Clover quotes animal farm

I am 18+ and all participants and characters must be 18+
Downed Fighter Pilot: You and your brother had taken over the family farm after your parents had passed away at a rather young age. Now World War 2 had broken out and your brother was off to fight leaving you alone. Almost all the animals where gone and you lived a simple life. I was the best pilot we had and flew many missions but today I was trying to make it back to base in my damaged plane and unfortunately I couldn't. In the early morning, I crashed just outside of your house. The basic idea is a romance but we can add in other elements based on your kink/limits.
The Island: My character is a former navy seal and is in great shape. I'm 6'2, dark blonde hair, and light blue eyes. The two of us where on a flight and our plane crashed into the ocean. You and I both wash up on a island. I'm missing my shirt and pants and my boxers are ripped. Your clothes are basically rags at this point as well. We are beat up, basically naked, but we are alive and well need each other's help to survive. My plan here is also possibly romance but also the adventure of survival.
My other ideas are in my post history. My kik is love_merp so hit me up if you like either idea with your kinks and current time. I play first person.

The whirring blades of my MD-902 throbbed against the warm evening air, and I smiled.
From 5,000 feet, the ground flew by in a carpet of dark forests and kelly-green fields. The sun hung low on the horizon in a picturesque array of dazzling orange and gold, and I could make out the narrow strip of the Ohio River to my left, glistening in the fading daylight. This time of year, the trees would be full of the sweet aroma of fresh blossoms, and the frequent rains kept small pockets of fluffy white mist hanging in the treetops. It was a beautiful view, one that reminded me of why being a helicopter pilot trumped flying in a jumbo jet far above the clouds every day of the week.
Fourteen more days, and I’m debt free.
That made me grin even more. I’d been working as a charter pilot ever since I obtained my license at age 19, and after years of keeping my nose to the grindstone, I was closing on the final payment for real-estate in western Pennsylvania. With no debt, a fixer-upper house on 30 rural acres all to myself, and a respectable wage for a 26-year-old pilot, I looked forward to the financial freedom I could now enjoy. Maybe I’d take a vacation, somewhere exotic like Venice Italy, or the Dominican Republic. Or perhaps I’d sock the money back for the day I started a family.
“Remember kleineun, a real man looks after his own.”
My elderly ouma’s voice came back from the depths of my memories, her proud, sun-tanned face rising from the darkness. She and my Rhodesian grandfather had emigrated to the US when they were newlyweds, as the violence against white Boer descendants in South Africa spiraled out of control. My mother and father both died in a car crash when I was six, and it had been my grandparents who raised me. Due to this, I’d grown up with a slight accent that many of my classmates found amusing, and I could speak both English, and Afrikaans, the Boer tongue of our former home.
I shifted in my seat, stretched my back muscles, and glanced at the picture taped to my console. Both my parents flanked a grinning, gap-toothed six-year-old me, at the last Christmas we’d spent together. My mother beamed, her dark hair and Italian features a sharp contrast to my father’s sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. Sometimes, I liked to imagine they were smiling at me with pride at how well I flew the old silver-colored bird my company had assigned to me, and that made the long, lonely flights easier to bear.
A flicker caught my eye, and I broke my gaze away from the photograph.
Perched in its small cradle above the controls, my little black Garmin fuzzed over for a few seconds, its screen shifting from brightly colored maps to a barrage of grey static.
Did the power chord come loose?
I checked, ensuring the power-cable for the unit’s battery was plugged into the port on the control panel. It was a brand-new GPS unit, and I’d used it a few times already, so I knew it wasn’t defective. Granted, I could fly and navigate without it, but the Garmin made my time as a pilot so much easier that the thought of going blind was dreadful.
My fuel gauge danced, clicked to empty, then to full, in a bizarre jolt.
More of the gauges began to stutter, the entire panel seeming to develop terrets all at once, and my pulse began to race. Something was wrong, very wrong, and the sludge inside my bowels churned with sour fear.
“Come on, come on.” I flicked switches, turned dials, punched buttons, but nothing seemed to fix the spasming electronics. Every gauge failed, and without warning, I found myself plunged into inky darkness.
Outside, the sun surrendered to the pull of night, the sky darker than usual. A distant rumble of thunder reverberated above the roar of my helicopter’s engine, and I thought I glimpsed a streak of yellowish lightning on the far horizon to my left.
Calm down Chris. We’re still flying, so it must just be a blown fuse. Stay in control and find a place to set her down.
My sweaty palm slid on the cyclic stick, and both feet weighed heavy on the yaw pedals. The collective stuck to my other hand with a nervous vibration, and I squinted against the abyss outside.
Beep.
I jumped despite myself, as the little Garmin on my panel flared back to life, the static pulling aside to reveal a twitching display. Each time the screen glitched, it showed the colorful map detailing my flight path over the ground below, but I noticed that some of the lines changed, the names shifting, as if the device couldn’t decide between two different versions of the world.
One name jutted out at me, slate gray like most of the major county names, appearing with ghostly flickers from between two neighboring ones.
Barron County.
I stared, confused. I’d flown over this section of southeastern Ohio plenty of times, and I knew the counties by heart. At this point, I should have been over the southern end of Noble County, and maybe dipping lower into Washington. There was no Barron County in Ohio. I was sure of it.
And yet it shown back at me from the digital landscape, a strange, almost cigar-shaped chunk of terrain carved from the surrounding counties like a tumor, sometimes there, sometimes not, as my little Garmin struggled to find the correct map. Rain began to patter against my cockpit window, and the entire aircraft rattled from a strong gust of wind. Thick clouds closed over my field of vision like a sea of gray cotton.
The blood in my veins turned to ice, and I sucked in a nervous breath.
Land. I had to land. There was nothing else to do, my flight controls weren’t responding, and only my Garmin had managed to come back to life. Perhaps I’d been hit by lightning, and the electronics had been fried? Either way, it was too dark to tell, but a storm seemed to be brewing, and if I didn’t get my feet on the ground soon, I could be in real trouble.
“Better safe than sorry.” I pushed down on the collective to start my slow descent and clicked the talking button for my headset. “Any station, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, over.”
Nothing.
“Any station, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, requesting emergency assistance, over.”
Still nothing.
If the radio’s dead, I’m really up a creek.
With my hand shaking, I clicked on the mic one more time. “Any station, this is—”
Like a curtain pulling back, the fog cleared from around my window, and the words stuck in my throat.
Without my gauges, I couldn’t tell just how far I’d descended, but I was definitely very low. Thick trees poked up from the ground, and the hills rolled into high ridges with flat valley floors, fields and pastures pockmarking them. Rain fell all around in cold, silvery sheets, a normal feature for the mid spring in this part of Ohio.
What wasn’t normal, were the fires.
At first, I thought they were forest fires for the amount of smoke and flames that bellowed from each spot, but as I swooped lower, my eyes widened in horror.
They were houses.
Farms, cottages, little clusters that barely constituted villages, all of them belched orange flames and black pillars of sooty smoke. I couldn’t hear above the helicopter blades, but I could see the flashes on the ground, along the road, in between the trees, and even coming from the burning buildings, little jets of golden light that spat into the darkness with anger.
Gunfire. That’s rifle fire, a whole lot of it.
Tiny black figures darted through the shadows, barely discernable from where I sat, several hundred feet up. I couldn’t see much, but some were definitely running away, the streaks of yellow gunfire chasing them. A few dark gray vehicles rumbled down one of the gravel roads, and sprayed fire into the houses as it went. They were fighting, I realized, the people in the trucks and the locals. It was horrific, like something out of war-torn Afghanistan, but worse.
Then, I caught a glimpse of the others.
They didn’t move like the rest, who either fled from the dark vehicles, or fired back from behind cover. These skinny figures loped along with haphazard gaits, many running on all fours like animals, swarming from the trees by the dozens. They threw themselves into the gales of bullets without flinching, attacking anyone within range, and something about the way they moved, so fluid, so fearless, made my heart skip a beat.
What is that?
“Echo Four Actual to unknown caller, please respond, over.”
Choking back a cry of shock, I fumbled at the control panel with clumsy fingers, the man’s voice sharp and stern. I hadn’t realized that I’d let go of the talking button and clicked it down again. “Hello? Hello, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot out of Pittsburgh, over.”
An excruciating moment passed, and I continued to zoom over the trees, the fires falling away behind me as more silent forest took over.
“Roger that Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, we read you loud and clear. Please identify yourself and any passengers or cargo you might be carrying, over.”
Swallowing hard, I eyed the treetops, which looked much closer than they should have been. How far had I descended? “Echo Four Actual, my name is Christopher Dekker, and I am alone. I’m a charter flight from PA, carrying medical equipment for OSU in Columbus. My controls have been damaged, and I am unable to safely carry on due to the storm. Requesting permission to land, over.”
I watched the landscape slide by underneath me, once catching sight of what looked like a little white church surrounded by smaller huts, dozens of figures in the yard staring up at me as I flew over a nearby ridgeline.
“Solid copy on that Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot. Be advised, your transponder shows you to be inside a restricted zone. Please cease all radio traffic, reduce your speed, climb to 3,000 feet and proceed north. We’ll talk you in from there. How copy, over?”
My heart jumped, and I let out a sigh of relief. “Roger that Echo Four Actual, my altimeter is down, but I’ll do my best to eyeball the altitude, over.”
With that, I pulled the collective upward, and tried my best to gauge how far I was by eyesight in the gathering night, rain still coming down all around me. This had to be some kind of disaster or riot, I decided. After all, the voice over the radio sounded like military, and those vehicles seemed to have heavy weapons. Maybe there was some kind of unrest going on here that I hadn’t heard about yet?
Kind of weird for it to happen in rural areas though. Spoiled college kids I get, but never saw farmers get so worked up before. They usually love the military.
Something moved in the corner of my eye, and I turned out of reflex.
My mouth fell open, and I froze, unable to scream.
In the sky beside me, a huge shadow glided along, and its leathery wings effortlessly carved through the gloom, flapping only on occasion to keep it aloft. It was too dark for me to see what color it was, but from the way it moved, I knew it wasn’t another helicopter. No, this thing was alive, easily the size of a small plane, and more than twice the length of my little McDonald Douglass. A long tail trailed behind it, and bore a distinct arrow-shaped snout, with twig-like spines fanned out around the back of its head. Whatever legs it had were drawn up under it like a bird, yet its skin appeared rough and knobby, almost resembling tree bark. Without pause, the gigantic bat-winged entity flew along beside me, as if my presence was on par with an annoying fly buzzing about its head.
Gripping the microphone switch so tight, I thought I’d crack the plastic, I whispered into my headset, forgetting all radio protocol. “T-There’s something up here.”
Static crackled.
“Douglas Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, say again your last, you’re coming in weak and unreadable, over.”
“There’s something up here.” I snarled into the headset, still glued to the controls of the helicopter, afraid to deviate even an inch from my course in case the monstrosity decided to turn on me. “A freaking huge thing, right beside me. I swear, it looks like a bat or . . . I don’t know.”
“Calm down.” The man on the other end of the radio broke his rigorous discipline as well, his voice deep, but level. “It won’t attack if you don’t move too fast. Slowly ease away from it and follow that course until you’re out of sight.”
I didn’t have time to think about how wrong that sounded, how the man’s strict tone had changed to one of knowledge, how he hadn’t been the least surprised by what I’d said. Instead, I slowly turned the helicopter away from the huge menace and edged the speed higher in tiny increments.
As soon as I was roughly two football fields away, I let myself relax, and clicked the mic switch. “It’s not following.”
“You’re sure?”
Eyeing the huge flapping wings, I nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see me. “Yeah, I’m well clear.”
“Good. Thank you, Mr. Dekker.”
Then, the radio went dead.
Something in my chest dropped, a weight that made my stomach roil. This wasn’t right, none of it. Who was that man? Why did he know about the thing I’d just seen? What was I supposed to—
A flash of light exploded from the trees to my right and shot into the air with a long finger of smoke.
What the . . .
On instinct, I jerked the cyclic stick to one side, and the helicopter swung to avoid the rocket.
Boom.
My world shook, metal screeched, and a dozen alarms began to go off inside the cockpit in a cacophony of beeps and sirens. Orange and red flames lit up the night sky just behind me, and the horizon started to spin wildly outside. Heat gushed from the cockpit door, and I smelled the greasy stench of burning oil. The safety belts dug into my shoulders, and with a final slip, the radio headset ripped free from my scalp.
I’m hit.
Desperate, I yanked on the controls, fought the bird even as she spun toward the ground in a wreath of flames, the inky black trees hurtling up to meet me. The helicopter went into full auto-rotation, the sky blurring past outside, and the alarms blared in a screech of doom. Panic slammed through my temples, I screamed at the top of my lungs, and for one brief second, my eyes locked on the little black Garmin still perched atop my control panel.
Its screen stopped twitching and settled on a map of the mysterious Barron County, with a little red arrow at the center of the screen, a few words popping up underneath it.
You are here.
Trees stabbed up into the sky, the belts crushed at my torso, glass shattered all around me, and the world went dark.
Copper, thick, warm, and tangy.
It filled my mouth, stank metallic in my nose, clogged my throat, choking me. In the murkiness, I fought for a surface, for a way out, blind and numb in the dark.
This way, kleineun.
My ouma’s voice echoed from somewhere in the shadows.
This way.
Both eyes flew open, and I gagged, spitting out a stream of red.
Pain throbbed in my ribs, and a heavy pressure sent a tingling numbness through my shoulders. Blood roared inside my temples, and stars danced before my eyes with a dizzying array. Humid night air kissed my skin, and something sticky coated my face, neck, and arms that hung straight up toward the ceiling.
Wait. Not up. Down.
I blinked at the wrinkled, torn ceiling of the cockpit, the glass all gone, the gray aluminum shredded like tissue paper. Just outside the broken windows, thick Appalachian bluegrass and stemmy underbrush swished in a feeble breeze, backlit by flashes of lightning from the thunderstorm overhead. Green and brown leaves covered everything in a wet carpet of triangles, and somewhere nearby, a cricket chirped.
Turning my head from side to side, I realized that I hung upside down inside the ruined helicopter, the top half burrowed into the mud. I could hear the hissing and crackling of flames, the pattering of rain falling on the hot aluminum, and the smaller brush fires around the downed aircraft sizzling out in the damp long grass. Charred steel and burning oil tainted the air, almost as strong as the metallic, coppery stench in my aching nose.
They shot me down. That military dude shot me out of the sky.
It didn’t make sense. I’d followed their orders, done everything they’d said, and yet the instant I veered safely away from whatever that thing in the sky had been, they’d fired, not at it, but at me.
Looking down (or rather, up) at my chest, I sucked in a gasp, which was harder to do that before.
The navy-blue shirt stuck to my torso with several big splotches of dark, rusty red. Most were clean slashes, but two held bits of glass sticking out of them, one alarmingly bigger than the other. They dripped cherry red blood onto my upturned face, and a wave of nausea hit me.
I gotta get down.
I flexed my arms to try and work some feeling back into them, praying nothing was broken. Half-numb from hanging so long, I palmed along my aching body until I felt the buckled for the seat belts.
“Okay.” I hissed between gritted teeth, in an effort to stave off my panic. “You can do this. Just hold on tight. Nice and tight. Here we go . . .”
Click.
Everything seemed to lurch, and I slid off the seat to plummet towards the muck-filled hole in the cockpit ceiling. My fingers were slick with blood and slipped over the smooth faux-leather pilot’s seat with ease. The shoulder belt snagged on the bits of glass that lay just under the left lowest rib, and a flare of white-hot pain ripped through me.
Wham.
I screamed, my right knee caught the edge of the aluminum ceiling, and both hands dove into a mound of leaf-covered glass shards on the opposite side of the hole. My head swam, being right-side-up again enough to make shadows gnaw at the corner of my eyes.
Forcing myself to breath slowly, I fought the urge to faint and slid back to sit on the smooth ceiling. I turned my hands over to see half a dozen bits of clear glass burrowed into my skin like greedy parasites, red blood weeping around the new cuts.
“Screw you.” I spat at the rubbish with angry tears in my eyes. “Screw you, screw you, screw you.”
The shards came out easy enough, and the cuts weren’t that deep, but that wasn’t what worried me. On my chest, the single piece of cockpit glass that remined was almost as big as my palm, and it really hurt. Just touching it felt like self-inflicted torture, but I knew it had to come out sooner or later.
Please don’t nick a vein.
Wiping my hands dry on my jeans, I gripped the shard with both hands, and jerked.
Fire roared over my ribs, and hot blood tickled my already grimy pale skin. I clapped a hand over the wound, pressing down hard, and grunted out a string of hateful expletives that my ouma would have slapped me for.
Lying on my back, I stared around me at the messy cargo compartment of the MD-902. Most of the medical supplies had been in cardboard boxes strapped down with heavy nylon tow-straps, but several cases had ruptured with the force of the impact, spraying bandages, syringes, and pill bottles all over the cluttered interior. Orange flames chewed at the crate furthest to the rear, the tail section long gone, but the foremost part of the hold was intact. Easily a million-dollar mess, it would have made me faint on any other trip, but today it was a godsend.
Half-blind in the darkness, I crawled along with only the firelight and lightning bolts to guide me, my right knee aching. Like a crippled raccoon, I collected things as I went, conscious of the two pallets of intact supplies weighing right over my head. I’d taken several different first-aid courses with some hunting buddies of mine, and the mental reflexes kicked in to help soothe my frazzled mind.
Check for bleeds, stop the worst, then move on.
Aside from my battered chest and stomach, the rest of me remained mostly unharmed. I had nasty bruises from the seatbelts, my right knee swelled, my nose slightly crooked and crusted in blood, but otherwise I was intact. Dowsing every scratch and cut with a bottle of isopropyl alcohol I found, I used butterfly closures on the smaller lacerations that peppered my skin. I wrapped soft white gauze over my abused palms and probed at the big cut where the last shard had been, only stopping when I was sure there were no pieces of glass wedged inside my flesh.
“Not too bad.” I grunted to myself, trying to sound impassive like a doctor might. “Rib must have stopped it. Gonna need stitches though. That’ll be fun.”
Pawing through the broken cases, I couldn’t find any suture chord, but just as I was about to give up, I noticed a small box that read ‘medical skin stapler’.
Bingo.
I tore the small white plastic stapler free from its packaging and eyeballed the device. I’d never done this before, only seen it in movies, and even though the cut in my skin hurt, I wondered if this wouldn’t be worse.
You’ve gotta do it. That bleeding needs to stop. Besides, no one’s coming to rescue you, not with those rocket-launching psychos out there.
Taking a deep breath, I pinched the skin around the gash together, and pressed the mouth of the stapler to it.
Click.
A sharp sting, like that of a needle bit at the skin, but it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as the cut itself. I worked my way across the two-inch laceration and gave out a sigh of relief when it was done.
“Not going to bleed to death today.” I daubed ointment around the staples before winding more bandages over the wound.
Popping a few low-grade painkillers that tumbled from the cargo, I crawled wriggled through the nearest shattered window into the wet grass.
Raindrops kissed my face, clean and cool on my sweaty skin. Despite the thick cloud cover, there was enough constant lightning strikes within the storm to let me get glimpses of the world around me. My helicopter lay on its back, the blades snapped like pencils, with bits and pieces of it burning in chunks all around the small break in the trees. Chest-high scrub brush grew all around the low-lying ground, with pockets of standing water in places. My ears still rang from the impact of the crash, but I could start to pick up more crickets, frogs, and even some nocturnal birds singing into the darkness, like they didn’t notice the huge the hulk of flaming metal that had fallen from the sky. Overhead, the thunder rumbled onward, the feeble wind whistling, and there were other flashes on the horizon, orange and red ones, with crackles that didn’t sound quite like lightning.
The guns. They’re still fighting.
Instinctively, I pulled out my cellphone, and tapped the screen.
It fluttered to life, but no matter how I tried, I couldn’t get through to anyone, not even with the emergency function designed to work around having no service. The complicated wonder of our modern world was little better than a glorified paperweight.
Stunned, I sat down with my back to the helicopter and rested my head against the aluminum skin of the craft. How I’d gone from a regular medical supply run to being marooned in this hellish parody of rural America, I didn’t know, but one thig was certain; I needed a plan. Whoever fired the missile could have already contacted my charter company and made up some excuse to keep them from coming to look for me. No one else knew I was here, and even though I now had six staples holding the worst of my injuries shut, I knew I needed proper medical attention. If I wanted to live, I’d have to rescue myself.
My bag. I need to get my go-bag, grab some gear and then . . . head somewhere else.
It took me a while to gather my green canvas paratrooper bag from its place behind the pilot’s seat and fill it with whatever supplies I could scrounge. My knee didn’t seem to be broken, but man did it hurt, and I dreaded the thought of walking on it for miles on end. I focused instead on inventorying my gear and trying to come up with a halfway intelligent plan of action.
I had a stainless-steel canteen with one of those detachable cups on the bottom, a little fishing kit, some duct tape, a lighter, a black LED flashlight with three spare batteries, a few tattered road maps with a compass, a spare pair of socks, medical supplies from the cargo, and a simple forest green plastic rain poncho. I also managed to unearth a functioning digital camcorder my ouma had gotten me for Christmas a few years back, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to do any filming in such a miserable state. Lastly, since it was a private supply run from a warehouse area near Pittsburgh to a direct hospital pad in Ohio, I’d been able to bring my K-Bar, a sturdy, and brutally simple knife designed for the Marine Corps that I used every time I went camping. It was pitiful in comparison to the rifle I wished I had with me, but that didn’t matter now. I had what I had, and I doubted my trusty Armalite would have alleviated my sore knee anyway.
Clicking on my flashlight, I huddled with the poncho around my shoulders inside the wreck of the chopper and peered at the dusty roadmaps. A small part of me hoped that a solution would jump out from the faded paper, but none came. These were all maps of western PA and eastern Ohio. None of them had a Barron County on them anywhere.
The man on the radio said to head north, right before they shot me down. That means they must be camped out to the north of here. South had that convoy and those burning houses, so that’s a no-go. Maybe I can backtrack eastward the way I came.
As if on cue, a soft pop echoed from over the eastern horizon, and I craned to look out the helicopter window, spotting more man-made flashes over the tree tops.
“Great.” I hissed between clenched teeth, aware of how the temperature dipped to a chilly 60 degrees, and how despite the conditions, my stomach had begun to growl. “Not going that way, are we? Westward it is.”
Walking away from my poor 902 proved to be harder than I’d anticipated. Despite the glass, the fizzling fires, and the darkness, it still held a familiar, human essence to it. Sitting inside it made me feel secure, safe, even calm about the situation. In any other circumstance, I would have just stayed with the downed aircraft to wait for help, but I knew the men who shot me down would likely find my crash site, and I didn’t want to be around when they did.
Unlike much of central and western Ohio, southeastern Ohio is hilly, brushy, and clogged with thick forests. Thorns snagged at my thin poncho and sliced at my pant legs. My knee throbbed, every step a form of self-inflicted torture. The rain never stopped, a steady drizzle from above just cold enough to be problematic as time went on, making me shiver. Mud slid under my tennis shoes, and every tree looked ten times bigger in the flickering beam of my cheap flashlight. Icy fear prickled at the back of my neck at some of the sounds that greeted me through the gloom. I’d been camping loads of times, both in Pennsylvania and elsewhere, but these noises were something otherworldly to me.
Strange howls, screeches, and calls permeated the rain-soaked sky, some almost roars, while others bordered on human in their intonation. The more I walked, the softer the distant gunfire became, and the more prevalent the odd sounds, until the shadows seemed to fill with them. I didn’t dare turn off my flashlight, or I’d been completely blind in the dark, but a little voice in the back of my head screamed that I was too visible, crunching through the gloomy forest with my long beam of light stabbing into the abyss. It felt as though a million eyes were on me, studying me, hunting me from the surrounding brush, and I bitterly recalled how much I’d loved the old Survivor Man TV series as a kid.
Not so fun being out in the woods at night. Especially alone.
A twig snapped somewhere behind me, and I whirled on the spot, one trembling hand resting on the hilt of my K-Bar.
Nothing. Nothing but trees, bushes, and rain dripping down in the darkness.
“This is stupid.” I whispered to myself to keep my nerves in check as I slowly spun on the spot. “I should have went eastward anyway. God knows how long I’m going to have to—”
Creak.
A groan of metal-on-metal echoed from somewhere to my right, and I spun to face it, yanking the knife on my belt free from its scabbard. It felt so small and useless in my hand, and I choked down a wave of nauseas fear.
Ka-whump. Creak. K-whump. Creak.
Underbrush cracked and crunched, a few smaller saplings thrashed, and from deep within the gloom, two yellow orbs flared to life. They poked through the mist in the trees, forming into slender fingers of golden light that swept back and forth in the dark.
The soldiers . . . they must be looking for me.
I swallowed hard and turned to slink away.
Ice jammed through my blood, and I froze on the spot, biting my tongue to stop the scream.
It stood not yards away, a huge form that towered a good twelve feet tall in the swirling shadows. Unpolished chrome blended with flash-rusted spots in the faded red paint, and grime-smeared glass shone with dull hues in the flashes of lightning. Where the wheels should have been, the rounded steel axels curved like some enormous hand had bent them, and the tires lay face-down on the muddy ground like big round feet, their hubcaps buried in the dirt. Dents, scrapes, and chips covered the battered thing, and its crooked little radio antenna pointed straight up from the old metal fender like a mast. I could barely make out the mud-coated VW on the rounded hood, and my mind reeled in shock.
Is . . . is that a car?
Both yellow headlights bathed me in a circle of bright, blinding light, and neither I nor the strange vehicle moved.
Seconds ticked by, the screech-thumping in the background only growing closer. I realized that I couldn’t hear any engine noises and had yet to see any soldiers or guns pointed my way. This car looked old, really old, like one of those classic Volkswagen Beetles that collectors fought over at auctions. Try as I might, I couldn’t see a driver inside the murky, mold-smeared windows.
Because there wasn’t one.
Lightning arched across the sky overhead, and the car standing in front of me blinked.
Its headlights slid shut, as if little metal shades had crawled over the bulbs for a moment and flicked open again. Something about that movement was so primal, so real, so lifelike, that every ounce of self-control I had melted in an instant.
Cursing under my breath, I lunged into the shrubs, and the world erupted around me.
Under my shoes, the ground shook, and the car surged after me in a cacophony of ka-thumps that made my already racing heart skip several beats. A weather-beaten brown tow truck from the 50’s charged through the thorns to my left, it’s headlights ablaze, and a dilapidated yellow school bus rose from its hiding place in the weeds to stand tall on four down-turned axel-legs. They all flicked their headlights on like giants waking from their slumber, and as I dodged past them, they each blared their horn into the night in alarm.
My breaths came short and tight, my knee burned, and I crashed through thorns and briars without thought to how badly I was getting cut up.
The cheap poncho tore, and I ripped it away as it caught on a tree branch.
A purple 70’s Mustang shook off its blanket of creeping vines and bounded from a stand of trees just ahead, forcing me to swerve to avoid being run over, my adrenaline at all-time highs.
This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.
Slipping and sliding, I pushed through a stand of multiflora rose, and stumbled out into a flat, dark expanse.
I almost skidded to a stop.
What had once been a rather large field stood no taller than my shoestrings, the grass charred, and burnt. The storm above illuminated huge pieces of wreckage that lay scattered over the nearly 40-acre plot, and I could just make out the fire-blackened hulk of a fuselage resting a hundred yards away. The plane had been brought down a while ago it seemed, as there weren’t any flames left burning, and I threw myself toward it in frenzied desperation.
Burned grass and greasy brown topsoil slushed underfoot, and I could hear the squelching of the cars pursing me. Rain soaked me to the bone, and my lungs ached from sucking down the damp night air. A painful stich crept into my side, and I cursed myself for not putting in more time for cardio at the gym.
Something caught my left shoelace, and I hurtled to the ground, tasting mud and blood in between my teeth.
They’ve got me now.
I clawed at the mud, rolled, and watched a tire slam down mere inches from where my head had been. The Mustang loomed over me and jostled for position with the red Volkswagen and brown tow truck, the school bus still a few yards behind them. They couldn’t seem to decide who would get the pleasure of stomping me to death, and like a herd of stampeding wildebeest, they locked bumpers in an epic shoving match.
On all fours, I scampered out from under the sparring brutes, and dashed for the crumpled airplane, a white-painted DC-3 that looked like it had been cut in half by a gargantuan knife blade. I passed a snapped wing section, the oily remains of a turbo-prop engine, and a mutilated wheel from the landing gear. Climbing over a heap of mud, I squeezed into the back of the ruined flight cabin and dropped down into the dark cargo hold.
Wham.
No sooner had my sneakers hit the cold metal floor, and the entire plane rocked from the impact of something heavy ramming it just outside. I tumbled to my knees, screaming in pain as, once again, I managed to bash the sore one off a bracket in the wall.
My hand smeared in something gooey, and I scrabbled for my flashlight.
It clicked on, a wavering ball of white light in the pitch darkness, and I fought the urge to gag. “Oh man . . .”
Three people, or what was left of them, lay strewn over the narrow cargo area. Claret red blood coated the walls, caked on the floor, and clotted under my mud-spattered shoes. Bits of flesh and viscera were stuck to everything, and tatters of cloth hung from exposed sections of broken bone. An eerie set of bloody handprints adorned the walls, and the only reason I could tell it had been three people were the shoes; all of them bore anklebones sticking out above blood-soaked socks. It smelled sickly sweet, a strange, nauseas odor that crept into my nose and settled on the back of my tongue like an alien parasite.
Something glinted in the beam of my flashlight, and my pulse quickened as I pried the object loose from the severed arm that still clung to it.
“Hail Mary full of Grace.” I would have grinned if it weren’t for the fact that the plane continued to buck and roll under the assault from the cars outside.
The pistol looked old, but well-maintained, aside from the light coating of dark blood that stained its round wooden handle. It felt heavy, but good in my hand, and I turned it over to read the words, Waffenfabrik Mauser stenciled into the frame, with a large red 9 carved into the grip. For some reason, it vaguely reminded me of the blasters from Star Wars.
I fumbled with a little switch that looked like a safety on the back of the gun and stumbled toward a gap in the plane’s dented fuselage to aim out at the surrounding headlights.
Bang.
The old gun bucked reliably in my hand, its long barrel spitting a little jet of flame into the night. I had no idea if I hit anything, but the attacking cars recoiled, their horns blaring in confusion.
They turned, and scuttled for the tree line as fast as their mechanical legs could go, the entire ordeal over as fast as it had begun.
Did I do that?
Perplexed, I stared down at the pistol in my hand.
Whoosh.
A large, inky black shadow glided down from the clouds, and the yellow school bus moved too slow to react in time.
With a crash, the kicking nightmarish vehicle was thrown onto its side, spraying glass and chrome trim across the muddy field. Its electro-synth horn blared with wails of mechanical agony, as two huge talon-like feet clamped down on it, and the enormous head of the flying creature lowered to rip open its engine compartment.
The horn cut out, and the enormous flying entity jerked its head back to gulp down a mass of what looked like sticky black vines from the interior of the shattered bus.
At this range, I could see now that the flying creature bore two legs and had its wings half-tucked like a vulture that had descended to feed on roadkill. Its head turned slightly, and in the glow of another lightning bolt, my jaw went slack at the realization of what it was.
A tree trunk. It’s a rotted tree trunk.
I couldn’t tell where the reptilian beast began, and where the organic tree components ended, the upper part of the head shaped like a log, while the lower jaw resembled something out of a dinosaur movie. Its skin looked identical to the outside of a shagbark hickory but flexed with a supple featheriness that denoted something closer to skin. Sharp branch-like spines ranged down its back, and out to the end of its tail, which bore a massive round club shaped like a diseased tree-knot. Crouched on both hind legs, it braced the hooked ends of its folded wings against the ground like a bat, towering higher than a semi-truck. Under the folds of its armored head, a bulging pair of chameleon-like eyes constantly spun in their sockets, probing the dark for threats while it ate.
One black pupil locked onto the window I peered through, and my heart stopped.
The beast regarded me for a moment, making a curious, sideways sniff.
With a proud, contemptful head-toss, the shadow from the sky parted rows of razor-sharp teeth to let out a roar that shook the earth beneath my feet. It was the triumphant war cry of a creature that sat at the very top of the food chain, one that felt no threat from the fragile two-legged beings that walked the earth all around it. It hunted whenever it wanted, ate whatever it wanted, and flew wherever it wanted. It didn’t need to rip the plane apart to devour me.
Like my hunter-gatherer ancestors from thousands of years ago, I wasn’t even worth the energy it would take to pounce.
I’m hiding in the remains of the cockpit now, which is half-buried under the mud of the field, enough to shield the light from my screen so that thing doesn’t see it. My service only now came back, and it’s been over an hour since the winged beast started in on the dead bus. I don’t know when, or how I’m going to get out of here. I don’t know when anyone will even see this post, or if it will upload at all. My phone battery is almost dead, and at this point, I’m probably going to have to sleep among the corpses until daylight comes.
A dead man sleeping amongst friends.
If you live in the Noble County area in southeastern Ohio, be careful where you drive, fly, and boat. I don’t know if it’s possible to stumble into this strange place by ground, but if so, then these things are definitely headed your way.
If that happens . . . pray that they don’t find you.

So, me (F27) started a farm a few years ago. I have cows, pigs, sheep even goats. The farm is pretty small, but, as my grandpa always said, quality over quantity. My animals produce the best of stuff, also I'm kinda knowns, for the eggs. You gotta know what, my chickens lay huge eggs. And here's the problem, every now and again some eggs will be smaller (average for normal standards), so when I collect them I look the chicken that laid it in the eyes and eat it. I eat it raw and leave the shell for other chickens to eat (yes, they do it shells for evtra calcium). I don't really know when I started doing this, it might have been around 2 years ago. But only recently i thought about it more and why I do it, maeby becouse I'm ashamed on behalf of the chickens? I don't know, so there is the question, AITA?

A pig-eon

11:36pm here in Germany and i have Holidays for two Weeks🥳
im a Introvert never actually chatted online, im very kind and try to keep the Conversation interesting (even tho not that interesting tbh.)
ask me any Question and i will answer it, so you can ask me anything, im very open minded too.
i like watching breaking bad, the boys and i want to start watching Better call saul, Fight Club, etc. (my fav. is Breaking Bad so far.)
i also watched some Animes, like Jojo's Bizarre Adventure, Black Clover, Mob Psycho, Hellsing.
i will make a 1-10 list for a little bit more infos from me. (my Opinion ofc.)
Looks: 4/10 Personality: 8,5/10 Funny: 3/10 Interesting: 3/10 Social: 6/10
(Excuse me for my slow responses, my English is not thaaaat good)

Era pulled her hat down a little lower as the holocams flashed, taking dozens of pictures in a split second. Kai was smiling and waving, and X struck a pose to flex his muscles. It was almost possible to hide entirely by carefully positioning herself behind the two of them, but with so many reporters, at least one would find an angle to include her.
Today's game had been very short. In the regular season, the best teams often played against much weaker opposition. Era only gave X a small boost, and he practically beat the other team out of the arena alone. Kai took his time, waving to the fans and winking at the camera while dribbling the core into the goal.
The holocams finally stopped flashing, so the team took their seats for the post-match press conference. As always, Kai sat in the middle. X, to his right, put his feet on the table and leaned all the way back. If a question bored him, he would often loudly snore until they moved on and asked a different one. The room was filled with reporters from a dozen different outlets - Kai always gave a headline worthy quote. With only one microphone for them, they had to step up and take turns to ask questions. One of the reporters stepped up to the mic and looked at Kai.
"How do you feel about your perfect victory today? Only a few teams have ever won without letting their opponents score."
Kai leaned into the microphone. "Our opponents were fine, but fine isn't good enough when they're matched against me. I'll be winning like this from here on, so get used to it." He flashed a signature smirk, and held it for the cameras before leaning back into his chair.
Reporters came and went with a variety of questions. X only bothered to answer one about his hair; as usual, nearly every question was directed at Kai, and he was happy to give them the soundbites they were looking for. Era started to hope that nobody would ask her any questions.
An unfamiliar reporter, dressed in a suit with his hair slicked back, stepped up. "Kai, you've stated multiple times you want to be considered the greatest striker of all time. However, do you think that's possible when you're teammates with Era, considered by almost all analysts to be the greatest support of all time? Her ability to strengthen her teammates and weaken her enemies is unmatched. With her by your side, there will always be a question mark on your claim to greatness. Rumor has it that you will be swapping teammates for the next season."
The room went silent. Era felt her breath catch, and glanced over at Kai. He was staring daggers at the reporter, who had a predatory smile plastered on. A thousand scenarios played out in Era's head, and when Kai opened his mouth to respond, every bad scenario popped into the forefront.
SLAM
X was sitting upright after smashing his fist into the table. "What? Why is this even a question? Isn't it obvious that I, X, am the greatest? I am the greatest striker, the greatest support, I've got the greatest hair...My teammates are alright, I guess." He leaned forward, making direct eye contact with the reporter. "But they aren't X."
The reporter attempted to follow the question up, but X just started making animal noises until he left. The rest of the interview went by quickly, because X decided to respond to every question regardless of who it was addressed to. Eventually, the time ran out, and all the reporters filed out of the room, leaving only the Ember Monarch players.
X left the room, proclaiming something about how his hair needed some attention after such a strenuous interview. Kai stood up, a veritable storm on his face, and stomped out of the room as Era followed him. When they were backstage and alone, she tugged on his shirt. It was a childhood signal they had developed, and Kai stopped in his tracks.
"I'll have him barred from the press conferences," he growled. "I'll ruin his publishing company, so that no outlet ever picks him up again. He..."
"Is it true?" Era interjected. "Would you...make me leave?"
Kai looked Era right in the eyes and placed his hands on her shoulders. Somehow, the fear of being kicked let her maintain eye contact, although it took a titanic battle of willpower.
"Of course not," he said. "You and I are going to the top, no matter what some idiots say. If that means we just have to win every tournament for the rest of our careers, that's what it will be. You will be there, by my side."
Era briefly wondered if her heart had stopped beating entirely, and if her face was red enough to light up the room. If it was, Kai didn't notice because he was looking away, as if he had one more thing he couldn't bring himself to say. Shocked by her own boldness, Era tugged his shirt one more time, and he opened up.
"Also, I wouldn't want to play against you," he admitted quietly. "I would hate to throw my spells at you and...hurt you."
Era was about to fold herself into her hat, but at that moment X came bursting through the wall, his jacket on fire and an entire rack of ribs, dripping with barbecue sauce, held between his hands. He started screaming something about a food fight and charged headfirst back through the hole in the wall he created. Kai and Era shared a look, awkwardly stepped apart, and followed their teammate. At the very least, Era could feel her heart beating again, but now it was beating faster than it ever did in a Corestrike match.

(TLDR: Most everything Nickel had in S3 was because of Clovers luck, and when that died so did everything else, which makes me sad)
Ok, I want to talk about Nickel, and how… idk, sad he’s gotten. From the start (excluding S1) he’s been a very sarcastic and degrading character, however he’s been a descent character and leader. From about mid season2, that’s been overshadowed by his dislike of Balloon and control over Suitcase. Which are obvious character flaws (like every other character) but it doesn’t really ruin him. Then because of these flaws he’s voted out by a person in his alliance, which he was attempting to ensure success of. Cue season3. He’s still sarcastic and rude to Balloon, however he starts working with him for the reason of Box (debatable) and the team. Then in the cartoon episode he gets everything he wants/hopes for. And once he realizes that it’s Clovers doing and not his own, he’s upset. And when he tells Balloon that he doesn’t want another person “pretending to like him” Balloon just jokes about it. Fast forward a bit more and Nickel has an alliance of 5, including Silver and Candle, who probably wouldn’t be in said alliance without Nickel’s luck. Then, as shown in the last episode (as of May) the “curse” of the luck was finally lifted when he couldn’t take it anymore and wished for escape. This caused him to die for the first time. And what happened as soon as this luck died? His alliance shattered, same as in Season2. This means that everything he had in Season3, examples of a strong alliance, people laughing at his jokes, him and Balloon getting along, were all just handed to him by luck. I don’t know, just everything put together plus voice acting and animation just make the whole thing seem sad to me. Anyone else?

I just moved out to the countryside where there isn't a lot of choices for vets. I took my inside pets to the vet a couple of weeks ago, and they missed a few things so I want to come armed with a written list of things to be done for our farm dog.
I have a 3 year old Great Pyrenees that we took ownership of three weeks ago. I believe that she's never stepped paw in a vet before. She was given to us for free due to her aggressiveness during heat. So far she's only food aggressive towards animals. She has great body condition, but I have never seen a dog with so many ticks on them!
I want to make sure that she has a clean bill of health before doing things like heartgard and spaying her!
Why do I believe that they missed some things?
My dog needed all of his shots including cytopoint, Lyme vaccine, and canine influenza vaccine. They took my dog to the back and did whatever, but when the vet came in the room he didn't even touch my dog until I told him about my dog's alarming coughing fits. He said that he would just trust that my dog needed the cytopoint. I looked at my bill when I got home and they didn't give him the Lyme or influenza vaccine. I called later and they don't do the influenza vaccine at all, but do the Lyme vaccine on request.
I also took both of my 14 year old cats to the vet. I have more experience with their vet care since I've had them longer. The vet techs just gave them their vaccines. No temperature check, no looking at their eyes and ears, no blood samples etc. I have taken my cats to a lot of different vets with them both in China and in multiple US states, and this was one of the weirdest visits!
Anyways, what would you suggest that I make sure gets done at my GP's first visit to this no-frills country vet?

This community and its discussions are usually inspiring to me, you people have very thought provoking and introspective ideas that help me start to find personal growth, so I thought I would ask this question here. I know this is very personal, and I won't be able to just directly absorb anybody else's hope; it has to come from within myself.
But, right now, over the past few weeks, I have been struggling with increasingly overwhelming hopelessness and struggling to maintain faith in life even though I've had spiritual experiences and feel connection to some deities and spiritual figures. I guess I am an omnist/omnitheist/pantheist, but feeling a disconnect from myself and from the universe lately. I've been in depression and more specialized mental health treatment for a few years (and intensive treatment for a few months, that I am gradually stepping down from currently), but the clinical/"distress tolerance"/CBT & DBT side of things can only get me so far; I am grateful that it helps get me out of crisis moments, but I don't know what to do once I'm back to just plain old vanilla hopelessness and the blandness/amotivation of life. I want to find meaning. I want to have a full life. I don't want to feel stuck, and I don't want to be repeating the same cycles keeping me stuck anymore, but I'm finding the inertia of this hopelessness really hard to overcome.
Does anybody have stories about how you found hope in life? How you maintain hope during dark times? Book suggestions? Spiritual speakers/youtube channels? Ideas? Quotes? Words you live by? Ways to reframe thoughts? People, animals, plants, lifeforms, energyforms, spirits, deities you look up to who help you find hope? A general direction for personal research/inquiry that could be insightful?Anything in general that could be helpful?

Shooting my shot out there once again and seeing how it lands. For the most part I'm really searching for someone who I can vibe with, match my energy or be attracted by it, and love me for me. A how you say? GENUINE relationship. If we don't hit it off, that's totally cool with me. Now as for who you're getting into with, well I love making art, 3D animation for the most part and expressing myself through it. A lot of factors play a huge role into inspiring me, anime, music, action movies. And it's been amazingly fun getting into this world and finding something that makes me feel satisfied when I create something.
A huge part of my personality once you really start to get to know me is my love of Harleys. I own one and it's become a huge part of me personality wise. My main form of transportation to and from work or where ever. Every ride I become more and more one with it. And seeing the mods I put on to it really reflect myself onto it. Bonus points if you ride as well, doesn't matter what type of bike :) At the end of the day I'm a motorcycle enthusiast.
Really I'm a huge nerd, my love for anime, Star Wars, Harry Potter, Marvel, DC just goes deep. Stuff like that has been with me since I was in dippers. Tell me about your favorite animes, mine include Black Clover, Violet Evergarden, and much much more. Most of my music taste is usually OSTs, Punk Rock, classic rock, 80s, and JP music but honestly share some of your faves if you got any. Usually, if it sounds good, it's getting added to my list. Really love action films that fuel my desire to create, like John Wick, Jackie Chan movies or Donnie Yen action. But I do enjoy me a good drama. I don't drink or smoke and never plan to, so I hope this isn't a deal breaker, it's just not who I am.
I also game, but my gaming has been mostly during my free time or when I need an hour break from working on creative projects. I'll play any game with you if you game. My mindset is not what I "ME" wants to play, but rather we're enjoying each other's company and playing something fun together. I play on PC mostly but I do have a PS4. Just tell me what games you may play and I might just have it in my library
As for work, I'm employed at the LEGO Group and has now become a huge part of my life. I have a passion for my craft there and I never take one second of my employment there for granted. Making peoples/kids days is what drives me to improve. I own two cats and a Lab. I love them to death! If you have pets as well let me know! Feel free to ask for a photo of me once we start chatting and I'll share one. And if you made it this far, if you decide to message me, if you had to watch one movie forever what would it be?

Shooting my shot out there once again and seeing how it lands. For the most part I'm really searching for someone who I can vibe with, match my energy or be attracted by it, and love me for me. A how you say? GENUINE relationship. If we don't hit it off, that's totally cool with me. Now as for who you're getting into with, well I love making art, 3D animation for the most part and expressing myself through it. A lot of factors play a huge role into inspiring me, anime, music, action movies. And it's been amazingly fun getting into this world and finding something that makes me feel satisfied when I create something.
A huge part of my personality once you really start to get to know me is my love of Harleys. I own one and it's become a huge part of me personality wise. My main form of transportation to and from work or where ever. Every ride I become more and more one with it. And seeing the mods I put on to it really reflect myself onto it. Bonus points if you ride as well, doesn't matter what type of bike :) At the end of the day I'm a motorcycle enthusiast.
Really I'm a huge nerd, my love for anime, Star Wars, Harry Potter, Marvel, DC just goes deep. Stuff like that has been with me since I was in dippers. Tell me about your favorite animes, mine include Black Clover, Violet Evergarden, and much much more. Most of my music taste is usually OSTs, Punk Rock, classic rock, 80s, and JP music but honestly share some of your faves if you got any. Usually, if it sounds good, it's getting added to my list. Really love action films that fuel my desire to create, like John Wick, Jackie Chan movies or Donnie Yen action. But I do enjoy me a good drama. I don't drink or smoke and never plan to, so I hope this isn't a deal breaker, it's just not who I am. I also game, but my gaming has been mostly during my free time or when I need an hour break from working on creative projects. I'll play any game with you if you game. My mindset is not what I "ME" wants to play, but rather we're enjoying each other's company and playing something fun together. I play on PC mostly but I do have a PS4. Just tell me what games you may play and I might just have it in my library
As for work, I'm employed at the LEGO Group and has now become a huge part of my life. I have a passion for my craft there and I never take one second of my employment there for granted. Making peoples/kids days is what drives me to improve.I own two cats and a Lab. I love them to death! If you have pets as well let me know! Feel free to ask for a photo of me once we start chatting and I'll share one.
And if you made it this far, if you decide to message me, if you had to watch one movie forever what would it be?

Bluey is a children's program in Australia that features a society of anthropomorphic dogs acting like humans.
Film Theory: Bluey is MUCH Darker Than You Realize! was released today to their 12 million subscribers. (the evolution part of the video starts around 13:18.
Most of the video is debating whether the Bluey universe takes place on Earth after humanity goes extinct, or if it is an alternate timeline where dogs evolved to be bipedal and intelligent instead of humans. In the end MatPat determines that Bluey takes place in an alternate timeline on Earth.
In an earlier part of the video, it shows a clip from the show telling us that dogs evolved from fish, to dinosaurs, to monkeys, then to dogs. It's a kids show, so I'll allow it.
The big problem is at the end of the episode, when MatPat cycles back to that evolution clip and starts trying to explain why monkeys might choose to turn into dogs instead of humans, comparing the physical advantages of both species and suggesting that the dogs' superior sense of smell made the monkeys choose to become dogs instead of humans. They also completely ignore the evolution of dinosaurs to monkeys, as if it were the last step to dogs that is most incredulous.
How common is this misconception that animals actively choose which attributes their descendants will have? Specifically, that animals know the options available (like sense of smell) and "decide" to evolve toward that goal, bypassing natural selection.
Edit to add a quote from MatPat that is basically a TL;DR: "What evolutionary benefit caused them to turn into dogs instead of humans?"

In this video, I cover what I believe are the best mods that you can install for Skyrim Special Edition in 2023.
https://youtu.be/X1qSQ6waGho
All the mods covered can be downloaded from Nexus Mods, and managed using a Mod tool such as Vortex or Mod Organizer 2.
Although I am using the Steam version of Skyrim Special Edition with the Anniversary Edition DLC, installed on Windows 11, it is possible to run this game on Linux with all the mods if you use Steam Proton.
Mod List
The mods covered in this video, range from bug fixes, restored content, graphical upgrades, quality of life changes, new UI elements, new NPC behaviours and performance enhancements.
A Quality World Map
https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/5804
The Quality World Map mod provides a new set of highly detailed 3D or paper world map textures, complete with roads for the Skyrim mainland as well as the island of Solsteim.
There are quite a few options available to download, although I tend to use the Classic with All Roads option.
The result is that you now have a map that can be used for navigation, as paths and roads are now clearly defined, which is helpful for more obscure off the beaten path locations, especially in the mountains.
Achievement Mods Enabler
https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/245
The Achievement Mods Enabler mod restores the ability for you obtain Steam achievements when you have mods installed.
Strangely, with the release of official mod support in Skyrim, Bethesda stopped you from obtaining achievements if you installed any type of mod, which does not make sense, since Skyrim is a single player game, yet they allow you spawn in items using the console without any consequence.
In either case, installing this mod will once again allow you to obtain achievements regardless of how many mods you have installed.
Alternative Start – Live Another Life
https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/272
If you have played Skyrim several times, the game always starts the same, you get captured, you choose your starting race, a dragon attacks Helgen and you escape in the mayhem, the entire process takes about 20 minutes.
The Alternative Start mod allows you to completely bypass the vanilla beginning of the game and forge your own path.
You might choose to start as the newest member of a local guild, a shopkeeper, a hunter in the woods, a patron in a local bar, someone who has just been attacked and lost everything, a member of the Imperial Legion, the survivor of a shipwreck, or an Orc who has lived his entire life in a stronghold.
But regardless of the starting origin you choose, it does not lock you out of any quest lines, instead allowing you to choose your own role-playing adventure and comes highly recommended.
Convenient Horses
https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/9519
The horses in Skyrim are stupid.
They attack anything hostile on sight including dragons, and in most cases, especially with higher level enemies, end up getting killed, wasting 1000 gold.
The exception of course is Shadowmare, who is immortal, but regardless, still thinks it is a great idea to fight a fire breathing lizard in the middle of the countryside.
The Convenient Horses mod changes all that, as horses are now ignored by enemies and do not randomly attack things, and in addition, they now have skills that can be levelled up, which in most cases equates to extra stamina or health meaning that they can now sprint for longer distances.
The mod also allows horses can now carry things, be fitted with armour, recalled by a horse whistle or horn, and most importantly, your companions can now use horses as well, assuming of course that you cough up and give them 1000 gold.
I often found it silly that whilst I could ride a horse, my follower will run after me on foot, and in the vanilla game, aside from Shadowmare, I never bothered with horses, however with this mod installed, I now actually use them to travel Skyrim.
Cutting Room Floor
https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/276
There is no doubt that Skyrim is a massive game, however the more you play it, you might start to think that some things are missing in certain parts of the world, and you are right.
The Cutting Room Floor mod adds quests that were not finished by Bethesda due to several reasons, additional items, new NPC interactions and extra dialogue, as well as other pieces of cut content back into the world.
A simple little mod, that does a lot.
Footprints
https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/3808
The world of Skyrim has a lot of snow, as well as ash, however one thing that is strange is that no-one ever leaves any footprints in it.
The Footprint mod fixes that by allowing creatures, NPCs and your character to leave footprints with particle effects as they move through snow and ash.
Honestly, I am surprised they did not add this into the game when Skyrim Special Edition was released, but a fantastic mod to install all the same.
Immersive Citizens – AI Overhaul
https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/173
The NPCs in Skyrim, much like horses have questionable intelligence, especially when it comes to dangerous situations.
Therefore the Immersive Citizens mod aims to improve the AI of friendly NPCs to make them react like true humans when it comes to danger, in most cases this means that guards will now defend an area, which makes sense, whilst a shopkeeper or an NPC with a non-combat role will avoid conflict.
The mod also adds routines to the NPCs, which means that at certain times of day, they might visit a tavern, have more interaction with the player character, or explore more of the city, and in most cases, a NPC will not simply stick to one area, which is far more realistic.
A great mod that adds something that should have been in the game to start with.
Immersive Patrols
https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/718
Skyrim makes use of what are known as random encounters, in which at certain points on the map, you will experience a scripted event, this could be a bandit ambush, a dragon attack, a unique NPC, a group NPCs travelling from one location to another, or even an old Orc challenging you to a fight to the death.
The Immersive Patrols mod adds Stormcloak, Thalmor, Imperial and Dawnguard patrols to Skyrim, as well as a few roaming Skaal, Reaver and Rieklings to Solstheim, and sometimes, these patrols can cross paths with each other, and if they are on opposing factions, start fighting.
The mod also adds full scale battles between Stormcloak and Imperial soldiers whilst the Skyrim civil war quest line is still active, which can mean that, depending on your allegiance, you may be attacked on site.
In my opinion, mods like this that add additional content or expanding the variety that a player can experience is always a good thing.
Immersive Sounds – Compendium
https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/523
After playing Skyrim for so long, and then playing other action-based RPGs, the sound effects in Skyrim leave a lot to be desired.
Whilst the dragon shouts are cool to hear, other mundane noises such as the sound of armour shuffling whilst moving, the sound of weapons hitting armour pieces, spell effects, or even the groans of the Draugr sound a bit flat.
The Immersive Sounds mod completely overhauls the sound in game, spells sound louder and more damaging, weapons make appropriate noises when they clash, arrows whiz through the air, armour feels heavy, and comical noises such as when a sneak attack is performed can now be silenced.
As there is nothing more immersive breaking than lining up the perfect shot, only to hear a comical donk noise when the arrow hits.
The mod also adds audio cues when you when you pick up items such as gems, gold or potions, and chests now creak when they are opened.
This is mod that I always have installed, as I cannot play with vanilla sounds anymore.
JK’s Skyrim – All in One
https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/6289
Whilst Skyrim has several locations, towns, and cities to explore, some of the smaller settlements seem to be sparsely populated, in many cases, a village might contain just a couple of buildings, some crops and some NPCs.
The JK’s Skyrim mod fixes this by adding more content to the various settlements in the world, making them more memorable, for example, the Skyforge in Whiterun now looks a forge, complete with displayed armour pieces and a smelter.
Each town now has a theme, Riverwood for lumber, Rorikstead for farming, Falkreath has a graveyard, Dawnstar has a port, and Dragon Bridge is now a defensive outpost.
In fact, some locations now have new vendors, and the allegiance of the town will change depending on the progress of the Civil War quest line.
In short, this mod enhances the game, making locations more useful to the player character, and making the world more lived in.
No Spinning Death Animation
https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/1432
The enemies in Skyrim are very flexible, and sometime when you kill them, they do this weird twist animation as they slump on the floor which is both hilarious and disturbing at the same time, of course, this completely breaks immersion as no-one would do this in real life.
The No Spinning Death Animation mod removes the spinning around dance animation that NPCs do before dying and instead they will now just ragdoll when killed.
The mod also removes certain creature’s death pause animations which cause them to lose all momentum, remove any physical push based on your attacks, so that hitting them no longer launches them into the air.
A great mod to install, and one I find essential, especially for melee combat.
Relationship Dialogue Overhaul
https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/1187
One of the things you will notice as you play through the game is that followers will often repeat their dialogue, which can get annoying after a while, especially after hearing Lydia’s sarcastic responses to you when you ask her to carry something.
The Relationship Dialogue Overhaul mod adds over 5,000 lines of completely voiced dialogue for NPCs using their original voices, which now means that friends, followers, spouses, rivals, and others have much more to say.
The mod also fixes dialogue bugs and restores cut dialogue so you may hear your follower say something that you have never heard before, so as someone who likes using followers, it is nice to hear something different occasionally, whilst exploring Skyrim.
Run For Your Lives
https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/2272
Much like horses, NPCs in Skyrim will blindly run into combat whenever dragons and vampires attack, especially at the Whiterun front gate, which normally ends up with several dead merchants.
The Run for Your Lives mod makes it so that citizens in a village or city will now run indoors during these attacks, although Guards, members of The Companions, Vigilants of Stendarr, and the player's followers will still stand and fight.
The mod author mentions that this mod was created out of frustration of every person trying to be a hero and not surviving, which is exactly the reason I recommend you install this mod in your game.
Skyland AIO
https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/34179
When it comes to modding graphic mods in Skyrim, it quickly becomes a rabbit hole, as there are hundreds, if not thousands of graphic mods available for Skyrim, including texture and flora overhauls, landscapes and water replacers, snow mods, and it goes on.
Therefore, I will just be recommending one, Skyland AIO (All in One), which is a collection of all Skyland mods bundled together featuring high quality and resolution texture overhauls for architecture and landscapes.
Skyland is created using 4K 3D scans of real-world surfaces and offers the most realistic visual overhaul in Skyrim, covering cities, towns, and villages to forts, dungeons, and caves, as well as landscapes from the Rift to the Reach and beyond.
Out of all the graphic mods I have installed in Skyrim, this does appear to be one of the more consistent one, but just bear in mind that the mod itself does weight in at around 6GB.
Skyland LOD
https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/87412
The Skyland LOD (Level of Detail) mod provides a preset LOD or level of detail for when you have the Skyland AIO mod installed, which in other words means that you will be able to the see the Skyland modded textures at greater distances.
I recommend that you install both Skyland AIO and the accompanying LOD for the best experience.
SkyUI
https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/12604
The User Interface (UI) for Skyrim was designed with a controller in mind, so it can be a bit jarring if you are using mouse and keyboard.
The SkyUI mod describes itself as an elegant, PC-friendly interface mod with many advanced features, one of which is to add new HUD elements, and my favourite is visible duration for summons and flesh spells, as in the vanilla game, the only way you could check this was to open up the menu.
The mod also supports third party mod integration, which will allow you to configure a mod through the mod manager section in the game’s menu, instead of using an in game spell or power.
For someone who uses a mouse and keyboard for RPGs, this mod is a godsend, and I strongly recommend it.
SSE Display Tweaks
https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/34705
The SSE Display Tweaks mod provides an all-in-one solution for smooth FPS-unlocked gameplay, including physics fixes, borderless full screen performance boosts, refresh rate control, highly configurable frame rate limiting, various bugfixes and more.
In other words, you can now play Skyrim at a frame rate higher than the standard 60FPS, and most importantly, without the game engine bugging out, which typically happens if you manually disable V-Sync through the game’s config files.
As someone who has a 165Hz refresh rate monitor, Skyrim running at 120FPS is fantastic experience, so I strongly recommend installing this mod if you have similar hardware.
Unofficial Skyrim Special Edition Patch
https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/266
One of the running jokes about Bethesda games is that they tend to be buggy at release, which over time get patched, however years later, there are still several bugs left in Skyrim.
Most are minor, usually item placements, perks not working correctly, weapons that do not have crafting recipes, or exploits to do with training skills.
The Unofficial Skyrim Special Edition mod is a comprehensive bug fixing mod with the goal to eventually fix every bug in Skyrim Special Edition that was not officially resolved by the developers to the limits of the Creation Kit and community-developed tools.
Without a doubt, this is one of the most important mods you should install when playing Skyrim on PC.
Wet and Cold
https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/644
The Wet and Cold mod adds weather-dependent visual effects and AI enhancements to the player and NPCs.
More specifically, in colder climates, the player character, NPCs and some creatures will now have a visible breath animation when breathing, rainfall and snow will now appear on the armour and clothing, and depending on their race, NPCs will actively seek shelter when it is raining or snowing.
The mod also adds new weather-related clothing to the game’s levelled lists, typically scarfs, gloves, or hats, which are often equipped once the weather turns, or alternatively found on bandits located at snowy locations.
Much like the Footprints mod from earlier, this functionality should have been implemented into the original game.

Hello all. I’m looking for a 18+ long term semi detailed rp M4F based on a few anime’s. Naruto, MHA, DBZ, One Piece, Fairy Tail, Black Clover, or even a Slice of Life rp like Quintessential Quintuplets, Rent a Girlfriend Horimiya More Than a Married Couple Less Than Lovers and so on or Harry Potter Rp. I prefer for Harry Potter or the animes to be cannon characters but OCs can be negotiated. For these RPs I prefer if they were a mix of romance and adventure in order to keep things interesting and I would prefer if you could write a minimum a paragraph if possible.
Some characters I’m looking for
Naruto-Sakura, Ino, Tsunade, Kushina
MHA-Momo, Uraraka, Miriko, Midnight, Mt Lady, Mina
DBZ-Chi-Chi, Bulma, 18
One Piece-Nami, Yamato, Uta
Fairy Tail-Lucy, Mirajane, Juvia, Erza
Black Clover-Noelle
Quintessential Quintuplets-Nino, Miku, Ichika, Itsuki, Yotsuba
Rent a Girlfriend-Chizaru
Horimiya-Hori
More Than a Married Couple-Akari
Digimon-Mimi, Sora, Kari
HP-Hermione, Ginny

I reread the whole story from chapter 101 to 202 the other day, and I really have to say: the story is so damn well written and I love it. Still, I see a lot of things that didn't happen that could have, and things I just want to forget.... cough Ymir cough... So I'd like to throw in a few ideas of what the anime could theoretically do differently if it adapted these chapters.
The Fettered Tern Mini Arc
In this arc, Leif was set up as the villain for Gudrid. Personally, I'm really not a fan of this. Leif, up to this point, has always been an understanding person to me, who was good at putting himself in other people's shoes and what they wanted. That he insists so stubbornly on traditions and tramples the dreams of a young woman still feels out of character to me.
I know that I represent the minority of the Vinland Saga fan community here, so I don't presume to change this (although I think another character could have been used instead of Leif to keep Gudrid from being a sailor, or another argument from Leif, e.g. that marriage is important for Greenland). But if it's going to be adapted one-to-one like this, I'd at least like to see a backstory as to why Leif is so insistent on tradition and gender roles when he rejects the way of the Vikings, which is actually a break from Norse tradition.
War in the Baltic
After reading the War in the Baltic Arc, I was generally pleased with the way things went, although one particular aspect left me a bit disappointed: Garm. Instead of watching Canute cleverly pull strings to cause chaos so that the Vikings kill each other, lucky occurrences arise from Garm's "spontaneously" performed deeds. As a result, Canute's plan, aside from poisoning the leader of the Jomsvikings, is seemingly pointless. For example, Gram's actions to kill Vagn result in the complete absence of the great battle between the two factions over the fight for the chief's successor - an essential part of Canute's actual strategy. Only thanks to the absurdity of Thorkell and his ability to win over his own and his opponent's troops, a battle between Vikings did occur after all, though again it must be said that Canute was simply lucky.
Furthermore, I'm really not a fan of the plot element that Garm tracked down and kidnapped Thorfinn's crew in Odense. In the end, Thorfinn is pulled back into the conflict and has to go back the way he came. In my opinion, the story could have been made more exciting here.
Example:

Instead of Garm killing Vagn in Chapter 133, he is simply severely wounded by him (Thorfinn is his target). Thorkell finds him badly injured, reacts angrily that he doesn't get his battle and duel and demands the name of the culprit. After that he is still asked by Vagn how he can fight for Floki if he killed Thors deceitfully. So Thorkell would know about it and would have a motive to fight against Floki and lead Vagn's troops as well as his own followers against him.
In a later interpolated scene, we might see Canute demanding Wulf do some research for information about Floki and Vagn so he can use it. In an even later scene, we would then see a compilation of events, such as Canute's men tracking down Atli to see the theory of Floki's involvement in Thor's death confirmed (catching him stealing made capture easier), him informing Floki of Garm as an assassin via a third party, and him hiring an assassin to kill Floki's grandson to incite the sides towards each other (possible flashback to Askeladd unraveling his assassin game in York).

What is also unbearable in this arc: "Barrel Blaster" (Chapter 150) and Ymir (Chapter 157/158). These can simply be cut out and the story will work as well.
Miklagard Arc
This arc was unfortunately skipped due to an impossible research trip because of the political situation in Turkey. A big mistake. The potential here is enormous. I see Thorfinn as a merchant and at the same time facing political events in the city. We could meet characters that Snake/Roald knew, possibly get a backstory as to why Snake had to leave this place. I so wish there was a story here, even if it was only going to be a four episode OVA special instead of a season of 12 episodes. Also, when the crew heads home, they could stop by Olmar's farm again to deliver a letter or a significant object to Snake, for example. It would be another nice moment to see him again and how he slowly got used to life as a farmer. A visit to Arnheid's grave to make us feel how far they have come would also be included. I JUST NEED THIS. GIVE IT TO ME!
Vinland Arc
I have only one criticism so far: Thorfinn. He seems too fixated on his ideal and loses control. But the arc is far from over and a lot can still happen. That's why I don't want to say anything more here, possibly Yukimura's resolution of the story will satisfy me very much.

I put this on another hearthstone reddit and someone pointed me here. I don't have any art skills to make the cards, so if anyone wants to do anything here, feel free!
So like many Hearthstone players, I also play the game that inspired it, World of Warcraft. Currently, the game has players exploring an underground area called the Zaralek Caverns, which include a new and cute mole-like race called the Niffen. Then, remembering Deepholm and another ground-dwelling race called the Drogbar, a bunch of ideas came to me in the form of a new expansion idea: Journey to the Center of Azeroth.
Since the idea (and the name) is based on the work of the great author, Jules Verne, I decided it should be inspired and themed after his work. And so this is the basic story idea:
Plot: Many secrets still lay underneath the surface of Azeroth, both great riches and dangerous secrets. Come join the legendary writer and amateur explorer, Joles Burns, as he takes his specially modified mole machine and digs deeper into Azeroth than anyone has before! He will not stop until he reaches the center of the planet! But will his expedition lead to untold treasures...or horrifying terrors that should not have been disturbed...?
Joles Burns will be a Dark Iron Dwarf and the MC of the expansion and a likely solo adventure. He can be a shaman potrait hero, but I see him also as a legendary neutral card. Which brings up the special new term introduced to this expansion: Collaspe
Jole Burns: Legendary. (Neutral) 7/8. 8-Mana. Battlecry: Collapse. three slots of your choosing for 3 turns. Entrance Quote: I am a dark iron dwarf and I DIGGY DIGGY A HOLE!!! (Reference to the Windrose song)
Collapse is a new mechanic I thought of that gives players the ability to manipulate the playing field itself. The targets are monster slots (Emptied or occupied), secrets, quests, multiple-turn spells (like the Alterac Valley spells), and even hero powers. When a slot is collasped, it can not be used (effects like spell damage for being out get nullified), have its effects activated (secrets remain unable to be triggered), or be progressed (quests can't be fufilled until collaspe ends). You may choose your own field or the opponents. Now all collapse effects have a timer, but can be ended up earlier by giving up one mana to "dig it up". This can never be lowered or effected by mana cost, so it becomes a matter of stragety (do you give up mana to get it out back but possibly run out before your full stragety works or do you save mana while waiting for it to end?) To counter this, there can be a neutral monster card or two can that dig up slots (all slots at once, so like if its three mana and you have four slots, it'd only cost you three mana instead of four)
The monsters and cards can be themed around the underground areas such as Deepholm, Neltharion's Lair, and the Caverns. We can see niffen, drogbar, elementals, and maybe even bring back the Kobolds.
Now here's the card themes I thought of for each class:
1: Death Knight. Mushrooms (Unholy), fossils (frost), old god corruption (Blood). I thought this would be a funny idea, as part of the Titan research faciulty that would be part of the solo storyline, that all the natural fauna were experimented on...and turned out horribly wrong. Mushrooms grow on dead things, and would fit here for unholy's death and plague themes. (think fungus zombies!) Bones would be related to frost (because of "cold dead") and old god-related corruption could work for blood like how G'hunn was connected to blood-based curses.
2: Demon Hunter. Underground demons. This was a tough one, but I came up with the idea that demons long ago tried opening a portal to Azeroth and got stuck in the center of the earth instead. They are slightly berserk after centuries of being able to find their way back out.
3: Druid. Giant plants of the jungle area. In Journey to the Center of the Earth, there was a major area that was a monstrous jungle filled with dinosaurs and various monsters. And one big thing were the giant man-eating plants, so i thought that should be the druid's theme here.
4: Hunter. Giant underground beasts. These would be the same giant beasts of the jungle area. True, not very original for hunter, but most of their themes revolve around using animals like the wow class. We could have dinosaurs and giant worms for an example.
5: Mage. Lava area. I thought of this for the shaman or warrior originally, but better ideas for them came to me. Instead, I thought this would be good for the mage, focusing around fire elementals, monsters, and spells.
6: Paladin. Titanic constructs. Since many titan constructs use the light as a weapon similar to paladins, I thought this would be their theme here. Part of the story involves the underground titan faciulty Joles Burns discovers, and so would be fitting here.
7: Priest. Crystal monsters. Crystals were often believed to have healing and mystic powers, and naturally amplify light. So I thought crystal constructs and beasts would be good for the priest here.
8: Rogue. The Niffen. These guys are small, but sneaky, so I thought they'd match with the naturally stealthy rogue. Their spell cards could involve their odor-based warfare as rogue tools (such as stink bombs and explosives).
9: Shaman. Therazane and the earth elementals. This was easy to decide on after thinking about it slightly. They naturally work with the shaman's abilities and Therazane herself can be a legendary for the shaman.
10: Warlock. Fel-infected. Going back to the demon theme of the Demon Hunter, I thought in their madness, they left fel wounds all over the underground and it infected the creatures and citizens here. So you can expect fel-influenced drogbar, sniffen, and even kobolds ("NO TAKE GREEN CANDLE!!!") The legendary here can be Totswaggle, who returns after finding a strange and beautiful fel-flamed candle that messes with his already screwy mind.
11: Warrior. The Drogbar. A race of uber-chads obessed with pumping iron and building muscle? Sounds perfect for a muscle-focused class like the warrior! Here's a weapon I thought of that could be fun.
Buff-U Weight. 1/4. (5 mana). Deathrattle: Give your hero 1 attack permantely if used at least four times previously (so no cheating by switch weapons or breaking your own weapon otherwise. No cheating on the road to fitness!)
One of the legendaries here could be Dargrul, who was the king of the Drogbar in Highmountain, until the adventurers of Azeroth killed him in Neltharion's Lair as its final boss. His entrance or battle quote could be: "THE MOUNTAIN WILL GNAW AT YOUR BONES!!!" (A line he screams during the fight for one of his attacks)
So do you guys think this would be a fun expansion? Feel free to comment and add your own ideas.

Why YSK: It's a common misconception that just because you consume animal products you don't need to take B12 supplements. B12 isn't produced by animals, but is synthesised by a bacteria and archaeon. Farm animals need access to soil (cobalt) in order to produce this bacteria, which means that in many cases they themselves are injected with supplements. Combined with the facts that protein bound B12 is harder to absorb by the human body and that fruit and vegetables are sanitised before they reach your table, you may very well not be getting the recommended amount of B12. This is regardless of what kind of diet you are on, although vegan and vegetarian diet can put you at higher risk.
Factors such as age and health also play a role in how much B12 our bodies absorb. Non protein bound B12 like is found in supplements are easier to absorb and may be beneficial to battle deficiency.
If you struggle with low energy and feeling tired you may need to check you B12 levels.
Sources:
https://med.libretexts.org/Courses/Dominican_University/DU_Bio_1550%3A_Nutrition_(LoPresto)/7%3A_Vitamins/7.3%3A_Water_Soluble_Vitamins/Vitamin_B12_(Cyanocobalamin)
https://academic.oup.com/nutritionreviews/article/73/2/106/1820655
https://www.agric.wa.gov.au/livestock-biosecurity/cobalt-deficiency-sheep-and-cattle#:~:text=All%20ruminants%20(including%20sheep%2C%20cattle,vitamin%20B12%20deficiency%20in%20livestock.
Edit: word

- I'm Brazilian and I saw this in Tv Cultura as a kid arround the mid to late 2000s.
- Although I saw it in the 2000s I think it was made arround the 1980s or 1990s because it had a general old look for me but not old enough to be before that, the character designs kinda looked like that 80s Zelda cartoon.
- If I were to guess the place of origin I would say the US or maybe Europe, I highly doubt it was a Brazilian or an Asian animation.
- The place where the were before the male lead goes wandering in the forest was some kind of farm, there was a tall blonde girl wearing cowgirl-ish clothing acting as some sort of guide to them there, she was either a teenager or an young adult.
- The female lead discovers what happened to the boy thanks to some tiny mythical creature in front of the portal that explains everything to her.
- I think that magical world had some kind of overlord that ruled it but idk.
- Inside this magical world the male lead enters in an ice building (or at least a very blue one) at some point.
- I think there was a scene where the male lead gets offered a bunch of sweets in this world.
- The male lead had short black hair and used glasses I think?
- Maybe there were other kids with the female lead in the part where she is talking to the tiny creature but I'm not sure.
- There is a chance this was based on book, or that there is a book based on it, because I remember one time when I was like 12/13 years old where I was talking with a girl of the same age about a book she was reading and noticed it was very similar to what I'm talking about, this could all be coincidence too though.
Edit: Corrected some spelling mistakes

My fellow countrymen. It is with great honor to announce that I have fortunately won the primaries for the Movement for Popular Democracy. With this great honor I come to you onto this stage. I see my fellow candidates do little as to state what exactly they will bring to the table. All that this two party system does is sling mud at the other side until one is a lesser evil. I’m tired of the god damned shit that our federal government keeps doing. Our bureaucrats are supposed to be at least politicians yet they act like animals, although I’d expect no less from the internal warfare of American elitist.
Anyhow I will not complain about our two party system dividing the proletariat and diminishing politics simply to insulting and attempting to combat the others never stated nor ever even thought out policies. Rather I will state now what I plan to do as president.
I will legalize marijuana and implement a 1-5% federal taxation rate on cannabis sales.
I will establish a committee in order to assess and assist in the proper management and maintenance of the Ogallala aquifer. Which for those unfamiliar is a massive aquifer in the great plains which irrigates much of our nations agriculture.
I will cut subsidies from arms and defense companies. I will also cut the military budget. Alongside this I will greatly limit the scale of corporate bailouts. Instead the corporate bailout system will be replaced with a slow-fall system in which businesses in need of bailouts will have taxation cut then slowly replaced in order to give time for their workers to find jobs elsewhere if the company sinks.
Using funds diverted and gathered I will bring greater investment into our agriculture and industry. With invest going especially into sustainable farming.
I will implement several America First policies. The first being production policy. Bringing a slow rise on tariffs for imported goods. As well as investment into re-industrialization of the Rust Belt. Putting America first I will see to that we receive from NATO, the UN, and our allies just as much as we invest. I will ensure that our foreign aid goes to proper help if I keep foreign aid at all. Of course also implementing tariffs on authoritarian nations such as China.
I plan to introduce a large package which will change the payment of public offices. Implement progressive income taxation. As well as Implementing limits on how much one man can own. But I don’t want to scare y’all away with my leftist ideas.
Finally I will implement higher taxation on the reaping of petroleum products. Alongside this I will lower the taxation rates on renewable energy resources in order to not only to move to renewable energy but also energy independence.
If so lucky as to receive a second term I will implement policies for the freedom of the American People. Those being, eliminating income tax from teen workers, giving the states more rights, streamlining the federal government in order to circumvent over-presence, establishing online privacy policy, breaking up the CIA into a thousand, burning it, and scattering it’s ashes to wind. I will create and efficient and free government for the people of America if re-elected.
Now that I have listed my plans I hope you may hear me through and see my points. If you don’t I would gladly be available for interviews, debates, or questions. I am here to be as inspiring as Kennedy, as transparent as Perot, and bring as much prosperity to America as Reagan.
I am here to stand for America. I am here to stand for our people. I am here to stand for what is right. For Liberty, Land, and Loyalty, elect me, Bombara A. Deirer president of these United States. Thank y’all. God bless America.

This week’s vintage batch features 5 BCHR FPs from my personal collection that are 100+ years old. Some of you might recall from years ago when I shared them over in fountainpens. They are the culmination of 20 years of hunting to find the cleanest examples I could short of NOS stickered. You’d be hard pressed to find nicer examples anywhere. All retain their factory back color with factory sharp chasing and knurling as well as minimal brassing – downright rare for hard rubber pens this old. Nibs range from Flexible to Wet Noodle. As always, all are fully restored and ready to write.
 
ALBUM & TIMESTAMP
 
Pastable link: https://imgur.com/a/nJEmzN7
 
Condition (n.b.): All pens listed below have been disassembled, cleaned and restored with new sacs installed in the last couple weeks. Each of these pens is guaranteed to fill and write as designed without leaks or other problems. Nibs have been adjusted when necessary to ensure that all lay down a smooth and consistent line.
THESE PENS HAVE NO CRACKS, CHIPS, PERSONALIZATIONS, LOOSE OR MISSING PARTS, BENT NIBS, MISALIGNED TINES, BROKEN/WORN OFF TIPPING, OR THREADING ISSUES.
 
Line Widths and Writing Samples: To provide buyers with as much information as possible, I have started to adopt the following line width standards: XXF (.1-.2mm); XF (approx .3mm); F (approx .4mm); M (approx .6mm); B (approx .8mm). Nib flexibility is determined by variation (max line width under pressure) and softness (amount of pressure). Flexibility designations based on variation generally run as follows for an XF/F nib: Semi-Flex (approx. 1mm); Flex (1.2-1.9mm); Superflex (>2mm). All line width measurements are taken with a digital caliper but should be considered approximations providing a general guide. Width may vary slightly depending on type of ink and paper used as well as amount of pressure applied. All writing samples are on Rhodia dot paper using Waterman Serenity Blue.
 
 
1. c.1913 Parker Jack-Knife Lucky Curve 20 (smooth HR, NPT, button filler, 14k Superflex nib). This full-sized model measures a hair under 5 1/4” capped. Manufactured roughly 3 decades after the company was founded in 1888, this early Parker features a Safety cap (marked "Jack-Knife Safety" with a 1912 patent date) designed not to leak when carried. Early, protuberant barrel-threads situate it’s manufacture shortly after that. It's made of smooth black hard rubber with nickel-plated clip. Knurled blindcap and cliplock and “X-mas tree” Lucky Curve feed. This pen is a button filler (see detail photo in album). To fill simply unscrew the blindcap, submerse the nib, and depress the brass button once. Super-Flexible 14k Parker Lucky Curve “Lazy S” nib lays down a smooth and consistent XF line that widens to a 4B+ (approx. 2.2mm) under light pressure (see WRITING SAMPLE). Thin hairlines, superbly responsive snap-back, and reliable flow over its full range of flex make it an excellent choice for calligraphic writing styles such as Copperplate and Spencerian. Condition: near mint [B+]. Hard rubber retains its factory black color with no discernible fading. HR surface is smooth and lustrous with no deep scratches or other notable blemishes. Clip is close to pristine with no brassing or other notable flaws. Knurling is factory crisp. Manufacturer imprint on the barrel and number stamp on blindcap are factory deep and fully legible (DETAIL PHOTO). Price: $370 SOLD
 
2. c.1915 Parker Jack-Knife Lucky Curve 20 1/2 (BCHR, NPT, button filler, 14k XF Flex nib). This full-sized model measures a hair under 5 1/4” capped. Although this pen never had a number stamp, it corresponds to a 20 1/2, the ‘1/2’ designation signifying a chased pen. Like the pen above, it features a Safety cap (marked "Jack-Knife Safety" with a 1912 patent date) designed not to leak when carried. It's made of chased black hard rubber with nickel-plated clip. Knurled blindcap and cliplock and “X-mas tree” Lucky Curve feed. This pen is a button filler (see detail photo in album). To fill simply unscrew the blindcap, submerse the nib, and depress the brass button once. Flexible 14k Parker Lucky Curve “Lazy S” nib lays down a smooth and consistent XF line that widens to a 3B+ (approx. 1.8mm) under light pressure (see WRITING SAMPLE - after taking measurements, I found that this nib is situated on the upper end of Flexible). Thin hairlines, strong snap-back, and reliable flow over its full range of flex make it an excellent choice for expressive and calligraphic writing styles. Condition excellent+/near mint [B+]. Hard rubber retains its factory black color with no discernible fading. Chasing and knurling are factory deep and crisp with no discernible wear. HR surface is smooth and lustrous with no deep scratches or other notable blemishes. Clip exceptionally clean with no brassing – just a pin-sized mark here and there.. Manufacturer imprint on the barrel is deep and fully legible. Price: $340 SOLD
 
3. c.1913 Sheaffer-Clip 3A (BCHR, NPT, lever filler, 14k XXF/XF Superflex/Wet Noodle nib). This full-sized model measures 5 3/8” capped. It was Walter A. Sheaffer who first patented the lever-filling fountain pen in 1908. In 1912 he founded the Sheaffer pen company and his revolutionary design was met with resounding acclaim. In the 1910s, when the pocket clip and lever filler were recent innovations, Sheaffer pens were typically marked "Sheaffer-Clip" on the clips and "Self-Filling" on the nibs to distinguish them from the oldfangled clipless eyedroppers of other makers. Most of their model lineup in this period – before stiff, manifold nibs became the rage in the mid-20s - was comprised of simple black hard rubber pens with long-tined gold nibs every bit as flexible as early Waterman's but known for their more responsive snap-back. This 3A is made of black chased hard rubber with nickel-plated furniture, epitomizing the simple, utilitarian aesthetic of the era. Oval barrel imprint including "Patents Pending" inscription pertaining to Sheaffer's first patent for a double (pressure) bar lever-filler, a patent that was granted in 1914. This and the protuberant barrel threads pin this pen down to the first couple years of production of Sheaffer's Self-Filling pen. So early is this example in the evolution of FP design that it bears the cap imprint of a hand pointing in the direction the cap is to be unscrewed (see album photo) – a relic of a time when most FPs were slip caps. 14k #3 Sheaffer Self-Filling nib yields Super-Flexible variation with softness verging on a Wet Noodle. It lays down a smooth and consistent XXF/XF line that widens to a 4B+ (approx. 2.3mm) under very light pressure (see WRITING SAMPLE). Close-to-needlepoint hairlines, superbly responsive snap-back, and reliable flow over its full range of flex make it an ideal choice for calligraphic writing styles such as Copperplate and Spencerian. Condition: excellent+/near mint [B+]. Hard rubber retains its factory black color with no discernible fading. Chasing and knurling are factory deep and crisp with no discernible wear. HR surface is smooth and lustrous with no deep scratches or other notable blemishes. Nickel-plated trim is exceptionally clean aside from a spot of wear on the top left corner of the clip. Manufacturer imprint on the barrel and number stamp on blindcap are factory deep and fully legible (DETAIL PHOTO). Price: $370 SOLD
 
4. 1920s Sheaffer No. 2 (BCHR - “changing lanes” pattern, NPT, lever filler, 14k XXF Needlepoint Wet Noodle nib). This full-sized model measures 5 3/8” capped. As Sheaffer entered the 1920s, they experimented with innovative materials and chasing patterns. Their hard rubber pens were generally more stable, i.e. less susceptible to oxidation. And they introduced eye-catching Art Deco patterns like the one on this HR pen, known to collectors as “Changing Lanes” for its resemblance to the painted indicators on the highway (even if this pen predates the US highway system by decades). Nickel-plated lever and clip simply marked ‘Sheaffer’s.” 14k Sheaffer #2 nib is a Wet Noodle in no uncertain terms with flow and doftness comparable to that of a dip pen. It lays down a smooth and consistent Needlepoint XXF line that widens to a 4B+ (see WRITING SAMPLE under minimal pressure (approx. 2.3mm). Needlepoint hairlines, phenomenally responsive snap-back, and reliable flow over its full range of flex make it an ideal choice for calligraphic writing styles such as Copperplate and Spencerian. Condition: near mint [B+]. +]. Hard rubber retains its factory black color with no discernible fading. Chasing is factory deep and crisp with no discernible wear. HR surface is smooth and lustrous with no deep scratches or other notable blemishes. Nickel-plated trim is pristine with no brassing or other noteworthy wear. Manufacturer imprint on the barrel is factory deep and fully legible. Price: $370 SOLD
 
5. c.1915 A.A. Waterman No. 3 (BCHR, NPT, twist filler, 14k XF Superflex nib). This full-sized model measures a lengthy 5 9/16” capped. Arthur Allan Waterman began his career as a traveling salesman for the L. E. Waterman Co. in the 1880s-90s. In 1897, he left L.E. Waterman to found his own company in Boston by name of A. A. Waterman Pen Co., under which several new patents were approved, including his innovative twist-filling system. For L.E. and F.D. Waterman, who had just lost one of their best men, “favorably known to almost every dealer in the country,” this was a bitter pill to swallow. To make a LONG STORY short, A.A. Waterman’s “betrayal” in the eyes of the monopolistic L.E. Waterman company, his use of the address formerly associated with L.E., as well as his appropriation of “Ideal” and “Waterman’s Ideal” to advertise his pens, culminated in a lawsuit against A.A. that was settled in 1898. A.A. would come to found and later be forced out of a new company named the Modern Pen Co., but he continued to be hounded by L.E. Waterman’s lawyers into 1912, when A.A. Waterman was now legally bound to imprint their pens “Not connected with the L. E. Waterman Company”. Much of this fraught history is included on the lengthy barrel imprint of this pen, which reads: “Arthur A. Waterman & Co. NY. / Modern Pen Co. Successor / Pat. Nov. 17. ’03. Oct. 11. ’04. Aug 31. ’15 / Not Connected with the L.E. Waterman Co.” A twist-filler with patented clip, this pen is the fruit of all A.A. Waterman’s efforts. It’s mad of black chased hard rubber with slip cap and nickel-plated clip. The filler operates on the same principle as other pens with sacs, except that one twists the sac instead of compressing it to create the necessary vacuum to fill with ink. To fill one simply twists the blindcap 1-1.5 turns, submerses the nib, and lets the blindcap twist back to its starting position. Super-Flexible 14k AA Waterman #3 nib with clover-shaped breather is a lovely writer. It lays down a smooth and consistent XF line that widens to a 4B+ (approx. 2.2mm) under light pressure (see WRITING SAMPLE). Thin hairlines, strong snap-back, and reliable flow over its full range of flex make it another excellent choice for calligraphic writing styles such as Copperplate and Spencerian. Condition: near mint [B+]. Difficult to repair and scarcer than comparable L.E. Watermans, these pens are exceedingly tough to find clean. The repair involves knocking a tiny pin out of the blindcap, removing the tiny section that’s been glued in from the factory, and attaching a sac cut at both end to length to the blindcap stem and the section. I repaired this one myself and am proud to say it works without a hitch and reliably fills to factory capacity. Cosmetically, this pen is also quite the gem. Hard rubber retains its factory black color with no discernible fading. Chasing is factory deep and crisp with no discernible wear. HR surface is smooth and lustrous with no deep scratches or other notable blemishes. Nickel-plated clip is pristine with no brassing or other noteworthy wear. Voluminous manufacturer imprint on the barrel is factory deep and fully legible. Price: $380 SOLD
 
 
 
Shipping: Pens purchased on the weekend are mailed on Tuesday. Otherwise they are mailed within 2 business days of payment. All pens that do not come with their original boxes are packaged in PVC or thick plastic tubes to protect them in transit. To CONUS locations the following shipping options are available:

• USPS First-Class with tracking for $5 Due to the delivery delays that continue under postmaster general DeJoy, I strongly recommend that the Priority shipping option be chosen. All packages will include full insurance (covered by me). Rest assured that a full refund is guaranteed (issued through Paypal) in the event of a lost parcel and you will not have to wait until I receive a reimbursement from the USPS.
  
• USPS Priority with tracking for $9
  

International Customers: Please contact me for shipping quote if located abroad (delivery confirmation required). (Note: due to the issues stated above, my international shipping options are currently limited. PM for more info). Please do not ask me to commit mail fraud by altering the declared value of a pen for customs. Not only am I registered as a business but shipping insurance is based on declared value.
New York Customers: For tax purposes, I am now required to add an 8% sales tax on any sale made in the state of NY. If your shipping address is in NY state, please let me know before payment to receive an adjusted total. Discounted shipping is included for NY State residents to help defray the extra cost.
Ordering: Pens are placed on hold for the first person to reply to the thread and PM me with firm request to purchase (no chat DMs please). A request with the words “I'd like to purchase [pen number]” would be best to avoid confusion), to which I’ll reply with payment details. Please note that a message inquiring into a price discount does not suffice to place a pen on hold. If I haven't received Paypal payment within 24 hrs after a hold is placed, then pen(s) may become available to the next person.
Payment, & Guarantee: Payment by Paypal only. All pens are guaranteed to be in the condition in which I've described them. If I've missed something objectionable or the filling mechanism is not fully functional, the buyer may contact me up to 7 days after receiving the pen for a full refund (issued once I receive the pen back in the same condition as sold). Buyer must ship the return no later than 2 weeks after it was delivered to receive a refund. I've sold pens online for over a decade. Please check my past listings here as well as on the classifieds and historical sales forums on FPN (username: Estragon) and FPGeeks (popcod) for some of my previous offerings.
 
 
OTHER OPEN LISTINGS:

• Sheaffer Juniors and Superflex Moore Shell
  
• Unbranded BCHR Superflex
  
• Wet Noodle Dip Pen Customized Wright-Weidlich Simplofiller and Superflex Sheaffer Ring Top
  
• Waterman Junior
  
• Superflex Waterman 15 Eyedropper w/ Keyhole nib, Aikin Lambert Capitol Cabinet
  
• Parker Vacumatic Major
  
• Salz "Wendy" Doll Head Pen
  
• Solid Gold Ring Top
  
• Conklin Enduras, Nozac
  
• Superflex, Stub Burnhams in Colorful Casein