The Great Depression had a significant and lasting impact on society, especially in the Dust Bowl states. Oklahoma suffered the worst and is still suffering from its effects. The stock market crashed in 1929. This was 11 years after the end of WWI when a lot of working age men were killed. My father was 19 years old. Children age 4 and older had to go to work in the fields harvesting and hoeing weeds. My maternal grandmother who was born in 1932 cut broomcorn and picked cotton by hand. The International Harvester for cotton was invented in 1940, but only came into widespread use by 1970. The broomcorn industry died out in 1980. Older boys age 11 and up went to work in sawmills and the trades. Watch the movie Walk the Line. Johnny Cash’s older brother of 14 was almost cut vertically in half when he slipped and was cut through the sternum by a large saw blade. Can you imagine being that young and handling dangerous machinery with no safety equipment? Safety equipment didn’t exist back then and neither did child labor laws. Those old Boomer children worked just as hard as adults to help feed their families. They were punished for playing. They had to suck it up and endure extreme hardship just to eat and they ate very little. Everyone was starving and filthy. There was as no indoor plumbing, no electricity and no air conditioning. I watched my grandmother work from sun up to exhaustion and she slept in her clothes. When she died, her bra strap hooks were rusted from sweat because she never removed it, meaning she hadn’t bathed in decades. She was 4-8” and wore a child size medium. She was conditioned to hard work and starvation. She and her family including my mother never overcame the effects of the Depression. She was functionally illiterate despite graduating high school in 1948.
Education stopped at third-fourth grade for the average child because parents were extremely poor and couldn’t afford to pay for schooling. School was different then. Teachers lived in a teacherage provided by the school district and earned a living stipend from the state to teach grades 1-4 how to read, write, sign their names, cipher, count money and read a watch. That was the extent of free education. Advanced learning after 4rth grade was taught by subscription very similar to private tutoring. Grades 5-7 were called grade school. Grades 7-12 were called high school. They didn’t have Junior High.
In 1935, the Second New Deal created the Works Progress / Projects Administration (WPA) to help people recover from the Depression. A lot of new schools were built during this period. Schools were funded with a combination of state aid and a tax levy called a mill collected from every resident in a school district. When Boomers say they shouldn’t have to pay a school tax because they don’t have children in school, this is what they’re referring to. They had the right to vote against a tax levy. These days, we call them temporary sales tax increases to fund things like new gym equipment. Everyone inside the school district votes on the increase and everyone inside and outside the district has to pay the sales tax if they shop at a store in the district. These no-voters will shop outside the district if the tax increase passes.
Fast forward to WWII (1939-1945) and the Korean War (1950-1953) and we see a significant decrease in school attendance that results in the closure of many rural schools. Many of this second generation of Boomers grew up in boarding schools and orphanages because their mothers couldn’t afford to feed them. This period resulted in a high population of youth being institutionalized. One of my grandmother’s sisters was raped by her uncle at age 14 and was sent to an asylum for the mentally ill. My mother (born 1952) and her sisters were taken by DHS (called CPS today) and sent to a girl’s state school after their father died of cirrhosis at the age of 42. He was a bootlegger who literally drank himself to death. Prohibition (1920-1933) was another result of the Depression. It lasted until 1952 in Oklahoma. Forced sterilization in mental institutions was outlawed in 1951 for the sake of medical study. The practice began in 1931 because the state believed that mental illness/retardation was genetic and caused by incest/inbreeding. It runs in my mother’s family so I can confirm the state was right. Mutations in the brain can be passed from mother to child.
The third generation of Boomers was born during the Vietnam War (1955-1975). I was born in 1973, so I’m technically Gen X with Boomer influences but not to the point that I’m a raging psycho. I consider those born in the 60s to be the third Boomer generation. My town lost its high school in 1968 and stopped at the eighth grade. All those who graduated from the 60s-1980 are the anti education gatekeepers of the workforce that I’m personally struggling with. These are the people who hate anyone with an education level above theirs. They’re offended by education unless you’re a doctor or a lawyer and they can use you. They are also anti-technology and refuse to use it. They are bullies who are socially enmeshed and always in your business. This generation of women married older men because men their age were fighting in a war. Or, they married wealthy men. Those women didn’t have to work and became bored housewives. I blame daytime soap operas for teaching these idiots their horrible social skills. They stayed home almost 24/7 except for when they were at the hair salon or shopping. They wore a lot of makeup too and nail polish contained formaldehyde. The amount of lead and toxic chemicals they were exposed to was very high. My mother was in this category from 1970-1980 when she divorced my father. Men who came home from the war were addicted to heroin and may have turned to cocaine, crack or meth. Many ended up homeless or hooked up with women for the welfare benefits. They were insanely abusive. Very few were able to adjust. Women who did not marry well, had to work cash jobs to support themselves and they might have qualified for USDA commodities and food stamps under Johnson’s War on Poverty (1964). We didn’t have welfare reform until 1996. My mother became an alcoholic and was addicted to amphetamines sold as diet pills in the 80s. We had pure meth from 1980 that my stepdad was addicted to and an explosion of brown meth from 1994 to the present. Almost this entire generation and my own Gen X either experimented or became addicted to meth. It affected Millennials too.
Child prostitution as a means of survival and CSA were common during the Depression because there was no law against it and it’s something society has difficulty grappling with. Oklahoma passed its first anti-child molestation law in 1945 after the end of WWII. I remember those old Boomer women saying that talk about sex was vulgar and those matters weren’t discussed. It was swept under the rug until 1990 when teens finally began to speak out. We had an explosion of violent rape and domestic violence in the 90s by Boomers and chauvinists who couldn’t bear to give up their right to sex on demand and beating women.
We got the Department of Education and mandatory attendance in 1980 so Gen X was the first generation to have a well rounded education since 1929. All the generations that came before us are jealous because we also got child labor laws and the statutory rape law. We’re the first generation that didn’t have to endure backbreaking work as children. We got easy jobs like paper routes, babysitting and mowing. As teenagers, farm kids hauled hay but that’s about as strenuous as it got. Many Gen Xers got pregnant young and had to drop out of school or couldn’t go to college. They had to get married and raise a family. I’m struggling with this portion of my generation being jealous as well.
I think Gen Z is the best generation because they are so far removed from the absolute hell that previous generations went through. They have the best education, the best social skills and are the most well adjusted of all the generations that came before them. Gen X just needs to teach ya’ll life skills and survival skills that you can hand down to Gen Alpha.

This week's book club list is as follows (enjoy reading and comment which your favourite is below):
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1. "Zero Limits: The Secret Hawaiian System for Wealth, Health, Peace, and More" by Vitale J., Len I.H. - If it seems like you work hard but never get anywhere, maybe the problem is something within you. Maybe the limitations holding you back come from inside you, not from the outside world. Zero Limits presents a proven way to break through those self-imposed limitations to achieve more in life than you ever dreamed.
2. "The Probiotic Solution: Nature's Best-Kept Secret for Radiant Health" by Mark A., Dr Brudnak - In The Probiotic Solution, Dr. Mark Brudnak states a greater truth: "Disease begins from an imbalance in the body." Good health is a dance on the tightrope of balance. Lose your balance for long enough-and you plunge toward crisis-if not death. Find and maintain balance-and you can enjoy the fruits of a happy, healthy life. It's the law of nature.Whatever causes imbalance, causes ill health-be it cancer, heart disease, autism, diabetes or obesity.
3. "The Bible secret of divine health" by Gordon Lindsay - In this book is revealed one of the greatest secrets of practical living found in the Bible. It recognizes Divine healing as God’s promise for the believer but—and this is important—it goes further. Much teaching on Divine healing misses the profound truth that God intends that his children should not be sick at all—that they should prosper and be in health even as their soul prospers.
4. "The Low Carb Myth: Free Yourself from Carb Myths, and Discover the Secret Keys That Really Determine Your Health and Fat Loss Destiny " by Whitten, Ari; Smith, Dr Wade; D, M - Do Carbs Make You Fat, Hungry, and Lazy? Read to find out.
5. "The Secret Language of Your Body: The Essential Guide to Health and Wellness" by Segal, Inna - The Secret Language of your Body is a comprehensive guide to healing. In this long-awaited book, Inna Segal unveils the secrets to understanding the messages of the body and reveals the underlying energetic causes of over 200 symptoms and medical conditions. This powerful handbook explores almost every conceivable part of the human body, delving deeply into the possible reasons for problems in any given area of the body and offering a unique, step-by-step method to assist in returning the body to its natural state of health.
6. "Ikigai Diet: The Secret of Japanese Diet to Health and Longevity" by Sachiaki Takamiya - Are you interested in natural food, organic lifestyle, or macrobiotic diet? If so, this is a book for you. It has the most recent information on traditional Japanese dietary culture. If you want to be healthy, the optimal way is to model the best of the best in the field. Who are the healthiest people on the planet then? Well, Japan is considered to be the country with the longest life expectancy, and it is featured in many books including The Blue Zones and Ikigai.
7. "Dumping Iron: How to Ditch This Secret Killer and Reclaim Your Health" by P. D. Mangan - How to Ditch This Secret Killer and Reclaim Your Health is a game-changer in health and fitness. The accumulation of excess iron in the body, a condition that affects perhaps the majority of adults, leads to much higher risk of heart disease, cancer, diabetes, obesity, brain diseases such as Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s, and shorter lifespan. Dumping Iron shows how to measure your iron levels, what the test numbers mean, and how to go about lowering iron if necessary.
8. "Breathe Smart: The Secret to Happiness, Health and Long Life" by Aaron Hoopes - Learn the secret Yoga and Tai Chi masters have known for centuries and discover one of the most fundamental dimensions of good health: proper breathing. Breathe Smart shows us how, through deep, conscious breathing we can raise the level of oxygen in the body and reap the benefits of increased energy, better health, and a stronger sense of well-being.
9. "Ancient Secret of the Fountain of Youth Cookbook (Simple, Delicious Recipes for Health & Longevity)" by Devanando Otfried Weise - This book is excellent for those who wish to embrace Food Combining i.e. what has become known as the Hay Diet. It is where one avoids mixing starch-based foods and protein-based foods in the same meal.
10. "The Calcium Factor: The Scientific Secret of Health and Youth" by Robert R. Barefoot; Carl J. Reich - Did you know that scientists have found that cancer thrives in an acidic medium, but cannot survive in an alkaline medium? Did you know that with vitamin and mineral supplements, you can lower the acidity of your body fluids and become healthy? Here's a challenge: If the answer to any or all of these questions is "No", then you owe it to yourself to read The Calcium Factor, not only for the sake of your own health, but for the sake of your family and friends.

So, which one are you picking up next or have read? Let us know with a comment and upvote and share this post and our sub bodychemistry to stay tuned for more reading lists every week!
Love, marmalada

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I think to me what's most disheartening about this Quagmire of a situation is that most people are just aligning with their historical patterns of political/religious/racial/national identities and biases.
Which is not surprising because I just basically described the entire history of the human race and how we generally lean one way or another when it comes to conflicts and beliefs.
I think you know true impartiality is pretty much impossible and that's probably a whole super long discussion about how we even arrive at truth and reality and what pushes us in different directions.
I just it really makes you very depressed and forelorned at times just to see most people reacting as you would expect.
Like most of my social media friend circles are Lefty anarchist types and they pretty much are like fully on board free Palestine movements and busting out the watermelon emojis and all the all these kinds of things which to me is like the the 2024 version of the BLM black/blank profile support solidarity thing.
Of course now that you read that last paragraph you probably already thinking oh this guy is already revealing his cards of where he stands.
Basically my position is leaning pro Israel pro peace pro equilibrium pro stability in the region. This is a departure from my long held leanings of free Palestine because of all of my radical backgrounds and volunteering for things like food not bombs and all this sorts of things in Portland.
I basically am leaning this way and open to shifting of course at any time given new information and new insights, but the two main sticking points for me are what follows:
1.) Wary of the regressive left element within the free Palestine movement that is and on par for the course given the conflict. What worries me is the toxic othering prejudice and often scary anti-Semitic rhetoric coming out because of this. The narrative of the support for the "brown Arab oppressed people versus the white facing European ancestry colonizer Jewish people Israelis". It's alarming.
2.) Wary of extremist radical Islam jihadist intifada sentiments messaging and direct calls to eradicate and harm a people group and a nation. This last point I think doesn't get enough airtime in some circles and this is nothing new and has been a concern of mine for many years, and is often maybe overlooked or people are afraid to bring it up even because it looks like it's bigoted or racist or whatever. But to me it seems like this is why we are in this position most assuredly. You swap out Hamas with some other Hardline Fringe religious group and I don't think you get the same results. There is something uniquely dangerous about a religious Fringe element that promotes martyrdom and jihadism. Ain't nobody ever had issues with Buddhist extremists on this level. Or even Christian extremists on this kind of level, although there have been pockets of hate and othering of course from almost every group of people/ideology in our sordid human history.
Like even I've been trying to track just in the comment sections of let's say various kinds of YouTube videos from all different perspectives and I keep coming back to this weird unsettling feeling when I see a lot of pro Islamic things and from accounts that seem like they come from an Arab origin. Like I just don't know if you can reach common cause and common ground with that sort of extremist ideology, it seems pretty baked in on a deep level. And that's the the real issue in many ways because religious fundamentalism just breathes a kind of lack of discourse and lack of understanding because you can just refer to your book and what all the people around you are saying and shut down your critical thinking skills.
I think a case example of someone like Salman Rushdie.
Dude wrote a book in the late '80s and he got a fatwa set against him...(Which speaking of that it was hilariously satirized in Curb, I'm surprised Larry David also doesn't have a Target on his back at this point).
Then apparently the state sponsored assassins were called off in the late 90s and Rushdie return to some kind of normalcy and interacting with the world.
But then last year he was stabbed on stage at a talk in Chataqua New York, and was almost killed. He actually lost his eye as a result. And the use of his hand.
And as you can imagine the guy who stabbed him wasn't just a random crazy person.. he had Islamic background. He's a Shi'ite Muslim from New Jersey, just 24 years old. Gen Z generation of extremist.
Put another way.. what is the percentage or total number of folks that have a Islamic Arab Middle eastern background that are actually pro Israel?
And then along the same lines how many folks with a Jewish background or connections are actually pro Palestine?
Cuz to me one is not like the other in this regard, and my hypothesis is that the Muslim Arab tribalist group would skew predominantly one way that I think we all can assume is for the free Palestine movement.
Whereas I think the Jewish Community has definitely some elements within it that is more peaceful negotiation and not so caught up in their religiously motivated perspective. This could be because you know maybe a lot of the Jewish Community is leaning more secular or they come from Western countries and all this sort of thing but like I just I don't think people are realizing the fundamentalists difference here in the factions.
I guess my question is how many people have switched historical sides over this conflict right now in the spring of 2024?
Is there something from either side that made you go oh man I need to reevaluate my whole position on this and lean one way or the other?
Or even when I think what is probably more profound and supportive of the general conflict would be to be also aimed at a third way out above The fray if that's even possible. because a third way out often makes me feel like I just need to stay out all together and let people that have a much better idea of what's going on engage.
That last part is really key I think because all these folks are throwing in their positions when they may only have an understanding of like 5% of this thousands of year old conflict. The more I dig into it and ask questions and talk to people the more I feel even more lost and it seems like an unwinnable and unknowable thing.
🙏🕊️🙏

I've been playing my first journeyman save in FM. Normally I pick a team and manage them to greatness, or, you know... give up and start a new save.
This year I wanted to try something new and it's been great! I started as a sunday league footballer with the most basic licence to be a manager and jumped into the job market.
First job was Dalkurd from a neighbouring city in Sweden. They were in the third tier of Swedish football, and I took them over as they hovered on the brink of relegation. First seson I stable the ship and get them to a top half finish. Second season we get promoted to the second tier.
First season in the second tier, after some good recruitment, and we're fighting for promotion. Last match of the year we need to win to secure promotion. We lose... but so do the second place team. Off to the top division we go.
During this entire time though, the board has adamantly refused to give me any new coaching badges. We're maintaining a decent position in the top division, but half way through the season it comes to a point, and I threaten to resign unless they can grant me funding to improve my coaching badges. It ends with me resigning and looking for a new job.
It takes a couple of weeks, but in July 2026, IL Hödd in the Norwegian third tier offer me a position. They have a lot more money than Dalkurd did, I'm guessing it's all down to the oil.
IL Hödd is in a decent league position, I think their old manager left them rather than them firing him. I spend a bit of their money and get them some good, younger players. I manage to win the third tier in my first season with them and get promoted in 2027.
I sign some good players in the winter transfer window and decide that maybe this will be a long term project. They've also granted me a few coaching licenses so all is going well.
Then, in the summer of 2028, Bristol City wants an interview.
Now, I've been trying to make "realistic" decisions so far, and Bristol City are offering a lot of money. Also, they are in the Championship so it's a big step up, and will let me get a foot in the English league. With a heavy heart, I accept.
The Bristol City squad is full of old players with an attitude, and it's a bit of a fight to get them out of the club to free up wages and money for a transfer budget, but in the end I win and start the rejuvenation process. The marquee signing though, is a loan of Lucas Bergvall from Manchester United.
I break the transfer spend record in my first summer transfer window, €14.5 million spent, but I get some quality players in who are in their early to mid 20's in, with potential to improve.
The club situation is helped in part by a decent FA cup run where we end up beating Everton away 1 - 0, and in January the transfer total is up to 21 million euros. It pays off though, and Bristol City secures a top spot promotion to the Premier League, led by player of the year Bergvall, goalkeeper of the year Alex Palmer, and manager of the year, yours truly.
The Premier League, 2029/2030, the hallowed lands. I strengthen the squad buying Alfie Dorrington, a promising English centerback from Tottenham for four million. I secure Bergvall on a permanent deal and pick up a French wonderkid midfielder called Emmanuel Lebreton for a total of €60 million euros, an insane amount of money compared to my previous transfer windows. The both end up carrying the team for me, well worth it.
The Premier league is a different beast. We struggle a lot this season, sometimes it looks like maybe we'll get relegated but finally we end up in a solid mid table finish after some tinkering with new tactics. The high point of the season though, is the Carabou Cup which we manage to win, in part thanks to some unlikely wins, along with a lucky draw. This means we qualify for our first European adventure.
2030/2031 - Europe
At the start of this season I find the two best players I have found so far in the save: It's spaniard Angel Cañedo and frenchman Nicolas Duboc. Together they form a fearsome partnership with Angel on the wing providing assists to Duboc who can't stop banging the goals in.
It's another rough season in the Premier league, but we're never in the relegation fight. We're solidly upper mid table at this point. The Conference League goes amazingly and we end up winning the whole thing without any real issues, beating Roma 8 - 2 on aggregate in the semis, and Real Hispalis 4 -1 in the final.
2031/2032 - Europa league
This is the season where the plan is to push for champions league. The squad is ready, and the youngsters have become more mature. A few signings bolster the holes in the squad, but then, right at the end of the transfer window, Bayern swoops in an pays the release clause for Angel Cañedo. 109 million euros. It's a bit of a blow, and I can't find a good enough replacement before the transfer window ends.
The season does go better though, we're starting to make a claim to the top four spots, and the Europa League is going well.
Then Atletico Madrid fires their manager and asks if I want to take over.
I've built something special with Bristol City, and honestly, both the money and the players I have are way beyond what Atletico can offer. But it's a big club and a tempting offer, and a chance to rebuild something of a sleeping giant.
With a heavy heart, I resign at Bristol City, wish them all the best, and join Atletico Madrid.
2031/2031 The Atletico Madrid retirement home.
Holy shit, what have they been up to? The star of the show is 32 year old Fèlix, the rest are around the same age but not as good. Chilwell and Jurien Timber are decent but getting up there in age. They have two decent young players, and a minimal transfer budget to start the cleanup operation.
The new manager bounce is real, and I get them from 12th to 4th in relative short order. Barcelona seem untouchable, as well as Real Madrid, but the rest of the league is there for the taking.
They are in the champions league as well, and it goes alright and we qualify from the group in spite of a few losses from before I took over.
But then things fall apart. We lose at home to Benfica, 0-3 in the first knockout leg. We lose five games straight in the league. I try different tactics but nothing works and it's starting to look bleak. Morale is plummeting, then finally I stumble on a recipe that works and manage to claw my way back to the Champions League spots just in time for the season to end.
Now it's the first summer transfer window after I took over, and I am looking forward to rejuvenating the squad and see how long it will take until I can challenge Barcelona and Real Madrid for the title. I got rid of 35 year old chilwell and replaced him with an argentinian wonderkid from Leeds who had a relegation release clause. I sold Jurrien Timber to saudi arabia for 62 million (fans were very upset). I wish I could get rid of Félix but I expect the fans would have my head for that.
It's starting to look alright for the next season. The rebuild has started, and I expect I will stay at Atletico for quite a while.

Here. And I’d like to start by noticing that Steve Sailer is obviously Delicious Taco’s dad. Having said this.
Good episode. Lots of engagement which I suppose is a net positive for all involved. Obviously a lot of the injury stems from a distortion. The episode’s content fantasized and in fantasy warped into something constituting a threat (no, an outright assault) to the listener’s person. One can simply listen to the episode and see that some (in fact the bulk) of the negative responses are from people reacting to some spectral absent-presence rather than to what is actually being said over the course of the 2 hour long episode. The voices and the discourse have instead been shaped into sonic receptacle containing the reflection of something wildly ugly. Injuriously ugly.
Past few days have been brutal. Found myself doom-viewing the main sub, should know better at this age. Feels like I’ve been transmogrified into an absurd and wretched thing. Must've transgressed against a gnome or something. Fascinating to think about.
I would like nothing more than to shame you.
Miami Summer is a killer. Urine is blood-orange. And my mother deserves better sons.
Why would A&D do this?
Witnessing the rankest comments. In bygone age I’d found them tolerable. Having imagined them delivered by high society homosexual. A damned dandy; chubby, sinister, and flamboyant. Capri on a stick limply held between index and middle fingers, twirling wrist ash’ing on expensive Persian rug. The blurry ghosts of his mother and the kid brother who drowned in the pond all those years ago glaring at him from far-off corner. Clearing throat he launches into sing-song slander head peeling back cackling at his own wickedness. Vile and venomous but charming. Instead what we get is 30+ year old mentally-ill men. Men whose Twitter activity has atrophied their cock and balls. Genitals withering away like the Worker's State, in its place a gasping cloaca, worry not I can clock em from miles away. The odious cloaca-havers are soon joined by ruined drug-addled children and the other women. They talk about A&D in disgusting ways. This is unfair and nasty. I confess to being angry. Sweating blood-specked kerosene. Let the scent fill up the empty air between us. My wrath singeing those overgrown nose hairs.
Of the two I think Anna is the one that inspires the harshest parasocial spite. So much so that I’d recommend she take some protective measures against evil eye and tongue. Maybe take baths with hyssop herb, rose water perfume, and holy water.
It’s as if Anna Khachiyan is a Giant Floating Vagina with teeth and a noticeable overbite. Viewed from another angle it transforms into a Madonna encircled by cherubim. Perhaps we are cruel to Anna in order to be kind to our mothers.
All very pre-Oedipal.
Had to step back and parse it out. Anna draws a comparison between herself and Sailer while also asking him a great question,
07:12-07:49
Anna: “I started reading it during the pandemic because it was the pandemic. I was pregnant and bored and I really relate to you as a person who everyone thinks is like evil and monstrous on the internet, but is actually like quite agreeable and mild mannered in real life. And I was going to ask you this question last, but I may as well just ask it now. How do you feel about your new found popularity? And especially, how do you feel about the fact that you have been effectively adopted by or identified with the hard right?”
The first part of the above extract, the sympathetic recognition, brings to mind a bit of 20th century Hermetic theory concerning harmful thought-forms. Our unconscious self-destructive impulses animating the fantasy-phantasm of the other. Inhabiting their shape. Gaining a degree of autonomy. This artificial entity is vampiric by default, provoking what the Czech magician Franz Bardon calls a "magical persecutory complex"... He goes into detail about such entities in Step VI of his seminal work, Initiation into Hermetics. Describing different types of artificial elementals and phantasms along with details on how to consciously go about creating and dissipating them. One of those artificial psychic entities, the one that concerns us, he calls the schemata. Bardon details two variants, one connected with paranoid persecutory fantasies and the other with erotic obsession. The first type comes about when someone who is “easily excitable, easily influenced or self-important” (Narcissist?) has a run in with another person who has, to put it mildly, a memorable visage and dark personality. The schemata is born from the phantasm modeled after this demonic-looking disagreeable person. The victim begins to attribute all kinds of minor inconveniences to the influence of the ugly person. Deludes themselves into thinking that the ugly/disagreeable person is a powerful black magician. Everything appears to reinforce their paranoid delusions. The schema grows in power feeding off the anxieties of their creatohost. The person might end up committing suicide. This was the persecutory schemas desire, having achieved its goal Bardon notes, “how great is the shock when such a spirit realizes on the mental plane that he has committed a very successful magical suicide. What a bitter disappointment! The demonic looking person, however, has no idea what happened; he was actually only the means to an end.”
God gave us eyes so that we might notice things.
The way I see it:
Being social animals the subject of our fantasy, of our fixations, is the fantasy of the other. What makes the human Human is not that we desire but rather that we desire the desire of the other. An excess desire. We fantasize about what the other is fantasizing and enjoying. Our fantasy of the fantasy of the other is the outlines a fundamental lack within our person, a negativity. Experienced as a splitting of consciousness. Intuiting this lack, becoming aware of it, and attempting to articulate it, we are self-consciousness. This negativity or void is in psychoanalytic terms, the unconscious. We likewise intuit that there had once been some original state. One without lack and contradiction. A state of fullness, without the division between self and object. A harmonious whole. A pure consciousness or as Freud refers to it in Civilization and its Discontents an oceanic feeling. The Original Desire, one that is authentically my own, which was not the desire of the other but which unites our desires in itself. This desire is the extinction of all desires.
The eye that perceives the lovely is at once the eye that perceives what I lack. Perceiving this lack, which explains my present condition, I covet. This is an evil eye. The lover’s gaze is of the same type as the infirm or pathic gaze. Reminded of Zizek’s formulation of one of Hegel’s insights, “Evil resides in the very gaze which perceives Evil all around itself" itself a variation of Meister Eckhart’s “the eye through which I see God is the same eye through which God sees me.” The recognition of evil, the ability to see and judge evil, stems from our ability to recognize disparity. This disparity is already present within our own person, the split-consciousness. The feeling cognized, the awareness of our condition as beings separated from the whole. The clairvoyance of the tyrant and the philosopher.
Suppose that psychopathology is born from our inability to recognize an image as an image.
I intuit something more in this person, something they’re hiding. It can’t just be envy, no. It has to be because I can feel that this thing they’re hiding is sinister. It can’t just be that I feel animosity towards this person, no. It has to be because this person is evil and not just an isolated evil but rather a symptom of a much larger evil. An evil that is responsible for all the suffering in the World, for why my World isn’t the way it should be. It can’t just be attraction, no. It has to be that I intuit something more in this person, something hidden, that I must destroy in order to go on living.
If vile shit comes to mind (as vile things often do, especially when one is immersed in ambient algorithmically-summoned vileness, namely outrage and atrocity porn) they won't affirm it to themselves or try to justify or rationalize it or present it as a rational political stance. And they don’t abstract this particular form of vileness into the primary lens through which they view and interpret cultural phenomena. Unreflexive racial animosity is ugly and fetid. We’re capable of recognizing it, feeling it, as something pathological. We’re also capable of laughing at it. Laughing at ourselves. Look at what our ladies have to say about Stuart Seldowitz (the dude who went viral harassing a halal street vendor) in I’ll Be Missinger. “He sucks,” “he’s a loser,” “he’s obviously sick,” and that he gives the impression of someone who lives alone, will die alone, and will be found weeks or even months after the fact.
Perhaps Red Scare is special in how it manages to elicit absurd, wildly inappropriate responses from listeners. Vulgar and revelatory was it? Steve Sailer elicits a similar response and has become an expert in turning said absurd reactions to his advantage. Generally the cooler-head in any given exchange. While the other person shouts obscenities at a ghost, smashing fists against the post, looking crazy, like a proper hysteric. Sailer breaks the fourth-wall, making eye-contact with the would-be noticer, with a little shake of the head, a little chuckle, a little shrug… “you’re noticing right? See what I have to put up with? Imagine these people defining my legacy.” Still he seems to take it with the good humor of an uncle who will still call you on your birthday, despite your drunken outburst during holiday get-together he will admit to not having resisted the temptation to provoke you, it use to be fun, recall all the cool bands I introduced you too? We use to be best buds, “do you really think anything I’ve said merits this sort of response? Honestly?”
Has to be a cheap trick. A technique employed by an old trickster in decades long honing of craft. Maybe not. Maybe what we see is precisely what we get. Most of the very upsetting things being jokes sincerely intended to lighten the mood. Steve Sailer doesn’t care about the particular political orientation of his audience. He just cares that he has an audience. Grateful for the fans he has. Nonetheless happy that they’re not seething malcontent racists. Even if one disagrees with the methodology, the heuristic, the conclusions. That’s secondary, perhaps even tertiary to the recognition sought. His craftsmanship as a writer.
Why I loved his conflict with Will Stancil. Stancil inspired a lot of pondering for me. Putting things in place…
01:29:22-01:29:28
Anna: “You come for the race science and stay for the prose-styling and vivid story-telling.”
In trying to survive as a writer exiled from Mainstream Conservative media (ConInc) during the Bush Jr years. In fact, correct me if I’m wrong but the cancelation that actually impacted Steve Sailer, setting him down the path we find him in, was brought about not by blue-haired hall monitor millennial leftists but by his “fellow” Conservatives. I imagine that he just went with whoever was willing to take him adapting to the editorial standards and audience sensibilities of the publications willing to provide him succor. Not charity mind you but an ability to engage in his own little labor of love.
Read some Sailer. Might get into that later. But that’s the initial impression I got from Steve. Would be utterly mortified if memorialized as a Racialist Ideologue rather than as an entertaining and thought-provoking journalist. Think I also benefited from seeing how he’s actually received by people who are navigating through (or in certain cases, are mired in) the marginal “Hard Right”-spaces or the Rightwing Digital Ghetto. End up realizing that he isn’t hateful, that what you see is precisely what you get, that he privileges craft over ideology, that his reception and exile from Neocon dominated media outlets (remember these are the people gushing ecstatic over the US invasion of Iraq, manufacturing consent for our adventures in the Middle East) was exceedingly unfair but that he nonetheless managed to persevere. And that he really never goes beyond Norm McDonald in terms of his sardonic wit or The Boondocks animated series in terms of his criticisms. His normality is a great source of stability and comfort for his readers; “noticing” and speculating about these topics doesn’t necessarily lead to one becoming a seething racist.
Returning for a moment to Will Stancil, this was what he inspired:
As the last man standing I spend countless hours immersed in detailed fantasies about the coming apocalypse and my enemy's bliss. A dumb and wicked happiness proportional to my suffering. Easy to imagine other people happy. Hearts unbroken. Unburdened, hydrated, sexually satisfied, debt-free, lucky, successful in all business endeavors. Brute, jezebel, schemer, parasite, rival, betrayer... the whole lot of them thriving. Frolicking in my mind's eye. When the time comes I won't forget that they were happy while...others...suffered.
Find that trying to void your mind of all thought or sit perfectly still for 10 minutes. End up feeling like something requires much less energy from us than nothing. Causes coalescing. Conspiring, to what ends?
You see. The very same principle appears to be at work here. Same pathological base that undergirds genuine racial or ethnic animosity. Fantasizing about the other’s enjoyment and being unable to distinguish between the persecutory Phantasm and the actual human being whose shape it appropriates.
Had a friend recommend forgetting. Forgetting is a dialectical exercise, first you have to acknowledge the thing living rent free in your head and acknowledge its origins... then you have to take the steps to stop feeding it. Letting the thought-form dissolve. Let it be put to rest. Reminded of the practice Orthodox Christian contemplatives call Nepsis.
Other approaches as well, acknowledging the presence of anima veiled in shadow.
But listen…
The podcasts I consume, are a reflection of me as a person. Being what I associate and consume. What does it say about me in particular? Reveal about me? That they should have Steve Sailer on the pod. Settling down. Perhaps some responses could be understood in this light. That a Sailer episode reflects poorly on the listener. Constituting a great betrayal of the love and energy and time I have dedicated over the years to you.
I’m not a racist.
Show me your likes on Twitter and I’ll tell you who you are. The most punitive and brutal god. The idea of the AI nu-god being this, utilizing that standard, is horrifying. Show me your likes on Twitter and I’ll tell you who you are, everything you are, and whether or not you qualify to live.
Shamed, I quietly remove the upvote I gave to the hysterical person and the downvote I gave to him.
Hysteria like a yawn is an empathic contagion.
Back to Anna it’s not because she’s ugly and it sucks that she might nurse this delusion. I actually think Anna is really pretty. Rather I think it’s because she’s a mom. She registers as a maternal figure. That’s one of the reasons I think people respond to her the way they do. As stated earlier. We are cruel to Anna in order to forgive our moms.
[To be continued: Wherein I say horrible things that should never be said to the people I claim to love. Will also interrogate Sailor Socialism]

The EXTREMELY detailed, mega-anxiety edition!!! Major events like consult and surgery day are labeled like this:
——— EVENT TITLE ———
Surgeon was Dr. David Whitehead and I saw him on Long Island (New Hyde)
Summarized list of major dates:
Consult: July 19 2023 Mental health letter acquired: August 9 Dates discussed: September 12 Pre-op appointment: December 18 Surgery day: January 8 2024 Post-op: January 17
November 11th 2022: Emailed northwell health for the first time, they emailed back saying to call. I was too anxious so I avoided it for a few months.
Called northwell a few months later but got too anxious talking to the person who picked up. They were being normal and talking normally, it was just personal anxiety on my part.
October 2022 - Early March 2023: Spent time talking to trans friends and family members about their timelines and processes for top surgery.
Looked into Penn medicine for a bit but wasn’t happy with the surgeons there, specifically as a nonbinary person. The patient navigational team however is lovely.
March 2: emailed Penn health patient navigation
March 3-10: correspondence and phone calls w patient navigation (absolutely wonderful people, some of the easiest phone calls I’ve ever had) Got lots of into on surgeons, things I’d need, processes etc.
Date unknown: phone call to Penn medicine asking about surgeons and possibly setting up as a patient (v long wait time on phone) Surgeon I had heard good things about only works w CHOP program and I’m was too old for that program. Other surgeons I was v iffy on.
March 23rd: Back to square 1. Called northwell again to set up an appointment. Everyone I spoke to was really nice. Could have set up an appointment within the week but decided to wait till the end of the semester. Scheduled a trans care and primary care appointment for May
Couple of calls In between for confirmations. Trans care appointment got moved around a bit and ended up being moved to a phone call.
May 8th: Trans care call: Basic preliminary questions like: Emergency contact, what you’re looking for, are you thinking of looking into hormones, experience w dysphoria or dysmorphia, mental health, and eating/nutritional concerns, things you might want doc to know, piercings or tattoos, do you do any drugs or drink often, etc. total call time was about 20 minutes. Doctor was incredibly kind, I still experienced a good deal of anxiety but the call was super easy, welcoming, and friendly. Got sent contact referrals for the surgeons, as well as trans-friendly therapists under my insurance.
May 9th: started looking at list of therapists and making respective emails and calls. Checking per session costs and double checking insurance. Most charge 100-150 per session. Got in contact w one.
May 10th: Called w first therapist talking about what I’m looking for, where I am in this process, if parents are supportive, and talking about costs. She was very friendly and affirming, wants to have a few sessions to get to know me and my situation before writing a letter. Understandable and expected, but frustrating.
May 15th: Primary care appointment: Went to northwell health primary care, parkinglot was a little scary (just a large lot with a lot of cars) but everyone working there’s is super kind. Office is incredibly affirming, pride flags and lgbtq+ art everywhere. Gave my insurance card, filled out some paper work, got called in pretty quickly. I have a needle phobia and medical trauma so I was panicking a bit in the office, nurse was good w me about it and doctor was very kind, I just requested to not have any blood work done that day and that was totally fine, so I could schedule that at a later date and go w a friend. Recommended to get blood work done before scheduling a consult w a surgeon. Also prescribed me a single dose anxiety med for the bloodwork which I was very happy about. I found over time that the anxiety meds unfortunately do little to nothing for my panic attacks personally when it comes to needles but regardless having a doctor acknowledge and respect that fear and listen to me was incredibly helpful and reassuring.
May 30th: Got blood work done in a different lab, went w a friend. Scheduling for that is super easy, I think I did it online actually I don’t entirely recall. they do take walk ins but I made an appointment to minimize complications and make sure I could prepare properly. Front desk/lobby area was a little spooky, but I think that is mainly just bc of my social anxiety. They take a urine sample, you give them your prescription, eventually they call you over for blood work. Quick and easy, tech was v nice and having a friend with me was incredibly helpful. Probably the best I’ve ever done with a needle despite the fact that I did still panic and get very lightheaded lol.
Got blood work results back within the next couple days, all looks a-okay! Neat :)
June 15th This day was incredibly difficult. I had my first session with a therapist to establish some ground knowledge around my dysphoria and the way that I view myself. Top surgery is something that I know from research and related experience Can be difficult and expensive to get and can take time, so much of my prep work has been on the understanding of taking things a step at a time and just knowing that the current way things are doesn’t have to be forever. It allowed me to be able to live with myself while prioritizing my health better. This read to the therapist as “not having the level of dysphoria [she’s] come to expect and look for in someone who is trans” and was largely based off the fact that I don’t want to go on hrt. Past that point I started to break down because now my method of learning to live with myself felt like it was actively going to work against me and prevent me from getting top surgery. I’m not good at talking about my dysphoria, I can’t imagine it’s easy for anyone, especially to a stranger I just met. It was rough, and I felt incredibly mentally drained after ending the session.
June 19th Called it quits with the first therapist, I felt incredibly disrespected and the one session we had put me in a mental spiral for days. It can feel some times in this process like the people you have to get permission from need you to be severely depressed and unable to wait another second for this procedure just in order to take you seriously.
After I left that therapist, I immediately got back to the list to find someone new. Spoke to a new therapist via email, but my insurance is kinda weird (Blue Cross Blue Shield out of state) so its off putting to some people. This therapist recommended I go through the office she started out at (Heart and Soul Counseling)
————- Time Skip ——————
IM BACK its time for some record keeping. Got super overwhelmed and lost the energy to document my process for some time so here goes.
HEART AND SOUL COUNSELING: My experience w/ this therapy office was mostly good. The person in charge, Jesse, was absolutely lovely and responsive. Never spoke in person, but any text/email interaction was prompt, respectful, and kind. The office is stellar with email/text communication, so I only ever had to call them once when I was initially inquiring about the office. This is something I wish all therapy/counseling centers did better, eliminated a ton of my anxiety and hesitation to speak to therapists.
I got set up w someone as quickly as possible and established what my goal was (to acquire letter document for my surgery team). I attended multiple session w the therapist, she was a kind lady but the sessions were unfortunately p miserable for me. We didn’t fit well, but I was willing to stick it out rather than backtrack on my process. She also did not invalidate me or accuse me of not being trans which was a major step up from my first therapy experience. Once I acquired my letter I did stop therapy there, I kindly explained to the therapist that it wasn’t a good match, but I may honestly explore my options at the office in the future. Receptionist there was also lovely and they had a cool fish tank.
———- CONSULT STARTS HERE —————
July 19th: CONSULT!!! My mama and I went to Dr. David Whiteheads office for a consult. Parking was a nightmare so I’m super glad I didn’t have to drive for this one (ty mama). Consult went really well, and the staff were all super friendly. Dr. Whitehead is cool, very chill energy and a bit intimidating, but I’m scared of everyone so that’s nothing new. First question he asked me is what I wanted/what he could do for me which caught me more off guard than it should have? I didn’t realize going into this process how many times people ask you what you’re having done even if it’s already written down, because there’s so much variety in what you can look for in the results.
We talked about the procedure, went through a slideshow n stuff, and discussed how I wanted a flat chest w/ no nipple preservation. They made sure to specify that my mental health professional letter had to include that I did not want nipple preservation because thats technically a “non-standard” appearance. Also had the first breast exam I’ve ever had in my life. Can’t say i’m a fan (not that I need to worry about that anymore!) Took pictures n measurements n such, and also discussed recovery supplies and care w me and my mom.
August 9th: After a plethora of painfully awkward therapy sessions, a decent amount of crying, and a couple breakdowns in friends cars/backyards, I got my therapist letter and sent it to the surgeons office. It ended up needing minor revisions to which I contacted Jesse from Heart and Soul and he got me the revised letter immediately. Unfortunately the surgical coordinator was out of office for the rest of the month the next day ;w;. Is how it be.
September 12th: Got a call from Surgical coordinator mid-painting class that I stepped out to take. Started discussing surgical dates!! She was kind enough to email the dates to me which was lovely because I was absolutely shaking/mind blank haha. There was an option for January 8th which felt like an absolute miracle the way it would work with my school schedule. It would give me a solid two weeks recovery time before spring semester began. Because it would be a couple months out, I was asked to contact her in the second week of October to submit documents to insurance.
(Timeline note: earliest date offered was in early December)
October 10th: Documents sent to insurance, predetermination started
October 30th: Received mail from my insurance approving my procedure as medically necessary (YAY) But! This is also where things get,,, fun! Dr Whitehead’s surgical coordinator, Alyssa, is a blessing and was very helpful and prompt with me despite the fact that I had to email her pretty constantly during this general time which I still feel bad about.
Around this time, my mom got diagnosed with breast cancer, which I reported to the surgical coordinator because it influences my family history (grandmother also had breast cancer). It was asked that I get genetic testing done because this could impact my surgical procedure. Now I’m handling the setup on this between helping my mom in her process setting up consults and considering her options because there of course is a lot of crossover to the steps I’ve already completed and am familiar with.
November 1st: Very kind person at cancer genetics calls me, sends me a family history questionnaire to fill out before I can be scheduled to see a genetic counselor. Filled out the questionnaire the same day.
November 8th: Called cancer genetics to check about scheduling, office was not open so left a message. Got a call back later in the day. I have a virtual appointment with a Genetic counselor Tuesday the 14th. Current plan is a mailed saliva genetic test but I’m going to ask if theres anything I can do to get results/materials quicker. If I can’t get results/feedback by December 8th my surgery date may get deferred.
Trying not to stress too much because there is little to nothing I can do about this, and I just don’t want to be sad. I’ve kept telling myself throughout this process to not get excited and not let myself believe anything is solid because something could happen at any time that might mess up my schedule or plan, and If I convince myself I’m in the clear, those changes will hurt a lot more. So far I think thats been a good move, because this really sucks.
My surgery date is still officially scheduled as of now as well as my first post-op. I will also ideally have pre-surgical testing done December 18th should I be cleared by genetics in time (Fingers crossed!)
ALSO! Def lean on friends if/when you can during this process. It can absolutely be challenging, and having a support system is incredibly important and helpful. I’m super lucky to have really lovely and supportive friends that are around to listen to me and send me pictures of stupid little animals.
November 9th: My mama is scheduled for her double mastectomy on December 4th
November 10th: Did some shopping with my mama for recovery supplies for double mastectomy/top surgery. Having watched a million and a half transition/top surgery videos and tiktoks and having read all the blogs and posts and tweets makes you a great support for someone suddenly faced with an upcoming double mastectomy! We might go shopping this weekend for some button ups and zip ups for her, clothes shopping is better done when you can try stuff on
November 14th: Meeting w genetic counselor: Victoria Webb, one of the loveliest medical care workers I’ve ever met. Had a virtual appointment with her to discuss and set up genetic testing. I explained to her about my situation w the proximity of my surgery and tight deadline as well as my willingness to do a blood test instead of a saliva kit to get results quicker. She was so incredibly kind and good with me, ended up being able to do a saliva kit and get results in time she deserves every good thing in life.
December 18th: pre-surgical testing: This was at the main hospital, everyone was really nice but I had a really bad panic attack despite being on Xanax.
The process is sort of like getting a physical. Measurements like weight and blood pressure get taken, lots of preliminary health questions. The people working with me were really kind and I was very open with them about my anxiety, it was visually apparent though anyway because I started crying the second we even started talking about the blood draw.
Once the equipment was actually brought into the room I started to panic. Both of the women working with me were really kind and helpful and tried to distract me and keep me talking the entire time, but I did still have a really horrible panic attack. Every muscle in my body locked up and I lost all my color, took a bit to get back to a spot where I could move and talk properly because my speech was affected too. It was a bit scary but funny to think about in post. Thanked the medical staff for being patient w me as always, a good portion of the anxiety is also guilt about making things harder for them. Got through it tho. Def eat before presurgical if allowed, I didn’t and that probably didn’t help!!
———- SURGERY DAY ————-
January 8th:
Ok so surgery day:
This day was very scary. Got my phone call the Friday prior for my surgery time which ended up being 1pm and I was asked to arrive around 11. Got there at 10 and went in at 10:30.
Called up to check in then in waiting room till someone brought me back to change. I told her right away about my anxiety with the iv bc that’s legit all I could think about. Got changed right after. I was generally shaky and a little disoriented the entire time because I was panicking but everyone was very patient with me. Clothes and belongings go in a bag in a locker and you get two gowns one that faces back and one that faces front. I was given underwear and a pad as well because lucky me I got my period a couple days before my surgery.
The pre-op area is a lot of little cubicles with curtain divider things, blue soft chairs, and medical equipment. Everyone I met and spoke to was very kind, but any time someone even suggested starting my iv I would panic. I was informed it would have to be placed in my hand and that terrified me, I’m especially anxious and sensitive about my hands and fingers. I think doctors and nurses tend to misunderstand exactly where my fear is with needles and ivs. It isn’t the pain that scares me, but the concept of veins and and anything being in them. Even writing this right now is horrible so I’m going to stop w any further detail. I spent the entire two-ish hours of pre-op absolutely terrified about this iv.
I wasn’t really keeping track of time but dr whitehead came in to do markings for surgery. They had cool rainbow socks on,big fan. Having your chest drawn on and just like, moved around n shit is such an experience. Felt bad because I kept losing my balance but doctor Whitehead is cool and I am 98% less scared about them now.
Probably my most favorite person I met during my entire hospital experience was the anesthesiologist. I know he told me what his name was but I couldn’t focus on or retain information at the time. He told me we could essentially put me to sleep with gas before putting the iv in and for the first time in probably a solid week I felt like I could calm down a little. He took a look at my hand and arm to check my veins which always does freak me out a bit but I’m more used to that kind of thing at this point and I know nothing bad is going to happen. One of the nurses came in with the iv equipment and he let her know that were going to wait till in the or which was also incredibly helpful because I absolutely panicked when I saw that little supply kit again.
V nice lady brought me into the or, I’d never been in one before it was cool. They had a little music speaker which was really cool. Took off blue jacket gown and they helped me onto the table. They put a warm blanket over my legs and my chest to help me calm down. Before long they gave me a mask w fun happy sleepy time gas, they let me keep my arms on my chest for a while which was really nice because I was still scared. I started getting loopy pretty fast but I still heard when someone mentioned where the iv equipment was and panicked a little because of that. I remember feeling them take my hand for that but never actually felt anything happen. Just some fear but the gas was v helpful obvi. Someone said they would see me in a little bit, and then I was groggily waking up in recovery.
Recovery was a little rough bc the iv was still there (fully wrapped up so I couldn’t see it though which was rad) but I was still really anxious about it until it was taken out and when it was taken out. For anyone that struggles w this i did not feel them remove it, just the tape. Everything was mentally much easier after that. After a while, going over instructions w parents, a cracker , some ginger ale and some juice, my dad helped me Get dressed and I was helped out to the car in a wheel chair. Ride was smooth bc of remaining numbness and meds except a few Bumps in the road
TOP SURGERY GOTTEN
My post op date was scheduled for Jan 17th and that’s the day I got my drains out followed by several post op check-ins. First week of recovery was miserable but things exponentially approved each day past that, and I went back to school in person two weeks post-op with driving and item-carrying assistance from friends!
Will upload recovery notes at a later date! Feel free to message me with any questions, more than happy to answer and give info! I’m a bit over four months out from surgery now and thriving 🥳

Hi, I'm 20, and weight around 96kgs right now and around 167cms tall, and want to atleast lose around 20-25kgs, which would be around the ideal weight for my height, coming back, I've never really exercised before, as I was never taught how to, we don't have PE in schools/college either and they always only forced us for studies, which led to me gaining a lot of weight due to inactivity and then stresss from school and being a gamer, I'm doing my masters right now, and I only want to look and feel better about my myself and my body before the end of it, I don't hate myself, but the chonkiness is racking up, and it's interfering in things :/
I'm on holidays till June, thus taking the decision and being serious about it now
So, first thing I need is a workout schedule or plan to strictly follow it, and constant reminds and consistency
Second thing I need is a diet plan, or knowing what to eat, what to avoid, such and such, I come from a South Asian family, so most of our diet is carbs, and i heard that's not good 😬 I'm also partially vegetarian and find it hard to find protein sources or a diet which makes the needs met
Thirdly finding the right times for meals, and time to workout, like if I should do intermittent fasting or not? and how I can figure out what works best for me?
I do want to lose it fast if possible, as I can probably try to maintain it then, because it's very easy for me to gain the weight back, and I want to lose it and maintain it!
Any recipes, remedies, tips, or anything, feel free to share, would be very much appreciated!! 😊
also if anyone just wants to be friends and share and remind progress, i would really love that as well, thanks again! 🫶

Hi there everyone, I kind of curious, I have been writing a crossover fanfic in the style of Super Robot Wars storylines. One of the Franchises I want to add is RWBY, however, I never really got into the series until playing Blazblue Cross Tag Battle and during his time I started read up on the series on various wiki pages.
So, if I'm wrong on any details or something does seem to match the character's personalities, please tell me!
In this point of the fanfic, it took place after my idea of an ending to the series, so here goes nothing!
The white haired huntress explained why she feels this is the case, telling them the story of her younger brother and his road for redemption.
For the longest of times, Whitley had nothing but hatred for his older sisters and saw the hunters and huntresses as below him, mocking Weiss every moment he had while she was under house arrest. Escaping from this sham of a home, she swore the boy and their father were nothing but monsters and for their actions were things that she never could forgive. That is until it was after the arrest of their father and their manor being invaded by Grimms that cracks were showing in his facade of pettiness.
"During that fight, Whitley wanted nothing but to run off, until he saw our mother fighting against the Grimm before falling from the underuse of her Semblance when he knew he needed to help."
After saving Willow and learning from their mother that Whitley was as much of a victim as anyone else that the middle child chose to mend their damaged relationship. During the fall of their home Kingdom of Atlas, he continued to help by having all the SDC Saircrafts to save anyone and everyone to relocate the people to Vacuo. When the Team RWBY and Jaune return from Ever After, he became part of the attacking forces as a commander to help defeat Salem's forces.
In the final battle, He was present to witness Ruby Rose and Kairi sparing the now depowered and mortal Salem, who was told to simply live with reminders of her sins haunting her until the day she died, as this was her last life. "While we watch Salem leaving to parts unknown, I thought Whitley was going to say something foolish, but to my surprise, he only watched.
In the four weeks after Salem's defeat, Whitley began his new life but it was something to adjusted to as he worked a part time job and began to start classes in that first week The heir of whatever remained of the SDC let his hair grow out slightly, he may have been inspired by a picture of Jaune's appearance during his time in Mistral but still kept a very clean appearance.
It wasn't until a week ago that there were some Jacques' old associates from Vacuo wanted to give Whitley the position of CEO of a new company, one named Phoenix Ash.
"At first, I thought he just wanted to go back to his old ways of life when he agreed to the deal, Asked from me was to trust him about this..."
Out of the blue, The new CEO of the Phoenix Ash Group called for a Public Announcement. Weiss and Winter were watching on a monitor in an aircraft outside of the city. Fearing for the worst, that he would be making empty promises to make a postive public image, the boy spoke of ending the practices of abusing Fanuas workers. This was a lie that their father made to the press when he was alive, before the young CEO spoke of his new idea.
When questioned by the Press, Whitley told the world that he his idea was to start finding better sources than just Dust to rely on, so he would put his own Lien that he held on since childhood to fund this research. If this research was successful, then he would personally see to the closure of all Dust Mines under the Pheonix Ash banter but threaten that if any of the Fanuas workers were harmed during his time as CEO, that under his leadership that he personally see it that the abusers' paychecks would go to their victims and repeated offenders would be fired as quickly as possible. The two sisters begin to noticed that four of The Board Members who hired him were in shaking in their boots.
"Young Sir, please think of the words you speak..." one of Jacques' remaining associates on the board begged to hopefully conviced the boy to reconsider these ideas
"I am fully aware of the words coming from my mouth as much as you were aware of letting my father's actions slide so you can make more Lien. So, to be quite blunt, SHUT IT OR FIND NEW JOBS!" This wasn't like the boy they once knew while Jacques was thriving, he was a new Whitley Schnee that wouldn't be swayed by the idea of making Lien in dishonest ways and wouldn't allow anyone under his leadership to harm the Faunus workers.
"DAMNED BLEEDING HEART BRAT, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE JACQUES, THE REAL HEIR OF THE NAME OF SCHNEE!"
The oldest board member, a muscular bald man of over fourty who was still extremely loyal to the deceased CEO of SDC, charged at the youth with a knife! The youngest of the Schnee clan knew there would be risks, but didn't have any fighting experience to counter this attack.
"WHITLEY!" Weiss cried out as she knew she wouldn't be able to stop the would be killer's attempt of assassination, however, a certain green eyed Faunus, who's loyalites to Robyn Hill last to this day, arrived in enough time to stopped the youth's would be killer.
"You really think that Fiona Thyme would let you kill your new boss? As IF!"
Within a mere set of seconds, the man of three hundred and something pounds was on the ground, each insult that was aimed at the girl was countered with his former boss nodding for the girl to wack the creep across his bald head. This last for a couple of minutes until the police to take his sorry ass to jail as well as charging the Faunus with a minor crime. The girl knew that there would no way to escape but chose not to surrender as she put her hands behind her head much to the cheers of some in the crowd.
However, In those five seconds before the cuffs closed on her hands, The CEO jumped off of the platform and stood in between the messy haired Faunus girl and the arresting officer, slapping the cuff out of the man's hands to the shock of the world. When asked to step aside, the boy's answer to this was something everyone in Remnant, who were either in the crowd or watched from afar from their scrolls, never expected.
"You're really asking me to step aside, so you could take away a war hero's future? I choose to refuse for we all know these charges against her are nothing but baseless. She fought on the side of various heroes! Heroes ] from the Battle of Beacon, like the Teams: RWBY, JNPR, SSSN, FNKI, ABRN and CFVY, the heroes without teams like Lady Kairi, Qrow Branwen, and Taiyang Xiao Long, Heroes like Ilia Amitola and the Belladonna clan who were once White Fang members but left before the assassination of Sienna Khan and return to fight to stop the once peaceful group when they saw what it became under the command of Adam Taurus, heroes like the remaining members of the Ace Operatives, who fought their own feelings of sadness when they lost Clover Ebi and came together after they realized James Ironwood was in the wrong, after the man fell into despair because of how the upper class saw the innocent victims in Remnant and used Atlas as a ram to prevent the Grimm from gaining another advantage point. These groups of heroic and wonderful people came together to save the world from the forces of Salem, so why can't we, the civilains they protected, do the same?!"
There were some mutters from the civilians that watch on the ground level before one of the rich members of the crowd, a man named Harry Marigold, brought up that Weiss may have saved the world but of her crime of summoning the Grimm at the charity event at Schnee Manor should be held accountable before the youth counter with.
"The crime that night was one in justified anger when you, Harry Marigold, who ignored her sadness and only wanted my sister's attention for bragging rights, that damnable trophy wife, her weak minded shell of a husband, the former CEO of the SDC, myself and many others of the Upper Class chose to cruely mocked the recently deceased of Vale and proudly laughing about the deaths of the many innocents of the fallen Kingdom who had nothing to do with the fighting. fates we claimed that civilains deserved!? If anything, she didn't summoned the Grimm to harm anyone but wanted us demons to understand that life is not to be taken as a joke or anything to not to be take lightly. The real crime that night was that the Grimm didn't caused more damages to Schnee manor and not having the monster hurt any of us because of our cruelity to the dead! But because the CEO of SDC cared for nothing but his public image, when she confronted that scumbag for our actions and for using her as a prize toy for everyone to see, his only reaction was to slapped my sister across her face and denied her Birthright!
This made the rich members of the crowd uneasy, as they knew that they were being put in their places. They wanted the youth to be silenced but he continued, angry and filled with something that he should've had a long time ago, a frightful sense of Justice.
"For too damn long, I was blinded by my family's name, not knowing it was nothing but an evil curse and if it wasn't for my sister's actions that night and the night her team and the remaining members of team JNPR saved the lives of my poor mother and the sorry shell of a person. I, too, would've remained under the very same spell of ignorance that the old fool relished in to keep us in line. So, for you to order me around, to use my sister justified attempt on the upper class to see her honorable view on life so who could silence my words, and to force this maiden, who has fought harder than anyone here because fearful paranoia bigots using unjust hatred of every Faunus to make her life a living torture device, for her to rot in a prison cell without a fair trial, just for saving my life? That command is UNFORGIVABLE!" The boy screamed loudly and in pure rage so everyone could hear his plea.
Fiona was in shock, she heard from various communities of the Faunus that the SDC and clan of Schnee were nothing but monsters, worse than any of Salem's Grimms. Even after meeting the huntresses of Team RWBY, she believed Weiss was the only one of the family who wanted to set things right in the world.
Even through she hated the idea to keep an eye on the Schnee heir, even if it was a jobn from her trusted leader. His father and the fellow members of the Board in the SDC saw the Faunus and wanted nothing but for them to be trapped in cages without futures, But to see with her eyes, the very son made to follow in these footsteps of selfish desires, meaning every single word that left his mouth, these words that were filled with a justified desire to save the young girl from an unfair fate, was so unreal.
"If anything, it was the wicked ideas of greed that the deceased CEO held dear tt were one of the many factors that broke our world, Jacques Sc..." The boy stopped for less than a second before continuing in anger.
"....Actually no, I refuse to allow that bastard to my family's name any longer, even in death! Jacques Gélé was never a father, he was nothing but an unredeemable thief without a sense honor, who used dirty lies to trick my dying grandfather into his once humble life, the honorable man that should've had the right to lived long enough to prevent the future Gélé wanted, Nicholas Schnee!"
"Who used my recently deceased mother's, Willow Schnee, love and trust to steal a company he was never worthy to rule over from underneath her. When she learned of his deception and his lies in their sham of a relationship, the once loving and carring mother only means to escape from his wicked virus was to drink her sorrows away and seclude herself from the world!
"His sickness was something that their three children were not immuned to as he saw nothing from us but to be used as pawns so he could gain more power! It wasn't until we learned better ways to live by others, others who actually cared, that we actually became good people!"
"The first of us was to learn this lesson was The Soldier who proven herself time and time again, who enlisted in the Atlas military to get away from the sickness that Gélé took pleasure in, who leaders knocked the views of hatred for the Faunus and the usage of cheap tricks out of her, my oldest sister, Commander Winter Schnee!
"My second oldest sister, Huntress Weiss Schnee, who learn of the shame that her family name carried at her time in Beacon, who was forced to leave after the battle by Gélé for supposed safety only to be paraded around as a prize trophy daughter for his friends in the upper class, who felt the sting of venom when that man refused to accept her heroic heart, forcing her to escape his maddess so she could continued helping those who were suffering!"
"And then there's myself, Whitley Schnee, the boy who was so scared with the various changes to his home life that he chose to follow in that thief's footsteps, who once mocked the dead of Beacon along with the others in the Upper Class, who has never fought for anything and even in that last battle, was so powerless to prevent more tragedies for befall those he commanded to fight on his behalf! The boy who's heart is filled with so much regret because of his idiotic choices in life but is now filled a newly found sense of Justice, who only goal now is to find a cure for the poison, so he could, no! will make our world a better place than it was in the past!"
The crowd was stunned thar they couldn't help but to stay silent.
"Gélé has cause so much suffering to the Faunus and to many other communities. That suffering spread in the Kingdoms like wildfire. When my grandfather died, so did the fairness and honor that the Schnee name held on to....but not anymore! MY DREAM is to stop the suffering that Gélé relished in so he could live like a damn lazy king!
Whitley then put his hands behind his head and told the world.
"So if this girl goes to prison, so will I! All I asked of those listening is not to cheer no matter what the outcome is, not to cry for this foolish boy who has fought for nothing, but to simply think about his words and the weight they pull!" Whitley's blood was boiling as The puppet CEO's bight blue eyes widden to show everyone that his dream was one that the boy will work for through his pain.
After this decree was finished, everything was slient before the officer asked. "Would you die for that dream..?"
Whitley, answered with all seriousness. "If I die, then I would gladly die with a hundred stabs to my heart and soul to make damn sure that my dream becomes reality." The officer waved to another cop to bring in a second set of handcuffs, much to both cops dismay.
"Alright, I'm sorry. Whitley Schnee for disobeying a officer of the law, you have to come with us."
Whitley said not a word as the cuffs latched onto his hands. As if to respect the boy's wishes, There were no one in the crowd, maybe even in Remnant, cheering about the arrest of these two, even though the boy said he had nothing but hatred of those that surround Gélé mocking those that died in Beacon, none of the them wanted nor could cheer, for to celebrate this would be nothing but hallowed.
On route to the department to put the two in the holding cells until they could make bond, the two talked, mostly it was Whitley asking the girl a thousands questions of the culture of the Faunus, the life she lived before becoming a war hero and so on. The poor girl was shaking with overwhelmingness but snapped out of it when Whitley explained something to her.
"This is the second time you saved me from the door of death, thank you, Lady Thyme."
Fiona was slightly confused before slowly piecing together that in the final battle she rushed to the location of downed aircraft, where a gravely injured woman layed under some debris being protected by her white haired son with a mere wooded stick he found on the ground screaming. "GET AWAY! YOU GRIMMS!" before being knocked backwards and then being held by his throat.
"HEY FANG FACES, I'M MORE OF A CHALLENGE THAN THOSE TWO!" The Fanaus screamed while the Grimm let the boy go to blocked her attack.
"KID! TAKE YOUR MOM AND GET OUTTA HERE, I CAN'T HOLD THIS GUY OFF FOREVER!"The boy nodded as he grabbed his mother and ran off, not knowing that he would plan to thank the maiden the next time they meet.
"No freaking way, you're that boy?"
"Yeah...but I'm not proud to admit that I'm not one for fighting." Whitley smiled as this surprised the girl.
To think, the meek boy she saved that one time and the guy who wanted to help others despite his family's reputation were the same person? How would this day become more of a weird fever dream?
"Hey you two, I hate to burst this bubble but ready for a fight, there was another vehicle besides ours that was on their way to the department." A male's voice explained when they noticed a man in a grey cloak sitting in the darkest corner of the vehicle.
"Before you asked, I've been here for the entire trip."
"Why is that important?" The only woman of the three thought while the Schnee youth figured it out.
"That ghoul of a Board Member?"
"'Faid so, he was taken in sometime before your speech and there are only two holding cells in the department, one for men and the other for women." The man explained.
"I could use my semblance to hold him in a..." Fiona was stopped when the mystery man continued.
"...And to prevent any escapes, the cells and those cuffs on your hands are laced with anti-semblance tech."
Fiona screamed. "OH CRAP!"
Whitley was shaken but kept cool as he thought. "I guess as this is a smaller scale city, I should've figured as much."
"Are you actually prepared to die for your ideas?" The man asked the boy, but his answer was simple.
"I'm not planning to back down now, to betray those words I spoke earlier, would be a wicked sin."
Meanwhile in an aircraft a little ways off. Both Weiss and Winter were dumbfounded by their brother's speech and actions. "He has changed so much since weeks ago." The middle child thought before Winter demanded the pilot to land that at the port nearest to the city.
Yang, Kairi, Jaune, Ruby, and Blake were on the aircraft but was confused by the sudden change of directions, before the commander explained. "The Board member that tried to killed our brother was sent to the holding cell in the department before Whitley's speech."
"OH CRAP!" Ruby and Weiss screamed as they thought in dismay that the boy was going to be in an one sided fight against a heavier opponent.
"Please hold on for a bit longer, Younger Brother..." Winter quietly whispered as the Aircraft was going as fast as possible to their destination.
Upon arriving and being settle in the two holding cells, it was when the guards left the redeemer was being used as a punching bag for the man's humiliation.
"DAMN BRATTY ASSED PUNK!"
"UGHHH!" Whitley groaned, being punched for a hour, his clothing became ragged and bloody.
"LEAVE WHITLEY ALONE!" Fiona cried out at the tallest in the men's holding cell, she was in the womens' holding cell that was across the room, luckly for her, she was alone in the women's side but not for Whitley, making things worse is that the guards were sent out on an emergency call, as their thinning numbers were sent out because of a few bomb threats elsewhere in the city.
"SHUT IT, SHEEPIE! I GOING KEEP BEATING THIS BRAT UNTIL HE UNDERSTANDS HIS PLACE IN THE UNIVERSE!"
"..." The man in the hood remained quiet as he watched this uneven fight. "You should stay down..."
"...As if I would..." The Schnee boy rose back to his feet through he knew nothing of throwing punches he refused to surrender just to spite the former Board Member of Phoenix Ash.
"HEH, for a skinny brat, you're stubborn, be a good little boy and admit that you're nothing but a puppet then I'll quit your rightly deserved beatings!"
Whitley regained his balance before flipping a bird claiming. "You...really...think this..puppet would let some smug ass with no respect for anyone but those in the Upper Class to order me around? SCREW....YOU!" The boy yelled spiting blood onto the man's ghoulish face to annoy the monster in human flesh.
"...WHY YOU LITTLE MAGGOT!" The man was even more enraged now, as he punched the stomach of the younger male causing the boy fall onto the cold floor.
Fiona was horrified as she witness the former spoiled prince rose back to his feet.
"Still standing boy?"
The youth was still standing to a point, until the man pulled a dirty shiv he found in the holding cell while waiting for this very moment. The two youths' eyes widden when they saw the makeshift weapon of sharpen hard plastic.
"...A weapon!?" Fiona cried out in dismay.
"Some poor sap must have made this sometime ago, makes me wonder where he could be now, anywho while I am slicing into your flesh, Whitley, I'm going tell what I thought of those pretty little ideas of yours."
The Faunus was in a state of fear for the young puppet CEO as the shiv user quickly sliced into the white haired youth's shoulder, with this the first time being cut, Whitley scream in pain.
"AHHHHGNN!"
"FIRST, YOU WANT TO FREE THE ANIMALS FROM OUR CAGES, THEY HAVE NO RIGHTS TO A FUTURE IN OUR SOCIETY!
The next was a stab on his left upper leg, luckly not hitting anything vitals as makeshift blade of sharp hard plastic was pulled out and blood dripped onto the flooring The boy's screams of pain echoing through the empty department.
"NEXT, WE CAN'T MAKE ANY LIEN IF BLEEDING HEARTS, LIKE WHAT YOU'VE BECOME, ARE IN CHARGE OF THINGS!"
The attacker then sliced the right side of Whitley's face leaving a scar under his eye.
"THE FACE OF THE BOY WITH A NAME THAT NOWS MEANS NOTHING TOTHE WORLD, USING TRUTHS TO PISS ON THE LEGACY THAT JACQUES BUILT, JUST SO HIS SON COULD REBUILD THE HONOR THAT IT HELD WHEN THAT WINDBAG WAS STILL KICKING! WHAT FREAKIN DRIVEL!"
then a slash across his chest.
"THAT BLEEDING HEART OF YOURS WANTING REDEMPTION SO HE COULD HAVE SOME ATTENTION BUT GUESS WHAT THERE'S NO SUCH THING IN THE BUSINESS WORLD OR IN THE REMAINING KINGDOMS OF REMNANT AS REDEMPTION!"
Then the right hand of the boy, the one Whitley pull in front of his body in an poor attempt to grabbed the makeshift Shiv.
"THESE HANDS OF A SOFT SPOILED LITTLE BOY WHO, EVEN IN THE LAST BATTLE AGAINST THE GRIMM FORCES, NEVER THREW A PUNCH OR SLAP ANYONE, ARE SUPPOSED TO CHANGE THE WORLD, ALL YOU HAVE DONE IN THAT BATTLE WERE ORDERING SOLDIERS TO FIGHT FOR YOU, SOLDIERS WHO SHOULD HAVE SEEN WHAT YOU'VE BECOME!"
Finishing this rant with a punch to the gut, and mocking his braverly. "TELL ME THIS, BOY? WHEN THIS SPINE OF YOURS GREW, DID YOUR STUPIDITY DOUBLED, BECAUSE COMPARED TO YOUR DAD, YOU'RE SUCH AN DOLT TO BELIEVE YOUR OWN CRAP!"
"WHITLEY! STOP, YOU'RE KILLING HIM!" Fiona screamed as the man got on top of the boy's body and punch the white haired youth's face twice before the monster yelled at the girl.
"I SAID SHUT IT SHEEP! YOU MAYBE A WAR HERO THAT I CAN'T PUT MY HANDS ON BUT YOU'RE GOING TO WATCH AS THE HOPES OF THIS BOY DIES ALONG WITH HIS BODY!"
Getting off of the beaten body of the Schnee, the man let Whitley try to get up before the boy fell on his stomach and the man grabbed the white hairs of his his head and pulled his face up, so the redeemer would look into Fiona's green eyes for a last time, one filled with tears.
"ACTUALLY, IT'S FUNNY, BECAUSE OF HER STATUS AS A WAR HERO, THE SHEEP WILL GET OUT IN THE END OF THE DAY AND BE ON HER WAY HOME, BUT YOU JUST HAD TO PLAY HERO AND FOR WHAT, WHITLEY SCHNEE?! FOR YOUR REMAINS TO BE MY PUNCHING BAG UNTIL I TRANSFER TO PRISON?....IT'S SO FREAKING SAD THAT I'M LAUGHING MY ASS OFF!"
The redeemer, who's face full of buises, forgotten that this is the case for minor first time offenders but didn't care at all. Ever since Fiona saved his and his mother's lives that day, he would've happily be arrested and be beaten, time after time, so he could thank her. He wanted to smile, to show his savior that he was happy with this outcome, even this meant that his life ended today, but could barely move his face but the only could wheezingly chuckled as tears as swell from his eyes
Before the man could finished Whitley off, a small blackout happened as the doors of the cells opened, Fiona ran to the boy who risked his life just so he could to talk to her. "WHY?!" Fiona cried she held the youth in her arms. "WHY CAN'T MONSTERS LIKE YOU SEE THAT THIS A NEW WORLD, THAT WE CAN BECOME BETTER THAN WE ONCE WERE." The green eyed girl demanded anwers but the man just mocked to anwered the Fuanus.
"Do you think animals like you could understand that only the strong and the Upper Cass are the only ones who have the right to control Remnant. He could have been one of those in control and still have enough Lien to be someone important but he chose to ally with the lower class, and for little lamb he paying for it, dearly."
Putting the boy's head gently on the floor wiping the tears on her sleeve, to hopefully keep friend she made safe for a bit longer, she attempted to use Pocket Demisions to rid the world of this demon, only to realize in the middle of her attack, the power returned and because she ran to help the youth, that she was in the men's holding cell with the real beast.
"....No!" She wimpered.
"Looks like there's some of my fellow board members of Phoenix Ash are still on my side." He smiled wickening as he began to explain their plans. "You see, little Sheep, we figured the boy has a bleeding heart, so to get rid of those childish wishes to loosen our hold, we decided yesterday to make up a plan, the one that you had to prevent. So during that little speech of his, we made a second one on the fly." He continued as he put his hand on an earpiece. "...That one being the threats to distract the guards and that little blackout. Plus thanks to this little device, my semblance to increase my strength with every attack I give, still remains."
"This can't be...." She was scared, as this man that she could taken down a few mere hours ago, was telling the truth when every step he made while approaching Fiona made small cracks in the flooring.
"Damn it, We going need to cause another..." A voice explained though the earpiece before he turned off the equipment's sound option.
"Now, since you annoyed me so much, you're going be my replacement, lamb chops!" The upsuper yelled in bliss as he pulled his fist to punch her small body. She dodged the attack but his second punch connected and sent her flying into the force field door.
"AUHHGGG!" She cried out, recoiling in the pain from her back before noticing the man was coming for her, managing to get up but unable to dodge it completely in this cramped arena. She felt the punch connected with her left arm, braking the bones in the limb, Then a kick to her gut. Knocking her a few inches near Whitley's body.
"....No...."
The youngest of the Schnee clan could only watch in despair through one eye, the two were being broken by a scummy excuse of a human, and the young redeemer of his name could do nothing but watched as his attempt to prove to the world his words were real go down in flames.
"...Leave...her...alone..." These words spit out ignoring the pain as much as he could while rising back to his feet and limping to get in between the Faunus woman and her attacker.
"So, the boy still has some fighting spirit...The boy that has never fought for anything in his life, I am certain that you're doing this for everyone's attention."
The man was right on a few things, Whitley was never a fighter or some ground troop, and it may have been that he wanted attention when he first started to go down this road but Winter quickly knocked that idea out of his head, but the man is wrong on others, for Whitley realize that all he wanted to do in life is to help in anyway, even he'll be happy as a sideliner act to the main heroes.
But one can't always stay in that role and hoped to change the world, for a long time he stood by as a witness to to his father's crimes, for longer his thoughts of heroism being dismissed by that bogus excuse of a father and as far as he remembered, Whitley had others fight for him. But no more!
"In this world, money and power pull the strings, and yet you choose death for a flithy animal? How more times are you going to PISS M-!" The man was interrupted while talking by, to the surprise of all, the white haired boy headbutting his taller foe, knocking the man onto his ass!
"...WHAT!?" The man screamed in horror as he started to bleed from his now broken nose, this was the first time the business man has ever seen his own blood.
"...I've...told...the world...I...would die for my dream....even if I die today....I'll be happy to die...hundred times over again..." The boy's body was mostly broken, each word he spoke caused more pain than his body could stand but the young man still had one part of his body to fight with, his hard head!
The next thing they all knew, Whitley continued headbutting his enemy, causing the man to gain a reality check, his ability were increasing his attacks but at a certain cost, The sole major weak point on his body, the one that held the brain to think of ways to screwed others over, the one with the eyes that saw everyone else as beneath him and the one with the mouth with a booming voice he used to make threats and promises to ruin his foes, his face weaken over time with every punch or kick he gave to the two.
"NONONONONO!" The man screamed with a bloodied and bruised face, before feeling the same despair he installed into his two victims just mere minutes ago. In a desperate attempt to stop these attacks, he grabbed the man in the cloak as a hostage, with the shiv he used on the boy still in his possession.
"You-ou wouldn't w-wan...me to stab some r-random person that had nuthing to do with this, uh?!" These ragged words were like the man himself, desperate and scummy, but was enough to stop the boy from getting closer.
The foe laughed thinking he has the upper hand. "I admired your old man's talent in making a profit, but he was just like you to a certain point, he was no killer, so now I advise we wait until they let us out or I'll be plunging..."
"Tsk...This old fart really been pissing me off since we got here!"
The cloaked man yelled as he stepped on the foot of his captor along with a gunshot ringing though the air. "W-WHAT!?" The man screamed in pain as he released his hold to grabbed his now bleeding foot. "DAMMIT, DAMMIT, DAMMIT!" The larger man screamed before realizing why his leg strength wasn't up to snuff. While being headbutted by his Whitley, the earpiece fell out and was behind his two victims!
"No way this is happening...." He groaned in pain before the cloaked male took off his hood, just to make things worse for the would be assassin.
"...and here I thought I would have a peaceful life in prison..." The man sighed as he revealed himself to be a fomer ally of Salem, one who wanted nothing more but to rot in prisons for the remaining of his life.
"M-Mercury B-B-Black, why is a war criminal here?!" The man screamed, fearing for his life even more than before.
"I was supposed to transfer into the next city, mostly for some good behavior BS..." Mercury turned his attention to the white haired boy.
"Hey kid, you're the brother to that girl Weiss, right?"
"....." Whitley wanted to say something but really couldn't, with those last few headbutts, if he tried to speak now, he will surely faint.
"Man, the geezer really did a number on you, huh?" Mercury asked before = one of the guards and Whitley's sisters ran in.
"Holy...CRAP! WHITLEY!!"
"Why is our brother and Miss Thyme in the same cell as these two?!" Winter demanded answers before Mercury explained for panicing guard while pulling the earpiece from the ground.
"Whitley was being used by lord lard ass as a punching bag until few people from Pheonix Ash caused a short blackout, the girl ran in to stopped the beatings but was attacked as well until your little bro figuring out the buzzard's weakness by headbutting the man in his freakin' face. After that, The creep tried to use me as levelage but yeah, you can see how that worked out."
"DAMNED BRATS...." The man groaned as the two Schnee women got Whitley and Fiona out of this cell but froze in fear when he saw Winter staring down at the man.
"I figured that your group would pulled something like this when Whitley told me of the CEO position, so I looked into yours and the rest of the board's backgrounds...It was just as Black said, You and your three friends in the board of eight have more than just attempted assassination to worry about now."
This decree was worrying enough before Mercury Black turned his attention back to the older man."I guess I'm going to have a kicking dummy for a roommate now!"
"Please have mercy!" The man turned deathly pale before Fiona yelled.
"Like the mercy you shown to me and Whitley because he called out your sorry butt, I would think not!"
Weiss was next to insult the man for his behavior. "...If anything you deserve nothing but a fate in a cage, like the various futures you took away!"
"Looks like you're going to rot in a cell for the rest of your sad existence." Winter finished before the guards were told by the military commander to take her younger brother out of the room and to take his would be assassin to the other cell.
Before leaving, Winter asked the former ally of Salem.
"Mercury Black...Your sentence for your war crimes have been over with for a couple of months now, yet, you still choose to remain in prison, may I ask why?"
"Since Cinder died in the fight against our former partner and Salem's redemption attempt, I really don't have much else left. Besides it's like I've said during that battle with the hammerhead and her pretty boy lover, I have been forced to fight since I was born by a drunk abusive excuse of a dad, so even if I could be let back into society, I don't think I could be happy."
"You could've joined the military..." The eldest member of the Schnee replied before the younger male countered
"Yeah, but I hate following and giving orders, besides you've seen what this old bastard done to your brother, creeps like him and worse are everywhere in prison. So as long as I can beat them senseless, I'm freaking happy to serve more time for each brawl I get my ass into."
This silenced Winter for a couple of seconds before asking for two simple demands. "Just tell Em that I'm okay with how things ended between us, and tell her just to be happy with her new life, if she can do that, then that would give me some sort of peace."
A couple of hours later at the medical bay on the airship.
Kairi used the healing spell Curaga on both the boy and Fiona. "Thank you, Lady Kairi." Fiona bowed while still having her arm in a cast after Whitley opened his eyes, being healed.
"Hey, it's not a problem, but please, just call me Kairi for now on, okay, Fiona?"
"Ughh, what...Fiona..are you alright?" The redeemer asked his friend.
"Yes, but you took the blunt of the beating, please relax, Whitley." The Fanuas explained before the boy asked.
"Who payed for our bails? I doubt it was my sisters, our situation isn't as it once was."
At that moment, Weiss and Blake came in, the disowned heiress of the destroyed SDC was proud at the fact that her former enemy of a brother fought for what's right, explaining. "It those three you poined out from that charity that payed for your and Fiona's bonds."
"Huh?!" Fiona was taken back in surprise by this before the middle child of the Schnee family theorized
"My guess is, either your speech or being outed as horrible people that made those three pay with their own Lien to post bond. I only wished we got there quicker but the airport was on the other side of the city."
"That's good but I can only hope that the others in the crowd took my words to heart and none of the people recording that day alter the video."
...We can check for video or audio interferances later on today but something tells me those who heard your speech that they're going be thinking about it for a long time." Blake's words made the youngest member of the Schnee children a little more eased.
"If only mother lived to see her son became someone to be proud of." Weiss thought to herself that day before their last mission in Remnant before her universe was wiped from existence.
In the Hangar of the doomed Wunder, Weiss had a thought of what could've been the futures of the new CEO of Pheonix Ash and his loyal bodyguard could have been if their universe just lasted a little bit longer.
"Hey, Bozos I'm about to take the Eva-unit 02 F off of the ship, before figuring out a plan to stop Misato."
"Alright.." Aqua answered as the red-head walked towards the console before seeing something strange.
"You guys were here for the last hour right?"
"Yeah?" Duo answered before Asuka added.
"And no one else came in or tried anything funny right?"
"We've been here the entire time, what's with the questions, Langley?" Viral countered.
"...There's two signals of heat in the cockpit...."
"Umm what?" Jaune exclaimed as the console showing the statistics of the bulky armored version of Unit 02, showing two bodies of heat in the entry plug.
Before anything else was said in the group. A young male's voice came through the console. "Umm Hello? Can someone get us out of this thing?"
No one but the Schnee huntress recognize the youth's voice. "Whitley!?"
"Sis, can you hear me?"
Asuka spoke next, "How long were you two in the Evangelion for?"
"I think for three hours, oh right, Fi wanted to asked if there's any males in the area."
"Fiona's in there too?!" Wiess inner thoughts were of panic that were made worse after Jaune's answer.
"Yeah, there's four guys here, why?" Jaunne asked before Fiona screamed in embrassament.
"PLEASE GO TO THE OTHER ROOM OR SOMETHING, I CAN'T GO OUT LIKE THIS!"
"Fi, please relax..."
"RELAX!? YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE IN THIS THING WITH CLOTHES ON!" The girl whined while crying from embarrassment.
"Umm, could anyone bring clothing for Miss Thyme."
Duo began to smirked before being dragged by Viral into the next room. "Keep your dirty thoughts to yourself, Duo Maxwell..."
"Killjoy!" Duo screamed as Jonathan conviced Jaune to followed.
"Sir Arc, we should leave as well, as it is knights' honor to..."
"Already way ahead of you, Mr. Joestar. We'll see you all later when we come up with that plan!"
As this was all happening, an snore echoed out from behind the crates. "Is someone sleeping over there?" Aqua asked while checking to see who it might be.
There, Chibodee Crocket, of all people was in deep slumber, much to everyone's surprise.
"...We should wake him up..." Asuka sighed while Weiss went looking for any of the female members of the crew for some clothing.
But to the surprise of the two, he just walked into the next room while sleeping the entire time. "That...worked out way to well..."

Oh how sad I am. I've been planning this escape for years. And now that I'm finally here, with one more night on my... not-really-a-bed, just a... mat-on-the-floor with blanket and pillows...
I sob. Sob and cry and wonder why I feel all this pain. I'm the one who wanted to escape. To live my life to the fullest. To do all the things I love. To draw and sing, to wear my hair down and bake, to make friends and wear cute dresses, to have cats and be with the man I love and oh gosh how lucky I am that he loves me dearly and wants the best for me. He and his mum supported me so so much. My friend too. They are my chosen family.
But... why am I feeling so horribly sad...? Its because I'll never see my parents or siblings again. I feel so bad for my mum because she allows people to use her and by that I mean she does everything for my grown ass siblings. And my extended family all use her a lot too.
About my mum.
Sadly, shes religious. Prays constantly. Always telling us to pray. Donates money to needy. Forced me to pay zakkah. Buys counters to constantly recite, it's like digital tasbeehs and stuff to use wherever without looking or counting. You just press and then you get your number on a screen. She takes care of her mum sometimes. Often cooks for her. She often watches her sisters kids because her sister, my aunt... is ever so social and kinda just expects my mum to baby sit them. My mum cooks almost every day. Usually every other day because my dad refuses to eat old food. And when I say cook I dont mean something easy like whip up a pasta. I mean dishes that take at least more than 2 hours to cook. Mind you though, hes a chef and does cook sometimes in the house. But since he works he expects mum to cook and honestly if I were a man, I'd want that too. To come home from work to good food. Anyway...
I have siblings. One of which is a piece of good for nothing shit. Uses and abuses mum psychologically. For real. It's so sad. And mum enables this shit because she believes it's not actually my siblings behaviour. It's apparently a ghost. My other siblings are not of legal age yet. I will miss them terribly. They... will have to grow up a lot. Mum does a lot for them. Cooking. Cleaning. Honestly, I dont cook because mum does it. Nor clean. I avoided being with mum and basically without realising it, did that rock technique with her. Where I basically diffuse the conversation and stuff because I hate talking about Islam and just avoid being around her and stuff. I forgot what the technique is actually called.
I love her. Even if I'm sure her love for me is conditional. I wish to keep contact with her. But I worry about her health. Diabetes and general pressure issues. If she dies, my dad wont be able to take care of my siblings. My dad will cook for them and teach them how to travel to school and stuff. But besides that, he wont know about their medical conditions or history, he cant speak much English just some. He is smart but also not really? It's weird.
Mg siblings and mum is who I worry for most. The two siblings who arent over 18 yet. I dont care for the other one because they ruined my life and became such a horrible person. I get some of it is mental health issues so they need help but I'm speaking very specifically of their character before all this began.
Anyway. I escape tomorrow. Today is technically my last day ever with my family. I do love them. I wish to text or call them from time to time but I do think a period of no contact may be necessary for both them and myself to kind of... let this choice I made sink in. I've bought games for my younger siblings where we can chat and hopefully they keep this private. I do believe that they may understand me when they reach a certain age and be more accepting than my parents.
In my letter, I'm not sure if I should say I left because I wanted to live my life or because "God guided me" and play that card. I'm semi atheist. Sometimes I believe in God and other times I dont. Right now km not really sure what I am so I say semi atheist. I will cry and cry and cry after I've made it to my partner. He and his mum will hold me close and tell me I'm safe and loved and deserve to choose the life I want. I have support. We are gonna do so many things together that we couldn't before!
I'm an artist. In so many ways. I had to hide my art with my family. With my partner, he wanted them all displayed. For Christmas, I drew portraits, more like fantasy portraits of him and his mum and his cat. They still have it displayed in their house. It warms my heart. I draw, sew, sculpt with clay, paint sometimes, do traditional pencils drawings with colour and without, digital art, pixel art for working on my game, make plushies and I plan to sew my own dresses, I like styling my hair although my hair is pretty damaged sadly, no not with heat products, more of just unhealthy hair. What else...? I just love making things with paper like water fall cards and spinning cards and pop up books. When I confessed to my partner, at the time he couldn't be with me because he wanted to make sure he was ready, I made him a well designed pop up book. It had stuff we liked, camping, gaming, sleeping, loads of pop up and sliding elements. Then on our 1st anniversary, I made him an explosion box. He was absolutely in shock as he opened it over Skype. I plan to make an even better gift for next time. For Christmas he attempted something similar, he is very creative too. He made me a book of himself. Like a little toy for my to hold around with funny comments and his cat kinda touring me through his weak knee joints Haha and his heart which loves me 100% and his little nose which if I boop, doesnt do anything, nor the the little mole he has on his face. All these drawings and details, I love it so much.
Why did I write all that... I'm trying to cope right now. I want encouragement. I'm scared. But I know I have to do this. I dont want to cry or be sad. I wanna be happy because I have this opportunity to run away move out and be free. I've saved and saved enough for at least a few years. But I'll be getting a job in the new country after I learn the language officially. By going to school to learn the language I'll keep myself occupied and busy. At my partners house we will be playing games ans cuddling and making Lego stuff and drawing and going for walks and watching films so I know I'll be happy.
I just also know I'll wonder how my family are and worry those thoughts will eat into my happy time. I dont know how to go about this.
Please... I wanna move out on happy terms. I deserve to live. To think 7 years ago I was going to take my life because I prayed constantly to God and he didnt seem to reply to it... and then I became an ex Muslim and found a new friend and then a another one of which who became my partner... I never would have believed if someone told me, hey in some years you'll move away from your family have a loving boyfriend and be free from religion. I'd have slapped them maybe and said shut up you liar. Get lost.
But here I am. I didnt take my life. I won. And I'm gonna win again tomorrow when I take that plane. I'm just sad about missing my family. Even if they were unpleasant at times. I still love them.
But I deserve to live my own life. I can do this. One more night on my not so very comfy floor bed.
Paper Blackstar
I will never post from this account again. For updates on my situation, possibly a tutorial of how I escape, please see my other account, The Paper Blackstar. It has one post saying that it's me, and in the comments a mod confirmed.

be me; ex LizarDM
be also me; Adonis Valintellis (Tiefling Paladin), Thalia Milakos (Human Ranger) and Zaahir Kehmet (Earth Genasi Wizard)
the soldier stifled a yawn as he patrolled the sandy beaches of Kalikos
clouds hid the island from the moon’s spectral glow, casting the land into darkness and turning the often silver seas black as coal
his shift had been a long one and just as boring as expected
where once his mind had been sharp and alert, it now lingered on thoughts of a cold drink and a warm bed
his eyes scanned the shore superficially, passing over the same stones and grassy knolls he’d seen a hundred times before
on any other night, he may have noticed the discrepancies in the shoreline
the new rock that appeared almost boat-like on second glance
but alas, his mind was a thousand miles away, and the javelin hit him without warning
the soldier collapsed to his knees, gasping for air like a fish on land
his armour had spared him from the worst of the damage, but the javelin had done its job
stunned and winded, he was rendered defenceless against the four figures that emerged from the darkness
a thought crossed his mind to sound the alarm; but his limbs refused to move and his lungs pleaded for breath
one member of the pack split from the rest. A stout dwarf with a full beard and a grim expression
they approached the helpless man, drawing a sharply curved short sword from their belt
the soldier tried to move
tried to yell
but the dwarf closed the distance between them and cut his throat, putting a violent end to his struggles
wiping the blood clean from his weapon, Oryk hauled the body behind cover before jogging to catch up with his companions
the Order of the Twins moved like shadows in the night. Their passage muffled by the spells woven about their feet
that said, their infiltration still proved easier than expected
skirting the edges of the island, the party avoided common paths and watchful eyes; slipping between gaps in the meagre defences they encountered
their route took them just below the peak of the island; where a lavish home stared out across the ocean
in the distance, tiny twinkling lights just barely outlined the Athosi mainland
the house itself was lit up like a beacon in the night, and roaming globules of fire identified the few guards on rotation. Six or seven at most
less than a third of what they had anticipated
counting their blessings, the small band of adventurers navigated the narrow pathways around the house and approached the island’s southern side, where a lonely dirt road wound its way towards a grove of trees
they moved swiftly and silently through the long grass that grew on either side, but they needn’t have bothered
the road was unguarded, and the entrance to the grove lay bare
“this is too easy,” Cyrene whispered; fidgeting nervously with an iron band around her wrist. “Where are the rest of the guards?”
she, like the rest of her companions, had a dishevelled look to her appearance
a thinness to her features that implied more than a couple missed meals
Oryk shot her a stern look, and the half orc immediately shut her mouth
turning his gaze to the two half elves to his rear, he was answered with obedient silence
Maia had always been thin, but now she was practically gaunt
her eyes carried a weight, and an ugly scar split her lip on the left side
Iris, her sister, had once identified herself with long curly hair
now, it was cut short, and crudely so. As if done with an altogether uncaring hand
both twins wore the same iron band as Cyrene around their left wrist
a thin piece of metal that coiled around their limb like a snake
with a commanding wave of his hand, Oryk led the party through the grove’s northern entrance and into the trees beyond
moving like ghosts between the thin trunks and shallow underbrush, the group made good progress before they heard the sudden snap of a twig in the darkness
Oryk raised a fist and the advance came to an abrupt stop, scanning their surroundings with tense expressions
a series of soft whispers drifted between the trees, accompanied by the rustling of leaves and groaning of branches
the dwarven fighter drew his sica and his companions complied, unsheathing their weapons in response
they began to spot lithe, feminine figures peering out at them from behind the trees. Staring at the strangers with bright, emerald eyes
the women had skin like mottled bark, and hair that plumed about them like foliage
“dryads,” Cyrene declared, lowering her rhomphaia with the faintest hint of relief
Iris and Maia exchanged a look before lowering their own weapons, albeit keeping them close at hand
Oryk, however, raised his short sword threateningly, and pointed it at the nearest nature spirit
“get back in your trees and stay there. Interfere, and we will not hesitate to kill you”
the dryad in question retreated, but the others stood their ground as a frantic whispering filled the trees around them
something dangerous glimmered in Oryk’s eyes, and his fingers tightened around the hilt of his sica
“NOW!” he suddenly bellowed, his voice deep and commanding
the drayds scattered into the trees, leaving a myriad of foul curses and even fouler odours in their wake
Oryk gave a satisfied grunt and turned to leave, only to nearly walk into the dryad that now stood in his way
a spirit with speckled, ashy skin and a stern, stubborn expression
Oryk approached them with his weapon raised
“get out of my way,” he growled. “I won’t ask a third time”
the dryad stared down at him like a disapproving adult would a petulant child, and when it spoke, it did so with a voice like wind through a canopy
“if you were wise, you would return to your masters. You will not find what you seek here”
its eyes lifted to the party, as if directing its words to them
with a snarl, Oryk swiped at the dryad, only to be met by a cloud of pollen and stinging nettles
cursing aloud between bouts of frantic coughing, the dwarf fled the swarm and started rubbing his eyes, which had already begun streaming with tears
muttering under her breath, Cyrene approached his side and laid a hand on his shoulder
“come now, let me see”
lowering his hands to his side, Oryk turned to face her with a grimace, his eyes puffy and red
“Archons above, Oryk,” Cyrene cursed. “You should know better than to taunt a dryad”
as the words left her mouth, the band on her wrist suddenly tightened and the half orc gave a small yelp of pain
glaring at her through bloodshot eyes, Oryk gave the cleric a venomous look
“and you should know better than to speak out of line”
Cyrene’s hands fumbled at the metal around her wrist, refusing to meet the dwarf’s cruel gaze
the cuff continued to coil and squeeze; writhing like a living being as Cyrene frantically whispered a foreign chant beneath her breath
the words seemed to appease the magic item, and it loosened its grip in response
witnessing this cruel display of discipline, the twins began unconsciously massaging the band around their own wrists; as if reminiscing on a similar experience
shaking the pain from her arm, Cyrene set to work curing Oryk’s ailment, uttering a slew of healing spells
with his eyesight restored, Oryk sheathed his weapon and pushed past Cyrene, wandering into the trees
with little other choice other than to follow, the group set off after him
the party walked for some time before a sound other than buzzing insects and murmured curses reached their ears
a low, rumbling that echoed through the trees. Like a dull droning that came in ebbs and flows
once more the group came to a stop, and before Oryk could even turn to look towards the twins, they had already begun to move
creeping forward with the lightest of footsteps, Maia and Iris stealthily approached the sound, deftly avoiding any stray branches or betraying stones
the droning grew louder and louder, until the pair had stopped just shy of its source
peering around a trunk with sharp blue eyes, Maia scanned what lay ahead
the trees parted around an ancient oak, its roots deep and its branches tall
a hollow sat about half way up the trunk. A small opening just wide enough to put a hand or two inside
but the tree was not so interesting as what lay beneath
coiled around the trunk was a creature with a long, serpentine body
its scales, green and flecked with brown, were hard and interlocked like shields in a phalanx
its head, immense and filled with razor sharp teeth, lay curled just below the hollow of the tree
the low rumbling emanated from the monster’s chest, as it uttered a long, prolonged snore
Maia’s jaw tightened and her eyes flitted over to her sister
Iris’ face had gone pale, and her hand had instinctively dropped to grab at the empty sheath on her belt
a prize taken by their employer
the twins locked eyes, and shared a moment of profound fear
wetting her suddenly very dry lips, Maia gestured back towards the trees and Iris nodded in silent agreement
the two stealthily retreated, keeping their footsteps light all the way back to their comrades
Oryk almost jumped when the twins materialised beside him, emerging from the darkness without warning
“well?” he hissed, his voice rising above the droning snores. “What did you find?”
Iris frantically gestured for the dwarf to quiet down, as Maia shot a terrified glance back in the direction of the oak tree
only when they heard the low droning of the monster’s snores did the pair relax enough to answer
“dragon”
the word held in the air like a curse
Cyrene’s eyes widened, and had it not been for the band on her wrist, she most certainly would have uttered a prayer
even Oryk’s permanently affixed scowl faded as the blood drained from his face
when he finally spoke, he did so with no semblance of his usual condescension
“...how big?”
“8 meters,” Iris answered. “No more than 12”
Oryk nodded, his brow knitting together as he dropped into a crouch
“a juvenile,” he thought aloud. “Hasn’t reached full adulthood. Scorch marks?”
“none that we could see”
“good. Then either it’s too young to breathe fire, or it spits poison”
his eyes narrowed to points as he mulled things over in his head
the group kept quiet, forced to listen to the distant, droning snores as their leader considered their options
after a long stretch of time, Oryk took a sharp inhale and straightened his posture
“it’s asleep?”
his eyes shifted to Maia, and the half elf tensed
“we think so but…”
“we don’t know for certain,” Iris quickly interrupted. “We’ve never encountered a dragon before. We should call off the mission and come back more prepared”
a deadly silence fell over the group as the dwarf went still
“call off the mission?” he repeated
his voice was calm, but the words held a distinct edge to them
like the blade of a meticulously sharpened knife
“and since when did you make the calls in this party?”
Maia shot her sister a look, and Iris lowered her eyes
“never,” she answered
“that’s right. Never,” Oryk reiterated, holding the half elf in his steely gaze. “We do things my way, as we always have”
Iris’ clamped her mouth shut and the dwarvish fighter turned to look at his other companions
“unless you have all forgotten what awaits us if we fail? What will happen if we come back empty handed?”
he was met with silence and a slow shake of Cyrene’s head
“failure isn’t an option,” he continued. “If the drakon is asleep, we need to act now”
his gaze shifted to Maia
“so can you do what I need you to?”
the half elf swallowed and tried to slow her racing heartbeat
“I think so,” she meekly answered
“good. The rest of us will wait in position. We’ll flank the tree from three sides and-”
“-I’ll do it,” Iris suddenly interjected
Oryk’s teeth flashed in a grimace before he turned to face her
“I’ll retrieve the objective,” Iris clarified, meeting the dwarf’s gaze
“Maia is quieter,” Oryk bluntly retorted. “She stands a better chance of getting to the tree than you do”
“but with my magic-”
“-your magic that we need for the escape,” he interrupted. “We have a plan, stick to it”
he turned back to the front and began drawing out a rough plan in the dirt with his sica
“-while Maia sneaks in, we hold here to provide support. Once we have what we came for, we leave back through the northern exit”
Iris’ eye twitched, and Maia reached out to drop a hand on her sister’s arm
“Iris-” she quietly started
but her warning went unheeded, and Iris spoke up again
“what’s the point of saving my magic if we don’t get what we came for?” she argued
Oryk spun with a stormy expression, pointing his blade to her chest
“because I said so!” he snapped. “And you will do what you’re told!”
he may have stood half a head shorter than Iris, but in that moment, Oryk felt like a giant, and in the silence of the trees, his voice sounded like a clap of thunder
Iris’ face paled and Oryk realised what he had done
instinctively, the party held their breath; anticipating a monstrous roar, or the crash of falling trees
but after a few tense seconds, all they heard was the rhythmic rumbling of distant snores
the group letting out a collective sigh of relief that cut through the tension like a knife
tension that returned the moment Oryk opened his mouth
“do you want to be sent across the Chronaean?” he hissed. “Do you want to leave your sister alone?”
Iris’ eyes shifted to Cyrene, searching for some glimmer of support
instead, the half orc looked away, leaving the half elf to face their leader alone
“of course I don’t,” Iris mumbled
“exactly,” Oryk spat. “Stay in line, do what you’re told, and keep your mouth shut”
he turned to Maia with an expression that encouraged absolute obedience
“get the objective, and get out. Nod if you understand”
Maia gave a slight jerk of her head
“good. Now get moving”
the dwarf stormed off into the trees, and Cyrene quickly shot up to follow him
Maia and Iris exchanged a look of resignation before joining their trusted comrades

Maia stood in position by the edge of the clearing, mentally projecting her path to and from the hollow
it was a simple job, really
dart across the open ground
jump up to the low branch on the left side
climb over to the main trunk
grab the objective
and do it all again
simple
if it weren’t for the dragon in the way
Maia's heart began to pound in her chest until she felt a hand fall gently across her arm
she turned, meeting Iris' concerned gaze
“you don’t have to do this,” her sister whispered; practically breathing the words into Maia’s ear
“yes I do,” Maia answered, keeping her voice just as quiet. “You heard Oryk. We can’t go back empty handed”
“f*ck Oryk,” Iris cursed. “We’re only here because of him”
in spite of herself, a grim smile lifted the corner of Maia’s lips
it was a rare thing to hear Iris curse
“we could run, you know. Make a break for the mainland”
Maia’s smile dropped in an instant
“Iris, no”
“why not?” Iris replied earnestly. “We can make it. I know we can”
“they’ll catch us. And even if they don’t, what then? We’ve got nowhere to hide. No friends to help us. We’d be on our own”
“we’ve been alone before. We survived, didn’t we?”
Iris’ words were hopeful, but they couldn’t hide the desperation beneath
when Maia didn’t seem convinced, Iris took her sister’s face into her hands
“please don’t do this. I can’t lose you”
Maia’s eyes softened, and she placed her hands atop Iris’
“that’s why I have to do this”
she took a deep breath and tried to put on a half convincing smile
“you don’t have to worry about me. I’ve got this. I promise”
Iris’ thumb traced the scar across her sister’s lip
“I’m older. It’s my job to worry about you”
a frown fell across Maia’s face
“older by 10 minutes”
“and I’ll never let you forget it”
Iris pulled her sister into a tight hug
“don’t you dare get yourself caught”
“when have I ever?”
the two reluctantly parted, and Iris held her sister at an arm’s length
“remember. Once you have it-”
“-run like the Hounds of Chaon are after me”
a smile touched Iris’ lips, and the shadows rose up to swallow her
when they parted, the monk was gone
inhaling a slow, shaky breath, Maia composed herself, and refocused on the tree
30ft to the centre
branch on the left side
over the dragon
down to the hollow
reverse and get out
she exhaled slowly, letting the shake fade from her breath
she had this
Maia broke from the tree line, moving in a swift but stealthy manner
every step carefully laid. Every movement intentional
the dragon’s snores rumbled like thunder, growing louder with each step
before she knew it, she was beneath the low branch
taking a quick stutter step to gain momentum, she threw herself upwards, catching the branch with both hands
thankfully, the branch held firm, and Maia swung her legs up and around it
shimmying along inch by inch, she drew closer to the trunk itself, inadvertently holding her breath as she passed over the sleeping body of the dragon
its breath reeked up close. Like spoiled fruit and vinegar
it took all her strength not to gag
before she knew it, she was at the trunk of the tree and at the next step of her plan
hoisting herself up to a crouched position, she flattened her body against the side of the trunk and began sliding her foot along its length
eventually, she found a suitable foothold and began clambering across to a more central position
the hollow was just beneath her now
and beneath that, the massive head of the dragon
this close, she realised just how easily such a creature could snap her up
with her small frame, she’d be gone in one or two bites
pushing such morbid thoughts out of her mind, she leaned down until her head and arm were low enough to reach inside the hollow
her lungs were beginning to burn from holding her breath for so long, but she dared not exhale
she wasn't sure how good a dragon's senses were, but she wasn't keen to find out either
reaching her arm into the hollow, her fingers touched loose leaves and knotted wood
she pushed a little deeper, searching for any sign of her prize
something cold
something metal
but instead, she felt the hard back of the hollow
frowning, she pressed again, but still felt only the rear of the hollow
had she somehow missed it?
her fingers scrambled around, but continued to feel only wood and leaves
her lungs were really burning now, and she could feel her face flushing with colour from being upside down
regardless, she removed her arm and leaned her head down further, trying to peer inside
in the black gloom of a moonless night, a human wouldn’t have been able to see a thing
but even with her enhanced elvish sight, Maia was granted only the slightest advantage
just enough to make out the shape of the interior and the contents within
dried leaves
knotted wood
a couple insect husks
and nothing else
sure she had somehow made a mistake, she looked again and again
but with each scan, the truth became undeniable
“you will not find what you seek, here”
the dryad’s words echoed in Maia’s head, and with a cold sense of dread, she realised that the spirit hadn’t been speaking rhetorically
the amulet wasn’t here
and with that realisation, Maia’s lungs could hold on no longer
her breath escaped all at once, her awkward position driving the air out in an undignified huff
she clamped a hand over her mouth, but the damage had been done
she had made a sound, however small, and already her breath was mixing with the cool air
time slowed to a crawl as the dragon’s snores came to a stop
she watched in terror as its head, mere inches below her, began to stir
its nostrils flared; drawing breath with a deep, rasping inhale, and its eyes rolled in their sockets
the dragon’s jaws cracked open, revealing a black, forked tongue and rows of fetid teeth
rancid breath assaulted Maia’s senses, making her stomach turn and her head spin
she waited for the creature to open its eyes
to see the tiny morsel dangling helplessly above it
but they never did
to her greatest relief, the dragon remained asleep and blissfully unaware of her presence
relief swiftly turned to dismay, however, as the dragon proceeded to shift; its scales rippling like water across its long, serpentine body
the tree shook violently as the monster scraped against its surface, shearing away bark and causing branches to groan and sway
wrapping her arms around whatever she could find, Maia clung desperately as the shaking threatened to throw her loose
after what felt like an eternity, the vibrations mercifully ended, and the dragon returned to its snoring
but even after the tree had long fallen still, Maia found herself unable move; as if every single muscle in her body had frozen solid
in a moment of clarity, she realised that her hand had found her dagger in the chaos, and that the weapon was now clutched in an iron grip at her side
she almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation
as if a dagger would keep her safe if the dragon had actually awoken
nonetheless, she kept it in her hand, unwilling to relinquish the one defence she had
lifting her gaze to scan the surrounding treeline, she spotted the pale faces of her companions waiting in position. Intently following her progress with their eyes
Iris looked just as high sprung as she was. All but ready to throw herself into the open in order to save her sister
Maia silently prayed that her twin could keep her composure for just a little longer
wetting her incredibly dry lips, the rogue began scaling the tree; taking care to avoid any of the small twigs and leaves that had been shaken loose by the dragon’s shifting
upon reaching her chosen branch she paused, taking a moment to slow her racing heart beat
in spite of everything telling her otherwise, she needed to calm down
stress would lead to mistakes
and mistakes would lead to her death
feeling her muscles relax ever so slightly, Maia continued, stretching her body out to reach the low branch
her feet found purchase, and the rogue began creeping along its length
a few more steps and she’d be home free
“Maia!”
a single word
muffled and distorted, and yet agonisingly loud
Maia’s eyes dropped to the bronze surface of her dagger and saw a young woman’s face staring back at her, their eyes grey and piercing
there was a flash of familiarity in the half elf’s mind, but in that moment, she could barely recall her own name
a million thoughts raced through her mind as her heart pounded like a drum in her ears
one thought, however, screamed louder than the rest
run
Maia’s feet moved before the thought had even finished forming, propelling her from the branch a split second before it detonated into an explosion of jagged splinters
she hit the ground hard, feeling something give in her shoulder
she didn’t have time to dwell on it, as an earth shattering roar tore the world asunder
her feet were under her in an instant, and she broke into a sprint, not daring to look behind her
she knew that if she turned, all she would see is a flash of green scales and a mouth full of fangs closing in to end her life
the air began to reek of rotten fruit and then a body collided with her, throwing her aside
a cloud of noxious fumes ripped through the space she had just occupied, causing grass to shrivel and trees to wither
she felt hands on her arms and shoulders, and then Iris was yelling at her, hauling her to her feet amidst pained racking coughs
they didn’t have time to stop, barrelling through the trees in a mad dash to get away
as furious roars filled the air behind them, Iris stumbled through the underbrush, her legs unsteady beneath her
Maia looped an arm under her shoulder, and now the twins were supporting each other in a tangle of limbs
minutes passed. Or maybe just seconds. And then the two broke from the tree line onto an open road
sea winds rushed up to meet them, and Iris' legs fully gave out as she began greedily sucking in gasps of fresh air
“come on!” Maia urged, trying to drag her sister to her feet
but Iris was of no use now, her eyes bulging and her face flushed with colour
something ripped its way out of the underbrush and Maia turned sharply, instinctively raising the dagger that was still clutched in a death grip
instead of the dragon she was expecting, she found Cyrene and her rhomphaia, halfway through a cut that would have cleaved her in two
recognising each other at the same time, the pair lowered their weapons and turned to the wheezing half elf at their feet
concern flashing across her face, Cyrene dropped to her knees in preparation to cast a spell
before she could begin, however, Oryk emerged from the grove, blood splattered across his hands
“we don’t have time for that. Get her up!”
he raced past them, leading the charge back towards the beach
with a grunt of exertion, Cyrene lifted Iris into her arms like a baby, shoving her rhomphaia into Maia's hands
keeping a wary eye on her sister, Maia followed the half orc as she began jogging after their leader
as they ran, Oryk settled into pace beside Maia, shooting her a questioning look between grunts of breath
“do you have it?”
the half elf's shoulders fell, and she quietly shook her head
“it wasn’t there”
Oryk’s face turned a dark shade of red, and a vein bulged in his head
“what do you mean it wasn’t there?!”
“the amulet is gone. We missed it”
a stream of vile curses flowed from Oryk’s lips, and Maia wisely chose to keep her eyes forward and mouth shut
they reached the beach in record time, and Cyrene carefully laid Iris down into their waiting boat
as Oryk and Maia began pushing the vessel into the rolling surf, the dwarf gave her a hateful glare
“hells spare you when they find out we failed”
“we...haven’t...failed...yet”
Oryk turned his ire on Iris, who lay curled across the edge of the boat trying her best to suck in what air she could
“we...know...where...its...going,” she continued between strained, wheezing breaths. “We...still...have...time...”
leaping into the boat with a splash of water, Oryk waited just long enough for his companions to get in before heaving away with the oars
“we’d better. For all our sakes”
he sliced through the water with powerful strokes, driving them into deeper and darker waters
Maia slunk down beside Iris, taking her sister’s hand into her own
Iris dropped her head onto Maia’s shoulder, and the twins watched as the shores of Kalikos drifted further and further away

First Post: https://www.reddit.com/CradledDnDStories/comments/x8zwpv/athos_1_a_new_world_of_opportunity/
Last Post: https://www.reddit.com/CradledDnDStories/comments/1b2taqi/athos_35_mirror_mirro
Next Post:

Hello! I am 21F, living in the US looking for a long term pen pal! I don’t have a preference in gender but would like to stay between my age range, (20-30). I am open to both US and international penpals!
About me: I enjoy the outdoors and am currently in school to work in conservation. I love being in nature by going on hikes and meditating or simply practicing yoga on the beach. I have a special place in my heart for the arts and always crave being creative in some kind of form. Whether its sketching, going to museums, writing, listening to music ( indie, jazz and classical are my favorites!) watching films. I also love to read, although if I’m being honest, I don’t have too much time to do so, and i love anime as well! (studio ghibli! ) Another hobby of mine is cooking and I would love someone to share or trade recipes with!
I prefer starting off through email and switching over to written letters over time. I would love to write long letters about anything and everything (perhaps little stickers or drawings as well!) and stay in touch for a long time with a box full of old letters that I can look back on when I am gray and old. :)
Please feel free to reach out if you are interested! Thank you ♡

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

You make pretty regrettable mistakes when you're desperate. Unfortunately, desperation would go on to cost me much more than I ever thought possible.
When I was 19 years old my financial situation wasn't great. In what was left of a crumbling home would be my recovering addict twin sister, and myself. The unfortunate state of our home was all from the even more unfortunate passing of our parents just five years prior. The two hadn't died tragically by any means, thankfully. No.. our parents died of old age, a consequence of having us kids later in life, while not being able to take on the financial burden that would be.. us.
My sister was making the early steps into the college lifestyle, doing her best to stay afloat with my support in funding. Money was tight for the two of us, but as she became more well off on her own, the more content she was with severing the last remaining tie to her childhood.. me.
I didn't hate Xel for her decision, if anything I understood her distancing from this life.. even if it saddened me. So then it was just me! Left to a house with a hole in the ceiling. Believe it or not, life wasn't all to bad even with how considerably down in the dumps it otherwise seemed to be.
However, content as I might have been, it's human nature to want more than you have. Can't say I was to greedy to look for some comfortability in my own home..
And so there it was! The glistening letters of ink outlining my salvation. An advertisement I'd found plastered onto the wall of the small booth I sat at while I waited for the bus to carry me off to work. "$5,000 to those compatible for a recent scientific breakthrough." Under any 'normal' circumstances I would consider this a scam. Hell, I was skeptical as I scanned the letters. Had I been told of this opportunity through spam call or text I would've glossed right over it just as anyone else would have.. but I was desperate.
I think it was the fact that someone, some real person had to have put this paper up on this wall gave me some glimmer of hope for a quick cash grab. Listed bellow the promise of money was details for a number to call regarding interest in the proposition.
I took the bait.. I saw the line, and like some idiot I clamped my teeth down just for that hook to sweep me away.
The corporation I'd come to know as, "The Arsaction," would see me just a week later. There was a brief consultation. They took my weight, age, all things I would've expected. It wasn't until they pulled records regarding my familial situation that I began to find this whole ordeal.. suspicious.
To 'begin' to find things suspicious only at this point is foolish, something I full understand, but I feel the need to reinforce the fact that I, Lex McKarthy, was desperate.
Everything by this point seemed pretty legit. The blood tests, the doctors office, the tests were.. reasonable. What was I to suspect? Everything was so vague, and truth be told I honestly didn't even expect anything to come of this visit. All the doctors, all the consultants seemed so disinterested in my features.. but when they realized I had no one, everything seemed to change.
Suddenly ears perked, suddenly doors closed, suddenly I was.. exactly what they were looking for. Every feature of myself was so painfully average. I was anyman, I was.. nothing. Despite their best efforts to be discreate, I knew it was only the fact that nobody would come looking for me that peaked their interests.
My stomach dropped when I was faced with a pen in my hand, trembling over that NDA. Every fiber of me cursed myself for never considering putting just a minute of research into 'The Arsaction,' however a video briefing would ease my nerves. Nobody knew who The Arsaction was. There was no public record of their existence, and that NDA would make sure that they continued to never exist.
I was stupid, I was irrational, I was in over my head! But I was desperate.. and I had nothing else.
"I have nothing else.. I have nothing else!"
It was a mantra I chanted as I was injected with that substance. The substance that turned my blood orange, made my skin freakishly thin.
And then I went home.
That was it. I was given my sum of money, and I was sent home. They told me I was, "good to go," and no number of questions would get a one of them to speak. I was only met with who I'd assume to be security guiding me out of the building.
Not a word more of what I'd just been injected with, only given instructions to not dwell on mirrors for too long. That was it, just some ominous instructions. So I left, as befuddled as I arrived. Relief washed over me as I made my way home. The anxiety I'd received from such an ominous buildup was all waved by the fact that I was somehow just.. good to go?
Relief quickly turned to panic as the inherent nature of it all being too good to be true set in. I expected to die, I expected some visit from government agents, I expected anything and everything, but as months turned to years.. Nothing ever came of it. No mirror ever caused me any harm, which was its own anxiety I'd have to overcome simply because of the absurd nature or such a request.
I hoped it was.. some prank. Everything was well... for a time. Until my sister called.
I just.. watched the phone ring. My sister, someone who I hadn't spoken to in upwards of 8 years was suddenly ringing me up. When I finally had answered, her question left me speechless.
"Hey Lex. would you happen to remember Mom's recipe for that egg toast? I think I left the cookbook at your place."
I felt my ears ring. The question was so.. casual. She entirely skipped the part where we discussed how she's been, how I'm doing. She spoke to me like we'd hung out only days ago.
At the time I'd thought I was just being dramatic, but looking back on it I can only justify my own hesitation to respond.
"W-..what?"
I stammered like a fool, but I was firm in my disbelief.
"Yeah, it should be in the book on the counter?"
I looked over my shoulder to my kitchen counter, past the toaster I never bought, and over to the book she spoke of. My jaw hung heavy, the whole interaction feeling like a dream.
With one hand I held the phone, and with the other I began to skim the pages of the book letting my eyes linger on mom's cinnamon roll recipe for a bit longer than intended.
"Lex.. are you ok?"
My sister inquired on the other end. I suddenly felt sick.. falling the the ground and laying on my back. This wasn't happening. It never did.
"Lex? Are you alright!?"
My sister repeated back more urgently, followed by her assurance that she would be over soon to check on him. But.. no company ever arrived. After hours the line just dropped, and I fell asleep there on that cold, wooden floor, paralyzed with a feeling I couldn't wrap my head around.
This never happened.
I never left.
I woke up in my bed in a cold sweat. I checked the time, greeted with a humble 4:37 in the morning. What troubled me was the fact that the date had been set back 7 years.
Of course it wasn't all so clear to me. After 7 long years I'd honestly forgotten about this day. This was the day that I'd set out for my graciously provided $5,000
7 years of my fucking life.. I would chalk it all up to that.. STUFF that they injected me with.. what was it? Phantom Drive? I could call it all some terrible drug trip, some construct defined by some insane psychedelic, but if that were the case, how was I here now? BEFORE I'd ever taken the drug?
This is a dream. I convinced myself I hadn't miraculously gone back in time, that 7 years of my life weren't a lie, but if that were the case, why was my blood still that damn orangy hue?
I'm losing sleep over this itch in my brain. It's like some taste of blood in my mouth has soured out the idea that letting my eyelids squeeze shut could further obscure my definite understanding of when I stood.
A day I remember so vividly at the ripe age of 14 years old, now 12 years ago, I awoke to the sweet smell of cinnamon rolls filling the air. All was right with the world, all as I climbed from the messy sheets in my dark room. It was abundantly clear that the bulb of the light beside my bed had burnt out over the course of the night, and the closed blinds didn't aid my vision as I stumbled around my room in search of my door.
An oddity presented itself in the fashion of aimless wondering. Where was the nob? One I'd become so accustomed to.. not needing to open? I'd never closed my door. Not the previous night, not ever. Not to the behest of my mother who'd always taken annoyance to closed doors, some trait of my grandmother's to which my mom had unfortunately inherited.
Breakfast took the form of two strips of bacon, scrambled eggs, and slightly burnt French-Toast. My previous assumption of cinnamon rolls unfortunately missed the mark, however I wouldn't object to this. I wish I could convince myself that I was wrong. Something so mundane, something so insignificant to the events in this story, however the first notable instance of a curse that I couldn't pinpoint
My mother had already seen herself off to work by this point, and so I was faced with the responsibilities of seeing myself out to the bus. Some routine I'd become far too used to; The minutes passed, leaving me with nothing to do but wait by the door for a buss that would never arrive.
If the door being shut and the cinnamon rolls being a different meal entirely had left me with a minor confusion, then suddenly being seated in the passenger seat of my mother's car listening to the nonchalant complaints from my twin sister about the nuances freshmen year math shot me into a disarray I couldn't possibly quantify.
I think one of the scariest things for me is the fact that I thought nothing of it. I hadn't freaked out. No scene was made to express what should have been one of the more disturbing instances of my childhood.
I could chalk up the mistaking breakfast for something else as me just misremembering events.. But something unmistakable is the fact that somehow my mom both never drove me to school, yet the fact that she.. always had.
If you're confused, I understand. I am too, because the contradicting nature of my memory is something that haunts me to no end.
Things were easier as a child. That's often the case, but ever sense I stopped aging, I've begun to notice the oddities presented by life that are.. inexplainable. I'm not even sure where to start with researching my predicament. Hell, this is reddit! If I couldn't find an answer here, I doubt there is an answer to be found at all.
The Mandela Effect is something that I feel needs no introduction. To those who don't know, the Mandela Effect, in brief, is a phenomenon that incurs when you "misremember" something. Think of a card, now imagine you saw that card as a child and it had a single heart drawn on it's center. Now, years later you are discussing this card with someone else just for them to tell you that the heart you swear, the heart you KNOW you saw.. was a diamond. You tell them they are wrong, you shake your head, chuckle nervously.. But then they present you with the card.
Your stomach drops. This can't be the card, there is no way! Only it is the card, and when you come to the realization that it is in fact the card you'd seen as a child, you are filled with a mix of confusion, fascination, and quite possibly denial.
Most often, the Mandela Effect is associated with silly things like books titles, and board game mascots, but my experience is far beyond such things. It's the only phenomenon I've found that seems even within the realm of explaining my predicament. Problem is, the more I think, the more is wrong.
All of me wishes it all ended with that one childhood experience! But it didn't. In fact, the more I consider my childhood, the more contradictions I notice. Part of me believes I could handle this if it was limited to my childhood, but it's not. This.. experience... It effects my every day!
I'm not losing my mind, I'm just picking up crumbs that I never dropped. Not.. losing my mind, just finding more "mind" than the inventory should account for.

Hello 23 F here. I am killing myself June 1st at I dont know when.
if someone happens to stumble upon my account after im gone just know this is a very tough decision to make. I know the consequences of my actions and I know my loved ones dont deserve this. Especially my brother.
He is the reason for me living so far but unfortunately Im at my end. My mental health has gotten so bad to the point I think its best for everyone around me if I go.
I want them to he happy and care free. Grief is something people can get over. I want them to know I tried everything.
I tried praying, reading Quran, therapy, medications exercising whatever I had in me I did.
I am terrified of whats gonna happen next. I want my brother to be safe so im gonna leave all the money in my bank account for him so he can do whatever he wants with it in the future.
I also pre wrote him letters for his big days. Hes the only person im sad in letting go of.
Im sad I cant stay his big sister forever.
I have days where my mental pain turns physical and I cant shower anymore without holding on the handle.
Ive also gotten to the point of forgetting to buy clothes for myself. At night I see what seems like visions ? of past trauma and it makes shake and cry uncontrollably.
This has gone for years. Im proud of myself for staying alive for this long.
I feel sorry for how my actions will affect others but this is the most selfish and selfless action I'll ever do in my life.
It's liberating and terrifying at the same time.
Please try to understand that I tried my best to get better and live with the depression and thoughts. I tried my absolute best and it still wasnt enough.
Ive lost my career friends and everything else because of it. I thought once im healthier than I can move on in my life but theres a couple weeks where im okay and then its the same thing again.
I cant keep living in fear of when the next episode will come.
My poor parents do so much for me and they are also tired i want to give them some rest. My death will be eaiser to bear than dealing with me alive.
its eaiser to say my daughter has passed vs shes at home taking medication.
I hope you all understand. Thank you.

Feel free to make art of these redesigns and give criticism of the designs
Redesigns: Heatblast Redesign: Sleeker with magma-like veins glowing beneath his rocky exterior. Equipment: Volcanic Gauntlets that enhance his fire abilities. Outfit: A flame-retardant suit with a core reactor symbol on the chest.
Diamondhead Redesign: Crystalline armor with reflective surfaces and sharper edges. Equipment: A crystal shield that can morph into different defensive shapes. Outfit: A suit with geometric patterns that shimmer with a diamond-like brilliance.
XLR8 Redesign: More aerodynamic with streamlined armor and a visor for high-speed travel. Equipment: Turbo boots that leave a trail of blue energy when he sprints. Outfit: A racing suit with a sleek helmet that has a retractable visor.
Fourarms Redesign: Bulkier with reinforced joints for extra strength. Equipment: Heavy-duty gauntlets that can smash through barriers. Outfit: A gladiator-inspired ensemble with a belt displaying his alien number.
Stinkfly Redesign: Brighter colors with translucent wings and bioluminescent spots. Equipment: A harness that helps distribute healing mist more effectively. Outfit: A lightweight suit that glows in the dark, highlighting his flight path.
Upgrade Redesign: Futuristic with a sleek metallic finish and circuit patterns. Equipment: A modular backpack that can transform into various tech gadgets. Outfit: A tech-suit that integrates with his body, allowing for seamless transformations.
Ghostfreak Redesign: More ethereal with a ghostly aura and chains that represent his phasing ability. Equipment: Ectoplasmic chains that can extend and bind enemies. Outfit: A tattered cloak that billows as if always caught in an otherworldly wind.
Snare-oh Redesign: Ancient Egyptian motifs with hieroglyphs etched into his bandages. Equipment: Ankh-shaped gauntlets that enhance his sand powers. Outfit: A pharaoh’s headdress that symbolizes his regal presence on the battlefield.
Frankenstrike Redesign: More industrial with visible bolts and conductive wiring. Equipment: A pair of Tesla coil shoulder pads that amplify his electric attacks. Outfit: A patchwork suit that resembles a mad scientist’s lab coat.
Eye Guy Redesign: Eyes of varying sizes with adaptive irises for different vision modes. Equipment: A visor that coordinates his eye beams for precision strikes. Outfit: A suit with lens patterns that focus his ocular energy.
Swampfire Redesign: More plant-like with vibrant green foliage and fiery red flowers. Equipment: Compost Gauntlets that enhance his regenerative abilities. Outfit: A botanical suit with leaf patterns and a fiery emblem on the chest.
Echo-Echo Redesign: Sleek and white with sound wave patterns across his body. Equipment: Sonic Amplifiers that boost his sound-based attacks. Outfit: A suit with a sound equalizer display that reacts to his sonic screams.
Humongosaur Redesign: Dinosaur-like with armored plating and a more pronounced tail. Equipment: Meteor Hammer fists that increase his smashing power. Outfit: A prehistoric-themed armor set with bone and rock elements.
Jetray Redesign: More streamlined with sharper wings and a jet engine-like back. Equipment: Aero Fins that improve his maneuverability in the air. Outfit: A flight suit with a sleek helmet and goggles for high-altitude visibility.
Big Chill Redesign: Ghostly with icy blue tones and frost-covered wings. Equipment: Frostbite Claws that leave a chilling effect on enemies. Outfit: A cloak that shimmers like thin ice and leaves a trail of frost.
Brainstorm Redesign: Brain-like patterns with neural connectors and a brighter shell. Equipment: Cerebral Enhancer that increases his psychic abilities. Outfit: A lab coat with a brainwave pattern and a utility belt for gadgets.
Goop Redesign: More viscous with glowing internal organs visible within. Equipment: Polarity Boots that allow him to stick to surfaces and maintain shape. Outfit: A containment suit that helps him keep form and focus his attacks.
Spidermonkey Redesign: More arachnid with additional eyes and spikier fur. Equipment: Web Slingers that shoot stronger and stickier webs. Outfit: A stealth suit with a spider emblem and grip-enhancing gloves and boots.
Loadstar Redesign: Magnetic with a core that glows when using his powers. Equipment: Gravitational Greaves that enhance his magnetic field control. Outfit: An armored suit with polarized plates that attract and repel metal.
Rath Redesign: Fiercer with more pronounced claws and tiger-like stripes. Equipment: Rage Amplifiers that boost his strength when his health is low. Outfit: A luchador-inspired costume with a mask that embodies his wild spirit.
Water Hazard Redesign: More aquatic with a sleeker, streamlined body and gill-like structures. Equipment: Aqua Cannons that can shoot high-pressure water streams. Outfit: A wetsuit with hydrodynamic patterns and a water drop emblem.
Ampfibian Redesign: More translucent with visible bio-electric currents flowing through his body. Equipment: Electro-Flippers that increase swimming speed and maneuverability. Outfit: A suit with neon trims that pulse with his electric charge.
Armodrillo Redesign: Bulkier with reinforced armor plating and drill bits. Equipment: Seismic Boots that enhance ground-shaking abilities. Outfit: A miner’s outfit with a helmet light and a rugged utility belt.
NRG Redesign: Glowing core with a more robust containment suit. Equipment: Reactor Gauntlets that can channel and shoot nuclear energy. Outfit: A radiation suit with a warning symbol and energy-absorbing layers.
Terraspin Redesign: Shell patterns resembling wind turbines and more pronounced fins. Equipment: Cyclone Discs that can be thrown to create gusts of wind. Outfit: An aviator jacket with a turtle shell pattern and wind direction arrows.
Clockwork Redesign: More gears and clockwork mechanisms visible with a timeless finish. Equipment: Chrono Keys that can unlock temporal abilities. Outfit: A steampunk-inspired suit with brass accents and a pocket watch.
Jury Rigg Redesign: More mechanical with tools integrated into his limbs. Equipment: Wrecking Ratchets that increase his dismantling speed. Outfit: A mechanic’s jumpsuit with patches and a tool belt.
Chamalien Redesign: More chameleon-like with adaptive skin that changes patterns. Equipment: Camo Cloak that enhances his stealth capabilities. Outfit: A suit with a chameleon scale motif that shifts colors with his movements.
Feedback Redesign: More electrically charged with pulsating energy lines across his body. Equipment: Antenna Arrays that increase the range and power of his electrical attacks. Outfit: A suit with circuitry patterns that glow with stored energy.
Bloxx Redesign: Modular with interlocking blocks that can reconfigure on the fly. Equipment: Building Bracers that allow for quicker construction of barriers and structures. Outfit: A construction-themed outfit with a hard hat emblem and utility belt.
Ball Weevil Redesign: Brighter colors with a more pronounced spherical body for rolling. Equipment: Plasma Cores that create larger and more potent explosive orbs. Outfit: A sleek suit with orb patterns and a visor that helps target his plasma globes.
Pesky Dust Redesign: Fairy-like with more delicate wings and a dreamy aura. Equipment: Dreamcatcher Net that can capture and amplify his sleep-inducing dust. Outfit: A mystical robe with star and moon motifs that enhance his magical presence.
Atomix Redesign: Radiant with a mini-reactor core and energy veins visible on his body. Equipment: Fusion Gauntlets that stabilize and focus his nuclear energy. Outfit: A hazard suit with a reactor symbol and protective plating.
Gutrot Redesign: Chemical tanks visible on his body with tubes connecting to his gauntlets. Equipment: Diffuser Mask that spreads his gases over a wider area. Outfit: A biochemical suit with a respirator and hazard symbols.
Whampire Redesign: More vampiric with bat-like features and a darker color scheme. Equipment: Echo-Locator Goggles that help him navigate and hunt in the dark. Outfit: A gothic cloak with a high collar and a clasp shaped like a bat.
Shocksquash Redesign: Bulkier with coils and capacitors integrated into his limbs. Equipment: Shock Boots that generate electricity with each stomp. Outfit: An electrified suit with lightning bolt patterns and insulated gloves.
Wildmutt Redesign: Enhanced sensory nodes and a more streamlined body for agility. Equipment: Sonic Collar that amplifies his roars and tracking abilities. Outfit: A sleek suit with padded armor to protect while maintaining flexibility.
Grey Matter Redesign: More pronounced cranial features and brighter skin to highlight his intelligence. Equipment: Quantum Computer Backpack that assists with hacking and strategy. Outfit: A miniaturized lab coat with various gadget holsters.
Ripjaws Redesign: Sharper teeth and fins, with a bioluminescent glow for underwater combat. Equipment: Aqua Jetpack that allows for swift movements in and out of water. Outfit: A reinforced diving suit with pressure resistance for deep-sea excursions.
Cannonbolt Redesign: A more aerodynamic shell with reinforced plating for rolling attacks. Equipment: Momentum Wheels that increase speed and control during rolls. Outfit: A racing stripe motif with impact-absorbing materials.
Wildvine Redesign: Thicker vines and a broader range of plant-like features. Equipment: Photosynthesis Boosters that enhance healing and growth abilities. Outfit: A botanical armor set with leafy camouflage.
Spitter Redesign: More pronounced glands and a wider mouth for his spitting attacks. Equipment: Hydration Pack that keeps him primed for slime production. Outfit: A moisture-retaining suit that helps in slime regeneration.
Buzzshock Redesign: Brighter electrical arcs and a more compact body for zipping around. Equipment: Static Amplifiers that boost his electrical output. Outfit: A suit with conductive pathways that glow with stored electricity.
Blitzwolfer Redesign: More pronounced fangs and claws, with a darker, more intimidating appearance. Equipment: Lunar Lenses that enhance his night vision and howling range. Outfit: A tattered cape that billows as he moves, adding to his fearsome presence.
Upchuck Redesign: A wider mouth and a more robust digestive system visible on his belly. Equipment: Digestive Accelerators that allow for quicker consumption and energy conversion. Outfit: A suit with reinforced areas around the stomach to handle his expansive appetite.
Ditto Redesign: Brighter colors and more expressive faces to differentiate his clones. Equipment: Cloning Belt that enhances the stability and independence of each clone. Outfit: A uniform with a number system to keep track of his duplicates.
Waybig Redesign: Cosmic patterns on his skin and a more imposing stature. Equipment: Stellar Stabilizers that help him maintain balance and leverage his size. Outfit: A suit with celestial motifs that reflect his cosmic origins.
Arctiguana Redesign: Icier appearance with sharper spines and a more pronounced frill. Equipment: Cryo Converters that enhance his ice beam’s freezing capabilities. Outfit: An insulated suit that protects him from overheating and helps focus his cold powers.
Chromastone Redesign: More prismatic with a crystalline structure that refracts light. Equipment: Prism Gauntlets that enhance his energy absorption and refraction abilities. Outfit: A suit with angular, reflective panels that mimic his crystalline form.
Alien X Redesign: Cosmic and ethereal with starry patterns that shift and change. Equipment: Celestial Scepter that focuses his reality-warping powers. Outfit: A robe that seems to contain a piece of the universe, complete with twinkling stars.
Nanomech Redesign: Sleeker with more advanced nanotechnology features. Equipment: Micro-Assembler that allows him to construct various devices on the fly. Outfit: A tech-enhanced suit that adjusts to his size changes.
Fasttrack Redesign: Streamlined with aerodynamic features for enhanced speed. Equipment: Velocity Vambraces that boost his speed and agility. Outfit: A racing suit with dynamic lines that glow when he accelerates.
Eatle Redesign: Bulkier with a reinforced exoskeleton and sharper mandibles. Equipment: Digestive Reinforcement Belt that aids in processing consumed materials. Outfit: A utility belt with compartments for storing consumed materials.
Gravattack Redesign: More planetary with a core that glows like a molten core. Equipment: Graviton Anchor that helps him control his gravitational fields. Outfit: A suit with orbiting bands that represent his control over gravity.
Crashhopper Redesign: More insectoid with enhanced leg hydraulics for powerful jumps. Equipment: Impact Dampeners that protect him during high-velocity landings. Outfit: A suit with spring-loaded accents that highlight his leaping abilities.
Walkatrout Redesign: More amphibious with sleek scales and a streamlined body. Equipment: Aqua-Dynamic Fins that improve his swimming and maneuverability. Outfit: A wetsuit with a slippery surface to aid in evasive maneuvers.
Molestache Redesign: More distinguished with a larger, more versatile mustache. Equipment: Mustache Combs that can be used as weapons or tools. Outfit: A Victorian-style suit with a bow tie and a monocle for a touch of class.
The Worst Redesign: Tougher looking with visible scars and a more rugged appearance. Equipment: Resilience Amplifiers that make him even harder to take down. Outfit: A battered suit that looks like it’s been through many battles.
Kickin Hawk Redesign: Sharper talons and more pronounced feathers for a fiercer look. Equipment: Talon Enhancers that increase the power of his kicks. Outfit: A martial arts gi with feathered accents that flutter as he moves.
Toepick Redesign: Darker and more ominous with a face that’s hidden until revealed. Equipment: Fear Inducers that amplify the terror he instills in enemies. Outfit: A cloak that shrouds him in mystery, only opening to unleash his frightful visage.
Astrodactyl Redesign: More alien with wing membranes that glow with cosmic energy. Equipment: Jetpack Harness that enhances his flight and energy projection. Outfit: A suit with aerodynamic features and a helmet with a visor for space travel.
Bullfrag Redesign: More muscular with amphibious traits and a tougher skin texture. Equipment: Strength Enhancers that boost his physical prowess. Outfit: A tactical vest with various pouches for carrying mission essentials.

hi, it's me! local princess looking for someone to get to know and develop a relationship with. the princess stuff is mostly a joke. i am a chill healthcare professional beginning my PhD studies. i have a lot of responsibilities between work and family, so at the moment i just want someone to comfort me and make me feel like a princess.
please be willing to call me tonight! i really need help falling asleep. but it's okay if that's not possible. we can talk tomorrow or whenever you're free. even though i'm anxious now, i know it'll pass. but it'll be great if i can be soothed to sleep :)
i enjoy reading and writing academically but also poetry and fiction. i like to cook and bake. I like crocheting and embroidery. lots of grandma things. and i'm a gamer i think. n my favorite game is league of legends. i can play rift but prefer TFT atm.
anyways, hope to talk soon. having a bad night sigh thanks for reading x

Yes, I had a lot of time. I originally played this game when it launched during the pandemic and stopped at 1k trophies, and picked it up again ~3 years later. I want to share my thoughts about the last ~15 days while it's still fresh and answer any questions people might have.
I have a 43% win rate in 3600 BR games, and 300+ games with each of the following heroes: Angel, Bastion, Blizzard, Blot, Cyclops, Ghost, Levi, Lynx, Ramsay, Raven, Sparkle, Vi. I have the most fun with Angel, Raven, Ramsay, and Lynx.
I've unlocked every hero except Alice, paid for Blizzard and Vi.

Trophy Tiers

Broadly speaking, the percentage of poor players decreases as you gain higher trophies. Being completely honest, I saw a bunch of mistakes made by enemies, teammates, and myself at 9k trophies. At 10k+ trophies, most of the mistakes I see are my own.

Low Tier: <3k

I have a second account on an old phone at this tier that I use to play under powered / rarely used heroes in casual games. It's mostly bots and occasional humans with rudimentary gameplay.

Mid Tier: 3-7k

People are still misplaying all the time, but in general are improving and trying to coordinate as a team. Pickup teams are pretty easy to create and people are generally friendly. Honestly, I probably had the most fun at this tier since I enjoy playing the game casually with a variety of heroes and different team compositions (vs trying to win all the time).
There's still plenty of bots in offpeak hours.

High Tier: >7k

This is the first tier where it starts to get competitive. Relatedly, this is also the first tier I started seeing bad manners and griefing.
Early on when I was around 2k, I teamed up with some high trophy players and played in 10k games. That's when I learned first hand how much faster and aggressive the game was. On certain maps (Bank, Village, Hotel), fights will often initiate after picking up ~2 items.
As for bad manners, I'm used to it from playing plenty of other online games but enjoyed the fact that Bullet Echo largely doesn't have it. However at 7k+, now you get a lot of people bm'ing when they kill you, if two people fight over an item, etc. It most commonly manifests as sprays/stickers, but also a lot of head shaking and the occasional teamkill grenade for taking "their" item.
Pickup teams are a lot more mercenary. People join up, and if the team loses most will leave; there's little to no chat banter anymore. If someone misplays a few times, they often get kicked from the team, the team is disbanded, and/or they get defriended. This, uhh, has totally never happened to me.

10k

The "end game." Heroes' power typically ranges 1650 - 2200 (Ultimate level 70 to Immortal), with the occasional Divine player. There's relatively few bots during peak times.
The games are fast and brutal, and any small mistake is quickly exploited. My winrate has dropped significantly even when playing my better characters, but I'm learning. Pre-10k, I'd typically open 3x battle and skull chests under 30 minutes. Now, opening battle and skull chests has become significantly harder.

Bravery Road

I don't have any experience with this tier since I lack Divine heroes. Others have shared that it's mostly full of bots.

Heroes

Tier List

This is based on 9k+ trophy BR in the hands of a good player:

• S: Vi, Lynx, Mirage
• A: Blizzard, Ramsay, Raven, Dragoon, Angel, Freddie, Arnie
• B: Firefly, Shenji, Ghost, Alice, Leviathan, Hurricane, Satoshi, Sparkle, Tess, Levi
• C: Blot, Bertha, Doc, Cyclops, Slayer
• D: Bastion, Stalker, Smog

Bastion

Bastion is great for bot farming and low / mid tier gameplay, but is easily outplayed in 7k+ games. I had a bunch of mid tier Bastion friends that I invited to 7k+ games and they've always left after a few games due to being outplayed.
Outplaying Bastion is usually done through kiting or baiting and flanking with teammates since their range is too short and movement speed is too slow. Bastion (and Blot to an extent) is outclassed by more mobile shield heroes: Angel, Hurricane, Satoshi.
Leviathan gets a special call out since his turret is great for zoning and has extended spray that can be abused to hit behind walls.

Grenade Users (Firefly/Shenji/Sparkles/Freddie)

Pre-10k, most of these are terrible nade spammers hoping to get an easy kill. I've seen so many Firefly users use more nades than bullets in a round, adding little value chucking nades into thin air. Shenji users, please use your nades to zone the enemies and less about trying to kill them. Also stop burning the grass because you can, especially when you're up against snipers.

Vi

My win rate with Vi is significantly higher than the rest of the field, which shows how broken she is. I think she needs to be nerfed, and she's my most played and highest leveled character (Stellar).
I also have some bad experiences after teaming up with a bunch of Vi-only tryhards (about 6-8 different teammates for 5+ games each). They're generally incredibly aggressive and good at racking up a high kill count, but often lack map awareness or team dynamics besides spamming, "Let's go!".

Tips

League

Climb as fast as you can, as high as you can since you get more loot per chest depending on your league level, and streaking gets harder the higher you climb in trophies. Bot farming (read below) is the easiest way to streak games and hit the next league level.
I think there is an argument to be made about staying in purple 1. I found it significantly easier to win most of the contracts at purple 1, but I was grouped with all the other grinders once I hit purple 2. This may or may not be a red herring.

Spending Money

Contracts

• 7 day contract hacks (and assuming you have enough time to grind) is the most effective use of money.
• Consistently winning the 21 hr contract for 300 jokers is critical.
• 3 hr contract (particularly in off hours) can be pretty easy to win for 20 jokers.
• Read the contracts carefully. Often you can use a hero to progress against 2 or more contracts simultaneously.
• Bot farming and SvS is usually the easiest way to quickly get contract points.
• Ghost in koth is a great way to grind "The Collector" contract.

Star Pass

• I don't mind spending $15 to get the new hero via the base pass, but I don't think the premium pass is worth it.
• I didn't get tiers 2 and 3 for Vi but still got her to Stellar with a lot of grinding via contract hacks and jokers.

Technology

It's $10/mo. You get a random hero motivated and 8 drone plugins (2 of each color) per week, and 10 tech tokens/day. 70 tech tokens/week is enough to get drone blueprints, 2xpersonal gears boxes, some squad gear, 500 nuts, and 5 costume tokens. Also your name is highlighted in gold.
I think it's great for the first month or two for the personal gear and drone parts, but not sure if it's worth keeping afterwards.

Bots

Recognizing bots means you can adapt your strategy when playing with and against them.

Identification

Pre-game

• in the same bot syndicates: CCCP, Botsavethequeen, Botdamnit, 486DX, etc
• are listed after human players
• don't have drones
• never play as the newer characters: Blizzard, Vi, Shenji, Ramsay, Lynx, Tess

You start recognizing the bot names after a few hundred games.

In game

• immediately opens chests
• goes in a straight line while swinging their flashlight, humans tend to run with their flashlight facing forward except when checking corners
• doesn't use any abilities

Farming (BR, SvS, sabo, koth)

Bot farming is a great way to hit the streak for a league jump or grind for festival tokens.
I find sabo, SvS, and sometimes arcade in offpeak hours (or other region's servers) the easiest modes for bot farming.
Generally bots will collect a few items and start roaming looking for enemies. If a firefight ensues, the bots will start swarming towards noise like zombies.
The best characters to farm bots are those that can do a lot of damage without taking any themselves. Since bots will run in a straight line towards you, assault rifles and snipers excel at bot farming.

• Recommended heroes: Bastion, Satoshi, Blot, Hurricane, Levi, Firefly, Blizzard, Cyclops
• Not recommended: Ghost/Stalker (bots are not affected by cloak), Slayer (fire rate is too slow), SMG users (can't reload fast enough when swarmed)

As teammates

It sucks to get bots as teammates, but if you understand their behavior you can take advantage of it to try and win the round.

• don't get sucked into unnecessary fights, let them die and don't bother reviving
• use them as dumb scouts to flank the enemy
• treat the round as a training exercise on how to win one-vs-many fights. It'll happen more and more often as you climb trophies

Drones

• medpro is great for tanks, assault rifles, and attacking SMGs (Angel, Alice, Freddie, Ghost)
• zenith is great for snipers, Raven/Ghost, 10k+ games
• guard is useless except for the occasional ability to zone enemies

Zenith gets increasingly valuable in 7k+ games as you never have time to revive and/or enemies will camp dead bodies. Zenith's ability to revive through walls can also be exploited.

In game tactics

This is already a long post, so I'll brain dump common improvements / mistakes that I come across. Feel free to ask questions in the comments.

• Don't be greedy and go after risky upgrades. More often than not you're going to get sucked into an early fight. Even if you win that one, you'll quickly get swarmed by bots and/or other teams. It's not worth losing a round because you might get a purple upgrade.
• Don't be greedy for early ammo and upgrades. In 7k+ games, fights can/will happen by the time you've picked up 1-2 items. Taking multiple ammo means losing an effective teammate that can shoot a weapon. If you're a low ammo user (e.g. Vi, Slayer, Bastion), opt for a 2x or 3x ammo pack and leave the 4x ammo pack for high ammo users (e.g. SMGs, assault rifles). Leave and ping optimal upgrades for teammates. This means reserving scopes for snipers, armor for machine gunners, extended magazine for SMG/shotgunners, explosive ammo for DPS.
• Shotgun users should heal at spawn and save the armor pickup for others.
• Generally stick together as a team.
• Don't follow suiciders (bots/humans) and get sucked into unnecessary fights, preferring to fight 2v3v3v3. Yes this conflicts with the above bullet point.
• Learn the map. This means knowing where are the spawns, purple chests, hot zones, and choke points. This means you can anticipate where you'll need to slow down and prepare for a fight (e.g. early game near purple chests). In low/mid tiers, human teammates often run straight for a neighboring spawn while completely ignoring the safe purple chest right behind them because they run straight ahead in the direction they were facing when spawned. I find it easiest to familiarize myself with maps by using heroes with high vision like snipers (particularly Lynx) and Raven.
• Develop map awareness. You can tell who is left based on the gun sounds and the weapon in kill notifications. Generally avoid fights with many teams remaining, and go after the last two teams as they're fighting. If machine gunners are remaining, try to find open spaces. If snipers are remaining, try to initiate fights near corners and obstacles. In low/mid tiers, human teammates will often emulate bots and run straight towards the fight with a complete lack of map awareness.
• Good Shenji users use grenades to zone enemies rather than outright damage. Bad Shenji users kill their teammates / prevent them from being useful. If you're playing with a Shenji teammate, expect that they're going to nade everything and act accordingly.
• Tess users should try to use the lightning ball judiciously against enemy shields or to zone, and not disable their teammates' shields and abilities.
• Cyclops/Raven users should not spam their skill early game, and used selectively late game. It gives away your position and in high tier games only invites unwanted attention. Learn to use scan offensively and defensively when appropriate. At higher trophies, it can be used as a feint for an invasion or to lure enemies into a trap.
• SMG users should use stimpacks offensively rather than only to heal.
• There is a time to initiate and time to fall back. In early/mid tiers, people need to learn to retreat more often (and communicate it to their teammates). I wish I had more actionable advice, but I can tell when a fight was initiated well or poorly. Don't attack that unsuspecting enemy just because you can, but attack if it's the right time to do so.

tldr

I thoroughly enjoyed playing Bullet Echo, bots and all.

15M. I want to start off by saying that I am not judging anyone. I've taken the whole, "Who are you to judge me, only Allah can judge me, don't judge me," nonsense hundreds of times. I just want to clarify that it is not my intention to put anyone down.
I reverted to Islam about 6 months ago and I have been learning as much as I can about the religion from reliable scholar's and following Allah's commands to the best of my ability.
I want Islam to have a good image, and I want others to join Islam as well. But at the same time, I don't want its followers to start putting fitnah into practicing believers. I know people take time to adapt to changes, but you can tell they're genuine because they know they have a problem that they're working on. However, I'm talking about people who sin but then use the Deen to justify it. They use statements like, "It's between me and Allah, and only Allah can judge me."
Yes, it is between you and Allah and yes, only Allah can judge you. But my problem is, is that they put a negative look onto Islam and twist not only the religion but also the Prophet (SWS) by saying things about him that aren't even true. My reason is that it is fitnah for Muslims and it also makes non-Muslim repel Islam because non-Muslims don't read Qur'an and don't read sunnah, they read you.
I've dealt with this and still am. I've started lowering my gaze, not having physical contact with non-mahram women. I've stopped visiting family when there is music, free mixing, women without hijab, smoking, and drinking. I've stopped watching movies. I'm sad that I've had to cut these off but I know it's for my own good. But many Muslims who I know have seen my religious shift and now that I have changed they say things like, "Don't turn into a Mawlawi, your being an extremist, you're being disrespectful (When kindly refusing to shake hands with non-mahrams), this is just a phase and you'll learn to be more moderate one day, etc."
I believe that I can handle the fitnah that some people bring to Islam, but I don't want others to go astray because of them.
Overall, I feel like it's wrong for me to feel irritated by this but I want to know what you guys think and whether or not my feeling is justified.
اَلسَلامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ ٱللَّٰهِ وَبَرَكَاتُهُ