, anakin’s canon typical inability to be in a healthy relationship, possibly predictable plot twist (?), i wanted to be a lot grosser, anakin is 42 and he’s depicted as such, age gap (reader is in their early 20’s), this takes place in the U.S.

requests are open (read the rules first)

block & move on if uncomfortable

do not repost or translate!!

The exhaust fumes transported him for a moment, somewhere tropical with a cigar in one hand and a tit in the other as a wet body slid adjacent to his. His hard-earned vacation went up in flames as a shrill car horn hunted down his eardrums. Anakin snapped out of it and stared through his brittle bangs with dead eyes. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, how to act like a normal human being one of them. 

"Alright, that should be everything. Since we just needed to rotate your tires and do an oil change, we're looking at about 142 dollars."

"Thank you so much, I'll just go pay at the front desk. Have a good one!"

Anakin sighed and gave a half assed wave that she didn't even see. He has nowhere near as much spunk as he did back in the day, but his energy is always shot to hell long before he sees his last customer of the day. Luckily it was just a routine maintenance type of thing, he would've just bashed his head in with a wrench if it was anything more. 

Puddles of blood trot after said customer, he’s amazed that they can drive so well considering they have a bullet in their head. 

There’s no bullet or rivers of blood in actuality, but a man can dream. 

His knee joints creaked as he got out of his squatting position. He groaned from the effort while smearing his fingers in more grease trying to wipe them off on the pants of his overalls. The whole workshop smelled like garbage and he probably smelled even worse. His trusty grease rag was subsequently discarded on top of his portable tool tower. He noticed that a tub of lighter fluid was on its side so he prevented that big mess waiting to happen and screwed the cap shut, picked it up, and set it back on the shelves in the storage room. He had to remember to leave one of his employees a post-it notifying them that they were almost out. 

His sleeves were shucked up his soft muscular forearm to check his watch. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets like moles in a whack-a-mole machine when he saw the time. 

SHIT! 

It was 4:30, the time he's expected to be at Alderaan Apples Elementary to pick up his twins. He didn't have the time it would normally take him to drive 20 minutes back to his place for a 10 minute shower, and then drive 30 more minutes to be at his kids' school. He normally didn't work that late, since he owns the shop he can choose his own hours. But Anakin lost track of time obsessing over work and now he'd have to embarrass his kids by showing up covered in it. Their teacher would probably be there to chew him out, but in his defense this really didn't happen all that often. 

That teacher being arguably the biggest reason why he hated that they’d see him looking how he did right then. They're awfully pretty, with a chest that he's pictured slapping and sucking while their thick ass recoils from bouncing on his uncut cock. They had just moved to their average sized town at the start of the year, they told him at the parent teacher conferences at the beginning of the school year. Something about yearning to get away from their lackluster small town but also being too afraid to venture out into any kind of big city on their own. 

They were making the cutest little gestures when they were shyly talking his ear off too, shifting their thighs together as they swayed and never letting their eye contact stray too far away from their freshly polished mary janes. Anakin was very careful about remembering everything he could about Luke and Leia's first real school year. Hell, he was more scared than they were. But there was just something in the way this new teacher did their best to soothe any worries the kids might have. 

"It's okay, we'll be going on this new adventure together. And I'll do my very best to be there for you every step of the way. I hope you can be brave and look after me too!"

Luke nodded timidly but with a newfound sense of determination. Leia shouted an affirmative, being more extroverted in comparison to her brother. 

Their teacher was young, somewhere in their early 20's. Most likely having flown into town right after getting their degree. It made something in his gut swirl and simmer, imagining their delicate finger tracing his crow's feet and tugging on the gray in his hair. Their head nestled gently in between his squishy pecs, some of his muscle definition was lost with age but he had a feeling you'd like how much the slight softness of his belly highlighted the muscle underneath. 

The cliche apples in the blouse their teacher was wearing seemed to have Anakin in a trance as he zoned out. He grunted in acknowledgement when he needed to and slipped every form and newsletter he was given into his satchel. When it was time to head home, Luke and Leia clung to their teacher's legs. Anakin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and bent over to pry them off. He explained how sorry he was, being a single dad meant that whether or not he meant to, the kids still looked for a mother figure. 

He'll never forget the way your eyes widened by a fraction, flicking up to make eye contact with his feigned nonchalant stare. You seemed.... happy to hear that he was single. But that could've just been an old man getting wrapped up in the delusions that he still has it. 

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Mr. Skywalker. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how hard it is to do what you do everyday, but let me just say that I think you're doing an excellent job."

He thinks you'd do even better. 

By the time he had finished reliving that fond little memory, he could spot the street sign for the street the school was on. Ruffling his hair, he made a sharp right turn and slowly pulled into the parking lot. His black chevy truck performed beautifully like always so he gave her a solid pat on the hood. He turned on his heel, immediately seeing his children hugging either one of your legs. He was only 10 minutes late, it wasn't any better but he would never make his kids feel like he abandoned them. He never wanted them to go through what he had gone through when he was their age. 

He adjusted his collar and made a last ditch effort to wipe his fingers off on his clothes. He heard a  quiet cough. He shot his head up to catch your unamused eyes. A wry smile appeared on his face as he jogged over to you. When he reached  the three of you, he immediately crouched and placed a hand on Luke and Leia's shoulders. 

"Dad's really sorry, okay? He just lost track of time but he rushed over here as fast as he could as soon as he realized what time it was."

Luke peeked out from behind your leg, "Like the Flash?"

"Yes, Luke, like the Flash." Anakin chuckled, slowly opening his arms wide in the hopes that his kids weren’t too mad at him. 

Thankfully he was instantly overwhelmed by two bodies slamming into him, almost knocking him onto the ground and tumbling down the concrete steps. Luke was clutching onto him so tightly and Leia was giggling up a storm. He stood up and gently ushered his kids into holding one of his hands so they could stand beside him. 

He cleared his throat a few times before finally addressing you. 

"I'm so sorry, I don't know if you overheard but work was really hectic today and I didn't want to waste more time cleaning up. Please just think of me how you did before, I won't look like this tomorrow."

You sighed, shaking your head with a small smile. Your blouse had a floral pattern today, blue covered in peonies and apple blossoms. Your pants were some kind of plaid thing but you make them work so well. Anakin had  to actively keep his eyes from eye fucking your wide hips and oggling the expanse of your butt in the tight pants. Just thinking about how little must be left to the imagination made his cock ache in his overalls. But he restrained himself, he was going to ask you out when he was in a much better and.... cleaner state. He pushed the thoughts down and settled himself down with daydreams of the near future. 

"It's alright, Mr. Skywalker. I understand your situation, so long as it doesn't happen frequently and the children don't have to wait too long, we won't have a problem." You gently admonished the older man, not hiding the protective tone in your voice but still looking up at him with bashful warmth in your eyes. 

Stars, the way you were already so protective over his kids made him even harder. He briefly wondered how you'd be with their younger siblings. The image made his heart flutter and a wide smile stretched his lips. He shuffled from one foot to the other, praying to whatever God is out there that he's able to hide his boner in his baggy overalls. He still had quite a few years before he even wanted to think about having the birds and bees talk with the kids. He adjusted his overalls quickly and reached out a greasy rough palm to you. 

"I swear this won't happen everyday, thank you for being so kind. I definitely won't forget it." He murmured with a wink that was open to interpretation. 

You bit your lip as you leaned forward to slip your smooth palm into his. A sharp shiver traveled up Anakin's body and butterflies erupted in your stomach at the contact. You clicked your heels together and shook his hand, the weight of it made certain kinds of thoughts pop into your head that you'd rather not deal with at the moment. 

Reluctantly Anakin pulled his hand away, making sure it lingered more than was necessary or appropriate. He put his back to you and double checked that Luke and Leia had one hand in each of his and their other hands on the strap of their backpacks. Luke had one with planets on it while Leia had one with dinosaurs. He looked down at their feet to make sure that they were going slow and steady on the steps. They reached the bottom of the steps and walked across the parking lot to Anakin's truck. He opened the back seat, lifting Leia first and waiting for her to settle in before nearly throwing out his back bending down again to help Luke in. He buckled them up and made sure their seatbelts were fastened properly. He took a few steps back and gingerly closed the backseat door on Luke's side. His back was screaming at him on the trip around the back of the truck, it especially burned when he haphazardly threw his door open and climbed up into the driver's seat. 

The drive home was the same as it was everyday. Leia excitedly told her father all about every single detail of her day and Luke needing less coaxing to talk about his as the school year progressed. Luke was upset when they ran out of apple juice at lunch because that meant he had to have grape. Leia bragged about the rock she painted during craft time. Anakin listened intently, no matter what kind of depraved shit he felt for their teacher, he wanted to take extra care that both of his kids felt heard and appreciated at the end of the day. He responded with jokes and questions to keep them talking, it distracted them from realizing how long the drive was to the house.

They pulled into the house's garage half an hour later. Anakin was about ready to collapse into a pile of bones in his recliner. Luke and Leia ran like bats out of hell through the door and up the stairs to their bedrooms. He could hear the sounds of them putting their backpacks on their hooks and unzipping them to go through the jungle of papers they stash in them. 

The fridge was fresh out of Dr. Pepper so Anakin grumbled and got a can of bud lite from his locked minifridge on the counter. He managed to make it to the couch before he let himself fall face first onto the cushions. 

The pitter patter of tiny feet bounding down the stairs yanked him from sleep so he sat up and leaned his cheek against the arm of the couch.

"Dad! Dad! Dad! Look!" Luke blurted out, shoving some kind of paper in his dad's smushed face. 

Anakin grimaced but made himself sit upright. He reached out and took the paper from Luke, holding it at a good distance away from his face and at a downwards angle so he could read it properly. 

"What's this, buddy?"

"It's a paper for the party, Dad! The Valentine's day one that's um.... this Friday, i think.” Luke nervously wrung his hands in his striped shirt as he spoke. “I want to get something for my teacher too…” 

Anakin rubbed his shaved chin as he read the paper. Luke was right. It was a newsletter informing parents about the Valentine's Day party each class would be holding on Friday. There would be no working or classes and instead every class would have an all day party for both the children and their parents. Students were allowed to bring any snacks of choice, but they had to bring a box of valentine cards for their class and give one to every student in their class.

"That must be nice, having no school for a day. Well, i'll be there on Friday and tomorrow we can go to the store and get the supplies for you and your sister." 

“And we can get something for my teacher?”

“Of course Luke, that’d be a very nice thing to do for them.”

"Okay! Thanks, dad, love you!" Luke cheered, bouncing on his feet and kissing Anakin on the cheek while giving him a second long side hug before running back upstairs. 

The next day the Skywalker family was back in the truck on the way to the biggest local supermarket in the area. It wasn't too far, just in the next town over. They could've gone to the smaller store back home, but the kids liked having options and liked car rides that were like little road trips. (Why they hated the longer drives when they were to school but liked them in situations like this, Anakin could sympathize. 

Anakin shut the radio off when they pulled into the large parking lot of the supermarket. He put his car in park and turned the engine off. The wind chill smacked him right in the face as soon as he stepped out of his seat. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms to warm himself up and walked over to get Leia and Luke out of the car as quickly as possible without freezing his ass off. They did the standard routine of holding their dad's hands while they crossed the parking lot. Anakin was telling them to look both ways to watch out for any cars that were coming as they walked along the crosswalks. Mercifully they weren't in the cold long before they entered the store.

The bright white LED overhead lights made Anakin want to pass out but he followed closely behind the kids that were already running themselves ragged all over the place. He reminded them what they were here for and his arms were pulled to their breaking point all the way to the card aisle. There were so many options of valentine card packs. There were Bluey ones, Spiderman, ones that looked like the cootie catchers you fold and pull apart, et cetera. 

Luke ended up choosing Spiderman ones that came with pencils. Leia chose a kitten design for her cards. 

Anakin almost fell asleep on the ride home. He let the kids pick out drinks from the little displays in front of the registers so they were miles away in sugar rush land. He made a note to pop a couple ibuprofens before he went to bed. Some days are easier than others but since his wife passed away when his kids were newborns, he’s never known what it was like to be able to depend on someone else to always be there to help. His childhood friend Obi-wan stops by every so often to stay over, his mom and step-dad babysit when he stops being stubborn, but that’s once in a blue moon. The sunset casts light onto the sunspots and hair on his arms. He rolled both of his sleeves up because his body typically runs hot and global warming making the temperature 65 degrees in the middle of February does him no favors. 

The McDonald’s they drove through got the kids happy meals wrong three times, something that was clearly a sign of the apocalypse. 

He had to remind Luke and Leia not to run too fast as they clammored out of the truck with his assistance and bolted to the front door. Anakin sighed his millionth sigh of the day and clamped a hand on Leia’s head to steady her as he searched his rusty old keyring for their house key. His steady hand inserted the key into the lock, ushering his kids inside with his free hand while he pushed the door open. His long legs moved at a sloth like pace, Leia and Luke ignored him and shot up the stairs like two little rockets.

“Guys, slow down. Marshmallow feet, remember?” He reminded them and leaned around the corner so they could hear him, shaking his head in exasperation when all he gets in response is a couple “Okay, dad!”s. 

The white and orange ibuprofen bottle stored in one of the many dark wood cabinets over the fridge beckoned him with a come hither motion. He’s little more than a slave to his baser instincts so he dutifully heeded the call. The cabinet creaked when he cracked it open but he couldn’t give less of a fuck as he dove for the pill bottle and shook out a few orange pills. He exhaled in relief in a way that would suggest he was smoking weed when his adams apple bobbed as the pills hit his stomach. 

With that mindless task out of the way, Anakin slowly journeyed up the stairs to get Leia and Luke ready for bed. He kept a stern eye on them to ensure they brushed their teeth, used their mouthwash properly, and washed their faces. After the kids completed their bedtime routines, he tucked them into bed while humming a lullaby Obi-Wan had taught them when he held them as infants. He gave them their time to say goodnight to their mom, Luke looked at the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling when he said it and Leia clutched her stegosaurus plushie when she whispered her goodnight. 

Anakin didn’t contribute but he warmly kissed his twins on their foreheads and tucked the corners of their comforters around their shoulders. 

His heavy work boots thundered against the hardwood floor of the hallway as he walked out of their room and down the carpeted stairs to the den. He unhooked the buttons holding up his overalls on his shoulders and shimmied his ruined overalls down to his ankles. His hairy thighs expanded as he stepped out of them so he could kick them to the other side of the room. He was left in only his boxers and a white tank top that would never be white again. So he flexed his arms as he took that tank top off too. Grease stains were all over his body but he could at least take a shower now. 

His boxers joined the towels from yesterday’s shower on the floor as his soft cock flopped out. He gave it an absentminded stroke that injected something molten into his bone marrow. He bent over to reach the faucet and turned the water on. The shower didn't start until the water babbling over his thick calloused fingers was hot enough to cook a lobster in. 

He rolled his shoulders back as he stepped into the shower. His mouth dropped open in a silent exclamation and his neck popped as his head lolled back. The onslaught of boiling hot water pin pricked his skin in a pleasure-pain sort of way that made his thoughts temporarily quiet down. 

His cock gave a couple twitches but Anakin elected to wait until he had at least washed his hair before he rubbed a much needed orgasm out. 

3-in-1 shampoo that smelled like some dior cologne was all up in his hair, his hands unhurriedly glided through his short-ish soapy strands. He angled his head back and let the lather he had worked up be drowned out by the shower head. He grabbed his vanilla & shea butter body wash and let the spout rest against his glistening pecs as his fingers curled around the stocky bottle and squeezed. The smooth liquid spurted out over his pecs and dripped down his body. He reached his hands right up under the steady stream and soaped up his pecs, ghosting his thumbs over his puffy nipples before spreading his hands out and spreading the soapsuds all over the rest of his body. 

Squelching sounds echoed off the shower floor as Anakin widened his stance. His right hand was subconsciously traveling closer and closer to his half-hard cock. He had worked so hard, finally being able to relax and luxuriate in the silence made the blood in his body migrate further south. 

A certain teacher flashed through his mind, his head whipped down in shock to discern how greatly his flushed cock swelled up faster just at the single image of his kids’ kindergarten teacher. 

An aurora borealis of fantasies swirled in the air. 

You’re kneeling on a pillow (he would be at serious risk of getting more brow wrinkles if you had to touch the harsh dirty floor with your bare skin.) and bobbing your head up and down the fat cock making a bulge in your cheek. Your sparkling eyes have this glazed over look to them as he anchors his hands on the back of your head. He widens his stance and bullies your throat with his heavy cock. You squeak and sputter but you take it like such a good pet. Your plump lips slide off of his meat a couple inches but before he can do anything, you’re groping his taut ass as you wiggle your head down to the base of his cock. Your eyes flutter shut as your brain shuts off; your nose is buried right in his musky bush. His face scrunches up in the best kind of pain, but he locks his gaze on the way your eyes roll back when he begins to skull fuck you.

Thank god for oral fixations. 

“Gonna let Daddy soak this warm throat pussy?” Don’t worry, he knows you can’t exactly use your vocal chords properly at the moment. So he nods your head for you, deepening his thrusts into slow sharp jabs. 

He’d baptize you in cum if you let him, your skin would look so pretty and glossy covered in it. He’d help you wipe it off after he cements the image of your eyelashes sticking together in his mind. 

Now he’s grabbing your love handles while his cock builds his dream home in your guts. Your ass shakes back against his hips as you try to steady the phone in your hands and face it towards the overhead. He grabs your hair in one fist and gently tugs your head up so you can pay attention properly. He didn’t go through all this just to let you hide away from him. In a perfect world, the kids would be staying with his mom so you’d be more than welcome to lose your voice.

The vision in his mind shifts to you being on your back, hands trembling trying to hold your legs as close to your chest as possible. You’re looking up at him like he was born in the center of the sun. He’s looking back at you like you’re the moon made flesh, eternally encapsulated in his sea of stars. Anakin smiles triumphantly but with a heady passion in his gait that threatens to burn his lungs to ash, coughing them up over your open heart. 

“You’re doing so well puppy, that’s my brave baby.” He coos and pries your hands off your thighs finger by finger. 

Once your hands are free, his larger ones ardently seek out yours like a dog going after a bone. The rough texture of his digits feels like an uncomfortably pleasant caress as they lace together with your own. He doesn’t look at anything else; can’t think of anything else when you make the cutest little watery gasp as his cock humps along the crack of your hole. The red tip of it gets caught against your outer sweet spot as if trying to give your crotch small pecks. His eye wrinkles crinkle when his smile widens and he offers a breathy laugh. 

He squeezes your hands tightly as he wraps a hand around his cock and directs it to its northern star. Your nails digging into his knuckles don’t distract from your hole stretching itself wide to suckle at his encroaching length. 

And if in the shower he spilled into his feverishly fucked fists at the concept of crimson liquid mixing with cum to make a pink swirl where your bodies meet, you’d never know. He thumbed at the glans under his cock tip as he came down from his high, skirting a fingernail up a vein on the side and wishing he was mouthing the space between your shoulder blades; preening your white feathers with his scratchy tongue. 

The next couple days were gone with a couple of blinks. He never deviated from his routine; wake up, wipe off the drool on his face, get kids ready and take them to school, go to work, clean up, go pick kids up from school, help with whatever work 6 year olds would have, put them to bed, jerk off in the shower till his legs ache, fall asleep on his stomach with his the right side of his face smushed into a pillow. 

He did find some time to put together a teacher’s appreciation basket for you. You more than anyone else deserved a few something somethings on a day meant to represent love. The gifts were packed nicely and neatly in a vintage wicker basket wrapped in a red gingham bow and covered in see through red plastic wrap. Your reaction would regrettably have to be viewed from afar, but he’d know how to move forward depending on what adorable expression you had all over your face.

The night before the party, Anakin allowed Luke and Leia to stay up a smidge later than normal so that they could get all of their things ready for the party. Anakin’s special present slept soundly in the seat next to his in front of his truck. An additional gift from Luke was tucked inside along with an item from Leia who had insisted on it when she found out Luke was getting you something.. The basket being hidden away for the time being allowed him to focus completely on helping his children with their gifts at the coffee table. 

Luke’s eyes were droopy as he wrote down the names of his classmates in the hearts made to look like Spiderman’s mask in his cards. He inserted  most of the pencils in the intended slot on the left of the cards by himself before he slumped against Anakin’s arm and weakly pushed the pile of cards towards his dad. Anakin chuckled as he ruffled Luke’s fluffy blonde hair and teasingly whispered that he didn’t know a boy could be so sleepy. His son blinked at him as if to say how unfunny his dad was before yawning and snuggling further into his father. 

Anakin pushed the rest of the pencils into the card slots and sealed all of the cards with red heart stickers. He lifted his head to look across the glass coffee table to check in on how Leia was doing. For how fiery his daughter was already at such a young age, she wasn’t immune to getting tired before 8:30. The signature buns on her head that she loved begging him  to do for her had loose hairs poking out of them because of how Leia had buried her head in her arms. 

Anakin blew a breath out in fond chagrin as he easily reached over the table and delicately removed the pins holding the buns in place. He fluffed out the hair that fell down so her scalp wouldn’t feel weird when she woke up. 

He hoisted Luke up in one arm and Leia in the other (something they were getting a bit too big to continue doing) and slowly but surely deposited them on the couch. He snatched a white plush blanket from the linen closet and settled it over them before turning back to the massive amount of paper cards on the table. He finished the last of Leia’s cards a short while later. He sorted the cards into orderly piles and put them in sandwich bags that he took to the kids room so he could put the bags in their backpacks. 

Anakin came back to the living room as he tried to shoo the sleep away by digging his knuckles into his eye sockets in a lazy rub. He opened the cabinet and took out a package of pink frosted sugar cookies with red heart shaped sprinkles, a pack of capri suns, and a tupperware bowl full of mini brownies. With a long drawn out yawn he set the snacks out on the counter so that he would remember them tomorrow morning. He got a set of paper plates and a sectioned set of cutlery in case you needed any extra. Maybe you’d give him one of those corny gold star stickers as a thank you. 

Friday morning was ushered in by  two children risking their dad’s life by flopping on his stomach with all the strength they had while he was sleeping. 

“OH FU-“ He shouted before he remembered who was in the room and gently rolled them off of his stomach. “What exactly do you two think you’re doing?”

 "It's time to wake up dad, we're gonna be late for school!" Leia said with a dismayed look on her somewhat chubby face. 

Anakin looked away and meekly mouthed a 'sorry' as he looked at the led clock that he had forgotten to set an alarm on. 

Fuck, not again. 

He sat up in bed and hunched over; his head buried in his hands. Luke and Leia crowded around him as they tried their best to comfort their father, giving his back light pats. He let them pull his hair so that he'd look up at them. He smiled in gratitude and crawled out of bed as quickly as he could to get the day started. 

He made a comical sight; hobbling around the floor with his ripped jeans pooled around his feet as he raced to get his kids ready for school in time. His belt was a fairly new black leather piece that he'd been keeping for a special occasion, but the anxiety of the morning made him grapple with getting the buckle in place. Once that was done a shameful amount of time later, he shoved his clothes to the side in his closet as he searched for a nicer, more "classy" dress shirt. Anakin gnawed at his bottom lip and eventually decided on a black silk button up that matched his belt. He crouched, chanting in his head that he hoped he wouldn't tear a muscle, and chose a pair of italian leather slides that his mom had gotten him for Father's Day a couple of years ago. The bathroom mirror held back no punches when it showed Anakin the state of his head. He crossed his fingers and smoothed back his hair with the tiniest glob of gel; the water he splashed on his face would have to do some serious charity work. He could only hope that you liked the naturally unkempt but not too unkempt kind of look, a striking sort of ruggedness. 

"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad..." Luke droned, understandably fed up with waiting on his dad to deal with another one of his mini mid life crisis episodes. 

"I'll be right there Luke, hold on a second, please."

Anakin gave into his son’s begging and let him brush his teeth with the birthday cake flavored toothpaste today. Even though the dentist moaned about how hard it was to clean out when they introduced it to Luke at his last appointment. His Spiderman toothbrush played a jingle meant to sound like the theme song when Luke did his 2 minutes of brushing. Anakin stood protectively behind him as he spit in the sink, his hand hovered over his head so he wouldn't hit it. He took Luke's toothbrush and ran it under the water before he put it back in the clear organizer next to the faucet. He poured the recommended amount of mouthwash from the bottle and passed the lid that acted as the cup to Luke. Luke grimaced but he tipped the cup up so the blue liquid would pour in his mouth, he swished it around and then spat it out too. He sipped from the glass of water that was handed to him and proudly beamed at his father.

"Good job, Luke. I'm so proud of you." Anakin congratulated him, Luke was still finicky about floss so today would not be the day that he attempted to get him to use it. 

Being a parent means knowing how to pick your battles and what time to schedule them. 

Anakin brushed Luke's hair and fluffed it out a bit like a surfer (how Luke likes it). He grabbed his son by his underarms and lifted him off of the step stool. The mirrors in their house were still a bit too high for his kids to see properly so for now the stools had a purpose. He would be sad when they no longer needed them. 

Anakin quickly dipped into the twins room to grab their backpacks. He had already gotten them dressed after he got out of bed earlier. He helped Luke put his on and then repeated the same process with Leia. Her toothbrush made a loud roar when she finished brushing, and she had a fit of giggles in response. His daughter preferred straightforward mint toothpaste so morning routines really weren't that much of a struggle with her. Once she put the glass of water down on the sink, she eagerly turned her back to her dad and pointed at her loose hair. Anakin saluted as he began shaping her hair into the buns she loves so much. He reminded her not to mess with them too much or they'd fall apart, and she always responded that she knew that already. 

They got in a single file line on their mission out the door. Anakin nabbed the containers of snacks and briefly freaked out wondering if he lost the cards before he remembered that they were in the kids' backpacks. He double checked if his keys and wallet were in his pockets, and to his relief everything was where it was supposed to be.

Well, mostly everything. He'd never forget about you, don't worry. 

He put his phone on do not disturb before tossing in the front seat next to his along with the basket already sitting there. 

Anakin told Luke and Leia to buckle their seatbelts as he inserted his key into the keyhole and started the car. He heard them buckle up and waited for the tell tale clicks before putting his car into drive. They had to leave than some of the other kids in their school would have to since they lived farther away, but because it was so early the twins could only yawn and hold onto the other twins' booster seat. Anakin thanked the cosmos and turned the radio on but kept it a low volume; Frank Sinatra's rich voice was the best company on a drive like this. 

The school entrance was abundantly decorated. A large white banner along the front entry archway announced the festivities. A flurry of red, pink, and white ribbons hung across the ceiling of the lobby. Every door had hearts representing the students in their class covering them, the kids's names scrawled in their own messy handwriting with cheap crayons. 

The door of your classroom was the last one on the left. You kept a bottle of hand sanitizer in front of it because you were very particular about hygiene, a trait that served you extremely well in your job. Luke and Leia pointed out where on the door their hearts were as they waited for you to open the door. The Skywalker family were the first ones there so Anakin wasn't sure if it was okay to just drop in on you unannounced. He wished that you would drop on him unannounced. He cradled his gift basket  in his arms as if it were a fragile baby.  

A few minutes later, your heels were heard clacking against the tile floor. The silver door knob jiggled before it stopped moving and the door took its sweet sweet time opening. Your head poked out and your face brightened when you saw who was at the other end. You sunk down into a squat, putting your hands on your knees as you addressed the children. 

"Why, hello Leia; hello to you too Luke. You're a tad early, but you can go ahead and hang your backpacks on the hooks in your cubbies. I haven't finished setting everything up, so you can sit down on any of those chairs at the front of the class." You greeted them and shook their hands before pointing out where they could sit. 

The twins obviously sat together. You didn't have assigned seating in your class, and you felt that Leia and Luke would be more comfortable sitting together during their first year at school. It wasn't guaranteed that they'd be in the same class next year. You were too sensitive to try to separate them. You cried a lot because of how scary school was when you were in their place, so you couldn't imagine being the cause for any tears your students shed.

Anakin was once again too caught up in studying your outfit. You had on a fitted shirt with a cardigan on top, it had thin strings that could unwind with no effort from him if he reached out and just pulled.

But that could wait. 

The kids scattered off to choose their seats. Your classroom had three circular tables with five small red chairs. Each chair had a small blanket on the back with a valentine's pattern. The table at the front where Luke and Leia were sitting had heart shaped placemats with a lace trim that looked like it should've been a doily, but in a… good way. You had red and pink plates on the smaller table next to your desk, as well as clear forks and spoons that looked like they had confetti inside of them. You figured that the parents would bring all of the refreshments and you didn't know what your students would want; you thought that the safest bet would be to hang back. 

Anakin did the most he could to soften his gaze when you straightened up and automatically locked eyes with the older man. He clocked how you instantly glanced down at the floor for a split second. You adjusted your collar, for some reason, and gave him the world’s smallest smile. Anakin was so certain that if he leaned in close enough, he would be able to hear your heart racing at the same accelerated pace as his.

 Some say that means it’s love. 

You fluttered your eyelashes, “Hi, Mr. Skywalker, thank you for coming. It’s always a pleasure to see Luke and Leia, but i’m glad that you could be here for them”

“Believe me, no one’s more happy about me being here than I am.” He blurted out without thinking, ‘Uh, I brought some snacks and drinks for everybody.”

You took in the capri suns and the desserts as your smile grew. Your hand curled around his bicep subconsciously, “Oh my gosh, that’s so nice of you! I’ll just put those over the-“ 

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Anakin sauntered past you to put the food down on the table next to your desk. He placed the frosted sugar cookies down first, followed by the capri suns and brownies. 

He turned to face you and his shirt seemed to tighten over his chest as he rested his hands on his hips. His fingers flexed absentmindedly, like they wished they were gripping something else. 

“I can handle it, sweetheart. I’m 42, not 72.”  He chided you, strolling back over and chucking you under the chin; you were cute if you thought you’d be lifting a single finger the entire day. 

The way you nearly fell head over heels trying to fix your assumed faux paus was even cuter, “No, no- I- I didn’t mean anything- I just- Y-you look very capable to me, sir.” 

If your brain would let you, you would rip your face off to hide from your big mouth. Why the hell would you tell the much older father of two of your students that you think he looks “very capable”? WHAT POSSESSED YOU TO CALL HIM “SIR”? 

Anakin scratched his chin and decided that he’d let you off the hook with no more teasing from him. That’s a lie though, he was confident that you could take whatever he gave you. 

“Careful, don’t stroke my ego too much or I'll have to stroke yours. And please, I'd hate to have to remind you again, my name’s Anakin.” He was flirting a little too shamelessly for where you were, but he was still thinking with his upstairs head and guided you to a back corner. 

“I actually got you something myself, but uh,  if it’s all the same to you, I'd wait to open it until you’re nice and snug at home.” 

He gladly took a short walk to your car with you and helped you set the basket down safely in the trunk. He told you to stand back as he slammed the trunk door shut; slapping it for good measure to make sure it was properly closed. 

The two of you returned to your classroom and like the good little helper Anakin wanted you to know he could be, he helped you greet the incoming parents and students. He even took any concessions they brought and put them with the others

By 8:15 everyone you expected was in your classroom. A few kids were without their parents so you asked some of the other students to invite them to enjoy the party; a party’s no fun alone. 

At some point around 9:00 you had the stray daydream of Anakin pinning you against the wall outside of your door as he savagely plundered your mouth with his teeth and tongue. Finger shaped bruises and a promise to ‘see you at home, baby’ would keep your usually freezing cold body warm. You glance at the man out of the corner of your eye to see that he was already staring. He looked like he wanted to teach you a lot of things.

Whatever that meant. 

The morning half of the day consisted of the cafeteria delivering breakfast and watching a couple of movies that the class voted on. The Lego Batman Movie was first (a unanimous decision), and Wreck-it-Ralph was picked after that (some kids wanted to watch the minion movie like always but you were secretly happy that they weren’t the majority.) 

Lunchtime was when you decided to let the students have the snacks, they were welcome to go down to the cafeteria with a guardian if they wanted actual food but they didn’t have to. You weren’t surprised when none of the seats became empty. 

Anakin had to wrench the small plastic chair away from his ass before he winked charmingly and speed walked to the snack table to help you. The air between the both of you had inexplicably become charged with insurmountable tension. The chaos didn’t give you much chatting time so you could only glances and brush your arms together; how accidental those touches were was up for debate. 

Especially when he needed to get through to the plates and forks behind you. 

“Sorry, let me just squeeze past you.” He whispered in your ear, his big hands using your waist to steady you as he pressed his back flush against your chest. 

In the blink of an eye he was gone. The invisible hands chained to your skin remained. You fanned your face with one of the cheap paper plates as you floated back to your body and got a hold of yourself.  

You looked over at the Skywalker trio to see Luke and Leia point at you as they tirelessly tug on their dads sleeves until he caved. You saved him the trouble and went to them, bending down so you could hear the twins properly.

“Do you two need something? I could see you making a fuss over here.” You teased. 

“Dad forgot to give you our presents….” Leia mumbled and Luke nodded sharply. 

Your eyes widened, “Oh! You didn’t have to get me anything, but the day’s not over yet. You can give them to me now.”

“I did not forget, Leia.” Anakin shook his head, fidgeting in the uncomfortable chair. “They’re in the basket Dad brought, and your teacher has it in her car outside, okay?” 

You nodded and confirmed their fathers words, “He’s right. I didn’t know that there were things from you and your brother in it too but it’s safe and sound. I pinky swear.” 

Two much smaller pinkies met you halfway and wrapped around yours. The Skywalker twins giggled as they turned it into an impromptu arm wrestle competition and beat you easily. (You felt they were going to snap your finger off if they kept tightening their hold so you bowed out.) 

Anakin watched with hearts in his eyes and his head propped up in his hand, his eyes crinkled at the inherent domesticity of the act. 

Luke and Leia agreed to call their exhibition match a draw. 

The sun had already set by the time you got home. You were so tired that you nearly dropped your keys down the stairwell; you didn’t want to spend your night fishing them out of the grass.The wicker basket in your arms was at risk of falling too but you got your door opened and you crumpled on the loveseat.

 “Oof, I should probably get this sorted out now or I'll just forget about it.” You said as your body protested you moving a single inch from your sunken spot. 

You grabbed your emerald green pair of scissors and cut the top of the plastic wrap off.The wrapping  squealed as you tore it off the rest of the basket. You peered into it and thankfully it looked like a run of the mill teacher’s appreciation gift; for a valentine’s day it was a little strange but since it was from Anakin… you’d slip on your rose colored glasses. 

There was a medium sized teddy bear, a couple three wick candles; your favorite was the one that smelled like the conversation hearts candy. There was also a custom made box of chocolates from the bakery you frequented, and three burgundy roses that you trimmed properly before dropping them in the vase on your kitchen island. 

The ‘world’s best teacher’ stood out like a sore thumb but it made you smile anyway. 

The teddy bear was incredibly fluffy and bubblegum pink; it’s holding a sparkly red heart with the word ‘princess’ sewed in hot pink thread in the center. You swept the fur away from its black eyes so it could see. The bear was pretty cute, and you had a problem handling your stuffed animal addiction, so you headed to your bedroom and laid it down with the rest of your plushies. 

You yawned and your mouth stretched like a goldfish when it does the same thing. The strings of your red cardigan came undone by your hands and you let it slide off of you and hit the floor. Your pink ribbed top joined it when you gathered enough energy to give a damn and move your arms. 

Your white bra was so plain but like hell if it didn’t make the man palming himself over his jeans rock hard. The kids were sound asleep in bed and the walls were thick so he could be as loud as he wanted. But this particular session wasn’t about achieving some grand climax. No. He just wanted to take things slow tonight. If he happened to gradually tumble over the edge along the way, he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Anakin loved you, every inch of your body would soon be blissfully aware of that. 

The miniscule camera in the dot above the i in Princess loved you just as much. 

The fire that would wait to invite itself in for a surprise visit until you had left for work loved you more. 

a/n: i had this in the drafts for a bit but i was having a moment so i didn’t post it until now. happy valentine's day 💞

[blackpilljesus]

Personally, I think a bigger obstacle to overcome when it comes to moids isn't the physical but the social. Many believe that physical strength is the problem for women and while I wont discount it; it's not the main problem imo. It's possible to take down much bigger people/things with the right mind + tools; it's why humans are on top of the animal kingdom despite being below average in speed/height/strength compared to other species. Weapons like tranquillisers & guns were created to kill much bigger animals; vehicles were created to travel at faster speeds than we can cover with our legs. Things like this allowed humans to architect the world around us.

Women have been able to take down moids despite them being physically stronger - women poisoned & shot moids fatally. Before puberty for maIes sets in, many young girls are able to physically defend themselves from moidlets in a similar age range however this brings social issues. Regardless of self defense laws in many countries women get punished for fighting back. Many women are in prison or have been charged for fighting back against their abusive partners while the law turns a blind eye at maIe abusers. Women receive longer sentences on average for killing in self defense than moids do for killing women in cold blood. Women are told to go through the legal system which only delays the inevitable of the moid taking her life cause the system is useless. Women are set up to fail and society is set up to habour moid evil.

There's a place called Longyearbyen near the north pole. It doesn't have typical day/night cycles, has one main shopping center, and people aren't allowed to die there bc it's so cold there's risk of infection as the bodies don't decompose, oh and they live among bears. All the citizens must be trained with guns so they can shoot a bear if it ever poses a threat. Now despite bears being much bigger & stronger than humans, humans are able to be near them and build lives independently bc they're able to take down bears* that are a threat. In any reasonable non maIeworshipping society that still kept xys around a similar thing could be done; for women to be armed to shoot moids when they pose a threat so they can at least walk around with a peace of mind. Because it's not just a thing of biology or socialisation when it comes to moid degeneracy, many of them abuse women because they know they wont face consequences for their actions as society paves the way for them to abuse women. In a nigerian state state the government were offering gun licenses to people so they can defend themselves from bandits (no victim blaming, no telling the citizens to 'pick better', etc because the system doesn't benefit from bandits as it does from maIe violence).

In the 1900s when women successfully used hatpins to fend off moids that wanted to sexually assault them, they got regulated, hatpins had to have protection & could only be a certain length. So not only is it not a fair fight physically but socially. Many women who've been trafficked get imprisoned for fighting & killing their captors. You dont see moids who are killed or harmed by women defending themselves get blamed for it for initiating attacks but women get blamed for being on the end of moid degeneracy. It's more difficult to fight the social differences because as humans we're social creatures typically bound to the laws + cultural views of the land even when women defend themselves they're seen as extremists or the abusers themselves which brings being ostracised + further abuse. Mixed sex societies are practically open air prisons women are held hostage in.

*Given that bears are a hot topic lately, imagine humans forced to live around bears defenselessly bc the bears benefitted from it. Imagine after numerous bear attacks that humans are still expected to be around bears (with no protection) & are just told to find good ones to trust even though they all have the capacity for their violence. Imagine people getting into politics over which bears are worse or more vulnerable (black, brown, white) meanwhile they're all dangerous as a whole. Imagine a chance that humans had to fight back against a bear attack & win yet they get punished by other bears for doing so but nothing happens if it's the other way around. I can go on but it starts to come together how fucked & a set up to fail mixed sex societies are for women & before anyone tells me "but bears aren't human!1!" for the past month most women have said they'd rather be with bears than moids in the forest.

[savage-rhi]

Request for a drabble where Heisenberg captures a hunter who has been hired to kill him but he decides to toy with her to break her spirit. When he is finished breaking her down he finds himself drawn to her and decides to make her his

@omgcoffee-and-murder Hey hon! This may not be in the direction we spoke of way back when (I forgot most of the convo my apologies), but I hope you like it!

Karl leaned against the cold wall of his shop, watching the captured hunter weakly struggle against her bindings. To say he was beyond pissed was an understatement as he chewed on the end of his cigar and debated his next move.

For days, he had turned his wannabe assassin into a near lifeless version of herself. He deprived her of sleep, tormented her with the metallic cacophony of his factory, and even broke a few limbs with both tools and his powers. Yet despite the suffering he inflicted upon her, she refused to die. Something in her was stubborn enough to endure---to endure him---and Heisenberg grew both frustrated and intrigued.

Like a wolf smelling fresh blood, temptation tugged at the back of his psyche as he made direct eye contact with her. Her black eye greeted him with a shaken ferocity as she pathetically tugged against one of the heavy chains securing her dangling body to the ceiling. That little gimmick of hers itched a scratch Karl hadn't acknowledged until now, and he lurked on the feeling. How it stirred him awake in a way he hadn't felt in years.

He twirled a knife between his fingers and let out a strong sigh through his nostrils before approaching the woman, his breath fanning one of her bloodied ears after tossing his cigar to the floor.

"I know Alcina put you up to this, and I think I've had my fun," Karl's tone dipped with a silent rage that visibly sent a shiver down the poor girl's spine. He slowly circled around her until he was mere inches from her face, watching beads of sweat trickle down her bloodied flesh with a certain reverence. "I've decided you're not going to die right now."

"W-what are you...saying?" The girl choked between breaths, barely able to gasp much less form a coherent thought. She whimpered as Karl smirked and yanked the chain above her arms, pulling her even closer to him. She could smell grime emitting from his skin and weakly grimaced.

"Do I need to spell it out for you?" Karl mused, canting his head. "You're no longer Alcina's little errand toy. You're mine."

"W-why?"

Karl's fierce expression softened into something almost tender as he grasped her chin and quietly examined her features beyond the bruises and marks.

"Because I want you. Isn't that generous?"

The hunter swallowed hard as the weight of his words sank in. She knew she was trapped, but there was a strange allure in his offer from the very hands that had put her through misery. As Heisenberg’s fingers traced her jawline, she closed her eyes. Not accepting her fate in full, but submitting to whatever he intended to impose. She prayed for a quick death afterward.

In that moment, Karl smiled. Oh yes. He would mold her---shape her into something extraordinary, but not as a Soldat or another one of his run-of-the-mill experiments. No. He had something far more delicious up his sleeve.

As the triumph left him, he felt strangely territorial upon seeing a signature bite of Alcina's on the hunter's collarbone.

"You really let yourself become the tall bitch's blood bag?"

"I...it's not..."

The gentle look on his face morphed into something monstrous. As rage pooled in his chest, his mouth enlarged--displaying sharp teeth and big canines. He harshly bit down into the hunters flesh, thrashing as he tore her skin, and the woman screamed until her lungs were near dry.

For what felt like an eternity, Karl finally let go of her skin with a bloody pop. In between the hunters tears and shallow breath, he admired how his bite outdid his siblings little crunch. His eyes met her gaze while he growled.

"There. Nothing like a clean slate!"

The softness from before returned and Karl pressed his lips to hers, forcing the hunter to taste the warmth of his lips and her own fluids. The pained moan she let out made him grunt in return as he pulled back to admire the bloody imprint he left on both throat and mouth.

"Today's your lucky fucking day! Let's get you cleaned up." He unclipped her from the ceiling chains, watching as she fell to the ground like a lifeless doll, and crouched down to pick her up, swinging her body over his right shoulder.

As Karl carried her like a trophy of a fresh kill, he felt a thrill of anticipation. He had captured more than just a drone of Alcina's---he had found a kindred spirit. Something broken that he could tinker with and make new again in an image he'd finally have control of. Something that was his that he had taken from Alcina and she could never get back.

He'd have his revenge.

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[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Meet me where the cliff greets the Sea (part 1)

Elendil x reader

Title inspired by a verse of Elan by Nightwish. This fic is dedicated to @lady-of-imladris.

*****

The market was a fascinating place when you were a little girl: so full of things to look at and of people to meet, and exotic goods brought from merchants ailing from far away lands; foods and fabrics you had never seen before, tools and other objects whose use you could not even guess, live animals sold for company or work whose calls blended in the air, whose masters sometimes allowed you to pet them and that every time you begged your mother to buy, even though you knew your house was too small to keep a sheep... or a horse... or a pig. And then smiths and potters and tailors and scribes who had set a stall away from their shops, and the fortune teller who claimed to be able to foresee a man's future from his hand and that you were at the same time eager and too scared to consult, even though she only accepted adults as clients, vendors and buyers haggling over the prices, women arguing over who had seen a precious silk first, so many scents and different languages blending in the air...

You loved it, even when you were too young to have coin of your own to spend, you loved the excitement in the air and to have so many things to see and discover, and when your mother had to go you always asked to accompany her, even though it meant helping her carrying her purchases back home; you liked to play ball with the other children in the city's squares, swimming at the small beach near your home and having an outdoor meal in the woods surrounding the city, but had someone asked about your favourite place in the city, your answer would have been rapid, and confident: the marketplace!

Now things are different; completely, dramatically so, even, and not just because you have coin to spend and are old enough to consult a soothsayer, should you desire, and the reason why your heart is pounding so hard your chest hurts is not joy, or excitement: is fear, a fear so overpowering you have to force yourself to think clearly, and the anguish of being too late, even though you promised a reward to the captain of the ship had he brought you to your destination in two days less than normal.

It cannot be too late. It simply cannot. Not after everything I have done, and everything we had promised each other. This is not the end, it is not, I do not accept it...

It is wishful thinking, nothing more, since the danger the person you are looking for is in is a reality your hopes and prayers cannot change or improve, but even so, you force yourself to remain lucid and vigilant; you have been searching for him for more than six months, your hopes fading like a dream at dawn every time you felt close to your goal, but your determination has been strengthened, rather than abated, the longer and the more desperate your search became. Your every interest, every thought or feeling in your heart, everything you cared about, has disappeared, replaced by a single, fierce desire, a need, in the face of which everything else, including yourself, loses meaning. You have to find him, free him, and bring him back home; and you are ready to kill, and to die, for it.

This is why you barely pay attention to your surroundings as you move among the narrow streets and alleys of the marketplace, in a city you have reached only a few hours ago, the heart of Draiwen, a kingdom Númenor has long been at war with. A few vendors you have just passed catch your attention for a moment, especially the beautiful fabrics a seller is showing a potential client and that would be perfect for a dress you had in mind to have made for your daughter, but you quickly put that thought away, as well as the interest the stall of a goldsmith -you had a pair of earrings exactly like those!- arouses for a moment in your heart, and the brief, instinctual desire to stop to inspect the wares of an animal seller, a bearded man surrounded by a symphony of chirping, barking and bleating. The marketplace of the city has nothing to envy that of Armenelos, and you suspect some goods on sale here have never been seen in Númenor, but your interest does not lie on weapons, earthenware or a new pair of boots; there is only one good you aim to buy, and you are ready to burn the city down to achieve your goal.

Six months after the end of the war, the worst, and least safe, thing you might do is presenting yourself as hailing from the kingdom that has inflicted a crushing defeat on Draiwen's army and naval force; this is why you are doing your utmost to speak without an accent, have exchanged your coin with the local currency, and made sure your clothes do not betray your origins. Even so, you are still anxious, and look discretely around you to make sure no one is paying attention to you, as you walk, easily blending into the multi-colored, ever-shifting crowd.

"You said it was close." you state in the end, turning to the two men who the captain has lent ti you as your bodyguards and porters, and who have silently followed you. They do not know who you are and what you are searching for, and they probably do not care, only aiming to earn a few coins to spend on ale and dices before they need to set sail, but still, you do not trust them, like you do not trust their captain -you paid him for his services, but your kingdoms have been at odds with each other since before the two of you were born, is it so absurd to fear he wishes you harm?- or anyone who might have served in the army that has threatened to invade your home and forced your husband to fight in a war that has taken him away from you "Are you sure you can find this merchant? I feel like we have been walking for hours."

The men simply answer you will reach your destination soon, and so it is; a couple minutes later, as you pass the stall of a fruit vendor who is defending the quality of his persimmons against the protests of an unsatisfied client, a new scent reaches your nose: it is acrid, almost sour, and it needs no words to speak of fear, and desperation, and hopelessness.

It is the scent of slavery.

The merchants of flesh occupy an area of the market just like any other seller, their work stations close to make it easier for potential buyers to compare the various items, without any formal separation from the colleagues who deal in farming tools, bread or candles. The sections reserved to each vendor is delimited by lines drawn on the pavement, club and dagger-armed guards patrolling the area and occasionally striking a slave who seems ready to rebel or even just does not appear appropriately subservient. There are men and women, some barely out of their childhood and others old enough to barely stand; there are also -and the mere sight is so painful you have to divert your eyes- a few children, held in their parents' arms or sitting on the ground. Many carry the signs of the abuse they received; it is easy to see, since most slaves are barely clothed, men and women wearing only a loincloth to allow the new master to inspect their purchase, and a young man is ordered to disrobe to show exactly what the potential buyer, an older woman accompanied by a few giggling friends, is paying for. Some slaves are sold as labourers, to toil in the fields or in a mine; some women are destined to clean and cook for their masters; some, especially the younger ones, might end up sold to a brothel or becoming their masters' bedslaves, and the children born of those unions would be slaves as well, their life and death in the hands of their masters, their bodies someone else's property, their very fëa forced in chains, exploited until life itself became a burden...

The law of Númenor has declared every form of slavery illegal centuries before your birth, and while you were aware the practice still existed elsewhere, it is the first time you see it with your eyes. Suddenly you feel unable to breathe, pity and instinctive fear and a guilt you know you have no reason to feel but that still makes you unable to meet the eyes of any of these poor souls, burning in your heart. If the Valar assist you, you will find your husband and bring him away from here, but what will become of the others, only Eru knows...

Most of the slaves keep a neutral expression, stony, and whether it comes from defiance in the face of a fate some might judge worse than death, or hopelessness due to that same state of things, who can say; the eyes of some of them follow you as you pass, and -the most pitiful thing- a couple smile shyly, as if they were trying to attract your attention and have you buy them. Do they think a woman would be a kinder master? Doubtful, since there are at least a dozen others of your sex examining the slaves, their demeanour as avid and impassible as that of their male counterparts. Or there is something in you that inspires trust, hope, in those who have not an ounce left?

As always when you are sad or upset, your hand moves to touch the necklace you wear, the same you have never taken off ever since you received it. It was your husband who gave it to you, when you first started courting; a single, large and perfect pearl hanging from a simple silver chain. You were still so young back then, and since you were not married yet it would have been improper for him to gift you one of the jewels belonging to his family's fortune, but tradition was not the only reason: he paid the chain with the coin of his wage, and found the pearl himself, swimming near a secluded gulf where according to a fishmonger friend of his, the largest oysters might be found. He knew how little you cared for his family's reputation and wealth, and he wanted to express he would always take care of you, with the very strength of his body if need be, and that just like silver is one of the few metal that are not corroded, nothing would ever tarnish the love the two of you share. In the years that followed you received many precious gifts from your husband, not to mention the ones that formally become yours on the day of your wedding, since your mother-in-law had passed away years before, but nothing is more precious for you than the simple pendant that you wear every day, hidden under your dress of tunic if necessary, as a sign of the commitment you and him shared, and the love nothing, not even the will of the Valar or death itself, can break...

As always, touching the silver chain is enough to make you feel stronger, and more in control of yourself; you avert your eyes from those of the slaves, promising yourself that, if the coin you brought will be enough once you have ransomed your husband, you will buy and then set free as many of them as you can, and keep walking, finally reaching the man -in a broad sense; heartless scum would be a more exact definition- you were looking for.

He is roughly your age, comfortably sitting next to a small tent raised to shield him from the heat, with a scroll in his hands. There are only three slaves in his enclosure, neither of whom look remotely like your husband, and your heart sinks -were you given inexact information, for the umpteenth time since the beginning of your search? Or has he been sold already, which might make it infinitely harder for you to buy him back?- before you realize that, like a potter would keep some of his best vases and jars on a shelf behind the counter, those three probably represent a sample of the merchant's wares, selected for lack of space.

You already hate him, just like you despise every man or woman who earns their living selling their own race, but you force yourself to hide your disgust, and politely greet him.

"Good day to you, mistress. How may I serve you?"

"I am in need of one or two slaves for my farm, to work the fields. Do you have someo... something that might interest me?"

"I am sure I do. If you need laborers, perhaps someone like him would do."

The merchant points to one of the three slaves chained a few steps from him, each of them with a wooden tablet hanging from the neck, which illustrates the price and a few key characteristics. The older man at the centre is the most expensive, since he -apparently- is a physician who served both in peace and in war, particularly capable in assisting during childbirth; then there is a woman, an expert home-maker who appears to be at least five years older than what she is supposed to, maybe to make her more palatable as a bedslave. The third is a man of your sons' age, tall and robust, the wounds on his skin betraying a past as a soldier. Unlike the other two he looks straight at you, eyes vacant but for a flicker of resentment he seems unable to hide and that fills you with shame, even though you know you do not deserve it.

The slave receives a nod from his master, and silently steps forward, as much as the chains around his naked ankles allow him; his wrists are also enchained.

"Well? Is this man what you are looking for, mistress?" the merchant asks, now walking next to you; he is polite and attentive, as it is expected from a vendor in the company of a potential client, and there is nothing unpleasant or... unnatural in him, something that expresses the cruelty and the disdain he must feel - how could he not, given his trade? He is simply a man, a foreigner but beyond this not so different from so many other men you know, not so different from you, and this is maybe the scariest, most terrible thing you have ever had to come to terms with. "He is young, as you see, and docile; you may have someone instruct him and he will learn."

You admit he is the type of slave you are interested in purchasing, but that does not mean you will buy the first man you are shown. "Do you have anyone else like him?" you inquire, turning to face the merchant; you are acting, in a sense, playing a part not unlike the performers who entertain a crowd in a square or in a theatre, and unfortunately this is not something you have ever done before, not even as a young girl who pretended to be a warrior or a wizard as she played with her friends. Moreover, according to your parents, you have always been a terrible liar, and while you doubt the merchant will care about what you intend to do with the slaves, as long as you pay for them, what if he realizes he is important for you, more important than any other person on Arda excluding the children he gave you, and raises the price? What if he asks more than you can afford? The amount of coin you have brought with you is considerable, more than you have ever carried and way more than you feel comfortable having on your person, even though the bag is hidden by your cape, but...

You cannot lose him, especially not because you cannot simply go home and take more gold to give him and reach the requested price. After all, no one will ever be willing to pay for your husband more than you; the deal is in the interest of the merchant as much as in yours. It will be all right, you comfort yourself; you just need to remain lucid, and in a few hours, you will be together once more, and will have left this horrible place behind you.

"I was thinking about an older man, actually." you add, in your most casual tone.

"Older, mistress? But you told me you mean to have him work as a labourer." the merchant expectedly objects. You tell him that the slave you look for is of course healthy and vigorous enough to toil in the fields and take care of other manual tasks, but you have found mature men to be more serviceable, faster in learning and more docile when they receive orders; the only slaves that ever tried to rebel or refused to obey in your house were stubborn youths.

"I see." the merchant answers with a smile; he is probably wondering why a father or a husband have sent a woman to purchase the slaves, but he remains gracious and considerate in his desire to help you "I do believe I have what you need, if you are so kind as to come with me."

You simply nod, and your two bodyguards silently follow you and the merchant as he, having ordered his guards to keep an eye on the slaves while he is away, leads the three of you away from the marketplace.

"Where do you hail from, mistress?" he asks, the casual tone of someone who simply wants to converse as you walk, to pass the time, and maybe this is exactly what he means to do, and maybe not.

You answer mentioning a kingdom Númenor does not have a close relationship with, and famous for its agricultural production: you are supposed to manage a farm, after all.

"Ah, a lovely place! I have been there once, many years ago. Is this your first visit to Draiwen?"

"It is. I am... visiting a friend." you explain, since your purported homeland is ten days ride away and it would make no sense to make such a long journey only to buy a single slave "And my husband asked me to procure one or two new labourers for our farms, since Draiwen's slave market is larger than ours."

"I see. Well, here is my lot. I am sure you will be satisfied."

If you thought until now that the scent of the slaves' fear and desperation was unpleasant, it is nothing compared to the horrible stench that hits you, as violent as a slap in the face, as you near what is essentially the open warehouse of the flesh merchants. The area in front of you is larger than Armenelos' plaza, but even so, it struggles to contain the multitude of slaves waiting to be needed. Here as in the marketplace, each group is separated from the others by wooden fences not unlike those raised to keep the sheeps from wandering; here as in the marketplace, armed men patrol the area of their masters, making sure the slaves do not cause trouble. Here as in the marketplace, men and women of every age, from those who have barely learnt to walk to those who can no longer do it unassisted, wait to be inspected and sold.

The day is warm and sunny, even too warm for a cape had you not decided to wear one anyway to hide the purse with your gold and another object hanging from your belt, but the stench is not simply due to perspiration, dirt, or even urine given that you doubt the masters would allow the slaves to walk away to relieve themselves behind a tree. It is something different, putrid, difficult to describe but so intense and nasty it makes your eyes water... the smell of desperation.

There must be thousands of slaves, but the merchant moves unhesitatingly guiding you and the two men behind you to his post, where a couple of guards have just finished using their clubs on a man.

"What happened?"

"He meant to escape, sir. He had a rock in his hand and was trying to break the chain at his feet."

The poor soul is laying on the ground, almost too weak and pained to moan, bruises already forming on his belly and legs; your heart stops beating for a moment as you catch a glimpse of brown hair and large shoulders, but the slave does not have your husband's prodigious height, nor, you realize when the guards rudely get him back on his feet, his luminous blue eyes. It is not him, you realize, and the relief filling your heart is so intense your knees go weak... which does not mean, on the other hand, that your husband is still unscathed after six months of captivity. What have they done to him, what abuse or torture was he subjected to in order to break his spirit...?

Meanwhile, the merchant is chiding his guards for what they have done to the would-be fugitive... only a few days before the crown prince himself has sent word he would visit the marketplace to choose a few new slaves for his household; the slave is one of the master's finest, literate and a capable warrior, and could be sold for a large sum: in the state he is now, who would buy him? Incidents like those have their use, since the slaves need to be reminded what occurs to those who try to escape, but if they had to pummel one of them, the guards should have chosen one of the least expensive.

"Now, mistress." he adds, turning to you -one instant too slow to notice the horror and the hate on your face; you do not even know the name of this man, and still you would not shed a tear seeing him choke on his own blood- and smiling once more "Allow me to show you my wares."

A brief order is given, and the slaves quickly assemble in a line, shuffling among the clangor of their chains to march in front of you, slowly enough to allow you to examine them, and their master to present you the merits of each: this one was a farmer, so you would not have to teach him the job; another is particularly strong, which makes him suitable for the most strenuous tasks; the next can read and write, which would make him useful should you need a bookkeeper or a clerk...

As expected from a capable merchant, he seems to know all of them by heart, even though there are not less than eighty men slowly being presented to you. Or maybe he is making the whole thing up, you reflect as you pretend to listen and feel as if the world had started working backwards; usually you are the one who slowly strolls among the stalls looking at the various goods on sale, while now it is the items themselves parading in front of you.

A few of the slaves try to attract your attention, showing their muscles or bowing their head in a show of submission; you feel unworthy of being in their presence, but you force yourself to remain as stoic as you can and glance at the men slowly approaching, hoping, begging to see a familiar face...

And finally, when there are only a handful of slaves left and your hopes are reduced to the flame of a candle, it happens.

"Hey, you; keep walking." one of the guards orders one of the slaves, who had suddenly stopped, forcing the ones behind him to do the same; the man obeys, barely noticing what he is doing, because his eyes -those eyes as blue and deep as the Sea, more luminous than the star of Eärendil his ancestor, those eyes that can read your mind and your heart as easily as the best-written scroll in the Hall of Lore, those eyes you have fallen in love with- are firmly fixed on you, just like yours cannot leave his form.

Elendil! Such is the intensity with which your beloved's name explodes in your mind, for a moment you are almost certain you have actually shouted it, revealing you know him and potentially ruining any chance you had to bring him home. Thank Eru you did not, and no one has noticed the brief glance you have shared; you briefly smile at him, hoping to reassure him, and then force yourself to move your eyes to the men being presented before him; finally, when the slave immediately preceding your husband is in front of you "Stop now." you ask, and the man obeys "What can you tell me about this one?"

The merchant, who had grown both concerned and annoyed as he saw you pass over his best slaves without a word, sighs with relief and rushes to exalt the talents of the man, describing his strenght, his obedient spirit, and the many ways you could put him to work in. You pretend to listen, while actually you are still looking at Elendil out of the corner of your eye.

He is alive, strong and healthy enough to walk on his legs, but captivity has not been kind to him, as it almost never is: you can see how tired and weak he appears, even though there is still determination, even defiance, in his eyes and in the head held high despite the orders and the repeated abuse, and there are bruises and wounds, some months old and some fresh, on his chest and arms and face.

Oh, my love; oh, my lord husband! What have they done to you? How dared they? I will kill them, each and everyone of...

"You are welcome to inspect him yourself, mistress, if that pleases you." the merchants offers, unaware that you would gladly stab him in the heart -an extremely small target, no doubt- once for each of the men he is keeping captive. You do not answer, but step forward to examine the man, feigning interest in his musculature and hands and even his teeth, that he obediently shows you. You then pass to look at the slave before him, pretending to consider a double purchase and asking a few questions regarding his age and abilities that the merchant promptly answers... and then finally, almost distractedly, walk to Elendil.

"And about him, what can you tell me?"

"I am not sure he is what you need, mistress; he is still vigorous for his age, but he was a soldier and a mariner in his homeland, he has no experience in farming. You would have to teach him the job."

"Oh, I can teach him what I need him to do, no doubt." you answer, your practical tone hiding a more personal meaning that only the man in front of you can catch. Turning your back to the merchant and his guards, and still aware of how dangerous it is, you touch Elendil's face pretending to examine his face for bruises or defects; your thumb brushes against his lower lip, and you feel him quiver under your touch. "Where do you hail from, man?"

"He..."

"My homeland is in Númenor, mistress." your husband quickly cuts his master off; he speaks with the humbleness befitting a slave, but a brief smile on his lips betrays his understanding of how that last word, pronounced in that tone, makes you feel. Two can play this game, my wife, he is telling you, as usual between you without the need for words. His blue eyes follow your every move, the intensity of his gaze a mixture of shock, relief, and fear. What are you doing here? How did you find me? You should not have come, it is dangerous...

"Númenor. A land of great mariners, is it not?"

"It is, mistress."

"And are you one of them?"

"I am, mistress. If you own a ship or desire to buy one, I am your man."

Those last words are brazen, even dangerous given the situation you are both in, but you cannot help smiling. Of course you are, you wish you could tell him, and you will, as soon as you have fed him, bathed him, and kissed him long enough to leave both of you senseless, you have always been, ever since our eyes met on the harbour that day, even before we knew each other's name, you are my man and I am your woman, and Eru Himself could do nothing to separate us...

"Interesting."

You need to stop, now. The longer you keep talking to him, the longer you even just pay attention to him, the more you risk the merchant realizes you have a particular interest in this man and raises the price above what you can afford. You should have barely looked at him, and proposed to buy him simply because no one else had caught your attention, but you cannot help it. Having Elendil in front of you, wounded but alive and close enough you can touch him and hear his voice, is like a cup of cold water after a week spent wandering in the desert. For six months you have feared for his safety and for his very life, crying until you had no more tears to spill and sleep had eluded you for many nights in a row; you had feared you would never see him again, doomed to spend the rest of your life alone after so many years of joy and bliss by his side...

But the Valar have listened to your prayers, and your husband is here in front of you; you know how easy it is to fail when the success is within sight and one is prone to lower their guard and abandon caution, and the last thing you want is to have Elendil snatched from you a moment before you are finally together.

This is why you step back, and ask the merchant to show you the last slaves, and the sad parade of chained men resumes shuffling in front of you. Elendil has lowered his gaze, and you wonder why, whether he is forcing yourself not to look at you fearing he could betray himself, or if, like you, he is trying to hide his tear-filled eyes.

Once all the slaves are back in line, the men of your escort accompany you as you inspect some of them, as if you were now ready to choose after examining the whole lot. You linger in front of a few of them, hoping to make the merchant forget the particular interest you have shown Elendil, asking about one slave's health and another's talents as a labourer.

"Are you satisfied, mistress?" the merchant asks in the end; the heat is making him pant under his heavy robes, and he has started fanning himself with his hand, but he has remained friendly and helpful, the image of a good vendor willing to serve a client in any way he can, patiently answering your many, specious questions. There is nothing unpleasant about him, you reflect once more, nothing that betrays the cruelty and the ruthlessness you know dwell in his heart; that does not make you hate him any less, but for some reason you wished it were easier...

"I am. I think I have made my choice." you are quick to answer; he is not the only one suffering because of the heat -you even wore a cape!- but that is not the only reason you cannot wait to seal the deal and leave... in sweet company, preferably "Is there somewhere we can discuss privately?"

You force yourself not to turn to glance one last time at your husband, and at the other poor souls you wish you could all free, and let the merchant accompany you back to the marketplace, your guards following you in turn. Elendil is hidden in the back of the small host of slaves, but you could swear you feel his blue eyes on you, following your every movement, begging you not to abandon him...

I am not; I promise. I will buy you, whatever the price, even if I had to sell the clothes on my back, even if I had to sell myself. Resist, my love, soon we will be together again...

Even with the anxiety clutching at your heart, you cannot help sighing with relief when the pleasant shade of the merchant's tent welcomes you, the temperature more bearable now that you are hidden from the sun. The merchant smile as he removes his outer tunic, and you are not surprised to see a dagger hanging from his belt, the blade longer than the one you are hiding.

The space under the tent is in large part empty, except for a crate, a pair of straw chairs and a small round table with a pitcher and a few cups.

"Are you sure you do not want to remove your cape, mistress?"

"Thank you, but no; I am not staying long, I have to set sail tonight. I will take two of your slaves; the one with the scar on his left cheek, and the one you told me you bought last week." you announce, as you accept the cup of water the man is offering you; you have chosen two slaves who had already worked as farmhands, hoping this will make your cover more believable "How much would you ask for them?"

"You have chosen well; and also, two of my best men. A hundred gold pieces each."

He smiles, waiting. You politely smile back, well aware of what it is expected in a place and a moment like this and determined to give him nothing more than what you strictly have to; the mere thought of this man indulging in his vices -or even worse, buying more slaves to resell- with your family's gold fills you with rage. "I will give give you one hundred and fifty for both."

"They are both strong and hale, good workers who will serve you for many years. One hundred and ninety."

"The one with the scar has the signs of the pox; there is no guarantee he is actually as healthy as you claim. One hundred and sixty."

"Eighty. You are good, but it is my last offer."

"Sixty-five. We both know it is more than enough. Or..."

"Or?"

You have drunk the entire content of the cup in a single gulp, so thirsty you were, and yet you still feel parched, as if the anxiety had taken every drop of water in your body. This is the moment, you think; if you do not play your cards well, it will all be for nothing, and Elendil will be lost forever.

"I might give you the two hundreds you requested, if you add a third man to the deal." you offer, hoping to sound less desperate than you feel, and the merchant's smile turns into a grin: the whole bargain is amusing for him, as well as an art he is surely a master of, but that does not mean he intends to favour you.

"A third man?" he repeats, feigning outrage "But mistress, that would mean gifting him to you."

"Two hundred and fifty, then. What about... one of the two twins?"

"They are worthy three hundred pieces each!"

"Well, then, who would you be willing to give me?"

The merchant mentions four different slaves, who obviously you refuse. "Please, mistress, be reasonable; your request simply makes no sense." he protests as he opens his arms in a gesture of impotence "Nothing would delight me more than sell my slaves to you; I am sure you would be pleased. But you understand, surely, that I have to make a profit out of your purchase, not a loss."

You pretend to think about it, walking aimlessly around the tent and feeling your heart beating so hard it hurts. Brave heart. Soon it will all be worth it. "There was a man among your slaves who had experience as a mariner, was there not?" you finally ask, as an afterthought.

"There was; the man from Númenor. But I do not think he is what you are looking for."

"Not as a farmhand, perhaps, but he might prove himself useful to me in other ways. My... brother is a sea captain, and recently he had to dismiss many of his crewmembers because of a reversal of fortune. I might buy the slave for him, and he would not have to pay him."

It is a good story -a reasonable, believable story- even though you had no more than a few seconds to devise it, but still, you are holding your breath while the merchant considers your proposal, and finally...

"You would take a weight out of my hands, mistress, but in confidence, I do not recommend him; in four months since I have brought him, that man has already attempted to escape three times, sent two guards to the healers' tent after they had tried to discipline him, and my men have found out he was inciting the other slaves to riot. Are you sure you want to burden your brother with a man of his temperament?"

"My brother is more than capable to keep his men in line; and at least, I will not have to worry about what to buy for his next name-day." you answer; victory is so close you can almost taste it "So are we in agreement? The captain, and the other two, for twohundred and fifty gold pieces?"

"We are."

You shake hands, and as the merchant retrieves quill, ink and parchment from the chest to write a brief contract, you take your purse from under your cape and start counting the coin to give him, ordering your hands to stop shaking.

"How did you know he was a captain?"

The bag falls from your hands.

"What?"

"I said, how did you know that man is a sea captain? You called him as such, only a minute ago."

You are facing each other by now, the man in front of you still all smiles and solicitude, but every semblance of actual friendliness abandoned. "Well, mistress?"

"You... you told me that. While we were..."

"I told you he was a mariner; to call him captain is a completely different matter, even though I would not be surprised, since the other slaves have quickly come to look at him for leadership, after I acquired him; he is clearly a man used to command. But how could you know? Either you can read minds... or you knew that man beforehand, and you came here expressely to ransom him."

Silence has fallen in the tent, the sounds and voices of the marketplace attenuated, as if reaching you from many miles away, or if you were underwater. You cannot speak, you cannot move, not even to pick up the gold coins scattered on the ground around your feet, you cannot even think, but one thing is certain: you have been discovered. This man knows what game you are playing, which means that you are alone, or at least vastly outnumbered, in a kingdom that in the last century has spent more time at war with yours than not; he could order his men to seize you and make a slave out of you as well, and then what would become of you? You would never see Elendil, and your children, again... or he might let you go, and simply refuse to let you buy your husband, out of spite for a woman of his kingdom's worst enemy.

In your heart, you could not say which hypothesis would hurt you more.

"Who is he, then? For you, I mean, what makes him so important? Have you been sent from his family to ransom him, or from Númenor's own Queen? Is he a nobleman, a person of importance? Or did you come out of your own free will, mistress? I do not believe he is your kin, you look nothing alike. Is he a friend of yours? No... there is somethting more, is there not? He must be your lover; or maybe the two of you are already wed? If so, he is a fortunate man, to be loved so much that his wife undergoes such a long journey to find him... and since there is so little love in Draiwen for the people of the Land of the Star."

Apparently he is the one with the ability to read minds, or maybe your feelings and thoughts are so evident on your face, even someone who does not know you can guess them. You are lost, you think, and worse even, you have lost Elendil, and being owned by the same master does not mean you would not be separated, and your children will lose you as well as him...

Any moment now the merchant will call for his guards and have you brought to the enclosure, or maybe somewhere else, where he keeps his female slaves or those he still needs to train. Still, any attempt you do not make today is one you will regret tomorrow.

"I always thought the sake of business went above and beyond reasons of patriotism." you state, head held high and voice steady "I have no quarrel with Draiwen, or its people; I did not come into this kingdom to hurt anyone, and I will leave as soon as I can."

"I believe you; but why should I let you go? I await for a visit of the crown prince himself, the day after tomorrow; what prevents me from seizing you and hand you over to him, a daughter of his worst enemy arrived on Draiwen in disguise? He would probably reward me handsomely."

"Probably." you repeat "While I could reward you right now; it would be easy, and no one else would need to know. Name your price, I will take a rebellious slave out of your hands, and in twenty minutes you will be free to forget ever meeting us."

The merchant appears to reflect on your offer as you pick the coins up from the ground; he looks at the bag in your hands, as if assessing the exact sum it contains. "Would you pay me three hundred gold pieces for your friend, if I promised to let both of you go?"

"I would."

"Fourhundred?"

"Yes."

"Fivehundred."

It is almost everything you have. "Yes."

"What if I took it, and you, and kept him?"

"Then I would kill you." you simply answer; he does not know you are armed, and in his eyes you must look the most harmless creature, a simple woman, alone -you are not, but you doubt your bodyguards would actually fight to defend you, and even if they did, they would be two against ten- untrained to war or fight; but he must see something in your eyes, the desperation and the awareness that if you lost Elendil you will have nothing left to live for, or to lose, because he does not laugh, but

"What else do you have to give me in exchange for him?" he asks.

"You can have all of it if you want; it is little more than fivehundred gold pieces."

"You are very generous, mistress. But I was not talking about that; coin is not the only valuable thing that can pay a debt, other types of arrangements also exist - now, do not look at me like that, that is not what I mean; you are a very attractive woman, but I like to keep pleasure and business separated."

"Then what do you mean, exactly?" you ask, confused, and worried, a strange foreboding making you fear you will soon regret he did not order you to take your clothes off. There is nothing, literally nothing in the world you would not do to free Elendil, but... "I have nothing else to offer. I am not a person of importance in Númenor, I am wealthy enough to pay an high price for him but I have no influence or power; what else can I give you? Do you want my earrings? My cape? My shoes? My own hair?"

He is still looking at you. "What is that?" he suddenly asks, pointing at your neck... or rather, to the simple silver chain peeking out from under your shirt.

"It... it is a necklace."

"Show me, please."

"It is worth very little; it is little more than a trinket I received when I was a girl..."

"Show me." he orders you, extending his hand; there is still a smile on his face, and steel in his eyes "Please."

The moment of hesitation before taking off the necklace and handing it to him seals your doom, for good and ill. The merchant delicately takes your most precious possession and examines it carefully.

"Ah! Very pretty. The chain is simple silver, but I had never seen such a large pearl." he says "Is it a childhood gift? Or was it your friend who gave it to you?"

"Fivehundred gold pieces for him." you reply; your self restraint is running out and you know "This necklace is worth next to nothing compared to that. Take my coin and let me leave."

"What if I took only what your friend is actually worth, let us say eighty gold pieces, and the necklace instead?"

"Then you would be a very stupid man, taking only one sixth of what you could."

The merchant admits you are not wrong; and renouncing to a large profit on a whim would be foolish. On the other hand, he is wealthy and successful in what he does enough to indulge in some harmless pleasure, and he has sensed the necklace is much more precious for you than its actual price would suggest.

"So what? You expect me to ransom that as well? Are you actually after my money, and in the meantime you are playing with me?"

"I am not. You see..." He hesitates for a moment, as if explaining his reasoning and his motives to you were important, as if he really wanted you to understand "I am a merchant; I care for gold, whoever pays it, whatever the good purchased, does not matter. At the same time, though... Sometimes, when you are in my trade, you learn that the value of some things does not necessarily depend on the coin that might be exchanged for it. I know that I would not earn much from your necklace, even if I sold the pearl and the chain separatedly. On the other hand, I only need to look at you to see it is precious for you, precious enough you wish you could cut the hand that took it from yours. And this is why I want it, even if it means earning a lower price for my slave."

Silence.

"Do you understand what I am saying, mistress?" he asks, clearly convinced this is the case; and you do understand, and while you thought you could not despise this man any more than you already did, you are forced to reconsider.

"If you want it, you have to give me the other two slaves as well." you reply; it may be petty, other than probably hopeless, but you are determined not to let him have the last word.

The merchant bursts out laughing; he seems sincerely amused. "Not even if all the Gods came down to order me to do it, mistress. Not a chance."

"Two slaves of your choice, then; and I will pay a hundred gold pieces for each of them." you insist; those men mean nothing for you, but spending your coin to ransom as many of them as you can seems the most natural choice, as well as one you know your husband will not reproach you for "Those no buyer will ever want; you will make a profit in any case, will you not?"

The merchant is still smiling; there is sincere merriment in his eyes, and complete and utter lack of mercy. "Sparring with you is amusing, mistress; but we had our fun, and now we have to discuss serious matters."

"I am being extremely serious."

"You are also being extremely naive, and blind to the good fortune you are having and that might run out soon. I will sell you the captain for eighty gold pieces and this pretty trinket; I will also have him bathed and clothed, as a personal favour for you... And I will tell no one, not even to one of the many guards who patrol the marketplace, many of which fought in the war against Númenor, who you are. If I can offer you a word of advice, the sooner you leave this tent, and Draiwen, the better it will be for the two of you."

He is still smiling, but appealing to his good heart and his mercy would be as useless as trying to reason with a famished lion. Wordlessly, you take the agreed sum off your bag and leave the coins on the table, next to your necklace; you brush your fingers against the pearl, the one Elendil had spent a whole day searching because none of the many he had found, and that he had gifted to his fishmonger friend, were large enough, and sufficiently beautiful, for his gift you, and you fell ashamed, even though you could have not done otherwise, and sad, as if you were saying farewell to a person you love.

A few minutes later the merchant offers you a slip of parchment with the proof of your purchase, that you will have to keep until you are safe back in Númenor.

"I need to leave as soon as possible; give him clothes, but there is no time for a bath." you state brusquely; you have your husband back, safe and sound, but then why does it not feel like a victory, rather the opposite? "I will be waiting outside."

"As you wish, mistress. It was a pleasure doing business with you." the merchant answers; you avert his eyes, because you know he is still smiling.

You do not answer, but turn and leave the tent, ordering yourself to walk instead of running.

TAGGING @starlady66 and @hippodameia.

[furby-organist]

// REGARDING THE EXTERMINATION BROADCAST, A MUSE COMPARISON, LOCAL ALASTOR VS. ALLIE.

I didn't do much this past year, but since 2020, the Annual Extermination has been a very fun blog event because Local Alastor broadcasts the entire 24 hours. It's his day to SHINE! He reports on the whereabouts of exorcists, reports on the crackhead behavior that sinners are doing (à la Florida Hurricane Party shenanigans), takes song requests, has sinners call in and chat/shout-out/share stories, and very importantly, documents what people are seeing on the ground. One year, someone reported that the exorcists couldn't go near an antique shop. His broadcast documents stuff like this for the researchers who study exorcists and how to defeat them.

It's his day to feel helpful, one day a year where everyone is far more afraid of another threat (the exorcists) than they are of him. He's everyone's friend that day. He's a man of the people like how radio is the medium of the people. Man, Hell SUCKS and he can't stop the end of the world but he sure can turn it into a party! He can keep everyone's morale high! He can't stop the genocide but he certainly can broadcast & DJ his own genocide! Joy is a tool of resistance anyway! Refusing to succumb to despair is a form of resistance!

So he broadcasts. He suspects that it puts him in the line of fire. I think his exterminator 'ex' somewhat confirmed as much. Maybe he'll die and be free from his eternal boredom. He thinks about it. If he's going to die, he wants to die on air. He wants a glorious death and he wants it broadcasted.

So, that's on Alexa.

Allie, on the other hand -- she stopped doing extermination broadcasts a while ago.

She knows that they put her in the line of fire. She doesn't want to die, like at all. Not passively. Hell sucks but she's good at making lemonade out of lemons, much better than Alexa, actually, and she has a lot of lemonade left to make. She feels like she has a new lease on life and she deserves to get some more mileage out of her existence!

She's also seen an uglier side of the sinner population than Alexa has, anyway, and she's like "very few of you deserve me putting myself in the line of fire for your stupid asses anyway" so for the past however many years, she's done shit like gigs at rich doomsday prepper shelters. Fun shit. She really has a good time!

But she's considering picking the broadcast back up. Part of her still feels like it's her duty to humanity as Thee Radio Host, even if the humans around her are a self-selecting group of the worst ones. It was a fun broadcast when she did it. And she's feeling like a bit of a coward now. The Opposition is escalating by doing Genocide 2: Electric Boogaloo. Maybe this is her time to get back to resisting, instead of hiding.

[sekhithefops]

Sekhi's Zombie Survival Guide for 7 Days to Die!

Step 1: Do the Tutorial!

It seems obvious, but its a damn good idea. When you first appear in the world of 7 Days to Die you'll start out with a few quests to get you to understand the systems. Even if you already know the gist, its best to do them anyways as doing them gives you FOUR skill points right from the word go, as well as some beginner gear.

Speaking of skill points...

Step 2: Whatcha Good At?

Are you a sharpshooter? A big burly brain-basher? A sneaky stealth-killer? A rigger who makes all sorts of crazy tools? In 7 Days to Die you have five stats that govern your abilities, and this is how they work.

Perception

How good you are at being observant and noticing details. The abilities you can get from this are how to make proper explosives, use a rifle, track animals, and find more loot and other treasures.

Two skills I highly recommend from this are Lucky Looter and Salvage Operations. Lucky Looter makes you more likely to find better loot overall and Salvage Operations gives you more resources from breaking down other things (which we'll go over later.)

Strength

How big, burly, and head-bashy you are! Strength is used for weapons like shotguns and clubs, and also for things like increasing how much you can carry without becoming encumbered as well as your ability to cook (gotta be able to take the heat in the kitchen!) Also heavier armor proficiency is measured via strength.

This also has the Miner 69'er and Mother Lode talents, which govern how fast you can cut down trees and mine metals and other precious materials, as well as how much you get from doing so. Very useful to all builds!

Fortitude

How beefy are you? Fortitude governs unarmed weapons like knuckledusters, as well as the use of machine guns. It also manages traits like Huntsman and Living off the Land which govern how much food you get from harvesting animals and plants respectively.

The big ones for any build are the Recovery Perks though: Healing Factor, Iron Gut, and Rule 1: Cardio. Healing Factor gives you health regeneration, Iron Gut makes you get hungry and thirsty slower, and Rule 1: Cardio makes your stamina regenerate faster.

Agility

Gottagofast! Agility is how fast you are, how good you can handle weapons like bows, handguns, and knives, and other things.

Light armor is governed by this stat, as are things like firing guns from the hip.

The big skill here for all builds is Parkour. It governs jumping ability, but also how far you can fall without getting injured. A fall from a height may not kill you in this game sometimes, but it can result in a broken leg! This, combined with a nearby zombie horde, will likely spell doom if you're not prepared (or very lucky.)

Intellect

SCIENCE!!! Intellect governs weapons like the shock baton, which can send enemies flying with a blast of electricity, as well as automated turrets and the creation thereof.

It also manages most crafting skills such as Advanced Engineering (workbench crafting for weapons, armor, etc,) Grease Monkey (making and maintaining vehicles,) and Physician (medicines and other remedies.)

The really useful one however is Better Barter, which lets you sell for more and buy for less from Traders (which we'll get into soon.)

Step 3: Home Sweet Hellhole

You can build your own bases in this game! You can... but its time consuming, takes a lot of resources, and will provide slow minimal protection.

Instead, take a lesson from the noble hermit crab and do what I did!

Find a good house in a suburban area, preferably near a city or shopping district with lots of good resources nearby.

Go inside the house and kill the everloving hell out of everything inside.

Punch a hole in the wall near the middle and put your land claim block (EXTREMELY IMPORTANT!) in there, thus generating a 'zombie no spawn here' field in all directions and claiming the house as your own!

(Insert your favorite joke about the American Housing Market here.)

Whats neat too is that you can use the Land Claim Block to show where the boundaries are for the safe zone it creates, thats how I know where to set up my defensive walls around the building.

You can toggle that on and off so you don't have giant neon green lines hanging around, but it can be useful for spotting your base at a distance as you get used to your new neighborhood.

Once you have it set up, just toss your bedroll on the ground in one of the rooms to mark a spawn point and get to building some defenses. Congrats, you are now surviving! Round of applause.

Step 4: The Post-Apocalypse Economy!

You're not the only survivor in the world. Trader Joel and his buddies have set up shop in every city in the world and will sell you all sorts of useful goodies if you have the coin.

The literal coin that is. Dollars are basically toilet paper in this world (literally sometimes) as the US Government collapsed when Joe Biden's infection progressed too far and he tried to eat the brain of one of his aides.

Funny enough it took the Secret Service about fifteen minutes to realize something was wrong, then another five to finish arguing over who was going to shoot him.

Instead, the post apocalypse uses Dukes, a casino token, as it's currency.

I recommend setting aside a spot in your base for stuff to sell to the traders. Anything you're not planning on using, mods that you have a lot of, medicines you don't want to bother with like steroids in my case, etc.

This is important as some stuff you can ONLY get from the traders! Early on you learn how to make a dew collector to gather drinkable water, but only the traders have the water filters you need to actually build the thing!

Speaking of water...

Step 5: Feed me! Feeeeeeeeeeeeed me!

Food is a concern in the post apocalypse. The local grocery stores ain't getting a resupply anytime soon and McDonald's is right out. You gotta learn how to cook buddy!

Cooking skills are governed by the Strength ability Master Chef and you can learn how to make everything from basic water and grilled beef up to hot coffee and fine tea along with meat stews and other wasteland delicacies. Infact, the better you eat the more health and stamina you have, so get cooking!

To cook you need some fuel (wood, paper, coal, etc) and the right tools. You slot the tools into place (see the upper right there) and it lets you craft the food if you know how. The tools are as follows:

Cooking Pot: Lets you boil murky water to make it safe, as well as making stews and other useful things.

Cooking Grill: Lets you grill meat, corn, and lots of other things. Tasty!

Measuring Cup: Lets you make things like glue from water and bones, and other useful but non-edible stuff.

Pick your foods, turn it on, and let it go and it'll grill you up a feast... but remember to turn it back off once you're done or else you're just wasting fuel... and something might notice the heat from the fire...

But of course to make dinner you need ingredients! Food can be hard to come by as I said above... but you have options. You can hunt animals such as rabbits, deer, chicken, and the like for meat. Kill one and take out a knife or other cutting tool, then butcher it into cuts of meat, cooking fat, and other useful things!

As for veggies you can raid ruined restaurants and storefronts, root through the ruins of people's kitchens, and the like... or you can just grow the stuff!

To grow you need two things: seeds and a farm plot. The farm plots are tricky as you need four things to make one:

Potassium Nitrate

Rotten Meat

Clay Soil

Wood

The Clay Soil and Wood are easy, just need a shovel and axe and a bit of wooded area. Five minutes of work and you're set.

As for the others... well potassium nitrate is something you can mine if you find large white deposits of it in the ground (they look like white crystals) but there is... another way...

Welcome to the Post-Apocalypse kids. Harvesting the bodies of those who didn't escape the zombie horde gets you potassium nitrate and rotten meat for fertilizing your new farm plots! Yummy!

Well, I'm sure the corn thinks they're yummy anyways.

But to make the seeds and food you need to know how to do it... and as for how that works...

Step 6: Read, or the Zombies Will Eat You

Books! There's two types of books in this world.

One time use trait books that give you a big bonus in one go, but you can only benefit from once, and magazines that you can use to learn tidbits of information that unlock tiers of knowledge for making... well... everything!

The magazines are the important ones, and I'll detail a few examples here:

Home Cooking Weekly: Yep, gotta know the recipe before you can make the pie! Reading this unlocks all sorts of cooking tricks. It starts simple with grilled corn and baked potatoes, but the more you read the more you unlock all the way up to things like homemade beer and pasta!

Forge Ahead: Be a Do-it-Yourself-er! This teaches you how to make things like the all important Dew Collector for gathering drinkable water, as well as forges, workbenches, and other things for making everything you need to survive.

Handgun Magazine: Do ya feel lucky, punk? Learn all about the crafting and maintenance of handguns from this book. Early issues give you the knowledge to make better scrap metal guns out of pipes and other found materials, moving up to crafting pistols, magnum revolvers, and even SMGs!

As for the other type of books, those all unlock one of several tiers of knowledge, each specific to a specific volume. But if you manage to unlock them all you get a special bonus for doing so! These include:

Batter up!: All you ever wanted to know about the Great American Pastime (or what was that before, yanno, zombies) Baseball! While this knowledge won't help you much with winning in the big leagues, it will let you know how to swing a baseball bat or club with devastating results for whoever is on the receiving end! Stuff like "Do 10% more damage with clubs," and "craft chain mods for bats and clubs to give them better knockdown chance" and the like. If you manage to find them all, you get a perk that makes power attacks give you back your stamina if they kill a zombie!

Wasteland Treasures: A series of handwritten notes by another survivor who endured after the bombs fell and the dead rose. These include tricks like how to harvest honey from trees when you chop them down (extremely useful for reasons we'll get into below,) find precious gems and jewelry in coffins, how to weave basic plant fibers into useable cloth, and the like. At the highest tier you learn how to harvest Military Fibers, which are used to create the strongest light armor in the game!

Whats more, if you stumble across a book you've already read the traders will pay good coin for them! Don't throw them out if you can avoid it, save 'em and sell 'em!

But now that you have knowledge its time to put it to use...

Step 7: I'm smelting! SMEEEEELTING!!!

Once you have some forge ahead magazines under your belt and in your noggin, you can make forges and workbenches! These are used to make, well, everything!

The forge works similar to the cooking fire, except that it has different tools. This one uses the following:

Advanced Bellows: Improves airflow in the forge to make resources smelt faster (see below.)

Anvil: You can hammer out iron and steel more efficiently! Crafting speed is faster!

Crucible: The pinnacle of blacksmithing tools. Allows the creation of advanced items such as steel bars and bulletproof glass, among others.

However, its not enough to have the raw materials, you need to smelt them into useable forms! How you do this is fill up the forge with fuel, put the items you want to smelt in the smelting slots, then just turn it on and... well... fuck off for a bit.

It'll convert them over time into useable raw materials, banking them in the forge itself, until it either runs out of fuel or materials.

Once you have them you can then convert them into iron bars, nails, glass, and all sorts of useful things.

From there, the workbench comes into play:

The workbench is where you make basically everything, from repair kits to weapons to armor to decorations. The works. Once you have one of these the game really opens up.

All you need is the component parts in your inventory and to tell the workbench to get working. Then in a few minutes, boom, new toys.

A new feature in Alpha 21 that I really like a lot is being able to track recipes too! Select a thing you wanna make and press A on the keyboard and the game keeps a running inventory of whats left to craft it. Super useful!

But now one of the best things to use that workbench for...

Step 8: Have Wrench, Will Travel

Making vehicles! 7 Days to Die has vehicles in it and they are vital to late game and extremely useful at any time. Each vehicle improves your mobility of course, but they also have the benefit of additional storage letting you make longer and longer treks out into the post-apocalyptic ruins!

There's five of them, and I'll detail them here.

Bicycles: The basic vehicle, a standard push bicycle with a little basket for storing goodies you find in ruins. A nice bonus, but going fast in it still drains your stamina and it can't hold much.

Minibike: A little scooter that uses gasoline instead of your legs to go and has more storage, but its fairly fragile and isn't that much faster. Faster than most zombies though so yay there.

Motorcycle: NOW we're hitting the road! The motorcycle is much faster and can hold quite a bit more, and whats more... once you have this vehicle or the next one you no longer need to be afraid of zombies on the roads... THE ZOMBIES NEED TO BE AFRAID OF YOU!!! Ramming into a zombie on a motorcycle at top speed will damage the bike, but it will do TREMENDOUS damage to the zombie, usually killing it outright! Still, you will want to keep some repair kits handy if you plan on making roadkill of the undead horde.

4x4 Truck: Its mah gahtdang truck Bobby! The pinnacle of land-based transport, the truck is a tank. Its a huge jeep with a ton of storage space and good armor that can travel great distances... but takes a lot of fuel to run.

Gyrocopter: Wendy I can fly! ... but not very well. I'll admit I haven't used one of these in a long time, several patch cycles ago, but when I tried it the thing flew like a drunk housefly. Can't recommend, stick with the truck.

The thing is, everything beyond the bike takes gasoline... and that's a resource you'll want a LOT of if you plan on driving much. So I'm sure you and Max Rockatansky want to know how to get their hands on as much as you can... well, there's three ways.

Refine Oil Shale

This one isn't an option until very late in the game as you'll need a chemistry workbench to make it and those take a while to unlock, but inside desert biomes you'll sometimes see these rainbow-colored rocks. This is oil shale and with a modicum of work with a pickaxe or other mining tool you'll have gas for days once you refine it. Find a good mine for this and you're set for the long haul.

Early on however you have two options:

Go to the Gas Station

Yeah its obvious, but its obvious because it works! Ruined gas pumps can be salvaged for gasoline, and intact ones you can just take gas from. Sometimes they'll have barrels of the stuff laying around or in storage areas too. Also keep an eye out for factories with the "Pass-n-Gas" sign, those are oil refineries. Those have LOTS.

But one other benefit to gas stations is what else is there...

Salvage Wrecked Cars

The cars! Their loss is your gain! Break down the cars to harvest all sorts of useful components such as scrap metal, plastics, mechanical parts, and of course whats left in their own gas tanks! Any car can be salvaged in this way, from family sedans all the way up to construction vehicles and big rig trucks... however...

Beware Police Cruisers!

And not for the usual reasons. These things are abandoned now, but are always locked. Thing is, they have a higher chance of REALLY GOOD loot! This one pictured had two hundred 9mm bullets inside (used for protecting our freedoms I'm sure.) You can pick the lock on them to get inside, but if you don't have the lockpicks or aren't confident you can get in without running out you can just salvage the car with a wrench to break the lock open... however...

Police Cruisers Have Car Alarms!!!

Whats rule number one of any zombie apocalypse kids? Thats right: NO LOUD NOISES!

Breaking into a cop cruiser without picking the lock will set off the car alarm, and this will often spawn several VERY strong zombies nearby! This mob was a bunch of nasty ones, including a cop zombie (think it was his car?) that I then had to fight off before I could loot the car and make my escape.

So yeah, you can loot cop cars, but you better be damn ready when you do... or else.

Which brings us nicely into our next item on the agenda...

Step 9: OH FUCK! ZOMBIES!

The zombies! The walking dead! Those who hunger for your brains, and perhaps any other choice morsels, they're not picky eaters.

The zombies come in several varieties, and I'll detail the nastier ones below.

Feral Zombies: These zombies look like normal ones, but their eyes glow and they move faster. They also hit harder and have more health. Its hard to spot them at first since they otherwise look the same, but if you see one its best to kill it fast.

Radioactive Zombies: Its a bit chicken-and-egg as to whether the bombs dropping caused the zombie apocalypse or the zombie apocalypse was why they bombed the cities in the hopes of containing it... but even nuclear fallout just makes them stronger. These zombies are like ferals, except that they also regenerate health at an alarming rate! You can just sustain fire to outpace their regeneration or, if you have it, install the Rad Remover Mod on a weapon to give it the power to negate this ability for a short time.

Fat Zombies: These zombies are... well... fat. They're very very tanky is all. They can take a lot of punishment before dying, but otherwise are no different from normal zombies.

Biker/Lumberjack Zombies: These zombies are both tanky and VERY strong. They were big burly bastards in life and that carries over into undeath. Not only can they take more damage, they can dish it out too!

Police Zombies: Fuck the police, especially so here. These guys are like the boomer and spitter from Left 4 Dead had a nightmare baby and it went into law enforcement. They can spew a blast of highly caustic acid at their enemies, but the nasty part is when they get low on health they'll try to charge you and explode! This explosion will do tremendous damage and can be instantly fatal at low levels! It may be wiser to run away if you're just starting out.

Spider Zombies: These zombies are easily spotted by their penchant for running on all fours, the exposed bones, the heavily mutated face, and their habit of making loud squeals and clicking sounds. They're faster than other zombies, but their main threat is they can JUMP! These things can leap over barricades with ease and get into your base!

Soldier Zombies: In life these zombies served the US Armed Forces, and in undeath they're one of the deadliest you can face. They're very VERY strong, a result of military training honing their bodies no doubt, and they wear military issue body armor! They take a lot to take down!

Screamer Zombies: These ones are different. They're always female and have heavily mutated mouths and necks, huge fangs too. They don't normally show up on their own, but are attracted to 'heat.' That is to say, the heat generated by cooking fires, forges, and torches and other light sources. They'll spawn near your base once you've caused enough heat and when they spot you... they scream. Loudly. Again, rule number one of zombie apocalypse: NO LOUD NOISES! Their screams summon OTHER zombies! Kill them fast or else you'll be facing a horde!

Lastly...

Zombified Animals: Its not just humans that rose from the dead! Animals became zombies as well and they're even more dangerous sometimes! There's three main varieties that I'll list below:

Zombie Dogs: I call them "Hellhounds" and they're easy to spot as you'll always hear them growling and barking before you see them. That being said, they're fast and VERY dangerous! Their teeth can shred armor and flesh with ease and they attack quick! If you have a gun, use it! Its best they go down before they can get close!

Zombified Birds: Carrion Birds in the most literal sense, they can still fly and they can come from above so they can reach you before you see them... but they're also very fragile. One good hit from a melee weapon or a clean shot from a gun sorts them out.

Zombified Bears: Fuck just run. The zombie bears are among the deadliest enemies in the game. Unless you're well geared and really confident its best to just get the hell away as fast as you can.

... but what about when you can't?

Step 10: The Zombies Got Me! ... now what?

Sometimes you just can't get away fast enough and the zombies will get you. They'll claw, they'll bite, they'll tear, and they'll do some damage! In this game there's several status effects that can do some severe harm to you, and I'll list the major ones here and how to remedy them.

Bleeding: You took a bad claw from a zombie's rotting fingernails and now you're gushing blood from the wound! You'll lose health every second and your screen will go grey as your body tries to process the pain. Any bandage will remove this status happily, so its easily remedied.

Lacerations: OH SHIT! That zombie got you DEEP! You're bleeding BAD! This status reduces your maximum health and makes it so if you get Bleeding it has an increased critical hit chance! This one isn't an easy fix though. You gotta stitch the wound shut! A sewing kit will do it, or a First Aid Kit (which has a sewing kit in it.)

Broken Arm: You took a really bad smack from a zombie and your arm is broken! Your attacks are slower and attacking with guns can actually hurt you now (that recoil is no joke!) You can use a splint or a cast to make it heal faster... but it won't heal it immediately, just faster. If you're not careful it'll re-break!

Broken Leg: Like above, but its the lower half! Perhaps a zombie got you in the leg, perhaps you took a tumble off what was once someone's rooftop, either way your leg shouldn't bend like that. Walking speed is slowed greatly and running or jumping can harm you... but a cast or splint will do the same for it as the broken arm.

Sprained Leg/Arm: They got you... but not as bad as it could be. It hurts, but you've had worse. This is the same as the Broken Arm/Leg but less severe and heals faster, however if you're not careful it can become a full on break! A sprain can't be healed by any tools you can make. All you can do is wait it out.

Concussion: BONK! You took a bad blow to the head and you're seeing stars! All your stats are lowered by one and you'll occasionally suffer bouts of dizziness where ALL speeds drop dramatically! This can be annoying in your base, but life-threatening in a fight! Painkillers will immediately remedy this however.

Dysentery: Look, I get it. Its the post-apocalypse, Wal-mart is closed forever, and you were starving... but that meat was so far past the sell by date it was starting to move. You ate something you shouldn't have and now you've got nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, the works. You become hungry and thirsty faster as your body tries to purge the foul thing you ate. Taking herbal antibiotics, drinking goldenrod tea, or drinking pure mineral water will help.

Fatigued: You're just worn right the fuck out. Good nutrition and rest are hard to find in the post-apocalypse and your body is worn down. All enemies do more damage to you because you just don't have the energy to mount a proper defense! If you manage to get some vitamins in you it'll sort it out though.

And then, the biggest one.

Infection: The Zombie Plague

You done got bit. The zombies got you and the sickness is inside your blood. Through some genetic quirk you're resistant to it, but thats all. Resistant. It won't turn you into one of them immediately, but its a nasty one regardless.

The infection is bacterial and comes in four stages. To remedy it you can use the following medicines:

Stage 1: Honey or any antibiotics. Honey is a natural antibiotic and at this stage the infection is relatively minor. Honey can be found in most kitchens, or by harvesting trees if you have the right perk.

Stage 2: Herbal or regular antibiotics. At this stage honey isn't good enough, you need medicines. Proper ones are best, but homemade will do in a pinch. You'll mostly find these in kitchens or bathrooms, or at ruined pharmacies.

Stage 3: Pharmacy Grade Antibiotics. Only the best will do at this point. If it gets any further you're doomed. These will likely be in either ruined pharmacies or abandoned hospitals.

As for the infection itself...

Stage 1: The infection is minor. You feel a bit gross but can cope otherwise. No major detrimental effects at this point. The infection will slowly get worse though, and attacks from zombies can speed it along! After an hour or if it progresses past 14% it advances to Stage 2.

Stage 2: The infection has gotten worse. You're starting to feel really sick and get tired easier. In game terms, your stamina regeneration is reduced. Lasts for three hours or until it reaches 57%, then progresses to Stage 3.

Stage 3: You're in serious danger and need medical aid immediately. The sickness has spread and is beginning to affect your brain. All stats are reduced and your stamina regeneration drops even more. You have three hours to find help, or until the infection reaches 100%. At this point the Infection reaches Stage 4.

Stage 4: Welcome to the Zombie Horde. You immediately drop dead on the spot and, presumably, will rise eventually as one of the undead.

Its important to note that treating the infection with medicines won't cure it IMMEDIATELY, it just makes the counter go the other direction. Instead of the percentage going up, it goes down. The duration is the same. Honey reduces it by 5%, Herbal Antibiotics by 10%, and Antibiotics by 25%. Once it hits that, it starts going up again, so be sure to have spare doses handy! Whats more, further attacks from zombies can re-infect you and make it start progressing once more!

But yes, thats the gist of 7 Days to Die. For a game thats been in alpha for years its surprisingly complex and a hell of a lot of fun, and I look forward to seeing what the devs pull off in the future.

[kingmacrophage]

I had a dream I was in a subway that was completely hostile to human life.

The train had very small, gorey wheels that let it sit near ground level. The trains WERE ground level at times. People had to traverse the tracks to get to certain stations. The trains would go up the stairs.

You'd hear a soft beep, and a light would shine above wherever you were. Seconds later the train would pass through, ruthlessly crushing anyone still in the path as it came by, and leaving nothing but a red stain on the floor.

There were times the trains would endlessly pass by, leaving you paralyzed in the corner as they filled the halls, blocking your path.

If a part of you was caught outside the door, it would be broken, and torn off by a wall. The train would almost immediately come to full speed, a very jolting experience. They would otherwise get you where you needed to go, with inhuman efficiency.

Despite being a place for transport, one could live their entire life in the subway. There were sometimes shops in the train cars, and there were many more in the subway, and most importantly in places the trains couldn't reach. There were hotels too, but many homeless people would live their lives deep in the tunnels, in the most hostile places. Many found places with gaps wide enough for people between the passing trains. They'd traverse the underground with a sort of tenacity that was hard to describe, living despite the place's insistence that you die.

Keep in mind there were many many people dying in this system, it was a regular occurrence for someone to disappear in the subway. But by far the most would be the homeless. Only the most daring could last more than a single evening down there.

As for why they didn't sleep in the train cars, there were also the cleaners. They would clean the trains of blood and debris in the few places they stopped. They would often throw vagabonds out of the cars, usually onto the tracks. The most cruel among them would have such a gentle, caring hand the poor bastard wouldn't even wake up to notice he was now in the path of a stampeding locomotive. They'd cheer as the body was swallowed whole by steel wheels.

It might be more accurate to call the subway a labyrinth, since there were so many levels to the tunnels, and the trains moved freely throughout them. All the same, the trains moved throughout the tunnels, never late or early even by a second. Like the parts of a well maintained clock they moved.

The subway mostly consisted of bright, yellow-green tiles that covered the walls. The floors were a dull yellow, with bright yellow markers showing where the tracks were. The tracks were not like regular tracks, and more like invulnerable grates. Easy enough to walk on, the train's wheels fell through them. Most of it was well lit, with exception for the tunnels, which pass by quickly inside of the trains. For the brave, the tunnels were rusty and full of concrete pillars. It was dry with exception of the occasional splatter found on or near tracks. Eventually the cleaners would get rid of the stains. Nobody has ever seen a cleaner outside of their suit, same color as the floor, with tools and armored bits made of the same material as the tracks. They had carts that could move along the tracks at good speed, but had no power to even push people in front of it.

[magnificenteaglemiracle]

Securing Your Spot: Pre-Sale Ticket Hacks

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Discover the World of Presales

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Begin your search with a presale code finder, a specialized search tool meant to filter through forthcoming events and discover critical access credentials. These programs use a comprehensive database to ensure that you never miss a presale chance by sending timely notifications directly to your inbox.

2. Current Presale Passwords and Wiseguys Presale Passwords.

'Todays Presale Passwords' is the best place to get daily updates on active presales. Every day, it distributes new codes adapted to a variety of live events. Meanwhile, 'Wiseguys Presale Passwords' focuses on hot-ticket events, providing you with a wide range of access passwords for highly anticipated concerts and shows.

3. Venue and artist presale passwords

Exclusive presale access is frequently given as a gift to patrons by venues and performers. These venue presale passwords are issued via newsletters or official social media outlets to local fans. artist presale password, on the other hand, are typically distributed to fanbase members as part of promotional activities or via email campaigns directed at die-hard fans.

4. Spotify Presale Password.

Spotify presale password provide a distinct advantage to music enthusiasts. Users are given presale passwords depending on their listening habits, rewarding them for their dedication to specific artists. To increase your chances, follow your favorite musicians on Spotify and enable notifications.

5. Fanclub Pre-Sale Codes

Joining an artist's fanclub may require a membership fee, but it comes with the benefit of unique presale codes. These fanclub presale codes are highly sought after since they allow early access to the greatest seats in the house.

6. TMPresale Passwords.

Another tool at your disposal is TMPresale, which consolidates a variety of presale possibilities in one location. Their broad collection draws from a variety of sources, giving extensive coverage and enhancing your chances of getting that golden ticket.

Strategies For Success

Combining information from these several sources can dramatically increase your chances of getting presale tickets. It is critical to have numerous presale passwords and be prepared when the presales go online. Remember to have quick internet access and payment details on hand to simplify the shopping process.

Securing tickets to popular events no longer has to seem like a lottery. With these techniques, you're not just hoping to receive a ticket; you're strategically positioning yourself near the front of the queue. Embrace these tools and tips with confidence, and get ready for extraordinary live encounters.

[deliveryflorist]

Why Does Every Leading Florist In Castle Hill Recommend Preserved Flowers To Customers?

Buying preserved flowers instead of regular ones comes with unique advantages. Here’s why top florists in Castle Hill recommend these flowers to shoppers.

When people shop for fresh flowers near me, they often buy dried flowers. These flowers are grown, cut, dried out, and put on sale. But if you want your flowers to last several years, you should buy preserved ones.

What are Preserved Flowers?

Every top florist in Castle Hill specialises in preserving flowers. They cut their flowers when they reach their optimal sizes. Then, they rehydrated them using biodegradable solutions. The flowers absorb the key to the point where all sap is replaced.

The sap and water-free flowers are perfectly poised to last for several years. Preserved flowers look 100% natural. Since these flowers undergo preservation, they look like new baby flowers for at least 12+ months. People can’t differentiate between preserved and baby flowers.

Why Buy Preserved Flowers?

Buying preserved flowers instead of fresh-cut flowers from a floral shop makes a lot of sense. Firstly, preserved flowers retain their elegance and vibrancy for several months. If buyers take the following steps, they can keep their preserved flowers fresh for even longer -

Keep the flowers away from water

Store the flowers in non-humid conditions

Place them away from heat sources (sunlight, radiators, and fireplaces)

Here are some other reasons why top florists in Castle Hill recommend preserved flowers to their customers –

No Need for Watering: Florists add Glycerin to their flower preservation solutions. This ingredient helps bond water molecules inside the organic tissues of the flowers. It essentially prevents evaporation. Hence, preserved flowers no longer need water!

Long-Lasting: Many people receive bouquets as gifts on special occasions. While the average aroma dies out within a week, preserved flower bouquets last decades. They make the gift-givers stand out by lasting up to 50 times longer than regular flowers. Let’s say you give preserved flowers to your friend for her birthday. There’s a high chance she’ll be staring at the same flowers on her next birthday!

Decorations: Many shoppers mistake buying fresh flowers near me for decoration purposes. When new baby flowers are used as outdoor decorations, they die quickly. On the other hand, preserved flowers last several months, even in challenging outdoor conditions. Their ridiculously long shelf lives make them the perfect decorative tools.

Eco-Friendly: We all celebrate multiple special occasions every year. Most of these celebrations feature flowers. While that’s excellent news for florists in Castle Hill, it’s not good news for the environment. Many resources (water, fertilisers, soil, etc.) are required to grow new flowers. Of course, using so many resources every day of the year takes a toll on local ecosystems. Buying preserved flowers that outlast ordinary flowers 60 times is an eco-friendly process.

You need to look for preserved flowers the next time you visit a floral shop!

[joekeeryfics92]

Chapter One: New Student

isabelle's outfit / your outfit

Over the campus of Thomas Oak, a large moon sits in the dark sky above the campus of Thomas Oak. While running through the forest, branches harshly scrape against the female as she runs through the treeline on the ground and in the woods. She is holding on to a guy as they sprint between the trees while she holds onto him to keep her limber. As the branches continue to scrape against her, the female's heart races with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. Her thoughts are consumed by the urgency of their escape, fueled by the determination to keep herself and the guy safe amidst the darkness and uncertainty of the woods.

She releases her hands from the male in a panic because of the sound of the bushes rustling and the snapping of twigs as she runs in a different direction from the male. A dark obscurity surrounds the female as she looks around her, but she is not able to see anything out there. There is a moment of silence before she hears him scream in pain and then there is nothing but silence. It was only after the guy's sound made her turn around and flee to where she could hide. This was when the young woman was able to escape and reach campus, and screamed out for help. Her foot catches on the rock, causing her to fall and hit her head when she doesn't pay attention to it. She lies on the ground, dazed and confused, unable to see anything but the moon's bright light. She struggles to get up, but the pain in her foot and head is too intense. She eventually manages to get up and limp away, leaving a path of blood behind. 

Her eyes are filled with fear as she looks up and stares up at a tall, masked figure that appears before her. As the male lifts a large tool, he wields an ax in his hand before wielding the severe tool. She pleaded and begged, tears welling up in her eyes as she struggled to rise from the ground. Several seconds later, he kicks her down with the hatchet, impaling her fragile body as she gasps for air as he impales her. She cries out in pain, pushing blood out of the open wound as he draws his ax and he gets near to her opening. After once again being impaled, the female's blood pools under her body, gurgling as it fills the corners of her mouth and trails down the corner of her lips as she battles to keep her mouth closed. As the female lays there, lifeless and motionless, her eyes open and still, she is dragged towards a group of bushes, where she is left just like that while the body of the male is scattered nearby. Before stalking off, the killer tilts his head to the side and turns towards the direction he came from. Neither the male nor the female are noticed as they lie there unnoticed. 

~+~

Taking a look at each other, you turned back to your brother, knowing there must be something wrong due to his stance or the way he paces back and forth when he talks. In a matter of a few seconds, his facial expressions go from being happy to being upset in a split second. On the bench that you are sitting on, Whitney takes a seat and grips the handles of the shopping bag tightly, worriedly holding onto the handle. Within minutes of him taking the call, he ends it and walks toward you and your wife before ending the call. 

“What’s wrong?” Whitney asked. 

During that time, you were silent. 

“That was Mom. She called saying Dad was in the hospital, and she requested we come down there since something was wrong. It’s horrific, like really bad.” 

You didn’t have time to grab the extra groceries your brother and Whitney needed, since the three of you needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible. On the way, you held your cell phone, scrolling through photos of you and your father as tears well up in your eyes. Even though you weren't certain if he was going to die, you were sure he was still alive... for now. 

"Are you okay?” 

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I– I’m fine.” You stammer. 

The three of them see your mom standing in front of the receptionist's desk as soon as they arrive at the hospital with your brother and his wife. She talks to one of the nurses, but it’s inaudible to you since there are overlapping conversations throughout the room you are in. Your mom spots you and your brother, rushing over and bringing you into her arms. Tears are shed before the heart monitor becomes crazy in your father’s room as the three of you look back. Your mom tells you both to stay in the hallway, but your brother enters as you grab his arm. He looks you in the eyes as you shake your head, wanting him to stay with you. 

After you regain consciousness, you stare upward at the ceiling of the hospital bed. You squint your eyes at the bright light above, trying to gain a better understanding of your surroundings. Her gaze is fixed on you as she sits in the chair, looking at you and rushing to your side to make sure you are okay. 

“Your father has passed away.” 

"Wh--?" No,” 

You are held in Whitney's arms. Her hoodie is drenched in your tears and sobs at half volume.

In the year following your dad's death, your mom decided to move to Chicago instead of Utah. The purpose of this was to give you a fresh start as you enrolled at Thomas Oak University, an incredibly difficult school to get into. However, you persevered and accepted the challenge. In contrast, your brother stayed in Utah after he and his wife had their first child and continued to work. 

It was time for you to turn the page on your life and begin a new chapter. 

~+~

Present day. 

Your mom drives off and heads toward the main road as you slouch in your seat, saying goodbye to your childhood home. After passing through a small neighborhood, you drive past various buildings, houses, and businesses. On the way, you see students carrying backpacks as they exit their off-campus apartments and houses. In the distance, you can see frat houses filled with males as they approach the campus. As you watch women wearing cheerleading uniforms and holding pom poms, you watch them practicing a routine. The scene looks like something from a movie you've seen at some point. But you focus on the excitement of starting school at a university you've been waiting for since your second year of high school. 

The moment you arrive, your mom pulls into the parking lot where other parents are helping their children settle in. Putting the car in park, she removes the key from the ignition. Tears fill her eyes as she gazes at you. 

It's okay, mom. I'm fine. Let's go.” 

“Okay,” 

You look at the campus as you step out of your mother's car and look at how large it is, before heading to the trunk to grab your suitcase and small box. You see your mom lifting up a box, closing the trunk of the vehicle before walking alongside you as she handles the box. Upon entering the hall, your grip loosens and the phone falls to the floor while you stand there helplessly. Despite your attempts to lean forward, a male approaches you and picks up your phone. He looks into your eyes, holding your gaze as he holds the device in his hand while you continue looking his way. You can't think at the moment.

Your heart rate suddenly increases. As you thank him, he hands you your phone, but your mother clears her throat before you can catch his name. He walks away as you glare at your mother irritated. Upon opening the door, you are surprised to discover that the dorm is empty. Stepping inside the room, the first thing you notice is that two beds are located on opposite ends of the room. The heavy box is set on one of the beds by your mom. 

Finally, you get the last two boxes in your dorm. You stand beside the bed satisfied. When you change your stance, you place your hands on your hips. As you watch your mother stare around and furrow her brows, you can see the frustration and worry in her eyes. When she begins to speak, you stare at her with your eyes wide open, trying not to feel irritated by what she is saying. 

“I’m wondering where your roommate is."

“She’ll be her. Don’t worry about it, OK? I won’t be alone. She's just late for whatever reason.” 

“I just... I don’t want you to mess up. You know how you get when you’re alone."

“Mom, please. This is positive for me. I'm finally starting over with my life after my dad died. Let me be happy for once.” 

Saying goodbye, she grabs your hand and slips a bottle of pills into your palm. A serious look crosses your face as you look down at her enclosed hands. 

“I’m leaving now. I love you. Have fun!” 

As soon as your mom leaves your dorm room, you sigh in relief when suddenly your phone rings, letting you know she is no longer there. You pull your phone out of your pocket and look at the contact. You see a picture of you and your brother on the screen as a smile forms on your face. You answer the call. On the other end, your brother speaks.

“Hey,” 

“Sorry, we couldn’t be there. Whitney and I were stuck taking the baby to the doctors and working. But since I’m on break, I wanted to call and check in to see how you are doing.”  

“I’m good. I got my stuff moved in and mom left finally. However, I don’t have a roommate.” 

“Huh. Still nothing?” 

“Nope.” 

An abrupt burst of sound is heard as a woman stumbles forward carrying multiple bags as the door bursts open. A startled look comes over your face. 

“Everything OK?” He asks, muffled.

“Yeah, my roommate arrived… with her luggage. I’ll call you back. Love you.” 

"I love you too." 

As you hang up the phone, you immediately rush over to the female and grab one of the bags from atop a box, revealing her face as you grasp the bag. 

“Hi, sorry.” She apologized. 

Dropping her belongings on the bed, she stands straight and grinned widely. 

“I’m Isabelle King. You are?” 

“Mia Fraser.” 

Your hand is extended to her as she takes it in her own. 

“Nice to meet you."

“You too,” 

Pulling out your bedding and pillow from one of the boxes on your bed, you remove the box to the ground. Your bed is quickly made, as you sit on top of it. Before leaving, you somewhat finish decorating your side of the room. Suddenly, your phone pings, reminding you of an interview. Running down the few steps before exiting the building, you bump into someone before looking up and recognizing the same man you saw earlier. You are startled by his presence.

Suddenly, you halted in your tracks, staring straight at him. While you felt as if time had stopped, you couldn't say too much to him - only a quick hello before moving on. It isn't long before you make it to the bus stop after quickly descending the small flight of stairs, where you wait until a bus arrives. In the meantime, you step on and glance back. Wondering what happened to the male, seeing he was gone. The encounter with the man leaves you with a sense of intrigue and curiosity. It sparks a feeling that there may be a deeper connection or story waiting to unfold, and you can't help but wonder what role he might play in your new chapter of life. You look in front of you and she pulls out a few coins, slipping them into the slot before taking a seat.

~+~

Isabelle’s point of view. 

On your way out of the building, as you make your way toward the stairwell to exit, someone runs into you. She grunts before making eye contact with you, peering under you with a serious expression plastered on her face as a harsh sigh escapes from her lips. In the depths of your chest, your heart began to pound. Your knees went weak, and butterflies were fluttering in your stomach. There are several features that attract your attention: long red hair, a round face, plump lips, soft brown eyes and a plump face. After a while, you realize you have been holding your breath for a long time. You exhale. 

“Are you okay?” You ask, awkwardly.

“Do I look OK?” She pressed.

“I do– I don’t know. You look alright.” 

In response, she huffs loudly.

You both glance down as you reach below to reach for the book that fell from the other female's hands. You pick it up as you do this. As you rise, you try to give the book back to the other female, but she snatches it from your hand and continues walking away. It is not long before she makes her way down the hallway, stepping down as the red-headed woman turns the corner. You stand there, immersed with confusion. You turn and walk away, trying to process what just happened. You take a deep breath and let out a sigh, a feeling of disappointment and confusion lingering in the air.

“Shit,” You curse under your breath.

~+~

Your point of view. 

Upon exiting the large vehicle, you look at your phone and the screenshot of the store you applied to previously. In spite of the fact that you don't know anything about what to expect at the interview, you continue. In the office, you step in as the manager greets you politely before escorting you into an office that is partially empty as you enter the building. The walls are adorned with pictures of dogs and cats, some of which are crooked, yet the floor looks immaculate. There is a growing sense of anxiety in your body as your nerves start to fray. You feel your stomach churn, your heart pounding, and your palms sweat as you sit there. Your manager offers a glass of water, but you decline. You take a deep breath and try to calm yourself, but the feeling of fear persists. You do your best to fake a smile and remain composed.

In the wake of the vigorous interview, you stand in front of her and are given a vest that has Paws & Feathers printed on one side. As for the other, it appears empty, with two small holes made by a previous employee's name tag. In spite of that, you did not seem to care about it. Upon receiving the name tag with your name on it, she handed it to you. You thought it was simple, pinning it to your vest before walking with her through the store. You followed her down the hallway, feeling nervous but also excited at the same time. You knew that this was the job for you and you were eager to start. You couldn’t wait to meet the other team members and get started. You stood at the front of the office, your stomach full of butterflies. The manager introduced you to the team and welcomed you to the team. You smiled and felt a sense of relief and excitement as you began your work.

~+~

Late that afternoon, you arrive at the campus and the building that contains your dorm. You soon enter, closing the door behind you and begin to undress when there’s a knock as you groan. You step towards the door and open it, seeing no one in the hall causing you to feel slightly off, peeking both sides of the corridor. You close the door as fear rises as there is another before the door opens, scarring you. Your roommate, Isabelle, apologizes as she enters the room holding a flier then shows you. You see it’s a party that’s being thrown nearby at a frat house as you agree to go, tossing the paper on the table before grabbing your wallet and dragging Isabelle out the dorm and towards the bus stop, groaning.

As you reach the campus that afternoon, you climb the stairs and walk through the entrance. You step into the dorm rooms in the adjacent hallway. After entering the room, you close the door behind you and start to undress when a knock comes as you groan in annoyance. As you walk towards the door and open it, you see no one in the hallway causing you to feel slightly apprehensive, so you peek both sides of the corridor, just to be sure there is nothing amiss. In a moment of fear, you close the door as you begin to fear the other person prior to opening the door, scarring you in this process. Isabelle, your roommate, opens the door and steps inside, apologizing to you for coming to the room at this time. She carries a flier, showing it to you after entering. It appears there is an event being held nearby at a frat house. Obviously, it is a party. The two of you agree to go, tossing the paper on the table before grabbing your wallet and pulling Isabelle out of the dorm, grimacing as you drag her to the bus stop.

“What are we doing?” 

“We're gonna buy outfits for the party.” 

When you and Isabelle arrive at the mall, it is pretty much chaos to begin with as you and Isabelle rummage through various outfits and styles attempting to find the best outfit to match your personality and look. During this time, the other female manages to find an outfit while you still struggle to find your own until you are able to locate one before checking out.

Once you have purchased your items, you immediately return to the dorm room and change into your new clothes. The first thing you do is your makeup, then Isabelle's, while spraying perfume on your body not long afterwards. Both of you stand in front of the full-length mirror, giving yourself one last look before stepping out of the dorm room and proceeding toward the staircase. Upon arriving at the frat house, you get out of your cars and make your way into the house as people stare at you, your face, and your body in the house and immediately knew that the other students knew you were new, but they focused on themselves and continue to party. You had high expectations for tonight, not bothered by anything else at the moment without realizing that Isabelle was nowhere to be seen.

Several seconds later, Isabelle returns holding two shot glasses full of clear liquid, offering you a drink as you nod. After taking the small glass from her hand, you downed the shot while groaning under your breath and squinting your eyes in the process. She giggles while wiping her mouth before leaving again. Standing there, you looked around the room in a daze, wondering when she will come back... but, as you suspected, she doesn't return.

As a result, you accepted it and walked into the kitchen, where you quickly grabbed another shot, downing it all in one go. You squint your eyes, sitting the cup down then grab a plastic red cup, filling it up with red punch, knowing there is alcohol in it. Then you take a sip of it and step outside of the frat house. While standing on the porch, you can see various bushes around the lake and look out at the water surrounding the nearby dock. In the midst of it all you were unable to make out a lot, but you focused on yourself and the drink in your hands instead. A tall muscular male suddenly stumbled out of the building, throwing himself in your path, blocking the way. Despite telling him you need to get by, he refuses to budge, causing you to get uncomfortable and not to mention the alcohol takes over your system causing you to feel even more uncomfortable.

"Where are you going?" He purrs.

"I-- I just need to meet my friend, and head home."

"I can take you to my room. It's better since it's dark, so you can rest there."

"No, thank you. I'm good."

When you freeze, you push his hand back, but he pulls you against him. The sweat starts to form on your brow, tears are beginning to well up in your eyes. The guy you met earlier turns around the corner, making eye contact with you as you glance at him with pleading eyes. The hazel-eyed man grabs the guy by his shirt collar, pulling him away from your frail body. The drunk male stares into your eyes, anger rising, clenching his hand into a fist when he sees the other male. After pushing him to the ground, he lands a punch. The drunk male stands up, but the other male stands between him and you, blocking his path. The intoxicated man begins leaves. However, he is hesitant.

Stepping back, you drop your cup as you watch the fight unfold as the beer-filled punch spills out onto the floor while you watch the fight unfold. In response, the male steps back and glares at the frat boy, telling him to get out of your way. The frat boy laughs and shoves the male, who then punches the frat boy in the face. The frat boy falls to the ground, bleeding and holding his face. The male steps back and turns to face you, leaving the frat boy lying on the floor.

"Fuck you both,"

"Yeah whatever, man."

He disappears from sight as the male looks at you, holding your gaze. Your breathing hitches, but you compose your tipsy self. You smile at him before introducing yourself. He introduces himself as Joe. You feel a tingle of excitement as he steps towards you. He offers his arm and you accept it, your heart racing as you stand there.

Stepping down the steps, you reach the dock. The leaves of large bushes are almost gone, shriveled in fact, as they sit untouched in the dim moonlight. When you step down, you lose your balance, but Joe grabs your waist and pulls you up with a strong grip. You gasp in shock, your heart racing and your head spinning. Joe's face is inches from your own, his deep brown eyes looking into yours. He smiles, the corners of his mouth form a small smile, and steps back.

After a while, you and Joe decide it's time to find a quieter place to calm down. The nausea, however, quickly starts to make you feel anxious. It doesn't take long for your mind to become hazy as the alcohol kicks in before you lie down on a furry beanbag beneath you.

"So, are you from Chicago?"

"No, Utah actually. My father died last year, and we made the move a few months ago."

"Okay," He says, scooting closer to you as you continue to lay your head against the wall behind you. "I moved here two years ago from Massachusetts, but I just started last year."

"Ah, a sophmore. I am too."

"Nice,"

Your attention is immediately drawn to Joe as you turn to make eye contact with him. As you begin to talk to him, a scream catches the two of you off guard. Both of you turn your heads to the side before scurrying to the window. You look out as your eyes widen when you see a lifeless body lies partially out of one of the large bushes. You and Joe look at each other then look back at the scene in front of you, rigid in your place as tears well up in your eyes as you both stare at it. Joe grabs your hand and pulls you back into the house, the two of you trembling in terror. You both collapse on the couch, your hearts pounding as you both try to process what had just happened.

[stampwithtami]

Best of Sale-a-bration 2024: Don't miss out on the Trusty Toolbox Designer Paper

TRUSTY TOOL BOX DESIGNER SERIES PAPER As we near the close of Stampin' Up! Sale-A-Bration 2024, excitement buzzes around the exclusive offerings set to disappear after February 29. This is your golden chance to seize those special edition products from the Sale-A-Bration catalog, which, let me remind you, will be gone forever! With the end of the month approaching, the risk of these treasures selling out looms large. But here's the silver lining: with qualifying orders, you can earn these products FREE! Among the bounty, the Designer Series Papers hold a special place in my crafty heart, and I'm particularly smitten with the Trusty Toolbox Designer Series Paper. It's not just paper; it's a gateway to crafting heaven, especially when paired with the Trusty Tools Stamp Bundle and Die Bundle. Imagine getting this paper for FREE when you purchase the Trusty Tool bundle—yes, it's possible with this promotion! I've been busy in my craft room, creating and experimenting with these tools, and I'm thrilled to share two of my creations: the special circle wreath of tools card and the Cascading Pleats Toolbox fun fold card. These cards have garnered admiration and love, becoming instant favorites among crafters. I've prepared tutorials and videos to guide you through making these unique cards, hoping to inspire your next crafting adventure. Trusty Toolbox Designer Series Paper: A Closer Look The Trusty Toolbox Designer Series Paper is a marvel for anyone looking to craft tool-themed cards and projects. Tailored for the builders, fixers, and DIY enthusiasts in your life, this 12" x 12" (30.5 x 30.5 cm) paper pack features an array of tool designs—hammers, saws, wrenches, drills, and more, ready to bring your creative ideas to life. One side of each sheet dazzles with these tool motifs, perfect for backgrounds on cards or scrapbook pages. But that's not all. The reverse side offers all-purpose patterns, versatile enough for any project you have in mind. From creating a standout card to assembling a unique paper toolbox filled with die-cut tool pieces, the possibilities are endless. Don't Let This Opportunity Slip Away! Sale-A-Bration 2024 is a fleeting chance to enrich your crafting collection with unique, high-quality supplies. The Trusty Toolbox Designer Series Paper, along with its coordinating stamp and die bundles, offers an unmatched opportunity to create memorable, personalized projects. Remember, these special edition products will not be around after February 29, and the chance to earn them free with qualifying orders is too good to miss. Dive into the Sale-A-Bration catalog, make your selections, and start crafting with the Trusty Toolbox Designer Series Paper today. Who knows what masterpieces you'll create? Stay tuned for more crafting tutorials and inspiration, and remember to place your orders before these exclusive offerings are gone for good. Happy crafting! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nn7njoC9SPI SALEABRATION DETAILS & PRODUCTS Saleabration ends February 29, 2024 Welcome to the most exciting time of the year for all crafting enthusiasts – Stampin’ Up Saleabration! This annual celebration is a crafting extravaganza, bringing you unparalleled perks, delightful surprises, and a whole lot of creative fun. Whether you’re a customer, a demonstrator, or just someone looking to add a touch of creativity to your life, Saleabration has something special for everyone. VIEW SALEABRATION CATALOG ONLINE SHOP ONLINE Ways to Saleabrate: - Earn Free Products with Every Order: Dive into a world of creativity by earning free Saleabration products with every $50 purchase in my online store. The more you shop, the more exclusive items you can add to your crafting stash. It’s the perfect opportunity to try new products and expand your creative horizons.View the Saleabration Catalog - Unlock the Saleabration Demonstrator Kit: Join the Stampin’ Up family and become a demonstrator during Saleabration to enjoy an extraordinary offer. Receive a Free Glass Mat and choose between $25 or $55 worth of additional free products when you purchase the Saleabration special Demonstrator Kit. It’s the ideal way to start your crafting journey or enhance your existing collection.Click for more details - Maximize Savings with Paper Pumpkin: Elevate your Paper Pumpkin experience by combining Pre-Paid Paper Pumpkin subscriptions with Saleabration. This winning combination ensures you not only receive your monthly crafting kit but also enjoy additional freebies, making every project an extra special delight.Click for more details - Earn Extra Stampin’ Rewards: For those who love to indulge in a crafting spree, here’s an exclusive offer. Receive an additional $30 in Stampin’ Rewards on orders exceeding $300. This is on top of the regular Stampin’ Rewards that kick in with orders totaling $150. It’s the perfect incentive to treat yourself or gather friends for a crafting party and share the rewards. PAPER PUMPKIN MEETS SALEABRATION If you’ve been thinking about subscribing to Paper Pumpkin, now’s the perfect time to jump on board. From now through February 29, you earn FREE Sale-A-Bration item(s) when you purchase a 3-, 6-, and 12-month subscription. This is a limited-time offer, so don’t wait. The sooner you purchase your prepaid subscription, the sooner you can start playing with your FREE Sale-A-Bration goodie(s). LEARN MORE ABOUT PAPER PUMPKIN KITS SALEABRATION PRODUCTS FREE WITH $50 ORDER FREE WITH $100 ORDER SALEBRATION DEMO KIT - THE BEST DEALS! WANT IT ALL NOW? Are you an avid crafter with a wishlist brimming with over $99 worth of new catalog products? If so, brace yourself for an incredible opportunity that could turn your crafting dreams into reality while saving you some serious cash. We’re talking about the Demonstrator Kit Special – the best deal in town during Saleabration. If you have a wishlist filled with over $99 worth of new catalog products, the Demonstrator Kit Special is the golden ticket to making your crafting dreams a reality. With the choice of:  - Free Glass Mat and $125 worth of products for just $99 or - Choose $155 worth of products for just $99! plus additional perks. It’s a crafting enthusiast’s dream come true, and here’s why the Demonstrator Kit is the ultimate deal. The Best Deal in Town:Imagine getting $125-$155 worth of high-quality crafting supplies for only $99. Sounds enticing, doesn’t it? But it gets even better. By opting for the Demonstrator Kit, you not only enjoy a significant discount but also receive free shipping, future discounts, and exclusive perks. Joining for the Discount:One of the most common questions we get is, “Can I join as a demonstrator just for the discount?” The answer is a resounding yes! In fact, it’s the most popular reason why people decide to become demonstrators. No pressure to sell, host classes, or throw parties – unless, of course, you want to have some fun doing these things. Benefits Beyond the Kit:Becoming a demonstrator isn’t just about the incredible deal on the kit. It opens the door to a community of like-minded crafters and provides ongoing opportunities for discounts and perks. Whether you’re a seasoned crafter or just starting your creative journey, being a demonstrator offers a wealth of benefits. Join for the discount, stay for the community, and let your creativity soar with the Demonstrator Kit Special during Saleabration. Don’t miss out on this unbeatable offer! PURCHASE THE DEMO KIT TRUSTY TOOLBOX CARD TUTORIALS INSTRUCTIONS PDF ⬇ The instructions include measurements and step by step directions to create this card. There is also a clickable supply list.  DOWNLOAD TUTORIAL DOWNLOAD TUTORIAL HELPFUL VIDEOS ⬇ CIRCLE WREATH CARD VIDEO On the video I'll share how to make the circle wreath card fold. CIRCLE WREATH VIDEO CLASS CASCADING PLEATS CARDS ⬇ On the video I'll share how to make the Cascading Pleats Fold. CASCADING PLEATS CLASS CIRCLE WREATH & CASCADING PLEATS SERIES CIRCLE WREATH & CASCADING PLEATS CARD SERIES Click the thumbnails below for more free tutorials in these card series. STAMPIN' UP! CATALOGS CURRENT SPECIALS PHOTOS I used the Stampin' Up Trusty Toolbox Designer Series Paper for these cards. I cut the tools from the Trusty Toolbox Designer Series Paper. The word DAD was stamped in Lost Lagoon. It's part of the Trusty Tools stamp set. I cut the letters out and layered them on a label from the Everyday Details Dies. I embossed the front circle mat with the Metal Plate 3D Embossing Folder. Who says wreaths how to be feminine and floral? I was thinking of Father's Day when I designed the card but it really can be sued for many occasions. Some views of the card from different angles. I made a tool box out of the designer paper. I have instructions for the Cascading Pleats Card above. Want to save these ideas for later? Pin them to your favorite Pinterest board. Have you tried these designs? I love to see your creations! Be sure to share them on #shareyourcrafts post every Saturday on my Facebook Page    Read the full article

[caffeineandsociety]

The problem is way too many people either think - or know better, but want you to think - that the Venn diagram of shitty policy is like this-

When in fact it's like this-

Full overlap. It's not "American deaths OR non-American deaths, pick one", it's "so, you're watching and sharing control of a bus that's hurtling over a cliff, you have 5 minutes to choose - will it be better to crash it into a busy campground? Or through a hospital that will collapse ONTO the campground, a busy shopping center, a load-bearing pillar holding up a huge chunk of the densely populated city you live in, then finally an oil refinery, which will explode and run off into the water supply and pollute the planet for decades to come? There are allegedly third options, but none of them are actually viable if you're being even remotely honest with yourself, and there are a LOT of people who really want to do the latter for some reason already tugging on the wheel."

This is what we mean when we say that voting is damage control. It is not the be-all and end-all. It is to societal improvement as breathing is to staying alive - FAR from all you need, but one of the fastest ways to fuck yourself if you stop doing it, or worse, lose the power to do so. Which is a risk this cycle! Voter disenfranchisement is a big deal battleground tool of the far right! I'm always hearing cynical takes about how "if voting worked they'd make it illegal", but the counterpoint to that - if voting DIDN'T work, they wouldn't be trying to do exactly that; why else would 2023 have seen a near record number of voter restrictions proposed and enacted? Hell, why would January 6 have happened?

I want everyone who SERIOUSLY thinks "oh, we SHOULDN'T vote because BOTH parties are bad, and anyone who says otherwise doesn't care how many people die as long as they get theirs" to ask themself, as seriously as possible - how likely do you think it is that we'll have a functioning alternative system in, at the time of this writing, 9 months? What are you doing to achieve that goal? What will you do if Trump gets reelected and ramps up police activity to make even your keyboard activism enforceably illegal? Your entire existence? Because that's a big part of what they're trying to do! Do you realize that the system doesn't void the results if turnout is too low? That a significant contingent of right-wingers religiously - literally - vote for ANYONE running with an R on the ticket? Do you think abstaining - and thereby allowing that contingent to go uncontested - will save a SINGLE non-American life?

It won't.

Voting against that won't save the world, no, just like breathing won't save you if you decide to never eat or drink or move from your bed again, but if you DON'T do it, then be honest with yourself - you're fucked no matter what else you do or don't do.

Voting is to buy time so we CAN dismantle the system and rebuild it better, because one side wants to kill us all preemptively to fortify it.

[gertlushgaming]

Below the Stone Preview (Steam Early Access)

For this Below the Stone Preview, we play a procedurally generated spelunking roguelike(lite) with completely destructible grid-based levels resembling that of many loved titles such as Terraria, Enter The Gungeon, Nuclear Throne, and Dwarf Fortress.

Below the Stone Preview Pros:

- Decent graphics. - 281.46MB download size. - Graphics settings - ui scale slider, auto ui scale button, v-sync, fps limit, and full screen. - Full controller support. - Controller settings - Invert hotbar scrolling. - 3 save slots. - Character creator - random, name, hair, beard, body, and hair color. - Twin stick style controls for weapons amd tools. You get a clear line to show where you are facing. - Top-down view. - Opening tutorial section. - Certain tools can break certain blocks. - Hot bar for quick access. - Choose up to 3 missions to do when in the caves. - Nice soundtrack. - Simple controls. - Very accessible and easy to get into. - The main hub above ground houses shops, blacksmiths, Missions, notes, etc. - Craft new items, Weapons, and armor at the Blacksmith. - The caves have many Breakable objects and blocks to mine that drop resources for crafting. - A Witch in the Hub lets you craft potions of many kinds. - Randomized caves every time. - Mini map. - Complete at least one mission in order to leave the cave. - The map fills in as you play. - Missions are shown on screen at all times and fill in as you complete them. - You have a small circle of light around you and a torch does a huge circle of light. - When mining it's dark so you never really know where you are going. - Blocks will highlight when you are near them and will be blue if you can mine them or red if you cannot. - A brilliant game for people who love to just mine or cave dive. - An excellent sense of adventure. - Cave-ins can happen. - Find rooms and secrets. - Play how you want. - As soon as you finish a mission you can call the escape pod which makes a load of enemies attack as you await the pod's arrival. - If you die you drop everything in you and lose progress of missions. - High difficulty mostly due to the nature of learning the combat. Below the Stone Preview Cons: - No Steam achievements yet. - Only a male character. - Limited graphics settings. - Cannot rebind controls. - No voice work. - The menu system is so clunky and swapping items between your hotbar and backpack is so slow and sluggish. - The hub is so big and it's just not needed. - Way too many puns and yes I'm a killjoy. - Combat is tough with poison enemies being a particular nightmare. - Takes a while to get going. - High difficulty. - Having to eat mushrooms for health one by one is a real drag. - No dodge or roll button makes the game a lot harder and less fun in a way. - Cannot save mid-dungeon. - The mission amd cave randomness can make for lengthy dungeon dives. - No online play. Related Post: Stray Souls Review (PlayStation 5) Below the Stone: Official website. Developer: strollart Publisher: Apogee Entertainment Store Links - Steam Early Access Read the full article

[carryforthtradition]

Hedge Laying, 5th May, 2020

Hedge laying trip

It was the Great Hedge Laying Trip last Thursday. I’d taken myself and husband Neil, cameraman, up to Richmond overnight. We had no idea where we were as we’d just followed Stephen in our car to somewhere near Bedale in North Yorkshire the next morning. Me and Stephen have known each other since we were born, our mums are childhood friends. We arrived on the edge of a farm where the hedge that they’d laid already stretched off into the distance and fighter jets were flying around from RAF Leaming, so it was quite noisy. I did have a go at this years ago but I couldn’t remember what to do, but was eager to have another go. He had told me this hedgerow was planted about 10 years ago with hedge laying in mind (the farmer he works for is a top man! I hope to meet him one day, he sounds very conscientious and a forward planner regarding conservation, I’d love to interview him and see what I can learn) so now is the time to actually lay the hedge…and all the trees are mainly Hawthorn, Blackthorn a bit of Gelder Rose, a bit of Dog Rose, Holly and Field Maple.

Stephen’s background is a degree in countryside management and conservation work. He works for conservation charities and is now self-employed doing hedge laying in the winter and working for a nature reserve. This job came about from the landowner in Well who knew he did hedge laying and needed hedge laying all over his land.

“Loads of it.” As Stephen put it “He’s passionate about his hedgerows.”

“Let’s talk about tools. What have we got?” I asked.

“There’s two types of billhooks here, there’s loads available, regional styles. This is a Yorkshire billhook, which is probably the biggest, well it is the biggest one.  And that’s a Stafford Pattern. And they’re principally the tools. A pair of loppers, it makes it easier. Obviously chain saw for the bigger stuff.”

He’d bought his billhooks from the Vintage Tool Shop.  The idea with a billhook is that you just cut so far through the tree, enough that it’s pliable enough to bend over without snapping, but not too much that you lose the tree.  (What is a billhook?)

Photo of me using a billhook. Notice the cut, in this case, is on the right of the trunk as it will be laid down to my left. Enough of the trunk is left attached so it doesn’t snap, which needs really careful attention, otherwise the trunk is completely cut through rendering it unable to be incorporated into the hedge. The tree may not die, depending on the species, but would take years to grow to a suitable height for the hedge.

He went on to explain that billhooks are used for the laying. In years gone by, people would have used axes but nowadays they use a chainsaw to speed things up because people have to make a living out of it. Centuries ago, all the agricultural labourers would have worked together on it. Most hedges were planted, and dry stone walls, in the 1600’s mainly, because that was the main ‘Inclosure Act’ of 1773 was passed in this country, where all the land was divided up and farming methods changed. It is still in act today. “Do they have original hedgerows still growing around? Have you ever come across any really ancient ones?” I asked.

And I was really pleased as he said “Yes, I’ve laid one up in Well which was, well they don’t know exactly how old it is but it’s generations and generations, so it’s hundreds of years old.”  And that “it’s been laid before obviously, and by laying a hedge, you’re promoting the length of its life because of the regrowth.”

Interested to know about what management has to be done once a hedge has been laid, as I assumed it would be just like trimming off the tops and the sides he said

“You can let it grow back up and re-lay it, or if, because it’s quite expensive to lay them, you generally let them grow up, keep trimming them and they  just get denser and denser until eventually there will come a point where you will need to let it grow up and re-lay it again. The whole point of laying it is that if you don’t lay them, this is a newly planted hedge about 10, 12 years ago, if you don’t lay them and just keep trimming them, they just get gappy at the bottom. And the whole idea is that it’s stockproof. And if it’s all gappy at the bottom livestock can get underneath it.”

So what livestock, sheep, or just any?

“Sheep, cows. You’ve got various regional styles of hedge laying depending on what stock you have. This is laid in a Yorkshire style, but it’s actually staked in a Lancashire style (laughing) the purists wouldn’t like it, but originally the Yorkshire style would have had stakes down the middle with a top rail fastened on because it’s laid so low, it’s laid much lower than other hedges. Most people think of the Midland Bullock Hedge which is more at 45 degree angle and it’s got the woven hazel on the top as binders, whereas the Yorkshire one just had a rail on. Each region developed different styles depending on what they had. In Yorkshire it was uplands, so there was coppices, no abundance of hazel and stuff to coppice, to weave for binding, so they used to put a rail on, just so it was stock proof for the first season.”

He said it’s just nailed on top of the posts and it doesn’t look very pretty, but it’s not necessary on his hedges, so there’s no point doing it. If you were in a competition you would have to do it because that’s the style but his hedge doesn’t need it because it’s fenced in and next to an arable field, so it doesn’t need to be stock proofed.

Once this hedge has been laid, it will just keep growing forever as long as somebody manages it. They’ll let it grow up to the height they want and then they’ll keep trimming it and it will just get denser and denser and then eventually, probably in 20 years maybe, maybe longer, they’ll let it grow up a bit more and then they’ll re-lay it again.

The thorns of the blackthorn are lethal, I’ve had them in me a few times. They’ve got some bacteria that lives on it’s tips, so when you get the blackthorn in you, it hurts, it swells, and some people get infection from it. So gloves! Always wear your gloves!

Then it was time for me watch Stephen demonstrate how to do it and then for me to have a go. For my first attempt, I was chipping away, using far too many cuts to lay one, which amused the onlookers and Stephen said try not to put my billhook in the soil which made us all laugh! Then I got stuck on the fence so Stephen had to free me.  For my next attempt I made 1 cut to the next tree which was sufficient enough to lay it, getting my street cred back!

Everyone joined in laying some hedge and Stephen was preparing the trees for laying with the chain saw, to which my husband said ‘There’s no stopping him now, he’s off, it’s what he was like driving this morning when we were to keep up!

Bob, who has worked with Stephen for years had joined us at this point. He said “It’s fantastic how it comes again, isn’t it?”

Hedges are laid uphill so the sap can rise. If you lay a tree downhill you’ve got to bend the trunk more so there’s more danger of snapping it. Essentially, it’s like coppicing as the regrowth comes from the base of each stem or the tree trunk, (some regions call hedge laying ‘Pleaching’) and you get regrowth along the stems as well. These are all living because you’ve preserved enough sapwood and bark so they will regrow, but eventually the trunk you have laid will die, but by the time they’ve died, you’ve got all the regrowth from the base.

 My gloves were too big, and kept falling off. I spent time pushing down the branches to keep the laid hedge low and yes, I got black-thorned straight through my glove, straight into my knuckle, but I laughed it off as it is all part of the process!

All in all, we had a fantastic day which I will always remember, thank you Stephen! Photo - ‘I’ve been black-thorned! It really hurts!’

[bandsawsservice]

Band Saws in Slovakia

A band saw is a type of metal cutting machine that has a rotating blade with teeth on one edge. This tool is used primarily to cut curves in stock, but it can also be used to make custom cuts for production work. It is typically operated by hand, although some models allow for automated feeds. There are many different types of band saws available, including gravity-feed, semi-automatic, and automatic cutters. Some types are more suitable for industrial applications, while others are designed for home use. Check their site to know more details pásové píly.

In the world of woodworking, a band saw is one of the most versatile and powerful tools a woodworker can have. Whether you are looking to make precise curves or angled cuts, a quality band saw can help you get the job done with little effort. However, if you’re new to using this tool, there are many factors to consider before making your purchase. First, determine what you will be cutting on your saw to better choose the right model for your needs.

The type of wood you’ll be cutting will also influence your choice of a band saw, as some have a larger throat capacity than others to accommodate a wider range of blade widths. The type of work you’ll be doing will also play a role in how much power you’ll need from your band saw, as some have a more powerful motor that can handle bigger loads.

You’ll also need to take into account the price and features of the saw you’re considering. Some models have extras such as a LED work light or adjustable front handle to reduce fatigue during long woodcutting sessions, while others have dust ports and miter gauges to streamline your work. Lastly, you’ll want to consider the construction of your band saw, with some models being made from aluminum die-cast and others from cast iron.

The Cosen brand is one of the world's leading manufacturers of metal cutting machinery, offering more than 140 models of vertical, horizontal, miter-cutting, NC & CNC automatic and customized band saws. The company is based in the Czech Republic and employs more than 150 people. Its machines are used around the globe, with customers ranging from small metal shops to multinational corporations. Cosen offers a wide range of saws for different industries, with capacities from 200 to 3200 mm. The company's products are known for their high efficiency, accuracy, and reliability.

MILWAUKEE is a global leader in cordless power tools, and the band saw category is no exception. The M18 FUEL(tm) Deep Cut and Compact Dual-Trigger Band Saws provide the fastest cutting speed, largest capacity, and highest durability in their class. Both saws feature MILWAUKEE's innovative battery technology and the new Industry 4.0 Sawing Performance & Health Prognosis app.

Slovakia is a small central European nation that shook off decades of Soviet domination in 1993. The country has largely supported Ukraine since Russia invaded the neighboring country more than 18 months ago, with Slovakia the second NATO member to agree to give its fleet of Soviet-era MiG fighter jets to Kyiv. But the support has eroded public trust in liberal democracy and Western organizations.

The country's early parliamentary elections on Sept. 30 are expected to yield a victory for populist former Prime Minister Robert Fico, who has campaigned on a hardline anti-Russia message. Fico will have the opportunity to reverse Slovakia's military and political support for Ukraine if he returns to power. Michalovce is located near the border with Ukraine and serves as a key checkpoint for both migrants and freight. It has been a point of friction between Ukraine and the EU, with Ukrainian grain undercutting local markets.