This server has a hardcore vanilla feel but with tasteful mods and cool features that aren't available in official servers. Check it out if you're interested! I'm hoping to grow a community of DayZ enthusiasts who love the vanilla plus experience.
Server Features
Active admins
Vanilla stamina and loot economy
Dark nights
NVGs can spawn in any military area
AK101 and AK74 have rare green and black versions along with the individual attachments spawning rarely
Green and black M4 attachments also spawn rarely
Camo and green plate carriers spawn in military areas
Black plate carriers spawn in dynamic events
Plate carrier attachments of all colors spawn in military areas
Shoes spawn pristine or worn
Loot spawns in green military towers
Less useless items like thermometers and construction helmets
Flashlight have a chance to spawn with a battery
Witch hoods spawn in red, brown, and black variants
Military backpacks with weapon slots rarely spawn in dynamic events and toxic zones
Noteworthy Mods
Advanced Weapon Scopes-Adds a better variety of scopes and adapters.
Autorun
BuildEverywhere
Building Fortifications-Adds the ability to build window barricades and doors with a vanilla feel. Window barricade kits and door kits are crafted the same way as vanilla wall kits (rope and sticks).
Car Cover-Allows vehicles to be covered with camo nets.
Code Lock
Ear Plugs
Flip Transport-Allows vehicles to be "pushed" in case they get stuck or flip over.
MMG Base Storage-Adds many new storage items such as cabinets, gun racks, and safes.
MMG Civilian Clothing
No Vehicle Damage-Vehicles can no longer take collision damage however they can still be damaged with bullets, explosives, overrevving, deep water, or driving without enough water in the radiator.
Red Falcon Flight System Heliz-Adds helicopters into the game which mostly spawn in military areas. They will require parts, fuel, and hydraulic fluid to operate.
RFFS Heli Car Cover Addon-Adds the ability to cover helicopters with camo nets.
Trader Plus-Adds car codelocks and car lockpicks which are both rare on this server. Car codelocks can be found in the same areas as codelocks however car lockpicks only spawn at dynamic events such as helicopter crashes. Please note that this server does not have traders.
Vehicle 3PP
ViewInventoryAnimation
WindstridesClothingPack
Zen Notes-Adds pens to the server which can be combined with paper to write custom notes that can be stuck to surfaces.
Please feel free to check out my discord for more information
https://discord.gg/xuayHU9V

I purchased an 18 amp 1U rack mountable surge protected power strip from Amazon and plan on mounting it to the bottom of my wood desk (by hacking the mount hardware to turn 90 degrees). A few questions:
- Is it safe to mount a power strip directly under a flammable surface (poly coated wood)? If not, is there a way I can make it safe?
- Is this a quality product that will actually trip? Is the plastic inside normal?
See attached photos.
(I plan to mount this so that the outlets will be facing the back of my desk, not downwards)
https://preview.redd.it/9ogdcep2wn3b1.jpg?width=3024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=80a4ff2c443e71e9a10fffcf44592a56a7d91aed
https://preview.redd.it/dnk7l7t1wn3b1.jpg?width=3024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=5f8d3d966effccb082b36c2b9e619a1712ed1cbe
https://preview.redd.it/gx1shx50wn3b1.jpg?width=3024&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=2632010a2cb80de055aa6b604136739a86e3b9ab

The E-coating process has changed the way many producers think about coating their products. There are so many advantages to e-coating your products; such as more durability, better corrosion resistance, and so many more. But many people forgot how much of an advantage the coat and e-coating colors are.
First, let’s talk about that beautiful e-coating. The e-coating itself lasts much longer paint and is resistant to chipping or fading. No matter how you decide to e-coat your product, it will continue looking brand new for years to come.
Besides the life of the coating, the colors of the e-coating really make it shine. E-coating offers almost an unlimited selection of colors. Any different type of pigments can be submerged with the resins in the e-coating bath and adhere to your product. Some of the most popular e-coated colors on your product are clear, black, and bronze.
The best part of e-coating is no matter what color you get your product will look amazing! E- coating hits all the hard-to-reach places and completely covers the product in your chosen color. E-coating’s layer is smooth and blemish free and could not look better. The product will look so good it will shine.
E-coating has become a key component in mass production. E-coating is a fast and efficient process that can coat and color your entire product however you see fit. With E-coating, you get 100% of your return on the product. It lasts longer, looks better, and can really make your product stand up against the best. Call Professional Plating today and see what we can do to make your product come out looking beautiful with the e-coating color of your dreams!
Our other services include Barrel Zinc Plating, Powder Coating, Multi-Process Plating and Coating, Pro-Advantage Coating, Pro-Dura Clear (only available at Professional Plating), and Zinc Plating. Get a quote today if you are in need of coating or plating services.

[Chapter One]
Prev and Next
​
Late at night, in the back of a warehouse.
Grigory squirmed against his restraints. The rope binding his hands was coarse and too tight, causing his hands to lose feeling. A bored council guard stood nearby, but was mostly ignoring him. He wasn’t going to get far with his hands and feet tied together. It was worse than he had thought possible. They are very much going to kill him tonight. This was even worse than either Stanisk or Aethlina had speculated, and he just knew that they would use his role in this disaster against him in future disagreements. However, he might be overly optimistic worrying about a future that might not include him.
Grigory thought over what he had left in his notebooks, contemplating if it would be enough for someone to continue his work. He wasn't sure. It was a lot more than he started with, but there weren't a lot of qualified scholars looking to follow his footsteps. The best outcomes for a lot of different paths all need him to survive.
Grigory tried not to be distracted by the ropes digging into him, and frantically wracked his mind for any sort of escape plan. He had a single imp totem on him, and they left him with his satchel nearby. That’s something. He would need to be untied to invoke it, and a single perfectly safe imp wouldn’t change the balance of power much. Perhaps if everyone but the four executive members left, he and Stanisk might have a chance to overpower them. Well he could at least be distracting while Stanisk overpowered them. They also hadn’t checked his satchel yet, so maybe he could bribe them with the ten thousand glindi engraved gold bar he brought to pledge his support? Bribes are a type of negotiation, and being tied up while they already had the gold put him in a frustratingly weak position to start negotiations. Not getting executed by the organised crime successor to the Council of Demonologists wasn’t on his list, but he still felt it was important.
Grigory could clearly see and hear the meeting continue in the centre of the warehouse. A small detail that he noticed was just how small the sums were. Robberies of a few hundred glindi? The value of a business protection racket being ten glucks a week? Had the runaway success of his imp-made goods distorted his value of money? Pandemonium Partners profited a few hundred thousand a month, and the big safe in the workshop’s basement held about a million glindi, mostly in heavy gold bars. That was after the expenses, taxes and salaries had been paid. Maybe bribes will work here.
Another trend that emerged was how cheap lives appeared to be. Stole a knife from the boss? Death. Miscounted the take? Death. Didn’t show up to the job? Finger loss. How they attracted or retained any talent at all was its own mystery. On that note, we wonder if he enormously overpaid his people? These goons were killing each other over sums of money close to what he paid each of his security goons a day, which in turn was a fraction of what he was paying his partners. All the people he hired seemed excited when he told them the starting salary, and not a single one asked for a raise. Not the time for that! Focus on the matter at hand! Grigory continued to look for anything that he could use to escape.
All too soon the business part of the meeting was concluded. Two of the Council's guards wheeled out a cask of beer, and a crate of cheap clay mugs. Not great news for plans that require being left alone. In singles and groups the ‘Demonologists’ started to come over to where he was tied up. To drink cheap beer and look upon true evil in his demon summoning face.
“Hullo gentlemen! This is all a silly mistake, I’m sure we can work something out,” Grigory said with a calmness and pleasantness he didn’t feel.
A gangster in a threadbare tunic and patched leather pants started going through his coat, and then his satchel. His notebooks with neatly written titles were thrown on the floor, and the minor spell reagents placed on top of a nearby crate.
“Holy shit!” he exclaimed far too loudly, ensuring everyone saw him pull out the slim gold bar, about the size of a knife handle. “This can’t be real?!” The gangster saw how everyone near him stared, mouths agape at the bar in his open hand. The bar’s engraving of the Royal Mint of Hiruxia glinting in the flickering rushlight.
“Back off! I found it!” He held the gold tight in his fist and drew his dirty, nicked knife from his belt with his free hand. Quicker than a blink of an eye every member had their blades out and the men at arms from the edges moved towards the commotion.
“PUT IT AWAY!” boomed Arcanist Devorio. He reasserted control of the situation with palpable menace. “The prisoner and all his goods are the property of the Council! Put it down on the table, Tricky Tupo!”
The gangsters grudgingly resheathed their weapons, and Tricky Tupo passed the bar to the Arcanist without making eye contact.
“Holy shit, it is actually real gold!” Devorio muttered after inspecting it for a second. “Where the hell did you steal something like this?”
Something in his phrasing crystalized a plan in Grigory’s mind. An insane, reckless, dangerous plan. Grigory tried not to smile when he replied, “Not stolen at all, well not from our plane of reality.”
“You summoned it?” the well dressed head of the council asked incredulously.
“Oh no, not at all! I stole it from the treasury of Hell! You see that’s the point of having a perfectly obedient demon, it does what I say, and not what the Lords of Hell say,” Grigory lied. The Hellplane wasn’t organised like that at all. There was no such thing as a treasury there. He still wasn’t sure how to sell it, but he hoped there was enough ignorance and greed in the room to do the heavy lifting for him.
“Demonologists have never stolen from hell! As far as I know. I think?” The arcanist was in uncertain territory.
“Mostly true! But we steal minor things all the time, like magical energy, or arcane secrets, but the exciting advance I wrote to you about was stealing things like minerals or artefacts and sometimes regular boring gold.” Grigory was hoping he was priming their greed enough. He worried he was being too subtle.
“Well, it looks like you have a new job! You steal Hell gold for us now!” The Arcanist-turned-crime-lord was back in familiar territory of coercing people into giving him what he wanted.
“Oh I couldn’t!" Grigory feigned reluctance. “I don’t have the right equipment, I haven’t done the full balancing equations for today’s planar alignments! I should go home and get what I need, and I’ll be happy to come back tomorrow and we can get a fresh start on this.”
“Not a chance! You’re doing the ritual this instant, or your blood will cover this entire floor!” Davenio countered.
Grigory, aware that excess blood could damage goods, decided against arguing. “Alright, you win, I’ll have my imp steal another dozen gold bars tonight, I guess. But that’s it! I’m leaving after that!”
“Hah! We’ll see about that!” The arcanist cut Grigory’s bonds while staring straight into his eyes.
Grigory rubbed his sore wrists, and looked at the fifty or so people that had gathered around him. Cruel smiles and the stink of cheap beer surrounded him, but he had a plan. “First I’ll need to summon my imp, to help me set up the ritual!” Grigory found himself speaking like a showman at a fair, with exaggerated gestures and in a loud clear voice. The assembled thugs, goons and crime lords backed up to give him some space. Aethlina suggested obscuring the details of invoking a demon, which was a great idea. He slowly and rhythmically chanted in demonic detail how he likes his tea, with lots of hand gestures and steps and ritualistic looking movements. After a few long seconds he pulled out the imp totem from his vest, waved it around like a wand for a bit before doing the quick gesture of invocation to actually invoke the imp. With two small clicks the tiny imp landed on the rough floorboards of the warehouse. Several goons gasped, and one of the lady goons even shrieked a bit. Truly a sad state of affairs when someone calling themselves a demonologist is startled by a tiny perfectly safe imp!
Grigory picked up his notebooks from the floor, and found the one titled ‘Charts, Formulas, and Tables.’. Doing some mental maths, and modifying a few old spells and rituals on the fly, Grigory gave his imp simple directions in demonic. He could have just spoken plainly, but he was aware he was also putting on a show. Keeping everyone’s attention was important for the next part.
“Ahem, is there any furnace ash, or the like? I’ll need to create a circle in ash or wax or sand.” A few people turned to look for what he needed, and Grigory returned to working out the planar alignment in his notebook. They returned with a canvas bag of stove ashes, he looked them over and nodded. “Does anyone have a silvered steel blade I can use? Anyone at all? No matter, I have one!” Grigory pulled out the small pocket knife he used to cut his food with. It actually was silvered steel, since that also came up from time to time in his line of work. Besides it was interesting to learn that was the only silvered steel blade in the room.
Grigory passed the bag of ash to the imp. He gave detailed instructions on the shape, symbols, and spacing of the elements, all crucial to the huge circle taking shape in the middle of the warehouse floor. The assembled crowd of dirty, dangerous, and desperate deviants started to look concerned. What had started as a bit of mean spirited fun was fast turning into the exact thing they knew was evil incarnate. A path to Hell was being built in front of them! A few moved to leave, but the others called them names and threatened their reputations, forcing them to stay and watch. There was a good reason to stay, there was about to be a lot of gold for everyone. In theory.
At last the preparations were complete. Grigory slowly walked the entire outside of his circle to make sure it was unbroken. He had done similar rituals before, but always with hours of double checking, and never with an audience. His hands were sweaty and shaking as he tore a page out of his notebook. Quickly, he scribbled down a final set of instructions in demonic script and handed it to the imp.
“Merp!” it said in agreement.
Grigory turned to address everyone. He saw a very worried Stanisk standing off to the back, and he subtly gestured for him to wait. Steadying his nerves for a second he addressed his gathered kidnappers, “Soon you will see a small tear in reality! Plug your ears, lest the screams of the damned drive you mad!” Grigory looked around, to make sure everyone was properly alarmed, and activated the ritual.
With a crack of thunder and a hurricane blast of dry wind that reeked of hot iron and sulphur Grigory’s surprise appeared in the centre of the circle. A towering rage demon, its black armoured hide covered in dancing hellfire, its wolf-like face filled with jagged fangs, and its shoulders brushing the rafters of the old warehouse. The assembled criminals looked up from the floor and saw the bipedal nightmare towering over them. They stood stalk still, not knowing how to react, nor sure what exactly was happening.
Grigory stood up straight and turned on the crowd, in a commanding bellow he condemned them, “What kind of idiots let a master demonologist do any summoning ritual he wants?! Look upon the true power of hell and despair!! Your petty schemes are –”
Grigory’s gloating was cut short by a foundation shaking roar from the demon. It started grabbing people at random, and biting them in half, throwing hunks of torso against the wall with splattering force. In accordance with the note, Grigory’s imp hopped up on the table, grabbed the bar of gold from where Arcanist Devorio put it, and sprinted figure eights between the demon's legs. With everyone’s fear AND greed now focused in the same area, Grigory took his stuff and ran for the door. Most of the so-called ‘demonologists’ were trying to escape, but a few were focused on the imp running with a gold bar held over its head. That was as much as a labourer would make in a year, and they couldn’t just walk away from that. The massive demon continued to kill and dismember with glee. The sound of tearing meat and snapping bones was even louder than the screams of the dying. As far as distractions go, Grigory was pretty proud of this one.
Grigory started for the door they had entered by. However, it was jammed with people trying to escape. He stopped at the edge of the chaos, trying to gather his thoughts. As he did, a better solution appeared to him. The demon grabbed one of the cutthroats that dove at the imp’s gold, and threw him at the wall with enough force to vaporise him. The impact filled the whole side of the warehouse in a steamy red mist, and sprayed meaty chunks over everything. The demon howled with laughter when he saw how people popped when thrown into walls.
The important part for Grigory was that there was now a second exit. An exit covered in gore and bone fragments, but entirely clear of goons. Signalling Stanisk, he made his way out through the wreckage. Slower than he’d like, and getting blood and worse on everything, but a clear path. The demon had stopped feeding entirely and was just throwing people as hard as he could, first at the floor then at other people. Its roars of rage were now peals of terrifying laughter. The air in the warehouse was thick with a mist of blood from the high energy impacts.
“I assume it knows not to kill us?” Stanisk asked in a ragged voice once he caught up to Grigory.
“Yes, but only not to kill people in purple. So don’t take off your tabard! It was the best I could do!”
They struggled out into the cool night air of the yard, free of the stenches of hell, gore and terror.
Stanisk looked down at his tabard, so soaked in fresh blood that it looked black. He ran even faster to the wagon.
“So this thing is just going to destroy the city until someone slays it then?” Stanisk asked, as they ran to the cart while frantically gesturing for his two guards to turn the wagon around and get it rolling.
“Oh no! Just until midnight” Grigory explained after he dove into the moving wagon. He wiped his blood soaked hands on his blood soaked robes, to no benefit.
Stanisk stared backwards at the destruction unfolding behind them. The demon had brought the warehouse down around himself and was clearly visible from the road. It was still energetically killing and smashing. “That's more than an hour! You reckon it’ll come for us?”
The single horse dragging a cargo wagon with four men on it was maddeningly sluggish
Grigory fumbled around for something to get the blood and bone fragments off his glasses. Finally finding part of his undershirt clean, he wiped them and he replied,“Oh my no,It’s bound to the summoning circle. Within a hundred paces.” They both watched as a few people fled on horseback, and a wagon rattled away at a gallop. Mostly it was a mess of shouting and terror. Knife fights broke out as people tried to commandeer the remaining horses. Horses were panicking and bolting without riders. Some survivors just ran away on foot. With every fresh kill the demon laughed so loud that Grigory felt like it was coming from his own skull.
“What the hell happened in there, sirs?” asked the terrified guard driving the cart.
Grigory turned around to answer, but Stanisk put a hand on his arm and answered instead, “Those filthy witches in there tried to kill us with a demon, but Grigory outsmarted them and turned it on its creators. Keep driving Kedril, we should be safe in an intersection or so.”
“Light preserve us all!” Kedril the driver said. “Is that a real demon Sir?”
Grigory watched the demon grab one of the goons fighting in the yard and threw him in a high arc towards the city centre. The demon’s arm cracked like a whip as it threw. The ragged corpse left a trail of blood mist as it arced far overhead.
Grigory answered calmly, “Yes.”
Grigory pulled out his demon totem from his robes, and devoked the imp, causing a gold bar a block and a half behind them to clatter to the blood soaked warehouse floor and slide into some debris. He was surprised how calm he felt. By all accounts his plan was in shambles and he’d stirred up a dozen hornets nests. Facing certain death and prevailing did wonders for one’s perspective.
Grigory looked over at Stanisk, and he was looking less calm. Which was entirely fair. A lot of uniquely horrific things happened tonight. Stanisk’s mouth was a tight line, face pale and eyes bloodshot. That might have just been blood from before, that got in his eyes.
“We can’t go through town looking like we bathed in the blood of the innocent, take us to the Golden Anchor’s warehouse on Glibstone Street. We own that place, we can clean up and change there,” Stanisk tersely told the driver.
Grigory countered, “First off, the previous owners of this blood were far from innocent, and secondly that’s across town, let's just lay in the bed, throw the rainsheet over us, and go to the main workshop.”
Stanisk groaned and tried to rub the blood off his face while he thought it over, but just smeared it around.
“Fine, Kedril, Remember to do a few triple left turns to make sure we aren’t being followed, like we discussed last month.” Stanisk undid the oilcloth on the side, connected it to the mounting points, and slid underneath.
“I think we need to review our plans!” Grigory whispered.
“Shhhh, cargo don’t talk.” Stanisk whispered back. The soldier cupped his head in one hand, and covered his eyes with the other and tried to get comfortable enough to sleep. Grigory rolled onto his back and stared at the cloth in front of his face. He tried not to dwell on the odd whip crack sound coming from behind them, nor the horrified gasps of the two guards on the driver’s bench while he mentally updated his plans.
****
A few hours later Grigory was bathed, wearing fresh clothes and feeling much better. He sat contemplating at the kitchen table in his workshop. He was troubled by what this was going to mean for his business and for himself. Stanisk was still in the tub cleaning up, and the two guards had been dismissed for the night. It was shortly after midnight now, and that meant more to Grigory than it did other nights. He hoped no one innocent died tonight, but he was also a little surprised how little he was bothered by the destruction he unleashed this evening. Considering it was the first time he took another human’s life, albeit indirectly, he expected a stronger emotional response. Part of this was a clear case of kill or be killed. Another part was these people were awful people. Grigory worried this might mean he had more subconscious bias against the value of the lives of the economically disadvantaged, but that’s probably not it. Being biassed against people that were willing to kill him made more sense, but also he knew the coming years mean that will become the same as willing to kill most of the world.
Grigory put on some fresh tea, and set out another cup for Stanisk when he was done washing. He couldn’t shake the feeling that his worst fear, being mad with power and using that power to violently kill everyone he perceived as an enemy, wasn’t as far-fetched as it was before. These were the goons that might have killed his mentor, Archmage Willoford. Avenging a mentor was a reasonable rationale, at least in songs and plays. Grigory knew that wasn’t his motivation tonight. And besides that was the inquisition from the sounds of it, these ones just celebrated his mentor's execution, which isn’t really moral grounds for demonic dismemberment. He also knew he could have summoned a stench demon or a screaming demon, or just non demon based rituals he could have used to escape without violence. He didn’t even offer to bribe them, just straight to violence. Grigory wasn’t sure he liked finding out who he really was when lives were on the line.
His introspection was interrupted by a sound coming from his workshop door, and he sagged with relief when he saw it was just Aethlina. Relief that was short lived, because the questions started immediately.
“I assume you had something to do with the demonic giant that threw seventeen people into the side of the Cathedral of the Light?” the elv asked, without reproach or scorn.
Grigory took a second to answer. “I had something to do with the presence of that demon in our plane of reality. I had a little to do with either the people it chose to throw. Nothing to do with where it chose to throw them nor its accuracy. Interesting it threw them at the Cathedral, you’d think it would have some kinship with the church? They both love burning people.”
“By all accounts the accuracy at least, was excellent. All the bodies hit Cathedral Square. The Cathedral itself requires extensive repairs to the nave, and two flying buttresses collapsed. At least according to the terrified lady I ran into.” Aethlina paused for a few seconds in case Grigory chose to share more details.
Aethlina asked mildly, “How rude of me. I meant to ask, how did your meeting go tonight?”
Stanisk came out from around the partition wearing fresh clothes. “The fucking witches weren’t even witches! They were just shadow blighted gangsters what stole the demonologists reputation! Broke as shit, and twice as dumb!”
Stanisk grabbed a bottle of whiskey off the shelf and sat down at the table, ignoring the cup and the pot of tea. After drinking right from the bottle he continued, “It hit the actual main Cathedral? The one right in the centre of town? That’s like an hour walk from where we were! A catapult wouldn’t have thrown a person half that far!”
“The one and the same, The Grand Ubrafadter’s residence is in that square, so I assume what follows will be the sort of witch hunt the city has never seen before.” Aethlina turned to Grigory, “May I also assume your reasons for staying in the city are weaker and your reasons for leaving are stronger than they were yesterday?“
“There were definitely survivors, and I was introduced by name. I can’t stay here, probably not in the empire at all. I don’t think they know the name of the company, but Stanisk and I were wearing the company’s sigil, so it might not be long for them to work it out.” Grigory rubbed the bridge of his nose without taking off his glasses. “I guess we should start planning our exit immediately.”
In a rare show of emotion Aethlina smiled for a second, “We are leaving on a ship named the Widow’s Remorse, it’s provisioned for us and departs on the morning tide, in about nine hours. The captain agreed to wait until we were in open water to hear our destination. He and his crew also suffer from a rare medical condition where their memory fades entirely anytime they are given a bag of money. The ship can carry thirty-five passengers, so the guards can bring their families. I’ll describe the places I think we should go, after we are in open waters.”
Grigory was both very impressed and a touch alarmed. “Did you know what would happen at that meeting? Did you know what I was walking into?”
“No, I had mistakenly assumed you were on top of that, and took you on your word about them. The odds of them being what you expected were poor. I also had a detailed plan in case they kidnapped you.”
Stanisk burst out laughing, “Imagine if they kidnapped you, Boss! All trussed up like a rotisserie chicken! Hah! I guess I’ll get packed and meet back here to get everything organised! I’ll miss my townhouse, but I’ve had enough of living in Jagged Cove, it's loud and crowded.”
Stanisk stood up, and turned to leave, but paused mid stride. “Miss Aethlina, how big of an investigation do you reckon it’ll be? Reckon they could keep after us after we leave?”
“Likely.There are cases where the inquisition spent entire centuries on the trail of heretics and their descendents. Those heresies were vocally opposing an aspect of doctrine. This may be the first heresy in which a building-sized demon flung citizens into Cathedral Square. I assume yes, they will be interested in following up.”
“Alright, I’ve got an idea that might buy us some time. Grigory, are there any specific numbers that are significant to demons?”
“Um, not actually, but the older texts are filled with references to threes and eights I guess?” Grigory said with a shrug.
“Perfect!” Stanisks' smile strengthened and he turned to Aethlina. “Can you think of eight nobles, eight businessmen, and eight clergy the city would be better off without? Here, write 'em on this!” He slid her a notebook page when she nodded.
Grigory leaned forward,”I’m not sure what you are going for?”
“In the army, there was a famously clever bird that would trick soldiers, called a red heron. We are going to make a whole flock of ‘em!” Stanisk excitedly explained. “Oh, draw a demon circle on this page, doesn’t have to work or anything, like the one from the warehouse”
Grigory began his sketch. “I don’t think red heron is quite right, but I’m catching your drift.”
While they wrote, Stanisk went to the carved chest where all the imp totems for the workshop were stored, and invoked twenty four of them. Taking Aethlina’s list and Grigory’s sketch, he ordered each imp to sprint across town and use hellfire to scorch the circle into the street in front of the home of a specific name.
After the final imp bounded out of the building and was leaping along the rooflines Stanisk returned to his partners. “Now they’ll have too many leads! Hopefully folk see the imps and hellfire, that’ll be even better!”
“We can just outvoke them in an hour or so, that's easy enough. Great idea, Stanisk!” Grigory said cautiously, still thinking through the plan.
“If your big demon didn’t cause a public panic, I can’t imagine a better way to finish the job.” Aethlina replied.
Stanisk smiled and shrugged. “It wasn’t my good looks alone that kept me alive this long! I’ll send some runners to gather the lads and get this show on the road. Human runners I mean!”
Prev and Next

I’m slowly piecing together my workout equipment. I’ve got a bench and adjustable dumbells which I’ve been using consistently for a couple months. I got a great deal on some plate weights and a barbell the other day so I was able to add that. Thing is, I don’t have, and won’t have for the foreseeable future, a rack or a spotter.
I’m definitely not doing bench presses without a spotter. I’ve been doing dumbell bench presses and will keep on with that.
Are squats reasonably safe without a rack/spotter? I feel like no. It’s just too much weight and if I hit failure it’s right above me, right? I’ve been doing dumbell squats which I know aren’t as good but it’s the best I can do now.
Deadlifts are something I can do. And things like barbell curls. Is there an advantage to barbell curls over dumbell curls though?
What are some of the best exercises I can do with a barbell that don’t require a rack or a spotter? I’m going for general strength building and know myself well enough to know I need a variety of exercises to stay interested, so any body part is fair game.

…off of 4 white claws.
4 white claws used to be how I started my night followed by vodka or whisky or wine or whatever the hell I could get my hands on. But last night that’s all I drank and I was fucked up. It was bad. I did everything I did that made me want to stop drinking in the first place.
I embarrassingly texted people I shouldn’t, I bought unnecessary shit off of eBay, I ripped a coat rack off the wall, I guaranteed myself I would have a shitty day at work tomorrow. All the classic alcohol activities that led to me wanting to quit in the first place.
But the thing is I only drank 4 white claws. The fact I drank so little yet got so fucked up made me realize that even if things seem hopeless to me I must be doing something right if so little alcohol is having such a strong effect on me. I’ve drunk way more and gotten less fucked up.
Although I haven’t been able to quit I have been limiting what I do drink the best I can so hopefully I can keep making progress.
That’s about it I just wanted to tell someone about this because I don’t really talk about my alcohol problems to anyone else.

Episode 01: Bigger! Badder! Brutal-er!
The scene faded into a shot of the Earth from space, an astronaut banging on a small communications satellite in the foreground with a wrench. The satellite had the letters 'TDRI' scrawled on the front in black.
"We've been to the movies," the voice of Chris McLean began as the satellite seemed to whir into function, lights on either end of it glowing green. "We've been around the world!" Just as the astronaut gave the camera thumbs-up, the satellite suddenly failed with a jolt of electricity and broke apart, the astronaut palming the visor of their helmet. "And this season," Chris said as the camera rapidly began to zoom in towards northern Canada, "we're going right back where it all began," the camera past through layers of cloud to reach a beautiful morning sky, then panned down to an all-too-familiar island, "at Camp Wawanakwa!"
Chris McLean was already standing just off-center on the dock, right by the 'Wawanakwa' sign – both of which looked like they'd gone through some heavy wear and tear. "I'm Chris Mclean," the host formally introduced himself, "and as you can see, things have changed since we've been away." He walked down the dock to where a male red-shirted intern of southeast Asian descent waited with a coconut drink on a platter; the right side of the camp's sign fell down as he passed by, taking out a small piece of the dock.
"And by changed," the host said with a darkly expectant smile, "I mean gotten really, really, dangerous!" He took the coconut drink from the intern. As soon as he did so a giant pink tentacle rose from the lake with a terrifying roar, and slammed down on the dock – Chris calmly sidestepped it, but the intern and a sizable chunk of the end of the dock were smashed into the water. "Good stuff," the host laughed.
"But the rules of the game remain the same," he told the camera, the scene changing to a panning shot of one of the cabin rooms, a cockroach scurrying over the lens. The room itself looked about the same as it had three seasons ago – decrepit and old-fashioned, but boringly so. "A handful of unsuspecting teens will bunk with complete strangers," Chris explained during the pan, the shot cutting to a stained piece of male underwear nailed to a wooden door that promptly opened to reveal the old outhouse confessional within, "air their dirty laundry in our outhouse confessional, and compete in life-threatening challenges all over the island," the camera cut to a long-distance shot of the thousand-foot-high-cliff, zooming in on the gleamingly jagged rocks in the water below it, "and risk being voted off," Chris continued as the shot cut to the clearing, firepit, oil drum, and eleven stump-seats used for Campfire Ceremonies of the past.
"Last one standing wins," the shot cut from the elimination area to a still image of a wheelbarrow overflowing with money, "one, million, DOLLARS!" A short, grand, and victorious tune blared as the shot zoomed in on the prize money.
"Speaking of our cast," Chris said back on the Dock of Shame as a cool rock theme began to play, "here they are now!"
The shot cut to a small but luxurious red-striped yacht where the twenty-four contestants of the past three seasons could be seen more-or-less enjoying themselves. Brick and Courtney were making out on the starboard side while Ella, Ezekiel, and Sadie danced nearby, Eva looking away from them. On the stern deck, Mike, Owen, and Sky were dancing and Izzy was hanging upside down swinging life rings with Noah watching with disinterest. On a higher sternward balcony, Dawn was meditating, Beth was reading a book, and Cody and Harold played with video game handhelds. Shawn dropped down on the group unexpectedly from even higher up, startling all four. And at the bow, Heather leaned coolly against the port-side railing and smiled at the camera, Topher was looking at his reflection in a mirror, Jo and Lightning arm-wrestled on the railing next to them, Amy and Rodney were dancing to music that Duncan was setting up on his boombox, and Lindsay sat on the very foremost point of the railing posing.
Chris waved at the yacht as it approached...and kept on going, the music scratching to a halt instead of the ship. "NOOOO!" Owen hollered in surprise in anguish as the boat sailed off-screen, and Chris laughed.
"No, not them," he told the camera as it zoomed back in on him. "This season, we've got all new players, fighting for the million!" he announced as the music turned tense and grandiose. "And here they come now, for real!"
The shot cut to another yacht approaching, similar to the last one but with its stripes a pale teal instead of red. Several teens could be standing along the bow, port-side, upper deck, and stern, and the camera cut to those at the head of the ship – Molly and Dave.
"Meet Molly," Chris said, the girl noticing the boy next to her feeling scared.
"What’s the matter? We’re just going to compete where the show started," Molly assured the boy.
"Dave," Chris continued, and the boy blinked.
"Yeah, but I didn't know that the island would consist of toxic waste," Dave told the girl before breaking out the hand sanitizer and rubbing his hands and arms with it, causing the indie girl to raise an eyebrow.
The camera panned to the right to show the next two campers in line – Scott and Trent.
"Scott! And, Trent!" Chris continued.
"Why are you carrying a guitar around?" Scott asked Trent, who was happily tuning up his guitar.
"So I can practice my songs at camp," Trent smiled at the grumpy boy.
"Max!" Chris announced next, the pale boy in question suddenly and without warning popping up between Scott and Trent with enough force to knock the two to the sides with startled cries. From the evil smile he was sporting to the pale skin, everything about him radiated villainy.
"These compestants have no idea what awaits them when we arrive," Max said, speaking darkly as a dark tune played in the background. "For I am the definition of pure evil!" Max degenerated into laughter as the camera panned away from him, showing Leshawna and Sammy, the next contestants.
"Leshawna," Chris introduced the large girl witnessing Max's introduction.
"That boy is not right in the head," Leshawna shook her head with disapproval.
"Sammy," Chris introduced the nervous cheerleader.
"He is a bit free-spirited," Sammy said timidly while holding her left arm.
The camera panned right again to show B. He snapped his fingers for the audience.
"B," Chris finally introduced, "and Scarlett," he added, the camera panning further right to show the girl next to B reading a book.
"You seem confident to be here," Scarlett said dryly without taking her eyes off her book. "Do you know about the substance of toxic waste and radiation?" B nodded in agreement, impressing Scarlett. "That's good to know."
"Katie," Chris continued as the scene cut to a spot further down the yacht, showing the girl holding her tablet.
"Just in," Katie waved pleasantly at the camera. "I'm about to be competing for a million dollars, I-"
As she spoke the camera panned away to Anne Maria spraying her hair.
"Anne Maria," Chris introduced.
"Oh yeah!" Anne Maria looked at the camera. "Three more coats oughta do it."
She was interrupted when Katie walked back into the shot. "Not to be rude," she looked at the camera, "but you panned away before I could finish my introduction."
"Sorry, viral," Anne Maria smirked. "The camera just loves me more."
"Geoff," Chris introduced next as he dashed onto the scene, putting himself next to the two girls.
"Okay, girls," Geoff said in what was a chill tone, "let's not get off on the wrong foot. You'll get more camera time after we're all introduced."
Anne Maria proceeded to spray her hair again, the cloud causing Geoff and Katie to cough profusely.
"Sierra," Chris introduced next, the camera panning up to the girl standing on the upper balcony.
She was hurriedly typing into her phone. "I can't wait to step foot on Camp Wawanakwa and talk about it on my blog!" Sierra said, looking around in amazement until a small flock of pigeons flew past and knocked her over the railing with a scream.
"And DJ," Chris finished as Sierra landed next to the fourteenth and final competitor of the season.
DJ looked down as Sierra landed and gasped. "Oh snap! Let me help you up!" DJ quickly bent down and helped Sierra up. "There you go."
"Yup!" Chris said as the shot cut back to him on the Dock of Shame. "It's our roughest, toughest, most explosive season ever!" He took out a remote control, and pressed the large central button with his thumb.
The yacht that the new contestants were sailing in on suddenly exploded, sending all fourteen of them flying and screaming in every direction.
Chris took a casual sip of his coconut drink, then looked at the camera and raised a finger high. "Right here," he said as a faint version of the series' capstone theme played, "on Total! Drama! Revenge of the Island!" The shot jumped outward as the title was said, showing Wawanakwa island in its entirety with a few plumes of smoke in the distance marking where the yacht had exploded.
xxx
(Fade to Opening Theme)
[The sequence begins much as it did three seasons ago, with an open into letterbox format as the camera focuses on the tops of a few distant pine trees. A rusty stage light rotates up and turns on; then the shot changes to a cobwebby spotlight swinging down and turning on as well; then a small security camera popping out of one of several leaky toxic waste barrels; then another camera bursting out of a tree hollow, held by an octopus tentacle and dislodging a few bones; then a pair of fair-skinned arms clapping a film slate in front of the camera which switches to a shot of the island, briefly showing a giant octopus looking out of the lake to the right, then flying forward down the dock and past the buildings, passing under a totem pole that Chris was sitting on and which was being carried by a trio of male interns of mismatched heights.]
Dear Mom and Dad, I'm doin' fine;
[The camera rapidly flies through the trees as the lyrics begin, quickly reaching the top of the thousand-foot-high cliff.]
You guys are on my mind!
[It looks down at the ring of buoys in the water below and dives, immediately cutting to an underwater view as the bubbles disperse to reveal Sammy gagging with several vicious-looking fish watching her hungrily until a claw-like machine grabbed her and pulled her up to the surface.]
You asked me what I wanted to be,
And now I think the answer is plain to see!
[Up in a canoe, B tinkered with the machine, and looked up as it pulled Sammy out of the water and into the sky.]
I wanna be...famous!
[The scene lingers on Sammy in front of the sun for a moment, then quick-pans left to Katie in the middle of the woods posing as she is filming herself; a falling Sammy abruptly hits her on the back and knocks both to the ground. Katie lifts her head to look at the cheerleader, who just smiles bashfully. Geoff runs past them as the camera pans left to Sierra sitting on a tree branch and texting on her phone. Gophers suddenly pop up from the ground and roar, causing Sierra to flee.]
I wanna live close to the sun!
[At the top of a waterfall, Molly and Trent float downriver in a canoe. Trent was playing a song on his guitar, to which Molly was vibing to until she finally spotted the waterfall. Both screamed as they went over the edge.]
Well pack your bags, 'cause I've already won!
[The camera pans down to DJ, balancing a log on his finger. Though he does not see the canoe falling behind him, he does see Molly and Trent as they fall right on top of him, breaking the log he was holding onto and sending all three into the water.]
Everythin' to prove, nothin' in my way;
[Scott is laughing at the three's misfortune, and a monstrous shark with arms and legs bursts out of the outhouse with a toothy grin, making Scott run away.]
I'll get there one day.
[The camera pans to the Mess Lodge, Chef Hatchet's silhouette visible in the window. Zooming in to the room shows him stirring a pot of some greenish slop with a dark grin, and the shot pans over to show Max cackling wickedly until Chef shoves a spoon full of slop into his mouth.]
'Cause I wanna be...famous!
[Another pan to the left reveals Anne Maria spraying her hair. Once she realized she was being recorded, she glared at the camera and sprayed it with her can. The spray cloud moves the scene out of the lodge and into the beach, where Scarlett is calmly reading her book – until a hawk flew right in just to snag it and flew away, much to Scarlett's unamusement.]
(Na-na nanananaa, nanana-nanaa, na-nananananaa)
[The camera pans away from Scarlett and on to Dave applying hand sanitizer. A furry hand taps him on the shoulder, distracting the germaphobe and allowing the arm to snatch away the sanitizer. Dave realizes what's happened, and rushes angrily at the large hairy ape-man now using the hand sanitizer.]
I wanna be! I wanna be! I wanna be famous! (Na-na nanananaa, nanana-nanaa, na-nananananaa)
[The camera pans down to the end of the dock to show Leshawna, blowing a kiss before taking a few steps back. She busts out a few dance moves of her own.]
I wanna be! I wanna be! I wanna be famous! (Na-na nanananaa, nanana-nanaa, na-nananananaa)
[A sudden splash of water comes down on the sista, interrupting her dancing and causing her to send a frown upward – Chris is hovering above him in a jetpack and helmet, holding an empty bucket. He drops the bucket then flies off, the flames from his jetpack taking over the screen. It becomes night as they peter out, and the camera pans down across the stars and treetops and full moon to Anne Maria and Geoff sitting at a campfire together. As they lean towards each other with expectant smiles they are interrupted and separated by Chef Hatchet, wearing a hazmat suit and holding a glowing green marshmallow between them with a pair of heavy tongs.
The shot zooms out to show the rest of the cast looking shocked, whistling the last few notes of the song – Trent, Leshawna, B, Scott, Dave, and Katie on Anne Maria's side; Max, Sammy, Molly, Scarlett, DJ, and Sierra on Geoff's side; and Chris standing next to Chef on Geoff's side as well. The shot continued to zoom out until a signboard was shown marking the presumed entrance to the fire pit; it read 'TOTAL DRAMA REVENGE OF THE ISLAND' in block letters, the third word being the largest and the last word relegated to a board tacked on at the end.]
XXXXX
"AAAAHHH!" Max screamed, the episode fading in to him landing hard on a rock jutting out of the water. "Why must a villainous mastermind suffer like this?" he groaned, pitifully sliding into the water as Anne Maria swam past in the background.
"Chris is so getting a beatdown for this!" Anne Maria said to herself.
Sammy was shown swimming by clinging to a piece of driftwood, then looking to the side at the sound of someone coming up behind her. "Sorry about this!" Trent shouted as he shot past like a torpedo.
The camera followed Trent as he swam past Molly. "There is a thing called open space!" Molly said before continuing her swim.
The shot cut back to Max, now flailing his arms as he struggled not to drown. "Spaz," Scott said as he swam past him.
Max finally sank below the water, but fortunately Scarlett quickly swam over and dived down.
"I pity you, and I also don't want you dead," Scarlett informed as she surfaced, pulling a coughing Max back up with her.
"Get me to land now!" Max demanded.
The camera cut to Geoff. He reached another rock jutting out of the water and pulled himself up onto it. "Okay. How am I gonna get myself to shore?" The party guy then saw a long piece of wood shaped like a surfboard and grabbed it. "I think I know what to do!"
Positioning himself on the rock while laying belly first on the wood, Geoff boosted himself off the rock and rocketed through the water, even managing to get up and maintain himself.
The shot cut to Scarlett helping Max swim to shore, only for a surfing Geoff to unknowingly splash water onto the both of them, causing them to fall under the water.
Leshawna sputtered as she sank and struggled to stay afloat. "I don't think I can stay up for much longer!"
"I'm on it!" DJ and Katie said, appearing out of nowhere and swimming to the girl.
"Oops. You can go first. Sorry if I interrupted," Katie apologized.
"No no. You can go instead. I think it was the other way around," DJ offered.
"Well, I mean, if you insist," Katie chuckled until the hand of Leshawna held onto Katie's head for support, dragging her down.
DJ panicked. "Hang on! I'm coming!" He dived down and got both Leshawna and Katie, the former spitting out water.
"If we weren't in water right now, I'd be tweeting about you saving me," Katie commented.
Confessional: DJ
"So this is my first confessional," DJ opened while looking around the outhouse confessional. "I've watched the first season, and this is where the contestants come in to talk about their feelings or strategy or whatnot."
"We're all newcomers here, so if I see anyone struggling, I'll be there to help them out," he continued with a smile before frowning. "Right after I get used to this island first."
Confessional: Katie
"Hello," Katie said in the next confessional to her tablet. "This is the first time I am in the Total Drama confessional. It's a little disgusting, but that's for another time!" She continued with her perky smile and put her tablet away. "I came onto this show in order to promote my vlogging expertise and gain more followers. I'm a bit of an advice guru, so don't be surprised if I have a solution for some sticky situations." She laughed blissfully. "That was so alliterative!"
Confessionals End
The footage resumed with a rather wet Trent on shore. He looked around, then cheered in victory. "Yes! I'm first!" he cheered. "And my guitar is in one piece-"
His face dropped as he looked to his left, and the camera panned to show Sierra fixing her wet hair.
"How did you get here before us?" Trent asked.
"I practiced swimming back home in case we have a beach episode," Sierra explained happily.
Dave was the next to come to shore, crawling out of the water. "I'm here!" he panted before falling on his face.
Confessional: Dave
Dave squirted hand sanitizer on his hands, and set his pocket-sized bottle aside on the seat, beginning to rub his hands together to spread the cleaning product. "How did I not read my contract fully? I never would've signed up if I had known how unclean the environment was gonna be."
Confessional Ends
B and Max were the next to make it to dry land, the quiet genius dragging the super villain up the beach on his head with the super villain coughing out water.
Confessional: Max
"I do not like yachts, so it was very enjoyable to have it be destroyed," Max grinned. "I just wish it was me who blew the yacht up instead of being on the receiving end like those other fools," he complained briefly.
"I guarantee you, everybody will be frightened by my abnormally large brain and my super advanced hearing. No one has ever, ever been able to sneak up on me!" he declared confidently just as an orange butterfly flew over him. It landed on his head...and with a sickening bone-crunch, Max started to tilt over. "Begone, brutal butterfly!" he cried in pain, falling over onto the seat under the butterfly's weight.
Confessional Ends
The footage cut back to the beach, showing Trent, Sierra, Dave, B, and Max loitering around a large rock further up the beach and revealing that Scott, Scarlett, Anne Maria, Sammy, Molly, Leshawna, Katie, and DJ had all made it to shore as well.
"This is preposterous!" Max ranted, pouring water out of his shoe. "I am not to be treated with disrespect! Chris will rue the day he met Max Mayhem!"
Molly was sitting next to Max and listening without a care. "Is your last name actually Mayhem? If it's not, I'd respect you for creating your own nickname."
Max was about to answer, but a wave and a dramatic riff signaled that another person had washed up.
It was Geoff, who coughed out a small fish.
Confessional: Geoff
"I wiped out for a while," Geoff confessed. "I’m more into parties and having a good time. As long as I get along with everyone and not be harsh, I can last up to the tenth or eleventh episode."
Confessional Ends
"I can't believe we were blown up before we even got on the island," Sammy said, Katie sitting near her. "I've been watching Total Drama for a while, and I can't even tell what's going to happen next," she looked at the girl.
"It's not your fault. None of us can look into the future," Katie told her before looking at her tablet. "Katchy Katie here, and so far, the island is looking pretty bland," she told her viewers.
"Katchy Katie?" Sammy wondered. "What's that about?"
"That's just my vlog name," Katie explained. "I usually record what's going on in my life so I can tell my viewers what to do and not what to do."
"Could you send me a link to your vlog?" Sammy asked the influencer. "It sounds interesting."
Katie gave a slip of paper with her name on it to Sammy. "Here you go. It's best to always keep track of what you see and know on paper so you won't forget in the future."
"Attention, fresh meat!" Chris announced, the shot cutting to a pair of loudspeakers on a tree nearby, then panning down and right to show that all fourteen campers were now waiting around on the rocky beach. "See that trail leading into the forest?" the host continued, the camera following the contestants' gazes right as they looked at where the beach, trees, and rocks met. "Race to the end of the trail," Chris commanded, "and do not disturb the wildlife! That would be bad."
"Does he seriously think that will frighten us?" Scarlett blew him off.
"The tiniest sound can set them off," Chris continued. "Liiike...THIS!" He blew an airhorn over the intercom, forcing all fourteen campers to cover their ears.
The camera panned over to the distant treetops on the left, the airhorn fading in to a loud, terrifying roar that startled a flock of birds to flight. The music became tense as one tree was knocked over, then another closer to the beach. Finally, the cast screamed and fled into the woods.
\
A clock wipe transitioned the footage ahead to an adorable little purplish bird singing on a branch...until a frog-like tongue snapped out of a hollow behind it and dragged the bird into darkness.
The camera panned down to a finish line, just as Geoff and DJ ran past it with the brickhouse in the lead. "Alright! First place!" DJ turned to the party guy. "Don't worry. Second's not that bad."
"I know," Geoff smiled. "I don't get why people are worked up over it though."
It was then that Chris rode up on a red ATV, his usual smile on his face. "Party Time, two steps left. You're on Team A," he directed, Geoff nodding happily and walking a few steps back towards the finish line. "Big Friendly Giant? Move right. You're on Team B," he told DJ, directing him to the right; he complied just as Scott crossed the finish line, skidding to a stop next to Geoff.
"Pit Sniffer," the host told him, "you're on Team A." Molly slid in next. "Free Spirit, Team B," Chris told her.
"Alright then," Molly said with a smile and ran off to the right. B stopped running and came to a halt.
"Silent Treatment, Team A," Chris told him, causing him to give his signature greeting to Geoff and Scott before Trent arrived. "Guitar Hero, Team B," Chris told him.
"Okay!" Trent went to his designated team.
Sammy and Katie arrived next, the nervous cheerleader bending over to catch her breath and the influencer clutching her chest. "Sour Sport. Team A. Perky Influencer. Team B," Chris said.
"I'm not that bad," Sammy mumbled while Katie ran to her team.
"Blogspot, Team A," Chris continued over a shot of Sierra running and stopping at her team. Dave arrived next. "Germ Avoider, Team B."
The camera zoomed out a little ways from Team A just as Leshawna ran up, panting and out of breath.
"Loud and Proud, Team A," Chris said. "Tan in a Can, Team B," Chris continued as Anne Maria arrived, walking rather than running.
"I'm… so… tired!" Max moaned while dragging himself through the floor.
"Maniacal Max, Team A," Chris directed. As Max joined his teammates they all looked back towards the finish line, with Scarlett simply walking to the finish.
"Aaand Quiet Genius, Team B," Chris finished with a smile.
"What was that thing in the forest?" Sierra said, trudging past her teammates.
"I'm pretty sure that cry does not sound like any normal animal," Trent added.
"Relax, it'll all make sense eventually," Chris explained, his impish smile quickly degenerating into long, evil laughter that caused the two teams to stare at him and look at each other in awkward, nervous confusion.
Chris finally stopped laughing, and wiped a tear from his eye. "Now, this season of Total Drama will be a little bit different," he explained. "For example, in every episode, someone will be eliminated."
The campers gasped, and an ominous chant played in the background. "It's never been that hard before," Sammy remarked in shock.
"I know," Chris told her with a smug grin, "I'm good. But since you're all first-timers, I'm gonna cut you a break and hide this bad boy somewhere in the campgrounds." He held up what appeared to be a small wooden carving of his head, and the shot cut in for a close-up. "A genu-ine McLean Brand Chris Head! Your free ticket back into the game!" The small carving was shown against a radiant white and blue background, an angelic chorus playing as images of Chef Hatchet dressed in a lavender leotard and tutu, angel wings, and a halo flew into the corners of the screen while holding harps and singing.
"Even if your teammates vote you off," he added as B and Geoff were shown staring with wide eyes. "Whoever finds it," Chris continued over a shot of DJ, Dave, Scarlett, and Molly also watching with wide eyes, "will become the most powerful player in Total Drama history!" Both Sierra and Max were shown smiling in awe.
The angelic chorus ended as Chris brought the statue in for a closer look. "Is the cleft on my chin really that big?" he asked in concern.
"Yep, and it looks like a butt," Scott answered, earning an annoyed glare from the host.
"Moving on," Chris said forcefully, "time for the team names!"
"I hope the names won't be stupid!" Molly immediately said. "I don't want to be defined by a name like the Silly Bunnies?"
"You got that right Molly," Chris told her, "The names have been chosen by moi. Team A, you shall henceforth be known as, the Toxic Rats!" A short but energetic riff played as the screen switched to a green, red, and yellow starburst-patterned background, a green logo spinning up to the front. It bore the image of a six-limbed rat standing up on its hindlegs and bearing its teeth menacingly.
The Toxic Rats stared blankly for a moment before Max laughed and said "How evil!"
"And Team B," Chris continued, turning his head to the other six, "you are hereby dubbed, the Mutant Maggots!" A different energetic theme played as a teal, yellow, and orange sunburst-patterned background took over the screen, and a red logo spun up to the front. This one depicted the head of a three-eyed maggot, its mouth frozen in a gaping hiss.
The Mutant Maggots stared blankly for a second as well. "What's with all the chemical waste references?" Dave asked.
The perspective switched to a group shot as another loud roar shook the area. "It's the monster!" Anne Maria shouted in terror, making the others look around in shock.
The shot cut to some distant trees, a flock of birds flying away as one fell, then the camera panned to the right as another closer tree fell. Dave, DJ, and Katie gasped in fear, the brickhouse quickly grabbing the influencer's arm for comfort, and the camera zoomed in on a bush in front of the last fallen tree.
A small hairless squirrel with big yellow eyes jumped out and looked around.
"So we panicked over a small squirrel?" Scarlett said in disbelief.
"Aww, it's kinda cute!" DJ gushed...until it blinked sideways, and he cringed audibly.
"What happened to it?" Katie asked from off-screen as the squirrel happily blinked and looked around some more.
"While we were gone," Chris explained, "I rented the island out to a nice family-oriented biohazardous waste disposal company." As he spoke, the camera cut to a pile of oil barrels stashed in and around a tree. All of the barrels had a hazard sign on them, and most were leaking some sort of foul bubbling green liquid. "Sweet people," the host remarked.
"But," he added as the focus cut back to him on his ATV, "the waste is having a teensy bit of an impact on the flora and fauna." The hairless squirrel was shown again, blinking as a monarch butterfly flew close to it. It snapped out its tongue like a frog, and swallowed the butterfly up.
"This may be odd, but that squirrel is cool!" Geoff said with a grin as Max and Sammy gave him odd looks.
"You know," Leshawna said, cautiously approaching it with a smile on her face, "it looks weird but I'm sure it's perfectly harmless! Am I right?" She reached out to pet it, and it roared the same deep and terrifying roar that had scared them all earlier, then shot lightning from its eyes at the ground Leshawna was standing on. Leshawna screamed and ran away, and the squirrel blew her a raspberry before hopping back into the bush.
Chris was laughing hysterically as the shot cut to Leshawna jumping into the arms of a surprised Geoff in fear. The camera cut back to Chris as he stopped laughing, then in an elated and dramatic tone said "Most. Danger. Ev-er~!" as an equally sharp and dramatic tune played.
Confessional: Leshawna
"That guy is some kind of crazy," Leshawna confessed to the outhouse camera in outrage. "Adding toxic waste to the island? That's gotta be a criminal offense if it endangers us."
Confessional Ends
"Now," Chris said with a wide smile as the scene cut back to him once again, "before we start our very first challenge of the season, let's give out some rewards. DJ," he turned to the left, "because you made it up here before anyone else, your team gets a trampoline!" A grand tune played as the shot cut to a close-up of the trampoline, and moments later Chef Hatchet bounced down upon it. "And the Rats, get a hacksaw," Chris added, the shot cutting upwards to show his glowering assistant holding the tool in question.
Chef suddenly lost his balance and fell with a crash; Max laughed and had the hacksaw thrown at his head for it; and Scarlett silently laughed too, and in turn got crushed by the trampoline that was thrown at her, making her groan in pain.
"What do these items have to do with this bomb?" Chris asked, holding up a square of plastic explosives with a wireless timed detonator attached to it.
"Uhh, he's not gonna blow us up again, is he?" Trent nervously asked an equally nervous Scarlett.
"Who knows," Chris said with a sly smile, leaning in between the two with the bomb. "Find out when we come back!"
(Fade to Commercial)

First time poster usually just commenter.
I do have a job lined up on the 13th so don't fret.
But my rant and vent is I was laid off from January 29th till April 3rd. I have a home bills toddler etc so it was a struggle losing my remote job to needing childcare asap and being broke. Luckily was able to secure voucher for daycare but having a Autistic toddler that was even more stressful actually finding a place that he'd be comfortable at with a lot of patient people since a big change.
Now the last two weeks I was off from New job due to toddler sick and then myself the next. So racked up points at new job and ofc being in probation didn't help. I was informed I was to be on my best attendance wise or terminated next. Okay. Totally understandable. Well today toddler had a MELTDOWN to the point he threw up. Well I made sure to help him regulate before school and was trying to contact my mom to make she was up if I had to take him there instead. Well he decided he wanted to go to school(brought me his backpack and shoes- non speaking currently). Well by then it's part my clock in so I knew I was toast.(let supervisor know situation as soon as it happened) Got him settled and in daycare.
Then ofc I was called back and informed I was terminated. Blah. I never was this employee until I became a parent and now once I'd gone back to in office setting it went to shit so fast, im thankful i have the remote job starting but i wasnt planning on now lossing more time from not working anf more money.
Credit cards and loan options and borrowing from family Is maxed out and idk wtf I'm going to do. My partner is also already catching up from being laid off and me with only unemployment from lay off were super behind.
I'm currently denied for plasma donating due to meds. And on instacart and doorsash wait lists. I'm ubering but it's just not popular here. Or hardly covers gas some days. I just need other legit quick cash options even if it helps cover gas and pet food. I still have leftover food stamps and WIC for a bit of help and food banks but cash is still king and in short supply.
Tldr, I'm broke jobless and lost.

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AUS 

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​

CAN 

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• CAN-TO - HPE Proliant ML350p Gen8 + 13TB (6 Drives)
  
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ON

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OTTAWA

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PT

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• Dell R640 for sale
  
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W

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WI

• Supermicro CSE-826, Eaton 5P750RC, Supermicro 1U Chassis, Cisco Switch, Rails
  
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​

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• Lenovo Tiny M920q i5 for Firewall Plex and HP Mini Prodesk G5 i5
  
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SWFL

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​

US-W 

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• Ubiquiti Networks USW-XG-24
  
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NV

• 2x UAP-AC-PRO

OR

• Lenovo ThinkStation P360 Tiny, Ryzen 7 5700G, Fractal Design Node 804, Zyxel XGS1010-12 Switch, Silverstone SG13 Mini ITX, Noctua and Cooler Master CPU Coolers

US

• PowerEdge R630 - 128GB

UT

• Intel Xeon E-2378G - 8C/16T - Factory Sealed - LGA-1200
  
• Supermicro SC745 - 20C/40T - 128GB DDR4 ECC RDIMM
  
• Ubiquiti Edge Router Infinity
  

WA

• UDM, AC-HD 5 Pack, Lenovo Thinkpads (T470p, T480), Mac mini, Minnowboard, misc transceivers
  
• Samsung 16gb DDR4 ram
  

WA-OLYMPIA

• Dell/APC 24U Enclosed Server Racks and PDUs

I have two years to prep for the PJ pipeline. I am currently a sophomore, but today is our last day of school so I’ll be a junior. I have a pool, a bench, and a squat rack. I plan on getting a weighted vest to go on runs with. I am currently 5’7 and 126 lbs. I know i’m a puny kid, but I’m working on that. I plan to be at 150 lbs by the end of summer and then 180 lbs by the end of senior year.
Anyone have any tips to help me get bigger and stronger along with preparing myself mentally for the pipeline? I am very aware of how difficult the pipeline is not only physically, but mentally. I also want to get really confident in water because I’ve heard that’s where everyone fails. So if anyone has any tips for that it would also be appreciated.

The draft is less than 3 weeks away, and as the draft approaches, we'll get an increasingly clearer idea of what will happen this offseason. So, while we still don't know what will happen try to predict the 2023 offseason. For reference, here's what we did last offseason according to Basketball Reference:
Trades:

1. Traded Jerami Grant, pick #46 to Portland for Milwaukee's 2025 1st, pick #36, 2025 2nd, 2026 2nd
2. Traded Milwaukee's 2025 1st to New York for the draft rights to Jalen Duren, Kemba Walker
3. Traded Nikola Radičević's draft rights, Detroit's 2025 2nd to New York for cash, Alec Burks, Nerlens Noel, Detroit's 2023 2nd, 2026 2nd
4. Traded cash, Saben Lee, Kelly Olynyk to Utah for Bojan Bogdanovic

Draft: #5: Jaden Ivey, #13: Jalen Duren, #36: Gabriele Procida
Free Agency: Signed Kevin Knox and Rodney McGruder
This offseason we will have $27,979,371 in cap space if we draft at #5 and #31. In terms of draft capital, we have pick #5 and #31 and 2nds from other teams but we can't trade any future 1sts due to New York having our protected 1st.
Here's my prediction:
Trades:
https://preview.redd.it/qgzivffttl3b1.jpg?width=1287&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=aba3fed28b8dac246d195f0e119f58614eeb8398
I predict we make 1 trade, a 3-team trade with New York and Dallas. For New York, they'll turn Evan Fournier into Bojan, and 3 2nds for future trades. Going from Evan Fournier to Bojan would be great for them, they lost to the Eastern Conference champions in 6 games in the second round, and with Bojan added to their roster they'd have a better shot at making the conference finals next year. Washington's 2024 2nd is going to be good as Washington is likely to be worse next year than they were this year (for reference, their 2nd this year is pick #37.)
For Dallas, they'd get a young center that still has some potential, Burks, their 2024 1st, and pick #31. Their own 1st next year could be used in future trades. Pick #31 is a good spot to select a player like James Nnaji who could be a solid selection for a team that needs bigs.
We'd be giving up Bojan, Burks, Wiseman, pick #31, and 3 future 2nds for #10 and our own protected 1st back. #10 could be used to select a long-term piece, which will fit the long-term focus the front office has considering the length of Monty's contract. We have to get our protected 1st back if we want to ever trade future 1sts, which will happen if we ever want to trade for a star. This would make us worse next year but would help us in the long term. Fournier's contract is only 1 year since year 2 is a team option, and Bertans's contract is only $5 million next year.
Draft: #5 Ausur Thompson, #10 Leonard Miller
Ausur Thompson would be great for the team defensively, and he's a good playmaker too which will be important in Monty's offensive scheme. The biggest problem with Ausur is his 3pt shooting, but he's improved a lot over the course of the past year and he'll get a lot more open shots with Cade and Ivey setting him up than he did in OTE.
Leonard Miller has great size for somebody who is currently playing SF, he measured in at 6' 9.25'' without shoes at the combine (6th tallest height at the draft combine). He's a great rebounder, he averaged 11 rebounds per game this season including 3.3 offensive rebounds per game. He's not a great shooter but has improved this season. He can become a much better player with an NBA training staff helping him put on weight as he only measured in at 212.8 pounds at the combine.
Free Agency:
The trade mentioned before, combined with selecting at #5 and #10 would leave us $32,368,568 in cap space. With that money, I predict we'd sign Jerami Grant to a 4 year, $120 million deal. This is an overpay, but not much of one considering Portland already offered him a 4 year, $112 million extension. Cade, Ivey, and Duren are all under rookie deals for a couple more seasons so our roster will be cheap so it's not that big of a deal if we pay Jerami $2 million more per season than another team would. The setup of the contract would make the deal better over time as it'll be a flat contract and the salary cap increases each season.
It looks like Portland is looking to trade for Pascal Siakam so Jerami may be looking for a new team, and with the Monty hire, Ivey and Duren on the roster, and year 3 Cade Cunningham we are a much more attractive destination then we were when Jerami was traded 1 year ago. Jerami would be a great 3rd option on our team, as he's played as a 3rd option very well in Portland scoring 20.5 points per game, shooting 40.1% from 3 on 5.7 attempts per game, and while being a good defender.
For our own free agents, I predict we re-sign Hamidou and Cory Joesph to league-minimum contracts.
And, our last signing will technically be a trade as we'd have to send a 2nd to the Kings for his draft rights. That player is 2023 Euroleague MVP Sasha Vezenkov. He's a 6'9" PF who's a good shooter, he shot 39.8% from 3 on 5.2 attempts per game in the Euroleague and he's a good rebounder and decent defender too. He averaged 26.8 points per game during EuroBasket 2022, which is more than Luka averaged. He also led EuroBasket 2022 with 12.2 rebounds per game. He'll only be 28 to start next season, so if he works out he could be a solid medium-term player for us.
The Lineup:

Cade	Ivey	Ausar	Grant	Duren
Hampton	Fournier	Leonard	Vezenkov	Stew

Cade, Ivey, Ausar, and to a lesser extent Duren are all solid to good playmakers, and Grant has the reputation of being a good scorer so our pass-heavy offense should work well. As I mentioned before, Grant will be the 3rd option, with Ivey as the 2nd option, and Cade as the 1st option. Defensively, an Ausar, Grant, and Duren frontcourt would be quite good, too. Cade, Ivey, and Grant all have the potential to average 20 points per game, but it's the bench that's the problem offensively.
I think we'll make RJ Hampton the backup PG over Killian because RJ is a much better shooter than Killian and we'd need shooting on the bench. Fournier has had a bad couple of years, but he could be a decent bench guy since there isn't the Boston/New York media to criticize every missed shot and error he makes so he should be under much less pressure. We would still have a lot of holes on our roster and a lot of moves to make, but we won't go from worst in the league to championship contenders over 1 offseason.

So, today I decided I’ve had enough of being old, fat, ugly and weak. I can’t do much about old and ugly, and fat, well, I’ve been trying for 30 years to not be that and so far, not a lot of success there (damn you, Cheetos, wine and ice cream!) However, maybe I can do something about being weak because, in the last few years, I’ve become as weak as alcohol-free beer, and getting off the couch is becoming a 2-person job.
So, trusting Google to have my back (wrong!), I picked the first result for “beginner weight training” and came up with this one.
On first glance, it looks okay, although the girl in the video seems to be lifting her own weight with those giant barbells. No worries, I’ve got some 5 pound ones so I’ll just ignore the video, where those barbells are probably inflatable. You’re not fooling me, lady.
First exercise is chest presses on a bench - hey, I’ve got one of those which, years ago, I bought and studiously avoided using. First things first, lie on your back on the bench. Guess what I can’t figure out how to do? First of all, I’ve got my butt in the wrong spot and my head is dangling off the thing. And it actually took a lot of effort to even lie down on the thing, with non-existent ab muscles and trying to hold onto my weights at the same time. After a ridiculous amount of effort where I’m already sweating, I manage to get into place and it goes okay, I guess. Turns out I dragged that freaking heavy weight bench out of the back room for nothing - just one exercise. I should have read ahead. I could have done this one on the floor, although getting off the floor probably wouldn’t have gone much better.
Next is the row, which thankfully is standing up. I’m sure my posture is nothing like hers, but at least it didn’t seem too hard.
Next - shoulder press. I vaguely remember joining a gym and the machine for shoulder presses didn’t actually have a low enough weight for powerless me. I had to take all the weights off the machine and just raise the bar, and even that was tough. Sure enough, 5 pounds is too much for me, and next time, I’ll just wear a couple of bracelets for that exercise.
Next - weighted lunges. Here’s where it gets truly ugly. At least I was smart enough to realize that doing lunges with weights is going to be a no-go for my crappy knees, so I try the lunges without weights. Of course, this makes me think - hmmm, perhaps I should put some shoes on for this, so I go digging in the storage room for some old runners and find my ancient tennis shoes - so that’s where my orthotics went - score! So, after nearly putting out my back putting on the running shoes, I’m ready. I head into my first lunge and realize, hey, my legs aren’t strong enough to get me back up out of this position. I basically had to fall onto the ground to get out of my “lunge”. After that, I did a few very shallow lunges and realized is going to be a while before I’m doing anything that resembles what the girl in the video is doing.
Finally, we have squats. Having learned that shallow is the way to go when starting out with this stuff, I did a few shallow squats while proudly holding 5 pounds. I’m not going to say they were perfect, but I’m going to keep up with those, because that move will be very handy the next time I go to France or Italy. Like, come on, Europe - get with modern toilets! On the Amalfi coast (I’m not making this up), I went to a public bathroom once where they charged 2 Euros just to get in, and if you want a toilet with a seat, you could rent a seat for another 2 Euro. I shit you not (literally). And in France, what they called the public bathroom in Les Baux de Province was actually just a hole in the floor. I assume French ladies are wearing skirts with no underpants because otherwise, I have no idea how you’re supposed to protect your clothing from that operation.
Anyways, I made it through the little work-out and actually added some bicep and tricep curls because I was feeling pretty buff after all that. I’m going to try to do this 3 times a week. I expect my resolve will evaporate around the 3rd time but who knows? Maybe I’m on the road to be old, fat, ugly and strong!

PART EIGHT HUNDRED AND THIRTY-NINE
[Previous Chapter] [The Beginning] [Patreon+2]
Friday
A few minutes later, the front door to the living apartment opened, and both men slipped inside as if they were wayward teenagers coming home after curfew rather than adult men returning home. Both had their shoes in one hand and, while Boyd cautiously closed the door behind them, Lucas crept into the living area to search for any sign of an ambush from their fellow roommates. Too many of them knew about Lucas’ proposal plans (that is: Robbie would’ve told everyone by now), and they wanted to spend the rest of the night alone instead of facing a detailed inquisition by the name of Charlotte.
The TV was on, and some of the ironing was hanging up, which meant Robbie was around somewhere. Also, Lucas saw Sam’s office door firmly closed with the light illuminating the bottom edge. The rest of that side’s hallway had their lights out. Without looking over his shoulder, Lucas gestured for Boyd to follow him in but to be quiet doing so.
He felt Boyd’s hand slide into his, and the pair snuck down the corridor, pausing at each bedroom on the off-chance that someone was awake on the other side and just about ready to step out. He heard Ben snuffling at the gap under the door and slid his fingers through for the Rottweiler to smell who was there. “It’s just us, boy,” he whispered quietly. “Go back to bed.”
The Rottweiler whined and then padded away.
There was no movement whatsoever from Brock’s room, and once they passed Robbie and Charlotte’s door, it was a straight line to their bedroom, and the pair hurried the short distance with Boyd shutting the door firmly behind them.
Lucas made quick work of his jacket and shirt but caught the hmph of surprise uttered by his fiancé. “What?” he demanded, removing the badge from his belt with one hand while the other worked the buckle.
“Robbie’s upgraded our room,” Boyd answered, stepping aside to point out the sleek metal rectangle that was attached to the door. “I’ve never needed a lock before now, but I guess he’s getting ahead on the inevitability of Sam’s little brothers and sister getting curious.”
“Bullshit!” Lucas snorted, dropping the belt and badge on top of his shirt and jacket on the floor. “That’s not for the kids. That’s to stop Charlotte from busting in here and giving us the third degree.”
“But check this out. The design’s so damned simple.” He flipped the metallic handle until it curled in on itself and locked against the inward swinging door. “That’s it. The only way that door opens now is if we flip this back out like that.” He made a show of pulling it the reverse way so that it tucked flush against the wall. “It’s a super latch.”
“Wonderful,” Lucas grumped, then pushed himself between Boyd and the door and locked it once more without ever looking at it. “Now,” he said, grabbing the hem of his fiancé’s shirt and hauling it over his head. “Where were we?”
* * *
Robbie sat cross-legged in the middle of his bed with a huge smile on his face as the tumbler to the living apartment’s front door barely made a sound, and two of the larger men in the apartment (next to Llyr) tried to slip through the apartment undetected. He’d already heard/felt them in the hallway outside between the studio to the living apartment when he and Sam had been passing the time watching TV (with Charlie passed out on the couch under the fish tank).
After silently shoving Sam’s shoulder, Sam launched himself to his feet and realm stepped away, probably to his room, while he pounced on Charlie.
Despite the lateness of the hour, she’d tried to wait up for her brother, determined to hear how it went. Robbie was just as adamant that that wouldn’t happen, and before she was fully awake, he abandoned his ironing, scooped her out of the couch in a bridal carry, and realm stepped into their bedroom. From there, he dropped his weight into the middle of their bed and positioned her with her back to his front. He grew extra limbs to hold her perfectly still, with another hand over her mouth for silence.
“Ssshhhhh,” he shushed as she squirmed and screeched into his hand, growing in volume when even she heard her brother and his fiancé creeping down the corridor and disappearing into their room. He nuzzled her neck through her hair to distract her. “This is their night, and it went well.”
Charlie nipped his hand, then turned in his arms when he loosened them. “How do you know?” she huffed once he freed her mouth. “What if Lucas is just feeling horribly dejected and not realising that the best thing for him right now is family?”
“Because they didn’t plod their way through the apartment like the world was going to end, and they didn’t go into separate rooms. You know as well as I do that they want privacy, Missy-Mo, and you’re going to give that to them, even if I’ve got to wear you out first before I get back to the ironing.”
Charlie twisted until she faced him. “What a hard life you lead.”
His grin was instantaneous, and he waggled his eyebrows for good measure. “I know, right?”
* * *
Hours later, Boyd searched through his studio’s storage room for the perfect timber options. He himself was leaning heavily into snakewood, but he wanted Lucas to have the final say and brought out both cubes of timber for him to choose from.
Thankfully, he decided the dark brown, nearly black grain of the Lignum Vitae would look too much like a thick O-ring that his sister had plenty of in her garage. By contrast, the snakewood had a rich red base spotted with dark red splotches that gave it its name. As it already had a very high resin content, the challenge to carve something so intricate and personal to Boyd was not insignificant but worth it for a one-of-a-kind engagement ring.
The workbench only had one stool set up for Boyd, but as he tried to push Lucas into the seat, Lucas refused and squirmed until he eventually had the table between them. “You need to be comfortable doing what you do,” he insisted. “So I’ll watch from over here. I spent more than ten hours a day on my feet, so trust me when I say this is no hardship to watch you work.” He looked up at Boyd, then back at the wooden cube gripped in the vice. “Besides, this is not a piece you’re allowed to mess up.”
Boyd nodded and settled himself onto his stool, gathering up the first of several knives that he knew would have to be replaced in the morning due to the hardness of the timber. Normally, people watching him made him nervous, but with Lucas, he found it grounding. As if he could sink further into the project because he didn’t have to look out for ugly opinions designed to tear him down. With Lucas watching over him, he truly had nothing to fear.
And, as his right hand carved away large unnecessary chunks from the block, his left hand reached out and retrieved a sloyd knife to follow his right hand as it creased the wood, preparing it for the next pass of the larger blade. The motion was like a song being played in Boyd’s head, with his hand movements that of a conductor.
Blades were switched out constantly until a smaller sloyd and a hand gouge took their place. With these, he scooped a small ring around the central mass as a guideline and worked his way down while his other hand bevelled the outer edge, using the strength of both hands to offset the work of the other.
Small and smaller, each blade became until he split the barrel into two rings which he then shaped in a slight curve to match the one on his own finger. The final step was a light sanding in pumice to give the surface grain a denser coat as the resin was spread before the first layer of linseed oil could be applied.
Knowing whichever one he varnished would be wet for the next few hours and unable to be worn in the morning, Boyd picked up one of the rings and carried it to Lucas’ side of the table.
“You carved that from memory,” Lucas said, watching the bare ring slide into place on his left ring finger. He then lifted his hand and flicked his thumb against the ring. “How did … it’s a near-perfect fit,” he gasped.
“It still has at least four coats of shellac before it can be brought to a full shine,” Boyd explained. “And I’m going to do both exactly the same, so you’ll never tell them apart just by looking at them. I’ll know, but that means you have a question to answer by tomorrow morning.”
Lucas stopped admiring the wooden ring and looked up at him. “What?”
He pointed at the ring still on the workbench behind them. “That one will have its first coat put on tonight and will be ready to wear by tomorrow night. But the one you have on now will then need to be coated.”
“Still not seeing a question.”
“Which one do you want to wear to work in the morning for all your workmates to see for the first time? The one you’re wearing now that won’t have any extra protection even though it’s already harder than most metals or the one that’ll have a slightly greasy feel until I seal it tomorrow when you get home from work?”
“What difference will the two make?”
“Not a lot. As I said, there’s a ton of resin in snakewood, so it has a good lustre by itself. Someone like me will notice the difference, but no one else. It just depends on which ring you’d like everyone to notice in the morning as your engagement ring.”
Lucas glanced at both rings. “This one,” he said, shaking his left hand to waggle his selection after a few seconds of thought. “This is the real one. It’s the one you gave me first, and it’s the one I’m going to show everyone.”
Boyd nodded, knowing he would never mix them up, despite being carved from the same two-inch cube of timber. “Then tomorrow night, as soon as you get home, we’ll swap them then, and you can wear the spare one to bed. By lunchtime the following day, it’ll have the linseed and shellac coats on that one and protect it for the next eighty years as well.”
Lucas grinned at him. “Eighty years, huh?”
Boyd smirked as well, stealing a quick kiss before returning to his stool and pulling out a small bottle of linseed oil and a soft cloth. “And not a minute less,” he promised, wiping the linseed oil into the ring from all sides before using the dry corner to wipe away the excess. “This one will go in the room overnight to dry, and by the time you get home tomorrow, the shellac will have set.”
He saw the moment he lost Lucas’ interest in the varnishing process and smirked to himself. “This is tiny and easy. Just give me a minute to clean up, and then we can revisit step one of our master plan for coming home.” Utterly wrecking our bed.
“I’d like that.”
* * *
((All comments welcome. Good or bad, I'd love to hear your thoughts 🥰🤗))
I made a family tree/diagram of the Mystallian family that can be found here
For more of my work including WPs: Angel466 or an index of previous WPS here.
FULL INDEX OF BOB THE HOBO TO DATE CAN BE FOUND HERE!!