I’m very new to skincare, as in, I knew almost nothing and did almost nothing but occasionally put some random lotion on my face after a shower every once in a while. I have fairly dry, red skin that gets worse with any activity, and am painfully pale. Currently I’m using a redness cream from Eucerin that hasn’t seemed to help much, L’Oréal Paris’ Hydra Genius, Roc’s night time barrier cream moisturizer and CereVe SPF moisturizer in the morning. I also use an Aveeno redness relief gentle cleanser in the evening after taking makeup off and before my shower and in the morning before putting product and makeup on.
It seems no matter what I put on my face, my face flares up and turns pretty red and warm and stays that way for a few hours, and then as product sinks in especially overnight it calms down, and my face feels amazing after. Is this just normal? The L’Oréal Paris Hydra Genius was actually stinging and burning my face, so I did some research and found out it might be my skin barrier needs some help. So I got the Roc night time barrier cream, and that’s what really flared my face up. But then the next morning, it had calmed down and the Hydra Genius didn’t sting as much. What gives? Is my skin just super easily irritated? Is it supposed to happen?

Hello Philippines DnD community!
Last weekend, I happened to join a random group of people playing DnD at a Starbucks here in Moresby, Papua New Guinea. They were very friendly and allowed me to join their game. I learned that they're here in my country to attend a contest. The people in their group kept addressing the DM as their coach, even though he seemed to be the same age as the rest of the group. He looks like their teacher. I can't find them anymore and the venue of the contest said that they already returned to the Philippines.
His DM style was very unique that leaves me craving for more. He described things with sentences ending in rhymes, and he sang a lot. He also makes puzzles that makes your ears bleed, which was good because the group seemed to be smart people (not me).
He's a guy with a very pale skin, black hair and small eyes. He wears glasses. The only thing I know about him is that he said his name was Trii. (he emphasized the double "i" so i remembered)
Please help me find him, I regret not taking his contact information. I'm craving more games with him.

Hi all!
So a little context: the main story of our campaign is that druids, who were believed to be completely extinct, have started showing up and there is a powerful arch druid orchestrating an attack on humanity in this region, looking to take back the land that humans have built on for centuries. So far, the party has been led to believe that this arch druid is a small male human-like figure, pale skin and white hair, very distinct. Last session, the party finally met this person, as him and 3 other druids were attempting to resurrect and powerful dragon. The party successfully stopped the ritual and killed the assistant druids, but decided to keep the pale one alive for questioning, as he did not offer resistance, he did not even participate in the fight.
Now, this pale man is not the arch druid. He is a prophesized messiah that would bring back the king of druids from far ago and thus begin the rise of a new druid era. This man has incredible power (if anyone would like to suggest his origin, I'm all ears, I couldn't come up with anything so right now no one knows who his parents were, he just remembers always living in a secluded forest with animals), but he is 100% peaceful. On the other hand, the so-called king of druids is evil, holding a grudge on humans for centuries. Many centuries ago he fought an archmage, in a battle that came to a draw somewhat. The archdruid managed to defeat the archmage but with his dying breath he managed to transform the archdruid into a dragon egg. It has since hatched and grown into a very young dragon. He has a telepathic connection to the pale one, who he has been manipulating to gather artifacts to perform a ritual where he will sacrifice the pale one to absorb his power in order to be able to return to his true form (pale one does not know)
Anyway, due to this telepathic connection, the arch druid now knows the party has taken the pale one hostage and my idea is to have the arch druid send waves of animals increasingly stronger to get the pale one back. The arch druid is residing, as a dragon, in a cave somewhere in the mountains next to the town where the party is.
What I would like help with is these waves of enemies: how much time between waves (I want the party to feel at least uneasy at all times, urging them to take action), what animals/creatures could be interesting to use, how much stronger than the previous they should be, etc. This is the final arc of the campaign (for a number of reasons but mainly I am tired of being the forever DM and want to give one of the players the chance to do it, since they showed interest), I'm imagining it culminating in an encounter with the archdruid dragon. They are level 5, so of course this dragon would be scaled down in terms of power, but I still want it to be interesting and epic, so any tips on running a BBEG encounter are also welcome!
Sorry for dragging out, thank your anything!

Reddit: u/smooth-option-4375 Discord Name: Swag Name and House: Waymar Corbray of House Corbray Age: 24 Cultural Group: Andal Appearance:
A tall man, lean yet muscular after the fashion of a professional athlete. He has the build of a knight who favors lithe dexterity over sheer strength.
When garbed for battle he is an intimidating figure, wearing a mail hauberk and chausses covered with a blackened steel cuirass, with a white surcoat emblazoned with the sigil of his house: a black raven in flight carrying a red heart. On his limbs, he wears steel vambraces, darkened black, enclosed around his forearms and simple should guards. On his feet, he dons hard leather boots with steel toes, that rise to meet steel leg greaves.
On his side swings a scabbard that holds his ancestral longsword, its pommel housing a dark red ruby in the shape of a heart. The guard as simple as it is ancient.
Though young he has a well-worn face, making him appear some years older than he ought to. Hardened from long hours in the sun and scarred from battle. He has piercing blue eyes, and cheeks rough with stubble.
When on the road, he will be found with a travel-stained cloak and hood, tied to his shoulders. Never far from his side is his massive, pitch black destrier Warlord, who stands at the considerable seventeen hands high at the shoulder.
Compared to most nobility he makes a pitiful sight, his armor is darkened, scratched, and dented. His clothing torn and mended a dozen times over. Dressed in hardy cloth and wool rather than more extravagant furs and silks. Despite his outward appearance however, he bears the heart full of valor and chivalry.
Trait: Strong Skills: Andal Knight (e), Swords, Water Dancer, Riding Talents: Etiquette, Heraldry & Tourney Lore, Outdoorsmanship Starting Titles: The Wayfarer, Hastiluder of Hearts Home Starting Location: [Starting Event]
BIOGRAPHY:
Ser Waymar Corbray was born into the noble house of Corbray in the year 1 AC to the Raven Knight, Lord Corwyn Corbray and Lady Ellyn Hightower. The pair spared no expense with any of their children despite the houses less than robust financial situation, thinking of it as the most sure of investments.
Lady Ellyn, a woman of refined taste and abnormal learning saw to it that Waymar (and the other children) were all well versed in etiquette and had a firm grasp of the intricacies of court life. In particular she bonded with Waymar, Corenna, and Tristan by sharing her love of literature, music, arts, and story telling. This had the dual purpose of sharing her loves but also ensuring the children grew up knowledgeable and well-rounded nobles.
On the other hand, Lord Corwyn focused on their martial educations. Where Colmar received the lions share, especially in terms of governance and lordship, Waymar was free to pursue and focus solely on knightly pursuits. Lord Corwyn himself, well known across the seven kingdoms as 'The Raven Knight' was both a superior commander and deadly swordsman, teaching the now famous Ser Rolland his art.
One of, if not the first momentous events that shaped Waymar's life was the birth of his younger brother Tristan. Tristan grew up with great difficulty, small, frail, and lacking the ability to speak many considered him ill-fated and treated him with contempt. Waymar however quickly developed a deeply engraved sense of guardianship over Tristan, and the two grew inseperable. Each day Tristan would attend his brothers studies, and each night Waymar would regale his brother with stories of epic heroes, fell deeds, and legendary champions.
The second was the Mooncrest Tourney, where Waymar entered in secret as a Mystery Knight: The Knight of the Wild Wood. During the tupinaire, Waymar encountered his elder brother and defeated him soundly. He went on to fight and overcome the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Malwyn Blackwood. Earning himself a knighthood when his identity was later revealed, for scoring seven strikes in seven seconds, with each strike having the force of three men'. This day was one of the best and worst days in the young Waymar's life: It was the day he was knighted by a living legend and it was the day a rift was formed that would never heal, between the two brothers.
The third was young Tristan's plan to study at Oldtown. In an attempt to separate the ever more violent Colmar and the young Waymar, Tristan convinced his parents to allow him to study at Oldtown and to take with him a small entourage for security. Amongst them was Waymar who, during there travel entered into the Strawberry Hall tourney.
His showing there was impressive if varied, fairing well in the melee, tupinaire, and archery contest, even going so far to claim first in the footrace. Unfortunately an administrative error meant that he was disqualified from the joust, his match timing being changed at short notice and the heralds unable to contact him in time to advise him of such.
This was however the start of his errantry. Taking near a year to return to Heart's Home where he stayed for only handful of weeks before departing again.
Now a man grown, Waymar travels Westeros following the tourney circuit, participating in as many as he can. The knight has earnt himself the moniker ‘The Wayfarer.’ A mocking title meant to demean him and his families fortune as he would walk rather than ride from place to place, lacking the funds to have a second horse and unwilling to tire his treasured destrier “Warlord.” Despite its original purpose, he bears the title with great pride.
Unbeknownst to lords and commonfolk alike, even those within the Halls of Heart’s Home, Waymar has been sending his earnings home to his younger brother who has been named Castellan of Heart’s Home, though for what purpose only the pair could know.
TIMELINE:
10 AC — Lord Corwyn and Lady Ellen marry. 3 BC — Colmar Corbray is born, eldest son of House Corbray and Heir to Hearts Home. 1 BC — Corenna Corbray is born, second eldest of House Corbray. 1 AC — Waymar Corbray is born, second eldest son of House Corbray. 6 AC — Lord Corwyn leads a band of knights against the Root Father & the Sons of the Tree. 7 AC — Trisan Corbray is born. 10 AC — Waymar attends the Maiden Bay tourney and begins his dream of becoming the Greatest Knight in the Realm. 14 AC — The Cavaliers visit Heart’s Home to secure recruits and sponsorship. 18 AC — Colmar Corbray marries XXXXX of House XXXXX at age 21. 19 AC — Mooncrest Tourney is held, Waymar enters as a mystery knight defeating his elder brother Colmar. 19 AC — For excellence with arms and unyielding valour Waymar is knighted by Ser Malwyn Blackwood, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. 20 AC — Ser Waymar rides under Ser Godric Royce against the mountain clan raiders of the Burned Men clan, his first battlefield proper. 20 AC — Corenna Corbray marries Marq Grafton of Gulltown. 21 AC — Tristan leaves for Oldtown, intending to study at the Citadel and stay with their cousins. 21 AC — Waymar enters Strawberry Hall Tourney with mixed results, being suspiciously disqualified from the Lists. 22 AC — Janyce Swyft and Tristan Corbray become betrothed. 22 AC — The first piece of the Winged Knight armour is found, the quest for more pieces begin. 22-25 AC — Waymar travels Westeros largely by foot, earning himself the moniker Waymar the Wayfarer. 25 25 AC — Start Date

FAMILY TREE:

Auxiliary Character -------------------------
Name and House: Tristan Corbray
Age: 18
Cultural Group: Andal
Appearance:
A young man with who looks as young as he is, Tristans black hair is unruly and quite long, resting on his neck and usually covering his ears. Despite his inability to speak, Tristan has a warm and genuine smile. His eyes are a deep thoughtful blue, with freckles adorning his nose and cheeks. His skin pale, indicative of the long hours he has spent inside studying. Despite being called timid he moves and dresses with a quiet confidence and grace that comes from self-awareness. For Tristan, his silence is not a barrier but instead a weapon. Tristan is not the most striking nor handsome man, but he bears a comfortable and approachable appearance that endears him well with others.
Trait: Erudite
Skill(s): Scrutinous, Scholar (e)
Talent(s): Mechanisms, Puzzles, Arts & Music, Cyvasse
Negative Trait(s): Mute
Starting Title(s): The Timid
Starting Location: Starting Event
BIOGRAPHY:
A ferociously keen mind, Tristan is a maester born, with an endless appetite for puzzles and mystery and an eerie ability to calculate. Despite being considered a fool for much of his early life, he has blown away his detractors with his prodigious intelligence. At the age of 15 he entered the Citadel to study, and in just three short years has earned himself no less than 8 links being: black iron, copper, both yellow and red gold, silver, brass, lead, and pewter.
With his father’s recent illness, he has been summoned back to Heart’s Home and named Castellan of the Castle and aide to the Lord. Rumours abound as to how his elder brother has taken this, having shortly afterwards departed on a quest for the Wing Knights legacy.
Supporting Characters -----------------------------
Name and House: Martyn Rivers Archetype: Trader (+4 bonus to Trade)
In his youth Martyn Rivers was a sellsword in the riverlands. He first entered service with House Corbray prior to the battle of Misty Moor. Later, he returned to permanent service after the Riverlands went up in flames. Lord Corwyn took him in first as a trade caravan guard, but in the years since he has reached the lofty heights of seneschal.
Name and House: Maester Dormund Archetype: Scholar (+2 lore searches, +1 treating others)
Maester Dormund has served House Corbray for three generations, serving first serving Lord Corwyn’s Father Corswain and now advising the young Master Tristan. He is one of the few that both knows of, and understands Master Tristan’s sign and short hand conversationally, the others being his mother, sister, and favourite brother.

24, afab. recently started alesse birth control, no other medications.
i've had this for a few years now and had it looked at when i first noticed it, and was told it was just a cherry angioma, but i'm having doubts now and have nowhere to go to get it looked at again. it changes color, it was this color (images in replies) when i first noticed it, it turned pale/my skin color for a while and now it's dark red again. it's .5 cm, never changed in size, and doesn't itch or hurt. doesn't seem to dimple when i pinch it. it's almost perfectly round, and it has a cracked looking texture on the top. it looks nothing like any skin bumps i can find when i google, so i'm at a loss. any opinions at all would be appreciated!
sorry if the photo quality isn't good enough. my phone camera isn't the best and i don't have anything else.

I try to follow an anti inflammatory diet but I'm often tired and can't stand for a long time so I need quick but healthy meals. In the past weeks I used kind of a "building set".
Breakfast (Problem: No appetite in the morning but when I don't eat my brainfog and headache gets worst.)
Shake
1 Brazil nut
1 tsp Ingwer
1 tsp Tumeric
1 hand full of salad
1 hand full of cucumber
1 tablespoon of nuts (almonds or pecan or walnuts)
1 teaspoon flaxseed oil
125 g of berries (blueberries or strawberries or raspberries)
200 g of water (you can use milk or a plant-based substitute too)
30 g Oats
For protein I use 1 serving of pea protein powder (Whey should be avoided, because it could cause inflammation).
Why is that a "construction kit"? You can vary the berries, the nuts and the kind of salad so you can "build" different shakes. You could even swap out the berries for any low in sugar fruits like apples or oranges.
Lunch (Problem: I can't stand up long enough to prepare a complicated meal).
Salad
1 hand full of red bell pepper
1 hand full of carrots
1 hand full of cucumber
1 hand full of kidney beans
1 hand full of salad
4 tablespoons rice (whole grain)
1 tablespoon parsley
1 mintleaf
1 teaspoon sumac
1 tablespoon good olive oil (extra vergine or any omega-3 rich plant oil)
1 tablespoon lemon juice
For extra protein I add different things: chicken, feta or mozzarella.
I try to eat only 3 meals per day and have a 4-5 hour break between them.
Why is that a "construction kit"? Needs no explanation. You can swap out the veggies, the rice (for whole grain pasta or potatoes boiled in their skin) and all the spices.
Dinner (No problem here as my spouse usually likes to cook.)
We usually keep it to the simple formula:
protein (chicken, turkey or fish)
lots of veggies (steamed or cooked in the oven)
small serving of carbs (whole grain rice or pasta, potatoes)
It's not rocket science or something new and fancy, but it reduces the stress and the decisions around cooking and eating a lot which is a great. And in addition it keeps my symptoms at bay. The best thing about it: My headache is down from an really annoying 5-6 to a manageable 3. Maybe it's not the diet but it can't hurt to give our bodies "good fuel" because it's in distress right now.
What do I avoid? White bread and usually wheat, simple carbohydrates, anything fried, candy, sweets, chips, sugar, salted nuts, palm oil, sunflower oil, safflower oil, lard, juices, soft drinks, alkohol, pork (beef only from time to time), convenience products.
Do I count calories? No it's not the time to focus on losing weight.
Do I follow these guidelines every day? No it's not the time for perfectionism. If I manage to eat at least 2 of my meals following these guidelines I'm quite happy and my symptoms won't flare up.
Sources: https://www.ndr.de/ratgebegesundheit/Ernaehrung-bei-Erschoepfung-Was-essen-nach-Corona-Grippe-und-Co,immunsystem122.html
(It's in german; I try to find some sources in english and will add them)

Why do sooo many people get mad at those, whp don`t tan? Does it injure somebody? Honestly, I cannot stand summer heat or bright light. And when I open up about it, I feel like I should`ve shut up, swallow it and give up. But I don`t want migraine. I honestly don`t get it how some people can enjoy 30+ C heat. How ? I accept that most people love sun, but then there are others who don`t. Or won`t. Also I love my pale skin.

The ER performed a urine test and found 95 RBC in urine I believe. And performed an ultrasound on kidneys and did not find anything abnormal. They then discharged her and recommended we see a specialist. The problem is, specialist won’t see us until September. So far we know it’s bad anemia.
What do we do? They haven’t given us any medicine. We bought OTC kids iron. Symptoms continue and as a parent I refuse to wait months for an answer while my kid suffers. Does anyone have any good recommendations? My next step is go to a different ER and explain everything to see if they can help further.

cool toned blush (super pale pink) needs to GO. i don’t think it looks good. it just looks so ashy. doesn’t matter who is wearing it… it always looks like someone smeared chalk on their cheeks. (no matter the skin tone. don’t get it twisted.)

So when the Andals began invading Westeros there were more than humans on the continent. The Andals declared the non human races demons, and began slaughtering them and the non humans fled to the North to safety. Eventually the North was the only region with Non Humans living in it, and the non human races helped the Northerners repel the Andals.
When Aegon and his sister wives came to Westeros, the North was backed by the non human races. Along the years the non humans got Lorships also. The North is the only place to see non humans, as the South is very hostile to them. Many Northern Lords have married non humans, and eventually some people forgot there was a time the non humans weren't apart of the North. Races idea
Snow Elves (Taking this from elder scrolls): a race of elves that can live up to three centuries, are set apart from the other races for their pale skin, pure white hair, and icy blue eyes, they are completely immune to the Cold and rumors have it that they're capable of ice magic. Bran the Builder is believed to have married a Snow Elf. The easiest way to tell apart the Snow Elves are the fact that the females of the race usually have their hair grow to their waist, while the males prefer short hair and clean shaven faces. Ned Stark is rumored to have a snow elf great grandmother. Evidence supports this, as the Starks ears are more pointed than normal humans, Starks are paler than other Northerners, and live longer than normal for most humans, a Stark ancestor apparently living to 180 before dying of old age.
Lizard Men: A race of humanoids that are only found in the neck, this race is completely immune to disease, can breath underwater, and are said to be masters of stealth. Many believe the humans in the Neck have interbred greatly with them, to the point every human in the Neck has a non human ancestor.
Viga-maðr: the deadliest of the non humans, this race greatly resembles bears, towering over humans at 9-11 feet, this race has to have their armor custom made, and though some use weapons, many prefer using their claws and teeth to rip apart enemies. These bears have fur that can be as black as midnight to being pale enough they blend into the snow. Whenever a Viga-maōr goes into a life of crime, the other races are encouraged to contact the Viga-maðr, as one of them could easily slaughter dozens of humans and other races. This race sticks around the Wall, and are known to be the Night Watches greatest ally besides the Starks of Winterfell. Rumors say that Ned Stark sent a Viga-maōr to Kings Landing to protect Elia Martell and her children, and Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch wore torn apart when the Viga-maðr saw Gregor attempt to kill baby Aegon. Elia and her children disappeared that night, and the Northerners refuse to discuss with non-northers what happened to them, Ned and Robert Baratheon having a huge fight over it that lasted until the Greyjoy Rebellion, where Robert declared the hunt for Martell and her children over. A Viga-maōr rules over the dreadfort, his ancestor having slaughtered the last Bolton centuries ago, and was rewarded the fort for his loyalty, and the Bolton Lordship was passed down to his descendants, The Snow-Paw family being the most respected and feared in the North, known to have extremely loyalty to the Starks
dwarves (taken from the lords of the rings and the hobbit) they would reside inside The Northern mountains

In the film-books, it talks about how the Fremen cultivated the plant culture on Arrakis, and many of the animals are similar to those on Earth. Did all of these planets spontaneously evolve intelligent life, or was it a star wars type situation where humans, in some unspecified way, colonized different planets and evolved over time to look different from their planet’s conditions (Harrkonen having pale skin, fremen having hooked noses and tan skin, etc.)?

There's a saying in the horror genre, they always say it's all in your head or it's all a dream, but my recent experience was neither of those, it was very real, and almost cost me my life, I used to be a night person, staying up from 12am to 3am, and I would take walks on occasion, but never again after what happened a couple weeks ago.
So one night, I decided to go for a walk during 12am to clear my mind over a fight I had with one of my ex friends, I walked down the small suburb near my town, I knew the town like the back of my hand, once I got to the park, I saw something that wasn't there before, a tall 18ft statue with red hair, big pupils and barely visible irises, a wide grin, and the statue had it's hand raised, like it's welcoming the guests of the park, I walked past the statue and I swear, in the corner of my eye, I could see it staring directly at me, but when I turned to look, it looked back ahead, I was getting weirded out already, so I decided to head back home.
I decided to take the long way home, near the grocery store and up the hillside road, once I reached the top of the hill, I started hearing some sort of footsteps, booming footsteps, like a giant or big creature, I shrugged it off to be my mind playing tricks on me, but oh boy... It wasn't my mind, once the footsteps got closer, I groaned in annoyance and turned around, expecting to see nothing or a crazy person, but it was neither of those, it was the statue, slumped down to my level, staring directly at me, I slowly backed away, scared shitless, then what happened next made my skin completely pale, it's mouth opened, still maintaining that smile, and I saw teeth... Razor sharp teeth, at least 3 rows of it, this thing wasn't a living statue... It was a legit monster, it suddenly screeched at me and I knew I had to start running, so that's what I did.
I could hear the booming footsteps of the creature growing closer and closer, I was scared for my entire life, running as fast as my legs could take me, suddenly I was pushed by the creature, which led to my arm getting scraped against the pavement, I groaned in pain and held my arm tightly, I looked up at the towering monster, as it planned to eat me alive, but before it could, my arm hit a rock that was beside me, with no time to lose, I grabbed the rock and yelled at the monster. "Asta La Vesta bitch!" I threw the rock at the monster, hitting it square in the face, it roared in pain and fell back, now's my chance, I ran back to my house with all the energy in my body remaining, once I entered my house, I locked every entrance of the house so the monster wouldn't break in.
I slumped onto the couch, out of breath, tired, and thirsty, I had time to think to myself. "What the hell was that thing, why did it attack me?!" I said to myself, I looked at my now bleeding arm from the pavement scraping, I sighed, got up, and headed to the bathroom, quickly though because I heard the creature's booming footsteps, once I got done patching myself up, I went to the kitchen to get a can of diet coke, once I did, I heard thumping on the window, I was scared to look, but a sudden bang made me, trembling, I turned to the window, and of course, the monster was there, still maintaining that sinister smile, it simply waved at me, then walked off into the woods, I quickly closed the curtains and hid in my bedroom, not coming out till daytime.
Once the sun beamed through my certain, I felt a little relieved, then took a 30 minute nap, once I woke up, I had a news report notification, my instinct was to ignore it, but the contents of the news report made me stop myself, the image was the monster, laying on it's belly, blood on it's skin, the article headline read "Statue Of Park Found Bleeding And Laying Behind The Grocery Store." After I read the whole article, I heard a knock on the door, hesitant, I went to check it out, I noticed a piece of paper near the door, I assumed it slid it underneath the door, still hesitant, I picked it up and read what was on it, it only said 4 words... "Bow To The Silencer..."
I will never be a night person ever again...

So my father used to own a cabin. In fact he used to own a lot of different properties. Which I suppose is just a roundabout way of saying that we grew up with money. Where things get a bit complicated is how he actually made that money.
The line that he constantly fed us was that he was an accountant running his own firm in an office in the city. Long hours, lots of business trips. We never saw him much. And whenever we did, he always seemed tired, his eyes perpetually bloodshot, as if he were always trying to force them to stay open.
He was sent off to prison right after I’d finished my first year of college.
The sentence? Fifteen years, for washing hundreds of millions of dollars for numerous cartels. Two weeks after he’d been booked, my mother committed suicide. As it turns out, she’d been helping him out through the entire thing and was facing some time herself. I guess she didn’t want to deal with all that and took the drastic way out.
A few months later, the government had seized pretty much all his property.
All of it, except for that cabin in the woods.
It took a long time for me to feel normal again. But eventually I managed it. Went back to school and graduated with a good enough GPA which allowed me to snag some shitty office job a few months later. But it was enough to pay the bills.
Fast forward about another year and I’ve basically scrubbed that entire sequence of events out of my brain. It took a little bit of therapy, a lot of psychedelics, but I finally did it, to the point where I was comfortable enough to go back to that cabin, the one place where I’d see my father for more than a few weeks at a time during our summer trips.
I decided to take along three of my friends from Uni - Jack, Pedro, Randy.
We drove down there at the beginning of May. The road leading to the cabin hadn’t been maintained at all and as a result, it had become borderline undrivable. I decided to save my vehicle the stress and parked in a nearby lot, leaving us about a one-and-a-half-mile trek through the woods, which really wasn’t so bad.
Our time in the cabin was pretty much spent getting drunk and stoned, and by the third night we had completely run out of food.
We decided to take the thirty minute walk over to the nearest rest stop, where I knew that there was a 24/7 diner. So we go there, eat our meals, and on the way back we notice a burning smell in the woods, as if there was a bonfire raging about nearby.
Of course that was a bit strange given that it was around 2AM. But we didn’t think too much of it at the time and we kept walking.
It was only when the smell continued to grow stronger as we got closer to the cabin that we understood something was very wrong. Soon it had become suffocating, and we could see the night sky tinged with orange in the near distance.
I felt my heart drop into my stomach and immediately I was sprinting, my worst fear realized as I reached the clearing where the cabin was located.
Completely up in flames, plumes of dark smoke blending in with the night.
It was a mix of different emotions that hit me all at once, the combination of them creating a sense of dread so deep I hadn’t thought it possible.
After reeling myself in, I called 9-1-1, with the operator telling me that the fire department would be on their way but wouldn’t be able to reach us for at least thirty minutes. The four of us walked away from the cabin in silence, getting far enough so that the smoke was no longer scratching at our throats.
Around ten minutes later, we noticed that the orange tinge in the sky had suddenly disappeared. And I mean suddenly. Like, gone in a single blink. I thought I might’ve been hallucinating, but it was clear from their expressions that my friends were seeing something similar.
Cautiously, we started making our way back towards the cabin, noticing that the smoke was no longer heavy in the air, having cleared up considerably. Once we reached the clearing, it had disappeared altogether.
I looked ahead, my brain working overtime to comprehend the sight before me. The cabin was no longer on fire. Burnt to a crisp, sure. But the raging, overwhelming flames that had been consuming it just minutes prior had somehow completely fizzled out.
The four of us looked between each other, as if to confirm we were all still seeing the same thing.
Using the flashlight on my phone to survey the damage, I found pretty much what I’d expected. Complete destruction. Absolutely zero hope of recovering anything.
I started taking some deep breaths, trying to calm myself down when I heard Pedro yelling out from the other side.
“Guys… where the fuck did this thing come from?”
We all walked over to him. Nestled in the debris was the corpse of… something. A monstrosity.
It was about the size of a bear, with the sections of its body that weren’t burnt showing pale, clammy skin with deep cuts etched throughout it, in what looked to be some kind of crude pattern. Its head had been smashed in, leaving nothing but an abnormally wide bottom jaw which was still baring long, black teeth. It had an uncountable number of long, thick arms that it was using to hold something that resembled a human infant, one that appeared to be completely unscathed, devoid of any burn marks. The longer I stared at it, the more that I was convinced I could see it breathing.
It was a bizarre enough sight to put us into a near-trance. What eventually snapped us out of it was the chanting.
It was barely noticeable at first, slowly escalating in pitch until it was clear that there were several human voices shouting in unison. Their tones were animalistic, their words strung together with just the bare beginnings of a rhythm. It sounded like they were speaking English, though I could hardly make out anything they were saying.
The strangest part though, was how quickly it was getting closer to us. Definitely not a walking pace. It was more like a sprint.
The four of us shared a quick glance between each other and immediately there was an understanding.
We ran like bats out of hell, tripping over branches, our own feet.
But eventually we reached my car, all of us scrambling to pile into it. As I was fumbling for my keys, the chanting had become deafening, to a point that hardly made sense. It sounded as if there were speakers lined up in a circle around us, all blasting that horrible noise.
And the second that I had put the keys into the ignition, things went silent. I found myself holding my breath as I looked up, my eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness until what I was seeing was unmistakable. Several figures standing completely still at the edge of the woods. All human-shaped but far too large to be people.
All the air being held in my lungs flooded out with one big exhale and I slammed the vehicle into drive and took a sharp turn before speeding the hell out of there, refusing to look in the rearview until we had made it into the highway.
I drove until I had reached the rest stop, which was now hosting an absurd number of police cars. I parked, got out, and approached one of the cops, asking if they were here because of the fire.
The cop shook his head. “Fire? No. Has there been a fire?”
I explained the situation with the cabin to him, deciding to leave out the creature and the chanting for the time being.
The cop nodded slowly, his expression remaining largely the same throughout.
“Alright,” he said. “We’ll look into it. And then give you an update in the morning. For tonight, just get a hotel or something.”
We exchanged numbers and I thanked him. As I began to walk away, he called out to me.
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
I turned back around.
“Yeah,” I said. “Sure.”
“Do you happen to be (my dad’s name)’s son?”
For a while I just stared at him. Eventually I nodded.
“Yeah,” he said. “I thought I recognized you.”
“I don’t understand,” I told him. “I’ve never seen you before.”
The cop took a deep breath before taking a quick look around. “Come here,” he said. “Come close.”
Tentatively, I did so.
“I can’t tell you everything. I don’t even know everything. But I think you should have the right to know the truth about your father. All of the stuff that’s happened here tonight, all of the shit that you’ve seen… it has something to do with him.
He took another look around before continuing. “Cartels, right? Was that the story they told you? It’s not so creative. But I guess it doesn’t have to be creative to be believable. Cause the shit that he was actually mixed up in… you would not believe unless you’ve seen it for yourself.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked.
“Look, I have your number. I’ll be in touch tomorrow morning. This is something I’m curious about as well. Maybe you can give me some answers, point me in the right directions. But not here. So get out of here before people start noticing you. And stay safe.”
I didn’t feel like staying in a hotel that night, so I drove back into the city, dropping everybody off before arriving back at my own apartment.
Of course I couldn’t sleep that night, my eyes wired open into the morning as I waited for the officer to call. He still hadn’t by the time that noon rolled around and so I tried calling him instead.
No answer.
Eventually I did receive a call from the police, telling me that my father’s cabin had burned down and that it was due to a forest fire.
I told them that wasn’t possible because there had been no forest fire and that I suspected foul play and wanted it to be investigated.
“It’s already been investigated,” are the exact words that the officer told me. “Don’t worry about it. Just get in touch with insurance. Go over your options.”
And before I could say anything else, he had hung up on me.
It was a mixture of anger and curiosity that compelled me to drive back down there. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t for the road leading towards the rest stop to be blocked altogether. There were two cop cars guarding the barrier, with a single officer signalling any vehicles approaching to turn around.
I pulled over to the side of the road and after some careful deliberation, I decided to get out and approach him and ask what was going on. Just to see what he might say.
When I finished the question, he stared at me for a long time. Uncomfortably long.
“Emergency construction,” is what he eventually told me.
After that encounter, I pretty much dropped trying to figure things out.
Some weird things have started happening to me since. Every night, I swear I can hear a baby crying in the apartment across from mine. The apartment that I thought had been occupied by a pair of college kids who definitely do not have children.
That cop that was supposed to call me finally did, a few nights ago. When I answered, I was met with dead silence on the other end. Nearly thirty seconds of it until the line clicked dead.
There’s an abandoned house sitting across the street from my apartment building, one that’s supposedly been there for years because the development of the store meant to take its place keeps getting delayed.
Somebody has started staring at me through its second-floor window. Whenever I catch them doing it, they’re quick to close the blinds, so I can never catch any details. But I know that the moment I turn away from it, their eyes are back on me.
I can’t confirm that any of these things are related. Whether it has anything to do with my father.
I just know that I don’t want to deal with it and that I want it to end.

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Synopsis:
Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.
Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.
Chapter 239: Standing Start
A wine bottle rolled against the side of my boot.
Amidst a gallery of stunned faces and open mouths, it was easily the second most lively thing here.
The first was a clockwork doll clutching at her stomach in pain.
“Ahahahha~ ahahaha~ ahah … uck … ack … ughh … ahahaha~”
I pursed my lips.
Still, I said nothing.
For one thing, this was precisely what happened when one ate the mouldy cinnamon rolls combined with any grass growing by the side of the road. If Apple refused to eat something, then so should she.
But for another–
“What … What is this … ?”
It was because the first response was reserved for the baroness.
Her words came out in a quivering tone, matching the disbelief upon her face.
Frankly, she had to do better than that.
Only the wine from the bottle I nudged away dribbled into the soil. And also the line of drool from a comatose farmer. But I didn’t want to think about that.
Still, it was an excellent benchmark. Until her tears could properly overpower the sour aroma from the Château de Riaré Hensoise, I would deem her bawling to be incomplete.
She had a long way to go.
“How … How are you still …” she began, slowly rising from her seat. “This … This is impossible–”
I offered a tidy smile alongside a flick of my hair, relishing in the moonlight adorning my figure.
“I agree. It shouldn’t be possible. But I assure you, my skin is 100% natural.”
“E-Excuse me … ?”
“No magical enchantments. No unicorn elixirs. No witchly glamors. Just a healthy sleep schedule of however many hours I desire and a diet of fresh strawberry shortcakes.”
The baroness mouthed silently at my secrets being revealed.
A strange way of offering her gratitude. Other princesses hounded my door for this knowledge. Given her pale, blotchy skin and lips as dry as a pond in a desert, she should be pleading for more.
Instead, she pointed at the fallen drunk beside us.
“This … This shouldn’t be possible … no, wait … the clockwork doll … did she–”
She suddenly snapped towards Coppelia, her eyes widening.
“Uuh … ahaha … ugh, it hurts ... ahaha … it hurts so much … ahaha … my tummy … aha … oh no … I’m … I’m seeing daisies … aha … I … ugh … I think I need help …”
Coppelia hugged her stomach, writhing like a freshly hatched caterpillar. Her eyes darkened as hiccups of laughter assailed her defeated form.
The baroness pursed her lips.
Then, she turned to Renise instead.
“Did you–”
“A-Amazing! … I … I have no idea what you did … but it wasn’t just wonderful … it was beautiful! The colours! The warmth! It was like a rainbow come to life!”
With a smile worthy of any attendant, the maid brought her hands together in polite applause. Naturally, to be praised for my brushwork was nothing new to me. Nor was the sight of stars shining in her eyes with greater brightness than any in the night sky.
Why, that even came whenever I left my bedroom.
“You … how did … how did you defeat him … ?”
The strands of the baroness’s golden hair began to frizzle as she turned towards me. All I saw were her tonsils. Bright red and healthy. She should be pleased.
“This was … this was no common man … do you know who he is … ?”
Without offering a chance to ignore her, she stamped a foot, pointing at the fallen drunk with maddened jabs. The man offered no defence, now as spent and drained as the bottle beside him.
I raised a brow.
“Indeed, I do. He’s a farmer who made poor life choices. And between leaving his farm and offering his pitchfork to an overly ambitious baroness, the greater was you. My congratulations on being the superior mistake. I acknowledge your triumph.”
Bwam.
The baroness promptly slapped her palms down on the table.
“This man … is Willem of Hagel,” she said, her teeth gritted together. “A man desperate and cursed.”
“Yes, well, to be a peasant is a dire thing. But it could be worse. At least he isn’t nobility.”
A mouth further widened before me.
Indeed, this was a terrible time to realise her affliction. But I was no famed angel of healing for nothing. There was a cure for ambition. And it involved copious amounts of tears.
I was still waiting.
“There is no world in which you should have been able to defeat him … not if half the tales about him prove true … he is a famed opponent … all the while you are … you are …”
Suddenly, her eyes left my face for the very first time.
No longer feeling that my cheeks were in danger of being poked, she swept her eyes upon my person, as though hoping to find some blemish to signify I was as false as a field of corn.
She stopped at the sword by my side.
And also–
“A copper ring,” she said softly.
Suddenly, my 29th house of cards I was subtly constructing collapsed.
… T-The ring!
The blot on my finger! The insidious badge of shame! The symbol of the Adventurer’s Guild!
Why, I’d taken it for granted that my masterful disguise was impervious! But this was no ordinary noblewoman I was seated across!
This … This was one I’d previously sat across before!
I’d made a terrible mistake!
I was mesmerising! A beautiful princess as charming as I was modest!
There was utterly no scenario in which I’d be forgotten!
I … I should have removed the copper ring!
“O-Oho … ohoho … w-what copper ring?” I said, my hands vanishing below the table at a speed con artists could only nod at. “Ah, do you refer to the ruby inlaid ring I often carry on my hand? The one which changes colour depending on the longitude and latitude? In that case, you may very well have briefly spied something which resembled a copper hue. But it is in fact a thing of unparalleled beauty and craftsmanship. Not a disgraceful copper ring.”
The baroness slowly looked up at me, her eyes blinking.
“No. I wasn’t mistaken. I … I recognise that ring. It is a copper ring, the same size and shape as those worn by … adventurers.”
My mouth widened in horror.
At once, I immediately sought a plant pot or a heavy book. Something to immediately erase the past few seconds of her memory.
Why … if she knew my secret, then the shame would haunt me all the way until I’d found something weighing at least equivalent to a standard hardback!
“I see,” she mumbled, as much to herself as me. “I understand now …”
The baroness removed her palms from the table.
She stood up straight, a hard expression upon her face. One which calculated with each passing moment the optimal way to exploit this devastating information.
Then, she took in a deep breath–just as I began assembling the playing cards into a thick pile.
“… it must be a legendary artifact.”
As I began eyeing her temple … I blinked in non-understanding.
“Excuse me?”
She nodded, her frown harsh enough to permanently crease her skin.
“To wear such a plain, ugly and shameful ring … one which utterly demeans your history, your worth and your pride, destroying any semblance of dignity you possess–”
My hand went to my stomach, struck by as much pain as Coppelia had experienced in a single moment.
“–indeed, to wear a ring so easily mistaken as one belonging to adventurers, the vermin of the world … it must be a truly terrifying artifact.”
I blinked.
And then–
“Ohhho … ohoohho! You … You see the truth of it!”
The baroness squeezed her fists by her side.
“I knew it.”
I nodded, my bangs bouncing against my forehead.
“I-Indeed … ! This ring I carry on me … it is a masterful item of supreme quality, passed down along generations of my family! Why, its appearance matching those of rings worn by adventurers is no coincidence! Theirs are based on this very design! Although they have since tarnished it, it was forged back in the first days of the kingdom when copper was greater than gold! Poured within it is knowledge now lost to time! A power beyond compare, called upon from the depths of the Royal Vault!”
The baroness sucked in a hateful breath.
“Then that explains it,” she said with bitterness ringing throughout her voice. “You were able to defeat such a powerful adversary through the use of your family’s ancient heirlooms.”
“Indeed, this powerful ring with a rare ability I cannot disclose defeated a terrifying farmer! Therefore, there’s no need for you to relay any suggestion that I’m anything but a princess, as far removed from the Adventurer’s Guild as hygiene is to their members!”
The baroness gave no response.
A respite which lasted far too short.
“... I see, then it means the plan continues. Different, yes. But I’ll not be deterred.”
She smiled, the familiar sight of aristocratic opportunism mixed with an utter denial of facts shining within her grey eyes.
I could only react with horror.
“Plan?” I replied, convinced she was well and truly several sandwiches short of a picnic. “Do you mean the plan currently lying in a fallen heap beside us? Did you not just say I defeated your farmer? Your only plan now is to decide which part of the ground you wish to offer your forehead to.”
The baroness shook her head with renewed confidence.
“I think not. To defeat Willem of Hagel, you must have expended every effort you had available. Not a crumb of power could be spared, for to underestimate him would have resulted in your certain loss. Meaning …”
Without hesitation, she gave a multipurpose wave of her hand.
“... You’ve nothing left but a sword you cannot wield, and two retainers against all of mine. One of whom is incapacitated. The other a maid.”
She continued to keep her hand raised. Her simple call to arms.
It took several moments before she cared to even look around her.
A sad thing.
If she had, she would have realised the curiosity of her hoodlums was less than their prudence.
She would have noticed the eyes without loyalty, seeing only the fallen figure of a drunk they’d been led to believe was more than a farmer now watering the ground with his drool.
And she would have noticed the state of her dress, as dishevelled as her ambitions as those she relied upon slinked away in search of newer gutters to inhabit, following instincts she could learn as the last of their feet shuffled into the darkness.
The baroness paled.
It was far too early for that. She had no idea Apple was currently resting in her tavern, and wouldn’t be helping her haul all of the goods which needed delivering to a place less damp than here.
But I could sooth her forthcoming backache with a smile, at least for the assistance already provided.
“You have my gratitude,” I said, brushing a speck of … countryside from my lap. “For so long as the nobility continues to concoct slapdash schemes with no hope of success, the kingdom can continue to assign blame on you when all else goes wrong. When the mobs come calling and heads start rolling, it ensures a steady queue of necks can be offered before ours are reached. That is why the nobility continues to exist, you see, despite the ceaseless treason. So allow me to offer a word of advice when next you wish to survive in a position of responsibility. When fleeing, the best defence isn’t to run faster–it’s to trip the person beside you. And this means better hiring practices.”
I glanced pointedly around me.
All this empty space and not even a single eyepatched second-in-command to use as a distraction? An amateur mistake. One the baroness now realised as her mouth opened wordlessly, the realisation of her solitude only now dawning upon her.
Yet all it invited was a newly wrought defiance.
“I do not mean to flee,” she said, her fists tightly clenched. “I am Arisa Sandholt. And even should I be captured here, you would not be afforded a night’s rest. I am not alone. Whether tonight or tomorrow, this kingdom will fall. I am not alone in planning its demise.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Oh, please. Planning my kingdom’s demise is what everyone does.”
“What?”
“If it’s not being actively planned, it’s because someone’s in the middle of planning how to formulate a plan. And then once they’ve finished planning, they wonder why their plan didn’t work as planned. This is not a cause for concern. It’s a sign the world is still spinning the correct direction.”
The baroness feigned a dignified silence.
It was far too late, of course. By default, nobility had no dignity.
Still, I accepted the effort, and filled the silence with a tidy clap of my hands.
“Now, since you’ve no intention of fleeing, you can be useful instead. I’ll require a full inventory of your stock. I intend to requisition every single item you have in your possession. Every grain. Every crown. And every odd piece of tableware, carpet, candleholder and painting you might have.”
I pointed at the barn. A tragic thing to requisition. But if I was fortunate, it’d grow lacquered tiles and bay windows in the short steps between here and there.
Suddenly, the baroness’s eyes widened. The needless defiance dropped alarmingly from her face.
“Wait … what do you mean by that?”
I paused for a moment, puzzled by her reaction.
This was hardly the complicated part.
“I mean exactly what I mean. This should come as no surprise. I will be emptying every corner of the property you’ve misappropriated, including whatever manner of tunnels you’ve carved for your use. Rest assured, I’ll be employing the talents of my retainers extensively. With or without your cooperation, every single inch of your abode will be inspected by myself for the Royal Treasury’s benefit.”
She blinked between Renise and Coppelia. Although one was dressed as a maid and the other now appeared to be napping on the ground, their skills when it came to matters of unearthing valuables in my kingdom’s underbelly was not one I doubted.
Nor, from the way the baroness gulped, did she.
“I can do it,” she said suddenly.
I looked at her in confusion, uncertain what ploy this was.
“... Excuse me? Do what?”
“The items of value. I can bring them out. There’s no need to personally see to such a thing yourself.”
“While I’m in full agreement, I can hardly trust your reliability in this manner. And besides, I’ll hardly be playing the mule. I shall be supervising while closely assessing every item.”
Once more, the tonsils came out.
An appalling disregard of decorum. There was only one time that nobility was permitted to look so horrified in my presence. And that’s if they were copying my own after I discovered a list of marriage suitors posing as a napkin beneath the dessert spoon again.
“E-Even so … as the one who wronged you, I insist on not troubling a princess any further. If you give me a few moments, I can acquire the most important valuables for you in a fraction of the time you’d spend on finding them.”
“A few moments to hide them, you mean. No, I’m afraid that anything you wish to stuff beneath a floorboard will need to be appropriately examined first.”
I leaned away in mild alarm as a bead of sweat ran down the baroness’s face.
A moment later–
She finally did what only someone in her position could.
Adhering to the instincts of all nobility, she swept up her dress and suddenly dashed away.
Except it wasn’t towards the dark forest, to be lost amidst the shadows and the jaws of whatever awaited her there. It was back towards the barn.
I watched as she stumbled several times before even reaching the steps.
“... A desperate sight, no?” I said, with a sad shake of my head. “To throw away all semblance of the image she’d hoped to craft. Now she flees like a frightened towngirl. She should know that escape is now impossible.”
Beside me, Renise let out a hum.
Far from chasing after the baroness, she collected the pack of cards I’d assembled for memory wiping purposes. She began to build a house of cards.
I looked at her in puzzlement. She gave a strangely pained smile in reply.
“I believe we can offer her a few moments.”
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"I'm so tired. I have headaches almost all the time, fatigue, and my flare ups [eczema] are so hard to deal with. I need help. My depression is getting worse. I wish it was easy to end my life. I know my family will be a bit sad about it, but they will be relieved. I also know my husband will get over it once he finds another one. He'll probably never mention me again. My problem is I'm so scared of the pain. I'm worried."
Nothing I say can describe the pain I feel whenever I read this, and that pales in comparison with what you were going through. I'm so sorry you felt that way, and I'm so sorry I let you down, I'm sorry I didn't hug you and squeeze you, I'm sorry I disrespected you and us.
It's been two years, and I'm still trying to heal from your loss. I'm still trying to accept that there will never be anyone as cool, as smart, as strong, as captivating as you. I'm still trying to find joy or meaning in anything I do. Hell, if you clone yourself and kept the exact same memories, I would still want you. There's no "another one" to find, because there's only one you. In two years, I haven't been able to be in a relationship with anyone. You might be the one who moved on from me a long time ago. You deserve all the contentedness, love and serenity your fluttering 90-bpm-ass-resting-heart-rate heart can handle. I'm sorry this post-script isn't as eloquent and poetic as you'd expect from me.
You've ruined all women for me. I love you, eternally
“للأبد؟
ـ ماذا؟
ـ ستظل تحبني للأبد؟
ـ حتى تحترق النجوم وحتى تفنى العوالم حتى تتصادم الكواكب، وتذبل الشموس وحتى ينطفئ القمر، وتجف البِحار والأنهار
حتى أشيخ فتتآكل ذكرياتي حتى يعجز لساني عن لفظ اسمك حتى ينبض قلبي للمرة الأخيرة
فقط عند ذلك ربما أتوقف.. ربما...”

Hiya, I'm looking for a new foundation that's suitable for dry, acne-prone skin. I have a very pale complexion which I find hard to find as well. I currently use Nars Light Reflecting but this breaks me out terribly, any suggestions would be great!!
No budget as well.
Thank you ✨

Jon Wylde, PC

Reddit Account: death-ace
Discord Tag: shellshock3d
Name and House: Jon Wylde, House Wylde
Age: 55
Cultural Group: Stormlander
Appearance: Jon is an older man whose years haven't quite caught up to him yet. He is tall and broad with thick muscled arms and wide shoulders. His hair is black mixed with white and he keeps it well maintained, if long. He has a large mustache and mutton chops. His eyes are blue gray and constantly narrowed under heavy brows.
Trait: Inspiring
Skill(s): Tactician (E), Andal Knight, Swords, Malicious
Talent(s): Training hounds, Woodcarving, Hunting
Negative Trait(s): N/A
Starting Title(s): Steward of the Stormlands, Lord of Rain House
Starting Location: Opening event
Alternate Characters: if I try to alt this iteration someone shoot me
30 BC: Jon is born as the first son of the lord and lady of Rain House.
25 BC: Jon's younger brother Ormund is born.
19 BC: Jon begins squiring for Argilac Durrandon, the Storm King and is knighted by him at a future date.
12 BC: Jon's father makes a match for him with Cassandra Tarth to strengthen House Wylde's alliance with House Tarth. It was a political match but love grew from it quickly.
12 BC: Jon and Cassandra's first son Harlan is born.
10 BC: Tristan is born to Jon and Cassandra.
7 BC: Aelinor is born to Jon and Cassandra.
2 BC:Jon's son Lyonel is born. At the same time Aegon's conquest of the Stormlands begins. Jon's father dies during the Last Storm while Jon is leading troops elsewhere. Jon is one of the first people to surrender to the Targaryens after Argilac Durrandon falls in battle.
1 AC: Jon's daughter Coryanne is born. Jon also begins to kindle a friendship with his new lord paramount, Orys Baratheon.
7 AC: King Aegon the Conqueror dies. Orys Baratheon is pronounced regent of the seven kingdoms. Due to Jon's loyalty and his friendship with Orys, he's asked to be steward of the Stormlands in Orys's stead. Jon readily accepts. In the same year, Jon's first grandchild Ravella is born.
13 AC: Jon sends his son Harlan and his family to Dorne during the war in the Stepstones to act as his diplomatic envoy. The war in the Stepstones is a success and the Stormlands gains some of the islands under Tarth and Estermont.
15 AC: Jon loses his son Harlan and his brother Ormund in the Kingswood massacre. He declares the entire year a year of mourning in the Stormlands, no tournaments or parties are to be held.
17 AC: Assassins disguised as bandits attempt to kill Jon Wylde on the road. He and his guards slaughter them all instead. No one ever found out who hired the assassins.
20 AC: Another assassination attempt that failed. The assassin was tortured until he admitted he was hired by members of a noble house in the Stormlands. Jon Wylde has the second and third sons of that house killed in a public hanging at Storm’s End.
23 AC: Another assassin makes an attempt on Jon Wylde’s life and poisons his supper. There is a mix up and Jon Wylde’s wife, Cassandra Tarth, is killed instead. This assassin was the only one who was never found.
25 AC: Current day. Jon Wylde is traveling to King’s Landing for the festivities and has encouraged all lords and ladies of the Stormlands to join him.
House Wylde

Ravella Wylde, AC

Name and House: Ravella Wylde, House Wylde
Age: 18
Cultural Group: Stormlander
Appearance: A young woman, now grown, Ravella has the height of her grandfather standing at an impressive 5' and 9''. She has an athletic build after years of riding horses and hawking in the rain wood. Her skin is pale and smooth with no blemishes. Shiny black hair frames her face, always pulled back in a long braid. Her eyes are amber brown in color and framed by long lashes. She tends to wear more simple gowns but wont hesitate to show off if the occasion calls for it.
Trait: Ruthless
Skill(s): Devious (E), Animal Taming
Talent(s): Dancing, Hawking, Horse Riding
Negative Trait(s): N/A
Starting Title(s): Heiress of Rain House
Starting Location: Opening event
Alternate Characters: if I try to alt this iteration someone shoot me
7 AC: Ravella is born to two loving parents! Her grandfather becomes steward of the Stormlands.
13 AC: Ravella moves to Sunspear with her mother and father for a short while. She makes friends with Nymia Martell while she's there.
14 AC: Late in the year Ravella and her family move back to the Stormlands.
15 AC: Ravella is still in Rain House when news comes of her father's death in the Kingswood massacre. As an 8 year old it takes her a while to process what it means for her father to be dead.
16 AC: Ravella's mother becomes more distant and stops taking care of her, spending most of her day locked in her room in bed. Her grandmother takes over her care.
19 AC: Ravella's father begins grooming her to take over as his heir one day. She begins learning all sorts of things from her maester, from numbers and writing to history and geography.
23 AC: Ravella's heart breaks once more when her grandmother is killed. She takes it just as hard as her grandfather but neither one of them shows it.
24 AC: She begins sneaking off into the rain wood more and more often to get away from the pressure of her duties.
25 AC: She goes to King's Landing to attend the Princes birthday celebrations.

NPCs

Tristan Wylde Warrior (Swords)

• Jon's oldest living son.

Lyonel Wylde Castellan

• Jon's youngest son.

Coryanne Wylde Medic

• Jon's youngest daughter.

I just noticed my vagina is basically bulging out ?!?!
Background - I’ve been having pain during and after sex / lots of low back pain.
I noticed my vagina is basically bulging out. White/pale skin is quite literally popping out of my vagina . It’s not painful to touch. No other symptoms. I’m going to try and get checked out asap since this is NOT what it normally looks like. Has anyone had this? Or any ideas what it could be?