Trades only - no sales.
I have a huge wanted list below but will look at offers/lists. I'm also interested in merch/magazines/books from Castlevania, Bubble Bobble/Rainbow Islands, Earthbound/Mother, PacMan series.
I'm would also trade for LEGO sets.
Have Consoles/Handhelds (photos of handhelds):

• Sega Saturn Console (Black, Model 1, VA0)
  • w/ Fenrir ODE (CD drive has been removed but can be included - but it doesn't work)
  • SD Card with Fenrir software, some games included
  • Action Replay
  • Retrovision YPbPr Component Cable
  • RGB Scart Cable
  • 3D Control Pad
  • Wireless Bluetooth Controller + Receiver
• Nintendo DS Lite (Black)

Have Misc:

• Fallout 4 Pip-Boy Model 3000 (Limited Edition with carrying case) & Game (PS4)

Have Games:

Game	System	Condition
A Robot Named Fight	Switch	New
A Magical High-School Girl	Switch	New
Agatha Christie - Hercule Poirot: The London Case	Switch	New
Akiba's Trip: Hellbound & Debriefed [10th Anniversary Edition]	Switch	CIB
American Hero	Switch	New
Astro Aqua Kitty Pawsome Collection	Switch	New
Battle Axe	Switch	CIB
Button Button Up!	Switch	New
Carrion	Switch	New
Cotton REBOOT	Switch	New
Cotton Rock N Roll [Japan]	Switch	CIB
Dead Cells	Switch	Case + Cart (No art-book)
Dead Cells [Prisoners Edition]	Switch	New
Demon Throttle	Switch	CIB
DoDonPachi Resurrection	Switch	CIB
Elliot Quest	Switch	CIB
Fresh Start	Switch	SIB
For the King (PEGI)	Switch	CIB
Koumajou Remilia Scarlet Symphony [Japan]	Switch	CIB
My Time at Sandrock	Switch	SIB
Minenko's Night Market	Switch	SIB
Narita Boy	Switch	CIB
Ninja Jajamaru Collection [Japan]	Switch	CIB
Oddworld: Stranger's Wrath HD	Switch	New
Our World is Ended [Day 1 Edition]	Switch	CIB
RPGolf Legends	Switch	CIB
Space Warlord Organ Trading Simulator	Switch	CIB
Stellar Interface	Switch	New
Train Valley Collection	Switch	New
Where the Water Tastes like Wine [Collector's Edition]	Switch	New
Zengeon	Switch	New
Flashback (Steelbook only)	Switch	Steelbook Only - No game

Game	System	Condition
Cosmic Star Heroine	Vita	New
Axiom Verge Multiverse Edition	Vita	New
Aqua Kitty DX	Vita	New
Atari Flashback Classics	Vita	CIB
Axiom Verge Multiverse Edition	Vita	New
Guacamelee	Vita	CIB
Iconoclasts	Vita	CIB
La-Mulana EX	Vita	New
Mutant Mudds Deluxe	Vita	New
Mutant Mudds Super Challenge	Vita	New
NeuroVoider	Vita	New
Oceanhorn	Vita	New
Penny Punching Princess	Vita	CIB
Risk of Rain	Vita	New
Shakedown Hawaii	Vita	New
Skullgirls 2nd Encore	Vita	New

Game	System	Condition
8 Doors Arium's Afterlife Adventure	PS4	New
Afterimage: Deluxe Edition	PS4	New
Afterparty	PS4	New
Aggelos	PS4	New
Airoheart	PS4	CIB
Akai Katana Shin	PS4	New
Alchemic Cutie	PS4	New
Aliens Dark Descent	PS4	New
American Hero	PS4	New
Ambition Record	PS4	New
Another Crusade	PS4	New
Arcade Paradise	PS4	New
Armello Special Edition	PS4	New
Atari Recharged Collection 1	PS4	New
Atari Recharged Collection 2	PS4	New
Atari Mania	PS4	New
Beholder 3	PS4	New
Bill & Ted's Excellent Retro Collection	PS4	New
Bit.Trip Presents Runner2	PS4	CIB
Blade Assault	PS4	New
Crash Team Rumble	PS4	New
Crisis Wing	PS4	New
Church in the Darkness	PS4	New
Danmaku Unlimited 3	PS4	New
Dissidia Final Fantasy NT: SteelBook Brawler Edition	PS4	New
Don't Starve Mega Pack	PS4	CIB
Dragon Prana	PS4	New
Dragon Sinker Descendents of Legend	PS4	CIB
Elder Scrolls Online: Summerset	PS4	CIB
Embers of Mirrim	PS4	New
Ender Lilies Quietus Of The Knights	PS4	New
Evernights	PS4	New
Exoprimal	PS4	New
Fallout 4	PS4	CIB
Flashback	PS4	CIB
Gal Guardians: Demon Purge	PS4	New
Ghost Song	PS4	New
Gimmick Special Edition	PS4	New
Gleylancer & Gynoug Combo Pack	PS4	New
God of Rock	PS4	New
Grim Fandango Remastered	PS4	CIB
GrimGrimoire OnceMore [Deluxe Edition]	PS4	New
Island Flight Simulator	PS4	New
Just Dance 2019	PS4	New
Just Deal with It	PS4	CIB
Kero Blaster	PS4	New
La Mulana 2 [Hidden Treasures Edition]	PS4	New
Lord Of The Rings: Gollum	PS4	New
MechWarrior 5: Mercenaries	PS4	New
Mega Man Battle Network Legacy Collection	PS4	New
Mercanaries Blaze Dawn of the Twin Dragons	PS4	New
Metal Tales Overkill	PS4	New
Minecraft Legends [Deluxe Edition]	PS4	New
Minoria	PS4	New
Mitsurugi Kamui Hikae	PS4	CIB
Moonlighter	PS4	New
Narcosis	PS4	CIB
Noob The Factionless	PS4	New
Overrogue	PS4	New
ONI: Road To Be The Mightiest Oni	PS4	New
Paradise Killer	PS4	New
Pong Quest	PS4	New
Psikyo Shooting Library Vol. 1	PS4	New
PsychoNauts 2 [Motherlobe Edition]	PS4	New
Raiden III x MIKADO MANIAX	PS4	New
Rainbow Billy - The Curse Of The Leviathan	PS4	New
Rock Band 4	PS4	CIB
Roller Coaster Tycoon Adventures Deluxe	PS4	New
Saturnalia	PS4	New
Shadow Warrior [Definitve Edition]	PS4	New
Shantae	PS4	New
Siralim 2	PS4	New
Skelattack	PS4	New
SOL CRESTA Dramatic Edition	PS4	CIB
Song of Memories	PS4	CIB
Star Ocean The Second Story R	PS4	New
Tchia: Oleti Edition	PS4	New
The Last Spell	PS4	New
The Sorrowvirus	PS4	New
The Witch Knight [Deluxe Edition]	PS4	New
Tiger Heli Toaplan Arcade Garage	PS4	New
To The Top	PS4	CIB
Trek to Yoki	PS4	New
Trip World DX	PS4	New
Turnip Boy Commits Tax Evasion	PS4	New
Under The Waves	PS4	New
Vengeful Guardian Moonrider	PS4	New
Wanted: Dead	PS4	New
Warhammer 40K: Inquisitor - Martyr	PS4	New
Wordhunters	PS4	CIB
Wytchwood	PS4	New
Ys: Memories of Celceta	PS4	New

Game	System	Condition
8Doors: Arum's Afterlife Adventure	PS5	New
A Boy and His Blob Retro Collection	PS5	New
Afterimage [Deluxe Edition]	PS5	New
Agatha Christie Hercule Poirot	PS5	New
Alex Kidd In Miracle World DX	PS5	New
Anodyne 2 Return to Dust	PS5	New
Astro Aqua Kitty	PS5	New
Atari Recharged Collection 3	PS5	New
Buddy Simulator 1984	PS5	New
Dead Island 2 [Day One Edition]	PS5	New
Demon Gaze Extra [Day One Edition]	PS5	New
Eiyuden Chronicle Rising	PS5	New
Fantavision 202X	PS5	New
Gale of Windoria	PS5	New
God Of Rock	PS5	New
Goodbye World	PS5	New
Granblue Fantasy Relink Deluxe Edition	PS5	New
Greyhill Incident [Abducted Edition]	PS5	New
HITMAN: World of Assassination	PS5	New
Killer Frequency	PS5	New
LEGO 2K Drive	PS5	New
Mon-Yu	PS5	New
My Time at Sandrock	PS5	New
Noob The Factionless	PS5	New
Raiden III x MIKADO MANIAX	PS5	New
Shadowrun Trilogy	PS5	New
Shantae	PS5	New
Song In The Smoke Rekindled	PS5	New
Sonic Frontiers	PS5	New
Spells and Secrets	PS5	New
Starsand	PS5	New
Super Bomberman R 2	PS5	New
Synth Riders [Remastered Edition]	PS5	New
The Artful Escape	PS5	New
The Forest Cathedral	PS5	New
The Invincible	PS5	New
The Last Worker	PS5	New
The Legend of Legacy HD Remastered - Deluxe Edition	PS5	New
The Talos Principle 2	PS5	New
This Way Madness Lies	PS5	New
Tiny Troopers Global Ops	PS5	New
TOEM	PS5	New
Transport Fever 2 Console Edition	PS5	New

Game	System	Condition
Fragrant Story	3DS	CIB
Cartoon Network Battle Crashers	3DS	CIB

Game	System	Condition
Street Combat	SNES	Loose

Wanted:

Airoheart	Switch
Afterimage	Switch
Aeterna Noctis	Switch
Castle Crashers	Switch
Gunvolt Chronicles: Luminous Avenger iX	Switch
Gunvolt Chronicles: Luminous Avenger iX 2	Switch
Cult of the Lamb	Switch
Dredge	Switch
Pikmin 1 + 2	Switch
Pikmin 4	Switch
Return to Monkey Island	Switch
Star Ocean The Second Story R	Switch
Sea of Stars	Switch
Neon Abyss	Switch
Prince of Persia The Lost Crown	Switch
Stellar Wanderer DX	Switch
Kirby’s Return to Dream Land™ Deluxe	Switch
Sonic Origins	Switch
Sonic Superstars	Switch
TMNT Shredder's Revenge Anniversary Edition	Switch
The Legend of Steel Empire
Switch
Trouble Witches Final! Episode 01	Switch
Vagante	Switch
Overdriven Evolution	Switch
Revita	Switch
INSCRYPTION	Switch
Retro City Rampage DX	Switch
Xenoblade Chronicles 2	Switch
Xenoblade Chronicles 3	Switch
Wytchwood	Switch

Lumines Electronic Symphony	Vita
Knytt Underground	Vita

Nanostray	DS
Nanostray 2	DS
Etrian Odyssey	DS
River King Mystic Valley	DS
Castlevania: Dawn of Sorrow (BOX ONLY)	DS
Final Fantasy IV	DS
Ys 1 & II	DS

Famicom Disk System (Drive and cartridge adapter)	Famicom
Rainbow Islands	NES
Bubble Bobble Part 2	NES
Over Horizon	NES
Little Samson	NES
Fester's Quest [PAL]	NES
Guardian Legend	NES
Chack'n Pop	NES
Sqoon	NES
Castlevania 3	Famicom
Insector X	Famicom

Dig Dug	Game Boy
Aerostar	Game Boy
Atomic Punk	Game Boy
Gradius Interstellar Assault	Game Boy
Bonk's Revenge	Game Boy
GB Gengin Land [Japan]	Game Boy
Genjin Collection [Japan]	Game Boy
Blaster Master Boy	Game Boy
Parasol Stars	Game Boy
Felix the Cat	Game Boy
Trax	Game Boy
Mega Man 4	Game Boy
Mega Man 5	Game Boy
Momotarou Dengeki Thunderbolt [Japan]	Game Boy
Momotarou Dengeki Thunderbolt 2 [Japan]	Game Boy
Parodius Da! [Japan]	Game Boy
Pokemon Silver	Game Boy
Mole Mania	Game Boy
Operation C	Game Boy
Snow Brothers	Game Boy
Sneaky Snakes	Game Boy
Great Greed	Game Boy
Tiny Toon Adventures: Babs' Big Break	Game Boy
Rescue Of Princess Blobette	Game Boy
The Battle of Olympus	Game Boy
Sagaia [Japan]	Game Boy
Rod Land	Game Boy
Bubble Bobble Part 2	Game Boy
Knight's Quest	Game Boy
Mystical Ninja Starring Goemon	Game Boy
Sword of Hope	Game Boy
Sword of Hope II	Game Boy
Tetris Plus	Game Boy

Dragon Warrior Monsters II: Tara's Adventure	Game Boy Color
Lufia: The Legend Returns	Game Boy Color
MegaMan Xtreme 2	Game Boy Color
Revelations: The Demon Slayer	Game Boy Color

Bubble Bobble Old and New	Game Boy Advance
Fire Emblem	Game Boy Advance
Shining Soul	Game Boy Advance
Shining Soul 2	Game Boy Advance
Lufia: The Ruins of Lore	Game Boy Advance
Klonoa	Game Boy Advance
Summon Night Swordcraft Story	Game Boy Advance
Summon Night Swordcraft Story 2	Game Boy Advance
Ninja Five-O	Game Boy Advance
Sigma Star Saga	Game Boy Advance
Shaman King - Master of Spirits	Game Boy Advance
Shaman King - Master of Spirit 2	Game Boy Advance
Advance Wars	Game Boy Advance

The Adventure of Little Ralph [Japan]	PS1
Wonder Trek [Japan]	PS1
Harmful Park [Japan]	PS1
Tomba	PS1
Final Fantasy 9	PS1
Wild Arms	PS1
Dragon Quest VII	PS1
SaGa Frontier II	PS1
Lunar: Silver Star Story Complete	PS1
Mega Man Legends	PS1
Mega Man Legends 2	PS1
R-type Delta	PS1
Thunder Force V - Perfect System	PS1
The Misadventures of Tron Bonne	PS1
Klonoa: Door to Phantomile	PS1
Parrapa The Rapper	PS1
Darius Gaiden	PS1

Taito Legends	PS2
Taito Legends 2	PS2

Alexay	SNES
Brandish	SNES
The Legend of the Mystical Ninja	SNES
Lufia & the Fortress of Doom	SNES
Lufia II: Rise of the Sinistrals	SNES
Dracula X	SNES
The Firemen [PAL]	SNES
Kirby Superstar	SNES
Kirby's Dreamcourse	SNES
Kirby's Dreamland 3	SNES
Brainlord	SNES
Parodius [PAL]	SNES
Skyblazer	SNES
R-Type III	SNES
Soul blazer	SNES
Star fox	SNES
The Twisted Tales of Spike McFang	SNES
Terranigma	SNES
Dragon View	SNES
EVO Search for Eden	SNES
Super Aleste (Space MegaForce)	SNES

Dragon Crystal	Game Gear
Aerial Assault	Game Gear
Aleste	Game Gear
Aleste 2 (Power Strike II)	Game Gear

Golvellius	Master System
Aerial Assault	Master System
Bubble Bobble	Master System
Rainbow Islands	Master System
Sagaia	Master System
Gulkave	Master System
Transbot	Master System
Psychic World	Master System

Sagaia	Genesis/Mega Drive
Rainbow Islands Extra	Genesis/Mega Drive
Bio-Hazard Battle	Genesis/Mega Drive
Lightening Force: Quest for the Darkstar	Genesis/Mega Drive
Thunder Force 2	Genesis/Mega Drive
Thunder Force 3	Genesis/Mega Drive
Hellfire	Genesis/Mega Drive
Zero Wing	Genesis/Mega Drive
Gaiares	Genesis/Mega Drive
Chiki Chiki Boys	Genesis/Mega Drive
Operation Code:Vapor Trail	Genesis/Mega Drive
Fatal Labrynth	Genesis/Mega Drive

Aldynes	TG16
Air Zonk	TG16
Neutopia	TG16
Neutopia 2	TG16
Dead Moon	TG16
1941	TG16
Momotaro Katsugeki	TG16
Download	TG16
Final Soldier	TG16
Aero Blasters	TG16
Hana Taaka Daka	TG16
Truxton (Tatsujin)	TG16
Salamander	TG16
Override	TG16
R-Type [HuCard]	TG16
Raiden	TG16
Cloud Master	TG16
Burning Angels	TG16
Coryoon	TG16
Magical Chase	TG16
Mr Heli	TG16
Bouken Danshaku Dan The Lost Sunheart	TG16
Castlevania: Rondo of Blood	TG16 CD
Rainbow Islands	TG16 CD
Super Darius II	TG16 CD
Psychic Storm	TG16 CD
Download 2	TG16 CD
Gradius 2	TG16 CD
Terraforming	TG16 CD
Star Parodia	TG16 CD
Rayxanber II	TG16 CD
Rayxanber III	TG16 CD
Legion	TG16 CD
Super Raiden	TG16 CD
Metamor Jupiter	TG16 CD
Sylphia	TG16 CD
Sapphire	TG16 CD
Nexzr	TG16 CD
Cho Aniki	TG16 CD
Zero Wing	TG16 CD
Hellfire	TG16 CD

Receive a flat 10% off your next purchase if you spend more than $100, and receive one cache free when you pay full amount in advance(Purchase amount min 60$).
*Reservations are made so that I am sure you will buy from me and you'll not back off.
100% Sets delivered On Time .
To reserve an item/set you need to pay 25% of the price in advance.
The reservation fee is non-refundable and will be deducted from the total payment.
**Accepted payment options in order : Dota2 / CS:GO Items of the same value as the listed set price.
Profile Link : https://steamcommunity.com/id/Mist-san
Buyer goes first, no exceptions.
All conversations will be saved for safety and record.
Buyers go first; add me now if you're interested in a 30-day cooldown period.
Please leave a comment on my profile.
When reserving cache sets, a 25% reservation fee is required.
Keep in mind that for this deal you will need to have Steam Mobile Authenticator and wait for 30 days, so I can gift them to you.
also there might still be a limitation to gift only 8 bundles per day.
Updated Price List : 3-19-2024**(U)** = Unbundled set
Dota 2 collector's cache I & II 2020

Set	Hero	Price
Claszureme Incursion (Very Rare)	Faceless Void	70$ (sold out)
Steward of the Forbidden Chamber (Rare)	Templar Assassin	30$
Apocalypse Unbound	Ancient Apparition	12$
Fury of the Righteous Storm	Disruptor	6$
Signs of the Allfather	Nature's Prophet	15$
Lineage of the Stormlords	Juggernaut	40$
The King Of Thieves	Keeper of the Light	10$
Wrath of the Fallen	Doom	15$
Horror from the Deep	Tidehunter	25$
Talons of the Endless Storm	Chaos Knight	18$
Blaze of Oblivion	Phoenix	8$
Carousal of the Mystic Masquerade	Rubick	8$
Evolution of the Infinite	Enigma	8$
Clearcut Cavalier	Timbersaw	8$
Blacksail Cannoneer	Sniper	8$
Crown of Calaphas	Shadow demon	18$
Secrets of the Celestial	Skywrath mage	8$
Beast of the Crimson Ring	Bristleback	12$
Ire of the Ancient Gaoler (U)	Arc Warden	30$
Master of the Searing Path (U)	Ember Spirit	30$

Aghanim's 2021 Collector's Cache

Set	Hero	Price
Perception of the First Light	Dawnbreaker	18$
Forgotten Fate	Mars	10$
Perils of the Red Banks	Chen	12$
Stranger in the Wandering Isles (Unbundled)	Drow Ranger	50$
Pyrexae Polymorph Perfected ( Rare )	Ogre Magi	35$

Nemestice Collector's Cache 2021

Set	Hero	Price
Twilight Hex	Dark Willow	15$
Litany of the Damned	Doom	15$
Caerulean Star	Enchantress	8$
Eyriebound Imperator	Skywrath Mage	20$
Anthozoan Assault	Tiny	25$
Defender of the Brumal Crest	Winter Wyvern	15$
Indomitable Legacy ( Rare )	Sven	55$ (SOLD) Buyer

Diretide 2022 Collector's Cache I

Set	Hero	Price
Shadowleaf Insurgent	Hoodwink	$15
Scarlet Subversion	Riki	$15
Whippersnapper	Snapfire	$10
Hounds of Obsession	Chen	$10
Seadog's Stash	Clockwork	$10
Starlorn Adjudicator	Dawnbreaker	$15
Spoils of the Shadowveil	Spectre	$15
Trophies of the Hallowed Hunt	Ursa	$10
Crimson Dawn	Phoenix	$10
Forgotten Station	Terrorblade	$15
Dirge Amplifier	Undying	$15
Champion of the Fire Lotus	Monkey King	$10
Deathstitch Shaman	Witch Doctor	$10
Blue Horizons ( Rare )	Marci	$30
Angel of Vex ( Rare )	Invoker	$35
Dark Behemoth ( Very Rare )	Primal Beast	$50

Diretide 2022 Collector's Cache II

Set	Hero	Price
Transcendent Path	Oracle	$15
Darkfeather Factioneer	Phantom Assassin	$10
Freeboot Fortunes	Ogre Magi	$10

Link to their fundraiser. I'm not affiliated with Sunland-Tujunga Forward, I'm just excited to have Pride again in our crusty, dusty little piece of Los Angeles. I went last year and it was really cool. Very tiny, very nice people, mix of resources for mental health, spirituality, environmentalism, housing and support. Also crazy good tacos. I'd love it if people could throw a few dollars at our tiny Pride.

Hi,
Looking for options to own a home while currently renting in Los Angeles.
So here’s my plan:

• fine affordable land
• drop a tiny home or ADU on there
• call it a day

How realistic is this? What benefits or risks may be involved for a first time home or land buyer? Am I in the right subreddit for this question? What would you do to realistically get into a home in or around Los Angeles?
Thanks

My parents live in a rural neighborhood and my mom has found sickly kittens in her garden the last few years. They are all orange and have been adopted by me, my parents and my brother. My mom found an absolutely tiny one last week. The local shelter and rescues are full so my mom took him to the vet and they estimated that he was around 3 weeks old. They think that he was abandoned because he was the runt. My parents had a vacation planned so I am taking care of him for the next few weeks.
The vet tested him for FeLV and he was negative. They gave him treatment for worms. He is too young for vaccines. I have a cat (kitten they rescued 2 years ago) and dog, and am also watching my parents cat (kitten they rescued last summer). It has been crazy. The cats do not like each other but luckily my dog is an angel and tolerates all the crazy so kindly.
If the vet is correct, the kitten is about 4 weeks now. I have been feeding him kitten milk replacement (goat’s milk) and wet cat food. He seems to be doing well - eating, active and having bladder and bowel movements. I’ve never dealt with a kitten this young so I would love any advice you can provide.
He also needs a name - we have been calling him kitten and baby. Name suggestions please!
I will add a picture if I can figure out how. Thanks!!

TODAY'S RECAP

Sheila loves that she got to spook Li and delights in anticipation of revealing herself to the Forresters. We see the aftermath of Steffy, Ridge, and Liam accepting the truth. Neither Finn or Deacon knows their partners as well as they think they do.

Deacon and Sheila at Deacon's

Sheila: I'm glad I went to the hospital. Nothing was more fun than scaring the bejesus out of Li! 😄 (Sheila can't stop giggling). It couldn't have been more perfect -- Li being there. Hahaha!
Deacon: She was furiously attacking you, tryna send you to the grave, for real.
Sheila: I know! It was so much fucking fun! More fun than I've had in a long time. 😆 Poor Li, she was just jealous that Finn couldn't let me stay dead and felt compelled to save me! Hahahaha. Li couldn't take it! (💭 Suck it, Li!)
I know. I know. People wish me dead all the damned time. IDGAF. I'm used to it! 😏
Deacon: This is going to keep happening if you keep popping up 👻 and surprising people. 😛 You're going to get a similar reaction to Li 🤯😡😤💥 Hey, how about trying subtle?
Sheila: Fuck that. I like to go BIG! 😆 I expect people to react like Li. I'm looking forward to it. 😏 I can't wait! Hahaha. 😂🤣
Who will be most shocked? Brooke 😫 or Ridge 😡? Oooh, I sooo wanna roll on up into Eric's place. 👏👏👏 Whoooey! Fun! 🎉 Donna is a screamer! 😮 (💭 These bitches will all freak out beautifully in a perfect combination of shock 😳, fear 🫣, loathing 😠, and disbelief 😦. Hahaha. Yay! 🤸‍♀️).
It was so perfect how Li was just there. How can I orchestrate my reveal to the Forresters for maximum shock? 😀 I can pop in at FC and be the model who walks in to see Ridge for alterations! Hahaha! HAAAA! 🤭
Deacon: Does "changed'" Sheila just wanna shock people? (💭 Sheila Sheila Sheila. Gotta try to control the crazy 😵‍💫).
Sheila: OMG! You're no FUN! It's just a little SHOCK 😱. Not HARM! 😏 (💭 I'm not going to chop up 🪓, hang or tie up ➰, stab 🔪, drown 🌊, or shoot 🔫 anybody. I'm not going to set anyone's house on fire🔥 or chain ⛓️ them up in a dungeon ⛓️! I'm not going to kidnap any babies or children 👦👶👧, or trick anyone into getting my face 🙂. I'm not going to break in to anyone's home 🏠! That was the old Sheila! No one will end up murdered, kidnapped, bloody🩸, or otherwise injured 🤕, ffs! Gah! Calm down! It's just a little mischief 🙄😏).
I just want to have a little fun 🥳. Come on! Nothing nefarious 👿. Just prankster fun 🤪😝!
Deacon: So remember the nice, chill, mellow, 😌 happy, calm, quiet life we discussed? (💭 Imagine being a stoner and our biggest stressor is getting the munchies 🍕🥪🍚🍪🍰🥯🍟🥨when we're out of snacks and our favorite places are closed.) No fantasies about scaring 👻 people and getting reactions from the Forresters. Let's get back to us, our engagement, and our nice, quiet life. (Deacon, Reddit wonders if you actually KNOW Sheila 🤔).
Sheila: Ppffrrtt. (💭 Alright, fine, we'll seeeeeee😏.)
(Sheila and Deacon laugh 😄😀 and smoochy smoochy kissy kissy 😍🥰. Then Sheila is snuggled up with Deacon getting a shoulder massage.)
Sheila: I missed this. 😍 I missed you and thought about you the whole time. I didn't think I'd be back here. I was thisclose to 💀.
But, here I am! With you and my imaginary ring. 👋💍 😀 WOW!
Deacon: 🙄 No more pretending. I want everyone to know how in love 😍💕 I am with you. 🥰 (More smoochy smoochy 😘🥰.)

Hope, Ridge, and Liam at FC

Ridge and Liam: Sheila! Changed? 🤨 Wha? 😦Nah. Nope. No. No fucking way! 😠 Is Finn crazy? 😵‍💫 Delusional? Stupid? Wtf is his problem? 😤
Ridge: You must have gotten it wrong. It can't be.
Hope: No. Sheila is--
Ridge: NOOOOOOO! Grrrr. 😠 Gah! 😦 Not about SHEILA. I know. I KNOW. 🤨 I get it. I heard you. Sheila's alive. Fuck. But whatever. No. I mean about the other thing -- Finn idiotically thinking this is GOOD news. Growl! Huff! Puff! 😤On what planet could he POSSIBLY believe this is good news? How clueless is he?
Liam: (quickly hopping on the anti-Finn train 🚂) Yah. Yah. I mean, seriously. Hope. How could Finn POSSIBLY think,💡🤔 with NO ❌ evidence, that psychopath Sheila 👿 is reformed 😇? Wtf?!
Hope: He has reasons. He--
Ridge: REASONS!? REASONS?! 😮 Snarl! 😡 What fucking REASONS?!
Hope: He says she's changed. He's seen her growth. 🌱 He's seen her sprout angel 😇 wings 🪽. He's seen a new and improved Sheila.
Liam: Give me a fucking break! It's pure foolishness 🥴 and personal bias! 😦 Gah! Just because the BABY MANCHILD has a childish need to have a relationship with his birth mommy, he's latched onto a fantasy that this demon 👿 psycho has reformed. (💭 Don't worry, Steffy 💕. I'll be your fall back guy.).
It's NOT REALITY! (💭 I'm really postering now, showing off to Ridge, matching him huff for puff! 😤).
Ridge: Yah! Grrrr. Harumph! 😤😡 What's gotten into this guy? 🤨 Growl! 😦 Sheila is an ANIMAL! Grrr! 😦 Animals don't change! Snort! 😤 Spiders 🕷️, snakes⚕️, reptiles 🐊, monsters 🧟‍♀️👺👿 like Sheila never change!
Hope: I felt the same way. (💭 I even gave up on a relationship with my dad ☹️ when he wouldn't break it off with Sheila.) But after seeing 👀 them together 💕, maybe we should keep an open mind 😐. People said the same thing about Thomas, that he--
Ridge: 🤨 You DID NOT. You DID NOT just FUCKING GO THERE (💭 bitch!) Growl! 😡 Snarl! 😦 Snort 😤! Grrrr. You DID NOT just COMPARE my TALENTED, KIND, LOVING, REFORMED SON (some Redditors say you forgot enabled, entitled, obsessed, dangerous, and consequence free son) to that PSYCHOPATH SHEILA?! OMFG! 🤬
Hope: I'm not saying they're the same. 🫤🙄 (💭 Gah. Eye roll. Patience with the neanderthal. Deep breath.) I'm just saying people can change. So we could just possibly, maybe open the door a teeny, tiny 🤏 bit and entertain the possibility that Finn could possibly be right.
Ridge: You AGREE with (💭 the loser idiot) FINN about that psycho 🫨 Sheila?! What the fucking fuck, Hope?! (💭 Are you crazy and stupid too? Where's Brooke? I can't deal with you, ffs.😠)
Look, Finn has a weird ass connection to Sheila. But WTF, Hope. What's up with YOU? 🤔
Liam: 🤨
Hope: I explained. Sugar was planning to harm 🪓➰🔪🩸 Steffy. Sheila tried to stop her.
Liam: Hearsay. This story of Sheila fighting Sugar came from the least reliable source -- Sheila! (💭 Reddit hates to admit it, but Liam has a point). Sheila told you this story. You, Finn, and Deacon just accept it at face value.
But all we know for sure is that SHEILA didn't attack 🔪 Steffy. Sugar did. That doesn't mean Sheila has changed. It just means there were TWO psychos! 😵‍💫🫨 (Reddit really doesn't want to give Liam credit but kinda gotta suck it up and admit, he's making good points.)
Hope: Deacon and Finn think she HAS changed.
Ridge: Hope. (💭 Whooo boy. I have no patience under normal circumstances. 😑 This is WILDLY FRUSTRATING AF! 😡). Everything Sheila says is a LIE! It's all for show. Gah! 😦 Come ON!
Hope: For--
Ridge and Liam: FOR FINN! FOR FINN! OMFG! 😨
Ridge: She's feeding him the fantasy HE WANTS! Now, she's supposed to be mother of the year, ffs?! Growl! Snarl! 😡 Nah!
Hope: I'm not saying we just accept it. I'm just asking that we keep an open mind, for Finn's sake. (💭 Reddit wonders why Hope doesn't just wrap it up and extricate herself from this whole thing! She should just say ' I gave you the news. Talk to Finn. Byeeee.' Reddit says get out of there, Hope. It's been a looooooooooooooong af day!)
Look, I'm starting to see Finn's side. If indeed Sheila has changed, why shouldn't he want a relationship with her?
Ridge: NOT gonna HAPPEN. 🤨 😡 (Reddit thinks Ridge must have taken a few pointers from Victor Newman only Ridge is way louder.) Finn wants Sheila in their lives. Steffy's not gonna allow it.🫸❌ Absolutely not. ❌ No way. ❌ No how. ❌ Never. Ever. Gonna happen. ❌ Nope. ❌ Nah! ❌ Forget about it! ❌
Liam: Ohhh. Yah! Righ! After what she's endured being MARRIED to this guy who has some bullshit, primal connection to his psycho 🫨 birth mother. Now he wants to invite Sheila into her life? Well, he doesn't GET STEFFY! Steffy will NEVER allow it. She'll draw a line ➖in the sand. The stop 🛑 sign will go up. The hands will push 🫸 back 🫸 hard 🫸.
FINN DOESN'T KNOW STEFFY -- like AT ALL! (💭 Not like I know Steffy and love 😍 Steffy, and will protect Steffy 👩‍❤️‍👨.)
Ridge: 🤨
Hope: 🙄

Finn and Steffy at their home

Steffy: (it all sinks in) It wasn't Sheila I stabbed 🔪. 😣 It was a look-a-like, Sugar. 😖 I stabbed Sugar -- some woman who was tricked into plastic surgery to look like Sheila. What?! 🤯
Finn: Yah, babe. Isn't that a good thing? 🙂 Isn't that GREAT? 😀 Isn't that a relief? 😀 Isn't that a HUGE weight lifted? 😃 Aren't you thrilled 🤩, happy 😁, and bursting with joy 😊? I know I am. We thought you killed my birth mother, but you stabbed a totally different psycho! Pretty cool, huh? 🙄😃
Steffy: 🥺😠😡 (💭 Wow. OMG. Finn thinks I should be relieved? WTF?!)
Finn: Sugar kidnapped ➰⛓️ Sheila. If Deacon and I hadn't gotten there to SAVE her, she might not have survived, honey! This is SUCH AMAZINGLY AWESOME 👍 NEWS!
Steffy: So YOU think I'm supposed to be THANKFUL this monster 👿 is alive?! Are you fucking serious?! 😖😟
Finn: Nah. But yah. Isn't a small 🤏 part of you thankful? 🙄
Steffy: No. 😕
Finn: Relieved? 😀
Steffy: No. ☹️
Finn: Happy for me? 🙂
Steffy: No. 😣
Finn: Honey, babe, sweetheart, listen. We were struggling with the fact that you killed my birth mother, but we don't have to anymore. (💭 I know if I reframe this the right way, Steffy will have an ah ha 💡moment 😀 and feel relief. I just have to find the right words. I have faith 🙏 in us. I'm not even a little bit delusional.🥴 I know Steffy has a good and forgiving heart ❤️. She's just in shock 😳 and horrified 😱 and her mind is blown 🤯. But this will subside. 🙂 I'll just keep talking in a soothing voice. Yah!)
You killed someone who hated Sheila. Sugar was crazy. She wanted to hurt YOU to hurt HER. Get it? (💭 Sugar was the REALLY bad 👹 one. Sheila is a RECOVERING psycho! Big difference! 😀)
Steffy: So I'm supposed to be ooooh all happy and shit that psycho A is dead and psycho B is alive? 🤔 Nah! Finn, I'ma speak slowly so you can understand me when I tell you, NO I'm not happy or relieved or whatever tf you want me to be -- because the DANGER IS BACK! (💭 This man has the THICKEST, HARDEST HEAD! Fucking hell. He's freaking me out so badly that Dawn can't even find any emojis to express the emotional wreckage on my face! Anger, disbelief, confusion, fear, stress, anxiety, frustration -- all the feels!)
Finn: Nah. It's not back! That's the glorious, wonderful, amazing, beautiful, exciting, magnificent 😀😃😄😁 thing I'm just not adequately conveying to you, my love! No fear or danger! Sheila tried to PROTECT YOU. She tried to SAVE YOUR LIFE! She's your best friend ever! She wants to get pedicures together, not shoot us and leave us for dead! She's past that nonsense now. No more danger, honey! ☺️💕
She offered her own life to save you! She tried to fight Sugar. She loves us!
Steffy: Look. 🤨 Sugar's scheme was to blame Sheila. So, Sheila was just selfishly protecting HERSELF from getting blamed. That's all it was! (💭 If I just reframe this the right way, Finn will have an ah ha 💡 moment. He has to! I just have to find the right words to get through his thick skull and penetrate his delusional thinking. He's really worrying me and pissing me off. Wow. Just wow.)
Finn: Nah. She offered her own life! She cares more about us than her own life. SHEILA'S A HERO! Super Sheila🦸‍♀️ to the rescue, only she was chained up ⛓️ and fighting at a disadvantage, but she tried!
Steffy: Hero? HERO? 🤢🤮 You're calling SHEILA fucking psycho CARTER a HERO? Are you on crack? 😮 She tried to KILL🩸us. (💭 He's gone off the deep end into LA LA land 🤪.)
Finn: When Sugar told her--
Steffy: (Angry 😡 and frustrated 😖, Steffy Slams a chair 🪑💥 hard on the floor.) I DON'T GIVE AF ABOUT SUGAR!!! I don't CARE about her!!! 😦😣 She means NOTHING TO ME!!! (💭 STFU Finn! OMFG! Ahhhh! I have NO PATIENCE LEFT for his delusional BULLSHIT! I can't seem to get through to him! Why tf won't he LISTEN??!! 🤬)
WE'RE TALKING ABOUT SHEILA! 😠
S H E I L A !! 😡
We've been over this a ZILLION TIMES how she had terrorized my family for generations! How do you not GET IT?
Finn: I do. I underst--
Steffy: NO YOU DO NOT FUCKING UNDERSTAND!!!! 😡😤 GENERATIONS! GENERATIONS! That vile bitch is a LUNATIC! 😵‍💫🫨😈
(Steffy pleads 😫 with Finn in frustration 😖😣 to comprehend.)
She tried to KILL ME! And my MOTHER! And my GRANDMOTHER! 😩
I lost TIME with my mother! 😩 I lost TIME with YOU! 😫😣
She's tried to POISON people. So, even if she did try some feeble attempt to get that other stupid psychopath friend not to hurt me, SO FUCKING WHAT?!
NO! NO! NO NO NO NO! 😡 She's NO HERO! I NEVER want to hear you say that AGAIN! (💭 La La La La I can't hear you! I won't hear you! NO!)
Finn: 😑😞 (shakes his head. 💭 She's not getting it.)
Steffy: 😡😖 (shakes her head. 💭 He's lost his mind.)
Steffy: Do you hear me? She's vile. She is in no way a HERO! 😠 She left us in an ALLEY to DIE! What are you thinking? 😩
Finn: Yah yah. I knoooow. I know her past sins. She's made some mistakes 😒, some bad judgement calls🙄, she's been kind of a mess 🫤. She hasn't always put her best foot forward. She hasn't always been super thoughtful. Sure, she's wanted a lot of people dead 💀, but that was THEN and this is NOW! She's been working on herself. She's very into self help these days, and yoga and shit. The fact is she tried to save you!
Steffy: Don't CHALLENGE ME on FACTS ABOUT SHEILA! I'll give YOU the fucking FACTS Mr. Man! 😡 You will lose.
Finn: How about the handy dandy fact that she's alive and you didn't kill my birth mother? ☺️ That matters to me! I'm your husband (takes Steffy's hand). You're the most important person 💕 in the world 🌎 to me. But my birth mother was a mystery. I almost lost her. I just want to help her. I don't want to turn my back on her. 😟 (💭 She's kind of a hoot too, and stubborn and strong, kinda like someone else I love! ❤️)
Steffy: (looking miserable 😖) But you have to. I love you. 😢God, I love you! ❤️ (💭 And my heart is breaking 💔 right now.) You are SO GOOD! But Sheila is EVIL 👹. You are naive (💭 delusional) to think she'll change, that she won't devestate our lives.
Sheila is NOT going to be IN OUR LIVES, no where near Kelly or Hayes.
You can't have BOTH. 😟
It's either HER.
Or ME. 😐
Finn: 😕I hear you. Of COURSE it's YOU. It will always be you. ❤️ (Steffy and Finn share an emotional embrace, both with weary 😞, teary 😥, worried 🥺 expressions. They hold on to each other, emotionally spent.)
The end.

January 29, 2384 - the day of the last total eclipse is when the raid began. “The day of the sun's false shadow” as people call it now. We, humans, were an unsuspecting victims in a universe habited by multiple vastly stronger existences. When it happened the world had been thrown into utter chaos and shock. The sun had been completely covered by the moon and this event was supposed to last only a short while however after two hours sunlight had still not shown its face upon the earth's surface. This was the beginning of humanity's greatest tribulation. After days of the sun's light not being shown the planet's temperature began to drop and to compensate for this people began to create massive fires but this did not stop the problem. Photosynthesis in plants began to stop, making it harder for humans to breathe. This made humans build labs and create artificial oxygen, which took care of that problem but humans still began to die from hypothermia, frozen oceans, and forced stoppage of blood flow. After two weeks, the sun finally revealed itself and all hope had been restored in humanity collectively only for half the population to be massacred in an instant. “The watchers” had been slowly waiting with armies to colonize our planet and technology beyond our wild comprehension. Technology we can only dream of had been shown and used right before our very eyes and for the first time in all of human history, we had been united as one in our mutual fear and horror. 2 months later, 90% of humanity has been wiped out and the few who remained were used as slaves to cultivate energy. With the use of a Dyson shell, nearly 80% of the sun's energy and heat had been directed into maintaining their energy. Amongst all this time, humanity had collectively agreed to fight back. This began the creation of the liberation group, “the Plague”. These groups of people were the last hope of humanity and carried an extremely large ambition and dream on their shoulders. While “the watchers” were extremely advanced this doesn't change the fact that they were fallible and this group of people were their scourge. They didn't have the military might nor the advanced brain to even keep up against “the watchers” but through slavery and forced labor, the human body began to develop into something stronger. They began to surpass their limits and break the barriers that the human mind had once placed on themselves. Through the selective farming of “the watchers” a new plant had developed that was essentially a stimulant to the human body and a limit breaker for their physical capabilities. At first, they began by using strong levels of acid to corrode the buildings and structures and then stopping their heartbeat to give the impression of suicide so they could not be caught, however, they did not die due to a new system developed from the human's newfound evolution. Due to the strict regimen that we had to follow, we knew all of the places where they would and wouldn't be, all the blind spots of the planet, all the places where they were in close proximity to a chasm, and all the places where we were at a disadvantage. We used the blindspots as bases and hideouts where we could plan our vengeance. After a year of just observing their behavior, habits, bodily functions, and even their schedules we developed a hypothesis that 24 seconds after 7:39 PM we have approximately 19 minutes and 53 seconds in Greenland where we are not being watched nor located. We used this small window of time to gather the fundamental items we needed to fight back and build the foundation for our organization. We gathered food, plants, water, armor, and weapons. We realized that they were immune to cutting/slicing damage and could only be hurt through blunt attacks. With this knowledge, we developed a specific fighting style and used that small time frame to train others in it. We adapted to the harsh conditions and created clothes using spare pieces from “the watchers” specially made for insulating heat, weighing less, and being less penetrable by outside attacks. After a year every person on the planet was a master at this martial arts and had fully developed a counter to all technology that “the watchers” had. However, we could not initiate immediate war on them so we needed a plan. We came up with the idea to have one of our strongest members report to the watchers about our activity and give away one of our bases. This created the false notion that not only did they have someone working as a double agent on their side but also they knew where we would be so they could catch us off guard. We were all there like they expected and they attacked like planned. We had all moved our weapons, armor, and vital items into a different base but kept some things where they attacked to make them think we had not gotten far but this was a dud. Eventually, we had all “died” and had our bodies left at that place as a sign of victory on their side. However, because of this, their ego had grown and they began to underestimate us. The surveillance had gotten weaker as they assumed their “double agent” would tell them everything as a trade for luxury living. We knew that physical power would not be enough so our smartest man collaborated to develop a virus specifically made for their genetic makeup which took about 5 years to extract small strands of DNA without them realizing. Once the virus had been created the incidence began and eliminated more than 60 percent of “the watchers” because of how they were too distracted trying to develop a cure and the vast amount of them dying, we had gained more time to develop our forces and we began to ingest various harmful substances but in small doses in order to gain resistance to any harmful poisons and acids. After new children start to be born this began the origin of a new human species. One massively stronger, smarter, more durable, and with all the immunities and benefits without the downsides. With the birth of this new generation, all of the human race had experienced a collective euphoria. We had begun to secretly train these kids for years and strengthen them in a way the human race had never been before. Due to the circumstances of their birth, they had also developed a strong ability for adaptation and healing factor which ultimately led to humans finally being able to physically compete with “the watchers”. However, we were still lacking in numbers despite the virus taking a vast majority of “the watchers” away. Some of us grew confident and because we were now physically capable some believed we could win the war while others believed we couldn’t yet. This created division within our ranks but did not necessarily break our ranks but that was all depending on your interpretation. We gathered our smartest men and women to make a plan to initiate war, and for 14 days they were stuck in ruminative thought. 2 years passed and we had finally built up the numbers, technology, and physical capabilities to contend with the watchers. Now on the day of the war, all of our strongest soldiers imitated the attack. But this time they were an unsuspecting victim on a planet habited by a stronger species. During the war we had counters for nearly everything the watchers could dish out but one thing we were not aware of was the fact that the watchers could transform into a smaller but faster, stronger, and more durable form. This form took the shape of humankind. So closely related that it struck fear into the hearts of many. Not only was this extremely off-putting but the revelation that came along with it had altered the perception of humanity as we know it. The war had been put to a halt, and all forced fighting in the war had directed their attention to one watcher and one watcher alone. All forces had been completely immobilized and fighting back was no longer capable. With this, the words that had been spoken out of the watcher were a revelation that humanity had not even considered possible. “We are not your enemies. We are you but from the future. In our original timeline, we have been attacked by a species even higher than us. We had been pushed to the brink of extinction and our last hope was only to go back in time in hopes that if we returned to our past selves we could help evolve even more to contend with the world-ending threats from the future. This siege we had laid on this planet and the forced evolution, progression, and tragedy among humankind also brought extreme progression in human capabilities. All of you are vastly superior to your previous forms because of our arrival. While we acknowledge our methods were not the ideal we had no other option. This was the fastest and most effective method to progress the human species although we could not allow the human race to have this win. It would boost the ego of your race and our all of you in a state of comfort and stagnation. With this being said we resign from our participation in this war and would greatly appreciate it if you allowed us to help humanity rebuild and donate technology.” Speechless as to what humanity has just heard we just stood there in utter shock and disbelief. Not a single soul knew what to say and all of humanity had stood in confusion. One man spoke “how do we know this is true” the watcher proceeded to show pictures and videos of them being massacred while some stood in human form and others did not. They showed is this along with the words, “we initiated this war as a way to put the human race through natural selection and eliminate all the weak human being who would not be able to contribute to our growth and success in any upcoming battle. So with that being said what is your decision?” Our leader, and the smartest woman among us had stated, “We humbly decline this offer as we would prefer to evolve by our capabilities and we have already surpassed you so what can you possibly teach us.” After this being stated the war had been started again and the watchers had been for the first time since the “great cleansing” began utterly defeated and annihilated. With the war being won, humanity being victorious, and newfound abilities being discovered humanity had been thrown into an era of peace and prosperity. All tragedies had been blamed on the watchers and for the first time humanity had an ever lasting peace and a perfect utopia where everyone agreed and benefited from each other. With this, we have been vastly improving and slowly but steadily rebuilding our planet and all of humankind. Our members started family’s and genuinely enjoyed the life they were living once again. Everyone acting coyly and with one another was a beautiful side to behold. Everything was perfect until the same monsters who killed the watchers, showed up to eliminate us due to fear of what we could evolve into this time we had no way to fight back and our ranks were already diminished or severely weakened. How would humanity be able to survive this time???Most people had been massacre and captures to be experimented on. Very few of us had actually managed to get away from them and we had only been able to do this through shadow banishment. It was a skill that we had acquired through the technology of the watchers. Living in the void was not the ideal lifestyle as it was ruthless, dirty, and unsafe but the chances of surviving here were massively higher than surviving on earth. Only a hundred of us remained and the human species were basically extinct. With this small group left we had resorted to instead of trying to repopulate and exact revenge immediately we would take the short route. In the void monsters had no sort of civilization and the only rule amongst these creatures were the strongest prevail. There was no sort of rule, order, or even a sense of respect between these monsters. The weak were prey for the strongest, and the strong were killed by the stronger. We took this as an opportunity to not only increase our strength by training and battling but also amassing an empire. The remind of humanity collectively agree that we would bring order and peace to the void. The best way to go through this was by entering the tournament. The monsters held tournaments to watch the strongest fight and kill each other for pure fun. We joined this colosseum and while at first we easily overwhelmed our opponents we had slowly been facing harder and harder opponents as we rose through the ranks. By the time even a single one of us was defeated we had made a name and gained the attention of multiple monsters within the void. We were not necessarily respected or followed but we were feared and simultaneously an opponent that monsters wished to fight. After this we had developed our own fighting ring in which monster could fight and battle against us and only us. We implied a set of rules in this ring. Rule 1; no killing Rule 2; reservations must be made to fight Rule 3; both parties must consent Rule 4; do not make the fight personal Rule 5; it must be between a human and monster. These rules created a sense of security amongst the monsters and while driven by their desire of battle they also abided by the rules. Eventually after fighting throughout the tournament and gaining more traction with the monsters in it. Eventually even the most high ranked demons had begun to make reservations in for our fights. Our strongest soldiers had been the ones to fight them as nobody else can really compete. The first fight had been with a demon who had the ability of immunity. This ability did not only revolve around internal status effects but also could be applied to his physical body. The fight had been the biggest one the ring had ever experienced and it did not disappoint. Eventually we had won and this through the whole entire void and everyone in it into an uproar. Monsters who never even bothered to fight had shown up to battle. The strongest monster in the void and the only monster with a sense of order, self, and purpose had shown up to fight all humans by himself. He agreed that if we win he would pledge allegiance to us all and work under our rule however if we lose we will be killed. This monster bore an extreme resemblance humans. The structure of his body and the contents of it were all human like however he claimed not to be. This monsters name was angel and he possessed the ability to manipulate and control all matter with the sole exception of any other organic material that resided outside of his own body. Our commander and strongest member amongst us was the person to fight him. His name was Alexander and despite the fact that we didn't have any singular special powers like him however our physical bodies were honed greater than any other species in existence. They were evenly matched in speed and strength and even in our capabilities to rapidly heal from damage. They had been evenly matched in all physical ability and the fight had ultimately come to hand to hand combat and who could last longer. Angel was unmatched in combat and had barely even been hit due to how experienced in martial arts he had been; however throughout the fight Alexander had been naturally adapting to his fighting style and developing counters to everything. Our natural ability to adapt to all attacks and effects placed upon us had given a clear win condition; however time was needed to actually see and fully understand how to possibly adapt to everything. The longer the fight took the higher the chance of Angel losing. Alexander had slowly but steadily been adapting and developing new combat styles to counter everything angle could do and even had grown to use his own severed limbs as projectiles and use his blood as a coat over all other objects to cancel his ability to use his field. Angel's main ability had been to control the air around him to increase speed, power, and even get a sense of what his opponent would be doing before it happened. After finally adapting to this his body had begun to heat itself in an attempt to turn it into vapor and due to blood being organic matter of another life form he would no longer have control of the air and the surrounding area. After this the fight had come down to solely base physical capabilities and for 10 minutes they had been mindlessly brawling and instantaneously healing through the damage taken. After a long period of time their healing began to slow down due to bodily fatigue. Biting, punching, scratching, kicking, anything you can think of, they did it. That fight was a bloodbath unlike anything else and in the end they both passed out on the floor with nothing left besides their bodies soaked and bathed in each other's blood. After they had both been knocked unconscious their bodies had been left there in anticipation for them to awaken. The ring filled beyond capacity as people argued and fought about who would awaken first. In anticipation for this once in a lifetime event the whole void had stopped with all its attention. Angel was the first to awaken and he had been exhausted and utterly stunned as to how he actually had gotten knocked out. He had the opportunity to kill his opponent as he had technically won the battle but out of respect for his opponents strength and capabilities he possessed. After the fight had finished Angel had left and was never to be seen again. After 2 weeks Alexander had awoken in a small shack being guarded by one other human and confused after everything had been explained to him he had went around looking for angel but he was not to be found. After awakening Alexander had been massively stronger than before. Due to the physical state his body was put in and all the damage that he had taken from Angel his body had adapted and become more dense in order to take all the attacks while sustaining the least amount of damage possible. After his awakening this began our political revolution. We had now implemented the ring with rules and gotten multiple monsters to follow by these rules and with them being accurate to filling orders more now we had decided to initiate a leadedictator in a sense. The top 5 strongest creatures in the void had been the leaders and this had consisted of Alexander at 1, 2 other demons at 2 and 3, and humans to fill the final spots. We began to implement laws and rules in order to stop the mass murder and destruction happening and within a small time frame we had created structures similar to the ones of the earth. Houses and gyms in order to train in hopes of becoming stronger and even professional combat sports. After 2 months time had passed we had developed a military with our best members in it and humbly had began to repopulate. All this had been done in hopes of regaining the earth and defeated our oppressors. Fast forward 1 months the and the siege of the home planet had begun. They had not been suspecting us however took the preparations in case we had come. Based and soldiers set up in every corner of the world to fight back when the time came we did come back. With this an all out war for the fate of humanity had began and the extinction of either race lay in the balance between life and death.
After the war had began all forces had been deployed to different areas of the planet. Groups that had worked together best being deployed to one part while our strongest being deployed to another. At first we had been nearly even in everything besides technology. They had everything that we lacked and this gave them the combative edge. However despite lacking in technology we made up for it in numbers. Most fights had consisted of large groups of monsters fighting against one or two of our enemy and this has convoluted till their forces had been somewhat deployed. The one on one fights had been more dragged out and heavily impacted the war. Our strongest soldiers fighting against their strongest soldiers in a one on one fight. Everyone has put their all into this battle and left nothing to spare. Our second and third strongest soldiers had the most impact in this war not because of who they fought but because of what they could do. They didn’t actually have abilities specific to them but instead they were born with a type of energy within their bodies in which they called “synergy”. This synergy could be used to amp all their physical abilities but also be used to crate and use techniques or even use techniques that are specific to the traits of the individuals soul. The strength and physical stats of the individual depended on how much synergy they had at their disposal and while some of them were able to gather strength from other life forms it was not a very common occurrence. Alexander fought someone with the ability to control and manipulate momentum. They used synergy and funneled it through all objects of their choice to increase or decrease of momentum of that. This didn’t do much on a wide scale and was a very basic ability but in a solo battle this made it extremely hard to land attacks and even when they were landed they did little to no damage. The most important one to kill had the ability to manipulate all probability. Meaning the likelihood of us even winning this war was less then .0001 percent with them being alive. Whether it was because of a collection of small losses or one major loss did not make a difference. All odds were stacked against us as long as this person remained on the battlefield. In simple terms the whole war relied on the defeat of that person. Our second in command and smartest soldier, “Cassandra” decided to take this upon herself. She was the only one among us who possessed an innate ability and was viewed as the most special soldier but this came at a cost. She gained a talent no other human possessed but in return she no longer had the natural ability to adapt to all circumstances. Her ability was to take the form and attributes of any and all creature she knew to exist. Mythical or not she could take the shape and ability of these creatures and use it as long as she desired. However she could only use one at a time and had to wait 30 seconds in between shifting. Our third in command, “Vladimir” had took the roll of fighting their head technologist. While his opponent had not specialized in battle he still was one of the most dangerous and this was because of his ability to create machines as small as molecular level that shared his thoughts and emotions. These machines were used to repair his body in case on injury, transport information, invade any opponents body and restrict movement, anything that he deemed possible could be done with the use of those machines. But he chose to mainly use them as sort of technological tools to help him further advance his society. The rest of our battles were not nearly as important and were mostly group battles. Afro the beginning portion of Alexander’s fight he had been losing severely and could barely land any attacks at all. After a few minutes of getting beat down and not being able to fight back the adaptation process began. The first adaptation was only a temporary solution to the problem but his body had been explosively shooting out sharpened pieces of his bones and even using tiny droplets of blood as weapons. However this was only a temporary solution because eventually those bones and blood just started being slowed also. The final adaptation and most effective one happened when his body created a function in which he can store kinetic energy and then release it at any given time. This allowed him to rapidly boost his speed whenever his momentum had been slowed and basically cancel out his opponent power. However this still did not stop how his opponent made himself significantly faster. After this the fight had been more tipped into Alexander’s favor but still not enough to actually win. Throughout the progression of the fight Alexander had been gathering more and make friction between the clothes he had and his feet running against the floor. After gathering as much friction and kinetic energy as possible he let it all explode and release all over his body. This altered the form of his body. His body and skin began to form cracks and let off steam. He began to turn dark red and his eyes became shot with blood. His body was slowly crumbling and deteriorating. He had 5 minutes left to defeat his opponent and if he did not then his body would crumble and he would die. Due to his rapid healing factor he had a chance of living if he was able to end the fight within 5 minutes and give himself some time to rest but this all depended on how much he could get done. The battle had been tilted all the way in Alexander’s favor and had no longer been a battle. It had turned into if his opponent could outlast him in those 5 minutes. Brutally beating his opponent and taking full advantage of the situation Alexander did not relent on his rampage. Stopping his momentum no longer mattered and it seemed like the more he tried the faster Alexander got. Steam had been blowing off him. In the end he had managed to kill his opponent within those 5 minutes and had been at deaths door. Cassandra had began her battle and had been absolutely obliterating her opponent. The ability to shape shift from dragons, unicorns, hydras, centaurs, and any mythical creature you can think of. At first she had taken the abilities of a dragon but throughout the fight she had been developing into stronger and more complex creatures. After a while her opponent had been decreasing the probability of her even landing attacks. This made it extremely hard for her to fight and maintain the advantage. She took the appearance and abilities of the mythical deity sun wukong. Due to sun wukong being a monkey that ascended into a higher power he is one of the only gods that she can transform into. After this she gained the ability to not only make clones out of every hair on her body but also multiply the power of each clone. While she does not possess every power sun wukong has she possesses some of them and the most prominent ones. This fight had been a one sided beatdown and only lasted longer than 2 minutes because the probability of each clone attacking each other had been raised to its maximum percentage. Despite this every 1000 punches that had been thrown at least 1 hit her opponent and this was more than he could handle from millions of clones. Vladimir had no special capabilities; he only possessed an extremely honed body and battle experience. At first they had been near equal but the battle began to take a turn when the tiny bugs began to infest his body and eat him from the inside. Due to his advanced healing factor he had been able to stop any significant damage and fight with mild discomfort but this did not change that if he continued in for a longer period of time then he would inevitably be defeated by these bugs and killed. This made the battle a race against time. Expending everything his body had to offer and leaving not a single drop of energy left. Pushing his body to the absolute peak and physical limit. Even going beyond the known capabilities of his body he began to evolve into a higher form. He did not develop any new type of power or gain a newfound power but he did increase and rapidly evolve his physical capabilities. He began to punch with such speed and strength that he created shockwaves from breaking the sound barrier. With this his punches became far more explosive and with every punch thrown he was exploding giant parts of his opponents body and everything within the perimeter. With no regard to his surroundings the battle had destroyed everything in sight and left them fighting in a bare wasteland. Basically erasing everything within line of his punches he began to annihilate his opponent with speed and strength unmatched. Due to all the tiny machines within his body he regrow limbs and was able to counter attack with near no fatigue or even lag in his action. While pushing his body to its absolute limit his body had given up on him. Rapidly healing from constant damage, pushing muscles to their utmost limit, moving, attacking at his highest speed, and even understanding/ perception of all attacks massively faster then he could ever before. Due to all this his body began to give out and in the midst of battle he fell and was unable to recover. No longer able to fight back and maintain the performance he had, he was defeated. Being eaten from the inside, limbs being torn from his body, and being damaged so much that not even his regeneration could keep up. His head had been ripped off his body and with this humanity had suffered its first major loss. After this all other forces began to gain support from all his other bugs and humanities forces had been rapidly depleting. With loss in sight humanity had lost hope and accepted defeat. Right when humanity had accepted defeat and all hope had been lost the king had shown himself once again. Like an Angel coming to bless all of humanity he had run through and obliterated all enemies of humanity. Destroying everything in sight and bringing all enemies to his feet he had saved humanity and restored hope and just like that he had disappeared into the void once again. There was no explanation as to how or why but in that moment all of humanity knew who we would be forever grateful and indebted to. Not many opponents had been left standing but the few who were, were extremely weakened and overwhelmed by numbers. After this decisive battle humanity had been in a state of joy and excitement out of their new victory. Once all the excitement and happiness from winning had worn off all the sorrow and remorse from the losses had come rushing in. All the lost family members, dead soldiers, limbs lost, and mental trauma had taken a toll on humanity. After we had gotten our planet back we did not spend our time rebuilding and trying to repopulate. We spent months mourning the loss of our loved ones and all our soldiers. We laid in depression and sorrow for our mutual loss and mental trauma. This brought humanity closer as a whole and we bonded over our suffering. Humanity had been one but at what cost. After years of processing humanity had finally been able to rebuild all of our structures, population, and even expand to different planets. After all these trials and tribulations we had finally evolved completely and after ages of loss we had finally entered a golden age of humanity. After all this we had begun to explore the deep parts of our planet and while exploring we discovered something far beyond our comprehension. Humanity had only been a small part of a vastly bigger world and a whole new world had now been exposed to us. We had breached through the ice caps of the north pole and had been greeted with hostility from a race on our planet we did not even know existed. After entering this “new world” humanity had found out the truth of our existence and creation. After finding out the truth of our creation and the prophecy of our faith we had all collectively regretted winning that war. Beyond our world laid horrors and truths we were not yet prepared for. After all this we had once again been thrown into a dark age with no will to fight. In the end this was the beginning of the end for humanity…

Hey everyone. I'm not totally sure what to do with one of my kitties and would love any advice I can get. I want to give as much context as possible so I'll leave a TL;DR at the end.
I adopted Cerberus last October after the loss of my late cat. She was living in my friend's backyard in the neighborhood's TNR colony; one of the queens got missed and whoops, kittens. My friends and the people familiar with the colony are not sure who the father is as all the male cats they've seen in the colony are tagged, but the mom, Pepsi, seemed to have gotten them a stepdad, Thor, who was clearly helping her raise the kittens.
I hesitate to even call Pepsi feral because she is so unbelievably friendly. The first time I met her she ran up to me and begged to be picked up. My friend suspects she was a pet who was dumped, but whatever her origins, she clearly has a lot of trust and liking for people. She also was very tiny and we suspect really young when she gave birth, maybe six months. We are fairly certain only two kittens survived, Cerberus and her sister, Arcadia.
Pepsi brought her kittens to my friend's house regularly to eat, usually with Thor, who is more skittish but will easily allow people to approach if they have food and speak/move softly.
My friend didn't really have any takers for either kitten, but both of us strongly suspected Cerberus would be difficult to adopt out because she was so much more skittish than Arcadia. I chose Cerberus because I like problem animals (lol) and I didn't want her to be TNR forever.
I took her home October 13th when my friend estimated she was four months old. Despite my best and most patient efforts, I have never touched this cat.
I knew socialization would be difficult, but I thought with the combination of her mother's temperament and her age that I'd be able to rehab her. The first two months consisted of a lot and I do mean a lot of lying motionless on my stomach peering under the couch and the bed with treats in my hand. If there had been no response to that, I wouldn't have cared as much, but she was screaming every night at the top of her lungs, and I literally never saw her--she did not feel comfortable to move around the apartment, even when I'd been lying motionless in bed for hours. I had to put her food under the bed or couch for her. After those two months I decided I HAD to get her a kitten companion, landlord be damned, because I just felt really bad about her quality of life.
Fortunately Arcadia (her sister) had not been adopted yet, so I took her home in mid December. Arcadia immediately exhibited more bravery than her sister, although she was still initially trepidatious and did her fair share of under couch hiding. She was much more willing to approach me for treats, and by January I was hand feeding her. I'm very pleased with her current progress--she follows me everywhere, pushes her way into my lap, yells for food, is very fond of my girlfriend, and has allowed two strangers to pick her up and pet her and is apparently a little angel for the vet.
Adopting Arcadia was definitely the right decision for Cerberus--since getting her, Cerberus has started emerging to play with her and will take treats from my hand if I am very, very still. She's begun moving around the apartment while I am out and even stays still without running immediately if I stand up and move around, provided I stay at least four feet away from her. She has much less trust in my girlfriend and I admit I have probably had my girlfriend around too much, as Cerberus makes progress faster when she isn't here, although she's definitely warming up to my girlfriend as well. She does hiss literally any time people move too fast or approach her at all, but she's never swiped even when she's really freaked out, she just tends to run and hide. I feel like I can work with this.
However, I'm getting really nervous about how long she's taking to warm up with regards to vet visits. I've already put off her spay three times because I just couldn't fathom catching her and forcing her into a carrier at this point in her progress, and now it's starting to feel more irresponsible to not have her spayed and vaccinated. Arcadia went into heat literally the week before her spay, and I'm getting very nervous that Cerberus could at any minute as she's nine months old now. Her spay and initial vaccines are scheduled for this Thursday.
I've resigned myself to semi traumatizing her getting her into the carrier and have recruited a friend with copious cat experience and motorcycle gloves. I'm really, really anxious about the impact that this will have in her trust in me and how to recover that trust post spay, especially since I plan on confining her to my bathroom while she recovers and obviously I'll have to be in there at some point. The only other place I could confine her to would be my bedroom, which has the same problem. In addition to this, she'll have to go back to the vet shortly after to get her booster shot, and I feel like that will be even worse. It feels irresponsible to put off her shots any longer but I am just so scared for how far back this might set her, especially after how incredibly long it's taken her to get to this point. Help?
TL;DR: my former feral took an extremely long time to make any progress in trusting me and while she's steadily improving, she is still untouchable and I don't feel like I can put off her spay any longer. I'm scared the fact that I will have to force her into a carrier will irreparably damage our relationship.

Receive a flat 10% off your next purchase if you spend more than $100, and receive one cache free when you pay full amount in advance(Purchase amount min 60$).
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Updated Price List : 3-19-2024**(U)** = Unbundled set
Dota 2 collector's cache I & II 2020

Set	Hero	Price
Claszureme Incursion (Very Rare)	Faceless Void	70$ (sold out)
Steward of the Forbidden Chamber (Rare)	Templar Assassin	30$
Apocalypse Unbound	Ancient Apparition	12$
Fury of the Righteous Storm	Disruptor	6$
Signs of the Allfather	Nature's Prophet	15$
Lineage of the Stormlords	Juggernaut	40$
The King Of Thieves	Keeper of the Light	10$
Wrath of the Fallen	Doom	15$
Horror from the Deep	Tidehunter	25$
Talons of the Endless Storm	Chaos Knight	18$
Blaze of Oblivion	Phoenix	8$
Carousal of the Mystic Masquerade	Rubick	8$
Evolution of the Infinite	Enigma	8$
Clearcut Cavalier	Timbersaw	8$
Blacksail Cannoneer	Sniper	8$
Crown of Calaphas	Shadow demon	18$
Secrets of the Celestial	Skywrath mage	8$
Beast of the Crimson Ring	Bristleback	12$
Ire of the Ancient Gaoler (U)	Arc Warden	30$
Master of the Searing Path (U)	Ember Spirit	30$

Aghanim's 2021 Collector's Cache

Set	Hero	Price
Perception of the First Light	Dawnbreaker	18$
Forgotten Fate	Mars	10$
Perils of the Red Banks	Chen	12$
Stranger in the Wandering Isles (Unbundled)	Drow Ranger	50$
Pyrexae Polymorph Perfected ( Rare )	Ogre Magi	35$

Nemestice Collector's Cache 2021

Set	Hero	Price
Twilight Hex	Dark Willow	15$
Litany of the Damned	Doom	15$
Caerulean Star	Enchantress	8$
Eyriebound Imperator	Skywrath Mage	20$
Anthozoan Assault	Tiny	25$
Defender of the Brumal Crest	Winter Wyvern	15$
Indomitable Legacy ( Rare )	Sven	55$ (SOLD) Buyer

Diretide 2022 Collector's Cache I

Set	Hero	Price
Shadowleaf Insurgent	Hoodwink	$15
Scarlet Subversion	Riki	$15
Whippersnapper	Snapfire	$10
Hounds of Obsession	Chen	$10
Seadog's Stash	Clockwork	$10
Starlorn Adjudicator	Dawnbreaker	$15
Spoils of the Shadowveil	Spectre	$15
Trophies of the Hallowed Hunt	Ursa	$10
Crimson Dawn	Phoenix	$10
Forgotten Station	Terrorblade	$15
Dirge Amplifier	Undying	$15
Champion of the Fire Lotus	Monkey King	$10
Deathstitch Shaman	Witch Doctor	$10
Blue Horizons ( Rare )	Marci	$30
Angel of Vex ( Rare )	Invoker	$35
Dark Behemoth ( Very Rare )	Primal Beast	$50

Diretide 2022 Collector's Cache II

Set	Hero	Price
Transcendent Path	Oracle	$15
Darkfeather Factioneer	Phantom Assassin	$10
Freeboot Fortunes	Ogre Magi	$10

Glykeria, the holy martyr of Christ, was in her prime during the years of Emperor Antoninus (138-161), and when Savinos was governor of Trajanopolis in Thrace. Hailing from Trani, a seaport in the province of Bari on the Adriatic Sea, she was the daughter of a high-ranking Roman official. Upon her father's death, she became poor and departed for Trajanopolis.
Once, as Governor Savinos sacrificed before the idols, the holy Glykeria traced the sign of the honorable Cross upon her forehead. She then went before the governor, proclaiming herself a Christian and handmaiden of Christ. The governor summoned Glykeria to sacrifice to the idols. When she entered the temple of the idols, she prayed unto Christ.
Straightway, the idol of Zeus was destroyed when it broke to pieces. Enraged, the pagan bystanders cast stones at Christ's witness. However, none of the stones struck the holy woman. Since she remained unharmed, the pagans seized Glykeria and hanged her by the hairs of her head and then lacerated her body.
Afterwards, they imprisoned the Saint in a dungeon. Intending to starve her, they did not give her any food or drink for many days. An angel of the Lord brought Glykeria nourishment, and through this no evil befell her. Indeed, when the governor and his company entered her dungeon, they were astonished to find a platter and vessels containing bread, milk and water, though the cell was locked securely and no one entered therein.
The governor then sentenced the holy woman to be burned in a fiery furnace. However, a cool dew fell from on high, extinguishing the fire. Glykeria exited the furnace unscathed. The executioners then flayed the skin of her scalp to her forehead. Afterwards, binding her hands and feet, they cast her upon a layer of rocks in prison.
In her dungeon, an angel of the Lord descended and loosed the Saint's bonds. The angel then healed the injuries to her skull. Now this restoration was witnessed by the jailor, Laodikos. Amazed at this miracle, he, too, confessed Christ. Straightway, he was beheaded and received the crown of martyrdom.
Glykeria was then led before Savinos. The governor ordered her thrown to the wild beasts that they might devour her. Without incurring any life-threatening wounds or bruises, after she received a tiny bite from them, that blessed young woman surrendered her soul into the hands of God. Thus, after her manifold struggles, Glykeria, the namesake of sweetness, now delights in the incorruptible sweetness of Paradise.
Now we shall recount a miracle that suffices to manifest the maiden's boldness before God. Dositheos in his Dodekavivlos records that her holy relics were interred at Heraclea in Thrace. At Heraclea, a copper pot was used to collect divinely-flowing myrrh which gushed from the Saint's tomb. By means of this streaming myrrh, many received miracles, as also attested by Saint Theophylact of Ochrid. The Metropolitan of Heraclea, while in Constantinople, found an impressive gold pot. He bought it with the intention of substituting it for the copper vessel that received that sanctified outflow from the Saint's tomb. However, when the exchange was made, the miracles also ceased.
After shedding tears and making many prayers, the Lord revealed to the Metropolitan of Heraclea that the gold pot was unclean. The vessel was then brought to the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople, Saint John the Faster (+ 595). The Patriarch discovered that the learned chief magician, Paulinus, an idolater, when casting a spell, shed blood into that vessel as a sacrifice unto devils. When this event was recounted to Emperor Maurice (582-602), the Patriarch sought legal remedy against such demonic practices. The Emperor sentenced the magician to be bound to a pillar until he died. Furthermore, the man's sons were beheaded as accomplices in their father's wizadry. O reader, keep in mind the severe punishment received by magicians and sorcerers!
Source

Glykeria, the holy martyr of Christ, was in her prime during the years of Emperor Antoninus (138-161), and when Savinos was governor of Trajanopolis in Thrace. Hailing from Trani, a seaport in the province of Bari on the Adriatic Sea, she was the daughter of a high-ranking Roman official. Upon her father's death, she became poor and departed for Trajanopolis.
Once, as Governor Savinos sacrificed before the idols, the holy Glykeria traced the sign of the honorable Cross upon her forehead. She then went before the governor, proclaiming herself a Christian and handmaiden of Christ. The governor summoned Glykeria to sacrifice to the idols. When she entered the temple of the idols, she prayed unto Christ.
Straightway, the idol of Zeus was destroyed when it broke to pieces. Enraged, the pagan bystanders cast stones at Christ's witness. However, none of the stones struck the holy woman. Since she remained unharmed, the pagans seized Glykeria and hanged her by the hairs of her head and then lacerated her body.
Afterwards, they imprisoned the Saint in a dungeon. Intending to starve her, they did not give her any food or drink for many days. An angel of the Lord brought Glykeria nourishment, and through this no evil befell her. Indeed, when the governor and his company entered her dungeon, they were astonished to find a platter and vessels containing bread, milk and water, though the cell was locked securely and no one entered therein.
The governor then sentenced the holy woman to be burned in a fiery furnace. However, a cool dew fell from on high, extinguishing the fire. Glykeria exited the furnace unscathed. The executioners then flayed the skin of her scalp to her forehead. Afterwards, binding her hands and feet, they cast her upon a layer of rocks in prison.
In her dungeon, an angel of the Lord descended and loosed the Saint's bonds. The angel then healed the injuries to her skull. Now this restoration was witnessed by the jailor, Laodikos. Amazed at this miracle, he, too, confessed Christ. Straightway, he was beheaded and received the crown of martyrdom.
Glykeria was then led before Savinos. The governor ordered her thrown to the wild beasts that they might devour her. Without incurring any life-threatening wounds or bruises, after she received a tiny bite from them, that blessed young woman surrendered her soul into the hands of God. Thus, after her manifold struggles, Glykeria, the namesake of sweetness, now delights in the incorruptible sweetness of Paradise.
Now we shall recount a miracle that suffices to manifest the maiden's boldness before God. Dositheos in his Dodekavivlos records that her holy relics were interred at Heraclea in Thrace. At Heraclea, a copper pot was used to collect divinely-flowing myrrh which gushed from the Saint's tomb. By means of this streaming myrrh, many received miracles, as also attested by Saint Theophylact of Ochrid. The Metropolitan of Heraclea, while in Constantinople, found an impressive gold pot. He bought it with the intention of substituting it for the copper vessel that received that sanctified outflow from the Saint's tomb. However, when the exchange was made, the miracles also ceased.
After shedding tears and making many prayers, the Lord revealed to the Metropolitan of Heraclea that the gold pot was unclean. The vessel was then brought to the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople, Saint John the Faster (+ 595). The Patriarch discovered that the learned chief magician, Paulinus, an idolater, when casting a spell, shed blood into that vessel as a sacrifice unto devils. When this event was recounted to Emperor Maurice (582-602), the Patriarch sought legal remedy against such demonic practices. The Emperor sentenced the magician to be bound to a pillar until he died. Furthermore, the man's sons were beheaded as accomplices in their father's wizadry. O reader, keep in mind the severe punishment received by magicians and sorcerers!
Source

Seriously, don't even attempt to trivialize it. It's not about waking you up at 3:00 am for mundane reasons like running out of milk or needing your Wi-Fi password. This entity, whatever it may be, operates outside our reality's bounds, and its motives are far from benign. I learned this the hard way recently, which is why I'm cautioning you all against making light of it. But before delving into specifics, let me offer some context, as sleep paralysis is a recent phenomenon for me.
One of my earliest memories of sleep disruption traces back to my grade school days. With my mother on an early shift unable to drive me to school for its 8:00 am start, she would drop me off at my aunt's house. Here, she ensured I was fed, dressed, and ready for school. Most mornings, I had just about an hour left to sleep before needing to rise. Often, I'd find myself in a half-asleep state from the moment my mom roused me until she tucked me into my aunt's spare bedroom.
On one of those mornings, as I lay down, teetering between wakefulness and sleep, I experienced a peculiar sensation. It felt as though my body began to rise, hovering about two feet above the bed, before swiftly plummeting back down. Startled awake, I assumed my mother had thrown me back onto the bed, only to find the room empty upon opening my eyes.
I hadn't encountered any other experiences quite like that, but it was during this time that I distinctly recall a notable surge in the frequency of the nightmares I was experiencing. The nightmares were generally the same, some cloaked being hiding in the recesses of my vision, always there, always watching. I felt as though each passing night terror that it got closer and closer to me, but always just out of reach. At times, I found myself trapped in a dark room, enveloped by an overwhelming sense of malevolence that seemed to saturate the air—and a fear entirely foreign to my waking experiences.
Then I experienced sleep paralysis for the first time.
It occurred at my mother's house, marking the initial instance where I experienced the sensation of my body being effectively immobilized while my mind remained active. I recall attempting to move my eyes and then my body, but all efforts were futile. As I struggled to regain autonomy, it sounded as though a gathering had convened in my kitchen, voices carrying in muted tones. None of the which resembled those of my parents; I even detected snickering and laughter at one point. The conversation seemed to be aimed at me, as my name was uttered several times, yet the other words remained indecipherable. The episode concluded with me returning to sleep without any further disturbances.
As the instances of sleep paralysis became more frequent, they culminated in another peculiar experience. Shortly after moving into my first apartment, still in the midst of unpacking and assembling furniture, the second incident occurred. I lay on a mattress on the floor, surrounded by unassembled bedframe pieces, when I awoke to find myself imprisoned within my own body once more. In the darkness, I heard a faint sound—a presence moving softly over each piece of furniture. Panic gripped me as I strained to turn my head towards the noise, but every effort proved futile. With each passing moment, the unseen entity drew closer until it reached the bedside. Helpless, I closed my eyes, bracing myself for whatever awaited.
Meow?
Relief washed over me as I realized it was just my generously proportioned feline friend making his way around the room. I could hear him moving about, stepping on more furniture and emitting a few disgruntled meows, presumably chastising my laziness for not assembling it yet. As I began to drift back to sleep, I was abruptly startled awake by a chilling sound.
Snnn-orrrff
A primal, guttural snarl pierced the silence, its menacing resonance echoing through the room like a thunderous roar. I struggled desperately to move my limbs, silently screaming in my mind, yet only managing a feeble whimper as I sensed the beast drawing near. Despite my efforts, my body only twitched, while in my imagination, I leapt up and fled. As a mischievous chuckle erupted, I felt hot, pungent breath on the back of my neck. I suddenly awoke, screaming, kicking and punching. I jerked my head to the side and was met only with darkness. I jumped up and turned the light on, a quick scan of the room revealed there was nothing there. Exhausted and recognizing my inability to function effectively, I reluctantly resigned myself to lying back down with the light on until morning. I called into work, knowing that in my current state, I wouldn't be of much use to anyone.
Days passed and soon, it was that time of the month again for my regular check-in from mom. I hesitantly answered the call. After a few minutes of conversation, we eventually broached the topic of my sleep paralysis.
"Honey, it's probably all the stress." she reasoned.
My job had me grinding away tirelessly, but despite my efforts, all I got was a tiny bump in pay. To add to the mix, my landlord decided it was the perfect time to raise the rent. It's safe to say, the stress was really getting to me. "I don't know, it's been happening my whole life, Dad ever had any issues with sleep?"
There was a noticeable pause as she contemplated her reply. "He's definitely had his share of nightmares, he'd wake me up a lot of the times, poor thing would be in tears."
"Jeez, I never knew, but Mom I gotta…" I endeavored to conclude the conversation, as my allotted chat time was expiring, however my mother promptly interrupted me.
"Sweetie, why won't you join us at church? It might help?"
I released a sigh. I staunchly opposed the notion of going to church; I'd rather watch a documentary on the history of paperclips. "Thanks, but I'm not feeling that right now."
"Please, just do it for me?" She pleaded.
Eager to bring the call to a close. "I'll think about, but, alright I'm going to go ahead a hop off here."
"Alright, I miss you, call me later okay?"
"I will, love you, bye."
I concluded the call with a sigh of relief, grateful for its conclusion.
For a stretch, life seemed to fall into place: My job noticed the disparity between my increased workload and pay and offered me a new position that significantly improved my financial situation. Thanks to this new position, I crossed paths with my wife, and we swiftly eloped. She was one of the top account managers, earning a substantial income, which enabled us to afford a nice house together. During this period, the night terrors and bouts of sleep paralysis took a hiatus, granting me a reprieve. Yet amidst the tranquility, a gnawing sense of foreboding lingered, as if a tempest loomed on the horizon, urging me to savor the calm while it lasted.
During this period, my wife and I had been eagerly anticipating the arrival of our first child. We were overjoyed as she reached the sixth month of her pregnancy, carrying our long-awaited daughter. However, my suspicions proved tragically correct. I'll never forget the heart-wrenching phone call from my wife, her voice choked with tears, informing me of the terrifying sight of blood. Hastening to the emergency room, we raced against time, but our efforts proved futile. We lost our precious daughter that day. The journey back home was a blur, engulfed in a suffocating sense of loss that seemed to consume us both. It felt as though a part of me had died alongside our daughter, and the profound grief only served to widen the chasm between us as time passed, transforming our once intimate bond into a hollow semblance of what it once was.
Sleep paralysis and nightmares began to resurface, as if some malevolent force was exploiting my already troubled state, and my ability to sleep dwindled. Additionally, minor habits and disparities in the early stages of our marriage, once insignificant, began escalating into cataclysmic arguments. By now, I'm certain even my breathing would agitate my wife. Despite experimenting with various medications, none proved effective. Even vigorous physical exercise failed to exhaust me enough for uninterrupted sleep. The situation escalated to the point where my wife banished me from the bedroom due to my incessant tossing and turning, disrupting her rest. Consequently, I found myself relegated to the couch. Resorting to alcohol became a regular occurrence, partly to numb the discomfort of the couch but also as a means of coping with my grief.
We barely conversed, even though she mentioned marriage counseling, I rebuffed the idea, convinced it wouldn't benefit us. Frequently, I'd discover her in tears, cradling the sonogram of our daughter, yet I would quietly withdraw, allowing her solitary moments of sorrow. She had her unique methods of grieving, just as I had mine.
"I can't keep doing this, we're drowning in debt, and you're just pushing us further into it with every bottle." She pointed to the glass in my hand.
"Oh, come on! I work hard for us, I deserve to unwind a bit!" In a moment of animated expression, I inadvertently spilled some of my beverage onto the floor.
"Unwind? You call draining our savings and neglecting our future 'unwinding'!?"
"Look, just let me sleep in my own bed tonight."
She crossed her arms, and for a moment, silence enveloped us before she finally spoke.
"I just—I feel like I'm living with a stranger." Her eyes begin to shimmer with emotion.
"I'm here, aren't I? What more do you want from me?!" My voice rising in volume.
She attempted to delicately take my drink away, her touch then shifting to gently grasp my hand. "I want us to be a team again, not just two people sharing a bed."
But the moment I felt her touch, I instinctively shoved her hands away from me. "We haven't been a 'team' since we lost—" My voice quivered, then exploded into rage. "You pushed me out! You did this! You don't talk to me about anything anymore! Just get the hell out!" I pointed to the door.
I stood in the open doorway, watching her car pull out of the driveway. With a final sip, I closed the door behind me. Met with silence, I sensed the weight of tension hanging heavy in the air. Deciding one more bourbon was in order, I made my way to the kitchen, intent on pouring myself one last drink. In a bid to ensure a restful night, I opted to accompany my indulgence in alcohol with a hefty dosage of sleeping pills. A reckless choice, I'm aware, but perhaps death was in fact the ultimate form of slumber. I settled onto the couch, flicking through channels until my libation was drained. Feeling sufficiently relaxed, I decided it was time for bed. Ascending the stairs, I stumbled and collapsed onto the master bedroom's mattress. Sleep enveloped me swiftly that night, yet trouble was never far behind.
I recall waking during the night and noticing that the hallway light remained illuminated. It struck me as odd since I distinctly remember switching it off before retiring to bed. However, given my inebriated state from the copious amounts of alcohol I had consumed, I surmised that I must have simply forgotten. I'd just get up and switch it off, but a wave of unease washed over me. Despite my intentions, I found myself paralyzed, trapped within my own body once again. I found myself transfixed on the door, illuminated by the soft glow seeping in from the hallway. In that moment, I discerned a shadowy figure lurking behind the door.
I hoped it was my wife, but a gut feeling told me otherwise; this time felt different, suffocated by an eerie malevolence. The doorknob rattled violently, as if something were struggling to open it. Yet, amidst the noise I caught a sinister snicker. The relentless jiggling of the doorknob reached a fever pitch, threatening to wrench it free from its socket at any instant. Then, as abruptly as it began, the tumult ceased, leaving an ominous silence hanging in the air. The door then creaked open with a slow, foreboding motion.
A sinister, shapeless presence loomed in the doorway, defying gravity as it hovered above the ground, its shadowy form exaggerated by the eerie glow seeping in from the hallway. I whimpered, struggling to stir my limbs in a futile attempt to awaken my body, but they responded only with slight twitches. My gaze remained fixed on the form before me, immobilized by fear. Suddenly, a sinuous appendage extended from the specter's face, resembling a long, black tentacle. It elongated and snaked toward me, prompting me to instinctively shut my eyes. Sensing its proximity, I remained frozen, an icy chill grazed my forehead, jolting me awake in an instant. Sleep eluded me for the rest of the night, so I opted for an early morning, brewing a pot of coffee to chase away the lingering unease.
For the following weeks, my routine remained monotonous: work, microwave dinner, then numbness induced by sleeping pills and bourbon until I could no longer keep my eyes open. I received a text from my mother-in-law stating that my wife wanted to reconcile, but insisted on therapy and my attendance at AA meetings. I refused, firmly convinced that all I desired was to reclaim my bed, and that her reaction was excessive. I contended that the alcohol provided comfort, a gesture I hadn't received from her in quite some time. My mother-in-law and wife were both displeased with my response; it became apparent that divorce was now the inevitable solution.
At this juncture, I experienced sleep paralysis on a daily basis, even in the absence of the entity. Each night, I would awaken multiple times, unable to move, only freeing myself to find dread awaiting the next episode upon returning to sleep. There was one rare night when I slept soundly, only to be abruptly awakened by a late-night call from an old friend. We had a bond stretching back to our middle school days, and were inseparable back then. However, this call wasn't one of nostalgia; it was about money. He needed a bailout for his mortgage, promising a swift repayment.
I moved to the edge of my bed, frustration mounting as I started to rub my forehead. "I can't, I just can't right now, I need to get back to sleep good—"
He interrupted me. "Please, I don't want to lose the house."
I found myself raising my voice in frustration as irritation crept in. It appeared he was wholly incapable of learning from his mistakes. "Look, it isn't my responsibility to bail you out every time you're in trouble!"
"I know, I know, please, at least do it for Eli, Chelsea left me all alone and it's been hard man." His voice starting to crack.
My voice raising to a near scream; "He isn't my responsibility either! You should have been careful! I told you she wasn't good for you and you didn't listen! Sort your own shit out from now on!"
I ended the call and slammed the phone onto my nightstand. So much for a good night's rest, thanks a lot, friend.
As my life spiraled further into chaos, I realized I needed to explore solutions beyond relying on alcohol and sleeping pills to combat sleep paralysis. Perhaps a spiritual approach was necessary. While I knew my mother would be pleased with this consideration, I'm certain what I had in mind would be vehemently discouraged. My mother firmly believed in the existence of demons, warning against interacting with them outside of 'God's protection'. Perhaps she was right, but I grew desperate for a solution. At this stage, I was willing to do anything for peace of mind, regardless of the consequences. So, I concocted a masterful plan:
I'd simply ask it what it would take to make it stop.
Each morning was fraught with dread, pondering whether the entity would manifest itself. I ensured to kickstart my day with a potent drink, maintaining a steady buzz throughout, perhaps to stave off any wavering doubts about my decision. My patience bore fruit one fateful night as I found myself immobilized once more.
This marked the initial instance when the entity directly addressed me, and its words seared into my memory with chilling permanence. It uttered abhorrent, repulsive, unfathomable insults about me, branding me a failure, devoid of worth, as insignificant as a microbe. It dissected my existence, critiquing my choices, appearance, and demeanor with a cruelty I had never encountered. It seemed to possess an uncanny ability to strike at the core of my being, as if it wielded a weapon honed to annihilate my spirit. And then, its merciless laughter echoed relentlessly.
In that moment, I recognized it as my opportunity to retort. However, the barrage of insults stoked a fire within me, igniting a fury that overpowered my intentions. What did this entity presume to know about me? It was entirely mistaken, and that infuriated me. Against my better judgment, fueled by indignation, I deviated from my plan and impulsively blurted out: "What's so damn funny?!"
As the words echoed in my mind, the laughter abruptly ceased, leaving behind an eerie silence. Relief flooded through me as I dared to hope that I had put an end to the ordeal. Yet, my premature celebration was cut short when an indescribable dread enveloped me. A black ichor oozed onto the floor beside my bed, signaling the beginning of a hellish spectacle. From the viscous sludge, a dark figure emerged, coated in sticky tar, yet defying gravity as it ascended, hovering above the ground.
Above me, it loomed, its weighty presence palpable as thick sludge cascaded onto the bed, it halted directly over me. Its head inclined, scrutinizing me with unseen gaze. Tears welled in my eyes, hot and unrestrained, as I braced for the inevitable embrace of death. The figure gradually descended, its feet pressing into my chest with an icy chill coursing through me. As its waist aligned with my sternum, a frigid sensation enveloped me. With a swift motion, it plunged its hand into my chest, seizing my heart, and darkness consumed my senses.
I felt a terrifying pull downward, as if gravity itself had gone haywire. My stomach churned with a sickening weightlessness, reminiscent of a plummeting elevator. As my descent abruptly halted, the sound of wind rushing in my ears gave way to a sudden explosion—a resounding burst, resembling the opening of a parachute. That's when I sensed something coiling around my waist, though invisible to my eyes. Desperate to break free, I reached out, only to recoil in horror as my fingers brushed against scaly, rough skin.
Simultaneously, the air filled with the echoing beat of what seemed like enormous wings, while I experienced the unsettling sensation of being lifted and dropped. Though I had a suspicion about what gripped me, disbelief held me back from fully acknowledging it. So, resigned, I surrendered to my captor's will, allowing them to transport me to an unknown destination. As the darkness yielded, a faint glow emerged beneath us—a jagged line emanating an eerie orange-red light. The creature descended, revealing a sight that churned my stomach: bubbling lava. Its faint glow barely illuminated what seemed to be a cavern.
As I descended further into the cavern's depths, the beast veered close enough for me to sense the searing warmth of the lava beneath my feet. Gradually, our descent stabilized, and my gaze shifted forward, revealing a massive door-like structure. Its design echoed the grandeur of ancient Gothic architecture, adorned with pointed arches and intricate buttresses. The edifice appeared crafted from a peculiar variety of marble, possessing a beauty tinged with an unsettling aura. Its construction defied convention, evoking a sense of unease; never before had anything been wrought in such a manner.
As the creature descended once more, carrying me firmly, we passed through the doorway, revealing the true scale of the chamber. Beyond the threshold, a vast expanse unfolded, illuminated by a solitary spherical light source, casting an unsettlingly dim glow upon a colossal, otherworldly mechanism. It resembled a colossal pillar, stretching upward into the darkness of the cavern, its details obscured by the dim light. Within its intricate workings, gears, wheels, and chains rotated at a languid pace. Amidst this mechanical labyrinth, my attention was drawn to a swirling mass of gray at the base of the mechanism, slowly undulating. The beast appeared to be steering us directly toward it.
As we drew nearer, we sailed past what appeared to be a platform, upon which perched a colossal beast. Its form resembled that of a massive reptilian creature, akin to what one might envision as a dinosaur. Yet, it stood upright on two legs, its powerful limbs chained firmly to the platform. With each short, sharp inhalation, it unleashed a deafening roar that reverberated through every fiber of my being. I couldn't help but notice the protrusion of its jugular vein, roughly the size of my upper thigh, expanding with each thunderous cry. As we approached the swirling mass of gray, a sudden wave of horror washed over me as I comprehended its true nature.
A sea of people.
I observed that they were all bound together by chains, encircling their arms, legs, and necks. These chains converged at the towering pillar, linking each individual to the mechanism. The mass of people moved in a circular motion, driving the turning of the cogs. Their pallid complexion suggested an absence of life, as if all vitality had been drained from them. Their agonized screams pierced the air, mouths devoid of tongues. I witnessed an individual collapse to their knees, only to be forcefully yanked upright by some unseen power, rest was an elusive notion in this place. To my horror, amidst the throng of young adults and the elderly, I saw children swept along by the relentless current of the crowd.
As the creature positioned me amidst the multitude, I pleaded desperately, but it was futile; the chains had already ensnared me. With each movement of the mass of people, I felt the tug on my own chain, pressed in on all sides without an inch of space to spare. The towering figures around me obscured any view beyond their heads, leaving me engulfed in a sea of bodies.
My voice pierced the chaotic symphony of screams, rising in a desperate plea for escape.
"Please! I don't belong here! I just wanted to sleep, this is a mistake!"
As I cried out, the orb of light began to shift, seemingly in response to my desperate appeals. As it drew closer and closer, a sense of dread gripped me. Hovering ominously above, it revealed itself as a grotesque monstrosity, casting a sickly glow that chilled me to the bone. I fought the overwhelming urge to collapse, my knees weakening with each passing moment. What loomed overhead defied any attempt at human description; it resembled a cluster of intertwining tubes, swirling and spiraling in a mesmerizing dance that transcended the bounds of reality. Bathed in a sickly blue light that pulsed like molten lava beneath its tendrils.
The light wrought a profound transformation within me, granting a clarity of self-awareness unlike anything I had ever known. In its piercing illumination, I was confronted with the raw truth of my being, stripped of illusion or denial. It was a sobering revelation, an awakening to the most authentic understanding of myself I had ever experienced.
I belonged here.
I had systematically driven away my friends, neglecting their presence and refusing to open up to them. Even my own mother's attempts at connection felt burdensome, our conversations reduced to mere obligations. But perhaps the greatest tragedy lay in the chasm that had formed between my wife and me—a divide entirely of my own making. I was the architect of my own downfall, responsible for the ruin of my life, with no one else to blame but myself. Every word the entity had uttered about me held a painful truth.
From this vantage point, my life appeared almost sweet in retrospect, bathed in the stark light of self-awareness. Yet, any semblance of hope quickly dissolved, for in this desolate realm, hope found no foothold, no sanctuary to thrive.
With my head bowed low, I trudged forward, the weight of my chain pulling me inexorably onward. In a moment of unprecedented vulnerability, I found myself offering a prayer. Despite my awareness that it would likely go unanswered, I embraced the grim reality of my fate, accepting it with a heavy heart.
God, have mercy on me…
Suddenly the sound of chains breaking shattered the air as I was yanked upward with astonishing velocity. In a sudden blur, the scene below shrank rapidly beneath me. The rush of wind buffeted me, and I sensed another presence, an arm wrapped around my waist. Clutching onto it tightly, I braced myself as the cavern's light faded into absolute darkness, squeezing my eyes shut against the unknown.
With a jolt, my rapid ascent came to an abrupt halt, my back colliding with something soft. Gradually, I realized I was back in the familiarity of my own bed. At the foot of the bed stood a figure, its features obscured by a radiant glow emanating from its form, resembling molten glass. The brilliance bathed the entire room in an ethereal light. For a fleeting moment, we locked gazes, suspended in a silent exchange. Then, as swiftly as it had appeared, the figure began to ascend, leaving my room cloaked once more in shadows.
I sat in silence for a while, grappling with the enormity of my experience. To dismiss it as a mere nightmare or hallucination would be a gross understatement; whatever transpired felt hauntingly more vivid and tangible than my current reality. It would take me months of introspection and contemplation to begin to make sense of it all, to reconcile the surreal with the mundane, and to find a semblance of peace within myself.
Although the experience didn't trigger an immediate transformation, its impact lingered, nudging me towards a path of change. Despite my ongoing struggle with alcohol addiction, I made a conscious decision to seek help. I began prioritizing regular hangouts with my best friend and even accompanied my mom to a few church visits. While I remained uncertain about my own connection to religion, witnessing her joy brought a sense of fulfillment that warmed my heart. In making her happy, I found a newfound source of happiness within myself.
As time passed, a sense of progress gradually infused my life. Achieving a year of sobriety marked a significant milestone on my journey, celebrated amidst the supportive community of AA. Even my wife took notice of my efforts towards self-improvement, leading us to embark on marriage counseling together. Before long, her return to our home signaled a hopeful new chapter in our relationship.
Not a trace of sleep paralysis had haunted me since that fateful night when I was guided from the depths of despair. I'm not entirely sure if it was an angel, or God, but whatever it was, it spared me, and for that, I'm grateful. And now, the most joyous news of all: my wife and I are expecting our first child next week. The doctors assure us of her perfect health, filling us with anticipation and gratitude. As for her name, I already have the perfect one in mind:
Grace

"I played major league baseball for parts of 10 years, and I played in the magnificent city of New York, and as a child in St. Croix that was beyond dreams. Yes, I am a happy man." -- Horace Clarke
The worst stretch of Yankee baseball since the Highlander days, the mid 60s to the mid 70s, is remembered by those who lived through it as the Horace Clarke Era. Unfairly or not, the bespectacled switch-hitting middle infielder from the U.S. Virgin Islands came to symbolize all that was wrong with the Yankees in those sad years.
Horace Meredith Clarke grew up on the island of St. Croix in the U.S. Virgin Islands. He was just the fifth player from the U.S. Virgin Islands to play in the majors, and the first Yankee. His father had grown up playing cricket, and because there were no youth baseball leagues on the island, young Horace played softball. He said he didn't see his first baseball game until around age 13, when he saw some U.S. Navy sailors playing.

“We were poor kids in St. Croix. We played on a field which was right on the ocean and had no fences. We couldn’t afford baseballs. So the coach made the lefthanded batters hit righthanded and the righthanded batters hit lefthanded. This was so they couldn’t hit the ball so far. It saved us from losing the baseballs in the ocean.”

Clarke was spotted by a Yankee scout in the Caribbean and assigned to the lowest run of the Yankee farm system -- the Kearney Yankees in Class D ball. Imagine being an 18-year-old kid from St. Croix in the Caribbean, and arriving in Kearney, Nebraska in the spring of 1958. The culture shock must have been overwhelming. Maybe not surprisingly, Clarke hit a disappointing .225/.322/.283 in 187 at-bats. He said the biggest adjustment wasn't the cold weather, but night games played under the lights, something he'd never done before.
The following year Horace was in the Florida State League, and he thrived in the warmer weather, hitting .293/.375/.366 in 571 at-bats. He also stole 34 bases that year. The year after that, he was back up north, playing for Fargo in the Northern League, and hit .307/.389/.369 in 537 at-bats. The following year was Amarillo in the Texas League, where he hit .300/.364/.429.
Then the next three years in the International League, where he hit .281/.345/.352 in 1,494 at-bats while playing shortstop and second base.
But despite Clarke's promise, he was blocked by Bobby Richardson. By the time Clarke had reached Triple-A at age 24 in 1963, the 27-year-old Richardson had already been a four-time All-Star, a two-time Gold Glove winner, and had won three World Series rings... plus the MVP for the 1960 World Series, the only time in baseball history a player for the losing team won the award!
But the Yankees knew Richardson was planning on retiring, so they kept Clarke waiting in the wings. He opened the year with the Toledo Mud Hens, then the Yankees' Triple-A team, and then after a month he finally got the call to the show.
Fifty-nine years ago today, on May 13, 1965, Clarke was sent up to the plate in the 7th inning as a pinch hitter to make his major league debut in a game the Yankees were losing, 4-1, to the Boston Red Sox in Fenway Park.
Clarke, facing Dave Morehead, beat out an infield single. It was a promising beginning. But, as if scripted to be symbolic of his career, Clarke's success was short-lived as the next batter bounced into a fielder's choice. Forced out at second base, Clarke watched the rest of the game from the dugout. The next day he'd get the start and go 0-for-4.
Hitting .250/.298/.269 at the end of June as a utility infielder, Clarke was sent back down to Toledo for two months to get more regular playing time. It helped. When he returned on September 3 -- coincidentally, also against the Red Sox -- he went 3-for-5 with an RBI. Overall that month, Clarke hit .273/.298/.327, and for the season, .262/.298/.299 in 115 plate appearances. But the Yankees, the reigning A.L. champions for the past five seasons, finished a shocking 77-85, all the way in sixth place.
That off-season, Phil Linz -- the harmonica playing utility infielder -- was traded to the Phillies, opening up a roster spot for Clarke. Richardson, though only 31, had told the Yankees he would retire at the end of the 1966 season, and the Yankees wanted him to mentor Clarke as his successor.
Clarke started just seven games over the first half, but a series of injuries forced him into regular service. Over the second half, he played almost every day, hitting .276/.334/.404 in 300 plate appearances. He was mostly used at shortstop, where his defense wasn't great, but in 16 games at second base he looked good enough that the Yankees were confident he could be a regular there. Yankee fans were no doubt a little sad when Richardson officially announced to the press on August 31 that it was his last season, but at least we knew who would be playing second base the following year.
Indeed, second base was the least of the Yankees' problems. New York finished dead last at 70-89 in 1966, the team's worst performance since 1925, as injuries fell Mickey Mantle, Roger Maris, Elston Howard, and Whitey Ford.
Entering 1967 as the starting second baseman, Clarke hit a solid .272/.321/.316 (94 OPS+) in 633 plate appearances while leading the league in fielding percentage, assists, and range factor as a second baseman. He also stole 21 bases in 25 tries, a second-best .840 SB%. His 3.7 bWAR that year was better than any season Richardson ever had -- his career high was 3.2 bWAR in 1962.
The following year, the Yankees finished 83-79 -- above .500 for the first time in four seasons -- but a whopping 34.5 games out. Clarke had one of the worst years of his career, hitting .230/.258/.254 (60 OPS+) as he played through injuries all year.
He rebounded in 1969 to .285/.339/.467 (101 OPS+), with 33 stolen bases. It was, statistically, the best season of his career (3.9 bWAR). But once again the Yankees were terrible -- 28.5 games out.
In 1970, Clarke again disappointed, hitting .251/.286/.309 (68 OPS+). The Yankees won 93 games that year, but it amounted to naught as the Orioles ran away with the pennant, going 108-54 to win it by 15 games. In fact, it was pretty much over by July, with the Yankees 7 games out at the All-Star break.
It was around this time that Yankee fans began focusing their frustration on Clarke. One New York sportswriter routinely referred to him as "Horrible Horace". Miscast as a leadoff man -- he had a career .308 OBP -- and criticized for "bailing out" on double plays, manager Ralph Houk years later offered a tepid defense of his second baseman:

“I know I got a lot of criticism for playing Horace Clarke as much as I did, but he was a lot better ballplayer than anyone gave him credit for. He did a lot of things good but nothing great, and that was his problem. Besides, I didn’t have anyone else.”

The lack of a replacement was certainly an issue. In 1971, there was talk in The Sporting News about a prospect named Fred Frazier being the heir apparent to Clarke at second base. That year, Frazier hit a disappointing .261/.316/.313 in Triple-A; the next year, .216/.302/.281. The year after that, he was in the Orioles organization. He never made it out of the minors.
In fact, Clarke was the only constant in the Yankee infield in the late 1960s and early 1970s. The Yankees during the, ahem, Horace Clarke Era had holes everywhere, with a revolving door at first base, third base, and shortstop. For five years, from 1967 to 1971, Clarke was the Opening Day starter at second base; during that same stretch, there were five different third basemen, five different third basemen, and three different shortstops. Between 1967 and 1973, he started 1,017 games at second base, or 90% of all Yankee games.
But that, explained Yankees PR man Marty Appel, was kind of the problem. "Fans especially didn’t like the second baseman, the beleaguered Horace Clarke, whose major flaw seemed to be longevity. It wasn’t his fault that no one better came along, and he was a better player than the fans gave him credit for. But because he was out there, year after year, he came to stand for this disappointing run by the club."

"I always did my best. I always played as hard as I could. I never was concerned about how the fans reacted to me." -- Horace Clarke

The following year Clarke hit .250/.321/.318 in 696 plate appearances, but the Yankees again were out of it, finishing 82-80 in 1971.
Yankee fans had been miserable since 1965, but frustration with the team in general -- and Clarke in particular -- reached a boiling point in 1972. It had been seven years since the Yankees had been in the post-season, and 1972 was the first year the Yankees had the playoffs within our grasp since winning the pennant in 1964. (The "closest and latest" the Yankees had been since the 1965 season was 9 games out of 1st place on September 8, 1970.)
On September 12, 1972, the Yankees were a half-game out of 1st place at 74-64, with 17 games left to go in the season. The Red Sox were in 1st at 73-62, the Orioles tied with New York at 74-64, and the Tigers a half-game behind at 73-64. Over the rest of the season, the Yankees went a heartbreaking 5-12, while the Tigers won 13 out of 19 to win the A.L. East.
There was plenty of blame to go around for that collapse, but Yankee fans were particularly irate at Clarke, who hit .225/.267/.296 during those final 17 games.
To his credit, Clarke never complained about the boos from fans or the criticism in the press. As quoted by Dick Young in the New York Daily News in 1972:

"Sure, I would feel bad when I saw in the papers that, 'the Yankees can never win the pennant with that guy at second base.' But why get mad. I figure that's his opinion, and he's entitled to it. I must have been able to do something. Don't tell me a ballplayer can fool a manager for seven years."

Years later, Thurman Munson said his adversarial relationship with the media was based on how Horace Clarke was treated.
In 1973, the 34-year-old Clarke hit .263/.317/.308 (80 OPS+), his defense was no longer among the league leaders, and the Yankees were once again double-digit games behind by Labor Day.
It was finally time to move on. That off season, the Yankees acquired 23-year-old utility infielder Jim Mason from the Texas Rangers and installed him as the starting shortstop for the upcoming 1974 season; Gene Michael, the Yankees' on-again, off-again shortstop since 1968, was moved to second base; and Clarke to the bench. It wasn't exactly an earth-shattering move -- Mason was coming off a season in which he hit .206/.273/.290, and Michael .225/.270/.278. If anything, the two represented a substantial downgrade from Clarke's numbers. (By bWAR the previous season, Clarke was still the best option of the three, 0.6 compared to Mason's -0.7 and Michael's -0.9.)
After hitting .234/.294/.255 in 53 plate appearances as a pinch hitter and spot starter, on May 31, 1974, the Yankees finally ended the Horace Clarke Era by selling his contract to the San Diego Padres along with minor league pitcher Lowell Palmer for $25,000. At the time of the deal, Clarke was still the Yankees' best option at second base as Mason was hitting .214/.287/.307 and Michael a putrid .134/.224/.179!
Six weeks later, the Yankees tried to address their second base problem again by acquiring former All-Star Sandy Alomar from the Angels. Alomar, who fathered major leaguers Sandy Jr. and Roberto, played for the Yankees for the next two and a half seasons, hitting .248/.287/.302... again, worse than Horace's career average of .256/.308/.313.
And yet getting rid of Horace Clarke immediately turned around the Yankees' fortunes. With Horace, the Yankees were 23-27, the worst record in the American League; without him, a second-best 66-46. New York finished 89-73, just two games behind the Baltimore Orioles.
The Yankees finally found a solution to the second base problem on December 11, 1975, trading previously forgotten Yankee Doc Medich to the Pirates for Dock Ellis, Ken Brett, and a 20-year-old prospect named Willie Randolph.
Meanwhile, Clarke went to San Diego and hit .189/.255/.200 in 99 plate appearances. He was released at the end of the season and retired. He was a frequent attendee at Yankee Old Timers' Games, and promoted baseball in the U.S. Virgin Islands. He died at age 81 on August 5, 2020, from complications due to Alzheimer's disease.
The Clarke Side

• Horace's nickname was "Hoss". Yankee play-by-play man Bill White loved to draw out the "s" sound.
  
• Clarke had a reputation of being timid on double plays -- the team's pitchers thought he was apt to hold onto the ball and hop aside rather than try to get off a throw if it meant getting barreled over by the runner. (And in those days, runners came in hard -- just ask Willie Randolph!) Yankee pitchers complained to the press about it, and fans started watching for such plays. Any time the 175-pound Clarke didn't complete a double play, the boo birds came out. To be fair, despite his reputation as being afraid of contact, Clarke led the league in double plays turned as a second baseman in 1969 and again in 1971, and finished in the top five every year he was a regular.
  
• Clarke was the last Yankee to live within walking distance of Yankee Stadium, at the Grand Concourse Hotel. His commute to work was a three-block walk... which could be a problem sometimes. Sportswriter Dick Young reported Clarke had an awkward moment when a fan, "this kid, maybe 11 or 12," walked up and asked: "Hey Hoss, how come you can't make the double play?" Clarke replied: "Well, we can't all be stars. I guess I'm just a lousy ballplayer."
  
• Clarke had an unusual batting stance, a throwback to the Deadball Era. He stood with his legs far apart and he choked up high on the bat. Not surprisingly, he had just 27 home runs in 5,243 career plate appearances... but apparently all of them were of the over-the-fence variety.
  
• The first of those 27 home runs was a grand slam! It was off Floyd Weaver of the Cleveland Indians on September 21, 1965. The two-out grand slam in the 4th inning helped power the Yankees to a 9-4 win.
  
• And Clarke's second career home run? Another grand slam! It came on July 16, 1966. Clarke came up with the bases loaded and one out in the top of the 10th of a 5-5 game. Clarke crushed Jack Aker's offering to deep right to clear the bases and give the Yankees a 9-5 lead; Pedro Ramos pitched a perfect 9th to preserve the victory. Whitey Ford, who had entered the game in the 9th inning in relief, got the win. Clarke's first and second home runs were the only grand slams of his career!
  
• Aker was later Clarke's teammate with the Yankees from 1969 to 1972, and the sinkerballing reliever was one of the pitchers who criticized Horace about bailing out on double plays.
  
• Long before John Olerud made it cool, Horace sometimes wore a batting helmet while playing the field. He never explained why; some speculated it was because he'd once been hit in the head by a thrown ball.
  
• Clarke said he grew up listening to Yankee games on the radio, and Phil Rizzuto -- a similarly undersized infielder -- was his favorite player. Horace was 11 years old when the Scooter won the A.L. MVP in 1950.
  
• Mickey Mantle, his knees shot, moved to first base for the final two years of his career. Clarke, the regular second baseman both of those seasons, said that Mantle told him to get every ball he could. Horace led the league in range factor as a second baseman both of those seasons.
  
• The Sporting News reported on March 14, 1970, that Clarke had a "novel twist" during salary negotiations for the upcoming 1970 season. He told the Yankees he'd take less money in salary if they helped him secure a $1 million loan for a construction project in the Virgin Islands. Sportswriter Dick Young speculated: "It's a very simple gimmick. First you get the Yankees to lend you $1 million for an investment. You bank it at seven percent. That brings in $70,000 a year. Then you negotiate your contract with the independent feeling that you don't have to play baseball for a living." Clarke and the Yankees eventually agreed on a more conventional contract at $32,000 -- and no loan.
  
• Check out Horace Clarke's leadoff single on Opening Day in 1970, called by Phil Rizzuto! #23 playing first base for the Yankees is not Don Mattingly, but previously forgotten Yankee John Ellis.
  
• Clarke set the major league career record -- since tied by Joe Mauer -- of most no-hitters broken up in the 9th inning. Both players did it three times in their career... but Clarke did it three times in the same season! He had 9th inning singles to break up no-no's by Kansas City's Jim Rooker on June 4, 1970, Boston's Sonny Siebert on June 19, 1970, and Detroit's Joe Niekro on July 2, 1970. No other hitter has broken up more than two no-hitters in the 9th inning in his career, according to the book Baseball's No-Hit Wonders by Dirk Lammers, but Clarke amazingly did it three times in 24 games spread over 28 days. Mauer's 9th inning heartbreakers came over a six-year stretch.
  
• Clarke went 5-for-6 with an RBI in the second game of a doubleheader on April 19, 1970 -- and had 11 other games where he had four hits. In terms of fantasy scoring, his best day was either May 21, 1969, when he went 4-for-6 with three runs scored and three stolen bases, or July 22, 1971, when he was 4-for-5 with three runs scored and three RBIs.
  
• Clarke was involved in one of the most surreal moments of baseball history on the final day of the 1971 season. The Yankees were playing the Washington Senators -- not the original Senators, who had moved to Minnesota to become the Twins in 1961, but the expansion team founded that same year to replace them. Rangers owner Bob Short, who had bought the team three years earlier, announced he was moving the team to Arlington, Texas, to become the Rangers. (Coincidentally, in 1957, Short had bought the Minneapolis Lakers and, three years later, moved them to Los Angeles.) The final home game of the Senators at RFK Stadium in Washington, D.C., was on September 30, 1971 against the Yankees. The game was tied, 5-5, but the soon-to-be Rangers scored a pair in the bottom of the 8th to take a 7-5 lead. In the top of the 9th, Felipe Alou and Bobby Murcer grounded out to bring up Horace Clarke. Before he could get to the plate, however, a fan ran onto the field and pulled up first base, prompting hundreds more fans to run onto the field in search of their own souvenirs. Clarke and the Senators ran off the field and the umpires called it a forfeit in favor of the Yankees.
  
• Horace wore #20 all 10 seasons he was with the Yankees. It was never a particularly popular number before him, as the only player who wore it more than a few seasons was Tiny Bonham (1940-1946). Bucky Dent wore #20 from 1977 to 1982, and previously forgotten Yankee Bobby Meacham from 1983 to 1988. Another previously forgotten Yankee, Mike Stanley, wore it from 1992 to 1995, then Jorge Posada had it until Stanley returned in 1997 and reclaimed it. After Stanley left the Yankees, he asked Posada to take it back, saying that number should belong to a catcher. And now it always will, as it was retired for Posada in 2015.
  
• His obituary in The New York Times noted that among major leaguers from the Virgin Islands -- "a relatively small roster" -- Clarke still holds the records for games played, hits, runs, RBIs, and stolen bases.
  
• After he retired, Clarke helped promote youth baseball in the U.S. Virgin Islands. One of the players he mentored was Jerry Browne, who played 10 years in the majors between 1986 and 1995 with the Rangers, Indians, A's, and Marlins. In his SABR biography, Browne credits Clarke with teaching him baseball fundamentals.
  
• According to the book Where Have All Our Yankees Gone? by Brian Jensen, Clarke played a uniquely Caribbean instrument called "the vibes." "The vibes is like a xylophone, marimba-related type sound. It's a keyboard-type related instrument." Clarke said he played the instrument during his Yankee days, but -- unlike Bernie Williams, who frequently strummed on his guitar in the clubhouse -- only during the off-season. "When I was with the Yankees, ya know, the instrument that I had, the vibes, I was doing it, ya know, but never in the clubhouse, though. Once you are in the clubhouse, it is all work, ya know. That was never so much allowed. I had the instrument all the years that I was a Yankee but I was involved with baseball. That was my full time and I didn't have full time to play music but, ya know, in the off-season I would have a vibe and try to learn a song by hearing from a tape or a record and that's what it was." After retiring, Clarke played the instrument with a local band called Out of Nowhere.
  
• Of the 15 major leaguers to have been born in the U.S. Virgin Islands, the only other Yankee was Elrod Hendricks, a backup catcher for the Bombers from 1976 to 1977. Jabari Blash, born in St. Thomas, gets an honorable mention for the three months he spent as a Yankee during the 2017-2018 off-season. Blash was acquired from the Padres for Chase Headley on December 12, then traded to the Angels for a PTBNL or cash considerations. I guess we got the cash, because apparently no player was ever named.
  
• There's a Horace Clarke High School in Jamaica, but it's not named after the Yankee. It's named after the Horace Clarke who was a member of parliament in Jamaica from 1972 to 2002.
  
• Also not him: Horace Clarke, a teenager shot and seriously wounded by a Blackfeet Indian named Owl Child on August 17, 1869. Clarke's father, Malcolm, was killed in the same attack, which was purportedly revenge for Malcolm Clarke having attacked him two years earlier... which Malcolm claimed he'd done because Owl Child had stolen horses from him... which Owl Child said he'd done in revenge for yet an earlier dispute. The pursuit of Owl Child resulted in a massacre of at least 170 people, mostly elderly men, women, and children. As for Owl Child, he escaped to Canada and was never seen again.
  

"I remember the first game I played in Yankee Stadium in 1965. There were more than 40,000 people in the stands. I had just come from my country where there are 30,000 people in the entire country. That was some adjustment." -- Horace Clarke

Overall, Horace Clarke hit .257/.309/.315 in 5,144 plate appearances as a Yankee. His numbers aren't quite as bad as they appear, as he played during one of the lowest offense eras since deadball... an 84 OPS+. That ranks him ahead of fondly-remembered Yankees like Shelley Duncan (81 OPS+), Rick Cerone (80 OPS+), Miguel Cairo (80 OPS+), Bucky Dent (72 OPS+), and... Bobby Richardson (77 OPS+). And while many complained about his defense, his defensive metrics -- such as we have for his era -- indicate he was at least an average defender. He led the league in range factor three times, in fielding percentage once, in assists six times, and in double plays twice.
People tend to think about Clarke -- if they think about him at all -- as either a terrible player, representative of the teams he played on, or a good player who was wasted on bad teams. The truth is somewhere in the middle. As sportswriter Maury Allen said, he was "an average big-leaguer on below-average Yankee teams."
And in fact, Clarke's 16.0 career bWAR as a Yankee is twice as much value as the player he replaced, Bobby Richardson (8.0 bWAR). But Richardson was a fan favorite, while Clarke was scorned. But of course... Richardson won three rings. And Yankee fans love a winner!

"New York is New York. You don’t win, you’re going to hear about it. I was in the middle." -- Horace Clarke

Had Clarke come along a few years earlier and been part of the early 1960s dynasty, he might be remembered fondly as a scrappy infielder, a Tony Kubek or a Bucky Dent or a Scott Brosius -- a good but not great player who had some memorable moments.
Instead, Horace Clarke defines an era of futility.

Why is my cat obsessed with NOT pooping in the litterbox?
My sweet angel is gods gift to this earth except for this one teeny tiny little issue….he refuses to poop INSIDE the litter box
When we first got him he had no issues with it, he is almost 3 now and uses the litterbox just fine when it comes to doing a wee, hes never once had a wee accident but when it’s time to poo?
He takes all of his poops directly beside the litterbox…never anywhere else…always directly beside.
Ive tried changing the location of the litter, adding another box, changing the litter type, anything I could think of but I have now resorted to having to follow him around until its poo time and having to physically put him in the box to do his business…
They are all regular poops, no diarrhea or anything like that
Is this just a habit at this point? Is there anything I can do?
Edit: we HAVE been to the vet and he is perfectly healthy, we have done what the vet has suggested (adding another litter box, changing the litter, moving the box to a new location, etc etc) but they seem to be out of advice

Bio from The Festival Voice

Artist Biography by Daniel Karasek
Grouplove is a Los Angeles-based indie rock outfit that formed in the late 2000s around the talents of Hannah Hooper, Christian Zucconi, Sean Gadd, Ryan Rabin who is the son of Yes guitarist Trevor Rabin, and Andrew Wessen. The whole gang met and bonded at an art residency in Greece on the island of Crete. Before leaving the island, the five former strangers agreed to meet up and record some of the music they had already worked on. The group recorded in Ryan's Los Angeles studio and created the band Grouplove. The group's self-titled debut EP arrived in 2010 and helped get them an opening tour slot with Florence + the Machine the following year. In 2011, Grouplove released their debut album Never Trust a Happy Song which peaked at number 75 on the Billboard 200 with four singles including "Tongue Tied" This single became number one on the Billboard Alternative Songs Chart. The band's second album Spreading Rumours came out in 2013 and hit number 21 on the Billboard 200 as well as number seven on the Top Rock Albums Chart. Their next album Big Mess arrived in 2016 and also charted well reaching number 40 on the Billboard 200. In 2020, Grouplove released their four album Healer which peaked at number five on Billboard's Alternative Albums Chart. Their next album came the next year titled This is This. This album was self-produced by the band and featured the single "Deadline" which hit number 28 on Billboard's Alternative Airplay Chart. Grouplove's latest album was 2023's I Want It All Right Now which got a deluxe tuneup in 2024.

 
Genre: Indie Pop, Indie Rock
Scheduled: Friday
Songs & Sets:
Grouplove - Tongue Tied
Grouplove - "Ways to Go"
Grouplove - Full Performance (Live on KEXP)
Grouplove: NPR Music Tiny Desk Concert From The Archives
Have you seen Grouplove before? Please share your experience and favorite songs.
 

Days Until Bonnaroo: 31

Remember to drink water and warm up those high fives!
 
Link to previous AotD post

Receive a flat 10% off your next purchase if you spend more than $100, and receive one cache free when you pay full amount in advance(Purchase amount min 60$).
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100% Sets delivered On Time .
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Updated Price List : 3-19-2024**(U)** = Unbundled set
Dota 2 collector's cache I & II 2020

Set	Hero	Price
Claszureme Incursion (Very Rare)	Faceless Void	70$ (sold out)
Steward of the Forbidden Chamber (Rare)	Templar Assassin	30$
Apocalypse Unbound	Ancient Apparition	12$
Fury of the Righteous Storm	Disruptor	6$
Signs of the Allfather	Nature's Prophet	15$
Lineage of the Stormlords	Juggernaut	40$
The King Of Thieves	Keeper of the Light	10$
Wrath of the Fallen	Doom	15$
Horror from the Deep	Tidehunter	25$
Talons of the Endless Storm	Chaos Knight	18$
Blaze of Oblivion	Phoenix	8$
Carousal of the Mystic Masquerade	Rubick	8$
Evolution of the Infinite	Enigma	8$
Clearcut Cavalier	Timbersaw	8$
Blacksail Cannoneer	Sniper	8$
Crown of Calaphas	Shadow demon	18$
Secrets of the Celestial	Skywrath mage	8$
Beast of the Crimson Ring	Bristleback	12$
Ire of the Ancient Gaoler (U)	Arc Warden	30$
Master of the Searing Path (U)	Ember Spirit	30$

Aghanim's 2021 Collector's Cache

Set	Hero	Price
Perception of the First Light	Dawnbreaker	18$
Forgotten Fate	Mars	10$
Perils of the Red Banks	Chen	12$
Stranger in the Wandering Isles (Unbundled)	Drow Ranger	50$
Pyrexae Polymorph Perfected ( Rare )	Ogre Magi	35$

Nemestice Collector's Cache 2021

Set	Hero	Price
Twilight Hex	Dark Willow	15$
Litany of the Damned	Doom	15$
Caerulean Star	Enchantress	8$
Eyriebound Imperator	Skywrath Mage	20$
Anthozoan Assault	Tiny	25$
Defender of the Brumal Crest	Winter Wyvern	15$
Indomitable Legacy ( Rare )	Sven	55$ (SOLD) Buyer

Diretide 2022 Collector's Cache I

Set	Hero	Price
Shadowleaf Insurgent	Hoodwink	$15
Scarlet Subversion	Riki	$15
Whippersnapper	Snapfire	$10
Hounds of Obsession	Chen	$10
Seadog's Stash	Clockwork	$10
Starlorn Adjudicator	Dawnbreaker	$15
Spoils of the Shadowveil	Spectre	$15
Trophies of the Hallowed Hunt	Ursa	$10
Crimson Dawn	Phoenix	$10
Forgotten Station	Terrorblade	$15
Dirge Amplifier	Undying	$15
Champion of the Fire Lotus	Monkey King	$10
Deathstitch Shaman	Witch Doctor	$10
Blue Horizons ( Rare )	Marci	$30
Angel of Vex ( Rare )	Invoker	$35
Dark Behemoth ( Very Rare )	Primal Beast	$50

Diretide 2022 Collector's Cache II

Set	Hero	Price
Transcendent Path	Oracle	$15
Darkfeather Factioneer	Phantom Assassin	$10
Freeboot Fortunes	Ogre Magi	$10

I've always been bound to death.
On my eighth birthday, a shadow strode into my house and shot me and my family dead. I remember it vividly, every detail, every angle, etched and stained and carved into my memory.
I sat very still with my knees to my chest, my gaze glued to my siblings.
Lily and PJ looked like they were sleeping, and I could almost believe it.
I didn't look at the shadow.
From the comfort of my knees, I waited for my brother to lift his head.
But his body was so limp, so still, every part of him faltering. My sister’s head was nestled in his shoulder, thick beads of red running down her face.
They're just sleeping.
I could tell myself they were— as long as I didn't look at the splatter of scarlet staining the back of the couch and pooling at their feet.
BANG.
Mom’s body dropped onto the ground.
I lunged forwards, slamming my hands over my ears.
BANG.
PJ’s head slumped forwards, a teasing smile still frozen on his lips.
BANG.
Lily gently tipped into PJ, like she was going to sleep.
Before she closed her eyes, Mom told me to run.
I can't remember how long I stayed under the shattered remnants of Mom’s favorite table. The shadow was waiting for me to move, to make a noise.
I watched booted feet crunch through glass, getting closer and closer, and slowly, fight or flight began to take over.
Making it halfway across the living room, my palms slick with my mother’s blood, I thought I was going to live.
Cruel fingers wound their way through my hair and shoved me to my knees. I remember the phantom legs of a spider creeping down the back of my neck when the shadow with no face dragged the barrel of his gun down my spine.
“Turn around.”
The shadow had a voice.
When I didn't move, the protruding metal stabbed into my neck.
“Turn around, kid!”
I did, very slowly.
Behind him, my siblings still weren't moving.
They were asleep.
Lily was still smiling, strawberry blonde ringlets stained red.
I couldn't see PJ’S face anymore.
BANG.
I didn't feel the gunshot.
I didn't feel anything.
Looking down, I glimpsed slowly spreading red blossoming like a flower.
It felt like being cut from strings.
I hit the ground, just like my mother, my body felt heavy and wrong.
Paralysed.
I remember being unable to scream, unable to cry, the salty taste of metal filling my mouth. It was like being winded. Rolling onto my side, all I could see was flickering candlelight.
The air was thick, so hard to breathe.
I rolled onto my back trying to suck in air.
The shadow took a step back, opened the front door, and bled into the night.
I don't remember the pain, and I don't remember dying. I couldn't breathe, couldn't conjure words in my mouth.
I felt warm and sticky, lying in my own blood.
I think I tried to move.
But I was so tired.
I’m not sure what death feels like, because it's like going to sleep.
I remember my last shuddering breaths, a lulling darkness beginning to swallow me up. I don't know why I wasn't afraid.
Oblivion almost felt like I was sinking into lukewarm depths on a Summer’s day.
Oblivion wasn't pain, and there was a peaceful inevitability to it.
It was endless nothing, a nothing I found myself gravitating towards. But before I could envelope myself in that darkness, it was spitting me back out.
The next thing I knew, I was in a white room, a slow beeping sound tearing me from slumber. I had a vague memory of slow spreading roses blossoming across my shirt, like summer flowers blooming.
Everything was white.
The walls, the ceiling, and my clothes.
Sensation hit me in slow waves.
Exhaustion.
I felt it tightening its grip around my brain, dragging me back onto a mountain of pillows when I tried to jump up. My Aunt May was sitting next to me on a plastic chair, her warm fingers entangled in mine. Aunt May and Mom were practically twins, with the same thick red hair and pale skin.
Mom wore her hair in a casual ponytail, while May preferred a strict bun.
I had to bite back the urge to yank my hand away.
Aunt May was asleep, used tissues filling her lap.
There was a nurse pottering around, checking my vitals and prodding my arms. My eyes felt heavy. I had to blink several times to keep myself awake.
“Charlie?”
The nurse’s voice was like wind-chimes.
I pretended not to notice her forced lipstick smile, the way she stood with her arms folded, staring at me like I was one of my cousin’s experiments. “You were in an accident, sweetie,” the nurse spoke up. I could see her trembling hands. “Just, um, try and rest, okay?”
I wanted to ask where my family was, but I already knew the answer.
I think she knew that too.
“You died, Charlie.” The nurse’s voice was eerily cold. “You were dead for thirteen minutes.”
She took slow steps towards me, her eyes growing frenzied, like she couldn't understand me, like I was a puzzle she could not solve– and it was driving her crazy. I could see it in her twitching hands, her wobbling lips that were trying and failing to appear stoic.
“In fact, I just pulled you out of the morgue, honey. I opened up your body bag that I had just zipped up, and told your aunt that you were a miracle I just… can’t understand.” The nurse sounded like she was trying to choke down a laugh, or maybe a sob.
“Charlotte, you were pronounced dead at 3:02am from a gunshot wound to the chest.” Taking a slow, sobering breath, the nurse tried to smile. “The bullet went through the right ventricle of your heart and severely damaged your left lung, rendering you unable to breathe. Your heart stopped, and after four attempts to resuscitate, we called it.”
Something slimy wound its way up my throat when she began to pace the room. “I… did all the paperwork. It took me two minutes. Your death certificate was signed, and your body was taken to the morgue to be prepped for transportation. Then I had my lunch. Tuna salad with a protein milkshake. I’m not a fan of the chocolate flavor.”
She shook her head. “Anyway, when I came back to you, you were awake inside your body bag.” Her voice was starting to break. “You were…um, alive, and asked me for apple soda.”
The nurse moved closer, and yet kept her distance.
I could feel myself moving back, panic writhing through me.
“So.” The nurse spoke calmly. “How the fuck are you still alive, Charlie?”
I think I passed out after that.
When I woke up again, my head a lot less heavier, the nurse was gone.
Slowly, my foggy brain began to find itself and connect dots.
My mouth was dry, full of cotton.
There was a sudden tightness, a sharp and cruel sting in my wrists.
Something sharp was protruding into my flesh, and no matter how many times I violently wrenched my arm, it was stuck. It didn't feel right to be able to breathe so easily.
I knew the second I woke that my Mom was dead.
Lily and PJ were dead, and it was like losing them all over again.
As clarity came over me, I found my voice, a strangled cry escaping my lips.
“Get it out.” I whispered in a shrill cry.
Tugging at the IV in my wrist, I tried to yank the needle from my skin.
“Get it out!” I shrieked, my gaze glued to the tiny spots of blood staining the insertion point.
I could see it again.
So much blood.
Mom was curled up on the floor, lying in slow spreading red that wouldn't stop, seeping across her beaded rug.
She was all over me, slick on my skin and caked in my fingernails.
I couldn't wash her off of me.
“You're okay, Charlotte.”
Aunt May’s voice came from my right, stabling me to reality.
The world started to move again, started to make sense again, when she cupped my cheeks and told me to breathe. When I opened my mouth to ask where my family were, she lightly shook her head and I swallowed my words. Aunt May handed me a glass of water, and I drained it in one gulp.
She told me I was a miracle.
Aunt May didn't say much, and when she did, she broke into sobs.
Her eyes were raw from crying, clinging onto me, her shuddery voice reassuring me that I was going to be okay.
She told me I would be living with her from now on, before wrapping me into a hug and leaving to get coffee.
Once my aunt was gone, another nurse came to prod my IV.
I tried to sleep, but the uncomfortable tightness of the needle sticking into my skin and the sterile white lights in my eyes made it impossible. I waited for grief to catch up with me, drowning me in a hollow oblivion I wouldn't be able to claw myself out of. But I didn't feel sad. I didn't feel angry.
I wanted to know why my family were dead.
I wanted to know why I was breathing, and their skin was ice cold.
Rotting.
The sudden image of maggots crawling up my brother’s nose sent me lurching into a sitting position, my stomach heaving. Reaching for my glass of water, it was empty. The sensation of throwing up felt familiar, almost comforting.
Mom was always with me when I was sick, holding my hair back and lulling my hysteria with reassuring murmurs.
I was frowning at the trash can by the door, my cotton candy brain trying to figure out if I would be able to make it in time, when a small voice drifted from the doorway, startling me.
“I don't want you to come live with us.”
My cousin was peeking through the door, hiding behind a shock of dark brown curls. Jude was the only brunette in our family. The rest of us were redheads.
I wasn't sure why he was dressed up like a ghost, draped in a white cloak that was way too big for him. Jude was a weird kid. His mother, and my auntie, had inherited the family house, so in his mind, that made him superior.
Jude made it clear he didn't like his cousins, refusing to let us play with him and banning us from family gatherings.
When the adults were drinking cocktails and losing their awareness, Jude ordered us around. The times we did play with him, our cousin showed us his spider collection, or the raccoon brain he kept in a jar. PJ was convinced our younger cousin was a serial killer. Several months earlier, he'd happily showed us the roadkill he'd been growing bacteria on under his bed.
Jude’s ‘experiments’ were worrying.
He stuffed mushrooms down my brother’s ears while he was sleeping, to, and I quote, “Recreate The Last Of Us.”
When Lily had a nosebleed during Thanksgiving dinner, Jude collected all her bloody tissues and refused to tell us where he'd put them, and what he had done with them. Fast-forward two months, and I found them under a nest of spiders. Jude was trying to adapt the spiders to be able to feed on human blood. I was surprised my cousin hadn't immediately demanded to see my siblings’ dead bodies for autopsy.
Jude stepped into the room, shuffling his feet.
“I'm sorry about Lily, PJ, and Aunt Ivy.” He mumbled, glaring at the floor tiles.
My cousin made no move to offer real sympathy, instead speaking to the floor.
“But I don't want you to come live with us.” Jude lifted his head, looking me dead in the eye. “I don't like you, Charlie. I want you to stay away.”
Before I could reply, he stepped back like I was diseased.
“You should be dead.” Jude grumbled.
He scowled at me, getting my age purposely wrong as usual before running off.
“Happy 68th birthday.”
I was six months older than him.
In Jude’s eyes, I was ready for retirement.
Still, though, my cousin was right.
I was stone cold dead, and then I was somehow alive.
Which was wrong.
Growing up, I realized Death was not so subtly attempting to fix his mistake.
It started small. I'd choke on things I wasn't supposed to choke on.
Chips.
Candy.
Ice cream.
Aunt May had to perform the heimlich manoeuvre when I choked on a piece of chicken. I thought I was just really unlucky, but then I locked myself in a freezer that didn't have a lock, and almost drowned in the local swimming pool, catching my foot in stray netting.
At the summer fair, Jude convinced me to try apple bobbing, only for my head to conveniently get stuck underwater.
It started to make sense.
I was supposed to die with my family that night, and death was out to get me.
Death started to get clever, changing his tactic. Instead of using everyday things to try to kill me, he sent reinforcements.
I turned twelve years old, and my aunt threw me a huge party, inviting all my classmates. Aunt May was rich, rich.
Mom never explained it, but our grandparents left everything to May.
The house was like a palace, a labyrinth of floors I was yet to explore, and two swimming pools.
I was in the kitchen cutting myself a slice of cake, when, out of nowhere, a dead boy came rushing at me with one of my aunt’s favorite kitchen knives.
A dead boy who I immediately recognised.
Wren Oliver.
Several years prior, he'd gone missing from his parents' yard. The town launched a full investigation, only to find his body in a ditch a week later.
So, Death had sent a footsoldier.
Hiding under a hooded sweatshirt, Wren appeared older, like he had grown up with me. But there was a startling vacancy in his expression that drew the breath from my lungs, freezing me in place. Wren’s death was announced as an accident, though his wounds suggested the opposite, dried blood smearing his right temple and a cavernous hole in his chest, his clothes painted, stained, in bright red, glued in sticky mounds clinging to him.
The boy’s eyes were wild, feral, like an animal.
His hair was longer, a mess of reddish curls matted to his forehead.
Lip split into a demented giggle.
I remember taking a slow step back, my gaze glued to the knife.
Wren’s fingers were wrapped around the handle like he knew exactly how to use it, how to plunge it into my heart and kill me for good. He moved like a predator, zero self awareness or recognition, only driven to kill me.
The dead boy prided himself in slow, intimidating steps, shoving me against the wall and dragging the blade of the knife down the curve of my throat.
His eyes confused me, writhing with hatred that was artificial, programmed into him as Death’s official soldier.
He didn't speak, only smiled, revelling in my fear. I could tell it thrilled him, my trembling hands, my sharp, heavy breaths I couldn't control. Squeezing my eyes shut, I waited to finally die.
I waited for the pain, and to lose my breath once again.
But death was playing with me.
When I opened my eyes, the dead boy was gone, and I was on my knees, screaming.
“Wren Oliver is trying to kill me!" I managed to hiss.
My aunt knelt in front of me, her expression crumpling.
*Sweetie,” She spoke softly, squeezing my hands. Aunt May was trying to appear calm for my sake, but I could tell she was scared, her frantic eyes searching mine. “Wren Oliver is dead.”
The kids surrounding me started to giggle, whispering among themselves.
In the corner of my eye, my cousin was leaning against the door, mid eye roll.
When my aunt was ushering kids back to the pool, Jude came to crouch in front of me. Ever since I started living with him, he'd made sure to keep his distance.
This time, though, Jude leaned uncomfortably close, a sparkle in his eyes I had never seen before. Inclining his head, he rocked back and forth on his heels, prodding me in the forehead.
“If you see the dead boy again, can you tell me?” His lips curved into a smile.
“I did see him.” I gritted out. “I’m not lying.”
Jude shrugged. “I never said you didn't,” he lowered his voice into a whisper, “I wanna know when you see him again.”
“Why?”
His lips curved into a smirk.
“So, I can catch him.”
My cousin got closer, his breath tickling my cheek.
“I seeeeeeee dead people.”
After that incident, death left me alone for a while.
I was fifteen, walking through the forest with a friend, catching fireflies in bell jars. Aunt May was lucky to live so close to the forest, the entrance just outside her back door. When we were littles, PJ would drag Lily and I down the trail to escape Jude’s weird experiments.
I decided to invite Jem Littlewood on a summer walk.
Jem was cute, but in a dorky way. He was chronically clumsy, and dressed like he'd been spat out of a John Hughes movie. We hiked all the way to the end of the river and had a picnic, watching the sun set over the horizon. I was having conflicting feelings for this guy.
Jem was obsessed with fireflies.
Though he seemed more interested in photographing them than me.
The guy couldn't seem to sit still, jumping to his feet to marvel at tiny specks of light dancing in the air.
“I'm just going to take photos!” Jem beamed, holding up his camera.
I had to bite back the urge to say, “Don't you have enough photos?”
I nodded, and he turned and sprinted back down the trail.
Before his footsteps ground to a sudden halt.
At first, I thought he was snapping polaroids.
When I got closer, though, blinking in the eerie dark, I caught something.
Bending down, I picked up a bell jar still spilling fireflies.
Further down the trail, Jem was lying crumpled in the dirt, his camera smashed to pieces next to him, blood running in thick rivulets down his temple. There he was. Leaning against a tree, his arms folded, was the ghost boy. Wren Oliver was growing up with me. Now, a teenager, and yet his face was carved into something else entirely, more of a monster, slight points to his ears and too-sharp teeth, eyes ignited.
Wren didn't look like a ghost boy anymore.
Death had dressed him in shackles of ivy, a crown of glass and bone forced onto his head, entangled in his curls. Death was torturing him.
Wren’s body was its canvas, and every time I got away, he was punished, painting his failures across scarred skin.
I should have been running for my life, but I was mesmerised by each symbol cruelly carved into his neck.
The boy did a slow head incline, like he couldn't believe I was standing in front of him.
His slow spreading smile caught me off guard.
I remembered how to run, stumbling over my feet.
But I couldn't move.
The burning hatred that death had filled him with, was stronger, hollowing him out completely. I managed two shaky steps, before I felt him, an unearthly force winding its way around my spine. This time, he didn't hesitate.
I watched his mouth move, a single curve of his upper lip that wrenched my body from my control, slamming me against a tree. There was something around my throat, choking the breath from my lungs, a thick fog spreading over my eyes.
Following his mouth curving into silent letters, I could feel my feet slowly leaving the ground, my legs dangling.
I was floating.
Hovering off of the ground, suspended by his words.
Through half lidded eyes, I caught the glint of a blade between his fist, but I couldn't move, couldn't scream.
He was drowning me, bleeding into my blood, spider webbing and expanding in my brain without moving a muscle.
Instead, the ghost boy stood silently, running his thumb down the teeth of his knife while he ripped my lungs apart.
It was like suffocating, sinking into that peaceful oblivion I met at eight years old.
This time, though, the darkness was starving.
“Charlie?”
My eyes found daylight, a scream clawing out of my mouth.
“Charlie, it's past curfew!”
Wren flinched, his stoic expression crumpling.
The dead boy’s lips moved again, this time in a curse.
Fuck.
“Charlotte!”
Staggering back, Wren’s eyes widened and the suffocating hold on me severed.
His head snapped in the direction my aunt was coming from.
“Charlie, answer me right now.”
He hesitated, his bare feet pivoting in the dirt, like he was considering finishing me off. Wren studied me with lazy eyes, sucking on his bottom lip. When my aunt's footsteps got louder, branches snapping under her shoes, something contorted in the boy’s face.
Fear.
I guessed the boy wasn't expecting other humans to intrude.
Wren fell over himself, shuffling on his hands and knees, before diving to his feet. When he turned and ran, I was released, slipping to the ground, trying and failing to draw in breath. I barely felt the impact, only a dull thudding pain. I could hear the ghost boy’s footsteps, his uneven, shuddery breaths as he catapulted into a run.
Under a late setting sun, I watched his dancing shadow disappear into the trees.
Mission unsuccessful, I guessed.
When I was fully conscious, Aunt May was checking over Jem, helping him sit up.
“Where did he go?” I managed to get out, scanning the darkness for Wren.
“He's okay, just concussed.” May whispered, dialling 911.
My aunt applied a dressing to Jem’s wound, ignoring the boy’s hisses.
“Keep still.” she murmured, smoothing his bandaid. “What happened, Charlotte?”
“She pushed me over.” Jem groaned, shuffling away from me. When my aunt told him to stay calm, he straightened up, leaning against the tree. “The psycho bitch tried to fucking kill me!”
When my aunt's gaze flicked to me, I shook my head.
“It was Wren Oliver.” I gritted, teetering on hysteria. I could tell she didn't believe me, but I couldn't stop myself.
I prodded at my throat, clawing for the indentations where his phantom fingers snaked around my neck, squeezing the breath from my lungs.
But there was nothing.
I could feel my mind starting to unravel. I nodded to my disgruntled classmate trying to dodge my aunt’s prodding.
“Ow, ow, ow! That stings!
“He knocked Jem out.” I managed. “Then he tried to kill me.”
Jem surprised me with a scoff. “You're seriously blaming your psychotic break on a dead kid?”
Aunt May pursed her lips, motioning for Jem to be quiet. Judging from her face, however, she agreed with the boy.
May forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. “Okay. Can you, uh, describe the boy to me, Charlotte?”
“He was wearing a crown,” I said, “And he looked my age.”
Aunt May cocked her head, and I saw real worry, like she was trying not to freak out. Jem made a snorting noise.
“I'm sorry, he was wearing a crown?”
“Yes!” I insisted, getting progressively more frustrated.
I tried to jump up, only for my aunt to gently lower me back down. “I know it sounds crazy, but death has sent Wren Oliver to kill me, just like my family. He tried to kill me when I was twelve, too!”
Jem let out a bitter laugh. “Your niece is a fucking wackadoodle.”
Aunt May’s eyes darkened. She grabbed my shoulders, her nails stabbing into my skin. “Charlie, I want you to listen to me, okay?” When my eyes found the rapidly darkening sky, my aunt forced me to look at her.
“Charlotte!”
She was as scared as me, her voice shuddering.
“Wren Oliver is dead.” My aunt said firmly, shaking me. Even then, though, I wasn't even looking at her. I was trying to find his ignited eyes lighting up the dark. “Wren died at eight years old in a terrible accident, and you can't keep using him as an excuse for your mental trauma.” There was something twitching in her expression I was trying to make sense of. When I risked a look at Jem, the boy was staring at me dazedly– like I really was crazy.
Aunt May pressed her face into my shoulder, and I could feel her tears soaking into my shirt. She was trying to hold it together, trying to understand.
“Charlie, I know you lost your family,” she whispered. “But you and Wren Oliver are not the same. You survived, and he didn't.” Her voice splintered.
“You need to come to terms with that, okay?”
When I didn't respond, she pinched my chin, forcing me to look at her.
“Charlotte.”
Aunt May’s voice turned cold. “I ignored this when you were a kid, but if you continue to use this poor boy as a coping mechanism, I will have no choice but to send you to a specialist.”
When Jem was taken away by paramedics, Aunt May held my hand, squeezing my fingers for dear life.
I caught her gaze scanning the tree's around us, delving into twisting oblivion. Every little noise sent her twisting around. She was looking for something.
“I'm going to get you help.” Aunt May said in a low murmur when we were back at the house. Jude was sitting on the kitchen counter, legs swinging. I could feel his penetrating gaze burning into the back of my head.
Aunt May set a cup of cocoa on the table.
“No more fairytales.”
By the time I was eighteen, I had bitten three therapists.
They refused to believe that death was coming to reclaim my soul, and was using a dead boy to do his dirty work.
For my 16th birthday, I braced myself to come face to face with Wren Oliver’s ghost.
I wasn't even in town, staying at a friend's house.
But dead boys, and especially dead boys moulded into Death’s personal soldiers, could materialise anywhere.
I locked every door in the house, and taped up my friend’s window.
Nothing happened.
On my seventeenth birthday, I was sick in bed with gastritis.
Still no ghost boy.
Death seemed to have finally left me alone.
On my eighteenth birthday, I was stuffing books in my locker when my cousin popped up out of nowhere, scowling as usual. After an unexpected growth spurt and losing a tonne of baby fat, my cousin had scaled the high school hierarchy, swapping his weird experiments for a varsity jacket and experimenting with his sexuality.
The two of us had come to an unspoken truce.
I kept quiet about his spider collection to his popular friends, and he tolerated my existence until I left for college.
“Your surprise party is cancelled.”
Jude leaned against my locker, running a hand through thick dark hair tucked under a baseball cap. Jude never admitted it, but he was definitely embarrassed of being the odd one out.
My siblings may be dead, but they were still redheads.
I pulled off his cap with a smile, throwing it in his face. “Sure it is.”
My cousin’s eyes widened. He lost his slick bravado, grabbing for his cap.
“Hey!”
According to my cousin, my party was unexpectedly cancelled every year.
I wasn't sure if it was his weird superiority complex, or just plain jealousy, but it was getting exhausting.
Jude followed me down the hallway, matching my stride.
“Can you just not come home tonight?”
I quickened my pace. “It's only a party. I'm having some friends over, and no, we won't go anywhere near your room.”
“No, I mean.” Jude stepped in front of me, and for the first time in a while, he wasn't trying to hide disdain for me.
His dark eyes pinned me in place for a moment, the world around us coming to a halt. Sound bled away, and all I heard were his slow breaths. There was something there, an unexplainable twitch in his eyes and lips, that twisted my gut.
Jude stepped closer, his lip curling. He shoved me back, losing his facade.
“Stay the fuck away from the house tonight.” He said, and his voice, his tone, was enough to send shivers creeping down my spine. Jude had always hid behind a ten foot wall in his mind. It was jarring to see something in him finally start to splinter. Fuck. I thought.
This kid had serious Mommy issues.
I blinked, and the world resumed, kids pushing past us.
Jude seemed to catch himself, slipping back under his mask.
“I'm having friends over,” he rolled his eyes, “Your presence will ruin the vibe.”
“It's my birthday?”
He groaned, tipping his head back. “Yes, I know. But–”
“I think you can deal with the attention off of you for one night, Jude.”
“Will Wren Oliver be there too?” Jem Littlewood hollered.
Jude didn't respond for a moment, his lip curling.
“Shut the fuck up.” He spat at Jem, who immediately backed down. With an audience this time, Jude forced an award winning smile. “Fine.” His lips split into a grin I knew he hated. My cousin clamped his hand on my shoulder, hard enough to hurt. I could feel his fingers pinching the material of my jacket. “Have it your way, dude.”
Jude backed away with a two fingered salute.
“Happy 78th birthday!”
In a sense, I wish I listened to my cousin.
My party was a success, sort of.
Four of us, a crate of beers, and no sign of my cousin.
I was mildly tipsy, sitting on the edge of the pool, dangling my legs in the water when my friend demanded more beers.
I was also hungry for cake, so I stumbled inside in search of the goods.
The house was dark, lit up in dazzling blue from the pool's lights reflecting through the windows. Aunt May was in her office on the ground floor, and Jude was getting high in his room. In my drunken state, I found myself marvelling my aunt's house, and how much of it was left unexplored.
For example, in the foyer, past the spiral staircase she’d had custom made, was an elevator I had never questioned.
There was a girl my age standing on the staircase.
She was frozen, mid run, dressed in ragged jeans and t-shirt.
Everything about her stuck out to me, bringing me to a sobering halt.
The girl reminded me of my sister– or at least, if my sister had ever grown up.
I wasn't sure if I was drunk or hallucinating.
Her flower crown was pretty…
Lily had grown wings.
I was slowly moving towards her, a sudden bang sounding from the kitchen.
The bang of something shattering on the floor.
Twisting around, I found myself gravitating towards warm golden light.
The first thing I saw was the refrigerator door hanging open, and someone, no, something, rooting around inside it.
Glued to the spot, I dazedly watched them grab milk, guzzling it down, and then soda, cracking open each can and sucking them dry, before carving their fingers into my birthday cake.
But I wasn't looking at the spillage of food seeping across the floor. Instead, my gaze found a crown of antlers, both human and animal bone entangled with dead flowers and human remains glued to a head of familiar matted brown curls. There was something sticking from battered and bruised flesh, twin gaping slits sliced through a torn shirt resembling glass wings that were not yet formed, reminding me of a butterfly.
Wings.
But not the wings I dreamed of as a kid. These things were unnatural mounds that both did and didn't make sense on a human boy. I could see the trauma of them slicing through his flesh, monstrous, looming things protruding from what was left of a human spine.
Human, and yet I couldn't call his beautifully grotesque face human.
Wren Oliver had grown up with me, now an adult.
Eighteen years old.
His clothes confused me, a single white shirt and shorts.
Wren’s feet were bare, battered and bruised, blood smearing my aunt's tiles.
Angel.
Death had turned his footsoldier, and my future killer, into an angel.
But there was nothing angelic about the dead boy, his body and mind sculpted and moulded into Death’s own.
The boy no longer resembled a human, feral eyes and a manic smile, choking down pieces of cake. His face had been contorted into a monster, gnashing teeth and sharp points in his ears, a sickly tinge to malnourished skin.
And that's when it hit me, watching him stuff himself with food.
Something slimy inched its way up my throat.
The boy didn't move. I don't even think he'd noticed me, gorging himself on anything he could get his hands on.
Chicken, raw bacon, leftover salad.
When he moved onto cupcakes, licking frosting from his fingers, I glimpsed markings on his arms, a language I didn't understand, carved into him.
His wrists were shackled, bound, in entangled iron and vine, iron that was ingrained into his skin, vines and flowers and ivy entangling his bones, that were part of him, polluting his blood. Slowly, my eyes found stab wounds splitting open his torso.
Raw flesh, where his skin had been torched, melting, and then merging, ripped apart and put back together over and over again.
I found his heart, the gaping cavern in his chest where it should be.
And it was.
Marked, carved, and branded with a symbol resembling an X.
Wren Oliver was not dead.
But, just like me, he should have been.
I remember saying his name, my voice slurred slightly.
I didn't drink that much, but I could barely coerce words, my head spinning.
Wren’s neck snapped towards me, his eyes narrowing with resentment I couldn't understand, hatred that seemed to puppeteer him. Slowly tilting his head, the boy’s lips split into a grin, eyes filled, polluted, with mania.
I could see where his lips had been stitched shut, and then ripped open.
“Hi.”
He held up his hand in an awkward wave.
When one of my friends stumbled into the kitchen, Wren reacted on impulse.
He picked up a knife from the counter, throwing it like a dart, straight through the guy’s throat.
Something shattered inside my mind.
Ignoring my friend bleeding out, Wren stumbled over himself, abandoning his feast. He took a single step towards me, backing me against the wall, coming so close, close enough for me to feel his very real breath grazing my cheeks. Just like when he was a kid, he traced the teeth of his blade down my throat. I wasn't expecting him to burst out laughing, trembling with hysteria.
His eyes were wild, feral and wrong, almost euphoric.
With what all I could only recognise as relief.
BANG.
I was barely aware of the gunshot.
The bullet went straight through his head, the winged boy hitting the ground.
Dead.
I saw the blood stemming around him in a halo before the bleeding pool faltered, seeping back inside his head.
Like rewinding a VCR.
Wren was dead, and then he was alive.
Wren’s body contorted, his chest inflating.
His gasp for air was painful, strangled, eyes opening wide.
Terrified.
“You fucking idiot.”
Jude’s voice sent me twisting around.
My cousin stood in the exact same robes he wore as a child.
The world tipped off kilter, and I was on my knees, then my stomach.
I sunk to the floor, my thoughts swimming.
Jude’s murmur followed me, creeping into the dark.
“I told you not to come home.”
I can't remember how long I was unconscious for.
When I woke, I was dressed in an evening gown, a dress that used to be my mother’s.
My vision cleared, and I found myself sitting in an unfamiliar room resembling an abandoned swimming hall.
The pool itself was empty, the bottom stained revealing scarlet.
There were symbols carved into each tile.
Like a game.
“Sit up straight, Charlotte.”
I was sitting at a banquet.
Jude was in front of me, sipping on wine.
He caught my eye for half a second before averting his gaze.
At the far end of the table sat my aunt May.
Kissing the rim of her glass, her smile was twisted.
“I've been waiting so long to give you your birthday presents, Charlotte. Your memories should be returning soon.”
“Mom.” Jude muttered, hiding behind his glass. “Calm down. You're embarrassing yourself.”
Ignoring my cousin, May tapped her glass with a fork, and in walked my birthday presents.
No, dragged.
By their hair.
Wren Oliver, the dead boy, was in fact my aunt's prisoner.
Behind him, was the girl who looked so much like Lily.
I think that's why my aunt chose her.
Aunt May cleared her throat.
“For a long time, our family has lived among creatures who live in the forest you played inside. In exchange for keeping this town safe, they only ask for small favors. Wayward children who disappear into the woods are good enough payment. Charlie, you and your siblings do not share our inheritance. Your mother never wanted fae children. She wanted you to be human.”
Aunt May’s smile faded.
“After losing my sister, and my niece and nephew, I made a deal to give my last surviving niece 100 years of life.”
Her words were white noise, my gaze glued to my birthday presents. I couldn't call them human anymore.
I couldn't call Wren human, when his face was so beautifully grotesque, painfully hypnotising.
The monstrous things sticking from twin slits in his back were supposed to be wings, except they looked wrong, cruelly protruding from his exposed spine. Under the influence of alcohol earlier, the girl made me smile.
Her wings, to me, looked like one of a real fairy.
In reality, they were torn and shredded apart, bigger than the girl herself.
When she dropped onto her stomach, she was dragged back to her feet, her knees buckling under the weight. Her tiara of flowers and bone looked pretty to me when I saw her on the stairs.
Now, though, I could see the pearly white of a human child's skull forced onto her head, dead flowers threaded through cavernous, gaping eye sockets.
The two of them were violently shoved into the empty pool.
“Jude. Please demonstrate, sweetheart.”
Jude stood, pulling out a gun, and aiming it at the winged girl.
BANG.
The girl’s body hit the tiles, her blood seeping across stained white.
“Now, of course, our king did not give you life for free.” May continued.
“The King demanded a debt, as well as two heirs to join him in his court once your hundred years were complete.”
Her lips quirked into a smile.
“The king is smart. If a child cannot be stolen from the human world, they can, however, be made, moulded and shaped from their human forms, skinned of their humanity through their suffering, leaving a hollowed out shell in the child's place.” She was speaking so casually, ignoring Wren’s whimpers.
“The conversion takes a while. 100 years to birth a fully blooded fae heir, who will lose their human memories, in preparation to join their new family.”
Jude shot Wren in the chest, his eyes empty.
This time, he dropped his weapon, using finger-guns instead.
“Bang.” He deadpanned.
Then the neck.
I watched Wren come back to life, and then die.
Over and over again.
I think at one point, he screamed and cried.
But not now.
He was their puppet on display, dancing for their entertainment.
Half lidded eyes drowned in oblivion found mine, and I understood his hatred.
Before he was shot again.
Stabbed.
Branded and burned, and ripped apart.
At some point, I screamed at them to stop. I couldn't breathe, slamming my hands over my ears and begging them.
Aunt May didn't listen, ordering for my hands to be tied down.
“The King required two human sacrifices to suffer in your place.” She concluded. “For one hundred years.”
Aunt May’s smile was suddenly sad, and she lifted her glass in a toast.
I was watching their blood trickle down each tile in the pool, like every death, every time they suffered, my body became progressively less human.
I felt disgusting. I wasn't supposed to be alive. Every single year of my life, every breath I had taken, was stolen.
Aunt May nodded at me, her lips forming a proud smile. She stood up, and was handed a sacrificial knife.
Climbing into the swimming pool herself, she strode over to Wren.
The boy slumped to the floor, trembling, his knees against his chest.
Aunt May grabbed him by the hair, forcing his head up, and sliced the blade across his throat.
His eyes flicked to me, and I swore he smiled.
Spots of red dotted yellowing tiles, a river trickling under my aunt's heels.
“Happy 78th birthday, Charlotte.”
Last night ended with me being locked in my room.
It's been almost 15 hours, and the door is still locked. Please help me. I'm fucking terrified of what my aunt is planning.
I can't stop shgajing. FycjbfucibFUCK
If she is telling the truth, I shouldn't be here, right??
And I can't stop thinking.
Is Wren Oliver trying to kill me, or himself?

I've been playing Isaac for around 700 hours and have over half of the achievements, and recently I saw a lot of videos questioning the quality of certain items, for example: People say Pop! should be quality 2 or how Tiny Planet is a good synergy item. But I've never once heard of people mentioning Duality in those reddit posts/YouTube tier lists, I personally think Duality has to be at least quality 2 since being able to access both Devil and Angel rooms without having to sacrifice hearts or rig the game is a huge benefit, especially if you have something like goat head or eucharist. I would like to know if people in the community would agree with my opinion and if you think there's other items that should be a different quality compared to others.

Receive a flat 10% off your next purchase if you spend more than $100, and receive one cache free when you pay full amount in advance(Purchase amount min 60$).
*Reservations are made so that I am sure you will buy from me and you'll not back off.
100% Sets delivered On Time .
To reserve an item/set you need to pay 25% of the price in advance.
The reservation fee is non-refundable and will be deducted from the total payment.
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Buyers go first; add me now if you're interested in a 30-day cooldown period.
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also there might still be a limitation to gift only 8 bundles per day.
Updated Price List : 3-19-2024**(U)** = Unbundled set
Dota 2 collector's cache I & II 2020

Set	Hero	Price
Claszureme Incursion (Very Rare)	Faceless Void	70$ (sold out)
Steward of the Forbidden Chamber (Rare)	Templar Assassin	30$
Apocalypse Unbound	Ancient Apparition	12$
Fury of the Righteous Storm	Disruptor	6$
Signs of the Allfather	Nature's Prophet	15$
Lineage of the Stormlords	Juggernaut	40$
The King Of Thieves	Keeper of the Light	10$
Wrath of the Fallen	Doom	15$
Horror from the Deep	Tidehunter	25$
Talons of the Endless Storm	Chaos Knight	18$
Blaze of Oblivion	Phoenix	8$
Carousal of the Mystic Masquerade	Rubick	8$
Evolution of the Infinite	Enigma	8$
Clearcut Cavalier	Timbersaw	8$
Blacksail Cannoneer	Sniper	8$
Crown of Calaphas	Shadow demon	18$
Secrets of the Celestial	Skywrath mage	8$
Beast of the Crimson Ring	Bristleback	12$
Ire of the Ancient Gaoler (U)	Arc Warden	30$
Master of the Searing Path (U)	Ember Spirit	30$

Aghanim's 2021 Collector's Cache

Set	Hero	Price
Perception of the First Light	Dawnbreaker	18$
Forgotten Fate	Mars	10$
Perils of the Red Banks	Chen	12$
Stranger in the Wandering Isles (Unbundled)	Drow Ranger	50$
Pyrexae Polymorph Perfected ( Rare )	Ogre Magi	35$

Nemestice Collector's Cache 2021

Set	Hero	Price
Twilight Hex	Dark Willow	15$
Litany of the Damned	Doom	15$
Caerulean Star	Enchantress	8$
Eyriebound Imperator	Skywrath Mage	20$
Anthozoan Assault	Tiny	25$
Defender of the Brumal Crest	Winter Wyvern	15$
Indomitable Legacy ( Rare )	Sven	55$ (SOLD) Buyer

Diretide 2022 Collector's Cache I

Set	Hero	Price
Shadowleaf Insurgent	Hoodwink	$15
Scarlet Subversion	Riki	$15
Whippersnapper	Snapfire	$10
Hounds of Obsession	Chen	$10
Seadog's Stash	Clockwork	$10
Starlorn Adjudicator	Dawnbreaker	$15
Spoils of the Shadowveil	Spectre	$15
Trophies of the Hallowed Hunt	Ursa	$10
Crimson Dawn	Phoenix	$10
Forgotten Station	Terrorblade	$15
Dirge Amplifier	Undying	$15
Champion of the Fire Lotus	Monkey King	$10
Deathstitch Shaman	Witch Doctor	$10
Blue Horizons ( Rare )	Marci	$30
Angel of Vex ( Rare )	Invoker	$35
Dark Behemoth ( Very Rare )	Primal Beast	$50

Diretide 2022 Collector's Cache II

Set	Hero	Price
Transcendent Path	Oracle	$15
Darkfeather Factioneer	Phantom Assassin	$10
Freeboot Fortunes	Ogre Magi	$10

(32F) come from a culture where families tend to be nosy; e.g. it is normal for elders to interfere in your business, ask intimate questions or provide unsolicited advice. I find this stupid & have responded to my mom’s comments regarding pregnancy multiple times that it‘s a private matter, non of her business, or simply that if she wants a child then she should have it. My mom and l are not close, I’m not the golden child & we have a very rough relationship: she is my most discussed topic in therapy, but she acts like she was an angel.
Now the main story: I have been married for 5+ years& live with my husband in Europe. We started trying for a baby last year & I’m now 7 weeks pregnant. We broke the news to my parents yesterday because of my father's job; he lives in another country & needs to inform his employer soon about his vacation situation. The plan is to meet everybody back in our home country when I am around 6M pregnant, break the news to everyone & travel back home to have the baby. The issue is I don't want my mom staying with me & „helping" with the baby. She is very demanding & often comments on the way I dress, my makeup, my cooking, my marriage, the furniture I choose for my home, etc. If she comes, she'll hijack the situation: She'll complain that the bed is too small, the kitchen is tiny, the freezer cannot store too much food & so on. She will rob my husband of the chance to bond with the baby, & she'll be a burden asking him to get her stuff & translate for her. The last major fight that we had was about 2 years ago& after that fight I fell into deep depression, lost 20kg & took a year to recover (therapy). She doesn’t have a great effect on my mental health & I‘m afraid that if she stays with me, I will get a bad case of PPD.
When announcing the pregnancy, she said that she is eager to come stay with us; I didn’t respond. The next day she explicitly mentioned wanting to come & said something like „don't deny me this" or „don't take that from me". I responded saying that maybe it would be best to do that around a month or so after the birth. She got defensive, hinted at wanting to attend the birth and said my husband & I are not experienced & would need all the help we could get, so I mentioned the midwives & the support we get from the medical staff. I told her that we would prepare food & freeze it & that it is cold here & that she would need my husband to drive her around to buy her winter clothes, take her to the supermarket & that is not the proper time for that. She kept saying that I am just saying this now, but I would need someone to cook me fresh food & take care of me. At the end she said this is not the time for this conversation. Now I want to tell her this a boundary that I will not let her cross.
Am I the asshole that I don't want her around? I understand that this is her first & probably last grandchild, but this is not about her. Or am I being selfish?