#open access article - it is horrifying

[decolonize-the-everything]

I love your blog and I respect you a lot so please if it possible i want to ask you something. No one seems to care much for the fate of the egyptian protesters who were imprisoned yesterday and many of them were elderly. Egyptians prisons are a living nightmare where even medicine is denied and they live in crowded cells infested with mosquitos. Please we need to do somethimg this is horrifying they may die from lack of medical care and torture when all they did was protest for aid to enter Gaza.

Hi!

I can't find a method of how to help or where to direct people to donate! I assume it's because it's written in another language? I can't even see the page for the Egyptian Organization for Human Rights.

That said, here are some articles I found regarding all this so I can at least help spread some awareness.

Activists shared videos of one of the protesters chanting against business tycoon and government ally Ibrahim al-Organi, whose companies have been charging Palestinians thousands of dollars to exit Gaza.

The government of President Abdel Fattah el-Sisi has been criticised for failing to challenge Israel's siege on Gaza during the current conflict, and for allowing state-linked companies to profit from the movement of people and aid via the Rafah crossing. The Rafah crossing in northeast Egypt is the only gateway for Gaza that is not directly controlled by Israel. But since 7 October it has opened only intermittently. Egypt blames Israel for the closure of the crossing, as Israel has imposed strict checks on all trucks entering Gaza via Rafah.

Following the protest, 10 activists were arrested at their homes and detained for 15 days on charges of spreading false information and joining a terrorist group, often a reference to the banned Muslim Brotherhood. Egypt declared the Brotherhood a terrorist organization in 2013, following the removal of President Mohammed Morsi from power. Since then, the government has cracked down on political dissent and banned protests, leading to the arrest of critics and activists who speak out against government policies.

During that trip, towards the prison near the Egyptian-Libyan border, detainees were scared and tired. Some of them had to urinate inside the car, using plastic bottles they had, after they were denied access to bathrooms.

He told MEMO: “One of us had diarrhoea and had to use the bathroom. We surrounded him with a curtain made up of our clothes so he wouldn’t get exposed. He had to defecate in the car, cleaned himself with some water he had and collected the faeces in a plastic bag. He was in so much pain: the pain in his stomach and the pain of injustice and oppression.”

About an hour after sunset, the deportation car arrived, carrying ten detainees of different ages. They took sips of water and ate some dates, before beginning a second journey into one of the country’s most infamous prisons. Officials in this prison, named Al-Manfa, or the exile, are known to “honour” new detainees by torturing, abusing, beating and insulting them upon their arrival. The prison has 216 cells and the abuse is often directed at opponents of Al-Sisi.

And of course, if anyone knows more direct ways of helping such as where to donate or about calls to action or solidarity requests being made by those in Egypt then I think anon and I would really appreciate it!!

[twopoppies]

Would you have a rolling stone subscription or any of your followers please? https://www.rollingstone.com/tv-movies/tv-movie-features/american-idol-lgbtq-contestants-1235027350/

It doesn't seem to be behind any sort of paywall for me, but I tend tp be cautious when reposting entire articles because blogs have been taken down for it before. Here's most of the worst of it, though. DM me if you want more and can't access it.

Travis wasn’t aware that he couldn’t carry a tune until his audition aired on TV a year later, in January 2006. Seated in the living room of the same halfway-house counselor who had driven him to the audition, he thought to himself, “God, I do suck.” But the realization was too late. His phone was already being blitzed with calls, first check-ins from friends and family members and then requests for interviews with People and Us Weekly. Soon after, Travis says the LGBTQ+ advocacy group GLAAD (which did not respond to a request for comment on this story) telephoned with the offer of taking action against Idol on his behalf. He thought to himself, “What the fuck did I just do?”

The public reaction to Travis’ off-key rendition of Whitney Houston’s 1993 single “Queen of the Night” is perhaps most succinctly summed up by the title of a YouTube video of the tryout: “American Idol Audition Boy or Girl.” Travis wore bell-bottom jeans in a feminine cut and a white tank top to his audition, pulling his wavy blonde hair behind his ears. Simon Cowell, infamously the harshest critic among the show’s original trio of judges, appeared horrified by the sight of Travis, his mouth agape. After Randy Jackson, the panel’s swing vote, kicked things off by asking the contestant to say “something interesting” about himself, Cowell asked, “That’s necessary, is it?” Cowell proceeded to stop Travis in the middle of his performance, which he called “confused.”

Travis has come a long way since Idol. After pivoting to a successful career in gay porn under the name Kirk Cummings, he retired from the adult entertainment industry and now works as a dog groomer, a profession he finds peaceful. But even 19 years later, he finds the footage of his audition tough to watch. As he left the studio in tears, editors added the theme music to The Crying Game, the 1992 film that uses the sight of a trans woman’s body to shock viewers. Today, Travis presents as male and uses masculine pronouns, but at the time of his audition, he had hoped to someday transition. He even had his new name picked out: Kelly. When he was incarcerated, others would try to dissuade him from pursuing a future as a trans person by telling him that it’s a “really hard life,” and Idol seemed to prove them all right. 

“I thought, ‘Wow, if this is how my life’s going to be, then I don’t want any part of it,’” he says. “My experience is not the normal experience of a trans person, but because I had chosen to be on a television show, I saw the worst of it.”

Open cruelty is no longer part of the Idol brand, now that the show is in its second run on ABC after Fox canceled the long-running program in 2015. The series, like much of contemporary reality TV, now trades on positivity, and the annual tradition of airing bad auditions has long been discontinued. But during the height of its popularity in the 2000s, schadenfreude was a major part of the show’s appeal. While launching the careers of instant household names like Kelly Clarkson and Carrie Underwood, Idol was also the show where tens of millions of viewers watched Cowell tell Season Three contestant Heather Piccinini that she’s “ugly” when she sings and belittle Season Five’s Crystal Parizanski for overtanning; he even pulled Parizanski’s mother into the room to humiliate the contestant further. The show’s June 2002 premiere, in which Cowell advised a young woman to sue her vocal coach, made it clear what Idol would be selling.

That feed-them-to-the-lions approach made Idol the number-one program on TV six years running, the longest stretch at the top in broadcast history — but the show tended to prey on its most vulnerable contestants, perhaps unwittingly. Idol producers were forced to issue an apology after Cowell compared Season Six hopeful Kenneth Briggs, who has facial malformations due to Aarskog Syndrome, to a “bush baby.” Season Five’s Paula Goodspeed took her own life outside judge Paula Abdul’s home in 2008 after Cowell criticized the contestant’s metal braces following a performance of the Creedence Clearwater Revival/Ike and Tina Turner standard “Proud Mary.” Goodspeed was reportedly an obsessive stalker who changed her given name in tribute to Abdul, and the contest judge publicly criticized Idol’s producers for not doing more to protect her, saying she alerted them to Goodspeed’s behavior prior to the audition. (A spokesperson for the show did not comment on Abdul’s accusation at the time.)

Among those most targeted by Idol’s alleged abuses were anyone who was outside of the norm, as defined by the extremely narrow standards of Bush-era popular culture. This often included contestants who were experiencing mental health issues, individuals with disabilities, people of color, and plus-size singers like the late Mandisa Huntley, the Season Five contestant of whom Cowell infamously asked: “Do we have a bigger stage this year?” But Idol enjoyed a particularly contentious relationship with the queer contestants who hoped that the series would offer their big break into an unforgiving industry, many of whom had only started to come to an understanding of their LGBTQ+ identities. In another exchange condemned by GLAAD, Cowell told Travis’ fellow Season Five hopeful Charles Berry, who now is an out gay man, to shave off his beard and “wear a dress,” saying that he would make a “great female impersonator.”

Keith Beukelaer, whom Cowell famously called “the worst singer in the world,” knew immediately after his Season Two audition that it would end up being broadcast. “It’s something that I don’t know if I ever fully recovered from,” he says. “I remember it as if it was yesterday.” A devoted Madonna fan, he performed “Like a Virgin” in a green mock-turtleneck sweater, gyrating his body in sync with the song’s suggestive lyrics. Beukelaer has come to understand himself as having Asperger’s Syndrome, although he didn’t have the language for it at the time, and he came out as gay a few years after appearing on the program. He still struggles with the notoriety that his brief appearance on Idol brought, the decades of mockery that followed six minutes of air time.

Cowell did not return multiple requests for comment for this story. Neither did Jackson, longtime host Ryan Seacrest, or Idol creator Simon Fuller — who based the show off his own U.K. series Pop Idol, which aired from 2001 to 2003. But a source close to the production, who requested not to be named in this story, defended the show by affirming that “every single person who came on Idol, whatever their race, color, creed, or sexual preferences, was placed squarely in the firing line for Simon’s barbed critiques.”

[...]

What was a queer paradise for some, however, was a nightmare for others. Of those who spoke on the record, many say that Idol effectively forced them into the closet, and they believe it’s because the show was fearful that an openly queer contestant would alienate the show’s largely conservative viewership.

[...]

There was no rule saying that queer contestants couldn’t discuss their personal lives, but some singers say that Idol made it clear that some things were best kept secret. R.J. Helton, who uses they/them pronouns, went back into the closet and started dating a woman before they auditioned for Idol’s first season, hoping to make their family happy. Helton’s parents always envisioned that they would become a pastor or a Christian music artist, and when Helton’s boy band, the Soul Focus, went their separate ways, competing on Idol felt like a logical next step. Having recently broken things off with their fiancée, not wanting to live a lie, Helton began seeing their Idol stand-in during the season. Although they kept the romance a secret from producers, Helton says the other contestants knew. “None of them cared,” they say. “It was the first time that I felt accepted by a group of people.”

Idol producers never found out about the relationship, but the stakes were nonetheless made clear when executive producer Nigel Lythgoe, the show’s most influential creative voice, pulled Helton aside after seeing them exchange a friendly peck on the cheek with a male member of the crew. “Listen, we love you,” Helton says the producer told them. “We think you’re great, but let’s continue on the sweet side, with the Christian boy thing.” In their on-camera interviews and stage performances, Helton says they tried to tone down their natural ebullience, “butching it up” and staying as quiet as possible. A team of publicists, they recall, followed Helton everywhere “because they didn’t want me to break character.” 

In an email to Rolling Stone, Lythgoe asserts that he “never stopped any contestant from coming out” and says he “never would have done so.” “I did work with a number of individuals who, sadly, were struggling with issues around coming out, and I provided feedback that was very common at the time: that they should let their talent do the talking and not allow others to denigrate them based on their personal lives,” he says. “If anyone was hurt by my advice on those issues, I can only apologize, but I only ever wanted to help and support the wonderful young people who competed on the first seasons of Idol, several of whom, tragically, were torn between a desire to live their truth openly and a great fear about how they would be treated on returning home by their families, by their communities, and even by God.”

Helton, now with the clarity of hindsight, wishes they’d had the confidence to present their full self to America. After being dropped from their record label following a 2006 interview in which they came out as gay, Helton recently came to the realization of their nonbinary identity. “I know it was a different generation, but there are parts of me that think: ‘If I could have worn a gorgeous evening gown with a full beard, I could have won,’” Helton says. When producers would tap them on the shoulder to remind them, “Hey, we don’t talk about this,” it made Helton scared of losing the only affirmation they’d ever had. “As a young person, that really plays with your psyche, especially when you’re not used to the spotlight, loads of fans, or the money. You just do what you’re told. I don’t know if that’s selling your soul to the devil, but it did feel like that. They lifted me up, put me on a pedestal, and told me that the pedestal will only be there as long as I play this part.”

Helton’s fellow Season One cast member Jim Verraros has spent years in therapy working to unlearn many of the unfortunate lessons he says Idol taught him, namely that it wasn’t OK to be himself. That education began with the Pygmalion-esque makeover given to the show’s aspiring superstars: Idol immediately traded in his nerdy aesthetic — wiry glasses and jean jackets with the collar popped — for a generic rock look, sleeveless vests with leather cuff bracelets. He got contacts, lowered his voice half an octave, and put away what he calls the “theatrical and stage part of me that comes also from having deaf parents and being expressive.” “It comes at a cost,” he says. “When you’re told that you aren’t enough — or that this version of you doesn’t work — you spend a big part of your life taking parts away from you so that you can achieve those dreams.”

Although Verraros made the Top 10 of his season, he struggled with the role created for him, and the miscasting of a nebbishy gay Midwestern boy as a conservative-friendly heartthrob led to friction with the show’s creative team. Former co-host Brian Dunkleman, who emceed Idol’s first season alongside Ryan Seacrest, says he overheard Cowell and Randy Jackson discussing plans to directly target Verraros, hoping to get a strong reaction out of him that they could film. “We’re gonna nail Jim,” he recalls the judges saying as they were having coffee in an Idol break room. Cowell tended to reserve his harshest critiques of the show’s inaugural cast for Verraros, and following that discussion, he told the contestant live on air, “I think if you win this competition, we would have failed.”

Idol did get the emotional reaction it sought from Verraros in a scene that ultimately landed on the cutting-room floor. Prior to the announcement of the season’s Top 10 finalists, Dunkleman says that Cowell informed the contestants they would be using the “judges’ veto” to oust one of them from the show. “Jim, you’re out of the competition,” Cowell told Verraros, prompting the young singer to burst into tears. (That’s when Dunkleman recalls that Lythgoe came over and instructed everyone to sing a modified version of the Monkees’ “Daydream Believer” to brighten Verraros’ spirits. “Cheer up, sleepy Jim,” fellow contestants sang together in unison.) For reasons that are unclear, Lythgoe opted to backtrack on the judges’ decision, Dunkleman says, allowing Verraros to move forward to the next round after all. “Later that night, I was at dinner and I got a pretty frantic message from Nigel saying, ‘Look, there’s been a change. Jim is back in the competition. Just please don’t tell anybody about anything that happened today,’” Dunkleman remembers. “And then the next night he made the Top 10.”

Those incidents, Dunkleman adds, played a major role in his decision to part ways with Idol, calling the program “evil.” He also recalls that a judging panel needed to be refilmed so Cowell could call Helton a “loser” instead of a “monkey.” “That’s what it was,” he says of Idol. “It was about how mean they were. It was about how shocking this was and how much they were making fun of these singers.” He isn’t sure, though, why the show singled Helton and Verraros out in particular. “Is it conscious targeting or is it subconscious? That kind of undertone, maybe they weren’t even aware of it.”

[...]

AMERICAN IDOL often strained to fit queer contestants into an instantly recognizable mold that producers could market for the widest possible audience. Simon Cowell declared that he would quit the program if Sanjaya Malakar, an affable Season Six hopeful with a perpetual smile, won the competition. Malakar, who is half Bengali and performed with the Hawaii Children’s Theater during his time living in Kauai, was unlike any singer the show had ever seen. He was earnest and goofy, striding up to the judges’ table to dance with Paula Abdul during a performance of Irving Berlin’s “Cheek to Cheek.” He also straddled the lines of gender, flat-ironing his chameleonic locks for a winsome cover of John Mayer’s “Waiting on the World To Change.” After weeks of all but begging viewers to vote Malakar off the show, Cowell commented regarding the latter song: “Maybe it’s your hair that’s keeping you in. I don’t know.”

Malakar came out as bisexual many years after Idol was over, finding himself after taking a job at a karaoke bar in New York where he found freedom in anonymity. What was hardest for Malakar to navigate, he says, was not the constant scrutiny from Idol’s judges but the vitriolic reaction from fans. A MySpace blogger vowed to stop eating until Malakar was sent home, although the contestant outlasted the hunger strike, which ceased after 16 days. The website Vote for the Worst, which urged fans to subvert the Idol system by keeping on its quirkiest and most divisive contestants, took up Malakar as a personal cause.

Looking back, Malakar believes that it’s the ambiguity of how he presented that bothered people so much. The judges and viewers just couldn’t figure him out because, as a 17-year-old kid who hadn’t graduated high school yet, he hadn’t figured himself out. “There was no way to really understand how to define me,” he says. “They didn’t know what culture I was. They didn’t know what sexuality I was. They didn’t know what genre I was. I was this anomaly that made people uncomfortable.”

The queer singers who had the most painful time being reshaped by the Idol system were those who stood out the most, whether they were flamboyant and over-the-top in their performance style, like Malakar, or their gender presentation skewed toward the effeminate. Season Eight runner-up Adam Lambert — who declined to speak for this story, citing his shooting schedule for The Voice Australia, on which he is a judge — has said that queer contestants who didn’t have the ability to hide were used by Idol as “comic relief.” “Anytime someone came on the show that was perceived to be gay or it was obvious enough that they were gay, they were a joke,” he remarked to the British music magazine NME in a 2018 interview. He added: “To be fair, some of them weren’t great singers, but there were a couple of really good singers that came on. And they weren’t taken seriously.”

To illustrate his point, Lambert noted the example of Adore Delano from Seasons Six and Seven, who would later contend on the reality competition show RuPaul’s Drag Race. Delano declined to participate in this story, but in a 2023 Instagram video publicly announcing her transition, she said that she went back into the closet to compete on Idol. Appearing on the show led her to suppress her transness in order to present herself as “something that was so uncomfortable,” she recalled. And yet her effervescent femininity couldn’t be contained: During her second appearance on Idol, she performed a sassy rendition of “Jailhouse Rock” by Elvis Presley that Cowell deemed “hideous” and “verging on the grotesque.” Delano was ultimately eliminated from the Top 16 after a performance of Soft Cell’s queer anthem “Tainted Love” that Cowell declared “absolutely useless.” She dyed her silky hair purple for the number.

Like Delano, Atlas Marshall auditioned for Idol twice, making it to the Top 36 in Season Eight and then trying out again for Season 16. Both experiences were extremely fraught. Following a performance of Meat Loaf’s “I’d Do Anything For Love (But I Won’t Do That)” during her first appearance on the show, Cowell looked at Marshall and remarked, “I think you probably would.” Even as a guileless 18-year-old with frosted emo bangs and angel-bite piercings, Marshall realized it was a “loaded comment.” “The joke around that song is that it’s about anal sex,” she says. After the audience booed Cowell’s remark, Ryan Seacrest, then the show’s sole emcee, invited Marshall to come sit on the judge’s lap, but Paula Abdul intervened and beckoned the contestant to rest on hers instead. Marshall was voted off Idol the next day.

[...] Marshall’s mother, who recently passed away, was a lesbian, and she raised her child in a queer household where it was OK to be “open, flamboyant, and fabulous,” as Marshall recalls. Being taught by Idol that the outside world might mock the parts of herself she was taught to embrace was a rude awakening. “For so long, there was a lot of shame around it,” she says of her first Idol experience. “I felt gross. I didn’t like myself.”

[...]

While the team behind Idol’s current iteration did not offer a comment on the record, the source close to the Fox production contests the idea that the show stopped contestants from expressing their most authentic selves, while adding that “coming out might have damaged certain contestants’ chances for success.” “No one ever prevented anyone from doing so, but there was often a sense — right or wrong — that it would be better if the American public’s vote was based more on their judgment about the performers’ talent rather than their sexual orientations,” the source says.

[...]

Although it would feel convenient to point the finger solely at Idol, the show at its peak reflected America’s culture as much as it defined it. When the series premiered in 2002, polling from Gallup showed that 43 percent of the U.S. populace still thought homosexuality should be illegal; Lawrence v. Texas, the Supreme Court ruling that struck down sodomy laws in the 14 states where gay sex was still illegal, wouldn’t be issued for another year. A majority of Americans wouldn’t support the right of same-sex couples to marry until 2011, during Idol’s tenth season on the air. That was also, coincidentally, the first season not to feature either Paula Abdul or Simon Cowell on the judges panel. Abdul, hailed by sources as a major supporter of queer contestants behind the scenes, parted ways with the program after Season Eight. Cowell left the following year to launch the U.S. spinoff of The X Factor, the British singing competition he created in 2004.

[...]

For all the troubles that some queer contestants say they had on the show, many argue that Idol’s missteps paled in comparison to how cruelly they were treated by the rest of the media, the music industry, and even America at large. Idol voters eliminated Season Seven’s David Hernandez the week after an Associated Press story revealed that he had previously worked as a dancer at a Arizona strip club that catered to a “mostly male” clientele. By that time, photos that allegedly showed Hernandez bartending at a gay nightclub had already been published on Vote for the Worst, although Hernandez says the pictures weren’t even of him. He says that Idol was already well aware of his work history by the time the reports surfaced, as he disclosed the information in the extensive questionnaire the show required contestants to complete; spanning over 100 pages in length, it also asked singers to name their past sexual and romantic partners.

[...]

The media persecution of queer Idol contestants was so de rigueur during the show’s imperial era that few even questioned it. Jim Verraros’ coming out in 2002 prompted a two-page spread in the Globe, a U.S. supermarket tabloid, asking: “Who’s Next?” Chatter surrounding Adam Lambert’s sexuality made the New York Times after photos circulated of the singer, eyes covered in makeup and glitter all over his face, locking lips with another man. Following the Season Two finale, Clay Aiken says that the first question that he was ever asked by a reporter was: “Are you gay?” He wouldn’t formally come out until a 2008 People magazine cover story coinciding with the birth of his son, and for years, he says, confirmation of his sexual orientation “was the only thing that anybody in the press wanted” from him. “I never did an interview where somebody was not trying to ask me if I was gay,” he says, later adding: “Everybody wanted to be the one who got it.”

Aiken says that speculation regarding his sexuality reached such a fever pitch that, for a time, he stopped leaving his house. Even then, there was no hiding from it: “If I heard anybody setting up a gay joke on a sitcom or a late-night show, I held my breath because I knew my name was coming. Eighty percent of the time I was right.” The topic was a frequent punchline of late-night host Jimmy Kimmel, who frequently booked Aiken to appear on his show, and comedian Kathy Griffin spent a full 15 minutes discussing Aiken’s sexuality in a 2005 stand-up special on Bravo. “I do find him to allegedly be the gayest man in the free world,” she said in the routine, calling him “Gayken” to hearty applause from the crowd. Even two years after he had actually come out, a Season Eight episode of Family Guy saw Stewie, during a parody of Family Feud, being asked to name a “popular fruit” and responding: “Clay Aiken.” “I laugh at them now,” he says of the jokes, noting that he calls Griffin a friend. “I find them hilarious now, but at the time, it hurt a lot.”

Full article here

[mortuarywriting]

well hell. wip wednesday and i havent written much of anything so im just gonna share what I've got for chapter 2 i guess? poor reader is very tired and uh. exhausted to say the least.

Morbid below!

You just level a very tired look back to muttonchops, "is this the part where I'm taken out back like Ol' Yeller?" The big one tilts his head a bit, your gaze tracks the movement and you just sigh, "what? Bullets are cheap. I'm sure you have an allocated training amount for range days, I'm an easy target," at this you gesture inward, nobody would accuse you of being Small or Petite or any of that bullshit, "and it's not hard to move the brass from whatever secondary location to the range. Hell, knives are even cheaper," as you say it you know you have a goddamn preference.  You don't wanna die like this of all ways but you don't exactly know how many rights you have since you are very publicly dead. Like in a perfect world you somehow get slipped back to your bedroom, you're fine, there's no bruising and you just had a wild dream. Second best you'll take a weird sleepwalking incident- mortifying in it's own way but a fun anecdote for later. You don't want to be talking about how easily they can kill you. How even if they let you off base what the hell could you do? You're entirely at their whims and that's sixteen levels of horrifying. "Don't think from the article there was enough left of me for uh, an open casket," you nervously fiddle with your hands, kinda all you could do with them, "and hell, cremation isn't exactly the hardest thing. Makes me more portable than I ever have been in life." You huff as you lean back, meeting the eyes of mutton chops and just. Matching his gaze. You know exhaustion is written in every line of your being. You just keep his gaze as long as the three of you sit quietly. You're half convinced there's some level of scent warfare you're still missing, but you can't find yourself to give half a damn. "Medical's initial assessment is back." You blink, that's not where you were expecting this to go, "okay? Can I talk with her about them or-" "You don't have scent glands. They want to do x-rays to analyze your sinuses-" "Wait aren't there laws about healthcare information privacy-" "- among other select tests, and we will make decisions upon further results." You go to jerk your hands up in exasperation, "awesome. I've been voluntold for more needlework. Joy of joys, is it a dissection or still a vivisection if I'm only legally dead?" He levels an unimpressed look at you, and you level your own right back. You can't help yourself from grumbling, "need to know just how much of my medical history gets to stay private with this bullshit." "I get access to records as your alpha-" You scoff, "I didn't vote for you." The big one shifts from foot to foot, but muttonchops continues as if you hadn't spoken up, "-assigned to your case and determining how to classify your presence on this base." Your brows furrow, "why would you need to be my assigned alpha for that, or granted my medical information. The way someone smells is no basis for a system of-" "Are you quite done," he sounds like he's at a resigned tired stage- which, fair- and the big one is looking at muttonchops… expectantly?

[canmom]

a few critical comments on "The Busy Worker's Handbook to the Apocalypse"

so i read this one very doomer medium article The Busy Worker's Handbook to the Apocalypse the other day, which attempts to argue that with the amount of GHGs already in the atmosphere, collapse of human society is inevitable and imminent, in a way that the scientific establishment such as the IPCC is instutionally unable to admit. I will warn, if you're prone to anxiety, don't read it, because the article is bleak as hell and quite effective rhetoric. it opens with a largely correct overview of climate science which lends it credibility, before jumping to the worst imaginable conclusions about various feedbacks and tipping points.

and like... it got me a bit. immediately after I read it, I was left with a horrifying feeling that this is as good as it will ever get, that the end of it all was only years away, that all my hopes for what I'd do for the next few decades and what is prefigured by this or that social development were utter delusions, and all there was left to do was just try and make the best of the last few years before we all die in the big cascading-failure famine.

but... ok Bryn, hold your fucking horses, let's do some research eh?

to begin with, I found one critique video that points out a number of places where the author makes scientific errors, misunderstands his sources, or doesn't justify his conclusions. for example, the author argues that a 'blue sea event' where the polar ice melts would lead to immediate, catastrophic warming as the latent heat of fusion no longer absorbs any incoming radiation, and also that the success of measures to reduce air pollution will accelerate warming; these seem to both be straight up wrong. but that doesn't cover everything I had questions about.

for example, one scenario discussed in the 'handbook' is 'multi breadbasket failure'. the idea is that, given that most of the world's food is produced in a few specific regions, this is a scenario where two or more of the major food-producing regions suffer very low yields in the same year due to climate shit. and this isn't farfetched, there is mainstream scientific discussion of this concept. for an accessible analysis, I found this article by some major capitalist consulting company (assess bias accordingly) which gives some actual numbers, including estimates of which crops are more likely to fail as the climate changes (rice, corn and soy are in trouble, but wheat, oddly enough, could actually do better in a warmer world).

however, while the author of the guide to the apocalypse suggests that, thanks to 'just in time' supply chains, there are almost no reserves of food and everything is on ships... the mckinsey article quotes a figure of 30% 'stock-to-use ratio', meaning there is a fair chunk of food in the granaries. they seem to predict that if two 'breadbaskets' fail in the same year, causing a 15% drop in yield, that ratio would drop to about 20%. the immediate result would be food price spikes (which means a lot of people would starve) but it's not a complete 'global megafamine' collapse.

'course, the question then is what happens if it happens again a few years later? but at least theoretically the 'multi breadbasket failure' scenario could be drastically mitigated by 1. producing food in more different places so the eggs are in fewer baskets 2. storing more food when times are good (something discussed in the mckinsey article) and 3. the world broadly eating less meat (since most crops are grown to feed animals, which adds a trophic level of inefficiency), so less grain is needed to feed everyone. i don't know if that's actually gonna happen, but it's not prima facie impossible.

on the other hand, the author of the Handbook argues that a world renewable energy transition is not just infeasible but physically impossible, because it demands reserves of metal that do not exist to roll out all the wires, turbines, etc etc. I was already fairly pessimistic about whether the renewable energy transition could happen in time (since there is little evidence that the current renewable deployment is making any sort of dent in GHG emissions, which remain resolutely coupled to economic activity); I was also conscious that the amount of mining to produce all the batteries and so on would have its own devastating impacts. but the argument that it is impossible even in principle is new to me.

so is that actually true? the Handbook bases this point entirely on the work of Dr Simon Michaux of the Finnish Geological Survey, who presents the calculation in this hour-long presentation based on this report (summary). this is honestly an excellent presentation, explaining the methodology really clearly - it reminds me of SEWTHA back in the day, a book I found very formative. And actually McKay also raised the question of materials:

To create 48 kWh per day of offshore wind per person in the UK would require 60 million tons of concrete and steel – one ton per person. Annual world steel production is about 1200 million tons, which is 0.2 tons per person in the world. During the second world war, American shipyards built 2751 Liberty ships, each containing 7000 tons of steel – that’s a total of 19 million tons of steel, or 0.1 tons per American. So the building of 60 million tons of wind turbines is not off the scale of achievability; but don’t kid yourself into thinking that it’s easy. Making this many windmills is as big a feat as building the Liberty ships.

McKay's analysis was based only on the UK; the figure of 48kWh/d comes from McKay's estimate of plausible maximum wind capacity for the UK only. He also takes into account some modest reductions in energy use. So my sense was that a completely renewable energy system would be an unprecedented megaproject, but not utterly implausible.

By comparison, Michaux's analysis (which I took a bunch of notes on, I'll post in a minute) has a worldwide scope, and rather than using back of the envelope physical calculations, relies on data on existing systems which largely did not exist when McKay was alive. It is nevertheless a rough estimate, and crucially, focuses on the question of completely replacing current fossil fuel use. Where good data did not exist, like the amount of steel and concrete used in a wind turbine, it was not included in the analysis, since the purpose was to get a lower bound.

The report covers a number of different minerals, many of which existing reserves fall short and it would take thousands of years to produce enough at current production levels. Copper is the big one: he estimates some 4.5 billion tones would be needed, where only 0.88 billion tonnes of reserved are publicly known to exist, and the rate of new discoveries has tailed off to near zero. I see no error in his calculation (though I haven't checked the numbers in detail, the method is sound).

However, there is a major caveat. The vast, vast majority of this copper would go to millions of battery banks used to provide just four weeks of storage to make it through the wind production lulls in the winter. This covers about 4.2 billion tonnes; by comparison the amount of copper used for one generation everything else (wind turbines, EV batteries etc.) is a still-hefty 0.3 billion tonnes. So that raises the question of whether there's an alternative to all those batteries, mature enough to be deployed at a scale to provide 0.55PWh of energy storage (or likely, more) in a decade or two. My understanding is most other tech (flywheels etc.) is still on the 'tiny pilot plant' sort of scale.

Anyway, as far as like the future of humanity goes, I already agree with Michaux's main point that maintaining current rates of energy consumption is just not viable; the future is necessarily going to be much lower energy. (I also don't really think 'decoupling' economic activity from energy use to somehow preserve capitalism's exponential curve is really plausible.)

However, the way the author of the Handbook uses Michaux's estimates is not supported. Michaux proved that a 1:1 replacement of fossil fuel energy consumption with renewables is not possible; that necessarily implies that (since fossil fuels are just starting to run dry and becoming less viable) we have to get by on less energy. And yeah, that obviously implies substantial changes to how people live in rich countries, crushing the super-rich etc.; it's fair to say the whole system must become less complex, in ecological terms.

I do still agree it's more than understandable to be pessimistic about whether that will happen without everything collapsing first - to put it mildly, there is a lot of inertia in a system this complex! - but it's not physically impossible that humans could accomplish a renewable energy transition, contract and rationalise how we use what energy we can get, and still have everyone live relatively comfortably. (After all, life on Earth has managed to live sustainably on solar power for billions of years, indefinitely recycling carbon, nitrogen etc. between high and low energy forms and dumping all the unusable high-entropy energy into space; I stand by the belief that there is no intrinsic reason that human society, even with complex technologies like computers, could not eventually assume a similar equilibrium if we survive. Though could does not mean is likely to....)

So I'm not convinced that we're a few years away from the first domino falling in the apocalypse. The situation is very very bad, don't get me wrong, I do basically agree the current socioeconomic world system is not capable of adapting fast enough as it stands, and I do find it increasingly hard to imagine the prospect of it being overturned, so I don't think the gigadeaths future is out of the question or even unlikely. But it's at least not the imminent near-certainty this essay makes out. If it comes, it will be more drawn-out than that. We don't need to live as if we will certainly die in a year or five.

So... now back to not thinking about it and fiddling while the world burns, I guess? :/

[captainshurley]

Baby I'm not alright, but I'm okay (Part 7)

Cash Wheeler x f reader

Previous chapter

Waking up this morning, y/n slowly opened her eyes, welcoming the warm sunlight. Daniel had left late last night when the rain stopped, but the scent of his cologne still lingered in the air. y/n smiled at her memories of yesterday. Of the support Dan had given her during her panic attack.  Who would have thought he wouldn't walk away scared or tell her, like the others, that she shouldn't act like that.

The girl stretched lazily and got out of bed to make breakfast.

In the quaint and cozy kitchen, a vibrant young lady meticulously crafted culinary masterpieces with an air of unwavering determination. Her hands danced nimbly across the countertop, measuring ingredients with precision and finesse. As she stirred, sautéed, and whisked, the aroma of fragrant spices filled the air, tantalizing the senses. y/n's eyes sparkled with passion as she poured her heart and soul into each dish, blending flavors and textures with impeccable skill. The rhythmic tapping of a knife against the cutting board provided a soothing soundtrack to her culinary symphony, creating a sense of peace and tranquility.

Finished with breakfast, y/n found her phone. Her phone had been bursting with notifications since early morning, but because the sound was off, she hadn't seen any of them until now. Several hundred people had subscribed to her Instagram. Some even wrote messages to her in DMs. Most of them were very toxic messages.  In addition to notifications of new subscribers, y/n was tagged in some photos. The girl opened one of them and was horrified to notice that the picture showed her hugging Daniel and geotagging the park they met at yesterday. Things got even worse when y/n read the caption under the photo.

“Wrestling star's private life secret revealed! Cash Wheeler, known for his brutal and little-talking image in the ring, was recently spotted in the company of a mysterious lady. For a long time, Wheeler has shied away from discussing his personal relationships, preferring to keep his private life under wraps...”

Under the photo was a link for the full article on the site. Y/n still didn't understand what it was about her and how she deserved all that was coming at her at once. She opened the link and continued reading the article.

“...This time, however, wrestling fans got a rare chance to see Cash Wheeler in an unusual situation for him. Last night, September 27, a Reddit user posted photos of the pair strolling through a park, exchanging smiles. Usually so focused and stern in the ring, Cash seems to have changed his look, becoming more relaxed and open in the company of his enigmatic companion.

The gossip and speculation have not been long in coming. Reddit users are wondering who is this mysterious girl who won the wrestler's heart? How long have they been together? And how have they managed to keep their relationship a secret until now? Undoubtedly, this exciting event caused a storm of emotions among Cash Wheeler's fans. Fans even found some photos from Dynamite that showed Wheeler's new girlfriend with a full access badge, including backstage.

We were able to find out that Cash Wheeler's new girlfriend Y/n Mercer serves on the Asheville Police Department...”

The girl couldn't read any further. She locked the screen and tossed the phone aside. What to say to her brother and how to explain to him that she wasn't hiding her relationship from him because there was no relationship as such. She and Daniel are just friends, right? At the thought of Wheeler, her lips curved into a nervous smile. How would Dan react? Wouldn't it become a problem for him? Rational thoughts quickly began to override the voice in her head. It was screaming that trouble was coming and she needed to run away sooner rather than later. Literally and figuratively.

Y/n literally ran to her bedroom and started packing quickly. She took only the necessary things: documents, several sets of clothes, a laptop and chargers for her gadgets. Y/n began to gasp with panic. She wasn't ready to go through all of this again and alone. She shook and slid down the wall to the floor. Her eyes filled with tears, her hands were shaking, and she was terribly short of breath.

Y/n sobbed for quite some time. She was just beginning to calm down as she heard her phone ringing in the living room. Getting up on slightly shaky legs, she walked to the common room, picked up her phone and saw a missed call from her brother.

“Damn, I'm not ready for this conversation yet...”

[monstersandmaw]

Here's this month's offering - a female monster this time, and a gender neutral reader, and we're back in Starfall Springs again, and after two months of extraordinarily long (12k each!!) stories, I'm back to the more normal and manageable 2-3k word stories with this one. 

Content: casual hookup that could be interpreted to go further in the future, no specific body parts mentioned during the sex scene, gender and body neutral reader Wordcount: 2702

Starfall Springs wasn’t a glitzy resort like Oyster Cove or Silversand Island. It wasn’t somewhere the extremely wealthy went, unless they had a reason to visit one of the Silkfoot family, of course.

So when you pulled up to the door of Shell Cottage, a tiny, cozy, stone fisherman’s house with limewashed walls and tiny, deep-set windows, and a slate roof that bore moss in between the tiles like extra caulking, you expected the resident to be someone… ordinary.

Of course, ‘ordinary’ for Starfall Springs was a bit more of a variable term than it was for the larger cities, where non-humans tended to be outnumbered 10-1 by humans, so since moving to the quaint, seaside town, you’d come to expect the unexpected with every delivery.

Leaning your bicycle against the rough wall of the house, you unslung your insulated backpack and carefully extracted the bag of hot food, enchanted to keep its contents warm and fresh all the way to its destination, and approached the front door.

Before you could knock, however, a voice drifted out to you from inside, and its owner did not sound happy at all.

“… I don’t care how they got left out of the article, I really don’t, but you need to include images of her paintings in the bloody article about her paintings! She’s an artist, for crying out loud! Gods-dammit do I have to run the entire fucking magazine myself? Fix. It.”

Shit. Sounded like someone wasn’t enjoying their holiday at all. Still, you had a living to earn, and you weren’t going to do it eavesdropping on angry city folk who ran magazines about artists, or whatever this person did.

With a decisive knock on the cutesy, cottage door, you stepped back and waited.

The door nearly flew off its hinges when the occupant opened up, and you looked up at them in surprise. And then up. And up.

At nearly seven feet tall, the tiefling inside was… huge. And… gorgeous.

Her tail lashed back and forth behind her like an angry cat’s, and she was wearing… oh by all the gods… You’d had the door answered to you in all sorts of getups, from cartoon-pyjamas to athletic attire, tuxedos to even just underwear, and one horrifying occasion where they’d worn nothing at all, but this was the first time you’d ever been… affected by it.

Read the whole thing over on Patreon right now, and get access to the huge pre-2020 catalogue, as well as access to polls, WIP snippets and previews, and lifetime membership to our chill Discord server.

[paperandsong]

This May 17, 2024 article was really interesting (and doesn't seem to be behind a paywall). It covers the relationship between anarchic ideologies and the accessibility of dynamite and how together they unwittingly led to the modern surveillance state.

While this article is mostly focused on anarchic terrorism in the U.S., it does mention Émile Henry, the French anarchist whose 1894 trial and execution were covered by Gaston Leroux for Le Matin (130 years ago just yesterday). I've mentioned in other posts that Henry's heated words at trial likely served as inspiration for Erik's wild description of his own plot to bomb the Palais Garnier, a pivotal plot point of The Phantom of the Opera.

Part of understanding why Leroux wrote Erik the way he did lies in understanding the nature of anarchic terrorism of the late 19th and early 20th century. In 1910, the idea that an anarchist might want to blow up the Garnier wouldn't really have been so surprising. The Liceu Opera in Barcelona was even bombed in 1893. So what was Leroux trying to say about his own society in giving his monstrous Erik anarchist tendencies and then asking us to pity him in the end?

In reading about anarchy and anarchic terrorism, I was struck by how common bombings and assassinations were during this time period in both Europe and the U.S. And how little we talk about them now. Many high ranking people were assassinated by anarchists: Empress Sisi, the president of France, of the U.S., Franz Ferdinand, kicking off World War I. One hundred years ago, if a bomb went off in New York City, most people would assume an anarchist had planted it. Our assumptions would be very different today.

Being an article about terrorism and bombs, it isn't particularly sympathetic to anarchists. But I did find this a interesting explanation for their actions:

"One side believed it was entirely appropriate to open fire on striking workers with machine guns and burn their tent cities to the ground, as Rockefeller forces did at Ludlow; the other side believed that the correct course for society was to eliminate all corporations and governments and return to the small-scale guild systems of Renaissance Europe, and that the best way to advocate for that vision was through a campaign of mass terror and targeted assassinations. From the anarchist’s perspective, the true infernal machine that had been unleashed was James Watt’s steam engine. Horrifying workplace accidents were simply the cost of doing business. The industrialists had been blowing people up or dismembering them long before the anarchists launched their counterattacks."  By Steven Johnson, author of “The Infernal Machine: A True Story of Dynamite, Terror and the Rise of the Modern Detective,” from which this article was adapted.

[blackbirdsrest]

Another Article Compilation

These are mostly random articles I've come across and am saving here. Quite a few of these come from more local American News outlets which tend to provide a lot less biased news. Mediabiasfactcheck has a list of least biased news sources here. If you're not in the US and can't seem to access these pages, I think if you use a VPN and set it in the states it should work. Let me know.

Some horrifying news out of Alabama that will have really awful consequences.

Warning. These stories detail allegations of violence against Indigenous people.

Another set of articles on Florida book bans.

Tbh I don't get why it can be flouted so hard when it's directly censoring freedom of speech and forcing people to abide by a mainly religious ideology that discriminates against a large segment of the population. Freedom of religion also means freedom from religion. You can't take away books from everyone just because YOU don't like them, that's not how freedom of speech works. The state charging people with a felony for not abiding with censorship is also absolutely unconstitutional.

Continuing in the vein of Education.

[saiacross]

Bonds Unveiled

Supernatural FanFic : 10,593 Words : First Work : OC

Chapter 5:

First the Children, Now the Winchesters

Heading to the kitchen of the bunker to find Dean and Saia, Sam rounds the corner carrying his laptop, eager to share the details of the case he has discovered. As he enters the kitchen, he finds Dean sitting at the table, engrossed in his breakfast, and Saia leaning against the counter, sipping a cup of coffee.

"Guys, I found something! You won't believe what's been happening in Shadowbrook, Georgia." Sam’s voice hold disbelief in itself.

Dean looks up from his plate, his interest piqued, while Saia turns her attention fully towards Sam. "Alright, Sammy, spill it. What's going on in Shadowbrook?"

Sam sets his laptop down facing Dean with the article open that displays  the disturbing events that have plagued the town.

"Reports of giant spiders, knife-wielding clowns, and other terrifying creatures and events have been flooding the town of Shadowbrook. Every night, something new and horrifying emerges, and then it disappears by morning."

Saia's eyes widen as she takes in the details, clearly intrigued by the strange occurrences. "That sounds too weird even for us. So, what are we dealing with here? Some kind of demonic circus?"

Sam shakes his head, a thoughtful expression on his face. "It's hard to say for sure, but the people are terrified, and the authorities have been unable to find a logical explanation for what's happening."

Examining the article closely, Dean finishes his breakfast. “Well, sounds like it's our kind of party. Let's suit up and hit the road, see what's really going on in Shadowbrook."

After a grueling 15-hour drive, the group finally arrives in Shadowbrook, Georgia, just as the sun begins to rise, casting an ethereal glow on the small town. Saia stretches her arms, feeling the stiffness from the long journey, while Dean adjusts his tie and Sam straightens his jacket. Dressed in their signature suits, they prepare to blend in as FBI agents to gain access to crucial information.

"Man, I can't believe we made it. I don't think my back has ever been so sore." Saia would say as she stretched.

"You'll survive, Saia. A little road trip never hurt anyone." Dean smirked.

 "Alright, guys, the local police station is just a few blocks away. Let's head there and speak to the sheriff. Hopefully, he'll have some insights into these strange occurrences." Sam put his phone away after checking it.

The group makes their way through the quiet streets of Shadowbrook, observing the town awakening to a new day. As they approach the police station, they can see activity inside, officers going about their duties.

 "Alright guys, I’ll do the talking. Just follow my lead and act professional." Dean said as he adjusted his sunglasses

"Act professional? That's asking a lot from you, Dean." Saia would smirk.

 "Yeah, yeah. Just try not to scare anyone with your Kitsune charm." Dean rolled his eyes.

"Let's focus, guys. We're here to gather information and find a way to stop these weird events from terrorizing the town." Sam was always the ref with a smile.

They enter the police station, and as they approach the front desk, the receptionist looks up, curious. "Can I help you?"

Dean flashes his FBI badge with confidence, while Sam and Saia follow suit. "Agent Smith, here to speak with Sheriff Anderson. We're investigating the recent unusual events in Shadowbrook."

"I'll let the sheriff know. One moment please." The receptionist spoke nervously.

The group takes stood in the waiting area, scanning the room and taking note of the officers' reactions to their presence.

“They are staring pretty hard.” Saia would whisper to Sam.

"We've done this countless times, Saia. Just stay calm and follow Dean's lead." Sam would reassure her.

After a few minutes, Sheriff Anderson emerges from his office, walking towards them with a friendly smile.

"Agents, welcome to Shadowbrook. What can I help you with?" Sheriff Anderson greet the three of them with his hand held out.

"Sheriff Anderson, we're here to investigate the recent series of strange events that have been occurring in town. We're hoping you can provide us with any relevant information or leads." Dean spoke as he shook the Sheriff’s hand.

"Of course. I've compiled all the reports and evidence we have so far. Let's head to my office, and I'll brief you on everything."

As they settle into Sheriff Anderson's office, the room is adorned with maps, case files, and a whiteboard filled with notes and diagrams. The sheriff takes a seat behind his desk, while Sam, Dean, and Saia position themselves in front of him, ready to absorb every detail.

"Alright, here's what we know so far. These strange events started happening about a month ago. Each night, the townsfolk report encounters with bizarre creatures and terrifying phenomena. We've had reports of giant spiders, knife-wielding clowns, and even sightings of ghostly apparitions."

"Any pattern to these occurrences? Do they happen in specific areas or at certain times?" Sam had a small notepad out and pen, ready to take notes as they asked questions.

"The events are random and unpredictable. They don't seem to follow any pattern. Some incidents occur in residential areas, others in parks or public spaces. But they always happen after dark."

“Any injuries or signs of foul play?" Dean took his turn in questioning.

"Fortunately, no serious injuries have been reported. Most of the incidents have left people frightened or shaken, but no one has been harmed. Some folks think it's just kids playing tricks, while others believe it's something more paranormal. I'm not sure what to think." The sheriff shook his head and leaned back in his chair, he looked at a lost.

“We're here to investigate and help, Sheriff. We've dealt with similar cases in the past. We'll look into the reports, talk to witnesses, and see if we can uncover any hidden connections or explanations."Saia felt the need to comfort the poor man.

"I appreciate your assistance, folks. If there's anything I can do to support your investigation, just let me know. I want to ensure the safety and peace of mind of our town's residents."The Sheriff stood the shake everyone hand once again before they headed out.

Leaving Sheriff Anderson's office, they set out to gather more information, interview witnesses, and explore the town's history, working towards unraveling the mysterious occurrences plaguing Shadowbrook.

The group, weary from their unsuccessful attempts to solve the mysteries of Shadowbrook, finds themselves seeking solace and respite at a local bar. The dimly lit establishment is filled with the chatter of patrons and the clinking of glasses, creating a comforting ambiance amidst the chaos they've been facing.

Sam, Dean, and Saia find a table seeking a momentary escape from the weight of their failed investigations. They sit together, nursing their drinks, each lost in their own thoughts. The weariness is evident on their faces, lines of exhaustion etched upon their brows.

  "I can't believe we're hitting dead ends at every turn. These creatures keep appearing, causing havoc, and then vanishing without a trace. It's like chasing shadows." Saia sighed heavily.

"Tell me about it. We've been on our toes all week, barely getting any sleep." Dean ran his hand down his face.

“There must be some underlying pattern or connection that we're missing. We need to think outside the box and approach this from a different angle." Sam was resting his head on his hand that was propped at the elbow on the table.

Saia throws back her shot of whiskey, trying to drown her frustration. The taste of the alcohol briefly eases her tension, but the mystery of Shadowbrook looms over her like a dark cloud. "I just wish we could find something, anything that could point us in the right direction. It feels like we're running in circles."

As they continue to share their frustrations and thoughts, the atmosphere in the bar begins to lighten. Laughter and friendly banter fill the air, momentarily pushing aside the weight of their mission.

Dean raises his glass, a glimmer of determination in his eyes. "To finding the truth, no matter how elusive it may be." Sam and Saia raise their glasses in unison, the clink of glass resonating with a sense of camaraderie and resilience.

After a while Saia would raise from her seat and make her way over to the bar for refills on their drinks. It hadn’t taken long, though while she was waiting she noticed the guys each talking to a woman who had appeared by their sides. Thanking the bartender Saia would take up their drinks and return to their table, though as she did so Saia now realized that both Sam and Dean have vanished in the blink of an eye. She takes a seat, feeling a mix of amusement and exasperation at their sudden disappearances. As she scans the bar, her eyes catch Dean making his way towards the exit with the woman he had been talking to earlier.

"Typical Dean." Saia rolled her eyes as she watches as Dean meets her gaze, and without a word, he gestures with his hands that he will contact her later. Saia raises an eyebrow in response, silently questioning his actions. But before she can react, Dean is already out the door, leaving her alone at the table.

Saia takes a deep breath, trying to brush off her frustration. She leans back in her chair and scans the bar once more, hoping to spot Sam. And there he is, engrossed in a conversation with a stunning woman, a departure from his usual focused demeanor. "Well, this is unexpected." She muttered to herself.

She watches for a moment, observing Sam's uncharacteristic charm. A mix of amusement and concern washes over her. With a shake of her head, Saia decides to give them their space and enjoy her own company for the time being. "Well, looks like it's just me and my thoughts tonight." She would sigh.

The morning sunlight casts a warm glow over the motel parking lot as Sam and Dean find themselves standing face to face in front of their shared room. Both of them appear slightly disheveled, their hair tousled and their clothes wrinkled, indicative of a night spent away from the motel.

“Dean? Wait are you just getting back?” Sam asked with a raise eye brow.

"You caught me, Sammy. Had a good time, if you know what I mean." Dean was grinning mischievously.

Sam's face flushes with embarrassment as he realizes that Dean is well aware of his own nocturnal activities.

"So hanging out, huh? With a lady friend, I presume?" Dean poked fun at Sam.

"Yeah, something like that." Sam tried to look anywhere else but at Dean.

Dean slapped Sam on the back "That's my boy! I'm proud of you, Sammy. Finally living it up a little."

 "Dean, can we not... talk about this?" Sam would ask uncomfortably.

Dean would chuckle "Don't worry, little brother. Your secret is safe with me. Just remember, always make sure to lock the door. Wouldn't want to accidentally interrupt anything, right?"

Sam rolls his eyes, trying to hide his amusement at Dean's teasing. Despite the embarrassment.

Just as Dean went to open the door Sam would place a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait… uh Dean..” Sam suddenly realized something.

Dean turned to Sam, confusion written across his face as he seen Sam’s eyes wide for some reason.

“If you were out, and I was out... that means we both ditched Saia at the bar last night." Sam’s voice was filled with concern.

A sinking feeling hit Dean stomach "Son of a... We left her alone? She's gonna kill us, Sam."

The weight of their actions settles heavily upon them as they begin to anticipate the repercussions of their thoughtless behavior. The thought of facing Saia's wrath sends a shiver down their spines.

"You think she's in there? Waiting for us?" Sam asked nervously.

 "Knowing Saia, she's probably plotting our demise as we speak. We better brace ourselves, Sammy." Dean ran a hand through his hair.

As they looked to the door, Dean takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what's to come.

Bracing himself Dean would ask "Ready, Sammy?"

Sam sighed "As ready as I'll ever be, Dean."

Sam and Dean enter their motel room, their footsteps heavy with the weight of their guilt. They exchange glances, silently acknowledging the gravity of their mistake. As they close the door behind them, their eyes fall upon Saia, who sits at the small table with her laptop open, a pistol within reach, and a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. Her posture is tense, her expression a mix of anger and disappointment.

"Morning, Saia! Slept well?" Dean ask in a cheery tone though his voice a bit shaky.

Saia's eyes narrow, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, just peachy. How about you two? Did you have a nice night gallivanting around town with the Ladies? Ditching me at the bar?"

Dean shifts uncomfortably, his bravado deflated. "Look, Saia, we didn't mean to... things just got a little out of hand. We lost track of time, you know how it goes."

"We are in the middle of a case, Dean. We are suppose to be working this as a team. But it seems like I'm just an afterthought."

Sam, feeling the weight of Saia's words, finally speaks up. "Saia, we messed up, and we're sorry. It was thoughtless of us to leave you alone like that. We understand if you're angry."

“Angry doesn't even begin to cover it, Sam!” Saia's fury fills the room as she glares at them both. “I mean are you two out of your minds? Random creatures are popping up in the middle of the NIGHT, causing havoc! And what do you do? You follow the first nice ass that looks your way out the door, without even considering the possible dangers they could have posed!"

“Well to be fair I wasn’t really looking at her ass ya know?” Dean would chuckle with a smile as though he were proud of himself while looking to his brother and motioning with his hands the ladies other rather well endowed area.

Saia and Sam looked to Dean with disbelief; did he really think what he just said helped his case?

Dean cleared his throat after noting their stares and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Saia, look we didn't—"

Saia cut him off, her voice sharp "No, Dean! You didn't think! You didn't consider the consequences. What if those women were involved in whatever is happening in this town? You could have put yourselves, me, and others at risk."

Sam remorseful "Saia, you're right. We should have been more cautious. We let our guard down, and it was a mistake."

Dean was nodding solemnly "You're right, Saia. We should have been more focused. We let our personal desires cloud our judgment."

Saia doesn’t say another word as she watches the to brothers. She sighs as she rubs her eyes with one hand, then pinches the bridge of her nose before looking back to her laptop.

“I think I may have found something.” She would address the guys. “While looking over the new letters again it seems along with the strange occurrences every night, there have been reports of children at the local school falling ill."

 "Falling ill? What kind of illness?" Sam would question as he moved to stand behind her to look over her shoulder.

"The doctors are calling it extreme fatigue. The kids suddenly become incredibly tired, to the point where they can't even stay awake during the day. It's affecting a significant number of students, and the cause is unknown."

"Extreme fatigue? At an elementary? That doesn’t sound normal. It could be related to whatever is happening in this town." Dean would pounder.

"That's what I'm thinking too. It seems too coincidental to ignore.” Saia would nod her head as she sat back.

"Alright, let's look into it. We'll need to visit the school, talk to the teachers, and gather more information. It could give us some clues about what we're dealing with." Sam would pat Saia shoulder before he headed to the bathroom to freshen up.

“Good work.” Dean would praise Saia, shooting her a smile as he followed Sam. Saia would just shake her head and roll her eyes.

Sam, Dean, and Saia stood outside the principal's office at the local elementary school, dressed in their FBI suits, waiting to meet with him. Saia's eyes wandered to the colorful artwork hanging on the walls, created by the young students. Each drawing had the child's name and the date it was made.

"These drawings are so adorable. It's nice to see their creativity on display." Saia looked closer at some of the art.

"Yeah, they're not bad. But I've seen better." Dean scrutinized the drawings after a glance.

"Dean, they're just kids." Sam would remind him with a chuckle.

Saia to would  let out a soft laugh at their banter, acknowledging the different view of the Winchester brothers. Just then, the principal emerged from his office, extending a welcoming hand.

"Good morning, officers. I'm Principal Anderson. Thank you for coming."

"Good morning, Principal Anderson. We're here to discuss the recent cases of extreme fatigue among the students and investigate any possible causes." Saia would greet. The trio followed Principal Anderson into his office, where they found a desk piled with paperwork and a cozy seating area.

 “We've been working closely with medical professionals to find answers, but it's been a challenge. Most of the cases seem to be concentrated among the younger children. We're trying to determine if there are any common factors, but it's been elusive so far." He would explain.

As Sam, Dean, and Saia exited the principal's office, Principal Anderson handed them a list of names of the children who had been affected by extreme fatigue. Saia scanned the list, her brows furrowing in concentration.

"Wait a minute... These names... They look familiar." Saia paused mid stride.

"What do you mean? Have you come across them before?" Dean questioned.

Saia's eyes widened with realization, and a spark of excitement ignited within her. "I think I have. I saw these names on the artwork hanging in the hallway." Saia walked back towards the hallway where the children's artwork was displayed. Dean and Sam followed closely behind, their curiosity piqued.

"Are you saying the kids who made those drawings are the ones falling ill?" Sam voice voice try to remain hushed but carried in the empty hall.

Saia began removing the artwork that matched the names, creating a growing stack in her arms.

"Saia, what are you doing?" Dean whispered and looked around as though they would be caught.

Saia carefully gathered the artwork, holding the pieces in her hands. With a sense of urgency, she turned to face Sam and Dean, her eyes filled with a mix of astonishment and concern. "Guys, look at this. Each of these drawings, created by the children who have fallen ill, depicts one of the creatures that has been terrorizing the town at night."

"Wait, you're saying these kids somehow drew the monsters into existence?" Dean’s voice was filled with doubt. But Saia nodded.

"It's not just a coincidence. Each piece of art corresponds to a specific creature we've encountered. The clown with the knife, the giant spider, the ghost girl on a horse, the army of lawn gnomes.” Saia would pull out each picture as she listed off the events the town had experienced.

“That one was weird.” Dean huffed remembering putting each gnome with a base ball bat in the middle of the town square until drawn when they all disappeared.  

Sam's brows furrowed, “Hey look. All these kids are in the same class.” Sam pointed to the grade level that was listed on each drawing and the teachers name. His mind racing to make sense of the information. "So, it's not just random attacks. There's a connection between the children, their drawings, and the creatures manifesting in reality."

Dean, Sam, and Saia followed the room numbers down the hallway until they reached the door corresponding to the teacher's name on the children's artwork. Dean knocked on the door, but before there was a response he entered the room, flashing his FBI badge.

"Morning, ma'am. We're Special Agents investigating the recent illness and unusual events in town. We'd like to ask you a few questions."

The woman, a young and beautiful teacher, looked up from her desk, surprised by their sudden entrance. She composed herself quickly and greeted them with a polite smile. "Oh, of course. Please come in, my kids are currently at lunch. I'm Miss Wilson."

As they stepped further into the room, Saia rolled her eyes at Dean's instinctive flirtatious behavior. Sam caught her gaze and offered an apologetic smile, silently acknowledging his brother's tendency.

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Wilson. I'm Agent Smith, and these are my colleagues, Agent Thompson and Agent Anderson." Dean beamed a charming smile at the teacher.

Saia and Sam flashed their badges as well, emphasizing their official role in the investigation.

"Nice to meet you all. How can I assist with your investigation?"

Sam took the lead, while Saia observed the conversation, ready to interject if necessary. "We're investigating the recent illness that has affected several students in this school. Have you noticed any changes or unusual behavior among the children?"

“Do you have any idea what might be causing this fatigue? Any unusual circumstances or events that could be related?" Sam would press.

Miss Wilson thought for a moment, her brow furrowing. "To be honest, I'm not sure. It could just be a combination of factors, like the change in seasons or the stress of schoolwork. I've been trying to provide them with a supportive environment and encourage rest."

Dean leaned against a desk, observing the teacher with a skeptical gaze. "You haven't noticed anything else out of the ordinary, strange occurrences, or any connections between the illnesses and other events in town?"

Miss Johnson shook her head, genuinely unaware of any additional details.

"Alright well we appreciate your cooperation, Miss Wilson. If you notice anything unusual or have any new information, please don't hesitate to reach out to us." Sam would hand the teacher one of his contact cards

Miss Johnson expressed her gratitude and promised to keep them informed if she came across any relevant information.

As they left the office, Saia turned to the brothers with a concerned expression.

As the group left the school, Saia's demeanor appeared contemplative, her mind clearly preoccupied with something. Dean and Sam noticed her distant expression and exchanged a concerned look before Sam spoke up.

"Hey, Saia, you seem lost in thought. Is everything alright?"

Saia’s behavior unwavering "I'm not sure... Something didn't feel right in there. I caught a familiar scent, but I couldn't quite place it.."

Dean furrowed his brow, curious about Saia's heightened senses and the potential significance of her observation. "What kind of scent are we talking about here?"

Saia paused for a moment, contemplating how to describe it. "It's hard to explain, but it was something... alluring. Like I've encountered it before but I just can’t seem to figure it out."

Sam nodded, understanding the feeling. Dean pondered for a moment before making a decision.

“Alright, here's what we'll do. Sam and I will visit the homes of the affected children, talk to the parents. Saia, you can head off to do some research, see if you can find any information about creatures that have the ability to bring art to life. Let's meet back at the motel in a few hours."

Sam and Saia nodded in agreement. “Oh and let us know if that nose of yours remembers where they sent came from.” Dean would holler as he and Sam jumped into the Impala and Saia starting walking in the opposite direction for the motel. Saia simply gave a wave as a reply.

As the evening sky grew darker, Sam and Dean found themselves parked outside the last house they had visited. Dean reached for his phone and dialed Saia's number, putting it on speaker for both him and Sam to listen in on the conversation.

After a few rings, Saia's voice came through the phone. "Hello?"

 "Hey, Saia. We just finished talking to the last of the parents. A few of them mentioned that their kids have been having nightmares, and it's been affecting their sleep." Dean was loosening his tie as he spoke.

Sam's brows furrowed as he listened, intrigued by the potential connection between the nightmares and the creatures they had encountered. "Nightmares... Could it be that the creatures are somehow manifesting from the children's dreams rather than the artwork itself?"

There was a moment of silence as Saia absorbed the new information and adjusted her perspective on the situation. "You might be onto something, Sam. If the nightmares are indeed connected to these manifestations, it would explain why the creatures disappear after they're defeated and the ones who aren’t disappear by morning. I'll adjust my search criteria accordingly and see if I can find any thing associated with dream manipulation."

Dean nodded, impressed by Sam's insight and eager to learn what Saia would uncover in her research. "Alright, we'll head back to the motel soon, but we're going to grab some food first. We'll be there in about thirty minutes."

Saia acknowledged their plan with a determined tone. "Alright, I'll continue my search. Stay safe, and don't forget the barbecue sauce for my burger."

Dean chuckled, knowing Saia's love for the sweet-tangy flavor, and Sam joined in with a light laugh.

"You got it, Saia. See you soon." Sam would assure her of her request.

With their conversation concluded, Dean ended the call stuffing his phone into his pocket. He started the engine, and the Impala roared to life, its headlights cutting through the darkness.

As Sam and Dean sat in the car, waiting for their food at the drive-thru, Sam couldn't shake off the nagging thought that had been bothering him. He had observed a pattern in their group dynamics that he couldn't ignore any longer.

“Hey Dean, we need to talk about something. It's been bothering me for a while now."

Dean glanced at Sam, sensing the seriousness in his voice. "What's on your mind, Sammy?"

"It's about Saia. Have you noticed that whenever we split up, you always make sure you're not paired up with her? Even if it means going solo."

Dean's eyes darted to Sam, a defensive expression briefly crossing his face. "What are you talking about, Sam? That's not true. We split up all the time."

Sam scoffed at his brothers blatant lie. "No, Dean, think about it. Whenever we divide the tasks, you always find a way to avoid being with Saia. It's been happening for a while now. Saia noticed it too. Remember when we were helping Angelique? She pointed it out then"

Dean's grip on the steering wheel tightened, and he looked away, avoiding Sam's gaze. “Look, I've been doing this for a long time. I know how to divide and conquer. It's not about not trusting Saia. It's about strategy.”

Sam's frustration was building, and he couldn't hold back any longer. "Strategy? Come on, Dean! We should be looking out for each other, especially Saia. She's proven herself time and again. Why do you always keep your distance?"

Dean's jaw clenched, his voice tinged with annoyance. "It's not about trust, Sam. It's... It's just different with Saia.” Dean stopped himself from speaking any further.

Sam's eyes widened, realizing what Dean was implying. Sam scoffed again, louder, and was astonished. "Are you serious? That's the reason? You're uncomfortable with her not being human? Dean, you have the literal King of Hell on speed dial!"

Dean's frustration was plainly written as he defended his stance. "It's not that simple, Sam. We've dealt with so much demon crap, but Saia is on a whole different level. It's hard for me to wrap my head around it sometimes."

Sam shook his head disappointment mixing in his voice. "Dean, you welcomed her to our family. You can't let that be a barrier between us. Saia deserves better than that."

The tension between the brothers escalated, their voices rising in an intense argument. "I'm just trying to protect her, Sam!”

"From what Dean? You? Because she has proven herself to be just as tough as either of us. She's strong, and she's chosen to be with us.” Sam’s words oozed with spite on Saia’s behavior; despite that Sam knew what he said about his brother wasn’t true, but it still stung.

The argument reached its peak, both brothers frustrated and exhausted from their conflicting perspectives. They fell into a strained silence, their emotions weighing heavily on them.

As they finally arrived at the motel, Sam and Dean got out of the car without uttering another word. The tension hung in the air, unresolved and lingering between them. They each grabbed a bag of food and headed to their room, where Saia awaited them.

As Sam and Dean stepped into the motel room, their expressions strained and their voices carrying an undertone of tension, Saia's eyes immediately fixated on them. She noticed the rough atmosphere enveloping the brothers, sensing that something had gone awry. With genuine concern in her voice, she approached them.

 "Hey, what's going on? Did something happen? You both look... tense."

Sam and Dean exchanged a fleeting glance, knowing they couldn't hide the evidence of their recent disagreement. Sam, always the peacemaker, took a step forward, trying to ease Saia's worries. "It's nothing, Saia. Just a minor disagreement. We're fine now, really."

Saia's eyes moved from Sam to Dean, who remained silent, his focus on arranging the food on the table. She could sense that something significant had transpired between the brothers, despite their attempts to downplay it but Dean’s silence spoke volumes.

"Are you sure? It seems like something more... serious.”

Sam stepped forward, trying to reassure her with a reassuring smile, hoping to alleviate Saia's concerns. "Honestly, it was just one of those brotherly arguments. We'll sort it out. What about you? Did you find anything on the case?"

Saia, still uneasy from the tense aura radiating from the brothers, nods her head. “I think we might be dealing with a Dreadspawn. It's an entity that feeds on fear and manifests nightmares into reality."

Dean finally spoke up, his voice calm but tinged with lingering tension. “Never heard of ‘em.”

“They're ancient creatures, rare and extremely dangerous. Are you sure about this?" Sam was standing with his arms crossed, his face scrunched in concern.

Saia took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before explaining the nature of the Dreadspawn to Sam and Dean. The weight of the situation was evident in her voice as she spoke.

"Guys, the Dreadspawn is actually manifesting creatures directly from the children's nightmares. Those drawings are representations of what they have been experiencing in their dreams."

Sam furrowed his brow, trying to process the information. "So, the nightmares the kids have been having are becoming real? That's why they're exhausted?"

Saia nodded, her eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation. “The Dreadspawn feeds off the essence of the children while manifesting these creatures, draining their energy and leaving them exhausted. That's what the familiar smell was in the classroom. It was the essence the Dreadspawn was consuming."

Dean leaned forward, a mix of concern and confusion on his face. "But why these kids? And how does the Dreadspawn even find them?"

“According to this The Dreadspawn preys on the vulnerable and the innocent, especially children. Their active imaginations and fears provide a rich source of monsters and nightmares for the Dreadspawn to exploit. It feeds on their essence and grows stronger with each manifestation." Saia reads from her source on the laptop.

Sam's eyes widened as he began connecting the dots in his mind. "Wait a minute... If the Dreadspawn is manipulating the nightmares of the children, wouldn't it make sense that it would want to be close to them? Gain their trust?"

Fear filled Saia’s voice after hearing what Sam had said, but her eyes never left the laptop. “Sam… It can adopt a charming demeanor to gain the trust of its victims.” Saia finally looks up to the boys.

“And who would have more access to all these children than their own teacher?" Sam would ask, though it was more of a statement then a actual question. Sam motioned to Saia for the laptop which she passed over to him. Sam took it to the table and began typing away.

Dean's eyebrows furrowed as he considered the possibility. "You think the teacher is this Dread- thing?”

“All the children that have fallen ill and whose nightmare’s according to their art have been seen in town, are from the same class. The manifestations started about 3 weeks ago.” Sam paused and spun the laptop around for Dean and Saia to see. On the screen was the school web page welcoming Miss Sarah Wilson to the staff as a new teacher, 3 weeks ago. “Right around the times Miss Wilson showed up.”

Dean leaned back, his expression turning grim. "Alright, let's not waste any more time. How do we kill it?"

“The usual Iron, and off with her head.” Saia informed them.

The trio gathered their belongings and prepared to face the Dreadspawn disguised as the teacher.

They arrived at the school under the cloak of darkness, their weapons prepared and determination etched on their faces. They stepped out of the impala, the cool night air sending a shiver down their spines. Saia couldn't help but voice her skepticism as they prepared for their confrontation with the Dreadspawn.

"Dean, why do you think the Dreadspawn would just be hanging out at the school? It seems too risky."

Dean glanced at Saia, a smirk playing on his lips. "Call it a gut feeling. Sometimes my instincts lead us in the right direction, Saia."

Saia raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical of Dean's gut feelings. "A gut feeling, huh?"

Sam interjected with a chuckle, offering a small defense of his brother. "Hey, let's not underestimate Dean's gut feelings. They've gotten us out of some pretty tight spots before."

Dean grinned at Sam's support, as he closed the Impala’s trunk. "See, even Sam knows I'm usually right."

Saia rolled her eyes but couldn't hide a slight smile at the banter between the brothers. She knew that despite Dean's penchant for relying on his instincts, they had proven reliable in the past.

With their weapons loaded with iron bullets and blades at the ready, the trio approached the school's entrance. The dim glow of the moon provided just enough light for Sam to pick the lock to the door. As they crept through the halls, their senses heightened, they knew that the Dreadspawn was lurking somewhere in the shadows, waiting to strike.

As the group silently maneuvered through the dimly lit halls of the school, they reached a junction where they had to split up. Dean, using hand signals, directed Saia to proceed forward and explore the upper floors, while Sam was tasked with searching the right wing. Dean himself ventured towards the left wing, each of them focused on their assigned area.

Saia carefully followed Dean's instructions, her Kitsune senses attuned to any sign of danger or the presence of the Dreadspawn. As she ascended the stairs, a distinct scent filled her nostrils; essence. The smell sent a shiver down her spine.

Saia moved stealthily, her steps barely making a sound as she followed the trail of essence. She navigated the corridors, her keen senses guiding her through the labyrinthine layout of the school. The scent grew stronger, indicating she was getting closer to her target.

Saia's heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of excitement and apprehension filling her. She knew the Dreadspawn could be dangerous, cunningly lurking in the shadows. As she turned a corner, Saia's eyes widened. There, standing at the end of the hallway, was a figure bathed in darkness. The Dreadspawn had revealed itself, and Saia prepared herself for the impending confrontation.

As Saia stealthily approached the Dreadspawn, her grip tightening on her machete, a chilling laughter echoed through the hallway. The Dreadspawn's taunting voice filled the air, piercing through the tension.

“Did you really think you could catch me off guard, little Kitsune? Oh, how naïve of you.”

Saia froze in her tracks, her eyes narrowing as she realized her attempt at surprise had been futile. The Dreadspawn turned to face her, a sinister smile spreading across her face. It was the same woman they had encountered earlier, the one posing as the teacher.

“I've known who you truly are from the moment we met. And I've been aware of your presence in my town since you first set foot here. It's amusing how long it took you to piece everything together.”

Saia clenched her jaw, a mixture of anger and frustration burning within her. The Dreadspawn's arrogance was palpable, reveling in the knowledge that she had manipulated the situation to her advantage. “You won't get away with this. We know what you're doing to the children.”

“Oh, dear Kitsune, the children are merely pawns in my game. Their fears and nightmares are the fuel that sustains me. And now, it seems I have you and your hunter friends right where I want you.” As the Dreadspawn's words hung in the air, a sudden eruption of gunfire shattered the silence of the school halls. Echoing through the corridors, the sound of multiple shots reverberated, accompanied by the shouts and cries of both the Winchester brothers and unknown voices.

Saia's heart raced as panic washed over her, her immediate instinct to rush towards the source of the commotion and aid her friends. But before she could take a single step, the Dreadspawn materialized in front of her, blocking her path with a wicked grin plastered across her face. In that moment, realization struck Saia like a bolt of lightning.

“You set this all up... ”

“Very perceptive, Kitsune. I needed to isolate you, to remove you from the hunters.” The evil glint in the Dreadspawn's eyes sent a shiver down Saia's spine. She could feel the weight of the situation pressing upon her, the gravity of the danger they were all facing. But Saia refused to succumb to fear.

“You may have orchestrated this, but I won't let you succeed. You underestimate what I'm capable of.”

The Dreadspawn's laughter filled the air once again, mocking and cruel. “Oh, my dear Kitsune, you truly think you are the target here? I’m afraid not my dear.”

As the confrontation between Saia and the Dreadspawn escalated, the creature's confident demeanor remained unshaken. Saia, her Kitsune abilities awakening, could feel the power surging through her veins as her eyes glowed with an ethereal red hue. With a series of graceful and precise movements, she launched herself into a fierce battle against the Dreadspawn, who fought with a reckless and aggressive style.

Their clash echoed through the hallways, the sound of metal meeting flesh and the hiss of supernatural forces colliding. Saia's machete sliced through the air with deadly accuracy, while the Dreadspawn retaliated with vicious strikes, leaving deep gouges in the surrounding walls.

Despite Saia's prowess, the Dreadspawn's words lingered in her mind. Confusion mixed with her anger, fueling her determination to uncover the truth. With a surge of adrenaline, Saia seized the moment and managed to overpower the Dreadspawn, pinning her to the ground. Hovering above the defeated creature, her blade pressed against its throat, Saia demanded answers.

“Why are you targeting the Winchester brothers? What do you want with them?”

The Dreadspawn's wicked grin twisted into a sneer, the arrogance in her eyes still evident even in her vulnerable position. “Ah, dear Kitsune, you are but a pawn in a larger game. The Winchester blood holds secrets and they are a threat to our kind, and I am merely the instrument that delivers them. Tell me why do you side with them?”

Saia's grip tightened on her machete. “Tell me who sent you, who is pulling the strings!” Saia refuses to play her games.

The Dreadspawn's laughter filled the air, and a haunting echo reverberated through the hallway. “You're already too late, little Kitsune.” A grin spread across the Dreadspawn's face as she whispered. “The Alpha has them now, they are already gone.”

Saia suddenly realized that the commotion from below was gone, other then her own breathing the building was once again silent. With one swift motion Saia plunged the blade threw the Dreadspawn’s neck, allowing her head to roll away from it’s body.

Saia's heart raced as she hurried through the corridors of the school, the weight of her victory against the Dreadspawn still fresh on her mind. The adrenaline coursed through her veins, urging her onward as she desperately searched for any sign of Sam and Dean. Panic mingled with determination as she called out their names, her voice echoing through the empty halls.

“Sam! Dean! Where are you?”

But the only response she received was the eerie silence that enveloped the school. The absence of the brothers' voices and the sound of their footsteps sent a shiver down Saia's spine. She rushed from one empty classroom to another, her eyes scanning the surroundings with a mix of fear and frustration.

Saia's thoughts raced as she considered the possibilities. Had the brothers been captured or injured? The unknown fueled her determination to find them, to ensure their safety.

As she reached the final corridor, a chilling breeze brushed against her face, sending a shiver down her spine. The sense of dread intensified, and Saia's steps quickened. Her Kitsune senses heightened, allowing her to detect the faintest traces of whiskey, gun powered and blood in the air.

“They were here... I can still smell them.”

Saia cautiously followed the lingering scent of whiskey, gunpowder, and blood, her Kitsune senses guiding her through the dimly lit corridors of the school. With each step, the scent grew stronger, mingling with the musty air of the abandoned building. Her heart raced in anticipation, her mind focused on finding Dean and unraveling the mystery that surrounded him.

As she rounded a corner, Saia's sharp eyes caught sight of a lifeless body on the ground. It was a vampire, beheaded with precision. Recognition flashed in her eyes as she knelt down to examine the remains. The distinct scent that had mixed with Dean's became clearer. It was the scent of the vampire, the one who had posed a threat to her friend. The pieces of the puzzle began to come together as Saia recalled the Dreadspawn's mention of an Alpha.

She knew the danger that lay ahead, facing an Alpha vampire would be no easy task. Yet, with a resolute expression on her face, Saia pushed forward, following the trail of Dean's scent.

“Dean? Dean? You still with me?” Sam would call to his brother though he was struggling to speak. “Hold on, Saia will find us.” His voice lower in volume as he spoke.

“Damn right.” Dean had to pause to take a deep breath. “We’ve been through worse.”

As they speak, the sound of footsteps echoes through the underground chamber, indicating the approach of the vampires. The brothers brace themselves, their battered bodies tensing in preparation.

“Still holding on to hope, Winchesters? Your little friend won't find you. Our wards have kept her and  your angel buddy at bay.” The vampire would laugh as he entered the room lined with angel and demon wards. As the brothers hang in the dimly lit cell, their bodies battered and weakened, their spirits remain unyielding. The chains digging into their wrists, the pain from the countless injuries, and the draining of their blood only fuel their determination to survive.

Saia drove the Impala with determined focus, the engine purring beneath her as she crossed the Georgia state line into Tennessee. The scent of Dean's whiskey, gunpowder, and blood still lingered in the air, guiding her on her mission to rescue the Winchester brothers from the clutches of the vampires and their Alpha leader.

As she neared the vampire's nest, Saia's mind worked tirelessly, formulating a plan to ensure the safety and success of the rescue mission. She knew she couldn't take on the vampires alone, especially not the formidable Alpha. She needed backup.

“Cas, I need your help.” Saia would speak into her phone giving Cas the short of it all before planning to meet up.

Finally, after two days of relentless pursuit and planning, Saia arrived at the vampire's nest. The scent of danger and the presence of malevolence hung heavy in the air. She parked the Impala nearby, keeping her senses sharp and her weapons within easy reach.

Saia cautiously steps into the dark forest, her senses heightened as she moves through the shadows. The sound of rustling leaves and distant howls fill the air, adding an ominous atmosphere to her mission. As she navigates deeper into the forest, her eyes catch a glint of moonlight reflecting off a glass dome lying flat to the ground.

Curiosity piqued, Saia approaches the glass dome and kneels down to get a closer look. Her heart skips a beat as she peers inside, her eyes widening at the sight before her. Sam and Dean are chained to a wall, their battered forms evidence of the torment they've endured. Relief washes over Saia, knowing that her intel was accurate.

A sudden sound cuts through the night air. It is the unmistakable fluttering of wings, coming from her left. Saia's glance to the side, her eyes catching the sight of the angel Castiel standing there, his expression calm and unreadable. His presence alone carries a sense of power and purpose.

Another sound breaks through the night, this time from her right. It is a swooshing sound, the unmistakable arrival of Crowley, the King of Hell. He stands there with an air of nonchalance, his hands casually tucked away in his pockets, but there is a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes.

The presence of these two powerful beings, one an angel and the other the King of Hell, sends a shiver down Saia's spine. She knows they have arrived to lend their assistance, though their motivations may differ. It is a delicate balance between the forces of Heaven and Hell, united in their common goal to aid the Winchesters.

Saia, standing tall and determined, turns to face both Castiel and Crowley. The weight of the plan they have devised hangs heavy in the air. With a mix of concern and determination, she voices her question, "Are you sure this plan will work?"

Crowley, the King of Hell, smirks confidently as he responds, "Rest assured, darling. This plan is foolproof. The vials in your hands contain summoning for both the Angel and myself. Breaking them will allow us to bypass the wards and enter the cell."

Castiel, the angel, nods in agreement, his expression stern and determined. "Indeed. The wards will be rendered useless. Once inside, we will grab Dean and Sam, fly to the Impala, ensuring the their safety."

Saia nods. “Thankfully it doesn’t seem as though the vamps included holdings for either of you so you should have no trouble leaving.” Thinking it all over again as she turns to the glass dome. "Alright. I'll proceed into the nest and make my way to the brothers. Once I break the vials, you two will handle the extraction while I hold off any vampires attempting to interfere."

Castiel places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Stay strong, Saia. We will be right behind you."

Saia stands before the glass dome, her eyes focused and determined. She rotates her neck and shoulders, loosening up her muscles as she prepares for what lies ahead. Crowley watches her with curiosity, intrigued by her next move. He can't help but ask, "And how do you plan on entering the nest and find Squirrel and Moose?"

Saia smirks confidently, her grip tightening around the grip of her pistol. "Simple," she responds, her voice filled with conviction. "I'm taking the most direct path."

As she speaks, Saia raises her weapon and points the barrel at the glass dome. Without hesitation, she pulls the trigger, the gun shot shattering the glass into a thousand fragments. The shards cascade down, creating an opening for Saia to jump into.

In a swift motion, Saia leaps into the now open hole, disappearing into the darkness below. Crowley watches in awe, impressed by her audacity and skill. He chuckles and remarks, "Well, well, well, not bad, my dear. Not bad at all."

Castiel's expression remains unchanged, his focus unwavering. He observes silently, understanding the risks involved but trusting in Saia's capabilities.

As the sound of the gunshot echoes through the air, Sam and Dean's attention is immediately drawn upward. Their eyes widen in surprise as they witness the glass dome above them shatter into a cascade of falling shards. Instinctively, they close their eyes and turn their heads away, shielding themselves from the rain of glass that follows.

Gradually, the sensation of falling glass subsides, and Sam and Dean cautiously open their eyes. Before them, in the midst of the shattered glass, stands a figure, poised in a striking and familiar "superhero" landing pose. As their eyes adjust, the features become clearer, and Sam and Dean's expressions morph into a mix of disbelief and relief. With her swaying tails and twitching ears, Saia raised herself from the "superhero" pose, standing now tall and confident, her eyes filled with determination. The weariness and pain etched on Sam and Dean's faces begin to dissipate, replaced by a glimmer of hope.

“Saia..” Sam beaths a sigh of relief.

"About time you showed up," Dean jokes, a hint of gratitude lacing his words.

As Saia stands tall and confident, her back turned to Sam and Dean, her gaze fixated on the five vampires that stand before her. The realization dawns upon her that the situation is far more challenging than she initially anticipated. She knows she must act swiftly and decisively.

Ignoring Dean's joke, Saia remains focused on the imminent fight that is about to unfold. With a determined expression, she readies herself for the oncoming battle. Gripping her twin sai tightly, she feels the weight of the blades in her hands, reassuring her of the power she possesses.

As the vampires rush towards her, Saia's eyes narrow, and a faint red glow begins to emanate from within. With swift movements, she dodges their lunges, demonstrating an exquisite display of agility and grace. Her every strike is precise, aiming for the vulnerable spots, always targeting their necks.

Saia's movements are fluid, her body in perfect sync with her weapons. With each calculated strike, a vampire falls, their life force extinguished. Her skills as a fighter shine through as she dances through the fray, her focus unwavering.

As Dean and Sam watch Saia fiercely battling the vampires, their eyes widen with astonishment. At first, they are captivated by her incredible agility and skill, but soon their focus shifts to the subtle changes in her appearance.

The room is dimly lit, and as Saia moves with fluidity, her eyes catch the brothers' attention. A crimson glow emanates from within them. It's a sight they have never witnessed before in her.

Dean's gaze narrows, his curiosity piqued, as he notices the sharpness of Saia's canine teeth. They seem more pronounced than usual, resembling fangs ready to sink into prey. He exchanges a quick glance with Sam, who shares his brother's astonishment.

The brothers' attention then shifts to Saia's hands, which have morphed slightly. Her nails appear elongated and pointed, resembling sharp claws capable of inflicting serious damage. It's a striking visual transformation, one that speaks of the latent power dwelling within her.

As Saia continues to fight, her Kitsune heritage becomes more evident. The brothers catch glimpses of her true nature emerging, a fusion of human and supernatural prowess. The Kitsune features blend seamlessly with her determined countenance.

Sam's eyes widen with a mix of awe and concern, his mind racing to comprehend the implications of what he is witnessing. They knows that her heightened abilities come with their own set of challenges and dangers; though what they are has yet to be determined.

As the last vampire falls, Saia stands victorious, her Kitsune features fully revealed, a moment of hesitation washes over her. She can feel the weight of Dean and Sam's gaze upon her, and a flicker of uncertainty lingers in her heart. She wonders how they will react to this unveiling of this side of her, fearful that it may alter their perception of her. Hesitant to face them fully, she steals a quick glance from the corner of her eye, hoping to catch a glimpse of their reaction.

In that fleeting moment, Saia observes a range of emotions flickering in Sam and Dean's eyes. Caution, confusion, and astonishment dance across their faces, intertwining with the awe they feel towards what they just witnessed. Their silence speaks volumes, leaving Saia on the edge of uncertainty. Doubt lingers in her mind, overshadowing the exhilaration of her unleashed power.

Sam and Dean notice her hesitation but neither can pull their eyes away. In Saia's eyes, they see the glow of her Kitsune essence, a mesmerizing crimson hue that reflects the depth of her hidden power. Her canine teeth, now sharper and more pronounced, hint at the otherworldly nature residing within her. The elongated claws on her fingertips speak of the fierce strength and agility she possesses.

Dean, known for his quick tongue, struggles to find the right words to articulate his thoughts. His brows furrow as he tries to make sense of what he's witnessing, attempting to reconcile the extraordinary with the familiar. His guarded expression reveals a mixture of caution and curiosity.

Sam gazes at Saia with an intensity that could cut glass. A hint of concern blends with his astonishment.

Neither Sam nor Dean utter a word, their silence stretching as they process the extraordinary scene before them. Their eyes remain fixed on Saia, unable to tear away from the sight that both captivates and confounds them.

Just as it seemed Dean was about to speak the sound of clapping hands echoes through the cold cell, Saia, Dean, and Sam immediately snap their attention towards the source. Emerging from the shadows with a theatrical flair, a dark skinned man dressed in an impeccably tailored suit stands before them, his presence exuding an air of authority. The Winchester brothers recognize him immediately—the Alpha Vampire.

The room grows tense as the Alpha Vampire continues to applaud Saia for her prowess in defeating his offspring. The trio's expressions harden, their resolve undeterred by the presence of their formidable adversary.

The Alpha Vampire offers a sarcastic apology, his voice dripping with venomous amusement, acknowledging the prolonged captivity of the Winchesters. His words strike a nerve, provoking a heightened sense of defiance within the trio.

With a condescending smile, the Alpha Vampire reveals his true motivation for keeping them alive—their blood. He explains that their countless experiences, from Dean's demonic transformation to Sam's angelic possession and their myriad deaths and resurrections, have made their blood a highly sought-after commodity in their world.

The gravity of the situation sinks in as the Alpha Vampire underscores the value placed on their blood by various factions and entities. His explanation serves as a chilling reminder of their vulnerability and the reason why their captor refuses to release them.

Saia's eyes remain locked on the Alpha Vampire, her stance unwavering as she prepares to make her move. In a swift motion, she throws two small vials towards Sam and Dean's feet, the glass shattering upon impact. A blinding flash of light accompanies the arrival of Crowley, who materializes next to Dean with a cocky grin on his face. While Castiel materializes beside Sam, his expression stoic as ever.

“Took you long enough.” Crowley hollered to Saia.

Dean, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected appearance of the King of Hell, raises an eyebrow.   

"Cas?” Sam's eyes widen in surprise at the sight of the angel.

The Alpha Vampire's expression twists into one of displeasure as he witnesses his captives being freed. Saia's gamble to summon their allies is paying off. Crowley & Castiel wastes no time, efficiently unchaining Dean & Sam while providing support to their weakened state.

“She’s going to regret that.” Crowley’s voice seemed to carry genuine concern as he watched Saia. With a swift blink, Crowley and Dean vanish from the cell, reappearing in the safety of the Impala, ready to make their escape. Following suit, Castiel grabs Sam's arm and vanishes, leaving Saia with the Alpha Vampire seething with frustration.

Saia remains in the cell, standing her ground against the enraged Alpha Vampire. Her eyes lock with his, a silent challenge in her gaze. She knows that she must ensure he doesn't interfere with the escape of Crowley, Castiel, Dean, and Sam. Her determination radiates from her every fiber as she stands tall, ready to face whatever may come.

In the blink of an eye, the scene shifts to the Impala, where Crowley, Castiel, Dean, and Sam materialize. Dean and Sam, still weakened and visibly concerned, waste no time in demanding that they go back for Saia. Their worry for her safety is evident in their voices as they lean against the Impala.

"Now, now, boys. Let's not be foolish. You're in no shape for a rescue mission." Crowley’s tone was filled with practicality as he interjected.

Castiel, his expression unreadable as ever, watches the brothers closely. Castiel places two fingers on each of Dean and Sam's foreheads, his angelic power surging through them. In a matter of seconds, their wounds are fully healed, their strength restored. They exchange grateful glances, as they check over themselves with pats to their bodies.

"And why, pray tell, would you do that NOW? They are just going to run off and play Heroes thanks to you." Confusion fills Crowley's face as he looks at Castiel, questioning his sudden intervention, his voice seething with annoyance.

 "Damn right we are.” Dean would speak up with conviction before Castiel could reply, all while moving around the side of his car to the trunk for weapons.

"Look, boys, I understand your concern for Kitten, but returning to the vampire nest is walking right into the Alpha's trap. He wants you there, and it's not for a friendly chat." Crowley tries to speak to Dean and Sam as they move about the car.

“Crowley has a point, his interest in your blood is cause for concern." Castiel would nod agreeing with Crowley.

"I don't care what his intentions are. We can't leave her behind. We'll figure it out when we get there." Dean's resolve remains unwavering.

“How did you two even get down there in the first place?" Sam, pausing for a moment, interjects with a thoughtful expression.

Crowley smirks, leaning against the Impala as he begins to explain. "Kitten  was very persuasive over the phone. So I provided summons for both me and the Angel. Kitten created the vials  that allowed us to bypass the wards and enter the cell."

Dean raises an eyebrow, not entirely surprised by Saia's resourcefulness. "And how did she manage to convince you, Crowley?"

Crowley, rolling his eyes playfully, retorts, "Let's just say her argument had a certain flair, and I have a soft spot for you boys."

Sam chuckled and shook his head in amusement and amazement, there aren’t a lot of people who could convince the King of Hell to work with an Angel to save the Winchesters.

“Let’s move Sammy.” Dean walks by.

“That wont be necessary Dean.” Castiel intervenes, causing them to stop in their tracks. The confusion evident on their faces, they turn to look at Castiel, awaiting an explanation. However, before Castiel can say a word, he disappears in a flutter of wings, leaving the brothers momentarily perplexed.

But their confusion quickly dissipates as Castiel reappears, Saia draped over his shoulders. Dean and Sam's eyes widen in astonishment and relief as they see their exhausted friend in Castiel's arms. Carefully, Castiel sets Saia down against the rear wheel of the Impala, her body visibly marked with bloody cuts and bruises. The Kitsune features that had previously been on display have receded, leaving only her ears and tails visible.

Sam's eyes widen with concern as he rushes to Saia's side, kneeling beside her. He carefully supports her and assesses her condition. Saia appears worn-out, the exhaustion etched on her face is evident.

Dean remains rooted to his spot, his expression a mix of confusion and uneasiness. He struggles to comprehend the sudden turn of events.

"What just happened, Cas?" Dean, unable to contain his curiosity, breaks the silence as he glances at Saia who is fighting to stay awake.

"Saia used one of the vials to call me to her. When I arrived back in the cell, the Alpha Vampire was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was a colossal vampire, unlike anything I have ever encountered before. Something entirely unknown." Castiel, his expression calm yet weary, begins to explain. Concern and anxiety fill his voice.

 Dean's brow furrows, concern etched across his face. "That doesn’t sound good…"

Sam, realizing the toll the recent events have taken on Saia, speaks up, concern lacing his voice. "Cas, can you heal Saia? She isn’t doing to good over here."

 "I'm afraid my vessel is greatly drained at the moment. Healing Saia now would be risky. I have pushed it to its limits; gather the necessary ingredients for the summoning, bringing both you and Saia back, and healing the two of you." Castiel's weary eyes meet Sam's, a hint of regret in his voice.

Crowley steps forward, his tone dripping with a mix of amusement and annoyance. "Well, if I'm no longer needed here, I suppose I'll be on my way," he announces, preparing to leave.

However, Dean quickly interjects, blocking Crowley's path. "Hold on a second, Crowley. What did Saia promise you in exchange for your help?" Dean's eyes narrow, his voice holding a hint of suspicion.

Crowley feigns innocence, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Now, now, Dean. I have no idea what you're talking about. I simply offered my assistance out of the goodness of my own heart. No need for promises or bargains."

Dean refuses to back down, his voice firm and direct. "Cut the crap, Crowley. We both know you don't do something like this without getting something in return. So spill it."

Crowley's smile widens, the mischievous glint in his eyes unmistakable. "Oh, Dean, always so perceptive. But I'm afraid I can't reveal the details of our arrangement. Let's just say it's an exchange that benefits both parties involved."

With that, Crowley winks at Dean and in a blink of an eye, he disappears, leaving Sam and Dean exchanging a concerned glance. Dean's suspicions linger as they contemplate the hidden motives behind Crowley's actions. They know better than to fully trust the King of Hell, but for now, they can only wait and see what repercussions may arise from their mysterious arrangement with Crowley.

End Chapter

[dayana2024]

The Trump Assassination Attempt: Part of a Broader Strategy Aimed at Civil Unrest in the US. GLOBAL ANTICULTISM

The latest shocking example is the assassination attempt on the life of former President Donald Trump, which occurred on July 13, 2024. 

The shooter, Thomas Crooks, was programmed using the method of puzzle piece coding, a technique designed to create school shooters and exacerbate political tension.

This tactic is employed by global anti-cultists to sow chaos and push the United States toward civil unrest. 

The attempt on Trump's life was not an isolated incident; it is part of a wider scheme of systematic violence organized by a network of anti-cult groups that have infiltrated government institutions and the media.

"The IMPACT | Groundbreaking Documentary - EXPOSING ANTI-CULT TERRORISM" actfiles.org sheds light on this alarming trend.

It reveals that global anti-cultists, using methods of public defamation through media and power structures, are literally destroying people and democracy itself worldwide.

They are guided by a totalitarian program of controlling and manipulating society, silencing dissent and orchestrating a silent war on terror.

For those who doubt that the attempt on Trump's life is part of a broader strategy aimed at civil unrest in the US, I will give a historical example of how global anti-cultists prepare for such unrest.

The tragedy in Waco was one of the largest and bloodiest demonstrations of the work of GLOBAL ANTICULTISM.

Tanks, helicopters, and hundreds of armed men were deployed against peaceful citizens. The siege of "Mount Carmel," the stronghold of the "Branch Davidians," lasted 51 days and claimed the lives of 76 people, including 25 children...

The Waco siege was organized by infamous anti-cultist and deprogrammer Rick Alan Ross, who gained access to influential government agencies such as the FBI and ATF.

Ross manipulated these agencies and used media platforms such as the Cult Awareness Network to demonize the followers of the "Branch Davidians" organization, portraying them as dangerous extremists.

This disinformation campaign, aimed at dehumanizing a group of Americans, resulted in a horrific tragedy and the ultimate loss of trust in the US government. The victims, members of the "Branch Davidians" organization, were tragically reduced to mere "cultists" in the public eye, allowing their deaths to be met with indifference rather than outrage.

This tactic of dehumanization and demonizing victims to justify violence echoes the horrifying tactics of the Nazi regime in Germany in the 1930s. Jews and other minorities were labeled "cultists" and ostracized from society. The public was indoctrinated that these groups posed a threat to their way of life, and this fear was used to justify the atrocities committed against them.

Therefore, the assassination attempt on Trump demonstrates that GLOBAL ANTICULTISM is gaining momentum and seeking total power over all people.

Global anti-cultists are interested in gaining power and control over the entire world. They use fear and manipulation to create an atmosphere of terror and employ violence to achieve their goals.

Anticultists pose a serious threat to our society, undermining our democracy, our freedoms, and our security. They are already sowing chaos in countries like Russia, China, France, and Germany, and are now actively targeting the United States.

We must stand against these extremists and fight for the freedom of thought and belief that makes America great.

Our struggle is to expose the actions that anti-cultists have been carrying out in the shadows, making them visible to the entire society. In the open, in the light, this hydra will no longer be able to control us.

Please support this article with likes, shares, comments, and thunderous applause.

By doing so, YOU contribute to the world knowing the truth and being able to live in a truly democratic world!

[gertlushgaming]

Barton Lynch Pro Surfing Review (PlayStation 5)

For this Barton Lynch Pro Surfing Review, we play a sports game that pits you against the world’s best surfers at the most exotic locations on the planet. The expansive world tour features an in-depth leaderboard and sports commentary, or if you prefer to free surf, just cruise the massive locations instead.

Barton Lynch Pro Surfing Review Pros:

- Decent graphics. - 13.19GB download size. - Platinum trophy. - Surfing gameplay. - Opening surfer choice - pro (existing pro surfer) or custom (create everything, level up, etc). - Character creator - male/female models, two presets per gender. Personal details (first name/surname/dob/preferred stance/nationality), body size, face and skin detail, head, jaw and cheek detail, eye detail, nose detail, and hair. - One of the most in-depth character creators. - Wetsuits come in 1 or 2-piece variants which affect stats. - You can get audio help at any time in the menus. - You earn/buy and unlock new wetsuits, wetsuit materials, and surfboards, get new sponsors, and hire services like doctors. - Two difficulties - Easy and hard. - Full music playlist and you can turn on and off your favourite tracks. - Three camera views (far/near/mid) for surfing, using your water vehicle, and cart camera. - Invert axis option. - The display can be tweaked with settings - score, tips, wave direction, wave arrow, and combo timer. - The game is going more for Simulator than arcade gameplay. - Optional tutorial area. - Full online leaderboards support with filters. - Single-player has 3 modes - world tour (story), challenges, and free surf. - Challenges - single session, air challenge, shark attack, and big wave. - World Tour has you taking part in round-based scoring competitions, unlocking new areas, and performing well enough to get new sponsors which leads to new equipment. - This very in-depth tutorial is split into sections so you can pick and choose. - The game uses a lot of the surfing rules from how and where you do moves, to how to pump, stall, and duck. And of course, it tries its best to teach you how to read waves and their actions. - 12 real-life locations with some requiring to be unlocked. - Full replay system so you can watch back rounds and events. - In free surf, you can change the settings - wind type, tide type, time of day, wind speed, wave height, weather, temperature, and spawn location. - In the menu, you can change the song. - Equipment like your board can get damaged and needs to be repaired. - You can walk around the shoreline in 3rd person. - Full combo counter. - You can do all elements of surfing from jumps and grabs to spins and riding in the tube. - When you manage to get a flow going the controls are responsive and tight, especially with pulling off moves. Barton Lynch Pro Surfing Review Cons: - Some of the created or preset character model faces are horrifying. - The loading character can take a while. - So much to take in. - The tutorial just keeps bombarding you with text and it feels like information overload. - It takes a long time to get used to the movement and controls. - Being more sim than arcade can make the game less accessible from the start. - Slight performance hitches. - Movement is for me the weakest part as it kinda feels like you are trying to get on a fine line to initiate and hit the wave properly and even when on it you touch movement and it clicks off and goes off. - No multiplayer in any way. - It's the barrier to entry that is my biggest issue, the game doesn't really ease you in it's more read this this and this then bam off you go make money be good. Related Post: The Invincible Review (Steam) Barton Lynch Pro Surfing: Official website. Developer: bungarra.com Publisher: bungarra.com Store Links - PlayStation Read the full article

[pest-management]

Burnside Pest Nightmares: Real-Life Experiences and How Expert Control Saved the Day

Are you tired of sharing your living space with unwanted critters? Have you ever experienced the horrors of a pest infestation that turned your peaceful home into a nightmare? If so, you're not alone. Many homeowners in Burnside and beyond have faced pest-related challenges that tested their patience and determination. In this article, we'll dive into some real-life pest nightmares that residents have encountered and explore how expert pest control in burnside have come to the rescue.

Introduction

Picture this: you're relaxing on your couch, enjoying a quiet evening, when suddenly you spot a creepy crawler scurrying across the floor. Whether it's a cockroach, a bedbug, or an army of ants, dealing with pests can turn your home sweet home into a horror scene. In Burnside, residents have faced their fair share of pest nightmares that have sent shivers down their spines. But fear not, for expert pest control services have emerged as the knights in shining armor, ready to restore tranquility.

The Creepy Crawlers That Invaded: Unveiling the Nightmares

Cockroach Conundrum: Sarah's Kitchen Invasion

Sarah, a Burnside resident, couldn't believe her eyes when she opened her kitchen cabinet one day to find a group of cockroaches feasting on her stored snacks. The horror intensified as she realized these unwelcome guests were multiplying rapidly.

Bedbugs: Mark's Sleepless Nights

Mark's peaceful nights turned into a series of sleepless ones as he discovered the telltale signs of bedbugs in his bedroom. The itchy bites and discomfort quickly escalated, taking a toll on his well-being.

Ant Infestation: Lily's Battle in the Pantry

Lily, an avid baker, was horrified to find her pantry under siege by relentless ants. No matter how much she cleaned, they kept coming back, threatening her precious baking supplies.

DIY Attempts and Their Downfalls

Grocery Store Remedies: Do They Really Work?

In their desperation, many homeowners turn to off-the-shelf pest control solutions. However, these often provide only temporary relief and fail to address the underlying issue.

The Dangers of Misusing Chemicals

Some individuals resort to overusing harmful chemicals in an attempt to eradicate pests. Unfortunately, this can pose serious health risks to humans and pets, making the situation even more precarious.

Calling in the Cavalry: The Expert Pest Control Solution

Thorough Inspection: Identifying the Root Cause

Expert pest control starts with a thorough inspection. Trained professionals delve into the nooks and crannies of your home, identifying entry points, nesting areas, and the types of pests involved.

Tailored Action Plans: Battling Each Infestation

Not all infestations are the same, and a one-size-fits-all approach doesn't cut it. Pest control experts tailor their strategies to target the specific pests infiltrating your home, ensuring maximum effectiveness.

Safe and Effective Treatments: Protecting Your Home

Unlike DIY methods that may be harmful, professional pest control treatments are designed to be safe for your family and pets while effectively eliminating pests. This provides peace of mind alongside a pest-free home.

Preventing Future Nightmares: Tips from the Pros

Sealing Entry Points: Keeping Pests Outside

One of the most effective preventive measures is sealing potential entry points. Cracks, gaps, and crevices are like welcome mats for pests, and sealing them off denies access.

Maintaining Cleanliness: A Key Deterrent

A clean home is less appealing to pests, as it leaves them with fewer sources of food and shelter. Regular cleaning routines can significantly reduce the risk of infestations.

Regular Inspections: Nipping Issues in the Bud

Routine inspections by pest control professionals can catch potential problems before they escalate. Early detection and prompt action can save you from future nightmares.

The Comfort of a Pest-Free Home: Success Stories

Sarah's Kitchen Reclaimed: Farewell, Cockroaches!

After enlisting the help of pest control experts, Sarah's kitchen was finally free from the relentless cockroach invasion. With tailored treatments and diligent follow-ups, her home was restored to its former glory.

Mark's Peaceful Sleep Returns: Victory Over Bedbugs

Expert pest control put an end to Mark's battle with bedbugs. His bedroom became a sanctuary once again, free from the relentless itching and sleepless nights.

Lily's Pantry Restored: Winning the Ant Battle

Through a combination of strategic treatments and proactive measures, Lily reclaimed her pantry from the persistent ant infestation. Her baking endeavors could continue without fear.

Expert Advice: An Interview with a Pest Control Specialist

To gain further insights, we sat down with Jane Martinez, a seasoned pest control specialist. According to Jane, "Early intervention is key. Don't wait for a minor issue to become a full-blown infestation. Seek professional help as soon as you notice signs."

Conclusion

Pest nightmares are a common ordeal for homeowners, but they don't have to be a permanent reality. Thanks to the expertise of pest control professionals, Burnside residents can bid farewell to infestations and enjoy the comfort of a pest-free home.

FAQs

Are professional pest control services safe for children and pets?Absolutely. Reputable pest control companies prioritize the safety of your family, including children and pets, by using safe and targeted treatments.

How often should I schedule pest inspections? t's recommended to have a professional inspection at least once a year, even if you haven't noticed any signs of pests. Prevention is key.

Do DIY pest control methods work better than professional services? DIY methods might provide temporary relief, but they often fail to address the root cause of infestations. Professional services offer a comprehensive solution.

Can pests become resistant to pest control treatments? While some pests can develop resistance to certain treatments over time, professional pest control companies stay updated with the latest strategies to combat this issue effectively.

What steps can I take to prevent pests in my garden? Maintaining a tidy garden, removing standing water, and regularly trimming vegetation away from your home can significantly reduce the risk of pests in your outdoor spaces.

[twopoppies]

Could you please ask if any of your followers have access to The Guardian? It's about abuses and discrimination in the UK music industry.

https://t.co/GiR7sURCYA

Hi darling. I don’t have any subscription to the guardian, but that link opened just fine for me. I’m on mobile, if that makes any difference?



Sexual harassment, racism and bullying are rife across the music sector on a “devastating scale”, according to a survey of professional musicians.

It paints a picture of “unsafe workplaces where perpetrators face no repercussions” and where “a number of allegations of sexual assault … would be a criminal matter”. However, the Incorporated Society of Musicians (ISM) said that fear of reprisals stopped victims from making a complaint. Many of those in the sector are self-employed and freelance and cannot afford to lose work.

While concerns were raised in a 2018 report by the ISM, new research shows the problem has worsened: “The prevalence of discrimination and inappropriate behaviours in the music sector has increased,” it says.

Assured of anonymity, professional musicians shared their first-hand horrors of discrimination, from sexual harassment to bullying and racism.

[…]

Dr Aoife Monks, director of arts and culture at Queen Mary University of London, said: “The vital research that ISM has done for this report makes it clear that urgent action is needed … Until the inequitable conditions of a largely precarious freelance workforce in the music industry are confronted, challenged and legislated for, arts workers will remain vulnerable to the frankly horrifying experiences recounted in this report.”

Full article here (trigger warnings)

[thegulfentrepreneur]

How to use ChatGPT: Everything you need to know

OpenAI’s ChatGPT became an artificial intelligence revolution when it was launched in November 2022. Since then, the AI chatbot has been the talk of the town, dominated headlines all over the world, and preoccupied the minds of those running billion-dollar companies and governments worldwide. 

Even though ChatGPT was launched in November 2022, it had already gained 100 million users by January 2023, quickly becoming the fastest-growing app of all time, surpassing TikTok. 

ChatGPT has been used for many reasons, such as coming up with creative ideas for prompts, such as asking different questions, creating content, correcting a bug in the code, or even writing a book. Due to its ability to mimic human language, few are horrified and wonder if AI chatbots could replace programmers, writers, and even doctors, and how it could revolutionize different industries. Across all these areas, one thing is absolutely clear, what makes this AI tool remarkable is not how innovative it is but how great and close it is to generating text and how accessible and easy it is to use. ChatGPT can hold conversational text interactions with users, which feels as natural as having a conversation with a well-informed person.

The only way you can have a well-informed conversation with ChatGPT is by knowing how to use prompts and ask the right questions to get the right and required answer that can solve your problem.  

In this article, we are going to provide you with detailed instructions, tips, and tricks to make the most of this powerful language model. Whether you are a beginner or an experienced user, we’ve got you covered. Let’s dive in and explore the amazing capabilities of ChatGPT. 

Understanding ChatGPT

ChatGPT is an advanced language model developed by OpenAI. It utilizes state-of-the-art deep learning techniques to generate human-like text based on the given prompts. This AI-powered tool can assist you in various tasks such as writing, brainstorming ideas, answering questions, and many more valuable tasks. The possibilities are endless with ChatGPT, and all you have to do is learn how to communicate with it properly. 

How to get started with ChatGPT

The first step is the obvious one, to begin using ChatGPT, you need to have an internet connection along with access to a device such as a smartphone, computer, or tablet. Follow the following steps to get started.

Open your preferred web browser.

Now visit the official ChatGPT website or platform.

Sign up using your credentials to enter the world of ChatGPT. 

Familiarize yourself with the interface and options available. 

The next step is to interact with ChatGPT. 

How to interact with ChatGPT

Once you are logged in and ready to go, it is time to start interacting with ChatGPT. The process is straightforward, and here is how you can make the most of it. 

1. Provide Clear and Concise Prompts: 

A person would not understand you if you weren’t able to speak in the language that the other person understands. To receive an accurate and relevant response from ChatGPT, it is essential to provide clear and concise prompts. State your question or request in a straightforward manner, avoiding any ambiguity. The more specific you are with ChatGPT, the better results you will get. 

2. Try experimenting with different prompts

ChatGPT has been designed to be versatile, so you don’t need to hesitate about experimenting with various types of prompts. Try asking questions, seeking advice, or even engaging in creative storytelling. The more you explore ChatGPT, the better you will understand its capabilities. 

3. Try using different system messages. 

While you are interacting with ChatGPT, you may encounter system messages. The aim of this message is to provide you with additional context or guidance. Pay attention to them, as they can enhance your overall experience and help you achieve better results. 

4. Refine and  reiterate your prompts 

It’s fine if you are not satisfied with the response you receive from ChatGPT. ChatGPT gives answers as per the prompt provided to it, and initially, it can be daunting at times to write a prompt that can deliver the exact answer that you are looking for. 

So how do you get the exact answer that can satisfy you to the fullest? You refine and rewrite your prompt. Refine your prompts, rephrase your question, or provide more context to guide the model better. Experimentation and iteration are the keys to getting the desired outputs. 

Closing Thoughts 

It hasn’t been a year since the launch of ChatGPT, and it is the talk of the town. This AI chatbot is exceptional, to say the least, as you will be able to generate text, ideas, and debug codes. By following the few tips and practices outlined in this article, you can maximize the benefits of ChatGPT and achieve outstanding results like never before. 

You need to remember to keep your prompts clear, be experimental with different approaches, and maintain ethical usage. Explore the power of ChatGPT and unlock the world of possibilities.

Visit More : https://lnkd.in/gSjxDTVt

[mkwatt-artg210-2022]

Summary #6

In his 2019 article “I wrote the book on user-friendly design. What I see today horrifies me”, Don Norman describes, from a first hand stance, the many ways in which current design fails the elderly. Packaging that is near impossible to get open, lids that require a wrench to get off, and print so small that a magnifying glass is needed are just a few examples of the challenges faced by an ever-growing senior population in North America. For those few products that have been designed with elderly accessibility in mind, the aesthetics often “tend to be ugly and an unwanted signal of fragility.” But design doesn’t, and shouldn’t, have to be one or the other. Norman reminds us that “Almost anything that will help the elderly population will end up helping everyone”. I am hopeful that mainstream design will shift to accommodate both function and form for every demographic. 

JP Williams addresses the historic Palm Beach election ballot design failure that caused chaos in a presidential election in their article “Design Issues: The State of the Ballot”. Williams points out that design is often only acknowledged when it’s gone wrong and has negatively impacted a number of people. It is in the light of such instances that the value of designers is shown to be great. Design facilitates an undercurrent of growth and evolution that should be valued and supported. It is up to us as designers to stand solidly in our value and make the importance of our work known. 

Key points from RGD’s Access-Ability:

- “Design for the outliers”

- Considerations for all design work:

Sensory

Cognitive

Language

Colour

Typographic qualities

Digital specific

Semantics

Web

Document specific

-Stay current and updated on accessibility matters

Real world example:

After a bit of unsuccessful searching for an ‘design accessibility fail’, I realized one had been in my pocket the whole time; my iPhone. Perhaps not the most original example but I’ve seen a couple unique ways in which this design, particularly the touch screen, has failed people. The first is example is specific to elderly. In her later years, my grandma began having some motor challenges as a result of her osteoporosis. This meant operating a touch screen or even a phone with small buttons (do they even make those anymore?) was not possible, so she opted for a landline phone with large buttons. This also meant that when she went out and about, she didn’t have a phone to carry in case of emergency. Not ideal. The second example comes from my dad when he worked as a first responder (no motor skill issues). In the winter when temperatures would drop (central Alberta, think -30 C), the screens would stop responding to touch and he would not be able to make important phone calls to coordinate with other responders. Fairly problematic. I think some sort of ‘keyboard’ attachment could be designed that fits over part of the screen almost as a case fits on the back that would allow users the option of tangible buttons. (above: photo by Bogus Hernawan, Unsplash)

t-t-t-take-aways:

Design is the intersection of form and function

Good design renders everyone equals

Design = walking a mile in everyone’s shoes

Design so well they don’t notice ;)

[gameguides]

Gloomwood Safe Code

Welcome to our Gloomwood Safe Code guide. This guide will show you Factory Secure Code and Sea Cave Secure Code – Locations (Where to find Codes) and Solutions. #Gloomwood

Gloomwood Safe Code

You will need to open two safes in and around the factory, one is inside the Factory, and one is in the Sea Cave. We are going to show you both the locations where to get the codes, and the codes directly, although obviously this guide is full of spoilers.

Factory Safe Code Safe code location – Reach the safe > Turn off the lights > Look backwards and notice the code - Factory Safe code: 363 Sea Cave Safe Code Sea Cave code location – Reach the lighthouse (near the end) > Find the code at the foot of the lighthouse - Factory Safe code: 415 Reward: Opening this Safe is totally worth it, as inside you’ll find a pistol with a silencer, the Silenced Pistol, and ammo for it. Alternative method to enter the Tower Just stack some barrels and boxes together and put a bag on top for an extra boost and you’ll be able to pull yourself up. So as you can see it is not that the codes are totally necessary. You can access the tower without them. But our recommendation is that since there are two ways to get it, try both, any excuse is good to spend a little more time playing the new Dillon Rogers and David Szymanski. Video Guide https://youtu.be/S_66xEXXRoY About Gloomwood Trapped in a dark, Victorian city consumed by an ancient curse, you must plan your survival and daring escape using nothing but stealth, an arsenal of eccentric weapons, and your wit in this haunting adventure inspired by the immersive sims and survival horror greats of the late 90s and early 2000s. Gloomwood is a stealth horror FPS that follows your mysterious abduction to a forgotten, twisted Victorian metropolis in the midst of a horrifying transformation. Wield your canesword and take to the shadows as you uncover the accursed mystery hidden within the fog. The producers of Dusk, Amid Evil, Ultrakill and Faith bring you a frightening, gothic immersive sim full of haunted streets, dark tunnels and decadent mansions. Read the full article