Half of UK families now have just one child. But when Sabine Durrant was growing up, only children like her were seen as weird. She recalls a feeling of missing out on excitement, and considers ... I get why you’ve withdrawn from the child and likely his mother. You are reeling not only from a breakup with your ex but also from an ongoing deception, which makes you question the whole ... "I just found out why I’m an only child." | Creepypasta Please drop a like and comment if you enjoy! Submit stories to: https://www.reddit.com/r/SlumberReads... I’m 16 years old i found out two days ago that i was an indigo i didn’t understand at first so i began reaching, the more information i found the more confused i got i started to ask my mom questions about when i was little, i always knew i was different i conceited with animal more then i did people same with a spirit i knew when i was ... I’m the [email protected]**~* he can’t provide that for me. Also, I’m too needy in his estimation, so he shouldn’t have to try and meet those needs. OK, I’m done. But we have kids and just found out he has an aggressive form of prostate cancer. I’m locked in. I just found out why I’m an only child. You know how it goes. They tell you you’re the perfect child. You were so perfect that they didn’t want to have any more. You’re smart, caring, sociable. Any goal they set for you is reached. Any goal you set for yourself is too high, but you reach it anyways. Do you wonder if you should be concerned about a child's behavior? Are you worried that a child is being abused? Are you concerned about a child or teen's behavior towards another child or teen? Identify the warning signs of sexual abuse. Find out about healthy sexual development. Learn what can be done when a child abuses another child. Get help to talk to other parents about I'm 23, only child and I just found out, I'm not my parents' real kid. (self.offmychest) submitted 10 months ago * by Dvdert6. Hi! I have a story I wanted to share. It happened just hours ago. I have a huge extended family, cuz my mom and dad have many siblings. I grew up to this lavish (for me it is lavish but we are not rich) lifestyle. I'm on the phone with Owen Williams (not his real name), who just found out yesterday that the tired child I hear crying in the background, the child he's been rocking to sleep every night, the ... Having a child made me realize i’m an introvert and I love having one on one relationship with my child, it’s fun and relaxed. Also after years of not having a job I enjoy or not having one at all, over the last two years developed my business and it literally just over couple of weeks ago started getting of the ground.
2020.09.25 19:48 dogeman87 Hidden web camera price
You know how it goes. They tell you you’re the perfect child. You were so perfect that they didn’t want to have any more. You’re smart, caring, sociable. Any goal they set for you is reached. Any goal you set for yourself is too high, but you reach it anyways.
I imagine that is how most only children feel at some point. My parents are wonderful people, and I think most of what they say about me is true, even if they tend to sugarcoat it. Now that I’m in college, I do some more questionable things that they might not approve of, but who doesn’t?
In truth, I’m not as perfect as they make me out to be. I’m an above-average student, but I’m not pre-med or engineering. I’m majoring in economics. I do well, I get solid A’s and a few B’s, and I’m active in a couple clubs. I still have no idea what I want to do in life, though.
I’ve only dated one girl, all the way back in sophomore year of high school. The relationship fell apart at the beginning of senior year. We split amicably, I think. Since then, I just haven’t found anyone. You know how it is, scrolling through Tinder and finding so many prospects but then realizing that all of them are either assholes or comically awkward.
Does it bother me? No. None of it does. I couldn’t care less if I’m dating or doing well in school. As long as I’m maintaining my GPA and having fun, classes don’t bother me. I go to parties, I hang out with friends, I smoke a bit of weed every now and then. I’m living the college life.
Well, I was. Then I had this conversation with my dad my freshman year. I’m a senior now. It seemed harmless enough. He asked how my week went, and I told him fine. I asked how he and mom were doing, and he said fine. He asked me what my grades were. Normal, I told him. A’s and B’s. He was satisfied.
Before he hung up, he admitted something to me. “Grant,” he said. “Have you noticed anything strange lately?”
I was dumbfounded. “No, Dad. What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.”
He left it at that, and I could only speculate what he had meant. He wouldn’t elaborate. He only told me to have a great rest of my day.
The next evening, he washed up dead on the riverbank.
After two weeks, the police gave up. They said the cause of death was drowning. The autopsy matched up, I guess. They don’t know who did it. The fact that there was foul play is obvious, because my dad was stripped of his wedding ring and clothes and he lived far away from the river.
I had to fly halfway across the country for the funeral. I ended up taking incompletes for my classes that semester. The day would not move fast enough. The services took forever. I don’t remember much, only shaking a lot of people’s hands and watching my mother fall apart. That was the hardest part, I think, watching her sob uncontrollably. Nothing is more disturbing than watching a loved one break down like that. It hits hard, harder than a punch or a knife to the gut. It twists your stomach until you can’t eat anymore, can’t sleep, or maybe you sleep for fifteen hours and still feel exhausted.
I don’t like to dwell on the funeral, so I won’t. I’ll let your imagination fill in the blanks. You can picture what it was like.
I returned to school the next semester. Everyone was sympathetic, but at the same time they gave me space. They knew I didn’t want to talk about it. What college student would? How weird would that have been, breaking down at a party or in the middle of class and talking about my dead dad? Normal, yes, but also embarrassing as hell.
Nevertheless, I found myself talking about it with some girl. I was drunk, way too drunk for my own good. One thing they don’t tell you at parties is how to pace yourself. College kids don’t have much tolerance for alcohol. A couple beers is all it takes to get wasted, for some of us.
I was a little different. I’m tall, over six feet, so I could take more than most. Still, I had only been to a handful of parties at that point. It only took a couple hours to lose self-control.
The girl was pretty. I remember that, though I don’t remember what she actually looked like. She consoled me for a while. I don’t remember why I was talking about my dad, either. I’m sure she had heard the story already. Word got around campus fast. She still listened.
I’m not sure how it escalated, but one thing led to another, and the next thing I remember she was sucking my dick in a closet. Sounds bad, I know, and it was. Not as bad as some of the other things, though. Someone had brought coke- thank God I didn’t go for that- and as we’d made our way to the back of the house, I saw a couple having sex on the couch. In the middle of the room. People were just walking around them like it was nothing.
At least I wore a condom?
Whatever. College is crazy. Case closed. Right?
I wish it were that simple. Thing is, after we had sex the girl, understandably, left me by myself. Probably went to blow some other guy. I went back into the main room, and that’s when things started to go to shit.
They were still doing coke. One of the guys offered some. When I declined, he pressed a straw into my hand instead. I told him he could go shove it. For some reason, the guy didn’t react. He just turned back to the table.
I knew I had to get out of there. Getting caught with alcohol is one thing. But coke? I could go to prison for that. I started extracting myself from the room when I heard it.
There was someone in the bathroom at the top of the stairs. They were whimpering. My first guess was sex, because I’d seen so much of it already that night. But there was only one voice, and the whimpers sounded like pain. Then there was a thud.
I knocked on the door. No response. I rattled the doorknob, and of course it was locked. Then I kicked the door in. The guy that I’d heard was on the floor. There was a little blood, but most startling was the pool of vomit and the guy’s facial expression. He looked dead. I checked his pulse, determined that he was indeed alive, then rolled him onto his side and pulled out my phone to call an ambulance.
That’s when I saw the shadow. It was so faint. I’m not sure how I noticed, really, except for the fact that it shifted. I looked at the shower curtain. Fear settled in my stomach then. I realized that I was in a room on the second floor, far from the rest of the party, with no one but the passed-out guy within calling distance.
The shadow was just from a headlight outside. I began to breath again. Then I felt the hand on my shoulder.
I tried to scream. Another hand slowly closed around my mouth. It was cold and leathery, and wet. I tasted what was probably blood, and I suspected it was from the hand. I began to hyperventilate, which, as you might have guessed, was a really bad idea when my airway was being blocked. I pretty much was asking to lose consciousness.
The hand that had grabbed my shoulder moved down my back. I felt what I can only describe as a tonguelike protrusion running over my neck. I trembled. I figured I was about to die. I would be lying on the floor like this guy, killed by a monster, and no one would find us until next morning at the earliest, and undoubtedly they would think I died the same way as him.
Amazingly, my first thought was of my mom. She couldn’t deal with another death in the family. She would lose it, as anyone would. That, more than the immediate threat that had presented itself, chilled me.
That’s when I ripped the hand from my mouth and screamed. The hand fell on the floor, disintegrated into dust, and I screamed some more.
Whatever had been behind me was gone. I knew it the second it left, because the room suddenly warmed up. I had not realized it had been so cold. Probably I had been too caught up in the moment. The temperature now was like a sauna in comparison.
I looked around frantically. I examined the walls, the ceiling, brushed back the shower curtain, peered carefully behind the toilet. There was nothing. I sat there on the floor for a while, waiting for the shadow and the monster to return. My skin crawled, thinking of that leathery hand on my mouth, the tongue leaving saliva on my neck.
If I had been doing coke, I could have chalked it up to a hallucination. But I’d been clean. I’d had a few beers, but at that moment I was pretty lucid. I was certainly more lucid than the guy on the floor.
I had forgotten about him, actually. I looked at my phone, which had fallen on the floor during my encounter with the shadow, and I picked it up. I dialed 911, told them what had happened, then left. The next morning half a dozen people were looking at drug charges in addition to underage drinking.
The guy that I found? He recovered. I think after that he didn’t go to any more parties. I don’t blame him. His blood alcohol content was .35, if I remember correctly. He should have been dead.
I didn’t go to many other parties, but for a different reason. My name had not been used in the paper, so my mom didn’t know. There was no pressure from her or anyone else, least of all the police, who chastised me but were happy that I did the right thing. No, it was the shadow that stopped me. I didn’t want to be in a place where everyone was drunk or coked out again, because if I was that shadow could return and probably kill me. I’m certain that it left because it thought others would find it. It was waiting for a time when I was alone.
Much better to stay home, in the safety of the dorms, with my two other roommates and the dozen others that were within earshot and sober. Much better to forget what had happened, chalk it up to stress or a laced drink, and go on with my life as I had before.
Thing is, it’s never that simple. I wasn’t able to forget about the monster, because that wasn’t the last time I saw it.
My roommates were out, and I was by myself. That was the first mistake. Jason had gone to a D&D game. Richard had been invited to a party by one of the football players, somehow. He’s not athletic, not particularly impressive in any way, but he’s chill as hell. Everyone is his friend, which is probably how he got invited.
I wasn’t doing much. I was not alone, either. There were people on either side of my room, behind the walls, guys who were probably jerking off or playing video games. Me? I was reading a book. I know, not exactly what you would expect from someone my age. But I like reading. I especially like Stephen King (which may have been the wrong thing to read at that moment), and that’s what I was reading when I heard the noise.
I didn’t react to it. I figured someone was outside. We lived in suites, where four or five rooms shared a semi-private bathroom. It was a hell of a lot better than the bathrooms in other dorms, which were set up for entire floors. Here you could have some privacy.
The bathroom door closed. There was a loud grunt, then a plop. I sighed. It was probably Randolph. He takes the largest shits of anyone I have ever known. He can sit there for twenty minutes and keep dropping them. Usually we have to use the plunger or call maintenance when that happens. That night, though, would be different.
He gave out a yelp, and then I heard the door slam. I looked up. My door was partially closed, so I walked over to open it, and that’s when I saw him. He was slumped over on the toilet.
I ran over to him, ignored the penis in his hands, and checked for a pulse. He seemed fine. There were no wounds on him. He hadn’t moved, either, had obviously passed out on the seat. So how had the door been flung open?
I felt it again. The hand. It was on my arm this time. I would have let out a scream had it not clamped down. It felt like my bones were being grinded together. The pain was so immense that my vision flickered, and I could only whimper.
I was thrown back into my room. Somehow, I landed on my bed. Then I saw it. The monster was there, standing in the doorway. Perhaps demon is a better word. It was tall, maybe seven or eight feet, and it was completely black. I don’t mean black as in a black laptop or shirt or an xbox. This thing defied logic. It seemed to be so dark that light did nothing to illuminate it.
It had horns, antler-like but distinct in that they came from the side of its head and were not very long. The eyes were the worst. They were coal-black, with tinges of red where white should have been. And they were looking straight at me.
I did scream then. Someone said something in an adjacent room. The demon’s head whipped to the side unnaturally, like a kid whipping a pool noodle, and then it scrambled into the ceiling. Yeah, you read that right. It went into the ceiling, climbed up the walls like a drugged-up lizard and just phased through the tiles.
I didn’t move until the RA came over. He noticed Randolph first. Surprisingly, he did not make any snide remarks about Randolph’s dick. He called campus police before asking me what had happened. I told him. I asked if I would be in trouble. He said no way, because I obviously had not hurt Randolph. What had happened to him was a mystery.
Well, until the police arrived. They took him in, and I heard that he tested positive for MDMA. Ecstasy. I had not known him to be the druggie type. I mean, most college students experiment, but doing it in the dorm? It was asking for trouble. And Randolph was not stupid. He was a lot smarter than me, got a single B first semester and didn’t have to study as hard as most of us.
I wished he had been awake to see the demon. If he had been, of course, I suspect the demon would not have showed. It seemed to be fixated on me and me alone. It did not want to be seen by others. That was a comfort, I suppose, if not downright terrifying. There would be moments, I was sure, where I was forced to be alone. In the dorm or at a party or in a bathroom between classes… forgive me for the cliché, but the possibilities were endless.
So I told my roommates about what had happened. They didn’t get back until late that night, well after I had gone to sleep. I don’t know how I did. I guess I’m a heavy sleeper, is all. You kind of have to be if you want any rest in a dorm, at least one as rowdy as ours can get.
None of us had classes the next morning. Jason was skeptical, as he should have been. If he had told me about monsters and demons, I wouldn’t have believed him. Richard was more open to the idea, but he didn’t seem to care. He told me to chill out. I was too stressed, he said. Did I need to talk about what had happened last semester?
“It has nothing to do with that,” I snapped.
He raised his hands. “Hey, dude, don’t yell at me. I’m just trying to help.”
“Yeah,” I told him. “I know.”
“Then listen to me, man. You need to take a breather. When’s the last time you went to a party? Hey, you know what, I’ve got the perfect idea. I met this girl last night. Super hot and friendly. She’s your type. I think-“
“I’m not looking for a hookup,” I said flatly.
“What? You’re gonna turn down sex?”
I stared at him, and I think he finally got the message. He shut up.
“I have an idea,” Jason said. “What if we set up surveillance? I know a place where we can get hidden cameras. It’s not far from campus. I’ll get them after class Friday. If it doesn’t like being watched, like you say, then it shouldn’t bother you again.”
I knew Jason didn’t believe me. Still, the fact that he wanted to ease my nerves meant a lot. He’s not the most outgoing kind of guy. He’s a nerd, a chemistry student with a passion for chemistry and nothing else. He’s involved in academic extracurriculars only. I think he’s dated before, but I never learned the details. He doesn’t talk about girls. I only know that there’s this one girl in my English class, Jessica, who says he’s a creep.
We stuck to the plan. It wasn’t foolproof- I would find myself alone outside of the dorm eventually- but it was good enough. As it turned out, I would be by myself Saturday morning. Jason had a club meeting that for some reason had not been held during the week, and Richard was going on a date. He has unconventional good looks- long black hair, brown eyes, thin beard with just the right shape- and he’s smooth. Like, more smooth than should be humanly possible. He’s chill around us and chiller around girls, like he’s known them forever. They love that about him, how genuine he can be.
I begged one of them to stay. Jason told me, understandably, that he couldn’t miss the meeting. Richard was not about to ghost the girl he had been building a relationship with for the past month. Jason said I could always call for the RA or other guys in the dorm. I figured he was right. I also figured I didn’t want the demon to show up at all. Screw proving it to my roommates- I just wanted it to go away.
It didn’t appear until two hours after Jason left. Richard had already been gone for a while, had probably made his way back to the girl’s room. I heard it before I saw it. The demon made a slithering sound when it walked. I had not noticed before because it always appeared, never really moved across the room.
I looked up. You’d think seeing it two times before would make it less scary. You’d be wrong. Having a seven-foot, black-skinned behemoth with antlers and red eyes stand over you, it’s just too much. I screamed like a girl. I guess that time it didn’t get close enough to shut me up.
Its head darted toward the door, and for some reason I took my eyes off the thing. Jason was standing there with his backpack in his hand. His jaw had dropped so far open I thought he would shriek like one of those possessed people in horror movies. The demon skittered up the wall and through the ceiling.
We looked at each other for a while, neither of us speaking. He was still holding his backpack in one hand. I was halfway out of my chair, frozen, ready to spring up at the sight of another monster. Finally he dropped his backpack, and I fell into my seat.
“What the fuck was that?” Jason said. His words startled me. I almost never heard him swear.
“It’s what I told you about,” I said. Even as I spoke, Jason was climbing on the bed, reaching for one of the cameras, taking it down and hooking it up to his laptop. “Now you believe me?”
“I think I have to,” he said, laughing nervously. “Unless we’re both insane.”
He tinkered with his laptop for a while. When he started cursing, I walked over and asked what the problem was. He just pointed to the screen. I looked and saw the timestamp in the bottom left corner. Twenty minutes ago, about when he had walked in and saw the demon. The room was empty. Then I saw him appear in the doorway, flabbergasted, before climbing on the bed and taking down the camera. The footage ended there.
“It didn’t show up,” I said.
“We’re both crazy, after all,” he told me.
“No, we’re not. Think about it. Would a demon want to show itself? This is the first time someone else has seen it. If you hadn’t walked in when you did, I doubt you would have ever gotten your proof.”
He rubbed his chin. “You might be right.”
“You can’t tell me you think that was a hallucination. I told you about it earlier this week. How the hell do you explain seeing what I had already seen?”
“Yeah,” Jason sighed. “I just was hoping it wasn’t real.”
We talked about it for a while. He wanted to know exactly what had happened at the party. I wasn’t sure what good it would do, but I told him anyways. There was no harm in sharing. Besides, I wanted to tell someone. I had only mentioned the demon in vague details when I had first seen it. Telling the whole story, about how it had emerged from a shadow and almost suffocated me to death, that would have been a red flag for sure. Jason would have referred me to the counseling office.
We waited for Richard to get home. When he did, he was drunk on ecstasy or alcohol or both. I don’t mean the drug ecstasy, either. He was grinning stupidly, and I was sure he’d have some wild sex story to talk about. Before he could share, Jason started explaining rapidly what had happened, and he sobered up fast.
Richard hadn’t been skeptical from the start. Hearing Jason talk about the demon only made him more convinced. He wanted to summon it immediately and fight.
“We’ll be killed,” I told him.
“Nah,” he said. “I can call in some of my buddies. I think one of them, that football player that lives off campus? I think he has a gun.”
“Jesus, Rich,” Jason said. “You want to bring a gun into the dorm?”
He shrugged. “Would they blame us if we were hunting a demon?”
“Yes, they would,” I told him. “There are no guns allowed. Besides, the thing didn’t show up on camera.”
We hinged on a plan that admittedly had more flaws than a third-grade essay. Jason did some research. He had to go through the deep web, which I know nothing about, and he found some information. First, he determined that, from my description, the demon supposedly took away men’s fertility.
Had it killed my father?
I didn’t want to think about that. It hardly mattered what had happened, because the past would not change.
We didn’t really find anything on how to kill the demon. Jason had a few suggestions based on the show Supernatural, but I shot those down. I figured a fictional series would know nothing about real life. Unless those were real, he told me. I’d seen a little of the show myself, and I insisted that what I had seen was very different than a demon occupying a human host.
In the end, we had no idea what the hell we were doing. We just made a conglomeration of different precautions. Jason bought some salt, Richard brought a hunting knife (that, unlike a gun, might not get me expelled), I asked around and found out that most of my friends found me crazy. I understood. If one of them had come to me asking about demons, I would have acted the same.
Richard also asked some of his friends for help. Somehow, they believed him. I’m not sure if it’s because of Richard’s charisma or because he never lies or both. Whatever the case, he actually found someone who claimed to know a thing or two.
She was an old woman, and she met with Richard during the week. He came back and told us that the demon took the fertility of older men, then killed them. I asked why it was stalking me. He said they did not like leaving any descendants.
I think that’s when I realized: this thing had been hunting my dad. It seemed so obvious now. There are many, many people in the world that purposefully have one child. My parents, though? I knew immediately what had happened. This demon had stalked my dad. It had killed him, too, and now it, as Richard had said, wanted to finish the job.
That was when I stopped caring. I didn’t mind that what we were doing was crazy. I didn’t mind the possibility of a horrible death, because it was quite likely given our meager preparations. I was dead anyways, and that knowledge made me more confident in what we were doing, as strange as it may sound.
After my dad died, I was never angry. My mom was, for sure; she blamed the police for botching the investigation, when in fact there was absolutely no evidence for them to use. I had understood. My dad had been murdered, yes, but without a perpetrator I had not been able to direct any anger I might have felt.
Now it was different. I wanted to confront this demon and rip its eyes from its sockets. I wanted to send it back to Hell, or send it there for the first time if it had never visited, and let it suffer for all eternity. I couldn’t know if my dad was the only victim. He probably hadn’t been. Most of the time, the demon tended to pray on men that had no children.
I’m not sure how it made a mistake with me. I just knew that the mistake would be its last.
I was sitting on my bed, surrounded by salt, holding a knife and a bottle of holy water with Jason and Richard waiting down the hall. They had closed the door, and to make themselves inconspicuous they were pretending to work on homework. In reality, they were waiting for me to call for help, if I needed it. I suspected I would.
Richard had dug deeper into his network of friends. He had spoken to a mother of a friend of a friend who owned an antique shop. She apparently owned a ceremonial dagger from the Middle Ages. She allowed him to borrow it for a price, so long as he brought it back in good condition. I don’t think she knew what we were using it for.
I felt the demon before I saw it. The room grew cold. I don’t mean chilly, I mean cold, like those walk-in freezers. Jason likened it to a cold room he had used during research. I don’t know anything about those, but maybe the analogy is useful for someone else.
It still scared me. The tall black figure with its truncated antlers was so unnatural, I figured I would never get used to seeing it. When it appeared in front of me and reached out a hand- I noticed now that the hand was covered in dry, cracked, human skin- I wanted to scream. I didn’t. I reached out my knife and stabbed it in the arm.
It didn’t flinch. The hand kept moving and grasped my neck. I could feel the dry skin shed and fall down the front of my shirt. I wanted to gag. The roughness of the hand drew blood. Instead of freezing up, I managed to open my bottle of holy water and toss it.
That did something. The demon let out this whine that I can liken only to an electronic device. It backed up, and I tossed more water on its face. The skin started to melt. I thought I had succeeded, but then bone began to surface from beneath, forming what looked like a grinning animal skull that was gnashing its teeth.
I screamed then. Richard burst into the room and threw his knife. Somehow it landed in the demon’s chest. That’s what did it, I think. It screamed so loud I thought I’d lose my hearing. My ears rang, and Richard was saying something to me, but my attention was fixated on the center of the room. The demon had tripped over a particularly large pile of salt. It was melting, taking the floor with it, like we had dropped a bottle of acid. There was a hole next to my bed.
I ignored what he and Jason were saying. I kept my eyes on the floor, watching the hole widen. It stopped, and when I finally turned towards my roommates, an RA was staring at us through the open doorway, frozen in place, fixated on the same thing that I had been.
He must have also noticed the antlers next to the hole.
The official report said nothing. It could not determine what had happened in the room. The RA didn’t believe our story. No other explanations emerged, though. I was told that no acid could eat through the floor as quickly as the demon’s remains had. Thank God Jason still had cameras up, because they showed exactly what had happened, though without the demon it just showed a hole opening up in the carpet.
Richard lost the knife and had to fork over a whopping two thousand dollars. He told us it was a bargain. The item had been priceless, most likely, and the woman could have bankrupted him for losing it.
I haven’t been haunted by anything since that incident freshman year. I started going to parties again. Jason moved on, pretending that none of it had happened, but Richard had a fantastic story to share with people. Most didn’t believe him. Some egged him on. A choice few took what he said too seriously, offering him other demon-hunting supplies. He laughed them off, saying the problem had been dealt with, so they instead came to me and explained the seriousness of my situation. I shook them off, too. What was I supposed to do? Start stockpiling ceremonial weapons and holy water?
I never told my mom. She wouldn’t have believed me. She didn’t hear about what had happened in the room, either. The footage showed us doing nothing, only me staring at a bunch of salt as it started dissolving the floor. None of us got in trouble. They didn’t even care that I had a knife sticking out of the wall. I guess they were too preoccupied with the rest of the scene.
I wish I could give you some dramatic conclusion, a fight that lasted for hours or an epic chase. On second thought, I’m glad I can’t describe that, but the truth is that what happened was pretty simple. I tossed some water and Richard threw a knife. That was it. The whole thing took thirty seconds at most.
It seems that most things in life are anticlimactic. An exciting movie, a first date, graduation- once it’s over, you’re left with a certain emptiness, like whatever you just did shouldn’t have ended so quickly. They say time flies (I hate that cliché), but it doesn’t. What happens is we expect things to be greater than they really are. We imagine some grand outcome, beyond what reality can provide us, and it almost never goes that way.
I can’t know for sure that I will be safe for the rest of my life. I only know that I’ve gotten through college unscathed so far. If there is another encounter, it won’t end well, because I won’t be prepared this time. It will be different, surely, a more dangerous monster or just a surprise attack when I least expect it. I definitely won’t write another story about it, because I’ll probably be dead.
If you hear about some university kid that dropped dead of a heart attack or washed up in a river, it will probably be me.
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2020.08.26 08:05 MansA26Augl Hidden web camera price
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2020.08.19 13:59 AdamantAce Hidden web camera price
DC Next presents:
GOTHAM KNIGHTS In Blood in the Water
Issue Sixteen: To Catch a Spider
Story by AdamantAce
Written by AdamantAce, deadislandman1 & ElusiveMonty
Edited by dwright5252
<< | < Prev. | Next Issue > Coming Next Month
“A shocking turn of events at Wayne Manor as it’s revealed that former ward of Bruce Wayne Dick Grayson has moved to adopt a sixteen year old orphan.” The voice of GCN personality Vesper Fairchild buzzed on the television screen. “What do you have to say to this, Hal?”
Vesper readjusted her spectacles as she shifted in her seat. She tucked her short, brown hair behind her ears and turned to her co-caster, Hal Lake.
“Well, the most shocking factor is that Grayson himself is barely pushing 30.” The younger newscaster held an empty coffee mug between his hands. “I mean, sure, the family is wealthy beyond imagination, but it takes a certain amount of worldly wisdom to be a father. I’d know!”
“That you would, Hal. You take good care of your boys!” Vesper turned back to face the camera. “But with the press, and other inquisitive Americans surrounding Wayne Manor awaiting the young girl’s arrival, we have to ask: What’s really going on here?”
From the drawing room of the ancestral home of the Wayne family, Dick Grayson wasn’t paying much attention to the news report on the TV behind him. Instead, he glanced through a crack in the drawn curtains onto the front grounds of the manor. He watched the paparazzi swarming the far gate as they surrounded and accosted the black limousine that inched through. Behind the wheel was Alfred - butler, head of security, and homemaker - with a special passenger on board. Dick sighed and leaned back from the bay window. He looked back into the house. After the weeks of hard work and jumping through government hoops to make this happen, the day was finally here.
Stephanie was the daughter of Arthur Brown, the Penguin henchmen Dick had teamed up with to bring down Oswald Cobblepot. And while Penguin now sat squarely behind bars, dead to rights, that was only after he put a bullet in Arthur’s head for his betrayal, with Stephanie held close at hand to watch. Dick had promised Arthur that Stephanie would have a good life, and he intended to make good on that promise.
A lot of work had been done to get things ready for Stephanie’s arrival. Workmen had been in to renovate one of the spare bedrooms, the mansion had been cleaned from top-to-bottom, and Jason had already started on one of his signature roast dinners. All was going well and according to plan, and - other than Kate, who endlessly pursued the remainder of Penguin’s forces - they had all hands on deck.
With hesitation, Dick joined Jason, Helena and Betty in the foyer, the large wooden front door looming before them. The door cracked open and, as it swung, the cacophonous cries of the news media erupted through it. In charged Alfred in his black suit, sheltering a young girl who dragged a large suitcase behind her. Then, Alfred heaved the large door shut and the raving paparazzi were silent once more.
“Miss Brown, you’ve already met Mister Grayson,” Alfred began. “But I’d like to introduce you Miss Helena, Master Jason and Miss Betty.”
Stephanie had long, wavy blonde hair. She stood 5’6”, around Helena’s height, in denim shorts, a green top and a green plaid shirt. In her off-hand she clutched at her cell phone. She moved away from Alfred, standing by herself and set her suitcase down. She was exhausted and overstimulated, not at all used to the media attention she had just experienced.
Dick stepped forward and smiled. “We’ve tried our best to get things ready for you, Stephanie. I hope you can begin to feel as at home as you can.”
“Sure thing,” Stephanie replied. “And don’t worry, you don’t have to try so hard with me.” Leaving her suitcase where it fell, Stephanie pushed forward, moving between Betty and Jason and approaching the master staircase. “Where’s my room?”
“Excuse me?” Helena cocked her head, confused.
Stephanie stopped halfway up the stairs and turned to face her hosts. “You guys don’t care about me. You’ve had a shitty year, the city thinks you’re assholes, so you’re taking in a scared, innocent orphan off the streets to get some good publicity.”
Dick blinked, utterly stunned. He didn’t even realise their public image was that bad.
Betty stepped forward and laughed nervously. “Stephanie… I don’t think that’s what’s going on here.”
But Stephanie just smiled and shook her head. “Oh, I don’t mind. This whole deal? It’s too good to be true. Kids like me don’t just get adopted by billionaires.”
Jason shrugged. “Kids like us did.”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Stephanie continued. “All I’m saying is that I’ve had a shit life. Mom died of cancer. Dad got shot last month. As long as there’s food on the table and a decent college fund in it for me, I’m happy to smile on cue and go on Good Morning Gotham and tell everyone how incredible you guys are.”
Jason looked to Dick, stunned and searching for a response. Dick stepped forward, “Stephanie, I’m sorry but--”
“Can one of you please just show me to my room,” she interrupted him. “It’s been a long… month.”
Silently, Alfred nodded and - taking her suitcase - joined Stephanie on the stairs.
♦ ♦ 🦇 ♦ ♦
Kate Kane stared at herself in the mirror. Her purse was on the floor, a box of chocolates and a book inside, both for Maggie Sawyer - her old flame and Dick’s police partner. She would go see her in a moment. For now she was focused on the fatigue in her eyes, something she caught just before leaving the bathroom. She dropped her purse, ran the faucet and splashed some cold water into her face. Then, looking back at her was the face of Batwoman. A mask over her face that meant she lived to protect. To do what others weren’t capable of doing.
At least, that’s what she always thought.
But she couldn’t even do that. A realisation was growing in the back of her mind that she couldn’t let come to the forefront anytime soon: the realisation that she couldn’t save everyone. The realisation that she could fail, no matter how hard she tried.
Kate clenched her eyes shut. Even if she’d fail she could get revenge. She could send Black Spider - the son of a bitch who broke Maggie’s legs when she tried to arrest his employer the Penguin - where he belonged.
She opened her eyes and saw herself looking back. Those tired eyes from before. The pale face of a woman who was losing a grip on what she stood for, on what she could do for others. But, right now, she could only be herself. She could only be Kate Kane. All she could do was be there for Maggie, a woman she was lucky to have, alive. Someone who could hold things in balance just a bit better than Kate could alone.
Kate went through the process of checking in and was led up to Maggie’s hospital room.
They hadn’t been able to see each other much over the past month. For good reason. Maggie’s legs had been decimated. Such pain… Kate had experienced plenty of pain in her life. But a pain like this she couldn’t even begin to imagine. Kate was there when it happened. Maggie’s shin bones had been completely snapped in half. The screams were brief but they sent tremors down Kate’s body. For a moment Kate thought Maggie had died from the injury, the way her body went limp, how suddenly her screams had fallen away from her mouth.
But Maggie survived. She couldn’t see her during the hospital trip, nor during the surgeries and treatments. The first time Kate saw her, Maggie’s face was pale as a sheet of paper. The skin of her legs that showed above the casts and wraps were the most purple Kate had ever seen on flesh. She couldn’t speak to her then. She was completely out cold, machines monitoring her breathing, giving her proper hydration.
But now, Maggie was awake. Bedridden. She had her phone so she texted Kate letting her know that she was allowed visitors and Kate immediately scheduled a visit to the hospital.
And now, she stood in the doorway, seeing Maggie sitting up further in bed, gazing out the window. Her legs vanished within the confines of massive casts and bands. They were each raised in traction, her body reclined just a bit to make herself comfortable. She slowly turned and smiled at Kate.
“Hey you,” Maggie said. Her eyes moved from Kate down to her legs. There was a certain sadness in her face despite her smile. Her gaze lingered on the casts. With a sigh she said, “Never thought I’d know what it’s like to lose feeling in something I use everyday.” She gave a sniff, one of acknowledgement. “You really don’t know what you have until it’s gone.” She glanced over at Kate.
While Kate knew Maggie’s predicament was the most important thing in the room right now, she could see Maggie’s double meaning in that statement. Her look solidified it. And Kate had often felt the same about the two of them. Kate gave her a soft smile in return. They had both messed up in the past. But now, there was a sliver of hope for Maggie’s recovery. And Kate wanted to be there for her every step of the way. Because, for the first time in a while, it seemed like nothing was gone. Everything just might be coming together.
Kate walked over to the bedside and pulled out her gifts. Maggie’s face lit up - Kate could never understand her love for mystery thrillers, they were all so generic - but it made her happy to see her happy.
“Oh, you are the best.” Maggie took the book and flipped it over scanning the backside blurb. “This is the new release.” Her eyes glanced away a moment. “I’m… surprised you remembered I like this series.”
Kate sat down in the chair facing the bed and handed her the chocolates as well. “How could I forget? When the subject of books came up you talked my ear off about it when we--” Kate had been reminiscing without noticing. She paused. “When we started walking back to my apartment. On our first date.”
Maggie laughed. “And you put up with every bit of it. I remember really liking that about you.”
Kate grinned. “The first mark of a suitable partner: whether or not they can put up with your bullshit interests.”
They both laughed. And then Maggie looked down at the box of chocolates and ran her thumbnail across the plastic covering. “They say my chances are good. Seventy percent chance I’ll be able to walk at least with assistance, including a smaller chance I’ll be able to without.” She paused. “But odds are I’ll never make a full recovery, the force will never take me back for active duty.”
Kate wanted to say something to that. Couldn’t think of anything. The surgeon, Dr Elliot had already told her as much privately, but the sheer look of depression on Maggie’s face left her lost for words. Her next thought was to take Maggie’s hand but… that just didn’t seem right. Not right now. So, all Kate could think to say was “I’m so sorry.” It was such a useless thing. But it helped that Maggie nodded, as if it was acceptable at the very least.
Maggie continued. “If the force ever takes me back, I’ll either be stuck at a desk, or a liability…”
“You can’t think about that right now,” Kate said.
“How can I not?”
“Because--” Kate breathed. “Because. Having a chance is something people dream of having. You’re getting the best care available. You will walk again.”
Maggie frowned. To Kate’s surprise she held out her hand. Her heart skipped a beat seeing her do it. “Will you visit me more often, Kate?” She closed her eyes. Kate could see it was hard for her to admit what she was about to. “I feel… I feel so alone in this. I don’t know what to do.”
Kate took Maggie’s hand and squeezed it tight.
“Only if you share some of that chocolate with me,” Kate teased. Maggie laughed and squeezed her hand back. Kate watched her smile, the way she clenched her eyes shut whenever she genuinely let out a hearty laugh. Kate admired her. Probably always would. If anything… she would be a friend. It was the least she could do. And it was something she wanted more than anything else right then.
“I’ll be here with you as much as I can,” Kate said. “You’re not alone.”
Kate stayed with Maggie a long while. They chatted about some stories they had both missed out on in each other’s lives, about how Kate was doing. They ate chocolate and made fun of a nonsense reality show.
She couldn’t stay forever though, as much as she wanted to. She kept glancing over at her legs; even though Maggie’s career prospects were seriously bleak, it didn’t mean she wasn’t lucky. If she were anyone else, anyone with fewer opportunities, fewer chances, she would have lost her legs entirely. If she was anyone with less willpower she could have died.
And the person who did this to her was still out there. The bastard who did this might do it to someone else. Kate might not have been able to save everyone. But what she could do was stop one person. If she focused. If she worked.
Kate and Maggie hugged one another. She promised she would visit again before her next surgery. She gathered her purse and left the room, and she did so, she wasn’t Kate Kane any longer. She was a hunter. An avenger. She would find Black Spider - pursue every lead she had - and make him pay.
♦ ♦ 🦇 ♦ ♦
Dick Grayson stood alone out the back of the mansion, looking off over the green acres of land, through the pristinely kept gardens. Even as everything had fallen into disarray over the last two years, he’d made sure to keep the gardens in good condition. He remembered when he first arrived at the manor as a boy, how Alfred had led him through the gardens. It was maintaining those topiaries and flora that kept him grounded the first few months, and though nowadays they paid gardeners to do the job, he still took pride in the view.
But all wasn’t well, far from it.
After some time, another figure joined Dick at his side: Betty Kane. On leave from the covert UN task force the Blackhawks, Betty was slowly getting more comfortable back at Wayne Manor, having previously never turned back after Bruce fired her as Batgirl years ago. She had returned to support Kate, her cousin, upon learning she was operating as Batwoman, and had stayed longer following the tragedy that befell Detective Sawyer. Now, with Penguin behind bars, but Black Spider still out there, how long Betty would remain in Gotham was unclear.
“How are you holding up?” Betty stood by Dick’s side.They were kids when they dated, not even close to old enough to know what love was, but after Betty had left his life so suddenly, having her back made Dick realise how much he had felt her absence in the intervening years.
“I’m not sure how to feel, to be honest,” Dick spoke, exasperated. In the back of his mind, he was frustrated, angry, but he knew better than to blame Stephanie for thinking something was amiss. “What do you think of her?”
“The girl’s a snot-nosed bitch,” Betty replied plainly, pulling her black jacket tight to combat the crisp wind. “And she doesn’t know how lucky she is.”
“No,” Dick shook his head, correcting her. “Stephanie knows exactly how lucky she is. That’s the problem: It’s too good to be true.” Dick stopped and looked at Betty. He thought back to the days when he first arrived at Wayne Manor, fresh off the death of his parents. “When Bruce took me in… I didn’t get it. Bruce Wayne was a playboy, the most eligible bachelor in the city, in the prime of his life. Why would he adopt a kid, especially one from a travelling circus? All the tabloids figured a kid would get in the way of his lifestyle, and it did.”
“So that’s what you’re doing then?” Betty prodded him. “Scouting a new Robin from the local orphanage?”
“No, no,” Dick protested. “Bruce didn’t even adopt me to make me his sidekick. That was my choice. I snuck out of the house at nights by myself to hunt for justice for my parents, to find Tony Zucco. Nearly got myself killed until Batman swooped in and stopped me. Then Bruce told me the truth, I think to get me to stop playing renegade. He promised to help me bring in Zucco, to make sure I was safe. Then after he was behind bars, Bruce agreed to train me… and I took the oath.”
“The whole handle thing?” Betty asked. “’I swear to fight against crime and corruption’ and all that? Bruce had me take that oath too.”
“In the earliest days, before I knew Bruce’s secret, God, the manor was pretty much empty most nights,” Dick continued. “Bruce Wayne was hardly an attentive parent, and I figured he was off at some nightclub every night. Then, I really didn’t get it. Why adopt a kid if you weren’t gonna spend any time with him?”
“No wonder the tabloids speculated,” Betty replied.
“At least Stephanie will have no shortage of company.”
“Sure, except for when there’s a late night whole family excursion,” Betty rolled her eyes.
Dick squirmed where he stood. “Look, I know it’s not perfect, but I promised her father she’d be looked after, kept safe. I can’t break that promise.”
Betty stirred as Dick glanced off. Slowly, she placed a hand on his shoulder. Dick had always been mature beyond his years, even as a child crimefighter in green, scaly shorts. It gave him wisdom and stability, a reason Betty was attracted to him in her youth, but it also gave him a heavy burden. “Maybe… it’d be easier to give Stephanie what she needs if… there’s more adults around the house than just you and Alfred. Adults that don’t wear capes.”
Dick turned back to her, surprised. He always assumed she held some resentment for Dick, as many seemed to do, because Bruce pushed her out and kept him close. Apparently, he was wrong. “I… No, you have the Blackhawks, that’s a lot of responsibility.”
“And I’ve been saving my vacation days,” Betty grinned, inching closer. “It’s important work, but it’s lonely work. Besides… it’s not a full time job anyway.” Dick stared into her gleaming blue eyes. “Lots of downtime…”
Dick pulled himself back and back to task. This wasn’t about him or his happiness. “I didn’t trust Bruce until I knew who he really was,” he spoke. Betty frowned softly and stepped back, slightly embarrassed. Dick continued, “I tried to run away more times than I could count. We can only expect the same from Stephanie unless we’re honest.”
“Well…” Betty replied, still recovering, “You can’t tell Stephanie the truth unless you’re ready for her to demand a cape and a mask and some help getting her revenge. Look where it got you and Jason, and me with my aunt Kathy.”
Dick shook his head. “No, we already brought Penguin to justice.”
“That doesn’t mean she isn’t angry.”
♦ ♦ 🦇 ♦ ♦
Councilwoman Noctua’s newest gathering was a splendid event, marked by the jewels on women's necks, the glass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and the waiters milling about, serving drinks to all who attended the gathering. Noctua herself walked amongst her privileged guests, flanked by her bodyguard as she conversed with her esteemed peers, jubilating in her accomplishments and reveling in the self-indulgent circlejerk of rich men and women complimenting each other.
Kate had seen it all before, and she’d rather not stake this kind of party out from the inside again.
Anchored to the side of the tower and listening in on the party, Batwoman peered in from the outside, keeping an eye on the bodyguard she had recognised and photographed at the last election event. His general build and posture were similar to the assassin Black Spider, too similar for her to ignore. If this guy really was the one who hurt Maggie, then she had to find out for sure. Watching him mill about next to Noctua, she noticed his hand drifting down into his pocket, slipping his phone out as he glanced at the screen. Raising an eyebrow, the bodyguard leaned into Noctua’s ear, whispering something to her before she nodded in response. Breaking off from his client, the bodyguard shuffled out to a lonely balcony separate from the party, where Kate could hear him more clearly.
Pulling out his phone, the bodyguard dialed a number before bringing it up to his ear, letting it ring for a few seconds before someone answered.
“You wanted to talk?” said the bodyguard, seemingly listening to the person on the other end, “No I just… I thought you were still out of the country. Tonight? That’s...a good time. Meet me at my safehouse, Ellen Street, apartment complex across from the pizza place, Room 12. I’ll be there once this gala’s over.”
Hanging up, the bodyguard returned to the party, leaving Kate with a new place to go. Turning her head outward towards the dark and stormy clouds forming over the city, Kate decided knew exactly what to do next. Spreading her cape, Kate leapt from the building and glided further into the heart of the city.
She’d find out who this guy was, for Maggie.
♦ ♦ 🦇 ♦ ♦
Stephanie continued unpacking her clothes from the large suitcase that lay flat on her new bed. That was all she had to call her own, shirts, hoodies, jeans and shorts. That was the way of the poorest of Gotham; they didn’t have the luxury of having possessions. But that was about to change. Stephanie looked about the room the butler had led her to: newly renovated, a queen-sized bed, curtains adorned with excessive intricacies, a large wooden dresser and a looming wardrobe. And while Stephanie had never been the criminal her father was, she couldn’t help but pace the room and price up everything that wasn’t bolted down. She had entered a new life: one of luxury, of having all of her needs met. But why?
She hadn’t done anything to earn this, she hadn’t clawed her way out of her circumstances tooth and nail, she had been arbitrarily plucked out of poverty. To many it would have been a dream come true, but Stephanie knew better than to blindly accept suspicious happenings in Gotham City. So her dad had gotten himself killed helping the police take down the Penguin? Did his death mean she’d earned a ticket to the upper echelon? Or was it - like Stephanie had accused - a circus act like the one Dick Grayson grew up in, meant to distract the media from the Wayne family’s dodgy dealings?
As Stephanie spiralled, she heard a soft knock at the door. She stopped, hooking a clothes hanger into the towering wardrobe, and looked to the door. She said nothing but the door inched open anyway. In crept Helena Wayne, Bruce Wayne’s biological child, born into this life. That meant that, of all of the frauds that had greeted Stephanie, Helena could relate to her the least.
“Hey, do you… need any help unpacking?” Helena spoke. The look of anger and vitriol from her face earlier was washed away. She now only looked nervous.
“The butler’s been more than enough help,” Stephanie replied.
“His name’s Alfred, but… yeah,” said Helena, moving beyond the door and into the room. “Well, do you want to talk?”
Stephanie scoffed and threw herself down onto the bed, sitting on its cushioned edge. With a sarcastic grin, she patted the space beside her. “Well, sure! I’d be thrilled to play sisters!”
Instantly, Helena snapped, and her look of exasperated disdain was back. “Look, Dick actually wants to help you. We all do. But it’ll be a lot harder on all of us if you put so much energy into--” Helena caught herself with a deep breath, but the damage was done.
Stephanie cocked her head. “Into what? Into being a bitch?” Stephanie stared Helena down, who had no response. “You don’t want to help me. You want to help yourselves just as much as I want to help myself. Just as my dad wanted to help himself and not me with all his shady business.”
“That’s not true.”
“You act like it’s noble, but I know it costs you peanuts to take me in,” Stephanie frowned, standing up from the bed. “And you get more than your money’s worth in good PR out of it.”
“I don’t care about how the media sees me,” Helena shook her head. “I’ve grown up under public scrutiny, I’ve dealt with worse.”
“Have you? Seems to me that you care an awful lot about how they see your pop, Bruce Wayne.” Stephanie stepped forward. “You all lied about his death to protect the company, and you only came clean when his reputation was at stake. I do watch the news, everyone’s thinking it.”
Helena dug her heels in. Stephanie was scared and angry about things she couldn’t control, Helena knew this. She wasn’t going to give her the fight she was spoiling for. “Sure,” she said plainly, a tear welling in her eye. “And now he’s dead. So us taking care of your ungrateful ass won’t do much for him now, will it?”
And with those words, Helena stormed out, leaving the door ajar behind her.
Stephanie went to take a deep breath as her adrenaline pumped, but it wasn’t enough. Instead, she went back to the bed and threw her fists down, digging them into the comforter. She wanted nothing more to cry, but she still hadn’t been able to since she watched her dad die. She grabbed the pillow and pulled it close, pressing her nose deep into it, and screamed a muffled scream.
Moments later, another voice sounded. A young man. “Everything okay?”
Stephanie threw herself to her feet and whipped around to face Jason Todd. She was in no mood. “You guys formed a line out there!?”
Jason bowed his head. “No, I’m sorry. Helena can be a bit of a princess sometimes.”
His face was soft, framed by his dark auburn hair. He was muscular, more so than DIck and approaching a similar height too. If it weren’t for his baby face, Stephanie would have a hard time believing Jason was so much younger than Dick. And, faced with Jason’s comment on Helena, Stephanie couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you kidding? I was a total bitch to her just now.”
“Yeah,” Jason shrugged. “And I’d be the same in your shoes. I was.”
Stephanie said nothing but cocked her head slightly.
“Bruce adopted me right as Dick was getting ready to go off to college,” Jason explained. “He took me in off the streets, gave me everything I could ever want, and I still couldn’t help but feel like I was just Dick Grayson’s replacement.”
“Your parents were dead acrobats too?”
“If they were, they did a good job of hiding it,” Jason stifled a laugh. “Your dad worked for Penguin? Mine worked for Two-Face. Ended up getting him killed too, along with my mom and my sister. I got out.”
Now Stephanie felt like an asshole. “I’m… sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Jason smiled heavily. “It was years ago. And I have these guys now, for better and for worse.”
Stephanie smiled. “So you’re saying I better start worrying if I find out you’re off to college soon, then?” she joked.
Jason edged further into the room. “Oh, I can promise you I am not, despite everything pressuring me to. I’ve got a good enough career path laid out for me here in Gotham, where I am now.”
Stephanie softened slightly for the first time since she had arrived. “Well, unlike everyone else, I hope you do stick around. You’ll make all of this way more bearable.”
“I’m glad,” Jason nodded. Then, he turned and moved to leave, wrapping his hand around the inside edge of the door. But he stopped and turned back for a moment. “Please just… give them a chance.They’re a lot, but they’re good people.”
Jason went to leave again, but Stephanie this time stopped him. “To be clear, I’m not into the whole ‘technically we’re not biological’ situation.”
Instantly, Jason recoiled and leapt back. “God, no! You’re - what - sixteen?” He grinned. “You’re far too young for me, little sis.”
Stephanie laughed, relieved to have that one cleared up.
Jason stood in the doorway, ready to leave her alone with her thoughts. “And don’t be late for dinner. I worked really hard on it.”
♦ ♦ 🦇 ♦ ♦
Lighting arced across the sky, quickly followed by a clap of thunder as Batwoman crouched on a ratty, dirty rooftop, the rain wetting the hair beneath her red wig while running down the sides of her mask. Kate shivered, the icy water pattering against her suit and making everything colder. She could have been inside, sipping some hot cocoa with Maggie, but instead she was freezing her ass off outside, a pair of binoculars glued to her eyes as she staked out the apartment Noctua’s bodyguard had mentioned.
If she was right about this, then she would know for sure that the man at Noctua’s side was Black Spider, whether Noctua was in league with the Penguin, and from there she could bring the bastard to justice.
Seeing that the apartment was indeed empty, Kate clipped the binoculars to her belt, clasped both sides of her cape and made a leap off the rooftop, slowly gliding downward towards the roof of the apartment building before finally touching down in front of a skylight leading inside. Kate slipped her left hand into her right glove, pulling out an electronic lockpick. Kate dismantled the lock and pried open the window, careful as to not let too much of the rain get into the apartment as she slipped inside, and closed it behind her. She leapt down to the ground floor, landing with a soft pap.
Standing up straight, Kate scanned her surroundings.. A spartan kitchen sat in the corner of the room, built with wooden cabinets and a granite countertop. A single mattress was stuffed into another corner of the room next to a window, resting on a cheap metal bed frame, with no blankets or bed sheets. A small TV sat on a stack of boxes by the wall nearest the front door leading, flanked by a rug laid neatly across the middle of the floor. The apartment was small and bare.
Kate furrowed her brows, eyeing each part of the room while attempting to deduce where a mercenary would hide his gear. Underneath the bed was an obvious choice, so Kate skulked over to the bed frame, crouching to peer underneath.
Nothing but dust and a few books.
This was to be expected; a seasoned operative like Black Spider wouldn’t put his gear in a place so easy to find. Instead, he’d likely put it behind a few layers of obstacles. Turning her attention towards the rug, Kate knelt down, placing her hand on its hand-woven fabric. Her old squadmate Leo liked to hide cigarettes underneath their bunk room’s rug, placing a few packs in a compartment between the floorboards hidden beneath. Kate gripped the side of the rug hard, tossing it aside and inspecting what was beneath it.
The trapdoor wasn’t as obvious as the one back at her bunk, but the marked absence of the dust that littered the rest of the apartment gave it away. Kate slid her fingers underneath the hidden latch and lifted to reveal a small black compartment. A black-and-purple suit with ruby goggles sat neatly folded. This was Black Spider’s suit, and now she knew for certain that this entire apartment was that bastard's base of operations.
Suddenly, the sound of keys jangled from behind the door: someone was trying to get in. Quickly throwing the trapdoor back down and flipping the rug back into place, Kate used the bed as a launchpad to leap back onto the skylight, pulling herself up before handing off of the inside of the window. Glancing downward, a conversation could be heard as Noctua’s bodyguard walked into the apartment with a taller man with a cracked face and long grey hair.
“I don’t mean to be rude, Father, but…” said the bodyguard, now confirmed as the assassin Black Spider, “I just wasn’t expecting you.”
“I was passing through, Johnny, still set on my search for any remnants of the bloodline, but I’ve come up with nothing.” said the older man, a clear authority infused with his voice. From above, Kate searched the man’s face the best she could for any recognition, hoping it would aid in Betty’s investigation into Black Spider’s allies, but he truly seemed to be a stranger. “I trust you’ve been doing an effective job?”
“Yes, Father!” said Black Spider, “I’ve been performing to the best of my abilities.”
The older man nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer, “That’s good, I’m sure you’re doing a fine job, Johnny.”
“Thank you, Father.” the assassin replied, rubbing the back of his head. “I’m sorry to hear your latest search for the remainders came up empty.”
“It is what it is. Perhaps there are none left alive,” said the older man, “Perhaps we did too good a job before. The search has turned up only old bones and relics, nothing concrete. Figuring I’d run out of leads, I decided to return to Gotham. I felt it would be good to receive your mission report in person this time.”
“Right,” said Spider, quickly tightening his tie, “Ask away and I’ll answer.”
Kate pondered the conversation happening below her, especially the part about a bloodline. Was this the mission of the hidden conspiracy Betty had spoken of? From the looks of it, this was about more than money, judging from the older man’s affection for the assassin, and the method by which Black Spider addressed him.
“The al Ghul child?” asked the older man.
“Not in Gotham, but he passed through.” Black Spider answered.
“And Jason Todd?”
"He still doesn't know his true heritage. Sister's still out of the picture. He thinks she's dead."
“The UN Agent?”
“Here in the city, much to my surprise. But none the wiser to anything, including what my business is in Gotham.”
"Exposed. New daddy’s dead. Police partner's out of commission. Now he's saddled with another stray. Plus the city's turning against the whole family."
“And what about your sister?”
“Nothing. She can’t be in Gotham, I searched hard enough. I was hoping you’d find her.”
The older man sighed, walking up to Black Spider and placing his hand on the assassin’s shoulder, “I’ve had no luck in that area either, but still, I’m proud of the work you’ve been doing while I’ve been gone, and I’m very happy to have you back into the fold. I hope that, in the future, I can entrust you with even more responsibility.”
Black Spider seemed to tremble a little in reverence to the older man, his breath shaky as he nodded, “Thank you, Father. It’s my greatest wish to earn your appreciation.”
The older man pulled the plainclothes assassin into a brief but tight embrace for a few moments, smiling as he did. Kate listened keenly and heard the man whisper in his son’s ear. “You are doing great work, son.” Then, the older man let go and moved back. He checked his wristwatch and frowned, “I have something coming up, we’ll have to finish this later. Stay out of trouble.”
“Yes, Father,” said Black Spider, watching as the older man turned around and left the apartment, leaving him and a surprised Kate in the room. Kate kept her grip, placing her hand on the glass pane to slip back out again. While this would be the good moment to ambush Black Spider, he was a metahuman assassin, and he was more than a match for Kate, Betty and Helena together when last they fought. Kate needed a better opportunity, a trap of some kind. But now she knew where to find him, Kate only had to retreat to her apartment and come up with a more concrete plan.
Moving towards the pane, Kate was about halfway through when lightning struck once again, igniting the night sky with bright light. As the light hit Kate, it cast a shadow through the skylight, a shadow that appeared right in front of the assassin. Seeing her figure against the bright light, Black Spider whirled around to find Batwoman quickly rolling out of the window, the pane slamming shut behind her.
Tumbling onto the rain soaked rooftop, Kate began to make a run for the edge, her hand drifting over her grapnel gun. As she got closer, the sound of glass shattering reached her ears as a metallic web shot up the side of the building, latching onto the edge and prompting Kate to slide to a stop. A hand flew up to grab the edge, and Black Spider clambered onto the roof, having quickly donned his wrist gauntlets. Standing up straight, he glared at her with rage-fueled eyes and threw himself at the heroine, unleashing a flurry of quick and precise strikes on her.
As good as Kate was, she wasn’t quite as good as Black Spider. Despite her best efforts to block his attacks, Black Spider still got enough hits in. He threw a palm strike, hitting her square in the jaw and crashing her teeth together. As she instinctively raised her arms to protect her face, the assassin threw another punch at her side, cracking her ribs with a single move. Kate swung her head into his, cracking him right in the nose and causing him to stumble back as she shuffled away, clutching her side.
Tasting blood in her mouth, Kate wiped her lips. Black Spider shook his head before making a charge for Kate again. Realizing she had to end this in one single motion if she wanted to get away, Kate planted her feet, waiting in anticipation with arms raised as Black Spider jumped at her, catching her in the chest with a flying kick. Having braced in advance for an attack like this, Kate smiled through crimson stained teeth and grabbed hold of his leg, using both her body weight and the momentum of his attack to pivot them both, swinging him with all her might before letting go, sending Black Spider sailing down into the skylight, destroying the panes as he fell back into his apartment.
Kate limped to the edge of the rooftop with haste, spreading her cape before pushing off of the building and gliding away as fast as the wind could take her. Feeling herself falter, Kate angled herself to fly into a nearby alley before her grip on her cape loosened, her muscles weak and aching. She plummeted, colliding with the concrete and cracking her mask. Groaning, Kate dragged herself up the nearest wall and forced herself to walk down the way. Confident that the assassin couldn’t follow her after pushing off from the roof, she stumbled out of the alley, electing to return to her apartment to recover. He had bested her for now, but now she knew where he lived, and Black Spider was going down.
Next: Follow Dick into unfamiliar territory in Detective Stories #2 - Coming September 2nd
And continue Kate and Jason’s stories in Gotham Knights #17 - Coming September 16th
submitted by AdamantAce to DCNext [link] [comments]
2020.08.04 03:07 The_Web_Of_Slime The Great Web of Slime
There is a web of invisible slime that reaches out from the artificial traditions of psychological think tanks, like The Tavistock Institute of Human Relations, whose roots trace back to the Vienna Psychology Club; a web that stretches across the entire world and inserts itself into your lives in intrusive, unethical and corrupt ways. Groups are deceiving you for a dollar, for a vote, for your personal information, for your labor; for your body and soul. This deception is carried out using every screen you look at, every song offered to you, every sign on a billboard, every popular book, magazine and newspaper.
If you want honest information; if you want to see past the slime, you are going to have to look hard for it. If you are just starting down your journey of being cognizant of the deception, the scope is difficult to believe but well borne out by the evidence. We all know the news is dishonest, but the common myth is that it is for the ratings and for the views. The ways in which the news is dishonest is what is really difficult for people to swallow and the “why” still very much in debate until you understand the framework by which they operate.
Systemic corruption is no exception to the march of modernization; more sophisticated than ever and more capable of staying hidden to the average person. Modern day slavers control the narrative and the reason it is a spiritual conflict between good and evil is because there are a very small group of people who believe that stealing your agency/free will/consciousness lends itself to their ability to become gods, in their own right.
Understanding that the elite have deep occult traditions is important, though often scoffed at. However, to advertise their power and influence, occult messages are constantly and publicly advertised back and forth between these groups. It is no theory that think tanks have studied and implemented cult behavior even going so far as to create artificial cults in which to entrap people.
Faceless, emotionless, unempathetic organizations that are merely constructed of words on paper are able to impose these cult tactics on you with impunity and in secrecy. This is the heart of the problem; when it comes to an organization, company, agency, church, etc., these abstract constructs are very much not human, at all. Their existence is alien and unknown to human instincts, who assign human attributes naturally and without conscious thought. These constructs take advantage of normal, honest, empathetic individuals by mimicking empathy, not by actually being empathetic.
There are more slaves, now, than ever in human history and the methods of enslaving are far more insidious than ever. Modern slavery networks and the corrupt political ecosystems that allow them to endure are the heart of mankind’s problems. If we, as a society, were able to address the corruption that keeps these networks alive, then we, as society, would solve a lot of problems surrounding organized crime, in general, not just the problem human trafficking.
How do we do that? It is very simple; “Zero Trust” policies in organizations and 100% government transparency. That’s it. A great deal of time, effort and money are spent making sure these issues never hit the ballot box and are never part of the platform of a candidate you are given the option to vote for. The movies you watch are constantly reminding you of dangers that allow a select group of idiots to maintain secrecy that is undeserved and clearly wielded for uses other than helping society.
Common sense solutions are not prioritized by the media and politicians. Don’t be a part of the destruction of common sense and common courtesy. Stop taking the bait. Stop taking the path of least resistance. We are all guilty, but pushing yourself to be better and do better has a ripple effect in the world around you. Being a terrible person also has a ripple effect. There are enough bad ripples.
The concept of an “epiphany” is an important one; where a person’s mind changes on a physical, neurochemical level to the extent that their world view changes. The moment a person is “red pilled” is an epiphany and it is very much the concern of media and Internet shills and their manipulative overlords because they do not want people to have the realization that the system is corrupt from top to bottom and that both sides of most narratives. But, if you do have that realization, there is a plan for you; to do nothing and sit idly by as corrupt forces continue their work. When you have an epiphany, the neurochemical storm actually is a moment where you are most suggestible and most ready to be manipulated.
If you manage to raise your level of awareness across multiple narratives, the system almost doesn’t need to care about you, anymore, as they have likely already moved you to inaction and made you unwilling to tell others the truth.
While there is a great deal of science that goes behind manipulating people, the tradition is as old as human history, itself; it’s origins, magical from the perspective of the ancients. Whether you call mass manipulation “hypnosis,” “psychology,” “magic” or “science,” the fact of the matter is that it is there in a more constant form than ever, impossible to avoid, and invisible to those who aren’t paying attention or willing to research and think for themselves.
Like the idea of dark matter, you cannot see it directly (at least, when done well), but should be able to test and compare data data in different circumstances to detect it. There are many confirmed real world examples of mass manipulation that people should be aware of, because it is very easy for people to believe that it is not happening to them.
Many say that is too big of a conspiracy to keep secret; though we already see how it works with a variety of leaks, court cases and plenty of proven real world examples. If you encounter this argument, you have probably encountered someone who is hypnotized into misunderstanding the word “conspiracy”, where a group of people work together to commit crimes.
One easy way to create a consensus across media organizations is to enter into “non disparagement agreements.” For example, HBO entered into a non-disparagement agreement with Michael Jackson’s attorneys. A recent court case established that the agreement remains in effect even after his death. This means, with the right law firm, someone can enter into many unknown non disparagement agreements with many companies.
It sounds weird, but this is like black magic. Occult literally means hidden. Secret words have been spelled out that the public is not aware of, but creates the illusion that there is a consensus about any given personality; like say a politician, a singer or an actor. A web of mutual non-disparagement agreements works as a form of forensic interruption, preventing people being held accountable for crimes.
Between non-disclosure agreements and non-disparagement agreements, there is a web of protected relationships where people, products and even governments are not allowed to be discussed in a negative light.
This has created an extortion racket by the media. If you don’t buy in, then you are fair game. Not only are you fair game, they will harass you until you buy in because they literally need something to do due to their lack of ability to speak negatively about their cohorts.
When you consider the nexus between government and media, the problem is compounded when you introduce the concept of keeping things secret for national security. Policy has created the circumstance that corporate and secret government interests are intertwined and they become aligned in keeping each other out of jail.
While a lot of this is managed at upper echelons, the system is merely taking advantage of human nature, which is why the government and media should be operating from a “zero trust” standpoint and not the other way around, like it currently is. There is and never has been any reason to trust the media or the government, and doubly so when their interests are aligned. There are many proven real world examples.
The first ingredient to modern mass hypnosis is saturation and repetition. Your first clue that the message is artificial is when many corporate, government and astroturfing battlegrounds all agree on the same thing.
Not only is a contrived message oft-repeated, it is generally very polarized; where, due to cognitive bias, it is designed for consumption by both sides with the ideal result of making one side feel schadenfreude and the other side feel outrage and injustice. Just being aware of this polarization tactic and allowing yourself to have more nuanced opinions that the black or white ones offered up to you, is incredibly effective at not taking the bait.
“Systems Psychodynamics” is the name of the psychological framework that is used to monitor and control people, primarily based on attacking and reforming “basic assumptions.” By controlling everyone’s basic assumptions using the repetitious push and pulling narratives, the levers of political and monetary behavior are controlled through “influencers.” This framework reads like it was written for social media, though, in reality, it is much older; social media merely enhances the effects.
One easy way to detect the agenda and the widespreadness of the corruption, without even knowing the finer points of mass persuasion techniques, is to see what is censored. Generally, the astroturfing campaigns seek to drown out good information that is contrary to their cause. However, when you find some information that is very damaging to their narrative, especially before they’ve scripted a response, it gets removed. Eventually, they will write up a standard response, but this takes time.
For this reason, I incubate a number of censorship experiments across multiple sites. While people easily get away with discussions about aliens and flat earth, conversations about modern slavery are shut down everywhere; particularly if you call people to action in reporting crimes. Sites that purport to be “free speech” will not allow you to openly hunt human traffickers and the “system” seems to hate vigilantes more than anything.
Most recently, the censorship around Covid “truth” is heaviest. Censorship of doctors has been swift and totalitarian. However, because I see generally what gets censored, first, I knew this was all a scam from Day One. The first SARS COV 2 tests, up until March, were merely SARS COV tests. Very literally. The SARS COV 2 tests hadn’t been invented, yet. Explaining that the body produces the CR3022 protein (what the antibody tests look for) for all human affecting coronaviruses was heavily censored. Even now, explaining this basic fact that exposes why a great deal of testing is fraudulent, is struck from both Right and Left astroturfing machines. If you really want a rabbit hole to dig through, search the coronavirus pandemic bonds that matured March 23, 2020.
Prior to that, the name “Eric Ciaramella” was one of the most censored things on the Internet. Censored, in that the information was deleted immediately. The motivations behind these multi-site censorship campaigns should have everyone concerned because it is consistently in support of Democrat and RINO narratives, politically, and always in favor of human traffickers.
However, even the Q Anon group will censor you with a variety of tactics if you speak of certain things in the wrong way or mention the possibility that they, themselves, are part of an astroturfing outfit. Fox News still won’t give a fair shake to the Uranium One/Skolkovo/Troika Laundromat evidence and it betrays them as controlled opposition/ a limited hangout, since it would destroy the Democrats.
Any “side” of politics you can be on, whether it’s fringe or mainstream or Right or Left, every group has limits to what truthful statements they will tolerate and the nexus where all the groups meet in alignment is when it comes to discussing modern day slavery and who is profiting from it.
Simply removing content is very overt and complaining about it to those who do it will usually earn you a mute or a ban. Running a “brand” across multiple platforms requires conformity to social media company ideologies, or you will be subjected to any and all means of censorship.
Covert means of censorship are also rampant. Upvotes.Club offers a service that not only promotes the content you want, but downvotes topics that run contrary to your marketing strategy. This is one of many astroturfing services. Shadow banning is another tactic that can be difficult to detect. “Deboosting” is common in social platforms, as well, where the number or type of viewers who see your content is limited. This breeds “echo chambers” across multiple Internet communities.
Out of frustration and curiosity, I began experimenting with different ways to engage with the shill communities. Very often, their own tactics work quite well against them. Years into this push and pull with these groups, my best strategy has evolved to monitor them as they often telegraph economic opportunity and subvert them from behind a layer of complexity a shill script can’t understand and is unable to deal with. When I noticed Bitcoin was being heavily shilled, I saw a signal to buy early. This was the catalyst for rethinking everything I was doing.
When I noticed that there was blatant fraud in the media about SARS COV 2, I noticed the exact same behavior I had seen before when I struck it rich with Bitcoin. I even went to my audience and said on a podcast, “the market will be back to normal levels in a month… six tops.” I bought the dip, knowing the numbers were fully overblown. My $TSLA experience has been quite enriching.
Every day, in the stock trading communities, shills are looking to pump and dump stocks and groups are spending money to illegally manipulate the stock market. However, you can use different ways to monitor social media to detect potential pumps and dumps. If you start seeing the same thing show up on different platforms, among different known shill groups, you know someone has paid for a pump and dump. So long as you have a set, small percentage to gain, you can avoid the pitfalls and get out early.
Right now, that is my “edge”, in trading. I don’t feel nearly as obligated to spread the truth to others, since I’ve realigned my priorities. These technological tools for being the first to news items, to new evidence, finding new ways of searching existing information; not only does it help you navigate past censorship, you can use it to make more “realistic” decisions about the world around you.
Politics and the stock market are inextricably linked. To be informed on one, is to be informed on the other. When you begin to pull in more intersecting information, like “systems psychodynamics” and overall agendas of differing groups, you are expanding your knowledge and your consciousness so that your intellect has more of a real world impact.
When you delve deep into ancient traditions, you will, eventually, learn of alchemy; usually the pursuit of endless wealth or the search for immortality. Day trading well is, essentially, modern day alchemy in that you are making money from thin air. Musicians transform what is in their mind into a product that can be sold. There are many forms of alchemy. Bitcoin is another great example of modern day alchemy. In my humble opinion, augmenting your own well-disciplined intellect with good computing practices can make you a modern day wizard; an alchemist.
Many people were saturated with pro-Nihilism marketing and ate it up with their Cheerio's while listening to Nirvana CDs. A couple of generations of nihilists later, combined with portable dopamine trap screens from waking moment 'til slumber, and people are literally having a hard time finding a reason to get out of bed in the morning.
Being a successful trader heals a lot of the damage from that consumerist propaganda and forces people to interact with the natural causes of their decision making.
The Market is not racist. The only color you have to worry about is green. The market does not celebrate your success or mock your failures. The opinions of critics do not count.
The Market does not care about your feelings or anyone else's.
All people enter the Market equal and there are no participation awards. There is no busywork. Your test scores do not matter. All that matters are results and that type of black and white simplicity makes the Market the most sane aspect of society, right now.
Though most of the obvious stocks have since reached preCovid normality, it has been easy to make money by sorting every ticker by Feb 20 high, then subtract the current price, calculate potential gain when they return to their old price and pick ones that had a high probability of doubling or tripling your money the fastest.
I understand it seems tangential, the stock market angle, but when you are routinely called a “conspiracy theorist”, it helps to be as realistic as possible and there is no better way to prove your theories than by putting your money where your mouth is.
The stock market is a vessel from which normal people (”retail investors”) are scammed constantly, for the benefit of institutional investors. The Epsteins, the Soros’, all the political elite; they are playing in this realm and they graduated to using AI and machine learning to augment their schemes years ago. In order to understand the elite, you have to understand their playground.
In order to compete in the information age, you need to augment your intellect using technology. If nothing else, use it to be meticulously organized. If you get organized in only one aspect of your life, make it your finances.
The Democratic party uses the ADA AI, named from Ada Lovelace and a competitor, in 2016, Cambridge Analytica, was used by the Republicans. These AI’s are augmented with databases and metadatabases of everything that can be served up by a social media APIs. They know everything about you and they don’t spy on your microphones, cameras and screenshots to catch you at crimes; they are spying on you in order to better teach you how to vote and spend money.
Combined with an army of astroturfing accounts, these AIs are quite good at manipulating what shows up on your screen. This type of censorship is bad for stock traders, researchers and people who just want a few honest answers.
In order to compete a bit better, I have taken to making by own custom feeds and scrapers, so that I can database text of many sites and subjects, which then is far easier to search, but is also able to sort information so that I can find what I am looking for in a few minutes, as opposed to trawling the same channels or search engines everyday and learning relatively little. I am really on the hunt for stuff that is voted up or noticed organically and is in that stage before it catches on by a shill group. I incorporate a lot of OSINT tools and I like to collect leaked databases to be able to compare information. It is very helpful to use machine learning to detect what I need as quickly as possible and serve it up to me, first.
Applying my own knowledge of how the astroturfing system works, I have developed strategies to target influencers with new and original information and I can quickly and easily get it to them without influencers even knowing I am the source of the information. I just have to identify the correct group to get my message out, then make sure their leaders see the information, who will naturally post it on their own and their followers will naturally vote information up for free. I don’t do this with stocks (questionable legality), but I do feed good news to the right people and I exert a lot less effort to get ideas across all platforms than I used to.
No astroturfing groups are into anti-consumerist ideas. “Hydro Homies” and “No Fap” are two great examples that recommend people be anti-consumerist and avoid specific products. As a result, these movements, despite being healthy and productive, have a lot of trouble gaining traction. There is no mainstream push for a truly healthy agenda. All contrived movements must pay to astroturf and shill because, otherwise, embracing their products and ideas is contrary to your well being. No shill group is working to save you money or trying to convince you to make the right decision, for yourself.
There are certain messages almost no one will add social media velocity to; detailed instructions on how to report crimes or catch pedophiles, leaked information that hurts both sides of the political spectrum, anything a little too technical or complex.
There are already efforts to make hijack the anti-human trafficking crowd. They will be tricked into meaningless pursuits that have no real world consequence. Money will be raised and wasted. News article after news article will be pumped out detailing how everyone is supporting victims and raising awareness. Meanwhile; nobody of consequence is arrested. The mining industry will continue to use forced labor and the networks they use will also feed the sex slavery and domestic servitude and the systemic policies and corrupt politicians will continue on unimpeded.
Let’s hope that changes, but it will require a lot more people getting off their asses and getting involved. It will require a lot more people speaking up outside of their echo chambers.
Ready. Set. Go.
submitted by The_Web_Of_Slime to TopConspiracy [link] [comments]
2020.07.31 18:58 UnfairVanilla7 Update Idea: Heroes from Another World (Justice League update) [Part 2: Existing game-mode improvements and miscellaneous tweaks]
Continued from Part 1, link here: https://www.reddit.com/future_fight/comments/i1dbaz/update_idea_heroes_from_another_world_justice/
Just like the previous post, use the Index to traverse sections of this post
[T.0] Tier-3 advancement: Superman and Darkseid
[A.0] Potential Awakening: Batman and Lex Luthor
[G.0] New Game-Mode Additions and Improvements
|Biometrics:[Combat]x50||Biometrics:[Blast]x50||Biometrics:[Speed]x50||Biometrics:[Universal]x50||100 Crystals||Selector:[X-Gene]x30||3-6* Premium Hero Chest*|
|100,000 gold||Energy x100||100 Crystals||Gear Up Kit x200||100,000 gold||Selector: [Norn Stone] x100||Dimension Chest: 6 Awakened ISO-8*|
|150,000 gold||100 Crystals||Dimension Debris x200||Energy x100||150,000 gold||M'Kraan Shard x100||5 Rank Up ticket*|
|200,000 gold||Energy x100||100 Crystals||200,000 gold||Black Anti-Matter x100||Norn Stone of Chaos x100||Tier-2 Advancement Ticket|
|250,000 gold||100 Crystals||Phoenix Feathers x100||M'Kraan Crystals x100||250,000 gold||Uniform Upgrade Kit x100||Comic Card Chest:Legendary x2|
|300,000 gold||Lvl 5 XP chips x100||150 Crystals||400,000 gold||Lvl 3 Uniform XP chips x25||Clear Ticket x250||Dimension Chest: Odin's Blessing|
|500,000 gold||150 crystals||Lvl 4 Uniform XP chips x20||Clear Ticket x250||500,000 gold||Hidden Ticket x100||1,000,000 gold|
|200 Crystals||Titan Component Pack x150||Dimension Dust x150||Awakening Crystals x100||Mandalay Gem Fragmentsx100||Cosmic Cube Fragments x100||Tier-3 Advancement Ticket|
2020.07.20 15:57 MFA_Nay Hidden web camera price
Came across an interview titled Longtime Reddit GM, Erik Martin, Discusses Managing “The Front Page Of The Internet,” Free Speech And The Time Obama Was Banned From /Politics from KnowYourMeme (KYM) which people might find interesting.
I've provided most the text below, but it's probably easier to read on the KYM site directly than with Reddit formatting.
Q: Hey there, Erik. Thanks for taking the time to sit down with us. Can you kick things off here by introducing yourself a bit and telling us what you’ve been doing lately?
A: Excited to chat with y’all. I guess I’m most known for being an early employee at Reddit and being the General Manager there from 2011 to 2014. Since then, I’ve worked on community and marketing stuff at a few companies, including Depop, WeWork, Airtime, and most recently at Nike. I’m currently the Chief Community Officer at Teal, a relatively new startup that’s focused on helping guide people throughout their careers. I’ve been working hard on that since the fall. I’m also really into church cookbooks from 100-plus years ago, even though I’m not religious and I can’t really cook. Other noteworthy internet stuff would be that I started a project a while back called Assholes on Demand. It’s kinda dormant now, but when it was going, we helped people who weren’t “extremely online” deal with bad customer service issues at enormous banks, cable companies, etc. I was also a videographer and sometimes editor for Improv Everywhere, the hidden camera prank collective that had a lot of viral videos in the early to mid-2000s.
Q: So you obviously have a pretty extensive history with the internet, particularly Reddit, but I’m curious to learn more about your background and some of your earliest experiences with the web. Could you recap how you got your start online and what places you used to frequent?
A: I think my internet background really starts sort of pre-internet with my mom’s old Mac SE. My mom was a graphic designer and had this glorious, ugly, 25-pound black-and-white Mac. Apple called it “portable” at the time because it came with a giant-ass carrying bag and had a handle on top of the display. My uncle was also a Machead and he would bring us stacks of 3.5-inch floppy discs with every kind of pirated video game and software. There were no labels on the discs, no instructions and no reviews or anything. You just put a disc in and tried out all the applications. Sometimes it was a fun game, sometimes it was a drawing tool, sometimes it was a boring business program I didn’t understand, and sometimes it crashed the machine. The really good ones I’d copy and share with friends. Eventually, that beige/grey computer got hooked up to an ancient modem and we got online, but to me, it feels like “the internet” started with those unlabeled disks. I think when I see something new online or I explore some rabbit hole, I’m trying to chase that feeling of being a curious child and loading a new disk of unknown content.
I graduated from college in 1999 and went to go work for a variety of long-defunct startups in North Carolina. It was an exciting time to be an inquisitive and green kid willing to work on anything. I did everything from helping a visual search engine QA [quality assurance] their taxonomy of rugs, to helping a browser companion company write reviews for websites. I had an amateur knowledge of videography and also starting shooting videos of NCAA Division III basketball games for this basketball lifestyle site called HoopsTV that was about 20 years ahead of its time. The dotcom crash happened and all those companies failed. Over time, I picked up more video work, learned to edit videos and worked on a variety of low-budget films. My internet addiction blossomed with things like IRC [Internet Relay Chat], IMDB, webrings, blogs and Fark.
Q: In 2008, you then became Reddit’s first-ever Community Manager. How did this position come about, what did it entail, and what drew you to it?
A: I applied to the very first Y Combinator founders program as a documentary filmmaker. They rejected me, but after that, I was kinda hooked on seeing what happened, so I became a user and fan of Reddit soon after they launched out of that first YC class. At some point, I reached out to the site by sending a cold email to [email protected] or [email protected]. Alexis Ohanian responded and we exchanged emails. At the time, I was doing digital marketing for a film and music company. I think we discussed doing some sort of online Q&A on Reddit with one of the music video directors we were promoting, but I was basically a lurker, still am really. I got to know Alexis, and a few years later when Reddit needed someone to be their representative on the production of weekly current events that were, in theory, going to incorporate an online audience through a Reddit show pilot with a PBS affiliate, they asked if I was interested. The pilot ended, but I got to know the site and team more.
Later that year, Alexis asked me if I wanted to be a community manager. It was hourly and didn’t pay well, but I had enough other freelance gigs that I could make it work. Most of what I did early on was promoting new subreddits or other new Reddit projects and some very basic spam fighting. There was only a tiny team, but Alexis, Steve [Huffman] and all the engineers were all super-active users, so every employee was a community manager. During that time, I also started doing video Ask Me Anything [AMA] interviews. The Reddit community wanted some celebrities to do AMAs but getting someone not familiar with Reddit to devote time to navigating the threaded text comments was a tough sell. So, we got the top 10 questions from the community, recorded the person answering them on video, and posted the YouTube video on our blog. That way, we only needed to get them to commit to 30 minutes of their time. Eventually, Reddit and the AMA format grew to a point where celebrities would take part in the native text AMA with minimal hand-holding or convincing, but the video AMAs helped build that momentum.
Q: During those initial years, what were some of the biggest differences between Reddit then compared to now? Do you think it was easier or more difficult with a smaller userbase?
A: The biggest difference is just size. Reddit doubled in traffic every year until recently. So, each year there was just more and more activity and users and subreddits. Early on it was also mostly links and then self-text posts. It took a while before Imgur and other services made it easy to link pics. I think it was easier. Reddit was always understaffed and the engineers had to work magic to keep the site up, but one could at least be aware of most of the new subreddits, trends and fun organic moments. As time went on, that just became increasingly impossible for users and staff.
We were also this scrappy underdog. Even though Reddit had been around for a while, it was such a bare-bones operation compared to other competitors at the time that users, mods and people we worked with were forgiving. You can’t really be the underdog if you’ve been around for 15 years and you’re big enough to be seen from space.
Q: After a couple of years, you moved up to Reddit’s General Manager and you were often one of the most public faces of the company during that time. Can you briefly describe that role and some of your biggest moments from those years?
A: When I became General Manager it was a weird time, Reddit was still part of Conde Nast, but it was starting a process where it eventually spun out and recapitalized as an independent entity. The role was a catch-all, and I ended up doing whatever Reddit needed. Sometimes it was operations, sometimes community and sometimes sales stuff. Growth in terms of traffic wasn’t ever a problem, but we wanted to keep the site growing in terms of the subreddits and discussions and even formats on Reddit. I focused on promoting subreddits like /IAMA, all the unique “Ask” subreddits like “AskScience” or “AskHistorians,” the sports subreddits, the various fandom subreddits, college subreddits and non-U.S.-centric subreddits.
The biggest moments for me were helping get the local subreddits active. We held a Global Meetup Day, and each year, more and more cities around the world took part. I’ve been to meetups all over the world. Even now, anytime I travel somewhere for the first time, I spend time on the local subreddit and try to learn as much as I can.
A big awareness moment during that was when we were part of the SOPA/PIPA blackout and helped defeat a bill that had enormous support in D.C. It seems quaint from today’s perspective, but it was an important issue, or at least felt like it. We always felt that the press should mention Reddit in the same breath as Twitter, Facebook and other gigantic internet places. That SOPA protest movement felt like the first time when the mainstream media did that. Also in 2012, when Obama was running for reelection, he stopped by Reddit for an AMA. We’d been working up to a POTUS AMA for years, and it was incredible to see that happen. The thought terrified me that news would leak and people would have time to figure out ways to cause mischief, or worse, but it worked out and the small team of engineers did amazing work to keep the site from completely buckling under the onslaught of traffic and attention.
Some of the biggest challenges were growth-related. As Reddit grew, the work the mods had to do got more and more overwhelming. By 2012, you had moderators who were doing their best to moderate subreddits that were bigger than all of Reddit was just two years ago. They were creative, resourceful and came up with ways to use CSS and automod tools, but it was a hard and thankless job even in smaller, relatively tranquil subreddits. We had a lean team, to put it mildly. When I left, we had around 70 employees, which seemed like a lot to me, but in hindsight, it was nothing compared to other, similar companies. We were all spread thin and juggling a lot. Who knows, I’m sure the alternative universe where we had more staff and resources would have come with its own additional problems, but when I think back about that time, it’s all a bit of a sleep-deprived blur.
Q: During your time as GM, you were sometimes asked about the site’s position on free speech. In 2011 during an AMA, a Redditor asked about your stance on certain controversial subreddits and you said, “We're a free speech site with very few exceptions and having to stomach occasional troll reddit like picsofdeadkids or morally questionable reddits like jailbait are part of the price of free speech on a site like this.” Can you elaborate on your answer more and speak to that time period of the site?
A: I wish I could unsay that. Even back then, saying “Free speech” was a lazy and bad answer. I was trying to describe a generally hands-off approach but didn’t even do that well. It’s a metaphor or bumper-sticker phrase that isn’t useful. If we were making blithe comparisons to the Bill of Rights, then Freedom of Assembly might have been a better framework than always talking about speech and content. Still, it’s wrong. I think what I and many people at Reddit believed was that as much control and decision-making should be in the hands of the subreddit mods and individual users. Not all control, but as much as possible. I don’t think we felt absolutist about it, but I think, at the time, we felt inertia, and we feared to make decisions -- we didn’t prioritize making them, or at least I felt that way. The whole point of Reddit was that the users would decide what was “on the front page,” not the editors or people working at the company. That worked! But then as the site and other infrastructure grew, the infrastructure around who gets to create a subreddit, for what purpose and how to grow the global rules thoughtfully didn’t keep up.
Q: Since that topic is something so commonly debated when discussing Reddit, what are your personal opinions on online freedom of speech? Have those opinions changed over time since then?
A: I still believe that as much control and decision-making as possible should be in the hands of the subreddit mods and individual users, and I think that’s why Reddit is still relevant and growing 15 years after Alexis and Steve started it. That doesn’t mean there has to be some hideous “price” or that there shouldn’t be thoughtful and dynamic rules. The organization and humans running Reddit can still be accountable without needing complete control. Again, I think content and speech is not a relevant framework anymore. I think behavior, impact, scale and speed are all more useful ways to discuss the topic than talking about speech.
Q: Was that something the founders or admins also pushed while you worked at Reddit, or was it an issue that you personally clashed with others at the company over?
A: People disagreed, but I don’t remember philosophical clashes. It was more pragmatic. People disagreed about the degrees, priorities and the best way to approach updating rules and moderation. There was always a tension between things like the role of improving tools and more improving human moderation, but it wasn’t ideological that I remember.
Q: What's the weirdest or most interesting thing you dealt with during your time at Reddit? Got any good stories from over the years?
A: So many wonderful stories. I really was fortunate to experience so many unreal stories, big and small. The first one that comes to mind is when Obama’s post got banned from /politics. So, everyone knows that Obama did an AMA, but most people didn’t know or forgot that he also posted a message on election day. He posted a brief message to the politics subreddit encouraging people to get out and vote “no matter your political persuasion,” and it had a link to look up your polling place. When the AMA happened, we had advance notice and all that, but we didn’t know about the election day message until I got a phone call from one of the campaign people asking, “Do you know why POTUS got banned?” “Uhhh, let me look into that.” Apparently, one or more of the mods felt that the nature of the post broke one of the subreddit rules, so they banned it. I sent a message to the mods politely asking if they could reconsider or even make a sitting head of state exception for some minor rules infraction. They discussed it and eventually unbanned the post. Simpler times. You can complain about Reddit mods all you want, but you can’t say they’re afraid to ban a sitting president’s posts.
Another thing that comes to mind is a minor snafu that happened when I went to record a video AMA with Noam Chomsky. I videotaped Chomsky answering the top questions from Reddit in his office. I thought it would look good to have Reddit open on a monitor in the shot, so I set up my laptop in the background behind him. I forgot that I had whatever “word of the day” screensaver came installed on the laptop turned on. So about 10 minutes into the interview, my screensaver comes on and I realize, in horror, that people watching the video will think the laptop is Chomsky’s and that the founder of cognitive science uses some super basic, vocabulary-builder screensaver. He was on a roll, so I didn’t have the heart to stop the interview or apologize afterward. Fortunately, the words were like “conformity” and “impoverished” and so simple that when we published the video, people realized it must be a joke or some default factory setting.
Q: So then in late 2014 you stepped down as GM without a huge plan as to what you wanted to do next with your career. Could you tell us more about what led you to walk away from Reddit after you’d been so heavily involved since it started?
A: In hindsight, I was burned out. I hadn’t been taking care of myself and felt ragged. It also felt like a good time to move on. Reddit had just raised a fresh round of funding. Also, I got married earlier in the year, so it just felt like the right time professionally and personally to do something new. I felt like if I didn’t leave when there was a moment, then Reddit would define me. Like if I stayed much longer, I wouldn’t be able to function anywhere else. I recently moved from NYC after living there for the last 12 years or so. It was a similar feeling. I love NYC and I love Reddit, but there was this underlying feeling of “if I don’t leave now, I never will.”
I didn’t know what the next thing was, but I knew I wanted to work with a different community and company. I ended up helping Depop launch in the U.S. I was excited about the experience of working for a non-U.S. company and marketplace, both unfamiliar things for me. Where Reddit’s userbase skewed male, Depop’s userbase skewed female. I believed that the basics of running and growing a community-based company and brand were still the same, no matter what the community was, and I wanted to explore that.
Q: What are your thoughts on some of the controversial decisions in recent years regarding Reddit’s policy changes, ban waves and other moves that many argued went against the free speech roots of the site? Do you think some of that fallout is justified, or are these individuals missing something?
A: I haven’t followed everything closely, but I’m all for the changes. They should have happened sooner, but it’s easier to say that on the outside as a normal citizen. I’m sure there was some backlash but also seemed like a lot of users and mods supported the decisions.
Q: So taking all of this history into consideration alongside your own experience working with Reddit, how do you think these changes will impact the site’s future? Where do you see it in the next five or 10 years?
A: I think the change is good. I don’t have many predictions or insights … I mean, Reddit is too big to look at the entire picture, at least for me. I try to focus on the long-standing and brand new subreddits. The Formula1 subreddit recently posted about reaching 1 million subscribers and how they grew the subreddit over the past 12 years. As long as existing communities on Reddit can keep thriving while new subreddits can emerge and grow, like /LiminalSpace, then Reddit will keep trucking, keep mutating and be healthy.
Q: Aside from Reddit, lots of other social media platforms have also been seeing some major shifts in terms of policy changes, censorship and things of that nature in recent months. Can you speak to social media as a whole and what you think the future holds for the industry?
A: I think there’s been a failure of imagination and experimentation. In the grand scheme of things, we’re still in the early days of social media platforms. There needs to be more experimentation and less calcification. Dealing with the unique scale and speed of large platforms is hard, but there are solutions and frameworks with more creativity that can help, and the users of these platforms want to help contribute. For example, back in 2010 or so, Reddit tried a feature to combat spam called Jury Duty. A small group of users would be randomly selected to review a specific potential spam post, and they would vote if it was spam or not. The system didn’t solve the spam issue for a few reasons, but the basic premise worked. Users, and not just the ones who are normally the most vocal or extreme, were willing to do some “work” to improve their community if it was easy to take part. Users have already come up with shared solutions like that organically across all the platforms, but the platforms need to prioritize those types of experiments and systems more.
submitted by MFA_Nay to TheoryOfReddit [link] [comments]
2020.07.09 06:48 Justwonderinif Hidden price web camera
People already stopping by and asking about opening date. We decided on Monday, March 14, day before my birthday.
I buy sign letters from Commander Board. Also deposit another $1,000.00 from the investments account. Exhibit 6.
I pay Mark Gilbert for Dozier work around premises and deposit another $700.00 in the checking account. The source of this money was a milling machine I sold out of my shop in February. Exhibit 7.
PANIC! Jeff and Cheryl had begin to show signs of losing interest. There was a load of stuff to get done. They encouraged me to go ahead and that is exactly what I did. Only about 5 days before opening day. Tables were built, Mark Gilbert called to help cleanup grounds, posts to put up, chains to stretch, loose stuff on building, garbage still everywhere, tarps to nail and block down, and the whole week freezing and raining. Jeff was rarely seen on weekends these days, and Cheryl and the kids and I finished what was left of the cleanup. Meanwhile Jeff criticizing, this ain't right that don't suit him, this ain't no good, that ain't where it ortta' be.
Buy swing at Lowes so customers will have a sit down place. Two days left to open. For the week of March 5 thru 12 I was pretty much on my own for finishing the extensive list of "to do's"
Day before opening. Last pre-opening order from Deb's nursery. Jeff is in a good mood. We bring ALL container stock over to the shop on Sunday evening in pouring rain, storm and wind. Tornadoes are blowing around Bibb County and weather sirens blowing.
Opening day. I deposit another $1,200.00 from my (not the joint) investment account. $600.00 cash out (pay cash for first orders of tender plants in case new suppliers don't trust a new checking account. Exhibit 8. Deposited 2 days later on Wednesday.
By March 14 my total investment in this business including monies loaned to Cheryl, and cash paid to Deb's nursery, Arvell, Joe, Gray, and others was $9,350.00. By March 14 morning Jeff and Cheryl (my combined 66% parents) had coughed up: 00.00. I had already been paying Cheryl cash for the water, phone, and light bill. Furthermore the sweet promises of payment of the $1,000.00 loan had begun to occur less frequently. On March 14, Cheryl brought by (around lunchtime 50.00 in change for the box. Over the next week she would add the following: [Twin Roll Paper Towels $1.00, Clock $10, Battery for clock $3, two small garbage bins $8, bottle of glue $1, two pair scissors $10, round of drinks for machine $35.]
Including the 50.00 in change this brought her total investment in this business to about $118.00 between the end of December until closing day on May 16. Many suggestions were contributed (Such as how I needed to buy concrete statuary, etc), but not one penny more was contributed. No sign of the $1,000.00 either.
Between the end of December and closing day Jeff contributed a paint brush, some stiff wire, some small sheetrock screws, and I would estimate his expenditures to be about $20.00. Also contributed was much complaining, griping, hot air, and cigarette butts. I have difficulty in accurately appraising the exact value of these items. There was to be no more financial contribution by the two of them for the rest of the period the business was open.
I paid for every single item used in that business from December 30 to May 16 down to the office supplies, bank drawer, pens, paper, light bulb, telephone wire, paper towels, cups, pots, pans, hoses, soap, outlet covers, breakers, wire, all lumber down to the last nail, even to the roll of toilet paper hanging on the stop.
First stock of tender bedding plants arrives. Exhibit 11 shows payment. Another batch arrives the next day on Thursday.
Another $300.00 deposited. This time the source was books sold out of my shop.
Another thousand dollars deposited as a result of tools sold out of my shop once again.
One of Cheryl's friends goes over to Jim Norman's and buys out his old, mostly dead, and diseased plant stock. Furthermore they plant the choice pieces, and want to bring over the garbage and dump it off onto me to sell at whatever price for them. This material constituted a plant pest/disease problem and I wasn't about to risk several thousand dollars stock to be contaminated by this material. They were also remodeling Cheryl's kitchen, and she was afraid they were not going to finish the job if I couldn't be pressured into taking this stuff.
Jeff and I go over to look at the crap. He is in agreement. Later on they call me over to the house to discuss it, and Jeff is going hog wild, towering over Cheryl asking "Whaddya think baby tell 'im what you think?!" Meanwhile Cheryl is sitting on a small stool near the floor with tears streaming down her face. Jeff is going into full swing, I am inching my way to the door. Jeff starts hollering at me to get my ass back there, meanwhile leaving room to holler and cuss back at Cheryl, and I make out with some comment like "if they are going to act like that I wish I was out of it especially since I paid for everything anyways."
To top it off, it is going to freeze, and I had to bring the rest of the plants in by myself. Later me and Mary Grace go over and stash plants indoors and vacuum. No sign of Jeff or Cheryl.
Jeff comes over to lecture me on how "we equal partners in dis here and don't you fergit it." Also I heard a lecture on how "this here place is costin' me money every day," (although he hadn't put a cent into it hardly), also a lecture on how he ran a group of forty sheetrock hangers and how this place was "stressin" him and how it wouldn't be worth the stress if it was making a thousand dollars a day. Also much blowing of cigarette smoke in my face, thumping of cigarette butts, Jeff seemed to think a place just wasn't right unless a pile of cigarette butts was laying everywhere. He seemed to enjoy coming over and thumping them out on the grounds, and scowling at me when I stopped to pick them up. After a few weeks the parking lot of Woodstock Garden was beginning to look more like the Green Lantern. I received a finishing lecture from the "equal partner" about how he could "rent this here out or sell this here," at which I offered to take him up on. He didn't seem to like having his bluff called (I had the money and he knew it), and flew into a fit until a customer came in and spent about an hour talking about how her Richard Wright house was falling apart. This seemed to cheer Jeff up.
Jeff comes over usually after work in variable moods sometimes cheerful and other times scowly. At other times he has started drinking his beer out styrofoam cups on the garden center porch and thumping out his cigarette butts. April 15 has come and gone, and when I gently inquired of Cheryl about the 1,000.00 I was informed that "that money is already gone." In this same month I was informed about how Jeff had bought a thousand dollar prom dress for his daughter and wasn't going to let her wear it; another time I was told that Cheryl's sister had been knocked up by a 16 year old boy and how they were going to have to contribute $600.00 to get her married off, another time I was warned to lock up the money because Cheryl's brother was on crystal meth and had been arrested 4 times this month. Meanwhile they have a huge row one Saturday morning with Arvell Kornegay's grandson and daughter. The whole situation for this time was like a nonstop showing of Jerry Springer.
Cheryl informed me that I was going to just have to work my thousand dollars out of the business, and sat me down one afternoon for a rethink of the finances. Throughout this time they seemed to enjoy coming over and bragging about how they were spending a thousand dollars here or there... another time it was for a thousand dollar beauty walk dress.
I reluctantly place the potting soil order with BWI. This was the purpose of my last check deposited. Exhibit 15. I say reluctant because by this time you never knew what was going on from day to day. When it arrived Jeff wanted to know "What's all this shit doing out here?" His exact choice of words.
This is the day of our "rethinking financing" discussion with Cheryl. Sunday. Since I had over ten thousand in by now, and Cheryl and Jeff wanted to quickly make back their 2000 they had already paid Johnnie Faye, she wanted me to start writing checks to herself and myself as a factor of four to one. Her first check was 250.00. I subsequently removed a thousand dollars from the account for myself. Check number 139. Exhibit 16 is Cheryls cleared check.
The same situation. 2200 for me, 550 for Cheryl. Her and Jeff were in an extra cross mood on this night (Mother's day Sunday), Exhibit 17. Jeff and Cheryl by this time are constantly criticizing everything. Cheryl comes over to rearrange the merchandise after closing. Nothing suits Jeff, everything is overstocked/understocked, needs to be put here, or over there. Suggestions keep coming about what I need to be stocking instead, but still not a cent more spent by either one.
Cheryl comes over at lunch, and tells me one of her friends wants to install a little ice cream stand on the garden shop grounds. She wants me to know that whatever objections I have are irrelevant because so far I have been running the show and they have had no input in the business whatsoever. I bite my tongue about no money whatsoever, and assure her I have no objections, and she seems encouraged, cheers up, describes the space required, and informs me that they will be settling up Friday after hours.
Friday comes and goes, no ice cream stand in sight. Not one on Saturday or Sunday either. A stack of beer cans has been deposited by Jeff in a cooler out behind the building however. Not well hidden, mind you, in plain view where a customer could pop up the lid and view the remaining coors light cans. They decided they wanted to work the weekend shift, so I only came over for an hour or so those two days and after closing Sunday evening.
Sunday Evening. Since we owed ALA TAX about 500.00 and had orders on the way, we did not write checks to ourselves this evening. This week had not been as busy as Mother's Day week. Cheryl remarked the low stock, so I prepared orders for Monday at home that evening. Cheryl was in a good mood while we went over sales slips, the baby playing on the countertop. There was also only about 800 in checking with about 6 or 7 hundred dollars in the drawer.
Cheryl comes in at noon telling me we are understocked. I place the orders I had prepared the previous evening. Jeff comes in at about three complaining that we are overstocked, and I call back and reduce the orders while he is sprawled out on the potting soil bags. He is doing the beer in a styrofoam and cigarette thumping thing again today, complaining about how his head feels like it is about to bust.• In another telling of the same day, John writes:
I ask what happened with the ice cream stand, he just looks at me like I am some sort of idiot. He spends most of the day on the bags of soil with his sunglasses on (doing his Corey Hart impersonation) blowing smoke and thumping butts out the door. I made the grave error of cleaning up some of the King's butts which seemed to set him further into his attitude problem. I had to go over and let the lawnmower man in and out of the fence so Kristy worked for about an hour and a half. By closing time Jeff was fully loaded.
Jeff came in that Monday, loading up on Coors Lite, attitude problem painted on and sunglasses in place, piled up on the bags of potting soil (doing the Corey Hart thing), glaring from side to side, blowing smoke, thumping cigarette butts, and complaining about how his head felt like ti was going to bust.• Boozer Downs says that Jeff was pacing angrily around John while John called out latin plant names, to taunt him; John writes:
He wanted "some kinda check," and I explained to him that there was only about 800 in checking, Ala tax was due, and orders were coming in. Also the week after Mother's Day had not sold nearly as much as the previous week.
I thought he had cooled off, but by closing time, he had an audience on the porch and made a big deal out of telling me that "I hope you ain't gonna try to slip outta here tonight without leaving me some kinda check." He followed me to the truck like some school bully after a kid's lunch money and proceeded to tell me loudly (in order to impress his audience) about how this place was "stressing" him, how it wouldn't be worth it if it was making a thousand dollars a day, and he was ready to close it tonight, and was he and Cheryl were going to dictate to me what was to be done about my investment.
I went straight to City Hall and told Cheryl that I was being kicked out, I wanted my thousand dollars back, and I wanted Boozer Downs as a witness.
After meeting, all three of us met in the garden center office, but Jeff wanted to go out on the porch so he could put on a big show and impress the Kornegays. It worked. Their light went on before Jeff finished screaming, hollering, turning red, spittle flying, beer can jiggling in right hand... a perfect Jerry Springer Moment.
Boozer and I left.
I asked Billie Hudson to perform a bank scan, and asked Bob and Jackie Neff to help me clean out. Cheryl came over at lunch apologetically, and by afternoon Jeff's sister Shelly and a friend came by with a video camera to cause trouble. Jackie called the cops. Before Cheryl got there Jim Normal had driven by twice, Billie Daily had drove up and rocked on the porch, Anne Kornegay's driveway was as busy as a Wal Mart parking lot the day before Christmas, even her sister from Tuscaloosa had driven up to set in the swing and watch the festivities.
Cheryl had told me that we have until tomorrow (Wednesday) to get everything out, but by (Tuesday) afternoon, had changed her mind because "Jeff was acting crazy and she didn't know what he might do next."
By [this] morning, Cheryl wanted 250.00 which I left with Donna Brothers. When Cheryl picked up the last dollar she was obviously ever going to get out of me, her attitude assumed that of Jeff's. She began moaning, and complaining about how was a pansy, pussy, pantywaist, etc. and having a fit over me actually getting everything out.
Meanwhile, merchandise began to disappear from the premises. Cheryl told me that they had given a pallet away to one of their friends (Mark Gilbert), and the rest must have been stolen. A police report was filed.
I was continuously put off until Saturday about picking up the rest of my stuff. I counted bags, and it turns out the bag count was accurate. They had hidden the remainder of palletized stock behind their house. This was the most effort they had put forth in weeks. Cheryl acted surprised that the only pallet missing was the one given away. The police report filed shows the material recovered on Friday, May 20th, but it was not discovered "not missing" until Saturday, May 21.
I never received the rest of my merchandise because Cheryl said that I didn't know what it was like to have to go home and live with and listen to Jeff. So I got out quietly. She promised to mail all of my paperwork to me, but April 15th of [the following] year came and went without a sign of it.
I have had no communication with Cheryl since that Saturday morning. [May 21]. They attempted to re-open the next season, and presumably sold the merchandise. Currently the premises are for sale still bearing the material I bought and paid for and is still on site.
I heard from John B McLemore of Woodstock, Alabama for the first time somewhere around 2010, maybe, something like that, or 2009. He sent me e-mails, and they were interesting e-mails. You know, they were obviously from somebody who was a fairly erudite person who was interested in the things I’d been writing about in The Long Emergency. We had this correspondence and then he started calling me.
He was a particularly interesting guy. First of all he had this very flamboyant mode of presentation. You know, he was like a character out of Tennessee Williams meets Bizarro World. You know, he was flamboyantly Southern and he sort of played up on it. And I enjoyed talking to him.
...We would mostly talk at first about world issues and economic issues and markets and commodities and oil and natural gas and, you know, all this stuff that I was writing about. But eventually he started talking to me about the town itself that he was living in and how he called it “Shit Town.” And how everything in it was busted, rusted, shot up, broken, deformed, messed up, ruined. You know, in some way that everything including the human personalities and families and relations in the town were all in some kind of terrible condition. And it all seemed kind of emblematic of the ruined condition of the fly over heartland of America that ended up voting for Trump, right?
In the fall of 2013, three spaniel puppies were dumped in my yard. I had them fixed, and they have been with us ever since. That's how you get dogs around here: they just suddenly appear.
2020.06.23 15:14 josiebecomesdecent Hidden web camera price
Hello again! Sorry I am so late, I had many games I played last month and finals meant a little time to review them. This is my second month chronicling my game completion, and this month was mainly time for some platformers! I finished The Messenger, Murder by Numbers, and Bastion and had an old Super Mario Bros. warpless/coinless playthrough using Nintendo Switch Online. Keep in mind, any game that is above a C- is good, B- is great, and A-ranks are reserved for GOTY contenders. This is coming out very late because I have been busy with my education, and also writing semi-deep introspection about four games is much harder than I anticipated.
|April||VA-11 HALL-A: Cyberpunk Bartender Action||Sukeban Games||B-|
|May||Super Mario Bros.||Nintendo||C-|
|May||The Messenger||Sabotage Studio||B+|
|May||Murder by Numbers||Mediatonic||C|
2020.06.07 18:00 Buzzo2020 Hidden web camera price
The four of us sat in a back corner of the Crimson Club finishing our drinks. The place was empty but for us, a few old men at the bar, and a couple guys playing pool. It was an hour before closing and energies were waning as we sat in numbed silence while Frank regaled us with yet another tale of sexual conquest. It was hard to pretend interest anymore and I was just waiting for someone to suggest calling it a night, rather than breaking the seal myself.
Frank waved his phone in front of us.
"Look at her! Go ahead and tell me you wouldn't step over your own goddamn mothers for a piece of that!"
Some of us laughed half-heartedly. Travis let out a sigh.
"Let's bring it down a notch or two, Frank."
Frank looked at him cock-eyed for a moment. Then he waved his phone in front of us again.
"C'mon guys, look at that ass! I bet if you get a good rhythm going, she could bounce you right through the ceiling!"
That got a more lively laugh out of us, Travis included, but as our laughter faded, we started to get quiet again. Frank's eyelids began to flutter as he scrolled through his phone. I yawned, then Travis yawned.
Barry finally spoke up and I was hopeful for a moment I could return home to the cozy confines of my warm bed, but those hopes were dashed when he eagerly started in on a new topic of conversation.
"I miss the way it was before smartphones. Remember how much harder it was to see that kind of thing? I don't know, I guess I miss the work that went into it. The chase, the anticipation. Everything today is just so instant.
"Can you imagine if we had smartphones back in school? Fucking Snap? These kids coming up today have it all at their fingertips, access to everything with no regulations, no - "
Frank interrupted him.
"These little fuckers don't know how good they have it."
Travis looked at him.
"Well I'm not sure if it's a good thing that it's easier for kids to see each other naked now."
"I'm sure they think it's good."
We all laughed. Barry continued.
"You can have anything you want now. You don't even have to go out and seek it, just stay online. Press a button and we'll bring it to you and lay it at your goddamn feet."
Barry's bitterness was getting the best of him. I threw him a softball.
"Do you miss landlines, and curly cords, and not having caller id?"
We laughed. Barry motioned to the bartender, signalling we were ready for another round.
Travis added in a faux-thoughtful tone.
"The ol' landlines did have their benefits though. Remember how fun prank calls were?"
Frank nearly burst out of his seat.
"Remember when I called Patrick's mom and told her I was a security guard at the mall and I caught Patrick stealing?! I can't believe she fell for it! She was fucking bawling, man! I actually felt kind of bad for her afterwards."
He and Travis snickered.
Then I reminded Frank about the time he pretended to be his own dad, called the school to excuse himself from classes, and had to yell at the principal."
Barry, with furrowed brow:
"I don't remember that."
"That's because you were pussy-whipped at the time."
I filled him in.
"Alright, so we skipped classes one day and a few of us hung out at Frank's because his parents were out of town. Frank couldn't miss any more classes or he would fail the term, so he called the school, said he was his dad and that 'Frank' couldn't make it to classes; he was sick with fever. Well, the secretary was on to him and she put the principal on the phone and said to tell him.
"So Frank told him what he told her and the principal said 'yeah right, nice try Frank, I'll be calling the real Mr. Taylor later this afternoon and having a nice talk with him,' then he hung up.
"So we all kind of looked at each other in panic for a moment, then Frank doubled down, called the principal back and proceeded to loudly claim he was, in fact, the real Mr. Taylor, and tore a strip off him in the process. The principal immediately started to apologize, but Frank continued to go off on him. There were lots of How dare yous? and Where do you get offs? - the principal was shitting all over himself by the end. It was glorious."
Our drinks were served as the story ended. Barry was banging the table, howling with laughter as the old men looked on with disapproval.
"To shenanigans with friends, and our memories thereof - may we never forget them."
The two guys playing pool had finished their game. One went to the bar to have a drink with the old men and I noticed the other one was approaching us.
I recognized him. His name was Alan, and he was not part of our extended group, as he was quite a few years older than us. But we knew him from around town. He was a known addict and thief who had done time in prison but had since reformed, supposedly. He had been listening to our conversation and it looked like he had something to add.
"Hey guys, I was listening to your stories. Sounds like you share some great memories together. Are you from the area?"
"Yeah, we all grew up in the Bay."
Alan extended his hand.
"Me too. Deacon Street. Down by the old mine."
We each shook his hand in turn, introducing ourselves and pretending we didn't know who he was.
"You reminded me of my own story from back when I was a kid growing up around here. It's kind of long, but it's definitely a strange one, if you want to hear it."
We all looked at each other. Travis shrugged.
"Alright man, let's hear it."
So Alan pulled up a chair, sat down, and began.
"There used to be a corner-store where Vernon's Pizza is now. You guys wouldn't remember but it was called Fleabag's. Well it was actually called Judie's, but we all knew it as Fleabag's. This was back in ninety-three, so I would have been ten years old. The store only lasted for a few months. I know it was summer when they first opened and by the time winter came, the place was gone.
"The owner's name was Henry. I never learned his last name but the store was named after his dead mother. Henry was a small man with a large head and thick glasses and he always wore a battered Expos cap that was too small to fit his head and merely sat atop it. He was constantly smoking a fat cigar that stank out the whole place, and he liked to stare.
"They sold the usual stuff that corner stores sold back then - mostly candy and cheap, disposable toys, as well as baseball cards and comic books. Of course, they had the staples as well - but the place was always dark and cramped and smelled moldy. The inventory was pretty scattered too, with a lot of the food items expired. I once saw a box of corn flakes there that was out of date by almost two years.
"I never saw any fleas, though.
"Most people in the neighborhood avoided the place but my friends and I went there all the time. Not for the cap guns or the wrestling magazines or the five-cent honeymoons, no - we went for what was down in the basement.
"There were five or six arcade cabinets down there, a couple pinball machines, a pool table the teenagers used, and some VHS rentals. It was pretty dingy, but it was almost like a clubhouse for us. A small pocket of paradise. Except when the teenagers were around.
"We all used to meet there in the mornings with whatever change our parents had given us and when we were done we would play baseball or go down the reef. Then after supper we would meet there again with our second helpings of quarters. But that's usually when the teenagers would be there hogging the machines.
"This one teenager, Dino, was the worst. He was always stealing our quarters and our candy - the asshole even made my friend eat a salamander once.
"I wouldn't let bullies like Dino ruin my summer though. I just started being more cautious. I still went to the basement at Judie's everyday to play arcade games and look at the movies.
"The movie selection was small, and mostly Horror. They may have had a few Van Damme movies and other randoms peppered in but, again, mostly Horror. Looking back, that's pretty weird, but as a kid like me who loved horror movies, it could only be great.
"So I eventually convinced my dad to sign us up for a membership - then I could rent movies everyday for the rest of the summer. The store was only a few streets over. I don't think I was ever more content than I was during that brief time of my life.
"I loved looking at the cover art for the movies. And some of those VHS boxes were huge. Of course, most of us had no internet then and the only information you could get about the movie was by studying the cover or reading the synopsis on back. There were usually screen grabs on back as well. Some of the covers were pretty over the top, and I guess they had to be since that was the only way to sell the movie to potential renters. But, almost always, a badass cover meant a dull movie. Usually the cover had barely anything to do with what was shown on screen. Sometimes you found something interesting though.
"It didn't take long for Henry to realize I was a huge horror buff and he started making recommendations. Most were R-rated and he didn't even call to check with my parents like the videostore on twelvth street did. He let me rent whatever I wanted. My parents didn't care anyway. But they weren't horror fans and I don't think it would have occured to them back then how extreme some of the movies were. They saw Horror as a kids genre. But what kids movie would include a scene which shows a woman giving birth to a full grown man in all its bloody details, or a group of joyriding teens chasing down a little boy and running him over, popping his head like a goddamn watermelon?
"I was only ten and renting movies like Bloodsucking Freaks regularly. You guys ever see that one? There's a scene where a man drills a hole through a woman's skull, places a straw in the hole, then sucks out her 'brain-juice.' Watching it years later, it's pretty silly. Demented, but silly. But back then, it felt like I was watching something truly evil.
"Another that stuck out was Superstition. Hard to forget that one. A head in a microwave, a priest killed by a possessed circular saw, and a giant witch that lived in a pond. Oh, and it's the first movie I saw where everyone died. I thought there were rules against that kind of thing or something."
"Spoilers!" Barry shouted. We laughed but Alan continued on as if he hadn't heard anything.
"So I kept renting movies that Henry would recommend. I watched dozens of horror titles that summer but I can't remember most of them. It's hazy. They kept getting more and more gory though, that's for sure. And at a certain point it became more disturbing than fun. They stopped being cartoony and started becoming more grim and serious.
"I remember these awful scenes like a woman getting her nipple bisected by a killer with a Donald Duck voice, cannibals turning a guy's ribcage into a grill, a woman getting crotched with a giant fishhook...
"You know, stuff like that."
We were starting to get uncomfortable but Alan kept going.
"Eventually, I ran through most of the horror titles. Then Henry gave me a history lesson on SOV movies. He didn't call them that but he told me all about the video revolution and how people were getting their own cameras and shooting their own movies on video. It was a gold rush, he said.
"Many production companies did sprung up overnight during the eighties/early nineties video boom. And many folded after releasing only a couple movies. VCRs had reached peak popularity and the prices were much more affordable than years prior, so there was this explosion of amauteur moviemakers trying to make it in the business, and God knows what kind of shit is still out there undiscovered.
"Horror has always been what sells, so, naturally, this was the dominant genre in the SOV market. But talent is always rare.
"Henry soon told me about his son, Arthur. Apparently, Arthur got involved in the SOV business himself and produced his own horror movie. Henry pointed to a portrait on the wall behind him of a younger version of himself.
" "That's my boy Arthur. He always wanted to make movies, even before he was your age - but he only got to make one. He died before he could make another. The dumbass was hit by a truck.
" "I bought him a super 8 camera when he was just a kid and he used to make these torture pits in the backyard with his GI Joes and he would film it. He would spend hours and hours out there mimicking their screams and making the sound effects. Sometimes he would burn them when he was done. That kid cost me a fortune on toys." "
"I stared at the portrait on the wall. He was identical to Henry. The only things missing were the Expos cap and the cigar.
"Then Henry handed me a VHS tape that he seemingly pulled out of nowhere. It was called Tales of the Macabre. The cover had this crudely drawn, laughing skull-face spanning the horizon of a blood-red sky, and blood was raining down on the terrified citizenry of a suburban landscape, causing them to melt into puddles of gore. It was an awesome cover, very primitive but alive. It looked like the cover of a death metal album. It wasn't kept on display with the other movies, because I definitely would have remembered it.
"Henry hyped it.
" "This is the movie Arthur made. It's the only copy in existence. The kid may have been dumb but he had an eye for cinema. He was a true artist. Watch it tonight and let me know what you think. Don't let your parents see this one though - we'll both get in trouble." "
"Well that sold me. So I rented the movie, bought a bag of honeymoons and two bottles of pop, and headed home.
"I noticed a dirty white Oldsmobile that passed me a few times on my walk but I didn't think too much of it at the time.
"When I arrived home, my mom was on the step waiting for me. She was still paranoid about a missing boy a few towns over and wanted me in before dark. I didn't tell her about the Oldsmobile.
"When I got inside, I called my friend Brian to invite him over for the night. He lived a few doors down and was there soon after. We went to my room and played video games for a while and filled ourselves with sugar. Later, Mom brought us pizza for a late supper and then it was time watch Tales of the Macabre. Somehow, Brian was asleep before it was even done rewinding. I didn't mind. I liked watching horror movies alone.
"I did make sure to draw a penis on his forehead, though.
"The movie began with low, ominous music over a black screen. This went on for about two minutes before the music abruptly stopped and we jumped into the first scene, cold. There were no opening credits or title cards.
"The scene opened at a little league baseball field, mid-game. Everything was filmed from a distance. It was uneventful at first. There were a few minutes of the game, there was some typical baseball chatter, and then we saw a cheap-looking fireball fly across the sky and crash into the woods behind the outfield. The players and spectators watched in confusion for a couple minutes before all these little alien creatures started pouring out of the woods.
"They were the traditional big-eyed aliens everyone's familiar with. But there were so many of them. I mean, there were thousands of them. I don't know how Arthur could have afforded so many extras. And they were obviously all kids wearing alien costumes, judging by their small size.
"So everyone was, apparently, put in a trance or something, because they all just stayed still as the aliens were entering the field. The aliens then began herding people back towards the woods, players and spectators alike. No one resisted, they all went along like zombies.
"We then cut to another shot within the crowd being led through the woods. We followed them as they came to a cheap looking, but very large, cardboard space-ship in a clearing - a tradional saucer shaped one. They began loading people onboard. Everyone was still zombie-like as they shuffled in.
"Then we cut to a shot of a saucer rising into the sky. It was very cheap-looking. You could see the strings. Then we saw another saucer rise. And another. After that the screen abruptly went black for a moment and the low ominous music began again - briefly - before we moved on to the next segment.
"It was an animated segment! It was just like the cover: a giant laughing skull spanned the horizon of a blood-red sky as blood rained down on people, and they ran this way and that in utter panic and chaos. They melted screaming and clutching each other, turning into piles of smoking red goop, the images flashing across my screen in a quick edit of gore and carnage. Like I said, the animation was pretty crude, but the pure ambition of it was impressive.
"As a kid, I thought it was the best thing ever.
"Like the previous segment, this one had almost no dialogue. Nor much of a plot. Just a succession of apocalyptic imagery matching the cover. Eventually, in addition to the acid-blood-rain, these giant monsters started coming out of the sky and bursting out of the ground and tearing people apart before devouring them.
"The editing became so quick, I was unable to focus on the images as they flew by in quick succession, eventually reaching a climax and freeze-framing on a partcularly nasty scene of a huge seven-headed beast, big as a mountain, trampling a crowded city-street, each of its seven mouths overflowing with chewed up people. There was a weird bible quote about the end-times super-imposed over the image.
"But then the scene was suddenly interrupted by this white noise visual, like it was recorded over. This lasted a few seconds before we cut to a prowling night-time shot outside a house. The camera slowly approached a window and I could hear the cameraman's breathing. When the cameraman got to the window, there was a woman in a kitchen preparing food while holding a telephone receiver between her shoulder and chin.
"This movie was all over the place. The tonal changes between segments was jarring and there appeared to be no common theme.
"When the cameraman got to the window, there was a woman in a kitchen preparing food while holding a telephone receiver between her shoulder and chin. He lingered briefly before moving on to the next window.
"There were three boys, about my age, playing video games in one of their bedrooms. The camaraman's breathing rate was increasing, along with my own. Even then, I knew this segment wasn't a real movie. This was something else.
"The woman from the kitchen entered the bedroom with a pizza and the camera jerked away violently; the cameraman's breathing becoming sickeningly loud at this point. His panic was palpable. The camera briefly displayed a wooded area located at the edge of a big backyard. They seemed to be in a pretty isolated location.
"After a moment, the cameraman regained his composure and we returned to the boys. They had turned off the video games and were eating pizza now. Well, two of them were. The other one was trying to eat his slice but the others wouldn't let him. They kept pushing him away and laughing. Then the two boys put their pizzas down and began further antagonizing the other. I couldn't hear what they were saying, I could only hear the cameraman's labored breathing. But they were obviously bullying him by his demeanor and theirs.
"Suddenly, they pounced on the other boy, held him down, and ripped his shirt off as he struggled madly. One of them produced two skipping ropes from a backpack and their faces darkened as the other boy cowered and pleaded. The cameraman was in a frenzy by this time. I had to turn the volume down, his breathing was so loud.
"The two boys began whipping the other with their skipping ropes. Slowly at first, one at a time, but soon they were out of control. The victim was hugging the wall, trying to disappear, as they unleashed their juvenile aggression all over him, his back becoming a crimson canvas.
"He was begging mercy but trying to appear as if he was having fun. It was confusing and heartbreaking. He was trying to smile and appear game but the tears ran channels in his cheeks.
"It was too authentic. I felt like I shouldn't be watching.
"They finally wore themselves out. The camera remained fixed on them as they lay on the floor in exhaustion, but within a couple minutes they were back up and behaving as if the skipping rope incident had never happened.
"The boy who had just been whipped mercilessly began hooking up a VCR to the TV as the other two watched him. They must have been bullying him in his own home. He was in visible agony and moved slowly, his hands untangling the wires with great care. When he was done, one of the aggressors fished a videotape from his backpack and handed it to him.
"The boy put the tape in the VCR. It was a top-loader, just like my grandmother used to have. The screen snowed briefly before turning to black and the low ominous music began. The same music from earlier. The scene cut abruptly before I could see what, exactly, they were watching.
"My heart skipped a beat.
"The camera perspective had changed to a static shot from behind the TV, facing the kids. Like a hidden camera. They all had confused expressions but their faces were glued to the screen.
"It was the window behind them that had caused my sudden shock.
"There was a man in the window and he was smiling a ghastly smile at the camera, and thus myself. It was Henry's son, Arthur. It was unmistakeable.
"He didn't take his eyes off me as he slooowly slid the window up, mugging for the camera the boys were unaware of.
"I instinctively spun around and looked out my window. Nothing was there.
"My window also faced the backyard and was situated almost exactly like the one in the movie. I turned back to the screen.
"Arthur lifted his brows high and opened his eyes wide in mock concern as he continued sliding the window up. His mouth made an O shape as the window went higher, before returning to that hideous grin. He seemed to be really enjoying it. His eyes remained fixed on me the whole time.
"The boys remained focused on the TV; their faces by this time were contorted into horrified expressions, but their eyes remained locked, unable to look away.
"The window was finally open wide. Arthur began to enter. He started to slide one of his little legs into the room as the boys continued to gaze at the screen in trancelike horror, unaware of the danger behind them.
"I spun around again.
"And there he was.
"The window was already open and Arthur was slowly sliding one of his little legs through the threshold and into my bedroom as he grinned at me in a wild-eyed frenzy.
"I tried to scream but nothing came out. My whole body locked up and I couldn't move for a moment. Arthur continued his creeping advance, his grin becoming unnaturally wide.
"I finally snapped out of it and rushed to Brian and began shaking him, crying for help as my voice returned. I couldn't bear to turn around.
"My parents burst into the room within seconds, before Brian was even fully awake.
"Arthur was gone.
"I tried to explain what happened but I was so worked up, I could barely get the words out. Once my dad heard it was about the video I rented, he immediately shut the whole situation down. He called Brian's parents to come get him and immediately banned me from horror movies for the rest of the year. Both my parents thought I had just scared myself with an overdose of Horror and wouldn't hear me out further. They wouldn't even call the police.
"My dad returned the tape to the videostore the next day. I begged him to watch it but he refused. Even years later, whenever I bring it up, he brushes it off and says it was just a movie. My mom doesn't like to talk about it, but I think she believes me now.
"And I don't think Brian ever believed me. We didn't hang out much after that. In fact, within a few months of that night, we had stopped talking altogether. Even I started to doubt myself, eventually."
Alan stopped and took a long drink. We all did the same before we fell silent for a moment.
Alan seemed relieved, like he had kept the story to himself for far too long. He needed to unburden and we were the perfect excuse. Travis looked at him.
"So what happened to the movie? Did you ever rent it again?"
Alan looked off into the distance as he spoke.
"No. I told my friends about it, of course, but when they tried to rent it, it wasn't there. Everyone thought I just scared myself. I wasn't allowed to rent movies there anymore, and I avoided the place altogether, for fear of Henry and his twisted son.
"Like I said, the place closed up shop by winter. Who knows where they ended up? I always wondered how the movie ended though. What happened to those boys?"
"Why don't you just Google it?"
Alan cocked an eyebrow at him before continuing.
"Well - back in the late nineties, when I discovered the web, I began looking for the movie. There was no information on it, and no one seemed to have heard of it on the any of the horror message boards. I kept checking periodically but without luck. I eventually stopped looking altogether."
We returned to silence for a moment. I wondered if Alan was being truthful. He had appeared genuinely upset while telling the story. Barry spoke up.
"Are you fucking with us?"
We laughed. Alan smiled and shook his head.
"I'm afraid not."
Alan got up.
"Well guys, I better head out then. It was nice meeting you. I hope you all have a good night. And get home safe, eh."
I extended my hand to Alan again.
"You too, man. See you around."
Travis slapped him on the back.
"Fucked up story, my man. You're right though, that was definitely a weird one. Take care."
Alan grinned and walked away. He met his friend over at the bar for a final drink as the old men began putting their jackets on.
Frank laughed dismissively.
"He's full of shit. You guys believe that?"
Barry thought of something and piped up.
"Hey Frank, remember that time you found your dad's VHS porn stash and invited pretty much everyone in the neighborhood over to watch?"
"Yeah! Remember the murder-mystery one? It was like a porn version of Clue - I think it was called The Butler Did It."
Barry and Frank were falling over themselves with laughter. Travis let out a deep sigh. Alan and his friend looked over at us.
I took a long last drink of my beer, gazing up as I did so, the ceiling fans slowly making their way to a stand-still. It was almost time to leave. Almost time. My warm bed was beckoning as I sat there melting into the chair, in the wee hours, in a back corner of the Crimson Club.
submitted by Buzzo2020 to nosleep [link] [comments]
2020.05.31 03:12 hainamtelecom Hidden web camera price
| 5 questions as well as solutions about Xiaomi router to fix the internet troubles I think every family members has a router After getting in the age of fiber optics, the rate of home network has likewise been substantially improved, however there may be some difficulties in the day-to-day use procedure, such as the choice of network mode, Router, Hub và Switch network rate instability, and so forth. Today, I will certainly take the router Xiaomi 3 as an instance, making use of the question-and-answer setting to resolve some typical problems in day-to-day usage.|
router hub switch
If the telecoms gadget is directing, after that your router can be set up in two ways: 1. the gain access to setting is selected for vibrant IP (DHCP), to establish the portal to a various area from the host. 2. Switch off the router's DHCP function as well as attach all the network cords to the LAN port. The router works as a button currently.
submitted by hainamtelecom to u/hainamtelecom [link] [comments]
2020.05.23 06:24 pipestein Pimax 5K XR review and thoughts compared with the Rift S and Valve Index.
I posted this in the Elite Dangerous VR forums and figured I would post it here as well for people that are trying to figure out what VR setup to get. Fair warning this is going to be a wall of text.
TLDR - If you are tech savvy the Pimax is very much worth your time. with some fair warning about customer service. If you just want plug and play stick with the Oculus or Index.
I got into VR on ED with the Oculus Rift S. and it blew me away. that being said there were several things about the Rift that bothered me to the point that I retired my HMD. The view in the headset is abysmal it is like looking through a straw. added to that is the LCD display that washes the color out. The colors were not bad by any means, however, they were not vibrant. added to that I had the very annoying problem of lens fogging. The face seal is so tight that my lenses would fog up pretty quickly whenever I used the HMD. The biggest downside of the Rift in my opinion is that it is a closed ecosystem. by this I mean that first and formost you cannot upgrade any aspect of the Rift setup by using Index tracking solutions or competitive HMD's. this also means that your hardware is not useable with other manufacturers setup including Oculus's own hardware solutions. The Oculus store does not easily support non Oculus hardware in a plug and play manner. You can get around this issue with software solutions but it defeats the very easy plug and play nature of the rift ecosystem. The upsides of the Oculus Rift S are numerous. It truly is plug and play. you connect the HMD throw some AA batteries in the Oculus Touch controllers, install the Oculus software, and you are good to go. On top of that the PC specs needed for the Rift are fairly light weight. You can run it on any fairly recent PC build from the last five years or so. Another plus in the Rifts favor is some very good inside out tracking. no need for lighthouses this makes the Rift more than portable. The inside out tracking also has the advantage of being more than accurate enough for any use, the only time this fails is when you reach the controller behind your back and the Rift cameras loose sight of the Touch controller. The Rift is a great entry level VR setup and I would recommend it to anyone looking to get into VR for the first time or anyone that is not technically proficient with doing configuration on PC hardware and software. if you don't want to spend the cash for an Index then Rift is the way to go. I would rate it a solid C+ which as I said places it into the entry level of VR hardware.
My experience with the Index is limited I have tried out my buddies setup and I did like it. It is a good step up from the Oculus. the hardware is premium. It does improve on some of the shortcomings of the Rift. The LCD displays of the index in my opinion had a better resolution as well as improved color saturation. The FOV while not great is superior to the Rift in every way. Steam VR is an open platform meaning anyone is free to enter. If you own a Rift, an Odyssey, Vive, Index, Pimax, etc you can use the device with both the store front and VR interface. makeing it possible to avoid multiple purchases of the same game. This makes the Index a far more user friendly and upgradeable VR solution. The Index knuckle controllers, oh lordy, the index knuckles. They are hands down worlds better than the Oculus Touch and Vive controllers. the use of them is well thought out and intuitive to a ridiculous degree. the squeeze grips are great in games like Walking Dead Saints and Sinners, Alyx, etc. Instead of holding a trigger to grip your weapon you squeeze the controller just like you would a sword or gun, I personally love this. the fact that they grip to your hand and remain in playing position rather than hanging from a strap around your wrist alone make these far better than both Vive and Rift controllers. Add to that that they do not require AA batteries and instead charge off USB and this makes the knuckles a real next gen step up. There are down sides to the knuckles as well. The placement of the touch pads on them is bad. the pad is in between the buttons and the thumb sticks. this means that the thumb sticks can be a bit awkward to reach. it takes some moving the controllers around on you hand to get the sticks at a comfortable angle. the touch pad and the thumb sticks honestly should switch positions on the controller interface, that would makes these about perfect. The index also uses the lighthouse system for tracking which means that you have one or more laser tracking boxes mounted somewhere in the room. while this makes the tracking for the index absolutely spot on you do not have the simple portability of the Rift experience. for many this will be a con. Also with lighthouses comes one more point of failure. these devices will not last forever and will eventually have mechanical issues and need to be replaced entirely, keep this in mind as it very well may become a hidden cost of owning the Index setup. All in all Valve have put out a very good setup that I am not affraid to recommend to the plug and play crowd that has a little more cheddar at hand for the higher price tag of the Index. I would rate the Index kit a solid B overall.
The Pimax. I have had the HMD with Valve controllers and lighthouses now for a week and have been loving life. I will start this out with the bad. If you pay any attention to the Pimax sub reddit you will already know the horror stories about not only the kickstarter backer experience but also dealing with customer support. I will state this up front, the sub reddit is about 20% accurate. This was my experience. I ordered the 5K XR kit on 4/20/20. I did not hear a word other than my order number for the next two weeks. the web site stated that the kit was in stock and that shipping was immediate from Amazon. I placed my order and got an email with my order number, after that it was radio silence. I heard nothing for the next two weeks about when the order would ship, if the order had shipped, if there were issues with the order, nothing. Now for me this was worrying because I dropped $1200 dollars US on the kit and this is a significant investment for me. If I had gotten anything after the order number saying allow x weeks for delivery or expect this amount of time for turn around I would have been fine. like I said the web site states immediate shipping, their words not mine, and with an obvious lack of communication I began to worry. I placed two support tickets asking how long it might take to begin the shipping process. I did two tickets because the first was never answered. after two weeks without word and I placed a third ticket asking that my order be cancelled and that I be issued a refund. it was at this point that I was finally contacted by support. in the back and forth that followed I pointed out that the web site said it was immediate shipping and that the HMD was in stock as well as the index kit. the person who answered the ticket looked into it for me and I was issued tracking numbers the very next day. the entire kit shipped a couple of days after that. I find it sad that I had to request a refund in order to get an answer from customer service. That being said after that my experience improved dramatically. once the kit was shipped it took two weeks for it to arrive. with that disclaimer out of the way on to the kit.
I am going to start with the cons on this setup. The Pimax kit does not have the same quality of materials that the Index or even Rift S are constructed from. The plastic of the HMD is not as heavy duty as either of the other two setups mentioned. I understand why this is however. The headset is HUGE the wide field of view (170 degrees horizontally, 200 degrees diagonally) means that the dual screens in the HMD take up a large amount of real estate. because of this I am sure they used a lighter plastic housing to offset what the weight might have been otherwise. Because of this there have been many complaints of the housing cracking on early release builds of the Pimax HMD. This is an issue they are addressing with the new 8K lines by rubber coating the plastic housing of the HMD. the 5K series however is not included in this. that means that you need to take some care with your handling of the HMD itself. Another downside that results from the wide FOV is that the Pimax screens are canted to the sides in order to facilitate the wide angle FOV which the Pimax enjoys. (I originally stated this was to save space but Jotoku pointed out that I was incorrect in this assumption and I have edited this post to reflect that. Thanks Jotoku for pointing my mistake out.) The rift uses only one LCD screen which makes the head set much smaller, while the Index does have a canted screen the lenses are not as large as those on the Pimax (I had assumed the index only contained one screen, however Cultural_Elevator pointed out to me that the index has a canted screen which means it is a dual screen HMD rather than a single screen. Thank you for pointing this out to me Cultural_Elevator.) This also means that at the outer edges of the FOV on both the Rift there is no distortion. How th Index handles this issue I cannot say for certain but in my use I never saw such distortion. this is not the case with the Pimax. with canted screens you introduce distortion at the edges of the FOV because the screens are angled and the software that controls the displays needs to compensate so that the image aligns properly. Many users especially those using older versions of Pitool (the Pimax control software) experience a notable degree of warping at the edges of the display on the left an right. this has not been my experience, I believe that Pitool has been improved to the point that I have not been able to notice any warping. The next thing that many people will consider to be a con is that the 5K XR uses OLED screens which mean that we reintroduce SDE (Screen Door Effect) into the image. a lot of people hate this and find it distracting. that being said... The 5K XR when properly configured in both Pitool and user settings for your software reduces the SDE to a significant degree so significant that I find it almost unnoticeable. It is there but nothing like the early days with the CV1 and og Vive.
The Pimax is also not plug and play in the sense that the Index or Rift are. Once you get the hardware running you need to run Pitool. This is going to be your launching platform for both Oculus and Index homes and software. While the Rift and index take care of 90% of your configuration behind the scenes the Pimax is 100% controlled by the end user. For many people this will be an issue. If you do not take the time to explore and play with the video and hardware settings in Both Pitool and whatever game you are playing you will not get a decent display. That means that it will take a decent amount of experimentation to find the settings that work for you. this also means that software and hardware settings are not one size fits all. you will have to do this for each and every game that you run through the Pimax HMD. Once you find settings that work however you are done, the Pitool software saves your settings on an individual bases for each program that you run through Pitool. Personally I find this to be a bonus as I can tailor my display to my personal tastes and I enjoy playing with hardware and software settings, but I'm stupid that way. I understand why a lot of people might find this frustrating.
What a lot of people will consider as another con is the 82mhz refresh rate of the OLED display on the 5K XR. I personally have no issues with it and do not notice the blurring that can happen with head movement in the lower refresh rate. that is me though, a lot of other people will and do notice this. the index has a higher refresh rate of 90mhz which can be upped to 120mhz, the rift is locked at 80mhz. this is really in the eye of the beholder as to whether this is a con or not, for some it will be a big one. For others it is not really an issue so your mileage may very.
The next con is the head strap. it is pretty much the same as the og Vive. a velcro stretchy thing with no padding that grips at the back of your head an pulls the HMD onto your face with much of the weight on your forehead and front forward portion of your skull. I have not had a problem with this but I will get into why that is at the end of this paragraph. the head strap has no padding and a lot of folks report that the HMD gets very uncomfortable after long sessions in VR especially as mentioned at the top of the head and on the forehead. this strap is really the weakest part of the HMD in my opinion especially for a product with a price tag as high as that of the Pimax. before I bought the kit I did a little research on this and found a couple of solutions that people have put forward. the fist and most difficult solution is the use of the Vive DAS head strap. the strap is a halo design that also includes an audio solution with head phones built in. there are a few things that make this solution difficult. the first is that the strap is not designed for the Pimax. While it will work it takes either using Tape, velcro, or 3D printed adapters to attach the DAS to the Pimax HMD. Once this is done though the community pretty much agrees that this makes the Pimax supremely comfortable. The second problem is that for a long time Vive had discontinued the DAS and was not producing any more new units. that meant that it could only be found in the used aftermarket often times at inflated prices. That has recently changed and Vive is now producing the DAS once again but it seems to usually be sold out which means that you are still relegated to resorting to the used and inflated aftermarket in order to find one. There is however a second solution that I recommend. It is both easy and affordable. I do not work for this company but do use the product and recommend it highly. Studioform Creative makes a padded strap add on for use with the Pimax, it is both very comfortable and more importantly cheap. It shifts where the weight of the HMD is placed on the head and adds padding to increase comfort and it is easy to install. Using this strap I have had no discomfort whatsoever in spite of hours long sessions using the Pimax HMD. I highly recommend it as an alternative to the Vive DAS. The best part is that rather than giving your money to some super corporation you are instead giving it to a small company making a great product at a reasonable price based in New Zealand, I'm down for that. The strap can be found at.
Now on to the Pros of the Pimax. The 5K XR is an OLED display while I mentioned this as a possible con because of SDE it is also an overwhelming Pro. the OLED display is worlds above LCD in the display of color and the level of blacks. The colors on this HMD are true color which means that unlike the washed out LCD display of my Rift the OLEDs in the Pimax are vibrant and rich. I can not overstate how this fact makes the Pimax experience a for more immersive and rich experience. Colors are bright and they pop off the screen. Along with that you get true and deep blacks. if you have used nothing other than an LCD display you may not understand this. LCDs are back lit which means that rather than a true deep black you are instead getting a very dark grey. OLEDs are not back lit they actually switch pixels on and off which means that you get real blacks and true darks. Until you experience this you will have no idea how much of a difference it can make in the overall immersive experience. At the same time these screens are a hi res alternative in a low res world. The Index and rift are decent but they are no means a hi res screen. once you get your software and hardware settings dialed in on Pitool the display is hands down the best resolution of any HMD on the market today. there is no competition whatsoever. between true color deep blacks and hi res displays the OLEDs of the 5K XR make this hands down the best VR experience that I have had to this day bar none and is worth every penny paid.
The FOV, oh dear lord the FOV. the first time I got my settings dialed in and resolution tweaked and hopped into ED I just about crapped myself. The FOV of the Pimax is a game changer for me. While the FOV of the Rift and Index is like looking through a straw, the FOV of the Pimax is almost but not quite equal to walking out your front door and seeing the world in real life. I seriously will never consider going back to a more narrow FOV. this is the huge selling point of the Pimax and a good enough reason to put up with a lot of crap. between the FOV, and OLED colors and blacks there is no reason in my opinion to use another headset, the drawbacks in no way outweigh the pluses in my opinion. And I am including the 5K + in this opinion. Oled is the way to go in my opinion even with the SDE. All in all I rate the Pimax a solid A as far as the HMD market goes. that being said the Customer service experience is without a doubt a full on D.
submitted by pipestein to Pimax [link] [comments]
2020.04.24 20:13 shanabailey Products that I did NOT add to database today (24.4.2020)
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