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

Momma made for Pennywise, at her request, an “Annabelle” doll. A Raggedy Anne doll, really. Just like the original haunted doll, movie tropes aside.
Penny’s had it for a while now, and still treasures it. She took it to school for show and tell not long ago, and another girl that she’s befriended fell in love with it.
Pen asked Momma if she could make another just like it just for her.
She’s been working on it for a while now, as she’s had time, and got it finished just today. Gonna give it to Penny to give to her friend.
“It’s perfect” I commented. Can’t tell the two of ‘em apart. A certain girl’s gonna be very happy and surprised. You went to a lot of trouble for someone you don’t even know.”
“I enjoyed it. She’s Penny’s friend, and Penny asked me to. How could I say no?”
Would’ve taken her less time, but she’s a perfectionist. Every tiny stitch and detail has to be just right.
Always been that way. When I first started seeing her, she was working two jobs. A weekend carhop (how I met her), and her full-time job keeping the books and handling payroll for a cotton gin.
I went to pick her up for lunch one day, and sat and waited for two hours while she tracked down a discrepancy and balanced her books. They’d been off by two cents, lol.
Just her nature. I marveled at her. She never left our place to go out in public unless she was looking her best. And for such a tiny girl, she walked tall. Head up and back and shoulders straight and proud. Stalked like a young lioness and moved like a ballroom dancer. Water flowing over stone.
That afternoon of our (now late, lol) lunch date, I still remember the drive. Wind through the window whipping her long hair. She smiling because she knew I kept stealing glances at her.
She took me to a place she said I’d like in another town. Small family owned and operated local restaurant that had been in business for decades. Advised me to let her order for me.
The place was doing a brisk business still, as I followed her to the table she wanted. She drew lingering glances from most of the people in the place. Men, and some women, too. Then I was only beginning to realize just who and what I’d found.
“She’s very ladylike” my Captain once remarked to me. She’d come to see me at work, and he’d watched her, smiling. “She certainly carries herself like one.”
“That she does, Sir. That she does.”
He gave me some advice just before she and I were to be married:
“I’m going to tell you something, OP: it really Will be her and you against the world. That’s not just a saying. You will put her First in all things. Before yourself, before friends, before family, before the Marine Corps. She comes first, always. Do that, and you won’t go wrong. Consider that an order, Sgt, understand?”
“Lima Charley, Captain.”
Good advice.

LESSON 135. If I defend myself I am attacked.
Who would defend himself unless he thought he were attacked, that the attack were real, and that his own defense could save himself? And herein lies the folly of defense; it gives illusions full reality, and then attempts to handle them as real. It adds illusions to illusions, thus making correction doubly difficult. And it is this you do when you attempt to plan the future, activate the past, or organize the present as you wish.
You operate from the belief you must protect yourself from what is happening because it must contain what threatens you. A sense of threat is an acknowledgment of an inherent weakness; a belief that there is danger which has power to call on you to make appropriate defense. The world is based on this insane belief. And all its structures, all its thoughts and doubts, its penalties and heavy armaments, its legal definitions and its codes, its ethics and its leaders and its gods, all serve but to preserve its sense of threat. For no one walks the world in armature but must have terror striking at his heart.
Defense is frightening. It stems from fear, increasing fear as each defense is made. You think it offers safety. Yet it speaks of fear made real and terror justified. Is it not strange you do not pause to ask, as you elaborate your plans and make your armor thicker and your locks more tight, what you defend, and how, and against what?
Let us consider first what you defend. It must be something that is very weak and easily assaulted. It must be something made easy prey, unable to protect itself and needing your defense. What but the body has such frailty that constant care and watchful, deep concern are needful to protect its little life? What but the body falters and must fail to serve the Son of God as worthy host?
Yet it is not the body that can fear, nor be a thing of fear. It has no needs but those which you assign to it. It needs no complicated structures of defense, no health-inducing medicine, no care and no concern at all. Defend its life, or give it gifts to make it beautiful or walls to make it safe, and you but say your home is open to the thief of time, corruptible and crumbling, so unsafe it must be guarded with your very life.
Is not this picture fearful? Can you be at peace with such a concept of your home? Yet what endowed the body with the right to serve you thus except your own belief? It is your mind which gave the body all the functions that you see in it, and set its value far beyond a little pile of dust and water. Who would make defense of something that he recognized as this?
The body is in need of no defense. This cannot be too often emphasized. It will be strong and healthy if the mind does not abuse it by assigning it to roles it cannot fill, to purposes beyond its scope, and to exalted aims which it cannot accomplish. Such attempts, ridiculous yet deeply cherished, are the sources for the many mad attacks you make upon it. For it seems to fail your hopes, your needs, your values and your dreams.
The “self” that needs protection is not real. The body, valueless and hardly worth the least defense, need merely be perceived as quite apart from you, and it becomes a healthy, serviceable instrument through which the mind can operate until its usefulness is over. Who would want to keep it when its usefulness is done?
Defend the body and you have attacked your mind. For you have seen in it the faults, the weaknesses, the limits and the lacks from which you think the body must be saved. You will not see the mind as separate from bodily conditions. And you will impose upon the body all the pain that comes from the conception of the mind as limited and fragile, and apart from other minds and separate from its Source.
These are the thoughts in need of healing, and the body will respond with health when they have been corrected and replaced with truth. This is the body’s only real defense. Yet is this where you look for its defense? You offer it protection of a kind from which it gains no benefit at all, but merely adds to your distress of mind. You do not heal, but merely take away the hope of healing, for you fail to see where hope must lie if it be meaningful.
A healed mind does not plan. It carries out the plans that it receives through listening to wisdom that is not its own. It waits until it has been taught what should be done, and then proceeds to do it. It does not depend upon itself for anything except its adequacy to fulfill the plans assigned to it. It is secure in certainty that obstacles can not impede its progress to accomplishment of any goal that serves the greater plan established for the good of everyone.
A healed mind is relieved of the belief that it must plan, although it cannot know the outcome which is best, the means by which it is achieved, nor how to recognize the problem that the plan is made to solve. It must misuse the body in its plans until it recognizes this is so. But when it has accepted this as true, then is it healed, and lets the body go.
Enslavement of the body to the plans the unhealed mind sets up to save itself must make the body sick. It is not free to be the means of helping in a plan which far exceeds its own protection, and which needs its service for a little while. In this capacity is health assured. For everything the mind employs for this will function flawlessly, and with the strength that has been given it and cannot fail.
It is, perhaps, not easy to perceive that self-initiated plans are but defenses, with the purpose all of them were made to realize. They are the means by which a frightened mind would undertake its own protection, at the cost of truth. This is not difficult to realize in some forms which these self-deceptions take, where the denial of reality is very obvious. Yet planning is not often recognized as a defense.
The mind engaged in planning for itself is occupied in setting up control of future happenings. It does not think that it will be provided for, unless it makes its own provisions. Time becomes a future emphasis, to be controlled by learning and experience obtained from past events and previous beliefs. It overlooks the present, for it rests on the idea the past has taught enough to let the mind direct its future course.
The mind that plans is thus refusing to allow for change. What it has learned before becomes the basis for its future goals. Its past experience directs its choice of what will happen. And it does not see that here and now is everything it needs to guarantee a future quite unlike the past, without a continuity of any old ideas and sick beliefs. Anticipation plays no part at all, for present confidence directs the way.
Defenses are the plans you undertake to make against the truth. Their aim is to select what you approve, and disregard what you consider incompatible with your beliefs of your reality. Yet what remains is meaningless indeed. For it is your reality that is the “threat” which your defenses would attack, obscure, and take apart and crucify.
What could you not accept, if you but knew that everything that happens, all events, past, present and to come, are gently planned by One Whose only purpose is your good? Perhaps you have misunderstood His plan, for He would never offer pain to you. But your defenses did not let you see His loving blessing shine in every step you ever took. While you made plans for death, He led you gently to eternal life.
Your present trust in Him is the defense that promises a future undisturbed, without a trace of sorrow, and with joy that constantly increases, as this life becomes a holy instant, set in time, but heeding only immortality. Let no defenses but your present trust direct the future, and this life becomes a meaningful encounter with the truth that only your defenses would conceal.
Without defenses, you become a light which Heaven gratefully acknowledges to be its own. And it will lead you on in ways appointed for your happiness according to the ancient plan, begun when time was born. Your followers will join their light with yours, and it will be increased until the world is lighted up with joy. And gladly will our brothers lay aside their cumbersome defenses, which availed them nothing and could only terrify.
We will anticipate that time today with present confidence, for this is part of what was planned for us. We will be sure that everything we need is given us for our accomplishment of this today. We make no plans for how it will be done, but realize that our defenselessness is all that is required for the truth to dawn upon our minds with certainty.
For fifteen minutes twice today we rest from senseless planning, and from every thought that blocks the truth from entering our minds. Today we will receive instead of plan, that we may give instead of organize. And we are given truly, as we say:
If I defend myself I am attacked. But in defenselessness I will be strong, and I will learn what my defenses hide.
Nothing but that. If there are plans to make, you will be told of them. They may not be the plans you thought were needed, nor indeed the answers to the problems which you thought confronted you. But they are answers to another kind of question, which remains unanswered yet in need of answering until the Answer comes to you at last.
All your defenses have been aimed at not receiving what you will receive today. And in the light and joy of simple trust, you will but wonder why you ever thought that you must be defended from release. Heaven asks nothing. It is hell that makes extravagant demands for sacrifice. You give up nothing in these times today when, undefended, you present yourself to your Creator as you really are.
He has remembered you. Today we will remember Him. For this is Eastertime in your salvation. And you rise again from what was seeming death and hopelessness. Now is the light of hope reborn in you, for now you come without defense, to learn the part for you within the plan of God. What little plans or magical beliefs can still have value, when you have received your function from the Voice for God Himself?
Try not to shape this day as you believe would benefit you most. For you can not conceive of all the happiness that comes to you without your planning. Learn today. And all the world will take this giant stride, and celebrate your Eastertime with you. Throughout the day, as foolish little things appear to raise defensiveness in you and tempt you to engage in weaving plans, remind yourself this is a special day for learning, and acknowledge it with this:
This is my Eastertime. And I would keep it holy. I will not defend myself, because the Son of God needs no defense against the truth of his reality.

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

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

First Post: https://www.reddit.com/CradledDnDStories/comments/x8zwpv/athos_1_a_new_world_of_opportunity/
Last Post: https://www.reddit.com/CradledDnDStories/comments/1b2taqi/athos_35_mirror_mirro
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Stay away, wilted rose, there has never been a place for you here.
My intuition told me about you. Your ego verified. I knew you only for months and knew the truth, yet you still had a whole family, blinded by manipulation for over a decade.
Unfortunately, for you, your unwillingness to humble yourself has now left you utterly alone. Exactly where you deserve to be.
Life handed you two choices. And both choices valued priceless. Yet you couldn't choose, because in some fucked up world, you believe you were warranted both. Despite how illelogical it really was.
I revealed your truth because it hurt me, too. Your secrets were burdening my soul. Even before actual validation. You have done the most unforgiving things one person can do, and I conveyed your wretchedness without hesitation. Selfish selflessness.
You had your great love. Your supposed soul mate. The love you bragged about. But at the same time, you had the love of their brother. A love you never earned. The love you had to keep secret. The one you SHOULD have married, huh?
It just doesn't seem like manipulation when you're benefitting with no repurcussion. But to have felt accomplished, manipulating a child for years, is unspeakable. And to think that child thought it was love, is saddening.
J was only twelve years old when your atrocious grooming began. You were a grown woman, and despite your naive nature, had years to realize what you were doing was wrong and actually disgusting.
This brother grew into a wonderful, fully conscious man. He took his abuse and planned to go to the grave with it. How terrible it must have felt to be in love, at so young, and never able to share it.
To think it was acceptable to be second choice to your brother. To cater to a woman whom already made her vows. To go so many years accepting a false love and encouragement. So brainwashed, all of this impulsively seemed right.
For years, you wove a deceitful web. Managed to hide your adultery from your spouse, secretly having an affair with his younger brother. But little did you know, I would soon come and rip your perfect vile world apart.
I was summoned to tell your lie. You were too cowardly to do it yourself. You didn't deserve half the love you received. You cannot take something that special for granted.
I was blessed with a beautiful, but broken, man. These are wounds that you inflicted. And somehow, unbeknownst to me, you think your choices were justified. Your pathological lies make up for predatory choices. But we see through those, now.
I'm sorry for the hearts that may have broken while I uncovered this affliction. I know I didn't create this pain, but it hurts ME knowing the person who caused this, sees no fault of their own. I'm embarrassed for you.
I am happy, however, you could not make a choice for yourself. I would possibly be without him now, if you, chose your steps correctly. But you need to see that he gives his love to me, openly. He does not have to hide anymore. He no longer has to carry this lie.
I know it hurts you to watch someone you 'love' become someone you don't know (your actual FB status). I'm overjoyed with what you left behind, and preferred to never have completely. I'll never hurt him like you did. I'm only here to love him correctly, honestly, and happily.
The love this man provides is nothing short of magical. The love we make is raw and real, and never something he's taught to hide. I am here for just him, vulnerable, and honest. I'm strong enough to live with the outcome of your delusions. I'll fight again to demonstrate.
Your shameless cycle here is complete. You wanted too much. You broke the golden rule, and thought you got away with it. My name, that day, was karma. And now you've lost it all. All the love you chose to ignore x2.
Don't pride yourself in having to do with the extraordinary man J has become. I know you like to claim credit for your immaculate significance in who he is today. Or whatever situation you put your sticky little hands on.
You have falsely idolized yourself for way too long. Carelessly led by your own immaturity for the better part of ten years. This disposition shows how stupid you really are.
You even tried to take credit for MY homecoming in J's life; once you realized he was no longer yours to control. You really pathologically think you had enough competence in you to make that happen?
Continue to blame others for your terrible actions. I honestly don't think anyone is listening anymore. Your premise is visible like a disease we all know to stay far away from.
You aren't a rose. You're a defective human and a pedophile.
-Madison

In the heart of San Luis Obispo, CA, where picturesque landscapes beckon and outdoor adventures await, there's nothing quite like watching your dog revel in the freedom of off-leash exploration. Yet, with this newfound liberty comes responsibility, and ensuring your furry companion is well-trained is paramount for their safety and your peace of mind.
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Why Off-Leash Training Matters
Off-leash training isn't just about giving your dog the freedom to roam; it's about fostering a deeper connection and understanding between you and your canine companion. It's about building trust, enhancing obedience, and ensuring safety in any environment.
When your dog is trained to respond reliably off-leash, it opens up a world of possibilities for adventure. From hiking trails to beach outings, your dog can accompany you off-leash with confidence and control, enriching both of your lives.
The DognPooch Approach
At DognPooch, we believe in a positive, reward-based approach to training that emphasizes communication, consistency, and trust. Our experienced trainers work closely with you and your dog to create a personalized off-leash training plan tailored to your goals and your dog's unique needs.
Our training begins with establishing a solid foundation of basic obedience commands, such as recall, sit, stay, and heel, all while on-leash. We then gradually transition to off-leash work in controlled environments, gradually increasing the level of distraction and difficulty as your dog progresses.
Key Components of Off-Leash Training

1. Recall (Come Command): Teaching your dog a reliable recall is the cornerstone of off-leash training. We use positive reinforcement techniques to make coming when called the highlight of your dog's day.
2. Focus and Attention: Off-leash training isn't just about teaching commands; it's about capturing and maintaining your dog's focus in distracting environments. We teach techniques to keep your dog engaged and attentive to you, even amidst exciting stimuli.
3. Proofing Behaviors: Dogs don't generalize well, so it's crucial to practice commands in a variety of settings and situations. Our trainers gradually introduce distractions and challenges to proof your dog's obedience in real-world scenarios.
4. Safety Precautions: Safety is our top priority. Before transitioning to off-leash work, we ensure your dog has reliable obedience skills and is equipped with proper identification and, if necessary, GPS tracking devices.

The Benefits of Off-Leash Training

1. Enhanced Bonding: Off-leash training strengthens the bond between you and your dog, as you learn to communicate effectively and trust each other in any situation.
2. Freedom and Adventure: Imagine the joy of exploring the great outdoors with your dog off-leash by your side. Off-leash training opens up a world of adventure for both of you.
3. Improved Behavior: Dogs who receive proper off-leash training are often better behaved both on and off-leash. They learn self-control, impulse management, and social skills that carry over into all areas of their lives.
4. Safety and Peace of Mind: With reliable off-leash obedience, you can trust your dog to respond appropriately in any situation, whether it's encountering other dogs, wildlife, or unexpected hazards.

Join Us on the Off-Leash Journey
Ready to unleash your dog's full potential and embark on a journey of freedom and adventure? Join us at DognPooch for the ultimate off-leash training experience in San Luis Obispo, CA. Contact us today to schedule a consultation and take the first step towards mastering the art of off-leash living with your furry best friend.

AFTER THE RELEASE OF CHAPTER 1114 WE GOT TO KNOW ABOUT THE TRUTH OF JOYBOY AND NIKA THAT THOSE TWO WERE DIFFERENT INDIVIDUALS AND LUFFY CARRIES THE WILL OF BOTH IN HIM. WHENEVER 5 ELDERS OR IMU SAMA SEES HIM THEY CALL HIM NIKA AS IF THEY KNEW HIM VERY CLOSELY BUT OTHER MEMBERS OF THE DAWN PIRATES CALL HIM JOYBOY LIKE ZUNESHA THIS THEORY TELLS THAT IMU AND 5 ELDERS WERE ALSO GODS LIKE SUN GOD NIKA BUT IN HUNGER FOR POWER THEY COMMITED EVIL AND BECAME DEVILS AND LOCKED NIKA AND AFTER A LONG WAR A PERSON CAME WITH THE SAME WILL AND BODY OF NIKA NAMED AS JOYBOY BUT HE WAS NOT ABLE TO DEFEAT THEM AND GOT LOCKED IN IMU SAMAS ICE CHAMBER AND 200 YEARS AGO HE WAS SAVED BY TOKI WHO WAS TRAVELLING IN TIME BUT JOYBOY TOLD HER TO GO 200 YEARS INTO THE FUTURE IN SEARCH OF NEXT JOYBOY . THIS MEANS IMU AND 5 ELDERS ARE ALIVE FOR MORE THAN 5000 YEARS AS SUN GOD NIKA WAS ALIVE BEFORE ELBAPH STARTED WORSHIPPING HIM . AT THE END THE ONE PIECE WILL NOT ONLY BE A TRESSURE BUT A MESSEGE AND HISTORY OF PAST FROM JOYBOY TO LUFFY THAT THIS WORLD SHOULD BE BROUGHT BACK TO BECOME A ONE PIECE IN WHICH ALL ISLANDS WILL JOIN TO BECOME A BIG COUNTRY AND RACISM WILL END AND THAT WILL HAPEN AFTER RED LINE GETS DESTROYED BY LUFFY OR A ANCIENT WEAPON THIS WILL CAUSE SEA LEVEL TO GO DOWN AND SOME ISLANDS THAT WERE INSIDE WATER WILL AGAIN BE BROUGHT BACK.

I've been on this journey for a few years, with the most intense exhilaration and the lowest self-destructive spirals. When my person stopped talking to me, I tried everything, moving on, reinitiating, doing things that would catch their attention, acting as if I was over it. The intense discomfort comes from avoiding what you don't want to face.
I've recently had intense periods of feeling very connected to myself, and to them, even though I heard nothing from them in years. I was once again who they showed me to be. But the few times I did this, I also thought: this time, when I reach out to them, they're bound to respond! I still believed them to be separate from me, someone that I could win over - that's where I fell short. When they didn't respond, I became furious. Why did it not work? What more do I have to do? Why can't I just say "fuck it" and move on?
And now I get it. Connecting to your shared soul, feeling their energy, is all about awakening to your truth, and standing in yourself no matter what's going on. The attraction and love you feel for them is one part of it, but how did it change you? Did they awaken an intense understanding, or inspire you to be a better person, chase your dreams, heal yourself? Because that's what the core of this is. And most of all... getting to feel the unconditional love present in each and every structure that makes up our world.
My friend recently described it as rocks in the river. Rocks represent the ego barriers, 3D obstacles, things we believe are blocking the flow, but the water doesn't stop because of it - it keeps on flowing around it, no matter if you step in and let yourself feel it, or stubbornly, out of fear, stay on the dry land.
I can convince myself that I no longer feel love for them of to satisfy my ego or to appear less vulnerable - because it's shameful in our society to admit strong feelings, we should all be independent and successful to deserve love, but that's just not how the world works. Everything is connected. Separation is an illusion. And there's very little that comes as close to representing that illusion as one soul in two bodies. Being present in myself is to feel an all encompassing love - not just for my twin, but in general. Becoming disconnected is what causes pain and maintains the appearance of isolation and suffering.
"But... is that really all there's ever going to be? Don't I deserve a real relationship with someone I love?" We all want nothing else than for them to love us the same way we love them. But if actions of your twin trigger you, make you feel rejected or abandoned - look at that. That's a part of you that requires love and attention.
Healing, spiritual awakening and connecting to the source is within, not outside, not paywalled nor locked behind countless steps, you can get there anytime. But if it's them you're after and you don't want anyone else... maybe accept that they may have their own things to do, learn, experience. They may feel all sorts of ways for you and not be ready, or they may be so disconnected that they can't feel it at all. And you have to let them. If you think they're intending to hurt you specifically, that's your mind talking. (If you're involved with someone deliberately hurtful, that's not your twin soul.)
And most importantly - there's no amount of healing and enlightenment that can change any other person but you, and expecting them to be your "reward" is borderline incel-y and creepy. They're their own human being, not a thing to possess.
You love them because there's no easier way to exist. Even if they date/marry someone else, even if they don't visibly reciprocate, even if they are silent, don't validate you and are not the one remedy for every bit of pain and rejection you faced? For every "if" that made you scowl and say "well no, actually", that's what needs to fall away.
Let go of every expectation for a "reunion" and simply become aware that you're already united and let it unfold however it will. Let yourself be carried by the unifying flow that's all around you; your love for them, theirs for you, every other kind there is, everywhere, eternal. And that's union.

So, I've been a semi nomadic sketchbag for my entire adult life(39afab), and disabled since before i grew tits. campers , buses, backpacks, hitching from NY to ATL to The ville, haggling with chinatown bus drivers, the occasional hop out of rocky mount, trading tit pics for airline credit or gas, whoring for truck repairs, facilitating psychoactives, etc etc. last year i ended up in the hospital, numb from the waist down, not because of a car wreck, fight, or fall.... because i grew a cyst inside one of my vertebrae. two emergency surgeries in a week . I was told I'd never walk again, made peace with the fact id never have another genital orgasm, and started learning how to straight cath myself so i could be independent of the piss bag. To everyone else's surprise, i got competent with a wheelchair , and then a walker, and now i use a cane about half the time. no need to catheterize, and i can use my genitals again. Pretty awesome. but what sucks is.... i can't even carry water. a gallon is 8#. my lift limit is five pounds, and even that is agony to carry for more than about 2 miles. recently relocated on the word of former partner, and they have basically hung me out to dry - housing was promised but not actually available, and i don't have like 3k laying around to toss at a lease... and, Praise Eris, how frustrating. it's damn near summer, weather's good, there's hella urban camping available. but i can't even haul water. i use rolling luggage for my personal 'property. so instead of making camp and figuring out stuff from the comfort of my own independence, I'm begging friends and family to help me stay.. somewhere. I'm going to have to leave this city/region to have stability again, and doing so means i have to drop out of school. you dont know what you got till it's gone. your health and the accompanying ability to do what you need to is fucking invaluable. to all you vagabonds: take care of yourselves. hop a freightliner for me. hike that ravine that i can't. tell your sled dogs FASTER, for me. i hope one day i will be well enough to shrug off being tossed on. the street as the minor inconvenience it used to be, but until then... get it, y'all. don't let your spirit die. see you on the road.

Name: Luke Stratos
Age: 16
Appearance: Tall, broad shoulders, dark brown skin, black hair in a crew cut wave, hazel brown eyes, lean, muscular build, celtic shield knot on his right bicep, a wolf head tattoo on his left forearm, and the Japanese Kanji for wind on his right bicel. Small, faded scars litter most of his body.
Personality: Kind, friendly, helpful, stubborn at times, hardworking, loves his family dearly, dedicated to helping others, can get nervous around girls, tends to be charming without noticing it, gentlemanly, and is a fighter to the very end.
Likes: Martal arts, his mother, his sisters, cooking, heroes, R&B music, country music, singing, desserts, figuring out what he can create with his Quirk, his classmates (sans Bakugo at times), storms, windy days, mythology.
Dislikes: Bullies, his father, villains, anyone who mistreats women, people who fight for no reason, heroes who only care about fame, cameras, extremely cheesy foods, snakes, and waking up super early.
Quirk: Gale Forge- Luke's Quirk allows him to generate, manipulate, and intensify wind currents. This gives Luke the ability to not only manipulate the wind and air around him for simple purposes such as movements and basic attacks but also solidify the air into various constructs, essentially forging objects out of wind. These constructs can range from simple shields and battering rams to more complex shapes like blades, grappling hooks, and even animals. The constructs Luke creates take on a dark, midnight blue shade.
Quirk Drawbacks: Luke's Quirk relies heavily on the air quality around him. If the air is too humid or too wet than his constructs will become virtually unusable. And if Luke's airway or supply becomes shortened or cut off in any way then he won't be able to create anything at all. Overuse of his Quirk can also lead to intense asthma attacks or ruptured blood vessels.
Quirk Supermoves:
Cyclone Lancer: Luke summons numerous, dark blue spears around him that he uses to launch from a distance.
Sky Shot: Luke creates a blue wind bow and fires an arrow at his target. As long as he has eyes on his target, the arrow will follow.
Gale Step: Luke summons concentrated bursts of air from beneath his feet, increasing his speed and mobility.
Vortex Wrath: Luke creates a spinning funnel of wind around his arm and shapes it into a drill.
Breeze Blade: Luke summons a triangular-bladed broadsword that he uses at close range.
Falcon Tempest: Luke summons a cast of wind falcons he uses as either a means of attack or a way to temporarily blind an opponent.
Lupus Storm: Luke summons a pack of wolves that he can use to carry injured people away from the battlefield or attack numerous opponents.
Ryuusepuu (Dragon Whirlwind): Luke creates a swirling, Asian lung Dragon that circles around him before he sends it at his opponent. The Dragon traps the opponent in a massive vortex before biting down on them with full force.
Fujin-ken (Wind God Fist): Luke gathers spinning wind around his right fist that he sends out in a massive burst of wind that sometimes takes the form of an angry Oni head.
Howling Hurricane: Currently Luke's strongest move. He summons a massive amount of wind around him before launching himself into the air. Luke shifts into a flying kick position and condenses the wind around his outstretched leg. The wind transforms themselves into a wolf head which bites down on his target with the full force of hurricane force winds.
Hero Name: Zephyros, The Wind Knight
Hero Costume: Dark blue cargo pants with black tribal markings swirling around the outer edges of it. The pants are tucked into a set of black boots with silver armor protecting his knees and shins. A black and silver belt is around his waist full of different medical supplies, smoke bombs, flashbangs, and other small weapons that Luke uses in the field. He wears a long-sleeved black and blue shirt made of a special material that is bulletproof, tearproof, and fireproof along with protective armor on his forearms and shoulders. His torso is covered by a chest guard with the image of a knight's helm surrounded by streaks of wind on the front area. His chest guard also acts a wind breaker with lighter, cloth material hanging down past his hips along with a hood on the back of his neck. His look is finished off with a mask covering the lower half of his face and a simple mask over his eyes that enhaces his vision through numerous types of filters.
Background: Luke is the only male child of now divorced parents. His father, a real estate tycoon was so focus on his work that he neglected his wife which also led to his infidelity. Luke in turn has four older sisters with two of them being the daughters of women other than his mother. Luke's father was hardly in his life, only seeing the young man a few times a year, leaving him to be raised by his mother and older sisters.
Luke grew up seeing just how hard his family members worked to be able to provide for him and each other. Luke's mother gave him as much love as she could as well as showing him different skills that would help him in the future. As he grew, his sisters succeeded in their careers and became the top of their fields; a respected surgeon, a lawyer, a tech entrepreneur, and even a pop icon. While sometimes being placed in the shadows of his successful siblings, he never felt like he was inferior to them. They all loved him and he loved them, idolizing how much hard work they put in to making their dreams come true.
Luke first became interested in the hero world when he saw a local hero not only save a small time grocery store from getting robbed but also assisting him in getting his business back in working order. Luke realized that being a hero wasn't just about dealing with villains or flashy rescues but also giving the people hope when they felt like they didn't have any. Just like how his family members made him feel when he was at his lowest points.
Luke made it his goal to become a hero, to do some good for the people in this world that felt like nothing good ever happened to them.

An unknown number of orcas have sunk a sailing yacht after ramming it in Moroccan waters in the Strait of Gibraltar, Spain’s maritime rescue service said on Monday, a new attack in what has become a trend in the past four years.
The vessel Alboran Cognac, which measured 15 metres (49 feet) in length and carried two people, encountered the highly social apex predators, also known as killer whales, at 9 a.m. local time (0700 GMT) on Sunday, the service said.
The passengers reported feeling sudden blows to the hull and rudder before water started seeping into the ship. After alerting the rescue services, a nearby oil tanker took them onboard and transported them to Gibraltar.
The yacht was left adrift and eventually sank.
The incident is the latest example of recurring orca rammings around the Gibraltar Strait that separates Europe from Africa and off the Atlantic coast of Portugal and northwestern Spain.
Experts believe them to involve a subpopulation of about 15 individuals given the designation “Gladis.”
Full article on NBC news
https://www.nbcnews.com/science/science-news/orcas-sink-sailing-yacht-strait-gibraltar-rcna152093

Prologue

Hello and welcome to my post. I will subdivide this into two large parts. One will cover my thoughts, feelings, my hopes and dreams...While the other will tell you the specifics of how I pass the time, what topics interest me, what passions do I posses. I believe that at the end of this leap into my inner world, you dear reader, will have all the necessary information to judge whether we are compatible or not.

Part I
I am writing this in the hopes of finding something that I lack. Lately I have had this feeling, this tinge of melancholy within the dephts of my being, this yearning to find a kindred spirit, another Soul, much like mine, to form a bond with. Perhaps Loneliness is the right word for what is bothering me, but to use it seems to carry with it a connotation of ungratefulness. Ungratefulness for the people that I do have in my life, although none of them, of course, have the connection to me that I seek here.

I have found it increasingly necessary to seek in this Life a sort of purity of thought. What I mean is, I have began to undestand what ideas and concepts are ultimately compatible with my inner most Self, ergo what guidelines I have to follow to feel the most whole. Naturally I have likewise realised what I cannot add to my Self and what I will henceforth reject with all the power that I posses.

With this new context in mind, I now follow on the path of self improvement. I will now begin to mold my Self into my perfected idea of how the Self should be. This is certainly a significant undertaking, one that will not be easy to follow through on but one that I ultimately have to do. To me such context is essential. It is akin to a Guiding Star shining in the night. I will follow this Star for without it I am lost in the vast Darkness.

Looking back at my life, it was suboptimal, especially if one compares the way it molded me to how I will now mold myself. I suppose I must look on with a hint of regret at all that time which one might consider to be lost. Still... I try to stave off such decisively negative interpretations, after all, I have ultimately came to these conclusions. That means that somewhere along the line I had to have picked up on enough of such ideas for them to become so cemented in my consciousness. Well, either that or I was always like this, but in that case I can at least thank my life up to this point for not being able to supress such manifestations of my inner most Self.

To add to the topic of my life, I must admit that not all the battles have yet been won, not all the Demons vanquished, not every Mountain climbed. I want you to keep such things in mind when deciding whether or not to approach me. Many will shy away, I undestand that much, but the pursuit of true Companionship is just another such battle. Having said all that I do believe that being able to overcome hurdles together carries with it a certain appeal. That is to say, what's the fun in joining once the Game is already over?

I don't shy away from such challenges, perhaps to a fault. Certain troubles that I faced in the past carry with them a long shadow over my current health and well being. Still, I intend to change little in this regard other than the proficiency with which I will clash the current of my Will against the cliffs of Life.
Part II
In this part of my post I will tell you about my interests and hobbies, I will try to be thorough, commonality in this regard is rather important to build a relationship
History. I have had an interest in history for almost a decade now, it started back in school and developed from there. Well, now that I think about it one could argue that it started even earlier in my life as I liked watching the odd historic documentary or film aired on television but it wasn't regular back then, I never actively sought it out. I am mostly interested in European history in the period between the 18th-20th century but I sometimes branch out to other time periods and other parts of the world. I watch various channels related to history and read articles and sometimes books. I have recently got a few books on the German revolution of 1848/1849 and a historical magazine on the Thirty Years' War. Besides that I try to visit museums sometimes.
Literature. Especially old novels. I like to immerse myself in the Worlds of these books, I tend to read them while listening to thematically fitting music and take my time with them. One time you are following a troubled Youth in his quest for spiritual understanding of the world, another you see the aged and decrepit Doctor gambling his very Soul on the promises of abtaining satisfaction in earthy pleasures, then again your olfaction notices the most pleasant scent known to man even as the one eminating it has the appearance of a revolting Frog. These and many other stories open up to you once you decide to set foot into the literary World.
Languages. I know three, with one being a bit rusty. I am currently working intently on strengthening it. I believe that if I continue to apply myself in this regard then I should be able to finally conquer it. What language am I working on? Well, if you were to stack all the major works in it they would be as tall as a house... It is fun to go through different works in multiple languages, the same goes for film, games and such.
Games. I recently played Cyberpunk 2077. Well as recently as I played any major story centric game. Now that the dust has settled and the bugs mostly removed...It's not that bad. The main questline at least. Besides that I tried Fallout 76 (Very average, I'm dissapointed with what they made the "RPG" system) and I might give Deus Ex Manking Divided another spin (since it's somewhat similar to Cyberpunk when it comes to its aesthetics). Dark Souls is one of my favorite series, I still haven't beaten Elden Ring though. When it came out I wasn't in the right mindset to invest a hundred hours into it, with all those bosses and difficult locations. I think I'll only consider playing it if I am streaming it to someone. I am generally interested in either streaming games or having the person I am talking to stream them to me. To be specific I mean streaming to a single person while being on call. Besides that I'm a big fan of Paradox strategy games, especially Europa Universalis IV and Heats of Iron IV, I tend to only play single player since I find multiplayer with many people to be rather stressful but on the other hand I have nothing against a co-op game. I'm not the best player though, despite the ammount of hours I have in them. Another great game I would mention would be Dragon's Dogma. A very underrated RPG. I recently beat it again and it was an atmospheric and interesting experience. It is one of those games that feel like they have an endless ammount of depth and constant new secrets to discover.
Anime and Manga. In recent times my interest in them has waned but I still watch the occasional series here and there. Like Cyberpunk Edgerunners (Which I found to be rather mediocre) and the very good first season from the new arc of Bleach. Some of my favourite series include: Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood, Death Note, Fate;Zero, Psycho Pass, Code Geass and Attack on Titan. I wouldn't mind if you were to introduce me to some new series, maybe based on the ones I mentioned. My favourite Manga is Berserk which I still follow, althought I am still not certain on the direction that the new author is taking. I suppose it really is a matter of contention whether a somewhat (or considerably warped) vision is better than an unfinished work. One could argue that a few novels remain unfinished and possess a macabre appeal to them as such.
Music. Classical music has a very special place in my heart. A few of my favourite pieces would be: Clair de Lune, Nocturne Op. 9 No.2, Devil's Trill Sonata, Danse Macabre, Valse Sentimentale, Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Op. 92: II. Alegreto (by Beethoven) and Suite from Swan Lake, Op. 20a: I. Scene. Moderato. There are more but these ones always invoke something in me when I listen to them. Besides Classical I also enjoy listening to Synthwave, old Western pop and J-pop, both modern and from the 20th century.
Esotericism. I am interested in things spiritual, mystical, magical and esoteric. I have read religios texts, magical grimoires, introductions to various schools of thought. It is interesting to me.
Epilogue
Hopefully I was able to cast the spotlight upon my inner World in a clear and unequivocal manner. I feel the need to add to the aforementioned that I am rather introverted, which means that I tend to dislike large social gatherings. I managed to condition myself to be able to endure the presense of large groups of people but it isn't something that I would seek out in most cases. Besides that I am neurodivergent and suffer from certain issues with mental health. I have to take medication to keep myself under control. They work well enough but certain days are harder than others. I respect the struggle that others have with mental health but in the context of a relationship I have my limits, no one with BDP for instance. I am also not looking for anything casual. I understand than one cannot demand depth and meaning from a conversation with an absolute stranger, that is akin to trying to build a sand castle right before the waves strike but I ask at least that you enter with a mindset that this might become something of significance. I also do want to say that I am completely Monogamous. My preference? The sickly, pale, intellectual who watches rain droplets slide down the window in Autumn. Lastly, if I enjoy the company of a person I tend to not want to let them go.
Thank you for taking the time to read my post and have a good day. I ask that you send a DM instead of a chat and that you give your thoughts on my title in the opening of your message.
Goodbye...Or perhaps untill we meet again

Reddit Account: u/Thenn_Applicant
Discord Tag: Garin
Name and House: Dorian Merryweather
Age: 49
Cultural Group: Reachman
Appearance: [Dorian's chestnut brown hair has been greying for quite a while, however is short beard retains more color, including a few stray red hairs peppered throughout it. While his features have softened and gained some pudge as he aged past his prime, he remains in overall good shape. This is partly due to his great love of gardening and crop cultivation, which have left his hands and nails rather rough.](Dodin-Bouffant-The-Taste-of-Things-Vest.webp (500×650) (williamjacket.com))
Trait: Numerate
Skills: Avaricious (e), Architect, Administrator, Investor
Talents: Language (High Valyrian) Cooking, Gardening
Negative Trait: N/A
Starting Title: Lord of Longtable
Starting Location: Opening Event
Biography:
It has been said; men grow tired of sleep, love, singing and dancing, sooner than war. As such, it begs the question, what does a man have left when he finally tires of war? In pursuit of an answer, of any answer, one half of Dorian Merryweather’s life was spent. He was the second son of Lord Arthor Merryweather of Longtable. Like many others born in a place of natural abundance, he longed for more, for something greater than a mere provincial estate. The tourneys of Highgarden, the hunts of Horn Hill and the books of Oldtown all called to him, and so he could never ride past his father’s mild and verdant fields fast enough. Dorian counted himself lucky not to be the heir, for that meant he could pick where his future lay, unchained from the uninspiring home of his childhood. Instead it was his older brother, Bennard, who envied his free-flying lifestyle, contriving any excuse to join him on his escapades and agurk lessons and ceremonies he ought to have attended.
Lord Arthor was fairly permissive of this deriliction of duties, as the friendships forced on such journeys were worth more than lessons that could be repeated later, or tasks that could be handed off to lowborn stewards. The boys attended tourneys, balls, hunts and feasts, living the life the bards extolled as the height of reachman’s chivalry. The one time they did not shirk their duties was when their father had the honor of hosting King Mern and his court for a tourney on the Warrior’s day. The Merryweather sons would present the king and his family with silver bowls of dilligrout, a most exquisite stew of capons, white wine and almond milk. They had the joy of tasting it once the Gardeners had their fill, a taste they would never forget. On the tournament field three days later, Mern knighted them both, though Dorian was only sixteen at the time, green as a knight could ever be.
Five years later, as news of Aegon Targaryen and his early conquests spread, the lords of the Reach were summoned to Goldengrove, where they found a veritable forest of Westermen’s banners being planted beside their own. The fall of the Storm Kings had led to a whirlwind of diplomacy between the houses of Gardener and Lannister. The plan was presented to the lords with the two kings sitting beside one another on the dais as though they were brothers. They held up Aegon’s letter of demands, scornfully reading it aloud and then proceeded to tear it up to a roaring acclamation from the hall. Standing there before the hall, Mern could hardly be called the Warrior incarnate. There stood a man well past his prime, old enough to be a grandfather and with no great victories to his name, in battle or on the tourney field. All the same, this man, whom they called their king, always seemed to know exactly what to say to win someone over. If he’d declared war on hell itself that evening, the Merryweather brothers would probably still have marched off with him when the next morning dawned. Bennard and Dorian shouted as loud as anyone, death to the foreign upstart. That evening were betrothed to westerwomen they’d never met before, made plans for a real battle, which they had never fought in before, and drank, ate and sang as though the night would last forever. House Merryweather was not able to secure a command, yet King Mern remembered his stay at Longtable fondly. He gave Bennard and Dorian a place in the vanguard, and even adorned Bennard with a brooch of the order of the green hand the morning before the army Goldengrove, a momentous honor which Bennard would cherish for the remainder of his days. He did not have many left, as it turned out. The Field of Fire began like a dream, as the two brothers rode off at the break of dawn, two out of five thousand sets of gleaming armor atop proud warhorses. By the end of the day it had become a nightmare. Caught up in the maelstrom of battle, Dorian did not see the moment when their loss was assured, but the Gods know he could hear it, the creeping, hungry flames that descended on the reachmen like an army of its own. As hundreds were broiled inside their steel plate and thousands more choked on the inferno’s horrible vanguard of black smoke, Bennard and Dorian broke and fled. They were not far behind the retreating Loren Lannister in their escape, but half a minute made all the difference. The lines of fire fanned out, hunting more living things to devour, and engulfed the two brothers. Dorian could feel how the flames spread from his surcoat to his undershirt, all the way down to the hairs on his chest, beginning to sear his skin. In a desperate act he threw himself in the Blackwater, and would have perished if not for the shoddy work of his squire that morning, which left him able to tear off his plate before he could sink. With bloodied, burn-marked fingers, he clung to the roots of a tree by the riverside, water up to his chest. He was retrieved after some time, how long he could not say. For the next two moons his mind was adrift, distracted from his pains by milk of the poppy. The next two were far worse, as he grew more lucid and realized the extent of the damage. A burn-mark stretched from his right thigh, all the way up his chest and left bicep to the apple of his neck. Many times over, flakes of dead or dying skin had to be peeled off by the maester as the scabs kept bursting with blood and clear liquid. By the end of that year he was able to walk again, though the burn mark would leave a feverish red mark across the front of his body, his new skin settling into twisted lines.
Bennard was far worse for wear, alive yet burned all the way to his face and crippled from a fall off his horse. His nose and ear-lobes had to be cut off, too burned to save, and even his eyelids were permanently scarred, unable to sprout new lashes. The more lucid Bennard became, the deeper his sorrow. Eventually he began refusing food. The new lord of Longtable would not eat anything his cooks set in front of him. In spite of his ever present pains, Dorian began going to the kitchens, reprimanding the cooks for their failings. He knew his brother well and knew his palette, and began ordering them to make his brother’s favorites. When he felt they were making mistakes, he interrupted their work himself. He was a stranger to the kitchen, yet would criticize how things were cut too roughly, spiced too little or too much. He was a terror to the cooks, yet they could not refuse him.
His attempts to intervene were however hampered by a newfound aversion to heat. The sound of the hearth, of boiling and searing, the general sense of warmth around him made him nauseous and caused his movements to seize up. Still, he went to his brother’s bedside every day, and afterwards he forced himself back to the kitchens. His sister, Lydia, tried to stop him at first, but soon found her protes fell on deaf ears, and so joined him, if only to leash him in when he went too far. Finally, there was only one dish they hadn’t tried; the dilligrout they’d once served to the late King Mern. Every time it was made, it came out wrong. It soon turned out the cook who had served them that evening six years ago had since retired, and his exact method had never been recorded or taught to anyone else. Dorian would first invite the man to Longtable, then summon him with armed knights when invitations were refused.
Theomar, the man who appeared before him, was a sorry sight, looking frightened and confused as he was taken to his old workplace. It was explained by his sons that he’d been growing senile even six years ago, often snapping at the kitchen maids under him when his memory failed him. Since then he’d gotten worse, seldom eating, let alone cooking. Something in the old man’s eyes did seem to brighten for a moment when the sounds and smells of his old kitchen surrounded him, and Dorian ordered him to make dilligrout. Before long that faint spark had been drowned out by tears. He would start boiling capon or crushing almonds, only to leave the job half-done whenever he had to fetch something new. Serving maids were put at his disposal to bring him ingredients, yet an ingredient ordered would be met with a reprimand as he seemed to forget which dish he was making every few minutes. Finally Dorian snapped at the man, grabbing him by his collar and shouting accusations of treason against House Merryweather. By the time Lydia could restrain him and try to apologize, the man was a wreck on the floor. After watching it for a while, waiting for the man to get up and continue his work, even Dorian was overcome by pity and shame for what he’d done. The old cook was praying to the gods, begging forgiveness for his failings. Dorian began to realize he’d broken a great man down and would himself beg forgiveness. He offered the man his old cook’s quarters back for the rest of his life, and promised his sons that his maester would tend to the man in his old age, that he would be fed from Longtable’s stores.
At this point, he resolved to make the dilligrout himself. Through it all, Bennard was barely clinging to life, or rather being tethered to it by the will of others. He could only be fed when drugged down by the milk of the poppy, and the more often it was used, the less effective it became. Every day Dorian braved the kitchens, yet he could not recreate the flavor of that wonderful night. It was by the grace of the gods, perhaps with Theomar as their vessel, that Dorian would even come close. The old man could no longer cook, but over time he began to wander into the kitchens and sit down on a chair. At first Dorian thought the man only sought the warmth of the hearth for his weary bones, yet he discovered it to be more than that. Theomar’s eyes were like clouded glass, yet they brightened every now and then, hearing almonds being ground, smelling capons searing in fat, as though it was stirring the kitchenmaster of yore back to life. Eventually Dorian began to walk up to the old cook with his ingredients, bidding him to smell or taste small portions. Sometimes he got simple instructions out of it, ‘too coarse’, ‘too sour’, ‘underdone’. Som times a mere nod or frown was all Theomar managed. Over the course of a couple of days, Dorian put together one final attempt to get the dish made rightWhen he arrived in Bennard’s chamber, he was met with a look which brought forth discomfort that no flame could produce in Dorian. Plainly, raspingly, his brother asked him why he wouldn’t let him die. It was easy, Bennard reasoned. All Dorian needed to do was wait and become lord. The words almost made Dorian throw the dilligrout on the floor. Almost. He placed two bowls on Bennard’s table, the dilligrout and one brimming with milk of the poppy. Dorian told his brother to make his choice. If he sought death, Dorian would let him, but he would not hear that it was an easy thing, watching his brother die. That evening, the milk of the poppy was carried away by the maester, the empty bowl of stew taken to be washed in the kitchens. From then on, Bennard ate what his brother brought him without complaint. He lasted just into the new year, dying on its tenth day. In the predawn gloom of the twelfth, Theomar died in his sleep
Dorian took up his lordly task joylessly. His old wanderlust returned, spurred by the horrible memories that now stained Longtable and the reach itself in his mind. The final straw came when their new Tyrell overlords, insisted on him marrying a lady from a dornish house. His previous betrothal had fallen through, as the parents of his western bride had not wished to draw the ire of the Targaryens by maintaining an old alliance meant to oppose them. Instead of obliging, he boarded a ship from Oldtown going east. It stopped only briefly in Planky Town before going to Tyrosh. Noting him to be a nobleman, a few of the city’s wealthy men would host him for a while, though they quickly lost interest when his lack of knowledge of trade became apparent. After that, he spent time in the markets and squares where the common people lived. His old curiosity was piqued, and he decided to embark on a quest of learning, fashioning himself another Lomas Longstrider. He moved on to Myr, and the experience was much the same in broad strokes, a few rich men showed interest and quickly lost it. As he’d visited the dye markets he went to see the city’s famous artisans at work. One thing was notably different, he met a Tyroshi woman with green-dyed hair, going by the name Maryah. She was a trader, and the two had taken the same ship to Myr. She had been to Myr before and showed him many of its secrets. They spent an entire day in one of the vast delicacy markets so she could show him the many tastes of the city. Having no plans in advance, he asked where she was headed next.
Without a second thought he would join her on a journey to Lys. He soon understood it to be a test. It was not long before she teased him, speculating he’d only joined her for a chance to see the famous pleasure houses. Evening after evening they stayed in the city and Maryah would tease and test him over the matter. Finally he told her he’d renounce his betrothal for her, that there was no one else in his eye. She laughed, replying he would not have to. The next morning, Dorian awoke to find that she was already up, the green washed from her black curls. Maryah had in fact been Joanna Dayne, his dornish bride to be, having traveled the same route as him ever since his ship stopped at Planky Town to refill its food and water. She was already quite familiar with the three closest free cities, having served as a dornish envoy on behalf of its spice traders. As they planned their return to Westeros, Joanna asked him what else in the world he wanted to see. Within a few moons of being wed, they left Westeros, not to return for three years.The journey was what his mind needed, away from the Reach, its knights and tapestries, hunts and tourneys. Ultimately, the lords and knights of his homeland, for all their songs and poetry, lived every day in preparation for war, frivolous though the preparations were. Joanna showed him a different world, the remnants of Old Valyria. War was to be sure inescapable. Wherever they went, there were soldiers, tapestries, contests of arms, and yet the cities housed something else as well, a boundless potential for creation, commerce and growth.
Thanks to Joanna Dayne’s knowledge their stays became far better planned, and they could enjoy the hospitality of wealthy locals far longer. She knew how to talk about the spice trade and similar matters, and Dorian began to pick up on it. On their second stay in Myr, he procured a great deal of fine parchment and began taking notes, everything from negotiation tactics and the prices of cloves or red peppers to court customs, as well as more eclectic pieces of knowledge, details of running an eastern estate, descriptions of technological marvels he had never seen in Westeros, and ingredients in the local food. By the time they neared Qarth he had quite the list of recipes, among other things. There he was even able to learn a few all the way from Yi Ti, as some local cooks catered to merchants from the Golden Empire. On their journey home they’d end up taking the opportunity to see the newly made port of King’s Landing. By that time, a third member had joined their journey, their infant daughter Florys. Having left Longtable in the care of his sister and steward for three years, Dorian finally accepted the responsibility of running his ancestral home.
Longtable was considered to rule over some of the best lands in the Reach, ideally situated along the river with abundant soil which could provide two grain harvests in a year. Having seen the estates which supplied the great cities of the east, Dorian was all too aware of its comparative shortcomings. He found that the abundance of the land had a counterproductive effect, breeding complacency and carelessness. From his grandiose tour of the east, he went on a painstaking tour of his own lands, trying to get an overview of everything he ruled over. He paid the citadel a fee to send him half a dozen maesters in training for a season. These young men, literate and numerate, would serve his own maester in conducting a survey of the land, giving Dorian account of all resources at his disposal as lord. The results were quite varied.
Some peasants were found to have remarkable agricultural insights which they had no way of writing down, entirely reliant on passing the knowledge to their children. Knowing the risks of such a method of transferring knowledge, Dorian ordered such insights recorded. In other places there were farmers and communities who were unwittingly exhausting their soil. Instances of lack of fallow land, excessive grazing by cows and lack of crop rotation were also made note of, followed by edicts against such heedless practices. Septons, sheriffs and tax collectors were given written copies and were obliged to read them to the peasantry wherever it was deemed necessary. It also became part of the obligations of farmers to plant a set amount of clover in their fields and pastures, a practice some had taken up on their own but which had already become a standardized law among the estates belonging to Myr and Volantis. Irrigation was expanded and land inheritance was reformed to prevent the splitting of fields past a certain threshold.
Lord Dorian was not always successful. Some eastern ideas had been useful innovations which improved conditions across the board. In time he learned that the peculiarities of the westerosi system were sometimes necessary for the sake of stability, not merely the misshapen fruits of ignorance. His attempt to enclose part of the common lands proved abortive, as it nearly caused a peasant rebellion. A procession of aggrieved smallfolk headed for Longtable had to be dispersed by knights, armed with wooden clubs to prevent needless bloodshed.Two men were hanged and five sent to the wall, but the reform was thereafter abandoned, leading the populace to calm down. Dorian was not much of a military leader and had not wielded weapons since the Field of Fire. He became aware of his need to bolster his forces, a notion reinforced by the establishment of the Black Roses not long after his return, and again with the Kingswood Catastrophe
In the meantime, he and Joanna raised a family together. Three more daughters would be born healthy, with a couple of miscarriages and a stillbirth in between, also a daughter. Their travels did not entirely come to an end. In 13 AC they would tour the northern free cities of Norvos, Qohor, Pentos, Braavos and Lorath, which they had missed on their original journey. The lion’s share of 17 AC was spent on a journey to the Summer Islands. At other times they would make shorter journeys around the Seven Kingdoms, where they felt more secure in bringing their older children along. Whether it was visiting Joanna’s family in Dorne, tourneys and feasts in the Reach and West or even one trip to see the wall, a nameday wish by Florys, they were often on the move. Like most of their peers, they frequented Oldtown and Highgarden
The growing rift between the two queens and their children was a situation Dorian would watch with dread in his heart, remembering keenly how a generation of young men had been brought to the field of fire. To his mind, the Targaryen rule ought not go to waste. Like Valyria of old, it had begun with fire and blood, yet similarly peace and prosperity had followed in its wake. If only the dragons could stand united, perhaps another long peace like the one the Freehold once enjoyed could again be established. If not, another century of blood was upon them. Under Dorian, Longtable became a place where he sought to bring together people from across the kingdoms and forge unity over the dinner table, an attitude which somewhat vexed and confounded his more militaristic daughter and heiress, Lady Florys. Even amid her questioning of the viability of his peaceful ways when surrounded by those who would make war, a terrible sight would steel his resolve, watching the Mander burning green, every bit as terrible as the flames from twenty one years prior. That night he made a simple vow, never again.
The League of the Cornucopia, he would name his little group, a gallery of lords and ladies whose acquaintances he’d made over the years. With these fellow gourmets he would share the culinary knowledge he’d gleaned from his journeys in the east and west. Most unusual for a lord of his rank, Dorian came to spend a great deal of time in his kitchens, testing out recipes himself. On occasion, the dishes he served to his guests for these small, intimate gatherings would be the work of his own hands. The membership did vary from time to time, both based on who could make it and who he sought to bring together. Rather than a fully closed circle, the League is more like a form of feasting, only it’s done for a much smaller crowd, without the public spectacle. Such occasions allowed for more refined foods which did not need to be served to hundreds and kept constantly warm over the course of hours like some common tavern stew. It also opened up an arena of more intimate diplomacy and negotiation for those who sought it, hosted on neutral ground by a lordly mediator, free from prying eyes.
Timeline:
25BC: Dorian is born, second in line to Longtable
24BC: His sister Lydia is born
9BC: House Merryweather hosts House Gardener for a tourney and feast. Dorian and his older brother Bennard serve the dish of honor to King Mern Gardener and his family. During the subsequent tourney, Mern knights both boys, despite their inexperience and lack of victory in the tourney
9BC-2BC: Dorian spends much time travelling the reach, attending events
1BC: Dorian and Bennard fight in the vanguard at the Field of Fire. Both are burned, Bennard far more severely than Dorian. Lord Merryweather is killed. Traumatized by the battle and his new maimed body, Bennard starts refusing food. Dorian desperately tries to re-create the dish they served King Mern eight years ago. The cook who made it has since gone senile, but eventually manages to help Dorian re-create it. He is given a place at court as apology for his mistreatment at Dorian's hands before this occurred.
1AC: Lord Bennard dies at the beginning of the year, leaving Dorian as lord of Longtable. His sister Lydia fulfills her betrothal to House Tarly, becoming lady of Horn Hill. At the prospect of marrying a Dornishwoman on the King's orders, Dorian decides to leave Westeros to put off his marriage. In Myr, he meets a woman calling herself Maryah, claiming to be a Tyroshi merchant. They fall in love and travel to Lys together. There Dorian promises to set aside his betrothal for her, whereupon she reveals herself as Joanna Dayne, his dornish betrothed.
1AC-4AC: Dorian and Joanna wed at Longtable, then depart on a new journey of the east. They reach as far as Qarth before turning back home. In 3AC, on the way back, their first child, Florys, is born while the couple are in Volantis, on the way home. They return via the newly built port of King's Landing.
4AC-8AC: Using knowledge from the east, Lord Dorian embarks on a project of rationalizing the agriculture of Longtable
5AC: Dorian and Joanna have their second child, a girl named Ellyn
8AC: Their third daughter, Desmera, is born
13AC: Dorian and Joanna spend a year travelling the northern free cities
14AC: Their fourth and final daughter, Gwin, is born
17AC: Dorian and Joanna undertake a journey to the Summer Islands with their children
23AC: The aftermath of the battle of Stonebridge brings back memories of the Field of Fire, as the Merryweathers watch burning slag run down the Mander
25AC: The Merryweathers travel to the celebration of the maturity of Aegon's sons
Family Tree:
Arthor Merryweather (father, d.1BC)
Cerelle Merryweather (pending family connection) (mother, d.20AC)
Bennard Merryweather (brother, d.1AC)
Lydia Merryweather (sister, b.24BC)
Glendon Merryweather (uncle, d.1BC)
Myrcella Pommingham (aunt, d.22AC)
Leo Merryweather (cousin, b.13AC)
Joanna Dayne (wife, b.26AC)
Florys Merryweather (daughter, b.3AC)
Ellyn Merryweather (daughter, b.5AC)
Desmera Merryweather (daughter, b.8AC)
Gwin Merryweather (daughter, b.13AC)
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Auxiliary Character:
Name and House: Florys Merryweather
Age: 23
Cultural Group: Reachman
Appearance: [A short, muscular woman with wavy black hair, normally worn in a bun. She has high cheekbones and a proud demeanor. Her rigid strength stands in contrast to the more relaxed nature of the Merryweather court, one she finds overly lax and casual](0_0.png (896×1344) (discordapp.com))
Trait: Hale
Skills: Swords (e), Essosi Blademaster
Talents: Dancing, Fishing, Cooking
Negative Traits: N/A
Starting Title: Heir to Longtable
Starting Location: Opening Event
Timeline:
3AC: Florys is born in Volantis, while her parents are on their way home from Essos
10AC: Florys starts training under Saathos Trevelyan, her father's Master at Arms
13 AC: She joins her parents on a tour of Pentos, Braavos, Norvos and Qohor
17AC: She travels with her parents to the Summer Islands
19AC-23AC: As she comes of age, Florys becomes more critical of her father's desire for peace, viewing it as increasingly far-fetched amid the increasingly controversial regency and the impending succession dispute. She resolves to make the kinds of connections her father seems unwilling to, in case of war
25AC: She accompanies her family to the celebrations
NPCS:
Ser Leo Merryweather (Age: 37, Archetype: Magnate) Lord Merryweather's first cousin, he has become an indispensable agent in the daily running of Longtable. Despite his foppish demeanor and aparent laziness, he is highly capable and loyal in his task of increasing his family's fortune. He remains happily unwed
Saathos Tevelyan: (Age:48, Archetype: Master at Arms) The son of a Lysene father and a Myrish mother, Saathos initially sought a career in amongst Myr's military officers, however his family's relatively low status proved an impediment to further promotion, later compounded by a dispute with a superior. He met Lord Merryweather in 3AC and eventually travelled West to offer his services five years later, finding his career progress stonewalled in his home city. Well into middle age, he still looks firm and imposing as profesisonal a soldier ought to

Hi all,
I'm starting my fitness journey again after falling off the band wagon. I'm not good at setting up a program (too much, too little, too long etc) so I'm looking for a program or online coach that can help me get back on track. I'm a 38 year old female, and I've noticed that when I lift heavy my joints start to feel it, I get stiff and achy. I would like to get back in shape - build some strength, have good conditioning and be mobile and move fluidly without aches and pains and stiffness. Basically all round fitness that allows me to play a pick up game of basketball or go on a hike, carry heavy stuff, go for a swim, play with the kids etc and not just focus on hypertrophy or bodybuilding.
I've been on Trainheroic and Playbook and saw a couple of interesting coaches. Luka Hocevar, Jason Brown, Marcus Filly and JTM Fit have caught my eye. So I was wondering does anyone have any experience with these coaches or their programs? Who would you recommend? Are there any kick ass strong female trainers (that don't only focus on toned booty...)?
Thanks for your help! I'm excited to get back on track.

Hi all,
I'm starting my fitness journey again after falling off the band wagon. I'm not good at setting up a program (too much, too little, too long etc) so I'm looking for a program or online coach that can help me get back on track. I'm a 38 year old female, and I've noticed that when I lift heavy my joints start to feel it, I get stiff and achy. I would like to get back in shape - build some strength, have good conditioning and be mobile and move fluidly without aches and pains and stiffness. Basically all round fitness that allows me to play a pick up game of basketball or go on a hike, carry heavy stuff, go for a swim, play with the kids etc and not just focus on hypertrophy or bodybuilding.
I've been on Trainheroic and Playbook and saw a couple of interesting coaches. Luka Hocevar, Jason Brown, Marcus Filly and JTM Fit have caught my eye. So I was wondering does anyone have any experience with these coaches or their programs? Who would you recommend? Are there any kick ass strong female trainers (that don't only focus on toned booty...)?
Thanks for your help! I'm excited to get back on track.

Imagine harnessing the vast knowledge of Language Models (LLMs) to supercharge your recommender systems. The LEARN framework does just that, by synergizing LLM's open-world knowledge with collaborative signals.
The secret lies in its twin-tower architecture. The Content-Embedding Generation (CEG) module uses a frozen pre-trained LLM to extract rich semantic embeddings from textual item descriptions.
Then, the Preference Comprehension (PCH) module projects these embeddings into the collaborative space using causal attention and contrastive learning, guided by recommendation-specific objectives.
Experiments on a large-scale industrial dataset showcase LEARN's effectiveness. Online A/B tests reveal significant lifts in revenue and CVR, particularly for cold-start and long-tail users/items.
The key innovations of LEARN are:

1. Leveraging LLMs for content understanding while avoiding catastrophic forgetting 🧠
2. Bridging the gap between open-world and collaborative domains for real-world applicability 🌉

By combining the power of LLMs with collaborative filtering, LEARN opens up new possibilities for recommender systems. It's a game-changer for businesses looking to enhance their personalization strategies.
Read the full paper here
via Amey Dharwadker on LinkedIn

Hello Guys,
I have gathered a list of top adjustable dumbbells according to what Redditors like the most. I've made this this after reading a lot of discussions on different subreddits and According to my insights these are the most liked Dumbbells by redditors:
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Best Adjustable Dumbbells 2024

• Bowflex SelectTech 552 Adjustable Dumbbells
• Core Fitness Adjustable Dumbbell Set
• PowerBlock Elite Dumbbells
• FLYBIRD Adjustable Dumbbells

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Bowflex SelectTech 552 Adjustable Dumbbells:
When your goal is to find the versatile set of weights to cater to the variety of workouts and different strength levels, Bowflex SelectTech 552i is a perfect option for all. Weights have an option for configuration which is between 5 lbs to 52.5 lbs in 5 lb increments. It enables to look at precise adjustments that defines progressiveness of the weight, ideal for overload training regime. Any fine gym equipment is a must-have in today's world where people show unrelenting thirst for a magnificent body- shape. Complicated machines with weight adjustments and safety features are what users see. Even though the handles of the dumbbells seem a bit slippery when hold them with sweaty hands, the ergonomic design provides extremely comfortable handling. Also for some people the short handle can be an issue when holding it with two hands.
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Core Fitness Adjustable Dumbbell Set:
As far as the grip on Core Home Fitness Adjustable Dumbbells is concerned, we were astonished at how it managed to beat the odds and give us sensational control even if our hands started to sweat half way through working out. Being equipped with a weight range of 5-50 lbs provides a wide range of exercises you can begin with and it also allows you to gradually increase your strength. The fact that the you can quickly adjust the weight means that you will not be bloated during your workouts and stay on the flow. In effect, the (Flybird Weights) gives you an idea of how they work. All you have to do is to cradle the dumbbell and twist the dial to change settings. Unlike the others, the pistol grips on this Core Home Fitness Adjustable Dumbbells is pretty much the same. However, if you are looking a comfortable and durable dumbbell to use in your intense workoutsthis Core Home Fitness Adjustable Dumbbells could work for you.
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PowerBlock Elite Dumbbells:
The dumbbells, although rather unlike their supposed “twin brothers,” have the admirable feature of a 16-in-1 variety set. Their square shape not only aids in their storage but also permits them to be stacked both in the corner of your apartment or garage. Because of this, they have been commonly used to conserve space in home gyms with larger pieces of equipment such as treadmills and elliptical machines.
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FLYBIRD Adjustable Dumbbells:
Flybird Adjustable Dumbbells Take up little space and offer an integrally featured apparatus for the home gyms. These weights have square-plate design, which serves as a basis for 16 weights in one set, ranging from 5 to 50 lbs, in 2.5 lbs increments. Those forged shell remain strong for period of time and expandable kits can add up extra load to be carried. There may be slight differences in such reported weights, which could cause flooring damage, so it's recommended to be aware of such issues when using the chair.
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You make pretty regrettable mistakes when you're desperate. Unfortunately, desperation would go on to cost me much more than I ever thought possible.
When I was 19 years old my financial situation wasn't great. In what was left of a crumbling home would be my recovering addict twin sister, and myself. The unfortunate state of our home was all from the even more unfortunate passing of our parents just five years prior. The two hadn't died tragically by any means, thankfully. No.. our parents died of old age, a consequence of having us kids later in life, while not being able to take on the financial burden that would be.. us.
My sister was making the early steps into the college lifestyle, doing her best to stay afloat with my support in funding. Money was tight for the two of us, but as she became more well off on her own, the more content she was with severing the last remaining tie to her childhood.. me.
I didn't hate Xel for her decision, if anything I understood her distancing from this life.. even if it saddened me. So then it was just me! Left to a house with a hole in the ceiling. Believe it or not, life wasn't all to bad even with how considerably down in the dumps it otherwise seemed to be.
However, content as I might have been, it's human nature to want more than you have. Can't say I was to greedy to look for some comfortability in my own home..
And so there it was! The glistening letters of ink outlining my salvation. An advertisement I'd found plastered onto the wall of the small booth I sat at while I waited for the bus to carry me off to work. "$5,000 to those compatible for a recent scientific breakthrough." Under any 'normal' circumstances I would consider this a scam. Hell, I was skeptical as I scanned the letters. Had I been told of this opportunity through spam call or text I would've glossed right over it just as anyone else would have.. but I was desperate.
I think it was the fact that someone, some real person had to have put this paper up on this wall gave me some glimmer of hope for a quick cash grab. Listed bellow the promise of money was details for a number to call regarding interest in the proposition.
I took the bait.. I saw the line, and like some idiot I clamped my teeth down just for that hook to sweep me away.
The corporation I'd come to know as, "The Arsaction," would see me just a week later. There was a brief consultation. They took my weight, age, all things I would've expected. It wasn't until they pulled records regarding my familial situation that I began to find this whole ordeal.. suspicious.
To 'begin' to find things suspicious only at this point is foolish, something I full understand, but I feel the need to reinforce the fact that I, Lex McKarthy, was desperate.
Everything by this point seemed pretty legit. The blood tests, the doctors office, the tests were.. reasonable. What was I to suspect? Everything was so vague, and truth be told I honestly didn't even expect anything to come of this visit. All the doctors, all the consultants seemed so disinterested in my features.. but when they realized I had no one, everything seemed to change.
Suddenly ears perked, suddenly doors closed, suddenly I was.. exactly what they were looking for. Every feature of myself was so painfully average. I was anyman, I was.. nothing. Despite their best efforts to be discreate, I knew it was only the fact that nobody would come looking for me that peaked their interests.
My stomach dropped when I was faced with a pen in my hand, trembling over that NDA. Every fiber of me cursed myself for never considering putting just a minute of research into 'The Arsaction,' however a video briefing would ease my nerves. Nobody knew who The Arsaction was. There was no public record of their existence, and that NDA would make sure that they continued to never exist.
I was stupid, I was irrational, I was in over my head! But I was desperate.. and I had nothing else.
"I have nothing else.. I have nothing else!"
It was a mantra I chanted as I was injected with that substance. The substance that turned my blood orange, made my skin freakishly thin.
And then I went home.
That was it. I was given my sum of money, and I was sent home. They told me I was, "good to go," and no number of questions would get a one of them to speak. I was only met with who I'd assume to be security guiding me out of the building.
Not a word more of what I'd just been injected with, only given instructions to not dwell on mirrors for too long. That was it, just some ominous instructions. So I left, as befuddled as I arrived. Relief washed over me as I made my way home. The anxiety I'd received from such an ominous buildup was all waved by the fact that I was somehow just.. good to go?
Relief quickly turned to panic as the inherent nature of it all being too good to be true set in. I expected to die, I expected some visit from government agents, I expected anything and everything, but as months turned to years.. Nothing ever came of it. No mirror ever caused me any harm, which was its own anxiety I'd have to overcome simply because of the absurd nature or such a request.
I hoped it was.. some prank. Everything was well... for a time. Until my sister called.
I just.. watched the phone ring. My sister, someone who I hadn't spoken to in upwards of 8 years was suddenly ringing me up. When I finally had answered, her question left me speechless.
"Hey Lex. would you happen to remember Mom's recipe for that egg toast? I think I left the cookbook at your place."
I felt my ears ring. The question was so.. casual. She entirely skipped the part where we discussed how she's been, how I'm doing. She spoke to me like we'd hung out only days ago.
At the time I'd thought I was just being dramatic, but looking back on it I can only justify my own hesitation to respond.
"W-..what?"
I stammered like a fool, but I was firm in my disbelief.
"Yeah, it should be in the book on the counter?"
I looked over my shoulder to my kitchen counter, past the toaster I never bought, and over to the book she spoke of. My jaw hung heavy, the whole interaction feeling like a dream.
With one hand I held the phone, and with the other I began to skim the pages of the book letting my eyes linger on mom's cinnamon roll recipe for a bit longer than intended.
"Lex.. are you ok?"
My sister inquired on the other end. I suddenly felt sick.. falling the the ground and laying on my back. This wasn't happening. It never did.
"Lex? Are you alright!?"
My sister repeated back more urgently, followed by her assurance that she would be over soon to check on him. But.. no company ever arrived. After hours the line just dropped, and I fell asleep there on that cold, wooden floor, paralyzed with a feeling I couldn't wrap my head around.
This never happened.
I never left.
I woke up in my bed in a cold sweat. I checked the time, greeted with a humble 4:37 in the morning. What troubled me was the fact that the date had been set back 7 years.
Of course it wasn't all so clear to me. After 7 long years I'd honestly forgotten about this day. This was the day that I'd set out for my graciously provided $5,000
7 years of my fucking life.. I would chalk it all up to that.. STUFF that they injected me with.. what was it? Phantom Drive? I could call it all some terrible drug trip, some construct defined by some insane psychedelic, but if that were the case, how was I here now? BEFORE I'd ever taken the drug?
This is a dream. I convinced myself I hadn't miraculously gone back in time, that 7 years of my life weren't a lie, but if that were the case, why was my blood still that damn orangy hue?
I'm losing sleep over this itch in my brain. It's like some taste of blood in my mouth has soured out the idea that letting my eyelids squeeze shut could further obscure my definite understanding of when I stood.
A day I remember so vividly at the ripe age of 14 years old, now 12 years ago, I awoke to the sweet smell of cinnamon rolls filling the air. All was right with the world, all as I climbed from the messy sheets in my dark room. It was abundantly clear that the bulb of the light beside my bed had burnt out over the course of the night, and the closed blinds didn't aid my vision as I stumbled around my room in search of my door.
An oddity presented itself in the fashion of aimless wondering. Where was the nob? One I'd become so accustomed to.. not needing to open? I'd never closed my door. Not the previous night, not ever. Not to the behest of my mother who'd always taken annoyance to closed doors, some trait of my grandmother's to which my mom had unfortunately inherited.
Breakfast took the form of two strips of bacon, scrambled eggs, and slightly burnt French-Toast. My previous assumption of cinnamon rolls unfortunately missed the mark, however I wouldn't object to this. I wish I could convince myself that I was wrong. Something so mundane, something so insignificant to the events in this story, however the first notable instance of a curse that I couldn't pinpoint
My mother had already seen herself off to work by this point, and so I was faced with the responsibilities of seeing myself out to the bus. Some routine I'd become far too used to; The minutes passed, leaving me with nothing to do but wait by the door for a buss that would never arrive.
If the door being shut and the cinnamon rolls being a different meal entirely had left me with a minor confusion, then suddenly being seated in the passenger seat of my mother's car listening to the nonchalant complaints from my twin sister about the nuances freshmen year math shot me into a disarray I couldn't possibly quantify.
I think one of the scariest things for me is the fact that I thought nothing of it. I hadn't freaked out. No scene was made to express what should have been one of the more disturbing instances of my childhood.
I could chalk up the mistaking breakfast for something else as me just misremembering events.. But something unmistakable is the fact that somehow my mom both never drove me to school, yet the fact that she.. always had.
If you're confused, I understand. I am too, because the contradicting nature of my memory is something that haunts me to no end.
Things were easier as a child. That's often the case, but ever sense I stopped aging, I've begun to notice the oddities presented by life that are.. inexplainable. I'm not even sure where to start with researching my predicament. Hell, this is reddit! If I couldn't find an answer here, I doubt there is an answer to be found at all.
The Mandela Effect is something that I feel needs no introduction. To those who don't know, the Mandela Effect, in brief, is a phenomenon that incurs when you "misremember" something. Think of a card, now imagine you saw that card as a child and it had a single heart drawn on it's center. Now, years later you are discussing this card with someone else just for them to tell you that the heart you swear, the heart you KNOW you saw.. was a diamond. You tell them they are wrong, you shake your head, chuckle nervously.. But then they present you with the card.
Your stomach drops. This can't be the card, there is no way! Only it is the card, and when you come to the realization that it is in fact the card you'd seen as a child, you are filled with a mix of confusion, fascination, and quite possibly denial.
Most often, the Mandela Effect is associated with silly things like books titles, and board game mascots, but my experience is far beyond such things. It's the only phenomenon I've found that seems even within the realm of explaining my predicament. Problem is, the more I think, the more is wrong.
All of me wishes it all ended with that one childhood experience! But it didn't. In fact, the more I consider my childhood, the more contradictions I notice. Part of me believes I could handle this if it was limited to my childhood, but it's not. This.. experience... It effects my every day!
I'm not losing my mind, I'm just picking up crumbs that I never dropped. Not.. losing my mind, just finding more "mind" than the inventory should account for.

A conversation with a few friends of mine some skins have certain audiences to them and certain people will pick them more than others that's just the nature of people, and sometimes these people can be fit into certain groups, and certain stereotypes which is also nature of people. So I will be talking about these stereotypes, with 4-8 champs at a time depending on how many skins they have, starting with- Not androxus- but some general skin types etc.
Let me start off by saying that stereotypes are broad, and over generalized by nature, and not everyone is the same we're not Buzz Lightyear here, at the very least these are meant for fun.

Basic Recolours

The recolours you can buy for gold often attract semi-new players those that got the champions they like and often will spend "extra" gold on recolours.
They're most likely new at the game, or at the very least their champion.
Certain recolours will be brought up again per champion if they add anything different or have a different stereotype.

System Recolours/Promotional Recolours

So these guys probably are more likely to be even newer than the basic recolours since they got them from linking accounts or following/subscribing to different social media and all that.

Mastery/Gold Skins

Assuming it's gold they're probably confident in their skill with a champion and want to display that, but with the obsidian and cosmic ones they tend to be the same as basic and promotional recolours.

Invitational/Event Recolours

Okay so we're done with recolours after this I promise but often these are old school players, often ignoring the actual quality of skins to more say that's when they were around.

Hats

Hats are kinda the same as the event/invitation recolours but they can also be found on new players who got the hat from a chest, in general if they have a proper skin they'll dump these for the skin so at the very least that leaves semi experienced players who finds the frog hat more funny than they do the cowboy cool.

Androxus

It's fair to say that Android is the poster boy of paladins and since he's relatively old he's got a lot of skins over the years and he's got quite the audience, I mean really he's the guy they show on the splash art of the game like imagine little Timmy seeing his older brother playing Androgenous "Who's the cool guy with the revolver and horns?" And his brother is like "That's my main Abolitionist" and then next game Timmy is playing Angrosist.
And they're very against nerfs every time pretending it'll kill Ambrosia and every time he's just fine maybe the fact he's got a solid baseline kit means he's not struggling when nerfs come knocking. Either way it doesn't stop the complaints.
Often Anglo (Okay the bits running thin) players take themselves seriously, whether you should depends, and depends alot. But he does inevitably attract edgelords, assholes, and blowhards.

Exalted

Exalted Andros tend to hold themselves in high regard but at the same time tend to suck, they bought this skin since it was cheap and with it are often not that great.

Imperator

So imperator is basically the same as exalted in looks but it does have the caveat that it's actually not as readily available which means someone has to make a active choice to run this, these guys are pretty much more for simplicity and class over complexity and fancy stuff, this means you'll see them play pretty good Andro where they'll stick to the stuff that works rather than flashy montage worthy stuff, they can do these but they more prefer understated competency over flashy nonsense.

Screech

This is a hat that actually has a stereotype since it's not apart of a chest it's from the deal of the day that makes a difference to who is using it. These guys are mostly raging blowhards, they think they're gods at the game but they're not as good as they believe, like antlers they say crap but not enough to get banned. This changes to just normal tryhards when they get their hands on shattermaw, almost every Andro with this skin and shattermaw are more interested in shitting on you and moving on to the next, they really only do really good in casuals without comms, but they can get work done in ranked.

Cangaceiro

Okay so this guy either uses the Shatter Maw and same deal as Screech Andro's or they run they Huntsman's gun and if you get to talk to them in a party or something they'll cry about how the pirate skins in Paladins Strike aren't ported over to paladins. It's weird and it's specific. They do tend to be nicer and less serious than Screech Andros.

Huntsman

These are the most average Andro's in existence, they certainly exist but they're not too interesting all considering. They're not bad or good, or particularly toxic or nice or anything like that, they just exist.

Steam Demon

I mean there's a Young Frankenstein joke to be made here. But Andro's running the steam demon skin tend to be uptight and expect people to carry their own weight... Of course the chance they tend to mess up they go silent, they're not rude perse but they sure do expect a lot.

Fallen

These are the guys who listened to Nightcore- Angel with a shotgun too much and will be very melodramatic, and tend to be almost always a downer for the team, they do clutch up though so something to be said.

Battlesuit Godslayer

No one really uses this skin if they have others, really this skin doesn't sell the gundam vibes the others do maybe it's because of his waistcost flowing back there but really he just looks like a guy in a robot suit

Steelforged/Dragonforged

These Andros are just as dramatic as Fallen Andros but they seem to be in on the joke and often will more be self aware, they will be playing like some viking bagpipe metal music so it's not all good with them.

Avatar

These guys probably blame their support and will unironically quots the skin, not realizing it's making fun of them. They also probably are tickled by the fact it looks likr a Xbox 360

Modded

Now often with battlepass skins their recolours are basically the same stereotype normally but for Modded these guys have basically brain rotten themselves down to the same level with their obsession with RGB lights.

Exterminate

Yeah another skin no one uses really, unless they're really interested in the cat in his backpack otherwise it's just not really a great skin since it's just a guy in a dragon ball z kai uniform without the cool ass powers and literal royalty free music.

Grave Danger

This is Kinda like omen it's not as self aware but it's hard to take this skin more seriously than default and these guys tend to be chill but it's a newer skin so it's not exactly like there's room to have a stereotype yet, which is fair but still other skins still have stereotypes that formed same day as their release.

Golden

Now it's rare that a gold skin that doesn't change something about a character shows up but this is widespread since every Andro on earth who runs this will almost always have a bloated ego, whether it's 50 or 550 these guys are super quick to be offended and will tunnel the shit out of you for just about anything.

Ash

Ash is weirdly uncommon despite being free, probably because everyone is running at point with her and she basically loses that engagement to every proper point tank, she is a offtank first and foremost after all.
As for stereotypes there is a few thing that I've noticed with Ash's (Ashes? Ashs? Ash players) First is if they're running the default voice pack even with other skins they're definitely offtanking.
And another oddity is the Ash mains that have more than one skin tend to never properly match their weapons and skins up, it's weird but every other Ash main I see runs a different weapon and skin.

Heirloom Crest

So I bring this hat up because unlike anyone else with a hat skin no one wears this, honestly it should just come with a different version of Ronin but really this is the exception to the hatskin rule, these guys are just new players who got it from a chest and felt justified in using it because they spent crystals on a chest.

Ronin

Ronin Ash players kinda just suck, it can be a matter of many different things as to why these guys struggle, they could suck at shooting people, they could be bad at positioning, trying to point tank, they're using their abilities at shit times, they could be great with all of that and still they'll have a terrible deck and talents.
These guys just suck

Xenobuster

Xenobuster Ash players tend to run into fights they shouldn't and lose, this more or less comes from the overuse of shoulder bash, otherwise they're probably running knock back spam, they're most likely to be found on TDM Throne or Abyss trying to wait around corners to throw you off. They will go spastic if you buy sentinel.

Street Style

These guys are meatheats, they're less interested in actually capturing the point and more just want teamfights, the objective and space are biproducts, as such you'll see these guys with really selfish buys, and decks, and they'll steal kills with slugshot, they're not doing it intentionally but they are rude.

Ska'Drin

Ska'Drin Ash players often properly play Ash as offtank and for the most part are good sports, it's nice enough at least when these guys are working with you, they will probably ask for someone to point tank while they do their thing.

Scorned

Another recolour with a different stereotype, these guys are also playing Ash as offtanks but their also raging assholes, and will bitch and moan from just about anything, whether it's their fault or not they'll yell at their team, though at the same time they are probably making space, and do their job well enough

Draconian Huntress

As mentioned earlier Ash mains tend to be rather rare, and the amount of people who'd go out of their way for this skin is rarer, these guys pretty much are guaranteed to be Ash mains or at the very least skin collectors. As for gameplay it's hard to say since I've seen like 4 people use this skin

Atlas

Atlas mains are pretty much obsessed with telling you they're Atlas mains it's like telling people you don't play fortnite or something. Like good on you mate, but I and I'm pretty sure most of the world don't really care. Skill ranges wildly and skins for the most part don't really change that.

Chronomancer

So uh this skin no one uses, you'll more likely find a Atlas running default with this Skin's gun, it's weird it's specific and I have no idea why it's like this... Oh yeah because Atlas looks awful without a beard.

Legionnaire

So Legionnaire Atlas is kinda a situation like Grave Danger Andro mostly because the skin again looks kind of goofy, though for the effort put into it, it's at least nice. Still these guys take themselves just as seriously as the skin does.

Corrupt/Vile

Most of these guys just suck like sure there's bound to be a good Corrupt or Vile Atlas out there but every one I've seen just sucks. It's a bloody shame since they're nice skins.

Azaan

Azaan doesn't really have too many skins to talk about but at the same time most people aren't exactly Azaan mains he's kind of a back pocket kind of champion.

Forgemaster

These guys actually main Azaan, and they're quick to get defensive on why they pick the shirtless Azaan skin

Dark Drake

I don't get how anyone understands this skin, it's so garbled and just nonsense, there's no real stereotype but I did find out that this skin has the same voice actor as Freddy Fazbear...

Barik

Again Barik mains are a rarity and, nost of the time I only really see last/bottom picks grabbing Barik and doing really nothing all game but cry about their team not carrying them.

Hi-Tek/Stonecut

If a champion has access to their pre-reworks skins and in general just older skins they're often on the cheaper side and really are just bought by newbies due to this, that's really it outside of the odd end nastolgia tripper.

Team Fortress 2

So you get this skin in a way that's similar to promotional recolours, and it's more or less exclusive to steam, it's a safe bet that a TF2 Barik is new at the game and on steam, that's it.

Swashbuckler

Pirate skins often invite people into running teams of pirates skins, outside of that Swashbuckler Bariks tend to more or less the point jockey they live on the point they die on the point.

Steel/Dragon Forged Barik

This guy listens to diggy diggy hole and probably runs some stupid deck that relies on a gimmick these guys are here for fun and will probably do something cool, maybe?

Betty

Betty is new-ish and so she only has the one skin, Betty kinda is the easy version of both Willo and Dredge without the impact of either, this means Betty attracts bad players.

Dragonette

Bowsette meme aside this is Betty's only real skin and so it's kinda broad to say anything but I assume once she gets something else it'll attract... A certain audience.
So yeah 5 champs, feel free to suggest anything for future champions I'll probably see or agree with them.