72in to feet

FEEDBACK NEEDED
​
The people out there
See me as fragile and scared
I am an ant on the surface to them
So I better stay hidden
For ones like me are forbidden
In this aristocratic land
This can’t be the end
I blast my music
Just to bring me some solace
Now the question pounds my head
As I sit on the stairs
“Will you ever win?”
I runaway, runaway
Into the tall grass of wonderland
I runaway, I runaway
Until my feet hurt from running
​
FEEDBACK: https://www.reddit.com/OCPoetry/comments/zunzy6/between\_a\_memory\_and\_a\_fantasy/j1l64qw/?utm\_source=share&utm\_medium=ios\_app&utm\_name=iossmf&context=3 https://www.reddit.com/OCPoetry/comments/zumqdj/the\_hotel\_room/j1l664b/?utm\_source=share&utm\_medium=ios\_app&utm\_name=iossmf&context=3

As you turn away from me I wonder;
Do you care for me or not?
Either way I’ll end up six feet under,
Without the attention from you that I deeply crave
My stride will quickly slow
So deep within my thoughts it’s easiest to give in to my assumptions and anxiety
What do you want from me?
Thinking of you is like swimming in a pond flowing with gag-worthy debris:
As I have always known that it could never be
Wherever I look there is simply more of the same.
I look for your face in the clouds and I ask:
Why can’t I forget the way you looked at me?
Deep down I always knew it could never be
I always knew that
It could never be
.
https://www.reddit.com/OCPoetry/comments/13w6nhi/broken_shields_empty_promises/jmcolp4/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=ioscss&utm_content=1&utm_term=1&context=3
https://www.reddit.com/OCPoetry/comments/13w2skb/a_scent/jmcpqyo/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=ioscss&utm_content=1&utm_term=1&context=3
Also, this is one of the first pieces that I have written so please don’t be surprised if there are any extremely unconventional phrases. Any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!

Its telling me to go to the marshes at the land keepers office and ive found three boxes and put them by the log by the building and in different spots but nothing is happening, driving me crazy. The song for me is- "If you wish to leave this land heed my words and hear my song, you must rise to the task at hand you must walk the path most long, to the west your wings must fly to the place only I have known, for that is where my chambers lie halls now empty and alone, venture there and head southbound where your wayward paths shall meet, where trees and dirt paths can be found where grass is fresh beneath your feet, near a building on this land there lies a log where you must be, three possessions must now leave your hand the choice is yours but must be three, unite this act and its location to show to you the final station, heed my song and find the place that will reveal infinite space"

Hey so maybe this has nothing to do with Hackintosh, but I've noticed that when using a Logitech wireless M705 mouse, I get like... 3 feet of range before it starts dropping out. It's super, duper annoying. I just bought a Logitech MX Master 3S thinking that newer hardware would work better, but even that has just a few feet of range. What's curious is that using this stuff in Windows gives excellent range.
All of my USB ports are configured correctly, and I've tried on various USB ports, such as directly to motherboard, or case header, or USB hub with the same issues.
Does anyone else have this problem? Anyone have any good recommendations for a wireless mouse? I really don't like the Apple Magic Mouse, and the Apple trackpad gives me wrist cramps. Thanks in advance.

Started taking 25mg Sertaline for about 3 weeks now. Deff the first week felt out of it, but this is my 3 week and this morning after taking my medication Im feeling slightly off. Sweating feet, elevated heart rate, and just feeling out of it in general. Normal? Just cant wait to feel this final feeling of relief like everyone seems to find :(

Hello there, I’m a 21F USA 160 lb 5’5. only dx I have is fibromyalgia and depression, I take 20mg duloxetine to treat both.
2 days ago, I fell from about 3 feet up (almost 1 meter) and was not able to catch myself with my knees or hands so I landed sort of on my right side. I experienced pain in my shoulder immediately but the next day when I woke up (yesterday) the pain went from about a 4/10 to 6/10. It seems to not be getting any better.
It hurts specifically whenever my arm is at rest to my side, as well as lifting it. I can only lift my arm about halfway before the pain becomes unbearable. When I showered I was struggling to wash my hair because it was so painful. The pain also does not allow me to bend my head all the way down. In that case, the pain is in the back of my neck. All other pain is in the collarbone/shoulder area.
I am worried about a possible hairline collarbone fracture, but to my knowledge that sort of fracture doesn’t really limit mobility? I am really weird about going to the doctor in person so I appreciate any help. If anyone suspects a fracture then I will definitely go. If not, is it just part of being sore after having a fall like that? Sorry for the long read

Cruise Themes
You just can't have a lifestyle cruise without having a theme for each night! Let your imagination run wild when planning your costumes. It is not required that you dress in theme but it can add some extra fun to the evening!
SUNDAY Let's Get Lei'd (Hawaiian Shirt Night) - Show off your best Hawaiian shirt and get ready to get lei'd! Feeling a little more adventurous? You can never go wrong with a grass skirt and coconut bra. Prepare to be whisked away to paradise as we set sail on our first night!
MONDAY Officer & a Gentleman (Formal Night) - Who can forget that famous movie scene where he sweeps her off her feet and they walk into the sunset?? Gentlemen, tonight's your night to sweep your lady off her feet with our Officer and a Gentleman formal night. Be a sharp dressed man in a Naval officer's uniform or stick with the traditonal tuxeo. Ladies, dress to impress in a gown or cockail dress.
TUESDAY Glow Night - This poolside party passenger favorite brings out the "Glow" in all of us. Dance the night away under the stars and light up the night with all things glowing, blinking and flashing. Dress in neon outfits, glow body paint, etc!
WEDNESDAY Prehistoric Party - People thought cavemen were extinct, but not tonight!! Take the journey to prehistoric times. Dress in leopard patterns, animal fur outfits, bone jewelry and wild hair. Or, think the Flintstones and you'll be on the right track for this theme night.
THURSDAY Day of the Dead / Fetish Night - In honor of our day in Cozumel, our theme night will be the Day of the Dead which is a colorful and joyful celebration of life—both past and present. The dress code will be artistic representations of skulls and skeletons with decorative flowers and sombreros. If skulls and skeletons are not your thing, then tonight also serves as our Fetish night so get kinky!
FRIDAY Metallic Magnetism - Do you like to Shimmer, Shine or Sparkle? If so, show us your magnetic attitude in something metallic. For our last night, dress in metallic gold, silver or bronze.

I think the recent discussions about modern controls and now the WiFi indicator have highlighted a change in this subreddit.
I joined about 5 months ago and being part of this community was a huge and overwhelmingly positive experience in my fighting game journey.
Even when i hit my lowest point in frustration and wrote a giant (and in hindsight dumb) rant about ranked in SF5, this subreddit offered mostly help and encouragement and helped me to get back up on my feet and back into the fight. Thanks again.
But lately there has been a shift here.
Where i once enjoyed mostly objective discussions with arguements being exchanged the discussions in this subreddit have boiled up to a point where people get straight up toxic and start lashing out at each other and throwing out insults.
Let's take the modern discussion shortly abbreviated: either you are an old fart refusing change for just raising concerns about balancing or people where degenerates for using brain dead zombie control schemes.
Let's face it, while the community growing is a great thing, something growing mainstream attracts a more casual crowd and it's not always the most pleasant to deal with people joining in.
I am not saying anyone is less smart for playing casually. But a niche, - dare i say slightly nerdy - genre on general attracts brighter people than a more casual triple A mainstream game and we habe clearly seen this today. And i fought the modern discussion was the low point.
And while i think we are entering a golden age for fighting games and i feel privileged for experiencing it at the dawn we should also be ready fore some minor downsides.
Just today i saw people get insulted for A: using WiFi B: taking their time to explain the problems WiFi can cause and encouraging people to go wired if possible.
And yes i admit i got hotheaded in that discussion as well, so this is also me reflecting on that.
Discussions get heated and sometimes we have bad days and shit gets under our skins, happens to the best of us. As long as spirits cool down again and people even apologize if they overreacted it's all good.
I am bipolar, trust me while i have my mood swings generally under control they still do happen and i am also a little hotheaded by nature, i know what i'm talking about. I've been cringing about my own posts a few hours later simetimes.
All good, that happens we are all just humans.
I want to welcome and embrace all the new players but if someone with 5 posts does add nothing but your mom jokes to a discussion, give them a fair warning and if they keep that behaviour up, level 3 them out of this sub.
I don't exactly know if i would be the right person for the job, as i mentioned i am prone to have mood swings because of my mental condition on the other hand i am working in customer support and tech support dealing with angry people professionally on a daily basis. So if people are needed for this i am willing to give it a try.

but what if you are the Game now what? what happens at the end of it all? death?
either way that's a yes. so then what is death?
as the body becomes still in a process like taking a nap, where does Consciousness go?
through a number of states before deep sleep. if you were to describe deep sleep what would you say it's like?
maybe a blank because you have a lapse in memory. but this lapse in memory show up as a blank. what recognizes this as something familiar relative to deep sleep? surely there's a subtle recognition
maybe it's imagined and we call it a blank. but then where's the distinction between that and ordinary imagination? ordinary like dreams or even this. Daydreams
maybe this is all Conscious Day Dreaming and there never really is a night. what would that feel like do you wonder?
sincerely,
🤭
~

Be strong then, and enter into
your own body;
there you have a solid place
for your feet.
Think about it carefully!
Don’t go off somewhere else!
Kabir says this: just throw
away all thoughts of
imaginary things,
and stand firm in that which
you are.

• Kabir

I am wanting to make a powerful spell that an archmage will have that could be used against the players.
I want it to be powerful, but I don’t want it to be game breaking.
I am unsure if I should make this an 8th level spell or 9th. My current spell is:
“In a 120 foot cone, each creature must make a strength saving throw or take —— force damage and be pushed 20 feet back on a failure, and half damage and not pushed back on a success.”
I’m not sure how many damage dice to use for this or what type. I am tempted to change the damage to bludgeoning or slashing to allow more damage dice because the common chance of resistance. The only reason this spell is a high level is because I want it to be a massive damaging spell. To compare with meteor swarms 40d6.
Please help me make this not OP.

Soooo, we have an Xfinity line that has been pulled down and is trapping us all in our parking lot. Service is still good (thank god) but the line is hovering about 2 feet off the ground and no one can get their cars in or out of the lot.
Does anyone know if there is any way to locally contact Xfinity? The agents I can reach won't commit to any timeframe and said they will give me a call within 24 hours to let me know the plans ... until then we are all pretty well stuck here.

Male, 22, 6ft 220 lbs
​
I am unable to post a photo/video. However, I was just wondering what is the reason my feet turn from a red hue to a pale white when I press my finger against it. I wish I could post a video because I am genuinely concerned.
Extra info: I can almost draw like a whiteboard, I know it has to do with blood flow probably. I was just looking for a better diagnosis before I contact a doctor.

I've been dialing in my AP technique and I've seen some great results – thanks to this community no less! I've only actively started AP'ing since around 4 weeks and I've come close to the vibrational stage many times. Also I've partially left my body twice.
Today was the day where I – presumably – exited my body entirely. Presumably because everything did feel a little dreamlike.
I need some opinion on what I experienced:
This morning I tried using one of Robert Petersons methods (Book: Hacking the Out of Body Experience) combined with the "The illusion of method". I tried holding on to hypnagogic hallucinations while also manifesting an AP.
At first I fell asleep again, but a couple of minutes later I awoke, the audible hallucinations. Random gibberish I couldn't understand. But I knew: This is my chance, if I wait, I'll get to the vibrational stage soon. Up to this point I always passed through the vibrations because I was way too excited and either woke up or they passed without anything happening.
This time I waited until they peaked and to avoid partial detachment, like the times before, I rolled out this time. And it worked! I still wasn't able to see though, but I knew what I had to do. I couldn't get up (it's hard gaining control over your body, hope this gets easier), so I rolled out of bed. I landed almost floated on the floor softly, which confirmed to me that this was not my physical body.
I somehow managed to get up on my feet and stumbled to the door. I blindly searched for the door handle and I felt my hand going through it. I stumbled through the door right into our hallway. Going through the door made me see a little. I managed to go into the bathroom and saw myself in the mirror. It showed me a version of my NOT overweight self (I'm a little chonky in reality). I thought I noticed some entity behind me but didn't pay much attention, because I didn't sense any danger.
I left the bathroom and noticed everything looked a little different too. I still had a hard time seeing but the details in our apartment didn't match up with reality. I continued into the living room area and there I saw my wife. Motionless, not noticing me or reacting to me. I also had the sense, that there were two other entities but I didn't bother with them either.
Still not being able to see that well, I ran through a couple of walls, it made it a little easier, but it wasn't what I am used to from my physical self.
That was kinda the moment when the reality of me APing hit me and I got overexcited. So excited in fact, that I decided to head back to my body. I feared that this excitement would turn into intrusive thoughts very quickly and I didn't want my first time to end like that. So I ran through the walls back into our sleeping room and body slammed (please don't ask me why I chose that method) into myself. That was also the exact moment my alarm rang and I was awake at an instant.
There are a couple of things that make me this it was a LD and not an AP: - The details about the appartment being off - My wife being in the living room (she was actually at work during that time) - Looking in the mirror and seeing thin version of myself
The last two also reflect my desires. For one I of course would love to be thinner and when my wife left the house this morning I thought it might be better if she stayed at home today because she wasn't feeling too good.
What do you think? LD or AP?
If it was an LD: How do I get out next time? If it was an AP: Why the weird stuff?

Summary: A demolition firm struggles to take down a damaged building for their mysterious clients
I Was a Foreman at the Grazer Tower Demolition
By now Grazer Tower has faded as a household name but to some the rumors and madness surrounding it refuse to die. The demolition of the massive three hundred twenty foot octagonal hotel left a gap in the Atlanta skyline but little fondness in anyone's hearts. I have no particular first hand insight into the freak lightning strikes on the 30th floor atrium which killed 13 people but I am willing to tell my side of the story about the demolition effort leading to the botched implosion. I tell this as a full, open, and honest disclosure. The legal maneuvering and ink has dried, all of the dead are buried, and all the bleeding stopped. The scars remain, the pain persists, the things I saw there are burned in my head even after they've been discredited into the conspiracy theory woodwork of the internet. The lightning storm struck on a Sunday afternoon and the next day for all we knew the bodies were still warm when a lawyer representing the owners of Grazer Tower entered our corporate office. I look back on it now with open and clear eyes and realize it was all very strange from the start when my Lead Foreman, Tom, and I were called into the meeting in progress.
The lawyer and now our client, looked like a fairly normal man in his mid thirties aside from his impeccably white suit which was ironed to the point of looking like stone rather than cloth. Beside the white suit his lips were an uncomfortable maroon and glossy. Besides this he spoke in a plain, clear, and disarming manner refraining from legalese and maintaining a firm but not imposing eye contract with whomever he was speaking directly to.
He told us in no uncertain terms he was instructed to contract with our firm to take down his client's building. Tom and I were shocked when we heard this after all, the lightning disaster, while tragic and perhaps undeservedly tarnishing in the short term to the Grazer Hotel's reputation, did not render the structure unusable nor unsafe to its surroundings. The worst damage was that the steel dome of the 30th floor atrium had collapsed into the vaulted restaurant and ballroom of the 29th floor but that's where the structure damage started and ended, in fact aside from the 28th, 29th, and 30th floor, city engineers working overnight already declared the building sound. So while perhaps still time consuming and costly, repairing the building was definitely possible and cost effective but owners, to make an analogy, were basically insisting on totaling a car after a minor parking lot fender bender. They gave us a specific date by which the building needed to be taken down. When our Boss, Jim, rebuffed the lawyer, not only because the date was challenging and soon but also because it was possible we could have it dropped BEFORE the date specified. The lawyer insisted the building go down on the date given – not later and not earlier. Jim swallowed hard and then glanced at Tom and I. Then the lawyer involved the name of the head of the owner's group, a Mr. Rohmer.
Mr. Rohmer, according to the lawyer, was offering our firm one hundred percent of the cost upfront and another twenty perfect of the total cost plus any overruns – stating if the implosion came early or late, it would mean all very little – no, that's no a typo, that's how the lawyer phrased it from his client, Mr. Rohmer. With that detail out of the way, you can see how the car totaling analogy breaks down considering the owners did not stand to profit from it's demolition – in fact quite the opposite.
The lawyer chuckled a bit to break the tension. He explained his clients and Mr. Rohmer in particular were an unorthodox bunch and then even insisted he wear the white suit in any of their dealings. The lawyer produced a tablet PC from his messenger bag and leveled it to Jim. On the tablet was all the banking confirmation codes ready to go for a direct deposit into our firms account alongside a contract. Jim seemed to hiccup or belch in excitement as he hurried around the short side of his desk to sign it since his stubby t-rex arms could not reach across his desk.
The firm was committed, we were committed – I was committed and I started to mentally cramp up over the challenges we all faced. The Grazer Hotel was in the middle of a dense urban grid. It had to be precise drop with virtually no margin for error. Jim poured us a dram of scotch from the bottle hidden under his desk. None of us a second thought about Rohmer's cryptic remark – after all, how often did you get a one hundred twenty perfect no-bid contract walk in off the street, out of the blue?
A combination of exhilaration over the money and anxiety over the work load kept us all from sleeping that night. Jim and Tom ended up going out and having a wild night to celebrate while I went home to mentally prepare not only myself but also my wife and kids. As a family they were staring down a month and a half of late nights and weekends with no dad. My wife was frustrated until I told her about the bonus and then she said she'd fill the lonely time making plans to send the kids to Disney World and then find a place for us to spend alone together. The promise of a much needed vacation after this only super charged the butterflies in my stomach further in anticipation of this challenging season ending.
As the assistant foreman I had office and on-site duties. Most of it was coordinating between the two. This included personnel, setting up site security – including guards and cameras to keep urban explorers and vagrants of out the dangerous site and satisfy OSHA hazardous work place safety requirements. The most challenging duty was site prep which included disposal of furnishings, removal of windows and other flourishes of the structure's facade which could become deadly shrapnel during an implosion. Fortunately, despite all of this, the nagging questions about permits and clean-up contracts were already handled by the lawyer. Rohmer's group also waived any rights to furnishings which means they could be unceremoniously hauled out in any way we chose to and disposed of.
Now I suppose some of these things should have came as red flags to me – or at least some one in the company but we all justified it as the group must have connects and short cuts to permits and it was a relatively new building, only about twenty years old in fact and furnishings – whether old or new probably weren't of any antique or sentimental value. All in all these were blessings since they freed our hands a bit and made a near impossible deadline more possible.
Of course the good news came with some bad news. The city engineers forbade us from working at the 28th, 29th, and 30th floors – unless we brought in a separate crew to stabilize those levels first. This was quite the fly in the ointment for the controlled implosion plan we sketched out. The 30th floor wasn't as much of a problem but the 29th floor ballroom and the weakening of the 28th floor meant we can't inspect for how compromised they were by the steel atrium dome. For all we knew if we blew the 27th floor on down the dome could shift and topple over the top three floors outside of the implosion safe zone, imperiling people and nearby structures.
I raised holy hell about it while Tom stood calm. It could take months to stabilize and clear those floors and far more money than I thought our eccentric client would pay in overruns. Jim waved me off mid sentence and simply told me he'd take care of it. That was good enough for Tom so it had to be good enough for me. I went back to my job – securing site and planning drop.
Although we had a problem with the top floor our saving grace lie in the basements. It had a three story subterranean parking garage, a basement level pool, and a utility sub-basement. We could easily smash the first ten or twelve floors into that deep footprint. Also the utility sub-basement gave us a clean cut off from the grid and a fairly convenient way to protect the surrounding grid without interruption. Still, at least part of our team would take have to take three weeks out of our six and change to handle the utilities.
The first week was hectic, they always were but we hit no major snags. By the end of it were on schedule and all of the parts were coming together. We thought maybe, just maybe, we were well on our way to an early Christmas bonus but nothing could prepare us for what was coming.
If you work on a site long enough and work anywhere on the site security reporting chain you're bound to get a few questionable reports from your night guys. Let's face it, for folks who are wake all night five or six nights a week poking around with flashlights chasing shadows, every building every where is haunted. I've been on the site security chain for thirteen years so it was easy for me to dismiss reports from the night guys about unusual glows on gutted floors and stairwells, elevators which moved on their own with no one calling for them or inside when they opened on a random floor, or the security cameras and cellphones constantly going offline on the 27th floor and the utility sub-basement.
I wasn't convinced anything of concern was going on until I got called on site by the test drilling team. This team was responsible for sampling the support materials to determine where it was best to place the explosives and what explosives would be best to use. They reported the interior supports were designed in an unusual way with a honey comb of unorthodox metals and concrete not reported on the building's records or blueprints. Specifically, they reported the concrete was impregnated by some kind of metal veins which gave off a bright shimmer. I was asked to come identify it but they claimed it disappeared by the time I arrived.
I was irate at the team and their supervisor for having me to come on down on site for something that sounded so wrong to begin with. They showed me a grainy cellphone video and told me they would swear on a stack of Bibles the sparkling compound welled up in the test coring like mercury, turned blood red and bled on the floor before disappearing into the torn up carpet. I chastised them for making this up and threatened to get new sub contractors if they kept wasting my time. I spoke with a separate sample team on the lower levels and they too discovered some unusual metal compositions – ones which were different then the ones found the top floors. One of the engineers speculated that the contrast in metals between the top and bottom floors could be cause the building to hold an electrical charge, like a battery or like a capacitor. Either way, the engineer said it would require more explosives than initially thought to take down the structure.
A couple of weeks later we were painfully behind – glass removal in particular was going slow because those contractors claimed they were constantly losing their toys. They also claimed one night to have cleared the top five floors on the east side of all their glass – only for all the windows to appear fully intact the next morning. I was forced to end their sub contract due to misrepresentation of work accomplished.
The glass wasn't the only thing slowing us down. The wire and plumbing removal was hindered by the wires somehow were fused to the pipes and in some places, the pipes were fused to the load-bearing members – we thought maybe it was due to the lightning strikes but that really didn't make sense since all of the wiring and plumbing otherwise seemed to work fine before we turned off the utilities. The only thing going for us was the helicopter loophole. Instead of accessing the 30th floor through the condemned floors we were able to get work teams on the atrium floor by helicopter. The bodies of the 13 were removed before we started working and before the atrium fully collapsed into the ballroom but the teams working on the roof reported many unusual artifacts including stained glass and Greek letters comprised of unusual amalgams of metal.
All of the strangeness culminated in the disappearance of one of the night time security guards named Phillipe. I say disappear because his girlfriend filed a missing persons report with the police and when they came to investigate Tom was busy with the atrium operations so the job fell to me. I walked the investigator through guard's smart phone filed reports from the previous evenings. Admittedly I was behind on my end approving the reports so I was embarrassed when things in the report took a turn. His reports including the same odd glows the others were reporting in the stairwells and seeing metallic veins throb on the walls.
His last reports stuck in my head: Report: Sub-basement 4 clear, 0312. Report: Sub-basement 5 clear, 0305. Report: Sub-basement 6 clear 0237.
His “all clear” reports documented levels of the building which did not exist and the further he went into the areas which did not exist, the automatic timestamps went backwards in time. It made no sense – unless he was confused as to where he was due to intoxication and there was software glitch with the timestamps. I was forced to give the investigator no firm explanation.
It's easy to write off a high security guard – they're flaky by their nature and have plenty of reasons to ghost a part time gig and even to pull prank on their final reports. I almost wrote it all off until I saw his girlfriend – apparently his fiance, handing out missing persons fliers outside of the site gate one morning. She seemed absolutely heartbroken and I got stabbed in the gut thinking maybe this wasn't a ghosting and prank after all. Seeing is believing and the next week I started to believe. Tom was finishing up on the atrium level. We used some heavy lift choppers to remove the rest of the frame and glass. Now we could get a better look into the section which collapsed into the 29th floor. We started by using a series of video drones to investigate the melted twisted dome through the collapsed roof. We quickly learned that the drones were being interfered with as their feed would cut out or their batteries would die almost immediately upon entering the ballroom.
So, we had to cut some corners, against city regulations, we let Tom and two others rappel in from the roof on secured anchored lines with helicopter over watch support. We needed to do this because we needed make sure that collapsed wreckage would not move and potentially change the implosion direction. Tom got twisted in his gear as he tried to lean into one of the holes in the roof. He slipped and fell in, disappearing from sight. We frantically radioed for Tom as the other two workers abandoned their own attempts to peer in and scrambled to Tom's aid. Tom was pulled out of the section uninjured but he appeared to be in shock, he looked wild eyed and shook as he was put on the helicopter and lowered back to ground level. Within minutes, Jim called us back to the office to discuss the near miss.
Two weeks to go and week behind, a missing guard, and now a near fatal accident. That for Jim, was the last straw. Tom and I had run out the rope Jim gave us to hang ourselves with. Jim slammed his hand on his desk as he catastrophized, red in the face, nearly breathless, he yelled we could very well kiss that twenty percent goodbye with the way things are going. He pressured Tom to go on the record after his dip into the structure that the atrium debris ball in the ballroom posed no threat to the implosion. Tom was elsewhere. He stared off in a thousand yard stare before replying to Jim that it posed no threat. Then Tom headed for the door. Jim screamed at him that he wasn't done chew us out but Tom only said he had to get back to it. I supported Tom and followed him. He and I headed back to the site to secure the night shift changes – another night not at home and having a late dinner.
I asked Tom in the car ride back what he saw in there. Tom was fixed in a trance and barely responded. He said it was wild. When we got back to the site, Tom separated from me through the gate while I strolled across the street to grab us some dinner from a street vendor. As I stood around waiting for two gyros and two cokes I could help but be mesmerized by the gutted tower. It seemed to breath in the spotlights inhaling puffs of the dust and dirt on the site and then exhaling it. A faint glow, barely perceivable against the light pollution, seemed to brighten, dim, and fade from the upper floors with each of the building's breaths. I was transfixed on it and it was the first time the building gave me an eerie feeling.
I got back on the site, food in hand, there was a buzz in their air as the night shift streamed in and the day shift streamed out. I barely had my hardhat seated corrected on my head when the site's emergency alarm blew. The interim foreman tossed me a radio as I was swept with him and our site occupational safety and emergency personnel to the basement.
Our increasingly panicked footfalls blotted out the squawk of the radios but I could hear one name again and again in the equally panicked messages – Tom Tom Tom. Whatever was happening was happening to Tom.
We reached the pool level and a trail of gasps proceeded me into the pool. There was Tom in his vest and hardhat face down in the middle of the pool with crimson oozing out him into the cerulean tiles lining the drained pool. We piled in from the ladders and shallow end to get to him. It was apparent when the first folks reached him that he was dead. They hauled him out on a stretcher and to our shock he looked like he had been dead for much longer than possible and his skin was water logged despite there being no water. He had died of fall trauma possibly despite the pool only being six feet deep. The paramedics also claimed he had water in his lungs. Then I noticed he was wearing his rappelling harness weaved in his vest – but that made no sense – he took it and his vest off when we were getting chewed out by Jim. Why would he put his rappelling gear on again.
I was the assistant foreman no more. Now the buck stopped with me. As they took Tom to the morgue we all knew the show must go on – our client demanded it, Jim demanded it and Tom would have wanted it that way. The same police investigator from the guard's disappearance met with me over Tom's death. They said it was standard procedure with work place deaths. I gave him a copy of the footage on an SD card and left the moment after it left my hand.
I had the recording queued up to the time of the commotion. The video we provided had a poor angle and was focused on the door to monitor access – the comings and goings of people. It was shift change so people were filing in and out Tom was somewhere in the crowd. The pool was one of the areas which required both foot patrols and constant video monitoring. I hit the rewind button on accident and watched his body lie there and lie there and then the timestamp sped past the 1900 hour mark. We were in traffic from meeting with Jim at that time. This was impossible but I kept my finger on the rewind button. Around 1400 the camera shakes a bit and there is slight glow reflecting on the doors so I let it play back to the shake. There is a soft green glow and then could hear a heft thud in the room. I gulped knowing that was Tom falling into the pool around the same time he fell into the hole in the roof. The soft glow turned brighter and brighter like a laser shining into the lens – something that wasn't present on the rewind. There was a flash of an incomprehensible shape or form on the screen. I was physically hurt in my eyes like I had just stared into the sun. I was left dazed with the shaped burned into my eyes with each blink. Then the camera system shorted out and a tiny puff of smoke left the memory module. The cameras blinked off wall to wall, the whole system was dead.
With the cameras fried, regulations required someone high in the company to be on site or we'd have to leave for the night. So I stayed knowing we couldn't afford to lose an hour much less an entire night. I circled the pool between approving payrolls and directing the increased security guard traffic required to monitor more areas. I was thinking about what I would say at Tom's funeral. I was thinking about Tom's family and what they would think about his apparent suicide.
I was forced to patrol the rest of the sub-basements as well since most of the guards were at the site perimeters or higher levels. I would have to follow paths of Phillipe, the disappeared guard, and all of the other guards who had mismatched timestamps on their increasingly strange reports. If not for today's incident and the recording of Tom's death, I would have stood fast to the idea that these reports were the product of night jitters and drugs but now, no.
I gritted my teeth as I exited the pool area to patrol the lower levels. I hated this building I muttered to myself. I couldn't wait to see it all rumble. I thought about which part I'd like to keep from the site to place in Tom's casket – then I realized it probably wasn't going to be an open casket funeral. I was lost in my thoughts and hatred for the building as I roamed through the parking garage into the utilities basement. I lost track of where I was as I weaved down stairwells.
I shown my flashlight on the wall and the floor level sign said “Sub-basement 999”. I stopped cold in my tracks. I was hoping it was a prank but I knew it was no prank. Then I thought maybe I'd have some answers. Maybe I would finally see what all the strangeness was about. But then I freaked out about Phillipe's disappearance and turned to run back up the stairwell. I ran up four levels to what I thought was the lobby and I pushed the door open.
My jaw hit the floor when I saw a black and white galaxy – the stars were black and the space was white with gradations of gray. The whole room was just white outer space and the whole universe swirled fast counter clockwise. I tried to breath and when I did the galaxy shrunk before my eyes until it was the size of a tiny of marble and then even smaller to a speck of dust. I reached out as it floated towards me. I stared at the speck in a cold sweat. As I stared, I was looking deeper and deeper into impossible detail. In the dust I found the milky way galaxy, I found our solar system, I found Earth and then I found North America, and then I found myself back in the pool room dripping in sweat.
Time seemed to skip and space was malleable in that hotel. As we approached the deadline to drop it, some jobs which would take hours took days and some jobs which would take days took minutes. The anomalies seemed to swarm tonight and day and yet we pressed on. Tom was buried and I couldn't go.
We met the deadline and the city came out in numbers to watch us drop the thirty floor structure. They gathered nearly two blocks away clad in ponchos and dust masks bracing for the implosion triggered by half a ton of high explosives.
I was so burned out and demoralized. My mantra became “this is for Tom, this is for Tom” and it was the only thing carrying me to this day. I chalked up all the anomalies and even my own experience on 999th sub-basement level as a reaction to shock, loss, grief, and exhaustion.
We were on the thirty minute countdown and Mr. Rohmer's attorney was designated as the trigger man. He stood there with Jim and I in the command trailer with the detonator remote. The remote triggered a two minute countdown on the charges from a master control station in my command trailer. All the charges had to be hardwired old school style because we were getting too much walkie talkie and radio interference from inside the structure for any other method of trigger to be reliable. I was too tried to make a stink about insisting I do it. I just wanted it to be over but suddenly a freak thunderstorm brewed up over the city. The skies were overcast and we were on the verge of having to abort the implosion until the next day – despite the next day being a day past the deadline. If we didn't abort and went through with the implosion, there was a strong chance the shock waves from the blast would bounce back off the lower cloud base and shatter windows and ears across the city.
I sat in my command chair at the perimeter in dismay, almost in tears as it started to rain. I felt my heart drop into the acid of my stomach as I ordered the suspension of the implosion for the day. The lawyer, surprisingly, did not resist. I watched as the crowds dispersed from the viewing lines and police started to permit traffic back through the streets surrounding the site.
Then a group of unauthorized personnel threw open the door of the trailer. They were a mass of men and women clad in pressed white suits, stoney faces with thin maroon lips, one of them carried a white covered book.
The attorney dropped his eyes and head in deference to elderly man at the head of the congregation. The attorney addressed him as Monsignor. The man introduced himself as Monsignor Rohmer and he placed his hand on his attorney, calling him a cousin of the congregation, stating there will be no postponement and no delay.
Rohmer, a man I judged to be in his late 50's or early 60's was bald and covered it with a white derby hat. He was tall, about six five, and thin, so thin his suit fit him like snake half shedding its skin. His was face long and his cheeks thin and worn like a mountain side. His voice was steady and low like waterfall. Everything he said bloomed with authority and confidence. He ordered the building would be dropped in twenty minutes.
I told him I didn't care if he was the owner, the building could not be blown in this weather and I snatched the detonator out of his attorney's hands. Rohmer, moving faster than I believed humanly possible with some kind of martial arts move swiped the detonator from my hands. Simultaneously, he had two of his followers press Jim against the wall. They put him in a sleeper hold and he slumped down to the floor barely getting a word out. Then Rohmer gestured to his flock to follow towards the building.
They left in a fast deliberate almost choreographed walk like a flock of geese flying in formation. I grabbed the radio to get police help but I realized that was hopeless. I watched as our trailer was shrouded in the same interference we experienced in the building's interior. The CCTV monitors flickered out and the radio squawked static. Then I realized Rohmer had no control over the detonation and no way to contact his followers still with us in the command trailer. So I did what I had to and pulled the master key out of the master detonator in the command trailer and chased after the flock. I needed to know what was happening I needed to see with my own eyes what all of this was all about.
The Congregation had reached the lobby and I saw the trailing end of the clad white congregate into the stairwell. I darted at my best speed to follow them.
I reached the stair well door. I found Rohmer standing on the top step, apparently waiting for me. I was out of breath while he began to speak to me in his booming voice. He explained to me that if the building did not fall in the next twenty minutes, all of Earth would be pulled, sucked, inside out and down through the building into the black and white universe. The entire building, but especially the atrium dome, he continued, was designed and built to create and then temporarily contain an impossible shape, a living form, a 4 dimensional object, a tesseract, when struck by lightning in the presence of thirteen self-sacrificial Congregate members. This shape would slowly expand and cause space and time anomalies before growing so large inside compared to its size would pull us all into place with no life.
The shape was still in the process of forming even as we spoke, he said. It would reach critical mass and dimensional contortion and the only way to stop it was to disfigure and crush it in the hotel's collapse. He led me into the pool level where his entire congregation was sitting cross-legged where Tom fell. A green pulse, like a laser, came down from the ceiling into the group's center, where their white book lay open on blank pages. I had a feeling this glow was being projected down from the ballroom where the dome of the atrium was taking its final fourth dimensional form.
After a loud chant from the white clad followers, the book slammed shut and turned from a brilliant white shimming cover to one black as night. As they passed around book, their white suits turned black and the formed a single file line. Rohmer left my side and pulled the detonator from his suit. He showed it me and tossed it at me. In my panic I reached out with both hands to catch it but I forgot I still had the master key in my sweat slick hand and it fly out and fell at the foot of Rohmer.
I asked what he planned to do with the key without a lock and a jammed detonator. Rohmer bent down and grabbed the key and looked me without a hint of concern. He took the new black book into his hands and opened it facing the wall of the pool. A new green pulse launched from the book and flickered on the tiles. An octagonal outline appeared to frame a hazy image of a tropical beach. One by one Rohmer's congregation walked into the side of the pool, into glow and seemed to arrive safely on the otherside of the beach.
Once all his compatriots were on the beach, he turned a page in the book and reopened it, projecting another octagon portal on the side of the pool. I could see his destination – it was the command trailer. He stepped through portal and yelled to me from the other side that I had two minutes. The portal sealed.
I could hear the warning sirens we installed going off above me. Needless to say, I made it out, just barely. I reached the perimeter fence screaming to anyone who was in ear shot to run away. The building imploded as planned but I was caught in the dust cloud and developed tinnitus severe enough to be comparable with combat veterans.
The shock waves from the explosions were reflected off the cloud base and channeled down the street by other skyscrapers. Virtually every window in a two block radius around the site was shattered and hundreds of people were hurt in the resulting stampede and vehicle collisions caused by fleeing from the flying glass cascade. Parts of downtown looked like a war zone for weeks afterward.
Rohmer and the rest of his group, including the lawyer, had disappeared out of the trailer in another portal leaving a suitcase of gold equaling the twenty percent promised. Our company was fined, sued, and threatened with criminal charges and eventually put of business. There wasn't much left after paying the cities fines and lawyer fees.
Though I was spared any direct sanctions, I forced into an early retirement. I've had time to research Rohmer's group. There are at least six mentions of figures like Rohmer on the deepest parts of the conspiracy web. They seem to show up at a locale experiencing paranormal activity with a white book and then leave with a black book. Their departure usually marks the end of any strangeness. I can't be sure but this congregation seems to be summon demons, which they exorcise, by trapping them in their books. Trapping maybe a poor term to use since, as in the case of the Grazer hotel encounter, they can apparently cleanse the anomalies and then use the book containing them to weaponize a portion of the traits of whatever their unholy creations posses.
I suspect Rohmer and his congregation, now with the ability to teleport, are accelerating their plans, to whatever ends these paranormal means enable them.
Theo Plesha - Sequel to "Flush" by Theo Plesha on The Chilling App

[←Chapter 49] [Cover Art] [My Links] [Index] [Discord] [Subreddit] [Chapter 51→]
The weather was almost cold enough to imagine that Aya was back home, minus the creeping terror of the fog. She tried to push that last fact out of her mind, but it was ever present, along with its smothering sister from beneath the church. Still, despite the unpleasant edge, it was likely the last time she would get a proper rest before the battle.
The twins were obviously in their own world, Frare picking at the grasses around the tree, Sorore with eyes half-closed. The only people to offer any conversation were the paladins.
“Where… where do you come from, Lillian?” she said, after watching another bank of the fog wander overhead.
Lillian turned to her and gave her a strange look, not angry exactly, more wondering why she’d asked the question. Aya hoped that it wasn’t too much of a rude question back in Angorrah. At least she could always fall back on the excuse of being ignorant if it was.
“I come from Angorrah,” said the paladin.
“No, I mean where does your family come from?” she said.
Lillian’s expression deepened as if she was trying to figure out whether the question had some deeper meaning to it.
“Well, my father’s side of the family reaches back into antiquity. They’ve been on the same land for centuries. My mother is from Nieth, if that is what you mean, lady Aya.”
Aya nodded in encouragement, trying to get the Paladin to expand on the details. She didn’t, looking expectantly for a followup to the question.
“I was… just trying to make conversation,” Aya admitted, her gaze falling to the trodden dirt.
“Oh,” said Lillian, leaning back further as she looked elsewhere trying to abate the awkward realisation, “well, like I said, most of my family comes from my father’s side, and thus Angorrah. My mother is the only one that’s lived outside of it. Supposedly I have some uncles and aunts in Nieth, and some cousins too, but…”
“You’ve never met them?”
Lillian shook her head as she looked out to what was probably south - in the shifting fog it was difficult to tell.
“Never. I was inducted into the church at fifteen, I’ve never been outside of the continent. In fact, your village was the farthest I’ve ever been.”
“Oh. So you live in the actual city, then? Angorrah proper?”
“I might as well,” she laughed, although Aya thought it had a bitter edge to it, “I’ve spent over a decade of my life there.”
Aya sat and digested that for a few moments, before risking a further question.
“But it wasn’t always like that, was it? You lived somewhere else?”
“Yes, I did,” Lillian sighed, but said no more.
“I’ve lived in the city all my life,” Niche offered instead, “with my family. We’ve never known anything but the silver city for our entire lives. Both of my grandfather’s lines, as far as I could trace them, stay within its walls.”
“Would you mind… telling me about it?” Aya said, “I mean, we’re going there. But no one’s bothered to explain what it’s really like. Neither Sorore or Frare talk about it much either.”
“It’s the most beautiful city in the world,” said Niche instantly with absolute conviction.
“Anything else?” Aya said, looking rather unimpressed.
“It’s a- it’s difficult to explain,” said Niche, “the city is split in half.”
She vigorously nodded, hoping that this wouldn’t be the end of the details.
“It’s a city which…” he said, grasping at the words he was failing to find, “you really can’t- it’s something you have to actually see before it can be described.”
“Neither of us are poets, and besides, you’ll be in Angorrah soon enough,” said Lillian, “I can try though, however dry it might be. The city is split into two, like Niche said. On the upper half, the edges of the tributaries of the rivers form a bank where the old buildings sit. You’ll find the ecclesial courts, the palace of purity, and the chief garrison of the path of strength.”
She hovered her hands at different levels to illustrate the relative heights of the city districts.
“There’s a great sandstone cliff, with many small waterfalls coursing down. There’s a path that winds a way up under them - we used to walk them everyday as part of our training, then as part of our patrols. The names of all the founders of Angorrah, and many of the heroes that fought against the crown are etched into the cliff face. Of course, most travellers use the iron elevators that were built nearly a century ago.”
Aya already felt the numbing terror beginning to be forgotten almost, and she encouraged Lillian to continue.
“The lower half represents the majority of the city, both in terms of population and size,” she said, her fingers circling out to represent the relative immensity of this area, “layers upon layers of districts criss-crossed by roads and studded with alleys. It’s quite a lot to figure out.”
“They throw you off the deep end when they’re teaching you to patrol,” Niche said, “I remember just how lost you were the first couple times. Remember when you couldn’t figure out which dock you were at, and the sign was right next to you?”
“It was half-fallen off!” Lillian protested, her ears beginning to flush, “and the paint was practically gone, how was I supposed to realise-”
Aya was just about to ask the question of where she would be staying, when she saw a sharp motion in her periphery. Sorore sat bolt upright, staying at the remains of a leaf brought up to a narrow sliver of sunlight. There was a curious interplay within her expression, fear, excitement, and triumph merging together in the green of her eyes.
By the time that the paladins had turned, she was gesticulating wildly, saying that she had found something. Aya had barely any time to wonder before she’d taken off, leading them around the corner of the church. Apparently what she sought was not there, for she took them into the church and down through the door into the earth.
At the end, before a wall of black stone, they found Efrain with his cat companion. He was holding a black knife, glittering in the gloomy light he’d cast. He turned as Sorore approached him, telling him that she understood what to do. Aya watched as, after a few further questions, he handed her the knife, which dissolved into a liquid in the girl’s palm.
With bated breath, Aya stared as the fluid metal branched out to form a new shape. She realised, with no small amount of envy, that the girl was using magic just as she had. The construction would’ve been a beautiful thing to watch if not for the deathly cold that permeated the catacombs. Aya felt like she could lay down and simply die here if she wasn’t careful.
When it was done, Sorore handed the knife back to Efrain, now solid, which he placed against the stones. They were promptly steered away as he told the Paladins to remove them from whatever lurked behind the door. The party was up the steps and walking past the beds, Frare whispering some consultations to the obviously upset Sorore when they heard the sound.
A long, distant wail, half-lost among the tombs.
Sorore took off running, managing to rend herself free of the paladin’s grip. By the time they managed to catch up, she was at the stairs, taking them two at a time, going deeper and deeper into the earth. The paladins were ahead of Aya with their longer strides, pounding down on the sands as she saw that the passage had changed.
In the distance, past where the black stone wall had been, there was a far distance light, barely visible in the dark. The cold had deepened even further, becoming something hateful to life itself. They were almost to the edge of the hallway, and within moments, they’d passed out through the door and into this new hidden place.
More stones, more elegantly laid and carved, more beds, these ones with carved reliefs of ancient men. Intricate pillars and vaulted ceilings rushed past as they pushed deeper and deeper into the tomb. Aya nearly fell over more than once in the gloom, even as the light grew closer and closer to them.
The paladins finally caught up to Sorore just before the opening to that little light, catching her by the arms and lifting her off her feet. As she struggled, Aya made it past her, finding Frare to her side and a great expanse before her. She caught a brief glance of the gaunt form of the mage, and something large and misshapen beyond him.
Then the scene exploded into light and heat as fire leapt from up and around them.
Her last sight, other than the inferno that rose like a flaming curtain was that of the mage, his black clothes now glittering a dark crimson. In silence, he regarded them, and Aya realised for the first time how empty his eyes were. The twin pits of blackness betrayed nothing about the man behind the mask, no sardonic warmth or cultivated intelligence.
She was carted away from the frightful sight, and back up the hall at a prodigious pace. The paladins had simply slung them over their shoulders and fled. Harder the gauntlets dug to her back, as the catacombs behind them went from darkness to a dull red. The children were not given rest or respite, only carried onwards, through the tombs, up the stairs, to burst out onto the church landing and through the door.
Several of the peasants in the church started and turned at their sudden reemergence. Aya staggered over to the wall, heaving as she tried to sooth her aching chest. The twins were much the same, Sorore fully bent over and wheezing with effort. However, before any of them could settle, they were steered roughly towards the small alcove of the medical bay.
The sights of the swords in hand sent the watching group into alarmed chatter. This was only compounded as Lillian and Niche took up positions from within the door they’d just come through. Moments later, there came the sound of the groaning of wood and stone as they began to shift and strain.
Worse still was the sight of red light from beneath the door and seeping through the joints of the stones. The air began to haze and billow, a hot breeze rushing past them. The door bursting into flame was enough to send some of the frightened defenders running for the church-front. Knights were beginning to gather, pointing and exclaiming their confusion at this new, mysterious threat.
“What is it? What have you done?” called Damafelce, starring in horror at the burning door.
Lillian didn’t even bother to answer, just squared her shoulders and gripped her sword tighter.
Whatever animosity between the two women vanished as Damafelce drew and stood beside Lillian. Sweat began to pool and drip despite the unnatural chill of the fog.
Doubt began to creep into Aya’s heart - perhaps she had indeed been wrong, and perhaps the wisdom and experience of the Paladins had steered them right. The brilliant flames and empty eyes had left their impression upon her. All her interactions with Efrain seemed to be cast in a new light, each comment taking on a sinister cast.
The stones were beginning to glow in their own right, cracking and popping as the mortar disintegrated. A child couldn’t take it anymore and began to scream. It brought to mind the previous evening, the impaling claw lifting the boy into the air. Fear mixed with what must’ve been resolution within Aya ,and she managed to bring herself to lay a hand on a child’s sleeve.
They all looked at her, eyes wide, many brimmed with tears, having already seen far too much.
“It’ll be alright,” she said, squeezing the arm of a girl, “we’ll make it. They’ll protect us.”
There were some sparse nods and hopeful murmurs, but Aya could tell that some of the older ones didn’t believe it.
The stones were now a yellowish orange, and Aya was concerned that they might begin to melt and run like candle wax. The charm of the stones, their strength that almost seemed more akin to a confidence, was now utterly forgotten. The air within grew almost uncomfortably hot, villagers and knights alike holding their breath as they waited for whatever horror was going to emerge.
They waited, and waited, and waited.
The stones were still glowing, but it seemed whatever had come up from the deep had moved on and up. Slowly they faded from yellow, to orange, to red, and by the time they were brown, the peasants were turning to the paladins for guidance. Last to relax was Lillian, though it was only enough to see her sword tip faltered slightly.
“It’s moved to the roof,” she barely managed, such was the tension she held in her jaw.
Damafelce turned to remark, or perhaps to ask a question of the paladin about what she had just witnessed. She didn’t even open her mouth before a long chime echoed through the cooling air. She, along with the rest of her knights turned and rushed for the front doors.
Out from the pan and into the fire - another attack had begun.
Lillian and Niche looked at each other and then at the children, all three watching the stones resume their usual black.
“Mage or monsters?” said Niche, “which first?”
“Stay near the children until I get a better idea of what’s happening,” Lillian said, following the group of knights past the barricade.
Not long after she’d vanished into the night, a group of men burst through the charred door, partially taking what was left off its hinges. Doused in sweat, but otherwise unburnt, they stumbled into the mainstay of the church, and gesticulated wildly all around. When their glances fell on Niche, they began to beseech him, telling him of the living fire that had emerged onto the roof.
Niche picked up one of them that had fallen to the ground in haste or shock, shaking him, trying to get him to elaborate. Stories tumbled out of them of a great inferno, perhaps in the shape of a beast, perhaps not, that emerged, nay erupted, nay crawled from the tower stairs. At the heart of it was a black figure, one of the creatures, no, something horrible, no, the mage!
Niche’s eyes narrowed as he tried to parse some coherent meaning from the disparate stories. In the midst of the confusion, Aya took a half step toward the tower, terror, resolution, and a faint curiosity fighting with each other. Her foot pressed to the floor, and everything around her fell into a crystal clarity.
Bellows of command, clashes of claw and sword, the screams of men and beast, the whimpers of the frightened children. Every line on the stone, every bead of sweat and glance of eye, the smell of sweat and blood, the icy chill and the still-warm air. Everything, everywhere, at all once, clarion and present.
And beyond that, above them, something overshadowing them all, gathering, building itself. A wall of something, fulgent and hot, frothing and bearing down like a river breaking a log dam. Instinct drove her down to the cool stones, flattening her body and covering her head.
Behind her closed eyes, the darkness flipped to bright red, accompanied by a roar so great it became her. The entire building was shaking so violently she was sure she would be thrown out the front doors and to the slavering monsters. Heat rolled over her, smothering her like a quilt, driving away even the terrible chill. When she opened her eyes, she found soldiers, peasants and paladins on the ground, rolling and struggling to stand back up amid a floor of barricade splinters and glass shards.
The heat was reaching unbearable levels, driving Aya up and out, past the barricades in a mad scramble. Stumbling out into the comparatively cooler night, she looked up past the door and roof edge. Above the church extended a halo of fire, blooming outward like the bows of a mighty tree.
The branches fell to the earth, streaming sparks and embers into the evening as they furled across the remaining gardens, destroying all it touched. Most of the men had noticed the source of the heat and light, and were scrambling away desperately. The monsters, apparently having no such presence of mind, drove themselves further, and into the incinerating light.
The darkness came alive with the final screams of the things as they were burnt to ash. The human defenders were left mostly untouched, and the tide spilling over the outer wall were subsumed in the inferno. Aya slumped to the ground, witnessing this miraculous occurrence, not minding the cuts on her hands or knees.
“What…?” she said, watching the fires begin to wink out.
With that, she turned back, leaving the battle and its remnants all behind her. Through the barricades, through the aisle, through the clumsy grab by a still dazed Niche, through the door, up the melted stairs and out onto the roof.
There, across from the exit, lay a pair of slumped figures against the far wall. The mage was crumpled, motionless, saggy robes no longer cutting his trim figure. In his lap laid Innialysia, fur now merely coal black, no longer aglow as it had been.
On the railing of the roof, above the two, stood something faint in the light from the fire below. A shimmering, hazy outline, of a girl, looking down at them. As Aya drew to look at her, she could’ve sworn that the spirit was smiling as it began to fragment and dissipate. With a final gust of the warm breeze, the shimmering remnants were carried out to fade into the now clear stars.
[←Chapter 49] [Cover Art] [My Links] [Index] [Discord] [Subreddit] [Chapter 51→]

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Memory transcript subject: Erim, lieutenant of the Kratotl extermination fleet Date: [standardized human time] October 19th, 2136
I woke up and got up from the couch. I looked around and saw my dad sleeping on a chair. I walked nervously into the kitchen where I saw the predator eating something between two buns.
The human heard me and put the food back into the plate. He then turned around and looked at me.
“Good morning go get something to eat from the fridge” he pointed at the white box container near an oven and a couple cabinets.
“I-I Uh c-can’t have m-m-meat you know?” I looked nervously at the old human. He once again stopped eating and looked at me with those nightmarish eyes.
“There other foods in there you dumbass, don’t you know humans are omnivores. Oh wait you wouldn’t because your too busy burning fucking children then having the time to actually research what the hell your doing!” I jumped back in fear at the elderly human. He banged his cane on the floor. He ripped a chunk out of his food and swallowed.
I nervously opened the fridge and saw what was inside. There were multiple drinks of the brown bottles. Some juice was also inside. So much meat of all different kinds, I almost puked at the sight.
I grabbed some of the weird of the fruit and brought it over to the table and nervously sat down in a chair. I examined the weird orange and red fruits infront of me.
I took a bite of the weird red fruit. It was juicy and delicious. I then took a bite of the round orange fruit. Wow that actually burned slightly. It was a citrusy taste for sure but wow.
I looked over at the predator Sean nervously. He kept chewing on the weird food in his hands.
“W-what are you e-eating?” The human looked up from his food.
“A breakfast sandwich” the human than took another bite out of the sandwich.
“What’s in it?”
“Cheese, sausage and fried eggs” I stopped eating right there and then. Did he just say eggs!? They eat fucking children!
I got from my chair fast and ran. The human got pissed and got up after me.
“GOD FUCKING DAMN IT THEY’RE NOT FERTILE YOU BIRD BRAIN GET BACK HERE!” I jumped off the walls dodging the human.
After going on for a while I got tired and the human grabbed me. He then set me down on a chair and looked at me.
“Just because I eat eggs doesn’t mean I eat babies!, you have understand this!” I trembled in fear at the predator yelling at me.
After explaining why he was eating eggs he sent me back to the living room where I watched tv for a couple hours till my dad woke up.
“Hey son you ok?” I looked at my father and nodded we then turned our attention towards the tv. It was some weird show about animal rescues or I think it was.
The human on the screen went into a murky water pond and stood on something before grabbing it from underneath his feet. He pulled it out of the water and it was some shelled reptile.
The poor prey animal was being held by the tail while the human was screaming something about wild action.
“Hey come on” we both looked at the human who was in the doorway. We nervously got up and followed. We walked into the garage and he had some bag connected to this weird vehicle.
“Get on” he sat on the weird vehicle obviously meant for snow. Me and my father than walked up and sat behind him.
The predator started the engine and we went flying through the snow. He then soon went into a forest dodging trees and rocks.
He then stopped and got off the vehicle and grabbed his bag. He unzipped it and pulled out a rifle with a scope on it.
“Come on an be quiet” we followed the hunter as slowly as possible and as quiet as we could possibly be.
He then stopped and aimed his rifle at something near the trees. I tried to focus on what he was aiming at and saw it was a brown prey animal with antlers.
He took in a breath and then held it for a couple seconds. I was going to try and stop him when.
A loud crack went through the air as the recoiled of the rifle hit the hunters shoulder. The creature was shot in the heart area and fell down after limping.
The human slowly walked over to the creature who was bleeding onto the snow. Me and dad followed him till we could see the whites of its eyes.
“Ah damn things still moving. Give me a second” Sean pulled out a big knife and kneeled down to the creature. He then punctured the throat of the creature ending its suffering.
Sean then grabbed the creature and heaved it onto his shoulder and carried it back to the vehicle. He tied the corpse to the back of his vehicle and got on.
Me and father then sat behind the human and he started to head back to the lodge.
We were in a snowy clearing when the human suddenly stopped.
“Why did we s-“ the human covered my beak to shut me up and pointed at something in the snow. I focused on it and saw it.
It was massive. A completely white predator as white as the snow. It looked like an albino Zurulian giant. One of its eye holes had a crater in them.
“A polar bear, and I know this one. It’s old one eye” the frosty air came off of the humans mouth whenever he spoke.
“Bastard killed my friend while back. Wonderful guy Navajo too” the polar bear walked around in the snow appearing to not notice us.
“We’ll come back for him some other time” the human started the engine again and raced back towards the lodge.
We soon arrived and he parked the vehicle outside while we headed in.
He brought the corpse inside and put it on a table. He then went to the kitchen and grabbed a couple knives and cleavers.
I watched nervously as the human took this huge knife and took off the antlers. He then looked over to me and dad.
“Come on then I can’t do this by myself” we nervously walked up to the human and he handed us a knife and a cleaver.
“Let’s get to skinning and carving!” I looked at the shine in the cleaver. Seeing my blue feathers reflecting back at me.
The human took the knife and started to skin the creature. He then pulled off the pelt and set it aside.
I looked at the red flesh of the poor creature. Such an awful way to go it was.
We spent hours hacking up the meat and organizing it. The human grabbed all the bones and put them in a bag which he put in the garage.
He wrapped all the meat up in tight bags and put them in a freezer.
He made us then go feed some plants to Ciran which we immediately did. Luckily the Harchen was still asleep so he wouldn’t have to see this.
Sean then told us to go rinse the blood off our feathers. We went into the showers and rinsed almost every piece of flesh and blood right off.
When we were done we walked into the living room and sat down on the couch to watch the tv.
I thought to myself if I would ever see my mom and my sister ever again.

I'm getting behind in these. Time to catch up.
When Boardwalk Hall in Atlantic City is mentioned (formerly known as the Atlantic City Convention Center) every organ fan instantly thinks of the gigantic Midmer-Losh organ in the main hall. Few people know about the Kimball organ that lives in the much smaller ballroom just in the front part of the building. By ballroom, I could also say gym, as apparently they play basketball in this space. Even though this is the small space, it's still built to Atlantic City scales.
And the organ there, while quite a bit more modest compared to it's neighbor, is, as Nathan Bryson points out in the video, still in itself a very landmark instrument. This organ never suffered the damage from weather, construction workers, and neglect that the big organ did. At least not as badly, and because it's smaller, to less effect. This organ is fully playing, and about 90% restored. The AC guys have been trying to get us out to see this organ for some time, so finally, in April, we got in the car and headed for the boardwalk.
This organ is unique in that the organ builders wanted to create a theatre organ, and the organ designers wanted a more classical instrument. The result is an instrument with its feet in both worlds. It still has quite an early 20th century sound, and adding a Wurlitzer tremolo to the Kimball Tibia pipes certainly helps that, but it is capable of playing more classical rep. I don't know that it gets used for that much. The video is available here: https://youtu.be/17AksJkhfM4
A whole host of the staff pitched in for this one. Nathan Bryson, Curator of Organs was there to talk about the project, Nick Myers demonstrates the organ, Dylan Shaw performs for us, and Carl Hersom, Boardwalk Hall Shop Foreman takes us through the organ, almost all familiar faces. Jonathan Farnsley was there to help out as well, but he didn't show up on camera.
We arrived about 1pm, and by 5 we were done shooting, but that left time to go take a little tour of the big organ. We got as much as we could before our batteries died, and that content may make it to YouTube someday. We shall see.