here’s the wall I did:

https://m.imgur.com/a/R4qsZFq

We recently had a rewire done in our flat, and the electricians did not cover our hardwood floors with dust sheets. The floors are now covered in plaster dust, and despite several mops with vinegar water, the grey, dull coating does not seem to be disappearing. Worse still, the dust seems to be settling into all the tiny scratches in our wood (from previous owner’s cat claws) and I can’t find a way to get it out.

Any tips for getting the plaster dust off floors? They are varnished wood.

Please don’t give me advice on charging cleaning to the electricians etc. We are literally traumatised by the entire experience and want to avoid ever thinking of them again. Just looking for practical cleaning tips.

Edit: we can’t afford to have them refinished at the moment, so we’re looking for something DIY at the moment. We understand we’ll need to get them resanded and varnished at some point in the future, but it would cost thousands where we are, so we’d like a solution as a stop gap in the meantime.

UPDATE: thank you for all the helpful responses. A few more goes with a new mop and changing the bucket after every few strokes lifted quite a bit more dust up: I think I didn’t quite realise just how often you have to change the water. Basically as soon as it got slightly grey, I changed it and rinsed the mop. The secret though, was to dry as I mopped using a microfiber cloth and changing to a new one as soon as it was dirty. I think this is what made the biggest difference: the cloth lifted loads of dust and it stopped it simply drying into the floor after mopping.

What did the trick for the worst areas ended up being getting down on my hands and knees and using a ‘wood floor wipe’ to scrub every single plaster-filled scratch i could see. I then oiled and buffed it using jojoba oil I had handy (Lol) which seemed to lift up quite a bit of dust, as well as restore some shine and lustre. I’m going over the floors regularly with a swiffer filled with wood floor cleaner which also seems to be helping. Overall, I definitely learned me lesson to stick to special wood products and oil based stuff and NEVER to use vinegar on my wooden floors again!!!

Chapter 92

The Abyss layer 113, Thanatos. Throne room of Everlost Palace. Earlier that day.

Agy was back on his perch behind Orcus in the Everlost Palace. He had given Orcus the bad news about the loss of his undead army, all of his army, and was rewarded with the gift of undeath. Now with his skeletal wings and skeletal body Agy no longer had to worry about getting tired or eating or drinking. He still hungered for things though, he longed for the cold embrace of moist soil and the taste of living flesh. But he would have to eat later. Right now Agy was watching Orcus use a scrying orb to find the one responsible for his lack of an undead army.

Orcus knew that this Lilith creature must have been related to the actions of Lathander as her conquest of the 600th layer of the Abyss had happened at the same time that his undead army in Thanatos disappeared. But he had no idea what they looked like so he was unable to scry on them without a face to put to the name. With that being a dead end he decided to scry on Delvia instead. Somehow she was alive even though every other demon in the Endless Maze had been killed, even Baphomet. But more importantly she had destroyed one of his symbols and killed one of his servants. And while it was unthinkable for a demon to work with a god like Lathander he suspected her survival might point at that very possibility. “Is that Kali walking by her side? And since when did Delvia travel with snakes around her neck?” He asked one of his generals.

“I have a report here on Kali my lord.” the Goristro said as he lifted a large book from a near by shelf and placed it on a desk next to the Demon Lord.

Agy gulped at the sight of the large tome. ‘I wouldn’t want to get shut inside of that one.’ he thought his skeletal tail twitching at the mere sight of the massive book.

“Why do we have such a large file on Kali? How much time and resources did you spend looking in on this reject of a god?” Orcus asked his voice thundering with anger.

“Well master, she was once believed to be interested in killing you and taking over your godly domain of death. You know back when you were still a god.”

“You fools this pitiful woman tends to her forest and sculpts her island of bones. She does nothing else. She is a shut in and would have never dared raise a hand against me. Meanwhile Kiaransalee blind sided us and killed me taking my divinity. You lot

Getting onto the housing market as a new home owner is hell. It is perhaps one of the worst experiences you can possibly have, especially when you're getting your first mortgage and then finding out just how much it's going to set you back. That, of course, says nothing to the insane amount of time you're paying that thing off for, worse if you're seemingly allergic to long term employment like I am.

Still, I feel like I've lucked out here. Living at my parents' old house had become untenable, in no small part due to the normal societal convention of "If you're older than 18, you should have your ass out that door," that many of us love so much. So, I was set with having to house hunt as best as I could.

Not like I was ever what you call "close" to my parents. My dad seemed particularly distant at times, but I reckon you can attribute that to the fact he grew up in a time where affection was a dirty thing. You know, that time period where showing a bit of ankle would get you caned?

Either way, money was something of a nebulous quality when you look for a place where you won't have to sleep on the road. Usually, people like to picture it as this chance to start a fresh new life, that by buying house it makes you seem like more of a man.

Well, here I am, a dirty and desperate man who takes terrible care of himself, lucking out with someone wanting to offload a house he said had been in his family for generations. Of course, this all sounded wayyyyyyyyyyy too good to be true. Some random sadshack was willing to sell his house to some half-jobless deadbeat?

Needless to say, there was indeed a catch. Hence, my complaints about mortgages. The bank was always a dick to me in the best of times, and now that I was saddled with this cheap shack, they were taking the worst of times and deciding to dance on my unfiled grave. Apparently, I was going to have take out two mortgages on this place, just to cover the costs of the repairs that were going to be needed.

Absolutely wonderful, I know. However, I still really feel like I lucked out here. There's only so much time in this world, and as much as I would like to spend it all complaining, there's better things for me to be doing.

Like, for example, finally being able to rest my weary legs on the nice sofa/chair combo that the previous owner had set up. It was pristine, had some fine quilting covering the otherwise well crafted leather, and, most importantly of all, it was comfortable.

The whole place, con

#Alien-Nation Chapter 75: Award

Well, that took a while.

Next

AWARD

It was the morning of the Award, and despite my nerves, I managed to put myself to sleep the night before by practicing logistics problems in my head.

You have thirty bags of ammonium nitrate at the Warehouse and you need to move them to Camp Death within 48 hours... a distance of twenty miles. Each...bag weighs...

When I woke, I felt an electric, nervous energy that didn’t dissipate even after my shower, my exfoliation, and all my other morning routine work. I hadn’t even seen my mother but I knew she was bustling about like a bee in a flower shop.

I heard my Omni-Pad go off, and I wandered back to my room, got dressed and scooped it up, making my way downstairs toward the kitchen. Natalie’s smiling face looked up at me, and I smiled back even though her profile picture couldn’t see me.

• Hey, are you up yet?

• I can’t wait to see you.

• We’re on our way, Gwen’s with us.

I wrote back - ‘I just finished getting dressed.’

• We just flew across the Brandywine- I can see the bridge from here.

Knowing how fast their car could fly, I figured it was almost time and announced to the house, “They’ll be here in a few minutes!”

I rounded the corner from the entrance hall to the dining room, and headed for the kitchen. I was about to type out a quick response to Natalie on the old omni-pad when motion from the gigantic window in the dining room jerked my attention away.

Almost as if on cue, a Shil' troop transport drove up to the curb - Mother's audible gasp was reflective of my own adrenaline spiking as Marines started disembarking the boxy vehicle and striding up the front yard. Having them on the property was like a snapshot from one of my worst nightmares, but I forced myself to calm down. This wasn't a surgical strike; their gaits were relaxed, almost casual. One of the helmeted Marines scanned across the front of the house, did a double take as her gaze passed the window, and gave me a small awkward wave before hustling the rest of the way up the lawn to her comrades.

Sure enough, rather than storming the front door and hauling me away in chains, the Marines encircled the house, meeting in the back and doing a half-hearted sweep of the yard, before one finally came to a stop and signaled into the sky at something yet-unseen. Some sort of 'All Clear' signal?

Mom startled a

After the pandemic began and lockdowns bound many of us to our homes, interest surged in kitchen knives and Japanese ones in particular. Increased demand strained an already limited supply. Forum chatter increased as searchers cast their nets wider in response to shortages. On KitchenKnifeForums (KKF), a user named Omega rose to prominence thanks to a series of posts about the Konosuke company. His intensive research put him in contact with vendors and craftsmen in Japan and North America - that combined with exhaustive data collection made others look to him as an expert and his article on Konosuke is still cited today across KKF, Facebook knife groups, and even here on Reddit.

But in late 2020, he was publicly chastised for his research on social media. In response to clarifications about a knife’s steel provenance, a respected North American vendor stepped in to transmit a clear message from Japanese craftsmen and industry professionals: knock it off. From the post comments, “If you don’t speak the language well…you should probably refrain from making public comments about [this]...please moving forward, try to avoid posting about things you don’t truly understand or grasp. It’s important for all of us to know our limits.”

To knife fans, the Omega melodrama lands somewhere between confusing and fascinating. In an arena with such demand for information and commentary, his contributions seem like some of the few resources that combine factual data and citations with actual narrative commentary. So where did the backlash come from?

I want to shed some light on the story. My aim is to answer three questions:

1. Why do forums care so much about brands, craftspeople, and secrets of tradecraft?
2. Why such a harsh response from the industry?
3. Is enthusiast investigation of knife production ultimately a doomed enterprise?

One last thing before jumping in - those familiar with the Omega controversy tend to feel quite strongly about it and already have an opinion. If you feel the same way - either righteous fury toward the craftspeople/vendors or schadenfreude that a naïve forum poster got his comeuppance - I invite you to put aside those feelings and approach the story fresh. You may be surprised.

Part 1: Why do forums care so much?

Let’s begin by reviewing common knowledge about production. In general, there are separate entities involved in the production and sale of your knife. Common entities are as follows:

1. Steel manufacturer:

First part: https://www.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/s2nk24/conjunction_part_1/

***

Caden leaned over the yellowed parchment as the Master gestured to the map that had been drawn onto the aged scroll. It showed the world as it had been known at the time, the continents and landmasses oddly shaped, not quite true to their real-world dimensions. They were still recognizable, but it didn’t exactly fill Caden with confidence. The Master had placed a more modern map beside it and was using it as a reference to make better sense of what they were seeing, turning to his mountain of notes as he translated the place names.

“Our kingdom did not exist during the fourth age,” he began. “The territory that we now inhabit was home to several smaller city-states. It is hard to say whether these coastlines have changed significantly over time, or if the cartographers of the era simply did a poor job of reproducing them. The borders of our kingdom end here,” he said, gesturing to the old map with his bony finger. “Although we are on good terms with neighboring powers, the roads can be treacherous. In these trying times, banditry is on the rise, and the more remote areas are reported to be plagued by highwaymen.”

“That is why you thought it necessary to arm me,” Caden muttered, his mentor replying with a solemn nod.

“Avoid the cities and large towns as you head East. Follow the roads, the more well-trodden, the better. There are many small villages and hamlets along the route where you might seek shelter in taverns and inns. Remember, you must not advertise the nature of your quest. Tell no one who you are or where you are headed. Assume a new identity if you must.”

He slowly dragged his finger to the right, referencing the modern map as he went.

“This land bridge connects our continent to the Eastern peninsula. From there, our knowledge grows spotty.”

Caden looked over the parchment, the depictions of green forests and hills gradually giving way to sandy deserts and barren wilderness.

“There are other kingdoms even further East that are said to be civilized,” he continued, “but this expanse of desert is oft-rumored to be inhabited by tribes of savages and feral beasts that have made establishing trade routes over land impossible. None now venture there, save for a few brave explorers who have brought back word of harsh conditions and hostile natives.”

“And...my destination is right in the middl

Setting by u/BlueFishcake

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“Mr. McClendon, please stop.”

“No.”

“I have your breakfast right here! Won’t you please just lay down and eat?”

“I’m not hungry. Where are my clothes?”

The nurse threw up her hands. “In the garbage! They were cut off of your body, Mr. McClendon! And they were torn to shreds before that!”

“Fine, I’ll make a toga.”

The nurse leapt forward as Levi moved to strip the sheet off of the hospital bed. “Mr. McClendon, stop! You’re going to hurt yourself!”

“I’ll be fine.” He tried, and failed, to suppress a pained grunt when the sheet didn’t come away from the bed as easily as he had expected it to.

“Young man, I will call your mother!”

“Please do.” Levi tried to step around the nurse, resulting in a kind of shuffling dance as she stayed between him and the bed. “Let her know that I intend to spend as little time as possible anywhere near THAT BITCH!” He glared at the wall in the direction of the room at the far end of the ward.

“Mr. McClendon, please! There are people still sleeping!”

Levi’s cheeks flushed and he hung his head. “...sorry.”

The nurse sighed. “Mr. McClendon, I understand your frustration. And, again, I’m very sorry about last night. But you saw for yourself that she can’t hurt you.” The nurse paused with a thoughtful frown. “Well, maybe she could kick you, if you go lean over her bed, but nonetheless, she is in no condition to make a nuisance of herself.”

Levi glared at the floor.

“Now, would you please take your medication and lie back down? At least eat your breakfast!”

“I can eat standing up.” Levi growled as he shuffled carefully towards the table.

The nurse rolled her eyes. “And your meds?”

“I’m fine.” He winced as he picked up the plate of scrambled eggs and started shoveling them into his mouth.

“You’re not fine, you’re in pain! I can see it! Your breathing is shallow, you’re stiff, and you’re wincing every time you move when you think I’m not looking!”

Levi paused his inhalation of the food briefly to look over at the nurse, gritting his teeth as the numerous scabs and bruises on his neck shrieked in protest. What started as an attempt to star

27th of the Spring Harvest.

48°52.6 S 123° 23.6’ W

Air pressure within point of interest: 800 millibars

Estimated wind speeds: 320 km/h

Eye width: 10km and closing

- 20 kilometres from the rim of Gods wrath, travelling south -

It has been 7 weeks since they had left port. 5 weeks since news of the coalition between the Argile and Oviron empires reached them. 3 days since they crossed paths with the first of their ships moving east. All ships carrying the flag of freedom were now prey in an ocean of predators. There were no safe harbours left.

The tyrannical empires of the world were making their latest push. In search of the keys, two of them, to topple the sacred pillars to the north and south. By accomplishing that feat, they would once and for all be capable of tearing the colourful night sky down. Undoing the works of their ancient benefactors.

One of the keys had found its way onto his ship, and it was from her this news had reached him. If only he had stayed in port at Kassau for a week longer. Maybe his presence alongside his fellow freebooters could have turned the tides of the raid upon their home. With the destruction of all other ships at port, he could very well be the last ship sailing with their flag still flying high.

If they sink, so would the Republic. And with that, the Tyrants would finally be able to welcome their overlords who were already scratching at the skies from above. The colourful night sky being the only thing that was keeping them from success.

To avoid the frigates of war. Captain Heskle had been forced to turn his ship around him and head west. Chased to the wall of the cursed sea, he then turned south to avoid the ‘Wrath of the gods’.

A name given to a great swath of the grand seas of Obsi where an eternal storm stood. Its placing known to all sailors and map makers throughout the globe. It was present in all maps, even backdating to very first map ever made by the legendary mapmaker Sinovil of Narth.

With a measured circumference of 2’000 km, it was a force to be reckoned with. Every sailor, new and old, knows to take its placing with great reverence when sailing through the waters surrounding it. No captain wants to be put in a position where they must consider sailing through it, for those who have have never re-emerged.

Unfortunately, Heskle found himself in that position now. It was like that saying amongst landlubbers; between a cliff and a rolling boulder. He was currentl

I don't want to step on anybody's toes here, but the amount of non-dad jokes here in this subreddit really annoys me. First of all, dad jokes CAN be NSFW, it clearly says so in the sub rules. Secondly, it doesn't automatically make it a dad joke if it's from a conversation between you and your child. Most importantly, the jokes that your CHILDREN tell YOU are not dad jokes. The point of a dad joke is that it's so cheesy only a dad who's trying to be funny would make such a joke. That's it. They are stupid plays on words, lame puns and so on. There has to be a clever pun or wordplay for it to be considered a dad joke.

Again, to all the fellow dads, I apologise if I'm sounding too harsh. But I just needed to get it off my chest.

My name is Jean Bart, the Vichya Dominion's last cutting-edge battleship, who needn't rely on anyone but herself for strength. Yet… I've found myself utterly infatuated with my commander. The mere sight of him makes me weak. Being near him is like a drug. How did this happen? Now he wants me to be next secretary. My heart's racing. How long can I hide my feelings? Or… should I?

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13658606/25/A-Pirate-s-Crush

Jean Bart is back! Thanks everyone for your patience and understanding. I'm doing much better now, living alone and employed again, and much more stabilized in life. So, here's what I'm currently doing: I'm going through the entire story and doing polishing, fat-trimming, and revising on all of it, not only to refamiliarize myself, but to make significant improvements. The story was decent before, but I think I can do much better. Chapters 1-5 have been updated, and I plan to continue after this is posted. I think the story and characterization is MUCH better now. Don't worry, the core plotline is the same. I want to give Jean Bart the best story I can give her.

This is also a bit of a shorter chapter, but it felt appropriate to truncate it this way for what's gonna happen next.

Anyway, without further ado, here's Ch.25. I hope it was worth the wait. See you again in due time. Cheers.

----------------------------

Alright Jean, you can do this. One... two...

...damn. My hand didn’t move. Again. It still dangled beside me, hoping to be seen by the commander. Hoping he’d take the hint.

This was me as we went tent by tent. Sure, we sampled some of the sights, but it was difficult to do so. Too distracted trying to breach the wall between my hand and the commander’s. That wall being… well… myself.

C’mon, Jean. Just reach out. One... two...

...you know what? This is too much to do outright. Let’s just ask him instead. Play it safe.

One... two...

...nothing. Damn it, why is this so hard?

...that painting of the couple... it didn’t feel like a date until then. After that, it hit me like a salvo. Suddenly, I felt like I was missing something. Something that all other couples around us were doing.

“Jean?”

“Huh?”

Ah... shoot. I’ve been dead silent again.

“I’m fine,” I said, already anticipating what he was gonna say.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “You look tense.”

“I’m just... thinking,” I said.

“Is there anything you wanna talk about?” he asked.

Tsk... the

Part One / Part Two / Part Three

(Mild self-harm warning)

As Isaac continued to lead the tour with slightly more pep than before, I sat quietly, never leaving my seat nor speaking a single word. After helplessly witnessing a man get electrocuted to death only for everyone to laugh about his gruesome fate, my mind was largely numb, simply struggling to not replay the scene over and over on a loop. Even as Isaac shocked more unfortunate beasts into showing themselves while the tour progressed, I was a ghost among the jovial heathens, despite my heart thundering in my chest with each zap and subsequent cry of pain.

Additionally, Isaac’s satisfied grin as the rich man convulsed and cooked burned itself into my mind like a brand onto a heifer’s hide. No matter how desperately I tried to rid myself of it, the image was a scar among my self-numbing brain. I merely wished for the tour to conclude, so that I could leave Isaac’s side without offending him. I feared what he would do otherwise.

Finally, after a couple hours, we left the open safari area and entered an exhibition known as the ‘Curious Wonders.’ From feeding and my notes, I knew the creatures housed here were of either the most unique or the most ‘entertaining’ variety. Still, I had not seen them all, as a few had hidden themselves among their décor during breakfast, but I knew Isaac wouldn’t allow them to hide for the patrons’ presence. More would be blatantly electrocuted, and I would feel my stomach curl into tighter knots. Inevitably, I would feel the cold claws of helpless compassion grip my soul all over, again and again.

Blankly, I stared as Isaac quickly showcased a snake with two heads and spiked scales that glittered like solid gold. I did nothing while he talked about two furballs which comically rolled and jumped like cartoons. And even as he boasted about the cat-ape named Ginko I had read about upon my initial arrival, I barely looked at the beast. None of them phased me. None of the strange, unique creatures ripped my mind away from itself, until we came to the middle of the division.

Instinctively, my eyes landed on its visage as it moved in my periphery from behind its glass

Disclaimer, this is a fanfic only, all credit belongs to u/BlueFishcake alone.

also this is my first time self editing so if anything is messed up or if there's an error please leave a comment

if dialogue is Bold they're talking in Trade Shil and if dialogue is Italicized then the MC is talking internally to his AI

Also I've added another L to Carmilla to make it read better

I'd also like to thank u/MajnaBunny for supporting me throughout this whole process and expanding on the background of the Bureau in his Moral grey area story line, so please show the brother some love by reading his new Stalker SSB story

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Palisades

The Black-Cap left the A1 motorway behind it sometime ago and was weaving in and out of traffic of Hitchin township north of London, Arthur watched as the medieval period A

architecture passed by, and when they reached the coordinates, he instructed the driver to pull over he then paid and tipped him generously as the man had driven him all the way from heathrow.

As he stood on the cobbled street he breathed in the warm crisp air of human history, that's when Carmilla’s voice took on a neutral monaton “Go straight for 200 meters, then turn left” as he started walking he could see her in his vision giggling at her own impersonation of a famous satnav service as she mapped out his route toward Palisade Safehouse - Rosewood.

-

The former Bureau operative Wraith whos real name is Aleksandra walked back and forth in the sub basement of the farm house that served as their regional safe house, and on the couch was Kitsune or as her associates know her by her real name Sakura, listened to the other woman bitch about the conversation she had with Sir Phillip, or as she was now referring to him as ‘That Old Bastard’ regarding her now orders.

“So after that posh jack bastard Nuada left, we walked around the garden” Aleksandra gesitulated angrily as if she was trying to throttle someone.

Sakura’s current strategy was to interrupt her sister/comrade in arms so she wouldn’t build up steam so much to the point where she’d be incoherent

I knew when I married him that Don was a good man, but not a smart one. That's partly why I loved him. It's also why he was such a good fit for the Marathon County Sheriff's Department. Kind-hearted, followed orders, too happy obeying to ask questions. Exactly what you want in a cop.

I fell in love with Don for a lot of reasons. He always stood up straight, always showered twice a day, ironed every damn shirt he wore. He was a proud man, and it was those little things he was proud of that I found so damn adorable. Gentle, too. Never raised a hand to anyone unless he absolutely had to. What didn't matter to me was that Don had never been the sharpest knife in the rack.

I always knew Don wasn't smart. I didn't think he was stupid. I learned how wrong I was when he came home one night with that damn statue.

When I asked him why on Earth he'd bring evidence from a crime scene home in the first place he told me he didn't know. I was sympathetic at first, you know? Not angry, not terrified like I am now. I thought he'd been unable to part with it because of some kind of post-traumatic stress.

Like I said, my Don was kind-hearted. "Soft" was the word my father, who definitely isn't kind-hearted, used. That's another part of what made Don such a good cop in these parts though. You needed softness when settling violent disputes between drunk couples or picking up strung-out tweakers from the curb all day, especially when every perp knew you since you were knee-high to a grasshopper.

Marathon County ain't the kind of place where nights like the one he found the statue happened.

It was a triple homicide. Don had dealt with his share of murders, but never a multiple body count. I saw how rattled he was as soon as he damn near fell through the door. I'd been married to him for eight years, dating for six before that. High school sweethearts, that old chestnut. In none of those 14 journeys round the sun had I ever seen my man so pale, so shaking, so distraught. You know them photos of the WW1 soldiers with the thousand-yard stare? Yeah, if you do you've seen the look my Don had on his face that night.

He didn't say anything to me the entire evening. He sat down, put the statue on the table, downed a glass of water, then went to bed. Not one single word in my direction. Didn't even meet my damn gaze. I didn't find out from Don what happened but from his boss, Sheriff Harwurst, an old family friend (as most folk round here are).

Harwurst painted a grim

[FIRST][PREVIOUS][NEXT]

(Chapter title error, it's 115 to 118)

Chapter 115 Barry

Barry couldn’t believe his eyes.

The canine maiden stood, her back turned to him, leaning forward, growling, facing off the feline feral as her body flickered with dark energy. For a brief moment, she paused, looking over her shoulder at the human, before turning back to growl at the feline harder still.

Barry’s head spun, not wanting to waste his good fortune. His eyes darted around in an attempt to determine the quickest route to safety. His shoulder throbbed. The feline had gouged into it with her claws, blood was dribbling its way down his arm. The adrenaline was likely the only reason why he wasn’t incapacitated by the pain by now.

The moment the Hound moved towards the feral, Barry began to slowly inch away, trying to keep a careful eye out for any other familiar faces. Or rather, at the very least, he hoped to spot some way out of this nightmare. The fights happening all around were growing wild as those strange powers were flying all over. The ferals seemed to have stopped their push, but the remaining fights were all equally lethal to him if he got too close.

The Elves fought by summoning plants to their side, attacking the ferals from underneath or from above, arrows piercing through the moment they couldn’t escape. The Dark Elves, on the other hand, danced with their blades, seeking to cut the distance and approach their targets. The ferals for their part moved far more wildly. Most sought to attack through claw and fang, moving in from opposite directions and barely using enough coordination between each other. A few would throw elemental powers from a safer distance, lightning and fire being the most frequent. The battle was slowly turning to the advantage of the elves while the Dark Elves were barely managing to hold on.

A bark drew Barry’s attention back to the Hound. The noise had been loud and clear, powerful enough it startled everyone else. But especially the feline. The dark-haired maiden’s body darkened as she lunged forward, her form blurring as if, for a second, she lost her shape. The feral tried to dodge, jumping out of the way. Except the Hound had not been there, instead emerging ou

Setting by u/BlueFishcake

First | Previous | Next

“Mr. McClendon, please stop.”

“No.”

“I have your breakfast right here! Won’t you please just lay down and eat?”

“I’m not hungry. Where are my clothes?”

The nurse threw up her hands. “In the garbage! They were cut off of your body, Mr. McClendon! And they were torn to shreds before that!”

“Fine, I’ll make a toga.”

The nurse leapt forward as Levi moved to strip the sheet off of the hospital bed. “Mr. McClendon, stop! You’re going to hurt yourself!”

“I’ll be fine.” He tried, and failed, to suppress a pained grunt when the sheet didn’t come away from the bed as easily as he had expected it to.

“Young man, I will call your mother!”

“Please do.” Levi tried to step around the nurse, resulting in a kind of shuffling dance as she stayed between him and the bed. “Let her know that I intend to spend as little time as possible anywhere near THAT BITCH!” He glared at the wall in the direction of the room at the far end of the ward.

“Mr. McClendon, please! There are people still sleeping!”

Levi’s cheeks flushed and he hung his head. “...sorry.”

The nurse sighed. “Mr. McClendon, I understand your frustration. And, again, I’m very sorry about last night. But you saw for yourself that she can’t hurt you.” The nurse paused with a thoughtful frown. “Well, maybe she could kick you, if you go lean over her bed, but nonetheless, she is in no condition to make a nuisance of herself.”

Levi glared at the floor.

“Now, would you please take your medication and lie back down? At least eat your breakfast!”

“I can eat standing up.” Levi growled as he shuffled carefully towards the table.

The nurse rolled her eyes. “And your meds?”

“I’m fine.” He winced as he picked up the plate of scrambled eggs and started shoveling them into his mouth.

“You’re not fine, you’re in pain! I can see it! Your breathing is shallow, you’re stiff, and you’re wincing every time you move when you think I’m not looking!”

Levi paused his inhalation of the food briefly to look over at the nurse, gritting his teeth as the numerous scabs and bruises on his neck shrieked in protest. What started as an attempt to stare h

Do your worst!