Train groping non-consensual

For background context: My best friend of 5 years who I trusted everything with has been dating a guy for 3 years. It’s her second serious relationship and she sees herself marrying him and also he’s the only guy who has been able to satisfy her sexually. He’s a bum who has “a wife” but apparently his “wife is psychotic” so they have to hide their relationship.
We had a party, I got super drunk and so did he. I went to go pee and after I wash my hands and shut the lights of the bathroom to leave… I open the door and her boyfriend IS RIGHT in front of me. He then continues to lead me back into the DARK bathroom. Then proceeds to lock the door. And grope me and put his hands under my shirt touching my back. Saying how he always thought I was so hot. But with my personality when I get uncomfortable I always try to make it light. I then tell him “uhh let’s go back to everyone in the living room I want to drink” but he doesn’t stop. So I just say well I want to go drink and leave. And never speak of it ever again. I wake up the next morning remembering everything… he texts me at 7am and asks me to call him when I wake up and the FIRST thing he says is “what do you remember about last night” I lie and say I blacked out just seeing if he admits to what he did. He says he doesn’t remember anything.. and I don’t know why I didn’t call him out on it and to this day I regret not calling him out.
Fast forward 6 months later, I distance myself from him and my best friend bc I KNOW that my friend wouldn’t believe me I just knew how in love she was. I just took myself out of the picture. Unfortunately a mutual friend of ours gets drunk and tells my best friend the reason I’ve been distancing myself. And she finds out.
To put this story to a close — She didn’t believe me. She thinks I came on to him and thinks that “if he really groped me I would have yelled or screamed” but the fact that I “let it happen” is why it doesn’t make sense to her. The moment she told me “there’s no way he would come on to you because we have an amazing sex life” and proceeded to tell me that moving forward SHE wouldn’t feel comfortable if her boyfriend and I were alone together” … I lost all hope for our friendship.
In that exact moment I knew where she stood and I decided to walk away from that friendship. She’s upset that I didn’t want to hash it out. But there’s nothing to hash out. She’s in love with him and that’s that.
Also Two of my sober friends were witnesses to him pushing himself into the bathroom I was in but she still didn’t believe.
Anyways if you made it this far thank you for listening. This actually happened two years ago. I’m in a lot better head space now. The reason I wanted to share my story is one just for the release but the other is because I recently saw a Reddit post where a woman talked about getting sexually assaulted on a train and she froze and it took her a moment to process what happened and she regrets not reacting.. and it just made me feel like I wasn’t alone in how I reacted. I was reading other peoples replies and they also said that it’s normal to freeze up and be confused when that happens. And just by reading comments I felt this overwhelming support idk it’s weird to even describe like wow so it’s not just me idk so I just wanted to say my peace.
It’s honestly so unfortunate that girl’s siding with their manipulative partners over their friends is so commonplace. Smh.

I tried to post this in japan but automod took it down and the mods haven’t gotten back to me yet. So, this is probably the more appropriate subreddit. For clarification, this happened yesterday night.
I (26F) am traveling with my family in Japan. We were on a very crowded subway train cart on the 丸ノ内線 (Marunouchi Line) in Tokyo around 21:30. This is my third time in Japan and l've taken the subway and public transport many times, but this was a first.
I'm still sort of processing it, but I didn't quite realize what happened until I got off the subway cart. I just don't know if this is common, and l've never been groped before so l didn't realize what was happening until my brain was like wait, that was someone's hand/fingers groping the back of my thigh/butt on the cart....
Just, uh, yeahh. Maybe it's just Tokyo? It's my first time in this city and I have always been in the Kansai region during my previous visits. Never ever have I had issues there.
I still feel it (and a little disgusted/shocked) and I want to know if anyone else has experienced something like this as some form of "I'm not crazy to have experienced this in 2024."
EDIT: Of course being 外人 doesn’t make any difference, I just didn’t know what to do once I fully processed what had happened.

Damn ngl… even though my sexual assault happened a year ago, I still see how that shit affects me.
I used to be okay with people touching my shoulders or my back or hug me but now it makes me fee icky because my ex would grope my boobs non consensually and now I feel weird whenever people touch my upper body area even if its appropriate.
Like even if it was with people I knew for YEARS that shit makes me feel scared. Even now I still feel scared of what clothes to wear because even a LITTLE outline of my chest makes me feel super sexualized.
Im still doing better than how i was last year though 🤫🧏‍♀️ AND I WILL KEEP HEALING BECAUSE HEALING IS NOT LINEAR!!
BTW FUCK YOU ROBIN IM GLAD YOU GOT RAN OVER BY THAT CAR FR IDC IF I NAME DROPPED YOU BC YK WHAT, THATS WHAT YOU GET BECAUSE YOU KNOW DAMN WELL I WASNT THE FIRST OR THE LAST OF YOUR VICTIMS.

According to statistics from the government tourism bureau, the number of foreign visitors to Japan exceeded 3 million for the first time in a single month in March 2024. Against the backdrop of a weakening yen, which is driving up demand for affordable Japan among inbound tourists, what is the impression of Japan among foreigners?
First, I asked a straightforward question to an American man who has lived in Japan for over 30 years: "What do you dislike about Japan?"
He began by praising aspects of living in Japan, highlighting the sense of security and tranquility that comes with it, mentioning the rarity of serious crimes and the freedom from worrying about entering unsafe areas late at night. He also appreciated the relaxed atmosphere that allows leaving a laptop unattended at a café when going to place an order. However, he pointed out a significant downside of living in Japan: becoming accustomed to life there may lead to naivety and excessive trust in human goodness when returning or visiting foreign countries, potentially making one overly passive.
Another American man echoed similar sentiments when asked the same question. He pointed out unique sexual crimes such as groping and the scandalous behavior of certain politicians, like the panty thief lawmaker (such as Takeru Ōgi, a member of the Liberal Democratic Party). These, he stated, clearly constitute negative aspects of life in Japan.
Furthermore, this American expressed dissatisfaction with the quality of housing in Japan, noting the common lack of proper insulation, resulting in uncomfortably cold conditions inside apartments during winter. He also criticized Japan's work culture, stating that his tolerance for the oppressive labor culture has diminished over the years. He emphasized the superficial nature of Japan's corporate culture, where appearances are prioritized over genuine integrity and where the process of decision-making tends to be slow.
In summary, it's often said that Japan's corporate culture is formalistic, emphasizing surface appearances and preserving decorum. This American man appears exhausted by Japan's business culture, highlighting its rigidity and the time-consuming nature of decision-making processes.
A French woman who has been living in Japan for three years remarked, "The cute, anime-like outfits worn by young Japanese women are amusing and certainly characteristic of Japan... However, I've noticed a lot of foreign 'otaku'-like men visiting Japan recently, and they uncomfortably stare at these cute-looking Japanese women on trains and such. Because the women appear so passive, it makes me want to say, 'Be careful!'"
Regarding Japan's business culture, she expressed confusion, stating, "You have to read between the lines, and that's bothersome. Because people who can't express themselves directly make it difficult to gauge whether I've said or done something wrong or offended them."
Furthermore, when asked the same question, another American man responded, "What I dislike most is that in Japan, you can't just live. In reality, while living in Japan, you're always expected to speak positively about life in Japan, and you realize that Japanese people expect you to say, 'Japan is wonderful!' It feels like being trapped in a cult."
Additionally, it has been observed that many foreigners have felt a sense of discrimination in the way they are treated or handled by the police, and some foreign residents in Japan have expressed a belief that Japanese people tend to discriminate based on race or skin color.
ALL About News

The question being posed is structured in a way that invokes the most emotional response from anyone who engages with it, which I feel is intentional.
Generally, I’ve seen the question posed as, ”If you were alone in the woods, would you rather encounter a man or a bear?”
If we break the question down into the information that we know, we can determine the following:
• We are alone in the woods,
…and that’s it. We don’t actually have any other information to go off of. We don’t have any idea of how the encounter takes place, the distance between the man/bear and the woman that is encountering them, if the woman has anything to defend herself typically carried when alone in the woods such as a firearm or some sort of blade or hatchet, or the surroundings at all. And that is exactly why people feel so strongly one way or the other.
Even just the concept of “a forest” looks vastly different from person to person. For me, a forest looks similar to the way they do in the southeastern United States, which is a temperate coniferous forest characterized by lots of pine and thick undergrowth. For others, it may more closely resemble a temperate broadleaf forest, which is the vast majority of the continental U.S.. The actual forest type is probably one of the least important pieces of the puzzle, but the point is that we use our own lived experiences to fill in the blanks of what we expect the scenario to look like.
We see this trope of “The Unknown” used very effectively in the horror genre, as it is entirely up to us to come up with the perceived reality of the situation. All we know is that the protagonist of the story is in a bad position and is currently under threat. With that, our brains come up with the worst thing that we could plausibly believe if we were in the same position. This phenomenon, while powerful, also leads to difficulties for the horror genre if the threat ever becomes tangible. If you’ve ever seen a scary movie and the monster turns out to be a weird goofy looking puppet that is obviously not real, you’ll end up feeling disappointed, as you had a perception in your mind that the threat was far more frightening than it actually is.
For most women, they have zero experience with bears, especially in the context of seeing them up close with no barrier to separate them from you. However, there is an innumerable amount of interactions between women and men. While logically, encountering a bear is probably more dangerous from an outward perspective, lived experience forces people to fill in the blanks. I’ve been with my wife since we were in high school, and she was groped by a man that she knew at a college party I was not able to attend. That experience will live with her for the rest of her life and I regret every day that I was not there to do anything about it. She would be correct to pick the bear, as she has grown up in a society where things like this are not treated as harshly as they should be. We could get into the specifics of how and why it is this way, but that is the way it is.
The disconnect comes from the way this is perceived by others who view it as a way to dogpile men as a collective without taking into consideration that they are nothing like the men that women typically fear. Based on the lived experience of many men, the level of distrust the average woman has for an average man can be genuinely damaging to the mental perception they have of themselves. This is why they feel defensive, not that they are jumping at the chance to run into a woman who is alone in the woods. When I first heard the question, my immediate reaction was to feel defensive because I know that I would never do something to a woman in that scenario. Every day I strive to make the women in my life feel as safe as possible. I only realized later that the image of a man in this imagined scenario will always be the worst version possible. It required me to chew on it a lot before gathering my thoughts and realizing that the answer is not obvious despite what people say.

TL;DR: The question is worded as vaguely as possible to ensure that people will paint a mental picture that is the worst thing they could imagine, rather than what is likely. This tactic is used commonly in the horror genre. Men need to be more empathetic towards women who pick the bear, but men should also not be ridiculed for initially feeling hurt by the perception that being in the woods with a literal bear, apex predators of the forest, is preferable to being in the woods with them. We need more empathy on the whole, and this question requires an introspective understanding that many people have not regularly trained. Go to therapy you filthy animals!

Special thanks to SpacePaladin15 for allowing fanfiction and giving us Tilfish.
I'd like to mention that there's another member of the Sillis Gang out there making amazing work and a great story. Go give Occupation Hazard a read, it's well worth it!
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Sillis Gang!
.*~*.
Memory Transcription Subject: Zoil, Tilfish Space Corps.
Date: December 5, 2136
.~*~.
Zivik snapped at the tail end of the third wave. I realized I could hear him shouting nonsense in between the brief lulls were I was locating a new target to shoot at. I thought he got shot, but after a few more moments I realized he sounded enraged and not injured. I couldn't focus on it too much; the Arxur were applying constant pressure, so even though the third push was dismantled they were not giving us any breathing room. Cracks of gunfire lit up windows across from us and down in between buildings, constantly keeping us firing to push them back while they regrouped to hit us again with more ordinance.
The third floor was still retaining most of their lights with minimal casualties, but they were accumulating losses. None of the ground teams wanted to push up past their barricades to offer additional coverage despite Tugal's heated shrieking, and there was only five of us that could pick off problem targets. I couldn't get up and look over the side to see if they were complying or not without getting my head blown off, and I groped around for another magazine as I got low suppressing some windows that were causing problems.
I managed to find another as a shape materialized a building over, and I snapped to it and dropped it before shakily reloading and snapping back before my lapse could cause a casualty above me.
Zivik was still shouting about something called an area of denial, then Tugal was yelling at him to make some damn sense and the two started going back and forth while we were all being shot at.
I had to tune it out. Another sharp zing overhead made me flinch as I tried to find who shot at me, then ducked down further when the air over my head rippled. I scooted back, grabbing the magazine that had little left in it after realizing there was nothing else to haul to the next spot. I could see Tugal and Zivik now, and while Tugal was busy doing his job Zivik had the radio and was yelling in it. I wanted to scream at him to pick his rifle back up and fight, but before I could say anything he sat it down and suddenly took off.
I balked, watching one of Cleo's most trusted exterminators deserting. The exterminators didn't run from the Arxur. What was he doing? I couldn't get it out of my mind and crawled to my next firing position, noting far less ammunition than I wanted as I lined up another shot. If the Exterminator was running, what chance did I have? There wasn't anywhere to run to!
"Where's he going?!" I shouted, my head ringing as shell casings skittered along the tile from another salvo.
Tugal heard me, thank the stars.
"He's rallying the remaining exterminators! The Greys might try and hit an area we're not inside so they can blindside us, so he's countering that before it can happen!"
"We need them here!"
"They'll be back soon! They're going to make it real hot for any Greys that try to breach the walls!"
I refused to believe that I heard that correctly.
"They're going to set the building on fire?!"
"Yeah!"
"Are they nuts?!"
"I think it's a good idea!"
Tugal had lost his mind, and I wanted to rip out my antennae. "Maybe if we were not inside the building they're about to torch!"
"They'll burn areas we can't cover! They know what they're doing! They're not going to smoke us out!"
We were all going to burn to death. I wanted to laugh but I also wanted to cry. How did you control fire? You didn't. Dumb-asses burned down more than a few buildings during Mom's career in accidental burns. Now Zivik was going to set us all on fire to spite the Arxur.
A few minutes dragged on before Tugal shouted to me again: "Zoil! We've gone through half of our reserves and the rest of the teams are not that far behind! I need you to run down to Vadim and bring back a cart of ammunition. Everyone's caught up with their own problems so I need you to do it! Pernnit won't respond so make it quick!"
I wanted to stay but there wasn't a choice in the matter. Two guns down up here wouldn't matter if all the guns went down later, so I edged back and moved as fast as I could through the nest. I grabbed a spare radio on the way out, tuning it to the correct broadband as I ran down the hall. I tried to not think about how much a difference three soldiers would make on the second floor. Everyone else was going to have to pick up the slack.
Why in the blazing stars was there no one running supplies to the people that needed them? They couldn't pull two or three guys off of the defenses on the other end of the building? They had every advantage, while we had Zivik preparing to burn down parts of the building to buy us some more time!
Ducking below some hanging ceiling tiles I went down the staircase and found myself back on the ground floor, trying to remember which way I had to go at every branching path since everything looked different now. Up ahead was a cart I could use, laden with forgotten welding equipment. I shoved all of it off into a mess on the floor and took it along with me, puffing as I turned a corner.
The lights overhead flickered again, then died. I tightened my grip on the cart as I pushed it through the gloom, feeling out where I should be lest I run head first into a wall. I regretted not grabbing a flashlight but there wasn't anything I could do about that now, but I didn't need it to know where I was going. I continued for a few more moments before realizing that the lights still hadn't come back to life, and this time I did laugh. Maybe that guard had been right, and bureaucracy was what would get us in the end.
"Zoil, I just got word that the building lost power. The generator room should be near where you helped turn off the fire suppression systems. Figure out what happened and get them back on." Tugal's voice crackled over the radio.
"Okay, I'll be there soon." I clicked back, rounding a corner. The hallway opened up slightly and I recognized where I was, the scent of burned fuel growing stronger. I left the cart in an intersection and kept going, passing office spaces in the dark. The occasional sign on the wall was still illuminated by their own emergency power supply, and I found myself moving faster as I figured out exactly where I was going.
The ground jolted beneath me and I flinched, several thunderclaps making me stagger. I hit the ground and covered my head as it continued, breathing hard as it ended after a few long seconds. I grabbed my radio and brought it to my face, getting my legs back under me and running a bit faster. "Tugal?!"
"We're fine! Focus on the generators!"
I dropped my paw from the radio and kept running, my heart beating in my skull. I had to focus on my task. Everyone else's job was to worry about the ordinance falling on their heads. I chanted that mantra in my head over and over as I turned one corner, then went down a long hallway and turned another corner. I hoped to the stars above it was a simple failure. Something like a refueling, or a reset that was needed. A basic fault that I could fix without needing to look for complex tools. The chances were most the equipment I would need was nearby if it needed such repairs, but that would take time to repair and I didn't want to be away from my team any longer than necessary.
I scuttled to a stop in front of a door labeled for the generator room, freezing in place as I stared at the handle.
Sunshine.
What if this was another one of his traps? No one was guarding the room; what if he wasn't as injured as we thought he was, and he hadn't gone and died in a hole somewhere? Tasiilaq's death lingered on my mind, knowing full well that the human could trap electrical rooms with lethal efficiency. This could easily be another ploy to weaken us further. Another trap someone had to enter, and another dead soldier to add to that monster's name.
It had to be me. It could've been anyone that got caught in it, but it was me standing here. There wasn't time to figure out how to circumvent it, and I couldn't force someone else to take my place. There wasn't time for it, and a selfish part of me knew that even if I did there was a chance I'd die anyway from a trap laid further back in the hall.
Another dull explosion sounded from somewhere else in the building, and I felt my heart trying to pop. I took a deep breath, then a second. I released it in a scream and threw myself at the door, banging through it and into the room. I staggered and nearly tripped, diving behind the nearest obstacle. I cracked my head on something and everything got fuzzy, but as I came out of it I realized that I wasn't dead and nothing seemed to have exploded.
Rubbing at a sore part of my skull and batting my antennae, I pulled myself back together as the thudding in my chest eased slightly. I'd thrown myself into one of the generators, I realized.
It was silent, but as I carefully scooted back and examined my surroundings I noticed the display was illuminated but reading an error I wasn't familiar with. Cautiously, I hefted my rifle up and peered around the side, seeing two more generators in the gloom displaying the same error. The radiant glow gave the room some color and let me see more, and I finally noticed smoke in the air. Acidic and sour, a faint haze was hanging around the ceiling.
Hesitantly, I stepped out from my cover and looked around, trying to locate where it was coming from. My paws kicked something and it skittered across the ground, and with a start I realized there were spent shell casings everywhere. I plucked a light off of a nearby station and clicked it on, letting me see the room properly as it banished away the dark.
Holes marred the generators everywhere I could see, jagged metal and chipped paint leaking fumes and smoldering heat. My shoulders slowly sagged as I took it all in. Most of it was superficial damage in areas that didn't matter. Some of it wasn't. Ruined circuits and fried junctions leered at me from crucial feed points. Mechanical equipment that was jammed and twisted beyond repair.
There isn't enough time.
I found myself looking through it anyway, going generator to generator. One was smoldering, and I didn't have an extinguisher to put it out. The second one was dead as well, the junctions ruined beyond reasonable repair. The third one had all it's electronics smashed, and I wasn't even certain if there was anything I could salvage off of it to fix the second one.
The tools I needed to fix this were not here. There were wrenches and various tools and spare parts, but nothing was stocked for the hardware that was ruined. Why would there be? No one would reasonably plan for sabotage of this scale.
Backing out of the room, I numbly got on the radio. "The generators are shot up. I don't have the time to fix them, Tugal."
"Then get back here with the ammunition. " Came a hurried response. "I'll pass word along. We'll do without them."
I sucked in a breath and coughed, feeling a deep ache in my chest. I wasn't whistling so bad anymore, or at least I thought so until I coughed again and it sounded more like a chirp than a cough. I flexed my mandibles and grimaced, slowing down
I wanted to run. Everything around me demanded I do. The basic urge to flee to somewhere safer. The fact that I was working on a timer before everyone's bullets ran out. The reality that I was alone in the dark, completely surrounded by predators that wished to tear me apart. But if I did that, I'd exhaust myself before it counted. I couldn't run, or I'd die. I'd sap my strength before I needed it, and then I'd either collapse in a fit or before I could get those bullets where they needed to be.
Tugal was counting on me to get this done. I couldn't fail him because I lost my self control.
Walking wouldn't cut it so I found myself settling into a swift jog, my rifle tapping against my side in a steady pattern. For some reason it started to irritate me, then it started to grow and bloom into anger. How much time would this buy us? A few hours, defending a place of no value? We had the choice of abandoning this place to the Arxur or losing it to them entirely, and that would be soon. We would have been better off defending a bunker and dying for a reason, instead of dying in a burrow saving nobody but ourselves and a pawful of civilians. How were we going to escape the Arxur encircling us? The cost would be in blood, and I wasn't foolish enough to think a lot of it wouldn't be ours.
This was Sunshine's fault. That predator did this, locking us all in here until we were discovered. All that blood was on his twisted hands, and honestly he probably wasn't bothered by that. Predators liked suffering, and Sunshine loved making a game out of it with his bombs and traps and sweet little lies. He had no interest in helping anyone. He wanted Vadim dead and we were all collateral. His advice to help the civilians was just some ploy. He was favoring us, wanting us to feel indebted to him? I wasn't doing his dirty work.
It hurt, finding out Tugal hadn't trusted me enough to let me in on that fact. Realizing that Marullo never had his pad was a burning coal in my chest, and Tugal's logic burned even worse. Sunshine was keeping us alive. You'd think that was because he had feelings, or some grand plan. It was just to use us. I got to see first hand how he treated anything that got in his way.
But Tugal was right to not talk about it. Vadim's men would kill us if he found out, and the optics around us were bad as it was. He should have at least told me, instead of letting me figure it out on my own. All the secrets we kept between us, and the most pressing one is the one he keeps away from me. It left a vile taste in my mouth.
With how things were going, maybe we would have to take Sunshine's backward advice. Evidently he knew the building better than me. If we got pushed back too far we'd have to move the cafeteria there, and then Vadim's plans would get shot up in the process. By the blazing stars, maybe they already had been and that's why he was taking so long to figure out a proper course of action. Sunshine could've done who knows what that I wasn't aware of to complicate things further.
It dawned on me that the flashing yellow lights for the lockdown were out. Not that it mattered anymore. You might as well go outside with a plate in each paw. Our prison of locked doors got turned into one made of teeth. I had to wonder if the absence of the extra security from the lockdown would mean anything. This was a government building, but I didn't know what kind of maglocks they were using. I knew that there were some that disengaged when they lost power and there were some that didn't, but the later ones were for areas that needed the utmost security. This was normally an entire building full of professionals trained with firearms, so maybe there was a chance that some of the stuff we'd been unable to recover was now available.
I suddenly hoped not. If it was true then it meant every way out was unlocked now, and the Arxur could come right on in if there was a spot we missed.
Finally, I reached the cart again and shoved it along. I could feel the grimy soot beneath my paws as I hurried, my flashlight illuminating stained walls where the smoke had been particularly foul. I could see Vadim's quarters at the far end, the set of doors marred and tainted with soot and grubby paw prints. The soot on the floor had a lot of traffic around there, with prints going both in my direction and the other way from countless soldiers coming and going.
There were a few fresh holes in the door, and it made me pause again. I didn't want to end up like the man that had rushed in there after Sunshine's proposal, and I hesitated before knocking firmly on the door a few times. There wasn't an immediate answer and I fidgeted. Tugal told them I'd be coming. He had to of. I knocked again, just in case. Once more no one bothered to usher me in, and my irritation flared before deciding that I'd given more than enough notice.
Gently pushing the door open, I was surprised to find the room dark. Vadim's guard would have plenty of lights set up by now. Leaving the cart at the door I stepped further in, seeing rows and rows of tables with equipment of all kinds either laid out or in neat stacks, but not a person in sight.
"What..." I couldn't help but chitter, being the only noise in the vacated room.
The ammunition I needed was at the first table. I physically shook my head, my antennae swinging in a delayed arc with the motion as I stepped back and grabbed the cart, dragging it into the room and shoving it up to the table. I was quick to plunk down several cases of bullets, then stack magazines with them. Several were already loaded and felt like a blessing, and in no time I'd cleared the table off entirely and moved onto the next, grabbing more munitions.
Vadim had to be attending to something dire. Maybe he was rallying the troops or investigating a lead out of here. Something.
Why is this room abandoned? Sunshine could stroll right in here and blow up everything!
The doors opened behind me and my heart sank, my paws occupied with a case of munitions. I started to spin, fumbling with the box and dropping it before realizing there wasn't a lone predator looming in the entrance but three of my own kind.
"Where in the blazing stars is everyone?" I clacked sharply at them, recognizing Vadim's men flanking Pernnit on either side. She flinched at my harsh greeting, but her antennae dipped slightly as she dug in.
"We've figured a way out. Everyone not actively fighting off the Arxur are working at making an opening. Tugal said you'd coming down so I grabbed two guys to help speed this up. We need more time but we're close." She chittered back, her entourage taking a cue to come closer to help. My boiling anger simmered just enough to not belittle them further, but my antennae swayed aggressively still.
"And what's General Vadim doing?" I asked, a bit sharper than I meant to.
"He's helping with the evacuation point to make it go faster."
The image of an old man moving heavy machinery or doing who knew what to forge an escape route crossed my mind, and I grit my mandibles as I picked up the case I'd dropped and moved it onto the cart.
"We need people supporting the ones fighting the Arxur. I shouldn't be down here fetching ammunition; I should be back there!" I hissed, turning and grabbing another box. "And maybe let people know the good news? Everyone thinks they're about to die! Shoot, if we move the civilians now that'll free up more paws to get us out of here!"
Pernnit shifted on her paws, still not helping me load the cart with the other two.
"We can't risk a stampede running into the operation and slowing everything down. When it's open we'll send word of it."
"That doesn't explain why everyone defending this place is in the dark." I grumbled more evenly, stacking some cases. There was a way out. It stilled my temper as a weight was lifted off my chest, and I imagined it would be like that for everyone else. We weren't going to die in a corner. We had progress, more so than we had in the past cycle.
"Mistakes were made." Pernnit conceded, looking to one of the men helping me finish loading the cart. "You should not have needed to come down here."
"Everyone guarding the lobby is running low on ammunition. I'm going to need help getting magazines loaded for everyone. I don't know what the other end of the building looks like, but supplies need to get to them as well. I'm not logistics but that sounds like too m-"
One of the soldiers lifted the case of ammunition in their paws a little higher before slamming it down against my carapace, and the rest of the words gushed past my mandibles in an incoherent whoosh as my lungs seized. I staggered and caught myself on the cart, my legs nearly splaying out in every direction as it rolled and nearly took me to the floor. The other soldier rushed to my side to help. His paws were grasping his own rifle tightly, and he started pushing it to the side as he got to me. The stock of it was coming back around too fast-

STOP DATING. Alamin niyo muna why you’re so unmotivated to do anything. ‘Wag na kayong mandamay ng iba sa problema niyo.
This will be the first and last time I speak of you and anything related to us in public. I was just triggered some nights back after passing by your condo and the resto where I introduced you to my mom.
It took me two years to finally break it off with someone who was emotionally checked out, incredibly selfish, and still attached to their parents via their umbilical cord. I saw red flags early on but I couldn’t reconcile who he actually was versus the person I built in my head. He’s a softy kasi; no bone in his body capable of violence and even well-warranted anger. He’s patient, kind, and understanding too. Not to mention, he’s chinito and a 10/10 for me in the looks department. And, most of all, he wasn’t (as) sexist like the rest. In retrospect, these qualities—save for the physical—were bare minimum things, pero hayop, napaka-low to no effort talaga!
I realized I was a partner of convenience—someone who offered solace when he started med school on a whim. Someone who afforded him peace after years of being in a tumultuous relationship. Someone who gave him all the excuse he needed to not even meet the bare minimum effort needed to maintain a relationship because I did the heavylifting. Postpone nang postpone sa mga lakad kahit scheduled in advance, puro “I miss you” but no follow through, satisfied na sa messages and VC, and ayaw gumastos to see me but willing to spend ₱10k-12k for a shoe or an equipment na gagamitin lang once or a handful of times before palitan ng mas mahal. For the record, we often split the bill (sometimes ako nagbabayad) and never akong nagpagastos or nanghiram sa kanya.
All this time I thought you were the type lang talaga na ‘di nanunumbat but when someone pointed it out na wala kang masumbat because wala ka namang ginawa for me, natawa na lang ako… because they were right. You didn’t bring value in my life, the stubborn person that I am just wanted you there. I took your word for it all the times you said you loved me, even though your actions showed me otherwise.
Natatawa na lang ako realizing how much you reaped the benefits of being loved without putting in the same effort. Two years together and you could only find two generic adjectives to describe me? How insulting na mas kilala pa ‘ko ng mga taong kaka-meet ko lang. Nakakasuka kayong mga low to no effort people na may gana pang mag-offer ng labels and relationship, or may gana pang umiwas ng therapy. I understand that not everyone can afford it, but you could. You had all the resources in life to have made things easier for us but you simply chose not to.
The only time you ever got mad at me was when I ended things with you “without” giving you a chance to do your best. Bhe, ano ‘yung 2 years? Rehearsal? Training? Di ata nag-register sa’yo na people can call it quits for whatever reason. Breakups don’t have to be consensual or mutual—it only takes one party to want it. Funnily enough, before I deleted our conversations, I realized that the arguments we rarely had were because you didn’t want to do the bare minimum; na para bang mali ako for expecting it from you. You knew that my love language were acts of service and physical touch, and yet you wanted me satisfied with meeting up halfway and seeing each other for 2-3 hours once every 2 or 3 weeks when you had nothing going on, when the distance was a 20-minute LRT ride away. ULOL!
I won’t retract that you’re a good person—a good son and friend—but you were an incredibly selfish partner. I moved around your schedule, albeit you being unemployed, dropping out of med school, and barely having a social life. I supported all your endeavors convenient or not, pati mga race at practice mo ng madaling araw pinupuntahan ko pa. And yet all the things I wanted to do, no matter how small, you vetoed. You acted like they were too much of a hassle to even consider.
I gave you a lot of leeway kasi I knew you always came last at home. Imagine the irony of prioritizing someone only for them to put you in the back burner. Stupid me thought it was my duty to make up for their poor treatment of you. I was supportive of you to the point of enabling, I get that now. You can’t love the trauma, privilege, and lack of motivation out of someone. You can only hope they do better for themselves and, eventually, you as their partner.
I know you don’t use Reddit, but if by some stroke of luck you see this, I hope you heal from wanting affection from people who don’t respect you and clearly put you last, and I hope you stop getting into relationships you’re not ready for. I hope you work on your trauma and stop using the people you date as therapists or reasons not to sit on your feelings and be alone. No healthy or well-adjusted person says I love you to someone six days after they’ve met (at least with no solid proof to eventually back it up). I just thought you were one of those people who wore their heart on their sleeves.
Thank you, though, because of you I finally know exactly what I want and don’t want. And I finally realized something very crucial—communication means shit if the person you’re talking to is all about haggling your non-negotiables instead of meeting them. Sabi nga, “If you can’t give her what she wants, stop stressing her out, bro.”
You wanted me to be okay with you being unambitious and unemployed na palamunin ng magulang mo despite leaning 30. Your parents gave you options—magtrabaho, bumalik ng med, or magmaster’s degree—and yet you chose none of those and that broke me. I saw you as one of your friends—directionless kasi nakaasa sa magulang—and that shit terrified me. I eventually reached my breaking point.
Thank you. I needed you as a plot device to establish stronger and firmer boundaries and non-negotiables. You ticked all my boxes physically and values-wise superficially, but now I’m done and I’m ready for the real deal.
Pagamit ng linya ng isa pang red flag; thank you, next!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
The ointment that King Creole had given me was not permanent. Much to my shock and horror when I woke up and went to the bathroom I saw the giant scar and stitches staring back at me. Turns out, the ointment lasts only eight hours before it needs to be reapplied. Which was annoying, and forced me to have a timer go off just before eight hours was up to reapply the ointment to my scar. Just another thing forced upon me because of my entanglement with King Creole.
A week or two after my last job for him, I was rudely interrupted by him calling me again. I was in the middle of dinner with my mom, my dad was out at work on a late shift. I stared at my phone for a long time. Everything in me was telling me just to ignore him. It took everything in me to answer him and bring the phone up to my ear.
“My darling Mace!” Creole’s excited voice greeted me, causing an annoyed exhale to come out of my nostrils. “Sorry to interrupt dinner with your lovely mother, but an urgent matter requires your attention. Finish your dinner and then get your lovely self down to the shop. See you then.” He didn’t even bother waiting for a response or let me respond at all. The call lasted probably all of ten seconds.
“Who was that?” My mom asked as he took a sip of her drink. I stuffed my phone into my pocket and picked at the chicken and rice staring back at me. My mom is a great cook, but it was hard for me to feel any kind of appetite when all I could think of was the horrible shit I had seen and had gone through. I had almost been murdered multiple times, one time being at death's door, and I had no one to turn to. Very hard to feel any kind of appetite after all that shit.
“Scam call,” I told her and I forced myself to eat an entire forkful of food. She nodded and kept eating her share of the dinner. After I had eaten enough to pass for a normal amount of food, I pushed my chair back and carried my plate to the sink. Rinsing it out after I placed my leftovers back into the pan that they had come from. “Mom I’m going out for a walk. Do you need anything while I’m out?” I asked her once I had finished with my plate.
“No sweetheart. Just be careful out there. Lots of weirdos out there nowadays,” she said as she passed me with her empty plate. Oh if only she knew the shit I was mixed up with. But I gave her a nod and a hug. I ran upstairs to my room to get my essentials. My lockpicking kit and now a new weapon to my arsenal, pepper spray. It might not exactly work on Creole but it would stop a repeat of a knife ending up in my throat.
As if to harp on that point, my timer went off, prompting me to go into the bathroom to quickly apply my ointment. It seemed that whenever it began to run low and I had to think about having to go back to the shop on my ‘days off’ the container would always refill itself. So I guess that was a nice plus.
With everything ready for my next horrible errand, I hugged and kissed my mom goodbye before leaving my house and heading in the direction of the voodoo store. Despite it clearly being labeled ‘Half Priced Voodoo Store’, my mind constantly wanted to call it a voodoo shop. Something about it just rolled off the tongue better. Maybe Creole had a branding issue or something. The sun was just about to dip below the horizon and the streetlight flickered to life, creepily illuminating my way towards the shitty part of town where the shop/store was located.
This time thankfully I didn’t run into any drug dealers or crackheads. But my hands never left my pockets the entire time. I had my finger on the trigger of the pepper spray ready for anyone that might want to jump me. But I arrived safely at the store and opened the door, the sad rusty bell signaling my arrival.
Waiting for me at the register was Jacob. It hadn’t gotten any easier to look at him. He was in a new outfit, however. Before he had been in a suit similar to King Creole’s, but now he was wearing a bellboy outfit. It was bright red with shiny gold trimmings. He looked like some sort of ornamental nutcracker or something with how new and shiny he looked. His stitched-up mouth was now curled up into a smile as he eagerly waved hello to me.
“Doesn’t he just look positively lovely?!” Creole shouted excitedly, causing me to yelp in surprise as he suddenly appeared behind me. He wrapped his arm around me and led me closer to the register. Jacob took his hat off and did a little bow to me and I awkwardly waved hello to him, more worried about getting Creole off of me.
“He looks…good,” I said, shrugging his arm off of me and letting out a sigh of relief when he finally let me go. If he was offended by my shrugging his affection off he didn’t let it dampen his excitement over how Jacob looked.
“Doesn’t he? I wanted to try something new with him and I’m absolutely adoring how he turned out!” he shouted with giddy excitement. Jacob placed his little hat back on before bowing again and excusing himself to the backroom. He left us alone and I suddenly found the atmosphere much less inviting without him there.
“So…how’s business?’ I asked him, trying to cut some of the awkward tension in the room. He craned his neck down to look at me. I could swear that his head was about to break its stitches and his head would go tumbling to the floor with how he was staring at me.
“It’s great! Can’t complain about it at all actually.” Creole let out a big chuckle before slapping me on the back hard and heading behind the counter as if to escape any imaginary retaliation I might want to do to him. “Don’t worry Mace, I won’t let you kill yourself with small talk,” he said as he sat down in the chair that sat behind the register. “I need you to get me a mirror. A very special one.” His smile dipped a bit, this was something serious.
“What does it do? I assume since you want it, it probably isn’t normal.” I walked up to the counter and noticed that the voodoo template doll was staring back at me.
“You catch on quickly.” Creole snickered at me in a patronizing tone. “It’s best if I don’t tell you what it does. In fact, for your own safety, I’d advise you not even to glance at this mirror.” He raised his arm and fluttered his fingers, a scrap of paper appearing between his index and middle finger. “This place is also quite far away and I know y’all aren’t gonna make it walking. So I’ll give ya some help,” he said as he handed me the scrap of paper.
I took it from him and looked down at it. It was only what I guessed was a room number. “Where exactly is this?” I asked, looking back up toward the register. Only to find him not there anymore. I quickly spun on my heels to see if he was behind me and sure enough, the tall bastard had somehow teleported over to the entrance to his shop.
“An abandoned hotel in Pennsylvania. Quite the walk for you I know,” he said with that stupid smile on his face. That was at least a several-day nonstop walk, and there was no way I was making it there without my parents noticing.
“How exactly am I to get to Pennsylvania?” I asked him, stuffing the room number into my pocket. He giggled a bit as he motioned for me to come closer. I took a few steps over to him and watched as he again fluttered his fingers, soft purple flames emanated from his fingertips. He proceeded to draw on the door, and I watched with a hint of wonderment as it subtly gleaned purple and then died down into nothingness.
“It’s just a simple step away, darling.” He opened the door for me and I was more than a little surprised to see that the door didn’t open to the outside. It opened to the lobby of a hotel. I quickly walked over and stuck my head through the door. The other side was an almost pitch-black hotel room with dust and cobwebs floating through the air.
“You might want this also,” he said as he handed me an electric lantern. I nodded and grabbed it from him. I took a deep breath and entered the hotel. “Remember, don’t look at the mirror,” he warned me before shutting the door behind me. I stared back at the door and stayed in place for a few seconds in the pitch-blackness.
It took me a few seconds to figure out how to turn the lantern on, but when I at last illuminated the lobby I was more than happy. Not a single sound was being made in the hotel. Not a creak in the floorboards, no wind blowing from outside, not even the sounds of rats scampering around. It was absolute silence. The only sound I could hear was my breathing. If it wasn’t for the lamp I might have thought I was in a sensory deprivation chamber.
I fished the room number out of the pocket and stared down at it with the lantern. Room 1145. There were at least 11 floors to this hotel and I knew for damn sure that even if this place had an elevator there was no chance of it working. I walked over to the front desk and stared down at it, there was a bell there to ring for staff but something in my gut was telling me that it would be a terrible idea to ring it. So I simply moved on and headed towards the stairs, following the signs that pointed me the way.
While this place was abandoned it also seemed to be frozen in time. As I walked past the kitchen and dining area I was shocked to see food out and ready to be served. Breakfast foods were piled high and ready to be eaten. The coffee was warm, the milk was cold, and the fruit was fresh and ripe, it was like this place had been abandoned and left in limbo.
“This place is weird,” I mumbled to myself as I continued to walk towards the stairs. I opened the door that led to the stairwell and was immediately blasted with the overwhelming smell of rot. It was enough to cause me to drop the lantern and let out a retch that echoed throughout the entire hotel. I quickly picked the lantern back up and ran back toward the kitchen. I grabbed a cup of coffee, and quickly took a giant inhale of it just to get something else into my nostrils.
“Fuck,” Was all I could reasonably think of saying. Before I could even think about going back toward that stairwell again, I quickly picked up some giant napkins from one of the tables, the kind that you usually put on your lap, and wrapped them around my mouth and nose in a makeshift face mask, making sure to dampen it with coffee to give me at least something else just as strong to counteract the smell.
With my makeshift mask ready, I once again braved the stairwell. It didn’t take me long to find the culprit of the noxious smell. A pile of decomposed bodies was lying at the foot of the stairs. I couldn’t even begin to count how many of them were there, as their limbs were all tangled together. I shoved my mask as close as I could to my nostrils and did my best to focus only on the coffee smell. Time may have stopped for food in this hotel, but dead bodies sure as hell still decomposed just fine.
I was forced to step on them since there was no other way to begin climbing up the stairs. The sickening crunch and snapping of bones were enough to get another retch out of me as I desperately tried to focus on the smell of coffee. I moved as quickly as I could towards the stairs and began running up them as fast as possible. I didn’t dare take off my mask until I reached the 11th floor. Opening the door to the floor I quickly ran into the hallway and shut the door behind me. I took my mask off to see if I could breathe easier and was relieved to be away from the horrible smell of death.
I was never more grateful for the smell of something normal. I stood there catching my breath after running up 11 flights of stairs, and took a look around, moving the lantern up and down to see if anything else was up here with me. The halls were empty, but every single door on this floor had a do not disturb sign on the doorknob. After my breath was sufficiently caught, I started making my toward room 1145. The eerie silence was enough to start playing tricks on me. Every single step I took it felt like something was following close behind me. I would stop and shine the lantern behind me, but there was nothing there. But every time I started walking again I swear I could hear a second set of footsteps just after mine.
When I arrived at room 1145 I was happy to see that the door was an old one. It didn’t have the electronic locks that hotels have now, this one needed a key. And that’s why I had been sent here. I sat the lantern down next to me and got my tools out, ready to work on his lock. I was surprised by how this lock acted. It was almost like the lock Creole used for the Voodoo shop. The tumblers seemed to be changing constantly and every time it felt like I was close to getting somewhere all my progress was erased.
“Son of a bitch,” I mumbled as I fiddled with the lock. I wasn’t about to let some ancient probably magic-infused lock show me up. So with way more brute force than skill, I started attacking this lock with everything I had learned. And to my immense satisfaction, I heard the satisfying click of the door unlocking. I quickly turned the doorknob pushed the door open and clapped with joy over how I had finally gotten through the lock.
I quickly packed up my tools in their bag and stuffed them into my pocket. I made sure to look down at the floor just in case this freaky mirror was just standing there waiting for me to stare at it. I decided to use my makeshift facemask as a blindfold. I wrapped it around my head and reached my arms out to feel out in front of me. I left the lantern in the hallway since I was going in completely blind anyway.
I patted my hands out in the darkness to begin building up my surroundings. It wasn’t easy and I bumped into pretty much anything and everything I came across. Finally, after a few minutes of bumping into things, I got a general layout of the room. But I hadn’t figured out where the mirror was. It was then that it hit me, what size was this mirror? Creole hadn’t said if it was a body mirror or a handheld mirror or the fucking bathroom mirror.
Exiting back into the hallway I took off my blindfold and tried to think of a better way of doing this. I looked back into the darkness of the room and then down at the lantern. I picked up the lantern and then tossed it into the room. Immediately I could tell that there was no mirror right at the entrance so I would be okay to enter at least there with some light. I walked in with the lantern and looked around where the light touched. With that crossed off, I picked up the lantern and looked around for something to cover up a side of it. Lucky for me there were towels just hanging on the coat hanger on the door to the bathroom.
I covered one side of the lantern so that light could only appear on one side. I then extended my arm out into the main room of the hotel and slowly began to rotate the lantern as if it were some sort of makeshift lighthouse. My thinking was that if it came into contact with a mirror then the light would be reflected onto the wall not illuminated by the lantern since that side would be covered by the towel. And to my amusement, I was proven right when after a few turns, the light appeared on the other wall.
“Bingo,” I giggled as I quickly pulled the lantern back and placed it back on the floor. Then I tied my blindfold back on and quickly went out in the direction in which I had pointed my light. After a few seconds of groping in the darkness, my fingers came into contact with the cold and slick surface of a mirror. I must’ve been smiling a big stupid grin when I reached it. I felt the mirror up a bit and figured that it was some sort of standing mirror. I tried lifting it and found it relatively light.
Confident in my abilities I started walking towards the door. Of course, in my excitement over finding the mirror, I happened to have forgotten where I had placed the lantern. I tripped over it and fell with the mirror down onto the floor. I groaned in pain and surprise, feeling like a dumbass over how I had forgotten the lantern. And when I looked up from the floor I was shocked to see my reflection looking back at me. The fall had pulled down my blindfold.
“Shit!” I quickly sat up and grabbed the lantern. I half expected that I would explode or spontaneously combust or turn to dust. But after a few seconds, nothing happened to me. I closed my eyes and reached out to the mirror and sat it up completely. The first time had been an accident but the second time curiosity at last got to me and I opened my eyes to look at the mirror.
It was just my reflection. Nothing horrible about it, just me. I moved my arm around and did a few moves and it followed it perfectly. It seemed like a normal mirror. Had I gotten the wrong one? That train of thought was quickly derailed when I saw that my reflection was smiling at me. When I for sure wasn’t smiling. I backed up from the mirror and yet my reflection didn’t follow what I was doing, it just stared at me with a look of total malice in its eyes.
I watched with complete and utter terror as it began to contort and change. My limbs grew gangly. It looked like some sick funhouse mirror version of me. Her nails grew longer until they had completely turned into claws and my small stature was completely erased into some horrible stretched-out version of myself. It would’ve been scary enough if that was all it did, but then she started crawling out of the mirror.
“Oh fuck this!” I screamed as I quickly turned around and started sprinting towards the stairs. I probably haven’t run that fast since I was forced to run a mile in PE. My gym teacher probably would’ve loved the form I was using, it was probably textbook. I reached the stairs in no time flat. Only to discover that it was locked. “You gotta be fucking kidding!” I screamed and began fighting with the lock.
I looked back down the hall and screamed in absolute terror when I saw my reflection chasing after me on all fours like some skinwalker-looking thing. Her creepy smile was accompanied by some new sharp and jagged teeth that were no doubt ready to tear me to shreds. She didn’t even bother saying words to me, only cackling uncontrollably as she quickly closed the distance between us.
I wasted no more time on the locked door and sprinted down the hallway to my right and was more than happy to see a fire escape warning above the door at the end of the hall. As I was sprinting down the hall though, I could hear that my reflection was rapidly catching up with me. And I could feel that if I ran toward that door there’d be no way for me to make it there in time. I was about to look behind me when I noticed one of the hotel rooms was open. In a split second, I changed directions and ran into the room, quickly slamming the door shut behind me, locking and deadbolting the door. My reflection came slamming into the door but the thick wooden structure withstood her attack for the time being.
I lay on the floor catching my breath for a moment before I started looking around either for escape or for some sort of defence. I fished in my pocket for my pepper spray and got it out. I didn’t exactly know if my reflection would be affected by it but having it with me gave me a little sense of safety. I was also glad that through my blind panic, I had somehow managed to keep the lantern with me.
Any sense of safety was quickly erased when my reflection began banging on the door again, and I noticed cracks beginning to appear on the door. I couldn’t waste any more time. I looked around and tried to find something or anything to get me out of this situation. I thought about calling Creole but when I pulled my phone out I was met with the dreaded no signal. With that idea expended, I looked around the room and discovered it was one of those rooms that was separated by another with a door. If I could pick the lock I could sneak into the other room and maybe make it to the fire escape.
Quickly pulling my tools out I didn’t bother wasting a second and began trying to figure out which tool would do the best job. All the while my reflection was screaming an otherworldly scream and smashing herself against the door. To my immense relief, this lock didn’t seem to have any magic fuckery infused into it. And in no time flat I had picked the lock and had managed to enter the other room. I dimmed the lantern and quietly closed the dividing door behind me.
I waited in the dimly lit room until I heard the sounds of the door being broken down and my reflection entering the room. I was waiting at the door and the moment I heard her enter the other room, I slowly opened the door and exited into the hallway. I could hear her tearing the room apart looking for me. And I started making my way toward the fire exit. As quietly and as quickly as I could. I was about ten feet away from it when I heard her scream. I looked behind me and saw that she had exited the room and had seen me.
I sprinted toward the door and flung it open, I half expected to be put outside but instead, I came tumbling into the voodoo store. I was never more happy to see the dust-filled shop in my entire life. The fire exit had been linked to the front door of the voodoo shop and I had ended up smashing into one of the shelves of shrunken heads.
“Mace? Goodness darling! You in some kind of rush?” Creole asked as I heard his footsteps and cane rapidly approaching me. Before I could even look at him though I looked back at the door and reached out towards it.
“Quick! Shut it!” That was all I got out as my reflection came sprinting towards me. She leaped through the door and was about to lunge toward me when Creole swung his cane like a baseball bat and sent her flying into the glass window of the shop. The hit must’ve knocked her unconscious as she went limp after she hit the floor.
“I see ya looked at the mirror,” Creole said in clear disappointment. I stared up at him and then over toward my corrupted reflection. I quickly put him between me and her and did my best to try and explain how it had all happened. I must’ve been talking a million miles an hour and yet Creole seemed to understand everything completely. “I see so it was an accident,” he said after I was done and catching my breath.
“Yes, sir.” I nodded jumping a bit when Jacob suddenly appeared next to me with a glass of tea. I’m not normally a tea drinker but after what I had just gone through, I gladly accepted it from him and took a big sip of it.
“Well, there’s no harm in a simple mistake. Though why didn’t ya just put a blanket over the mirror once you found it?” Creole asked me as he walked over to my reflection and poked her with his cane. I nearly choked on my tea when he asked me that. The thought had never even crossed my mind and it was such a good idea.
“I…didn’t think of that,” I admitted to him. Embarrassed over having not thought of that. What had my plan even been? Walk down the stairs blindfolded holding a giant mirror? I felt like a dumbass.
“Ah, don’t worry about it Mace.” Just go and bring the mirror back here, I’ll deal with our long friend here,” Creole said as he rubbed his gloved hands together with giddy excitement. I nodded quickly and handed the nearly empty cup of tea over to Jacob before entering the hotel again through the voodoo shop’s entrance. When I rounded the turn to where I had left the mirror standing in the hallway I quickly shut my eyes as tightly as I could and began walking towards it, arm stretched out in an attempt to find it. I finally touched it and picked it up, carefully walking with it until I was back in the voodoo shop. I felt it being taken from me and figured it was Jacob taking it out of my hands.
“You can open your eyes now, Mace.” Creole greeted me with a chuckle after I had stood there with my eyes shut for a few minutes. When I opened them I saw that the mirror was covered by a thick white sheet and that Jacob was carrying it over to Creole’s office.
“Where’s…my reflection?” I asked, seeing that she was no longer crumpled in the corner.
“Oh while you were getting the mirror I tossed her back into the hotel. She shouldn’t be too much of a bother.” Creole let out one of his strange hums at this and beckoned me to follow him back to the register. “That’s four favors done and only one last one to do until you’ve cleared your debt with me.” Creole sat down and held up a single finger to me.
“Sir? What is that mirror even for? Why would you want something like that?” I asked him, really not caring at the moment that I had only one favor left to do for him.
“Call it an insurance policy, my darling Mace,” He said with a grin on his face. “If I ever need a way to come back, why not come back as a nightmare?” He asked me with a series of low and creepy laughs. He shooed me away as he began cackling and I was more than happy to leave him in a laughing fit. After everything I had just gone through, I wanted nothing more than to collapse into my bed and rot away.
One favor left. That’s all I had to do. Then I would be free. If only it had been that simple.

I (44 M) have always been a weak and timid person. I was palpably small in size, quite thin and delicately-built, hence I always got bullied and harrassed by all my peers, especially in college, most men were bigger and stronger than me. Growing up with abuse, I grew to fear all men (especially the ones who were well-built, they came across as very intimidating to me) and avoided them as much as possible. I was very uncomfortable in an all-male setting and always looked for women to be in the mix. I have gone through life with a rather constant feeling of dread and fear. I walked down the streets differently than my peers. I would park my car near lights, avoid poorly-lit basement parkings, I would watch other people when I was walking, avoid desolate streets and I was always aware of potential threats. At times, I found myself wishing I had a strong masculine figure, such as a brother, to be there with me who could protect me and take me under his wings
When my son grew up to become quite big in size and strength, I somehow started viewing him as that figure who could protect me. Despite being a teenager, still in his adolescence (19 M), he was visibly strong, muscularly-built. He was nothing like me, contrasted me completely. While I have always been treated unfairly (even abused) and people walked all over me and I tolerated all of it because I was too scared to confront men or stand up for myself, he's someone who will never tolerate even the slightest of injustice and is always the one to take charge of the situation. I sensed his competence to rise to an occasion. He was also very caring and sensitive, was very mature for his age and exuded robust capability to protect and provide. He started being protective towards me and my wife (his mother).
For a long time, I have faced groping and inappropriate touching by male passengers in public transport - the city trains. It happened many times and every time I was left frightened. But I had no choice but to commute again because my work demanded me to. I suffered silently because I was ashamed to disclose it to anyone. My daily commute to work was nothing less than a nightmare. I was trampled, mauled and constantly pushed around. Tired of daily nightmarish experiences, I floated this thought that my son and I could commute together since we travelled at almost the same time and same route because his college was a stone's throw distance from my workplace. That's where it all started and I ended up requesting him nearly every day. Initially it was just the drop off in the mornings, but eventually I even started requesting him to come and pick me up in the evenings adjusting his schedule. He started sensing my fear towards males and also saw me getting trampled and struggling to navigate through the crowded trains on my own. He started helping me and we ended up having a tacit understanding that he has to provide me a drop-off and pick up every day and hand-hold me through the crowds shielding me from prowlers. Over a period of time, his body language became quite evident that he viewed me as weak and fragile and had placed me under his protection, not just for my workplace commute but for every aspect of life. This arrangement and understanding is a secret from everyone, especially my wife.
There are times when I feel alarmed at the rate at which I am getting dependent on him for my most basic needs. I fear that I will end up overburdening him at this young age. A role-reversal has already happened unfortunately and I am looking up to him more and more as a nurturing and protective figure while in reality I should be the nurturing figure to him. The fact that I am living a sheltered life in the safety of a teenaged boy makes me feel emasculated. Further, I am very worried that I am parentifying him and possibly ruining his youth. Due to my incompetencies, he has to invest a lot of time shouldering my responsibility, a time which he would have otherwise invested in social and academic pursuits. He never complains, acts like a responsible adult. He invests a lot of time in ferrying me everyday and manages all this along with his studies. Whenever I broach this subject, he says that he will always find time for me because safety comes first, rest everything next. Sometimes, I do worry about exposing him to a possible threatening situation but at the same time, I am also convinced about his physical formidability, because despite being adolescent, he's heavily-built, enough to intimidate even a fully-grown adult. In fact our physical contrast has been attracting ill-humored comments from our relatives and friends.
I have tried a lot to become independent, but I am finding it impossible. Every time I go out there on the menacing streets, I get so frightened that I end up running back to the safety of my son's refuge. While I am placed in the safety of my son, the same menacing streets and crowded public transport appear different, it appears safe and I feel confident to walk the same space as my peers. When he's around, it feels like the load is off me and I am not required to worry about anything or what to do next. In his hands, my life has literally completely transformed. Maybe it's just my perception, but I have actually noticed a difference in other people's attitude towards me. People don't infantilize me or don't treat me unfairly when they see me with a big strong male. When he's around, all my worries disappear. His sheer familiarity makes me calm, it is a very soothing and relieving feeling, it is like coming home. Also the fact that I am getting protection from a close kin ensures that my vulnerability is not known to any outsider. For a very long time, I have lived my life with a constant dread and in abject fear – fear of being vulnerable to all men, fear of being picked off a desolate street and raped, fear of being bullied, fear of being treated unfairly, fear of unwanted fondling in public transport. Honestly I don’t want it anymore in my life. It's just that I have suffered for so long, that now I am desperate to seek a sheltered life even if that means going through the humiliation of role-reversal with my son
I am worried
Please advise

This is part 2 of my list for Virginia's post Furman execution roster. As mentioned in part 1's opening paragraph, character count limitations forced me into splitting my Virginia's execution roster into two separate posts. For the link to part 1, please click here.
59. Kevin Cardwell (1991-1998, lethal injection): Cardwell intercepted Anthony Brown, a 15 year old drug carrier, while he was at a bus stop. He lured Brown into his apartment and searched his belongings for any drugs. Brown was then dragged into the woods, shot to death, and stripped of the cocaine strapped to his legs.
60. Mark Sheppard (~1980s-1999, lethal injection): Sheppard and his accomplice Andre Graham were invited by their dealers, 40 year old Richard and 35 year old Rebecca Rosenbluth, over to their home to buy cocaine. However, an argument broke out during the transaction, and Sheppard shot the couple to death. The pair then drove away from the scene with the couple's car and a few undisclosed stolen items. Sheppard had a long history of violence that dated back to when he was 9 years old.
61. Tony Fry (1994-1999, lethal injection): Fry and his partner shot Leeland Jacobs, a 42 year old car salesman, while robbing his Ford Dealership. The pair tied Jacobs to a car they stole while he was still alive, and dragged him to death.
62. George Quesinberry Jr. (1989-1999, lethal injection): Quesinberry shot 63 year old Thomas Haynes while breaking into his office with an accomplice. When Haynes survived the initial shooting, Quesinberry hit him in the head with the gun and fractured his skull. The pair stole a total of $200 in the robbery.
63. David Fisher (~1970s(?)-1999, lethal injection): Fisher was paid $7,000 by an associate to kill 18 year old David Wilkey in retaliation for abandoning a murder scheme. Originally, Wilkey was part of a conspiracy to seduce and marry a young woman in order to kill her for an insurance policy, but backed out when he genuinely fell in love with the would be victim. He was tricked into going on a hunting trip with Fisher and shot to death by him. Fisher had 25 previous criminal convictions and was involved with organized crime. He was in the witness protection program at the time of Wilkey’s murder.
64. Carl Chichester (1991-1999, lethal injection): During a holdup of a Little Caesars, Chichester shot and killed the manager, 30 year old Timothy Rigney, for refusing to open the cash register. He and his two accomplices ran off with a total of $110.
65. Arthur Jenkins III (1991-1999, lethal injection): Jenkins and his teenage brother shot and killed their uncle, 72 year old Floyd, and their uncle's friend, 69 year old Lee Brinklow. They then stole their wallets and sacked Floyd's home for any money and valuables.
66. Eric Payne (~1980s-1999, lethal injection): Payne broke into the residences of two women, 61 year old Ruth Parham and 57 year old Sally Fazio, and raped them. Both women were beaten to death with a hammer, and he took money from their drawers and pocket books. He had a history of drug possessions and exposing himself to women.
67. Ronald Yeatts (1989-1999, lethal injection): Yeatts and an accomplice invaded 70 year old Ruby Dodson's home and stabbed her to death. The pair grabbed her purse during the burglary and divided up the money they found in it.
68. Tommy Strickler (1989-1999, lethal injection): Strickler and his partner kidnapped 19 year old Leann Whitlock from a mall and crushed her head with a 70 pound boulder. Whitlock's car and credit cards were stolen during the attack.
69. Marlon Williams (~1980s(?)-1999, lethal injection): Williams was paid $4,000 to murder 44 year old Helen Bedsole by his dealer, who was also her estranged husband. The couple were in the midst of a bitter divorce at the time, and the dealer wanted to both collect a life insurance policy and prevent Helen from dividing up their assets. He suck into the couple’s home, and shot and killed Helen in the kitchen. Williams had an extensive criminal history, which included cutting the throat of his ex girlfriend’s grandmother, 71 year old Virgina Parker, during a bungled attempt on her life.
70. Everett Mueller (1990-1999, lethal injection): 10 year old Charity Powers was dropped off at a skating ring by her mother. She was supposed to be picked up by her mother's friend, but they didn't show up due to failing asleep in their home. While Powers was waiting outside the ring in vain for her ride, she was abducted by Mueller. He raped the girl, slashed her throat, and dumped the body in a nearby forest.
71. Jason Joseph (1992-1999, lethal injection): While robbing a Subway with an accomplice, Joseph shot and killed one of the clerks, 22 year old Jeffrey Anderson.
72. Thomas Royal Jr. (~1991-1999, lethal injection): Royal and 3 other gang members fatally shot a police officer, 29 year old Kenneth Wallace, while he was sitting in his patrol car. Wallace was killed as part of the gang's campaign to target law enforcement agents. Royal and his fellow gang members were also suspected in the shooting of James Smith Jr. (age unknown), a Vietnam veteran, outside his trailer, but the charges were dropped from the lack of sufficient evidence.
73. Andre Graham (~1993-1999, lethal injection): Graham assisted the above mentioned Mark Sheppard in the Rosenbluth murders. He also shot and killed a waitress, 20 year old Sheryl Stack, and injured a 23 year old man while robbing a restaurant on his own, and is suspected in a total of 10 murders.
74. Douglas Thomas (1990-2000, lethal injection): The parents of Thomas' 14 year old girlfriend, 33 year old James and 33 year Kathy Wiseman, barred her from seeing him. In a bid to continue their relationship, Thomas and his girlfriend shot them to death in their home.
75. Steve Roach (1993-2000, lethal injection): Roach shot and killed 70 year old Mary Hughes on her doorstep and stole her credit card. He was caught on tape trying to use Hughes' stolen cards to pull money out of an ATM machine in North Carolina.
76. Lonnie Weeks Jr. (1993-2000, lethal injection): Weeks was pulled over by a state trooper, 50 year old Jose Cavazos, for speeding while driving a stolen car. In the confrontation that followed, he shot Cavazos dead after climbing out of the car, and fled the scene. He was captured hiding in a nearby motel after an hour long manhunt.
77. Michael Clagett (1994-2000, electric chair): Clagett's girlfriend was fired from her job as a hotel waitress by the management, and the couple decided to retaliate by robing the establishment. They shot and killed the owner Lam Van Son, a 41 year old Vietnamese refugee, a waitress, 31 year old Karen Rounds, two other employees, 31 year old Karen Rounds and 32 year old Wendell Parish Jr., and a customer Abdelaziz Gren, a 34 year old Moroccan immigrant, and took $400 in cash from the register. Van Son’s 3 year old son was sleeping in the backroom during the attack, but the couple left him unharmed.
78. Russel Burket (1993-2000, lethal injection): Burket snuck into the home of 30 year old Katherine Tafelski while her Navy SEALs husband was deployed overseas, and sexually assaulted her. Katherine and her 5 year old daughter Ashley were both beaten to death with a "rusty" crowbar.
79. Derek Barnabei (1993-2000, lethal injection): Barnabei seduced a fellow Old Dominion University student, 17 year old Sarah Wisnosky, into a relationship with him and kidnapped her. She was raped, partially strangled, beaten to death with a hammer, and dumped into a river near campus grounds. Due to him being of Italian ancestry, his death sentence and execution sparked outrage in Italy.
80. Bobby Ramdass (1992-2000, lethal injection): Ramdass was condemned for the shooting death of Mohammed Kayani, a 34 year old Pakistani immigrant working as a clerk, during a convenience store robbery. He also shot dead 19 year old Darrell Ferguson in an alley and wounded a cab driver in other robberies.
81. Christopher Goins (1994-2000, lethal injection): Goins broke into the home of his 14 year old girlfriend (who was 7 months pregnant with his child). He shot and killed her parents, 35 year old James and 29 year old Daphne Jones, and her siblings, 9 year old Nicole and 4 year old David. The girlfriend and her youngest sibling, 21 month old Kenya, were also shot in the attack. Both of them survived, but the unborn child was lost in the shooting.
82. Thomas Akers (1998-2001, lethal injection): Akers and his accomplice were driving with their friend, 24 year old Wesley Smith. When they pulled over on a road to urinate, they pounced on Smith. In the attack, he was strangled with a belt and beaten to death with a baseball bat. They pair then grabbed $200 from his wallet and dumped his body in a creek. While on death row, Akers demanded his execution and made threats against the judge who sentenced him if it wasn't carried out.
83. Christopher Beck (1995-2001, lethal injection): Out of anger for being fired, Beck invaded the house of his former employer, 52 year old William Miller. He waited for him and his two roommates, 54 year old Florence Marks and 34 year old David Kaplan, to return home and shot and stabbed them all to death. Marks was also raped in the attack. Although Beck claimed that he "only" staged a sexual assault on her, a medical examination confirmed that she was abused in that manner. Beck stole several guns, bicycles, and money in the robbery.
84. James Patterson (1987-2002, lethal injection): Patterson held his friend's mother, 56 year old Joyce Aldridge, in her home at knifepoint. Enraged that she only had a few coins in her purse, he raped Aldridge, stabbed her 3 times, and left her to die. When Aldridge managed to crawl to a phone to call her son for help, Patterson returned and stabbed her 14 more times. Although Aldridge's murder was left unsolved for years, Patterson was later imprisoned for raping an 18 year old girl, and DNA found at the murder was traced to his samples filed in the inmate database in 2000.
85. Daniel Zirkle (1999-2002, lethal injection): Zirkle's girlfriend broke off their relationship due to his violent behavior and filed protective orders against him. He was arrested for violating them and sentenced to a few months in jail. After his release, Zirkle went to his ex girlfriend's home without her permission to visit their daughter, 4 year old Christina. However, the ex girlfriend's other daughter, 14 year old Jessica Shifflett, blocked him from coming inside. He stabbed her to death and kidnapped Christina. He then drove Christina to the George Washington National Forest, slit her throat, and stabbed himself in a failed suicide attempt.
86. Walter Mickens Jr. (~1974-2002, lethal injection): Mickens ambushed and sodomized 17 year old Timothy Hall, and stabbed him 143 times. He stripped the boy of nearly all of his clothing, and left him to die in an abandoned apartment. A long time sexual predator and career criminal, Mickens had several robbery and sodomy convictions dating back to the 70s. One of his previous incidents involved breaking into an elementary school, and coercing a teacher of her purse by threatening the life of a 7 year old student. He also had a conviction for sexually assaulting a cellmate.
87. Aimal Kasi (1993-2002, lethal injection): In his efforts to fight against American foreign policy regarding Islamic nations, Kasi attacked the Langley CIA headquarters with a Type 56 assault rifle. He shot dead 2 CIA employees, 66 year old Lansing Bennett and 28 year old Frank Darling, and wounded 3 others. Kasi then fled to Afghanistan, but was lured into his native Pakistan to be captured in a joint FBI-CIA led operation, and extradited back to the United States to face trial.
88. Earl Bramblett (~1970s(?)-2003, electric chair): Bramblett had molested 11 year old Winter Hodges and feared that her parents, 41 year old William and 37 year old Teresa, were planning on reporting him to the police. In an attempt to prevent that from happening, he attacked the family in their home. Teresa was strangled, while William, Winter, and another daughter, 3 year old Anah, were shot dead. Bramblett then set the house on fire to destroy any evidence of the murders. He had several abuse allegations and was also suspected in the 1977 disappearances of two 14 year old girls, Tammy Akers and Angela Rader, that worked for him, but was never charged for any of them.
89. Bobby Swisher (1997-2003, lethal injection): Swisher abducted 22 year old Dawn Snyder from her flower shop at knife point and raped her. He slashed Snyder's throat and dumped her into a nearby river. Despite managing to swim back to shore, Snyder succumbed to her injuries on the river bank.
90. Brian Cherrix (1994-2004, lethal injection): Cherrix ambushed 23 year old Tessa Van Hart while she was trying to deliver a pizza. He sodomized and shot Van Hart twice in the head, and left the body in her car. The crime was left unsolved until Cherrix was arrested for shooting and wounded his brother two years later. In an attempt to secure leniency, Cherrix disclosed some details of Van Hart's murder, but tried pinning it on a deceased cousin. He only confessed when investigators learned that the cousin couldn't have possibly done it.
91. Dennis Orbe (1998-2004, lethal injection): Orbe fatally shot Richard Burnett, a 39 year old clerk, while robbing a grocery store, and seized $90 from the register.
92. Mark Bailey (1998-2004, lethal injection): Bailey shot and killed his wife, 22 year old Katherine, and their 2 year old son, Nathan, while they were laying in bed. He claimed to investigators that the murders were done out of anger for Katherine's alleged infidelity.
93. James Hudson (2002-2004, lethal injection): In a feud over a driveway, Hudson broke into the home of the Cole family (consisting of brothers, 64 year old Thomas and 56 year old Walter, and Thomas' wife, 64 year old Patsy) to confront them with a shotgun. He shot all three of the Coles dead and drove away from the scene. Hudson was captured after nearly a day long manhunt.
94. James Reid (1996-2004, lethal injection): Reid stabbed 87 year old Annie Lester 22 times with a pair of scissors, beat her with a can of milk, and strangled her with the cord of a heating pad. He left the body in her bedroom and fled her house. Although the evidence for his guilt was overwhelming (which included the blood on his clothes matched Lester's DNA, several of his fingerprints were discovered on the murder weapons, samples of his saliva were found on a cigarette butt in her house, and his handwriting was identical to the writing of a death threat sent to Lester), Reid's death sentence and execution was contested on the grounds of him allegedly having brain damage from a car accident, seizures, and alcoholism. The motivations behind Lester's murder remain unknown, but prosecutors suspected that it might have been part of a bungled robbery or rape attempt.
95. Dexter Vinson (1997-2006, lethal injection): Vinson attacked his ex girlfriend, 25 year old Angela Felton, near her home. Felton tried to escape by driving away, but he rammed her car with his, and forced her inside it. She was then dragged into a vacant house, raped, beaten, and stabbed in the face, neck, arms, buttocks, stomach, and vagina. The body was left in the house as Vinson fled the scene.
96. Brandon Hedrick (1997-2006, electric chair): Hendrick kidnapped a sex worker, 23 year old Lisa Crider, while he was cruising for prostitutes. Initially, Crider and Hendrick had engaged in paid consensual relations, but the situation turned violent when he robbed her of $50 at gunpoint. She was then raped, shot in the face, and dumped into a river.
97. Michael Lenz (~1990s-2006, lethal injection): While serving 29 years for a burglary and weapons possession conviction, Lenz stabbed a fellow inmate, 41 year old Brent Parker, to death. Both were part of a Nordic Neopaganism sect, and the killing was committed over Parker allegedly not expressing enough devotion to their deities. Parker was serving a life sentence for killing a friend during a drunken rage at the time of his own murder.
98. John Schmitt (1999-2006, lethal injection): During a holdup of a bank, Schmitt shot and killed the guard, 39 year old Shelton Dunning, and took $35,000 from the vaults.
99. Kevin Green (1998-2008, lethal injection): Green and his teenage nephew stormed a convenience store, and forced the owners, 68 year old Lawrence Vaughan and his wife, 53 year old Patricia, to hand over $9,000 in cash. They then shot the couple, killing Patricia and wounding Lawrence.
100. Robert Yarbrough (1997-2008, lethal injection): Yarbrough and his accomplice tied up 77 year old Cyril Hamby while robbing his grocery store. They subjected Hamby to beatings and nearly decapitated him with a pocket knife. The pair then stole beer, wine, cigarettes, and an undisclosed amount of money.
101. Kent Jackson (2000-2008, lethal injection): Jackson and an accomplice attacked 79 year old Beulah Kaiser in her apartment, and raped her. She was stabbed several times in the neck, beaten, and her cane was shoved down her throat after she was anally penetrated with it. A cigarette butt found at the crime scene was traced to the pair.
102. Christopher Emmett (2001-2008, lethal injection): Emmett was staying at a motel room with a coworker, 43 year old John Langley, while they were working on an out of town roofing job. The pair played cards until Langley went to bed. As he slept, Emmett bludgeoned him to death with a lamp, and stole $100 from his wallet. He used the stolen money to buy crack cocaine.
103. Edward Bell (~1990s-2008, lethal injection): While running away from officers trying to arrest him for a parole violation, Bell shot and killed one of his pursers, 32 year old Sergeant Ricky Timbrook. Bell had a long criminal record, which included several felony and misdemeanor convictions of assault, burglary, carrying conceal weapons, and was found to have stolen a car during the investigations of Timbrook's murder.
104. John Muhammad (~1999-2008, lethal injection): The so called “D.C. Sniper”, Muhammad shot and killed 17 random people between the ages of 21-76 with the help of a teenage accomplice in mostly sniper attacks. The killings took place in the national capital, hence the epithet, and across several states. Due to his affiliation with the Nation of Islam and the accomplice’s accounts of planning terrorist attacks and training camps, Muhammad’s murder spree are often considered to be acts of Islamic extremism in the media. However, experts believe that his real intentions was to kill his estranged wife using the sniper attacks as a mask. Muhammad had a long history of domestic violence, and had abducted his children from his estranged wife on numerous occasions. His accomplice had also accused him of sexual abuse a few years after his execution.
105. Larry Elliott (2001-2008, electric chair): Elliott, a former military counterintelligence agent, was in an online "sugar daddy" relationship with a much younger woman. At the woman's request, Elliott sent her over $450,000, which she used to pay for a home, credit card, car, breast enhancement surgery, and enrolling her children in a private school. The woman was also involved with a bitter custody dispute with her children's father, 30 year old Robert Finch. In an attempt to win the woman's devotion, Elliott shot and killed Finch in his home, and beat Finch's girlfriend, 25 year old Dana Thrall, to death with the butt of his gun.
106. Paul Powell (1999-2010, electric chair): Angry that his friend, 16 year old Stacie Reed, was in an interracial relationship, Powell made an attempt to rape her in her home. When she fought back, Powell stabbed her to death. He also tied up Stacie's 14 year old sister to be raped, stabbed, and strangled, and left the girl to die in the family's basement. The sister managed to survive with the timely arrival of their stepfather, who called the police and the paramedics to the scene. On the mistaken belief that the death penalty was off the table, Powell sent letters flaunting the lewd details of the murder to taunt the prosecutors, judge, and the victims’ family.
107. Darick Walker (~1996-2010, lethal injection): In 1996, Walker walked up to the door of 36 year old Stanley Beale, and angrily accused him of showing up at his home despite the fact that they were complete strangers. He then shot Beale dead in front of his children and girlfriend, and ran away from the scene. A year later, Walker forced himself into an apartment, and shot 34 year old Clarence Threat seven times while he was laying in bed with his girlfriend. Walker had a history of violence and frequently stole from his friends and family. In one reported incident, he kicked the stomach of a pregnant woman in an act of rage.
108. Teresa Lewis (2002-2010, lethal injection): Lewis conspired with two men that she had a sexual relationship with to kill her husband, 51 year old Julian, and her stepson, 25 year old Charles. Charles was about to be deployed to participate in the then upcoming invasion of Iraq, which gave him a $250,000 life insurance policy that Lewis wanted to collect from both him and his father. She let her accomplices inside their trailer, and shot Julian and Charles while they were sleeping. Charles was killed immediately, while Julian, who witnessed Lewis pay the attackers, survived long enough to notify the responders of his wife's involvement.
109. Jerry Jackson (2001-2011, lethal injection): Jackson broke into the apartment of 88 year old Ruth Phillips, and woke her up while he was rummaging through her room. Despite Phillips' pleas for her life, Jackson raped her and suffocated her to death with a pillow. He stole her car and a total of $60 in the break in, and spent the stolen money on marijuana.
110. Robert Gleason (2007+(?)-2013, electric chair): In 2007, Gleason shot and killed 54 year old Michael Jamerson, in order to prevent him from testifying about his drug trafficking activities, and was given a life sentence for the murder. While incarcerated, he tied up and strangled his cellmate, 63 year old Harvey Watson (who serving a life sentence for a mass shooting). Prison officials then transferred him to a high security prison to await trial for Watson’s murder, but he managed to strangle another inmate, 26 year old Aaron Cooper (who was serving 34 years for robbery), to death with the wire that separated their cages. Gleason demanded the death penalty, which was given to him by the courts. He also claimed that he committed several other killings before Jamerson, but his additional confessions currently remain unverifiable.
111. Alfredo Prieto (~1984-2015, lethal injection): Prieto was both a serial killer of young women and a member of the Pomona Northside street gang. His sexual crimes involved the abductions, rapes, and shooting deaths of at least 4 females, 24 year old Tina Jefferson, 22 year old Rachael Raver, 19 year old Stacey Siegrist, and 15 year old Yvette Woodruff. Raver and Siegrist’s partners, 22 year old Warren Fulton III and 21 year old Anthony Gianuzzi, were also murdered during their kidnappings. The other known victims, 27 year old Manuel Sermeno, and couple, 71 year old Lula and 65 year old Herbert Farley, were shot dead during robberies. In the home invasion that killed Woodruff, Prieto and his fellow gang members also abducted her 17 year old friend and the friend’s 33 year old mother. The mother and daughter pair were gang-raped, shot and stabbed together, but they managed to escape with their lives. Prieto was sentenced to death in both California and Virginia, but stayed in California’s San Quentin until his death warrant was signed in Virginia. He had also shot and injured 3 gang members over his suspicions of them sleeping with his wife, but was lightly sentenced due to the victims' gang affiliations.
112. Ricky Gray (~2005-2017, lethal injection): Gray and his similarly aged nephew murdered at least 9 people, which composed of a lone woman, 35 year old Treva Gray, and two entire families, the Harveys (consisting of parents, 49 year old Bryan and 39 year old Kathryn, and their daughters, 9 year old Stella and 4 year old Ruby), and the Baskerville-Tuckers (consisting of 21 year old Ashley, her 46 year old mother Mary, and Mary’s 55 year old husband Percyell) in a week long burglary spree. Almost all of the victims were tied up and gagged in their homes, and beaten to death with hammers or had their throats slit. Before she was killed by them with her parents, victim Ashley Baskerville had assisted Gray and his nephew in several of their robberies. The pair stole any items and valuables they could carry, and were reported to have taken money, computers, television sets, wedding rings, and even cookies. They were also linked to several non fatal assaults, one of which involved a 26 year old man being beaten into a coma.
113. William Morva (~2005-2017, lethal injection): Morva, a son of Hungarian immigrants, and an accomplice were arrested while trying rob a grocery store at gunpoint. While awaiting trial, he badly sprained his ankle and wrist in prison, and was transferred to the Montgomery Regional Hospital for treatment. He overpowered a deputy guarding him with a metal toilet-paper container, stole his gun, fatally shot Derrick McFarland, a 25 year old hospital security guard, and escaped. Morva then fled to Virginia Tech’s campus, and shot and killed 40 year old Eric Sutphin, one of the police officers chasing him.

Here's how to fix the Netherlands:

• illegalize extreme BDSM (first),
  
• legalize prostitution (already legal)
  
• especial unhackable cameras for sex-workers,
  
• the punishment for beating a woman be life sentence,
  

Extreme bdsm, as in, face-slapping, punching, anything that causes traumatic-brain-injury, concussions, (which can be detected in MRI tests for court trials), and any other permanent bodily injury.
That would make it the only place in the world where women be safe and free. The only place where:

• domestic violence is illegal (for real, not just on paper)
  
• sex-work is legal,
  
• abortion is legal.
  

To further limit domestic violence in households (not brothels), some optional things that can be implemented (which I highly advice) are:

• every registered home be laiden with unhackable ring-sig/multi-sig encrypted cameras with microphones sensitive to grid-line emf for timestampping,
  
• no court fees for women filing for domestic-violence cases (or any),
  
• no repercussions for falsely filing a case against your man (to reduce the fear of filing a case; the most that could go wrong is a mere No-Contact restrain order),
  
• if verifiably proven (as in, camera recordings, etc), suspect gets life sentence and forced labour with which the prison gets funded and the victim gets compensated,
  
• if not proven for certain, at least a restrain/no-contact order whereby the suspect cannot enter the towns/microstates the accuser happens to be in.
  
• suspicion-until-proven-not-guilty; the onus to prove one's innocence be upon the accused, the male, so men have every incentive to carry body cameras etc, to defend against false rape charges.
  
• everyone's past, past suspicions, trials, all such data, be on a website. If you can make a society safe for women, the good men would follow in like bees. Thus, catering to women's defence needs is very (Misesian) entrepreneurially advantageous. Afterall, the primary purpose of a society is DATING; keeping women safe in such dating/matchmaking game be your highest priority. There's many an evolutionarily evolved trait that keep children safe anyway, but fewer for women, especially in a non-tribal society with hookup culture wherein a psychopath has every incentive to harm/kill his date and run away. It's a surprise that that isn't more prevalent... Societies are playing with fire; they have no clue how deep in trouble they are. Reform or lose the game to psychopaths; much like the evol sexual-stretegy simulation studies on rat societies lol.
  

+++
Your current law code is lame and hypocritical; as per the current laws on racism, to highlight IQ differences between races, to emphasize empathy/psychopathy prevalence differences between racial groups, is racist! And yet, the very notion of a-law-against-racism rests on the belief that races do exist, that there's skin-coloskull-shape/genetic differences between so called "races" they aim to protect; how could the state accept that there be such differences but illegalize for such differences to be discussed and admitted? Utterly ridiculous!
Your current judicial framework is a joke. A client could beat the hell out of a prostitute (just short of killing her) and he has more-or-less legal impunity! A wife-beater gets a mere month is prison! What sense does that make? To believe that, somehow, in a closed cell, locked in for a few months, playing GTA, banging pussies (sex-therapy with prostitutes, for sex offenders; as dumb as it sounds; wouldn't be surprised if UN says the right to sex is every human's basic fundamental human right lol), free food in the prison, somehow makes a psychopath a sunflower, is beyond my comprehension. One would have to be utterly braindead to believe so. Another hypothesis: the dutch politicians and justices are NOT braindead, they're just a little too psychopathic themselves, and being so, concerned for themselves and their own future wife-beating sons. Facts.
Your king is too empathetic and naive, very like the many white people all over the globe who believe in humanity, who believe that every human is deep down a fluffy furry, and to prove so to the world (or themselves), who venture into dangerous territory in the Africas or Arabian towns, only to be lynched by the mobs (many such cases in the news)...
The dutch people who want diversity can go live in Africa or the UAE; in the name of diversity, to advocate that others be put in danger for one's own naivety, is not just foolish, but downright wrong.
The dutch people who have big hearts, who wish to help the desperate immigrants, go do so with your own money. To advocate that others' money be stolen to be donated to one group, is no philanthropy. Theft in the name of charity is just that: THEFT.
+++
To fix the Netherlands in the long run:

• do away with the laws on racism; keep only the laws against physical harm; words are words; one should only be prosecuted for actions, not threat by words, not threat to act, only action itself. At best, you could exile those deemed threatening (in the short run), but not imprison.
  
• do away with the laws against discrimination in the private sector; an entrepreneur who doesn't hire an equally talented woman/newcomeimmigrant/black for a job, would lose his revenue to the one who does; in the free market, wrong biases just aren't solvent, just aren't efficient and profitable. Such feminist equal-pay laws do more harm to women then good; no one wants to hire women anymore, especially for technical roles... Only misogynists pass such laws. Facts.
  

END WELFARE SOCIALISM:

• no free healthcare for nobody,
  
• no free housing for nobody,
  
• no state-funded pension for nobody,
  
• no child-care subsidies for nobody,
  
• etc.
  

+++
PRIVATIZE THE STATE:

• with defence (international and internal) as the only service of the state of Netherlands, privatize such an entity; privatize the Dutch Defence Agency.
  
• every citizen gets one (or ten, or thousand; whatever denomination) equal shares of the private entity Dutch Defence Agency.
  
• inhabitants of the netherlands be required to pay a head-tax, a fixed tax/payment per person, for the services of international defence (radars, nukes, anti-nukes, iron dome, etc).
  
• people be free to sell their shares in the open market. And no, it doesn't make you susceptible to foreign interference/meddling in dutch statehood, on the contrary: state-privatization flips-the-table overnight, making all one's enemies into one's extended friends. Not only is the amount of money needed to become the majority shareholder quite high, but, upon putting so much money in, (an amount of money only sensible people get to have), any sensible actor is incentivized to not mess up and keep peace in one's stock, not hijack one's earnings, and just reap the dividents. Very like the Bitcoin/Monero POW incentives for major-miner.
  
• no trade tarrifs. Trump thinks an equal trade-tax for countries which charge a trade-tax with the US, is based. It's not, but it's better than most's beliefs, so okay. But, if one is to be serious, then no, Austrian Economists would never support such a scheme, for the simplest of reasons: selfishness. If Trump (and any country) is to be selfish enough, they should realize that zero-trade-tarrifs for all countries is the thing that makes one prosper, regardless of how much they be taxing us. Mises has said it a million times: war begins when trade ends. So no trade tarrifs whatsoever. Physical/existential security be the only service and concern of a state. Leave it to the dutch people (and private source-auditing firms) to not buy goods from products sourced from child-labouRussians/whatever. The scandenavian madness of One-Family, with the president as the country's daddy, is ludicrous! People are grown ups; they can make their own decisions.
  
• replace the ill notion of democracy with shareholder democracy.
  
• the CEO/president, in power only as long as they stay popular with the state's shareholders.
  

+++
PRIVATIZE THE TOWNS:

• every town becomes a gated-community (with or without actual physical gates).
  
• every home-owner of such a town gets an equal number of shares in that community-stock (Citystate of Amsterdam, for example).
  
• dressing code (public nudity allowance), pollution/negative-externality laws (some with very strict noice-pollution laws, some lenient and affordable ones), traffic rules (bicycle exceptions, lanes, etc), architecture code and rules, all be the liberties of the city-state to decide upon.
  
• the only punishment a city-state be able to give people be: monetary fine, deducted from the prepaid lock-in fund, or, when it gets empty, eviction/exile from the city-state, free to move in to some cheaper lenient one in the Netherlands or elsewhere.
  
• no city-state could "imprison" people. A city-state which forbids abortion, cages pregnant women, preventing them from access to healthcare, would be thus unconstitutional.
  
• every city-state-resident be required to pay a policing-tax/fee; more protected towns have higher fees. Towns with more immigrants, requiring a well-funded police, for a bigger police force, to keep the people safe, would thus be more expensive, more inefficient, and it would thus only be a matter of time that the low-risk-tolerance Dutch populace segregate and buy up the city-stocks and even buy up the properties of the selling-immigrants-in-need-of-money-to-pay-their-state-tax-or-get-exiled, and vote to exile the immigrant population from their towns. All entrepreneurial. Mises knew it all in advance; he knew that the supreme notion of private-property was complete and enough, that it needed no exceptions for such immigration problems. Leftist liberals who are blindly pro-immigration shouldn't call themselves liberals; they're merely leftists, and they're wrong. In the liberal framework of private property, immigration is NEVER a problem that even needs addressing! Hail Von Mises. Ultimately, it all boils down to the entrepreneurial utilitarian benefits of lower policing costs and at a much higher safety-level that come from barring violent races from one's towns, benifits that ultimately pale the compromises in cheap-labour (that the immigrants provide) or the slightly higher shipping costs of buying such products of cheap-labour from a thousand miles afar. The idiots in the dutch parliament and the businessmen who pretend like without all this cheap labour their economy would collapse and they'd be in losses, are misguiding. Shipping costs are already low enough; the inefficiencies of slavery over willful employment and low shipping costs is what defunded slavery; you would be better off buying goods from Africa than having Africans in your own country making those goods at your doorstep. Instead, free trade cross-borders should be encouraged and cherished.
  

As for oppression and foreign wars, if you can't help a people defend their lives and territory by military and financial aid (funded from private charities), don't pretend to help by taking in refugees either, most of whom are, by the very definition of how things work, often the worst of the stock; the average good empathetic african/muslim/indian doesn't want to loot away someone's prosperous country. The good ones never even cry for help to begin with, and most of them are within your borders already: the native Dutch too afraid to express their fear of immigrants; heed to their cries and help them first instead.
+++
REFURNISH DOMESTIC SPACES:

• cameras in every registered home; totally very economical, heck, a billionaire could fund it all out of his own pocket. Mass survillience isn't a concern because it's not impossible to design a black-box encryption protocol with multi-signature encryptions which can only be decoded if all the parties (you, your wife, and the state) provide their keys to decode the video feed. Zero-knowledge-sharing sorcerry whereby keys don't get disclosed to any party either.
  
• the right to discriminate. It's the home-owner's right to dictate who gets to visit inside and who doesn't, whether he/she discriminates on the basis of skin colour or hair colour. In fact, the right to discriminate is as important as the right to free speech, and mutually dependent on each other. One has every right to discriminate who one marries based purely on their race! One has every right to befriend people based on their race. And so does an employer when hiring. To say otherwise and pass anti-discrimination laws is no less discriminatory; just discriminatory in a certain cunning state-sponsered way, for a select few's advantage. An argument can be made that, given how many white women only date big black guys, such anti-discrimination laws would hurt them so-called minorities as much, if not more.
  
• corporal punishment of children (or women/men) be illegal.
  
• no-caging law. One cannot cage someone in one's house without their consent. So, husband denying wife her freedom to abort be first degree violence, no different from switching the button on an electric chair, or pulling the trigger of a gun.
  
• gun laws up to the private property's owner. No home owner would wany guests to carry guns inside, prolly. As for city-state's rules on gun-ownership inside households, that's a purely entrepreneurial matter:
  

fines for owning a gun, disincentivizing gun ownership, has built-in unenforcability; criminal always carries a gun (which can even be 3d printed at home these days), but overall, fewer guns in the public, so fewer rage fights becoming lethal, less money needed to manage the populace for the police, so lower tax/fee,
vs
legal to own a gun in wild spaces, illegal in private spaces (like malls, homes, schools) as per private wish, with metal checks; more guns, higher tax to manage, but ability to defend oneself from criminals carrying guns.
The latter is better imo. Those who think the former is better, can opt in and live in such city-states. What there cannot be is: a sentence for just owning a gun. Only monetary fine or eviction from the city-state; a sentence would be unconstitutional as per the theory of actions-ultimate-judgement, not words, not threats, not gun ownership, not genes, not mental disorders, only actions. There's no better simulation substitute than the real world; all else predictions are merely probabilistic, and when people get imprisoned for mere threats, such predictions are doomed to become ultimately baseless and divorced from reality.
+++
REFORM YOUR CONSTITUTION:

• Make Ludwig Von Mises your constitution's founding-grandpa. Base the code to rule by, on his magnum opus Human Action.
  
• Besides the theoretical basings, short readable constitution that's basically a consent-form that every citizen consents to; consent to be rescued when drowning, consent to be operated on by doctor when unconscious, consent to be arrested for suspicion and inquiry (?), consent to be punched when resisting arrest (which no one would sign to, so no punching people EVER, especially in the name of law enforcement).
  

The idea is, it's a matter of selecting between explicit consent (consent denied unless explicitly granted) vs implicit consent (consent granted unless explicitly revoked); the former allows for illegalizing sex with drunk/unconscious people, and even the slaughter of animals (which, though probably an unpopular take even in the Netherlands, is ultimately the right thing to do, but boy oh boy do people hate vegans, and you'd get more support for illegalizing domestic violence (from women and half the men) than you would for illegalizing slaughter, but hey, when was the popular thing ever the right thing to do lol). Even for abortion, explicit-consent-theory (consent-denied-unless-granted) supports abortion in a legal constitutional sense in that the fetus' right-to-exist is denied by default, so the host mother be free to deny its existence and act upon it by aborting.
Much like, the theoretical basing of the judiciary on illegalizing suicide/euthanasia illegalizes extreme bdsm (brain damage) too, and, extrepreneurially speaking, saves many a woman from abuse; legalized lovemaking-in-exchange-for-money but illegalized-extreme-bdsm won't move the abuse underground either, or so my judgement says, for, the poor unfortunate untalented women would have plenty of monetary opportunity in the white sex market, and no such woman would want to go to the underground black market to make money off of her own possible murder; what use is such money if one's dead or braindead; upon a concussion, one's never the same again, one stops enjoying the things one once enjoyed, so the money earned thusly would be a waste too. Then again, I'm guessing you aren't interested in the theoretical philosophical and risk-assessment ideas behind this all, so won't bother with that.
+++
REFORM THE JUDICIARY:

• base the law code away from the fraudulent brain-dead notion of justice; 'cause, there really is no such thing as justice, as putting someone in their victim's shoes, tit for tat; a psycho could never know how it feels to have his tits cut off, for he doesn't have any to begin with! Even within the same gender, people are different, their ages are different. The earth is always moving through space, never in the same place twice; we're moving through time. It's just impossible to simulate being in another's shoes here on Earth (ignoring the NDE life-reviews in the afterlife lol); it's physically impossible.
  
• base the law code away from the fraudulent notion of punishment. Being in a prison, getting free food, is no punishment. Some loners might even enjoy it. Heck, Israeli women released from prison choose to commit petty crimes (like breaking the window of the police vehicle) just to get back in the prison. Prison is often far safer a place, and many feel comfy down there. Heck, even the Singaporean judicial caning is some people's most craved fantasy. Heck, extreme masochists would, rather than finding a psycho, paying them to chop their hands off, then making sure the other person doesn't get prosecuted, find it more effortless, cheaper, more realistic, to rob a bank then get their hands chopped off by the Sharia law enforcers! So really, there's no such thing as a just punishment, cause there's no such thing as a punishment to begin with!
  
• base the law code on the two pillars of PREVENTION and COMPENSATION;
  
• life sentence for violent people (be it, slapping/punching/stabbing/murdering), to PREVENT it from happening again, to PREVENT the society from such actors;
  
• compensation for the victim, proportional to the harm caused, funded by the victimizer's money and forced labour in the prison. Come up with an entrepreneurial figure, 50%, ish, portion of the inmate's income (remote working from the prison), which goes to the victim for compensation. Too high that portion and the inmate might lose the drive to work/be-productive. Psychopathy atrophies over generations when its evolutionarily advantageous opportunities cease to be. Rightful compensation tilts the trade-offs in good people's favour.
  
• Proportional compensation. When a man slaps a woman, the damage is a hundread times worse than when a woman slaps a man, and ten times worse than when the same gender slaps the same gender. Not only are men's hands bigger and arms more muscular, but also women's skulls are thinner and more susceptible to concussing. So such laws are not sexist; they're just. This notion called equality has been a menace for women, second only to neo-feminism that advocates fiddling with the free market.
  
• Inside prison, with their own earned money, inmates be free to buy TV, stereo, air-conditioning, king-size bed, whatever.
  
• ONLY for violent crimes does one be sent to prison, and once sent, to never return.
  
• for financial crimes, one be made an economic slave; losing one's 50% income to the victims of one's fraud/whatever. Economic slaves, which, most europeans paying 50% in taxes (and getting back close to nothing in return, thanks to states, by nature, being so inefficient with money), kinda already are, lol.
  

+++
REFORM THE CAPITAL MARKET:

• Do away with Limited-Liability. The idiots who call themselves climate activists who think capitalism is the enemy, are just that: idiots. The Koala escaping from wildfire gets comfort in the air-conditioned room that every household today can afford; none of this would be there if it weren't for capitalism. People get to feed and care for millions of stray animals; none of this would be possible without capitalism. Morality, especially charity, is a luxury commodity; something socialists don't get to enjoy. But the fact is, these so called climate activists don't care about animals, don't care about trees, all they care about is this molecule called Carbon Dioxide, because they're stupid, or wose, tesla-fanatics.
  
• Replace Limited-Liability with Full-Liability. If Nestle poisons a village or sells lead-laiden food products, or commits a murder, the ones responsible for the violent actions first-hand be convicted of first-degree physical harm, and the shareholders be convicted of third-degree harm, and be made to compensate the victims, whether that requires seizing all their assets (and those of the company) or making them economic slaves for the rest of their lives. Fact is, it is the duty and moral obligation of a shareholder to watch for the actions of the company; negligence, inaction, their primary sin. Buying is supporting; Bill Gates is a moron for being an investor in Monsanto.
  

There be basically, degrees of freedom:

• freest citizens
  
• economic slaves (losing half their income to victim-compensation),
  
• prison inmates (who have compensated fully, now buying luxury goods and mansions in the prison island),
  
• prison slaves (losing half their income to victim-compensation),
  
• tied prison slaves (who have anger issues, so be somewhat elbow-restrained to prevent them from being violent toward other inmates),
  
• solitary-confinement prison slaves (zero reason to do so, yet, Japan does it all the time). Prisoners should be free to socialize, bond together, share a cell together, and these things don't increase the risks of prison-escape either.
  

Ultimately, life's purpose is to just live, make experiences, form memories, and learn some lessons. Death penalty is just wrong; so is solitary confinement when so many mechanisms exist to prevent violence among inmates via boxing-gloves-handcuffs, teeth-covers, and elbow and knee restrains.
+++
REFORM THE POLICE:

• No impunity for cops. Cops be help liable for their actions, liable to the law. In fact, more liable.
  
• Learn from Prince Machiavelli lol; embrace some Game Theory. Legalize and grant moral impunity to cops who shoot down fellow cops abusing people wrongfully.
  

Those who think police reforms will never work are stupid; one lone man could make his men commit the organized genocide of 6 million, against the empathetic impulses of the men themselves, and they're saying, well-behaved police is impossible to have? What nonsense! Truth is, the powers that be are utterly inept or themselves psychopathic and fap to the videos of police officers punching women in the face for cursing them. Because the matter of fact is, one needs neither the right kind of people, nor the majority power, to commit acts of good or evil; just a good grip on whatever little power one has. Such a shame that literally no ruler alive knows how to rule.

• Cops be free to arrest fellow cops for misconduct.
  
• Cops (and others) be free to report such psychopathic cops.
  
• Samaritan protection laws. It be legal for strangers to beat a wife-beater beating his wife in public, or even, to shoot at a cop abusing someone when making arrest. Maybe even rewarding, in that, when imprisoned and compensated, the victim is free to pass on some share of her compensations to her savious who risked their well-being to save her.
  

In fact, no sociologist worth his salt would deny that women were safer and more protected from psychopaths and better off ten thousand years ago than in today's anonomyous mega societies; something even Ted Bundy alluded to. Sex as payments in ancient times lol, and David Friedman even hypothesizes that that's how and why women evolved concealed ovulation lol.

• for crimes like traffic law violation, no arresting and car-chases; the said person be sent a notice to appear in a court all by themself instead.
  
• city-state's domestic-law-enforcing cops be split into two teams:
  
• benign cops should not carry guns, instead, be wearing funny-looking non-intimidating bulletproof body suit and helmet and be carrying mancatchers, handcuffs, legcuffs; autistic people or psychopathic people never be hired, only those with very sharp social skills, and be trained to read social cues, to be funny, to crack jokes, make people laugh, break fights peacefully, or, as a last resort, arrest, but with dignity, never insulting the arrested, never judging, and be carrying those arrested on a bed instead of making them walk with their hands cuffed, which could be dangerous for drunk drivers, old people with arm pain, etc.
  
• gun-violence-control cops carry guns, but should only be deployed for gun-violence, wherein they might have to shoot (tranquilizers or bullets) to neutralize a gun-weilding madman.
  

Giving people unrestricted licence to kill is dangerous. No cops are better than bad cops. Just like no laws are better than bad laws whereby the average woman acting in self-defence gets sentenced to 20 years for killing her man, while a (drunk) man killing his wife gets 2 years. And that's a fact; women get five times longer sentences for homocide than men, in the US. And the average sentence for proven domestic violence cases is: a few weeks behind bars, with the possibility of parole and bail. Talk about feminism running rampant.
Some entrepreneurial suggessions:

• half the cops' income be locked in a conditional account, sorta a pension fund, which they lose entirely if they commit a crime on duty. Afterall, cops are petty puppet people too, who can be controlled by money just as neatly as any other.
  
• of the remaining half, half be conditional on the basis of being useful. Lazy cops who do nothing don't get that, and his employer be loosing more (from his allowance package; the more savings, the more his/her bonus) by design too, by hiring more useless cops without as much of a need in a neighbourhood. For making false arrests, arresting innocent people without reason, the cop be fined and the fine be handed to the person arrested wrongfully.
  
• like in Georgia, for misconduct (groping women, etc) or for taking bribes, the whole batch and the batch-leader (employer; sergent; whatever) be fired. Thus, sergents have every incentive to check for psychopathy (MRI tests, whatever), past history, beforehand, when hiring a cop.
  

+++
EDUCATE CHILDREN:

• corporal punishment be illegal,
  
• children who can pass language/literature test be full acting citizens, free to buy shares and vote in shareholder meetings,
  
• exploiting the power of the default to fiddle in the free-market of dating, for women's advantage. Why? Entrepreneurial: good laws that make women feel safe attract a surplus of rich happy attractive women who attract rich nice men (which need less police to manage), which means more population, lower expenses, higher dividents for the shareholders of the state!
  
• by default, for impregnating someone, whether they go through labour pain or lesser abortion pain, the guy be liable for a payment of 100k to her. [Vasectomies incentivized over pills, traumatic IUDs, fallopian-tying, all of which are unhealthy.]. Regarding science, though paternity tests and gene-sequencings are a blessing, IVF is a curse, and a woman could use a guy's skin dust for gametogenesis via stem-cell technology and impregnate herself with such artificial cum and the jury wouldn't know... Big gray zone.
  
• the mother gets the custody of the baby, always. Up to her to give up the custody to him or someone else if she feels so.
  
• artificial wombs be fully legal. It's utter pure hypocracy to advocate against external human-fetus-growth in labs past 7 days, in a world where slaughtering full grown animals, hunting them for fun, killing even SUPERIOR animals like Orcas, their entire families, baiting their mothers with their baby-whale tied in a fishing-net, is all legal. Artificial wombs are already fully viable, there's no scientific hurdle preventing them from being deployed, only legal. Regardless, for logistical reasons, I can bet many countries would be more than happy to adopt such technology in a decade. Only a matter of time.
  
• though every child deserves a female mother for none can love one like a woman does, it's something for culture to enforce and normalize, and for self-conscience to make gay couples consider a nanny/3rd-partner, not legal interventions.
  
• baby becomes an acting individual upon 3 years old, or whenever he can speak/read/write fluently and pass language tests, and has to read and sign the constitution or face eviction lol. Prodigies thus at an advantage in the money game 'cus they can start investing early on, unlike the current one which renders races which sexually mature before or at the legal age of 18 at an advantage over those who mature much later. Lol nevermind.
  
• up until the baby becomes an actor, animal-protection laws (or more specifically, pet-protection) laws should apply on the baby: no violence, no murder, unless in self-defence (i.e., almost never), no medical negligence, no abandoning the baby. For medical negligence or abandoning the baby, no sentencing, only blacklisting the said caretaker from future reproductive baby-care, so not allowed in kindergartens, schools, baby-spaces, and genetically blacklisted.
  
• criminals in prison should get genetically blacklisted. Eugenics is not a bad idea; it's the state that should stay out of it, except for the clensing of criminal genes. A criminal's entire descending-tree shuld get blacklisted; said violent criminal's children either get sterilized or promise to not procreate or get evicted. Gene banks be legal; culture should normalize borrowing the genes of (jewish/dutch) geniuses and raising their babies via IVF.
  

The selfish man doesn't have sex; he clones.
Why mix your genes with someone so different, of the opposite sex, despite being better than oneself. The fact that people have sex and choose good pretty intelligent partners unrelated to themselves, when compounded, is the same as adopting pure Jewish babies. Even Jews are distant cousins to all anyway. Heck, adopt orcas. Either black or white; clones or orcas; ignoring clone mutations (7 mutations per generation, I think), the latter, survival of the group over oneself, is a better strategy and thus more selfish a strategy, whereas the former is doomed to fail, at least for humans, and is only seen in ants which can afford a thousand kids and an epic one-in-a-thousand style selection pressures. Even if that's how superior alien societies operate, even in the latter case, most (worker ants) be raising the royal princes/princesses anyway; raising the babies of mathematical geniuses is not that different. Gene banking (positive eugenics) would speed evolution exponenetially!

• child-care payments. By default, the guy be liable to maternal-care payments to the mother.
  
• state-ensured child-care and pregnancy-payments to the mother. Even if the guy defaults/can't-pay, the state pays the mother and the state extorts the due from the guy in private/court. Mother always gets paid. Guy thus has no grudges against the mother, only the state. Such an arrangement reduces the chances of domestic or hate/revenge violence against the mother.
  
• prenups can be used to sway away from this defaults and arrange for custom scenarios.
  
• full liability for the baby/pet's actions. If your pet/baby hurts someone seriously, you be liable for full monetary compensation and economic slavery; you also lose your pet/baby-keeping licence.
  
• no impunity for acting children (post 3 years of age who have passed the tests) for commiting crimes. Schools should only accept acting-children, not babies. If your child punches another child on the head in school, he gets tried as an adult acting actor. Incentivizes parents to inculcate values of conviction to non-violence in their kids, if they wish to send them to schools and public places. If your babies are violent, postpone the language-comprehension test and constitution-signing and keep them at home; don't put other's kids at risk. American schools are a hellscape. Not only is segregation in schools outlawed, kids have legal impunity, so of course, (black) psycho bullies roam free and abound.
  
• full head-tax per baby. From day 1.
  

+++
DO AWAY WITH SOCIAL SECURITY:

• Instead, private insurance companies can replace most of the services of social-security.
  
• An insurance package of 100k, insurance against homeless, whereby, once deposited, the company invests it in long term assets, compounds it with every passing day, and should one become bankrupt, one should be able to use such a Social-Security-Number to buy rent of up to 20$/day, food up to 10$/meal, three meals a day, for as long as one lives. Or pooled insurance based on average bankrupcy risk statistics, for much lower premium.
  
• Likewise, health insurance, bough from private insurance companies.
  
• For babies, an insurance package of orphan-insurance, so, should the parents die in a car crash or whatever, the insurance company pays its head-tax, pays for its orphanage fee, its schooling and medical expenses, etc.
  
• No, none, zero, nil whatsoever, restrictions/laws/rules on insurance companies. Hans Herman Hoppe is right on how messy and ridiculous the laws have made the insurance market into. Of course, if an insurance company defaults on its promises, it, like with all Full Liability Companies, should get scavenged along with its shareholders. But other than that, no forcing inclusion of fringe groups in insurance pools over such insurance companies.
  

+++
TRANS-CONTINENTAL COLONY

• bribe some local leader and arrange for a colony in Africa whereupon to dump those unable to pay the taxes (the poor immigrants, for the most part; the dutch poor can be saved by private charities funding their head-tax) and those barred from dutch city-states (non-dutch).
  
• in the long run, deport them to whichever country they be willing to go, whichever be willing to accept them.
  

+++
That's it. And just like that, you'd have fixed the Netherlands, and, the world being a mere copycat mirror-complex of stupid politicians (except Wilders) unable to think for themselves, only learning from other's experiences, very like the trickling down of monarchies after the French Revolution like a domino falls, just like that, you'd possibly have fixed the whole world! If the world sees from the Dutch exemplary example of privatization of statehood and follows suit, that would singlehandedly save humanity from poverty (socialism), war (tradelessness), and immorality (dictatorships like in Iran where morality police kills girls who don't wear proper dresses). The Dutch were the example of free-trade and privatization once before, they can do it again too.
Geert Wilders is the only hope.
Milei, being so totally anti-abortion, is an utter disgrace in the name of an Austrian Liberal; should have been aborted before he was even born.
Mises was, is, and forever will be, PRO-CHOICE.
That's right, I just said it. And any liberals who are pro-life are fake liberals who pretend to be liberals but are at the core, braindead or worse, psychopaths.
Nicholas Sarwark doesn't talk about abortion (to stay nice to both groups, when actually, that just makes him an idiot who'd get votes from neither unless he takes a stance; classic demogogue),
Ron Paul is very very against abortion too, his whole lineage sucks,
Justin Amash outright opposes it,
it's so funny, cause, Mises, Ludwig Von Mises, the guy he so likes to quote, himself was very pro-choice, and said the process of becoming sentient, becoming a consenting individual of the society, is "gradual", doesn't happen overnight, that a fetus is not the same as an adult, and above all, was a UTILITARIAN who believed in family-planning at the family-level as per the family's economic potential and incentives and time-preference, who vouched against state-sponsered eugenics and child-subsidies as population control measures, who believed in women being more of an acting being, was the champion of economic freedom for women, who in his own personal life recognized the entrepreneurial value bargain in prefering these talented undervalued women, who was the biggest feminist and women's liberator in the history of manking (equal contestent with Morgentaler, another Jew)! Amash's (and others') preaching Mises wholly, saying that their views are practically indistinguishable from Mises's, then opposing abortion, is like killing people "in the name of God the creator"; it's pure blasphemy, heck, worse than that, for Mises is above God, and these false preachers shall be judged harshly by Mises' immortal spirit. *inhales lol.
Not all races are equal. Sexual and survival stretegies dictate the differences. The muslims have been murdering the intelligent (dissident/scientific) and beautiful (emo boys/girls) among themselves for more than a millenia; no wonder they've gotten so retarded. The Chinese are apathetic people, bred to obey, war, and kill, without remorse; free-thinking pricipled dissidents all but extinct among them. Evolutionary psychologists who think that war is good for the genes are idiots; sure, war is good for genes, but peace is better. Heck, EVERYTHING is good for the genes. The genes are set on a track to evolve forwards, and they'd only do so, and abominations like Islam are mere incidental dips in a more or less upward-rising curve. The least-warring greeks were the most feminist, the highest longevity-people, the most nicest, until war struck Europe too.
The Dutch are one of the best races in the world, second only to the Jews who have significantly higher IQ, higher empathy, the lowest domestic violence and physical violence rates, and the cleanest past history (never practiced witchhunts, and despite brutal punishments legal in Judiasm, never practiced them; it's like, despite judiasm, the Jews never gave in to barbarianism; such noble genes; never committed genocides), way better than the forever stained dutch history of the witchhunts which took the lives of some 300 innocent women... Still, the Dutch are better than the rest, by a huge margin. Not to mention the Dutch are the most good-looking tall handsome honest people in the whole world. Unpopular opinion but, me thinks Geert Wilders is the most handsome man ever; boy would I pay to suck his cock lol. Even an imaginary anime character better looking than Wilders is too wild an idea to be plausible lol. Lol I literaly saw him in my dream yesterday on the second day of discovering him and binge-watching his videos, lol.
The Dutch people need saving. You're already very few in numbers; intermarriage is the Dutch's biggest existential threat; extinction by dissolution. A Dutch State is the only possible saviour; people mostly only fall in love with someone within a mile from them; a state wherein most (if not all) are Dutch, would thus preserve the dutch genes.
A free-market championing privatization-proposing Geert Wilders wouldn't need to resort to Islam to achieve the end result all Dutch people desire: a safe and prosperous Netherlands for the Dutch.
Thanks.
-- Mises's no. 1 cocksucker.

This happened yesterday evening with me!
I recently started working from office like 1-2 days a week, other days being WFH.
I did not want to drive during key traffic hours and hence I decided to take metro. Soon after the metro went underground from Saket station, the coach started getting crowded like it is the last train on earth.
I committed a couple of mistakes- took general coach at 5.30 in the evening and took my position near to the coach dividers!
I was surrounded by men of all ages, gawking and oggling at me, literally molesting me with their eyes before starting with bad touches.
I fkin got groped like I was some squishy soft toy! Writing this triggers me like anything. Man every part of my body got touched and felt! I shouted at a man too. If you were around the 4-5th coach in a metro at AIMS stations around 6PM you would have heard a woman shout her lungs out!!
While walking past me, every guy tried to touch me in anyway possible. I literally had my purse clutched to my chest, standing in a little corner (when I got the place to stand there). I felt like crying and screaming like never before. No guy who saw it bothered to act or at least offer me a seat or some place to stand near the seats where at least I can save myself.
I got off at INA and took a cab back home. Took me 2 hours and now am not using the Delhi metro again. I am done with it!

Here's how to fix the Netherlands:

• illegalize extreme BDSM (first),
  
• legalize prostitution (already legal)
  
• especial unhackable cameras for sex-workers,
  
• the punishment for beating a woman be life sentence,
  

Extreme bdsm, as in, face-slapping, punching, anything that causes traumatic-brain-injury, concussions, (which can be detected in MRI tests for court trials), and any other permanent bodily injury.
That would make it the only place in the world where women be safe and free. The only place where:

• domestic violence is illegal (for real, not just on paper)
  
• sex-work is legal,
  
• abortion is legal.
  

To further limit domestic violence in households (not brothels), some optional things that can be implemented (which I highly advice) are:

• every registered home be laiden with unhackable ring-sig/multi-sig encrypted cameras with microphones sensitive to grid-line emf for timestampping,
  
• no court fees for women filing for domestic-violence cases (or any),
  
• no repercussions for falsely filing a case against your man (to reduce the fear of filing a case; the most that could go wrong is a mere No-Contact restrain order),
  
• if verifiably proven (as in, camera recordings, etc), suspect gets life sentence and forced labour with which the prison gets funded and the victim gets compensated,
  
• if not proven for certain, at least a restrain/no-contact order whereby the suspect cannot enter the towns/microstates the accuser happens to be in.
  
• suspicion-until-proven-not-guilty; the onus to prove one's innocence be upon the accused, the male, so men have every incentive to carry body cameras etc, to defend against false rape charges.
  
• everyone's past, past suspicions, trials, all such data, be on a website. If you can make a society safe for women, the good men would follow in like bees. Thus, catering to women's defence needs is very (Misesian) entrepreneurially advantageous. Afterall, the primary purpose of a society is DATING; keeping women safe in such dating/matchmaking game be your highest priority. There's many an evolutionarily evolved trait that keep children safe anyway, but fewer for women, especially in a non-tribal society with hookup culture wherein a psychopath has every incentive to harm/kill his date and run away. It's a surprise that that isn't more prevalent... Societies are playing with fire; they have no clue how deep in trouble they are. Reform or lose the game to psychopaths; much like the evol sexual-stretegy simulation studies on rat societies lol.
  

Your current law code is lame and hypocritical; as per the current laws on racism, to highlight IQ differences between races, to emphasize empathy/psychopathy prevalence differences between racial groups, is racist! And yet, the very notion of a-law-against-racism rests on the belief that races do exist, that there's skin-coloskull-shape/genetic differences between so called "races" they aim to protect; how could the state accept that there be such differences but illegalize for such differences to be discussed and admitted? Utterly ridiculous!
Your current judicial framework is a joke. A client could beat the hell out of a prostitute (just short of killing her) and he has more-or-less legal impunity! A wife-beater gets a mere month is prison! What sense does that make? To believe that, somehow, in a closed cell, locked in for a few months, playing GTA, banging pussies (sex-therapy with prostitutes, for sex offenders; as dumb as it sounds; wouldn't be surprised if UN says the right to sex is every human's basic fundamental human right lol), free food in the prison, somehow makes a psychopath a sunflower, is beyond my comprehension. One would have to be utterly braindead to believe so. Another hypothesis: the dutch politicians and justices are NOT braindead, they're just a little too psychopathic themselves, and being so, concerned for themselves and their own future wife-beating sons. Facts.
Your king is too empathetic and naive, very like the many white people all over the globe who believe in humanity, who believe that every human is deep down a fluffy furry, and to prove so to the world (or themselves), who venture into dangerous territory in the Africas or Arabian towns, only to be lynched by the mobs (many such cases in the news)...
The dutch people who want diversity can go live in Africa or the UAE; in the name of diversity, to advocate that others be put in danger for one's own naivety, is not just foolish, but downright wrong.
The dutch people who have big hearts, who wish to help the desperate immigrants, go do so with your own money. To advocate that others' money be stolen to be donated to one group, is no philanthropy. Theft in the name of charity is just that: THEFT.
To fix the Netherlands in the long run:

• do away with the laws on racism; keep only the laws against physical harm; words are words; one should only be prosecuted for actions, not threat by words, not threat to act, only action itself. At best, you could exile those deemed threatening (in the short run), but not imprison.
  
• do away with the laws against discrimination in the private sector; an entrepreneur who doesn't hire an equally talented woman/newcomeimmigrant/black for a job, would lose his revenue to the one who does; in the free market, wrong biases just aren't solvent, just aren't efficient and profitable. Such feminist equal-pay laws do more harm to women then good; no one wants to hire women anymore, especially for technical roles... Only misogynists pass such laws. Facts.
  

END WELFARE SOCIALISM:

• no free healthcare for nobody,
  
• no free housing for nobody,
  
• no state-funded pension for nobody,
  
• no child-care subsidies for nobody,
  
• etc.
  

PRIVATIZE THE STATE:

• with defence (international and internal) as the only service of the state of Netherlands, privatize such an entity; privatize the Dutch Defence Agency.
  
• every citizen gets one (or ten, or thousand; whatever denomination) equal shares of the private entity Dutch Defence Agency.
  
• inhabitants of the netherlands be required to pay a head-tax, a fixed tax/payment per person, for the services of international defence (radars, nukes, anti-nukes, iron dome, etc).
  
• people be free to sell their shares in the open market. And no, it doesn't make you susceptible to foreign interference/meddling in dutch statehood, on the contrary: state-privatization flips-the-table overnight, making all one's enemies into one's extended friends. Not only is the amount of money needed to become the majority shareholder quite high, but, upon putting so much money in, (an amount of money only sensible people get to have), any sensible actor is incentivized to not mess up and keep peace in one's stock, not hijack one's earnings, and just reap the dividents. Very like the Bitcoin/Monero POW incentives for major-miner.
  
• no trade tarrifs. Trump thinks an equal trade-tax for countries which charge a trade-tax with the US, is based. It's not, but it's better than most's beliefs, so okay. But, if one is to be serious, then no, Austrian Economists would never support such a scheme, for the simplest of reasons: selfishness. If Trump (and any country) is to be selfish enough, they should realize that zero-trade-tarrifs for all countries is the thing that makes one prosper, regardless of how much they be taxing us. Mises has said it a million times: war begins when trade ends. So no trade tarrifs whatsoever. Physical/existential security be the only service and concern of a state. Leave it to the dutch people (and private source-auditing firms) to not buy goods from products sourced from child-labouRussians/whatever. The scandenavian madness of One-Family, with the president as the country's daddy, is ludicrous! People are grown ups; they can make their own decisions.
  
• replace the ill notion of democracy with shareholder democracy.
  
• the CEO/president, in power only as long as they stay popular with the state's shareholders.
  

PRIVATIZE THE TOWNS:

• every town becomes a gated-community (with or without actual physical gates).
  
• every home-owner of such a town gets an equal number of shares in that community-stock (Citystate of Amsterdam, for example).
  
• dressing code (public nudity allowance), pollution/negative-externality laws (some with very strict noice-pollution laws, some lenient and affordable ones), traffic rules (bicycle exceptions, lanes, etc), architecture code and rules, all be the liberties of the city-state to decide upon.
  
• the only punishment a city-state be able to give people be: monetary fine, deducted from the prepaid lock-in fund, or, when it gets empty, eviction/exile from the city-state, free to move in to some cheaper lenient one in the Netherlands or elsewhere.
  
• no city-state could "imprison" people. A city-state which forbids abortion, cages pregnant women, preventing them from access to healthcare, would be thus unconstitutional.
  
• every city-state-resident be required to pay a policing-tax/fee; more protected towns have higher fees. Towns with more immigrants, requiring a well-funded police, for a bigger police force, to keep the people safe, would thus be more expensive, more inefficient, and it would thus only be a matter of time that the low-risk-tolerance Dutch populace segregate and buy up the city-stocks and even buy up the properties of the selling-immigrants-in-need-of-money-to-pay-their-state-tax-or-get-exiled, and vote to exile the immigrant population from their towns. All entrepreneurial. Mises knew it all in advance; he knew that the supreme notion of private-property was complete and enough, that it needed no exceptions for such immigration problems. Leftist liberals who are blindly pro-immigration shouldn't call themselves liberals; they're merely leftists, and they're wrong. In the liberal framework of private property, immigration is NEVER a problem that even needs addressing! Hail Von Mises. Ultimately, it all boils down to the entrepreneurial utilitarian benefits of lower policing costs and at a much higher safety-level that come from barring violent races from one's towns, benifits that ultimately pale the compromises in cheap-labour (that the immigrants provide) or the slightly higher shipping costs of buying such products of cheap-labour from a thousand miles afar. The idiots in the dutch parliament and the businessmen who pretend like without all this cheap labour their economy would collapse and they'd be in losses, are misguiding. Shipping costs are already low enough; the inefficiencies of slavery over willful employment and low shipping costs is what defunded slavery; you would be better off buying goods from Africa than having Africans in your own country making those goods at your doorstep. Instead, free trade cross-borders should be encouraged and cherished.
  

As for oppression and foreign wars, if you can't help a people defend their lives and territory by military and financial aid (funded from private charities), don't pretend to help by taking in refugees either, most of whom are, by the very definition of how things work, often the worst of the stock; the average good empathetic african/muslim/indian doesn't want to loot away someone's prosperous country. The good ones never even cry for help to begin with, and most of them are within your borders already: the native Dutch too afraid to express their fear of immigrants; heed to their cries and help them first instead.
REFURNISH DOMESTIC SPACES:

• cameras in every registered home; totally very economical, heck, a billionaire could fund it all out of his own pocket. Mass survillience isn't a concern because it's not impossible to design a black-box encryption protocol with multi-signature encryptions which can only be decoded if all the parties (you, your wife, and the state) provide their keys to decode the video feed. Zero-knowledge-sharing sorcerry whereby keys don't get disclosed to any party either.
  
• the right to discriminate. It's the home-owner's right to dictate who gets to visit inside and who doesn't, whether he/she discriminates on the basis of skin colour or hair colour. In fact, the right to discriminate is as important as the right to free speech, and mutually dependent on each other. One has every right to discriminate who one marries based purely on their race! One has every right to befriend people based on their race. And so does an employer when hiring. To say otherwise and pass anti-discrimination laws is no less discriminatory; just discriminatory in a certain cunning state-sponsered way, for a select few's advantage. An argument can be made that, given how many white women only date big black guys, such anti-discrimination laws would hurt them so-called minorities as much, if not more.
  
• corporal punishment of children (or women/men) be illegal.
  
• no-caging law. One cannot cage someone in one's house without their consent. So, husband denying wife her freedom to abort be first degree violence, no different from switching the button on an electric chair, or pulling the trigger of a gun.
  
• gun laws up to the private property's owner. No home owner would wany guests to carry guns inside, prolly. As for city-state's rules on gun-ownership inside households, that's a purely entrepreneurial matter:
  

fines for owning a gun, disincentivizing gun ownership, has built-in unenforcability; criminal always carries a gun (which can even be 3d printed at home these days), but overall, fewer guns in the public, so fewer rage fights becoming lethal, less money needed to manage the populace for the police, so lower tax/fee,
vs
legal to own a gun in wild spaces, illegal in private spaces (like malls, homes, schools) as per private wish, with metal checks; more guns, higher tax to manage, but ability to defend oneself from criminals carrying guns.
The latter is better imo. Those who think the former is better, can opt in and live in such city-states. What there cannot be is: a sentence for just owning a gun. Only monetary fine or eviction from the city-state; a sentence would be unconstitutional as per the theory of actions-ultimate-judgement, not words, not threats, not gun ownership, not genes, not mental disorders, only actions. There's no better simulation substitute than the real world; all else predictions are merely probabilistic, and when people get imprisoned for mere threats, such predictions are doomed to become ultimately baseless and divorced from reality.
REFORM YOUR CONSTITUTION:

• Make Ludwig Von Mises your constitution's founding-grandpa. Base the code to rule by, on his magnum opus Human Action.
  
• Besides the theoretical basings, short readable constitution that's basically a consent-form that every citizen consents to; consent to be rescued when drowning, consent to be operated on by doctor when unconscious, consent to be arrested for suspicion and inquiry (?), consent to be punched when resisting arrest (which no one would sign to, so no punching people EVER, especially in the name of law enforcement).
  

The idea is, it's a matter of selecting between explicit consent (consent denied unless explicitly granted) vs implicit consent (consent granted unless explicitly revoked); the former allows for illegalizing sex with drunk/unconscious people, and even the slaughter of animals (which, though probably an unpopular take even in the Netherlands, is ultimately the right thing to do, but boy oh boy do people hate vegans, and you'd get more support for illegalizing domestic violence (from women and half the men) than you would for illegalizing slaughter, but hey, when was the popular thing ever the right thing to do lol). Even for abortion, explicit-consent-theory (consent-denied-unless-granted) supports abortion in a legal constitutional sense in that the fetus' right-to-exist is denied by default, so the host mother be free to deny its existence and act upon it by aborting.
Much like, the theoretical basing of the judiciary on illegalizing suicide/euthanasia illegalizes extreme bdsm (brain damage) too, and, extrepreneurially speaking, saves many a woman from abuse; legalized lovemaking-in-exchange-for-money but illegalized-extreme-bdsm won't move the abuse underground either, or so my judgement says, for, the poor unfortunate untalented women would have plenty of monetary opportunity in the white sex market, and no such woman would want to go to the underground black market to make money off of her own possible murder; what use is such money if one's dead or braindead; upon a concussion, one's never the same again, one stops enjoying the things one once enjoyed, so the money earned thusly would be a waste too. Then again, I'm guessing you aren't interested in the theoretical philosophical and risk-assessment ideas behind this all, so won't bother with that.
REFORM THE JUDICIARY:

• base the law code away from the fraudulent brain-dead notion of justice; 'cause, there really is no such thing as justice, as putting someone in their victim's shoes, tit for tat; a psycho could never know how it feels to have his tits cut off, for he doesn't have any to begin with! Even within the same gender, people are different, their ages are different. The earth is always moving through space, never in the same place twice; we're moving through time. It's just impossible to simulate being in another's shoes here on Earth (ignoring the NDE life-reviews in the afterlife lol); it's physically impossible.
  
• base the law code away from the fraudulent notion of punishment. Being in a prison, getting free food, is no punishment. Some loners might even enjoy it. Heck, Israeli women released from prison choose to commit petty crimes (like breaking the window of the police vehicle) just to get back in the prison. Prison is often far safer a place, and many feel comfy down there. Heck, even the Singaporean judicial caning is some people's most craved fantasy. Heck, extreme masochists would, rather than finding a psycho, paying them to chop their hands off, then making sure the other person doesn't get prosecuted, find it more effortless, cheaper, more realistic, to rob a bank then get their hands chopped off by the Sharia law enforcers! So really, there's no such thing as a just punishment, cause there's no such thing as a punishment to begin with!
  
• base the law code on the two pillars of PREVENTION and COMPENSATION;
  
• life sentence for violent people (be it, slapping/punching/stabbing/murdering), to PREVENT it from happening again, to PREVENT the society from such actors;
  
• compensation for the victim, proportional to the harm caused, funded by the victimizer's money and forced labour in the prison. Come up with an entrepreneurial figure, 50%, ish, portion of the inmate's income (remote working from the prison), which goes to the victim for compensation. Too high that portion and the inmate might lose the drive to work/be-productive. Psychopathy atrophies over generations when its evolutionarily advantageous opportunities cease to be. Rightful compensation tilts the trade-offs in good people's favour.
  
• Proportional compensation. When a man slaps a woman, the damage is a hundread times worse than when a woman slaps a man, and ten times worse than when the same gender slaps the same gender. Not only are men's hands bigger and arms more muscular, but also women's skulls are thinner and more susceptible to concussing. So such laws are not sexist; they're just. This notion called equality has been a menace for women, second only to neo-feminism that advocates fiddling with the free market.
  
• Inside prison, with their own earned money, inmates be free to buy TV, stereo, air-conditioning, king-size bed, whatever.
  
• ONLY for violent crimes does one be sent to prison, and once sent, to never return.
  
• for financial crimes, one be made an economic slave; losing one's 50% income to the victims of one's fraud/whatever. Economic slaves, which, most europeans paying 50% in taxes (and getting back close to nothing in return, thanks to states, by nature, being so inefficient with money), kinda already are, lol.
  

REFORM THE CAPITAL MARKET:

• Do away with Limited-Liability. The idiots who call themselves climate activists who think capitalism is the enemy, are just that: idiots. The Koala escaping from wildfire gets comfort in the air-conditioned room that every household today can afford; none of this would be there if it weren't for capitalism. People get to feed and care for millions of stray animals; none of this would be possible without capitalism. Morality, especially charity, is a luxury commodity; something socialists don't get to enjoy. But the fact is, these so called climate activists don't care about animals, don't care about trees, all they care about is this molecule called Carbon Dioxide, because they're stupid, or wose, tesla-fanatics.
  
• Replace Limited-Liability with Full-Liability. If Nestle poisons a village or sells lead-laiden food products, or commits a murder, the ones responsible for the violent actions first-hand be convicted of first-degree physical harm, and the shareholders be convicted of third-degree harm, and be made to compensate the victims, whether that requires seizing all their assets (and those of the company) or making them economic slaves for the rest of their lives. Fact is, it is the duty and moral obligation of a shareholder to watch for the actions of the company; negligence, inaction, their primary sin. Buying is supporting; Bill Gates is a moron for being an investor in Monsanto.
  

There be basically, degrees of freedom:

• freest citizens
  
• economic slaves (losing half their income to victim-compensation),
  
• prison inmates (who have compensated fully, now buying luxury goods and mansions in the prison island),
  
• prison slaves (losing half their income to victim-compensation),
  
• tied prison slaves (who have anger issues, so be somewhat elbow-restrained to prevent them from being violent toward other inmates),
  
• solitary-confinement prison slaves (zero reason to do so, yet, Japan does it all the time). Prisoners should be free to socialize, bond together, share a cell together, and these things don't increase the risks of prison-escape either.
  

Ultimately, life's purpose is to just live, make experiences, form memories, and learn some lessons. Death penalty is just wrong; so is solitary confinement when so many mechanisms exist to prevent violence among inmates via boxing-gloves-handcuffs, teeth-covers, and elbow and knee restrains.
REFORM THE POLICE:

• No impunity for cops. Cops be help liable for their actions, liable to the law. In fact, more liable.
  
• Learn from Prince Machiavelli lol; embrace some Game Theory. Legalize and grant moral impunity to cops who shoot down fellow cops abusing people wrongfully.
  

Those who think police reforms will never work are stupid; one lone man could make his men commit the organized genocide of 6 million, against the empathetic impulses of the men themselves, and they're saying, well-behaved police is impossible to have? What nonsense! Truth is, the powers that be are utterly inept or themselves psychopathic and fap to the videos of police officers punching women in the face for cursing them. Because the matter of fact is, one needs neither the right kind of people, nor the majority power, to commit acts of good or evil; just a good grip on whatever little power one has. Such a shame that literally no ruler alive knows how to rule.

• Cops be free to arrest fellow cops for misconduct.
  
• Cops (and others) be free to report such psychopathic cops.
  
• Samaritan protection laws. It be legal for strangers to beat a wife-beater beating his wife in public, or even, to shoot at a cop abusing someone when making arrest. Maybe even rewarding, in that, when imprisoned and compensated, the victim is free to pass on some share of her compensations to her savious who risked their well-being to save her.
  

In fact, no sociologist worth his salt would deny that women were safer and more protected from psychopaths and better off ten thousand years ago than in today's anonomyous mega societies; something even Ted Bundy alluded to. Sex as payments in ancient times lol, and David Friedman even hypothesizes that that's how and why women evolved concealed ovulation lol.

• for crimes like traffic law violation, no arresting and car-chases; the said person be sent a notice to appear in a court all by themself instead.
  
• city-state's domestic-law-enforcing cops be split into two teams:
  
• benign cops should not carry guns, instead, be wearing funny-looking non-intimidating bulletproof body suit and helmet and be carrying mancatchers, handcuffs, legcuffs; autistic people or psychopathic people never be hired, only those with very sharp social skills, and be trained to read social cues, to be funny, to crack jokes, make people laugh, break fights peacefully, or, as a last resort, arrest, but with dignity, never insulting the arrested, never judging, and be carrying those arrested on a bed instead of making them walk with their hands cuffed, which could be dangerous for drunk drivers, old people with arm pain, etc.
  
• gun-violence-control cops carry guns, but should only be deployed for gun-violence, wherein they might have to shoot (tranquilizers or bullets) to neutralize a gun-weilding madman.
  

Giving people unrestricted licence to kill is dangerous. No cops are better than bad cops. Just like no laws are better than bad laws whereby the average woman acting in self-defence gets sentenced to 20 years for killing her man, while a (drunk) man killing his wife gets 2 years. And that's a fact; women get five times longer sentences for homocide than men, in the US. And the average sentence for proven domestic violence cases is: a few weeks behind bars, with the possibility of parole and bail. Talk about feminism running rampant.
Some entrepreneurial suggessions:

• half the cops' income be locked in a conditional account, sorta a pension fund, which they lose entirely if they commit a crime on duty. Afterall, cops are petty puppet people too, who can be controlled by money just as neatly as any other.
  
• of the remaining half, half be conditional on the basis of being useful. Lazy cops who do nothing don't get that, and his employer be loosing more (from his allowance package; the more savings, the more his/her bonus) by design too, by hiring more useless cops without as much of a need in a neighbourhood. For making false arrests, arresting innocent people without reason, the cop be fined and the fine be handed to the person arrested wrongfully.
  
• like in Georgia, for misconduct (groping women, etc) or for taking bribes, the whole batch and the batch-leader (employer; sergent; whatever) be fired. Thus, sergents have every incentive to check for psychopathy (MRI tests, whatever), past history, beforehand, when hiring a cop.
  

REGARDING CHILDREN:

• corporal punishment be illegal,
  
• children who can pass language/literature test be full acting citizens, free to buy shares and vote in shareholder meetings,
  
• exploiting the power of the default to fiddle in the free-market of dating, for women's advantage. Why? Entrepreneurial: good laws that make women feel safe attract a surplus of rich happy attractive women who attract rich nice men (which need less police to manage), which means more population, lower expenses, higher dividents for the shareholders of the state!
  
• by default, for impregnating someone, whether they go through labour pain or lesser abortion pain, the guy be liable for a payment of 100k to her. [Vasectomies incentivized over pills, traumatic IUDs, fallopian-tying, all of which are unhealthy.]. Regarding science, though paternity tests and gene-sequencings are a blessing, IVF is a curse, and a woman could use a guy's skin dust for gametogenesis via stem-cell technology and impregnate herself with such artificial cum and the jury wouldn't know... Big gray zone.
  
• the mother gets the custody of the baby, always. Up to her to give up the custody to him or someone else if she feels so.
  
• artificial wombs be fully legal. It's utter pure hypocracy to advocate against external human-fetus-growth in labs past 7 days, in a world where slaughtering full grown animals, hunting them for fun, killing even SUPERIOR animals like Orcas, their entire families, baiting their mothers with their baby-whale tied in a fishing-net, is all legal. Artificial wombs are already fully viable, there's no scientific hurdle preventing them from being deployed, only legal. Regardless, for logistical reasons, I can bet many countries would be more than happy to adopt such technology in a decade. Only a matter of time.
  
• though every child deserves a female mother for none can love one like a woman does, it's something for culture to enforce and normalize, and for self-conscience to make gay couples consider a nanny/3rd-partner, not legal interventions.
  
• baby becomes an acting individual upon 3 years old, or whenever he can speak/read/write fluently and pass language tests, and has to read and sign the constitution or face eviction lol. Prodigies thus at an advantage in the money game 'cus they can start investing early on, unlike the current one which renders races which sexually mature before or at the legal age of 18 at an advantage over those who mature much later. Lol nevermind.
  
• up until the baby becomes an actor, animal-protection laws (or more specifically, pet-protection) laws should apply on the baby: no violence, no murder, unless in self-defence (i.e., almost never), no medical negligence, no abandoning the baby. For medical negligence or abandoning the baby, no sentencing, only blacklisting the said caretaker from future reproductive baby-care, so not allowed in kindergartens, schools, baby-spaces, and genetically blacklisted.
  
• criminals in prison should get genetically blacklisted. Eugenics is not a bad idea; it's the state that should stay out of it, except for the clensing of criminal genes. A criminal's entire descending-tree shuld get blacklisted; said violent criminal's children either get sterilized or promise to not procreate or get evicted. Gene banks be legal; culture should normalize borrowing the genes of (jewish/dutch) geniuses and raising their babies via IVF.
  

The selfish man doesn't have sex; he clones.
Why mix your genes with someone so different, of the opposite sex, despite being better than oneself. The fact that people have sex and choose good pretty intelligent partners unrelated to themselves, when compounded, is the same as adopting pure Jewish babies. Even Jews are distant cousins to all anyway. Heck, adopt orcas. Either black or white; clones or orcas; ignoring clone mutations (7 mutations per generation, I think), the latter, survival of the group over oneself, is a better strategy and thus more selfish a strategy, whereas the former is doomed to fail, at least for humans, and is only seen in ants which can afford a thousand kids and an epic one-in-a-thousand style selection pressures. Even if that's how superior alien societies operate, even in the latter case, most (worker ants) be raising the royal princes/princesses anyway; raising the babies of mathematical geniuses is not that different. Gene banking (positive eugenics) would speed evolution exponenetially!

• child-care payments. By default, the guy be liable to maternal-care payments to the mother.
  
• state-ensured child-care and pregnancy-payments to the mother. Even if the guy defaults/can't-pay, the state pays the mother and the state extorts the due from the guy in private/court. Mother always gets paid. Guy thus has no grudges against the mother, only the state. Such an arrangement reduces the chances of domestic or hate/revenge violence against the mother.
  
• prenups can be used to sway away from this defaults and arrange for custom scenarios.
  
• full liability for the baby/pet's actions. If your pet/baby hurts someone seriously, you be liable for full monetary compensation and economic slavery; you also lose your pet/baby-keeping licence.
  
• no impunity for acting children (post 3 years of age who have passed the tests) for commiting crimes. Schools should only accept acting-children, not babies. If your child punches another child on the head in school, he gets tried as an adult acting actor. Incentivizes parents to inculcate values of conviction to non-violence in their kids, if they wish to send them to schools and public places. If your babies are violent, postpone the language-comprehension test and constitution-signing and keep them at home; don't put other's kids at risk. American schools are a hellscape. Not only is segregation in schools outlawed, kids have legal impunity, so of course, (black) psycho bullies roam free and abound.
  
• full head-tax per baby. From day 1.
  

DO AWAY WITH SOCIAL SECURITY:

• Instead, private insurance companies can replace most of the services of social-security.
  
• An insurance package of 100k, insurance against homeless, whereby, once deposited, the company invests it in long term assets, compounds it with every passing day, and should one become bankrupt, one should be able to use such a Social-Security-Number to buy rent of up to 20$/day, food up to 10$/meal, three meals a day, for as long as one lives. Or pooled insurance based on average bankrupcy risk statistics, for much lower premium.
  
• Likewise, health insurance, bough from private insurance companies.
  
• For babies, an insurance package of orphan-insurance, so, should the parents die in a car crash or whatever, the insurance company pays its head-tax, pays for its orphanage fee, its schooling and medical expenses, etc.
  
• No, none, zero, nil whatsoever, restrictions/laws/rules on insurance companies. Hans Herman Hoppe is right on how messy and ridiculous the laws have made the insurance market into. Of course, if an insurance company defaults on its promises, it, like with all Full Liability Companies, should get scavenged along with its shareholders. But other than that, no forcing inclusion of fringe groups in insurance pools over such insurance companies.
  

TRANS-CONTINENTAL COLONY

• bribe some local leader and arrange for a colony in Africa whereupon to dump those unable to pay the taxes (the poor immigrants, for the most part; the dutch poor can be saved by private charities funding their head-tax) and those barred from dutch city-states (non-dutch).
  
• in the long run, deport them to whichever country they be willing to go, whichever be willing to accept them.
  

That's it. And just like that, you'd have fixed the Netherlands, and, the world being a mere copycat mirror-complex of stupid politicians (except Wilders) unable to think for themselves, only learning from other's experiences, very like the trickling down of monarchies after the French Revolution like a domino falls, just like that, you'd possibly have fixed the whole world! If the world sees from the Dutch exemplary example of privatization of statehood and follows suit, that would singlehandedly save humanity from poverty (socialism), war (tradelessness), and immorality (dictatorships like in Iran where morality police kills girls who don't wear proper dresses). The Dutch were the example of free-trade and privatization once before, they can do it again too.
Geert Wilders is the only hope.
Milei, being so totally anti-abortion, is an utter disgrace in the name of an Austrian Liberal; should have been aborted before he was even born.
Mises was, is, and forever will be, PRO-CHOICE.
That's right, I just said it. And any liberals who are pro-life are fake liberals who pretend to be liberals but are at the core, braindead or worse, psychopaths.
Nicholas Sarwark doesn't talk about abortion (to stay nice to both groups, when actually, that just makes him an idiot who'd get votes from neither unless he takes a stance; classic demogogue),
Ron Paul is very very against abortion too, his whole lineage sucks,
Justin Amash outright opposes it,
it's so funny, cause, Mises, Ludwig Von Mises, the guy he so likes to quote, himself was very pro-choice, and said the process of becoming sentient, becoming a consenting individual of the society, is "gradual", doesn't happen overnight, that a fetus is not the same as an adult, and above all, was a UTILITARIAN who believed in family-planning at the family-level as per the family's economic potential and incentives and time-preference, who vouched against state-sponsered eugenics and child-subsidies as population control measures, who believed in women being more of an acting being, was the champion of economic freedom for women, who in his own personal life recognized the entrepreneurial value bargain in prefering these talented undervalued women, who was the biggest feminist and women's liberator in the history of manking (equal contestent with Morgentaler, another Jew)! Amash's (and others') preaching Mises wholly, saying that their views are practically indistinguishable from Mises's, then opposing abortion, is like killing people "in the name of God the creator"; it's pure blasphemy, heck, worse than that, for Mises is above God, and these false preachers shall be judged harshly by Mises' immortal spirit. *inhales lol.
Not all races are equal. Sexual and survival stretegies dictate the differences. The muslims have been murdering the intelligent (dissident/scientific) and beautiful (emo boys/girls) among themselves for more than a millenia; no wonder they've gotten so retarded. The Chinese are apathetic people, bred to obey, war, and kill, without remorse; free-thinking pricipled dissidents all but extinct among them. Evolutionary psychologists who think that war is good for the genes are idiots; sure, war is good for genes, but peace is better. Heck, EVERYTHING is good for the genes. The genes are set on a track to evolve forwards, and they'd only do so, and abominations like Islam are mere incidental dips in a more or less upward-rising curve. The least-warring greeks were the most feminist, the highest longevity-people, the most nicest, until war struck Europe too.
The Dutch are one of the best races in the world, second only to the Jews who have significantly higher IQ, higher empathy, the lowest domestic violence and physical violence rates, and the cleanest past history (never practiced witchhunts, and despite brutal punishments legal in Judiasm, never practiced them; it's like, despite judiasm, the Jews never gave in to barbarianism; such noble genes; never committed genocides), way better than the forever stained dutch history of the witchhunts which took the lives of some 300 innocent women... Still, the Dutch are better than the rest, by a huge margin. Not to mention the Dutch are the most good-looking tall handsome honest people in the whole world. Unpopular opinion but, me thinks Geert Wilders is the most handsome man ever; boy would I pay to suck his cock lol. Even an imaginary anime character better looking than Wilders is too wild an idea to be plausible lol. Lol I literaly saw him in my dream yesterday on the second day of discovering him and binge-watching his videos, lol.
The Dutch people need saving. You're already very few in numbers; intermarriage is the Dutch's biggest existential threat; extinction by dissolution. A Dutch State is the only possible saviour; people mostly only fall in love with someone within a mile from them; a state wherein most (if not all) are Dutch, would thus preserve the dutch genes.
A free-market championing privatization-proposing Geert Wilders wouldn't need to resort to Islam to achieve the end result all Dutch people desire: a safe and prosperous Netherlands for the Dutch.
Thanks.
-- Mises's No. 1 Cocksucker.

Hi, So me and my best friend (age 18-20) were smoking weed (we do this a lot) a while ago on 4/20. Whilst everything was going well at first, later that evening he started to get really paranoid about people trying to get him.
He believed there were people to get him because he heard some other guys we were smoking with (it was a pretty decent sized group) say things like: "Yeah that's him" and other things that indicated that they somehow knew him. He started to get really quiet and constantly kept texting me and another friend he trusted that he was scared and that we should walk him to the train station and he kept coming off like he was ACTUALLY scared to death. Eventually, he made his parents pick him up. I know however, that there is a reason for this.
My friend has a past with being threatened. To give you the quick backstory: He was once friends with a girl. The girl didn't necessarily make the best life choices (but neither did he at that time). But at one point the girl got a boyfriend. My friend and her never had any romantic or sexual relationship as far as I know. Also, he would've mentioned it to me if they did. This new boyfriend was your typical criminal youth type of guy. He knew a lot of people from other cities and was also a dealer at one point. I don't know very much about this guy, but my friend told me that he also had a few violent run ins with people and that he is a really scary well-connected. (Could be biased, I'll get to that a bit further down)
The drama begins when my friend and that girl got in a fight over something. The girl then accuses my friend of raping her whilst under the influence of some drugs they took (like I said, not the best choices). This escalated very quicky, because the new boyfriend now starts actively threatening to hurt my friend badly, he even showed up to my friends house a few times. Nothing has ever happened, except the one time where he almost got beat up in an alleyway. My friend escaped because one of the guys warned him to run before the others could do anything.
My friend swears on his life that he never raped her and never touched her in any non consensual way. I believe him, not because he's my friend. But because I know the girl, and she's known for doing shitty things like this (+ what's up with that shady boyfriend?)
My friend kept receiving such threats for a bit less than a year, they stopped because the boyfriend moved away to another city.
However, since then he's been very paranoid every time we get close to the city that the boyfriend moved to or when we go to a place that he knew the boyfriend used to have/has friends. It really ruins the mood for a lot of people in our friend group and I even had to change up my birthday plans because of this.
Yesterday I saw an Instagram post (not reliable information, I know) that was a screenshot of some Soviet experiment that found that if you constantly threaten someone, they will start to believe in it and no other factual information given to them that states the opposite will change their mind.
I thought this was a very interesting topic on it's own, but even more because my friend is maybe experiencing a similar thing. I know that it's Instagram so I should take it with a big grain of salt. But that's why I believe why my friend is a bit biased when talking about the 'boyfriend', because he already scares him. So the stories he tells me about this boyfriend are of course going to be a bit exaggerated. I have personally never heard of this boyfriend guy, even though I have asked around at a lot of extremely credible sources who are decently big deals in those types of circles. But still, the IG post sparked my interest and thus my questions:
Where can I learn more about this effect and does it have a name?
Is there anything that I can do to help except telling him to go to therapy? (Already tried)
Is this actually Paranoia related? Or is it something else?
Thank you for reading, any answers, advices and reactions on my questions and my friends story are appreciated. As I truly want to learn more so that I can help him.
TL;DR My friend has been threatened a lot in the past, and now gets really paranoid in some situations. Where can I learn more about the subject?
P.S. I know smoking weed doesn't help, tried telling him that too. He said he's not gonna quit because he likes it.

Hi everyone My name is shirali 48 married. Son 22 daughter 21.
I was born to a Coorgi mother and a Tamil father. So my features were mixed with glass skin cat eyes and smooth body 38 30 36 D cup bra and L panty. Take the Omphie bust.
I was used by some relatives and neighbors both boys and girls during school time.
Even now my urges increase and I indulge in deliberately seducing others and I am happy when people look at me.
Mostly I wear casual clothes to work. I work in advertising marketing and my job involves many meetings with clients and office or client parties.
My husband owns a luxury car dealership abroad, he rarely visits or calls us. So I don't have to worry about the future.
Childhood
I was 5.4 feet tall in the school and had an athletic body and played many sports including cricket and tennis.
It got me involved with the boys at school and local sports clubs. The boy drooled as my breasts bounced as I ran. They grabbed me by my nipple pokies on my sports shirt sticking out. I used to wear sleeveless tops that showed off my cleavage and areolas while playing tennis.
Every week I clean my son's room Although he occasionally cleans my son's room, the maids do the other rooms. I realized he was staring at my hanging breasts without a bra
The next week I caught him downloading porn and he subscribed to live porn sites. I was surprised to find that he also subscribed to incest porn sites, although a common trait for boys. And a lot of money was transferred from his bank to many women of my age I wondered why he dated older women more than younger ones. I was praying that he should not have sex with them. Fortunately, I was relieved to know the reason later.
A vdo made me freeze in which a mom and son incest. Though I thought it is doable for the moment I thought it's not normal and unrealistic.
That made me think about behavior of young boys towards aunties like me. I started noticing my son's friends behavior with me. So far I never felt bad when they shook hands or embrace speck a kiss during celebrations like birthdays etc.
One day I overheard a conversation of boys boasting about their misdemeanors in public busses and trains with women. How they grope rub flash in public. It induced me to take a bus or train ride to see what really happens. So one day I took a train ride in general compartment. I found majority were men and very few ladies.
I was eager to see any male making advances to some female. After 30mins of travel everything was normal and nothing happened. I got bored and decided to get down at next stop.
As I was about to exit the compartment a middle aged female who was wearing sleazy dress gaudy makeup strong perfume entered the compartment and immediately most men were goring her with their eyes. So I stayed back to watch what happens.
A 50 something man got up from his seat and it to her and other men were ogling at her. He asked her which station does she want to get down and the lady answered with a slur some station. He said that he is also alighting at same which seemed far off. She replied in local accent without diction, telling him share the seat. The man glowed and addressed her as Madam n thanked her n sat along with her. As I wanted to see what happens, I got up my seat went to a girl who was seated opposite the lady n man told the girl to take my seat and offer me her seat she obliged.
Sitting in front of them I observed both of them very keenly. The told her something which was not audible and immediately the female laughed loud and told him to give 3000 rupees in an incoherent speech which made me think she is drunk. The agreed by nodding and she immediately started squeezing his crotch in public to which the man never objected. By the time some the train stopped they both got off the train holding each other's waists.
I got aroused seeing this and took a bus ride the same evening in a transparent lowest waist saree low cut sleeveless blouse in full makeup. The bus conductor asked me for ticket I told him that I get down at last stop. While he gave the ticked he held my hand and scratched his nail on my palm. I kept aloof as he is on duty but he kept on walking past me and brushing his body against mine whenever possible until the bus got crowded. I stood holding a a railing atop one by my right side. This made every male in the bus who got down had to ask me for passage. Heat n humidity made my bra n erect pokies visible. After a while I felt someone almost on me in the crowd brushing their body on mine. I got wet in between my thighs to know that 3 men, one ahead one by side one more on my back were rubbing on me. By the time I could move the man facing me groped my breasts and started to squeeze it. My erect nipples pained by it but he continued to my pleasure. I felt erect cock rubbing my ass from behind and another hand kneading my butts. I felt drugged bliss by three on me at once closed my eyes and relishing the moment.
The man in front took my hand to his dick area. I was shocked when I touched his dick going naked for me in a bus throbbing in my palm. I cud feel his sweaty cock and a mild odor emanating which made me pump him vigorously till he leaked in my palm. Without shame it took it to my nose smelt and licked it too.
I took regular bus rides during peak hours in the crowd.
Contd

I’m a fan of Survivor that just started watching AR. As a female i felt disgusted by what Tian and Jaree had to go through in the episode , getting squashed and groped on the train.
Why would production knowingly put them into that situation ? I would imagine you can do other safer transport than trains in India that would be safer for the females.
Are there any more seasons that makes contestant feel uncomfortable ? If so , please highlight those for me.

An absolute banger of a diss that’s gone over everyone’s heads so far
“Extortion my middle name as soon as you jump off of that plane, bitch”
TLDR at bottom
Seems like somewhat of a throwaway line, right? Obviously Kendrick had a line earlier about having a direct flight, so maybe it is just a common “my middle name is danger” sorta bar + a slight reference to an earlier Kendrick bar.
But it ain’t.
Second time I listened to this song, about 12 hours ago now, I was confused by this line. Why would Kendrick say this? Tf does this even mean? So I googled “extortion plane”. Which brought me to a Wikipedia article about a Chinook Helicopter that got shot down in Afghanistan in 2011 by an RPG. The helicopter’s callsign was Extortion 17.
“Lmao helicopters ain’t planes lol kdot fans reaching” Yeah no shit, and Kendrick is short, we know.
Anyway a helicopter called Extortion-17 got shot down. The “as soon as you jump out of that plane” is a reference to what the helicopter was trying to pick up: US Navy Seals and US Army Rangers.
The obvious connection for me here is that Army Rangers are notorious for being paratroopers, jumping out of planes, but Navy Seals are also trained to do so.
Kendrick is making a reference to the Rangers and SEALs that died from extortion-17 being shot down.
Beyond that, some of the SEALs that died were part of SEAL team 6. The helicopter Extortion literally killed part of the Six. I don’t think I need to explain that one even to the Drake fans reading this.
Other relevance to this: Extortion-17 is an obvious reference to Drake’s underaged allegations; particularly him groping the 17 year old on stage and making remarks about her even after he knew her age. And one last thing; Today is 17 days since “Push-Ups” dropped and Drake threatened to extort Kendrick.
This line is single-handedly the most clever and well-hidden
It could be a reach. It could be a coincidence. I could be a meat rider.
But there’s too much there for it to just be a coincidence from Kendrick, if ya ask me.
TLDR: Helicopter called Extortion 17 got shot down killing people that dropped from a plane and were part of SEAL team 6. “Extortion 17” is an obvious threat about having Drake hooking up with a 17 year old.
Thanks for reading my schizo post.

The existence of supers isn't new. Hell, third period chemistry is taught by Mrs Infinity, and most of us have had copy of her a time or two before now for other classes. Pretty much everyone has her for kindergarten after all. So none of us would be surprised to find a single super amongst the student body.
I certainly wouldn't, especially considering I can read all their minds. I know just how many of them are here and it's all of us.
(Notably I cannot pierce the veil of Mrs Infinity's mind [minds?] like I can the other teachers', it makes chemistry harder, but I can read Gemma's mind so I do fine on tests because she always aces chemistry.)
Well today, for some reason unknown, Mrs Infinity was not in class. How does an infinitely replicating, unaging, always healthy super miss a work day? Those of us kids capable of critical thinking were worried at her absence, something massive must be happening if she was missing.
Everyone knows better than to attack a school, no sane villain would dare. They've all always got an infinity at them, and she can summon HIM instantly to anywhere one of her is. HE is scarier than algebra and chemistry combined, and I'm saying that as someone that regularly reads her classmate's minds. Well today, our Infinite guardian was gone.
At lunch, when most of the student body was out and about in the quad, a bunch of red portals started opening in the air some twenty feet up, facing down, out of which a slew of robotic soldiers began to appear and fall to the ground. They opened fire on the buildings immediately, seemed to be planning to destroy the school more than the student body. At least I had initially thought.
I looked around and quickly realized why they weren't shooting at students... I was the only one still in the quad. As soon as the portals had ripped opened, while I stared slack jawed like an idiot, the rest of the students had hopped into action. There must have been a line in the bathroom to change into their costumes, because a half dressed Derrick Dunningham tackled me to the ground to protect me from being shot. I'd have been mad at him, but the instant his skin made contact with mine, I could tell he was only intending to protect me. He didn't even notice his hand on my chest. Again, mind reader, I could tell.
"Holy shit! Anne are you alright?" he asked, shirtlessly. He had on a simple mask, as though that would stop me recognizing his faded-ass purple dyed hair and dark roots. Bullets and laser fire bounced off his big, strong, shirtless back as he stood up and took his hands off me.
"I'm fine, I guess." I sensed panic and fear swell near the cafeteria. "The Cafeteria, go! They need help!"
"Dozer, AWAY!" He shouted as he jumped away toward the Cafeteria. What a handsome buffoon.
A large tanky walker bot had dropped from the portal and was about to crush its way into the cafeteria, where a few dozen students had all been facing away from one another trying to switch costumes without being caught, but instead they were, quite literally, caught with their pants down. That was okay though, because Derrick 'Dozer' Dunningham slammed the big bot with a shoulder, sending himself and the bot tumbling together to the ground, where he started to pound it apart.
A couple of sisters I've known since second grade went flying past me and put down a wall of ice and stone around me to protect me from more random fire. Their costumes were super cute, their mom did a great job. Too bad I can't tell them.
Then, Barry Blitz bopped into existence next to me, silently. "Greetings... uhh... Citizen. Do you want to get away from here?" Barry has previously used his teleportation powers on multiple occasions to peep on the girls in the locker room, occasionally bringing along another boy. I don't think anyone but me had realized it yet. In his stupid, self-made Blinko costume, I almost forgot about it. But I could sense the struggle in the gym was getting out of hand. They were losing to whatever bots dropped there.
"Barry, take me to the office, I need to get on the announcements. To command the troops." I tell him, grabbing his hand.
"I uhh... I dunno who this Barry you speak of is, Anne." he says, blushing beet red. "I'm Blinko."
"Then how did you know my name, Barry!?" I shouted at him. He looked confused, "No time for this dude, take me to the office NOW. Or after this is all over I can I'll tell Mrs Infinity that I know you've been peeping."
There's a flash of light and I'm in the office, placed next to a terrified secretary hiding under her desk. On her desk is the microphone to make the morning announcements. Another quick flash of light an Barry has gone. I'm sure we'll have an interesting discussion later.
I grabbed the mic and turned it on. "This is your battle announcer, and I'll be guiding you super students to victory. We need more students to the Gym immediately." I said, hoping the positive attitude would be infectious. You three outside Mr. Franklin's English class, and the five of you by the trophy case, go go go. Also the nine of you in stalls on the second floor bathrooms, hurry the hell up changing and go to the gym!"
I could sense whole the student body. Adrenaline had been pumping for a few seconds because of the whole... being shot at, and groped by a hot shirtless boy... And then fucking creepo Barry showed up to slap away the euphoria and focus me. I've never been able to sense so much at once, and so clearly. Adrenaline is really a hell of a drug.
Looking through the mind of one of the fire powered kids, I saw trouble and called for backup for him, "There are a dozen flamethrowing dog robots that just dropped into the basketball courts. Could the three of you ice masters in the bio lab come out and freeze the whole area please?"
Another elite walker robot dropped from a portal near the parking lot, and I call in Thunder and Lightning, the really poorly named team made up and Kevin and Markus Jones. They both use lightning, neither of them uses any kind of sound, or shockwave type attacks, they really oughta go with Lightning and Lightning II or something. Regardless of their stupid name scheme, they have been critical in killing the seemingly endless waves of robot warriors dropping from portals near them. Electricity is, no surprise, extra good at killing robots. The robots won't stop coming though, not until we get those portals closed.
Kenichi, the exchange student, he's got portal powers. The only student here that does. He might be able to close the portals, and end this battle if only...
"There is a portal master amongst the student body. Please. I know you're out there. I know you're scared, your power doesn't amplify your body at all, neither does mine. But your power is the only one that can end this!" I pause a moment for a breath, "Rally! Rally with your classmates. Wear a shirt you've cut into a mask if you must to hide your identity, but we need you! Rise Portal Master, Rise to meet your destiny and close these portals!"
Amber, the girl with the power of potent pinkness, was the first to notice Kenichi wearing a 'ninja mask' he'd made from one of the other student's discard shirts. He was trying to close a portal that had opened in the hall outside the room they were in. It was flickering but not quite closing. Amber's a cheerleader, and of all the costumes the students had put on, hers was the least disguise of them all... it was just, a pink version of her cheerleader outfit, but Kenichi was into it. And when cheered him on, he closed that portal. Amber rallied some of the other students faster and more efficiently than I could have, what with her bubbly pink personality, and powers of pinkness, and she cheered on Kenichi and the others.
Being escorted like he was the president of Earth himself, Kenichi, with Amber cheering him on the whole way, started walking through the school closing portals left and right. With every portal closed his escort grew, until a hundred future heroes charged together as one back into the quad to where there was a massive portal moving up into the sky as it began to drop a massive mecha-sized bot. It got to about the pelvis of the massive bot when Kenichi snapped his fingers and the massive portal snapped shut, through the bot, killing it before it could even finish spawning. Amber threw herself at him and kissed him, and some of the jocks tossed him up into the air, like the hero of the day he was.
As their celebration settled down a bit, a blue portal opened, perpendicular to the ground this time. Everyone took a fighting stance until a Mrs Infinity with a Clipboard walked out, behind her, a handful of Super Scientists and government looking suit types. At the same time a portal opened into the office, right next to me, and another Infinity stepped out, our normal teacher Infinity, and the portal closed. I recognized the tiny scar under the right eye of this one, this was our chemistry teacher.
"Anne, my dear, do me a favor and don't read the minds of those adults in suits, nor should you announce what you find inside over the loud speakers. That would be especially inappropriate to do." She winked at me and smiled. Then she walked off whistling toward the copier as though she had some very important copying to do.
I took a minute to collect myself before I started reading these strangers. Always easier to read people I know, you know. When I was ready, I picked up the microphone, it was on rather long cable because the principal was too lazy to walk out of his office, so I danced away from the secretary as she realized something was afoot.
"Hello Again Student Body! It is I, Your Battle Announcer and friend, here with a post battle announcement. We've all just been part of a surprise training experiment that the adults have subjected us too. We were intentionally all brought to this school because ALL of us have powers, so... now we know."

Hi all,
I am a graduate of a tier 1 MBA college in India. This post is about how you can ace the first few months of your MBA college, regardless of your college or its rankings.
Section 1: Placement Committee
Placement committee is the group of students who help with placements. They reach out to and onboard recruiters, prepare students and facilitate the hiring process. Second year placement committee members get the first year students placed and vice versa. Around 80% of the placement committee members get the best jobs on the campus. But they also need to work very hard. During placement cycles, they typically get 4-5 hours of sleep, and have poor social life. If you are inclined to join the placement committee, here is how you can prepare.

1. Temperament: placement committee members selection happens in the first few weeks. A placement committee member should be calm and professional at all times. Even if you are not, you need to pretend to be this. Pre joining your college and after joining it, don't get into any controversy. Don't pick fights on WhatsApp groups or do anything that makes you look mercurial. Be respectful to your seniors and do what they say, even if they are being absurd. A junior placement committee member needs to be someone that the senior placement committee members can train and mould. So pretend to be a subservient junior who is always respecting and looking for guidance from their seniors. Having said that, always pretend to have impeccable honesty.
   
2. Information: You will have several rounds of interview before you are selected in the placement committee. These rounds would include a range of things like tasks (prepare a presentation you'd give to a new recruiter on why they should come to your campus), stress interviews, role plays (talk to an angry HR who wants to blacklist your college because some student from your campus fucked up), prospecting (get names and numbers of 20 HR recruiters) etc. You can start preparing for these interviews from right now. Carefully read your college's placement reports for the last 5 years. Put the data on a sheet, try to find patters, any insights you can tell in your placement committee interviews (example in the last 5 years, we have had less companies from BFSI fields, we should reach out to recruiters from this domain). Now do the same for your peer MBA colleges. By peer colleges, I mean colleges where the median CTC is just as yours, and you both feature +/- 5 in all relevant rankings. Look at hard numbers, the median, average ctc, batch profiles, learn terms like mep, audited report, difference between rsu and espos etc. Other than placement reports, NIRF reports and mandatory discolorue reports for all colleges have far more data on placement stats.
   

Placement committee interviews are often a test of your grit and perseverance. There will be many rounds, at odd hours. Theyll girll you, learn to say sorry and accept your mistakes.
This makes it look like the placement committee is the place to be, but in most colleges, placement committee is a cesspool of toxicity, abuse and bullying. That discussion is for another day. But if placements are your primary focus, you need try to get into the placement committee
Section 2: Timeline
This is the timeline for 2 MBA programs. Things might change in your college by +/- 2 months.
Semester 1: June- Sept 2024: You enter the college. The first few days are the hoax week, where the seniors or the second year MBA students will try to soft-rag you. Endure if you can, don't participate if you can't. It will stop in a few days, the seniors will tell you it was all a prank and you all start afresh. Now committee selections start. There are many student run committees in a college like the placement committee. Some committees like the student affairs, or the finance or the consulting committee can have a lot of heft on your campus and it might be a good idea to join them. But more or less, other than the placement committee, membership of no other committee has a lot of impact on your placements. They are good way to find and network with some like minded people on your campus. You will also start working on your CVs. To make a good CV, take an excel sheet and start writing your autobiography, ever cell is one event in your life. Example: 8th standard results, 8th standard 100m race runner up etc. Write down as many achivements as you can, no matter how small or distant they are. Now audit, for how many of these achivements, do you have a proof? Proof is something which shows that the achievement happened without doubt. For example you say that your boss at work gave you the best employee award. If your placement committee member sends an email to your boss on their work email id, will they reply back? That is what I mean by proofs. Remove all the achivements without proofs, now the remaining achivements with proofs are your CV pointers. You will mix and match to make them your CV. Something like: Recived top grades in 18/23 courses in the first year of engineering is also an achivement, something you can prove easily. So open an excel sheet and start noting all your achievements like these.
Semester 2: Oct-Dec 2024: This is the Summer internship selection semester. Summer internship is the 2-3 month internship program that you'll do in 2025 summer as a part of your MBA program. Companies of all types will come on your campus, shortlist some students based on CV/aptitude tests and select from them via GD/PI. The exact process of selection varies across campuses but for most, in happens in clusters and day wise.
Semester 3: Jan-Mar 2025: This is pretty much the semester where all the events and parties take place. Have fun :)
Summer Internship: April-June 2025: Based on the company that selects you, you go to work with them for 2-3 months. This is usually very hectic because you will have co-interns from other b schools and everyone will be fighting for PPOs. Pre placement offers (PPO) are awarded by companies based on your performance in summer internships. If you get a PPO, and you accept the PPO then your summer internship company promises to hire you once you are done with your MBA in a year. This is a win win, as the company could test you and block you in advance and you are pretty much done with your MBA since you are now placed. In tier 1 b schools, you are allowed to reject your PPOs, tier 2 and 3 b schools would not be this flexible.
Semester 4: July-Sept 2025: You are now a senior! Congratulations! If you have a PPO, you are sorted. If you don't, you move your gears towards working on your final placements. This semester is primarily spent on selecting your juniors in your clubs and committees and guiding them for their summer internship preparation. This semester also has a lot of case competitions. These are essentially competitions that many companies host on platforms like Unstop, Mettle etc. A case competition is typically a problem like: Help PepsiCo launch a new healthy drink. You make a solution and compete with other teams across b schools. Winning teams are offered cash prizes and sometimes an opportunity to intern or interview with the host company, PepsiCo in this case. Case competitions therefore are a great way to get an offer outside the traditional placement process.
Semester 5: Oct-Dec 2025: Similar to Semester 4. For some colleges the placement process starts. These are called the final placements where all the students who didn't get, or rejected their PPO are invited. Typically 40-70% of the batch sits for the final placement. The same cycle repeats, you make your CV, you give tests, get shortlisted, go for GD/PI and the get final offers.
Semester 6: Jan-March 2026: The final placements are staggered so they sometimes spill over to this semester. This is also when you have your farewells and a lot of events.
Post March 2026: You have your convocation, you take trips with your friends and by June 2026, you join the company you got either via your summer placement PPO or case competition or final placements.
Section 3: Finances
Your fees can vary from 20-30 lakhs. Tier 1 college students typically get loans easily without any collateral or co-borrower. The rate varies from 7-9%. You will also get a 6 month moratorium, which means you will need to start paying your EMIs from November 2026 onwards. The EMI can range from 25-35 thousand per month depending on the tenure of your loan.
For tier 2 and 3 colleges, the difficulty to secure loan would increase. You might now need a collateral and/or a co-borrower like a parent.
CTC: Your package can vary from 20-30 lakhs depending on your college. Good companies typically have a straightforward CTC with no absurd or confusing components like huge variable pays, ESOPS, huge joining/retention bonus etc.
As a general rule, take the median package of your college. Lets say is 20 lakhs. Now multiple that with 70%, 14 lakhs, thats your post tax in-hand CTC after removing Gratuity/PF etc. If your fees is 20 lakhs, then your EMI will be around 25k, which is 3 lakhs per year. 14-3 is 11 lakhs. So your in hand income post tax and post education loan emi will be around 90k. Your company will likely be in a metro, the expenses there will be around 50k. You'll have 40k per month to save or use for big expenses like vacations, savings etc. These are very generalised numbers. I would recommend you make an excel sheet and try to get the exact numbers based on your college and situation. This will help you set realistic expectations about life post MBA.
Section 4: Academics
Every college, no matter what tier, has both, good professors and bad. Ask your seniors and try to find the good ones. Some young professors can be a great source of learning and guidance too. I usually recommend to skip engaging a lot with bad profs (bad content, bad delivery or both). You can easily compensate the learnings of the bad profs from YouTube, Coursera or old school methods like Library.
Grades don't really matter for summer internship since you don't have enough grades released by then, but they do matter in the final placements as many companies shortlist based on your MBA grades.
Some colleges have a culture of failing 5-10% of the batch. Failing a year might mean repeating or dropping out of MBA altogether. Talk to seniors and make sure that you understand the academic rigour on your campus and prioritise your commitment to academics accordingly.
Section 5: Love, friendships and networking
Love: colleges are a great way of finding relationships and more. Since average age of an incoming student is 24, most people are more mature and clear about what they want. Be open to new experience, and allow yourself to feel love. Do what you like, and don't judge others for what they want for themselves. As long as its consensual, everything is ok. Your values are not universal, dont look at others from that lens.
Friendships: some people make good groups and have a great time. Some stay solo all through 2 years. Do what you like. It can be hard to break into groups and its ok. My only advice is to be kind and generous. Help everyone you can, respect people and their choices, don't gossip or pick fights and you'll most likely end up with friends for life and some great groups to party and have fun with.
Networking: This is every introverts's nightmare. I don't want to lie to you and tell you that networking doesn't matter. It does. Your batchmates and juniors and seniors will give you refferals, leads and help you when you need it. If you are an introvert, my advice is that you figure out what triggers your anxiety and work accordingly. Lets say you can't talk to people in person, no worries. Let's make a nice LinkedIn account and reach out to your seniors from a few years ago. Ask them on LinkedIn DMs if they can review your CV or guide about what you can expect if you get a job in their field. If they say yes, get on the call and talk. Recent graduates will generously give you time and this is what networking is. It will give you confidence to do this in person with your batchmates and co-interns.
Miscellaneous: Campuses in non-probation states will have a culture of alcohol and other intoxicatants. Its ok if you don't wanna do it, don't judge others who are doing it. If you want to do it, make sure you don't over do it.
Section 6: Pre-MBA
Doctors: Visit your GP, dentist and psychiatrist. If you have never visited them before, find a nice one. Tell them you will be going through very hectic 2 years, what should you do. They'll offer general check up, blood work and maybe some SOS pills if needed. Do this to get on top of your health, especially mentally. If you haven't been through a rough mental health patch in a few years or ever, now is a good time to reflect and prevent damage in future. Learn vocabulary for your feelings like anxiety, depression, your relationship with food, stress, attachment styles etc. Don't take this part lightly, we need to look after ourselves.
Friends and relationships: Long distance relationships find it very hard to survive a MBA because the non-MBA partner typically does not understand the haste and the bullshit that happens here. Make sure you build a strong base if you are taking your relationship with you on the campus. You will barely get any time for your relationship in the first few months, and no time for your friends back home. Make sure your friends know that this is the hectic life of MBA and not your disinterest in them. I feel like scheduling 1 hour video call every Sunday afternoon is a nice way to keep LDR friends group active. Make sure you have very strong friendships outside MBA to keep you sane on lonely days in the campus.
Clothes and grooming: Do whatever it takes to make you feel confident on the campus. It can be from getting a hair patch for your balding head to start learning how to do make up. Change your fashion style. Ask your siblings or friends with better style to redo your wardrobe. MBA is a great time to reinvent yourself. Let go of stupid judgements and gender roles and do whatever that helps you feel good.
Communication style: Fluent English, both written and verbal will help. Speak infront of a mirror and record yourself if needed. Speak slowly and use simple words. 1-2 month before your MBA starts is good enough time to polish some dull edges.
Skills: Make sure your Excel and PowerPoint skills are good. You'll find enough tutorials on YouTube to practice and sharpen your skills. Both these programs are a bedrock of any MBA grad.
Section 7: Closing Advice
My MBA journey was incredible and I am very grateful for that. I wishing the same for all of you, if you join this year or next.
Every MBA campus has an unique culture and a story. Make sure you share your colors with the campus and take some of it from the campus too. Look after everyone around you, everyone needs help. Through bad days and good, remember that MBA at best is just 2% of your life. There is a lot more exciting stuff left!!
I won't be able to take DMs, so please comment if you want to ask me something. All the best!!

“Drop zone approaching. Get ready.” Called the dropship’s pilot from far up in a cockpit somewhere. Casper’s body was encased in his own pilot casket and felt none of the violent shaking and sudden drops as the craft rapidly dropped into the atmosphere, heating its belly until it glowed a brilliant orange.
However, the rig that the young man was piloting, still shook and rattled in its clamps. Thanks to the fearless sensations of piloting such a sturdy piece of machinery, unlike his body that was fallible; he never felt worry or fear from these worrying judders.The optics of the mech were already online and scanning the bay carefully. He’d zoomed in on the only other creature, a geckin, that was in sight too many times to count already. Casper shut off the optics as the geckin, unaware it was being observed, picked its nose before happily consuming the prize it had retrieved.
[Grim.] Casper sent, mildly annoyed that emotions never came across in the text-like messages the two pilots could exchange without speaking.
{What?} Qik returned, in a separate craft that likewise, was dropping into the combat area.
[Our benefactors. Just watched one put their whole ass hand up one nostril.]
{Yummy. Looked like your breakfast, didn’t it?}
The nutrient slop, or ‘slurry’ as they oh so appetisingly called it, was what Casper had to eat both in the morning and at night if he wanted to maintain his already drastically lowered weight. It had the consistency of the word ‘goop’ and, now it had been pointed out to him, the colour of geckin snot.
[I am literally never going to eat again.]
Casper didn’t get a reply, but clicked his optics with the feeling that Qik was laughing or grinning in her own rig at his words. They remained in silence for a minute more before the geckin Casper was watching touched a hand to his own ear before making his way to the exit.
“Inbound! Ten seconds!”
The digging geckin fled the room as moments later the floor beneath Casper’s feet opened and a roaring wind blasted up and into the space. The young pilot couldn’t tilt his body down, so most of his view was obscured by his own body, but he could see a dark, grey landscape far below what would be his dangling feet.
{I’m dropping after you, my original LZ is no good. Get eyes on the operation area, don’t approach yet.}
[Yes ma’am.]
{You’re going to make a fine merc.}
“Dropping!”
Despite not ‘having’ a stomach, Casper still felt a phantom one fall out from beneath him as the sturdy metal clamps that had held his rig steady during the transport, released him as one. Gravity took hold of him, along with inertia and both he and his rig were launched from the dropship at great speed toward an infinite ground. As soon as the mech was cleared, the craft did a sharp upward swing, arcing into the clouds and away from any danger that lurked below.
Casper kept himself upright as he fell despite feeling himself tilt forwards and backwards. Blue streaks of his boosters fired in short, sharp bursts, righting himself perfectly as he threatened to tumble. As he careened toward the pockmarked terrain at speed, the man checked he was coming in at an angle, roughly forty five degrees to ensure he could slide to a stop, bleeding his speed without pummelling the ground at full force.
It wasn’t a danger to do that, but he wasn’t specifically built for that.Some rigs could dramatically enter like that, and it was overall better for them to punch straight down, some even incorporating an air burst landing deployment, igniting the surrounding area of the drop point in an explosion that would merely liquidise the internals of anything organic in the area. Those rigs were super heavies, designed for ‘hot’ drops.
But that wasn’t Casper. He’d never wanted that style of machine. Zeet and he, along with Qik, had chosen from a wide selection of parts to create the mech that ‘felt’ closest to what he would be, if ‘he’, Casper, were a mech and not merely piloting one.
The result? As he fell, he felt light, like he could almost glide down if he wanted to. He felt as if one arrange twitch of his shoulder would get the same from his metal body.
He felt ‘right’.
It took a scant few seconds before his legs hit the terrain with such force it sent rocks and dirt flying all around in a great cloud that obscured him from suddenly awake and watching eyes in the distance for a moment. A fraction of a second later, those eyes watched a dark grey machine fly out of the dust cloud on skis, trailing smoke and dirt in its wake that followed it like vapour trails from a jet.
The mech skidded to a halt a hundred metres away from its landing site, its legs bracing into the skid and a series of three large blue cones of fire slowing him to a halt. It remained still, its two optic ports, scanning and watching the city where the unseen eyes watched it back, undetected by the interloper. The long blade in its hand was not ignored, the machine held it out to one side, the metal perfectly flat. The rain that hadn’t ceased in three weeks, merely pinged and beaded along the perfect edge.
The fisheye lens that was watching, clicked its aperture beforing zooming in rapidly and reading the stencilled text across the interloper’s chest, reporting it to its absent masters.
S P E C T R E
Meanwhile, Casper kept low. He used one hand to brace the front of his mech against the ground as he lowered himself further. Chances were, if there was anyone in the bombed out mega city in the distance, they would have noticed the giant walking mech falling from the sky and causing the same size dust cloud as a building falling over would.
Then again, they also could have dismissed his landing as another shell fired from the distant geckin artillery that had peppered the city with a sustained bombardment before he and Qik arrived for the last forty eight hours. The enemy wouldn’t know when the bombardment would stop, they could use this ignorance to gain a brief element of surprise.
{Spectre, I’m down and inbound. Anything?}
A friendly ‘blip’ began to grow in Casper’s perception. The motion radar, or ‘MR’, along with both ‘friendly’ signals still felt strange to Casper, but it was one of the aspects he had demanded from Zeet. A low profile for himself, but a more sensitive sensor suite for him. He wanted to see the enemy, but not have them see him.
What it meant was, he could ‘tell’ where something was, without needing to look away at a radar readout, or even flick his eyes to a compass with markers. A tiny advantage, but one that had already served him well, way back when he had first fought Qik.
At this time, there was no movement from the dead city.
[Negative Scrub. No one is moving.]
A red mech appeared at Casper’s side, its recon unit briefly turning his way, nodding before turning back. Qik’s mech, compared to Casper’s, felt clunky to the human now. It had none of the articulation his has. When he turned her way to nod back at her, his shoulder pulled back, his arm dropped a fraction. He was fluid. Her whole torso turned, her ‘head’ bobbed, then her whole frame twisted back. It wasn’t her fault, but now the man knew what to look for, he had access to whole other level of movement compared to hers.
She knelt, her body remaining upright, while he stayed low, his legs supporting him, but his whole body brought low by his efforts. His profile was far lower than hers. Still, she knew combat better than him.
He’d seen her in a fight through several of their training sessions. It was one thing to be able to move out of the way of incoming shots, it was another not to expose oneself in the first place.
Casper, or rather, ‘Spectre’ as was his code name on mission, focused up.
The pair of them began to systematically scan the seemingly dead city. Spires and towers were burnt out, some having toppled over. There were ssypno forces in the area, the geckin intel had explained that. Since ssypno equipment was high end and dangerous, it was harder for them to replace it.
Their job was to make this planet expensive for the noble conducting this battle. It was the only language that kind of person understood.
[Scrub, I got a question.]
{Go on.}
[Why ‘Scrub’ of all things?]
When Qik had offhandedly told Casper that her own callsign was ‘Scrub’ she was offended and confused when he barked a single coughing laugh before getting a reign on it. She was deadly serious and rather proud of her callsign. The young man, besides an errant comment, had left it there, but now felt as good a time as any to ask; why ‘Scrub’ of all things?
{Because I scour the battlefield clean. My ops are always described as the cleanest, unless I'm working with someone. They’re always the messy ones.}
[I’m just saying, humans might interpret it differently.]
{You said, but I didn’t spend my career building a name for myself to just change it on a whim. You read?}
[Aye aye Scrub.]
{Right, let's get this done and then we can get paid and you can get a taste of the good life. You ready?}
[When you are.]
Casper urged himself forward as he felt Qik’s ‘blip’ move away to the west, taking a wide route around the edge of the city itself. His ‘feet’ were elongated, turning them into skis that glided across the terrain with amazing ease. His spinal mount, a dedicated jetpack pushed him forwards with vents that could open and close in an instant, allowing him to adjust and change direction with a single thought. He could still walk and run, if he wanted to, but the idea was the ability to lean into the slide and ‘skate’ across the landscape, pushing against the ground with the side of his feet.
The speed at which the city approached and became large, imposing buildings that suddenly dwarfed him, was alarming. He slowed and dropped into a run, then walk, as he made it into the city proper, using the wide streets to fit his mech between the buildings with ease. He kept his blade held low, in both hands, ready to bring it up and swing at a moment’s notice.
Before reaching this planet, Casper had never held a weapon before, but now, with copious amounts of software all feeding him instincts and knowledge that wasn’t his, there was a vague sense of longing for a long range weapon, instead of being limited to the length of his blade.
That said, there was nothing for him to attack. He raised the blade to step around another building before lowering out and ready down the next street, but it was just, yet another, empty thoroughfare.
He didn’t need military software to tell when something felt… off.
[Scrub, do you read?]
{Loud and clear Spectre, what's the situation?}
[Zero contacts. MR isn’t picking anything up and there's nothing in the streets. No sign of any mechanised forces. Are we sure we’re in the right place? Are we getting played?]
Casper couldn’t help but think of the contract the geckins had forced him into. In a desperate need to get something more from the human and his unprecedented lack of drifting when mentally piloting a machine, the geckins had not taken it well when he had expressed he wanted to leave. So much so, the only way for him to ‘win’ his freedom, was to complete the op, without getting disabled. If he wasn’t able to walk away from the op, then the geckins, or more specifically, one of their corpo-nations would *own* Casper outright, changing his designation from a person, to a ‘thing’.
Whilst the geckins hated the ssypno with a passion, a trick or trap to retain access to Casper, might not be outside their morals.
{I wouldn’t put it past the geckins to try something, but if the op is a wash, then they still have to pay us and we’re free and clear. They wouldn’t have fed us bad intel for us to go out here for nothing.}
The Spectre mech peered down street after street, holding the blade out, ready to cut anything that moved or scuttled in half, yet each time; it was devoid of life until he found himself, quite deep into the city.
Closing his optics for a moment, Casper willed himself to send a ping out, searching for *anything* that might show where his enemy was hiding. All he needed as a fraction of movement.
He focused, his mind mentally tuning the sensitiveity of his radar, it sensed the rain, a beehive of noise that was too much, so with an errant twitch of his head, he tuned out the rain. He sensed himself, receiving false reports of a mech, but it was only him. He removed that too. Blind to the outside world, he stayed in place, reaching out with invisible hands, groping blindly for anything.
There were creatures, things that scuttled and things that moved. Living organic creatures of small size. They reminded him of rats, but no rats survived the destruction of Earth to his knowledge. The things were squidgits, vermin if left unchecked, cattle if desired. They scurried and hid in the sewers far beneath Casper’s mech’s feet. Oddly, whilst plenty of the buildings still had these creatures inside, several, were *devoid* of movement. Not a single living thing could be felt by his sensitive suites.
The optics snapped open, and clicked again. Turning his head towards the nearest towering building, he leaned forwards, trying to peer through the destroyed structure to the otherside, but found it dark and unable to see the whole way. This was only one of the nearby buildings that the squidgits avoided for some reason. The building was a husk, burnt out from some unchecked fire, most likely caused by the geckin shelling. The inside was too dark to see anything.
With a mere thought, a floodlight attached to Casper’s head, winked on and bathed the building and its bombed out floors in a brilliant white light.
The sea of cyclops eyes constricted to tiny points as the sea of fisheye lenses reacted to the sudden wash of bright light. In turn, the countless laser cannons strapped to their spines whined as electricity suddenly washed through them.
The MR was suddenly bombarded with with a crowd of movement as the buildings all around Casper came to life.Casper merely ducked as the space his mech had occupied only moments before was dissected by no less than seven beams, all wishing to decapitate him in one fell swoop.
[They’re in the buildings!] He sent frantically, as a wave of scuttling mechanised bots surged from the building and landed on his mech.
Not wanting them on him for a single second, Casper brought his arm up to protect himself and braced his shoulder. Spectre’s main booster, sitting firmly in the dead centre of his back, roared to life and launched the human’s rig into the building and out the other side in a shower of destroyed rebar and materials. The smaller multi-legged technicals were sent flying in all directions, having no hope of holding onto the mech as it punched through a building.
[Jesus!] Casper exclaimed as he turned his head back and watched the buildings suddenly come alive as each floor seemed to disgorge multiples of the round, bulbous, skittering machines in a manner that reminded the man of infestations from Earth. If his rig had skin, the young man was certain it would be crawling.
Remembering his sword, Casper swung it in a downward swipe along the edge of one of the buildings, cutting clean through two with zero feedback as his sword found zero resistance. The metal hulls sparked and fizzled before burning brightly as they fell despite the rain even as they hit the street below.
Bright lines of light lit up the air between the buildings and scorched down the front of Casper’s mech, leaving deep valleys of burnt metal in their wake. Gritting his teeth,a side vent snapped open and a gout of blue flames pushed his mech sideways by pure instinct, breaking line of sight with the swarm and preventing further damage.
{Spectre, report.}
[Contacts! Lots of contacts!]
{I see them, locking on but I need to see more. Just keep moving!}
[They’re crowding me, how are they this organised?!]
{They’re computers, no living crew. They seem smart, but it’s just a swarm. Stick to the plan!}
Casper barely made it to the next intersection where his rig could fit before he saw the bright yellow lines of the spider tank’s weapons cutting into the concrete like material of the surrounding buildings. He practically dove down the next street and picked up the speed again.
As he glided down the road, he saw yet more of the machines breaking through the exterior walls of the buildings and began crawling down towards the ground.
{Head west; towards me. Try and get as many as you can in one long line.}
[Wilco. One conga line, coming up!]
East, North, East, North, South.
Casper used his boosters to jump from corner to corner, flitting from side to side, avoiding and evading the growing crowd that was mere feet behind him. Any building, or even corner of a building that was in his way was destroyed. He felt like a cannonball, fired from its home and would merely bust through anything foolish enough to get in his way.
The bright streaks of line that burnt and destroyed the concrete around him only served to remind him that the enemy was still on his tail. Despite his confidence, he couldn’t let his guard down. Overconfidence would mean his and Qik’s destruction.
West, North, East, North, West.
When he turned down what had to have been a main artery for the destroyed city in the past, Casper could feel that Qik was roughly in front of him in the far distance, she was just on the very edges of his sensor suite’s range. Firing his boosters, his skis slid him down the road until the spider tanks began to pour onto the main thoroughfare from either side.
Using his sword in an upwards sweeping motion, he cut several through their centre mass, but it was a mere handful out of the seemingly endless hoard that was following. He speared several more on the tips themselves, not slowing his escape in the slightest.
From the distance, Casper watched as countless red lights suddenly appeared on the horizon in a beautiful dazzling sunburst. They hung there for a second before the lights turned into red streaks that raced up into the rainy sky, leaving behind white trails of smoke. They then seemingly paused before Casper’s entire early warning system lit up that he was in the direct path of this bombardment, his fiddling with his sensor suite had left him blind to such threats and had him duck in the very last second as they screamed towards their true targets.
They hadn’t been pausing in the sky, they were arcing towards him.
Spectre leaned forward, nearly toppling forwards, and willed itself onwards, increasing its speed until it began to pull away from the amazingly agile spider tanks.
Moments later, Casper could see the bright flashes of explosions somewhere behind him illuminate the surrounding buildings for a brief second. That didn’t matter. If it was behind him, it wasn’t hitting *him*. Relief washed over him as several of the moving, angry ‘blips’ that had been racing after him winked out of existence.
{Brilliant! Just got a few to mop up, but that was excellent!} Qik sent, as Casper rapidly approached where she waited at the city’s edge. From her bulky torso, several flaps opened as he approached and yet more of the red lights were launched from her. The lights were the burners for the rockets that streaked into the sky before taking a harsh turn and streaking into the city, where Casper suspected that they would rapidly meet some of the creepy, crawling tanks.
The Spectre mech shuddered as one, its various metal parts and hydraulics complaining with a loud crash. Scrub ponderous turned to face Spectre expectantly as the remaining targets seemed reluctant to approach, having had their numbers vastly cut down.
[I hate those things!]
{Yeah, MGUs or AATMGUs to be correct. Automated, all terrain mechanised guard units. Nobody likes them, they’re annoying to get out of an area because you have to expose yourself.}
The two machines stood there a moment, facing the city, scanning for any of the MGUs that decided to pop their head out. Whilst they were constantly scuttling, demanding both of their attention, they were staying out of sight for the moment.
{Thanks for being bait.} Qik sent without prompting. Having Casper’s head turn to face her.
[No worries, I knew you had my back.]
{Always.}
Casper was turning to look back into the city and question if they were going to have to mop up the remaining MGU when there was a flicker of a ‘blip’ in his mind’s eye. He had messed with so much of the sensor suite’s settings and was so focused on the city that he couldn’t make out what he was perceiving straight away.
He didn’t even get a chance to send the [What was that?] as a long missile streaked into the side of Qik’s mech, forcibly sending the rig into the buildings and launching Casper backwards with the force of the blast. He rolled in the air, having his legs go over his head, supported by the jets as they turned him rapidly until the bottom of his skis slapped against the ground again. Sparks and debris flew up into the air as his optics searched for the threat, all the while his sensors pinged Scrub.
Casper watched as a new machine, undetected by his own system until now, flew in from the sky. It had solid wings that jutted out of its back, but before he could even observe more of the aircraft, it flew low, close to the ground before it unfolded into a mech, skidding to a halt at the city’s outskirts.
Two study legs slammed into the asphalt of the landscape. Its arms unfurled and without saying a word or even hesitating for a moment, the two arms opened fire with a rain of flashing lasers that peppered the surrounding buildings and Casper’s mech with hits.
The strikes were damaging, several connections and wires were burnt and fused instantly, forcing Casper to reroute connections and energy as he spun away from the gunfire and slipped into the city. Pressing his back against the building that weathered the new storm from the new threat.
He turned his head and saw the smoking remains of Scrub, the mech that contained Qik. Her legs were missing and the torso portion was scorched all along one side. She had been through into a now collapsed building. She didn’t move.
[Qik?] He sent, dumbfounded as laserfire continued over the sound of sizzling rain.
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