Hi all,
Over the past month I’ve (M22) been intimately seeing this girl (F21). She’s in my college course and I’ve been friends with her since the start of February.
She came on to me heavily when she learned that I became single 2 months ago, and we let it develop slowly into something I’m really enjoying. She’s hilarious, beautiful, and she makes me work for her attention. But - sometimes I feel like it’s too much.
When we see each other (outside of classes etc.), it’s always down to me asking her over to my place, or out to dinner, or to the pub etc. She will always happily oblige even when I say “hey, we can rearrange if you’d like”, and we go on to have a great time. But it’s always me. I even had to invite myself to a movie with her that she wanted to see - and she fully admitted that she mentioned it to get me on board. She won’t ask me to do anything herself!
Additionally , in bed, and in general, the affection I give often feels unreturned. After intimacy, I’ll often “dote” on her, giving her little kisses around her head/body etc and holding her hands. I know she enjoys this (I stopped one night cause I was sleepy and she asked me to do it again), however she never really returns it.
It just feels so one-sided, and I’m not desperate, you know? I can do without it, it’s very early days, but it does still hurt cause I think she’s great. I want her to communicate how she truly feels about me cause at the same time I make her laugh and I can see in her mannerisms that she’s into me. Whenever I pay her compliments, I just get a “thank you” in response, just feels like I’m talking to a brick wall in that regard. It’s like she doesn’t know how to give affection for someone.
I understand that I’ve only been seeing her for a little while - but we’ve both made it clear that we’re not looking for something short. I guess internally I don’t hold my cards close to my chest - maybe I should a little more?
I dunno. Thanks for reading :)
TL;DR: I’ve been giving one-sided affection to a girl that I know is in to me. I’m struggling with the fact that she might not know how to give affection because I really like her

throwaway because people follow my main
hello! i’m 18f and about to move across the globe. australia to canada. ive planned this since i was 15/16 and got into my absolute dream uni. my boyfriend 18m is following me after a couple months when he gets a visa.
i guess my issue is working my relationships with others out. i have 6 days until i leave now (i fly out monday night, writing this on tuesday night at work) and am working tonight, thursday afternoon/night and friday during the day. these are already nights where i won’t be able to have dinner with my family (mom, stepdad, brother and stepsisters) so im trying to maximise my time with them. i’ve already had dinners with each of my boyfriends parents and his parents and siblings are invited to a going away party im having on saturday during the day.
i had a bad harassment situation with an ex friend at the end of high school, and had a panic attack a couple months ago that caused me to ghost anyone who had contact with him, so i don’t even know how to contact some friends about maybe seeing them/them coming to the party. i also don’t like big events because historically at my events people end up being selfish and ruining them for me. the only reason i agreed to this is because i know my mom wanted one.
another thing is people are still asking to see me, my boyfriends grandparents wanted to see me on friday, but i had to turn them down because its too close and there is no way im missing dinner with my family on one of the last days i might have it. my dad who i cut off in november 2022 messaged me wanting to see me, but i ignored him because he’s a POS. i’m afraid my grandmother (seeing me at the party on saturday) will push about it.
i don’t understand why people didn’t ask further out from my moving date. i’ve been very clear about the date of my flight for months now and now people want me to give up precious time with my family (especially my mom who i have anxious attachement to). i know it sounds rude. i told my mom about the issue and she agrees that i shouldn’t go to dinner on friday but also thinks i should be “a bit more tolerant”.

So my (30f) dad (61m) never cooks dinner. Growing up mum (55f) was home with the 5 kids and dad was often away for work. Mum went back to work maybe 15 years ago and worked part time as a nurse- she now works 4 days a week often 10+ hours. When she gets home from work she if always responsible for dinner as no one else in the house makes an effort to cook.
I don’t live at home anymore but I live not far away and sometimes drop in. More often than not I do it’s to help mum because she is tired after a long day at the hospital and the last thing she wants to do is cook dinner. It’s not unusual for her to cook dinner for my dad and 2 brothers (18m/24m) and then not eat. My dad and I do the same job and are shift workers. We travel for work maybe 3-5 day and then usually have a week or so at home before leaving again. Our time at home we are not required to work.
Despite being at home all day, he will not prepare dinner. Not to say he is doing nothing, he might be mowing the lawn, washing clothes, sorting bills, exercising ect but the time is his own.
Now I get frustrated because I see it as disrespectful to mum that she should spend the whole day working and then come home and cook for the family. Often dad sits on the couch next to the kitchen and watches YouTube or the news while mum prepares dinner. Nearly everytime I’m asked up for dinner it’s mum and I cooking while he’s on the couch.
I believe that whoever does not have to attend a paying job that day should organise dinner. I think it also sets a bad example of acceptable division of labour for my brothers.
I have told dad on multiple occasions that he should take responsibility for some of the meals in the house. He gets angry and says it’s disrespectful for me to come to his house and tell him he is being disrespectful- despite the fact that I was invited to dinner- which I then end up cooking for him.
I understand when my parent initially got married they had a more traditional division of labour, but the circumstances in the house have long since changed with 3 of 5 kids moved out and all children 18+ and old enough to fend for themselves.
I’ve offered to teach dad to cook simple meals or try and inspire him to be more involved in the food department but he just laughs it off or is generally disinterested. I should note if we bbq he will grill the meat . Everything else is done by mum
I think if he were to cook one meal for the family without being asked mum might faint from surprise .
My 24y old brother works mon-weds in an office and gets home around 5 he sometimes cooks and the 19y old barely knows what’s spatula looks like. Am i being unreasonable when I tell him off?

Hi, I'm a 2023 grad trying to get a job since 1 year. I got the test invite for Accenture. Can anyone please tell me how long is their process? I've heard from some people that they take months to give offer letter. I don't have so much time, so if that is the case, I would like to focus on other companies.

(Ugh sorry for the typo)
My favorite podcasters will finally be touring my country in October, I’m so excited to see Redhanded. Presale tickets went up today and I bought a pair.
I was excitedly telling my partner last night, and he gave a looot of side eye. “Podcasters do live shows?? What genera? Oh… true crime…” I could see him casting about for nice ways to beg off. We go to a fair number of gigs, dance, orchestra, immersive theatre etc together. He’s just not into podcasts or true crime.
“Oh, no darling, I’m not inviting you, I’m telling you it’s three weeks after Teddy is due and you’ll need to stay home with him. I’ve been waiting for them to tour Oz for years. I’m going with gf and we’ll probably get dinner before. It’s October 12.”
He was visibly relieved, obviously much preferring the prospect of looking after a newborn for an evening to going to the show. Said I should have a few cocktails and have a good night.
I’m still chuckling over it, thought I’d share a silly story about a good partner who fully expects to be a responsible parent and will give me space to continue to be a person. (He has his stuff too.)

Reddit Account: u/Thenn_Applicant
Discord Tag: Garin
Name and House: Dorian Merryweather
Age: 49
Cultural Group: Reachman
Appearance: Dorian's chestnut brown hair has been greying for quite a while, however is short beard retains more color, including a few stray red hairs peppered throughout it. While his features have softened and gained some pudge as he aged past his prime, he remains in overall good shape. This is partly due to his great love of gardening and crop cultivation, which have left his hands and nails rather rough.
Trait: Numerate
Skills: Avaricious (e), Architect, Administrator, Investor
Talents: Language (High Valyrian) Cooking, Gardening
Negative Trait: N/A
Starting Title: Lord of Longtable
Starting Location: Opening Event
Biography:
It has been said; men grow tired of sleep, love, singing and dancing, sooner than war. As such, it begs the question, what does a man have left when he finally tires of war? In pursuit of an answer, of any answer, one half of Dorian Merryweather’s life was spent. He was the second son of Lord Arthor Merryweather of Longtable. Like many others born in a place of natural abundance, he longed for more, for something greater than a mere provincial estate. The tourneys of Highgarden, the hunts of Horn Hill and the books of Oldtown all called to him, and so he could never ride past his father’s mild and verdant fields fast enough. Dorian counted himself lucky not to be the heir, for that meant he could pick where his future lay, unchained from the uninspiring home of his childhood. Instead it was his older brother, Bennard, who envied his free-flying lifestyle, contriving any excuse to join him on his escapades and agurk lessons and ceremonies he ought to have attended.
Lord Arthor was fairly permissive of this deriliction of duties, as the friendships forced on such journeys were worth more than lessons that could be repeated later, or tasks that could be handed off to lowborn stewards. The boys attended tourneys, balls, hunts and feasts, living the life the bards extolled as the height of reachman’s chivalry. The one time they did not shirk their duties was when their father had the honor of hosting King Mern and his court for a tourney on the Warrior’s day. The Merryweather sons would present the king and his family with silver bowls of dilligrout, a most exquisite stew of capons, white wine and almond milk. They had the joy of tasting it once the Gardeners had their fill, a taste they would never forget. On the tournament field three days later, Mern knighted them both, though Dorian was only sixteen at the time, green as a knight could ever be.
Five years later, as news of Aegon Targaryen and his early conquests spread, the lords of the Reach were summoned to Goldengrove, where they found a veritable forest of Westermen’s banners being planted beside their own. The fall of the Storm Kings had led to a whirlwind of diplomacy between the houses of Gardener and Lannister. The plan was presented to the lords with the two kings sitting beside one another on the dais as though they were brothers. They held up Aegon’s letter of demands, scornfully reading it aloud and then proceeded to tear it up to a roaring acclamation from the hall. Standing there before the hall, Mern could hardly be called the Warrior incarnate. There stood a man well past his prime, old enough to be a grandfather and with no great victories to his name, in battle or on the tourney field. All the same, this man, whom they called their king, always seemed to know exactly what to say to win someone over. If he’d declared war on hell itself that evening, the Merryweather brothers would probably still have marched off with him when the next morning dawned. Bennard and Dorian shouted as loud as anyone, death to the foreign upstart. That evening were betrothed to westerwomen they’d never met before, made plans for a real battle, which they had never fought in before, and drank, ate and sang as though the night would last forever. House Merryweather was not able to secure a command, yet King Mern remembered his stay at Longtable fondly. He gave Bennard and Dorian a place in the vanguard, and even adorned Bennard with a brooch of the order of the green hand the morning before the army Goldengrove, a momentous honor which Bennard would cherish for the remainder of his days. He did not have many left, as it turned out. The Field of Fire began like a dream, as the two brothers rode off at the break of dawn, two out of five thousand sets of gleaming armor atop proud warhorses. By the end of the day it had become a nightmare. Caught up in the maelstrom of battle, Dorian did not see the moment when their loss was assured, but the Gods know he could hear it, the creeping, hungry flames that descended on the reachmen like an army of its own. As hundreds were broiled inside their steel plate and thousands more choked on the inferno’s horrible vanguard of black smoke, Bennard and Dorian broke and fled. They were not far behind the retreating Loren Lannister in their escape, but half a minute made all the difference. The lines of fire fanned out, hunting more living things to devour, and engulfed the two brothers. Dorian could feel how the flames spread from his surcoat to his undershirt, all the way down to the hairs on his chest, beginning to sear his skin. In a desperate act he threw himself in the Blackwater, and would have perished if not for the shoddy work of his squire that morning, which left him able to tear off his plate before he could sink. With bloodied, burn-marked fingers, he clung to the roots of a tree by the riverside, water up to his chest. He was retrieved after some time, how long he could not say. For the next two moons his mind was adrift, distracted from his pains by milk of the poppy. The next two were far worse, as he grew more lucid and realized the extent of the damage. A burn-mark stretched from his right thigh, all the way up his chest and left bicep to the apple of his neck. Many times over, flakes of dead or dying skin had to be peeled off by the maester as the scabs kept bursting with blood and clear liquid. By the end of that year he was able to walk again, though the burn mark would leave a feverish red mark across the front of his body, his new skin settling into twisted lines.
Bennard was far worse for wear, alive yet burned all the way to his face and crippled from a fall off his horse. His nose and ear-lobes had to be cut off, too burned to save, and even his eyelids were permanently scarred, unable to sprout new lashes. The more lucid Bennard became, the deeper his sorrow. Eventually he began refusing food. The new lord of Longtable would not eat anything his cooks set in front of him. In spite of his ever present pains, Dorian began going to the kitchens, reprimanding the cooks for their failings. He knew his brother well and knew his palette, and began ordering them to make his brother’s favorites. When he felt they were making mistakes, he interrupted their work himself. He was a stranger to the kitchen, yet would criticize how things were cut too roughly, spiced too little or too much. He was a terror to the cooks, yet they could not refuse him.
His attempts to intervene were however hampered by a newfound aversion to heat. The sound of the hearth, of boiling and searing, the general sense of warmth around him made him nauseous and caused his movements to seize up. Still, he went to his brother’s bedside every day, and afterwards he forced himself back to the kitchens. His sister, Lydia, tried to stop him at first, but soon found her protes fell on deaf ears, and so joined him, if only to leash him in when he went too far. Finally, there was only one dish they hadn’t tried; the dilligrout they’d once served to the late King Mern. Every time it was made, it came out wrong. It soon turned out the cook who had served them that evening six years ago had since retired, and his exact method had never been recorded or taught to anyone else. Dorian would first invite the man to Longtable, then summon him with armed knights when invitations were refused.
Theomar, the man who appeared before him, was a sorry sight, looking frightened and confused as he was taken to his old workplace. It was explained by his sons that he’d been growing senile even six years ago, often snapping at the kitchen maids under him when his memory failed him. Since then he’d gotten worse, seldom eating, let alone cooking. Something in the old man’s eyes did seem to brighten for a moment when the sounds and smells of his old kitchen surrounded him, and Dorian ordered him to make dilligrout. Before long that faint spark had been drowned out by tears. He would start boiling capon or crushing almonds, only to leave the job half-done whenever he had to fetch something new. Serving maids were put at his disposal to bring him ingredients, yet an ingredient ordered would be met with a reprimand as he seemed to forget which dish he was making every few minutes. Finally Dorian snapped at the man, grabbing him by his collar and shouting accusations of treason against House Merryweather. By the time Lydia could restrain him and try to apologize, the man was a wreck on the floor. After watching it for a while, waiting for the man to get up and continue his work, even Dorian was overcome by pity and shame for what he’d done. The old cook was praying to the gods, begging forgiveness for his failings. Dorian began to realize he’d broken a great man down and would himself beg forgiveness. He offered the man his old cook’s quarters back for the rest of his life, and promised his sons that his maester would tend to the man in his old age, that he would be fed from Longtable’s stores.
At this point, he resolved to make the dilligrout himself. Through it all, Bennard was barely clinging to life, or rather being tethered to it by the will of others. He could only be fed when drugged down by the milk of the poppy, and the more often it was used, the less effective it became. Every day Dorian braved the kitchens, yet he could not recreate the flavor of that wonderful night. It was by the grace of the gods, perhaps with Theomar as their vessel, that Dorian would even come close. The old man could no longer cook, but over time he began to wander into the kitchens and sit down on a chair. At first Dorian thought the man only sought the warmth of the hearth for his weary bones, yet he discovered it to be more than that. Theomar’s eyes were like clouded glass, yet they brightened every now and then, hearing almonds being ground, smelling capons searing in fat, as though it was stirring the kitchenmaster of yore back to life. Eventually Dorian began to walk up to the old cook with his ingredients, bidding him to smell or taste small portions. Sometimes he got simple instructions out of it, ‘too coarse’, ‘too sour’, ‘underdone’. Som times a mere nod or frown was all Theomar managed. Over the course of a couple of days, Dorian put together one final attempt to get the dish made rightWhen he arrived in Bennard’s chamber, he was met with a look which brought forth discomfort that no flame could produce in Dorian. Plainly, raspingly, his brother asked him why he wouldn’t let him die. It was easy, Bennard reasoned. All Dorian needed to do was wait and become lord. The words almost made Dorian throw the dilligrout on the floor. Almost. He placed two bowls on Bennard’s table, the dilligrout and one brimming with milk of the poppy. Dorian told his brother to make his choice. If he sought death, Dorian would let him, but he would not hear that it was an easy thing, watching his brother die. That evening, the milk of the poppy was carried away by the maester, the empty bowl of stew taken to be washed in the kitchens. From then on, Bennard ate what his brother brought him without complaint. He lasted just into the new year, dying on its tenth day. In the predawn gloom of the twelfth, Theomar died in his sleep
Dorian took up his lordly task joylessly. His old wanderlust returned, spurred by the horrible memories that now stained Longtable and the reach itself in his mind. The final straw came when their new Tyrell overlords, insisted on him marrying a lady from a dornish house. His previous betrothal had fallen through, as the parents of his western bride had not wished to draw the ire of the Targaryens by maintaining an old alliance meant to oppose them. Instead of obliging, he boarded a ship from Oldtown going east. It stopped only briefly in Planky Town before going to Tyrosh. Noting him to be a nobleman, a few of the city’s wealthy men would host him for a while, though they quickly lost interest when his lack of knowledge of trade became apparent. After that, he spent time in the markets and squares where the common people lived. His old curiosity was piqued, and he decided to embark on a quest of learning, fashioning himself another Lomas Longstrider. He moved on to Myr, and the experience was much the same in broad strokes, a few rich men showed interest and quickly lost it. As he’d visited the dye markets he went to see the city’s famous artisans at work. One thing was notably different, he met a Tyroshi woman with green-dyed hair, going by the name Maryah. She was a trader, and the two had taken the same ship to Myr. She had been to Myr before and showed him many of its secrets. They spent an entire day in one of the vast delicacy markets so she could show him the many tastes of the city. Having no plans in advance, he asked where she was headed next.
Without a second thought he would join her on a journey to Lys. He soon understood it to be a test. It was not long before she teased him, speculating he’d only joined her for a chance to see the famous pleasure houses. Evening after evening they stayed in the city and Maryah would tease and test him over the matter. Finally he told her he’d renounce his betrothal for her, that there was no one else in his eye. She laughed, replying he would not have to. The next morning, Dorian awoke to find that she was already up, the green washed from her black curls. Maryah had in fact been Joanna Dayne, his dornish bride to be, having traveled the same route as him ever since his ship stopped at Planky Town to refill its food and water. She was already quite familiar with the three closest free cities, having served as a dornish envoy on behalf of its spice traders. As they planned their return to Westeros, Joanna asked him what else in the world he wanted to see. Within a few moons of being wed, they left Westeros, not to return for three years.The journey was what his mind needed, away from the Reach, its knights and tapestries, hunts and tourneys. Ultimately, the lords and knights of his homeland, for all their songs and poetry, lived every day in preparation for war, frivolous though the preparations were. Joanna showed him a different world, the remnants of Old Valyria. War was to be sure inescapable. Wherever they went, there were soldiers, tapestries, contests of arms, and yet the cities housed something else as well, a boundless potential for creation, commerce and growth.
Thanks to Joanna Dayne’s knowledge their stays became far better planned, and they could enjoy the hospitality of wealthy locals far longer. She knew how to talk about the spice trade and similar matters, and Dorian began to pick up on it. On their second stay in Myr, he procured a great deal of fine parchment and began taking notes, everything from negotiation tactics and the prices of cloves or red peppers to court customs, as well as more eclectic pieces of knowledge, details of running an eastern estate, descriptions of technological marvels he had never seen in Westeros, and ingredients in the local food. By the time they neared Qarth he had quite the list of recipes, among other things. There he was even able to learn a few all the way from Yi Ti, as some local cooks catered to merchants from the Golden Empire. On their journey home they’d end up taking the opportunity to see the newly made port of King’s Landing. By that time, a third member had joined their journey, their infant daughter Florys. Having left Longtable in the care of his sister and steward for three years, Dorian finally accepted the responsibility of running his ancestral home.
Longtable was considered to rule over some of the best lands in the Reach, ideally situated along the river with abundant soil which could provide two grain harvests in a year. Having seen the estates which supplied the great cities of the east, Dorian was all too aware of its comparative shortcomings. He found that the abundance of the land had a counterproductive effect, breeding complacency and carelessness. From his grandiose tour of the east, he went on a painstaking tour of his own lands, trying to get an overview of everything he ruled over. He paid the citadel a fee to send him half a dozen maesters in training for a season. These young men, literate and numerate, would serve his own maester in conducting a survey of the land, giving Dorian account of all resources at his disposal as lord. The results were quite varied.
Some peasants were found to have remarkable agricultural insights which they had no way of writing down, entirely reliant on passing the knowledge to their children. Knowing the risks of such a method of transferring knowledge, Dorian ordered such insights recorded. In other places there were farmers and communities who were unwittingly exhausting their soil. Instances of lack of fallow land, excessive grazing by cows and lack of crop rotation were also made note of, followed by edicts against such heedless practices. Septons, sheriffs and tax collectors were given written copies and were obliged to read them to the peasantry wherever it was deemed necessary. It also became part of the obligations of farmers to plant a set amount of clover in their fields and pastures, a practice some had taken up on their own but which had already become a standardized law among the estates belonging to Myr and Volantis. Irrigation was expanded and land inheritance was reformed to prevent the splitting of fields past a certain threshold.
Lord Dorian was not always successful. Some eastern ideas had been useful innovations which improved conditions across the board. In time he learned that the peculiarities of the westerosi system were sometimes necessary for the sake of stability, not merely the misshapen fruits of ignorance. His attempt to enclose part of the common lands proved abortive, as it nearly caused a peasant rebellion. A procession of aggrieved smallfolk headed for Longtable had to be dispersed by knights, armed with wooden clubs to prevent needless bloodshed.Two men were hanged and five sent to the wall, but the reform was thereafter abandoned, leading the populace to calm down. Dorian was not much of a military leader and had not wielded weapons since the Field of Fire. He became aware of his need to bolster his forces, a notion reinforced by the establishment of the Black Roses not long after his return, and again with the Kingswood Catastrophe
In the meantime, he and Joanna raised a family together. Three more daughters would be born healthy, with a couple of miscarriages and a stillbirth in between, also a daughter. Their travels did not entirely come to an end. In 13 AC they would tour the northern free cities of Norvos, Qohor, Pentos, Braavos and Lorath, which they had missed on their original journey. The lion’s share of 17 AC was spent on a journey to the Summer Islands. At other times they would make shorter journeys around the Seven Kingdoms, where they felt more secure in bringing their older children along. Whether it was visiting Joanna’s family in Dorne, tourneys and feasts in the Reach and West or even one trip to see the wall, a nameday wish by Florys, they were often on the move. Like most of their peers, they frequented Oldtown and Highgarden
The growing rift between the two queens and their children was a situation Dorian would watch with dread in his heart, remembering keenly how a generation of young men had been brought to the field of fire. To his mind, the Targaryen rule ought not go to waste. Like Valyria of old, it had begun with fire and blood, yet similarly peace and prosperity had followed in its wake. If only the dragons could stand united, perhaps another long peace like the one the Freehold once enjoyed could again be established. If not, another century of blood was upon them. Under Dorian, Longtable became a place where he sought to bring together people from across the kingdoms and forge unity over the dinner table, an attitude which somewhat vexed and confounded his more militaristic daughter and heiress, Lady Florys. Even amid her questioning of the viability of his peaceful ways when surrounded by those who would make war, a terrible sight would steel his resolve, watching the Mander burning green, every bit as terrible as the flames from twenty one years prior. That night he made a simple vow, never again.
The League of the Cornucopia, he would name his little group, a gallery of lords and ladies whose acquaintances he’d made over the years. With these fellow gourmets he would share the culinary knowledge he’d gleaned from his journeys in the east and west. Most unusual for a lord of his rank, Dorian came to spend a great deal of time in his kitchens, testing out recipes himself. On occasion, the dishes he served to his guests for these small, intimate gatherings would be the work of his own hands. The membership did vary from time to time, both based on who could make it and who he sought to bring together. Rather than a fully closed circle, the League is more like a form of feasting, only it’s done for a much smaller crowd, without the public spectacle. Such occasions allowed for more refined foods which did not need to be served to hundreds and kept constantly warm over the course of hours like some common tavern stew. It also opened up an arena of more intimate diplomacy and negotiation for those who sought it, hosted on neutral ground by a lordly mediator, free from prying eyes.
Timeline:
25BC: Dorian is born, second in line to Longtable
24BC: His sister Lydia is born
9BC: House Merryweather hosts House Gardener for a tourney and feast. Dorian and his older brother Bennard serve the dish of honor to King Mern Gardener and his family. During the subsequent tourney, Mern knights both boys, despite their inexperience and lack of victory in the tourney
9BC-2BC: Dorian spends much time travelling the reach, attending events
1BC: Dorian and Bennard fight in the vanguard at the Field of Fire. Both are burned, Bennard far more severely than Dorian. Lord Merryweather is killed. Traumatized by the battle and his new maimed body, Bennard starts refusing food. Dorian desperately tries to re-create the dish they served King Mern eight years ago. The cook who made it has since gone senile, but eventually manages to help Dorian re-create it. He is given a place at court as apology for his mistreatment at Dorian's hands before this occurred.
1AC: Lord Bennard dies at the beginning of the year, leaving Dorian as lord of Longtable. His sister Lydia fulfills her betrothal to House Tarly, becoming lady of Horn Hill. At the prospect of marrying a Dornishwoman on the King's orders, Dorian decides to leave Westeros to put off his marriage. In Myr, he meets a woman calling herself Maryah, claiming to be a Tyroshi merchant. They fall in love and travel to Lys together. There Dorian promises to set aside his betrothal for her, whereupon she reveals herself as Joanna Dayne, his dornish betrothed.
1AC-4AC: Dorian and Joanna wed at Longtable, then depart on a new journey of the east. They reach as far as Qarth before turning back home. In 3AC, on the way back, their first child, Florys, is born while the couple are in Volantis, on the way home. They return via the newly built port of King's Landing.
4AC-8AC: Using knowledge from the east, Lord Dorian embarks on a project of rationalizing the agriculture of Longtable
5AC: Dorian and Joanna have their second child, a girl named Ellyn
8AC: Their third daughter, Desmera, is born
13AC: Dorian and Joanna spend a year travelling the northern free cities
14AC: Their fourth and final daughter, Gwin, is born
17AC: Dorian and Joanna undertake a journey to the Summer Islands with their children
23AC: The aftermath of the battle of Stonebridge brings back memories of the Field of Fire, as the Merryweathers watch burning slag run down the Mander
25AC: The Merryweathers travel to the celebration of the maturity of Aegon's sons
Family Tree:
Arthor Merryweather (father, d.1BC)
Cerelle Merryweather (pending family connection) (mother, d.20AC)
Bennard Merryweather (brother, d.1AC)
Lydia Merryweather (sister, b.24BC)
Glendon Merryweather (uncle, d.1BC)
Myrcella Pommingham (aunt, d.22AC)
Leo Merryweather (cousin, b.13AC)
Joanna Dayne (wife, b.26AC)
Florys Merryweather (daughter, b.3AC)
Ellyn Merryweather (daughter, b.5AC)
Desmera Merryweather (daughter, b.8AC)
Gwin Merryweather (daughter, b.13AC)
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Auxiliary Character:
Name and House: Florys Merryweather
Age: 23
Cultural Group: Reachman
Appearance: [A short, muscular woman with wavy black hair, normally worn in a bun. She has high cheekbones and a proud demeanor. Her rigid strength stands in contrast to the more relaxed nature of the Merryweather court, one she finds overly lax and casual](0_0.png (896×1344) (discordapp.com))
Trait: Hale
Skills: Swords (e), Essosi Blademaster
Talents: Dancing, Fishing, Cooking
Negative Traits: N/A
Starting Title: Heir to Longtable
Starting Location: Opening Event
Timeline:
3AC: Florys is born in Volantis, while her parents are on their way home from Essos
10AC: Florys starts training under Saathos Trevelyan, her father's Master at Arms
13 AC: She joins her parents on a tour of Pentos, Braavos, Norvos and Qohor
17AC: She travels with her parents to the Summer Islands
19AC-23AC: As she comes of age, Florys becomes more critical of her father's desire for peace, viewing it as increasingly far-fetched amid the increasingly controversial regency and the impending succession dispute. She resolves to make the kinds of connections her father seems unwilling to, in case of war
25AC: She accompanies her family to the celebrations
NPCS:
Ser Leo Merryweather (Age: 37, Archetype: Magnate) Lord Merryweather's first cousin, he has become an indispensable agent in the daily running of Longtable. Despite his foppish demeanor and aparent laziness, he is highly capable and loyal in his task of increasing his family's fortune. He remains happily unwed
Saathos Tevelyan: (Age:48, Archetype: Master at Arms) The son of a Lysene father and a Myrish mother, Saathos initially sought a career in amongst Myr's military officers, however his family's relatively low status proved an impediment to further promotion, later compounded by a dispute with a superior. He met Lord Merryweather in 3AC and eventually travelled West to offer his services five years later, finding his career progress stonewalled in his home city. Well into middle age, he still looks firm and imposing as profesisonal a soldier ought to

Hey everyone, I had the opportunity to land a sales job cold calling people getting leads for the founders. Pretty much my dad belongs to this Italian gentleman’s club where we all get dinner once a months he invites 15+ people and we all have a good time. The last time I was there I march my dads friend wanted to give me the opportunity to start doing cold calls for him and I would get $250 per appointment set (big company) pretty much I started the sales courses he sent me and I spent 30-34 maybe 35 hours max watching these videos and taking these courses. I started working there last week doing a bunch of zoom calls to learn how to get my hubspot set up. I was kind of struggling with the pitch for the first week and my boss could tell. I also have a really deep voice so sometimes when I talk it sounds funny. Can’t control that, either way he told me on Saturday that he wants to me to spend the next 2 weeks copying the pitch word for word, watching videos, and having me write a essay on why our group would be a good company. Then later today I come home from my part time job, now full time to find out that he texted my dad saying, I do not have a lot of tech knowledge , that he thought this would be hard for me to do, he pretty much just said it wasn’t a good fit. What I am upset about is that I have been through so much shit in my life, that I was really ready to make a change and get my life on track. I’ve spent the last month watching hours and hours of sales videos, adjusting my sleep schedule ,waking up more early, eating better, etc. just to find out that he’s given up on me before I could even start.
He told me to call him tomorrow, but I already know what he going to say, what would you guys do

Not orthodox, but I have a question about the fasting. I looked at the fasting calendar and it seems to be very strict in some ways and I have questions.
What if you are invited to a dinner or something like a birthday party on a Friday? Are you still expected to keep the fast?
How can one be expected to fast every Friday when a lot of people’s schedules the only day they can go out with certain members of their families or friends to eat on a Friday?
Including days like Mother’s Day where you have non orthodox family invite you to a family dinner? Or any family dinner in general
Am I looking at this the wrong way? The fasting seems burdensome to me and seems to be like a one size fits all approach
Is there situations where you don’t have to fast or it isn’t a sin if you don’t fast?

Accept my invite & Get 4 freebies! Download Temu and search my code to accept my invitation: 227012518
Will only help back of you accept my code first and let me know at least the first and last letter of the user name.

I'm a new DM and this is my first campaign. We've yet to have a player death (although a few close calls). I had an idea for an encounter that will almost certainly result in a player death. I think it'd be pretty memorable, but I'm a little worried it would take away too much player agency. Any feedback would be appreciated.

Strahd has now invited the party to dinner twice, and each time they have refused to attend. He's feeling a bit upset about this. He'll meet the party in person this time to extend the invitation again.
If it is refused (which it will be), he'll talk to the paladin a bit about how he must like to sit in judgement of others. Strahd will then ask the paladin who among their group he judges to be the least worthy. If the paladin refuses to answer, Strahd charms him and asks him again.
Stahd promptly kills whoever was named, and then casts Gentle Repose on the body. He apologies for being rude and promises to rectify it as long as the party rectifies their rudeness as well by joining him for dinner. He warns them not to wait long or some things that have been done may not be able to be undone.
Assuming the party complies, at some point during dinner he will present them with a scroll of revivify from his library collection.

Thoughts?

Some complains are fair, but there are people here just being unfair.
People are complaining about nerfs on heroes that they invested. We all know a game is balanced time to time, you put all your eggs in one basket because those characters were BROKEN, and everyone knows that broken shit gets nerfed. Or do you expect to only use Marilee and Korin forever on dream realm?
Also, invite letters aren't as necessary to progress as they were in the launch, I rather get more essence on afk stages rewards now, it that bad of a change. I've even seen someone complaining that the world content is taking too long to complete.
The afk team is doing many things wrong, but some complains here are just unfair.

Accept my invite & Get 4 freebies! Download Temu and search my code to accept my invitation: 227012518
I will only help back if you do my code and let me now the username. At least the first and last letters or number.

Little weird one...
Met this girl on hinge a few weeks ago and it started out great. We were texting what seemed like non-stop, and initially bonded over one of my captions stating I need a Wedding date for some weddings I am going to this summer.
Last Saturday I invited her out and after her wanting to, she didn't due to her living an hour away and having a broke down car. Later that night around 2 am as I got home from the bars she was spamming me that shes coming to my city and how her and her friend want to come drink and stay the night. I was out for my birthday so I was more drunk than I should have been and kept drifting off and waking up. She got to my house closer to 5 am, and I said she can come in but I am sleeping instead of drinking and she ended up going to her friends place that she brought with her.
We were sort of planning brunch Sunday morning but I didn't give her a definitive answer, and she ubered back to her city, While on the uber back she was begging me to come to her city. First for brunch, then dinner and ultimately we decided on Dinner. She went fishing on a boat with some friends (I was thinking maybe a date type thing but she claimed all dudes on the boat have GFs and its a friend group) and lost her phone in the river and didn't hit me up till monday.
This is the turn... Monday she apologized saying she lost her phone (she was texting me on an iPad) and she just went kind of distant. Not responding in the same style, long responses, etc... This went on to Wednesday were I hit her up saying if she still wanted to be my wedding date as one was coming up soon and I had to let my friend know if I had a +1 due to a head count. She apologized for being distant, said she really wants to be my +1 and that was that. Thursday we picked up the conversations and while it wasn't as good as the beginning, she was responding fast. She ended up leaving me on read and we haven't hit each other up since.
I know I have only known her a few weeks and while yes I do talk to some other girls, she just hasn't left my mind. I leave for a trip here Saturday for a couple weeks and was thinking about hitting her up when I'm back but I just can't shake this one... Thoughts?

I don't really no where to start. I feel I've lost myself, consumed with anxiety and guilt and fear and regret and I fear, this new fear, that it's going to be the end of me if I don't start to get it out in some way, shape or form.
I guess I'll begin at the beginning...
​
I had a difficult childhood with fairly neglectful parents. A mother who openly expressed she never felt she really stepped into her mom shoes until she gave birth to my younger sister, who is three years younger than me. She is my only sibling. My mother told me when I was a kid that she "had to love me", but when my sister came around "she was finally a mother and over the moon", or simply "I always always wanted a girl". I'm not sure if this could be attributed to Post-partum depression, not that she ever researched that or was daignosed with it. That's probably just me trying to pardon my mother or something to the effect. She was 17 when she had me and I'm sure times were different then, my parents both were raised religious, father christian, mother mormon. Maybe their guilt. I ask myself why they brought me into this world if I wasn't wanted to begin with. Or, give me up for adoption to a set of guardians that would have loved me better. I know I was an accident and that's not what gets me down, I get that life be lifing and what happened happened. My difficulties stem from the feeling that my presence never gave my mother any sense of purpose, responsibility or love, or concern. She was emotionally unavailable to me virtually my entire life and I feel like that caused many issues later in my life and how I perceive myself and what I deserve. Coupled with the fact that my neglect met such extremes that I am frankly shocked that I was never picked up by child care services, maybe things were different in the 90's. I'm not sure, I was just a child then.
Much of my upbringing I didn't receive a lot of the things most people would consider essential. As a baby my crib was the sock drawer, then I grew large enough to have a closet, then slept on the floor of a walk-in closet, then I had a single bed from what I recall for maybe a year or maybe two years and I remember feeling metal springs poke me in the my ribs and I recall it being uncomfortable enough for me to move back to sleeping on the floor next to the ratty old used mattress my father found from who knows where. I remember feeling like I had to keep that secret, that the mattress they gave me was uncomfortable enough for me to sneak sleeping on the floor next to it. I think I was really afraid as coming across as ungrateful. My father came from a third world country, so the "gratefullness issue" was address frequently by my mom because "I don't have it even half as bad as what my father had to endure. And she was probably right. But it just silenced me ultimately, didn't put things into a mature context for me. I just learned that I can't complain about anything ever. Anyway, that trend didn't really change when I grew older. grade 9-10 I was sleeping on the living room couch so my sister could have privacy and a bedroom to exist in for herself - which I realize is important for an individual so I encouraged her to have the bedroom. Although I figured my parents expected me to do this for my sister regardless. I was okay with making sacrfices for those I love, it was instilled in me from a very very young age.
I do feel like my father took advantage of me in the form of labour as well, having to do custodial work with my father from 10pm to 3am, at two highschools I believe he was contracted, at that young age I honestly enjoyed just spending time with my father I think, working alongside him. When I was in grade 2 and 3 I had garbage bag duty for all the students bathrooms, and I remember loving snapping the bags open by rushing air into the bag and making it blow up like a baloon. I remember the scary unlit shadowy hallways that I couldn't perceive the ends of. No bodies to see, it felt eerie but exciting in a way - like it was a whole different world.
School was a different experience for me. It was very stressful, my parents had to move a few times a year because they would dodge rent or just generally be selfish with their dual income. They loved to party hard on the weekends. I remember wondering why my father did this to himself all the time. Hoping that we could spend quality time on a saturday, but he wouldnt get out of bed until just before dinner. I didn't really understand hangovers or alcoholism and how it meant our plans would get cancelled. I think I remember trying to wrap my head around willful self-poisoning for entertainment and how could that be more enjoyable then spending time with your son? I couldn't tell my mother why I was so sad about it. Why I didn't want to move again and again and again. Why I found it so difficult to make new friends everytime I had to switch schools. Why I couldn't just do one single full school year with one class of students. It was so hard and at the time, I didn't know anything different. It was so hard to make friends and I think it created this approach to making a "new family" of friends when I became a teenager and young adult.
​
I remember always wanting to be a "good kid". The "best kid" for my parents. I feel like my parents attached this moniker to me that made things harder for me to mature into a rounded adult later in life. My parents always flaunted me as this point of accomplishment, the accomplishment that I was "so extremely well behaved". I would strive to be super polite, and a good host, try to help out when my parents had their friends over, literally fill their cups when the opportunity presented themselves. I think I did this because I must have made the conclusion that if I was quiet, super polite, helpful and useful then I had value. That I could be loved. That I could earn this love from my parents through acts of service.
I remember feeling like my sister and I had extremely different experiences growing up. When my parents were at work I took care of her, cleaned and cooked. one time my sister told my mom to eff off when she was 5 and I was 8. My mind was blown. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that she had the bravery and courage to defy my mother. Looking back, my sister was just mirroring the language she learned from my parents from whenever they fought. I remembering seriously worrying and getting scared that my father was going to belt her, or use the coat hanger, which was his preference with me. I feel like my mom was always checked out and I'm hurt that she allowed my father to take his rage out on me. That my mom could care less about me being beat, but never my sibling. It was very confusing and difficult for me to process. Not that I really processed it much as a kid. I honestly just wanted to be loved and be the best child possible. Honestly though, 'm seriously so glad that my sister was spared all of that complete non-sense. I don't wish that on anyone in the world. There were some punishments where he would walk in and tell me to pull my pants down without explanation. I have memories of tearing up and saying I didn't know why this was happening, asking what I did wrong and he would just remind me that if I resisted then I would get it worse and to hurry up and get ready. My father has since apologized. I think it is how he was raised. I didn't know what to say in response, but I told him I loved him and it's in the past. But I don't know if I was being honest when I said that. My mother would still gaslight me to this day if any of this became topic of discussion, not that I'm guessing. A year ago she told me that much of my pained memories were false and this never happened. My father on the other hand typically stays pensive and unchallenging.
It seems so damned crazy writing all of this out, it feels like a heartbreaking novel and not my life at all. But it was and is my life. I have difficulties opening up and expressing my feelings and advocating for myself when the moments are true and appropriate to do so. I know it's the healthier way to communicate, but I was literally taught to stay quiet and be useful. Fast forward 20-25 years and I'm going to be 35 and I feel like just ending it all. Every year my birthday passes and I'll get a text from my family happy birthday. But they know I'm in a difficult place, they know I miss them, they know I love them and forgive them, I try the high road whenever I can but I just don't see the point anymore. they won't celebrate my life and existence, but they'll throw family gatherings for each other, birthdays, christmas, fathers day and mothers day.
On that note, another mother's day has recently passed and my mother never invited me over, I texted my father three weeks in advance in hopes of securing a time to come over and celebrate my mothers life with my family as a family. I felt particularly stung this mother's day when they celebrated and didn't text or call to invite me over. I live in the same small town so it's easy to hop over. I literally live three blocks away.
Anyway, my mother was diagnosed with cancer over christmas this year and I have been worrying for my mother ever since and thinking about my life with her and the mortal coil and the finite mount of time I may have with her. I feel like there is a large empty part in my heart that wishes my mother and I could go grab a coffee together. She can show me her ipad app art that she has been really excited about for a couple years now. She loves showing off her digital art and I love seeing her joy and how proud she is about her art. I just don't know why she couldn't feel the same for me, her only son. Maybe I'm just a her dissapointment.
I dropped out of highschool and left the family home when I was 16. I just couldn't work for my dad during the night AND go to highschool AND socialize. Something had to give. Unfortunately it was highschool and my parents didn't really care about that at all. They were just... fine with it. they supported my sister through college and she was fortunately able to graduate with a veterinary degree of sorts. she still lives with them now as she pays off her student debt, but I left and travelled and worked on music for over a decade so I admit that I was entirely out of the family picture for some time. But as I get older, not wanting to repeat the mistakes of my parents I fear that that is precisely what's been creeping up in my life.
five years ago I met the absolute most wonderful human being and I am so lucky to have my partner in my life. She and I are engaged now and set to be married. I hoped that the news would overwhelm my parents with excitement and joy. Maybe a facebook post about their son, share some family pictures or something. But they did nothing at all. I think they showed off pictures of the trip to Mexico that week instead.
I just don't really understand how I'm this unworthy of their love and unfortunately now I'm realizing that illusion that I am unworthy has infected my relationship with my fiance. I love her so much but when I can't fix everything in her life I feel like I am the failure and the guilt overhelms me so much and the guilt is such a strong motivator for me, and it usually motivates me into becoming the biggest doormat in the world. I've never worked harder for a relationship or invested this much energy. I feel she deserves it. But I don't advocate for myself. So I build up resentment. Like I clean the house constantly and work and help bail out of her bad spending habits and cover her rent without question and this and that. To be clear, she doesn't take advantage of me and that's not how I feel about it. But I do let this annoyance build up inside of me because I don't know how to communicate my feelings in a healthy way. I'm scared I'll lose the person if I speak up, or I'll be gaslit. Again, that's not my partner that gaslights. That's just generally how I feel I'll be treated if I open up with people. It all goes back to my childhood. It's affected every friendship and work relationship I've had since.
When I was 20-ish, 15 years years ago I did the classic, "seek the relationship that most comfortably fits into the patterns you experienced with your parents". And so I trapped myself in a horrific and extremely damaging relationship with a girl I'll call K. She has undiagnosed bipolaBPD, she would never seek help but self-medicate. She ended up in the hospital maybe four times for self-harming and this where she was considered to have these diseases by a few doctors on different occasions. Anway, it turned into a relationship of abuse and it wasn't exactly new territory for me. I was ashamed in that 8 year relationship. I wanted out so bad, but she would threaten to unalive everytime I tried to get away. Of course, some weeks would go by and i would get my hair pulled out of my scalp, a knife waving in the air in front of my face, spat in the face, kicked, punched, bit, a pot of freshly boiled ramen soup thrown in my face and eyes. What's worse is that I seeked police intervention on multiple occasions. Every single time the police visited, they talked me out of pressing charges, asking me " well if she doesn't have any place to go, then do you have a place you can stay at, or the shelter?". twice they talked me out of a restraining order, that legal proceedings would take forever. Adn de-escalting me from wanting to take measures to ensure my safety because she may end up on the street as a result. To this day, I absolutely wish I advocated for myself here and pushed for a restraining order. I'm so mad at myself for not doing so.
Unfortunately, fast forward a couple years into that relationship and one evening everything would finally hit the fan. I told her to never touch me again and I absolutely meant it. she had just yanked out the largest chunk of my hair to date, to the point where my scalp was bleeding and I could even see epidermal matter still attached to the folicle ends that were in her clenched fingers. My head bled a bit and I pushed her off of me. Telling her that I needed to leave, that I was walking to my secure jam space just a 10 minute walk away. It had a leather couch in a cold concrete basement, but hey at least I would be safe for the night and I could play my drums and try and blow off this anxiety and fear in a way that was safe albeit very noisy.
She hated that I wanted to leave and convinced herself I would never return. To be fair, that was the energy I had. I never wanted to see her face again and have her name on my lips after that night. So her tactic was simple, to threaten me with calling the cops and tell them that I violently pushed her. I called her bluff and said "go ahead and I will just tell them everything you've done - yet again. All I am doing is going to the space to sleep, I said, maybe play drums." She called the cops and told them she was pushed into a wall, and she felt very unsafe. Which yes, I did push her off me when she attacked me. In the past, I tried various tactics, to run away didn't work, she just always chased me down. Or sometimes I would just sit there while she was violent against me and I just "dissapeared" kind of like how I would when my dad used his coat hanger. This time, I just pushed her off of me, I was done with the relationship at that point and we both knew it. Anyway, she called the police, they arrived and when questioned I told them that I pushed her off of me in self-defence. I was drinking that night and it didn't help my case as I was arrested without question that evening and I was charged on the spot without question with domestic assault. It devasted me. I asked the police how this could happen lawfully. That she is an abuser and there is a history of this multiple times. That I've requested a restraining order. They explained that in quebec the laws are a little different and in the case domestic cases, if there is a male aggressor against a female, then the male is automatically charged to the fullest extent. I was absolutelyu devasted by this. I can't tell you the amount of fear and anger I felt in that jail cell that night.
I feel so incredibly betrayed by the justice system, keep in mind, this is law that from what I understand is only in Quebec, I was there for music at the time with an old friend whom I am no longer in contact with. I don't think the rest of the country operates under law in this way. Now I appreciate that they are vigilant about woman abuse victims, but the law shouldn't be this absurdly biased. It just doesnt feel just and fair to me. Covert abusers shouldn't be able to take advantage of the justice system in this way, but it happens.
It was an awful experience, I was homeless for a couple months afterward, not allowed to retrieve my belongings, so I lost all of my life "crap" that I had built up, years of hardwork and investment. I mention this because I realize later in life that I have intense collecting behaviour. maybe as a self-soothing behaviour. But I love building up collections of my hobby stuff as I have many and I feel they keep me regulated and it's a form of therapy for me. In any case, I lost everything when I left that whole situation. It sucks, although ultimately it's clearly best that I got out of that dreadful circumstance. I flew across the country to my hometown and to be closer to my family and old friends from highschool. It's quite a small town mind you.
Unfortunately, my classic tendency to hide and not advocate for myself created an opportunity for my abusive ex. A year following those events, despite me assuring her that I had to block her because I flew away to start a new life provinces away. That I wished her the best. That I even promised I would never tell a soul what she did to me. Not to mention that unfortunately we live in a society where nobody really has an ounce of sympathy for a male abuse victim. I had every intention to keep that promise, but she couldn't trust me ultimately. I think her logic was maybe to just beat her ex to "the punch". Kill or be killed or something like that. I don't live my life like that so I don't really know what her plan was. But she made a bunch of posts on various social media platforms for all of our mutual friends, music friends, coworkers etc. that the relationship was over and she was free. That she got out of a cycle of abuse and she was ready to start a new chapter of her life. She never used my name, just that she was glad she got away from her toxic and abusive ex once and for all.
It was exactly like that night a year prior, she threatened me with this outcome she could design for me, and I called her on her bluff by saying I was still going to block her and I can't control what she does with her life or how she conducts herself, but that I was out and to never contact me ever again. She made me regret that decision.
The posts she made that day got so many likes and support from so many of our mutual friends, even musician mates that were closer to me than her, and it absolutely destroyed me, not just internally but socially. I no longer make music anymore and it hurts to go outside into the world because it feels like everybody sees me as this monster. And still I don't have a voice to inform anyone otherwise - except my family and my fiance. I have no friends anymore. They all left my life with the belief that I did all of these horrible and awful things.
I just don't trust people anymore as a result and it's just caused me to become extremely bitter and depressed. I ruminate on the past, maybe in attempts to fix the past so I can move on. So I could do better, so I don't have to punish myself for my mistakes in the past. But it just reopens every emotional wound I have and they never get a chance to heal. That was maybe 7 years ago now and I'm still replaying these events in my head every single morning for about 1 - 2 hrs. Then I go completely numb for the majority of the rest of the day, shallow breathing, and the mildest sadness that mascarades as fatigue and disinterest.
There are some days where I seriously fear for the future and I just feel like every cruel soul will inherit this earth and that's the future, they built this world of suffering and they deserve to inherit it. Their toxic flag staked so deep into the earth in reclamation. The future isn't holding any seats for people like us. I'm so heartbroken and defeated. I feel like white-wolfing my fiance because she deserves better than this traumatized person that hides from the world. I feel like giving her my collection of collections so she can sell it all off and pay off her 10k of credit debt, then with this act of kindness I can go out not feeling like a guilt-ridden defeated loser. And leave on a high note.
When I'm alone, I get trapped in these ruminating cycles and it's the angriest I ever get. It's reached the point where I feel like I am actually reliving all this past trauma every morning and I can't do it anymore. I just feel like I am so at the end of whatever this ride was.
I don't have any friends anymore and everyone but my fiance thinks I am a monster and it's just unbearable.
I just don't even know. I am even afraid that someone will read this post and suss through all of this and make the connection. Then I'll get another new email or random throwaway account with an insta message that says "I told you you would never be able to get over me. You can move on, but you will never be able to erase the past. Never truly. You know where to find me."
It's haunting and it's poisonous. I just feel haunted and poisoned and I don't know if there is a snake oil potent enough or antitode true enough to get me back to the generous, lighthearted, energetic kid I once was.
To whoever was willing to read through all of this, thank you for hearing me out. I don't know what advice I am even asking for here. I'm hoping just speaking this out into the world in some way can alleviate this misery. I don't know.

Reading and reflecting, I understand that I'm coming under the definition of a "nice guy". I can feel myself being the weakest among my roommates, even though we're in the same program of grad school. I'm always looking up to someone - I constantly see other people as better than me. Smarter than me. Stronger than me. More experienced than me (dating, relationships, academics, work, health, you name it). I'm glad that I'm - well - me with the world and life I've been brought into and the circumstances. I worked hard through college to get into grad school. I'm grateful for the things that have been given to me.
But lately I keep wishing to acquire parts of other people. I want to be respected like that guy. I want to be knowledgeable and well read like that guy. I want to be desired by girls like that guy is. And yet - can I ever?
After my breakup four years ago, I took the time in college to work on my fitness, health, and academics (probably could have done a better job with the last one). And after moving to grad school, I have learned some things I never would have living with my parents. I can cook now, I work part-time while doing a full-time graduate degree.
But again, it's nothing compared to the people around me. I don't feel like and have never felt like an equal. Today was a perfect example.
I matched with a girl last week, we exchanged numbers, and even set a date for today but I got ghosted shortly on Friday (I'm very sure of this). I'm not thinking too much about why she ghosted me. And today, my roommate had a date with that same girl. He didn't even swipe - she liked his Hinge profile upfront. Of course my roommate didn't know, but it was clear what it meant to me, and why he wasn't bothered by the fact that I had matched with her and had a date planned too.
What's worse is that I kept apologizing for mentioning that I matched with the same girl - that my first thought was "Did I say something wrong?".
I take more time than these people on projects and assignments. They do way cooler things than I do. I got an internship at a leading company in the US, but I still feel beneath them. I still feel I'm a joke to these guys. I'm not respected, am I?
I can't think of anything that can make things different - I'm roped into watching movies and plans with a guest who they invite every weekend night for dinner and a movie. I can cook for everyone, but even then I can't help but do the dishes even though the rule is that one person cooks and another person cleans. I don't have control. If there's any hint I do, it's my fault for not stepping up. Even if I do step who who will take me seriously?
Even this is an example of being a textbook nice guy - I'm claiming to be a victim here, aren't I? The only solution I can htink of for things being different is if I could live alone. If I had complete independence over my time and what I want to do. If I din't have to answer to any roommate or anyone. I imagined with a Master's I could acquire deep knowledge, spend time actually learning this subject I'm passionate about but I'm barely getting by. Life, this social life gets in the way from living with these people. If I'm not agreeing I'll be disliked and life will be uncomfortable. Not that I'm in the position to move out anytime soon - I often rely on help from the more experienced roommates to figure out problems I get stuck on with assignments.
It's all on me. It's up to me to make a change. But I feel like I can't. I feel helpless and guilty and angry. I can't imagine any empathy to this post, but if there's any chance or hope you can sense from what I shared... Please help by commenting. Anything helps. I don't know where to turn to right now - what time I can afford, who to tell.

Reading and reflecting, I understand that I'm coming under the definition of a "nice guy". I can feel myself being the weakest among my roommates, even though we're in the same program of grad school. I'm always looking up to someone - I constantly see other people as better than me. Smarter than me. Stronger than me. More experienced than me (dating, relationships, academics, work, health, you name it). I'm glad that I'm - well - me with the world and life I've been brought into and the circumstances. I worked hard through college to get into grad school. I'm grateful for the things that have been given to me.
But lately I keep wishing to acquire parts of other people. I want to be respected like that guy. I want to be knowledgeable and well read like that guy. I want to be desired by girls like that guy is. And yet - can I ever?
After my breakup four years ago, I took the time in college to work on my fitness, health, and academics (probably could have done a better job with the last one). And after moving to grad school, I have learned some things I never would have living with my parents. I can cook now, I work part-time while doing a full-time graduate degree.
But again, it's nothing compared to the people around me. I don't feel like and have never felt like an equal. Today was a perfect example.
I matched with a girl last week, we exchanged numbers, and even set a date for today but I got ghosted shortly on Friday (I'm very sure of this). I'm not thinking too much about why she ghosted me. And today, my roommate had a date with that same girl. He didn't even swipe - she liked his Hinge profile upfront. Of course my roommate didn't know, but it was clear what it meant to me, and why he wasn't bothered by the fact that I had matched with her and had a date planned too.
What's worse is that I kept apologizing for mentioning that I matched with the same girl - that my first thought was "Did I say something wrong?".
I take more time than these people on projects and assignments. They do way cooler things than I do. I got an internship at a leading company in the US, but I still feel beneath them. I still feel I'm a joke to these guys. I'm not respected, am I?
I can't think of anything that can make things different - I'm roped into watching movies and plans with a guest who they invite every weekend night for dinner and a movie. I can cook for everyone, but even then I can't help but do the dishes even though the rule is that one person cooks and another person cleans. I don't have control. If there's any hint I do, it's my fault for not stepping up. Even if I do step who who will take me seriously?
Even this is an example of being a textbook nice guy - I'm claiming to be a victim here, aren't I? The only solution I can htink of for things being different is if I could live alone. If I had complete independence over my time and what I want to do. If I din't have to answer to any roommate or anyone. I imagined with a Master's I could acquire deep knowledge, spend time actually learning this subject I'm passionate about but I'm barely getting by. Life, this social life gets in the way from living with these people. If I'm not agreeing I'll be disliked and life will be uncomfortable. Not that I'm in the position to move out anytime soon - I often rely on help from the more experienced roommates to figure out problems I get stuck on with assignments.
It's all on me. It's up to me to make a change. But I feel like I can't. I feel helpless and guilty and angry. I can't imagine any empathy to this post, but if there's any chance or hope you can sense from what I shared... Please help by commenting. Anything helps. I don't know where to turn to right now - what time I can afford, who to tell.

Reading and reflecting, I understand that I'm coming under the definition of a "nice guy". I can feel myself being the weakest among my roommates, even though we're in the same program of grad school. I'm always looking up to someone - I constantly see other people as better than me. Smarter than me. Stronger than me. More experienced than me (dating, relationships, academics, work, health, you name it). I'm glad that I'm - well - me with the world and life I've been brought into and the circumstances. I worked hard through college to get into grad school. I'm grateful for the things that have been given to me.
But lately I keep wishing to acquire parts of other people. I want to be respected like that guy. I want to be knowledgeable and well read like that guy. I want to be desired by girls like that guy is. And yet - can I ever?
After my breakup four years ago, I took the time in college to work on my fitness, health, and academics (probably could have done a better job with the last one). And after moving to grad school, I have learned some things I never would have living with my parents. I can cook now, I work part-time while doing a full-time graduate degree.
But again, it's nothing compared to the people around me. I don't feel like and have never felt like an equal. Today was a perfect example.
I matched with a girl last week, we exchanged numbers, and even set a date for today but I got ghosted shortly on Friday (I'm very sure of this). I'm not thinking too much about why she ghosted me. And today, my roommate had a date with that same girl. He didn't even swipe - she liked his Hinge profile upfront. Of course my roommate didn't know, but it was clear what it meant to me, and why he wasn't bothered by the fact that I had matched with her and had a date planned too.
What's worse is that I kept apologizing for mentioning that I matched with the same girl - that my first thought was "Did I say something wrong?".
I take more time than these people on projects and assignments. They do way cooler things than I do. I got an internship at a leading company in the US, but I still feel beneath them. I still feel I'm a joke to these guys. I'm not respected, am I?
I can't think of anything that can make things different - I'm roped into watching movies and plans with a guest who they invite every weekend night for dinner and a movie. I can cook for everyone, but even then I can't help but do the dishes even though the rule is that one person cooks and another person cleans. I don't have control. If there's any hint I do, it's my fault for not stepping up. Even if I do step who who will take me seriously?
Even this is an example of being a textbook nice guy - I'm claiming to be a victim here, aren't I? The only solution I can htink of for things being different is if I could live alone. If I had complete independence over my time and what I want to do. If I din't have to answer to any roommate or anyone. I imagined with a Master's I could acquire deep knowledge, spend time actually learning this subject I'm passionate about but I'm barely getting by. Life, this social life gets in the way from living with these people. If I'm not agreeing I'll be disliked and life will be uncomfortable. Not that I'm in the position to move out anytime soon - I often rely on help from the more experienced roommates to figure out problems I get stuck on with assignments.
It's all on me. It's up to me to make a change. But I feel like I can't. I feel helpless and guilty and angry. I can't imagine any empathy to this post, but if there's any chance or hope you can sense from what I shared... Please help by commenting. Anything helps. I don't know where to turn to right now - what time I can afford, who to tell.

I have already posted on here somewhere about how I and my current bf are looking to hopefully get married sometime in the not too distant future. He is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I could not be happier.
This is about my first boyfriend, let's call him Dick.
I was 24 and he was 19. We met while I was working on a college campus at a Burrito Bowl. Well, actually, that's not strictly true. Although I did not attend that particular college, I was often involved in a religious organization that met on that college campus-in addition to working there. We met when I joined the Discord server for that religious organization, and offered to bring dinner to meet new people. He was the only person to take me up on my offer, and so on a storming night in the middle of a week in October, I rolled up to the campus meeting center with a wagon full of:
-a pot of soup
-tortilla chips
-seasoned bread
-butter
-shredded cheese
-sour cream
-fork, knives, spoons, glasses, and folded cloth napkins
Yes, I basically brought an absolute stranger a full meal. For free. On a college campus. In a wagon.
We hit it off and became really fast friends. Really fast friends. Fast forward to end of April the following year. He and I were hanging out together because he wasn't going to be coming back to that college the following semester. He had lost his scholarship because of bad grades. The night before he was supposed to leave, I took him to one of my favorite restaurants as a farewell treat. It was going to be two years before I could see him again. After I dropped him back off at his dorm, I went to run a few errands of my own. Meanwhile, he is texting me that he hasn't packed anything and he doesn't know where to start. I offered to come help, and he said please.
I was at the store while he was texting me, so I bought for myself a 1.25L bottle of coke, and some chocolate. I got THE text as soon as I had finished checking out: "Hey when you get here, I'd like to talk to you about something that's been on my mind."
I pull up to the dorm and go up to his room, plop myself onto the couch. He left to go get something out of his car that he had forgotten. When he came back, he nervously sat down on the arm of another chair in the room, and proceeded to drink MY coke and chowed down on MY chocolate, while rambling on about how he thought I was super sweet and that he really like me and that he hadn't intended to come back, but now, it was his entire goal to come back one day for me. He didn't ask me right then to be his gf, but said he wanted time to think about it, but would I also think about what my answer would be?
I said I would, and proceeded to get his entire dorm room cleaned and packed by 9 am the next morning. A week later, he asked me to be his girlfriend. I said yes and we were incredibly happy--for three weeks.
At the end of three weeks, we were talking while he was traveling to and from work, but there just wasn't anything there anymore. He started ("inadvertently") giving me lists of people, animals I would have to please and things I would have to do in order to be his gf. He didn't want to talk to me anymore, I never knew if he would call me or not, or if he would just randomly hang up on me in the middle of a call. He would constantly rather play video games or listen to music than talk to me. I was becoming more and more discouraged and feeling very boxed in. Also, I never received any gifts, flowers or presents from him our entire relationship. I know it is kind of hard to do long distance, but I managed to send TWO packages to him containing meaningful gifts. Side note for those interested: my current bf either sends me flowers/gifts via DoorDash, Instacart, etc., or has me go out and buy what I like and then refunds me the money. I love this so much.
I went away to go volunteer at another religious organization. Right before I left, I bought a plane ticket to go visit him for my birthday week. Everything was arranged. During the camp, we broke up. Here's how.
He knew that he was my first ever for everything. First bf, first serious relationship, first KISS. He played that, and played it hard. He knew that I had boundaries and that I would stick to them, even if I was embarrassed or thought it would hurt him. I was not going to budge on what I thought was right. He told me that his plan was basically to kiss me the minute I stepped off the plane to see if there was any "spark" there. Idk what would have happened if he didn't find the "spark". When I hinted that I might not be comfortable with that, he asked me why, and I said it was the way I was raised. He got upset, told me that he was starting to hate my parents and said that this was the way things were going to go. I hung up with him, called my mom and told her everything. I got her to begrudgingly allow me that if Dick wanted to kiss, I could. That is all I wanted, sex wasn't even on the menu.
At this point, I am mad at Dick. So I called him back and ranted off on him about how I felt about the entire thing, but mentioned that I had "permission" from my mother to kiss him IF I chose. He didn't let it go, but got his mother involved. We argued back and forth for two days. Finally, two days before camp ended, he texted me, asking if we could have an honest conversation. The basics of what he said, over TEXT:
"I love you, and when I say it I do mean it, but I mean it more in the way that you would tell your sister."
I was so distraught and stressed out that I couldn't think of anything else to do other than pray. Over the period of an hour, I literally typed out my heart and feelings to the God I thought I believed in, to Dick. At the end of it, Dick's entire response? "Don't you know that would've been better said to the Big Man Upstairs?"
I ended things immediately.
We tried to remain friends (at first this was mutual agreement, and then entirely his idea) but it didn't work out well at all. All I can say is that Karma is an absolute bitch, and in this matter I am 100% on her side. Hell, I would've even given her the weaponry needed to screw Dick over, even without her asking.
A few months go by and he ends up getting into another relationship. The gf doesn't know me, but tells him that he needs to block me or else. So he does, I end up having to leave the Discord server for the religious group, and I lost contact with most of my support group because of this. I should mention here that these were MY friends, not his. He wasn't even from the same state as I was. I found out from my best friend that just a few short weeks later, Dick went into the server and posted a prayer request about how his gf was missing. Later, he posted another, and even later posted a third. My best friend rang my phone off the hook that night trying to get in touch with me.
Apparently, Dick's gf was incredibly mentally unstable. She had threatened to go end her life, and disappeared. Nobody knew where she was. Dick eventually called the cops, and when they found her, she GASLIT him saying that he was so untrusting, was just the worst, he made her feel that way, all the jazz. They broke it off and I believe she may have been institutionalized for a little bit.
So yeah. I think I'm way happier now, just sayin. :)

Helena - Courtlady of Lannisport

Part 1

Reddit Account: SunstriderAlar
Discord Tag: u/SunstriderAlar
Name and House: Helena
Age: 22
Cultural Group: Westerman
Appearance: Helena is a young woman with soft doe-eyes, and unmistakable curling, golden hair. Raised by smallfolk, and Septa’s she wears her hair up and away from her face to ensure she does not let it get wet while cleaning or in her mouth while singing. She has delicate, porcelain, pale skin and cloudy soft blue eyes. No taller than 5’5” and is most often dressed in conservative simple fashions gathered by herself, or more elegant options gifted to her by a doting patron for formal events. Never shy to present her opinion, Helena has seen the world change, and her place in it numerous times. She is unafraid to do what she must, but knows the role of a woman.
Helena prefers to wear blue and yellow, the colours of Lord Swyft’s old sigil even though she has not lived in Cornfield for many years, and has no personal attachment to the house. Her real love though is unique broaches, and hairpins, different pins reveal different favours or stylings for different lords. She does enjoy crafting dresses as well, when the rare bolt of fabric comes her way she enjoys sewing and tailoring. She is often seen carrying a unique wooden six stringed lyre, or a three stringed lute; the former the cause for her name the Six Eyed Singer. She daps herself with lavender water most mornings, and cleans her teeth with mint, and rose now that she is employed by the Lannisters of Lannisport. Clean teeth are the hallmark of a charming, easy smile to make hearts of men and women alike flutter.
Trait: Elusive Shadow
Skill(s): Espionage, Devious, Schemer, Covert, Rumourmonger
Talent(s): Storyteller, lyre playing, deft fingers
Negative Trait(s): N/A
Starting Title(s): The Six-Eyed Singer, Septa Morgan, Jinny of Aegon’s Rest
Starting Location: Opening event

Part 2: Biography

Swyft Sept (3AC - 15AC)
Helena’s early life began in the Sept of Cornfield where her mother begged the Septa’s to take her. Dutifully, though reluctantly, they agreed, for what else were they to do, and where else was the girl to go. To the Governess of Cornfield, under the sanctity of the confessional, the woman, aching from the pain of birth and shame, confessed that the little girl was the bastard of Lord Swyft. The Governess, doubtful but knowing the man was not without vice, kept the secret to herself and allowed the girl to remain. The woman, who’s name was never revealed even to the Septa's, fled into the night shortly after never to be seen again. Helena was then, as promised, raised by the septas and the Governess of House Swyft. She learns basic literacy from the Seven Pointed Star with the Sisters and numbers from the Governess. Alongside her studies, she was put to work on chores like maid work, baking, cooking, cleaning, and serving Lord Swyft.
In 11AC, a travelling minstrel named The Lying Lyre arrived at Cornfield. A dashing young man with a shock of blonde curls that tumbled down his back like a mullet captivated Helena with his songs of far-off lands and noble families. In particular he sang of the Maiden’s Bay Tourney, the feats of House Targaryen, and after some time the Field of Fire and the failings of House Lannister. House Swyft was wealthy, and the Liar’s talents earned him much and more coin from the silver mines.
Helena of an age where curiosity ruled a child’s mind was enamoured with the man and his songs. She took up practising the lyre with him, and discovered that while no maestro, she had deft fingers and a mind for lyrics. Impressed by her interest and talent, the Liar gifted her a lyre before he left for future profits in far off lands. Some years of practice though, and a natural storyteller and rumourmonger Helena combined tales of the Seven Pointed Star and was invited to sing in the sept and even twice for Lord Swyft.
Six Eyed Singer (15AC - 20AC)
It was not to last though and following the slaughter in the Kingswood, the line of House Swyft was extinguished. Not wanting to test the new residents of Cornfield, the Warriors Sons and Poor Fellows, after all, all men have vice, she left Cornfield, and took to singing on the road. Going under the name Lyrebird, Helena played and sang for her coin and lodgings, a young girl protected only by being seen when she wanted and an elusive shadow when she did not.
Times on the road were not easy and The Lyrebird drew much attention. This necessitated the need for another alter ego and after a year on the road and towns and villages through the West were soon visited by the travelling Septa Morgan. The Septa heard confessions and sins, gave forgiveness and offered small advice to the poor and needy. She spared coins where she could and allowed Helena to remain covert. It did not matter to most that she was no real septa, she wore the robes, knew the words, and offered as a good moral compass to children. For most in the far flung reaches of the West she was enough.
Being raised in the faith though telling a perpetual lie about being a sister of the cloth was a little too much to bear for Helena. After a year with the reputation of Septa Morgan growing through the small folks of small villages, the Septa soon faded away. Instead Jinny of Aegon’s Rest started coming to smaller castles; Turnbury, Redbramble, Parren Hall, Oldstars and the like. She took on odd jobs cleaning, cooking, teaching a daughter to read or a son to do his numbers. She was after all no threat, knew her letters and numbers herself, and was capable of scheming many a septa or fatherly gatesman to let her in.
Jinny of Aegon’s Rest became a traveller through the keeps of the Westerlands. She heard the tales from children and small folk alike. She had never meant to undertake espionage, but her place inside various courts across the land, and her talent for being in the right place at the right time meant she was an unfortunate witness to many a courtly intrigue. As her small gifts earned her again a broad reputation she would be traded between greater lords. Soon she was playing for the elite, and earning the rewards that came with it. Helena of Cornfield once again took a new name, the Six Eyed Singer, which she quickly used to escape her courtly life and take again to the road as a travelling minstrel.
The Strawberry Tourney and Ball (20AC - Current)
The Six Eyed Singer formed a little bard troupe, nothing extravagant, she wasn’t playing for the Lannisters or the Targaryen’s yet, but enough to provide several shows across the Westerlands, Reach, and former Kingdom of the Trident. Her troupe, much like she had been accidentally, was devious, and while she or they sang, pockets were pinched, and many houses were looted. Her troupe when apart played for all the minor and middle nobles of the Trident and of the Reach too now. She and they were as much a part of the debauchery of the West as any of the wealthy merchants. There was no party too scandalous, no whorehouse unsung, no court too far flung for the right price and the West had gold burning through pockets.
The Six Eyed Singer was not the only bard with a troupe though and soon through the Kingdoms after Aegon’s conquest artisans, bards, and mummers alike filled the world with talent. In 20AC the Songbird made its mark, and with a little bit of fun, a lot of resentment for nobility, and an ingrained childlike sense of chaos, the first of the Songbirds’ letters sang. The voice of the little people flooded across the western coast of the Iron Throne. Lord Belaerys’ dragon had eaten several children whilst growing fat and hungry. Lancel Lannister had claimed the maidenhood of his chambermaid, and sired a bastard all at the age of just fifteen. Lord Frey schemed against his overlord for a free and independent Trident once again. Was all of it true? Impossible to say, but there were enough truths to turn heads, and the songs of the Songbird began to cause chaos in the Westerlands most of all. The Six Eyed Singer and her troupe played through it all, they were bards, but the Songbird was the most famous one of all; not their little merry band.
The Six Eyed Singer though continued her good work, and with her reputation came an invite to participate at the Strawberry Tourney and Ball alongside the other bardic troupes of the West and Reach. She was not so famous as to be alone, merely enough to earn an invite, and a paid job. The planning was years long, and with new songs and tunes came new rumours. While the Six-Eyed Singer played songs such as Fleece-eye, Dornish Sour Grapes, and Lion of the West, the Songbird worked their chaos.
A ripple pulsed through the tourney, first a cheater in the joust was revealed, Ser Byron who was disqualified as a result. Then a second cheater, this time in the melee, then a third cheater again in the joust Lord Payne had accepted a bribe from Lord Reyne to fall early. Cheating in the tourney was just the start, cheating in the bedroom of the ball was the main affair. Here the Songbird revealed three affairs; Lords Serret and Lyden were both fathers to children on women , not their wives. While Lady Serret and Lady Ruskin were bedfriends behind their husbands’ backs. There was one final scandal though, which was revealed to all at the tourney. Septon Karron was no true anointed Septon, and worse there was legitimacy to foulness surrounding young boys who served him.
The chaos broke over the tourney and all the artisans in attendance were forced to flee. Yet, all was not lost, for Lord Gerold Lannister of Lannisport had taken his eye to Helena and her playing. He offered her a job, for he wished to be a great sponsor of art in the new Seven Kingdoms. So it was she came to a courtly position, advising the Lord Lannister on matters of fine art, musicians, mummery, and all manner of artisanal dealings.
Timeline
3AC - Helena is born in the Sept of Cornfield, her mother a woman from Silverhill who begs the septa’s to take the girl in. She reveals her identity to the Governess of House Swyft, and claims the child is Lord Swyft’s bastard. She leaves shortly after giving birth and recovering.
4-10AC - She is raised in the cloister with the sisters, her Septa mothers raising her lessons on reading from the Seven Pointed Star, and numbers from the Governess to ensure that she can do basic arithmetic. She takes basic lessons in scullery maid work, baking, and general service work for old Lord Swyft.
11AC - A travelling minstrel, The Lying Lyre, comes through Cornfield to sing songs of the tourney of Maiden’s Bay, House Targaryen, and the Field of Fire. He takes a liking to the young Helena, and gifts her a lyre. He stays in Cornfield for some time, both because it is lucrative and because he enjoys teaching the young girl.
12-14AC - The Lying Lyre departs Cornfield but leaves a talented and hardworking Helena with the sisters once more. She takes to singing sections of the Seven Pointed Star, and even performs for Lord Swyft a few times.
15AC - The House of Swyft dies out and Helena, unaware of her claimed parentage but with a talent for song leaves the cloister and takes to the road, not trusting the new Warriors Sons or Poor Fellows. She uses the name Lyrebird and sings and plays her lyre for coin to survive.
16AC - After a year on the road Helena takes up the name Septa Morgan and takes to hearing confessions of the poor and needy across the Westerlands. Many of them need guidance and wearing her septa robes she is the perfect person to hear them. She is no real Septa but no amount of explaining the technicality of that stops people asking her to forgive them.
17AC - Her reputation as Septa Morgan grows a little too heavy on her shoulders, and Helena takes to wearing more common clothes, moving from keep to keep and working as a barmaid, scullery girl, and baker amongst other professions. She goes by the name Jinny of Aegon’s Rest.
18AC - Chance takes its favour on her, and Helena with her simple lyre is invited to play at a feast in Lannisport. Dressed now as a travelling minstrel she performs for the gathered nobles and earns herself invitations to other keeps. With her generous benefactors she hires a small troupe to perform her songs across the West.
19AC - Travelling the Westerlands, Helena under the moniker The Six Eyed Singer, takes her talents for being present at feasts and gatherings of all sorts.
20AC - Rumour of The Songbird takes hold, and the West is awash in the voice of the little people.
21AC - The Strawberry Tourney and Ball unfolds and Helena’s skills earn her favour with Lord Gerold Lannister.
22AC - Lord Gerold Lannister recognising her many talents picked her up to be one of the primary serving women in his House. His eye for artistic endeavours endeared him to her enough for a comfortable place as a favoured bard, painter, educator, and common court woman.