Just context, you can skip this long ass read. Tl;dr, everything was okay, for several years of varying stress levels, until it VERY suddenly wasn't. If you can, at least just skim the important bits and advise me on how the fuck to cope with this.
Everything was okay around a month ago. Our situation hasn't been good, but we were handling it and excited for a growth opportunity like we've never had.
She has PTSD, but she's always managed herself well, aside from a brief period years back where some impending doom set in while confronting some of her trauma. She sought out therapy, and even just by the end of her first session she was improving a ton. It wasn't long before she was back to her normal self, but even better for it.
Problem is, we've been under tremendous stress for around two years.
Our rescue macaw passed away from a viral wasting disease, and he was the closest thing we'd had to a child. We had him for most of our ten years together.
We had our (rental) home sold out from under us in the middle of a rental crisis. Basically the only option we had left was to move in with her family 2,400 miles away, onto their ranch. She couldn't continue therapy when we moved.
They were contributors to her childhood traumas, but she was so sure they'd changed and were ready to be the people she needed them to be many years ago.
I was extremely skeptical that the people who hadn't extended a finger to us, let alone a hand, through several years of struggling through a lot of hard shit, suddenly wanted to give us a near-free ride. But I think her sheer optimism for it just made me feel like I was being an awful cynic, so I just shoved it down and bought into her fantasy. For her sake, as I thought at the time. Maybe she was right, after all.
She was wrong, and it went about as well as you'd expect. Honestly probably a lot worse. Her grandmother and father are manipulative, narcissistic assholes, whether or not they realize that's what they are. They bait and switched on us hard, whether they meant to or not.
The picture that was painted was that we'd live in the spare trailer on their property and pay our portion of the taxes and the insurance, and obviously just do our share of stuff like yard work. Maybe occasionally helping out with some cows and fences.
We spent most of our savings to get there, and after a four and a half day U-Haul trip, they started moving us in.. to her grandmother's house. In a tiny spare room. For two (at the time) 26 year old adults, a dog, a cat, and a snake. We had to get a storage unit for the vast majority of our stuff, since we'd had nearly ten years of building a life together in the back of that truck.
That spare trailer stayed empty for the whole year and a half of us being there, by the way.
All the responsibilities were then handed off to us. We were expected to cook the meals for everyone, clean the house, do all the ranch work, fix anything that broke, etc.. Her father and grandmother just sat in bed, collected their retirement/inheritance/disability, and popped their pills.
Then on top of it, we were also expected to pay "half" of the bills, so we had to find employment on top of all the other full-time responsibilities.
We weren't allowed to see the bills, they would just tell us what we owed, but I'll tell you right now that I'd never in twelve years of being out on my own now, in comparably sized homes, paid $800 for a month of electricity. But allegedly the "half" we were expected to pay was $400.
My grandfather passed away, and I soft inherited my grandparents' property. My grandfather and I never had a good relationship, so it was a huge surprise. But with what little we'd managed to save up in that time, it got us off her family's ranch, and it also got us out of the vicious poverty inducing rent cycle, so it seemed like we'd finally gotten a massive break.
Then the housing problems set in.
I've replaced about half of the plumbing myself, because new stuff just kept breaking down all the time.
I wasn't confident doing a new gas water heater myself, so we had to get work to save up for a new one. Until that indeterminate future date, we had to boil water on the stove and shower with a pitcher out of a cooler. We took it in humor as best as we could.
Then our vehicles started breaking down, and became unreliable enough we couldn't leave the small town we're living in. Our savings at that point weren't nearly enough to get new vehicles, or even to get the level of work required done in a shop, and I didn't have the means to do that level of work.
She's been in healthcare (a very desperate field) for her whole working life, and is a fantastic worker, so she found work right away, four minutes from our house.
I sat on Google refreshing the job listing probably forty times per day, looking for anything even marginally close enough that the car could make it to, and I could plausibly continue to find a way to work even if it suddenly couldn't. I've done remote work before and would've been happy to go that route again.. except the best we get here is 7mbps internet, and I couldn't find a single fucking place that would accept that.
We're an equal home. Bills, large purchases that benefit both of us, food, housework, everything except stuff like the vehicle/house maintenance which she wasn't comfortable doing (though even that she was interested in learning). This was killing me to feel like I was leaching off of her, and I know it was really stressing her out being the only source of income.
Then set in the job problems. Put simply, she'd wound up in a very toxic work environment. To make matters worse, one of the people there is almost like a 40 year younger version of her grandmother, whom we'd just escaped.
My S.O. started to lose her identity there, just trying to mask and mirror her way through the social dynamics, which were more like a cliquey high school than a workplace. She felt her job depended on it. Gossip, cruelty, passive aggression, all completely out of character for her, but she felt like she didn't have a choice but to participate in it.
The manager also didn't want to do her own job, and given my S.O.'s glowing experience, resume, and letter of recommendation from her previous job, started putting the job of managing people on her..
But without the title, authority, or pay of a manager. So naturally, nobody gave a shit what she had to say. It still all fell down onto her anyway, and she was treated like shit every time her attempts to lead didn't go as they should've.
But she felt she couldn't leave, because the way she (understandably) saw it, our survival depended on it.
I did finally find work as lower management in a small casino in town, but she never lost that survival mode mindset, and had no interest in quitting despite all the stress it was putting on her.
How we landed here, per the title. This is where my heart breaks down completely. Mostly for her, but quite honestly, also for myself
About three weeks ago, she came home from work one day. She started her normal "today's bullshit at work" vent session, like we've always done for each other every day.. but this was different. First she seemed a bit disconnected, but it quickly devolved into extreme emotional reactions.
All of a sudden she starts talking about how everyone's behavior is changing around her. Suddenly the girls at work were chipper and kind. Everyone was doing their job correctly. She became convinced there was some kind of investigation for a hostile work environment or something happening, and that was causing the change.
It didn't seem totally out of the realm of possibility, especially because they'd just finished berating a transgender coworker out of there. And my S.O. has always been pretty sound of mind (albeit occasionally a little prone to unlikely fantasies of optimism, but I personally love that about her despite what it had just resulted in with her family). I agreed that it did sound like a possibility.
Pretty quick, she started getting squinty-eyed, told me my behavior has been changing too, and started asking me what I knew about the investigation. Caught me completely off guard, and I guess she saw that in my body language, but misread it as me trying to hide something.
She asked me what I was hiding, and at this point I was just massively confused how this went from a normal vent session about work, like we've had for ten years, to an interrogation.
Before I could answer, suddenly she jumps to angrily asking if I'm cheating on her, a look of almost intense hatred in her widened eyes.
Every question just confusing me more in terms of where she's getting any of this from. We have great communication, loyalty, honesty, trust, the whole package. I had no idea what was happening.
She ran to the bedroom and started packing to leave, and I was begging her to slow down and stop so I could catch up on what the fuck was happening. She told me I was in on the investigation but wouldn't tell her anything, and I was cheating on her with one of her coworkers (who has a loose link to my boss at the casino.. small town shit), and that's all she needed to know.
It finally clicked for me that this was some kind of stress breakdown, and I suggested as much. She finally slowed down and thought about it. Suddenly she's calling her sister, who lives in a completely different state a thousand plus miles away, surrounded by ocean. "Do you know anything about an investigation? Have any of the girls from my work contacted you?"
Her sister was also caught off guard, but honestly responded much better than I did, and I'll always feel like my uncoordinated response did damage here. Maybe because they share a lot of the same traumatic experiences, and the diagnosis, so she understood what was happening much more quickly? I'm not sure.
My S.O. backed down, had a good long cry while we cuddled, and it seemed like that was it. She understood that it was some kind of mental snap, and her grip on reality had basically fully returned. She said she didn't think she could go back to work there, and I WHOLEHEARTEDLY agreed after what I'd just witnessed. WHOLE. FUCKING. HEARTEDLY. Scared the shit out of me, but after hours of it, I was just glad it was over.
The next day, "I just wish someone would be honest with me. There is FACTUALLY an investigation happening, you all know something about it, and I know you're cheating on me. I need to just get away from everyone." Cue an hours long conversation trying to talk her down again, but this time on my own, because she'd decided her sister "wasn't in the loop enough to see what was going on anyway."
It went on like this for about three weeks. Off and on. All day. All night. Moment of clarity, back down the rabbit hole 30 minutes later. Moment of clarity, back down the rabbit hole.
She started making all these "seeing god in the stars" types of connections. Suddenly everyone on Facebook knew something she didn't now too, evidenced by how these posts they're sharing relate back to it. My family was also allegedly talking about her mental breakdown on Facebook, which meant that I'd told them everything about it and taken away her choice to control that information.
Neither of us were sleeping, eating, drinking, basically neglecting all forms of self care to sit there and hash, rehash, and rehash this out again. I'd guess I was averaging 5 hours of sleep per week, right alongside her, while still having to go to work and pretend everything was fine.
I tried to suggest returning to therapy god knows how many times, or even something in-patient since this was SO much worse than her last episode years back, but initially she was convinced this was me trying to manipulate her. Gaslight her. Convince her she's crazy.
I tried to get her to just think it through, like what evidence does she actually have for any of it beyond her gut feeling? The evidence doesn't exist because we're all smart enough to get rid of it and keep it from her. She just kept repeating that she trusts her body, and that's all she needed.
During one of her moments of clarity, she finally booked a therapy appointment.. but unfortunately not through her old therapist, who had been fantastic with her. She no longer lives here. Instead, she went through that BetterHelp app.
Her first appointment, she starts going into the stuff she needs to get working through, and in response she gets, "Holy smokes!" Yeah. That's it. Holy smokes. To be clear here, this is evidently not a platform for people in crisis, this is a platform for people whose dad yelled at them that one time and it makes them sad to think about, because these people are clearly not equipped for anything more serious than that. What kind of fucking psychology professional responds like that?
Anyway, the therapist also went on to say about the job situation, "I would've quit too." Now, this seems innocent enough when you're dealing with someone who's with it, but my S.O.'s currently fractured mind took that as validation for everything, not just the general toxicity of the work environment like the therapist was speaking to. Again, a psychology professional should've known better. And it was back on full force for a while.
A massive divergence happened a few days after this. I'm not even sure how or why. We had our usual rehashing session, and suddenly.. she just accepted it. She accepted that she's in perpetual fight or flight mode right now, and her mind is looking for any explanation to grasp at, any possible danger imaginable. She just had to trust us, the people who've loved and supported her all along and have no reason to betray her, and keep with the therapy.
For three or four days, she was totally with it. I mean, almost fully back to normal. All apologies for what she put us through, all forgiveness and "just happy to have you back" from us. Then on the final night, she sees that my step mother is Facebook friends with one of her coworkers. And we're back on.
Fast forward to the past few days, and she's become very despondent about the way she's feeling. She's fairly consistently aware that something is happening to her internally, rather than externally with everyone else, basically just seeking regular reassurances that we're being as honest as possible about everything. But her fight or flight just.. Will. Not. Disengage.
We had a conversation about trying another therapist, and she agreed, but she still didn't feel she needed in-patient care. She booked an in person session with one who specializes in behavioral health and trauma.
Then she starts experiencing distortions in her perception. Shadows when she closes her eyes. Rooms appearing smaller than they should. The voice track on TV shows not appearing to line up with actors' lip movements. Just little distortions, but they scared the absolute living shit out of her.
That fear led to some horrific dissociation, where it's like she's losing context on everything. She doesn't know what's happening and feels like nothing is real anymore. Nothing makes sense.
She was still stuck on there being an investigation, but it was evolving. It wasn't her old job being investigated anymore, it was her father for child abuse from when she was young. Then it was us for neglecting our pets (because we don't take our snake out very often and occasionally forget a regular nail trimming for the dog, but they're otherwise very well cared for). Then it was her father again, but for elder abuse, because her grandmother (who insists on managing her own medications) accidentally overdosed one day.
She became even more despondent, frequently breaking out into panic attacks and crying fits, which I just continued to try and help her through. Ice packs, reassurances that she was safe, there was no threat, etc. Truth be told, I was terrified too.
Finally, two days before her appointment, she had a massive panic attack about it being Memorial Day weekend. She couldn't explain why, just that it didn't make sense. She finally says she thinks she needs a hospital, which she's been completely opposed to until this point.
I rushed her to the emergency room, and that was a mess because it was the middle of the night so they couldn't find a bed anywhere in a more appropriate facility that late. They didn't really have any mental health resources themselves, so all they could do was give her some medications to calm her nerves and help her sleep through the night until they could find a bed.
The hospital.. was not good for her either. After a while, she just kept begging me to take her home. She just wanted to sleep together in our own bed, but they'd decided that between the bouts of confusion, paranoia, and admitting that she has had thoughts of suicide in the past, she was a danger to herself and couldn't leave.
They took her phone, leaving her in a blank room, and thanks to her work and the fact the most recent retraumatizing came from a healthcare environment, constantly triggered by the sounds of call lights and such in the emergency room outside.
All I could do was hold her, and keep reminding her that she's safe, and that everyone there just wants to help, but they're just limited in the ways they can until they find a bed somewhere. She just kept repeating that she wasn't actually getting any treatment, and to be fair she basically wasn't, but I just had to keep asking her to hold out a little longer, because they were trying to find her a facility that had the ability to.
They did finally, this morning, but it was about 130 miles away. They let me take her there myself though, which was a huge plus to know we'd get that last bit of time together.
On the way, however, she starts telling me how horrible of a person she is. At one point, she asks if I'm taking her to prison. I asked her what she could possibly go to prison for, and she just says incredibly minor things from the past like downloading a movie, (very rarely) doing this or that drug, etc.
I just kept reassuring her that I'm taking her to a crisis center where they'll be able to help her figure out where this is coming from, and that in no way is she in trouble legally. Everyone involved in this just wants to help her.
It's at this point I realize.. they took her phone. All these little connections she was making via Facebook and such, suddenly unavailable. She'd also decided once and for all that I wasn't the problem. So now all she had left was herself. She was being held at the hospital against her will. The "investigation" was no longer into her work, it was into her, because that's all that was left.
She tells me she's going to go away (to prison) for a long time, but to just know how much she loves me. She wishes we could've just had a simple life together, but she ruined that for us. She was just so sorry. I just kept reassuring her that nothing was ruined, and we can and will still work towards that life together, she just needs help that's beyond what I can provide so we can get back to that.
Then finally, after a long goodbye.. I dropped her off.
The facility is very small (literally a regular house in a regular neighborhood, so only a few patients getting a lot of 1x1 care), and very soft spoken and compassionate staff. Practically everything is optional right down to the daily therapy, which made me really happy to hear given it seems like that should ease her mind on the prison train of thought. She's even allowed to leave for good whenever she wants, with the one caveat being that I or a family member would need to pick her up.
It doesn't have visiting hours though, and I couldn't even go in with her.. that kills me. They don't have HIPAA forms, so just walking through the door is a violation. But she gets to keep her phone at all times with the exception of bedtime, just to make sure she gets some sleep. She told me a bit ago that she's nervous coming into this new environment, but everyone there has been nothing but incredibly welcoming and empathetic towards her.
Not to make this situation about me, because it's so far from it, but my heart is just so broken.
I've never felt anything so horrible. Not even remotely close. I feel like I, myself, need therapy after this.
I'm still so confused. Did I just miss the cracks of this coming on? Or was it really that sudden? I swear I would've noticed her behavior change.
I'm so angry with her toxic fucking coworkers, who it seems like ultimately sent her into this downward spiral. I'm so angry with her family for being.. well, who they are.
I'm so angry with myself for not trying harder to get her to leave that job sooner, just because I didn't want to press the issue since she's her own person and capable of making her own decisions. But I saw the stress it was putting on her. I should've done more.
I'm so scared of what comes next. Will she ever normalize out and heal? If so, when? Days? Weeks? Months? How is this experience going to change her? Admittedly, given we live in the US, how in the fuck are we going to afford this (though as long as she's getting the help she needs, that's far from my primary concern, but still something I have to figure out)?
It feels like my whole world came crashing down around me. She is my person. She's one of the biggest reasons I get out of bed in the morning. My favorite parts of the day are crawling into bed together and waking up to each other, like we've been doing for ten fucking years.
Her absence in our home is utterly suffocating, knowing the hell she's going through while there's practically nothing I can do for her except be there for her when she wants to text or talk on the phone.
I doubt anyone is going to read this whole book I've written here, but just being able to type it all out sequentially like this has been a bit cathartic. But I still just have no idea how to feel. What to do. I'm so lost.

Read Chapter 25 Here: https://www.reddit.com/saw/comments/13kih9q/legacy_from_the_book_of_saw_chapter_25_the_final/
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*** CHAPTER 26 **\*
Traveling to the warehouse, Logan felt relieved knowing Melissa was in good hands, but his momentary comfort was quickly replaced with apprehension when he arrived at Hoffman’s lair. Checking his surroundings, Logan was unfamiliar with this place, despite living here for over a decade. Stopping the car, he tilted the visor down and looked at the photo of his wife.
Through the security camera positioned outside, Hoffman watched Logan enter the parking lot and smiled. He grabbed the bottle of chloroform that sat next to the aqua green box and a cloth from the table, then switched on the furnace. Walking towards the entrance, he turned off all the lights except the one shining on Elanor, who sat unconscious beneath the aluminum dispenser.
Walking towards the entrance, Logan removed a tactical knife from his pocket and held it surreptitiously. Finding the door unlocked, he breached the doorway and stepped into the building, his chest full of anxiety. Logan shuffled through the inoperable machines, boxes, and various tools until he found Elanor under the strobe light. On the floor, he noticed the chrome pool of aluminum that had dried and discovered the dispenser above her. Quickly pulling the chair out of reach, he removed the gag from her mouth just as the liquid started to pour.
Slipping out of the darkness, Hoffman watched as Logan attempted to cut through the ropes that bound Elanor, and while he was distracted, Hoffman slammed the grip of his gun into the back of Logan’s head with traumatic force. Falling to the floor, rattled and disoriented, Hoffman used this moment to render him unconscious with a considerable dose of chloroform.
***
Seth’s body is brought to the triage center, where the on-call doctors get to work. They extract the bullet from his neck and clean the wound. Then, fill several vials with his coagulating blood and immediately begin several tests. It doesn’t take long for them to find something unusual in his blood. The pathologist examines the results and calls the precinct.
Waiting to hear from Agent Kullen, Lincoln left a message for Autumn and contacted the patrol unit, which was watching over her. They spoke briefly and assured him she would be brought to the station as soon as possible.
With her safety guaranteed, he reached out to the crew sent to Gavin Beck’s residence. They informed him that an officer was found in the garage with his arms, legs, and mouth wrapped in duct tape, but he was still alive, suffering from a major contusion on his head. He was currently being transported to the hospital for evaluation.
Fixing his posture, Lincoln loosened the cilice, providing a moment of comfort, and sank into his chair. Through the window, he caught another glimpse of the remaining survivors. Obstructing his view and thoughts, Marlow entered his office.
“Linc,” he says, “I’ve been in touch with Agent Webb. She’s in recovery and would like updates on the case. Additionally, I’ve been in contact with Dr. Steward’s wife and son. They’re both okay. Presumably an empty threat. The same for Renee’s family.”
Lincoln squints his eyes, contemplating, and suggests, “They didn’t fit the code.”
Marlow shrugs and is about to speak when a call comes through, “Detective,” the pathologist says, “Please come to the triage center at once. There’s something you should see.”
Taking his jacket from the chair, they leave the room hastily and head next door, cutting a path through the other corpses, beelining for Seth’s cadaver. The site of the body hits Lincoln in the gut. They shared a long history, and this wasn’t how he imagined their friendship would end. Saddened by the loss, Lincoln backed away and placed his hands in his pockets.
Inside, he found the last canister of Nitrous Oxide, which he had forgotten about. Already inserted into the cracker, it was taunting him. With the pain of losing another friend, Lincoln’s urge to use was returning, and he felt he would never escape its grasp. Checking for an exit, Lincoln was about to give in to his compulsion when he caught sight of the pathologist using a centrifuge.
Detailing her findings into a computer, she greets Lincoln, “Thank you for coming.”
“What did you find?”
Moving around the device, she grabs a portfolio and takes a blood-filled vial from the rack. She hands the vial to Lincoln and says, “When we ran the first test, I found Seth’s blood was contaminated with some sort of bacteria.”
Holding up the vial and looking closely, “Agent Kullen said he was sick….” Lincoln explains.
Her expression is one of doubt, “I checked that too, but these cells reacted differently than a common cold. It’s microbial.”
Turning a page in the portfolio, she removes another vial from the rack that is filled with green fluid.
“Do you recognize this?” She asks.
Swapping vials, Lincoln shakes the cylinder and watches the fluid splash against the walls.
The pathologist elaborates, “It was confiscated from Dr. Gordon’s apartment.”
“So?”
“Well, Detective, my theory is that poison not dissimilar to this was injected into Seth’s body. I’m certain we will find an entry point with a little more time.”
Handing the vial back to the pathologist, Lincoln displays concern.
He says, “Have Logan assist you with the autopsy. Find the entry point and get back to me.”
Confusion drapes the pathologist, “Logan isn’t here, Detective. I thought you knew that.”
“Fine, get Elanor on it immediately.”
“I’m sorry, Lincoln, but she’s not here either.”
Marlow looks worried, and Lincoln says, “What are you talking about?”
“The on-call Doctors are here because Logan and Elanor never came in. I assumed they requested a break….”
Lincoln pushes past the physician, and Marlow tries to keep up. “Get a unit to Logan and Elanor’s addresses.” He says, “If you can’t get in touch with anyone, I want an APB out within the hour.”
“Chief Savino?”
“My orders, just do it.”
They enter the precinct, and Lincoln breaks off from Marlow, heading to his office while Marlow requests the attention of the other officers. Perched in the seats, eyes fixed, they await instructions. He explains, “Two of our colleagues are missing, Logan Nelson and Elanor Bonneville. Logan was last seen leaving the precinct between 7 pm and 8 pm last night. We must track them down as soon as possible.”
Listening to Marlow in the distance, Lincoln paces his office, trying to call Autumn. He leaves another message and fidgets with the Nitrous Oxide in his pocket. Needing a distraction, he contacts Agent Kullen.
**\*
Outside the Convention Center, Agent Kullen acquired an identical parking slip to the one they procured from Seth. He stood beside his vehicle, surveying the surroundings, taking mental notes of the area, including the security cameras and the construction site for the museum across the street then headed inside.
At the front desk, he finds two staff members and security personnel. Flashing his badge, he requests to see the surveillance footage taken from the last forty-eight hours. They informed him that a power outage corrupted the data, and the footage was essentially erased. Incensed by the revelation, Kullen shows them a picture of Seth Steward and asks if they’ve seen him on the property. The security guard holds the photo close to his face and recognizes the man. He saw him the night before, smoking in the parking lot, but he never entered the building.
Kullen’s stomach churned, and his hand twitched as he exited the convention center. Retrieving his medication from the car, Kullen consumed two pills and evaluated his surroundings once more. Walking towards the street, he looked up and down the road diligently.
Near the shoulder, across the street, he saw something glistening off the sun. About to head over, a call rang through his cell, “Kullen,” he said, still curious about the object.
“It’s me.”
Hearing the Detective's unsettled tone, Agent Kullen asks, “Lincoln, what’s going on?”
“Elanor and Logan are missing. Marlow is pursuing leads. Where are you?”
Crossing the street, Kullen discovers the reflective object to be a broken padlock. He carries the item towards the gate and says, “I’m near the Convention Center.”
He stops at the entrance and discovers that a new padlock has replaced the broken one. Suspicious, he looks to the Convention Center and then back to the gate.
Overwhelmed by his sudden emotions, Lincoln pushes through a fog of anxiety and asks, “Have you found anything?”
Kullen tilts the new lock in his direction and discovers a keyhole. “Send a team to the museum, now.”
Quickly returning to his vehicle, Kullen starts the ignition and drives towards the parking lot's exit. He waits anxiously for the road to clear before pulling out onto the street. When he reaches the gate, he makes a sharp turn and slams his foot into the accelerator. Crashing through the barrier, he speeds toward the construction site.
Pedestrians outside the Community Center observe the unexpected breach and appear excited and perplexed, with at least one individual phoning 9-1-1.
*** CHAPTER 27 **\*
Sitting at his workstation, watching the news, Hoffman can hear Elanor’s muffled cries for help. In front of her, she could see the limp body of Logan, handcuffed to a metal fixture that Hoffman bolted to the floor below the aluminum faucet. Pleading for him to wake up, she quivered in fear.
Unaffected, Hoffman increased the volume of the television. Showing footage of the National History Museum from a helicopter, it was reported that a new game had been discovered. In the video, Hoffman saw several cop cars and news vans positioned outside the building. They revealed that triggers and tripwires had been placed throughout the museum, preventing safe entry.
Photos of the victims flash on the screen, and Hoffman sees Renee Walsh, a test subject of John Kramer, who he had captured over a decade ago. For her game, John requested an eye for an eye, forcing her to remove the organ with a sharpened spoon. Unbeknownst to Jigsaw, Dr. Gordon provided a numbing agent for Renee that would aid her in the endeavor.
Hoffman’s eyes glazed over, and the memories of previous games rushed to his mind. Staring through the television, he heard a voice.
Hovering over his shoulder was the rotting corpse of Amanda Young, who said, “Hello, Mark….”
“You’re dead,” he replied calmly.
Watching the news, Amanda folded her pale arms and said, “I know it’s hard to concentrate.”
Having been haunted by these hallucinations since he escaped the bathroom, Hoffman felt exhausted and tortured, “Why?” He said, his voice drained of emotion. “Why are you still here?”
Amanda stared out the window while Hoffman watched the blood ooze from her neck, and she said, “By creating a legacy, by living a life worth remembering, you become immortal.”
“When this is over, you’ll be gone….”
Smiling, Amanda responds defiantly, “Somehow, I doubt that.”
Photos of John Kramer are displayed on the television, followed by images of Dr. Gordon.
Seeing the pictures, Hoffman remembered sending letters to various news stations, hospitals, and local law enforcement, implicating Lawrence Gordon as an accomplice. For many years, he had planned his revenge on the Doctor, which started by exposing his true identity. However, with Gordon’s upstanding reputation, the implications were deemed a slanderous rumor, and nothing ever came of it.
Now with Gordon gone, only one obstacle remained; there was only one accomplice left; Logan Nelson.
*** CHAPTER 28 **\*
The sun is chased out of the sky by a flurry of dark clouds, creating a reddish-black horizon. An aft beautiful sight, if not for the crowd that has formed outside the precinct. Families of the deceased Jigsaw victims have led a throng of supporters to the parking lot, where they demand an end to Jigsaw’s legacy and the police department that has allowed this to go on for so long.
Among the swarm of bodies are the ex-husband and children of Sarah Harper.
Inside, Chief Savino preps a SWAT team on the situation at the museum, reminding them to be wary of traps, and displays a picture of Hoffman on the television for each of them to memorize. He insists that no one enter the museum until all the traps have been disarmed.
After the speech, Lincoln is informed that Autumn has arrived at her house and is collecting her belongings. The officer estimates that they will reach the precinct within the hour. With one problem solved, Lincoln allows himself a moment of comfort. When he is about to leave, Marlow approaches with more good news.
“We just spoke to Cameron, Logan’s Mother-in-Law,” He says, “She has Melissa, they’re fine, and Logan left around 7 am this morning.”
“Did she say where he was going?”
“He said he was going to work but to contact you if there’s trouble. Chances are he’s inside the museum with the others.”
Lincoln considers the possibilities and says, “Let’s retrace his steps. He took his vehicle, right? I don’t care how long it takes, pull CCTV, check gas stations in the vicinity, schools, everything. If we can triangulate his phone, do it. Find him."
“I will, sir,” Marlow says, without moving, "What about him?"
Lincoln glances at Daniel inside the Infirmary, “He doesn't leave my sight," he says.
“Sir?"
“What other options do we have? I'm not losing anyone else."
Forgoing his apprehension, Marlow said, “It’s your call, Lincoln.”
Within twenty minutes, Lincoln arrives at the museum with a SWAT team. Staring at the building, he feels a sudden surge of anxiety, dread, and a strange sense of relief, knowing this will all be over soon.
“Are you okay?” a voice asks.
His eyes move to the rearview mirror, and Lincoln can see Daniel Matthews in the back seat. Still awaiting a response from Autumn, Lincoln checks his cellphone and re-reads his message to Lynn.
“I'm ready for this to be over,” he said, tightening the cilice around his waist.
Looking through the window at the commotion outside the museum, Daniel responds, “This isn't your fault, Detective.”
Reminded of his conversation with Seth Steward, Lincoln ignores the words, "Let's go."
Both men exit the vehicle, and Marlow joins them.
"Kullen is sending in a bomb squad," Marlow said, "We've set up an observation terminal towards the south entrance. I'll move the witness there."
As the men separate, Daniel, notices the news crews positioned themselves just outside the parking lot. He stares at them approvingly.
Lincoln waded through his grief and reached Agent Marlow, who was relaying a message via radio.
“Get it done,” Kullen said.
Standing with the Agent, Lincoln asks for a breakdown of the situation.
“Come with me.”
Lincoln follows Kullen towards a police car, and the Agent removes the museum floor plans from his pocket. He lays the map on the car's hood and specifies the trap locations.
“The entrances are blocked off,” he said, “There’s no way through. Now, I’ve got a team working to deactivate the traps, but it’s going to take some time.”
“Have you had any communication with the survivors?”
Drawing a line on the map with his finger, Kullen says, “Not yet, but I’ve spoken with the construction crew, and they’re building an expansion right over here.”
***
TO BE CONTINUED

I have lost 2 of the 3 oranda goldfish I purchased online a month ago. I have no idea what caused them to pass. I reached out to the seller and even after treatment we couldn’t pin down what they were sick with. They were moved to hospital tanks for treatment.
I am needing to sanitize the gravel vacuums, sponge filters, nets, heaters, buckets, thermometers, and tanks. How do I ensure they are completely serialized? I’ve been thinking about using bleach or use reef salt and mix it until the salinity is really high. I’m not sure which is best or if there’s a product that I should get that works better.
Also, how do I go about making sure their 55 gallon planted tank is safe for new fish? I have a uv sterilizer in the canister but I’m terrified that the new goldfish I have in quarantine currently are going to catch what ever the sick goldfish had… I really don’t want to lose any more since it was hard enough losing the 2 I have already lost.

Hello! Hoping to get some professional advise on my redneck-mobile-wood-fired hot tub time machine project. Please let me know if I am going to blow myself up! Ok here goes...
Heating water with 4x 50' lengths of 1/2" copper pipe wrapped around the outside of the barrel and insulated with ceramic insulation. Using a PVC one way valve on the cold end and a brass one way valve on the hot end.
The concept is using a small Marine battery powered pump (1/10hp did the trick) during active heating from 0 - 40 Celsius but then allowing the heat syphon to take over for quiet, passive circulation given the heater is much lower than the mass of water. It does, infact circulate during testing last fall and I got it up to temperature. I am aware that if the water boils it will expand explosively and so I have a hot water tank's safety release valve (150PSI and/or >100C to trigger). See photos.
200ft of Type L 1/2" copper pipe = 2.42 Gallons of water. Worst case scenario - If all that water turns into steam at once will it overwhelm the pressure release valve pictured on the bottom Right of the back of the heater? Where is my weak point/ what would explode? (Cold end PVC would be my guess) Any other safety measures you could advise?
Questions and comments welcome, I am 2 years into this and friends are tired of hearing about it! ^^
I did observe a banging phenomenon at the tub where the water connects to the 2" hose (pictured) for the jets when I had the pump off for a long period. I suspect this was small amounts of water turning to steam and causing a shock wave/ water hammer. I intend to add a water hammer arrestor on the back end of the heater to prevent damage to the fiberglass tub/ jets.
Additional information: A gas powered water transfer pump will be used with a milk crate rigged to be a crude filter. This tub will be usable anywhere near a body of water where you also have firewood. The 1/10HP pump has a bypass to push through a standard hot tub filter. If chlorine/ bromine is used correctly the water may be drained safely onto grass without damaging local vegetation. Improved tub insulation and a potential pump upgrade are planned to improve heating efficiency. Estimated output is ~ 150K BTU/hr but remains to be proven. I intend to try this out ice fishing!
Thoughts?

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***
Caly and Olm followed the dust storm out of the city and down into the scrublands, passing the scattered parade of repulsor bikes and homesteader trucks and old sandcutter boats that were so laden with luggage they didn’t hover, so much as drag along the sand. Eventually, the scrublands gave way to even scrubbier lands, and it was just Caly and Olm alone. The hills no longer grew with an abundance of weeds, only patches of sharp-looking grass, and twists and clumps of gnarled cacti. Pipes of stiff plants cast shadows down the ridges of the hills, looking every bit like people standing along the red cliffs, raising their hands to beg for a ride.
Coordinates ticked away on the corner of her visor, routing their path to the orphanage. The tails of the storm showered the hills with dust, dust, and more dust. But when it came to the cracked flats, its fury dried up, and it spread into a tan haze across all that empty land. You couldn’t ask for better terrain. Caly leaned forward in the stirrups and Olm squeezed tighter around her waist. She throttled on, and the bike reared and screamed as it plunged into the haze, leaving a sandy vortex in their wake.
They thundered across the desert. Her legs went numb, and even then, she kept going.
A shift, on the horizon was the only warning. A gap rose up out of nowhere, a massive canyon deeper than it was wide. She yanked on the brakes, and shoved the repulsor hard against the sand as she tried to halt the bike’s forward movement. Not soon enough. Caly cursed and threw the bike into a turn until they sped along the edge of the cliff.
“Sorry,” she growled. She hadn’t seen the canyon until they were practically staring down into it.
Olm didn’t say anything about their near miss, no criticism, no disapproving intake of breath. She was quietly grateful for that.
Both of them stayed seated in silence for a long moment, taking in the view. Entire cities could’ve fit down there, and no one would know. Plants grew in the cracks and shelves down the cliff faces, and one enterprising old tree had found enough dirt to make a home on a rocky outcropping jutting halfway across the canyon. Far below, the glint of brown water suggested that a creek might be down there, hidden in shadow and dry, tangled brush.
Olm grunted. Caly turned her head to follow his gaze, down the other side of the canyon. At first, she thought she was looking at some huge shadow cutting across the canyon. Her helmet zoomed in on a structure, black and metallic, that jutted from one end of the gap to the other. Spikes large enough to spear a spacecraft jutted up from its twisting form. The structure, which looked more like the intertwined roots of some moon-sized tree, growing through the stone.
“What is that?”
“Only the Dead Ones know,” Olm said.
Like the Spirines of the Independent Cities, the root bridge was made of that black, glittering substance favored by the Dys. Not quite metal. Maybe, once, it dammed the river, but the river had cut beneath it, and kept on its winding trail, so the Root looked more like an exposed, planet-sized rib.
“Let’s head South,” Olm said. “We’ll find another crossing.”
“That thing looks sturdy enough.”
“It’s Dyss.”
“So? We’re just passing over it. Bike won’t even touch the thing.”
Olm rumbled his discomfort.
“You think the human crossed somewhere else?” Caly cocked her head, a challenge.
Olm grunted, as if to say “Fine.”
The Bridge grew at an angle. While the opposing side rose smoothly to the top of the cliff, their side began with a bit of a drop. “Hang on,” she said, as she lined up the bike and revved the repulsors. They flew off the cliff, and she pulled up hard to keep the heavy nose level as they fell toward the Dyssian dam, or whatever it was. They crunched on impact. And then, her stomach dropped as the repulsor almost slid off the smooth, mottled-black structure. Then, it was smooth riding. They hovered a foot or two above the Bridge, but even so, Olm’s hands crushed her shoulders under his anxious grip. Normally, he hated when she pulled the throttle, so she was surprised when he leaned forward and spoke in a tense voice, “Faster.”
She had to resist ramping off the other side. With sand once more under their feet, Olm let go of her, leaned back in the saddle, and gave a loud sigh. She glanced in the mirror, and saw him squeezing his eyes shut, the cracks in his skins glowing a dull red.
“Need a rest?” she asked.
“I thought we were trying to catch up to him.”
“No sense going in unprepared. Be ready, or be ready to die, right?”
“I am always ready for death.” Olm sniffed. Looked back at the Bridge, its gnarled spines standing sentry over the canyon. “But let’s not camp here.”
They rode until the air was so chill, Caly couldn’t feel her fingers. Her visor’s heaters struggled to keep up without fogging up her helmet, so they dismounted and built a small camp in the shadow of a rocky berm. Olm set out his pocket fire, a small spherical device that gave off a warm, blue glow. They used the bike and their own bodies to shield the light from any far off watchers. The sunset lit up a torn tuft of cloud. It looked like the last, falling petal of a fiery rose.
As the sun waned, one of Nowhere’s moons seemed to gain strength. Caly spotted the Hyperlane not far off, a string of double lights spread across the sky like a constellation of twin arrows, side by side.
When the Hyperlane started to glow, Caly stood up.
She watched it, for a long moment. Gathering light, going from a pale fuzz to full blue and into white as all that pent-up energy flushed out. And then, it was just those two strings of light once more.
“More Auran Arais,” Caly said.
“Floaters? How can you tell?”
“Helmet caught their IDs. That’s the second batch of freighters this week. Headed out to the new belts, I’d guess.”
Olm looked up, though his hands stayed hovering over the pocket fire, said, “More and more these days. Wonder why?”
The Hyperlanes were not one way to cross the systems of the Synod—they were the only way. Without them, the Synod was nothing more than a series of isolated planets, separated by millions of light years. Once, Caly had asked her mother, “Why don’t we just build more?”
“We didn’t build them,” her mother said, disgusted that her own child would ask such an inane question. “We only discovered them. It was the Dyss who set all this in motion.”
The Synod’s ability to power the lanes was severely limited. Getting passage to the Synod’s core (where everyone wanted to be) was more expensive than going out. So the only people who came all this way, to New Nowhere—the last junction on the furthest frontier—were prospectors, fortune seekers, families in dire need, dreamers or fools (which were the same thing), the odd adventurer and thrill seeker, and, of course, the exiles. Like Olm. Like me.
Out here, there was only one hyperlane, and the Synod was not keen on wasting the reserves to keep it running. Even the Auran Arais—those patient masters of interstellar industry—only sent the odd mega-freighter to work the belts beyond. If the lane was lighting up again, twice in one week, something big was happening back home.
But what? And why now? The Couran Unity was still gathering their support in the Councils, both Mass and Crown. It would be decades before their plans went into motion.
She stared up at the hyperlane, as if she could demand answers from it. She stood, forgetting how cold and tired she was, until Olm tugged on her sleeve, and offered her a piece of dried biscuit and a clod of cheese so cold it was almost frozen. Caly flipped her visor open, and wolfed it down.
As they settled in for the night, she scanned the horizon one last time, searching for lifeforms. Her visor illuminated only the strange, urchin-like plants that grew in clusters along the shadowed parts of the desert. Feathery fronds stuck out of the spines and waved in the wind, catching airborne microbes, or whatever it was they did for food.
“Thank the stars for the Synod’s Finest,” Olm said, as he pulled out a couple of emergency packs and bedrolls from the top trunk of the enforcer’s bike. Caly took a bedroll, the metallic fabric crinkling as she laid it out. She curled as close to the pocket flame as she could without melting her bedroll, and willed herself to relax. She started to dim her visor to block out the light from the stars, when Olm muttered something from the bedroll next to hers.
“What?” Caly turned over.
“Can’t stop thinking about him,” Olm grumbled.
“The human?”
Olm rolled over and propped himself up on a huge elbow, “One second, he was there. The next—you saw it, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t see anything. There was too much dust.”
“Exactly. How fast did he get up to your tower?”
“Maybe the human’s got a double. Like Split Agasgar?”
“No,” Olm said. “It was only him.”
They both sat in silence.
She’d never seen him like this. There was something about Olm’s quiet contemplation that dampened her enthusiasm for the new plan. Tomorrow’s problem.
The chill bit into her suit and she sank deeper into her crinkly bedroll and shoved her hands under her arms. Her thoughts turned from the new plan to old plans gone awry. To friends, become enemies. And then, as always, to Caspian, and to the dream of a life, long left behind.
Olm woke her before the sun of dawn spilled its golden blood over the horizon. They saddled up, this time with Olm riding pilot, and Caly leaning back in the cushy passenger seat. When they crossed a rough mountain pass, they found themselves in an ocean of gray and green grass. In the foothills, some enormous mass of cacti crowded out the grass, and created impassable mounds covered in spikes and tall-sprouting stems that waved heavily with bright-colored fruit. Almost like the plants were tempting them to come closer. A herd of scave boars chewed thoughtfully on the outer edges of the cacti mounds, their tongues thicker than the plates of thorny cacti could penetrate. One of them watched Caly and Olm hovering through grass and thorn with bored interest, just watching and chewing.
The foothills descended into a valley, carved by a few slow-moving streams of brown water. Majestic cliffs lined the valley walls, steep and painted with hundreds of segments, each one a different shade of red. Caly found herself wondering how those pathetic little streams could carve something so beautiful. They rode into the narrow beneath the cliffs and, even with the sun high overhead, the light failed to reach them, failed to warm the chill of the shadows.
There was a silhouette at the end of the canyon, standing still with its head upturned and enrobed in sunlight. Caly pointed it out, and Olm slowed the bike to a humming crawl.
“Wait. It’s just rocks,” she said, “Thought it was someone waiting for us.”
But Olm kept the bike tuned low, moving carefully and as soundlessly as he could, the water barely rippling under the repulsor. Even when they passed the stack of rocks (or wind-carved stone, or whatever it was), he kept his form hunched low and his eyes cast up at the increasingly-cracked canyon walls.
“Olm?”
“Dyss,” he said.
“How do you know?”
“I smell it,” Olm sniffed meaningfully.
They turned the last bend of the canyon, and looked down upon a forest of black stone, sprouting from the red sand. No, not stone, Caly thought, as she gazed over the labyrinths of glittering spires and obsidian fangs jutting up from the sand. This is the work of the Dead Ones. Sweeping statues of that ancient, brushed metal stood watch like misshapen sentinels, twisting up from the stone. They marched along the ridge like the backplates of some enormous reptile. Black arches marched up the sides of the valley and when the wind blew through them, it made a sound like a mournful choir, ten thousand voices.
“They walked here, once.” Olm said, wrinkling his nose. His shoulders were so tense, they almost reached his ears. His eyes scanned the black towers and arches and jagged scales bursting from the earth, all that obsidian metal glittering in the rising sun.
“Should we turn back?” Though they were alone, Caly felt the need to whisper, as if something about this place would know they had come. The Bridge was one thing, but even she could feel that gentle, insidious tug in her chest. It was those singing voices in the wind.
“No. You were right the first time. Let fear guide your way, and you will never find your glory.”
Olm leaned over (making the bike tip slightly) and grabbed a fistful of red dirt. He threw it up, letting it shower on his head as muttered some hrutskuld prayer for safe passage, though not in those exact words. It was more like asking Death to turn a blind eye while they crossed, in exchange for a more gruesome end at a later date.
Meanwhile, the wind sang through the blades and arches. An itch grew between her shoulder blades.
“Coordinates say the orphanage is through this valley.” She said.
“What kind of orphanage would be in a place like this?”
“Well,” Caly said, raising her helmet’s volume to be heard over the choir of dead voices, “If the human made it through here, then we can too.”
Olm made a doubtful rumble in his throat. But he pushed the bike forward, and they began the long, winding trek through the maze.
They rambled through jagged teeth and curving towers, around bends of treacherous cliffs. Rainpaths crisscrossed the sands and smooth slabs of rock, tinted red with iron or white from limestone powder. Olm kept blinking, like he was trying to clear his vision, and at one point he asked Caly, “Did you say something?”
“No.”
“Thought I heard … never mind.”
“Let me drive,” Caly said. Olm didn’t argue. He slid back, and started massaging his temples, and muttered something about how it would be better if the dead remembered to stay dead.
The sooner they left this place, the better.
On one sheer cliff, someone had hammered stakes into the rock to use as handholds, but only one stake still remained. There was a cave where a tattered rucksack hidden in the shadows.
“Someone lived here,” she said.
“Must’ve been mad.”
“Or desperate.”
“Or both.”
When the ground became too treacherous, Olm had to lead the bike on foot, slowly hovering behind him as he pulled it with a rope tied around his waist. They had to pull it through a bend, scraping the metal on stone, when a sound up high made them both stop. Stones and pebbles slid down the cliff and skittered over their path, but Caly saw nothing above them.
She turned her scanners on full power, and left them running, even though it drained her suit. She could make up the charge later.
By midday, the Dead One’s ruins dwindled to knee-high shapes, so the sun struck the sharp rocks and the whole valley radiated with its heat, until even Olm was sweating. There wasn’t enough power for Caly’s fans, and her suit stuck to her every time she moved. She took off her gloves, and peeled back her sleeves, but kept her helmet in place.
They trudged up a steep slope with Olm dragging the bike, each footstep only gave a handful of centimeters, each breath leaving her lungs wanting more. At the top, they gasped and drank in the thin air.
Far below, there was a creek, muddy and brown and small enough in some places that Caly thought she might simply step over it. As it rolled down the valley, it collected dozens of other small streams and yet, it never seemed to grow any wider. But there were trees—actual trees—growing along the rocky bank. Some were sheltered in the cliffs, though even they drove their gnarled roots down to the creek. They looked like shriveled old men, bent by the dry centuries. But further up the creek, a copse of trees stood proud and tall above the rest—dark green steeples of the highland pines, fencing in the white-barked guardia trees with their broad leaves arranged like a wall of bright, yellow shields to shade their branches.
Caly’s helmet pinged. It took her a moment to see it, beneath the trees: a fort, with red walls so old, they crumbled seamlessly into the red sand. A single parapet lifted from the walls, shrouded by branches and yellow leaves.
“You ever see an orphanage like that?” she asked.
“Hrutskald don’t have orphanages,” he said, “Only barracks.”
“Oh, right,” Caly said, as if she had known that.
In a way, she supposed courans were the same. If you didn’t have a House, you didn’t have anything. You got sent wherever the ruling Houses sent you, and the rest of your life was written.
She chewed her lip, trying to plan their next move. “If I were a bandit, I’d hole up in there.”
“They do love their trees. Especially ones you can hang people from.”
The fort was quiet and still. Only the trees swayed in the breeze. She could shoot from a distance all day, but this—this was unknown. Caly swallowed, her throat suddenly thick.
A true Cavalier must face far worse than this.
“Think he’s in there?” Olm asked.
Caly put every ounce of her bravado into her reply, “Only one way to find out.”
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It all started Friday, when we (myself and my roommate James) went fishing at one of the local lakes. Or, at least we tried to go fishing. It's Spring but the lake we drove to was still frozen. Ice fishing wasn’t something we’d ever done, but we figured it couldn't be too difficult. When we arrived I tentatively tested the ice and it seemed solid, so we ventured further out. The ice cracked underfoot in a few places, but neither of us were very concerned. Once we got to a nice spot in the middle I sat down on one of the buckets we’d brought and started fitting our poles with hooks. While I was doing that, James set about trying to make a hole in the ice. He started by stomping on it with his foot to no effect. Then, he grabbed his bucket and began hammering away at it.
“Need some help over there?” I said in a somewhat teasing tone.
“No I’ve got it, I just need a better spot, this one’s much too hard.” he said, jumping on the spot as proof.
“Whoa don’t do that! If the ice breaks you’ll fall in and I’d have to save you, then as payment you’d have to treat me to a beer at Shelby’s.”
“Man you know I don’t like that place, it's so dingy. But as I said, the ice won’t break. I’m going to look for another spot.”
“Alright, well I’m done with the poles. Let me know if you need any help then.”
“Awesome, you can see the fish swimming under the ice over here. This is the spot, I know it!”
“Great! I’ll move our gear over.”
Suddenly, I heard a loud crack and a small splash. I looked over and saw James had his foot stuck in the ice.
“Hey you alright? Don’t move, let me come pull you out.” I said, dropping our poles and walking over.
“No I don’t need any help, I just need to pull my leg out. This water is cold as hell!”
“Yeah I bet. I’m coming over anyway just in case.”
“Nah I got it, see?” he said, before aggressively trying to pull his foot out of the hole. Almost immediately he lost his balance, and fell forward slamming into the dark patch of ice. I heard the surface give way and saw him fall into the water. I ran over to the hole and tried to see him, but the water was too muddy. Frantically, I plunged my arms into the water and grabbed randomly hoping to find a purchase on James. My arms started burning, and after a few minutes I had to pull them out. I started panicking and didn’t know if I should jump in after him. I decided I would call 911 first, even though I knew there’s nothing they could do, and then would jump in after him. But just as I dialed the number I saw a hand come out of the water. I dropped my phone and grabbed it, heaving a muddy body onto the ice and pulling it towards more solid ground. It was James, he was covered in mud and some grass, but other than that seemed perfectly fine. He wasn’t even shivering, nor did he seem particularly stressed. Once I’d helped him to his feet he stood and turned towards the hole in the ice, looking at it pensively.
“Are you alright James?” I asked. He didn’t respond, so I grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the hole towards the shore. I’d suddenly remembered that not shivering was a symptom of severe hypothermia, something that would only get worse in those wet clothes of his. I almost had to drag him away, but he offered no resistance, just kept looking behind him at the hole. When we reached the car I turned the heater to maximum, and undressed James. I gave him my jacket and wrapped him in a blanket I had in the back.
“James? Can you hear me? I’m taking you to a clinic now, there’s one only 15 minutes away.” I started the GPS and pulled out of the small recreation area, but before I could get onto the road James grabbed me and started screaming.
“TAKE ME BACK TAKE ME BACK TAKE ME BACK TAKE ME BACK”
I jumped and hit my head on the roof of the car.
“Dammit James you scared the crap out of me, are you all right?”
He let go of me, and whispered “Take me back.”
“No, we’re going to a clinic. You're clearly hypothermic, you're not even shivering but you’re ice cold. End of discussion.” I said, and then continued onto the road towards the clinic. I focused on the road, but I could feel his eyes on me.
“We’ll come back another day.” I said. I quickly glanced to my left, and was startled to see he was looking directly into my eyes.
“Alright,” he whispered, before slowly looking away and out the window.
We spent the rest of the drive in silence, until we reached the hospital. The doctor said he didn’t have hypothermia, but gave him some dry clothes and recommended standing by the heater until he warmed up. James nodded, but headed straight for the car. I quickly said thanks to the doctor, and followed James. It would take an hour to get to our apartment, so I flipped through my CD collection.
“Let’s see… I’ve got the Cars, and we’re in a car so it seems like a worthy choice.” I smiled at him, it was a joke I’d told many times before that usually got an eye roll, and occasionally a laugh. But this time James didn’t give me either, and instead continued looking out the window. “Alright” I said. “Let’s try something you like.” I pulled an Elton John CD out of its sleeve and popped it in the stereo. Elton John is his favorite, and he can’t help but sing along to Rocketman. This was the first time he hadn’t. He even sang to it when I picked him up after his girlfriend dumped him in college.
When we finally arrived at our apartment I pulled into the parking space at the back of our building. James didn’t say a word and silently followed me to our door. Once inside, he went over to the couch, lied down, and closed his eyes. I thought he was probably shaken by his experience and needed some time alone, so I let him be and went to my room. I was a bit worried about him so I spent the day at home Saturday, but he still wouldn’t make conversation with me. Then in the evening, he came out of his room and sat down next to me.
“Take me back, " he whispered.
“Take you back where exactly?”
“To the lake, you said you’d take me back.”
“Oh yeah I guess I said that. Honestly, I don’t really trust the ice after what happened, we should wait a month or so until it fully melts and then just fish like we normally do.”
“But you promised. You said we’d go back another day.”
“Yes, when the ice melts. Maybe it’ll just take a few more weeks.” I said, perplexed at his insistence.
“I need to go back.” he said, eyes suddenly locking with mine.
“You don’t need to go back, you want to go back alright? We are not going back so soon, I’d be stressed out the whole time. You could’ve died, you know.”
“So you won’t take me back?”
“That is correct, the lake is much too dangerous and you’ve been super quiet ever since we got back. I’m going out with Dale tonight, but when I get back we should talk about what happened and try and work through it alright? I’ll be back late, but text me if you need anything. Also, don’t forget it's your turn to make dinner.”
Then I left, and went to meet up with my friend Dale. We had more than a few drinks, and talked about a recent hunting trip he’d been on with his son. Dale has a way of continuing conversations way longer than you’d think possible, but because I don’t see him as much as I used to I let him talk all he wants. Needless to say, I got in pretty late and was very hungry. I didn’t see anything on the counter, so I figured James had wrapped dinner up in the fridge. Standard procedure when I’m out with Dale, who never fails to keep me out all night. But, when I looked in the fridge there was nothing there.
James loved to cook and never missed an opportunity to try out a new recipe on me. I saw his door was open, so I popped my head into his room to see if he was still up. I was surprised to see that he wasn't there, so I decided to see where he was using Find My Friends. When I saw that he was in the middle of a random forest I was confused, until I realized he was heading to the lake on foot. I was very concerned and immediately raced to my car. Admittedly, I had had a few drinks, but I’m a big guy and it was an emergency so I drove out anyway. There wasn’t anyone on the road this late regardless, and all I could think about was James falling through the ice again.
It was very dark when I arrived at the lake. It was still frozen, just as before, but I could make out a figure in the center illuminated by the moonlight. I quickly hurried to the edge and cautiously stepped closer to the figure, ice sometimes cracking underfoot. As I walked I could see a few holes in the ice, presumably caused by animals falling under. I heard splashing water to my left and saw a muddy deer somehow manage to stumble out of the water. It was dragging a dark mass alongside it, and quickly moved into the darkness of the forest out of sight. I heard a yelp as something fell through the water to my right just as I approached James.
He stood with his back toward me, staring into a large hole in the ice.
“James, I saw a lot of holes in the ice on my way over to you. I really don't think this is safe. Let’s go home. I’m worried you might not be thinking clearly, you’re putting us both in danger right now. We really shouldn't be on the ice.”
“Look,” he said, without turning.
I walked up beside him, and looked into the hole. The water was crystal clear, and I could see a naked body tangled in the weeds. Suddenly, James stepped forward and jumped into the hole. Stunned, I watched him move towards the body before the mud obscured my vision. After a few seconds his hand came out of the water reaching towards me. I grabbed it, and with some effort pulled him and the body out onto the ice, hearing a subtle crack as their collective weight bore down on the lake's surface.
“James? What is happening right now?” I said.
He didn’t answer, just stood up and looked at the body with a curious look on his face. He started to wipe the mud off the body with his sleeve, and I realized the corpse had James’ face. They were identical, except for the fact that the body was naked and James was clothed.
“What the fuck? Who is this? Why did you know there was a body here? Why does he look like you?” I said nervously.
In lieu of an answer, James turned to look at me with a confused expression. I backed away slowly and clutched my phone in my pocket ready to call 911, when, suddenly, a muddy deer emerged from the forest and began to approach James. As it got closer I saw it had a bloodied deer leg in its mouth. It moved quickly, and was next to James within seconds. The deer dropped the leg, walked over to the body, and began to lightly chew the dead doppelganger's arm. It looked at James, then back at the body and walked back to where it had dropped the deer leg. Then, it put it back in its mouth and began to chew, before looking back at James again.
“Oh, thanks.” James said.
The deer bowed its head slightly, then returned to the forest.
Suddenly, James dropped to his knees and lifted up an arm of the body. He immediately began tearing into the flesh, savagely ripping off pieces with his muddy hands and teeth. I felt vomit come up my throat, and I blacked out.
Next thing I knew I was in bed. I felt cold, dirty, and tired. When I left my room James was making breakfast as if nothing had happened.
“Good morning,” I said warily.
“Good morning! How’d you sleep?”
I didn’t respond, I could still see the body being torn apart on the ice, but the memories were hazy. I wasn’t drunk at the time but I had been drinking prior, and somehow I was back in the apartment like I’d never left. It all seemed a bit surreal, but I have never had a dream so disturbing before. I looked out the window and saw that my car was still in its spot, but I was also still wearing my clothes from the bar, which initially seemed a tad odd.
“Are you alright?” James said, with a concerned look on his face. “You know you took quite a nasty fall last night. You really shouldn’t drink so much.”
“I fell? When?” I said, touching my head and confirming that it was a bit sore.
“You came home last night after you went drinking with Dale and I guess you slipped on the doormat or something, I heard a thud and found you passed out cold on the floor.”
“Huh, you’re right I guess I did drink a bit too much” I lied. “But you know Dale, he’s just got a way of keeping you on that stool.”
“Clearly! Just know you can call me to pick you up anytime, you don’t have to stumble home all by yourself.”
“Thanks, anyway I’ve got to get going. See you later?”
“Not hungry? I’ve got some eggs here, they’re crunchy, just the way you like them!”
By ‘crunchy’ James meant he had put the entirety of the egg into the bowl and whisked it all together; this was his signature. He lived with his grandfather for a bit as a kid, and apparently the madman refused to separate the shells, claiming they were a great source of calcium. James was always trying to get me to try them, but I always declined.
“No thanks,” I said, unable to suppress a small smile. “I’ve got some errands to run, I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Alright your loss, see you later! Don’t forget it's your turn to make dinner.”
“Of course.” I said, walking out the door and grabbing my keys from the bowl.
When I got to my car I started heading towards the supermarket, but stopped beside the road once I was out of sight of the building. My seat felt slightly damp and the interior had a bit of an earthy smell, so I opened the window. I hoped that I had dreamt the whole thing, but every time I thought about what I’d seen I felt nauseous again. I had to be sure, so I decided to go back to the lake. I was paranoid that James might use Find My Friends on me, so I actually did end up going to the supermarket and hid my phone nearby, and just hoped if he did check it he would only look once. Then I booted up my GPS and headed back to the lake.
As usual, when I arrived the small parking lot was empty. I quickly headed to the lake and very carefully walked towards the center. As I walked my memories of the night prior kept flashing before me, the muddy deer dragging something across the ice, the crunch of the ice beneath my feet. Eventually I reached the spot where James had fallen. The ice was clean, no body in sight. I didn’t even see any blood. I very nervously looked down into the water, but again didn't see anything suspicious. Perhaps this should’ve convinced me it was a dream, but I’m much too stubborn for that, so I decided I would need to find a way to test James. I started heading back to the supermarket in my car to retrieve my phone, and thought up a plan.
When I arrived at the store I grabbed my phone and bought some groceries. Then I went about actually completing my errands as if it were a regular Sunday, albeit much more slowly than I would normally. I managed to stretch out my chores until 4:00 PM, then headed home to start dinner. When I arrived James was on the couch watching television.
“Wow you were gone a long time.” he said.
“Well, I had quite a bit to do. But don’t worry, I’m ready to make you some dinner.” I said cheerfully.
I made spaghetti while he watched Netflix, and when it was done set the table. James’ favorite drink is apple juice, he drinks it paired with almost any meal. So, as anticipated when I asked him what he wanted to drink he asked for it. I got us both opaque glasses, and poured him a cup filled with apple cider vinegar, myself with lemonade, then I called him over to the table.
“Bon Appétit!” I said dramatically, with a flourish of my hand.
“I’m starving, thanks for making one of my favorites.” he said.
“Well, we both had a bit of a difficult weekend, so I’m counting on you to make Shepherd's pie sometime next week.”
“Definitely! You know, you're actually a really good Italian cook! If I didn’t know better I’d think there might be a little rat pulling the strings up there.”
“Well I was classically trained by the best YouTube chefs.” I said, as I watched him down half the glass of vinegar without batting an eye.
After dinner I went to my room and left James with the dishes. Then, I sat down on my computer and began organizing my thoughts. Now I’m just waiting till he goes to sleep before I make my move. I’m going to creep into his room tonight and kill him using an axe I snuck in when I brought up the groceries. I don’t know what he is, but I do know James, my James, is dead. The only thing I can do now is kill the monster I saw eating him. I just hope the element of surprise will be enough, and I pray I'll be able to go through with it when the time comes. I just have to wait for him to turn out the lights, it'll be any moment now.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Marcus is content to stay inside you after you both orgasm, but when he finally slips out of you, he grabs a warm washcloth to sweetly clean you up so you don’t have to do the awkward walk to the bathroom. When you do get up to pee, he’ll find your panties for you in the sheets at the bottom of the bed, just in case you want to wear them while you sleep. If he’s planning a special evening, he’ll fill up the bath with steaming hot water in advance, and lead you to the tub afterwards for soothing warmth and soft kisses and caresses. He knows he’s big, so he’s always concerned about whether you’re in discomfort after sex, and he’ll offer extra cuddles and soft strokes over your entrance if you’re feeling sore. If you’re at his house, he keeps an extra blanket in his bedroom to throw over you before you fall asleep, because he sleeps warm but knows you get chilly. And of course, he sleep-cuddles with you all night long, making you feel safe and secure.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) First, your hands. He loves holding your hand, playing with it, feeling that connection with you. He is fascinated with how tiny your hands are compared to his, and you love how he holds your hand during mundane everyday moments, like walking to dinner, riding the metro, or simply sitting together on the couch while you read or watch TV. He loves your skin in general, how soft you are, how good you smell. He softly rubs his fingers over you when you cuddle together on his couch, like you are his source of comfort. But he is also a boob man, and nothing gets him going like seeing a glimpse of your cleavage or a taut nipple through thin fabric. The first time he took your bra off, he couldn’t stop holding you in his big hands, thumbing your nipples, suckling your soft skin. If you are going on a special date, you’ll purposefully wear a shirt or dress that shows off your chest, then tease him when he flushes stealing glances at you.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Marcus is all about intimacy, so he loves finishing inside you. At first you used condoms, but after getting tested, you both agreed to go without, and the first time he was able to cum in you without any barrier, he was so turned on by the feeling of filling you with his cum, he got hard again before even pulling out. You love giving him an intimate lingam massage, and at the last moment, when you see him start to pulse, take him into your mouth and swallow as he cums down your throat. He almost passed out the first time he experienced this with you, and now it’s your favorite way to make him feel special. But, for everyday intimacy, he still loves finishing in you and staying inside to savor your tight warmth, gently stroking and kissing all the soft parts of you he can reach.
D = Drunk (what they’re like when they’ve been drinking) Believe it or not, Marcus gets even MORE affectionate when he’s been drinking. If you’re home, he’s pulling you onto his lap and whispering sweet adorations in your ear while his hands stroke your arms and legs and ass. If you’re in public, his hand is running up your leg under the table, and in the backseat of the taxi, he’s slowly making his way up your thigh and teasing you over your panties until you are holding back whimpers, gripping his wrists and closing your eyes in pleasure. He never gets so sloppy drunk he needs help, but he’ll have a few extra drinks if he knows he gets to take you home and make sweet, tipsy love to you for the rest of the night.
E = Emergency Situations (what they’re like in an emergency) I mean, he’s an FBI agent. You’ve never felt safer than when you’re sleeping in his arms. He hates having to bring his gun on dates, but you assure him you understand, and you secretly feel a little better knowing he’s prepared if anything goes south. And he looks hot wearing it. The first time he came to your apartment, he checked your locks and alarms (with your permission) to make sure you were safe. He has some quirks, like never sitting with his back to a doorway, or silently checking out every person who walks in the room, but you understand it’s a part of his training. You feel safe walking with him through the streets of D.C. at night, and you often suggest walking back to either your or his apartment instead of taking the metro or a taxi. You both love these moments together walking hand in hand through the city, sometimes in silence, just enjoying each others’ presence.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) This man loves missionary because it allows him to be close to your sweet face, but there is nothing boring about it. He thinks like both an artist and a cop, so he's going to pay close attention to your moans of pleasure and how your body responds to his touches. He'll take his time stroking and building your desire with his hands and mouth, and then when you are absolutely aching for him, he’ll cage you in his strong biceps and slowly, sweetly, inch by inch, fill you completely, your hands gripping his muscular arms and back as he stretches you. And when he finally starts moving, his big hands stroking your hair and face, he’ll use his tongue to do to your mouth what his cock is doing to you elsewhere, until you lose yourself in pleasure in his arms.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) Marcus is definitely more sweet than goofy, but he does like tickling you out of nowhere on the couch or in bed in the mornings, because he knows it leads to more touching and soft kisses and sex. During sex, he is usually too worried about making sure you feel good and safe to joke around too much, but he can laugh when things go wrong, like accidentally leaning on your hair or an awkward position change. Or that time you got a little excited and spilled the red wine sitting on the side table all over the bed. (Oops!)
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Judging by his well-groomed head and facial hair, you guessed he would also be well-groomed below, and you were right. Not bare, but closely trimmed. It made his dick look even bigger. As if he needed it.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Marcus believes intimacy starts long before sex. He’ll cook for you, give you massages, and tell you all the things he loves about your body as he notices them. At first, it’s a little hard for you to accept, because you’re not used to hearing what someone loves about you, but you soon realize he wears his heart on his sleeve, and you learn to appreciate how openly he adores you. You give him compliments, soft touches, head scritches, and splurge on his favorite bakery treats as a way to make him feel loved, too. And by the time you are in bed, the world-shattering orgasms you share are the natural progression of your intimacy.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Marcus would prefer to cum in you, not kleenex, so he doesn’t jack-off very often any more. If its been a while since he’s been able to see you, he’ll gladly engage in mutual Facetime sex with you. It’s especially hot if you’re both in hotel rooms. Oh, and that one time you texted him that picture, and he had to shut his office door and quickly stroke himself to completion so he didn’t walk into his next meeting with an erection.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) You suggested once that Marcus stay in his suit, complete with badge and gun, and slowly undress you, until you were fully nude. You sat on his lap, and being able to hold you naked against him while he remained fully clothed uncovered a slight domination kink he never knew he had. It was still important to him he didn’t hurt you, but you encouraged him to touch and explore you, and by the time he finally took out his cock, you were both on the verge of cumming as soon as he slid into you. He also loves cockwarming, because it satisfies his need for intimacy and closeness. He’ll cuddle in behind you in bed and slide himself inside you, and you love feeling full and warm and safe. Or, sometimes he’ll stay on his back while you sleep on his body, chest to chest, and he’ll put his arms around you while you sleep with his cock buried deep inside you. You especially love when you wake up in the middle of the night to his sleepy moans and the feel of him growing hard inside you.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Definitely his bedroom. He takes pride in having created a bed worth fucking in: high thread count sheets, down pillows, soft, gray-toned bedding, flattering lighting, candles, and a very sturdy headboard. He loves seducing you on the sofa or in the kitchen, then leading you by the hand to his bedroom, and falling into the luxurious bed with you. His side table always has lube, and other sweet, sensual enhancements. And of course, his master bathroom is elegant and warm, with a tray for washcloths next to the sink, and thick, fluffy towels outside the bathtub and glass shower. It’s his favorite place to spend hours and hours with you, and some Sundays, he only gets up to answer the food delivery driver at the front door, or to grab more wine.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Marcus is motivated by love and how much he adores you. He expresses himself through touch and sex, so just spending time with you puts him in the mood. He loves your hair, your eyes, the way you lean into his soft caresses and use his belly or biceps as a warm pillow. When you lovingly scratch his back and stroke his scalp? Forget about it. Instant erection. And whether you are dressed for comfort or for going out, he loves your style and is turned on by the thought of being lucky enough to be with the most beautiful woman in the room. But, don’t even get him started on lingerie. His first erection was seeing a Victoria’s Secret catalog on the kitchen table as a boy, and he’s never gotten over the titillating thrill of lace, satin, and shyly exposed curves. He has a degree in Art History, and definitely has an eye for beauty and sensual experiences. He buys you panties and chemises to keep at his place, and on special occasions, spends all evening fantasizing about what you’re wearing underneath, and just how you’ll disrobe for him later. (You love surprising him with a merry widow, garters, and thigh highs in his favorite color.) In fact, given the chance, he’ll try to convince you to let him undress you before you even have a chance to go out for the night, and just stay in.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Degradation is off the table, as well as anything that hurts you. He’s nervous to leave a mark. And you’ve asked him to explore light choking, but he’s just not there yet.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Marcus is a pleaser, and his love language is ‘touch’, so he prefers to give, and his oral game is off the charts. He starts by kissing and caressing your whole body, so you’re completely warmed up and tingling before he even reaches your center. He loves focusing on you and hearing your moans and sighs of pleasure, and the way you say his name over and over, like a prayer, when you’re close to cumming. You’ve felt like you nearly passed out a few times, just from the intensity of the orgasms he gives you. (And as a bonus, it’s a little easier for his large member to slide in afterwards.) As far as receiving, you’ve finally convinced him you also get turned on when he finishes in your mouth, but what he really loves is the attention you pay to his body: the feel of your hands on his thick thighs, kissing your way down his neck and chest and belly trail, using your hands and mouth together to massage and suck his cock and sensitive head. And if he does come in your mouth, he enjoys the intimacy of you swallowing, if you’re up for it. He especially loves when you slide your thumb firmly up his cock after he finishes, emptying the last bits of cum from him, licking the head to get every last drop. And then gently cleaning him with a washcloth in the warm candlelight. He looks at you with such love in his eyes, and reaches for you, pulling you tightly against him.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) In the dictionary next to ‘slow and sensuous’, there is a picture of Marcus. His preference is to spend hours and hours in bed with you, incorporating soft music, candles, wine, oils, and adoration of your body, bringing you to the edge with his tongue and hands, then plunging you over the edge when he thrusts into you. In fact, sometimes you just want it hard and fast, but it’s foreign to him. Why take 20 minutes when you can take 2 hours? You know to keep your Saturday evenings and Sunday mornings open for Marcus and his love of sensuality.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Marcus likes to make a fuss, so quickies go against everything in his heart. He’ll do it to please you, such as if you only have a little while before dinner, or if you are feeling stressed or in pain and need a release. But he doesn’t really initiate them.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) Listen. Marcus is all about risk. It’s why he became an FBI Agent, and why he enjoys the cat-and-mouse game that comes with chasing art thieves. He has never had an idea he didn’t act on, no matter how inappropriate or impetuous. So when it comes to sex, he’s more than willing to introduce some risk, as long as you are not going to be hurt. Sex in the evidence room? Fuck yeah. He’ll teach you about the art while he fingers you next to a priceless statue. Role playing FBI Agent and sexy art thief? Oh yeah, he’s down for that, and knows exactly what to do with you once he catches you. You plan to give him fur-lined handcuffs for his birthday, just so he feels more secure about not hurting you. And you can’t wait.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) The great thing about Marcus Pike is he knows sex is more than just penetration. He usually is good for two rounds before he needs time to recover, but that doesn’t mean you are only going to experience a round or two. When it comes to giving you pleasure and making you feel adored, his stamina is endless. He’s always ready to caress and kiss and stroke you, massage you, feed you sensuous bites of the special meal he’s made for you, and stay awake until you are satiated.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) His side drawer has a few little goodies you never expected, like nipple tingle cream (he loves applying it!), oils for massaging your back, thighs, and ass when you have stressful days, and a heavy feather pillow to put under your hips, raising you into the perfect position to take him as deeply as possible. You recently stashed a silk scarf in the drawer, and he’s open to you trying it on him, this time. Perfect for heightening the lingam massage experience. He’s not opposed to battery toys, but he’ll wait for you to suggest it, because he’s not sure what you’d like, and he wants you to enjoy it.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Marcus wears his heart on his sleeve a little too openly to be a tease, but the exception is when he incorporates his love for art into foreplay by painting your semi-nude portrait. You’ll never forget the first time he showed you his home studio; you had no idea he was an artist, but his talent inspired his art history degree and career, and he softly asks you, while stroking your bare arm with the back of his fingers, if you’d be willing to pose for him. You nod in agreement, swallowing nervously. He chooses what you’re (barely) wearing, and keeps you warm with a heater while he sketches and paints. Every now and then, he’ll stop to just admire you, and when you self-consciously ask him, “What??” he smiles and says, “Just making some decisions, sweetheart.” Or, “Just admiring the most beautiful art I’ve ever seen.” But he won’t let you see the painting until he’s finished, and it takes several sessions. No matter what, he won’t budge. You didn’t know he had it in him to say “No” to you! But when he finally unveils your portrait, it was worth the wait.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Marcus isn’t very loud, but what he lacks in volume, he makes up for with expressive words of adoration and sensuality. He’s usually whispering to you, rather than loudly moaning, but you love his voice in your ear, urging you to orgasm with his words, tongue, and cock. And when he stops talking and uses his mouth to kiss and lick your ear? Instant cum button.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) Marcus has been married 3 times. No kids, though.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) He stays in shape running, and is proud of his muscular legs. As he’s gotten older, he has a soft little tummy you love, and both his belly and his broad shoulders are perfect for your head when you’re cuddling on the couch. As far as his cock, he’s above average in both length and girth, so he takes extra care to make sure you are wet and soft before sliding inside you. In fact, after the first time you had sex with him multiple times in one night, you were bleeding a little bit the next morning, just due to how stretched you were inside by his huge erect cock. He felt terrible, but you assured him it didn’t hurt, due to not having many nerve endings up there. But, he is now mindful to ask if you’re okay before starting another round, and you have to assure him it’s always worth it.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) High. Sky high. International Space Station high. He can’t get enough of you. It doesn’t matter whether you’re in a fancy gown, comfy yoga pants and t-shirt, or sexy lingerie: he wants you.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Marcus never falls asleep first, if he can help it. Sometimes when you’ve given him a lingam massage and warm washcloth cleanup, he struggles, and you are quick to whisper in his ear it’s okay to fall asleep, his arms around you, using your breasts he loves so much as his favorite pillow. But usually he stays awake to make sure you’re not shivering from cold or uncomfortable in any way, and only falls asleep when he hears your breathing soften and slow down, and your body relax into his cuddling embrace. Usually the last thing you remember is his soft kiss against your temple. But first to wake up? Always you. Sometimes you wake him up by stroking his hardening cock, sometimes with gentle kisses on his face, and sometimes with soft fingers stroking the fair away from his peacefully sleeping face. He’ll gladly stay awake after you if it means he gets to wake up to your gentle ministrations.

I’m researching right now and nowhere is giving me the answers even on Reddit and it’s making me insane lol
I was thinking of getting a ceramic heat lamp, especially bc my house gets super cold at night so I could have some heat overnight without lights on and they last a lot longer, but I read they don’t provide any UVA or UVB and was wondering do I need to get a daytime light that provides both of these or do I not need any lighting at all?
Every time I tried to google UVA information all the results would just be articles debating the need of UVB
I also wanted to know about the heat guards, I already have a wooden vivarium from a friend and it has a metal guard on the inside of the enclosure for the light or ceramic bulb, and I wasn’t sure if the guard would get super hot since it’s metal?
I know to get two thermometers for each end but where should I place the probe? I saw some say near the ground and some say against the surface of where the snake will bask on, with others saying a IR gun is better for checking surfaces and the probes are just for ambient air temp.
So yeah my main part is should I get a ceramic bulb or something else? And if I get a ceramic bulb will I need a day light that provides UVA and UVB and will the heat guard be safe?

ALL ITEMS HAVE BEEN SOLD, TRADED, OR WITHDRAWN - thank you KS community! 🙏

TIMESTAMP/FAMILY PIC
HOUSEKEEPING ITEMS: WTS to make room for upcoming drops and to open up customization $’s towards other knives. Always open to trades, but would lean towards a preference to sell at this point, but bring me what you’ve got.
YOLO in public comments - will always beat any direct PM or Chat.
All prices are factoring in shipping to North America (CONUS & CA). Any additional fees for shipping internationally will be the responsibility of the buyer.
All items will be shipped on or by end of business on Tuesday the 31st of May via USPS Priority Mail or UPS, both w/ tracking.
All $10 add-on knives can be “added onto” the purchase of an additional knife on this posting OR can be bought for $20 for the first knife, which includes shipping for that knife and any other “added” $10 knives purchased.
This community is rad - please help keep it that way, by choosing NOT to be an idiot.
If I’m way off on price, and you want something, send me a chat and make an offer… please don’t do the douchey “call out in the comments” BS, since - ya know… I have a life, and kids, and a full time job, so if I’m off… well I’m off, get over it and make me an offer my man!

THE LIST

PRICES & VIDEO (w/ verbal walk- through)

1. WITHDRAWN BNIB Spyderco Leafjumper SE, VG-10 - $85 - VIDEO WITHDRAWN
   
2. SOLD Unique Spyderco Manix 2 G-10 PE, DLC S30V - $130 - VIDEO SOLD
   
3. SOLD Spyderco UKPK, CTS-BD1N (blade swap) - $45 - VIDEO SOLD
   
4. SOLD Spyderco Mantra 2, M4 - $95 - VIDEO SOLD
   
5. SOLD Spyderco Native 5 LW PE, DLC REX-45 - $110 w/ Lynch clip - VIDEO SOLD
   
6. SOLD Spyderco Native 5 LW SE, DLC S30V - $72.50 - VIDEO SOLD
   
7. TRADED Flytanium Benchmade Bugout, Grey S30V - $155 - VIDEO TRADED
   
8. WITHDRAWN Kershaw Leek, BlackWashed 14C28N - $45 - VIDEO WITHDRAWN
   
9. SOLD Spyderco Manix 2 Blade Only, S30V - $50 - VIDEO SOLD
   
10. SOLD FAKE Spyderco Manix 2 Blade Only, “S30V” 🤷🏻‍♂️ - $10 - VIDEO SOLD
    

$10 ADD-ON KNIVES

VIDEO
DID NOT SELL / saving for next knife purge! Kershaw Natrix Assisted; Black G-10; 8CR13MoV
SOLD Boker Strike Auto; OD Green; AUS-8 SOLD
SOLD Byrd Robin 2 Wharnie Serrated; Black FRN; 8CR13MoV SOLD
SOLD Kershaw Natrix Small; Copper; D2 SOLD
SOLD Fake Manix 2 Blade; Stonewashed; “S30V” but could be #whoknowswhat SOLD

WRITTEN DETAILS

1. WITHDRAWN LEAFJUMPER: First Owner. BNIB - just arrived from BladeHQ in the last two weeks. Love this thing, but am wanting the Rockjumper wharnie, or the upcoming K390 Leafjumper. Buy this for a few dollar discount, don’t pay for shipping & save me the time-waste of a return. Box/Papers/Stickeetc - $85 WITHDRAWN
   
2. SOLD MANIX 2: Bought this used therefore, 3rd Owner. Began as an all-black Manix 2. All parts of this knife from liners to blade and even hardware has been ceramic-stonewashed, and put back together using the brown G-10 scales from the BBB 15V Manix 2. Re-profiled the blade personally to a hair-shaving-near-mirror ceramic finished edge @ 17* DPS on the Worksharp Precision Adjust. Ships in box & paperwork from original Manix. Currently has “light spring” and will ship with original spring as well. - $130 SOLD
   
3. SOLD UKPK: First Owner. Began as a LC200 UKPK Salt. Blade-swapped CTS-BD1N blade & all nickel hardware into this new & never used handle + added a no-name Lynch-knock-off deep carry clip. Makes a unique, one of a kind slip-joint knife great for EDC. Re-profiled the blade personally to a hair-shaving-near-mirror ceramic finished edge @ 15* DPS on the Worksharp Precision Adjust. Ships in box. - $45 SOLD
   
4. SOLD MANTRA 2: Bought this used off the swap therefore, 3rd Owner. Was in rough shape when I got it. Taken apart, cleaned, lubed, de-gummed bearings, fresh edge, and selling for what I paid. Would keep it, but I like the Mantra 3 better. Re-profiled the blade personally to a hair-shaving-near-mirror ceramic finished edge @ 15* DPS on the Worksharp Precision Adjust. No box. Ships in CIVIVI Zip Pouch. - $95 SOLD
   
5. SOLD NATIVE 5 LW REX PE: Bought this BNIB off the swap therefore, 2nd Owner. Unused outside of testing on paper, and deciding it needed a new edge. Perfect shape. Awesome action for a backlock, flickable, etc. Re-profiled the blade personally to a hair-shaving-near-mirror ceramic finished edge @ 15 or 17* DPS (can’t remember) on the Worksharp Precision Adjust. Wearing a Blacksmith Lynch Deep Carry Clip. No box. - $110 w/ Lynch clip SOLD
   
6. SOLD NATIVE 5 LW S30v SE: Bought this new therefore, 1st Owner. Great shape, never seen any hard use whatsoever, barely even any use actually. Flickable action, etc. Only modification is the very top straight-blade (1/4 inch or so) has been sharpened away from the standard chisel grind, and a typical 15* DPS double-bevel edge for typical EDC tasks. No box. - $72.50 SOLD
   
7. TRADED via chat discussion FLYTANIUM BUGOUT: Bought this new therefore, 1st Owner. Began as a Bugout 535-GRY-1 w/ Ranger Green fancy-plastic scales. Flytanium Crossfade black micarta scales (made darker w/oil), Flytanium Brass backspacer (adding weight), Flytanium Titanium Brass hardware. Has been used, but not abused. Grey blade coating shows wear marks but may be able to be removed as the coating is very strong. Re-profiled the blade personally to a hair-shaving-near-mirror ceramic finished edge @ 15* DPS on a Worksharp Precision Adjust. No box. - $155 TRADED via chat discussion
   
8. WITHDRAWN KERSHAW LEEK: Bought new therefore, 1st Owner. Leek Model # 1660BLKW has a black-oxide BlackWash coating on both the Sandvik 14C28N stainless steel blade and the 410 stainless steel handle. SpeedSafe assisted opening w/ flipper. Very light user. Looks like a factory edge, no memory of sharpening myself. May have been ceramic honed or stropped if anything. No box. - $45 WITHDRAWN
   

No Written Details for Add-On Knives (see above video walkthrough for any context or details needed)

Hit me up with any questions concerns, offers, thoughts, etc…

I'm hoping to get a little advice or perspective on a new system design as we enter the quoting phase. At a high level, we're gutting and renovating a ~100 year home in great lakes region (zone 5a). Currently, all the walls are open and there are no ducts. After renovations, the upstairs will be 3bd and 950sqft. Downstairs will be 1550sqft and have a small office and a bedroom, but will be pretty open otherwise. The only real constraint, mostly due to zoning rules, is that we can only have a single outdoor unit. We prefer to go all electric, but not opposed to gas as a backup if it makes more sense. For what it's worth, if we went gas, we'd use it for the water heater. If we didn't, we disconnect gas altogether.
Anyways, I only know what I've researched over the past week, so could be missing lots of details, but I can really only see two options:

1. There's space for a chase in the plan, so keep it simple and have a single air handler or furnace.
2. Use a multi-zone system (Mitsubishi I assume). We have space in the attic and basement for separate ducts and air handler.

I guess my questions are should we consider some other approach and is one approach inherently better than the other. Price isn't a huge factor, but of course we'll consider it. Down the road, we might be able to add an additional outdoor unit, but I'm not sure it's worth designing around it. The only reason to consider that is that eventually, we'll finish the basement and add roughly 900sqft (including laundry and gym). I'm not too worried about that right now, but perhaps that is naive.
Again, just looking for some feedback and advice. Definitely let me know if I forgot to include an important detail.

SPOILERS!!!
The following are a collection of things I've noted in the game and my interpretation of said things, sorry in advanced if I'm all over the place. Also, obviously spoilers.
Details: -we see that Raoru has 7 stones, one he has himself and his sister and wife have two more, leaving 4 stones to be sealed in secret. These stone pair and amplify the users abilities with the odd property of turning the user into s dragon if consumed. Raoru can't use more than one stone which is why he resorts to creating the sages for help. Why were the stones sealed, and why do they turn you into dragons? -we also see that when Zelda turns into a dragon, her dragon shares her element which is sacred power, it has has a complexion that resembles a hylian with pointy ears and a longer thinner snout. This is in direct contrast to the dragons we see ingame dinrall, farosh and naydra, who have zonai characteristics. They are zonai looking with long hears goat snouts and even have the same design for scale/hair in their snouts that Raoru has on its chin. We see that the dragons complexion depends on the creature that transforms into it, as well as its element. Just like the demon king turns into a demon dragon which produces gloom just like Ganondorf.
-In the depths we see a statues that lead you to different mines, they represent primitive versions of the Gerudo, hylians, Zora's, Rito, and Gordon's, but there's also another statue of a species that doesn't resemble the Zonai at all, lacking her slender figure and big ears. Their build and snout are also different with no horns. This statue is the one we see in Joshua's quest, and it is grasping a stone like thing.
-we also find Huge "Dark Skeletons" in the depths right below where the three great skeletons are. These skeletons are several times the size oft he whales, are serpent like, have consistent spikes in their spine that end in three spikes on the top of their head with a fourth broken one. Their skull has a weird snout opening and they have no limbs.

• The zonai architecture has depictions of dragons, but these don't look like dinral Farosh or naydra. Just like the dark skeletons they're serpent like, have consistent spikes along it's spine which end with three spikes on their head with a horn which could be the fourth broken spike on the skeletons. Also the snout of the dragon depictions also look like the snout opening on the skull of the skeletons.

-If we look at the Flame, Frost and Shock emitter devices, we see depictions of dragons of their respective element but while incredibly similar they are different from Dinral, Farosh and naydra. Flame emitter has 4 horns unlike dinral that has 2, The frost emitter has horns just like naydra but are oriented backwards instead of spread like naydras, and the shock emitter's horn is helix shaped unlike Farosh that has a wavy horn. There's also the cannon device which depicts the dragons we see all around zonai architecture with their 3 spikes on their head with a fourth one being a horn.
-Theres also the dragon armor sets, ember charged and frostbite that are clearly intended to be based on dinral, farosh and naydra with the correct horn shape. These armor sets are described as ceremonial but clearly exhibit powers of their respective dragon under the right conditions. Also to note, Raoru's clothes look incredibly similar to the charged set with some changes.

• looking at the depths, we know that they're ment to mirror the surface, but maybe they don't mirror it in a methaforical way sinse most of the mirroring has a logical reason to be. Mountains are pits because the zonai exploited the mines, mines are also places where there are no settlements on the surface. Wellsprings is just water from the springs on top. Whales know when they're gonna die and choose to beach themselves, these being magical whales, they could've gravitated to areas of power left by the dark skeletons. Lakes are huge walls in the depths because the bodies of water are deeper. Lightfoot is probably tied to shrines. Ingame zonai shrines are meant to hold light to dispel evil ( unlike the sheikah shrines meant to test the hero) the shrines could use the light root to collect the light that's stored in the shrines. Chasms are located where some shrines used to be because the structural integrity of those spots were affected when they dismantled the shrines and sheikah tech. We see chasms where there weren't any shrines in botw like in wels etc so it's mainly due to cave INS than any other reason.

-Poes are weak souls with a blue color, stronger souls or ghosts exhibit a greenish color. The sheikah energy is said to be devine energy harvested with furnaces connected to the underground. Sheikah based their take on the zonai tech they recovered. Maybe the energy efficiency is weak therefore it takes on a blue hue, the zonai have refined this tech and there fore is green, which is why there are no furnaces powerering zonai tech. Also why spirit energy is blue when weak and green when is stronger and more pure. Just like phantoms that can exhibit a physical form and poes that can't without exerting more energy.
Now for my theory:
The Zonai were an advanced alien space fairing civilization that, thru their ceremonial practices, create life in planets and mine their resources. Just like engineers do in the movie Aliens. Secret stones were tools that would sacrifice the user to create and immortal dragon, an embodiment of their respective element and a power source. Dragons in conjunction with their armor sets were used to terraform planets and create life by controlling the balance of the world. Only a handful of Zonai arrive to this planet and they create a slave race to use as sacrifices for dragon creation and as the workforce at the mines ( this race is the one depicted in the unknown statue in the depths). Turns out that there was already life on this planet being the Hylians, Gorons, rito, zora and gerudo. The zonai are worship as gods. With time constructs are invented and manipulation of spirit energy is discovered. A war rises between the zonai who want slaves and the ones that don't. Dragons are used as weapons of war and result in a cataclysmal event that kills almost everyone, most of the zonai and the dragons. This is why even after so long there's still incredible amounts of lost souls and poes in the depths, it was a world ending event ending billions. To avoid complete destruction, three of the remaining zonai sacrifice themselves to turn into dragons and restore the balance of the world which are the zonai dragons we see in game. These Zonai were what people came to know as the goddesses Din Faron and Nayru which instilled their dragons with the will of keeping the balance and saving the world. This is why the goddesses almost never take direct aproaches, they act thru their dragons subconscious instilled will. The remaining zonai seal the last secret stones and begin restoring civilization. Time passes and with a dying technology even the zonai start to forget their golden age, turning into dragons is forbidden to avoid the last cataclysm. They discover that zonite has the properties of taking the shape of different thing and they mine zonite with constructs to start preparing the kingdom. Time passes the remaining zonai have kids eventually we reach Raoru and Mineru, they know of the dark past of the zonai ( which is why Raoru is upset when Ganon brings up the lack of zonai) mineru focuses on the study of zonai tech and Raoru focuses on rebuilding a kingdom that unites all races to avoid the last history ( this is why the gerudo recurve the invitation and Raoru still tries with Ganon) he married a hylian wife to unite the races below a new kingdom of hyrule. Raoru and Sonia have a kid. The events of the game happens. Raoru is forced to use the stones and trust them once more to others while trying to avoid using them for draconification, Zelda still does it after Raorus sacrifice is not enough. The sages race the sky islands to make sure that links place of return is protected by the sky barrier. Time passes Hyrule's royal family descendant of zonai find a Gerudo wife and have a son, the first male gerudo after Ganon ( this is why the heros aspect and the hero of the tapestry has red hair) this is also why we see the blood line of the hero use more gerudo imagery like link in botw having gerudo bandages which are the same as the designs in the zonai device capsules.
Things to note:

• I dont know where the timelines fit into this, my guess is that them being a time space fairing species, they used time travel to also avoid destruction and have a way to eventually join all timeline little by little, which is why we see different timeline elements by botw as the remains of this story in depths also resurface.
• Hylia is known as the godess of time, which re encarnate s as hylian, she wasn't hylian before. Maybe she was a zonai under or friend to Din, Faron and Nayru which is why she is a godess but not of the main three and why she has this weird relationship with dragons. She continue the war after the goddesses sacrifice to be the master sword we know. And fighting a multidimensional enemy known as demise from a mirrored version for their world after the tryforce is set so no zonai con use it. Which forced hylia to turn into hylian. In a similar process that makes it lose herself.

-Events of other timelines happening differently could have been zonai using timeline splits to minimize the damage of the destruction, which lead to time altering relics like the ocarina of time that's under the descendants of the zonai, the Hyrule royal family.

• I find it odd that the sheikah symbol is an eye with exaggerated lashes and a tear. Maybe they knew that the the kingdom would be safe after said events of the dragon tears, and the eye is Zelda's dragon eye with tears. So the sheikah who serve hylia are born to protect Zelda until the moment when this whole conflict ends to the point of finding Zelda's dragon tears ( this is one far fetched but it's still interesting)
  
• Fun fact, the depths armor set looks like the Garo outfit from Majora's mask, which was from Ilana the land of the dead, a dead civilization. The armor set has the red bezels with golden inscriptions just like the garo do, as well of depictions of a worm like creatures like twinmold from Majora's mask. The srmos leg is also basically strap bandages like the garo. I still don't know where the bargainers statues come into play but the armor is clearly from the "depths" which is the remains of this ancient civilization just like in majora the garo are remains of the war and Majora's mask termina is supposed to mirror Hyrule.
  
• The zonai and gerudo have very similar to identical symbols and imagery so their people were clearly influenced by one or each other.
  

If you somehow managed to make it to the end. Thank you for reading this far 😂 please feel free to poke at the theory so we can come closer to somehow explaining how all these elements come together.

Revelation 1:9 I, John, both your brother and companion in the tribulation and kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ, was on the island that is called Patmos for the word of God and for the testimony of Jesus Christ.
When the Roman emperor Domitian (81 - 96 AD) decided to make a big issue about being worshiped as a god, he issued a circular letter which began with the words, “Our Master and our God bids that this be done.” "Our Master and our God" of course being Domitian.
Many Christians got caught up in the persecutions that followed, and the apostle John was no execution. As the story goes, John was sentenced to die by being place in a vat of boiling oil. The emperor himself, desiring to witness the death of the apostle, was present as John was placed into the vat of boiling oil, but to the utter astonishment of everyone - not only did he not die, he was not even hurt. He was delivered just as the three Hebrews were delivered from the flames of the furnace in Daniels day. To say the least, the emperor was somewhat unnerved by this turn of events. But what do you do with a prisoner you can’t kill? You banish him to a tiny island far far way away from Rome. And that is where John now finds himself, on the tiny island of Patmos.
Revelation 1:10 I was in the Spirit on the Lord's Day.
In all the Scripture there is only one day which God has declared to be the Lord’s Day. God is the maker of all days, but there was only one day upon which He has placed His name.
The 7th day Sabbath which comes down to us from Creation week is consistently referred to as the Sabbath of the Lord thy God throughout Scripture. In the heart of the 10 Commandments God declares that “the seventh day is the Sabbath of the LORD your God.” This day is never anywhere in Scripture referred to as belonging to any other than God. It is never referred to as the Jewish Sabbath, or the Hebrew Sabbath, but only and always as the “Sabbath of the Lord your God.”
In Isaiah God declares this day to be His holy day. "If you turn away your foot from the Sabbath, From doing your pleasure on My holy day, And call the Sabbath a delight, The holy day of the LORD honorable, And shall honor Him, not doing your own ways, Nor finding your own pleasure, Nor speaking your own words, Then you shall delight yourself in the LORD; And I will cause you to ride on the high hills of the earth, And feed you with the heritage of Jacob your father. The mouth of the LORD has spoken." Isaiah 58:13-14.
And in the New Testament Jesus declares that He is the Lord of the Sabbath. "For the Son of Man is Lord even of the Sabbath." Matthew 12:8. (See also Mark 2:28 and Luke 6:5).
In all Scripture there is no other day so identified by God Himself as being His Day, the Lord’s Day. And so we can safely say that it was on the 7th day Sabbath that John saw this vision that we know as the book Revelation.
Revelation 1:10-11 … and I heard behind me a loud voice, as of a trumpet, saying, "I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last," and, "What you see, write in a book and send it to the seven churches which are in Asia: to Ephesus, to Smyrna, to Pergamos, to Thyatira, to Sardis, to Philadelphia, and to Laodicea."
“Alpha and Omega,” one of the symbolic names of Christ - the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet. Just as the alphabet provides an exhaustless medium of expression, so is Jesus and His love an exhaustless theme for meditation. Eternity will be all too short to reveal all the wonders of His love and power. He is the first and the last, the beginning and the end of all things. He is “the author and finisher of our faith,” (Heb 12:2) “the author of eternal salvation.” (Heb 5:9).
“the seven churches“
The number seven is a highly symbolic number in the Bible. It is a symbol of the fullness, the completeness, the wholeness of God’s work. There are seven churches, seven letters, seven stars, seven candlesticks, seven Spirits of God, seven lamps of fire, seven seals, seven trumpets, seven horns, seven eyes, seven thunders, seven heads, seven crowns, seven angels, seven vials, seven mountains, etc. The list goes on and on.
The seven churches mentioned in Revelation were not the only churches in Asia, nor were they the most important. Their selection, however, is deeply significant. The cities where these churches existed lay along the imperial post road. This Roman highway was built about 133 BC. It passed through (in order) Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamos, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia, and Laodicea, where it joined another main post highway.
Spiritual significance of the churches
And in a book of symbols, it should not be strange that the seven churches themselves are symbols. “And he sent and signified it by his angel unto his servant John.” To signify means to communicate by signs, tokens and symbols. And so, just how do these seven churches stand as symbols? This first prophetic sequence, the seven churches, give the spiritual history of Christianity from John’s day to the second coming of Jesus.
But not just the spiritual history of Christianity as a whole. This prophetic sequence gives one of the clearest examples to be found in the Bible of the multi-layered nature of many prophecies. Consider this. It has been observed by many that not only do the seven churches accurately describe the spiritual condition of Christianity through the ages, (and they do), but it has also been noted that individual denominations go through the same spiritual cycle. And not just denominations, but also individual congregations within a denomination, and on a much more personal level, individual members (that's you and me) of a church often move through this same spiritual cycle -- Starting out on fire for the Lord as was Ephesus but finally ending up with the luke-warm complacency and comfortable religion of Laodicia. At any time in history you will find individuals, congregation and denominations at any one of these stages. The letters however define what the over all prevailing spiritual health of the church was at each stage in its history.
And the message to the churches are spiritual messages. The Spirit is mentioned seven times in the message to the seven churches, once in each period. The holy Spirit, therefore, works through the entire period of the seven churches.
Therefore, the seven Spirits is a symbol of the complete work of the Holy Spirit through the history of the seven churches from the time of John until the second coming of Christ. The Holy Spirit is to be there always through each period to help all in their infirmities (weaknesses) and prayers (Rom 8:26).
And also we find in the letters the complete work of the Holy Spirit in the lives of every individual who has ever called on the name of the Lord. Ultimately, it is on the individual, personal level that the prophecy much be lived. And in one way or another we are all addressed personally in these seven letters. And this very personal application of the prophecy is much more clearly presented and more easily seen in this first prophetic sequence than in the others. But it reminds us that prophecy is more than just mere information. As will be seen when we get to the letters themselves - prophecy is an invitation to come into a closer relationship with God.

Watering a bonsai tree is an essential part of bonsai care. It should be done regularly and with the right amount to ensure healthy growth. Generally, water your bonsai tree once or twice a week, allowing the soil to dry out between watering. The best way to check if your bonsai needs water is by sticking your finger into the soil; if it feels dry, it’s time for watering. When you do water, use lukewarm water and pour it slowly onto the top of the soil until moisture begins to appear at the bottom of the pot - this will usually take about 10 minutes. Be careful not to overwater as this can cause root rot in the plant.

Types of Water

Watering a bonsai tree is essential for its health and to prevent it from drying out. Finding the right water source can be tricky as there are many options that can fit the bill. Here are some of the most common types of water that work best for bonsai trees:
Rainwater is often considered one of the best waters for a bonsai tree due to its purity and lack of toxins or added chemicals that can be found in tap water. Collecting rainwater in clean buckets or other containers is an easy way to get quality water, but may require additional filtering before using it on your plants if you’re concerned about contamination.
Tap water contains chlorine and other additives like fluoride, which aren’t ideal for nourishing bonsais, so removing those chemical compounds beforehand would be necessary when using this type of water. You might need to store the tap-water overnight in a bucket or container so these compounds could evaporate into air, leaving only pure H2O behind.
Well-water usually has a lot less chemicals than tap water since they come from deep underground sources. However, depending on how much minerals your well-source collects while going through different rocks layers; it could contain more calcium and magnesium that will eventually accumulate around your soil's drainage holes over time and consequently lead to blockage issues on the long run. This means you'll have to check their levels regularly and adjust them accordingly with a good reverse osmosis filtration system.

Supplies for Watering

As one of the essential steps in caring for a bonsai, watering needs to be done correctly and consistently in order to keep it healthy. It’s best to invest in supplies specifically designed for this purpose that will help ensure that your bonsai tree receives an adequate amount of water on a regular basis.
To start, purchase a dedicated container for bringing and storing water such as a gallon-sized bucket with handles. This container should remain clean at all times and should not be used for anything other than bonsai watering. It also helps if the container has measurements printed on its side so you can easily tell how much water is present each time it’s filled up. A second container or basin can come in handy if you have multiple bonsais - this way you can fill them up separately without having to transport gallons of water back and forth from the spigot or faucet outdoors or even from another room inside your home.
When it comes time to actually water your plants, don’t just grab any old hose. A spray nozzle with adjustable settings can make directing exactly where the water goes simple, efficient, and precise – definitely preferable over using just raw force of your hand or wrist motions alone which could leave too much liquid concentrated in certain areas while leaving others very dry depending on user error (or lack thereof). If possible, make sure whatever nozzle attachment purchased is small enough so you can reach into tight corners between branches near where roots enter the soil safely without risk of damaging sensitive foliage above ground.

Knowing When to Water

Watering a bonsai tree is an essential part of keeping it healthy and growing in its ideal shape. Knowing when to water your bonsai can be challenging, but with these tips you will have no problem judging how often you need to water your small tree.
If you plan on watering your bonsai tree every day, then the easiest way to tell if it needs more water is by simply sticking your finger into the soil. If the soil feels dry down an inch below the surface then it's time to give your bonsai a good drink. Always check in between any large stones or rocks that may surround the root system as this area may take longer to become saturated with water.
Another great technique for knowing when you should water your bonsai tree is by feeling its weight. Take hold of the pot that holds the tree and lift carefully so as not to disturb the delicate roots. Generally speaking, when a pot feels light then that means that it's time to get out the watering can again. You'll quickly develop a feel for judging how much moisture there is in each individual pot so soon enough even just picking up one of your trees will be enough for you to know if it needs watered or not.

Choosing an Appropriate Container

Choosing the right container is an important step in ensuring a healthy bonsai tree. Plastic or ceramic pots with ample drainage holes are best suited for this purpose, as they allow water to drain quickly and help prevent root rot. These materials also hold moisture better than porous terra cotta pots, which may require more frequent watering sessions to keep the soil moist enough for proper growth. Glazed containers such as stoneware or porcelain will reduce evaporation by preventing the wet soil from drying out too quickly.
The size of the pot should be chosen based on the size of your bonsai tree; ideally, it should only be large enough to accommodate its roots without crowding them. If a larger pot is needed due to extensive root development, then you can add extra space around the roots with some clay chips or small stones before filling it up with soil. Shallow trays placed beneath each plant pot can be used to provide additional drainage while protecting furniture from potential water marks that could form over time if left unprotected.
When picking a planter for a bonsai tree, try to go for one that matches both its shape and color. This will create harmony within your landscape design by allowing all elements - including foliage and substrate- to blend together nicely into a unified vision.

Establishing a Consistent Routine

Maintaining a bonsai tree requires discipline and consistency. Properly watering the small evergreen is a crucial part of successful upkeep, so developing an appropriate schedule is key to keeping your plant healthy and looking its best. One way to begin is by using a soil gauge that will indicate when water should be added to ensure that the soil around your tree does not become too dry or too moist. It’s important to take note of factors such as location, pot size, and surrounding climate in order to determine how often you should water your bonsai.
Depending on these various elements, some trees may need up to four cups of water every day while others may only require one cup per week. When calculating how frequently you should pour H2O on your tiny tree, consider investing in a pH kit or irrigation system for more accurate measurements and monitoring. You can also utilize terracotta plates beneath each pot which will help absorb any extra moisture and prevent over-watering from happening altogether.
For indoor trees, misting with cool water is suggested but be sure never to overwater since this could cause root rot and potentially kill your green friend. Instead of haphazardly throwing water at the base every now and then attempt setting a regular time interval for watering instead - like once in the morning and evening for example - which can help establish an effective routine that keeps your little companion looking lush all year round!

Appropriate Fertilizer

Fertilizing is a key element to ensuring your bonsai tree remains healthy. You should only use a fertilizer specifically designed for bonsai trees, as regular plant food can be too potent for the delicate roots and leaves. Look out for fertilizers labeled ‘slow release’ or ‘controlled release’; these contain carefully balanced levels of nitrogen, phosphorus, and potassium to feed the soil gradually over time without burning it. Make sure you don’t use any compound containing urea or ammonium nitrate – their concentrated salts are toxic to bonsai plants and can cause root burn. Avoid fertilizers with high amounts of iron unless the soil pH is below 6 or above 7; if used in an incorrect pH environment, excess iron ions interfere with other elements and could lead to nutrient deficiencies within the plant.
Organic alternatives include manure teas, homemade compost tea recipes and fresh fish emulsion mixed at low concentrations. Organic materials might take longer to show results but usually provide beneficial microorganisms such as bacteria and fungi that further enrich the soil around your bonsai tree. It’s also important to note that organic material breaks down faster than synthetic ones; this means organic fertilizers need to be applied more frequently compared to synthetic ones so always read product instructions before adding them into your watering routine.

Benefits of Distilled Water

Using distilled water to water a bonsai tree has several benefits. Distilled water is free of any impurities, contaminants, and minerals which can build up in the soil over time. This helps maintain a balanced pH level in the soil, ensuring that your bonsai remains healthy and lush. Since it is mineral-free, distilled water will not leave spots or marks on leaves from any residue left behind when evaporating. Its neutral pH balance ensures proper absorption of nutrients needed for plant growth without causing stress or damage to delicate foliage or roots.
Another major benefit of using distilled water for bonsais is that it has no salts present. Hard tap water contains different types of salts which can cause mineral build-up over time and end up being harmful to plants due to salt toxicity. Softened tap waters also contain extra sodium ions which can lead to an accumulation in the roots and eventually weaken them over time. By using completely pure distilled water, this risk is eliminated while also providing adequate hydration for trees throughout their life cycle with no adverse effects on their health or growth rate.
Because it doesn’t contain any chemicals such as chlorine that are often found in tap waters - these chemicals can be damaging to sensitive plants like bonsais - you don’t need to worry about filter systems or removing chlorine from your watering solution before use. With other forms of watering solutions like rainwater collection tanks, filtration would still be required so as not to introduce debris into the system – but using pure distilled water eliminates this step all together and saves valuable time while still providing optimum moisture levels for your plant's development needs.

Adding Fuel to the Fire with Misting Tools

The key to a happy bonsai tree is proper watering, and one way to do this is with misting tools. These are usually smaller versions of normal-sized spraying devices that can easily reach into the tight spaces inside the pot and moisten up all the leaves without overdoing it. While misting tools aren’t necessary for watering a bonsai, they can be very helpful in ensuring you don’t miss any dry spots or dampen an area too much. One good strategy for using these sprayers is to aim for daily spritzes in order to make sure your tree stays hydrated throughout the day.
Another advantage of misting tools is that they can help you apply water quickly and evenly across large areas of foliage instead of taking multiple trips with a jug. This means if your species is prone to wilting quickly on hot days or during periods of drought, you won’t have to wait until afterwards to give it a proper drink - just take out the mister and bring back some life. Even though some people prefer drip systems due to their convenience, misters provide great precision which makes them ideal for potted plants like bonsais where accuracy matters most.

Regularly Monitoring Soil Moisture

Maintaining bonsai trees requires precise and consistent care in order to ensure their growth. One important task is monitoring soil moisture. This can be done through regular inspections of the soil's texture, as it should always remain damp but not waterlogged. Periodically digging into the soil with a finger can provide valuable information regarding the amount of moisture present. Touching leaves during these inspections allows for an even more accurate reading, as they may show signs of wilt or discoloration if too dry or soggy if over-watered.
In addition to periodic visual inspections, measuring humidity in the air around bonsai trees is another key method for monitoring levels of water in the soil. Doing so provides useful data about how often watering needs to occur and in what amounts. A hygrometer can be used to measure relative humidity over time - this instrument detects changes even when an individual isn't paying attention directly to their tree - giving them peace of mind that their bonsai is being properly hydrated according to its individual needs and requirements at all times.
Examining drainage holes beneath the pot is one way growers can tell when it's time to water a bonsai tree again. If water remains visible after several minutes have passed since a recent watering session then chances are that more frequent hydration will need to occur so that none stands still for extended periods of time otherwise root rot could develop over time due to excess dampness underneath the potting medium surface layer.

Benefits of Self-Watering Pots

Using self-watering pots for a bonsai tree offers convenience and cost savings. Self-watering containers are like small, personal reservoirs that provide water as needed to the roots of your beloved tree. This eliminates the necessity of having to remember to water them, especially during hot summer days when it can become very dry quickly.
With these special containers you’ll save money on watering costs because they don’t require nearly as much water as standard pots since they hold moisture in the soil better. You can also buy affordable models which allow you to install it so you can get near continuous watering of the pot without having any extra effort on your part. The reliable hydration ensures that your trees always have enough liquid available and thrive best in their environment.
These smartly designed vessels come in a variety of sizes making them suitable for virtually any type of bonsai; from those that are just starting out or those already established with lots of growth above and below ground. These durable pieces also look great standing alone or grouped together and add an attractive decorative touch anywhere in your home or garden space while ensuring optimal performance for your precious plant life.

The origins of the SCRUNCH gravity mine utilised by the forces of the seventeenth expeditionary fleet lie in an evolution of the common field expedient practice of overcharging and purposefully misaligning a naval vessel’s artificial gravity (AG) generation systems to assist in repelling boarders. The major difference between the two though, other than the obvious portability and self-containment modifications, is the uni-directional cavorite plate surmounted to a baseplate of pre-famulated amulite to protect the battery and mine internals from the device’s own gravimetric forces. Therefore whereas a standard overpowered AG plate will drag a target towards the plate surface at a maximum of up to five or six ‘Gs’ – which is injurious and debilitating but insufficiently lethal for infiltration purposes and often damaging to the plate itself – a SCRUNCH mine draws its unfortunate activator to a point below and beyond the plate, thus enabling an AG plate rated for a maximum 5G output to achieve an effective 20Gs of force without compromising its own integrity.
This kills the target instantly and in complete silence save for the small, distinctive, yet unlikely to be recognised noise the target makes on activating the mine, from which the device gets it’s common name.
Unfortunately, the SCRUNCH mine is not without flaw. The unidirectional nature of the AG plate means that should the mine be improperly placed, or somehow flipped over during the course of combat, the target will instead be launched skyward in a just as lethal but far more noticeable display of force.
Which is exactly what happened to Cadet Genrik. The encroaching Kadavians who laid the trap cringed in anticipation the moment the fool had lifted the mine to inspect it. Their sergeant sent a desperate message to the rest of the operation to prepare to have their cover blown but by the time anyone received the transmission it was too late for meaningful action.
In an instant the hammer blow of gravitic force reduced Genrik to a feathery skin-sock filled with mince-water and sent her shattered corpse ragdolling across the sky. The night watch may have been exhausted, the day shift may have been barely awake, but watching one of your scouts bonelessly bouncy-castle out from under a not insignificant tree-line and arc towards you in a trail of feathers has a miraculous ability to wake one up a little. Genrik’s remains soared limply through the air, narrowly missing a pair of cadets on the wall and plummeted into the compound behind. The pair peered fearfully into the hole in the mists below the corpse had cleared. The shock of Genrik’s final passing had stunned them speechless, one coughing and wheezing to try and croak a warning, the other simply emptying the contents of its crop over the side of the wall.
Both died. Unfortunately the instructor next to them had enough wits to not only duck but put two and two together as more muffled electronic coughs issued out of the prison yard below.
“THE ACTIVISTS ARE ESCAPING!”
----------
The first sign that something had gone wrong was when the humans tensed and started jamming the bags over her people’s heads. Some started to protest only to be cut off by hood-enforced calm and shoved into hut 600. Jlana started to say something but Kaital cut her off.
“Ten seconds!” Kaital had his blaster shouldered and was scanning the walls like he expected a hail of fire at any moment. Jlana wisely decided to take cover by the steps up to the hut, ready to put her bag on the moment the last of them entered. Unfortunately, the last bird had other ideas. Cirric’s pride was incensed and he marched up to Kaital, face like a roiling thunderhead, to chew the other tercel out. He was halfway across the open ground between hut 600 and Kaital’s position, growing more and more puffed with rage with every step and heedless of the fact they were in the middle of a delicate escape attempt, when some sort of mass rocketed over the walls and burst apart like a rotten aubergine just short of where Cirric was standing. Whatever it was it had coated Cirric in a fine layer of blood and thrown the idiot tercel onto his back. Jlana’s heart leapt into her crop and Kaital visibly, though not audibly, cursed.
Both Krakotl rushed towards Cirric’s prone form and two of the humans, the pale, colourful furred one and the one in bulky armour, drew suppressed pistols and started plinking away at the cadets and instructors on the walls. Jlana grabbed her idiot friend’s left wing and Kaital grabbed his self-declared nemesis’ right. Together they dragged Cirric into cover by the hut entrance. From within came hurried whispers of the already inside activists to hurry up. To just send them already.
“Cirric, Cirric are you hurt?” Jlana shook the dazed tercel, who groaned incoherently at the motion. Kaital slapped her wings away, supporting the pink-slimed Cirric on his thigh and scraping away at the mess.
“He’s fine, it’s not his blood. Look.” Kaital pulled something that was disturbingly similar to a beak from a mass of sludge stuck to Cirric’s chest. Magenta-ish paté oozed out of the back of it, but it couldn’t have been that, Jlana told herself, after all the beak was one of the hardest parts of a Krakotl’s body and what Kaital held was crumbling like ancient parchment. “Bag took the hi- aw shit!” Kaital’s exclamation drew Jlana back to the present. The hole that he stuck a feather through was only small, but from his reaction it was a major fucking problem. “Vadym! Got a holed bag here. Fuck.”
Jlana nervously took her bag off from around her neck “What does that mean?”
“It means one of you is here for duration. Bird, can you shoot?” Jlana barely stifled a scream when the stocky human slid into their cover with them as if from nowhere. Cirric tried to sit up but all it took was a firm primary from Kaital to nudge him back down. Jlana visibly pulled herself together. She had gotten through the Central North riots hadn’t she? An actual firefight might actually be safer, she told herself, after all this time she’d actually be able to shoot back.
“Point and pull, right? But…” A cry from atop the walls and the wail of alarms she’d never heard before cut her short.
“No time!” Vadym snatched the bag from Jlana’s wings, jammed it over Cirric’s head and bodily hurled the dazed tercel deep into the hut. A series of ominous creaks and groans emanated from the huts around them loud enough to be heard over the sound of suppressed gunfire. “Translate!” The masked Ukranian screamed into his comm-link, the creaking of pipework transitioning to the hissing spray of IncinerEx fluid. “Translate now!”
There was a crack, a flash, and a blazing roar as blood-magenta flames blew out the barred and reinforced windows of each and every hut. Jlana screamed as much in despair as in fear, Vadym rolling over her and Kaital both to protect them from the fireball and flying glass with his body.
By now what little cover they had was ablaze and it was inevitable that the now wide-awake reinforcements would come at them from all sides. But it didn’t matter. They’d failed. Whatever techno-magic bullshit the humans had planned to pull had come too late to save the last of the people she cared about. She was sure of it.
“Kadavar! Intrusion uplink! All units, go loud!” Vadym roared into his comm-link, loud enough to be heard over the screaming inferno next to them.
---------
Across the base, in one of the many concrete watchtowers, Avaline watched with dispassion the sudden inferno engulfing the prison camp through a green-glass window. A tide of half-prepared exterminators boiled out of their barracks and sentry guns began to swivel in their rooftop cradles; all were hunting for targets. The fog meant that there was little to shoot at, something that the watchtowers were bitching heartily about. Well. Most of them. The former occupants of her tower hung from the ceiling like a brace of maturing pheasants, a gristly ploy to make it seem that the tower was still occupied if a little quiet.
It was only when Vadym’s order came that Avaline became truly alive. A dark, unlovely grin slashed across her face as she pushed the intrusion device deeper into the alien computer’s access port. Toaster Pinocchio was a brazen, over-sexed irritant, but she’d be damned if he wasn’t useful. Avaline sighted her elongated heirloom weapon with ease borne of years of practice using it in confined spaces and picked out her first victim.
“Intruder active.”
----------
“I’m in.” Kaital could taste Djinni’s joy when he heard the words, though he didn’t get what was inevitably a reference when the man exaggerated pushing his visor-shades into the bridge of his nose.
“Aaaand done.” Djinni pushed his visor up onto his forehead, revealing eyes bright with flowing information. “Full control. Security, comms, access, you name it.” Djinni ran a disbelieving hand down his face, pushing the small rebreather he wore to hide his mouth out of the way. “Sweet robot Asimov, Kaital. Have your people not heard of a firewall?”
“No clue. Doubt it.” Kaital curtly called back. He dragged Jlana deeper into what little cover remained while the hail of plasma spattered into the dirt around them and pressed a feather to his headset. “Baseplate this is Epsilon-5, sitrep on evacuee status.”
The cool, even voice of Major Spears crackled to life over his comms. “Epsilon-5 this is Baseplate. Ten successful evacs in second wave. We’re one short.”
“Oh thank the Creator.” He gasped, relief washing the sickly tightness in his stomach away. Jlana opened a teary eye and looked up at him with heartbreaking hope. “Her bag got holed. Final rescue is coming with us.”
There was a pause, then Spears came back on. “Understood Epsilon-5. Maintain comms discipline.”
“Acknowledged.” A smile began to crack Kaital’s beak. “Epsilon-5 out.”
He laughed. Long and loud and with more than a hint of relived mania to it. “Jlana, they’re safe! They ma-”
“KAITAL!” Jlana screamed in fear at something approaching from behind their cover. The tercel rolled over, trying to bring his blaster to bear as the silhouetted outline of an exterminator in a heavy firesuit loomed out of the smoke and fog. It was moving deliberately slowly. It had to be. The figure raised its blaster just seconds before Kaital managed to get his own aimed on.
But the killing blast never came. Instead the exterminator’s innards were turned to outtards, the horrible metallic ‘shglorp’ ringing out a millisecond later.
“Eyes up val Hisui!” Crackled Avaline over the comms. “This is combat, distraction will get you killed.”
“Aye ma’am!” Any other time Kaital would have cringed at his inadvertent regression to his navy squab upbringing. Instead, for the first time in his life, it felt appropriate.
“Khalaz, you’ve got at least fifty hostiles inbound to your rear. You’re about to be boxed in.”
A beefy snort came through the radio, bracketed by grunts of effort. “On my signal, primary weapons free.”
Before Kaital could even wonder what that signal would be from deep in the remains of the prison camp came a deep and carrying roar. It was a whooping, bugling, howling, braying cacophony that chilled hearts and slackened bowels. It was a miracle that Jlana didn’t soil herself and from the way the outlines in the smoke started to move the cadets hadn’t been so brave. Some dived for cover alongside their instructors, some froze in primal terror and a few broke and tried to make a run for it. Those that stayed in the open didn’t stay there for long.
Kaital opened fire in their general direction, driving the semi-organised mob behind walls and into divots with a wide arc of bolts so thick it was as if he was spraying them with a hosepipe. Behind him the sound of suppressed pistol fire was replaced with the roar of Vadym’s monstrous scattergun, the chatter of Djinni’s carbine, and the deafening ululating electronic shriek of Aiden’s machine gun. Where the pistol fire had been mitigated by the exterminators’ heavier armours, taking two to three shots before reliably putting a target down, the full-calibre automatic fire scythed straight through the toughest ceramic plating and whatever the hell Vadym had loaded his shotgun with turned whole knots of exterminators into screaming masses on the floor at range or just straight up converted a single unfortunate to a cloud of meat-flecked pillow stuffing should they get too close. And amongst it all officers would suddenly invert and the smoke and fog of battle would light up from within as Avaline turned flamethrower troopers into screaming infernos.
It wasn’t enough. Kaital’s blaster couldn’t pierce even medium armour without focused fire to drill through the heat-resistant material. For all their power and skill-at-arms, three humans, one sniper, and an angry thingamajig was not nearly enough to even fight their way clear of nearly four hundred exterminators.
This wasn’t the vids. This wasn’t a simulation. The only reason they were still alive was because Djinni had turned off the automated defences. A dying exterminator flung its sidearm into the dirt next to Kaital as it flailed around trying futilely to extinguish the flames that were slowly cooking it inside its firesuit. He kicked it over to Jlana and was pleased to see her pick it up and begin to plink back at their attackers. Hesitantly at first, but then with growing vigour and enthusiasm. It felt good, Kaital decided, to watch your oppressors finally start to die screaming. To know that they popped and sizzled just as much as anyone else. Savage pride flared bright in Kaital’s breast as another cadet collapsed into a smoking heap before him.
He barely realised that he had started to sing. It was a grinding dirge, an ancient war-chant learned at his grandfather’s knee as the shaman-elder wove myths of epic primordial battles and of the hillfolk tribes’ eventual defeat when their prowess and spirit forced the tendrils of malevolent star-gods to come to their mountainous minions’ direct aid.
Paradoxically, the song distracted him enough to focus. His fury had held him and Jlana to their original position when they should have been holding closer to the rest of his team. Kaital coolly radioed that he was coming back into formation and the rest of the squad moved to cover them as he shoved Jlana along in front of him, keeping himself between her and the most likely direction of incoming plasma.
“You two okay?” Aiden asked as the pair slid into the cover of a ruined hut beside him.
“Never better.”
“I’m good, I’m good.”
Jlana’s self-reassuring response was common amongst irregulars tasting real, open combat for the first time. Kaital’s was more worrying. It wasn’t a smile that crossed his beak, more of a satisfied grimace as the krakotl continued to belt out an alien hymn at top volume while spraying bolts at anything that looked like a target.
A particularly bold cadet was caught short when the wind shifted and left her exposed in the open. Her armour was enough to keep the resulting green hail from turning her to swiss cheese. Unfortunately the standard exterminator helmet left the beak exposed, resulting in her rolling in agony when a bolt neatly pared it back.
Kaital didn’t complain when Aiden turned and finished the poor bird on the ground, but the look in his eye betrayed his irritation. Something that both Aiden and Jlana noted in their own ways. Instead he turned his fire and ire on the remaining exterminators who were now so densely packed it was genuinely hard to miss them.
“Looks like we’ve started quite the party. Kaital, this most of them?” Djinni quipped from the extreme corner of Kaital’s vision.
“Feels like it.” He called back, flinching as another flamethrower tank detonated in the fog.
“Khalaz has another group tied up by the gate. The Kadavians are at the walls.” Vadym cried over the comms. “Brace for breaching!”
Aiden dropped his gun to let it hang by its harness and pulled both Jlana and Kaital down into what little stubs of scorched cover remained by their scruffs.
-----------
Atop the walls more and more exterminators fired blindly down into the smoke and fog shrouded mess that was the remains of the prison camp. It was inevitable that there would be some friendly fire in such a clusterfuck of a cross-fire, but that was why only cadets had been sent in to hold the enemy in place. The officers and instructors purposely held back and let their charges blaze away into the swirling smog. If a few died then so be it, the thought that they might’ve wasted a fellow cadet would hopefully get some of the piss and vinegar out of the survivors.
They were all so distracted by the chaos within their walls that they failed to notice the approaching chaos without. The first sign that anything was wrong was when an entire section of wall was soaked by streams of clearish, sticky gel that arced up and over from the other side. The torrent of blaster fire from the walls all but stopped in confusion, cadets and instructors alike pausing to wipe off the substance that only seemed to work itself deeper into their feathers.
Then confusion turned to panic.
While the gel seemed to be mostly harmless at first the chemical stench of dissolving clothes and melting feathers soon filled the air alongside screams of pain as corrosive motes burned their way through armour to meet tender flesh beneath. It was a terrifying way to die; lightly armoured cadets flailed wildly and tore at their feathers to try and slow the substance’s progress with many falling from the walls in the process and their better equipped superiors desperately tried to strip out of their suits before whatever they’d been doused with ate its way through.
Those that did so realised their mistake the instant the scent of petrochemicals burned their nostrils. It was fuel. They’d been doused in fuel and all it needed was something to light it. Few were quick enough to appreciate the irony before gouts of flame arced up from below and turned the battlements into a fireball.
-----------------------
[Prev]

Baymax

"Hello, I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion"

Baymax is a healthcare robot created by Tadashi Hamada, a student at the San Fransokyo Institute of Technology. After Tadashi’s death, Baymax took Hiro, Tadashi’s younger brother, as his primary patient. When Hiro decided to build gear to become a superhero and bring the man who caused Tadashi’s death to justice, Baymax joined him, along with Tadashi’s former classmates, to become Big Hero 6, San Fransokyo’s premier superhero team.
According to side material, Baymax is 6’ 2" normally and 6’ 5" in the armor, though he sometimes seems to be larger than that.
Hover over the feat for the source. This is the list I’m using for the episodes.

Physicals

Strength

Striking

• Matches blows with Yokai’s microbots, sending the car he’s in skidding back
  • Yokai’s microbots can throw a car down a street and throw a giant chunk of concrete
• Staggers the giant Kentucky Kaiju animatronic
• Splatters Nega-Globby
• Crumples a speeding car
• Shatters a falling piece of concrete
• Breaks through concrete pillars
• Smashes Yokai’s microbot tendrils
  • Again
• Kicks a Noodle Burger Boy copy into the wall hard enough to make a crater and knock down a billboard
• Punches a Buddy Guard, a military-grade security drone, into a wall hard enough to destroy it
• An unarmored copy of Baymax smashes concrete with a punch
• Shatters a warehouse door with a kick
• Breaks boards and a table with strikes
• Unarmored, hits a tennis ball through afence

Lifting/Throwing

• Rips a hatch off of a giant animatronic and throws it out of sight
• Stops a shipping container from falling on his teammates
• Catches a falling shipping container
• An unarmored copy of Baymax flings a car through the air
• Catches the hammer of Baron Von Steamer’s spider mech and throws it back a bit
• Catches a falling turbine
• Catches Mega Yama as it’s falling, breaking the floor beneath him
• Rips a bolted-down statue out of the ground and flies off with it
  • Could lift the same statue unarmored, though the bolts were removed beforehand
• Catches a falling concrete pillar
• Can lift 1000 lbs
• Unarmored, easily lifts a couch with three people on it
• Easily lifts a tray Cass struggles to budge

Pushing/Pulling

• Stops a train being powered by an energy amplifier that makes machines powered by electricity overclock until they break
• Stops a giant chunk of concrete from crushing his teammates
• Stops a runaway cable car
  • Again
• Bends open the lid of an armored crate underwater
• Stops and breaks traps about to crush Hiro
• Bends train tracks

Rocket Fist

• Shatters a giant chunk of concrete
• Knocks several shipping containers into the air
• Punches himself back into a car hard enough to flatten it
• Puts a large hole in the front of a warehouse
• Destroys a statue and puts a hole in the wall behind it
• Punches through the tooth of the giant Kentucky Kaiju animatronic and embeds in a billboard
• Punches through a shipping container underwater
• Makes a crater in a metal wall
• Blasts through a pile of microbots
• Pushes a large pod a fair distance through a portal
• Destroys a Buddy Guard
• While malfunctioning, breaks a streetlamp in half
• Knocks over a stack of crates
• After being redirected by Globby, causes a large explosion
• Supersonic Sue uses it to bust through a prison wall

Clashing

• Clashes with Nega-Globby
  • Nega-Globby can smash and launch cars and launched Fred a far distance away
• Clashes with Mega Yama
  • Mega Yama could float through a concrete wall

Other

• Go Go, Wasabi, and Fred fail to hold him back while he is uninhibited and attempting to kill Yokai
• A newspaper in the credits shows him stopping a runaway cable car
• Breaks off a vault door and throws
• Catches a thrown I-beam
• Flexes out of the ice encasing him
• His wings cut through metal cables
• Grips onto the wings of Greg’s jet engine hard enough for it to tear itself apart

Durability

Blunt

• Takes his own rocket fist to the chest and is ok
• Fine after stopping a giant chunk of concrete thrown by Yokai from crushing his teammates
• Gets sent flying by Yokai’s microbots
  • Yokai’s microbots can throw a car down a street and throw a giant chunk of concrete
  • Takes another hit from Yokai’s microbots
  • Again
• While unarmored, gets tackled by Orso Knox and is fine
  • Knox can overpower Baymax, pushing him back in a clash and toss aside cars, however, Knox was not trying to hurt anyone in this episode
• Ok after getting launched high into the air and landing on an iceberg
• Ok after getting sent flying by Nega-Globby
• Gets swung into concrete and a stage by Yokai’s microbots
• Gets tail-slammed by the giant Kentucky Kaiju animatronic
• Gets shoved through several pillars by Obake’s robot and has the ceiling collapse on him and sustains only minimal damage
• Takes several blows from Supersonic Sue
• Gets embedded in stone by Baron Von Steamer’s spider mech
• Gets hit by Globby swinging Go Go
• Gets checked by Jaq
  • Jaq lifts two tires to work out
• Gets knocked back by microbots
  • Again
• Ok after crashing to the ground hard enough to tear up the sidewalk
• Gets swung into a glass wall hard enough to leave a crater by Noodle Burger Boy’s mech
  • Gets punched into another glass wall hard enough to leave a crater
• Tanks several blows to the face from a Noodle Burger Boy copy
• While unarmored, tanks blows from El Fuego
• Slamming into a large piece of rubble hard enough to shatter it breaks his armor, but he is still functioning

Heat/Energy

• Gets hit by Greg’s energy bazooka and is fine
  • Greg’s bazooka spun a yacht with an indirect hit
• Fine after taking two shots from Mega Yama’s plasma blaster and crashing through a wall
  • Mega Yama’s plasma blaster made a large hole in a reinforced concrete wall
• Gets hit by Noodle Burger Boy’s lasers
  • Again
  • Once more
• Gets blasted by Mechadama
  • Mechadama launches a box truck with a blast
• Gets blasted by Buddy Guards, though they break his armor
  • The Buddy Guards destroy desks and computers with their blasts
• A copy of Baymax no-sells Fred’s fire

Electricity

• Baymax has a notable weakness to electricity:
  • Baymax’s endoskeleton gets taken down by Yama’s thug’s stun rod
  • Malfunctions after getting blasted by High Voltage
• Despite this, there are times Baymax has resisted electricity:
  • Seems to be unaffected by electricity that floored the rest of his teammates

Other

• A news report calls copies of Baymax indestructible and are too much for the police to handle
• Unaffected by a swarm of bees

Speed/Agility

Reaction/Dodging

• Dodges blasts from Buddy Guards
  • Dodges blasts from invisible Buddy Guards
• Saves Go Go from High Voltage’s electricity, then dodges more
  • Dodges High Voltage’s electricity underwater
  • Dodges High Voltage’s electricity ball
• Dodges a Noodle Burger Boy copy’s lasers
  • Dodges more
• Dodges a plasma blast from Mega Yama
• Dodges a blast from Hardlight
  • Dodges more attacks
• Dodges a blast from Noodle Burger Boy’s mech
• Dodges sword swings from Momakase
• Avoids getting grabbed by Noodle Burger Boy’s mech
• Dodges Yokai’s microbots
  • Again
  • Once more
• Dodges Baron Von Steamer’s heat ray
• Dodges the Kentucky Kaiju animatronic’s fire breath
• Dodges out of the way of Supersonic Sue and Baron Von Steamer after being knocked over by Sue’s electric wave
• Dodges a charge from Orso Knox

Movement

• Catches Juniper after she launches herself across a bank at high speed
• Catches Baron Von Steamer’s spider mech hammer mid-swing

Agility

• Outside of combat, Baymax is notably stiff and slow

Flight

• Catches and surpasses a train being pushed over its limits by an energy amplifier
• Flies at high speeds through San Fransokyo, easily navigating through obstacles
• Flies at high speeds through a portal realm, avoiding debris
• Easily catches Greg’s jet engine, despite his head start
• Catches a runaway cable car
• Catches Wasabi before he can fall into molten iron

Skill/Misc

Accuracy

• Takes down all three Mad Jacks with a single rocket fist
• Uses rocket fist on a seat to knock a robot into the air
• Destroys a drone with a rocket fist while stuck

Misc

• Lies to protect Hiro

Ultra Armor

General

• The Ultra Armor is armor made by Hiro that is a titanium-enhanced version of the Super Armor, giving Big Hero 6 greater durability

Strength

Striking

• Punches a Buddy Guardian encased in a chem ball into others hard enough to knock them over
• Knocks back Mega Yama with a clothesline
• Punches away a rocket-powered magnet strong enough to embed in concrete

Lifting/Throwing

• Throws a monstrous Mayoi high into the air
• Catches a falling helicopter
• Throws a log, destroying several Buddy Guards
• Easily lifts an I-beam

Rocket Fist

• Punches Orso Knox through several wooden beams
  • Knox was barely moved by Fred jumping on his face
• Uses both rocket fists to punch Mega Yama into a prison wall hard enough to crater it
• Destroys several Buddy Guards with the initial strike and one on the return

Clashing

• Clashes with Bessie
  • Bessie can crumple a bank vault door, break a boulder in half and bust through several bank walls

Durability

Blunt

• Gets thrown by Bessie
  • Again
  • Gets punched and thrown
• Takes his own rocket fist unharmed
• Gets tackled by a monstrous Mayoi
  • Mayoi in their non-monstrous form can toss cars with their feet
• Gets slammed into a wall by a Buddy Guardian
  • Takes another hit
• Gets hit by Fred getting launched by Nega-Globby in Globby’s body
• Takes blows from Supersonic Sue
• Gets kicked and slammed by Mega Yama and is fine
• Tanks blows from El Fuego
• Gets punched by Trina, knocking him back into Hiro hard enough to make a crater in the concrete wall
• Takes a swing kick from Noodle Burger Boy
• Ok after the roof of a warehouse collapses on him

Other

• Defends his teammates from a giant explosion
• Gets blasted by Trina channeling electricity from the city’s turbines
• No sells multiple ping pong balls from Nega-Globby controlling Globby, who can hit them hard enough to leave a crater in metal

Speed/Agility

• Dodges Bessie’s electromagnetic beam
• Dodges lasers from Noodle Burger Boy
• Dodges a barrage of blasts from a group of Buddy Guards
• Dodges and catches the training room emulating Supersonic Stu
• Dodges El Fuego’s fireballs

Gadgets

Scanner

General

Medical Usage

• Identifies that Hiro has an epidermal abrasion
• Identifies Hiro’s allergies
• Scans Hiro’s hormone and neurotransmitter levels
• Scans Yokai’s blood type and cholesterol levels
• Determines that two women are an exact genetic match
• Scans a man’s DNA to determine that he is not Alister Krei
• Identifies Callaghan’s daughter as still alive in the portal realm
• Scans Obake’s brain damage
• Determines that a pathogen will soon reach a contagion level of 10
• Determines that "mysteryloaf" is safe for consumption
• Identifies how healed a woman’s rhinoplasty is
• Identifies that a boy is overproducing earwax
• Identifies a fracture in Hiro’s leg that a doctor did not
• Scans the microbes in a ball pit
• Takes a DNA sample from a monster’s saliva and cross-checks it against every known species to determine what it is

Identifying

• Scans Globby to determine what he is made of and how he controls his body
• Scans a cable car to determine what caused it to go out-of-control
• Scans a present to determine what is inside
• Identifies that Hiro is feeling guilty
• Scans a glass of water to determine the percentage it is filled
• Identifies a dung beetle
• Maps Orso Knox’s iris onto a monster to determine that it is him
• Matches a woman’s facial structure to a database to determine who she is
• Scans a skyscraper to determine if there is any ongoing construction
• Scans a piece of cheese to determine what it is
• Scans a Mayoi to determine that it is a plant-mammal hybrid

Locating

• Scans the city for the heat signature of graphene
• Attempts to scan for a man using biometric data from his picture, but is interrupted
• Locates Sirque miles away
• Scans a building to locate a device
• Tracks the RFID chip in Honey Lemon’s school ID card
• Scans the Lucky Cat Cafe and determines Cass isn’t there
• Scans a room for a specific device

Range

• Scans all of San Fransokyo for a match to Yokai
• Scans the city to locate Fred
• Locates Mochi on the bridge from the middle of the city
• Scans for Yama, locating him a far distance away
• Detects a disturbance 9 blocks away

Medical Tools

• Has defibrillators in his hands
• Uses an anti-bacterial spray on Hiro
• Has a heater in his body
• Has nasal spray in his hands
• Has ammonium chloride cold packs in his skin

Knowledge Database

• Is programmed with over 10,000 medical procedures
• Downloads information from the internet about personal loss treatment
• Hiro gave him a chip that contained karate techniques
• Hiro gave him a chip that contained superhero knowledge
• Hiro gave him a chip that contained dance knowledge
• Has knowledge about Muirahara Woods National Park

Misc Functions

• Tracks a heat signature
• Acts as a flotation device for his teammates
• Prevents Hiro from opening his chip slots
• Plays back video he recorded
  • Displays an image of a badge on his chest
• Keeps a record of how many times Fred has said "secret headquarters"
• Can tell when someone is lying
• Vibrates his arms to perform Shiatsu
• Has flashlights in his hands
• Sprays water out of his finger
• Acts as a trampoline
• Has a fire extinguisher in his hand
• Has a laser cutter in his hand
• Can adjust his volume, making himself loud enough to shake Hiro’s house
• Has multiple language settings
• Hiro builds him an underwater suit
  • Has a sonic blaster

Overdrive Mode

General

• Baymax can enter a powered-up state called Overdrive Mode, though using it quickly drains his battery
• Baymax can call a jetpack to him that boosts his flight speed and acts as an reserve battery, allowing him to stay in Overdrive Mode for longer
  • Seems to make a sonic boom

Sword

• Using his underwater suit, destroys the giant container of Baron Von Steamer’s mech
• Destroys part of a cage made with special bars and part of the wall outside it, kicking up a massive dust cloud and damaging the floor
  • Wasabi’s plasma blades can’t cut the bars
• Cuts several Buddy Guardians in half
  • Wasabi’s plasma blades barely scratch them
• Hits mutated Momakase, sending her flying through the air and kicking up a lot of dust
• Cuts through the legs of Baron Von Steamer’s spider mech

Physicals

• [Strength] Launches a bunch of cars on a bridge through the air with the air pressure of him rushing forward
• [Strength] Punches down a door that withstood his rocket fist
• [Strength] Throws off the Buddy Guardians that were holding him down
• [Strength] Clashes with Momakase, knocking the sword out of her hands
• [Durability/Strength] No sells an attack from Supersonic Sue, then blocks a strike from Baron Von Steamer’s spider mech with his arm
• [Durability] Takes multiple graphene claw slashes from mutated Momakase without harm
• [Speed] Blitzes mutated Momakase
• [Speed] Flights high into the air very fast
• [Misc] After his leg is cut off, going into overdrive mode replaces it

"I cannot deactivate until you say you are satisfied with your care"