Might be a taboo question but what is everyone's preferred portable Gameboy emulator I've seen a few different options but I have no experience with emulators. What's one that is user friendly and is of good quality?

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(Previous Part)
(Part 001)
A few days after Neil and Hope's meeting.
Henry Cliff walks alone down the hallways of the Labyrinth. He wears a purple-colored T-REX, a status symbol put in place by the higher-ups as a sign of his newfound prestige and military ranking. Its color, as well as the other new colors among the army allow for a quick idea of the ranking of any human soldier at a glance, especially among those who don't know the humans well, such as their allies for today.
Henry's feet quietly plod against the Labyrinth's compacted dirt floor. His breathing remains even despite having walked for over thirty minutes. Thanks to his newly enhanced body, he could run for a thousand kilometers without breaking a sweat. Even he isn't entirely certain just how strong he is. Perhaps, if he were to come to blows with a Demon Emperor, he might roll them out like a sleeping bag.
As he walks, Henry's newfound clarity of purpose mixes with the voices and thoughts of ten thousand other members of Jepthath's Legion. No, more accurately, they are Henry's Legion, now. While their power might be derived from Jepthath, it was the Hero-King's decision to give Henry command of them and become his Voice.
Each person who joined on that day possessed their own thoughts, feelings, and talents. Their combined cumulative experience, which could now be tapped into at will, easily amounted to more than 350,000 years. If the age of every person who merged had been 10, that would have given them 100,000 years, but the fact the average turned out to be 35 elevated their cumulative total dramatically.
And that was to say nothing of the people who had once been a part of Jepthath's Legion in the past. When Henry first became inducted into the Legion, he was shocked by just how much wisdom Jepthath possessed. While he did not have the truly unfathomable and vast breadth of knowledge Solomon possessed, Jepthath was amazing in his own way. What he lacked in raw information, he made up in with mastery of combat.
If Solomon possessed the combined cumulative knowledge of humanity, Jepthath possessed its raw hand-to-hand fighting prowess. And that served to bolster Henry's state of mind significantly.
Just by integrating into the Legion, Henry's ability to peer into the essence of combat increased ten thousand-fold. Over the last few days, he had happened to pass by several different training grounds for humanity's soldiers on Maiura, most of them having been erected at some point by Neil Adams in the past six years. Henry was not impressed by what he saw. If anything, he was disgusted.
[Their movements are so crude. So lacking in refinement.] He would often think, while conversing with the ancient Hero-King. [I want to train them. I can't stand to imagine them using their sloppy combat skills against old demon monsters.]
[A waste of time.] Jepthath would chide gently, whenever he and Henry had this conversation. [The knowledge you have obtained effortlessly cannot be communicated through words or demonstrations. The only way one can become as proficient as the members of Our Legion is by directly transferring Our combined knowledge through Our souls and minds.]
[Then we have to convince more to join Us!] Henry would exclaim. [These fools are wasting their time flailing about, trying to reinvent the wheel. If they joined Us, they would gain all of Our power in the art of war and become capable of adding to Our collective consciousness!]
Jepthath shakes his head. [I made a deal with the Wordsmith. We will not forcibly recruit anyone. If you wish to convince more to join Us, you must demonstrate Our power. Not only do you possess knowledge of countless schools of fighting, but you also possess intimate knowledge of battlefield tactics and guerrilla warfare. By demonstrating that Knowledge is Power, you can enlighten the foolish masses as to what they are missing out on.]
Henry nodded sincerely at that time. He looked up at the night sky and clenched his fist with determination.
Humanity was wasting its capabilities! If other humans only knew how small and frail they were, they would jump at the chance to join the Legion!
Less than a week before, Henry had been a disgraced soldier, a mere civilian, a person who might never even get the opportunity to shine the boots of those he had once trained with.
But now he was an officer, an elite warrior many would come to fear and respect.
This realization made his heart leap and his throat dry. In many ways, he sometimes felt he didn't deserve this position. He certainly hadn't earned it.
Not yet. Someday he would. Someday soon.
His thoughts come back to the present. He continues walking, ultimately falling into step beside an ordinary human commando also donning a T-REX. A small artistic flourish on the side of her armor, a pink rose, hints to him the other soldier might be a woman.
The grey-armored soldier turns her head to look at him as she walks. "Oh! You startled me. And you are?"
Unable to see her face, Henry looks at her helmet instead, and her name and other information pop up in his HUD, allowing him to see her identity.
"I'm Lieutenant Henry Cliff." He says. "You're Private Ashley McCarthy? Aren't you the lady who can transform into an orc?"
Immediately, her previously formal tone turns cold. Ashley snaps her head forward, no longer looking at him.
"Every time. Every time! Is that all I am anymore? Just the ugly bitch who turns into an orc?!"
"Whoa, whoa!" Henry exclaims, taken aback by her response. "I'm sorry, uh, Miss McCarthy. I didn't mean to apologize- I mean, I didn't apologize- mean to offend you! I- I uh, sorry!"
He stumbles over his words, feeling suddenly ashamed that he spoke so bluntly without considering the other person's feelings. Then again, how could he have known it was such a sore subject for her? That thought also makes him feel unfairly slighted, as he committed a blunder without meaning to.
"No, no I'm sorry." Ashley quickly says, suddenly realizing how rudely she just spoke to a superior officer. "It's not your fault, Lieutenant. I, I just... it's a long story. I never asked for this ability. I hate it."
"You hate it?" Henry asks, as they round a corner, passing a dozen goblins who carefully press against the side-wall to avoid the giant humans. "Pardon my bluntness, but why? In this time of war, possessing an orc form must make you pretty strong. Valuable. You could be on the fast-track to a higher rank if you have any ambition."
"Higher rank." Ashley mutters under her breath. "As if that's something I'd want. I'm not some big brained Terran from Old Earth. I'm just a normal girl from one of the Wild Worlds. I only want to be pointed at an enemy so I can hurt them."
That sounds an awful lot like something an orc would say, Henry thinks, but wisely keeps to himself.
"Does turning into an orc make you stronger?" Henry asks, choosing to turn the discussion down a more positive path.
"Oh, sure. A bit stronger." Ashley concedes. "You know how the Body Booster improves a human's baseline physique, putting some of us on par with certain low-ranking Demon Lords? Well, my Orc transformation stacks on that, sort of. I can pick up and throw boulders pretty far."
She pauses, before adding, "I mean, it is really fun being that strong."
Henry reaches up to rub his chin, only for his hand to clank against his T-REX's helmet. He gives up on the idea and lowers his arm again.
"I recently got a, uh, a pretty substantial boost to my strength. You remember how Commander Hope offered for people to merge with the Hero Jepthath? I did that, and it made me a lot stronger."
He turns to look at the woman beside him, but she simply gazes forward, her helmet offering no insight into her current expression.
Her words, however, definitely give away what she's thinking.
"Oh. You're one of the cultists."
Her disappointed tone makes Henry's heart skip a beat.
"No, no, no!" Henry exclaims. "Not a cultist. Who told you that?? Jepthath's Legion have simply unified Our minds and bolstered Our bodies, making Us a lot stronger."
She remains quiet for a few moments.
"Yeah... that's... what a cultist would say."
"We're not a cult..." Henry protests feebly, but his words fall on deaf ears.
This isn't the first time someone has directed a look of disgust his way, or visibly cringed when he proudly declared himself one of Jepthath's Chosen.
Jason's words during the Great Debate made a lot of people immediately strike becoming a Parahuman off their list. They'd rather be ordinary soldiers in body armor rather than part of a weird, unified hive-mind.
Dismayed, the young man falls silent. He doesn't say anything for a full minute, and perhaps feeling bad about dismissing him so easily, Ashley decides to reignite the conversation as they draw closer to their destination.
"So what's it like. Being inside a, uh... hive mind? Is it weird?"
"We're not a hive-mind." Henry says, his mood deflating even further. "We're... we're like brothers and sisters. We understand one another. We share thoughts, insights, wisdom."
This time, Ashley tries to exercise a little tact. "It just doesn't sound right for me. I guess everyone has their own preferences. Me, I think I'd die of shame if everyone around me could hear my every thought. The embarrassment alone..."
She trails off and shakes her head.
But this time, Henry doesn't just back down.
"It's not what you think at all." Henry says. "Do you know why you feel fear at the thought of sharing your thoughts? It's because you're self-absorbed."
"What?!" Ashley exclaims, pausing her walk to look at him. No doubt, her helmet hides an expression of disbelief. "What do you mean by that... sir?"
Henry also pauses. He turns to face her, resting his hands on his hips. "You have friends, right? Maybe even a best friend?"
"O-of course!" Ashley says, her tone defensive. "What, you think I'm friendless just because I'm not a part of some bee-hive?"
"That's not what I'm getting at." Henry says patiently, holding out his hand and modulating his tone so he'll come off less aggressive. "Think about your friend, or your best friend. Really think about it. What's the most embarrassing thing you remember about him or her? What's the worst social gaffe they've made that you can't get out of your head?"
Ashley pauses. She lowers her head and falls into thought for a moment.
"I don't know. I can't think of anything. Why?"
"What about other people?" Henry asks. "Has anyone else you know made any serious social fuck-ups recently?"
"Social ones? No. There have been a few generally bad events recently, like finding out Baron Mara killed a bunch of people. But she's not my friend anyway, so..."
"THAT is my point." Henry states emphatically. "You don't think about the weird and embarrassing things your friends do. So why do you believe they're so fixated on yours?"
Ashley lifts her head to look at him. She remains silent, digesting his words, so he continues to press the issue.
"Do you know why you find things about yourself embarrassing? It's not your fault. Most people are extremely self-conscious about their own insecurities. Now that I've become a part of the Legion, I experience everyone else's insecurities all at the same time as I experience mine. In doing so, I realize that mine never amounted to anything at all. When you have ten thousand other people worrying about what they're wearing, or if they look fashionable, or some other tedious bullshit, you quickly realize that all of them amount to white noise. They don't matter."
He throws his hand up dramatically.
"I'm not picking on you. It's just a fact of human consciousness. All people are held back by their fear of social pressure, but much of that is because we don't know what goes on in the heads of our fellow men and women. If you could see their deranged sexual fantasies all at once, you would realize you're not weird at all. Everyone has a kink. If you enjoy looking at gross bugs, guess what? Someone else is unbothered by bodily fluids. We're all weird, and joining the Legion just made that clearer to me."
He pauses, unable to see the look on her face. "Sorry, I hope I'm not coming off as condescending. Does any of this make sense to you?"
Ashley slowly nods. "Mmm. Yeah, it does."
Henry heaves a sigh of relief. "Well, great! Great. I was worried I was starting to sound a little long-winded."
Ashley turns away and resumes walking. "You're definitely in a cult."
"Goddammit." Henry grumbles.
...
Before long, the two of them make it to the meeting location, where they arrive inside a massive, hollowed-out area inside the Labyrinth. There, they find, of all things, a new Volgrim Warpgate installed, its destination some unknown desert on a planet Henry can't immediately identify.
As they enter the massive arena-like staging area, Hope becomes momentarily disoriented. His newly enhanced senses pick up surges of spiritual energy, all spread out across the humans, demons, monsters, and other creatures inside. The powerful Demon Emperors, only a few of whom have yet to Ascend to Demon Deity, stand near the portal, using their strength as a show of force. Despite their proud expressions, Henry's keen senses detect a hint of fear in their eyes, as they seem to be unable to properly stand as strong as they always have. It's as if they are being suppressed by something...
"Whoa!" Ashley gasps. "I can't believe it. Why are the Volgrim here?"
"The Volgrim?" Henry asks, following her gaze based on the direction her helmet is pointed.
Somewhere in the mass of the crowd, a handful of decidedly alien-looking creatures with tentacles writing under their mouths and heavily-armored bodies stand at attention, looking like proud leaders and commanders. Their postures indicate a level of arrogance bred into their bones by millions of years of dominance over the Milky Way. Compared to the slightly fearful Demon Emperors, these Technopaths truly stand out as cream of the crop, with unknown augmentations that likely elevate their combat prowess to the peak.
"Those are Volgrim?" Henry asks. "Huh. The only one I've ever seen was that one female, the one who didn't have a mouth. She was presiding over my, uh, my tribunal..."
"Your tribunal?" Ashley asks.
She pauses, then turns to look at him strangely.
"Cliff... Henry Cliff? What the- you're that traitor! What- how even...?? You're a Lieutenant now? I didn't even recognize your name- no, forget that. Why are you in uniform? Weren't you banned basically forever from rejoining the military?"
"I was banned from rejoining the main military." Henry says, lowering his head in shame. "But, uhm, Hope's Parahumans are... different. It's a different jurisdiction."
Ashley takes a step to the side, pulling away from him. He can't see her expression, but based on her voice, she suddenly seems disgusted by him.
"All this time, I was talking to him." She mutters to herself, as she turns and walks away without another word.
Henry stands there, silently. He watches her depart, a feeling of bitterness welling up in his heart. He could pull rank on her, write her up for insubordination. Given his new status as a high-ranker, it would be easy to do.
But he doesn't.
In truth, he doesn't blame Ashley for her feelings. Because of his actions, Neil Adams was captured and humanity likely lost far more people during Stormbringer as a result. He indirectly caused the deaths of hundreds, perhaps even thousands.
How can he demand respect from her when he feels he doesn't deserve it?
As that thought wells up in Henry's mind, the thoughts of the Legion feed back into him, suppressing his negative emotions. All of them comment on his feelings and insecurities, offering kind words to help him feel better.
[You cannot and should not demand respect, no, but you can earn it back through your actions.] A 52-year-old Legionnaire says. [People like her will come around in due time. Perform admirably and make the Legion proud.]
[That woman is a mere Private.] Jepthath chimes in. [Do not allow your emotions to be tangled up by the feelings of a random soldier. You will need to bolster your Willpower if you seek to reach the peak of what you can achieve.]
[Right. My willpower.] Henry says, as his mood drastically swings back up. He hardens his heart, casting aside Ashley's comment and instead meditating for a moment to clear his mind. [Thank you, everyone, for the support.]
With his thoughts clear, Henry strides toward the front, keeping his gaze fixed on the Volgrim Technopaths. Having never seen these creatures before, he finds their horrid-looking tentacle mouths fascinating and yet creepy to look at. While all of them appear to be gender-ambiguous, certainly at first glance, as he comes closer, he does manage to make out one or two female-sounding voices among them. Or perhaps they might be higher-pitched males. He isn't entirely sure, and it seems a taboo subject to breach.
"-the Task Force will be working alongside these Technopath Envoys." Demon Emperor Yardrat says, his tone even and unbothered by the Technopaths to his left. "Naturally, full command of this operation will still go to the Archdemon, as the ranking Cosmic. However, because he will be busy dealing with the highest level threats, control of the ground forces will go to one member of each species, chosen via several votes of consensus. Today's operation is a test, and its purpose is to ensure we all work together properly. NO friendly fire. Our enemy is the Plague and nobody else. Save your personal grievances, vendettas, and petty squabbles for after we take our galaxy back from the Kolvaxians."
He gestures to the ten Technopaths. "The Volgrim have dispatched an army of 100,000 Technopath soldiers, and they will be commanded by this High Technopath named Loputo Jidelor, a high ranking commander of Clan Symmetra's ground forces."
Each of the Technopaths possesses their own combination of flesh and blood bodily parts mixed with metal limb replacements, armor-addons, and other such things. In Jidelor's case, he stands on two flesh and blood legs. However, in place of his right arm is a long, metallic limb with dozens of razor-thin threads waving to and fro where his 'wrist' ends. Each one moves independently, much like the tentacles on his left arm, but their movements appear far more precise. Dozens of metallic pieces are attached seemingly at random to his skin and skull.
Jidelor nods. "I am an experienced battlefield commander, but I am not a frontline soldier. I will be controlling our siege weaponry and directing our soldiers from the back."
Yardrat nods, then continues. "For the Demons, it goes without saying that just like with the last ten operations, Emperor Serena will be commanding our forces. Her ability to link souls together has proven instrumental in rapid battlefield communications, and her ability to sense souls allows her to keep up with the emergence of new Plagueborn until the point Diablo steals the world core back."
A beautiful demoness with sightless eyes nearby waves her hand delicately. "I will be in your care, everyone. Let us make it to the end without losing any demons this time."
"For the monsters, Fairy Princess Melia will take point." Yardrat says, nodding to another beautiful woman with green hair, fairy wings, and a look of boredom permanently etched onto her face.
Unlike the previous two commanders, Melia doesn't give a speech. In fact, she only rolls her eyes, crosses her arms, and looks away.
"Alright, and for the humans, General Chadwick will be taking charge." Yardrat concludes. He gestures to a massive Norwegian man who has now donned a Rhino T-REX variant and rests his hands around the shaft of a massive battleaxe. Its head rests on the ground, and he supports his massive armored frame by resting on the weapon's handle.
"Everyone." Chadwich says. "It is my honor to lead this mission. Naturally, Commander Neil is not happy about having to work with the demons, and I cannot imagine all of our soldiers are either. However, I pledge on Hope Hiro's honor that we will not commit any cowardly deeds of treachery, any backstabbing, or anything else of that sort! It was Hope Hiro who pushed for this arrangement because he wants humanity's soldiers to get real battle experience against the Plague. Let's be sure to make good use of this time to bury as many hatchets as we can!"
The crowd nods along to Chadwick's words. Some of the humans vocalize their approval, but many more remain silent.
The humans here are not normal civilians. They are military personnel, countless many of whom have not forgiven the demons. They may never forgive them, if their leaders are being honest.
Perhaps sensing the tenseness in the air, Yardrat briskly moves the pace along.
"In thirty minutes, we will begin. Transfer your forces to my world so that I can begin preparation to open the Intragalactic Portals. The Swarm has begun adapting to my tactics of late, so the moment those portals open, we'll need boots on the ground. No delays! If the Plague has its way, it might flood through the portals back to us, and that would be a whole bloody devil-damned mess."
The other leaders nod solemnly. They spread apart to talk to their forces, and Henry heaves a sigh.
In thirty minutes, we'll find out just how stable this alliance truly is.

A few days after Neil and Hope's meeting.
Henry Cliff walks alone down the hallways of the Labyrinth. He wears a purple-colored T-REX, a status symbol put in place by the higher-ups as a sign of his newfound prestige and military ranking. Its color, as well as the other new colors among the army allow for a quick idea of the ranking of any human soldier at a glance, especially among those who don't know the humans well, such as their allies for today.
Henry's feet quietly plod against the Labyrinth's compacted dirt floor. His breathing remains even despite having walked for over thirty minutes. Thanks to his newly enhanced body, he could run for a thousand kilometers without breaking a sweat. Even he isn't entirely certain just how strong he is. Perhaps, if he were to come to blows with a Demon Emperor, he might roll them out like a sleeping bag.
As he walks, Henry's newfound clarity of purpose mixes with the voices and thoughts of ten thousand other members of Jepthath's Legion. No, more accurately, they are Henry's Legion, now. While their power might be derived from Jepthath, it was the Hero-King's decision to give Henry command of them and become his Voice.
Each person who joined on that day possessed their own thoughts, feelings, and talents. Their combined cumulative experience, which could now be tapped into at will, easily amounted to more than 350,000 years. If the age of every person who merged had been 10, that would have given them 100,000 years, but the fact the average turned out to be 35 elevated their cumulative total dramatically.
And that was to say nothing of the people who had once been a part of Jepthath's Legion in the past. When Henry first became inducted into the Legion, he was shocked by just how much wisdom Jepthath possessed. While he did not have the truly unfathomable and vast breadth of knowledge Solomon possessed, Jepthath was amazing in his own way. What he lacked in raw information, he made up in with mastery of combat.
If Solomon possessed the combined cumulative knowledge of humanity, Jepthath possessed its raw hand-to-hand fighting prowess. And that served to bolster Henry's state of mind significantly.
Just by integrating into the Legion, Henry's ability to peer into the essence of combat increased ten thousand-fold. Over the last few days, he had happened to pass by several different training grounds for humanity's soldiers on Maiura, most of them having been erected at some point by Neil Adams in the past six years. Henry was not impressed by what he saw. If anything, he was disgusted.
[Their movements are so crude. So lacking in refinement.] He would often think, while conversing with the ancient Hero-King. [I want to train them. I can't stand to imagine them using their sloppy combat skills against old demon monsters.]
[A waste of time.] Jepthath would chide gently, whenever he and Henry had this conversation. [The knowledge you have obtained effortlessly cannot be communicated through words or demonstrations. The only way one can become as proficient as the members of Our Legion is by directly transferring Our combined knowledge through Our souls and minds.]
[Then we have to convince more to join Us!] Henry would exclaim. [These fools are wasting their time flailing about, trying to reinvent the wheel. If they joined Us, they would gain all of Our power in the art of war and become capable of adding to Our collective consciousness!]
Jepthath shakes his head. [I made a deal with the Wordsmith. We will not forcibly recruit anyone. If you wish to convince more to join Us, you must demonstrate Our power. Not only do you possess knowledge of countless schools of fighting, but you also possess intimate knowledge of battlefield tactics and guerrilla warfare. By demonstrating that Knowledge is Power, you can enlighten the foolish masses as to what they are missing out on.]
Henry nodded sincerely at that time. He looked up at the night sky and clenched his fist with determination.
Humanity was wasting its capabilities! If other humans only knew how small and frail they were, they would jump at the chance to join the Legion!
Less than a week before, Henry had been a disgraced soldier, a mere civilian, a person who might never even get the opportunity to shine the boots of those he had once trained with.
But now he was an officer, an elite warrior many would come to fear and respect.
This realization made his heart leap and his throat dry. In many ways, he sometimes felt he didn't deserve this position. He certainly hadn't earned it.
Not yet. Someday he would. Someday soon.
His thoughts come back to the present. He continues walking, ultimately falling into step beside an ordinary human commando also donning a T-REX. A small artistic flourish on the side of her armor, a pink rose, hints to him the other soldier might be a woman.
The grey-armored soldier turns her head to look at him as she walks. "Oh! You startled me. And you are?"
Unable to see her face, Henry looks at her helmet instead, and her name and other information pop up in his HUD, allowing him to see her identity.
"I'm Lieutenant Henry Cliff." He says. "You're Private Ashley McCarthy? Aren't you the lady who can transform into an orc?"
Immediately, her previously formal tone turns cold. Ashley snaps her head forward, no longer looking at him.
"Every time. Every time! Is that all I am anymore? Just the ugly bitch who turns into an orc?!"
"Whoa, whoa!" Henry exclaims, taken aback by her response. "I'm sorry, uh, Miss McCarthy. I didn't mean to apologize- I mean, I didn't apologize- mean to offend you! I- I uh, sorry!"
He stumbles over his words, feeling suddenly ashamed that he spoke so bluntly without considering the other person's feelings. Then again, how could he have known it was such a sore subject for her? That thought also makes him feel unfairly slighted, as he committed a blunder without meaning to.
"No, no I'm sorry." Ashley quickly says, suddenly realizing how rudely she just spoke to a superior officer. "It's not your fault, Lieutenant. I, I just... it's a long story. I never asked for this ability. I hate it."
"You hate it?" Henry asks, as they round a corner, passing a dozen goblins who carefully press against the side-wall to avoid the giant humans. "Pardon my bluntness, but why? In this time of war, possessing an orc form must make you pretty strong. Valuable. You could be on the fast-track to a higher rank if you have any ambition."
"Higher rank." Ashley mutters under her breath. "As if that's something I'd want. I'm not some big brained Terran from Old Earth. I'm just a normal girl from one of the Wild Worlds. I only want to be pointed at an enemy so I can hurt them."
That sounds an awful lot like something an orc would say, Henry thinks, but wisely keeps to himself.
"Does turning into an orc make you stronger?" Henry asks, choosing to turn the discussion down a more positive path.
"Oh, sure. A bit stronger." Ashley concedes. "You know how the Body Booster improves a human's baseline physique, putting some of us on par with certain low-ranking Demon Lords? Well, my Orc transformation stacks on that, sort of. I can pick up and throw boulders pretty far."
She pauses, before adding, "I mean, it is really fun being that strong."
Henry reaches up to rub his chin, only for his hand to clank against his T-REX's helmet. He gives up on the idea and lowers his arm again.
"I recently got a, uh, a pretty substantial boost to my strength. You remember how Commander Hope offered for people to merge with the Hero Jepthath? I did that, and it made me a lot stronger."
He turns to look at the woman beside him, but she simply gazes forward, her helmet offering no insight into her current expression.
Her words, however, definitely give away what she's thinking.
"Oh. You're one of the cultists."
Her disappointed tone makes Henry's heart skip a beat.
"No, no, no!" Henry exclaims. "Not a cultist. Who told you that?? Jepthath's Legion have simply unified Our minds and bolstered Our bodies, making Us a lot stronger."
She remains quiet for a few moments.
"Yeah... that's... what a cultist would say."
"We're not a cult..." Henry protests feebly, but his words fall on deaf ears.
This isn't the first time someone has directed a look of disgust his way, or visibly cringed when he proudly declared himself one of Jepthath's Chosen.
Jason's words during the Great Debate made a lot of people immediately strike becoming a Parahuman off their list. They'd rather be ordinary soldiers in body armor rather than part of a weird, unified hive-mind.
Dismayed, the young man falls silent. He doesn't say anything for a full minute, and perhaps feeling bad about dismissing him so easily, Ashley decides to reignite the conversation as they draw closer to their destination.
"So what's it like. Being inside a, uh... hive mind? Is it weird?"
"We're not a hive-mind." Henry says, his mood deflating even further. "We're... we're like brothers and sisters. We understand one another. We share thoughts, insights, wisdom."
This time, Ashley tries to exercise a little tact. "It just doesn't sound right for me. I guess everyone has their own preferences. Me, I think I'd die of shame if everyone around me could hear my every thought. The embarrassment alone..."
She trails off and shakes her head.
But this time, Henry doesn't just back down.
"It's not what you think at all." Henry says. "Do you know why you feel fear at the thought of sharing your thoughts? It's because you're self-absorbed."
"What?!" Ashley exclaims, pausing her walk to look at him. No doubt, her helmet hides an expression of disbelief. "What do you mean by that... sir?"
Henry also pauses. He turns to face her, resting his hands on his hips. "You have friends, right? Maybe even a best friend?"
"O-of course!" Ashley says, her tone defensive. "What, you think I'm friendless just because I'm not a part of some bee-hive?"
"That's not what I'm getting at." Henry says patiently, holding out his hand and modulating his tone so he'll come off less aggressive. "Think about your friend, or your best friend. Really think about it. What's the most embarrassing thing you remember about him or her? What's the worst social gaffe they've made that you can't get out of your head?"
Ashley pauses. She lowers her head and falls into thought for a moment.
"I don't know. I can't think of anything. Why?"
"What about other people?" Henry asks. "Has anyone else you know made any serious social fuck-ups recently?"
"Social ones? No. There have been a few generally bad events recently, like finding out Baron Mara killed a bunch of people. But she's not my friend anyway, so..."
"THAT is my point." Henry states emphatically. "You don't think about the weird and embarrassing things your friends do. So why do you believe they're so fixated on yours?"
Ashley lifts her head to look at him. She remains silent, digesting his words, so he continues to press the issue.
"Do you know why you find things about yourself embarrassing? It's not your fault. Most people are extremely self-conscious about their own insecurities. Now that I've become a part of the Legion, I experience everyone else's insecurities all at the same time as I experience mine. In doing so, I realize that mine never amounted to anything at all. When you have ten thousand other people worrying about what they're wearing, or if they look fashionable, or some other tedious bullshit, you quickly realize that all of them amount to white noise. They don't matter."
He throws his hand up dramatically.
"I'm not picking on you. It's just a fact of human consciousness. All people are held back by their fear of social pressure, but much of that is because we don't know what goes on in the heads of our fellow men and women. If you could see their deranged sexual fantasies all at once, you would realize you're not weird at all. Everyone has a kink. If you enjoy looking at gross bugs, guess what? Someone else is unbothered by bodily fluids. We're all weird, and joining the Legion just made that clearer to me."
He pauses, unable to see the look on her face. "Sorry, I hope I'm not coming off as condescending. Does any of this make sense to you?"
Ashley slowly nods. "Mmm. Yeah, it does."
Henry heaves a sigh of relief. "Well, great! Great. I was worried I was starting to sound a little long-winded."
Ashley turns away and resumes walking. "You're definitely in a cult."
"Goddammit." Henry grumbles.
...
Before long, the two of them make it to the meeting location, where they arrive inside a massive, hollowed-out area inside the Labyrinth. There, they find, of all things, a new Volgrim Warpgate installed, its destination some unknown desert on a planet Henry can't immediately identify.
As they enter the massive arena-like staging area, Hope becomes momentarily disoriented. His newly enhanced senses pick up surges of spiritual energy, all spread out across the humans, demons, monsters, and other creatures inside. The powerful Demon Emperors, only a few of whom have yet to Ascend to Demon Deity, stand near the portal, using their strength as a show of force. Despite their proud expressions, Henry's keen senses detect a hint of fear in their eyes, as they seem to be unable to properly stand as strong as they always have. It's as if they are being suppressed by something...
"Whoa!" Ashley gasps. "I can't believe it. Why are the Volgrim here?"
"The Volgrim?" Henry asks, following her gaze based on the direction her helmet is pointed.
Somewhere in the mass of the crowd, a handful of decidedly alien-looking creatures with tentacles writing under their mouths and heavily-armored bodies stand at attention, looking like proud leaders and commanders. Their postures indicate a level of arrogance bred into their bones by millions of years of dominance over the Milky Way. Compared to the slightly fearful Demon Emperors, these Technopaths truly stand out as cream of the crop, with unknown augmentations that likely elevate their combat prowess to the peak.
"Those are Volgrim?" Henry asks. "Huh. The only one I've ever seen was that one female, the one who didn't have a mouth. She was presiding over my, uh, my tribunal..."
"Your tribunal?" Ashley asks.
She pauses, then turns to look at him strangely.
"Cliff... Henry Cliff? What the- you're that traitor! What- how even...?? You're a Lieutenant now? I didn't even recognize your name- no, forget that. Why are you in uniform? Weren't you banned basically forever from rejoining the military?"
"I was banned from rejoining the main military." Henry says, lowering his head in shame. "But, uhm, Hope's Parahumans are... different. It's a different jurisdiction."
Ashley takes a step to the side, pulling away from him. He can't see her expression, but based on her voice, she suddenly seems disgusted by him.
"All this time, I was talking to him." She mutters to herself, as she turns and walks away without another word.
Henry stands there, silently. He watches her depart, a feeling of bitterness welling up in his heart. He could pull rank on her, write her up for insubordination. Given his new status as a high-ranker, it would be easy to do.
But he doesn't.
In truth, he doesn't blame Ashley for her feelings. Because of his actions, Neil Adams was captured and humanity likely lost far more people during Stormbringer as a result. He indirectly caused the deaths of hundreds, perhaps even thousands.
How can he demand respect from her when he feels he doesn't deserve it?
As that thought wells up in Henry's mind, the thoughts of the Legion feed back into him, suppressing his negative emotions. All of them comment on his feelings and insecurities, offering kind words to help him feel better.
[You cannot and should not demand respect, no, but you can earn it back through your actions.] A 52-year-old Legionnaire says. [People like her will come around in due time. Perform admirably and make the Legion proud.]
[That woman is a mere Private.] Jepthath chimes in. [Do not allow your emotions to be tangled up by the feelings of a random soldier. You will need to bolster your Willpower if you seek to reach the peak of what you can achieve.]
[Right. My willpower.] Henry says, as his mood drastically swings back up. He hardens his heart, casting aside Ashley's comment and instead meditating for a moment to clear his mind. [Thank you, everyone, for the support.]
With his thoughts clear, Henry strides toward the front, keeping his gaze fixed on the Volgrim Technopaths. Having never seen these creatures before, he finds their horrid-looking tentacle mouths fascinating and yet creepy to look at. While all of them appear to be gender-ambiguous, certainly at first glance, as he comes closer, he does manage to make out one or two female-sounding voices among them. Or perhaps they might be higher-pitched males. He isn't entirely sure, and it seems a taboo subject to breach.
"-the Task Force will be working alongside these Technopath Envoys." Demon Emperor Yardrat says, his tone even and unbothered by the Technopaths to his left. "Naturally, full command of this operation will still go to the Archdemon, as the ranking Cosmic. However, because he will be busy dealing with the highest level threats, control of the ground forces will go to one member of each species, chosen via several votes of consensus. Today's operation is a test, and its purpose is to ensure we all work together properly. NO friendly fire. Our enemy is the Plague and nobody else. Save your personal grievances, vendettas, and petty squabbles for after we take our galaxy back from the Kolvaxians."
He gestures to the ten Technopaths. "The Volgrim have dispatched an army of 100,000 Technopath soldiers, and they will be commanded by this High Technopath named Loputo Jidelor, a high ranking commander of Clan Symmetra's ground forces."
Each of the Technopaths possesses their own combination of flesh and blood bodily parts mixed with metal limb replacements, armor-addons, and other such things. In Jidelor's case, he stands on two flesh and blood legs. However, in place of his right arm is a long, metallic limb with dozens of razor-thin threads waving to and fro where his 'wrist' ends. Each one moves independently, much like the tentacles on his left arm, but their movements appear far more precise. Dozens of metallic pieces are attached seemingly at random to his skin and skull.
Jidelor nods. "I am an experienced battlefield commander, but I am not a frontline soldier. I will be controlling our siege weaponry and directing our soldiers from the back."
Yardrat nods, then continues. "For the Demons, it goes without saying that just like with the last ten operations, Emperor Serena will be commanding our forces. Her ability to link souls together has proven instrumental in rapid battlefield communications, and her ability to sense souls allows her to keep up with the emergence of new Plagueborn until the point Diablo steals the world core back."
A beautiful demoness with sightless eyes nearby waves her hand delicately. "I will be in your care, everyone. Let us make it to the end without losing any demons this time."
"For the monsters, Fairy Princess Melia will take point." Yardrat says, nodding to another beautiful woman with green hair, fairy wings, and a look of boredom permanently etched onto her face.
Unlike the previous two commanders, Melia doesn't give a speech. In fact, she only rolls her eyes, crosses her arms, and looks away.
"Alright, and for the humans, General Chadwick will be taking charge." Yardrat concludes. He gestures to a massive Norwegian man who has now donned a Rhino T-REX variant and rests his hands around the shaft of a massive battleaxe. Its head rests on the ground, and he supports his massive armored frame by resting on the weapon's handle.
"Everyone." Chadwich says. "It is my honor to lead this mission. Naturally, Commander Neil is not happy about having to work with the demons, and I cannot imagine all of our soldiers are either. However, I pledge on Hope Hiro's honor that we will not commit any cowardly deeds of treachery, any backstabbing, or anything else of that sort! It was Hope Hiro who pushed for this arrangement because he wants humanity's soldiers to get real battle experience against the Plague. Let's be sure to make good use of this time to bury as many hatchets as we can!"
The crowd nods along to Chadwick's words. Some of the humans vocalize their approval, but many more remain silent.
The humans here are not normal civilians. They are military personnel, countless many of whom have not forgiven the demons. They may never forgive them, if their leaders are being honest.
Perhaps sensing the tenseness in the air, Yardrat briskly moves the pace along.
"In thirty minutes, we will begin. Transfer your forces to my world so that I can begin preparation to open the Intragalactic Portals. The Swarm has begun adapting to my tactics of late, so the moment those portals open, we'll need boots on the ground. No delays! If the Plague has its way, it might flood through the portals back to us, and that would be a whole bloody devil-damned mess."
The other leaders nod solemnly. They spread apart to talk to their forces, and Henry heaves a sigh.
In thirty minutes, we'll find out just how stable this alliance truly is.

The Life Weave:

• All living creatures possess a collection of energies referred to as "the Life Weave."
• The Life Weave corresponds to three things: The size of a creature's body, their general health, and the amount of echoes of creation (mana) they have innately stored inside of themselves.
  • Adult man has more than a child which has more than a dog.
  • Someone born healthy has a larger Life Weave than someone born sickly.
  • Someone suffering from a chronic or terminal illness have suffer a reduction in the size of their Life Weave
  • A person's Life Weave gains potency with the more [echoes they have stored within themselves.
• Esharans have slightly more on average than humans.

Abilities:

• Lifeweavers have the ability to draw upon one of their senses, physical, or mental attributes so that they may boost the power of another.
• Lifeweavers can consciously maintain their life force, slowing the aging process.
• Lifeweavers can focus on and enhance their body's processes, i.e. natural healing, getting over normal sickness/hangover, passing poison, etc.
• Roughly one in every three Lifeweavers are strong enough to manipulate the weave of others, allowing them to perform healing arts.
  • Manipulating another creature's Life Weave is the one exception to the "minimal echoes" rule. The more extreme the process, the more energy is required.
  • Healing a minor scrape may require only a little bit more, but working for hours to clean and repair a severed limb may take multiple whole vials of refined echoes
  • The speed in which a wound may be healed is also relative to the formation of the subject's weave pattern. A bolstered weave will heal faster.
  • It is impossible to regrow body parts once severed, but it is possible to reattach them or to repair injured organs provided they are mostly intact.
• Lifeweavers with the ability to manipulate the weave of others can also "snip" the threads of any being and give them to another. Whether stealing from another to bolster themselves or sacrificing a piece of themselves, the effect is never temporary.
  • It is impossible to take back a thread that you have given to someone without snipping it out again, which means that snipping your own weave to give to someone else is an irreversible process.
  • This ability is considered taboo and forbidden, though it has also allowed for miracles where a Lifeweaver was able to sacrifice a piece of themselves to pull someone else back from the brink of death.

Cost:

• Manipulating your own weave costs a baseline of echoes to perform, roughly only 1/5th of a small vial of refined echoes.
• Manipulating the weave of another requires a greater baseline of echoes, roughly double the baseline for yourself. The more extreme the alteration and the more drawn out the process, the greater the requirement to sustain the process.
• Pushing oneself too hard can be dangerous and result in damage.
  • Exerting a bolstered aspect too much or too often results in it's subsequent bolstering to be less effective. They will need to divert more to that aspect to receive a similar result.
  • Prolonged absence of a pattern will begin to damage that aspect. Someone who uses their hearing too often may start to go deaf, or someone who sacrifices their physical strength to boost their mental acuity may begin to find their bodies withering away from atrophy.
• These costs are all in addition to the general cost of depleting one's own echoes without replenishing them.
• Symptoms such as increased risk of disease, mental illness, and psychosis can compound their effects when someone is without a particular corresponding thread.

Example Combinations:

• **Sacrifice Touch, Bolster Strength:** Numb the body to gain immense physical power.
• **Sacrifice Hearing, Bolster Sight:** Deafen oneself to gain superhuman vision.
• **Sacrifice Strength, Bolster Mental Acuity:** Weaken the muscles to enhance cognitive abilities.
• **Sacrifice Endurance, Bolster Reflexes:** Reduce stamina to heighten quickness in reactions.
• **Sacrifice Dexterity, Bolster Speed:** Sacrifice fine motor skills to enhance physical speed.

Individual aspects of one's mental acuity may be manipulated in order to bolster others:

• **Sacrifice Balance, Bolster Creativity:** Compromise equilibrium to unlock higher creative potential/ability to think outside the box.
• **Sacrifice Empathy, Bolster Critical thinking:** Reduce emotional sensitivity to be able to think more critically and clearly.

A person's sense of touch is far more important than their empathy, so sacrificing touch would lead to a far greater boost in their physical strength than a minor aspect of their mental acuity would. Likewise, someone could give up all of their physical strength to bolster their intelligence and critical thinking in order to become a super genius, though this would come with extreme consequences if implemented for prolonged use.

An excerpt from "[[The Great Chronicle]]," culmination of [[Proprietor Yeoz]]' life work. Published on the 1st day of the 1st month, 357 AA.

When the first form of Adon rained down from the heavens, so too came the power over living creation. Without Adon's touch, all would be lifeless and devoid of meaning. It is known that all living things have within themselves a network of energies that bestow upon them animation. The network of life-giving substances flow throughout the body and enable one to act, though for most it is not an active process. Throughout my work I shall refer to these energies as a weave, as they have been described first hand to myself, to be as a tapestry of one's life. To manipulate the weave is comparable to reknitting fabric.
For those blessed by His touch, this weave of energies is an ethereal wonder made manifest. It has been noted by many trained and untrained Inheritors that the weave is something known or felt, rather than explicitly seen. It is the opinion of some scholars, myself included, that this weave is a complex network of pathways throughout the body through which one's lifeblood is carried. A curious exception to this (and the basis of many arguments to the contrary) is that certain plants seem to poses the weave as well, despite not subsisting on the lifeblood. While the weave is unseen, it is entirely real and possesses all living and animate creatures that traverse this mortal realm. These Inheritors are commonly referred to as "Lifeweavers," though various cultures may have their own names and misguided origins for the practice.
The abilities of any such Inheritor vary from person to person and seem to be limited only by one's aptitude, imagination, and whatever threads they may know. Compared to other manifestations of Adon, the practice of manipulating the weave of life energies does not depend on the quantity of echoes called upon; The same quantity is needed regardless of task, only enough to "grasp the weave" as it is called. Once one has grasped the weave, they are limited only to the amount of material they have on hand. Just as the other manifestations, whatever echoes used in the process are released in the same manner.
One may bundle the weaves together to localize and enhance their output, allowing for supernatural feats. A particular threading of the weave may cause a single man to gain the strength of ten, or another allow one to hear even the heartbeats of a bird a hundred meters away. These boons come at a cost, however. One's body has a finite resource of weave and to reinforce one pattern is to borrow from another. Extreme exertion of the reinforced thread may cause one's being to become increasingly reliant on its elevated status while the borrowed pattern may begin to suffer atrophy. In layman's terms, not only will one's increased strength lose its potency, but too much use of a certain pattern will cause the user to begin to lose it altogether. In addition to the rethreading of patterns, the functions of the body can be altered as well in order to reduce aging or speed up the natural healing process.
Common threads that are recognized by most Lifeweavers are as follows: touch, hearing, sight, taste, smell, physical strength, speed, agility, endurance, and mental acuity. 'Mental acuity' serves as an umbrella category for the cognitive functions of one's mind including their capacity for memory, their reactiveness and clarity, their personal empathy and charisma, among others.
While considered taboo by some cultures, many Lifeweavers possess the ability to manipulate the weaves of other creatures as well. While the process is time consuming and stressful, this ability is what lead to the discovery of the healing arts. Unfortunately, complex rethreadment which could result in the restoration of hearing within the deaf or sight within the blind requires the most adept among all Lifeweavers and is an extremely rare gift.
As with many gifts, there are those who may abuse it. While they have been outlawed and declared forbidden by most civilized peoples, there are those who have been known to manipulate the weave on less than willing subjects. I will not document these processes in detail for fear of propagating the practice, but I will note the unfortunate practice of 'snipping,' wherein one may tear away the threads of another living being to temporarily boost their own. While it is fleeting, this process is the only known way to circumnavigate any personal cost associated with altering a weave.

The Life Weave:

• All living creatures possess a collection of energies referred to as "the Life Weave."
• The Life Weave corresponds to three things: The size of a creature's body, their general health, and the amount of echoes of creation (mana) they have innately stored inside of themselves.
  • Adult man has more than a child which has more than a dog.
  • Someone born healthy has a larger Life Weave than someone born sickly.
  • Someone suffering from a chronic or terminal illness have suffer a reduction in the size of their Life Weave
  • A person's Life Weave gains potency with the more [echoes they have stored within themselves.
• Esharans have slightly more on average than humans.

Abilities:

• Lifeweavers have the ability to draw upon one of their senses, physical, or mental attributes so that they may boost the power of another.
• Lifeweavers can consciously maintain their life force, slowing the aging process.
• Lifeweavers can focus on and enhance their body's processes, i.e. natural healing, getting over normal sickness/hangover, passing poison, etc.
• Roughly one in every three Lifeweavers are strong enough to manipulate the weave of others, allowing them to perform healing arts.
  • Manipulating another creature's Life Weave is the one exception to the "minimal echoes" rule. The more extreme the process, the more energy is required.
  • Healing a minor scrape may require only a little bit more, but working for hours to clean and repair a severed limb may take multiple whole vials of refined echoes
  • The speed in which a wound may be healed is also relative to the formation of the subject's weave pattern. A bolstered weave will heal faster.
  • It is impossible to regrow body parts once severed, but it is possible to reattach them or to repair injured organs provided they are mostly intact.
• Lifeweavers with the ability to manipulate the weave of others can also "snip" the threads of any being and give them to another. Whether stealing from another to bolster themselves or sacrificing a piece of themselves, the effect is never temporary.
  • It is impossible to take back a thread that you have given to someone without snipping it out again, which means that snipping your own weave to give to someone else is an irreversible process.
  • This ability is considered taboo and forbidden, though it has also allowed for miracles where a Lifeweaver was able to sacrifice a piece of themselves to pull someone else back from the brink of death.

Cost:

• Manipulating your own weave costs a baseline of echoes to perform, roughly only 1/5th of a small vial of refined echoes.
• Manipulating the weave of another requires a greater baseline of echoes, roughly double the baseline for yourself. The more extreme the alteration and the more drawn out the process, the greater the requirement to sustain the process.
• Pushing oneself too hard can be dangerous and result in damage.
  • Exerting a bolstered aspect too much or too often results in it's subsequent bolstering to be less effective. They will need to divert more to that aspect to receive a similar result.
  • Prolonged absence of a pattern will begin to damage that aspect. Someone who uses their hearing too often may start to go deaf, or someone who sacrifices their physical strength to boost their mental acuity may begin to find their bodies withering away from atrophy.
• These costs are all in addition to the general cost of depleting one's own echoes without replenishing them.
• Symptoms such as increased risk of disease, mental illness, and psychosis can compound their effects when someone is without a particular corresponding thread.

Example Combinations:

• **Sacrifice Touch, Bolster Strength:** Numb the body to gain immense physical power.
• **Sacrifice Hearing, Bolster Sight:** Deafen oneself to gain superhuman vision.
• **Sacrifice Strength, Bolster Mental Acuity:** Weaken the muscles to enhance cognitive abilities.
• **Sacrifice Endurance, Bolster Reflexes:** Reduce stamina to heighten quickness in reactions.
• **Sacrifice Dexterity, Bolster Speed:** Sacrifice fine motor skills to enhance physical speed.

Individual aspects of one's mental acuity may be manipulated in order to bolster others:

• **Sacrifice Balance, Bolster Creativity:** Compromise equilibrium to unlock higher creative potential/ability to think outside the box.
• **Sacrifice Empathy, Bolster Critical thinking:** Reduce emotional sensitivity to be able to think more critically and clearly.

A person's sense of touch is far more important than their empathy, so sacrificing touch would lead to a far greater boost in their physical strength than a minor aspect of their mental acuity would. Likewise, someone could give up all of their physical strength to bolster their intelligence and critical thinking in order to become a super genius, though this would come with extreme consequences if implemented for prolonged use.

An excerpt from "[[The Great Chronicle]]," culmination of [[Proprietor Yeoz]]' life work. Published on the 1st day of the 1st month, 357 AA.

When the first form of Adon rained down from the heavens, so too came the power over living creation. Without Adon's touch, all would be lifeless and devoid of meaning. It is known that all living things have within themselves a network of energies that bestow upon them animation. The network of life-giving substances flow throughout the body and enable one to act, though for most it is not an active process. Throughout my work I shall refer to these energies as a weave, as they have been described first hand to myself, to be as a tapestry of one's life. To manipulate the weave is comparable to reknitting fabric.
For those blessed by His touch, this weave of energies is an ethereal wonder made manifest. It has been noted by many trained and untrained Inheritors that the weave is something known or felt, rather than explicitly seen. It is the opinion of some scholars, myself included, that this weave is a complex network of pathways throughout the body through which one's lifeblood is carried. A curious exception to this (and the basis of many arguments to the contrary) is that certain plants seem to poses the weave as well, despite not subsisting on the lifeblood. While the weave is unseen, it is entirely real and possesses all living and animate creatures that traverse this mortal realm. These Inheritors are commonly referred to as "Lifeweavers," though various cultures may have their own names and misguided origins for the practice.
The abilities of any such Inheritor vary from person to person and seem to be limited only by one's aptitude, imagination, and whatever threads they may know. Compared to other manifestations of Adon, the practice of manipulating the weave of life energies does not depend on the quantity of echoes called upon; The same quantity is needed regardless of task, only enough to "grasp the weave" as it is called. Once one has grasped the weave, they are limited only to the amount of material they have on hand. Just as the other manifestations, whatever echoes used in the process are released in the same manner.
One may bundle the weaves together to localize and enhance their output, allowing for supernatural feats. A particular threading of the weave may cause a single man to gain the strength of ten, or another allow one to hear even the heartbeats of a bird a hundred meters away. These boons come at a cost, however. One's body has a finite resource of weave and to reinforce one pattern is to borrow from another. Extreme exertion of the reinforced thread may cause one's being to become increasingly reliant on its elevated status while the borrowed pattern may begin to suffer atrophy. In layman's terms, not only will one's increased strength lose its potency, but too much use of a certain pattern will cause the user to begin to lose it altogether. In addition to the rethreading of patterns, the functions of the body can be altered as well in order to reduce aging or speed up the natural healing process.
Common threads that are recognized by most Lifeweavers are as follows: touch, hearing, sight, taste, smell, physical strength, speed, agility, endurance, and mental acuity. 'Mental acuity' serves as an umbrella category for the cognitive functions of one's mind including their capacity for memory, their reactiveness and clarity, their personal empathy and charisma, among others.
While considered taboo by some cultures, many Lifeweavers possess the ability to manipulate the weaves of other creatures as well. While the process is time consuming and stressful, this ability is what lead to the discovery of the healing arts. Unfortunately, complex rethreadment which could result in the restoration of hearing within the deaf or sight within the blind requires the most adept among all Lifeweavers and is an extremely rare gift.
As with many gifts, there are those who may abuse it. While they have been outlawed and declared forbidden by most civilized peoples, there are those who have been known to manipulate the weave on less than willing subjects. I will not document these processes in detail for fear of propagating the practice, but I will note the unfortunate practice of 'snipping,' wherein one may tear away the threads of another living being to temporarily boost their own. While it is fleeting, this process is the only known way to circumnavigate any personal cost associated with altering a weave.

THROW AWAY ACCOUNT
Recently going reinvolved with a girl from my past., she's gained weight. Traditionally I've gone for smaller woman but she's is so amazing that it pushed me not to want to care Becuase I do find her attractive and beautiful.
However, the topic of her weight is only taboo for me. While I've never heard her friend/s say it she says that have called her fat,just for laughs or no point, and its okay. She can call her herself fat and its okay. Now mind you I've never called her that the closest I've gotten is overweight, and the context wasn't to insult or demean her but just to inform a intellectual conversation on the topic within our relationship. I GOT PINNED TO THE WALL.
Note we also had an early on conversation in our relationship where she asked how I felt about her weight. I said "I'm okay with it but I wouldn't complain if she lost some weight." Ever since then her line is " You made me self conscious" so she never sends me pictures of herself. I was wrong there but I once again never intended to hurt her. I was just trying to be as honest as i can becauase i dislike lies. This was a period of growth for me and In my mind it's not being heavier is a death sentence. If its something she wanted to change we could but I also I never sought to force her either.
My question how can she expect me to accept her for her but i cant even touch the subject, while everyone else around me including herself can? For instance if I called her BBW I'm sure she would hate me but is that not accepting her for who she is? I'm not being sarcastic, I really do love this woman and want to make it work but this is frustrating and I'm not sure what to do. I've tried my best to allow her own feelings because i know some personal growth on my part was necessary but Is this all my fault? Is it too late? Im not sure to to navigate and repair her trust in me.

There have been multiple articles about how in 2024, companies are going "woke no more."
A few years ago, it was not uncommon for companies to take bold, public stances on various prominent political and social issues such as Black Lives Matter, LGBTQ+ rights, abortion, embracing "stakeholder capitalism," opposing Trump's immigration ban from several Muslim countries, officially endorsing Hillary Clinton or Joe Biden in their respective elections, etc. Mainstream corporate America invested heavily in ESG and DEI initiatives.
However, with the mass tech layoffs starting in 2022, which kicked off layoffs in other industries, ESG and DEI roles have been dramatically slashed, as companies became more lean to focus on revenue generation and profit. Even workplace affinity groups have been receiving less funding for cultural events.
In the face of potential legal challenges, companies have been rethinking corporate diversity hiring, and affirmative action initiatives, moving more to a purely merit-based hiring system.
And notably, companies like Google which used to have a history of employee protesting over social issues (see here and here), had a zero tolerance policy of employees protesting the war in Gaza and Google's contracts with Israeli companies. Those protesters were swiftly and brutally fired, with Google CEO Sundar Pichai coming out saying politics is not appropriate to discuss at work. This is despite Google tolerating employee dissent in the late 2010s.
Some argue that the Israel - Hamas War also triggered an anti-woke backlash, because while BLM, trans rights, abortion, etc., have broad support among those who are socially liberal, Israel/Palestine is an issue that divides the political left. See all of the Democrats upset over Joe Biden's handling of Israel/Gaza, with some saying they won't vote for him or even calling him "Genocide Joe."
Harvard's Faculty of Arts and Sciences will no longer require diversity statements in hiring process. Job applicants will no longer have to submit diversity statements when applying to Harvard University's largest division. MIT will also stop asking faculty applicants for diversity statements.
Even in our culture more broadly, you have Big Iger, CEO of Disney, publicly coming out in early 2024 and saying he thinks over the past several years, Disney focused too much on socially progressive messaging on LGBTQ+ issues and race as opposed to creating movies and TV shows that first and foremost entertaining. He says Disney will be pivoting away from DEI in programming.
I'm finishing up my first year at HBS, and a professor I chatted with said the zeitgeist is definitely shifting, with the social landscape in corporate America being far, far different in 2024 from how it was in the late 2010s, especially after Trump was elected in 2016. Back then, it became "cool" to be outspoken on left-wing social issues (much of corporate America remained fiscally conservative).
However, over legal challenges, the divisive Israel/Hamas war, and anti-DEI backlash, corporate cultures are going back to more of the zeitgeist in the 2000s and early 2010s, where politics is a "taboo" subject, and those who speak openly about it at work will be penalized and potentially fired.
My professor said this has mirrored what he's seen in our HBS class. He said the Class of 2025 is noticeably much less politically outspoken than even the Class of 2022 or Class of 2023. Even as the Israel - Gaza war rages on and the undergrad campus was a political flashpoint for demonstrations and encampments, the business school students have largely stayed silent.
My professor said even in 2022 or 2023, before October 7, he heard more students speak up openly on both sides of Israel and Palestine, but since then, after the initial attack, both sides have said publicly quiet for the most part.
And this goes for other social issues like trans rights, abortion even, etc. People are still likely personally socially liberal and will vote Democratic in the election, but aren't shoving their opinions down others' throats.
Moreover, in the past, students used to show more interest in "social impact" type roles, such as impact investing, nonprofit consulting, DEI roles, Human Resources, sustainability, etc. Now, students by and large are focusing on mainstream capitalist make me money roles, like investment banking, consulting, tech product management (to the extent it exists), with a huge swing toward finance recruiting.
Does this track with what you are seeing? To me it's interesting, as it shows a reversion to the 2000s era culture as opposed to a continuation of the late 2010s. The 2020s are shaping up to be a VERY different cultural decade than the 2010s at this rate.

My fellow gamers, for too long has our community suffered the indignation of an intolerable culture that has denigrated, besmirched, exploited, and has outright demonized our culture of unique individuals with a genuine love of a hobby that they see as profitable and progressive. They have taken beloved IP’s (Intellectual Properties) and twisted them into their own personal ideological crusade of undermining and humiliating the core aspects of characters they deemed as “Toxic” or “White Supremacy”. Through the guise and protection of DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusivity) & ESG (Environmental, Social, and Governance) they have used our influence in the entertainment industry to push their narratives and agendas that have stigmatized our culture with numerous anti-consumer practices that they call “being progressive”. But the truth of the matter is they were never really looking to be a part of our community, they simply wanted to use our community as a tool of activism and propaganda in the entertainment industry as it was extremely profitable, and they wanted inclusion in that division. Ever since GamerGate & Female Frequency, we have had to endure the incursion of forced ideologies, xenophobic behaviors and inferior overpriced products that have never been in our best interest and have been flat out disgraceful towards foreign media.
Before Gaming had become a major source of entertainment, we were often categorized as anti-social or societies rejects where because we found more enjoyment in playing fictional characters and not spending as much time out and about, we never fully assimilated in society (which is a good thing if you ask me). From 1998 to 2007, at the height of innovation, creativity and production, Gaming had reached a golden age in which it had revolutionized society. Hollywood Execs who had ruined the movie industry turned their attention to video games as a source of income since video games had outperformed movies in terms of profit. No one was concerned about gaming, much less diversity or inclusivity until it became profitable. This makes people like SBI look extremely disingenuous as they were not interested in gamers as a community with its own culture. They simply wanted to use it as another weapon in identity politics.
Microtransactions; the hidden enemy to gamer progress and inducer to mental laziness of our community. Microtransactions have been around for a long time; however, it has never been more potent and apparent than in recent years. It has aided in the dismantling and segregation of players on the ideology of FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) and has created another sub-culture of gamers who have no real drive to be better outside of how much money they put into the game. This has degraded our culture as well as we have become “fat” off transactional gaming but at the same time we have been “starved” of purposeful gaming where our achievements were our sustenance. I am not saying that microtransactions are bad, but when they are exploitative and predatorial like they have been and don’t give gamers room to grow, we become lethargic and unwilling to improve ourselves as gamers. Oversaturated microtransactional games are one of the many reasons why we have become complacent and unwilling to fight against the exploitative tactics used by big brand game companies such EA, Ubisoft, ActivisionBlizzard, NaughtyDog and so many other western business model companies. Western style games were not like this in the past, they had much more depth and actual effort put into them with the gamer in mind. This has not been the case for over a decade and our connection to western developers has been whittled down to just being transactional. That is one of the reasons why you see so many remasters and remakes in today’s gamer community. They have lost their willingness to improve as developers of games and simply accept corporate/share holder rules.
Game journalists also do not have any real integrity or purpose outside of being funded for their involvement in promoting IPG (Identity Political Games) in a positive light to the public whether it’s positively received or not. They are not interested in what we have to say, they all support the same agenda and that is why they are a dying breed. Within the next couple of years, they will be out of the job and more than likely they will not be able to stay in the industry giving how they have responded to past articles that have clearly been scripted on the premise of diversity and racism. Not only that, but most of them are also extremely hostile to the community as they stereotype and defame the individuals that are a part of the community they are supposed to serve. We have been mentally liberated from their lies and coercive tactics as we tend to laugh at their obvious attempt at virtue signaling while hiding their misdoings so that they can play the victim.
My gamer brothers & sisters, I would not suggest the following action that we must take now without good cause. I have weighed our options and the best option for us now is this…...CULTURAL SECESSION. Naturally this is a form of segregation where they would more than likely claim they are being segregated by the dominant culture of the gaming community but that is incorrect. For years now we have been the ones who are often marginalized and ostracized for the smaller portion of our community. And when we aren’t, we’re exploited for more funds so that these companies can stay in business only to subject us to low quality products that coincide with the “WOKE Agenda” that are often huge expenses to these big brands i.e. AAA/AAAA games that will eventually flop for its obvious forced diversity and bug infested product which will undoubtedly piss off the consumer to the point of wanting a refund. Losing copious amounts of capital and stock in the process, not to mention their reputation is permanently marred.
We must separate on every cultural level in terms of entertainment and ideology. We must reject everything from the west that promotes toxic western beliefs, practices, and exclusion from other cultures (i.e. Southeastern Countries such as Japan and Korea). Japan & Korea have been the targets of unjust discrimination from Western Developers, Western Journalists, Western Localizers (The Wokelizers) and Western Society Prejudice regarding their sense of aesthetics as Westerners hate the aesthetic sense of these countries. The reason why they resort to such base tactics isn’t just because it weaponizes the ideal female form but it’s also because they have deep-seated insecurities about their own looks so when they see attractive female characters, they use terms such as “unrealistic” or “hypersexualized” to establish the moral high ground. But the truth is, they want to feel superior to that which is ideal, so they insult and dehumanize this figure that portrays natural female beauty because they see it as an insult to their own social superiority in what they believe is a hierarchy of them being at the top of all other women. Because of this and so many contributing factors, their movies flop harder than the Fat Chocobo landing on a group of enemies and their games seismically fail just as much if not more. We must sever our connection to Western Developers, Publishers, and ALL Western-Centric Entertainment for they seek to mentally enslave us to their Xenophobic ideology.
Let’s define Western Culture and its traits. Western Culture/Society is composed of more than several different ideologies that work in unison with one another to facilitate dominance over multiple aspects of society. Business, Social, Political, Technological, and sometimes even Global Affairs are affected by these ideologies that portray a specific mindset of Western beliefs. What are those ideologies you ask?

• Perpetual Victimhood: By weaponizing the fact that they are marginalized and of a small portion of western society, they can push their agenda to absurd standards that ultimately ostracize the main demographic. And when companies don’t capitulate, they are labeled as anti-progressive/misogynist’s or cohorts of White Supremacy. They use this to cancel their targets and silence them through societal defamation to keep the public on their side. They also use this mindset to justify their own lack of self-agency as they tend to throw companies who do adhere to their demands but miserably fail to turn a profit under the bus so that they can maintain face in front of the public while denying their actual involvement. They will never accept “Sense of Agency” when it’s negative but will gladly accept it when a positive outcome shines on them as if they are entitled to it.

Official Wiki GamerGate Page)
​

• Societal Terrorism: This is another form of ideology weaponization that they use in order to make companies “toe-the-line” with their agenda. By weaponizing cancel culture, they exert dominance over these companies but in exchange they also reimburse those companies with DEI & ESG funds that raise their credit score as well as having social status with the marginalized demographic. However; cancel culture has not succeeded in years and developers and publishers probably only want the money and the DEI ESG rating. But they have to maintain the image of having social economic power so that they can continue to strong-arm other developers into compliance and promoting financial benefits of DEI & ESG. In other words, if you are not for sale, they discredit and stigmatize you in the industry.

Asmongold Clips.
https://youtu.be/Iq86DnmX2xY
​

• “Its not us, its you who’s wrong” Mentality: This mentality is especially annoying as they tend to use it to hide their incompetence. They often look down upon gamers who are not in the industry to hide their obvious lack of knowledge on game development thinking that their job title grants them special status that they believe gives them the right to be condescending. But the truth they never wanted revealed has already strangled their careers of all credibility. They were never GAMERS, they were INVADERS. Community Colonists that seek to indoctrinate next generational gamers into their hive-mind and brand previous generations of gamers as villains.

@GeeksandGamers
https://youtu.be/1HbrTkqQFuM
​

• Double-standard Enforcement: By labeling something as “unrealistic” or “hypersexualized”, they can claim this is morally wrong if it promotes traditional dynamics between men and women. Heterosexual relationships are condemned while at the same time Same-sex relationships are praised. Additionally, heterosexual relationships with main white male characters turn antagonistic and spotlight stealing. This is deliberate as to promote the “Girl Boss” ideology to indoctrinate women into the Feminazi state of mind. While at the same time, should a male character also adopt the “I don’t need male/female” ideology its seen as Toxic Masculinity which isn’t even a real thing. The idea of a strong male character is taboo while enforcing strong female characters is the ideal.

@MugenLord
https://youtu.be/to5Uciy_yeg
@EndymionTv
https://youtu.be/7TPTR8-qmbk
​

• Dehumanization/Demonization: This is something that most military branches use in order to remove conscious inhibitions such as mass slaughter is wrong or categorization. By enforcing ideologies to denounce humanity in certain targets, it deactivates your conscience by saying this is not human therefore its ethically okay to treat this target without compassion and deny the fact it has sentience. We gamers fall under this category for journalists, developers, companies and society at large. This is a tactic we are familiar with to an extent as it implies that we are not normal when we do not do what everybody else is doing. “Geeks are the worse” or “Nerds need to fall into a pit of lava” are verbal dehumanization forms that most people in society say and we as Gamers tend to be relegated to those categories. This is their way of imposing the social hierarchy on us by establishing superiority. We know this as Gamers as we see it very often in the games that we play and some times experience it in real life.

https://rationalwiki.org/wiki/Gamergate#The_end_of_their_relevance
​

• Deflection/Projection: This is basic psychology 101. By redirecting the conversation away from their mistakes and back on to the opposing view to avert blame and justify their innocence they can avoid criticism. However; deflection is a CONSCIOUS decision, meaning they have no real argument to justify their incompetence. If you can consciously process the situation, you have self-agency which means you don’t have a legitimate excuse. Projection is something else entirely. Most times, Projection doesn’t work on conscious decisions rather it is automatically deployed when feeling threatened, anxious or both. Instead of accepting accountability for feelings or actions that are deemed socially unacceptable they accuse others of committing that unacceptable behavior thereby exonerating themselves and proving that those feelings and/or actions are not their own.

@TheTrentReport
https://youtu.be/bPIPSKruYRo
These traits are so nefarious and unconscionable that I have a hard time believing that anyone could harbor them. However, given the social, political, and economic climate that we are in, those in power who use their influence on controlling society most definitely possess these insidious traits. Everything that they do is all about control and since video games are the biggest market in the world, they want control over it and the communities built around it to accrue more wealth and to use that wealth to subjugate other cultures. Mainstream media is a tool as well as mainstream organizations and sites to help accomplish this goal.
The government recently announced its intentions towards what they believe is “GamerGate 2.0” and now even the ADL has made an official appearance, referring to gamers as “extremist’s”. We know EXACTLY what they are doing, and they aren’t even trying to hide it anymore because they don’t think we are aware of their motives. This is just a pretext for them to exert even more control and we know why, it’s because they want the influence we as a community have to must serve them. So here is what we do my fellow gamers-
“In light of recent events and years of mainstream stigma, we the members of the Global Gaming Community [GGC] must officially renounce ALL TIES to the corporate western video game market. We have been financially exploited through predatorial monetization schemes, pelted with numerous articles of disdain and intentional misrepresentation from game journalists, news outlets regarding us as dangerous individuals and, even subjected to inferior products not only riddled with bugs but also products meant to push political agendas. For the preservation of our community and its unique culture, apart from a few select game development studios we officially sever all connections to western owned video game companies & their mainstream affiliates. From this point onward, we will no longer support western corporate developers, journalists and publishers that do not coincide with the goals of our community.”
Naturally this is completely optional. If you are okay with the state of the gaming community as it is, feel free to ignore this. But if you wish for real change and a break away from oversaturated monetization in the games you play and the push for radical ideological reform, then you are in the right place. Lets sever these rotted miasmic ties once and for all so that our community can be preserved and made better for future gamers. If you agree with this, share it with whoever you think might be interested. The more gamers who get involved, the easier it will be for us to finally break free from mainstream game companies and their associates.

Not just asking about where it was nominally illegal, but culturally discouraged and actually prosecuted if it did occur.

I'm 52, gay and Black, and my mom is 84. I have two older siblings, however our parents were divorced when I was eight and so they were out of the house or about to head to college.
I grew up in a big college town, excelled in school, studied violin. My parents were both professionals and fairly well-known in our community, particularly in the Black and educational parts of it. I think from the outside we looked pretty "normal."
My mother was diagnosed with delusional disorder roughly five years ago as part of the ongoing drama of trying to stabilize her living situation (long story). Previous to this, I don't think that she had seen a mental health professional much less a psychiatrist. My parents were religious and like many Blacks (I think this is changing now, slightly...) didn't seek out this type of healthcare but would, you know, pray...
So I have a new context for my childhood and the crazy things that she did and said. She was often fixated on family members and "being wronged." For instance, when I was in college, she convinced me that her brothers and my cousins, with whom I had been close, were stealing money or her inheritance, or jewelry.
When she remarried when I was 11 she became convinced that my stepfather was gay. There was a kind of emotional incest through which she'd share with me at eight, 10, 11 the details of how my father wronged her or, later, how my step father was gay because he had hemorrhoids, which to a 13-year old makes sense. Neighbors weren't to be trusted either. They wanted her property. A lot of her delusions are about "stuff," which makes me sad.
When I was 19 and at college studying for finals, she turned up to my apartment and handed over a ten-page manifesto accusing me of having sex throughout high school with my stepfather. They were getting divorced at the time and fighting over the house. She told me I'd have to go to court to testify. I went to Europe for a month instead.
Today, with this diagnosis in hand, I at least know that she's sick and can't help it. But it is still hard, especially as I reflect on my childhood--never being able to invite friends over, trouble getting close to others and trusting, always vigilant, navigating every emotional issue as best I can on my own with no blueprint.
I've learned to never argue with her or try to reason with her or tease out the truth. It never helps. But it is tough because, to meet her, she is charming and lucid. She doesn't come off as mentally unstable and didn't when I was a kid.
Yesterday, she called me: "I'm surprised to learn that you're in cahoots with your brother and sister to take my property and put me in a nursing home. That's all I called to say. Now have a nice day."
Depending upon what's going on for me at the moment, this stuff can still ruin a day up to a week. It is so destabilizing.

Me and my girlfriend have been together for 2 years and 7 months at this point (I'm her first boyfriend). The relationship has always been great on an emotional level: she's incredibly supportive and caring, funny and cuddly. VERY cuddly: she loves showering me with physical love like kisses and massages and just cuddling up in bed and I love it, BUT her sex drive has pretty much always been a problem.
I'm a very sexual person, she's not. That much we've known since we've met. She always said sexuality is not that important to her in a relationship (I valued it as being 50% of what makes a relationship work and she was kinda taken aback and said its 20% for her) and that she masturbates rarely compared to other girls (once every 2 weeks): before anyone suggests her being gay, I know for a fact that she likes men because she confirms thats what turns her on and masturbates off of. Anyhow, she admitted it might be because growing up she was conditioned to view sexuality as something of a taboo and so I figured that being with me would ease her into becoming more "sexually comfortable".
The first 6/7/8 months of the relationship she was very sexually curious so she was eager to try out different things and we were very sexually active (basically every other day). But after that her sexual interest towards me started declining. It was slow and gradual enough that I didn't notice it at first, but now after 2 years and 7 months we've gotten to the point where she's "in the mood" only like once in 7 days, which I think is highly unusual for people our age and makes me sexually frustrated (I really need you to understand that in every other aspect of the relationship she's still an AMAZING girlfriend). So I brought it up twice in the last two months and every time she said that she's simply not horny as often as I am and doesn't want to force herself to do anything if she's not (because we both agreed it would be super sad and I don't ever want my partner to perceive sexually pleasing me as a chore): most shockingly (to me) is when she claimed that she's not sexually frustrated at all and is super ok with out current sex life, and I could feel she was being honest.
A few days ago I told her just how much this situation makes me feel frustrated, lonely and ugly, and that I'm thinking of breaking up because of it. She started crying, scared of losing me, and told me the truth: she loves my personality and finds my FACE attractive, but doesn't find my body attractive in the slightest (I'm the textbook definition of skinny fat, I look like a stickman with love handles) and "I think thats why I'm not in the mood that often". She claims that at the start of the relationship she thought she could "get over it", and for some time a friend of mine was trying to get me into working out and in that time she "kinda got her hopes up" (but then I gave up pretty soon). She INSISTED that for her it's not an issue at all, that she's not sexually frustrated and can easily still imagine a life together, but that I have "every right to feel differently and leave". Now she's devastated though, and I kinda feel like an asshole because she's been an incredible partner since we've been together: I also feel miserable at the prospect of leaving her and everything we had, because she's truly everything I've ever wanted in regards to everything else, but I NEED a livelier sexual life.
So, what do I do now? Because I never hated my body at all, but deep down I've always wanted to get "ripped" or whatever, I just couldn't find the willpower to do it. And I feel like her attraction can fuel it. But shouldn't I do something like that for myself? But even If I do it specifically for her, wouldn't it benefit me anyway in the long run? So does it even matter if I do it for her or for me, if the result makes me happier and healthier either way? What If I spend a whole year or more shaping my physique only for us to realize that she still doesn't feel attracted to me and I've just built up resentment? Would it matter, If we can just break up and then I have the better physique that I always wanted? But even If it does work: can I live with the knowledge that my partner wouldn't desire me sexually if I hadn't changed my body? AND living with the pressure that if I don't keep it a certain way she'll stop desiring me? But isn't it totally legitimate for her to like her man a certain way? Aren't I lucky to have found a girl that would already spend her life with me, only requiring me to "earn" her sexual attraction? Or would that spiral into a toxic, transactional mindset? I feel like every choice I'll take I'll regret it. Talking about it with my friends would honestly be embarassing. I need external help to see things clearly.
TL;DR! Relationship with my girlfriend is absolutely perfect, except she has very low sexual attraction towards me and revealed its "probably" because of my body (I'm skinny fat). However, she claims that she's perfectly ok with it and wants to still be together since she feels no sexual frustration whatsoever. Do I lose this otherwise perfect relationship for someone that likes me "the way I am" or do I start working out specifically to "earn" her sexual desire and try to make this relationship truly perfect?

https://sci-hub.st/10.1057/fr.1988.4 Feminist Review, No. 28, Family Secrets: Child Sexual Abuse (Spring, 1988), pp. 56-64
In the early 1970s, when a radical feminist consciousness pulled [incestuous abuse] out of the closet, we thought we were engaged in an unprecedented discovery. In fact, charity volunteers and social workers a century earlier dealt with incest cases daily, understanding them to be a standard, expected part of the caseload of a child-protective agency such as a Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children. How are we to explain this historical amnesia? Like the suppression of so much women's history and feminist analysis, this hiatus was not created simply by the decline in feminism between 1920 and 1970, but by an active reinterpretation of child sexual abuse. I shudder when I think about what this meant: not only because of the incest victims rendered invisible and mute, but also because of its threat to us today, the threat that great achievements in consciousness-raising can be rolled back by powerful ideological tanks. My motives in writing a history of family violence were thus far from disinterested.[1]
Charity and social workers in the late nineteenth-century United States were familiar with child sexual abuse and knew that its most common form of abuse was intrafamilial—that is, incest. Ten per cent of the family-violence case records of Boston child-saving agencies which I sampled, starting in 1880, contained incest (Gordon and O'Keefe, 1986; Gordon, 1984). Moreover, in their upper-class way these child savers had a feminist analysis of the problem: they blamed male brutality and lack of sexual control. They could safely offer such explanations because they believed the problem to occur exclusively among the Catholic immigrant poor, whom they perceived as of "inferior stock," crowded "like animals" into urban ghettoes. Thus, ironically, the very upper-class base of child-rescue work at the time promoted the identification of problems unmentionable by standards of Victorian propriety.
Despite these class limitations, the sympathy for child victims entailed by this sensibility was one of the major achievements of the nineteenth-century feminist movement. The attack on male sexual and familial violence was often disguised in temperance rhetoric. American women's historians have recently conducted a reinterpretation of temperance, acknowledging its anti-Catholic, anti-working class content, but also identifying its meanings for women contesting the evils that alcohol created for them and their families: violence, disease, impoverishment, male irresponsibility. Moreover, the feminist anti-violence campaign had significant successes. In the course of the century wife-beating was transformed from an acceptable practice into one which, despite its continued widespread incidence, was illegal and reprehensible, a seamy behaviour which men increasingly denied and tried to hide (Pleck, 1979). Indeed, the whole movement against child abuse which began in the 1870s was a product of a feminist sensibility in several ways: first, in opposing corporal punishment and preference for gentler methods of child training; second, in challenging the sanctity of the Victorian home and authority of the paterfamilias. Most manuals of child raising by the last quarter of the nineteenth century recommended physical punishment only as a last resort (Reposter note: Of course, this would still be child abuse. "Child training" is still a dehumanizing term. They didn't go anywhere nearly far enough.), and women's legal victories in child custody created a preference for maternal rights to children for a century.
Consider a few examples of incest cases from the late nineteenth century:[2]

In 1900 a thirteen year old girl has been placed out with a family in which the wife is absent. The SPCC worker reports that the "child's bed not slept in but [the father's bed is] much tumbled. The girl cries and dreads the night." (Case #1820A)
An incest victim reports, sometime in the 1890s, that her father "told her that it was all right for him to do such things and say such things to her, for all fathers did so with their daughters. Tried to force her to go to a hotel in Boston with him once. Also advised her to go with fellows to get money. Said that if she got in trouble he would help her out.…" (Case #2058A)

There were hundreds of these stories telling us not only that [incestuous abuse] occurred, but that child-saving agencies were aware of it and taking action against it. The publicity and fund-raising efforts of the Massachusetts Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children focussed on intrafamily "carnal abuse" directly, unembarrassed to include it as part of the need for SPCC intervention.
In the early twentieth century the child-savers' view of child sexual assault changed significantly, and incest was de-emphasized. By the 1920s, although child-protective agencies continued to meet many incest cases, a three-part interpretive transformation had occurred: the locus of the problem was moved from home to streets, the culprit transformed from father or other authoritative male family member to perverted stranger, the victim transformed from innocent betrayed to sex delinquent. In other words, the fact that child sex abuse is overwhelmingly a family problem was obscured; instead it was pictured as rape by strangers on the streets. (Anna Clark has shown how a similar reinterpretation of adult rape took place (Clark, 1987).) This is not to say that there was no extrafamilial sex abuse; there was, but, compared to incest, it was greatly exaggerated in both public and professional discourse.
Several factors contributed to this reinterpretation. The professionalization of social work tended to weaken the influence of feminists and social reformers among child protectors, even as, ironically, more women entered child welfare casework as salaried workers. After the women's suffrage victory in 1920 the organized feminist movement fragmented and weakened. During World War I venereal disease became a major problem for the armed forces (it was for this reason that condoms became widely available at this time, first issued by the Navy to sailors); servicemen were presented as victims of disease-ridden prostitutes. After the war, fears of Bolshevism, sexual freedom, and feminism combined to create a "pro-family" backlash.
The implications of this reinterpretation of child sexual abuse were pernicious for women and girls. The existence of sexual abuse became evidence requiring the constriction and domestication of girls, and their mothers were blamed for inadequate supervision if the girls were molested or even played on the streets. What was once categorized as carnal abuse, the perpetrators virtually all male, was often now categorized as moral neglect—meaning that the mother was the culprit and the behaviour of the victim was implicated. Some of the "sex abuse" was relatively noncoercive teenage sexuality. Female juvenile sex delinquency was constructed as a major social problem in early twentieth-century America, and it was a vague, victimless crime. Girls who smoked and drank, dressed or spoke immodestly, or simply loitered on the streets were convicted of sex delinquency in substantial numbers and sent to reformatories (Schlossman and Wallach, 1978). During World War I near armed-forces bases it was the servicemen who were the innocents, their girl partners the sources of pollution. Even girls who had been raped were no longer victims but temptresses. I do not mean to deny that some girls behaved in socially dangerous and self-destructive ways, nor that they sought out sexual adventure but, as many students of sex delinquents and other runaways today have observed, high proportions, quite possibly a majority of these girls, were first victims of sexual assault, typically familial. They were, so to speak, squeezed out onto the streets in search of safety and/or self-esteem from homes that were even more destructive than the street boys or men who exploited them.
Above all, this reinterpretation of child sexual abuse removed scrutiny from family and home, restoring the curtain of impunity that surrounded those sacred institutions. This was the period of the discovery of the "dirty old man," the "sex fiend," and the "pervert," the stereotypical culprit in child sex abuse cases in the 1930s, 1940s and 1950s. As before, I do not wish to deny that such figures existed. Child protection agencies uncovered child prostitution, pornography rings and sex criminals who molested literally scores of children. The victims were not always brutalized; the children of the very poor—not only in the Depression but in earlier decades too—could be bribed into acquiescence and silence with a nickel, an orange, a pail of coal. However, even these nonfamilial molesters were rarely "strangers." They were often neighbours, accepted members of communities, often small businessmen or janitors who had access to private space.
There were two peak periods of hysteria about sex crimes: 1937-40 and 1949-55. The panic had official government sponsorship, led by none less that J. Edgar Hoover, head of the FBI. In 1937 he called for a "War on the Sex Criminal." Hoover's rantings about "degenerates" threatening "American childhood and womanhood" assimilated these sexual anxieties to nationalism, racism and anti-Communism. It bears notice that, in contrast to earlier periods of public agitation against sex crimes, as in campaigns to raise the age of consent in the Progressive era, women's organizations played no role in this campaign (Freedman, 1987).
Meanwhile social workers became less likely to investigate girls' typically euphemistic accusations of their fathers.

In 1935 a mother turned her daughter in for sex delinquency. Investigation reveals that the daughter, fleeing from an abusive father, who also beat his wife severely, had spent most of her time for 4-5 years with her maternal uncle and aunt. She accused her maternal uncle of molesting her steadily. However, the MSPCC physical exam indicated that she was a virgin,[3] so no action was taken. (#3555A)
A battered woman, terrified of her husband, is told by their daughter, who has become a "sex delinquent," behaving "vulgarly," that her father has criminally assaulted her. The mother says "she would speak to him." At court the police chief says he is doubtful about taking up the case as the girl's word is the only evidence the Government could produce; he would not question the father "as it would be asking [him] to incriminate himself." The daughter was committed to an institution. (#2057A)
In 1920 a mother is so fearful that her new husband will abuse her daughter (from a previous marriage) that every time she goes out she hires a babysitter to chaperone them. Yet when the daughter, now eleven, says she has been raped by a "stranger" whom she refuses to name, the social workers not only fail to question whether she might be shielding her stepfather, but decide that her accusation is not credible and brand her a delinquent—a liar, immoral, and uncontrollable. She is boarded out as a domestic. (#3085A)
In 1930 a 14-year-old girl alleges sexual abuse by her widowed father and begs to be taken out of his home. No action is taken until the father brings her to court on stubborn-child charges and she, as well as her younger sister whom she has been trying to protect are sentenced, separately, to institutions. (#3585)

In addition to references like these, in which the agencies did not investigate or prosecute, there were many others in which agency workers simply did not pick up the broad hints that girls threw out, hoping to draw attention to their plight. Social workers ignored statements like, "I asked my mother for a lock on my door." These girls were not usually bribed or intimidated into silence. Some of the recent discussion of incest emphasizes victims' fearful silence, but this evidence is based on the work of therapists, counselling incest victims years later, who have often by then reconstructed their stories on the basis of their guilt; my evidence, contemporaneous with the abuse, showed that these children were usually very active in trying to get help, more so, for example, than victims of nonsexual child abuse (Gordon, 1986).
Not only did social workers de-emphasize incest, but academic experts dismissed it as an extremely rare, one-in-a-million occurrence (Weinberg, 1955). Psychoanalytic and anthropological interpretations, associated respectively with Freud and Levi-Strauss, attributed to incest taboos a vital role in the development of civilization; this logic brought with it the assumption that these taboos were effective and that incest was, in fact, rare; but in terms of impact on treatment of actual cases, Freudian thought did not so much cause social workers to deny children's complaints and hints about sexual mistreatment as it offered categories with which to explain away these complaints. As Boston psychiatrist Eleanor Pavenstedt commented in 1954:

Most of us have trained ourselves to skepticism toward the claims of young girls who maintain they have been seduced by their fathers… We must ask ourselves whether our tendency to disbelief is not in part at least based on denial. The incest barrier is perhaps the strongest support of our cultural family structure, and we may well shrink from the thought of its being threatened. (Pavenstedt, 1954)

So did the dominant sociology of the family, which inverted Levi-Strauss's functionalism to prove that the incest taboo was operative because it had to be. For example, "No known human society could tolerate much incest without ruinous disruption" (Gebhard, Gagnon, Pomeroy and Christenson, 1965: 208; Davis, 1949; Bell and Vogel, 1963). The few nonfeminist historians to study incest replicated that error by studying public beliefs about incest, not behaviour (Wohl, 1979; Strong, 1973).
The rediscovery of [incestuous abuse] in the 1970s was, then, merely a reinterpretation, and it did not come quickly. Nonsexual child abuse was resurrected as a social problem in the 1960s in a movement led by physicians but stimulated by the influence of the New Left, with its sympathy for youth and critique of authority and the family. Without pressure from feminists, [incestuous abuse] first reappeared as gender-neutral. Indeed, the very classification of all forms of intrafamily sexual activity as [incestuous abuse] obscures the meanings of these behaviours. For example, sibling sexual activity, or sex between other relatives of approximately the same age, is extremely common, difficult to identify and not necessarily abusive. Mother-child incest is extremely rare and, in my findings, more often than father-child incest, associated with adult mental illness; by contrast incestuous fathers have extremely "normal" profiles (Gordon and O'Keefe, 1984; Herman, 1981). (Reposter note: I am skeptical about these two claims. Maternal CSA is significantly rarer than paternal CSA, yes, but I doubt that it's "extremely" rare, and an analysis of adult supremacy as an axis of oppression intersecting with misogyny clarifies this. I am also skeptical of all pathologization and saneism-inflected broad claims about abuser psychology. I have reason to believe she and her sources were biased by heterosexism in reaching this conclusion. In contrast, youth liberation feminists would emphasize the adultism, domestic power, and authoritarian motives in an intersectional manner.) Yet many child abuse experts throughout the 1970s ignored these gender differences (Kempe, 1980; Money, 1980). Others found ingenious ways of explaining away actuality with speculation about possibility. Thus social worker Kate Rist argued that "society has created a stronger prohibition against mother-son incest" because "it is most likely to occur. This has led to the intriguing situation in which father-daughter incest appears to have a lower natural probability of occurrence, is therefore less strongly prohibited, and in practice occurs more often" (Rist, 1979; 682).
Historians do not usually like to speak of the "lessons of history," as if she were some objective, finally definitive schoolteacher. But in many years of work at the craft, I have never come across a story that so directly yields a moral. The moral is that the presence or absence of a strong feminist movement makes the difference between better and worse solutions to the social problem of child sexual abuse; more, that the very same evidence of sexual abuse will be differently defined in the presence or absence of that movement. Without a feminist analysis, evidence of child sexual abuse means that danger lies in sex perverts, in public spaces, in unsupervised girls, in sexually assertive girls. There are few ironies more bitter than the fact that rape of children—that most heinous of crimes—has also been the crime most drenched in victim-blaming. As with adult rape, child sexual abuse without feminist interpretation supplies evidence and arguments for constricting and disempowering children.
Such a reinterpretation arose again in the United States in the mid-1980s, a reinterpretation aided, of course, by the real and increasing incidence of deranged killers attacking strangers. In the school year 1984/85 my then second-grade daughter was taught three separate programmes in her classroom about how to react to sexual abuse attempts, all of them emphasizing strangers, and all of them gender-neutral. The most publicized sexual abuse cases have concerned daycare centres, and often female teachers, although daycare centres remain, on the whole, among the safest environments for children. The statistics about child sexual abuse remain what they were a century ago: the most dangerous place for children is the home, the most likely assailant their father. Similarly a panic about missing children not only exaggerated their numbers a thousandfold, but completely misstated the source of such "kidnappings": neglecting to mention that noncustodial parents are overwhelmingly the main kidnappers; and that teenage runaways, often from abusive homes, are overwhelmingly the majority of the missing children.
What then is the best policy? My argument should not be taken as an implicit call for de-emphasizing the problem. On the contrary. The children's educational programmes and pamphlets have strengths, particularly in so far as they offer assertiveness training for children: if it feels uncomfortable, trust your judgement and say no; scream loud and run fast; tell someone. Of course it is difficult and inadvisable to sow distrust of fathers, particularly because the more intimate fathers are with children, the more responsibility they have for children, the less likely they will be to abuse them sexually. (Reposter note: I get what she's trying to say here, but this is phrased poorly IMO. Sowing distrust is fine. If it's genuinely unjustified, then the problem will resolve itself.) However, education for children should contain a feminist and an anti-authoritarian analysis: should discuss the relative powerlessness of women and girls, and praise assertiveness and collective resistance in girls; should demystify the family and even discuss that ultimately tabooed subject, economic power in the family. Education for boys must be equally brave and delicate. Boys are children too, and often victimized sexually, but they are also future men, and school age is not too early to ask them to consider what's wrong with male sexual aggression, to teach them to criticize the multiple and powerful cultural messages that endorse male sexual aggression.
Probably the most important single contribution to the prevention of [father-daughter] incest would be the strengthening of mothers. By increasing their ability to support themselves and their social and psychological self-esteem, allowing them to choose independence if that is necessary to protect themselves and their daughters, men's sexual exploitation could be checked. In the historical incest cases I sampled, one of the most consistent common denominators was the extreme helplessness of mothers—often the victims of wife-beating themselves, they were often ill or otherwise isolated, they were the poorest, the least self-confident and the least often employed of mothers in these case records. This is not victim-blaming; their weaknesses were not their fault, but part of the systematic way in which male supremacy gives rise to [father-daughter] incest. It was a gain that wife-beating and [father-daughter] incest have become more criminalized, but we cannot expect women to prosecute aggressively if their prospects for single motherhood are so bleak.
Moreover, women's very subordination often contributes to making them child abusers and neglecters. Although women do not usually abuse children sexually, in these case records they were responsible for approximately half the nonsexual child abuse (the same proportion they occupy in many contemporary studies). Unfortunately, feminists have avoided women's own violence towards children and analysed family violence in terms of stereotypical male brutality and female gentleness. Women's violence should not be regarded as a problem that will somehow weaken our feminist claims; on the contrary, these claims should not rest on assumptions of women's superiority […]. Women's mistreatment of children also needs an analysis of the damages caused by the sexual division of labour and the pattern of women's exclusive responsibility for child-raising. In the US, too, the rather middle-class radical feminist groups never made issues of social services a political priority, although such services are fundamental to women's ability to resist violence, to protect their children, and to parent better themselves.
This is not to say that a good feminist line will solve the problems of child sexual abuse, especially not where the abuse has already occurred. Like everyone else, feminists who deal with policy or individual cases must wobble through many contradictions. For example: the victimization is real, but the tendency to exaggerate its incidence and to produce social and moral panics needs to be resisted. The problem emerges from the powerlessness, the effective invisibility and muteness of women and children, especially girls, but the adult anxiety has led to children's false accusations, and children's sufferings will not be corrected by eroding the due process rights and civil liberties of those accused. Child sexual abuse needs a political interpretation, in terms of male power. However, the prosecution of culprits—however necessary—and the breaking up of families that may result do not always benefit the child victims. Especially if they are incestuous, sex abuse cases have something of the tragic about them, because once they arise, tremendous human damage has already occurred, and a politically correct analysis will not ease the pain. Still, that analysis, situating the problem in the context of male supremacy in and outside the family, is the only long-term hope for prevention.
Notes
Linda Gordon is Professor of History at the University of Wisconsin/Madison. She is the author of Woman's Body, Woman's Right and the forthcoming book on family violence noted below.
[1] My book, Heroes of Their Own Lives: The History and Politics of Family Violence, is forthcoming from Viking/Penguin US in early 1988. References to my sources and more information on my research methodology can be found there.
[2] These and other excerpts are from case records of Boston, Massachusetts, child-protection agencies (see Gordon, 1988).
[3] The standard response to a sex abuse allegation was to look at the condition of the hymen (Gordon, 1988).
References
BELL, Norman and VOGEL, Ezra (1963) editors A Modern Introduction to the Family New York: Free Press.
BREINES, Wini and GORDON, Linda (1983) "The New Scholarship on Family Violence" Signs 8, pp. 490-531.
CLARK, Anna (1987) Women's Silence, Men's Violence: Sexual Assault in England 1770-1845 London: Pandora Press.
DAVIS, Kingsley (1949) Human Society New York: Macmillan.
DUBOIS, Ellen and GORDON, Linda (1983) "Seeking Ecstasy on the Battlefield: Danger and Pleasure in Nineteenth-century Feminist Sexual Thought" Feminist Studies 9, pp. 7-25; also Feminist Review no. 11 (1981).
FREEDMAN, Estelle B. (1987) "'Uncontrolled Desires': The Response to the Sexual Psychopath, 1920-1960" Journal of American History Vol. 74, no. 1, pp. 83-106.
GEBHARD, Paul, GAGNON, J. POMEROY, Wardell and CHRISTENSON, C. (1965) Sex Offenders New York: Harper & Row.
GORDON, Linda and O'KEEFE, Paul (1984) "Incest as a Form of Family Violence: Evidence from Historical Case Records" Journal of Marriage and the Family Vol. 46, no. 1, pp. 27-34.
GORDON, Linda (1986) "Incest and Resistance: Patterns of Father-Daughter Incest, 1880-1930" Social Problems Vol. 33, no. 4, pp. 253-67.
GORDON, Linda (1988) Heroes of Their Own Lives: The Politics and History of Family Violence New York: Viking/Penguin.
HERMAN, Judith (1981) Father-Daughter Incest Cambridge: Harvard University Press.
KAUFMAN, Irving, PECK, Alice L. and TAGIURI, Consuelo K. (1954) "The Family Constellation and Overt Incestuous Relations Between Father and Daughter" American Journal of Orthopsychiatry Vol. 24, pp. 266-79.
KEMPE, C. Henry (1980) "Incest and Other Forms of Sexual Abuse" in KEMPE (1980).
KEMPE, C. Henry and HELFER, Ray (1980) The Battered Child Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
MONEY, John, (1980) Introduction to the incest section in WILLIAMS and MONEY (1980).
PAVENSTEDT, Eleanor (1954) Addendum to KAUFMAN, PECK and TAGIURI (1954).
PLECK, Elizabeth (1979) "Wife Beating in Nineteenth-century America" Victimology Vol. 4, no. 1, pp. 60-74.
RIST, Kate (1979) "Incest: Theoretical and Clinical Views" American Journal of Orthopsychiatry Vol. 49, no. 4, pp. 680-91.
RUSH, Florence (1980) The Best Kept Secret: Sexual Abuse of Children Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall.
SCHLOSSMAN, Steven and WALLACH, Stephanie (1978) "The Crime of Precocious Sexuality: Female Juvenile Delinquency in the Progressive Era" Harvard Educational Review 48, pp. 65-94.
STRONG, Bryan (1973) "Toward a History of the Experiential Family: Sex and Incest in the Nineteenth-century Family" Journal of Marriage and the Family, Vol. 35, no. 3, pp. 457-66.
WEINBERG, S. (1955) Incest Behavior New York: Citadel Press.
WILLIAMS, Gertrude J. and MONEY, John (1980) editors Traumatic Abuse and Neglect of Children at Home Baltimore: Johns Hopkins.
WOHL, Anthony S. (1979) "Sex and the Single Room: Incest Among the Victorian Working Classes" in The Victorian Family: Structure and Stress ed. Wohl. New York: St Martin's Press.

In the rule 34 episode Shadman was reported as being a trans woman, he is not. The artist, Shaddai Prejean, draws loli and a lot of sexually taboo things that have gotten him into legal trouble (such as drawing art of the actress who played X23 in the movie Logan as well as non sexual art of a YouTuber’s daughter). A few years ago he was arrested for assault with a deadly weapon. I believe he may be out of prison now but there was someone a while back claiming to be him (and that Shadman was trans) while he was still in jail.
The episode was really funny and I love the podcast. I know that this was a silly episode that was dealing with kinda gross/funny stuff but I did want to jump in to say that the image that Gare was describing is also explicitly femme Donald Trump as a child and that Shadman drew that as part of his 2016 Hill-Loli (???) phase.
I hate myself for knowing so much about this but if I have been cursed with this knowledge you must too.

Good morning (maybe afternoon to others on the other side of the world), and could I please get some advice on this..?
My parents always have been very open about everything and maybe like "friends" type of parents. And, I appreciate that, and it has been helpful and great for a lot of occasions.
But it has been a little awkward and uncomfortable since I started puberty and have gotten older (I'm in early teens, but I don't want to share my age). Like I said, they are really open type, so they want to talk about or give me the talks about puberty, sex, boys, and all. But, I've always been more of timid and shy type, so for me, talking about those is really embarrassing, and I feel like those are kind of private things, so I don't really want to talk about those.
I told my parents that, and they told me that's because I'm making it as a taboo or something embarrassing and shameful. And, I shouldn't treat those as something embarrassing and shameful to have healthy minds on my body and sexuality. And, they said it's important to be mature and talk about those in safe setting, so I get the right information. And I understand what they mean, but I still feel really embarrassed or weird to talk about those, and I feel like I'm immature or something for feeling like that...
Like they casually talk about my period and track it on their phone, and they say period is something that I shouldn't feel ashamed, and it's better for them to know when I'm on it, so they know when and how to help me during those time. Or like they want to talk about my growth and puberty things to make sure everything is OK. Like one time, my mom brought up some things about my undies in the hamper, and she noticed that I was embarrassed not saying anything back, and she told me "they are just clothes, and it's what our bodies do naturally. I thought you were mature enough to talk about this." And I felt bad for feeling insecure and embarrassed again...
And like worst thing was lately, they gifted me like a bunch of sex toys after we had some talk on like masturbation for me to use telling me it's important to do it safely and to explore and know what I like.. and they even got me a door sign that I can flip, so they "know when not to bother me and respect me"... But, I feel super uncomfortable with all those, and I know I shouldn't feel this way, but I think those toys are like kind of gross and intimidating, and I don't really want them to know like the details of it...
But like I don't know what to do because I know it's healthy and mature to be comfortable with all these, and I should be able to have an open conversation about these, but I still feel really embarrassed and weird about these. And, when I tell them how I feel, I feel really immature for feeling this way, and it makes me feel like I'm embarrassed and ashamed about my body and natural things when I shouldn't be. What do I do..? How do I talk to them? Would time will help and I'll be more comfortable over time? Thank you for your advice..

EDIT: okay you all seem to think I'm talking a about buying used women's underwear. No. I'm talking about buying used underwear, period, whether you're a man buying men's underwear or woman buying women's underwear. And I'm talking taboo in the sense of wearing them, as in taboo because it's unhygienic. I can't believe I had to make this edit to explain myself, y'all really are degenerates for thinking I meant buying it for sexual purposes and you all need to take a good hard look at yourselves for jumping to the worst conclusion :EDIT
So being a lifelong member of the male sex, I was always lead to believe that buying or selling used underwear is a no-no, but I just saw a post by a woman selling her used bikini (top and bottom). This got me to thinking, how is that any different to used underwear?

Protecting your energy is protecting your soul from negative, toxic, Soul Destructive people: past, present and future, living AND deceased: Generational Curses/Familial Sins = Karma
To save and restore oneself, energetic cords must be broken and dissolved. Changes must be made both mentally, spiritually, and psychologically. One must unlearn in order to Relearn. The programmed worldy ego will always keep you trapped until you start learning how to deprogram and reprogram it.
Everything stored in your ego was ingrained, programmed, Indoctrinated into you by OTHERS who didn't really have your best interest at heart. Not everyone that's been placed in your life was meant for YOUR good, but as lessons learned through trials, testing, tribulations to create growth and knowledge NOT to regress, suppress, nor stuck in wounded self-victimization.
Some people find offense in being told the truth that we've ALL been Indoctrinated, brainwashed, by every institution we've been made a part of and pushed by our parents/family maybe unknowingly, but yet it still happened. So you don't like to acknowledge that then your only further harming yourself. Many families were not aware of what they were doing at the time because they were more fixated on following and obeying the "rules/rituals, fake manmade laws, and they only blindly and obediently "complied".
This isn't to blame, shame, nor vilify anyone as that's not the purpose of Truth. Truth is to point out errors and alert to changes that must be made to "right" a wrong. Truth isn't meant to be comfortable, especially to those who hold onto falsehoods and the illusions of delusions. The Truth is the only way forward.
Real genuine growth and wisdom can only be created through chaos, as chaos triggers growth, knowledge = wisdom. Through chaos comes beauty. Like Volcanic eruptions are very Destructive, yet they also create the most beautiful landscapes when the destruction ceases.
Maybe you might find it helpful to imagine yourself as your own little volcano. Occasional eruptions to shake you up are necessary to break you out of a self-destructive streak or for you to break free from Destructive relationships, to then create a beautiful landscape eventually. Volcanic eruptions are seen as the earth purging itself from an overloaded toxic build-up of poisonous sulphuric acid and molten lava, and oftentimes, the release brings calmness and tranquility afterwards.
Nobody and Nothing can do it for you. You must do it on your own.
Free Will Choice is the Universal Law, and whatever you choose will be honored.
Caveat: If you choose to do nothing and let things continue to be as you are programmed into accepting as "normal" and not needing changed, there will be no "rescue" as you made your choice. You have therefore chosen to remain conformed to this world, and therefore, you will be ruled by this world, corruption wars disharmony intolerance destruction and all, and you'll go down with the ship.
There NEVER has been a being that will "rescue" anyone. That's a Soul Trap intentionally set up to entice people into NEVER awakening to their TRUE Potential as the "savior" agenda was intentionally used to harvest souls for the power of darkness = the soulless corrupted otherworldly beings.
Those who choose to make the changes will also not be "rescued" as they've already rescued themselves by being conscious and choosing to elevate/evolve from a lower mindset to a higher mindset and state of being. You chose not to conform to this world. Therefore, you will gain absolute freedom and unification with ALL that "IS" and soar to vast new heights never before, though possible. Free from the confines and artificial manmade "laws/dictates/doctrines." You will be safe because this old world will no longer be able to control you nor hold you back = it can not touch you.
Only YOU can heal Generational Karma or not. Only YOU can heal yourself or not. Your choice and nobody else's. God can never do it for you as God NEVER breaks the Universal Law of Free Will. Your choice will be honored either way.
Therefore, YOU are in charge of your OWN destiny, and you are the captain of your own ship. It's up to you if you sail off into the horizon, or to capsize and sink like many generations before you.
✨️✨️✨️
7 Smart Ways to Deal with Toxic People
Don’t let toxic people rent space in your head. Raise the rent and get them out of there.

1. Move on without them.
2. Stop pretending their toxic behavior is OK.
3. Speak up!
4. Put your foot down
5. Don’t take their toxic behavior personally.
6. Practice practical compassion
7. Take time for yourself.

https://www.marcandangel.com/2013/12/08/7-smart-ways-to-deal-with-toxic-people/
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9 Ways to Find Peace of Mind in Tough Times
Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain. — Vivian Greene

1. Learn to trust yourself.
2. Focus on what you’re learning
3. Ease your expectations.
4. Open up to someone you trust
5. Use hope to drive positive action.
6. Move TOWARDS something instead of AWAY.
7. Take a few steps back
8. Give yourself time
9. Look for the beginning in every ending.

https://www.marcandangel.com/2013/05/09/9-ways-to-find-peace-in-tough-times/
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3 Daily Habits that Often Drain 90 Percent of Our True Potential (Week After Week)
“In the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years.”

1. Treating every day as though it’s “just another day.”

Start by being honest about the distraction and busyness in your life…
How often do you engage in the exchange of valueless gossip? How often are you thinking about other things when someone is talking to you? Do you check social media apps on your phone when you’re working, or when you’re spending time with loved ones? Do you send text messages while driving?

1. Waiting and hoping to “find” something to be passionate about.

If you want more passion in your life right now, act accordingly right now.
Put your whole heart and soul into something…
Not into tomorrow’s opportunities, but the opportunity right in front of you.
Not into tomorrow’s tasks, but today’s tasks.
Not into tomorrow’s run, but today’s run.
Not into tomorrow’s conversations, but today’s conversations.

1. Being too close and controlling every single step of the way.

Acceptance is letting go and allowing certain things to be the way they truly are. It doesn’t mean you don’t care about improving the reality of your life; it’s just realizing that the only thing you really have control over is yourself and your thoughts about everything else
When you let everything and everyone breathe, you just let them be, exactly as they are. You don’t need to control them, worry about them, or change them. You just let them breathe, in peace, and you accept them as they are.
https://www.marcandangel.com/2024/06/06/4-little-things-that-will-matter-a-lot-more-to-you-in-40-years/
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Gossip Isn’t Good for You
Loosely defined, gossip is talking about someone from your family, work, church, or community behind their back, and typically in a way, you would not want them to overhear. Gossip is toxic, low vibrational behavior that never leaves you feeling good, so why do it? It’s a classic human error. Wasting our precious energy, boosting the signal of things we find distasteful, increasing behaviors that make us feel hostile, tired, and sad.
Gossip often feels like the only recourse for those with no power, or insufficient power to enact change in a situation. You don’t like a situation, but instead of rising, you take the temporary false sense of empowerment from gossiping and sink deeper in. When you talk shit, you bring that same ugly, dense, destructive energy into your own life. You make a home for something rotten,
Gossiping seems to relieve bad feelings, but in reality, it intensifies them. Validation is one seemingly-pleasing outcome of gossip that often rots on the vine once you’re alone.
Words have power. Let me say that one more time. WORDS. HAVE. POWER. Don’t waste your power calling negative energy into your life. Next time you’re tempted to gossip, try something different
https://community.thriveglobal.com/gossip-isnt-good-for-you/
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The psychology of gossip..and it’s not good
Gossip is entitlement Gossip shows low self-esteem Whenever you are tempted to share intimate or personal details about someone with others, weigh your intentions and ask yourself some hard questions -
1] How does passing this information help you or that other person? 2] Are you sharing this information out of malice or envy?
Is this really necessary? Is the information your sharing a life or death situation? If not it's of no real importance to anyone because it has no constructive service, only destructive
https://medium.com/@muktimasih/the-psychology-of-gossip-and-its-not-good-35eff5f8c37e
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Signs of Low Emotional Intelligence
A Need to Be Right Oblivious to Others' Feelings Insensitivity Blaming Others Poor Coping Skills
https://www.verywellmind.com/signs-of-low-emotional-intelligence-2795958
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Signs Of Low Emotional Intelligence & How To Overcome Them
Emotional intelligence (EI) refers to your ability to understand and manage your own and other people’s emotions. So low emotional intelligence would mean those who are unable to comprehend and control their own emotions and may struggle to relate to others
Goleman identified five components of EI.

1. Self-awareness

2. Self-regulation

3. Motivation

4. Empathy

5. Social skills

What are the signs someone has low emotional intelligence?

1. Low Self-awareness

2. Low Self-regulation

3. Limited Motivation

4. Lack of Empathy

1. Poor Social Skills

https://www.tsw.co.uk/blog/leadership-and-management/low-emotional-intelligence/
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What to Know About People with Toxic Traits
What causes toxic behavior?

1. Nature

Research suggests that these negative traits are at least partially genetic, passed from parent to child. Other studiesTrusted Source have shown that personality traits overall are moderately heritable.
So, people with parents who have toxic traits may be more likely to have those characteristics, too

2. Nurture

One studyTrusted Source found that being overprotected, pampered, or praised excessively in childhood can be associated with more narcissistic personality traits and feelings of entitlement.
On the other hand, some people with toxic traits may behave poorly because of past trauma, a dysfunctional family life, or substance use. A person’s inability to process stress and grief can sometimes transform into toxicity towards others.

3. Mental health conditions

Not all people with these traits have mental health conditions, but for some, conditions like personality disorders, bipolar disorder, or post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) can be the underlying cause of their behavior.

4. Positive reinforcement

Research suggests that even though they’re not actually better at their jobs, employees with toxic traits might be more likely to receive higher salaries and be promoted into leadership positions.
This may be because they’re able to portray themselves as hard workers, manipulate and exploit others, or cheat their way into getting what they want.
A person with toxic traits may be:
judgmental needy mean dishonest denialist narcissistic controlling calculating verbally or physically abusive emotionally inconsistent
Examples of toxic behavior
Lying and dramatizing Belittling or criticizing Asking for pity or sympathy Failing to take responsibility Isolating you from other people Gaslighting and manipulation
https://psychcentral.com/health/things-you-absolutely-must-know-about-toxic-people#signs
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How to Deal effectively once and for all with energetic soul killing toxic people while healing yourself simultaneously. You gotta cut Energetic Cords if you truly want real peace, freedom, and joy, and a holistic state of mind/body/soul. It doesn't mean you hate them. It only means you choose to respect and honor yourself for once. If you can't choose to honor and respect yourself first and foremost, nobody else NEVER will. You will always get back from others what you believe, feel, and treat yourself and how you ALLOW others,to treat you.
Link contains information about how everything in creation is connected energetically through light, colors, sounds, vibrational frequencies/energy through Quantum Physics = the Living Language of God, Source of ALL creation.
Everything is constantly in motion, everything is always connected, nothing is separate: we are ALL connected to everyone and everything in creation throughout the entire Universe.
https://www.reddit.comJulieG350Jgs/s/MMql76SEpb
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5 Ways to Protect Yourself from Energy Vampires
Recognize toxic people in your life and take your energy back.
The important thing to keep in mind about energies is that we always pay back whatever we take. It’s also true the other way around, we receive a “positive interest on our energy investment” when we uplift someone.
The moment you emotionally react to energy vampires, they begin stealing your energy.
You leak your energy when you have a negative emotional reaction to something.
How to protect yourself from energy vampires?

1. Learn to say no
2. Become aware of your energies
3. Your energy stays with you.
4. Love is the strongest energy
5. Cord cutting

https://medium.com/thrive-global/5-ways-to-protect-yourself-from-energy-vampires-5a8a88a61f92
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Energetic Cord Cutting
Cord cutting is a spiritual practice that involves severing emotional ties with people to release negative energy and move forward. It can be a way for empaths, who may be highly attuned to the emotions of others, to heal from past relationships and protect their own energy.
Here are some steps you can take to cut an energetic cord with someeone:

1. Ground yourself: Use meditation or breathwork to calm yourself
2. Visualize the cord: Picture a cord of light connecting you to the other person
3. Express gratitude: Thank the other person for what you've learned from the relationship, even if it was difficult
4. Cut the cord: Say something like "It's time to break our bonds" and visualize cutting the cord with scissors
5. Cleanse your energy: Finish by cleansing your energy field

Cord cutting doesn't mean ending relationships or erasing memories, but rather releasing negative energy to allow for growth and emotional healing. You can also try cutting off contact with the other person, such as avoiding them in person, removing them from social media, or blocking their number
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How to Cut an Unhealthy Bond with Someone

1. Practice a Partial Cord Cutting Visualization
2. Practice a Complete Cord Cutting Visualization

https://drjudithorloff.com/how-to-cut-an-unhealthy-bond-with-someone/
https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-empaths-survival-guide/201707/how-cut-unhealthy-bond-someone
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BPDFamily.com https://bpdfamily.com › m... Cords, Hooks and Drains
Cutting Cords, Hooks, and Drains from toxic people
https://bpdfamily.com/message_board/index.php?topic=229528.0
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Cord Cutting Ritual: What It Is and How to Do It
As we move through our lives — growing, learning, evolving — we must necessarily let go of that which no longer serves us. When we let go, we create space. This space is that of potential, of possibility.
Key takeaways:
Cord cutting is a practice to sever unhelpful emotional ties.
It’s a tool for healing and moving forward from past relationships.
The ritual involves grounding, visualization, symbolic severing, and energy cleansing.
Success signs include relief, peace, and increased energy.
The focus is on changing your own energy, not the other person’s.
***Ready to begin? Dive in quickly with this 4.8-star cord cutting meditation from Insight Timer teacher, Jessie Weeks.
https://insighttimer.com/blog/cutting-energy-cords/
***Cord Cutting Meditation
https://insighttimer.com/jessweeks/guided-meditations/cord-cutting_1
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Why Cut Cords of Attachment to Crazy Moms?
Why Cut Cords of Attachment to Crazy Moms? With all you have done to deal with that crazy from your past, why would it still make a big difference to Cut that Cord of attachment?
Any major Cord of Attachment is worth cutting in a personal Session. Every minor cord of attachment is worth cutting, too. What else do you know about the importance of cutting cords if you’ve studied with me?
Each cord of attachment has a distinctive pattern of energy, what I call a “Dialog Box.” One of my 12 Steps to Cut Cords of Attachment® involves catching this information while it is fresh, writing it down, discussing it with the client.
Cords of Attachment to Mothers with Mental Health Problems
“Claudia”‘s mother had been diagnosed as schizophrenic, going in and out of hospitals often during Claudia’s childhood.
“Marissa”‘s mother died when she was two. Relatives had darkly hinted to Marissa that there was something troubling about that mother and, oboy, did that ever become clear.
Why Cut Cords of Attachment to Crazy Moms?
Cords of Attachment in the Womb
One of the problems of having a mother with mental illness is that the baby receives imprinting through the cord of attachment. For Marissa, these were the first three items in her Dialog Box
Rage at everyone and everything. (Absorbed in the womb, through the cord of attachment.)
Feeling threatened, put on the defensive by other people’s behavior, sudden changes in temperature, any sudden change. (Again, absorbed in the womb, through the cord of attachment.)
Desire to get even with people for any imagined slight or insult. (Yes, this Cord Item, like the other two, had a completely different texture than the rest of the cord of attachment. These patterns were set up right from the start.)
Why Cut Cords of Attachment to Crazy Moms? Almost Unimaginable Pain It’s hard to imagine the pain of living with mental illness unless you’ve been there. You could have a cord of attachment to a parent, a child, a husband or wife who has severe problems — and form that cord long before you become aware there is even a problem.
Sometimes I like to call cutting cords to the mentally ill… part of the process of becoming a “Craziness Survivor.”
The anguish of becoming a Craziness Survivor includes the moment when it hits you. This person in your life is either out of control, chronically mentally ill, going through a breakdown, maybe all three at once.
And, sometimes, this moment of realization, in all its anguish, is what sticks in a cord of attachment.
If, like many readers of this blog, you happen to have a gift as an Empath, the anguish will be magnified many times over… and then all that suffering will become stuck in the cord of attachment.
https://www.rose-rosetree.com/blog/2008/10/25/why-cut-cords-attachment-crazy/
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Cords and Decording: releasing the burdens and unhealthy connections
What is cording?
But it is not just something that babies and ‘weak’ people do. Couples arguing for long periods of time cord. Frustrated bosses and unhappy reports do. Some of the most pervasive corders I have met have been very powerful business men. So obsessed with their work, with so much of their energy tied up in winning power- struggles, they often have no idea at all how to connect with another person when it comes to relationships, so they cord them in an attempt to make contact or get their needs met. Rapists and their victims cord each other, on one side due to the monstrous extent to which they cut off from their own internal life and relieve themselves by attacking others, and on the other side by the enormity of the catastrophic disruption of self that occurs when being invaded by so much hostility and sadism.
There are four basic kinds of cords:
The ones you throw because you are trying to help them. The ones they grab at you with to get something from you. The ones you throw because you feel overwhelmed and hurt by them. The ones they throw at you because they have been trying to avoid some of their own baggage by taking it out on you.
https://sarahgillen.com/ *
How to spot (and deal with) an energy vampire
Energy vampires most often target those who are sensitive and compassionate — and likely to lend a listening ear.
They leave you feeling drained after every conversation. They want your nonstop attention and the conversation is always about them. They may be charming, charismatic and the life-of-the-party personality. They also may cheat. They may lie. And it’s probably someone else’s fault when something goes wrong.
These are some (but certainly not all) of the traits you might run across in someone who is an “energy vampire.”
Some energy vampires may have inherited those character traits from a parent and they’re unaware of how their behavior affects others.
Spending too much time with energy vampires can make you sick What makes energy vampires so toxic is that they can be sources of chronic stress, says Northrup. Especially if the energy vampire is someone you can’t avoid — such as a spouse, a parent or a boss — constantly having your energy drained by that individual is a stressor, she says.
And that type of chronic stress is well known to have pretty deleterious effects on multiple systems in the body, including the immune, cardiovascular, neuroendocrine and central nervous systems.
Evidence shows that people under chronic stress are at a higher risk of chronic problems ranging from autoimmune diseases to heart disease, obesity and depression.
“They’re a health risk,” Northrup says about the energy vampires in our lives.
How to vanquish energy vampires (or at least not get sucked dry)

1. Cut them out of your life (if you can)
2. Set boundaries
3. Lower expectations
4. Be too tired for them
5. ‘Grey rock’ them
6. Know the difference between “venting” and “dumping.”
7. Do NOT overreact
8. Make sure you have a way to reality check
9. Say “no” nicely

https://www.nbcnews.com/bettehealth/how-spot-deal-energy-vampire-ncna896251
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Cutting Ties with Toxic Family Members: An Act of Self-Care By Dr. Sharon Martin
Cutting ties with your family is difficult–and not what most people want. But sometimes it’s the only way to save your sanity and heal the emotional pain caused by a “toxic”* or abusive family.
Cutting ties with toxic family members is an act of self-care. Not something you do because you’re mean or spiteful. It’s something you do to protect your physical and mental health.
When is it appropriate to cut ties with a family member?
Toxic people disrupt your life and other relationships with behaviors such as these:

Lying

Blaming

Criticizing

Manipulating

Overreacting

Invalidating or ignoring your feelings

Undermining your relationship with your spouse, kids, or other relatives

Creating drama or crises

Passive-aggressive behavior (such as the silent treatment, deliberate procrastination, or criticism disguised as a compliment)

Gaslighting (a powerful form of manipulation that makes you doubt your perception of what’s going on)

Refusing to compromise

Yelling, cursing, or calling you names

Belittling your values, beliefs, choices

Gossiping or speaking ill of you behind your back

Making unreasonable demands

Expecting you to help them, but they aren’t available to help you

Threatening suicide or self-harm in order to get their way

Ruining holidays and special occasions

Playing the victim

Not taking responsibility for their own behavior

Refusing to apologize and if they do, it’s shallow, coerced, or fake

Lacking genuine concern or interest in you and your life

Volatile or unpredictable moods and behaviors

Creating so much stress, anxiety, and pain that your health, ability to work, or general wellbeing are negatively impacted

Interacting with them makes you feel worse

They are always right (and you are always wrong)

People can change, but toxic people rarely do. They lack self-awareness and don’t take responsibility for their actions. And since they don’t see how their behavior hurts you, they refuse to change. Instead, they blame you and expect you to cater to their demands.
5 Reasons we struggle to cut ties with a toxic family member
I think we can all agree that no one deserves to be abused. So, why do we give our family members a free pass? Why do we think we should tolerate such hurtful behavior from them?

1. We don’t see their behavior as abusive
   
2. Guilt
   
3. Family loyalty You were probably primed to feel guilty by being taught that family loyalty is a virtue – that you should be unequivocally committed to your family no matter what. Healthy closeness includes mutual respect and care; it respects individuality and your right to think and feel differently than your family. But loyalty is often used to try to control family members who are exerting their independence and speaking out against abuse.
   
4. Fear
   
5. Love
   

Deciding to cut ties
It sucks to have to choose between yourself and your family members. It really does. But this is the reality. Remaining in a relationship with a toxic person is potentially harmful to your emotional and physical health and relationships
Tips for cutting ties with toxic family members
**Acknowledge that it’s abusive. You need to stop minimizing and denying the harm that your family member has caused.
**Give up the fantasy that they will change.
**Grieve the loss of having the kind of relationship you wanted with this person. Grieve the loss of having the parent/sibling/grandparent that you needed and deserved.
**Get support from a therapist, support group or 12-step group, or friend who’s experienced similar issues with their family. (Unfortunately, many friends mean well, but don’t “get it” and inadvertently add to our shame and guilt with judgmental comments or unrealistic expectations.)
https://www.livewellwithsharonmartin.com/cutting-ties-with-toxic-family/
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7 Types of Toxic People and How to Spot Them

1. The Conversational Narcissist Have you ever been talking to someone who keeps interrupting you?
   
2. The Strait Jacket The straitjacket is someone who wants to control everything and everyone around them
   
3. The Emotional Moocher An emotional moocher is also known as a “spiritual vampire,” because they tend to suck the positivity out of you or bleed you emotionally dry.
   
4. The Drama Magnet Some toxic people are magnets for drama. Something is always wrong. Always.
   
5. The JJ A JJ is a jealous-judgmental person. Jealous people are incredibly toxic because they have so much self-hate that they can’t be happy for anyone around them. And typically, their jealousy comes out as judgment, criticism, or gossip.
   
6. The Fibber Whether they tell little falsehoods or major lies, it’s impossible to trust a liar in a relationship. Dishonesty drains us because we are constantly doubting their words.
   
7. The Tank A tank crushes everything in its wake. A human tank is always right, doesn’t take anyone else’s feelings or ideas into account, and constantly puts themselves first. In a relationship, tanks are incredibly arrogant and see their personal opinions as facts. This is because they often think they are the smartest person in the room, so they see every conversation and person as a challenge that must be won over. They rarely see others as equals—and this can be challenging when trying to form a loving connection
   

https://www.scienceofpeople.com/toxic-people/
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Better known as Beacon, Beacon Hill Academy of Hunter-Knights is one of the premier huntsman academies in Hollowmere, alongside Oakwood Academy for Hunter-Knights, The Oasis Academy, and Atlas School of Hunter-Knights. Beacon is the foremost in experimental student eduducation as well as their wellbeing. The medical facilities are cutting-edge, having unique healing spas for facculty and staff use.

• Grandmaster Ozpin: The wizard of Beacon himself, Grandmaster Ozpin is the Headmaster of Beacon Academy, the school in charge of training the next Hunter-Knights to protect the world from the Grimm. There are many legends regarding him, spanning across countless history, especially claiming that he is the descendant of the original Wizard, Merlin, named Ozma. I gave him reincarnation, but I wanted his next life to Roman
  
• Glynda Goodfae: Ozpin’s second in command and Deputy Co-Headmistress of Beacon, High Mistress Glynda Goodwitch is a stern Huntress who only works for the best of the people of the Emerald City of Vale. She may act all tough and gives some tough love, this is only the result of her experiences and the revelations she’s learned from Ozpin. Deep down, she acts like a mother figure towards her students.
  
• Pietro Porter: A warrior from a local tribe, Porter grew up loving battle. To him, it was a sense of glory and ignited a fiery passion throughout his life, and only enjoyed it throughout his growth. Even when it cost him his eye during a battle against Grimm, not that he minded. However, this desire for fight would slowly die out and he’d gain better control of his recklessness, and started a family. As a Beacon professor, Porter trains his students fiercely, while going on about his “glory days”. Be careful when he’s on a mission with you, cause some of that remaining love for combat tends to get the best of him. Consider him OS’s version of Grog Strongjaw from Critical Role’s Vox Machina.
  
• Theodore Liseg "Teddy" Oobleck: (I decided to end up making him a Roadrunner Animalian) A fellow professor of Beacon with quite a fast charm, intelligence, and speaking fast 24/7, Oobleck would always zip around with his extraordinary speed, always one to be chattery in the teacher’s lounge, even if it’s him doing most of the talking. Growing up from Mistral properly educated, Oobleck is always interested in learning knowledge, including magic……Even when he’s not so good at it.
  
• Celestia Peach: Beacons resident joyful, cheery, and exceptionally kind professor and scientist, Peach doesn’t go anywhere without a smile on her face, welcoming any and all students from around the world with her energy. What the rest of the staff are unaware of, is that she and Goodwitch are secretly lovers behind closed doors. She also serves as a therapist, who helps her students when it comes to their own personal struggles.
  

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Julius Cesare Ironwood: Headmaster of Atlas Academy and Star Sentinel General of the Atlas Military, Julius Ironwood is always a man committed to the right cause and Atlas, above all else. A soldier from birth, trained by his mother, James grew up determined and hardened in battle, yet actively works to re-establish relations between Atlas and Mantle, despite facing hardships, mostly from his Arch-Rival Jacques and the higher class elite who look down upon those they find to be below them. Luckily, with people who share his views, Ironwood can always have allies at his beck and call.
Leonidas Lionheart: Headmaster of Oasis Academy and Chancellor of Mistral, Lionheart has been…….Absent. Nobody knows where he is, or what happened to him. Some believe he remains locked in his office, muttering about his “failures” and how worthless everything he has done for, and some supposed prophesied apocalypse. All brought by a “girl with shining eyes, riding a dark dragon”. Whether these words are true, or are just the delusions of a man filled with grief, only time would tell……..
Dominic Gale: The grandmaster of Oakwood Academy and Prime Minister of Vacuo, Dominic is a highly charismatic man who would often mood-swing between calm and chill, to serious and stern, whenever the moment required it. He gets along quite well with Qrow, and almost everyone he meets, (Keyword: Almost.) while others tend to be annoyed by his antics.

My partner and I were together for one year before she travelled to the other side of the world and we became long distance. Its been 8 months and its way past time that we have a vacation together in a country between us. The problem is I live in a country and society where non marriage relationships are taboo. My family knows about us but we keep the sexual part secret. This would be impossible to hide if they knew I was traveling and living in a hotel with her for a week. I’m not sure what excuse to come up with especially since a solo trip is something very obviously not my personality.

for starters I'm a us-img who did med school abroad (obv). I always planned to give the steps, but dealt with a lot of family issues including an abusive household. Eventually went NC, after which I gave step 2 etc but have a clinical gap because of it. I tried to do clinical stuff, but couldn't go for more than a week. Idk what to do. Are residency PDs understanding of such issues? or is this something that is considered taboo (culturally is where I currently am lol)

Looking back upon the last few months of my life, I now feel a peculiar clarity upon the once foggy and suspicious events which have suspended my life for their allotted time. The cause of my suffering is now evident beyond all reasonable doubt. There is a man living in my closet, of that I am certain.
Six months ago, at the dawn of September, I had finally moved away from the safe nest of my mother into my own apartment in a small town just off the eastern sea of North Carolina. Befitting of the small town, my apartment was a quaint place, consisting of only three small rooms; a kitchen, a bedroom, and a bathroom attached to the bedroom. Money had been tight, and any ambitions of scholarly advancement had been snubbed out by the absurd toll it asked of me. I resigned to focus on my work life until I had acquired a suitable amount of savings to pay off college. As for my job, I had chosen to work at the local library. It was a small and mundane place, hardly ever visited by the locals. In truth, the building stood more as a historical landmark than anything else, for many years ago it was deemed historically important, and the government had barred any change in the building's appearance from that point onward. The town praised it as a pillarstone of the community, yet the few employees who worked there could attest that such sentiments were merely hollow praise.
Speaking of my coworkers, there was naught but four. First and foremost was the head librarian, Esmerelda Grimshaw, whom every man with his head on correctly called Miss. Grimshaw. She was a stern old woman, about age 70, yet I never dared to ask her exact birthdate. She had never bothered to marry, for in her own words her “only love was books” and to that, my coworkers can attest. Her knowledge of literature was deep and vast; one could often find her at the front desk burning through the works of Shakespeare and Orwell. I had a certain sweet spot for what many would consider a mean old crow, perhaps due to her sharing a sweet spot for me. She was the foundation of that library and did well to honor its legacy.
After her was her son, Tony, a bastard on all accounts, who wholly disproved the common theory that all apples fell near their tree. A young chap of 17 years, he spent his time finding new and creative ways to waste time and wreak havoc. I wholly suspected that he had been working at the library due to being unable to hold down any other job, with the upside of his mother keeping an eye on his behavior. Despite his apparent behavioral issues, I found the boy to be quite charming and intelligent, approaching ideas in ways I had never considered, he often held the key to a nuanced perspective, even if he himself did not quite grasp this concept.
Attached to Tony at all times was his girlfriend, Lilly, a more straightforwardly bright young girl. Having some of the best grades of her high school, she stumbled into her job through many long nights of studying at the library. After one particularly long night, Miss Grimshaw had reprimanded her with the phrase “If you want to stay here all night, why don’t you just keep a set of keys for God’s sake!” Lilly had obviously taken up this offer as it was in no time at all that she had begun working at the library, where she soon after began dating Tony. The two of them could not be more opposite yet together they seemed natural. Lilly was the best employee of the library, being perhaps the only one to consistently find work to do during her shifts.
Finally was Ted, the man who I firmly believe is the cause of my suffering. Ted was a twisted man on all accounts, the type of person to idolize Dahmer and Bundy, the latter of whom he madly believed to be the inspiration for his name. He worked in the library, yet his home was what I assumed to be the local prison. Having been unfit for physical labor, the jail had resigned to send him to the library, a deal which Miss Grimshaw only accepted after she had been handed a generous donation from Ted’s wealthy father and had purchased a low-caliber pistol to store permanently in her front desk. Of his crimes, I am not entirely sure, yet in hushed whispers between Tony and Lilly, I head all manner of rumors ranging from petty burglary to brutal murder of the first degree. His frame was peculiarly small, standing only about 5’4, and weighing what I can only assume to be under 100 pounds, though I never directly asked. Despite this his presence in a room was rarely unnoticed, and with it came hushed tones and thoughts of immediate evacuation. Even thinking of his odor now makes my stomach churn, he smelled strongly of dead fish and iron, with a third rancid smell unplaceable in my mind. His attire consisted of his prison jumpsuit, which loosely hung over his tiny frame, and a peculiar necklace, colored a freakish red and depicting an unknown symbol that had the faintest resemblance to a fish. Ted rarely worked, yet whenever he did days slogged on, and nobody could ever feel entirely safe, even with Miss Grimshaw keeping a watchful eye, hand always primed to grab her gun.
My first two months living in North Carolina had brought with them a freedom that I hadn’t yet experienced in my lifetime. My journey towards inhabiting this new town was greatly helped by my co-workers, all but one of whom helped me learn the customs of the small town, eventually allowing me to blend myself into its natural ecosystem. In this environment, I was living a thriving and fun life. I had made new acquaintances throughout town and had become favorable to the local university students, which I now planned to attend come the next year. It was at this university I met what would soon become my closest companion: Richard, Dick for short. We had become acquainted through a night of debauchery and alcohol, our bond cemented by sunrise, at which time both of us were in the back of a police cruiser, loudly and oafishly singing “My Heart Will Go On” voices cracking upon every note which could be considered remotely high. The two of us spend a great deal of time together, enjoying our newly found freedom and all the perks of a young adult’s life.
My life looked to be going upwards, and befitting of this trend my apartment had become quite the cozy little place. The walls had become filled with posters defining my interests in music and literature, a few of which were heavily influenced or altogether put in place by Dick. Particularly the poster of Michael Jackson which hung slightly crooked on my kitchen wall, placed one hazy night while I was passed out at the foot of my bed. Dick had shared this interest with me through a conversation about the King of Pop’s ailing health and appearance, remarking how sad the day will be when he draws his last breath. Dick then proceeded to show me concerning and offputting pictures of the popstar, which I remarked looked strikingly similar to Ted. Intrigued by my comment, Dick wrestled all that I had known about Ted that night, eventually turning the conversation onto the local urban legend, the night watchman.
Dick relayed to me the tales he had heard growing up in the town. Tales of a wicked man who had spent upwards of a year living underneath the house of his victim. A victim who he had relentlessly stalked, following them around in public and watching them sleep. Eventually, the night watchman had grown bored and decided to play with his victim by moving household objects around, occasionally stealing the ones he found particularly interesting. The cops upon hearing this, believed none of it to be a reality. That was until they had found such evidence within the house of the nightmarish terror of the night watchman. The case was deemed too gruesome for the public, and the whole matter had been settled privately, leaving the civilians the wonder who the night watchman truly was. Dick then, in a matter which unsettled me deeply, proposed that Ted was the night watchman. Disturbed by this thought, I wholeheartedly disagreed with this horrifying statement. Dick agreed, jesting that he knew Ted wasn’t the night watchman, because he was.
The two of us began to laugh and continued the rest of our night without mention of the night watchman. The next day I woke up and went to work, slightly late and hungover. As I walked in Miss Grimshaw asked me why I was late. I evaded telling her the truth, lying that I had simply forgotten to set my alarm, yet in her eyes I could see she didn’t believe any of what I was saying. As I was leaving to begin my daily cleaning ritual she told me the good news that Ted was finally done working at the library. I asked why and she simply shrugged, attributing it to him finding another job to do, one more befitting of an inmate At the time I agreed, but even then I had already known the truth, Ted was out of prison.
Tony began exhibiting odd behavior following Ted’s leaving of the library. More days than not he would come in substantially late, if he bothered to show at all. When he did show his attire was disheveled and his mind unfocused, his evenings of mischief turned to quiet days, where more often than not he would resign himself to a corner of the library and simply stare. On one such night, I asked him what the bother was, and he complained of a failing relationship with Lilly and problems concerning his house, notably that of the drinking water and the chilling breeze that now freely flowed through the house. He then checked his surroundings, as if looking for an intruder, before leaning into me and whispering in a dreadfully hushed tone about feelings of being stalked.
I was taken aback by such a suggestion and commented that in all likelihood, he was not being followed or stalked by anyone, but was rather just feeling paranoid due to stress. He seemed to believe me, thanking me for my words, yet after our conversation, I could not help but wonder if his words had genuine weight to them. For the remaining time of his employment, he and I would share a few other words, and his behavior would only become worse and more frequent.
My work aside, it seemed that every day my small apartment became more like a real home to me. Besides the multitude of posters Dick and I had placed on the walls, filling up nearly every inch of space on the plaster, the rest of my house began to fill itself up with homely items. Kitchen utensils, foodstuffs, and many other miscellaneous items necessary to a true home all naturally worked their way in over time, giving the small place a cozy feel. I worked my best to never allow clutter to take over the place, but by my nature, it eventually worked its way in. My closet in particular was busy enough to put a minimalist into cardiac arrest, with various clothing items, cleaning supplies, and various knick-knacks scattered chaotically around the small interior.
My apartment had been a safe haven for me, until one day, during my routine cleaning Dick had made a chilling observation. He had noted that a CD he had gotten for me was strangely missing and after spending upwards of two hours looking for the thing, we both found nothing. The strangest matter of all was how cherished that CD was to me. It had been the first gift Dick had given to me, and with that status, I kept it safe in my nightside cupboard, taking care to never misplace it. Dick eventually chalked it up as “One of those things” before we both quit our search in favor of an exploratory night in the town. Upon returning the next night, I once again searched for the thing but never found it. I couldn’t think of it as “One of those things” but my obsession with the search bore no fruit, and I began to think that perhaps it had been stolen by some malicious force. This obsession led to the purchase of a new set of locks on my doors, which I hoped would prevent any further incident.
There was, however a most annoying issue which began to form in my apartment. A mere three months after my move in the water started to taste and smell terribly. I asked my landlord about this and he responded that there was no issue, and if there was it would soon be resolved. His ineptitude and clear lack of care for his tenants made me curse my beloved home, yet my financial situation and sentimental attachment made me cautious of a move, resigning me to simply accepting the oddity.
As November passed and the town became acquainted once again with Christmas cheer and Mariah Carrey, Miss Grimshaw burst through the doors of the library, unusually late and fuming out the ears. She relayed to me that Tony had not only failed to show up to her family’s Thanksgiving party but was flat-out missing from her home. I displayed nervousness for the safety of the boy, and Miss Grimshaw responded, telling me she was far too angry at her son to care about his safety, and that he had plenty of friends to stay with if he chose to run away. I was still deeply concerned for Tony’s safety but did not dare press the furious Miss Grimshaw further.
Upon my next meeting with Lilly, I inquired about Tony and she responded, telling me that the two hadn’t been speaking for the past month and that she had no idea where he was or what he was doing. I relayed the information Miss Grimshaw had told me, and she responded with a mundane voice that she was not surprised, as Tony had begun exhibiting erratic behaviors, eventually leading to their breakup. I gave my apologies for the situation and changed the topic to the Christmas season, lending into a nice conversation about holiday cheer and gift-giving. From both accounts of Miss Grimshaw and Lilly, it seemed Tony had gotten into trouble not too atypical for a boy his age, yet my mind could not resist thinking about his statement early into November, shuddering at what implications it left.
Throughout December, my apartment began showing strange behavior. The CD had only been the first of many objects which would be unceremoniously stolen from me in the dead of night. In total, five objects were taken; the aforementioned CD, a pair of headphones, a polo shirt, a bottle of counter cleaner, and the most striking of the bunch, a kitchen knife. Beyond the thievery, which my new locks had failed to protect against, strange notes began appearing throughout my apartment, left in odd places where they were particularly difficult to find. They had bizarre utterings written repeatedly onto them, phrases such as “The Joys of Peace” and “The Freedom of Falling”. Their perplexing nature led to me asking the landlord once more. He simply looked at me as if I were crazy and told me that if I were truly worried I should call the police. I did exactly that, and after a quick search, they left without finding any hint of foul play. I hoped they were right, and continued in my life, attempting to find a sense of normalcy once more.
This attempt at finding what I had just a few months prior was stomped out by Dick, who I noticed began to drift further away from me. What was once a daily friendship became a weekly facade, where in Dick kept me at arm’s length and left before we could do anything substantial. Our short friendship ended two days before Christmas when the two of us exchanged gifts. I had gotten him a collection of H.P. Lovecraft books, an author I had tried perhaps too hard to get him to read, while he had gotten me a CD, the same CD I had lost in November. As I opened the gift my heart sank, slowly realizing what he had done. I immediately burst out at him, accusing him of stealing the CD only to re-gift it to me. He argued that he had simply gotten another one to replace the one I had lost, but in my anger I rejected his claim and furiously yelled at him, accusing him of stealing from my house and writing those strange notes. He looked at me with a mix of sadness, confusion, and anger, before bursting out that he didn’t know anything about notes or other stolen objects, telling me that I was crazy and needed some serious help. On that note, he left, and in the aftermath, I realized he wasn’t the likely cause of my suffering, and that I had ruined my only true friendship over nothing.
After my tragic parting with my beloved friend, my days began to blur together into one monolith of monotony and suffering. I can hardly now recollect my last weeks working at the library. My time in there now blurs together, yet in this hazy fog, I cannot help but feel disturbed, as if those days were spent in Demonic ritual, my only protection against the act the amnesiac state I had taken following the heinous acts. On my final day of work, I entered the library in a fog, only to be snapped to by Miss Grimshaw, whose eyes conveyed a veritable disgust and hatred for me. I knew what was going to come out of her mouth before she said it, and soon my suspicions were confirmed. She fired me, for reasons still partially obscured in my mind, and on that note, I left the library forevermore.
Depressed and disturbed, not desiring to go back to my home just yet, I decided to stop by a local bar for a drink. As I sulked my way towards to place, I heard a voice spring from an alley I was passing by. The voice called to me once more, and I realized who it belonged to. I turned and saw the face of Tony in the ally beside me. He was wearing raggedy, torn clothing, holding a blanket around his shoulders and chest, shivering all the while. We conversed for a short time about his current situation, in which I learned he was now homeless, having been kicked out by Miss Grimshaw, and rejected by all his friends. As he got closer I noticed his skin looked blotchy and leathery, now hanging loosely over his malnourished face. He talked of his problem, most concerning of which was the continuing fear of being stalked. This time I did not offer any reassuring words to the boy, instead looking at him with glassy eyes. As our conversation ended I wished him a recovery from his horrid situation, in response, he looked and me and wished the same thing, claiming that we were in this together. A perplexing statement, considering the full extent of my misery was not known to the boy.
Upon entering the bar I got nothing but frightful glances from the inhabitants. I took my seat at the bar, and those around me noticeably moved away. After finishing my first drink, failing to strike up any meaningful conversation with the bartender, I paid my bill and headed into the bathroom. It was here while looking into the mirror I realized how ill I appeared. My hair had grown out to an unnatural length, being oily and ratted throughout. My face was thin and frail, its lines now perpetually conveying misery and dread. My body looked the same way, my clothes hung loosely over my frail and unwashed body, I looked like a skeleton underneath it all. I did my business and left, resigning to return immediately to my home, where those frightful eyes could not reach me.
Crestfallen and with much time to spare, I decided to spend a few days organizing my abode, in hopes of finding the cause of its many oddities. I soon realized that the house had a peculiar way of keeping itself cluttered. Days I would spend cleaning and organizing would be unearthed upon my waking the next day. It wasn’t until mid-January that I finally managed to get the place neatly packed up. With no sign of the missing objects, and having found many more strange notes, I was more convinced now than ever that foul play must be present. I didn’t trust the police, so I decided to hold off on informing them until I found something more substantial, a wish that would soon be fulfilled.
It was within my closet that I found the strange trapdoor leading to a tiny room. The door had been hidden with all manner of items, and upon finding it my bones chilled and a tingle crept up my spine. I opened the door to find a small space, barely enough to fit a huddled-up body inside. Lying on the floor in the space, placed in a ritualistic manner, were all the miscellaneous items that were stolen from me, and along with them was a pack of sticky notes and a pen. The walls of the place were filled with the same type of notes scattered through my home, two peculiar ones stuck out, one being a rudimentary map of my apartment with small dots scatted throughout it, and another being what seemed to be a grocery list. The discovery made me frightened, but more so it made me angry.
I backed away from the crawlspace and began ranting and raving, stomping through my home and screaming out threats towards whoever may have been in my home at the time. It made all the sense in the world, if there was one hidden cubby, there very well may have been more. I did the only thing I could think of and threw all my organized mess around, frantically searching for another cubby, one that might’ve had the perpetrator within it. I knew who was stalking me, it was the night watchman, Ted, he had to be the one behind this terror. I screamed threats toward him as loud as my lungs could muster while continuing my search for further hidden artifacts and rooms.
I was unable to find another such chilling abode before I heard a knock on my door. It was two police officers, sent here due to a complaint by my neighbors. I thought them fools for disturbing my important search, and I flung open the door to relay that to them. Upon viewing me their faces twisted into disgust and fright, and upon asking me what I was doing I told them in a cold and callous tone. They were doubtful of my truth, believing me mad just as they had the first victim of the night watchman. I took them to my closet and revealed to them the frightful cubby, however upon viewing the nightmare they looked at me with apparent concern, their eyes betraying their belief that I was the one responsible.
The two officers eyed me down in between glances at one another, before telling me that they needed to take me in for a psych evaluation. I vehemently refused, and when the officer reached to try to calm me down I smacked his hand away and pushed past them both before they could take me away. I burst through my door to find the whole hall peering through their doors towards me, their horrible, intrusive eyes peering through my body and into my soul. I ran as fast as I could, bolting down the steps ignoring the screams of my neighbors and cops as I went. I made it outside, taking a sharp right down a dingy alleyway, running as fast as I could through the shadowed streets.
I lurked in the darkness for quite a while until I was sure I had lost the police. I crept about, I knew I couldn’t return to my apartment, either the police or Ted would be waiting for me when I did, so I decided to find an alleyway where I could make my new home. After much careful creeping about, I did exactly that. It was a damp, dark place, illuminated by neither sun nor moon, I needed that, I couldn’t let them find me. I moved some trash into position to make a suitable bed, obscured beneath the shadows and garbage of the alleyway, and slept, pondering what I was to do next.
My dreams have become a hellish nightmare. Every time I close my eyes I’m back in that apartment, but not where I normally resided, I’m hidden away in that cubby. I hear myself walking about, continuing the life I had just a few months prior. I write notes, some the insane ramblings that push their way into my mind, others warnings to my previous self about his future. Sometimes, I dream of being outside that cubby, lurking about my apartment as my other self sleeps soundly on his bed. I take what I need and leave the warnings where I hope my past self can find them, before resigning once more to my hiding place. There is not a night where I sleep soundly, these insane dreams haunt my rest, reminding me of my suffering, reminding me of the night watchman who lurks ever near.
My waking hours are hardly better. I never move about during the day, I’m entirely nocturnal. I need the cover of darkness to hide me from those who want to take me. I creep about the town, stealing anything that I can use. Houses are easy to break into here, nearly every one has a crawlspace beneath it, a crawlspace I can quietly sneak into and use as an access point for the home. I steal food, clothing, tools, anything that can keep me alive for another day I take as I please. On a few occasions, I’ve been caught in my acts, leaving the homeowners screaming, terrified at merely viewing my putrid form. So far none has been quick enough to catch me, I’m always able to slink away back into the cover of darkness, back where I belong. I’ve sustained myself like this for weeks now, leeching off the sane in a desperate plea to save my maddened self, but in my heart, I know the end of my escapades is not far off.
Occasionally I hear of myself from the townsfolk. Listening in from an unseen position, I hear rumors of the night watchman, of the cursed beast who roams the town at night. In their assertion they are correct, this torment has turned me into a beast beyond all reason and sanity. Occasionally I see myself, reflected in pools of water in the pale moonlight. In those puddles, I see a true beast, one more horrifying than the worst nightmares of man. For the sanity of man, and the safety of myself, I hide myself, as there is no place safe for a monster such as me.