(Original Post)
Inspired by this worldbuilding post, let's make some fucked up moons. This obviously isn't the sort of list that would have a lot of reusability (unless you're in a campaign with a lot of traveling between planets or mortal planes), but it's something that was on my mind long ago and I figured now's as good a time as any. Many of these could be the basis of an entire setting, and I really really wanna do it :(
Also, as you read these, consider how the moon appears in Earth's symbols and designs. A world with funky moons will have them show up differently in heraldry, flags, etc. than in our world. Not to mention the religious significance many of these would have.
1 - The moon has a massive bite out of it.
2 - The moon is heavily damaged, with debris floating all around. Some legends say it was a giant egg that hatched the sun god (of the first dragon, or the tarasque, or the creator god). Other legends say it was destroyed in a war or by a god.
3 - The moon emits very bright light, while the sun projects darkness.
4 - The moon projects darkness.
5 - Many many lights are visible on the moon, as if it is covered in cities.
6 - The moon has a thick atmosphere of some color, with swirling clouds that are looked to by some cultures for omens.
7 - The moon is a planet; the world we live on is its moon.
8 - The moon is extremely close to the ground. Its gravity creates colossal waves, leaving most coastal regions too difficult to inhabit. Airships have managed to reach the moon at midnight, and it is explored instead of the sea.
9 - The moon is quite close to the planet and has a giant space elevator dangling off and into our atmosphere. People have reached it from the highest mountains.
10 - The moon is said to be an egg.
11 - The moon has a kind face.
12 - The moon has a terrifying face.
13 - Just as the sun blinds those who look at it too long, the moon drives them mad.
14 - The moon was completely destroyed long ago and now forms a ring. Meteorites from it have fallen ever since.
15 - There are a large number of moons arranged in a circle.
16 - The moon blinks as if it were an eye, causing brief moments of total darkness throughout the night like a reverse lightning strike.
17 - The moon is a world like ours, with oceans and continents full of life. The life there may be fundamentally different or very similar.
18 - The moon is the homeworld of some race on our world, but it met a catastrophe long ago, leading to them becoming refugees.
19 - The moon is a ringworld.
20 - The moon is a second sun that was extinguished long ago. The world was once much hotter and covered in desert and jungle. They say that one day the other sun will be extinguished too, beginning the final era of existence.
21 - The moon has an additional phase beyond full, new, crescent, gibbous, and half. When the moon is awoken, the dead rise for the night(s)
22 - When the moon falls, it lands in the ocean a very long distance away, then emerges from the ocean on the opposite side of the world. Many explorers have sought to find the land known as Moonrise to harvest the treasures that are said to be found on the moon before it reaches Moonfall.
23 - The moon has a hole through the center of it, with an exposed burning orange core.
24 - The moon is permanently eclipsing a second sun, which is associated with destruction and evil.
25 - The moon is a gigantic, shriveled creature curled up in a fetal position.
26 - The moon is a gigantic skull.
27 - The moons hates us. With every beam of light that bounces off its regolith it sends us nothing but malice. Its gravity well directs meteorites towards us more than should be expected.
28 - There are dozens upon dozens of small moons.
29 - There are a few moons connected together by some superstructure.
30 - The moon was deconstructed into thousands of huge glowing space habitats in orbit around the planet.
31 - The moon projects a massive aura.
32 - The moon is creeping towards us, ever do slowly.
33 - The moon's motion is controlled by a powerful individual or organization in our world.
34 - The moon is a superweapon aimed directly at us.
35 - The moon is shaped like Arrokoth or another contact binary.
36 - The moon is one of the others on this list, but is connected to our world by an ancient portal network. The moon is probably one of the options that are colonized or have life, but if not, it could be that activating this network to drain away the world's oxygen is a goal of some villain, and ancient dungeons could have been built to protect the moongates in their depths.
37 - The moon is a giant spaceborne creature that is entirely alive and active, unlike #35. It blinks at us and feasts on void-krill/dreams/souls/sin.
38 - The moon used to be a colossal tree on our world, a tree of life so big that it became uprooted and drifted into orbit. If it isn't fossilized, then when the moontree peaks out from over the horizon during the day its leaves get scorched, and when out only at night it is frozen.
39 - The moon is a palace where a god or the greatest god-emperor to ever live dwells.
40 - The moon is made out of trillions of bones.
41 - The moon is entirely colonized and utilized by modrons. The whole surface is visibly divided into a perfectly ordered grid, and each square serves a different purpose. Some are being deconstructed to build constructs in Mechanus.
42 - The moon shoots out lightning during "moonstorms".
43 - The moon is a different geometrical shape. A cube, a pyramid, a dodecahedron, etc. Possibly several moons, one for each shape of die used in D&D.
44 - A legendary figure carved a grand symbol into the moon. Or a smiley face, one of those.
45 - The moon is branded with a magical sigil, causing it to cast a zone of truth over everything touched by the moonlight.
46 - The moon is branded with a magical sigil, causing it to turn everything touched by the moonlight into a wild magic zone.
47 - The moon is branded with a magical sigil, putting everything in the moonlight inside an antimagic field.
48 - The moon is a colossal coin. Rather than full or new moon, the phases are heads or tails, and it's random every night.
49 - The moon is a vampire. Blood slowly flows upwards to it at night time, causing beacons of glistening red at night in places where things have been killed during the day. Battlefields become crimson waterfalls at night. Some blood stays in the air as sanguine clouds - they say those spirits haven't moved on to the afterlife, and during the blood-rain they haunt the world.
50 - The moon pulsates in many different colors, the patterns being used by diviners to tell the future.
51 - The moon makes the night nearly as bright as day, but less hot.
52 - The moon flashes like a strobe light, making seeing at night even harder.
53 - The moon is a magical illusion, and because this is common knowledge it appears transparent.
54 - The moon shoots concentrated beans of moonlight down at any humanoids it sees outside during night-time. Most likely live underground, in massive structures, or under forest canopies.
55 - The moon speaks to everyone at night through telepathy. It is nearly all-knowing because of this, but great at keeping secrets. This may be how the Common language spread.
56 - The moon is the slumbering form of Atropus, the World Born Dead. (next bunch is from u/quantumturnip)
57 - The moon is a dead eldritch abomination that periodically hijacks people for unknown long-term goals.
58 - The moon houses a portal to another dimension, used as a methods of escape by the gods during some long-forgotten war.
59 - Long ago, a wizard got tired of worldly politics and left for the moon. He is now a lich and has his own magical research facility on the moon, populated by sentient undead.
60 - Multiple rival countries have established their own bases on the moon. None of them are aware that their rivals also have moonbases. Or maybe they are, it's your setting - go wild.
61 - Literally just a giant ball of cheese in space. (also, u/World-of-Ideas thought of this too, but I'm keeping it as just the one entry)
62 - The moon has its' own moons orbiting it
63 - The moon is chained to the surface of the planet
64 - The moon changes color each month, and a year is measured by the color cycle.
65 - There is a giant fingerprint on the moon.
66 - That’s no moon. It’s a space station. (u/infinitum3d)
67 - The moon is the eye (artificial, real) of some giant planet sized being, that lost its eye. (u/World-of-Ideas for the next bunch)
68 - The moon is a giant space station built by some ancient race.
69 - The moon is actually a giant colony ship. It delivered the original colonist to this world so long ago, that no one remembers.
70 - The moon is the shed carapace of some giant space creature.
71 - The moon is a planetary shield generator. It is meant to keep something imprisoned on the planet.
72 - The moon is a planetary shield generator. It is meant to (block the frequent meteor storms, keep outsider out, reduce solar radiation because the planet is too close to the sun).
73 - The moon is a hole in this reality. If one travels through it they would end up in a solar system in another dimension.
74 - The moon is an illusion. For some reason only the natives of this world can see the moon and the light that is reflects. Travelers from other worlds can't see it.
75 - The moon can only be seen by those who will die tonight. (u/mil_a1)
76 - The moon disappears for months at a time. (u/mil_a1)
77 - The moon is hollow and strange things live on the inside. (u/mil_a1)
78 - The moon is suspended above the world by chains that affix to the sky. Many of the chains are rusted through, and broken chains hang down from the moon. The longest of these broken chains drag thick gashes into the planet below. (u/Paydirt49)
79 - The equator of the moon is inscribed with a sentence though only half can be seen from the ground. (u/CommonlyQuixotic)
80 - The moon is a prison, housing a dangerous entity. (u/Daloowee)
81 - The moon is actually a highly sophisticated satellite designed to monitor the biggest threats contained on the planet. Manned by 2 chill guys Mike and Dave and their gazer pet, Goober. They are able to project themselves down to the planet and project the gazer as a beholder. (u/DrBeefsome)
82 - One of the most powerful spellcasters to ever live cast a spell that put a permanent sigil on the moon. If you copy the sigil onto a piece of paper and then step onto it, your viewpoint changes to be from the moon. (u/AlephBaker)
83 - The moon is replaced with a rift in time and space. (u/UmbramonOrSomething)
84 - The moon is rigged with explosives in case a threat erupts on the planet. (u/UmbramonOrSomething)
85 - The moon is made of thousands of different types of crystals smashed together into a ball. (u/UmbramonOrSomething)
86 - The moon is a giant, floating, white pig. (u/UmbramonOrSomething)
87 - The moon is actually an interstellar beast (think space whales) (u/UmbramonOrSomething)
88 - The moon is an eyeball and its different phases are just how much its eyelid has blinked. (u/Aspiring-Mutant) + The eye-moon tells you if your enemies are aware of your presence/how aware they are. The greatest thieves and assassins and that one kid who hid so well in Hide-And-Seek you had to file a police report are said to be able to black out the moon entirely just by crouching… (u/BuddyWhoOnceToldYou)
89 - The moon is anti-predictable. If you try and predict where or when it appears that is the one time/place it cannot be. (u/Metal-Teacher)
90 - The moon's phases control the moral compass of the planet's residents. (u/Metal-Teacher)
91 - The moon is in a highly eccentric orbit, causing massively different tides and gravitational effects. (u/Metal-Teacher)
92 - The moon, when it appears at noon and reflects light into a room, can cause a boon to goons. The boon is a familiar cat in a hat. (u/Metal-Teacher)
93 - The moons are in chaotic orbits, one day they might crash into one another. (u/Metal-Teacher)
94 - The moon is always opposite the sun, like it's hiding from it. For this reason, it is always red. (u/MitigatedRisk)
95 - The moon changes in size rather than waxing and waning (u/MitigatedRisk)
96 - If you look at the moon through a telescope, you're actually seeing the world at some point in the future (u/MitigatedRisk)
97 - The moon used to be a planet before someone sent it rocketing around the solar system. Warforged, Constructs, and similar beings still wander its long dead surface. (u/Kingsdaughter613)
98 - The moon is known as Vagabond (vague-a-bond). The moon is a mirror ball of astronomical size that makes the material plane accessible to all other planes of existence simultaneously. Thinning the metamorphic veil, meaning that you can take a walk into another plane of existence by accident (u/Emotional_Guillotine)
99 - The 72 Demon Sigils as moons (together known as Hell's Courtroom) (u/Emotional_Guillotine)
100 - The 7 archangels as moons (together known as the Radiant Citadel) (u/Emotional_Guillotine)
101 - The 12 zodiac and or astrology moons (u/Emotional_Guillotine)
102 - One moon per school of magic or plane of existence (u/Emotional_Guillotine)
103 - The 22 Alchemy Symbols as moons (u/Emotional_Guillotine)
104 - The 78 cards of a tarot deck as moons (u/Emotional_Guillotine)
105 - The 22 major arcana as moons (u/WashabePlus)

Three weeks ago, I woke up to the landline ringing. It was never a good sign. It either meant someone had died or some once met relative got engaged. That time it was a nurse. My grandmother had had a fall. My parents moved to the south of France two years prior and I had kept the family house. One uncle moved to Canada, the other was a heroin addict. It was on my 24 year old shoulders to look after their 87 year old mother, which is why she's in a retirement home. I threw on a bathrobe, got in my beaten '03 golf and drove as fast I could to Willow View retirement Village. The roads were practically empty at half four. Apart from two Crows, picking at a fresh chunk of roadkill. I wasn't looking to see what it was. Could've been a ham sandwich for all I knew. I still have feathers stuck in my car grill from that day. The bird gunk splattered on my bumper got a raised eyebrow from a paraplegic who had been wheeled outside to see the sun rise.
My grandmother ended up being fine, despite cracking her head on a marble counter corner. She put it down to all the milk she drinks. I work, kind of, for the only mechanics around, so I cleaned my car myself. No damage other than a slight dent. Another to add to my collection. Two weeks ago, I first noticed my new… friend. I was welding a fender outside the garage. Some guy drove into a lamp post, happens all the time. I saw a Crow perched on the gutter of the house next to us. The funny little guy was staring right at me. I noticed it had a single white feather on its left wing. I thought about it for a second, then went back to work. I clocked out an hour later. The next day I was greeted by Gerry, the one other apprentice at the Shop. The first thing he asked me, without a hello, was if I saw a little Crow around the garage yesterday. It almost slipped my mind but I told him I had. Gerry laughed and went off to glue his hand to a wrench again or whatever he does. Weirdo. I saw the Crow again that day. It was perched on a metal "Grease monkeys are we" poster inside the Garage. It just stood there and watched me. I must have stopped working as I stared back at it because Doc, the guy who owns the Garage, ergo my boss, slapped me around the back of the head and told me to get back to it. Bastard. Doc was around fifty, grey neck beard and oil stained Chicago Bulls baseball cap. He lurked around the garage for most of the day. He never did any manual work, he just greeted the people who pull up and bullshits them out of five hundred dollars when all they needed was a new spark plug. He threw an apple core at the Crow as he walked past it. It missed and the bird didn't budge from its perch.
I was on the other side of the lot when I heard a scream. Begrudgingly I walked over to the garage to see what happened. I knew it was Gerry who had screamed, I recognised from the last time he dropped a headlight on his foot. Gerry stood over Doc, his face white as winter. Doc lay in a pool of motor oil and blood. I gagged a bit but felt no remorse. I crouched down beside him and rolled him over to check his breath, not sure which side of the neck a pulse was supposed to be. He had a hex bolt in his forehead. Pretty dead as far as I could tell. I looked up at the bird for some reason. It was gone. So was a hex bolt from the grease monkey poster.
They put it down as an accident. Fair enough I suppose. Until the will was sorted, and the garage went to a family member of his, I was on paid leave. Gerry told me it was probably gonna be his brother taking over the place. I didn't care so long as the apprenticeship transfer went smoothly. Since I had some time on my hands for the next few weeks I took up painting. I remember being good at it at school, I had nothing better to do anyway. I started with the view from my kitchen. The woods of Harnett County. And then I saw it again. A little Crow, perched on a tree, staring at me. At first I didn't realise it was THE Crow, since its identifying white feather was partially covered in… motor oil? It was a good painting in the end. I signed it 'Bob Ross' as a joke. I decided to leave some seeds out for my new friend. I saw him around the next few days. Every time a new perch. He just stood there, watching. I decided to name him Crowley. Creative, I know. Six days ago I woke up to the sound of a tap tapping on my window. I put it down to a tree branch in the breeze. The next morning I opened the curtains and saw that my window was covered in scratch marks. I wasn't financially stable enough to care about cosmetic damage to a window, so I added it to a list of things for future me to sort out. Later that day I saw him. Crowley. He was in my kitchen. I thought of the disease he could be carrying and gagged. I grabbed a broom and shooed him out a window like a pest. That's all he was, a pest.
I didn't hear any scratching that night, despite the wind being stronger than it was yesterday. I went downstairs at three to get something to drink. There was a dead rat on the counter. I jumped back when I saw it like it was going to attack me. Blood was dripping out and running down the cupboard. I almost threw up as I picked it up by the tail and flung it out the window. I cleaned up, had a shower and went back to bed. For the entire night all I heard was squawking.
The next morning I found the intestines of the rat on the back door step. The way they lay… it'd didn't feel like they had just been strewn across the step. I saw Crowley perched on a tree in my garden. His beak still red with rat blood. Ever staring. I wonder what he was thinking. What he knew. I put some rat poison in his seed bowl. I thought that might do something. It didn't. I watched from my window as he inspected the grain before flying away, having not touched it I brought a cat later that day. I didn't even bother naming it. I just hoped it'd kill the bird.
The next day the cat was dead. I found the bird seed I had poisoned in its food bowl. I went inside, took my Glock 19 from my bedside cabinet and shot at Crowley. He flew away. I tried relaxing after that. I did everything Google told me to do. I tried some meditation, lit a cinnamon Yankee candle and took some deep breaths. It helped actually. After unwinding I got in my car and drove into town. I didn't trust the food left in my kitchen. I came to realise I was being dumb. Was I really scared of a bird? A fucking bird. What could a bird possibly do to hurt me?
When I came home my house was on fire. I just kneeled down in the driveway and started crying. I was born in that house. I've lived there every day of my life. Crowley perched on his favourite branch of the oak in my garden, before it too went a blaze. Gradually, neighbours and fire fighters flocked to the area. They couldn't do anything to help. Their blank words of remorse meant nothing. I just got back in my car and started the drive back to town. From there… I'd get a bus into Raleigh, stay with a friend for a few nights. From there, it was anyone's guess. I've never even thought about not having a house. My parents always told me it was a guarantee since I was a kid. On the drive there I saw him. Crowley, I'm sure of it. Standing in the road pecking at something. I swerved into the other lane to run him over. Right into the path of a freighter.
I woke up this morning, in hospital. I'm now a double amputee, right below the knees. Most of my body is in a cast. It's taken me nine hours to type this out with just my right hand. When I started typing, Crowley was at my window. Now he's perched on the table next to me. I can't do anything. I can't move. I can't make a sound. All I can do is watch him peck at my IV drip.

Three weeks ago, I woke up to the landline ringing. It was never a good sign. It either meant someone had died or some once met relative got engaged. That time it was a nurse. My grandmother had had a fall. My parents moved to the south of France two years prior and I had kept the family house. One uncle moved to Canada, the other was a heroin addict. It was on my 24 year old shoulders to look after their 87 year old mother, which is why she's in a retirement home. I threw on a bathrobe, got in my beaten '03 golf and drove as fast I could to Willow View retirement Village. The roads were practically empty at half four. Apart from two Crows, picking at a fresh chunk of roadkill. I wasn't looking to see what it was. Could've been a ham sandwich for all I knew. I still have feathers stuck in my car grill from that day. The bird gunk splattered on my bumper got a raised eyebrow from a paraplegic who had been wheeled outside to see the sun rise.
My grandmother ended up being fine, despite cracking her head on a marble counter corner. She put it down to all the milk she drinks. I work, kind of, for the only mechanics around, so I cleaned my car myself. No damage other than a slight dent. Another to add to my collection. Two weeks ago, I first noticed my new… friend. I was welding a fender outside the garage. Some guy drove into a lamp post, happens all the time. I saw a Crow perched on the gutter of the house next to us. The funny little guy was staring right at me. I noticed it had a single white feather on its left wing. I thought about it for a second, then went back to work. I clocked out an hour later. The next day I was greeted by Gerry, the one other apprentice at the Shop. The first thing he asked me, without a hello, was if I saw a little Crow around the garage yesterday. It almost slipped my mind but I told him I had. Gerry laughed and went off to glue his hand to a wrench again or whatever he does. Weirdo. I saw the Crow again that day. It was perched on a metal "Grease monkeys are we" poster inside the Garage. It just stood there and watched me. I must have stopped working as I stared back at it because Doc, the guy who owns the Garage, ergo my boss, slapped me around the back of the head and told me to get back to it. Bastard. Doc was around fifty, grey neck beard and oil stained Chicago Bulls baseball cap. He lurked around the garage for most of the day. He never did any manual work, he just greeted the people who pull up and bullshits them out of five hundred dollars when all they needed was a new spark plug. He threw an apple core at the Crow as he walked past it. It missed and the bird didn't budge from its perch.
I was on the other side of the lot when I heard a scream. Begrudgingly I walked over to the garage to see what happened. I knew it was Gerry who had screamed, I recognised from the last time he dropped a headlight on his foot. Gerry stood over Doc, his face white as winter. Doc lay in a pool of motor oil and blood. I gagged a bit but felt no remorse. I crouched down beside him and rolled him over to check his breath, not sure which side of the neck a pulse was supposed to be. He had a hex bolt in his forehead. Pretty dead as far as I could tell. I looked up at the bird for some reason. It was gone. So was a hex bolt from the grease monkey poster.
They put it down as an accident. Fair enough I suppose. Until the will was sorted, and the garage went to a family member of his, I was on paid leave. Gerry told me it was probably gonna be his brother taking over the place. I didn't care so long as the apprenticeship transfer went smoothly. Since I had some time on my hands for the next few weeks I took up painting. I remember being good at it at school, I had nothing better to do anyway. I started with the view from my kitchen. The woods of Harnett County. And then I saw it again. A little Crow, perched on a tree, staring at me. At first I didn't realise it was THE Crow, since its identifying white feather was partially covered in… motor oil? It was a good painting in the end. I signed it 'Bob Ross' as a joke. I decided to leave some seeds out for my new friend. I saw him around the next few days. Every time a new perch. He just stood there, watching. I decided to name him Crowley. Creative, I know. Six days ago I woke up to the sound of a tap tapping on my window. I put it down to a tree branch in the breeze. The next morning I opened the curtains and saw that my window was covered in scratch marks. I wasn't financially stable enough to care about cosmetic damage to a window, so I added it to a list of things for future me to sort out. Later that day I saw him. Crowley. He was in my kitchen. I thought of the disease he could be carrying and gagged. I grabbed a broom and shooed him out a window like a pest. That's all he was, a pest.
I didn't hear any scratching that night, despite the wind being stronger than it was yesterday. I went downstairs at three to get something to drink. There was a dead rat on the counter. I jumped back when I saw it like it was going to attack me. Blood was dripping out and running down the cupboard. I almost threw up as I picked it up by the tail and flung it out the window. I cleaned up, had a shower and went back to bed. For the entire night all I heard was squawking.
The next morning I found the intestines of the rat on the back door step. The way they lay… it'd didn't feel like they had just been strewn across the step. I saw Crowley perched on a tree in my garden. His beak still red with rat blood. Ever staring. I wonder what he was thinking. What he knew. I put some rat poison in his seed bowl. I thought that might do something. It didn't. I watched from my window as he inspected the grain before flying away, having not touched it I brought a cat later that day. I didn't even bother naming it. I just hoped it'd kill the bird.
The next day the cat was dead. I found the bird seed I had poisoned in its food bowl. I went inside, took my Glock 19 from my bedside cabinet and shot at Crowley. He flew away. I tried relaxing after that. I did everything Google told me to do. I tried some meditation, lit a cinnamon Yankee candle and took some deep breaths. It helped actually. After unwinding I got in my car and drove into town. I didn't trust the food left in my kitchen. I came to realise I was being dumb. Was I really scared of a bird? A fucking bird. What could a bird possibly do to hurt me?
When I came home my house was on fire. I just kneeled down in the driveway and started crying. I was born in that house. I've lived there every day of my life. Crowley perched on his favourite branch of the oak in my garden, before it too went a blaze. Gradually, neighbours and fire fighters flocked to the area. They couldn't do anything to help. Their blank words of remorse meant nothing. I just got back in my car and started the drive back to town. From there… I'd get a bus into Raleigh, stay with a friend for a few nights. From there, it was anyone's guess. I've never even thought about not having a house. My parents always told me it was a guarantee since I was a kid. On the drive there I saw him. Crowley, I'm sure of it. Standing in the road pecking at something. I swerved into the other lane to run him over. Right into the path of a freighter.
I woke up this morning, in hospital. I'm now a double amputee, right below the knees. Most of my body is in a cast. It's taken me nine hours to type this out with just my right hand. When I started typing, Crowley was at my window. Now he's perched on the table next to me. I can't do anything. I can't move. I can't make a sound. All I can do is watch him peck at my IV drip.

First Issue!

• Author's note: Hello everyone! I've seen quite a few people enjoy the pilot for Space Crusader so I thought, what the hell. Might as well make it a second series to write for when I feel burnout from writing my main series, Beast World. If you enjoyed Space Crusader, give a looksie to my other series and check my posts for some HFY one shot stories peppered inbetween. Also if you wish to support my writing you can find my Ko-Fi page here! Donate a coffee and a cookie to my writing goblin here, if you wish!

Gab'el had managed to use Azail's shooting as a distraction to stab one of the advancing Daemar soldiers into his side, but the lack of physical strength had made the strike shallow. In return the military pilot got his right hand blown apart by a Rail Rifle round, which ripped from his throat a pained scream.
"This is just sad at this point. But, you did get me. Huh... stings, but not as bad as this will, bluey scum." The Daemar soldier said gloating as he began charging a shot with his rifle.
"No! Don't you dare!" Azail screamed out as she rushed desperate out of cover shooting her kinetic handgun to not avail. The shots would just bounce right off the Daemar's body suit.
As the demon like alien was about to let off the round, a silvery javelin cut through the air and hit the rifle's receiver. The spike like metal rod impaled the gun into the ship's wall, right before the unloading shot blew it to bits and the Daemar's hands along with it.
Oh, how the red soldier screamed as his nubs gushed with deep dark crimson blood. As he was about to enter shock his shakey dark eyed gaze stared from where the metal rod just flew from.
From the darkness of the hallway a pair of blue eyes shined akin to beacons of eternal hope. Heavy steps got closer and into the blue emergency light, William's armored figure could now be spotted.
"YOU DARE POINT YOUR FIRE SPITTING CROSSBOW AT AN ANGEL, YOU FOUL VERMIN OF HELL?! YOU SHAN'T SHED NOT ONE MORE DROP OF DIVINE ESSENCE WHILE I STAND! GOD COMETH TO CLAIM HIS POUND OF FLESH AND I AM HIS HAND." William's voice rang out burning with a primal zealous anger, the metallic tone to his utterances making them ring out even harsher.
As his longsword's blade sparked in his right hand, he lifted up his left and another javelin formed from his suit's material.
Daemar frozen in place began to whimper as it heard the unintelligible screaming clearly directed at him. "T-tell it to stand down! I-i surr-"
His whimperings didn't manage to reach their obvious conclusion as the javelin William held was now found in the Daemar's gut. The impact knocked him onto his back.
Azail, who was by Gab'el side, putting a touniquet on his stump, had glanced for just a few moments up to see the silvery figure of someone clearly wearing the RF Suit... or was it? It looked so different. 'Is... is that the damned native? W-what did those crazy scientists do?! They gave it the RF armor?!' She thought for a moment before refocusing on aiding Gab'el's injury.
Still, Azail's eyes caught a glimpse of something... spine chilling. The native was now up close to the Daemar who tried to back away on his elbows.
William lifted up his longsword over his head at an angle clearly meant for a side diagonal cut. "FOR EACH SPOONFUL OF BLOOD THAT GOT SPILLED FROM GOD'S CHILDREN I DEMAND A HEAD! YOUR TITHE IS DUE, ABOMINATION! RHHHA!"
As the Daemar screamed as if he just saw his own God himself, the screeching of terror was stopped by the knight's blade decapitating him entirely.
William was panting and growling as he dropped his sword, which turned to liquid metal and retracted back into the armor, like the metal javelin that was still in the wall, once he got closer. He pulled out the remaining javelin from the demon's body and then grasped it's head from the top and mounted it on the blunt end of the javelin.
"T-that was j-just sheer a-and utter savagery..." Is the one thing Azail muttered as both her and Gab'el stared and William exiting the ship.
"T-hose damned scientists... they gave a monster the means to destroy even more easily. Agh!" Gab'el said with a groan.
Her co-pilot's grunts snapped her out of the weird state of mind that she just got in. Azail helped Gab'el to stand up and she began dragging him deeper into the ship. "W-well deal with that later. Lets patch you up, Gab."
Outside the two remaining Daemar were checking upon their other fallen comrade to see if they could be saved.
"It's no use. Geroth bled out and we don't have what is necessary to attempt to bring him back. We should retreat captain, I j-just heard Skeg's death screams over the comms." The lower ranking Daemar said with a shakey voice.
"I will not be bested by a research ship and a bloody mud eating native. I would rather die instead of writing that shit show of a report paper. A shameful smear on my-... huh?" The Daemar captain didn't manage to finish his speech as his eyes turned to gaze in the directiom from which metal stomps could be heard coming from.
William had exited the ship and as he looked about he turned around the back end of the ship. It didn't take long for him to find the remaining ones.
The Daemar captain and his soldier's eyes widened as they saw the silvery form of William who caried Skeg's head on top of a metal rod. The poor soldier's expression was frozen with terror.
"D-doulen. H-hold him off! THAT'S AN ORDER!" Uttered the captain as he backed up while William stared at them as he planted the rod of the impaled head into the ground.
"I- huh?! W-what?!" Doulen the Daemar soldier said confused as he turned to see his captain scurry off in the direction of their ship.
The poor soldier didn't have time to think on going against his order as the silvery knight rushed at him. "BESTOW ONTO ME YOUR HEAD, DEMON! HRRRAA!" William yelled as he moved on forward, with a hand outstretched to the side, a hand axe formed in his right palm's grasp.
Doulan yelped as he aimed his Rail Rifle at William and after the shot charged he let it rip through the air.
William's eyes could see a bloody crimson line pointed from the demon's crossbow to him. Before the hellish firebolt even got to tear through the air at him, the knight already moved out of its way.
"YOU CAN NOT STRIKE ME DOWN DEVIL, FOR I PARTAKE OF THE FATHER'S SIGHT. YOU SHAN'T MAKE ME KEEL OVER BEFORE YOU! GOD, HEAR YOUR SON'S PLEAS! GRANT ME A SHIELD AS STRONG AS THE WALLS THAT KEEP YOUR SILVER KINGDOM SAFE!" William roared as he kept his charging momentum.
"Rerouting full body shielding." 'God' stated in the language that William presummed a mortal couldn't understand. From his left forearm a metal cross shape expanded and jutted out forming a light blue energy Heater shaped shield.
Doulan yelled in fear as he let off shot after shot of his Rail Rifle. He tried backing up as fast as possible while still maintaing his fire.
William used the bloody tread of fate he could see, not to avoid the shots, but to instead block them with his shield while maintaing a straight course. The Rail Rifle shots made his shield spark up from the impacts, but it held. Shot after shot, William got closer.
"GO DOWN YOU BLOODY FUCKING MAMMAL!" Doulan cried out in sheer terror and desperation. As a last resort he turned off the limiter on his charge and kept charging his rifle until the armored native was about 10 meters away from him. The energy of his rifle, going well over its preset limits. "DIE! JUST FUCKING DIE ALREADY!" He cried out teary eyed as he let off this one last round.
William stood his ground and he managed to block the bolt of fire with his shield. He roared as he waved his shield arm to the the side deflecting the projectile into a near by tree.
Wood splintered, dirt and dust got blown up in the air from the overcharged shot. The Daemar soldier's rifle now had a melted barrel and as he tossed the now useless weapon aside, he drew his kinetic sidearm. He glanced about trying to calm his breathing, his black eyes scanning his surroundings in a hectic manner.
As silence began to echo around Doulan and the dust began to slowly start falling, the Daemar soldier dared to relax for just a moment. At this point William shot out of the dust cloud, his blue eyes shining upon the soldier a new type of doom and fear.
"YOUR HEAD! YOUR HEAD FOR GOD'S CHILDREEEEEEN!" William roared akin to a mad beast as he brought down his silver handaxe upon the Daemar's face.
"AAAAAGH! NO WAIT! PLEA- HAGH!" were the last words of Doulan, the Daemar soldier. The first of many unfinished pleas to go echoing into oblivion before William's fury.

Cleaning out the knife drawer because I don't need all these stupid knives. These are all budget blades and I'm selling them even cheaper. Make me an offer. Except where noted, these will ship without a box, likely in a bubble mailer because they're tough little pieces of metal.
​
image, timestamp and vids: https://imgur.com/a/f6qseXe
​
KOMORAN 035 BLACK AND ORANGE G-10 LINERLOCK
https://imgur.com/ieyq3jU
I guess that's what SMKW calls it, Sells new for ~$28. This is a user knife. Big honking blade means it pops right open. Never carried. Oh yeah, comes with the box, a little baggie, microfiber cloth, some ad papers, even a silica gel packet. Yours shipped for $20. Or YOLO it with no box and pay $15, I'll still include the other stuff but shipping will be cheaper and easier. I've seen an identical knife sold under the TWOSUN brand, so it's very likely that's the source.
​
WARSPEAR FOLDING KNIFE GREEN MICARTA HANDLE
https://imgur.com/kluNGAO
14C28N steel. Sells new for ~$28. Check the vid, pops right open. Big ol' knife here. Front flip it, or reverse flick the blade if you're good. Shipped for $15.
​
FREETIGER D2 CLEAVER BLACK MICARTA
https://imgur.com/QiM4nAb
These get rebranded and sold under different names for around $25. Freetiger sure beats "Tunafire" - look it up. Looks and feels like a Gerber Flatiron except the action here pops and it's a liner lock and it has a flipper tab - actually kinda better than the flatiron. Yours for $15 shipped.
​
TWOSUN TS127-G10-1
https://imgur.com/gmN3bgg
Wong design on this sorta unavailable Twosun knife. Hella pokey, flips and flicks, not a small guy. These are around for ~$75 or so. Yours for $35 shipped.
​
SENCUT BRONTE BLACK MICARTA - MODDED
SENCUT NECHES GREEN MICARTA
SENCUT SCEPTER BROWN MICARTA
https://imgur.com/ywhNBWX
Three older knives from sencut. They all snap open just fine. Couple things - the Scepter is missing the pocket clip - don't remember why I needed that. The Bronte is the result of a blade swap, it's the darker blade swapped in on this one. These all sell new for around $50-55 each. Each is yours for $25, or $60 when you buy all three**.**
​
SENCUT TYNAN STAINLESS STEEL
https://imgur.com/XGSudU5
Kinda heavy but absolutely compact stainless scaled flipper. Around $55 new, yours for $25.
​
REAL STEEL AKUMA BLACK G10
https://imgur.com/lcnxBWE
From designer Ivan Braginets, this knife is crazy versatile and fidgetable. Stupid word, but it is. Action is wildly free, you can flip it, flick it, thumbstud it. Watch the vid - see it wiggle? Ha! Sells new for ~$95 most places, and I believe this black version is pretty scarce these days, major retailers don't have it. Did carry this one some, blade is in great shape. Yours for $40 shipped.
​
GERBER AFFINITY
GERBER SLIMSADA
https://imgur.com/F9pfKR3
Not much to say here. Here are a couple knives that will work if you need a knife. Affinity is yours free with the purchase of another knife, or ten bucks shipped if you want it. Slimsada is a little nicer but the action isn't amazing. Easy to carry though, and D2 is fine. Sells new for $50ish, I'll ship to you for $25.
​
SPYDERCO.... EFFICIENT? EFFICIENT.
https://imgur.com/uFmdfyP
Pretty sure this one is the Efficiant. An older version with murdered out blade and the old school super-not-deep-carry pocket clip. Action is ass but if you need a knife, it works. China, 8CR13MOV. I want to say it was like $60 new? Yours for $25 shipped.
​
BOKER PLUS ZENSHIN
https://imgur.com/Wa3p2Nm
This knife is tiny, but it also has an almost three inch blade. The blade is insanely sharp, like scary sharp. 440C. This stainless version is harder to find these days, new ones are brass IIRC. Sells new for around $50, shipped here to you for $25.
​
QSP GANNET
https://imgur.com/uFiKZVj
Great knife, I just need fewer knives. Front flipper, but you can reverse flick with some fingermeat on the side of the blade. The black micarta is cool and the bolster with red cf is also cool. Deep carry pocket clip is rad, I love this knife. It did see some pretty frequent carry from me a while back, but it rarely cut and the blade is fine. These run around $80 new. Yours for $40 shipped.
​
So there you go. Willing to save you some extra dollars if you want to buy multiple, make me an offer. These are all good knives for a person who needs a knife.

A slave-driving murderer had just publicly declared war on us. The cheering and applause of the people standing around us was an eerie and ominous accompaniment to the feeling of dread swelling in my chest and radiating down to my stomach. He'd captured all of them thus far. I swallowed and dropped my gaze down to the pavement as it dawned on me that all of those people had tasted freedom, and were then immediately and mercilessly hunted down and dragged back to hell.
But there was an interesting caveat there. He called us by the names O'Malley had erroneously wrote down in his ledger. The men that were chasing us that day had picked up our actual fake aliases, but then we'd killed them at the inn. It seemed that knowledge died with them– a drop of good luck in a raging downpour it seemed.
"William," I said just loud enough to catch his attention.
He turned and eyed me. "Huh? Were you talking to me?"
I lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah. Who else would I be calling William?"
He narrowed his eyes, "It's Tovin, you spaz."
I glanced around nervously. Nobody appeared to have been listening to us. I took him by the shoulder and led him away from the crowd gathered around the picture boxes. "What are you doing?" I hissed.
"What am I doing?" he scoffed. "What are you doing? You know my name. What, are you playing a game right now?"
"Our aliases," I said through my teeth. "We're using fake names, remember?"
His expression changed from annoyed and confused to forlorn and somber. He swallowed and looked away. "... I'm losing it again, aren't I?" he asked.
I remained silent. I didn't know what to say. I didn't want him to feel worse about it, but that would have been a dangerous slip-up in front of the wrong person. Before now, I was starting to think that Tovin back home had overblown how quickly the mental decline would be.
"Don't worry about it," I said finally, passing him on the sidewalk further into the city. "Come on. We need to find a way to make some money."
"And fast," he added, trailing behind me. "We need food, clothes, and a couple of beds. And more cigarettes, too. I've only got a few left and I'm trying to make them last."
We walked the mazelike streets of Bronzegirder looking for work. I wasn't used to Diesel society yet and often found myself hung up on storefront windows that marketed all kinds of gadgets and technology. I would do my best not to stare when people walked by wearing metallic pieces on their persons.
Some wore gadgets on their forearms, some on their wrists, and others in various other areas. I wondered what purpose they served, where they were sold, and how expensive they could be. And it wasn't just the gadgets. There were far more dark-skinned people here than we had in Galgia. It was something I had read about but never experienced. They ranged from light tan all the way to almost black, and it just added to the culture shock.
There appeared to be people living in the buildings above the storefronts. The tall towers we had seen in the far distance earlier served as housing as well as business space. Diesillians stood on their balconies, some hanging wet laundry, others leaning over their railing while they enjoyed a drink or a smoke. We passed so many things I would have wanted to stop and look at were we not being hunted. DuPonte seemed awfully sure of himself when he said he'd find us, but for the life of me, I couldn't imagine how one would find antything they were looking for in this city.
"I'm totally lost," I admitted. "We need a map or something."
He remained quiet. I turned to speak to him more directly only to find that he wasn't behind me anymore. My stomach dropped as I looked around at the sea of people.
"William?" I called out. "William!"
It was no good. I'd have to literally scream if I wanted to breach the drone of the crowd, and I couldn't afford to draw too much attention to myself. There was also the possibility that he'd forgotten his name again anyway. I adjusted the straps of my backpack and sighed deeply before doubling back. He couldn't have wandered too far away, and he'd be easy to spot against the horde of people in more modern clothing.
I kept close to the storefronts as I picked up my pace. I began to peer into each store as I passed them. The longer I searched, the more I worried. He wasn't in his right mind. He'd get himself noticed and captured if he let too much slip, or pulled down his hood. I came to the turn we had taken after we'd left the picture boxes. He was with me at this point, I was sure of it. I turned around and swallowed as I scanned the crowd.
This was really, really, bad.
"William?" I tried again. I decided to cross the street and nearly got run over by one of their vehicles. It screeched to a stop and when I lowered my arms, I found the front of the metallic machine inches from my face.
"Git the fuck oudda da road!" shouted the pilot, shaking his fist in the air. I quickly scurried onto the opposite sidewalk and made my way down the street with the flow of the crowd. I kept my eyes peeled as I walked. It was difficult to see over everyone's shoulders. Diesillians were a good deal taller than Galgians as a rule, and it made it a nightmare for an average-sized guy like myself. Just when I was about to start asking around, something caught my ear.
Something I never expected to hear– music.
I stopped in my tracks and the public parted around me like a river around a boulder. I turned toward the sound and followed my ears to a large silver pavilion nestled between two tall buildings. It looked like an empty lot that had been designed for another tall building but instead served as some sort of inner-city courtyard where live entertainment performed.
I slowly approached as a woman stood in front of a mic stand singing while a band performed with shining metallic instruments behind her. She had black hair styled in a way I'd never seen hair styled. It was pulled up and around under a hat and shined the same as her red lipstick did. But what awed me the most was that she was singing.
No danger; no combat; no sign of beasts being summoned forth. She sang beautifully, adding something to music that I had never in my life once considered because in Galgia, to sing was to slaughter. Music was a tool of war and forbidden entirely outside of such circumstances, for if one of us were even to hum, anything could come crawling out of the resulting portal.
But here she was, singing what I presumed were the words to a poem in perfect rhythm and harmony with the band that played behind her.
"You're my machine, my heart's ignition. The gears that keep my love in motion. You're the engine that never tires– the pistons set my soul on fire."
I was completely taken in. It was therefore no surprise to me that here in the crowd, I spotted Tovin watching her with equal admiration from the edge of the stage. I weaved through the crowd as politely as I was able and then stopped next to him. He glanced at me before quickly returning his eyes back to the stage. I didn't say anything to him; no words needed said so long as she was singing.
"You, my dear, a love machine, the one that keeps my bearings clean– I'm addicted to your engine's roar, your power's what I'm living for."
I wasn't a hundred percent sure what she was talking about, but it was clearly a love song written for one lucky guy. When the song was finished, she ever so slightly lifted her ruby-red dress from the sides and took a bow. The crowd clapped, a few whistles coming from somewhere behind us.
"Thank you," she said softly into the mic. "It's important to remember that love conquers all," she said, passing her deep black eyes over us. "Hatred fades over time, but love lasts; it endures. This next song is about a long lost love and reconnection."
We stayed and listened to a couple more songs before she left the stage, and the band with her. She disappeared on promises of returning tomorrow for a second show. Of all the things thus far I had seen in the land of our enemy, something so sweet as non-weaponized music ranked among the most surprising and awe-inspiring.
As the crowd began to disperse back onto the main street, I turned to Tovin. "Hey, do me a favor and don't disappear like that. I didn't know where you were and we've got to stick together."
"Can we come back here tomorrow?" he asked, completely ignoring what I'd said. He stared at me with hopeful eyes, a small smile on his face. It still felt strange of him to ask me permission for anything, but I couldn't deny that it was a pretty magical performance.
"Only if we live that long," I answered with a heaping helping of snark. "We need money so we can get off these streets tonight. Come on, we're losing daylight."
He looked past my shoulder and suddenly pointed. "What about that?"
I turned to see a bulletin board posted on the side of a building not far from us. On it were several posts, but one of them specifically read, "200 Octim Sign-On Bonus." The two of us walked up the board and looked over the job.
"There's a sign-on bonus," Tovin said as his eyes moved down the paper. "The Empress needs you. Galgian dogs sent monsters to run amok in our fair empire. Officials are spread thin amidst heightened tensions with Galgia's military. Find and kill monsters for bounties. Seek employment at the Hunters' Barracks at 443 Alloy Avenue on the north side of town. Look for the men in uniform."
"Monsters?" I asked. "There aren't any monsters in Galgia. None in all of Aurii if our textbooks are accurate."
"You want to at least check it out?" he asked.
"I think we'd be wasting our time," I said dismissively. "We hiked through a bunch of wilderness closer to the Galgian border and we didn't see anything all night."
He folded his arms. "Then let's get our sign-on bonus and leave."
That was such a fantastic point that I pushed my palm against my forehead and visibly cringed. "Oof. Why am I so dumb?" I whined.
"I don't think you're dumb," Tovin said as he moved down the bulletin board to look at other flyers. "I think you're just honest to a fault. It never would have occurred to you to do something so underhanded."
I would never get used to compliments from Tovin. It was like watching a different person wear his body and speak with his voice. Had life at ENU really been such a drag on him?
"None of these other jobs are offering money upfront," he added, turning to face me. "Let's head to the north side of town and see if we can find Alloy Avenue."
x - - x - - x - - ★ - - x - - x - - x
The walk was long and difficult– not because it was too far, but because we had to pass so much delicious-smelling food along the way. I hadn't been sure before if Tovin was as hungry as I was, but the north side of Bronzegirder was quiet enough to hear both of our stomachs growling in concert with one another. The buildings were made of brick in the district we wandered through, and the walkways were closer to cobblestone like the kind we had back home. The roads were three times as wide, there were benches along the walkways, and they had planted trees caged in black iron gates at the trunks. The few people that strolled the sidewalks on Alloy Avenue were well-to-do, dressed in expensive-looking suits and wearing high hats with wide brims.
"I like this side of town better," Tovin said as we looked for building addresses. "Though I have to say, I'm surprised to see trees in the collossity."
"Goes a little against what we were taught doesn't it?" I asked.
"I don't recall being taught anything," he grumbled. "It's just another thing I somehow know."
I cast him a sympathetic glance and he didn't seem to like it. He scowled at me, "Don't you pity me."
"I'm not," I rolled my eyes. "I'd never feel bad for you Tovin, not in a thousand years."
"Just shut up," he snapped. "We're here."
He stopped in front of a brick building with an impressive stone staircase that had bronze handrails running up the length of them. At the top were two men in uniform just as the flyer had indicated. He was the first to start up the steps and I quickly followed behind him. As we passed them I took a good look at their uniforms. I could have sworn that I'd seen them somewhere before. We walked up to the glass doors and pulled them open.
A blast of warm air blew over us as we entered the building and it was a welcome reprieve from the cold. Inside was smaller than I had anticipated. I was expecting high ceilings, murals, metal artwork, and all kinds of stuff from how nice the outside looked. Instead, we found ourselves standing in a dirty lobby about the size of a headmaster's office. There were several rows of chairs dotted with people filling out forms on clipboards. At the back of the lobby was a little window with a man sitting on the other side. He was dark-skinned, had a shaved head, and bore a grisly pink scar across his cheek. He waved us forward when he noticed us.
"Let me do the talking," I whispered to Tovin, taking the lead in front of him as we made our way over; he didn't protest.
"Afternoon, gentlemen," he spoke into a microphone that relayed his voice to us through a little black device on the window. "Thinking about joining up?"
Before I could even speak, Tovin leaned onto the counter. "So when you say monsters," he adopted a skeptical look. "You mean like the ones that don't exist?"
The man behind the counter rolled his eyes. "Oh, great, another conspiracy theorist."
"What did you call me?" Tovin shot back.
"Ahhh, ha ha," I called out loudly, pulling Tovin back by his shoulder. "My brother is better at fighting than talking," I covered quickly. "Just talk to me from here on in."
He cast me a disinterested glance before handing us both clipboards with forms attached. "Whatever. Just read the whole thing and sign the liability waiver at the bottom. He's free to deny their existence while they're chewing his face off, but the empire won't be responsible for it."
I took both of the clipboards and passed one to Tovin. The two of us sat down and began going through them– and immediately, we faced a problem. They wanted first and last names, home addresses, medical history, and something called landline numbers. Tovin and I exchanged glances; this wasn't going to work.
I stood up and slowly walked back up to the counter as I looked over the document. Every time I looked, it seemed more and more ridiculous. Blood type? Social security number? Insurance provider? I didn't know what any of this meant. It might as well have been in an entirely different language.
"Did you have a question?" asked the man behind the counter.
"Yeah, I don't have most of this information," I said, setting the clipboard down on the counter. "Sorry, but we're gonna have to just go."
"Well, hang on now," he said, reaching under the little pass-through window and retrieving the clipboard. "I take it you boys are homeless then?" he asked.
"Uhh... Yeah," I answered tentatively. Did they really have such a homeless problem that he was able to jump to that conclusion so quickly? "We don't know how to answer these questions, so thanks anyways."
"I said hang on, dammit," he called through the mic before swiveling around in his chair and pulling some kind of lever underneath it that caused it to sink lower to the floor. He opened a cabinet and began rifling through it. I peered through the window at his chair– it was on some kind of ball axis that allowed him to spin in it freely. I felt like every couple of minutes I was seeing something I'd never seen before. He swiveled back around and lifted his chair back up before he handing me a new form. It was more like a strip of paper with three questions on it.
Shirt size, shoe size, and pant size.
There was a second slip of paper underneath it. I looked back up at the window attendant as Tovin appeared next to me. I handed him the slip of paper and we exchanged glances.
"The empire isn't being picky right now," spoke the man through the speaker. "You'll be assigned a number, a gun, and a uniform. You won't be eligible for emergency care, and you can't be assigned to a party. It'll be just the two of you. If you're still interested, we need all the help we can get."
I shrugged at Tovin, and he got to work filling out the information. I leaned on the counter and jotted down my uniform size before signing the waiver and handing everything back. He took both of the documents and then nodded toward the door on his right. "Come on back."
He reached under the table and did something that caused the door to make a whirring sound. It popped open on its own, and he thumbed us over to it. "Close it on your way in. Walk straight down the hall and through the third door on your left. Your hunter number is 27B and his is 28B."
We walked down the hallway and found the designated door already opened and with a sign on the inside that read, "Uniforms HERE" with an arrow pointing into the room. We were met by a portly woman with bouncy curls that hung down to her shoulders. She sat behind a desk absolutely surrounded by hanging uniforms, all kept in clear covering. She sized us up with a retractable ruler– the coolest ruler I had ever seen. After she took our measurements, she began sifting through uniforms.
"Why did they ask us for our sizes if they were going to measure us?" Tovin grumbled.
"I don't know," I whispered. "Just be quiet."
"Don't tell me to be quiet," he shot back, elbowing me in the ribs.
She turned around holding two suits by the hangers, one in each hand. "Your uniforms will come out of your first bounty collected," she announced. "No money needed upfront. Change into them and make sure they fit." We took them from her and she breezed past us. "Holler out here when you're changed." She closed the door behind her.
We turned away from one another and began getting dressed. I pulled back the crinkly clear material and looked down at the uniform. Now that I was seeing it closer, it was actually an extremely dark shade of blue, rather than black as I had thought prior. I looked down at the hat and held it in my hands. I had seen it before. Then, all at once, it came rushing back to me.
These were the uniforms of the men that had come to the mine. They had come carrying guns to inspect the worksite after what had happened to Hammer. Skully must have thought a monster had gotten to him based on the state of his body. I stared down at the uniform in disbelief. Could monsters really be running around in Diesel territory?
"You better not be looking over here," Tovin warned.
They had mistaken what Tovin had done for a monster attack. Skully's "fonekall" wasn't a pilgrimage. It was some form of long-distance communication. She reached out to the capital to request aid from someone, and they sent these guys. I began to wonder if I was making a mistake. If we could be dispatched like that, then we could feasibly be sent back to the camp.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. We were only in it for the sign-on bonus. Once we had that in our hands, we'd be outta here. We could even jump to the next town. They knew nothing about us other than our clothing size. We could be dust in the wind by tomorrow morning.
I shoved those thoughts to the back of my mind and quickly got dressed. The uniform fit perfectly, it was comfortable, and best of all had been designed with a high collar. It covered our neck markings perfectly. I turned to see Tovin with the hat on already. He looked like a classic Diesel villain from a comic book I had read as a kid.
"It fits nice," he said, testing the range of motion he had in his arms. "I think this will work."
"Yeah," I nodded. "Let's get our money and get the hell out."
"Speaking my language," he smirked.
He moved for the door and leaned out, calling for the attendant. I looked at myself in the full-body mirror and did a quick turnaround. I had to admit, I looked pretty darn stylish. The white gloves, belt, and hat looked pretty good against the dark blue and gold buttons.
The woman returned and smiled at both of us, her curls bouncing as she tossed her gaze cartoonishly left and right between us. "You two look good!"
"Thanks," I smiled back. "When do we get our sign-on bonus?"
"Oh, don't worry about that just yet," she said, moving back to her desk. "Do you boys know how to shoot?" she asked as she sat down.
"Shoot?" Tovin asked.
"A gun," she clarified, her smile fading. "Have either of you shot a gun?"
"No, ma'am," I answered. "Our parents didn't let us near them growing up."
"That's no problem," she said, lifting her hands. "We're happy to teach you the basics. You'll just exit the room and go left down to the very end of the hallway. I'll buzz you through the double doors at the end, and Old Mitchell will take you from there."
Tovin audibly groaned, and I took him by the arm, leading him out of the room. We walked down the hallway as he bellyached about what a waste of time it was. It was unlike him to turn his nose up at the opportunity to learn the ins and outs of a new weapon. In fact, he'd been acting weirdly childish lately. I didn't like it. It beat dealing with Tovin-Classic, but it was still a hassle. As we neared the end of the hallway, we began hearing the sound of guns being fired one by one.
The doors buckled and hummed the same as the first door had, and we pushed them open. We passed into a large room with Diesillians shooting at targets a good distance away. This was why the building was so large and the lobby was so small. The brick walls were covered in informational and safety posters, as well as what appeared to be schematics for the weapons themselves.
I looked across the large room to see a man striding toward us. He was wearing shiny black boots that were laced tightly to his calves. His pants and jacket were hunter green, and he bore perhaps the silliest mustache I'd ever seen; It was long and curled at the tips. I had to be careful not to snicker– his eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, and I couldn't tell if he was watching me.
"New recruits?" he called out to us from entirely too far away.
"Yes sir," I called back. "My brother and I just signed up."
"Brothers!" he exclaimed. "I love it, dammit!" He stopped in front of us. He was chewing on something and was being as obnoxious as he possibly could about it. He was wearing perhaps the stupidest hat I had seen of the Diesel yet. It had no visible brim and was high on one side while sloping down toward the other. For the life of me, I couldn't discern the purpose of it.
"You boys know how to shoot?" he asked.
"No sir," I shook my head. "We're new at this."
"Good," he smiled widely. "That means you haven't formed any bad habits yet. I love newbies," he said before waving for us to follow him. "Come on, let's get you your rifles. I'm Mitch, but folks around here call me Old Mitchell."
"James," I said as I followed after him. "This is my brother William." It was difficult to talk over the noise of the weapons. I occasionally jumped when someone shot their gun nearby– a reflex I couldn't wait to be rid of. He led us to a small room; so small that it might as well have been a glorified safe. He disappeared inside and came back out holding two guns. The same long metal tubes Tovin and I had been attacked with at O'Malley's inn.
We each took one and promptly inspected it. Suddenly, Old Mitchell stepped forward and grabbed both of our guns by the barrel, lifting them so they were pointed at the ceiling.
"You boys ever even held one of these?" he barked. "Careful where you aim. Never point one of these at anything or anyone that you're not prepared to destroy."
"They sweep you, Mitch?" asked a man as he passed behind us.
"Pointed 'em right at me," he called back with a laugh. "We'll get 'em straightened out, don't you worry about that." He looked at us both, chewing aggressively. "Now I'm gonna let these rifles go. You keep 'em pointed up, you understand?"
"Yes, sir," I answered.
"Sure," Tovin said in a disinterested tone.
He let go of our rifles and we kept them pointed at the ceiling as we were told. I looked up and down the length of the tube before turning it over and inspecting the area under the barrel. It was split underneath with what looked like some kind of spring running along the length of the tube.
"They're not loaded," Mitch said, waving for us to follow him to the other side of the room. "But you will always treat them like they are. I'm going to show you how to load them over here. Set them down on the desk, I'm gonna stand between the two of you so I can watch you both."
I set my gun down in front of me and looked to my right. There was a box of what I presumed to be bullets. I expected them to be round pellet-like projectiles, but they were tubular with roughly textured heads on them.
"Turn your weapon over. You'll notice you can see a spring inside the bottom of the barrel. Close to the other end of your gun, you'll find a little round tab there. Take that tab and push it with your thumb all the way up toward the tip of the barrel. You'll then pop it out to the side there."
I did as he asked, and sure enough, the barrel popped out to the left at the tip of the weapon. I glanced over at Tovin who was struggling with the spring. Old Mitchell moved over and helped him with it. "Sometimes they get stuck," he muttered as he got Tovin to the same step I was at.
"Now," he shouted. "Take your ammunition right there in the box next to you, and begin placing the rounds into the underside of the barrel, flat side first. Then, you'll load more bullets into the gun overlapping one another. Be careful not to let the rounds collide with one another too heavily, or you could have a little accident."
I loaded the bullets carefully one after another until the barrel was about full. He checked on Tovin's rifle, and then inspected mine.
"Good. Now realign the barrel, there and come with me to the bay," he said, starting toward the practice range. I carefully lifted the weapon and rested it against my shoulder, turning with Tovin to follow him. When we stopped at the range, he motioned for Tovin first. "Come on, Will, we're gonna start with you."
"Pass," he said nonchalantly.
Old Mitchell blinked twice. "What?"
"I want to see Gill do it first," he said, stepping out of my way.
"It's a nickname," I said quickly, stepping up to the range. "Anyways, I'll go first, I don't mind, what do I do here?"
Mitch remained silent for a couple of seconds before clapping his hands once. "Okay! Well, go ahead and pull the hammer back."
I looked down at the weapon and then back up at him. Sensing my confusion, he carefully reached forward and pulled back a little tiny lever on the top of the rifle until it clicked. "That's called pulling the hammer back," he said. "Will, you watching this?"
He didn't wait for a response. "Next thing you're gonna do is pull that lever out underneath the gun. That's going to load the weapon with a fresh cartridge. You're gonna do that between every shot, now. Lift it up against your shoulder like this; get it snug in there." He pulled it against my shoulder. "Look down the iron sight there at the tip of the rifle and line it up against your target. Your weapon is primed and ready to fire. You're good for fifteen shots before you've got to reload. You can always flip it over to see how many bullets are left. Go ahead and aim carefully, and try and hit that target paper down there."
At the end of the range, there was a piece of paper with a silhouette of a human head, shoulders, and torso. I closed one eye for better aim and held the gun tightly as I lined up my shot.
"Don't pull the trigger," Mitch advised in my left ear. "Squeeze it. Squeeze the trigger until it doesn't move easily anymore. Then when you're sure about your aim, squeeze with just that little bit of extra strength you need."
I did as he said, and felt what he was referring to. With my target in sight, my hand steady, and my aim as true as I could hope for, I fired the weapon. The shot rang out right in my ear, but interestingly enough, it wasn't so bad when I was the one firing. I was ready for it, and expecting it.
"Holy smokes!" exclaimed Mitch. "You put one right between the eyes!"
"Beginners's luck," said a man from behind me. "I did the same thing first time I shot, and never did it again."
"Let's prove him wrong, James," Old Mitchell laughed. "Now use that lever under the gun to eject the casing and load a fresh bullet."
I pulled the lever and the shiny little bullet casing popped out the top and flew over my shoulder. It was a really satisfying feeling.
"Do I pull the hammer again? I asked.
"Nope, it'll pop back down. You'll only pull that hammer back the first time. Go ahead and fire again, only this time, aim for the neck."
"Alright," I said, closing my eye and tightening my focus. I squeezed the trigger just as I had the first time and shot a hole straight through the center of the target's neck. I lifted my head and smiled. "I hit it!"
"No way," said the man behind me. "Ain't never shot before, my ass. He's taking you for a ride, Mitch."
"You're sure you're new at this, son?" Old Mitchell asked, one eye half shut. "That's really impressive, kid. Seriously, if this is your first time holding a rifle, you might be cut out for the military. Had a staff sergeant with worse aim than you."
"Alright, alright," Tovin pushed me aside. "My turn. Let me show you something you'll never forget."
The two of us took turns shooting for hours. We hadn't even noticed the time going by. For once, it seemed Tovin had found something he wasn't naturally amazing at, and it was infuriating him to no end.
Conversely, I found something I was really, really good at. I hit my target almost every time, and to be honest, I couldn't figure out what was so difficult about it. A crowd had gathered to watch me shoot. I got really swift with the lever, and could shoot out both of a target's eyes, and put one in its forehead in a matter of seconds.
Tovin wasn't a bad shot, but I knew how he felt. If he wasn't first, he was last as far as he was concerned, and at one point he about threw his rifle. Old Mitchell had to talk to him about how some things come naturally to others, and how he shouldn't be discouraged from coming to the range and practicing.
It was rich hearing Tovin get that talk of all people. The natural genius that outshined everyone, struggling with something for the very first time. I almost couldn't believe I was better than him at something, and of course, it just had to be the thing that we'd never do again once we found our friends and went back home.
Our friends.
We were wasting time here. "Hey, Mitchel," I turned toward him. "When do we get our sign-on bonus? It was supposed to be something like 200 octims."
"You get your sign-on bonus when you bring back your first bounty," he responded quickly.
"What?" Tovin shouted. "That's not fair! We signed on, now where's our money?"
I was equally upset. We were lied to. But it made sense that they couldn't just hand us uniforms, cash, and a gun, and let us go. They wanted to make sure we at least killed a monster.
"It's fine," I said with a sigh. "Where can we find bounties?"
"It's not fine," Tovin protested.
I yanked him by the collar of his shirt and looked him in the eyes. "It's fine," I said slowly and firmly. "We'll run out, bag a monster, and be back before dark."
He held eye contact with me for several seconds before shrugging me off of him and walking away. He stormed across the bay and left through the double doors at the other end of the room.
"My brother was the same way," said Mitch. "Hard-headed. Stubborn as a mule. Loyal as anyone you'd ever meet though."
He had no idea. Tovin wasn't just difficult, but he was turning into a walking liability. I didn't know how much longer I could take him acting like this. Suddenly, Mitch extended his arm, pointing to a door adjacent to where he'd gotten our guns from.
"Bounty board is in there. Come on, I'll show you."
It was a medium-sized room with several corkboards wall to wall filled with bounties. Every monster was named and almost all of them were sketched to a professional degree. You could find how much money the monster was going for, which hunters it had killed, where it was last seen, as well as whether or not there were hunters currently after it.
They had a system where you would notate which monster you were going after, and if you didn't return, they'd add your name under the list of hunters that died searching for it. There were so many monsters I couldn't believe it, and according to Old Mitchell, these were only the monsters within a five-mile radius of Bronzegirder.
I learned the process of choosing a bounty and chose a smaller monster with no names under its fatality list. Mitch agreed it was a good monster for beginners, and offered a few pointers for tracking it. I submitted the bounty request and got it approved before leaving the bay and heading down the hall in search of Tovin. I entered the lobby and didn't see him. I left the building and found him at the top of the steps staring out into the street where a couple of vehicles were hauling something massive together under a tarp.
Several uniformed hunters were walking slowly next to the vehicles. Their uniforms were tattered and bloodstained, and a few of them walked with a limp. We watched as the exhausted men passed the building on their way down the road. Two of them were sobbing silently, but we could tell by their exposed teeth and wrinkled expressions that they'd lost someone.
From beneath the tarp, a scaly limb fell off the side of the vehicle and dangled lifelessly. It was a reptilian-looking arm with an open wound, and the shredded remnants of a uniform hanging from its claws.
"Gill," Tovin said quietly. "Is that..."
"Yeah," I answered.
"That's definitely a monster."
Writing Prompt Submitted by u/My-Last-Hope

I'll try to make this short and sweet. We live on a cul de sac and are pretty friendly with our neighbors. The house to the left of us, family of 5 (kids ages 7-13; parents in their late 30s) do not maintain their property. The side yard that borders ours is disgusting. The man is a hoarder so he is constantly trash picking and keeps it all in the side yard for us and anyone that visits us to see. We went as far as spending over a thousand dollars installing a privacy line of trees (they haven't grown enough to block our view). Thats besides the point, we and everyone else on our block make sure our properties look nice. We spend time, energy, and money to do this.
Aside from junk (old chairs, bikes, basketball nets, broken trampoline, huge piles of brush and weeds, random metal things, etc) there is standing water, and now a "tent" aka four posts and tarps that he put up. It literally looks like a homeless shelter. The side of the house is covered in Lowes TYVEK from when he started a project THREE YEARS AGO.
My husband and I don't know the best way to approach it. The thing is, we want to remain on good terms and don't want to hurt feelings. However, they KNOW it looks bad. They joke about it looking horrible. We have insinuated that yes, it looks bad. But they don't do anything about it. I want to call the township. My husband wants to have a conversation. But we don't know what to say. Any advice on what to say/do would be greatly appreciated.
EDIT: I should also note that time and money is not the issue for them. They are constantly out getting drinks, doing things, buying things, etc. I swear every other day she is posting pictures of her getting drinks and food with her friends which irritates me even more. She gets her nails done, her lips done, tattoos, goes to the gym, etc. If you have time to do that stuff, just clean up your yard too!
tl;dr: neighbor's yard is a mess, they know, they don't care. How can we phrase the conversation or should we just call the township

I'll try to make this short and sweet. We live on a cul de sac and are pretty friendly with our neighbors. The house to the left of us, family of 5 (kids ages 7-13; parents in their late 30s) do not maintain their property. The side yard that borders ours is disgusting. The man is a hoarder so he is constantly trash picking and keeps it all in the side yard for us and anyone that visits us to see. We went as far as spending over a thousand dollars installing a privacy line of trees (they haven't grown enough to block our view). Thats besides the point, we and everyone else on our block make sure our properties look nice. We spend time, energy, and money to do this.
Aside from junk (trash, old chairs, bikes, basketball nets, broken trampoline, huge piles of brush and weeds, random metal things, etc) there is standing water, and now a "tent" aka four posts and tarps that he put up. It literally looks like a homeless shelter. The side of the house is covered in Lowes TYVEK from when he started a project THREE YEARS AGO.
My husband and I don't know the best way to approach it. The thing is, we want to remain on good terms and don't want to hurt feelings. However, they KNOW it looks bad. They joke about it looking horrible. We have insinuated that yes, it looks bad. But they don't do anything about it. I want to call the township. My husband wants to have a conversation. But we don't know what to say. Any advice on what to say/do would be greatly appreciated.
EDIT: I should also note that time and money is not the issue for them. They are constantly out getting drinks, doing things, buying things, etc. I swear every other day she is posting pictures of her getting drinks and food with her friends which irritates me even more. She gets her nails done, her lips done, tattoos, goes to the gym, etc. If you have time to do that stuff, just clean up your yard too!

Recently Łukasz Olkowicz from Przegląd Sportowy made an interview with Łukasz Skorupski. Here's original: https://przegladsportowy.onet.pl/pilka-nozna/reprezentacja-polski/wszystko-wyplynelo-tak-sie-klocilismy-o-premie-ze-nie-gadalismy-z-pewnymi-zawodnikami/ys6v8bj
And here’s translation:
​
Łukasz Olkowicz: You know what interests people.
​
Lukasz Skorupski: Bonus?
​
Bonus. Didn't it occur to you that people would be furious when they found out about it?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: We knew. We were talking to each other and we knew they could be fucking furious.
​
And that didn't stop you?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: It wasn't our idea. The prime minister promised a bonus. In words, nothing on paper.
​
But you agreed.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: There was a chat between us: We'll get it - nice. We'll not get it? We didn't go crazy about it. You understand? The bonus was too much because it was too big.
​
You negotiated part of it yourself. At dinner with the prime minister, you got ten million more.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: I was talking about something, but it was for funnies. And the prime minister accepted it. In my opinion, at such tournament, we should not talk about the bonus at all, everything should be settled on paper before the World Cup. There was little we could do. They told us about it just before leaving to Qatar, we were goiing to the airport right away. Normally, we would have arranged this beforehand.
​
When did you start talking about the bonus in Qatar?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: After promotion from the group. Some things journalists wrote were true, some things not. Arguments started between us, talks with the coach. We've all been so excited in the team, I'll be honest: bonus, bonus, when is the bonus?
​
And you know what's best?
​
That you didn't get it?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: No, that the team had a great atmosphere at the tournament. For example, we would come back from training and sing songs. We laughed that we are like Brazil. Because this Brazil was having fun after each training on drums, and we would come back and sing songs from the 90s, 2000s. We had our loudspeaker in the back, everyone chose, and then the rest picked up. Great stuff. Same music at the gym. It was fucking awesome, really. After the games we went out for dinner, we took care of the atmosphere. We were a good group, we were close. The atmosphere was fantastic and then it all went downhill.
​
Money ruined it. You had an argument over the distribution of the bonus.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: We are promoted fromt the group and instead of being happy, we suddenly started arguing about this bonus. You'll have so much, others so much. But we were arguing so much that we didn't talk to certain players. And the day before we sang together. The match against France was approaching. "Lewy" says, the team council: "Gentlemen, let's make a deal. We can't think about the bonus, only about the match." We agreed not to talk about this bonus anymore. With all due respect to money, but no one on the team lacks it. Calm came back, we played the game.
​
The best in the tournament.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: And then the story began in the newspapers.
​
Did you follow this?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: I read something, but you know more... They promised us an exaggerated bonus, but instead of being happy that we were promoted from the group, they started to shit on us.
​
You have exposed yourself. Wouldn't you be better off if you said, "We got lost in this, we lost our heads for a moment"? You said yourself the bonus was exaggerated.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: The media live off such information.
​
The media mainly shot at Czesław Michniewicz (NT coach) because of the bonus.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: I'll tell you that I felt a bit sorry for him. I had a good relationship with him.
​
Why didn't you answer?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: To whom?
​
To journalists. In his defense, if you wanted him to stay.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: We have agreed internally that we do not talk about it with the media. I guess "Lewy" later gave an interview about it, right?
​
And Grzegorz Krychowiak.
Łukasz Skorupski: Later, when we got along and the match against France was over, we sat down for dinner, drank some wine and everyone got over it.
Has the tension released?
Łukasz Skorupski: We didn't talk about the bonus anymore. A lot of people left immediately after the game. But let me tell you in general - the atmosphere was great. It was beautiful in that respect. Beautifully.
​
Have you heard discussions from Poland about the style of the national team's play? That people have doubts?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: We sometimes talked among ourselves that the style was average.
​
The team was successful, but people turned up their noses. Did you understand the criticism? Objections from fans and journalists?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: We understood, but we kept telling ourselves that the result is the most important thing. And the results were good?
​
Were.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: The game wasn't beautiful, everyone said it was ugly, but it delivered results. Why are you looking at me like that? We advanced from the group? We advanced.
​
Did you like this game?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Damn... I don't want to criticize Czesio like that either. The coach sets the tactics. He wanted us to play that way, so we did what he told us.
​
Did you believe in this tactic?
​
Lukasz Skorupski: What? It woked. We advanced from the group. At the club you play quite differently, more football. On the other hand, I understand Czesio a little. When was he supposed to train it? Like in the World Cup, we played every three days.
​
Others played differently.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Fuck, who were we playing with? With Argentina. They are the best players in the world, they set their own tactics.
​
And with Mexico?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: And what, did Mexico play well with the ball? Better than us?
​
You and they played not to lose. There wasn't too much risk.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: After all, we wanted to win. If we had scored a penalty, we would have won. What... We played so poorly?
​
The match against Mexico was considered the worst at the World Cup. Skorup, teeth hurt.
​
Lukasz Skorupski: Really? I do not know what I can say. But what, in total we drew 0-0. Should I criticize the coach now?
​
No, just don't get off topic. Tell me how did you react?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: We were aware that the fans were attacking us. On the other hand, such a tournament is the biggest in life, you don't want to spoil anything. And you can't go wrong. You understand? One mistake and it's over. You know you can't lose the first game. You play tournaments differently than you play qualifying. We wanted to leave this group, for us it was a success, wasn't it? When was such a success last time?
​
36 years ago.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: And why is it not talked about at all? There was talk about the bonus and style, and the fact that Poland went to the World Cup and left the group after 36 years and there was silence. Did we play badly against France?
​
Well.
Lukasz Skorupski: You see. We lost, but individually we were blown away by players who are the best in the world. Why do you think we played like that in Qatar?
​
Because that's what the coach chose. I think he thought the result would cover everything. It did not cover. The first such a long discussion about style has begun in Poland, in which both sides have arguments.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Exactly, everyone has their own opinion. I'm interested in winning matches, points. I'm out for the rest. For me, the most important thing is the result.
​
You don't care about style?
​
Lukasz Skorupski: No. I don't care when someone says that the national team or Bologna play badly. There are three points? There Are. Thank you. Who will remember in ten years how we played. They will remember our results.
​
Or that in the match against Argentina you ran to survive and lose as little as possible.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: It was our match for everything. It is known that this Argentina eats us with talent, right? We were there more with such working our assess off, we chose the simpliest football. We were tried to stay in the tournament. We couldn't risk anything. Nothing. That's the truth.
​
But then it goes out into the world that one of you ran around asking them not to shoot again.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: But is it true?
​
You tell me.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: I don't know if anyone asked for it. Any Argentinian could say that. Honestly, I haven't heard anything like that.
​
You are the goalkeeper. Don't you think outfield players want to have some fun with the ball so it doesn't fly over their heads?
​
Lukasz Skorupski: Points. Result. That's the most important thing for me.
​
Maybe you don't get tired, but such Piotr Zieliński for sure.
​
Lukasz Skorupski: Ha, ha. Well, I think he was struggling in Qatar. He played somewhere on the right or left side. We used "Zielu" wrong, and he has such skills.
​
What is the problem?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: See how he plays for Napoli. You pass him the ball, he has three players on his back and he won't lose it.
​
Why can't this be applied to the national team? Not only with Michniewicz, it was there before.
​
Lukasz Skorupski: I don't know. I think the defenders and the goalkeeper also have to play well.
​
We don't have players so weak to play so badly.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Well, no, I think the same. It'll be all right.
​
With Santos?
​
Lukasz Skorupski: I don't know him. I mean I know him as a coach, but I don't know what the style will be.
​
He said defense is the most important thing.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Do you know what Allegri was saying? You know what Chiellini and Bonucci were talking about? That the Italian championship is won by those who concede the fewest goals.
​
In the national team, you got in touch with Jacek Góralski. You have a similar past.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Maybe he has even worse.
​
Downtown. Bydgoszcz.
​
Lukasz Skorupski: Oh Jesus. We talked about it. He told me a lot, had a few actions.
​
Did you like each other right away?
​
Lukasz Skorupski: Right away. "Góral" is direct. Fucking great dude.
​
Dude, buddy or friend?
​
Lukasz Skorupski: A friend. From the national team he and "Zielu". The best.
​
But with Piotr Zieliński, you are fire and water.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: We get along. He is also so…
​
What?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Not as much of a psycho as me, but a similar mentality.
​
What do you mean?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Also such a fox, he had some actions when he was young.
​
I've seen his posts on the internet.
​
Lukasz Skorupski: Not that. Some fights, no fights. "Zielu" is fucking great. First of all, helpful, if you need something, it's right away. You know, he plays for Napoli, the Champions League and doesn't try to be a star at all.
​
In the movie "Transsiberian" one of the characters utters the phrase: "Do not kill my demons, because the angels will die too." What about your demons today?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Sometimes they are… But I hide it well. In Italy they don't even know I'm like that.
​
Are you or have you been?
​
Lukasz Skorupski: I was. I don't want to go back to that life at all.
​
Do you control your demons?
​
Lukasz Skorupski: I control. I am 31 years old, I have a child, a wife. I play football professionally, for ten years in Serie A. I earn good money, damn. You know how it is. I can't be stupid anymore.
​
Do you think you're securing the future right now? Not only yours.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: I'll make a living from it, so I have to make the most of it. I have to. I can't play the clown, risk to go out or something. I'll tell you, I don't even want to anymore. See how cold it is in Bologna today.
​
Minus one.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: In such weather, when I was 20, I would put on a T-shirt, a leather jacket over it and go to the city.
​
Now you're constantly complaining that you're cold.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: You don't even want to leave the house. Do you understand how it all changes?
​
You said yourself you'd rather invite your friends over to your house than spend the night at a party.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: The family is there, the kid is here. Everything worked out well. And I really prefer the way we sat down yesterday - we talked, watched the match, drank a glass of wine. Why the fuck would I go somewhere. Everyone knows each other in Bologna, right.
​
I think even if they didn't know you, you wouldn't go out.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Well, I don't want to anymore. I guess it's age, huh?
​
I already told you. We are getting older.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: When I think about what I did in Górnik… Parties until eight in the morning, and training at nine. The body has changed too. If I did that now, I'd be walking backwards for three days. No discos at all. I will go out with my wife to a restaurant for dinner, sit, talk and go home. Where should I go? Of course, I can afford more during the holidays, then you can make something.
​
I like the custom in Italian teams that you and your teammates go out for dinner every week.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: They have, We have such a custom in Italy.
​
In Empoli you went out on Wednesdays.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: And today Stefan Posch was punished for being late for training. We were already training and he came in after ten minutes. The day before we came back late from the match, he couldn't sleep, and in the morning he overslept. The punishment was to buy dinner for everyone. He paid today. It might have cost him a bit.
​
At least the team is connecting.
​
Lukasz Skorupski: Yes, yes. There's a punishment or something and a supper.
​
Did you pay fines in Bologna?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: It wasn't a punishment, but after signing a new contract with Bologna, I bought dinner for the whole team. I'm not getting fines now. I'm not late, never happened to me. Sorry, I came too late at Nawałka's (former Polish NT coach and Skorupski's coach in Górnik) once.
​
In Górnik or in the national team?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: In Górnik. Imagine that we went to a party after practically every game. Once we lost to Polonia Warszawa 0:4. I don't know if you remember this game.
​
No.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: We lost and I say: "Fuck it, I'm not going anywhere". I didn't go and… I overslept. Dropping in for briefing, man... 10,000 fine from the coach.
​
He probably thought about Katowice at night.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: I didn't even say anything to him, I didn't explain myself. He wouldn't have believed it anyway. And that's the only time I haven't gone anywhere and I've missed my check-in. Jesus. That's how it stuck in my head that I've been vigilant ever since. Coach Nawałka used to look deep into your eyes. He greeted us, passed his hand and approached within five centimeters. Do you know why?
​
Did he want to emphasize his sincerity?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: He was getting closer like this, give me your hand, the left one, because my right one hurts. He brought his nose close to your face and sniffed. He knew some people were drinking.
​
Ha, ha.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Well, I promise you.
​
I was told by the players of Świt Krzeszowice, the first club where Nawałka started as a coach, how he checked them to see if they had drunk anything. During the camps he visited them in their rooms. "What's up gentlemen?" How do you feel? - He was asking. "All right, coach," they replied. - Oh, I found some lint - he picked up a crumb from the carpet and carried it to the bin. He looked for beer caps.
​
Lukasz Skorupski: You see. With us, he would look at you and say, "Okay? Are you okay? Are you ready?" He knew that when there was a match, there could also be a party. He is sly. He wanted to introduce professionalism to Górnik. Because in order to achieve something with the team he had, he had to do it.
​
If you hadn't met Nawałka, would we be talking in Italy now?
​
Lukasz Skorupski: I don't think so. I'm afraid that I would not play in Italy and I would stay in Poland and play in Ekstraklasa. I had talent, but without the discipline and working us to the ground he unleashed in me, I wouldn't have excelled.
​
The perfect coach at that moment for someone as defiant as you?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: I was tough, I had it in me, because it's family with us. We don't cry, we don't feel sorry for ourselves. Something really serious had to happen to go to the doctor. If you cut something, it's no big deal. For them, it was such a shame to cry at the doctor's office because something hurt. We grit our teeth and say hello. That's my whole family. What, I also did not go to coach Nawałka with such trifles. It was so with him that if there was a foul in training and someone was lying down, he would approach with a clear message: "You get up or it's time to leave training". Really. He was still asking. "What, an ambulance?! An ambulance?! Are we calling an ambulance or are you getting up?" And suddenly everyone got up. "And yet it doesn't hurt," he triumphed.
​
Did he end pretending?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Everyone in the team finished. You know, when there was a perfidious tackle, then the coach would get angry and admonish: "Too much." But some kind of slide, a sharp entry, without crying. And man, at one point, no one cried anymore. Everyone got up immediately and developed a character on it. We were fucking going and we rode this rhythm. We walked like soldiers. I really appreciate it. Thiago Motta in Bologna also has such a character. It's like, "Something hurts? Okay, then get off the field." He doesn't care if it's me or someone else. For him, the most important thing is who works in training.
​
Once I talked to the referees, they said that Górnik was the easiest to ref. Because the players did not pretend, they did not argue with the referees. There was a ban from the coach.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: The coach threatened that if we get a yellow card for talking, we will be punished immediately. I'll tell you he was right about that. He showed how important details and discipline are. He gave me my debut in Ekstraklasa in Wrocław with Śląsk together with Milik and Olkowski. I owe him a lot, he developed my character, he taught me discipline.
​
And hard work in training.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: He was famous for working hard.
​
Only four workouts a day.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Just so you know that we really at the camps practiced three or four times a day. I remember the camp in Grodzisk Wielkopolski, where we started at six in the morning - oxygen, i.e. running. Honestly? I'll tell you, we complained, complained, and now I appreciate it. I'm in Italy and I'm not at all scared of their work here.
​
Thanks to working with Nawałka, was it easier for you to find yourself in Serie A?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: The approach I got to know thanks to him in Górnik, I met after coming to Italy. In my opinion, it has been abroad for a long time, but not yet in Poland at that time.
​
You said that you and Nawałka keep in touch and write text messages.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Sometimes the coach will talk after the match. At the World Cup, he wrote to me in his style: "Congratulations, we keep fighting." When I defended against the Netherlands or Chile, he texted me that it was a good match.
​
You sent back longer responses to show him you'd changed. No "Thank you", but a few lines.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: I have to let him know that this is another Łukasz Skorupski. Because you know, I changed with him, I was a bit of a boor. I grew up with Górnik fans, we were all the same in Zaborze.
​
Were you rude?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: You know that, well... When I met Nawałka in Górnik, man, he also started teaching me such kindnesses. "Thank you, please, why don't you talk like that?" he pointed out. And so to all players, not just me. Thank the lady at the laundry. Thank the lady in the kitchen.
​
"Good morning" must be said.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: I didn't always say before. I will remember coach Nawałka well. In national team we talk about him a lot.
And what are you talking about?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: That "Nawala" was fucking awesome. Everyone knows that we worked hard and everything was arranged like in the army. But man... There was no money in Górnik, but he was able to arrange everything in such a way, to wind up the president of Zabrze that she paid us salaries every month. Because earlier in Górnik they paid once every six months. The coach came and we came to him to help with these payouts. He met with the president and they started paying monthly. We didn't have rarities, but some fruits appeared after training.
​
The fields had to be even.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Bartek Spałek, our masseur, I remember that he took creatine, some other supplements, conditioners. Everything was coming in.
​
Was it Nawałka who introduced it?
​
Lukasz Skorupski: Yes! Earlier, come on, and he introduced such a greater professionalism - breakfasts in the club, dinners in the club. He was trying to put it all together. Although I remember, honestly, that sometimes we complained about it.
​
You called him Fidel.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: It was like that, we were exercising at the gym. He was looking one way and you did eight reps instead of ten. Right away he would be angry with you: "How much have you done?! Eight! Two more!". I don't know how he saw it, but he didn't miss a thing man, he saw it all. At one point, the team thought, "Well, there's no resisting and there's a ride. We're going this way." We didn't have any outstanding players, and we were standing well in the table, even in sixth place.
​
And many got promoted: you, Paweł Olkowski, Arek Milik.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Each of us has gone abroad. It was so that when Nawałka started, I did not believe in such things at all. He brought Remek Rzepka to the club, I think he studied in America. And he introduced what the entire Ekstraklasa is doing now. And yet we are talking about what happened ten years ago in Poland. They were the first to introduce rollovers.
​
How did you react?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: I did it, but with the thought - what the fuck is this? Shall I roll some muscles? Some rubber, extra work? Give me the ball and the games. And they began to notice that motor skills are improving, that injuries are prevented. In Górnik, everyone had to be at the gym half an hour before training.
​
And you are doing it in Bologna now.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: It's normal abroad. In Poland, it came with coach Nawałka. You know how it was in Ekstraklasa. Earlier, probably with coach Wieczorek... Although I don't remember. Okay, never mind. I was already playing in the first team, and I would arrive at the club at 10:50. Five minutes to get changed and at 11 I left for training. End of training, bath and departure.
​
This would not work for Nawałka.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: You had to be in his locker room 45 minutes before training. Let me tell you, I really appreciate it now. The best coach I had in Poland. I always talked when I was playing for Górnik that coach Nawałka should join the national team. He's gonna make all these rules, damn it. And you see - he did some result.
​
Quarterfinals of the European Championship.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Damn, well... But let me tell you that at the national team it was a bit different. Lighter.
​
At the first team training camp in Grodzisk Wielkopolski there was also a similar drill, only the players told him to let it go.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: I wasn't there yet. He was so much more laid back after that. And you can't go like that during training sessions with the national team, because you play two matches a week. You come prepared from the club, you work on tactics without great strength and so on, because the match is coming soon. This is what it looks like in the national team. More could be done when it was EURO, where we had two weeks of preparation. Now at the World Cup, we didn't live in training either. All the time tactics and matches. But, you know, you've been in form because you're coming mid-season.
​
I always remember Coach Nawałka well. I don't know how he did it, because there was poverty in Górnik, but at some point we had everything I said - nutrients, some fruit after training. We were paid our salaries every month. We went to Zakopane for the camp. Oh Jesus. We stayed in one of the best hotels. And what the fuck, how much we ran. But let me tell you - I have respect for the fact that he developed such a character for me.
​
A lot of coaches could kick you out of the club for "Lorneta and Medusa", where you fought with other customers and trashed the place.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Well fuck, that's why I'm telling you. He gave me a second chance, he did a great job. After it happened, I had a meeting with him at the club. I entered the coach room without knocking. I sat down on the sofa right away, I remember that. The coach looked at me strangely: "What are you doing?! Get up, leave and come back like a normal person." So I went out, this time I knocked. I sat down and told him everything how it was.
​
How did he react?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Nice, because he said that he also did stupid things in his youth. It happens to young people, you know you have to go crazy. The most important thing for him was not to do it again. And I didn't repeat it. I didn't play in the first match after this action, but in the next round I was again in the lineup. I had a good season, my best in Ekstraklasa. Because you know, damn, I wanted to repay him a little.
​
Well, but he gave up on your brother.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Not him, but club's board.
​
Michał was after a serious injury and trained as a guest with the first team of Górnik. He had a chance to stay.
​
Lukasz Skorupski: Exactly. He was injured, he did not have a contract with Górnik, but he could train with us. We just did this action in "Lorneta and Meduza" and they thanked him right away.
​
As the first.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Earlier there was an idea to offer him a contract. I got a penalty, Olo Kwiek got a penalty, Adam Danch got a penalty.
​
How did the 20-year-old, promising player in Ekstraklasa felt arrested?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Four of us were in arrest - me, Adam Danch, Olek Kwiek and my brother. Each in a different cell. And man, what's going on down there? You sit and sleep with a break for food.
​
Although good?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: A piece of bread and tea in a metal mug. Jesus. The worst days of my life. I promise you. The worst three days of my life! I had everything ruffled, you're lying in the same clothes. Nor bathe, only pee somewhere next to people.
​
Who were you sitting with?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: With a guy who sold drugs to someone else who died. You understand?
​
With a dealer.
​
Lukasz Skorupski: Yes. Life is like that. I don't know how in Italy they will read it and ask: what the...? Even though it was ten years ago, write that it was ten years ago.
​
You had a black eye then.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: We sat in the same clothes and waited for them to take us out. We left after three days. We were pulled out by the late Krzysiu Maj with Bartek Laburda. Before that, there was also a sobering-up room. You go, you strip down to your panties and you sleep like that. Just so you know, because there are some psychos... They take their belts off, everything. You are lying on a mattress on the ground, and the worst thing is that there are twenty people in the room and there is no toilet.
​
How did Matilde react to all this when you told her what you were like?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Well, she was in shock. But she also knows that I have changed. Also thanks to her. She appreciates that I was able to leave Zaborze and take care of myself, and you know what a difference it makes.
​
Big?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Man, no... Compared to my life in Poland, it's a gulf. She appreciates that I was able to adapt to another. This in Italy. You know how they live here, you've seen it - coffee, cappuccino. Although there is also crime in Italy.
​
You, for example, were robbed in Bologna.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Sometimes when I think about it, it still makes me furious. We lived on the ground floor in an apartment with a garden. I was playing at home against Napoli, Matilde left the house half an hour after kick-off. They had to watch her. After the match with my young and "Zielu" we still kicked the ball in the gym at the stadium. Leo knows his uncle, likes him. Everything's fine, we go home, and there's like a bomb went off. Everything is broken, lying on the ground. I felt fucking bad.
​
Matylda was in Zaborze?
​
Lukasz Skorupski: She was.
​
Did she like it?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: These were our beginnings, and you know how it is in a relationship - deeply in love, you won't say anything bad. Today, as she recalls that visit, she admits that she was shocked.
​
What shocked her the most?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: That Silesia is still so gray. And she's from Sardinia. For her, the strangest thing was that every block in Zaborze is the same. Only the number changes. She shook her head: "All the blocks are the same. Only the hospitals are different, and there is no difference." And what, well, I took her to Auschwitz, I remember. She insisted on going there. For Italians, this is a moving story, they take the history of the concentration camps seriously. She wanted to see, so we went. Today, when Matilde is in Poland, we mainly visit my family in the countryside. We will also go there this June.
​
Where?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: To my mother. It's a village, 50 kilometers from Brodnica. It takes an hour and a half to get to Toruń. Lakes, we have a boat, fish, bonfires in the evenings. It's fucking great there. Matilde likes it too, she loves nature. Boy, we're walking somewhere in the fields, and she raves about the cows. She's in love with animals, right. Cows, chickens, it doesn't matter.
​
The whole family from mother and father - cousins, aunts - lives there. They all live 15 kilometers next to each other. One family from mom, the other from dad. Here is one village, here is another, and there was a disco between them. My parents met there. Later, my father went to Silesia to work in a mine, and my mother with him.
​
Your dad wasn't interested in football.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: He was from the countryside, he had nothing to do with football. He didn't play it at all. The old man was a boxer. You know, he trained himself and boxed himself.
​
Did he go to your games?
​
Lukasz Skorupski: No. Rarely. I don't blame him. I never wanted to be daddy's boy. When I was young, he used to come to a game.
​
And when have you already played in Ekstraklasa?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: I don't think he came to Ekstraklasa even once. My old man wasn't a Górnik. He watched on TV.
​
When I started training in Zaborze when I was young, I jumped over the fence and was already on the pitch. Nobody had to see me off. When I was ten years old, times were different, I would get on a tram and drive an hour to training. Two transfers from Zaborze and you had to walk there too.
​
You were ten years old and you were already driving alone?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: We traveled from Zaborze in two or three. We had a training group where parents of other coaches licked ass, and I was always alone. I don't blame the old man for not coming. I know he worked hard and had to rest after the mine. Those who had more money, some business of their own, could come to their son whenever they wanted. They were sucking up to the coaches, giving gifts so that only the kid would play. I was the only one who didn't care about it. I was fucking great keeper in the youngsters and the coach loved me. His name is Jerzy Urban. Write it, write it, he will be happy. Sometimes we text each other. He treated me fairly even though I came without my parents and I didn't suck up to anyone. I was good and that was it, and he let me play. Other parents were furious: "Why doesn't my son play, I bought shirts for the team." The coach liked me so much that he would take me home after training and drink tea with the old ones.
​
Two years older brother, Michał, also played football.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: I think that as a goalkeeper I feel so good and agile because I had a different childhood. I would go outside with the boys and jump from tree to tree, doing some flips in the bushes. And train to add to that. Mom would let us out at nine o'clock in the morning, we would come back at 11 pm, when she was screaming from the window: "Come home!". That's how I grew up, huh.
​
I would never trade my childhood for anything. I went crazy. Jesus, you went to the lake, no matter if the water was warm or cold. When I was young, I spent my summers in the countryside. We drove tractors, I went to work to pick strawberries or potatoes.
​
Did they pay well?
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Tenner in an hour. We earned about 50pln a day. In the evening we met at the fire station and played a match, and at the end a shop and ice cream. The next day the same. Oh, I slept in the barn too.
​
Idyllic, carefree.
​
Łukasz Skorupski: Like in the countryside. It was a little different in the city. Although I played football everywhere - in the countryside and in the city.

Apparenyly I have been reported and blocked from further comments on the original thread. 🤷‍♀️
The same government office which handles birth records usually handles death records. They issue certified copies to interested parties.
It begs the question, who owns a death certificate How does a dead person own their death certificate that typically isn't issued until after the body has been laid to rest or cremated?
Answer: the dead person doesn't own the death certificate. The executor of the deceased person's estate obtains a copy from the state and is granted power of attorney by a court in order to settle the deceased person's business affairs, either driven by a valid will, or via established rules of distribution if the person dies intestate (without a will). The death certificate is a legal record of an event, that offers validated proof said event happened, the power of attorney grants the executor the ability to act on the dead person's behalf. BOTH are usually necessary to settle accounts and sell the deceased person's property or change deeds to those who inherit the deceased's property.
Property is defined this way (personal, not real property): Personal property can be acquired for ownership through production, purchase, or gift or, in certain circumstances, by finding it.[may vary slightly from state to state]
This is the basis of the phrase, "possession is 9/10 of the law." In the absence of a receipt showing purchase, then found or gift could be claimed, but the receipt showing purchase kinda serves as a trump card.
The child hasn't done any of these with respect to his/her birth certificate. The parents however, did pay a fee to obtain it. Paying the fee us most closely aligned with PURCHASE.
Just because the event is a child's birth doesn't make the physical piece of paper the personal property of the child named in the document. Truth : the parents are ALSO named in that document, the proof they are the child's legal guardians - useful for registering a child for school, assisting the child in getting a driver's license, a passport, or using it in conjunction to identify their child in the absence of a government issued ID or obtain government benefits.
What if great Aunt Judy who is 80 years old contacts the state and requests a certified copy of a birth certificate for her genealogy research? If a child's name/birth event is on it, according to the court of public opinion logic, it belongs to the child, not the one who paid the fee to obtain the certified copy of the instrument. So yeah, Let's sue Aunt Judy for documenting the family tree!! [Absurd!]
It is not automatically the child's property anymore than the furniture in the parent's home. It certainly NOT worth the level of hostility toward parents because they won't hand it over, as that is a purely emotional argument, NOT a legal one. [Hence the suggestion to understand Case/common law.] Litigation will reform one's thoughts on right/wrong when you read the legal arguments from appeals processes. Oftentimes in civil cases, BOTH litigants have valid legal arguments - then what? The judge seeks to find BALANCE (and the outcome is not acceptable to either party).
I am saying from a legal perspective - as someone who has spent three years in litigation and been threatened with real and personal property litigation in an inheritance situation, and been impacted by a spouse in bankruptcy litigation, the advice which was being given (cops, lawyers, suing), while validating to the original author, is largely FALSE - that the child has some legal claim to his/her birth certificate in his/her parents possession. Pursuing those options is far more costly from a time and money perspective than ponying up for a new certified copy. And if you were to choose those options over just getting a new certified copy, brace yourself for becoming the target of a judge's wrath for wasting the court's time and resources.
Embarrassment isn't abuse. If that's the case, we all abuse ourselves the worst.
My intentional overuse of the word PERHAPS was to establish there may be another perspective not yet considered, not because I am saying it is absolutely the OP's parents' perspective (I have no idea, so please don't read too much into it). But yeah, I'd love to hear THEIR side....because I have heard similar accusations because I have boundaries, which means I accept the risk of no contact when I do say "boundary crossed.... we're done here." That's what boundaries are all about, knowing where your line in the sand is drawn and being willing to act on it, even in the event the emotional abuser threatens no contact. [My door is open, but under the realistic expectation I won't stand for emotional abuse and gaslighting me with amateur psychology after I've spent thousands on therapy and perhaps over-questioned mybown Psychology PhD sibling about concepts.]
AND if anyone has a claim to our kid's birth certificate, it is her Dad (where I got it the day she turned 18 to get the driver's license he wouldn't support her getting because he knew once we gave her a car, he'd lose control, and he did, because I educated HER about her legal rights as an adult - that even though she hadn't yet graduated from HS, she was no longer subjected to a divorce decree's visitation schedule as Dad wanted her to believe - verified by a family law attorney). Said birth certificate has lived in our fireproof safe ever since, at HER request because she didn't want to misplace it.
It's technically Dad's, not hers. He hasn't asked for it back, and she was rude AF about it, using the false logic it is HER property, and the emotional abuse was all about "Dad says this about you", "Dad says that about you." Dad doesn't know a blessed thing about me 16 years after I left except her gossip (same gossip she used to get into our house until she figured out we had rules, too, and wouldn't be manipulated either). He's not exactly my bestie, and we are divorced for a reason. Doesn't mean I have to give in to a$$holery.
Funny how when parents behave toward their kids like the kids behave toward their parents - when they have no legal standing to do so - the parents are ALWAYS the a$$holes.
I'm not saying there aren't entitled parents, like the most recent thread I saw about a woman yanking a mask off another person's face for her kid, but when our kids think they can yank OUR things (like earnings) when they are adults and frustrated with the uphill climb to earn their own, WE are the a$$holes? I used to think the same, until I saw how the courts perceive these things, and realized none of our individual perceptions of right/wrong apply.
My bank account showing $25k of support over a 2.5 year period after HS graduation and divorce decree/child support expiration says otherwise about my willingness to support my kid. I do NOT have to continue to support an ungrateful brat whose average job tenure is at/around 3-4 months and decides she no longer wants to work (that was the deal - she keeps a job while going to school).
Feelings are physical responses to external stimuli - not necessarily facts or evidence.You can retrain yourself - through grounding exercises, to respond without the emotion that comes with reaction, and oftentimes, kids push that limit too far thinking parents should love them unconditionally, even beyond their monetary means. We can love our kids, even when we can't stand them for being immature humans. But we can't fabricate money we do not have.
Live well, people. And know when you have boundaries and are true to yourself, people will not like it, call you names, and tell you how awful you are. Did I give ample warning the outcome was a possibility (that the mostly free ride could end if the boundaries set weren't honored? Yep. Twice, and I let her return. Third time? No. 🤷‍♀️
No contact is indeed an option, but not usually one you want to exercise until you've spent years in therapy considering all the other options. It CAN be freeing, but it can also become a much larger burden of grief and eliminate a child unnecessarily from a generational worth situation (where you get say, $10, and your siblings gets the rest of your parents million dollar estate - my step-dad did this to one of his kids who went no contact ...even though he died in the late 90s, his kids are still in my Mom's will....except the no contact kid). The less of an estate or more kids can boil it down to "is $X thousand or million dollars if an inheritance WORTH this torture?" For those children who have grown into middle age, have kids and/or have done well for themselves, perhaps cutting off mom/Dad makes sense. For those sporting the label of adult who perhaps lack life experiende, I would recommend not making a hasty no contact decision (and when our daughter moved in with us I encouraged her to NOT do that to her Dad, but he encourages her to do that to me... he also struggled with respecting boundaries , so, no surprise our kid doesn't). It has become a real eye-opener to communicate boundaries and figure out who respects them, and who seeks to leverage them to manipulate me!
Every young person has to figure this out as an adult, just as we did. And until a young person understands juggling all the balls of jobs, bills, home ownership and kids, s/he is in no position to judge.
Heal by understanding that childhood trauma isn't about playing a blame game, but understanding the weaknesses in your own communication and coping skills, to give your inner child the skills your parents didn't possess to teach you (it wasn't their fault either!), or maybe they tried, but you tuned them out for a screen (we have seen this a LOT amongst our peers with kids - if it doesn't come from the screen, it is worthless).
Parents have to choose to work on their own self-improvement, and will always have the same pressure points where you will see their worst when backed into a corner with no good options. It doesn't make them horrible, but oh so very human, just like you.

https://imgur.com/a/ReJzZBx
I went in for clear contact paper…which they didn’t have. Somehow ended up with a haul though😮‍💨 Temu has had my wallet lately too😅 highly recommend for those of you that have been curious about it! Similar to AliExpress but has fastefree shipping.
The little container is great for storing washi tape or stickers! And was shocked to find the clear stamps! Never seen them before. The tape is for my handmade cards and haven’t seen double-sided tape at Dollar Tree since around Christmas time. And they have such a cute selection of washi tape😊
What do you like to get from Dollar Tree for your cards/crafts?

Tyler and his kid sister sat at the kitchen table and ate uncooked pop tarts with milk. He glares across the table at her, right at the bright pink Hannah Montana shirt she wore all the time, the image of that teen idol's plastic smile burned into his brain. "So is Taylor still messing with you?" He asked. "No, not since you beat him up." "I wouldn't have had to if you hadn't of pissed him off. What did you do to him anyway..." "Oh you're gonna think I'm evil for this," She smiled with that same shit eating grin she knew annoyed him. He shook his head, "You are evil." He said taking a bite of poptart. "I kinda started a rumor that he had a crush on that guy Josh." Tyler made a *thump*on the table with his glass. "Well I'd kick your little ass too if I were him!" She busts out laughing, unconcerned with waking their hungover parents. They knew an earthquake wouldn't wake them after date night. "I didn't mean for it to get around as fast as it did. Me and Katy were joking around and I mentioned that I thought I saw Taylor trying to kiss Josh!" She washes some pop tart down with milk and wipes her mouth with the sleeve of her jacket. "Somebody must've overheard us talking and started spreading it around, so it was just an accident." Tyler shrugged just as he heard the bus pulling up. Then he turned his glass up, enjoying the cold milk falling down his dry throat. He threw his backpack over his shoulder and said, "YOU ARE AN ACCIDENT...let's go." Her grin turned upside down as she followed him out the door. "Well I'm mom and dad's favorite so BLAH."
They walked through the front yard heading toward the bus. Tyler comes to a halt and reaches his hand in front of Angel and stops her. "What?" she said. "You see Taylor right there don't you..." He nods toward the middle window of the bus where She recognized the chubby pale freckled face of Taylor Barns. "Yeah, so?" "He's not alone." Then she notices the other two boys glaring right at them. "Crap! they're gonna try and jump us! What do we do!?" She imagined herself getting beat up by Taylor's big ass while his friends beat up Tyler. "We're gonna walk to school. I don't feel like dealing with these assholes today." "We can't! That'll take forever to walk!" "I know a shortcut through the woods. We'll get there before they will." "I've never been in the woods...what if we get lost!" She insisted. Tyler grabbed her wrist and lead her away from the bus as it's doors closed and moved away. On the same block, stood the remains of a condemned house. She thought they were going inside, but then Tyler cuts and walks around it. Behind the old house was the beginning of thick brush and tall trees that had dead limbs hanging above. In front of them, leading through all of the fading green red and yellow colors of autumn, was a walked down path that stretched forward as far as She could see, and fallen leaves covering the ground every step of the way. "We can cut right through the woods and come up behind the school. It's only about a mile walk."
*Crunch*
Tyler stepped into the edge of the forest and made it several yards out before he realized he was alone. He turned around to see his little sister standing still with wide eyes. "Come on! we gotta hurry or we'll be late!" He yelled. "I don't want too..." Angel said, her voice shaking. "We don't have a choice, now come on!" "It's scary in there! I'm not going..." "Don't do this to me angel, not now goddammit..." He groaned hard, already feeling groggy from poor sleep, and more than pissed about the long terrible day he predicted would end with him fighting off three overweight kids with bad breath. Angel folds her arms and says with a smart ass tone, "I won't do it! and you can't," Tyler all but leaps over to her and grabs her by the scruff of her coat. "You listen to me you little shit, because of you I'm gonna have to deal with those assholes probably all year!" He growled through his teeth. "I don't want to walk through these woods either and because of you I don't have a choice. Now follow me or I'll leave you here!" She starts welling up with tears, but Tyler didn't buy it. She did that all the time with their parents just to get her way. "You won't leave me here! mom and dad will kill you!" calling Tyler's bluff. "FINE!" Tyler pushed her down on her butt and leaving her behind. "Tyler if you leave me here I'll go wake mom and dad up right now!" her confidence faded when he didn't look back or slow down as he marched forward on the trail. She didn't want too, but she knew she didn't have a choice. So she followed. "Oh God...I don't like this...HEY LET ME CATCH UP!" she began running through the brush trying to catch up to her brother.
He didn't want to talk to her or let alone even look at Angel. All he did was try to tune out her complaining for most of the walk. He kept a quick pace to stay ahead of her, and still kept track of her by listening to her bitch about the woods and how mean he always was to her. She dragged her feet through the leaves, sounding as though they were hissing at her for disturbing them. He could hear every step she took and knew she was still right behind him. *CRUNCH CRUNCH* He was sick of her. *CRUNCH CRUNCH* He was sick of her getting everything that he wanted . *CRUNCH CRUNCH* He was sick of being her caretaker. *CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH* He was sick of his parents treating her like a princess and treating him like a workhorse. He was so tired. The injustice of his situation was getting to be too much. He did most of the chores around the house and always after a full day at school. He wasn't a slacker academically either. He maintained a B average and could even score an -A- in math when he felt like it. Sleep was a problem lately. Now it was bad dreams. They started over a few weeks ago and he had been dealing with the grogginess and fatigue from it everyday. As he followed the path, he made wishes that his parents would stop dismissing his complaints and would actually try to help him with his sleep problem. Maybe they could take a little bit of that money they blew every weekend on weed and booze and get him some medicine that'll help him sleep. That's all he wanted. Maybe he'd Just skip school today, go home and lay back down in his bed. He didn't care if he got yelled at. He didn't care if he had another nightmare; bring on the damn SPIDERS! He started to enjoy the walk some. The weather was cool and the woods were grey and beautiful today. And It was quiet. Not even the birds were chirping like they do in the summer. Save for the sound of shuffling leaves under his feet, it was calm and tranquil out there...save for the sound of leaves.
*CRUNCH*
He stopped in his tracks. Now it was almost silent out there. After he enjoyed only a few minutes of a relaxing walk through the woods, he realized something terrible. Dread came crawling up in his guts as it dawned on him that he hadn't heard a second shuffle in the leaves this whole time; he had blocked it all trying to escape this day. He turned around to see that Angel was nowhere in sight. As far as he could see, she was gone.
He kicked up leaves and dirt running back down the path. He reached the spot in the trail where he thought he last heard her. He looked all around, but saw nothing; no evidence that she was ever here. He looked at all the rotting crumbling leafs and sticks littered on the ground everywhere searching for a trail she might have left behind, but he couldn't even find his own tracks in the cold dried dead earth that blanketed the area. He took a deep breath. "ANGEL!!! I'M GONNA KICK YOUR ASS WHEN I FIND YOU!!!" He yelled as loud he could in the slim hope that she was pranking him for earlier. "THIS ISN'T FUNNY ANGEL! YOU'RE GONNA MAKE US LATE!" He heard nothing but the little cracks and twitches of nature. He took another deep breath. "FINE THEN! I'M GOING HOME AND WAKING MOM AND DAD UP AND TELL THEM EVERYTHING THAT YOU DID, LIKE HOW YOU GOT ME INTO FIGHTS AND HOW YOU AIN'T LISTENING AND HOW YOU WANDERED OFF AWAY FROM ME!" He took a quick breath to yell even louder; he was crying now. "GOD DAMN IT I HATE YOU!...YOU LITTLE BITCH!!!!!" He hurt his throat yelling so hard. He knew he'd be blamed for losing her as he was nearly hyperventilating. Then something merciful occurred to him, and it made so much sense that he immediately calmed down.
(That little brat turned around and went home! He turned around and started walking back down the trail. Thank God!)
He could make it to class and not have to deal with her, and if he saw Taylor, he could just walk wide circles around his fat ass. Then he could go home and maybe his Mom and Dad will hear him out and Angel will get scolded for once in her spoiled rotten little life. The best part of it all was that he could go back to bed and sleep; nightmares be damned. He'd grab the biggest fattest spider and use it for a pillow! He'll sleep and... and... then... Then he heard it. Something, a voice, a whisper, dancing through the silence of the woods. What is that? Faint, far away, but he heard it. It almost sounded like a person singing a note, dangling in the air like it was tied to a string. It was resonating with him, within him. He thought of a fishing lure in the water, flickering beautifully for any big mouth that might bite at it. That memory coming from fishing trips with his father. Yes. Think of a little fish swimming around in the bottom of the ocean, the pitch blackness of the deep. As black as space, minus the stars as not even the sun can be seen in the deep waters. What would you do if you were down there alone and scared and then suddenly you spotted salvation? A light! A little bulb of light just floating there in the nothing; Beautiful, Warm and just for you; would you have the sense to question it, or would you just chase it? And he chased it.
The voice sounded light and female. Sweet and calming. He didn't understand, but somehow he's whole mind was calm, yet his thoughts were clouded. His judgement subdued, but he was okay with it. Where is it? Where is it coming from? He could almost figure out the direction, but it still felt like it was in the air dangling just above his head. The longer he listened, the more it sounded to him like a woman singing. No words; just harmony. For a moment, a small opening in the dark clouds in his head, allowed for pessimism to shine through.
(What's happening to me... This doesn't make sense... I need to go home...)
Above him, the voice began to fall, creeping down, leading off the trail and deeper into the woods. The song was all but a lustful taunt now, beckoning him to give chase.
(COME FIND ME...)
"Who's that!" He heard it. It was in his head, an alien voice spoke so loud that he actually heard it more clearly than if it was spoken aloud. The opening in the dark clouds were closing and becoming darker like heavy storms with only glimmers of light showing through.
(COME FIND ME...TYLER...)
And with that command, he obeyed.
*CRUNCH*
He pushed through the dying forest. A machete would be handy. Either way, he was hell bent on finding her, or whatever it was calling him. He forgot about school, about Angel, about getting in trouble with his parents, and about Taylor's fatass. He wasn't studying anything else except,
(HURRY! COME FIND ME!)
There she was again. There was no mistaking it: this was the voice of a woman. He imagined her features that went along with that sweet voice. Long dark flowing hair, a perfect glowing face with almond eyes and a bright smile. Breasts, hips and long legs, Yes; there was a woman in these woods. Maybe she needed help? Maybe she needed a young man to come save her! Tyler knew none of that made sense, but he still had to find her no matter what. He reached a thick bush that seemed there was no getting around it, and there was a deep ditch on the other side that he hadn't noticed. He pulled his hands into his jacket, got down and fought and crawled through whatever openings he could find through. And what if he did find some weird woman out here; what was going to happen? It was unlikely that he was going to lose his virginity to some sexy siren out in the middle of these woods. He figured he had made it at least a mile or two away from the trail, and considered the trip back. The bush and brier patches annoyed him, as cracks in the dark clouds were letting more light shine through; then the voice would repeat itself:
(HURRY! COME FIND ME! HURRY!)
And the dark clouds would regain control over him. This voice was engaging his adolescence with promises limited only to his imagination, and he had a healthy imagination for his age. She'd be waiting for him on the other side of this shit, he'll emerge all cut up and bleeding, he'll see her standing there, she'll turn and see him down on all fours exhausted and go to him, drop to her knees getting dirt on her angelic white dress, he'll look up at her and see the most beautiful face he'd ever laid eyes on, she'll smile at him and put her soft warm hands on his face, he'll lay his head in her lap and she'll gently pet his head. Then she'll bend down to tell him something as her bosom squishes against the side of his head; her lips will move and,
*CRUNCH*
The ground he reached to grab wasn't there; he fell forward and rolled down the sudden drop into the ditch on the other side, landing flat on his face, hissing at the scraps and cuts. "that hurt..." The lights were on and he escaped the clouds; whatever had him, lost its hold in the fall. He couldn't hear her anymore. He didn't feel tired anymore, just slightly dead inside. Face down in the dirt, he thought about how there was no chance at making it to school on time, how horrible this day was, how things would be if Angel hadn't started shit with Tayler. Better yet, what if she had never been born? The day started off bad enough, and now here he was laying down in the dirt, in the middle of nowhere miles away from home and not sure how he was going to get back. Hell, he wasn't sure how he made it this far. He turned his head and saw more woods, then he turned the other way, resting his cheek on the cool dirt: The sun was setting. Already? How long had he been,
*Cccccrrraaaaaang*
His head lurched up to the loud metallic shriek. He saw nothing, Almost. He would have missed it otherwise, but he remembered now: the dream; there was something from it that this place conjured up. Right in front of him was a hill where the noise came from. At a first glance, there's nothing remarkable about it, yet somehow, Tyler knew the secret. He pushed himself up to his feet. He'd seen it before; that's what it was. He couldn't think of it that morning; he had to see it play out in front of him before he could remember it: There was a faint outline in the hill and Tyler reached and grabbed the side to feel around for..."There!" He pulled with all his strength, then he let go of the big rusty metal door as it fell open, unveiling metal stairs leading down into darkness. He knew this was here! Maybe an old cellar or a storm shelter, but how did he know it was here? He looked down and thought of going in, but then thought better of it. He stepped back away from the entrance, then lights flickered over the stairs defeating the darkness that covered them, leading down to a metal door. Tyler realized that it was dark all around him; the sun had finished setting and the daylight was over. The woods around him now scarier than the hole with lights reflecting off the steel walls and stairs. He took his first step following them down careful to not make a sound. He wasn't trying to sneak, but was ready to turn and run back up the steps and into the woods in case he might jump an animal or a homeless man living down here. The metal door wasn't closed all the way, as if someone left it cracked. He pushed and it swung open, revealing a long hallway with more lights flickering on. He went forward, and wasn't so afraid; now he was just curious.
(Some kind of bunker maybe? Old and abandoned, but still has electricity?)
The hallway made a sharp right turn, then there was another metal door left open as well. The lights were already on inside. Tyler peaked through the crack and saw a room filled with lab equipment.
(Some mad scientist's hidden laboratory? How the hell could something like this be here?)
None of the equipment was like anything he had ever seen before; even the tech displayed in science fiction movies did this stuff justice: it was all shiny and well kept. Whatever science project that was going on down here was serious, and obviously, a secret. He passed a file laid open and couldn't resist taking a look.
"1973 The M.A.W. Project. by Dr. Les. Entry##113 submitted at 4:54 AM 'On behalf of the staff at NEW CELL research LAB #13, we require further funding: This project must be finished. It is necessary to do this at the site of where this strand of the NEW CELL anomaly, was located and is where we need to conduct our work. We do not know how to make CELL grow on its own yet, but this environment seems to encourage a reaction. It takes the form of a gas, reduced to a molecular level and singled it out. That's how NEW CELL's R-strand was discovered. It infects organic tissue with a compound never seen in history. It's proven to have high mutative properties, like other NEW CELL strands, but the R-strand has an amazing effect: psychokinetics is developing in the subjects! The R-strand will catapult Bio Engineering to places never thought possible!"
Tyler skips a few pages.
"It was necessary to have built 'Lab #13 at the sight where R-strand was discovered; It is imperative that our research continue, and is the opinion of this department and myself. The location isn't ideal, but this is also closest to civilian life that NEW CELL has been found to inhabit. It is costly -and risky- but necessary in order to collect this priceless data. You of course have seen the product of the remarkable capabilities of the R-strand with the M.A.W. Project; It's still to soon to move on from this location! So much we still have to learn! This is about the future of our species!"
Tyler flips to the last pages in the file:
Request to terminate the M.A.W. project.
"We have accomplished huge strides with the research of the R-strand. We've concluded that this location is not in fact the place of its origin. We can't prove it yet, but we believe now that the R-strand isn't native, or that the location is consequential to the mutations. The cells of R-strand cover this area, slowly growing like any organic matter. We are close to making a significant breakthrough on R-strand, and likely a huge leap in the NEW CELL anomaly.
Concerning The MAW Project, she has proven R-strand's remarkable capabilities, but we feel the project has hit a dead end, and is no longer a viable source for further study. I will note that with careful planning: further development of NEW CELL Projects can heed viable results, and we shouldn't shut the Lab down just yet. However, MAW'S devolvement has hit a brick wall. Her higher brain functions mimic that of the human host used, and this could be what is making her feral. However, I don't believe that to be the case. There's something else I've been looking into: It is possible that R-strand itself is where this intelligent/malevolent behavior is coming from. We had removed her brain and three of her limbs for our own protection, yet these problems persist. If my theory is true, then that means that the NEW CELL anomaly is the most intelligent viral life form ever exhibited. It goes beyond what human evolution has ever been capable of.
Concerning MAW: it is understood that the resources expended on her were substantial, but we've got all that we need and then some from the project. Immediate termination of MAW is requested. Let me also clarify the problems arising for the Lab in keeping her contained here: we believe she's been telepathically commuting with sentient life outside of the perimeter. First we notice an excess of animals wandering closer to the lab, then our security was finding civilian life wandering in the area, and furthermore, somehow getting inside; they never remember how they got here. One poor soul actually made it inside MAW's containment: what we found wasn't a pretty sight. We have other issues of MAW affecting Lab #13 personal. Mostly complaints of strange dreams and emotional problems. Working within such close range of MAW is subject to high stress, and the project wasn't recommended to personal with pre existing mental conditions, as it became common that She could exacerbate the conditions. I myself am having trouble, as I haven't been able to sleep well in months. I and my staff humbly request that a N.C.H. team is sent to sterilize this area, and to terminate the MAW Project."
Tyler saw there was a tape recorder next to the file. He pressed rewind, and then the Play.
'Those bastards. They actually went ahead and did it. The data we collected over the course of L thirteen's establishment was more than viable enough and worth saving, but no, those bastards never cared. They really went ahead and did it! They're gonna leave us and L thirteen to rot! We got them everything they wanted from the NEW CELL growing in this area, and then they cut their losses and abandon us! R-strand is growing; its infecting this whole area. Yes we were here to research it, but also to contain it! The civilian life that's anywhere within a thousand kilometers will be totally lost...
They sealed us in here. The team we requested sealed us down here to die! I Wonder how far they'll get before they too are...
It's MAW again...
I hear her now, she's tempting me. I'm out of time..."
The rest of the tape was nearly silent save for steps on the tile floor, echoing as they got further away, until they couldn't be heard, and then silenced altogether. There was nothing now but the light hiss of the tape spinning, and there would be nothing else on the rest of the tape either.
*thunk*
Tyler heard something. He turned to see another door. He carefully pushed it open, and there was more stairs. No lights flickered on this time. It looked like the stairway to hell itself. Briefly, there was no way he was going down. So turned back. He was done with this. He was frightened and wanted nothing more than to leave this place and forget about it, the tape, everything. It was cold and lifeless in here. He had to get home. Then, he heard her voice; not the woman, not the sirens song he heard all afternoon, but his sister's voice.
"Tyler..."
He heard it. And it wasn't in his head. "Hello?" "Tyler..." "Angel? is that you!" he yelled. It was coming from down the rusty stairs, coming from the bottom. No response. He took a deep breath, and then he took the first step down, then another, then on the third, he heard Angel's blood curdling scream eco from the bottom. "Angel! Hold on!" He yelled going down the steps as fast as he could, nearly slipping on what he thought was rags or towels, following Angel's scream all the way to the bottom; down to the precipice. The scream ceased just he saw a metal door hanging from bent hinges; It was decimated, ripped through like tissue paper. His gut told him to turn and leave now, then something caught his eye: Something familiar was hanging on one of the sharp pieces of the metal door, slivers of cloth. He approached and grabbed it: on the front was torn ribbond of tHanna Montana's face still smiling that plastic smile. Tyler felt terror crawl up through his guts. Suddenly the lights came on above. The floor was covered in discarded clothing. Most of it was adult sized: white lab coats, leather shoes, male and female undergarments, socks, and more laying everywhere. Watches, cellphones, pens, wigs, jewelry, etc. He looked up the stairs, and saw even more just littered all the way up. He realized something horrible: Nothing can get close to this place without coming under the influence of this MAW...How many people had wandered down here just like himself? Facing the stairs, he stepped on something sizeable. He bent down, and found that it was a backpack. Hanna Montana's face plastered on it too. It was Angel's. He went down to his hands and knees and found a small pile of clothes, jeans, pink socks, a bright pink jacket and white panties. He became nauseous, his stomach twisting itself up as he understood that Angel, along with all these other people had all been...
*CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH*
The sickening sound found his ears, and then, he heard that woman's voice speak aloud,
"Tyler, You found me."
(The little fish that swims in the darkness will see the dangling light and approach it; never seeing the terrifying mouth of the anglerfish waiting just behind the light.)
A moist and warm gust of air covered him, and behind it was the mouth that exhaled it. Tyler on all fours, turned his head around to see it, and what he saw was a giant gaping mouth, filled with large jagged teeth, smelling of death and wide enough to bite him in half. For a moment, he didn't want to run away. For a moment, the mouth seemed to not be so threatening. For a moment, he was almost at peace with it, then that turned into a euphoria, rapturous, pleasurable even. The dark clouds were thundering, blocking all light, all sense. He was okay with this. Even wanted it...for a moment. Then, as the mouth neared and began closing down, he saw something hanging from one of the long yellow stained teeth: something little, long and black. Like a worm? No... He then realized what it was, and all the clouds blow away as sheer horror swept through like a 200 mph wind: It was in fact, a lock of hair from Angel's head. The mouth spoke once more as the fresh stince of blood and guts seeped from the beastly dripping mouth:
"You found me."
He screamed louder then he ever had in his life. His fight or flight chose the latter. His prone position was almost that of a runner's stance, as the mouth started to close down for a bite. Tyler lunged up the metal staircase, the piles of clothes, phones and jewelry impeding him every step of the way, all the while that hot sick breath was rushing up his shirt. He made it halfway up the stairs and looked back at it to see if he was getting away from it. When he did, an even louder scream erupted from him with tears and mucus pouring from his face. He saw a massive hand reaching up for him, big enough to grab him around his waist and crush him into pulp, and pull him back down to face the same nightmarish death that his kid sister met. He caught a good look at the thing: a huge humanoid, that looked like it would have been a giant, but there was nothing below its lower torso. The hand swiped at him just barely missing the temporarily despondent boy, its large nails making deep scratches on the metal, sending an ear splitting shriek through the air. Tyler cuffed his ears in pain. He saw it trying to orient itself to take another swipe. It seemed to look up and let out a guttural roar at him, spitting its saliva and little tiny pieces of Angel all over him. Then he saw that the thing was missing its eyes: above the mouth, everything; a nose, its cranium, eyeholes, were gone. Atop of the mouth was just the healed over stump from where those things used to have been, maybe. That huge hand was connected to a long muscular arm, the only limb it seemed to have left. Then all at once, Tyler understood it:
(It can't do much else but eat. So it got good at luring its meals down to it... Like one of those parasites that wiggle into the head of a grasshopper and make it commit suicide and that's how the worm survived...That's how this thing survived. He could hear it; feel it. The same voice the owners of these piles of clothes heard. The same voice that Angel heard. That same sweet voice that lured him down, all the way from home, was now trying to wiggle its way back into his head. She was telling him that everything was alright; come back down, take your clothes off -and anything else that if wouldn't like to chew on- and everything will be alright. Come down. Come down. Come down. Come down. Come down. Come down come down come down come down Come down. Come down. Come down. Come down. Come down. Come down come down come down come down Come down. Come down. Come down. Come down. Come down. Come down come down come down come down Come down. Come down. Come down. Come down. Come down. Come down come down come down come down Come down. Come down. Come down. Come down. Come down. Come down. Come down. Come down come down come down come down Come down. Come down. Come down. Come down. Come down. Come down. Come down come down come down come down Come down. Come down. Come down.)
"COME DOWN TO ME NOW!!!!!"
Tyler snapped out of it for the last time as She lurched forward, mouth open wide. Tyler turned to the metal stairs, crawled up the rest of them and finally reached the door. He bolted through the lab, hearing both her voice in his head, beckoning him, while the monster was bellowing from below; cursing at the escape of its meal. Tyler passed the file, and grabbed it thinking he might need it later with all the rational thinking he had left, besides running. He reached the long hallway, the echo of his shoes coming down on the metal engulfing everything including her cries for him. He leaped out of the big metal door, and he got on the other side of it and pushed with all his strength, making slam back shut. Then he was out into the dark woods, at this point the safest place in the world to him. He didn't stop. He ran back the way he came. He made his way around the hill he fell down, found the path through the brush that he made earlier and finally after scurrying through all of it again, he found the path to the school; the same path he could take home. The running wasn't over; not yet; Not until he saw his parents.
His mother and father sat on the front porch along with several police officers who were gathering up for a search party. The mother with her head in her hands and the father was speaking to the police officer taking down descriptions in his book. The red and blue lights of the police cars lit the whole street up, and that's how Tyler found his way back. He saw the lights and new that that had to be his block. He held the file in his hand that would prove that everything he saw was true. He finally took a moment to catch his breath...
Then, she spoke to him again, and he listened...and he listened.
His mother looked up with tears in her eyes and almost didn't see him: her son was standing there covered in dirt, grime and little bleeding cuts all over him. He was empty handed. She cried and ran to her son and embraced him as his father and the police officers followed. She hugged him tight. She loved him and he felt it. His father kneeled down with tears in his eyes, checking Tyler's wounds. "Tyler, what happened?" "Tyler, are you okay?" "Tyler, talk to me baby!" "Tyler...where's Angel?" He was in awe. He looked up to the night sky without saying anything. He saw that the stars were out. They cared. They cared. He felt like he was the center of their world. And it made him feel good. This felt good. She was right.
****
Tyler woke up at 6:00 AM to the sound of his alarm blaring ZZ Top. He was sleeping so well that he hated the alarm. He stretched and pulled himself out of bed. He looked out of his window and saw the sun creeping up from behind the line of trees of the woods behind that old house. He grabbed the window seal and stretched himself. He left his room, past the hallway bathroom, and then went into the room that -use to- belong to Angel. The posters still hung, but the room was a mess where the police had searched it for any possible leads. He ignored the mess like his parents did, albeit for different reasons. He enjoyed a shower. Angel's shower that was. In the kitchen he ate uncooked poptarts with milk. He was feeling great, well rested and had a sense of wellbeing he hadn't felt in a long time. He thought about trying out for basketball, or maybe football. The school bus pulled up outside and he slammed his milk and ran out the door. On the bus he sat in the middle, right next to a girl he had never talked to before, and they struck up a conversation. As they got off the bus she waved at him and saying whe would love to have lunch with him. He smiled and turned to go to class. He ended up trying out for football and fell in love with the sport that day. He liked his coach, and he made friends with almost everyone on the team. Everyone except for one big freckled face Taylor Barns. When Tyler caught up with him after school, Taylor didn't know what to say to this knew and very chipper Tyler. They had gotten into a fight over his sister, and then she was pronounced dead, all back in the fall. When the bus passed his house, it seemed to be a ghost house with nobody home. Now here he was trying to make friends? How could he say no. He thought that he should try and be nice. Felt like he owed him that much. He didn't have much of a choice though... No choice, really. See, Taylor had recently been experiencing some sleep deprivation, all from some recurring nightmares within the last week, give or take. Perhaps brought on by some remorse; an underserved guilt over the disappearance of Tyler's kid sister. He didn't know why it was happening; he definitely didn't know that Tyler knew about it, either. Taylor agreed to hang out with him after practice, and they would walk to Tyler's house, play video games, and talk about football. Tyler told him that he knew a shortcut through the woods. Taylor Barns smiled, and Tyler smiled right back...
and so did she.
*CRUNCH*
Written by Jacob Pittman.

Best hiding spots to hide your vapes/carts
lunchable method*this works better for disposable*
You’ll need

• A sub sandwich lunchable with the box
• Super glue

How to do

• You'll need to go to the store and get a lunchable and super glue
• You wanna go home or whenever you are ready to do this you wanna
• Open your lunchable
• And then you wanna find the bread
• You wanna open it but no to much
• Then you wanna take out the bready and wrap your dispo in wrapping paper or anything that will keep it covered
• Once you do that you wanna place the dispo in between the bread but make sure you dont break the bread
• Then you wanna put the bread back in the wrapper and seal it with super glue or seal it with a flat iron then you wanna put everything back in the lunchable box and seal it with super glue
• Once you do that you wanna put it in your lunch box and have fun

*you can also make your own sandwich and do it the same but more riskier*
Shoe method
Things you’ll need

• A thick shoe
• Removable soles
• Something metal

Steps

• You wanna get your shoe your gonna be hiding your vape/ cart in ill advise you to use a shoe with thick bottoms like Air Force Ones
• Once you get that you wanna remove the sole and get your cart
• Once you have that you wanna put it in the center where the slope kinda goes down but up at the same time and put it at a slant
• Then you wanna put the sole back in and your all done
• For a better chance of not getting caught you wanna wear ankle jewelry or any jewelry

Hoodie method*i dont recommended this one but if you absolutely have no other option then this is the best on for you*
Things you’ll need

• 2 hoodies

Steps
-this is very simple you wanna put a hoodie on then you wanna get another hoodie and put it over top of the first one
If you have any jewelry that can go off threw a medal detector wer it it will help you
bag/lunch box method
There's multiple ways you can do this

• Cut a slip on your backpack strap and slide it in there
• Cut a slip in your lunch box and hide it in there

Deodorant method*best with dispos*
You’ll need

• Deortrant
• Plastic bags
• Butter knife or spoon
• Tissue or paper towels

Steps:

• First you wanna
• Get some deodorant and take it out
• The you should be left with a empty deodorant tube
• Once you to that you wanna put you dispo in a bag and put it in the deodorant tube
• Then with the tissue or paper towels you have put it along where theres gaps and space around the cart
• Then you wanna put the deodorant back on or spread some of it on the top of it and try to hide the dispo with the deodorant

Book method*best with vapes cart and dispos*
Things you need

• Book or note book
• Exacto knife

Steps

• You wanna get your book and open it half way
• Then you wanna trace your cart vape or dispo but leave about a inch or a half of a inch of space from the actual tracing of the cart then you wanna cut it out so basically you should have a long rectangle going up and down
• Then you wanna cut about 20-40 pages deep in the book make sure you dont cut all the way down so you should still have pages to cover it and still have ages hold it
• Then you wanna close it up and for extra security you wanna do this on a boox that has them little holders so it keep the book closed while not using it

Water Bottle method*best with light carts and vapes*
Things yall need

• A water bottle *thats not see threw*
• Plastic bags

Steps:

• You wanna fill a waterbottle half way or less that that of water
• Then you wanna get your dispo and put it in multiple bags and put it in the water bottle and close it

Chip bag method *best with small vapes and dispos*
Things you need:

• Iron or a falt iron
• Chip bag

steps:
You wanna open s bag of chips without cutting it or opening it weird but if you wanna make sure you dont get caught get a knife and make a little cut big enough where the cart can fit in the back of the bag and reseal it with a flar iron or a iron

The 30-06 Springfield is an American cartridge through and through. It’s a two-time World War champion, can take down any big game animal North America can throw at it, and you’ve selected it for deer hunting.
All we can say is, “Good call!”
The 30-06 has been putting venison on plates and in freezers for well over a century, and as such there’s a lot of different hunting rounds available. But with so much variety, it can be hard to pick the best one for your deer hunting needs.
If you’re in a hurry, then we’d recommend that you pick up a box of Barnes 150 Grain TTSX. It’s the best 30-06 ammo for deer hunting. However, if you have some time and want to see our entire top 5 list, just keep reading.
If you’re new to deer hunting or looking for more information about the 30-06 Springfield, check out our Buyer’s Guide HERE. Otherwise, scroll just a bit down to review more of our list…

The Best 30-06 Ammo for Deer Hunting

1. Barnes VOR-TX 150 Grain TTSX
2. Remington CoreLokt 150 Grain Scirocco Bonded
3. Hornady American Whitetail 150 Grain SP
4. Winchester Power Point 165 Grain PSP
5. Federal Fusion 180 gr FSP

Best Overall 30-06 Ammo for Deer Hunting

Barnes VOR-TX 150 Grain TTSX

Specs

• Casing - Brass
• Bullet Type – Tipped Tripple-Shock X (TTSX)
• Bullet Weight - 150 Grains
• Muzzle Velocity – 2,970 fps
• Muzzle Energy – 2,937 ft-lbs.

Pros

• Designed for rapid and controlled expansion
• Near 100% weight retention
• All-copper bullet legal in California

Cons

• Pricier than other options

Why We Chose It

The best deer hunting rounds for the 30-06 are affordable, in stock, and have additional features that control expansion and adequately maximize penetration. The 150-grain Barnes TTSX meets all our standards, and it’s something we can recommend to everyone.
Barnes takes extraordinary measures to produce insanely high-quality ammo, and the TTSX line is no exception. The polymer tip makes the TTSX more aerodynamic, raising the ballistic coefficient and helping the bullet penetrate before expanding.
The bullet’s terminal performance is nothing short of superb. The 150-grain bullet penetrates deep and expands to nearly double its original diameter (assuming impact occurs between 1,800 and 3,000 fps). The brilliant design and all-copper composite make an extremely effective wound cavity. All you need to worry about is shot placement!
In addition to being a slam dunk for deer season, we love this round for its versatility. Not only can the Barnes 150 gr TTSX easily take down a deer at 500 yards with proper shot placement, but it can also be used for larger game animals like black bears, elk, and moose.
If you want an efficient round that’s pretty easy to find, pick up a box of the Barnes 150 gr TTSX. The high ballistic coefficient, superior Barnes quality, and flat trajectory make it well worth a few dollars per round.

Honorable Mention

Nosler Trophy Grade 150 Grain Nosler Partition - Another excellent round you should grab for deer hunting is Nosler Partition ammo for the 30-06. The Nosler Partition bullet has two components separated by a partition, the front for penetration/expansion and the back for weight retention. Of course, if you need a round for hunting large animals, consider the Nosler 150 grain Accubond. However, we found Nosler Partition ammo easier to find in stock.

Best 30-06 Ammo for Deer Hunting - Runner Up

Remington CoreLokt 150 Grain Scirocco Bonded

Specs

• Casing - Brass
• Bullet Type - Swift Scirocco Bonded
• Bullet Weight - 150 Grains
• Muzzle Velocity – 2,910 fps
• Muzzle Energy – 2,821 ft-lbs

Pros

• High availability
• Extremely accurate in our hands
• Perfect for deer and elk hunting

Cons

• Expensive

Why We Chose It

Remington 150 Grain Scirocco Bonded ammo is an excellent round for hunters during deer season. It’s a hard-hitting bullet with a flatter trajectory than some other rounds and leaves an impressive wound channel.
Like the Barnes TTSX, Swift Scirocco Bonded bullets have nearly 100% weight retention to maximize penetration. The polymer tip is responsible for initiating expansion, but the electro-chemical bonding process is what keeps the lead core and copper jacket together to ensure deadly terminal performance.
You’ll get adequate expansion at velocities as low as 1,650 fps (around 500 yards). This gives you a little more distance than some of our other recommendations. It’s also slightly cheaper than the Barnes TTSX but still pricier than some other options on our top 5 list.
Not only does the Remington 150 gr Swift Scirocco Bonded bullet do amazing work on deer, but we also love it because you can ethically hunt elk, black bears, and moose too.

Best Budget 30-06 Ammo for Deer Hunting

Hornady American Whitetail 150 Grain SP

Specs

• Casing - Brass
• Bullet Type – Jacketed Soft Point (JSP)
• Bullet Weight - 150 Grains
• Muzzle Velocity – 2,910 fps
• Muzzle Energy – 2,820 ft-lbs

Pros

• Low price tag makes it easy to buy in bulk
• Backed by Hornady’s high-quality reputation
• JSP (Jacketed Soft Point) for great terminal performance and expansion

Cons

• Shorter effective range on deer

Why We Chose It

Hornady American Whitetail is a phenomenal choice if you’re looking for excellent factory ammo on a budget and you don’t have time to work on handloads. Easy on the wallet and effective on the hunt, this 150-grain cartridge offers phenomenal terminal performance and exceptional accuracy.
Hornady Whitetail is an extremely popular choice for avid hunters because it’s a high-quality round that deals a lot of damage to the deer and not your pocketbook. With Hornady’s patented InterLock® design, the lead core and jacket stay together on impact giving you high levels of penetration and expansion.
Hornady Whitetail utilizes a soft point bullet with a muzzle velocity of 2,910 fps that can accurately bag a deer within 400 yards (just over 1,800 fps) and still achieve the expansion necessary to bring down a trophy buck.
Although Hornady American Whitetail is soft on the wallet, the jacketed soft point bullet design is less effective at long range shots when compared to other offerings on our top 5 list. However, if you hunt in wooded areas like New England, the Midwest, and forests of the Pacific Northwest, then Hornady American Whitetail 150 gr SP ammo will offer more than enough range for deer season this fall.

Honorable Mention

Prvi Partisan 150 Grain SP: This is another excellent budget round that simply gets the job done. If you’re looking for an affordable deer hunting cartridge, Prvi Partisan is an excellent backup choice. It’s readily available and the soft pointed lead core will easily penetrate medium-sized game animals.

Best 30-06 Ammo for Deer - Fan Favorite

Winchester Power Point 165 Grain PSP

Specs

• Casing - Brass
• Bullet Type - Pointed Soft Point
• Bullet Weight - 165 Grains
• Muzzle Velocity – 2,800 fps
• Muzzle Energy – 2,872 ft-lbs

Pros

• Affordable and easy to find
• Accuracy
• Excellent expansion

Cons

• Not great for large game like elk

Why We Chose It

We love a good, tried and true 30-06 cartridge, and Winchester Power Point 165 grain fits that bill perfectly. This low-cost cartridge has a flat trajectory and packs more than enough wallop to take down any deer in your sights.
Winchester designed its Power Point bullets for accuracy and penetration. The soft lead core is encased in a copper jacket, so you’ll have the controlled expansion necessary to create a sufficient wound cavity and ethically take home your deer.
The Winchester Power Point was deadly accurate in our hands and expands perfectly between 3,000 and 1,800 feet per second. Assuming you keep your shots within 300 yards, you’ll bag a deer for less than $2/round without having to trek through the woods following blood trails.
However, while many hunters have taken down large creatures with the 165-grain Winchester Power Point, it’s a bit risky to use it for hunting bigger game (larger than 300 pounds). Shot placement and distance will play a significant role in your success.
If you want to ethically hunt deer, this round will work. But if you want to hunt larger game, try one of the other rounds on our list.

Honorable Mention

Federal Power-Shok 150 Grain - Another excellent round that works well on the medium-sized game, like whitetail deer and mule deer. It’s a traditional lead core soft-point bullet with no bells and whistles. If you’re looking for a low-cost conventional 30-06 ammo for deer hunting that simply gets the job done, then look no further than Federal Power-Shok.

Best 30-06 Ammo for Deer Hunting

Federal Fusion 180 gr FSP

Specs

• Casing - Brass
• Bullet Type – Fusion Soft Point
• Bullet Weight - 180 Grain
• Muzzle Velocity – 2700 fps
• Muzzle Energy – 2,913 ft-lbs

Pros

• Developed specifically for deer hunting
• Incredibly accurate
• Accurate
• Inexpensive and abundant

Cons

• Not great for hunting larger game animals

Why We Chose It

If you’re looking for the first round developed specifically for deer hunters, then look no further than the Federal Fusion 180 gr FSP.
Utilizing a skived nose, the Federal Premium Fusion Soft Point is built for immediate and deadly expansion the moment it encounters soft tissue. This is perfect for thin-skinned game like whitetail and mule deer, where you want maximum penetration, weight retention, and a wide wound channel.
The copper jacket used on FSP rounds is electrochemically bound to the soft lead core. This makes for a perfectly uniform jacket that is incredibly accurate for a soft point round.
The massive 180 grain bullet really does a number on medium sized game, transferring the maximum amount of kinetic energy possible into that trophy whitetail that wandered in front of your tree stand.
Although the Federal Fusion is perfect for deer, it’s not the best choice for larger game like elk. However, if you want the original purpose-built deer round, then Federal Fusion 180 gr is a perfect choice to take out into the woods this fall.

Oh Deer! That’s a Wrap

Congratulations! You made it all the way to the end. No matter which of these factory loads you choose, you’ll be well armed to put Bambi in your freezer this deer season.
But since you made it this far, do you want to keep learning more about the 30-06 Springfield? We’ve shared a vast majority of our wisdom in the sections above but keep scrolling to take a gander at our 30-06 buyer’s guide.
Or if you’re ready to order a box from our list, click HERE to go back to the top.

Buyer’s Guide: What to Look for in 30-06 Hunting Ammo

The 30-06 Springfield is considered by many as the quintessential hunting round. It has served the US military through two World Wars and has been taking down deer, elk, and moose across North America for over 100 years.
It is the round that all other hunting cartridges are compared to. Often you’ll hear hunters make the comparison of, “Well is it any better than a 30-06?” Which tells you that the old warhorse has quite a long track record of putting game down humanely and efficiently.
As such, the 30-06 has seen a lot of work done on it to make it one of the best all-around hunting rounds on the market. With multiple bullet designs and grain weights, picking the best hunting load for your needs can be difficult for newer shooters or hunters.
But don’t worry! We are here to help you cut through all the hype and buzzwords to explain what you should be looking for in an excellent deer hunting round.
As experts in the field, we analyze a lot of hunting loads, from weight to bullet types and more. So, take some time and read through the following sections to learn more about choosing hunting ammo.

Deer Hunting & Weight Grains

Although the weight of the bullet affects numerous factors, including wind resistance, terminal performance, ballistics, and expansion, shot placement and knowing your rifle always prevail over the “best bullet weight.”
But, for those curious, how do you know what weight is best for hunting deer? Well, the answer to that question is highly subjective, and for good reason! You’ll have to consider distance, how your rifle handles the round, and what you’re shooting (deer, in this case).
The lighter the bullet, the more muzzle velocity, and therefore, the faster it will travel. This creates for a flatter shooting bullet that is more forgiving or ranging mistakes.
On the other hand, heavier bullets tend to travel slower but are more resistant to wind drift and pack more kinetic energy.
If you’re trying to shoot an elk at over 500 yards, you’re going to want something that hits a bit harder to make sure you have enough kinetic energy to ensure a clean kill. But if you’ve got a whitetail in your crosshairs at 400 yards or less, you don’t necessarily need a massive bullet to get the job done.
For whitetail deer, hogs, or pronghorn, the 150 gr and 165 gr bullets offer a happy compromise between stopping power, lower recoil, and a flatter trajectory.
However, do keep in mind that your next deer won’t ask you, “What grain weight is that TTSX bullet you just shot me with?” Because if you’re using premium expanding hunting ammo and can put the bullet inside the vitals, the deer won’t be asking you anything at all!

Types of Hunting Bullets

You’ve surely seen a lot of acronyms online and on ammo boxes. But what do they all mean?
Hunting is a lot different than competitive or long-range target shooting. The goal isn’t just to hit your target, but to put down your quarry quickly and humanely. The hunting ammunition you choose needs to keep working after the initial impact.
So, it’s important to put a little more thought into your hunting rifle cartridges. To put it simply, match-grade ammo won’t cut it.
For example, you don’t want to use FMJ (full metal jacket) ammo for hunting. It’s typically a lead core bullet that won’t expand.
To further complicate things, match-grade ammo is typically loaded with Boat-Tail Hollow Point (BTHP) bullets. Although hollow point bullets are typically used for self-defense handgun ammo, these rifle bullets are designed for extreme accuracy and NOT terminal expansion.
To help you sort things out, we made a list of some of the most common hunting bullet types deer hunters utilize and why they are effective.

SP (Soft Point)

You’ll see a few variations of SP rounds. From Soft Point to Pointed Soft Point and the beloved Jacketed Soft Points, all are perfectly suitable for hunting deer. But let’s break down the differences.
Of course, you’ll find soft point bullets are just that; they have a softer lead core than other bullet types. Unlike FMJs (full metal jackets) which have a dense lead core, soft points consist of a softer core with an exposed nose cavity allowing the bullet to expand easily. However, if a bullet expands too quickly, it will not penetrate, which leads us to jacketed soft points.
Like JHPs (jacketed hollow points), a JSP (jacketed soft point) is a jacketed round. Except, a small part of the lead core is still exposed. This design allows for both penetration and controlled expansion while also maintaining a high ballistic coefficient.
You will also see PSP, which stands for Pointed Soft Point. These bullets have the same overall design as soft points, except the pointed tips make them more aerodynamic and more accurate for longer range shots.

Polymer Tipped Bullets

These days, polymer tipped bullets are all the range for hunting ammo. The polymer tip not only provides a more aerodynamic bullet, but it also aids in expansion.
Bullets like the Barnes TTSX, Hornady SST, and Nosler Ballistic Tip utilize the tip to initiate bullet expansion. This creates a more uniform wound channel and puts down game more quickly and humanely.

Bonded Tip Bullets

A bonded tip bullet is one where the jacket is chemically fused to the lead core rather than pressed. The reason for this is better penetration. As per the Scirocco recommendation above, a bonded tip will hold together much better and control expansion. There are a variety of bonded tip bullets, they typically have a higher price tag, but they’re well worth the extra coin if you’re hunting or buying self-defense ammo.

Get to Know the 30-06

Before we leave you with nothing but a vast technical knowledge of the 30-06 (which we know you appreciate), let’s talk 30-06 fun facts.
To start, the 30-06 is a 30-caliber round. So, where does the -06 (aught six) come in? Well, the round was first produced in 1906. That’s right. The 30-06 simply means it was the 30 caliber round of 1906.
Before retiring into an American hunting cartridge, this round was used with the M1 Garand during WWII and in Korea. As a matter of fact, it was the military’s favorite rifle bullet for nearly fifty years. It was a favorite of Teddy Roosevelt, who took a keen interest in hunting (he left North America in 1909 and hit up Africa for a big game hunt).

Frequently Asked Questions

What is the effective deer hunting range for the 30-06?

Most 30-06 ammo will be incredibly accurate within 400 yards. However, you also want to consider the muzzle velocity for an effective shot. If the round exceeds 3,000 fps, it may not expand. If it drops below 1,800 fps (excluding the Scirocco Bonded rounds), it also won’t expand.
Of course, do keep in mind that the effective range can vary based on your rifle barrel length. A longer barrel will result in a higher muzzle velocity thanks to a more complete powder burn than a shorter barreled rifle.
Therefore, if you’re using the Browning Gold Medallion lever-action rifle one day and a Ruger American bolt-action the next, you may get extremely different results.

Is the 30-06 a good cartridge for deer hunting?

Absolutely! The 30-06 Springfield has been bagging deer for well over a century and shows no signs of slowing down.
However, we can’t say that a deer will be able to tell the difference between a 30-06 Springfield, 270 Winchester, or the 6.5 Creedmoor, provided you select an appropriate bullet that expands and penetrates well. Smaller rounds like the 223 Rem can be used but many states prohibit them for deer hunting.
As stated previously, there are some 30-06 rounds that may leave you following a blood trail in the woods for hours. But as long as you choose one of the options we listed (or something similar), you’ll have an excellent hunting round.

What is a premium hunting bullet?

Premium hunting bullets are those that are manufactured specifically for controlled expansion and penetration. The term first reflected Nosler’s partitioned ammo because, before that, bullets didn’t exactly focus on terminal ballistics.
Today, several ammo manufacturers push the limits of imagination and engineer all sorts of ways to make bullets better for hunting. Premium bullets often have higher ballistic coefficients and are incredibly accurate. You’ll still find them with a common boat tail and spitzer design, but it’s what’s inside that counts!
Others love that they can purchase a few rounds and start reloading. No matter your preference, a premium bullet typically performs better.

Do manufacturers still make bolt-action rifles chambered in the 30-06 Springfield?

Yes! The caliber may be old, but you’ll find Ruger, Mossberg, Remington, Savage, and many others still make bolt-action rifles chambered in 30-06.

Is there a nickel-plated brass 30-06 hunting round?

Yes. Notably, the Sierra Gameking uses a nickel-plated brass case.

Back to the Best 30-06 Ammo

Now that you have a clearer understanding of how to choose the best ammo for deer hunting with a 30-06, you can head back to our top 5 list by clicking HERE!
Top 5 Best 30-06 Ammo for Deer Hunting: Put Bambi in Your Freezer originally appeared on Ammo.com