Arm and hammer detergent ingredients

So my fiancé refuses to let me spend money on a hold on suitcase and so I have become really good at fitting EVERYTHING I want and need into a cabin bag, which includes all my make up and toiletries included in the limited liquid allowance.
Here is what I have invested in....
Toiletries
Instead of buying liquid shampoo and shower gel, I buy dove soap and a shampoo bar, I also buy solid deodrant
a travel sized tooth paste which is big enough for both myself and my fiancé. And it also comes with a travel tooth brush
I have invested in travel pots which hold my mouth wash, face wash, sunscreen, conditioner and leave in conditioner - I have curly hair so I just let my hair air dry over there so no need for a hairdryer or straighteners etc.
I travel with hyaloronic acid, retinol, vitamin c and niacinamide in single dose pods, they fit flush in my liquids bag but I'm pretty sure they won't need to go in because they are in sealed little pods.
Make-up
I have baught stackable mini travel pots which holds my foundation, SPF 50 face cream, night cream and face primer...it lasts me up to two weeks! They deceivingly hold a lot!
I have invested in the milani all inclusive face pallete which has a contour bronzer, blush,eyeshaddows and highlighter, The better than sex Mini travel mascara and I'll also take with me a lip stick and eyebrow pencil.
I also baught the real techniques mini travel brushes which comes with a small travel bag and it fits in my bag so easily! And a mini perfume atomiser which I can fill up with my own purfume.
I am in the fortunate situation where I can use my fiancé liquid allowance as he will use the hotel toiletries. But If I wasn't I'd just buy tooth paste, mouth wash and sunscreen over there... personally I can't skip the conditioner, they usually don't cater to my hair type abroad.
Clothes
All together I have taken 8 items of clothing Which can all be dressed up or dressed down.
This concists of 2 co-ord which is 2 crop tops, a skirt and a pair of shorts
A pair of trouser which pairs perfectly with both the tops from the co-ords
and a black and white tee-shirt which goes with all the bottoms,
in addition I have also packed an extra dress which can be worn both in the day or the night.
All in all this makes 11 outfits.
I will also travel in gym clothes, so I can use the gym over there and I will wear that with a pair of trainers.
For PJ's I have taken 2 light weight nighties from Primark and a satin dressing gown.
2 white bras 2 black bras and 7 pairs of knickers, I have also packed a nice bit of lingerie.
2 swimming costumes - one to wash, one to wear. And one swimsuit cover. I also baught a waterproof phone case which means I won't have to leave my phone or money off my person when going into the water and I even managed to fit a thin beach towel in...just incase!
I also packed laundry detergent sheets for hand washing items of clothing whilst I'm away, they don't take any room up in your bag or liquid space.
Shoes
I will be taking over a pair of flatform sandels from river island which go with all my outfits, they are pretty and won't be hard to walk in on uneven floors so they will look great for a night time shoe.
I am also taking over some hiking sandels so I can go on some beautiful long walks in comfort
And some flip flops to quickly chuck on for getting around the hotel and for walking around the beach.
That is my bag packed into one cabin bag and everything that I will need fits perfectly!
My other hack is I laminate my eyebrows and eyelashes and dye them so I look made up with out wearing any make up, this is great when your just going to be lounging buy the pool and don't plan to wear make up.
I also get my an acrylic manicure and pedicure 😉
On the flight I always take a face pack and a foot pack with me, my ipad which I download movies from netflix too, a pair of head phones and a book, this way i don't get bored and when I arrive my feet and skin is prepped to look and feel great!
I hope these hacks can change the way you travel and save you some money for spending abroad!

With his mother dead and his cultist family members out to ruin his life, getting abducted by alien slavers is actually an improvement for Corey Vash. A quick and chaotic escape attempt only succeeds thanks to an unintentional rescue from the impressively skilled and infrequently sober bounty hunters aboard the Hard Luck Hermit. With no clue about how to survive in space and nothing to return to on Earth, Corey joins the crew in their efforts to make a quick buck, try new drinks, and figure out who the hell keeps trying to kill them.
[First Chapter][Previous Chapter][Cover Art][Patreon]
“Not too late to just jump, cappy,” Tooley grumbled.
“Just keep us outside of weapons range and keep your finger on the jump button,” Kamak commanded. Tooley placed her entire palm flat on the button that would send them hurtling into faster-than-light travel. “Not that close. You blink too hard you’re going to press it.”
Tooley grumbled something to herself and pulled her hand a little further away. The Doccan warship wasn’t far off now, and its specter loomed large on their scanners.
“When negotiating, it is useful to consider what one wants and what one is willing to surrender,” Farsus said. “What is it we hope to gain from this discussion with the Doccan?”
“For them to stop fucking things up, for starters,” Kamak said. “Everything that goes boom is one more point in favor of Morrakesh.”
“And now that you mention it, confirming that it is Morrakesh would be a good thing too.”
While Corey’s theory on the identity of their attacker had a lot of supporting evidence, it was still just a theory. If the crew were going to clear their names and put an end to the chaos riding their asses, they needed hard evidence.
“And telling them everything we know about this bastard’s plan, well, can’t hurt,” Kamak said. They had very little to lose by spreading their intel around. The more people knew, the more people had a chance of ruining Morrakesh’s plans.
“So that’s our game, then? Tell them everything and hope they can tell us anything? Great plan.”
“Tooley, as your captain, I’m instituting a new rule,” Kamak said. “Unless you have a better plan—genuinely better, not sarcastically better—you don’t get to talk.”
Surprising the entire crew, Tooley obeyed the new rule and stayed silent. That worried them almost as much as the encroaching Doccan vessel. That concern only lasted until the final proximity alarm blared and made the Doccan ship their first, and only, concern. The warning siren gave them a few last seconds of fearful waiting before the warship itself burst into view. Thanks to the sudden stop inherent to the end of FTL travel, the crew went from staring at nothing but empty space to having a warship dominate their entire view in less than a second.
Kamak had wondered how the Doccan could possibly keep a Corrhulk flying centuries past the vessel’s prime, and now he got his answer: by making it into something other than a Corrhulk. There was barely anything left of the original warship, having been taken apart and reassembled so many times it was borderline unrecognizable. In some places, the Doccan had even added new “gun batteries” by welding entire fighter craft to the ship’s exterior.
“How the fuck does that thing fly?”
“It flies, and that’s all that matters,” Doprel said. “Hopefully their long range comms still work too.”
“One way to find out. Tooley?”
The pilot begrudgingly flipped the switch and put them on an open communication channel. It only took a few seconds for the device to crackle to life. The audio feed from the Doccan was barely there, but it was there.
“Vessel Hard Luck Hermit. A Doprel has indicated you may have information beneficial to the Doccan.”
“We do. And we’re willing to share it, if you can offer the right information in exchange. You understand me?”
“We are aware of bargaining,” the Doccan speaker said.
“Great. You got a designation, pal? This goes a lot easier if I know who I’m talking to.”
“I am an Odorel.”
“That’s good,” Doprel said. “High ranking. We can get something done with that.”
“Alright, Odorel, nice to meet you,” Kamak said. “If you’ll give me a moment, I’m preparing a document that contains everything we told your Doprel. You may have been told already, but I figure it’ll be good for both parties to have an easily transmissible reference file on hand.”
“This is acceptable.”
Kamak wrapped up most of everything they knew about Morrakesh’s presumed plot and sent it over the open channel, giving the Doccan some time to review it before he continued.
“Any thoughts, Odorel?”
“The evidence does support your theory that this entity seeks to manipulate trade routes through our galaxy,” Odorel said. “What it fails to make evident is why this concerns the Doccan. We do not engage in trade with other races.”
“Look at the bigger picture. This guy’s putting pressure on multiple trade routes throughout the universe,” Kamak explained. “If this keeps up, the trade route through Doccan space is going to become more important, not less. There’ll be more armed patrols through your territory, and more attempts to curb your expansion.”
“As a Galactic Council transit officer, license number ten-eight-four-one AB two-point-two,” To Vo added. “I can attest to the fact that there is precedent for armed enforcement of crisis-stricken trade routes.”
“Your distance from the epicenter of these incidents also means the perpetrator has little incentive to assist or aid you,” Farsus continued. “What he does here is meant to harm his enemies, not help you. Once the damage is done, he will have no incentive to offer you support in your defense against a newly aggressive foe.”
“Intriguing points. However, they are based on inferences and suppositions, unsupported by actual evidence.”
“Which we’re hoping you can provide,” Kamak said. “You’ve seen more of this schemer than we have. We’re hoping you can fill in some gaps for us, and we’ll do the same for you.”
“Acceptable. Do you seek specific information?”
“We’ll take anything you can give,” Kamak said. “Though we’d like to start with a comprehensive description of the perpetrator, if possible.”
Corey was still surprised at how professionally Kamak could conduct himself when the time came, especially compared to how he normally behaved. When discussing this exact topic a few days ago, he had phrased the same question as “I want to find out what this intergalactic skullfucking son of a bitch looks like”. Corey liked that version better, frankly, though he doubted the Doccan would appreciate the colorful language.
“The interloper was physically observed by only one Doccan, who never shared what he saw.”
“Why not?”
“The interloper requested the presence of a single Doccan aboard his vessel. The offered Doccan did not return. Two swaps later, the interloper spoke to us in our own language, without the use of translation chips.”
Kamak looked to Farsus, who only shrugged in response. Even he’d never heard of anyone capable of learning an entire language in just two swaps. The average creature’s cognitive ability simply didn’t allow for such rapid learning.
“What kind of vessel did the ‘interloper’ appear in?”
“A purple ship, resembling certain species of aquatic life.”
“Dead ringer for the ship that’s been causing trouble for us,” Kamak said.
“An intriguing but potentially coincidental connection,” Odorel said. “We have provided a great deal of relevant information. Fair exchange demands further concessions from your party.”
“Fine. Are you familiar with Morrakesh and the Morrakesh Collective?”
“We possess as much information as is publicly available,” Odorel said. Being part crime lord and part tyrant, there was little information to be had about Morrakesh.
“We have good reason to believe he’s the one responsible for all of this,” Kamak said. “We had a run in with some subordinates of his before all this started. We believe it may have attracted his attention to our crew and made him decide to use us as a diversion.”
In spite of his attempts at self control, Kamak couldn’t help but side-eye Corey. The fact they’d helped disrupt a shipment of slaves meant for Morrakesh’s menagerie was part of the reason they were in this mess. None of it was Corey’s fault, but he was a very visible reminder of the exact moment their lives had gone off the rails.
“We have no information to support this hypothesis,” Odorel said. “However, we also see no reason to doubt it in the provided information.”
“Alright. Where do we go from here, then?”
“Now we discuss the path forward,” Odorel said. “It has been proposed that if this interloper is so driven on drawing negative attention to you, killing you may earn his favor.”
The crudely welded gun turrets of the Doccan warship drifted slowly but surely in the direction of the Hard Luck Hermit. Tooley’s hand drifted a little closer to their launch button, but Kamak didn’t blink.
“Wrong. If you want to be on Morrakesh’s good side, he wants us alive so he can keep distracting people with us,” Kamak said. “And if you don’t want to help Morrakesh, keeping us alive gives you a better chance in the fight against him. Either way, us being alive works in your benefit.”
The gun turrets almost immediately stopped moving in their direction. Kamak stopped holding his breath.
“The question now, Odorel, is what you want to do about Morrakesh manipulating your entire species.”
“We are not able to make such decisions on behalf of the Doccan as a whole. The matter will require further debate.”
“I understand. Are we free to leave?”
“You will leave with or without our permission.”
“Yes, we will,” Kamak said. “But I’d prefer to end this on a positive note.”
“We have no reason to keep you. We will contact you if it is decided we benefit from your cooperation.”
“Noted. Tooley, shut down comms and get us out of here. We’ve left the channel open too long.”
While open channels were necessary for communications with unknown factors like the Doccan, they had many drawbacks. The wavelength could be easily detected by anyone who was looking -and there were a lot of people looking for Kamak right now.

I have managed to relax my body while remaining conscious. Then I use Sylvan Muldoon’s method of astral projecting by visualizing mist leaving my physical body and forming my astral body above it. I also focus on the medulla oblongata to feel the astral cord. This has giving me the best results, but has not resulted in success yet.
My problem is that my physical body will move, like arms raising, without consciously moving them like I do in the physical, as if on their own. I think this is hindering my astral body from fully leaving my physical body, and preventing my mind from transferring with it. Any ideas on finding a resolution would be helpful, thanks.

There is a guy who went semi-viral on tiktok for making a video wondering why his Great Value marshmallows have a "may contain tilapia" warning on the bag. Tilapia scales can be used to make gelatin along with beef/pork bones as I'm sure you know. However it seems that when listing gelatin as an ingredient it's not required to list the source of the gelatin. I've seen pork gelatin specified sometimes and I am guessing it might be for consumers adhering to religious diets but I don't know.
Since fish is one of the 9 allergens that must be declared, wouldn't the labeling have to be more clear? I know that they're voluntary, but I thought that the "may contain" disclaimers only covered situations where products are being made next to other allergens in the facility. Is GV not sourcing the gelatin thoroughly enough, or are they still following the law?

Hi I just wanted to ask here as im getting nowhere with the doctor. I think I may be suffering from mild seratonin syndrome. I have been taking mirtazapine for around three years and a few days ago I started feeling really strange my pupils keep going really dialated. I've lost my apetite strange headaches on the top of my head along each side. Pins and needles in my legs and arms. My mood is jumping up and down. My anxiety is heightened I don't know what to do

Hi, we're currently hiring for a full time Motion Designer / Video Editor to join our global design and marketing studio at Flight3 (flight3.xyz), the web3 & innovation arm of Flight Story.
Previously we were Zebu Digital (Crypto A.M.'s 2022 Startup of the Year). We also run Zebu Live, the UK's Leading Web3 conference (zebulive.xyz)
We're looking for a passionate, creative storyteller with strong motion graphics and video editing skills to enter a dynamic team of creatives who work with some of the most exciting projects across web3 and web2. We're passionate about bringing brands to life, and we have a lot of fun while we do it!
You can read more about the job here: Check out this job at Flight3: https://www.linkedin.com/jobs/view/3625903876
(note this listing is in Cape Town, but we are open to the right candidate to be fully remote, so long as they are in a workable timezone. We have hubs in London, Cape Town, Manila and Lisbon.)
Please DM me if you are interested with links to portfolios/showreels/cvs, and I will provide contact details to take the convo forward.
Thanks!

Was given a bunch of old beast wars toys but need some parts, if you have any for sale could you DM me?
What I need:
Depth Charge tail/Lance
Rampage weapons and rear crab legs
Jetstorm small fins from shoulders
Inferno head, missile and right abdomen panel
B'boom beast mode head, weapon and missiles
TM Cheetor robot arms/beast head and tail
TM Rattrap whip/tail
TM airazor left arm and vehicle mode skis
TM Tarantulus 3 spider legs and weapon
Rockbuster robot foot
Iguanus beast mode right foot and robot mode left foot
Bonecrusher beast right shell half and missile
Dinobot beast mode limbs and spinning tail
Grimlock beast mode right arm and bone sword

Anyone start taking Jardiance and then get shifted to Synjardy? Specifically if you use the coupon card, does the same card work for both?
Tried to sign up for a Synjardy card and said I already had one activated. Here's to hoping I don't have to literally pay an arm and a leg for it.

I feel like the biggest piece of human trash... I really really really miss being hugged. Having my handheld. Getting to make out. Doing down on her. All I can think about is how I must be broken.
We've talked and she told me I had to compromise, that's what relationships are about. I told her well, the only thing that splits our relationship vs any friend I have that's a girl is I sleep with her. If we're not sleeping together then we're not really in a relationship.
Love language, I'm touch, something like 75% then gifts. She's 75% quality time and then words lol. We're not even close.
It doesn't help that I have CPTSD, it doesn't impact my day-to-day but I am overly affectionate, like being physically close to people and hate sleeping alone.
And every night we go to bed and I don't even want to be touched now so I just lay on the very very edge. It's really hard to sleep in the same bed with someone who won't put their arm over you.
A few times a year isn't enough. Only when they want it. Me not getting off around half the time. Always the same position. Always a quick 5 minutes, grabs her toy, done. No talking. No kissing. Sloths on. It's so depressing hearing things like "'hurry up" or looking at their watch. Wtf. Kiss me don't look at your watch. Urgh. ..
Sorry, it's been a long week. My job has even pretty unsatisfying the last few months. And this just makes it hard to get by.
How do you all deal with the crippling nagging voice that says you're just a piece of human trash. Worthless. No person wants to touch you. How do you move on every day? Is work hard? I use work as an escape. Weekends are the worst.
The last 10 years have been very difficult. What else is there to do? I don't know how to hold on I really need to make out and hold hands and it's killing me.

I qute drive so it wasn't horrible. I just drove extra slow and extra careful. I told the doctor and he didn't say anything about it.

1. Laying flat - I was advised to lay with my chest and legs elevated for at least a week. After a week, I was told to lay however I felt comfortable. The back pain was excruciating sleeping in the sitting position so I took it upon myself to start getting back to sleeping normal. 13dpo I was back to sleeping flat (on my back, that's how I usually sleep) and 15dpo I was able to sleep on my side. It was a bit of an unusual feeling at first but it got better.
   
2. Standing straight - I was never as hunched as I thought I would be (thought I would walk at a 90 degree angle) but I was pretty slouched up until 10 dpo. Around then I was standing fairly straight in the beginning of the day but depending on what I did I would start hunching throughout the day. That lasted for about 3 days. I returned to work on Monday (16dpo) and was fully upright.
   
3. Sex - it was advised to stay away from sex until I was able to fully stand but.. things happen. I was intimate 7dpo with 1 drain in. We were super careful with the scar, the drain and he was gentle. I told my doctor and he wasn't happy but he said everything still looked good.
   
4. Compression - I have yet to find a good compression garment that works for me. I bought one that is similar to biker shorts but I felt it was tighter on my thighs than my stomach, then I bought the underwear type compression that was VERY tight around the lady area which was unbearably uncomfortable, I have the one from the doctor that just wraps around your body which I like but there's were stitching of vertical lines that dig into my skin, and lastly I bought a smoother Velcro wrap compression. I haven't tried it yet but hopefully works.
   
5. Working out - At my 2wpo appointment I was told I can exercise that don't involve using my core or tugging on my scar. I was cleared for easy cardio (inclined walking) and light arm work outs. Yesterday I was able to do a few back exercises and a 15 minute walk. I had my wrap compression on so I wasn't too swollen afterwards.
   
6. Scar - I haven't took pictures of my scar yet but it seems to be healing fine. I was concerned for a bit because the ends of the scar seemed to be very dark, almost black. The doctor said because I am a little darker that it will heal dark then fade close to my original color where as with her lighter patients, their scar would turn dark pink or red before it fades. I have about 4 more sets of scabs that I'm waiting for to fall off. Hopefully by my next appointment they'll be all gone 🤞🏽
   

That's all I've got so far. Hopefully everything stays going good 🥲
P.S. Rip to my bellybutton vitiligo spot 🪦

I have been with him 6 months. I can be very insecure and often feel unloved or uncared for over seemingly small things, I have EUPD and ASD which may weigh into this. I think things might’ve began where I’ve been feeling down quite a lot over him not wanting to cuddle at night; it was getting to me quite a lot and I explained this to him and he went on the defensive leaving me feeling much worse but it got resolved and I let it go. For the day after my birthday I told him beforehand that I wanted to go to my mum’s so we can see my family and have dinner and he said this was fine. On my birthday day I found out he told his band mates he was free on Monday for band practice and he left me crying in the bath until he picked his daughter up and brought her over. then I got over it and hung out with her. Ended up a nice day and evening and he said he would cancel the band practice. So the day after my birthday I felt guilty for making him not do band practice and suggested that he just go for half the time instead of the full duration and he agreed. I still felt sad about it but less guilty. He then told me an hour or so later that he was going to go to his friend’s house to meet their new baby and I cried a lot and told him we were supposed to be seeing my mum so I could celebrate my birthday with family, he said it was my fault for not specifying a time for us to leave to go to my mums. He left me crying quite badly sat on the floor and when he came back I was still crying. He kept asking me to hurry up so we can go to my mums, so the only moment I stopped crying was just before we got through the door to my mums place. Myself and my mum split the cost for takeaway for all of us, he drove me there and back so I thought that was a fair split. Me and him made up on the drive home after his band practice.
Last night he started cuddling me and I felt really happy about it, stuff started happening and he tried to have sex with me but I told him I wasn’t “prepared” yet and it would hurt. He rolled off me and laid on his back, he swears blind that he had his arm on me afterwards but I’m sure he didn’t but whatever. I told him that it upset me that he only wanted a cuddle for sex and he defended himself and I felt invalidated and sad. I told him I feel like he doesn’t care about me and he said that was a hurtful thing to say. He then started feeling really poorly so I put it aside and started cuddling him and trying to make him feel looked after.
Today we were cuddling on the sofa and I thought it might’ve been his way of expressing that he really does care and made me so happy. But he then got up in the middle of a show and started playing on his computer, I asked if he could stay and he said he wanted to play TFT. I ended up crying and I feel like I keep begging him to show that he cares and I keep feeling that he doesn’t. He told me that my behaviour is psychologically abusive (repeatedly crying and saying I feel like he doesn’t care). And that if it weren’t for my diagnoses he would be a lot harsher towards me. I also ended my tenancy at my place early this week so we could live together as it would help with costs for both of us (with his encouragement and blessing) and now he’s just told me it’s not a good idea we live together because I’m never happy with anything he does. I was so upset to hear this because now my living situation is also messed up alongside feeling unsure whether I’m awful or not.
AITA? I don’t want or intend to be psychologically abusive so it’s upsetting to hear that I might be 😞

There’s a saying in my hometown: “Nobody leaves Copper Hill for good.”
For years, I’d mostly managed to defy it. In the decade that followed my graduation from Copper Hill High School, I hardly set foot in its vicinity.
Instead, I absorbed myself in my studies at an out-of-state university and, eventually, my career. I spent the little free time I had with my girlfriend, who I’d met as a sophomore in a chemistry lab, and her friends. When we eventually broke up, I lost not only her, but also what little social life I had.
It was in this state of loneliness that I found a letter from my old high school in the mail. This surprised me, as I hadn’t realized that anyone there even knew my current mailing address.
I opened the envelope to find an invitation inside. Its design was fancier than I’d expected, complete with gold-colored glitter, a royal blue background, and a finely-drawn silver border. It read, in cursive letters: Cheers for 10 Years! Zachary R. ___, Please Join Us for the CHHS Class of 2012 Official Reunion. It went on to list a start time and the school’s address.
On its back, it even contained a personalized handwritten note: I know you live far away, Zach, but it would mean so much to me if you can make the trip. Paul and I will be there, and Arthur may fly in as well. I’d love to catch up! Hope to see you soon – Vince K___, Co-Chair, CHHS Reunion Planning Committee.
Vince had been one of my best friends, once. You see, Copper Hill is one of those rare small towns where you can easily graduate from high school alongside the same friends you first made in kindergarten – in my case, my buddies Arthur, Paul, and Vince.
I’d spent most of my youth with them. The four of us were in the same scout troop, played on the same sports teams, and took mostly the same classes. On weekends – and on weeknights, when we felt like sneaking out without permission – we often stayed up late together playing video games and drinking whatever cheap beer we managed to keep hidden from our parents.
We’d meant so much to each other once. So why, since graduation, had I neglected them so badly? I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d talked to any of them.
Perhaps this reunion could serve as an opportunity for me to reignite friendships I’d let fade. At a minimum, I knew that spending time – even just one evening – with my old pals would do me a lot of good, especially considering how lonely I’d been lately. Accordingly, I resolved to attend.
~
By the time I reached Copper Hill, I was an hour behind schedule due to congestion caused by an accident. As I approached town, I observed amidst the fading evening light that it appeared even quieter and more deserted than I remembered. Bars that had reliably drawn decent crowds on a Friday night ranged from boarded-up to barely occupied. Meanwhile, the few other cars on the street drove lethargically at speeds far below the limit, and I spotted no pedestrians.
In my memory, the school was only a short distance from the courthouse, city hall, and post office that formed most of ‘downtown,’ but my GPS took me down a long, unfamiliar route bordered on both sides by tall cornfields. I was about to pull over and double-check the address I’d entered when, sure enough, my headlights illuminated a sign in the school’s distinct black and red colors that stated: CHHS: Home of the Patriots.
The brick building that loomed behind it was just as I remembered, from its tall, towering middle section to the two narrower wings that stretched out to the left and right. Through the rectangular windows that lined the main building, I made out indistinct, shadowy figures milling about inside.
A banner displaying Welcome – 10 Years – CHHS Reunion stretched over the stairs that led to the main entrance. Underneath it, a familiar figure scurried towards the main entrance. “Arthur,” I said to myself with a smile.
Seeing Arthur improved my mood. He was the only other member of our class to leave town after graduation, and I suspected that he might share somewhat of an outsider status with me.
It’ll be just like old times, I reassured myself as I approached the building. Strangely, though, it still didn’t feel that way.
For one, the air had a staleness to it that was difficult to describe. It felt artificial and thin such that, as I climbed the front steps, I found myself needing to breathe in more of it than usual to avoid getting winded.
Plus, the school’s location still seemed off somehow. It didn’t make any sense – it’s not like a building this large could have been relocated. But, amidst the eerily quiet surrounding countryside, everything felt more isolated and remote than I remembered it being.
I tried to stop worrying. After all, with any luck, I’d soon be laughing and reminiscing with old friends who’d be happy to see me.
Inside, balloon garlands, multicolored streamers, triangle flags, and small banners welcoming attendees decorated the main corridor. I observed tables stocked with snacks, pamphlets, and information about fundraisers.
The only noise came from the intercom, which planned an era-appropriate Calvin Harris song. Everything necessary for a reunion was there, with only one notable exception: the people.
As I approached an unmanned table marked “Check In,” I wondered where everybody had gone. Perhaps the event had moved to a different room? I was late, after all.
As I added my signature to a sign-in sheet, my eyes scanned the list of other attendees who were marked as having already arrived. I recognized many names on it.
Like Alice, who’d shared a stand with me in orchestra. Our conductor was a hard-ass, a real disciplinarian who snapped at us constantly, and Alice was one of the many students he’d driven to tears on a semi-regular basis.
I’d had this petty fantasy of comforting her after class, and then mustering the courage to ask her out. But I never did it. It was Vince, actually, who’d ended up with her.
That had always annoyed me. I’d confided in Vince about how I felt about Alice and, soon after, the two of them were together. It felt as frustrating as it sounds. But, oh well, that’s what I get for hesitating for as long as I did.
Drifting down the hallway, my eyes caught the words “Reception” displayed over double-doors that led to the gymnasium. It made sense as the main location for the event – that’s where homecoming, prom, and plenty of major sports events were held, after all.
I could hear chatter, laughter, and the loud thump of dance music just beyond the gym doors. I approached it excitedly.
But, when I stepped inside, all the noise instantly cut out, leaving me in an eerie silence. Even more perplexingly, the room before me, like the entrance corridor, was entirely devoid of people.
A party had just been here, no doubt. I spotted a makeshift bar stocked with a standard assortment of liquor, tables holding half-finished drinks and refreshments, and an area cleared for a dance floor in the room’s center, but there were no people around. Had I missed everyone again? Where had they gone?
“Hello?” I called out, to no avail, as I drifted around the room in a state of bewilderment.
As I did so, I came across the entrance to the boy’s locker room. Just a whiff of the musty, sweaty smell emanating from it unlocked long-buried memories of the time I’d spent in there.
I remembered one occasion, in particular, where Paul had gotten pissed at me. Paul was usually a pretty low-key guy, but when he lost it, he went wild. On that particular occasion, he’d been angry with me, hadn’t he? But why?
I recalled his hot breath as he got in my face and screamed at me. When I gently nudged him away, he responded by slamming a locker door into my head.
My memories from that moment forward were hazy. There was a growing pool of blood, the pain of his fist against my cheek, and the cheering of the classmates who had encircled us. They were egging us on to continue the ‘fight,’ as if my beating could be called that.
I hadn’t thought about this event in years. How could I have forgotten something like that? My mind churned in confusion. Feeling dizzy, I took a seat on a bench that appeared to be part of a crude photobooth setup as my mind continued to replay this repressed memory.
As Paul had continued to pummel me, I’d spotted Vince among the gathered crowd. I’d begged for him to intervene. But neither he, nor our strangely absent instructor, had done anything to help me. It was only when Arthur got between us that Paul had reluctantly cooled off.
It had taken weeks for those bruises to heal. Had Paul ever been punished for it, or even apologized? Surely he must have. We’d remained friends, after all.
A strange pressure around my shoulder and a sudden bright light jolted me back to the present. The flash on the camera facing the bench I was sitting on had…gone off, somehow, even with nobody around to operate it. How was that possible? Maybe it was automated to go off every so often?
It didn’t make sense, just like so much else that was happening. Where was everybody, and whose voices had I been hearing? I’d seen people from the road, and I’d even watched Arthur come inside, but, as far as I could tell, the event was deserted.
I texted Arthur asking if he’d found anyone. For all I knew, he could have changed his number in the many years that had gone by since I’d last used it, but I figured it was worth a shot. To my relief, he responded right away.
Hey man, long time no see! Paul just called me. He says everyone’s up on the third floor, in Mr. Minelli’s old room. I’m on my way there now. Meet you there soon.
I couldn’t fathom why the entire event would relocate from the area clearly designated for it to the third floor. There wasn’t much up there, after all, aside from classrooms and a few administrative officers.
Nonetheless, I resolved to head up there. Arthur was there, after all, and hopefully the rest of my friends would be as well.
Navigating off my memory of the building’s layout, I hopped up a small set of steps that connected the gym to the second floor. From there, it would just be a short walk past a few classrooms before I’d arrive at the central staircase, which would take me to my destination.
I’d never seen the school quite this gloomy before. Each footstep echoed through the halls. The classrooms were weirdly empty, too, bereft of any decorations or other signs of use.
I recognized one as my calculus classroom. I remembered how, after class had ended one day, I’d come across a group of students congregating in the hallway.
Mary, Michelle, and Abby, like so many of my classmates, had grown up with me, and I’d always gotten along with them. But that day, they were harassing a shy girl – Morgan, I think. Calling her all sorts of names – ‘slut,’ ‘whore,’ ‘bitch’. She was trying to get away from them, but they wouldn’t let her leave. Their taunting of her became a regular thing, and it often left Morgan in tears.
What ever happened to Morgan? Like most of my friends, I’d known her since I was a little kid. She was quiet, but she was perfectly nice.
Then, one day, gossip about her started to spread. The type of nasty, embellished rumors that often make their way through high schools, full of sexist undertones and double standards. Her former friends shunned her, and she’d been subjected to taunting and ridicule as she walked to class and sat alone at lunch. And, one day, she was just…gone. I’d always assumed that her family had moved away, but was that true?
Growing up, Mary, Michelle, and Abby had always been sweet girls. I’d never seen them treat another person the way they’d treated Morgan. But Copper Hill High School had a way of bringing out the worst in people. There was just something about this building, this place, that ate away at their – at our – souls.
Had I bullied Morgan, too? Maybe not, but, once her mistreatment started, it’s not like I’d made an effort to be kind to her, or ever invited her to sit with me and my friends in the cafeteria. I could have done more.
I reached the central staircase. With each step that I took up towards the third floor, a feeling of dread ran through me. I’d seen something terrible happen up here, hadn’t I?
It was Paul and Vince. Arthur had done something to offend them. It could have been the rumors spreading about his reasons for never having a girlfriend, his diminutive size, or the way he’d reacted when Paul had beaten me half to death.
Whatever the reason, Paul and Vince – without my knowledge – had decided to subject Arthur to a cruel prank. After school one day, they’d lured Arthur up to the third floor, where they’d taken hold of him and tried to wedge him into his own locker.
Now, there’s a reason this sort of thing occurs primarily on 90s sitcoms: most people simply can’t fit inside of a locker. Arthur, as short and skinny as he was, turned out to be no exception, but this only made things worse for him.
As Arthur later related to me, Paul and Vince laughed rowdily as they slammed him repeatedly into the metal frame. By the time they finally relented, Arthur had bruises all over his body.
There were other horrible acts, too. Other victims, other beatings. It dawned on me that this place had been an absolute hellhole. It’s no wonder I – and Arthur, too – had gotten as far away from it as we could at the first opportunity.
The peculiar thing was that, in the years that had passed, I’d somehow forgotten all of this until just now. Instead, my recollections of high school were all happy, all positive. Had false memories of camaraderie and friendship drawn Arthur back as well?
Finally, I reached the third level. The overhead fluorescent light fixtures flickered sporadically, revealing, in brief spurts, dilapidated lockers, litter, and layers of dust and dirt that coated the floor.
I approached Mr. Minelli’s classroom. Through the shaded hallway window, I could discern the outlines of roughly a dozen figures inside. I heard a voice, too. It was muffled and indistinct, but I could tell that the speaker was giving some kind of speech. She stopped, and a loud round of applause followed.
I reached for the door handle, unsure of what to expect. Hopefully, it would just be the people I’d driven four hours to see. But, after the events thus far, I half-expected the room to be empty. If so, I was jumping ship and going home.
To my surprise, just before I made contact with it, the door slowly opened on its own. The brightly-lit room before me was filled not with people, at least in the general understanding of the word. Rather, the still, bony forms before me resembled the kind of props a biology teacher might use to teach human anatomy.
The skeletons that stood silently throughout the room – that stood posed with drinks, that sat at desks, and that had assembled around a speaker - had to be props, right? Even though Mr. Minelli was a history teacher?
My mind searched desperately for some kind of explanation. This had to be an elaborate prank, right? Had Vince and Paul lured me, and maybe Arthur, too, out here just to freak us the fuck out? I wouldn’t put it past them – it’s precisely the kind of thing they’d do, even if the whole set-up, complete with an array of prop skeletons, was a bit extreme.
But, then, who was making all the noises I’d been hearing? Was that part of the prank, too?
Fuck it, I thought. If this was a big gag at my expense, then I’d just have to deal with the embarrassment later. I was getting out of there.
“Zach,” called a strained voice in the hallway.
“If this a joke, then it’s not-”
The voice interrupted me. “Zach, help me, please!” It was Arthur’s voice, and it was coming from the hallway nearby.
He sounded like he was in serious trouble, so I hurried after him. Eventually, I found myself in a corner of the hallway – one where, if I remembered correctly, he and I used to have lockers. But, once again, I found myself alone.
I yelled out his name several times: “Arthur! Arthur!” It was no use. I appeared to be at a dead end.
That’s when the locker next to me shook. I jumped back, surprised.
It was shut, but not locked. I gripped the handle and pulled it open.
Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw inside: it was Arthur’s torso. The rest of his body was gone, and something was dragging what was left of him further away, further back into a dark abyss where the wall should have been.
Blood gurgled out of his mouth as he gasped my name one last time. He reached out a blood-covered hand. Hoping to somehow pull him out, I tried to take it, only for whatever unseen force had taken hold of him to pull him away, leaving behind a wide hole in the back of the locker. More blood gushed through it, leaking onto the hallway floor.
“So glad you could make it,” said a monotone voice behind me. I whirled around to see two fleshy arms emerge from another locker across from me. The skinless figure left wet, red stains on the white surface as she got to her feet and stepped towards me. “Don’t you recognize your old crush? Surely ten years haven’t been that rough on me.”
“A-alice?” I stuttered, stepping backwards.
Lockers all around me started opening, each accompanied by a new pair of bloody, seemingly boneless arms of figures that slowly crawled outwards.
My survival instincts kicked in. I sprinted away, my legs frantically carrying me towards the main staircase. All around me, figures emerged, reaching out to me as I passed by. Through an open door, I noticed that another classroom was filled with skeletons, just as Mr. Minelli’s had been.
When I reached the main staircase, it was guarded by a tall, fleshy figure. “Don’t you want to be with us?” it asked in a familiar, deep voice that I knew to be Paul’s. “We can be complete. A full class. All of us, together again. Like old times.”
He lurched for me. Just barely, I managed to dodge him, but I lost balance in the process. Before I knew it, I was tumbling down the stairs. Pain shot through me as I collided with step after step.
Finally, I landed on a level surface. Dizzily, I climbed to my feet and did my best to ignore the soreness that spread throughout my body.
A quick glance upwards confirmed that the bloody figures – the ones that somehow resembled my old classmates – were, indeed, heading towards me.
Meanwhile, the temperature inside was rising noticeably, and the walls around me were steadily changing in color from a dull gray to a deep red.
As I scrambled down the rest of the stairs and across the main corridor on the first floor, an intense tremor ran through the building, sending me sprawling to the ground. Despite a sharp pain that spread through my ankle, I hobbled as quickly as I could to the exit.
I didn’t look back as I made my way across the parking lot to my car. I started the ignition, backed out, and headed towards the long road I’d used to get there.
In my rearview mirror, I chanced a glance back at the school. It was shaking violently, like it was being struck by an earthquake.
My car lurched in different directions as the ground underneath me also started to rumble. In an effort to avoid my car being sent off the road and into the neighboring fields, I frantically steered it to the center, between the lanes heading into and out of town.
When I looked back again, the school was, somehow, even closer to me than it had been before. How was that possible? Was it following me?
I floored the accelerator. Row after row of cornfield flew by me as I drove at the fastest speed of my life.
~
I was on the edge of town, close to the nearest interstate ramp, when local police pulled me over.
As the officer approached me, I stared into the rear view mirror. At the first glimpse of whatever it was that had chased after me, I’d hit the road again, law enforcement be damned. In truth, I hadn’t seen my pursuer since I’d exited the cornfield a few minutes ago, but I hardly felt safe.
“Clocked you going nearly a hundred, son,” said the officer.
I stayed silent. My baffled self was unsure of how to best handle the situation.
The officer gave me a quizzical look as he examined my ID and registration. “You’re Don and Fran’s son, aren’t you? The one who left town?”
I nodded.
“Why’d you come back?”
“There was, uh, a ten-year reunion. For my graduating class.”
He shook his head. “I doubt that.” He looked down, then at my perplexed face. “Where, exactly, was this ‘reunion’?”
“At the school,” I said. I struggled to understand his reaction. What about my story didn’t make sense? And, regardless, was I about to be booked for driving fifty miles over the speed limit? Is that something they throw you in jail for?
“Wait here,” barked the officer. He went to his car where he proceeded to have a long conversation over his radio. After a few minutes, he returned to me. “Get out of here, son. Leave, and don’t come back. Don’t do something like this again. You hear me?”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” I said, astonished.
“Then scram,” he ordered.
I obliged and began the long journey home.
~ I had no idea what to make of what occurred. I can hardly find anything at all online about Copper Hill High, or any of my classmates who went there, and I’m not exactly eager to reach out to any of them.
I can’t make much sense of what happened, but I am sure of one thing: that I barely made it out of that situation, and that I shouldn’t press my luck much further.
My ankle needs some more time to heal. Once it does, I’m going to try joining a social club and making new friends. After what happened to me in Copper Hill, I decided that the past is not a place where I need to dwell any longer.
Two weeks have passed since the reunion. Today, an envelope with no return address arrived with my mail. It contained a single photograph on glossy paper with a short note written underneath.
The photo featured me on the bench in the photo booth. Sitting to my side, with his arm over my shoulders, was Vince. He wore a blue collared shirt and looked…normal. No missing skin, no bloody imprints on the surface around him.
Paul crouched behind us, a dopey grin on his face. He, too, looked just as I’d imagined he would in his late twenties. To Paul’s right, Abby, Morgan, and Michelle posed together with their arms around each other.
It was…a perfectly ordinary image - the exact kind of photo you’d expect to be taken at an event like that.
The handwritten caption underneath read, “Although your visit was briefer than we preferred, we all had a splendid time catching up with you, Zach! Please feel free to come by anytime! Nobody truly leaves Copper Hill, after all. – Vince K___, Co-Chair, CHHS Reunion Planning Committee.
P.S., the note continued, We are delighted that Arthur has finally joined us. Maybe you will, too, at our 20th.
The writing up to this point was cursive font in traditional black ink. The last few words, however, were larger in size, messily scrawled, and colored a deep shade of red: See you then, buddy, if not sooner.
X

So I am lvl 52 now and it seems that people recommend switching from an arms build to a fury DPS or protection tank build at this point. I will probably be DPS in raids but I have been tanking almost all my dungeons up till this point so I might go prot to continue to tank and find groups faster. If I do go prot why not fury/prot though?
I know everyone says fury/prot is not worth it until later but I don't understand why. Looking at the talent trees you don't really get anything going deep prot. All the good talents are in the top half that you get anyway going fury/prot. You get extra damage from talents like enrage and flurry without losing the mitigation talents from the prot tree. Please let me know if I am missing something but it seems the only significant advantage of going deep prot is having points in arms for tactical mastery.

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I've been using the LANEIGE water sleeping mask as a moisturizer recently and it works great for my skin, but the area around my eyes is pretty sensitive and this moisturizer irritates my eyes and the area around them. I need help finding a similar moisturizer without the potentially irritating indredients while keeping a similar formula.
Skin type : normal-dry, sensitive, dehydrated
Ingredients list :
WATER / AQUA / EAU, BUTYLENE GLYCOL, GLYCERIN, TREHALOSEMETHYL TRIMETHICONE, 1, 2- HEXANEDIOL, SQUALANE, PHENYL TRIMETHICONE, PCA DIMETHICONE, CAPRYLYL METHICONE, AMMONIUM ACRYLOYLDIMETHYLTAURATE/VP COPOLYMER, LACTOBACILLUS FERMENT LYSATE, CARBOMER, PROPANEDIOL, TROMETHAMINE, ACRYLATES/C10-30 ALKYL ACRYLATE CROSSPOLYMER, GLYCERYL CAPRYLATE, ETHYLHEXYLGLYCERIN, DISODIUM EDTA, RAFFINOSE, STEARYL BEHENATE, MALACHITE EXTRACT, FRAGRANCE / PARFUM, POLYGLYCERYL-3 METHYLGLUCOSE DISTEARATE, INULIN LAURYL CARBAMATE, TRANEXAMIC ACID, TRYPTOPHAN, HYDROXYPROPYL BISPALMITAMIDE MEA, BETA-GLUCAN, LIMONENE, ACORUS GRAMINEUS EXTRACT, LINALOOL, TOCOPHEROL
TLDR ; Need to find a moisturizer with similar ingredients to the laneige water sleeping mask without the irritating ones.

I’ve been trying to recreate a Jax from Mortal Kombat look but I don’t have the right styles for that everything so out of the way from his character can anyone help me out with style names?