How to resign without notice

I finally published for the first time. Not the first time I've finished a novel, but certainly the first time I have actively published one .. one that I've been a little proud of. I know it's a long process to get noticed, or even start to see some traction in sales & downloads, but how do you go about promoting your novel? I feel like I'm stuck. 😕
Beginning of chapter one below - if anyone would like to provide feedback that would be lovely. 🙂
[2,310] It began like a surreal haze, a fever dream dancing with unknown figures swirling around her like a languid tornado, their movements seemingly slowed by some unseen force as she awoke to a world spinning out of her control. She found herself surrounded by strangers who moved like spectres in a dream, fragmented flashes who assaulted her consciousness - a woman gently pressing a cloth to her throbbing head, another offering sips of water while she coughed and struggled to swallow, a man peering down at her with a furrowed brow, and a mysterious figure lingering in the doorway with an unsettling glint of desire in his eyes.
The room buzzed with a quiet urgency as they hovered around her, their faces etched with concern and something else she couldn't quite place - an undercurrent of tension that seemed to pulse in time with her own racing heart. These disjointed images flitted in and out, creating a mosaic of fragmented reality. Awake, her body throbbed with pain; asleep, she plunged into a black abyss, time slipping away unnoticed. Each awakening brought the desire for oblivion as her mind plunged back into the depths of darkness.
Beth jolted upright, startled by the sharp bang of a car backfiring. A cry of pain escaped her lips as she attempted to sit up, her back and legs resisting her will. A woman, the same from her fleeting visions, hurried into the room with a damp cloth and a glass of water.
"Easy now," the woman spoke gently, her mild Spanish accent adding warmth to her sharp words as she pressed the cloth to Beth's forehead and helped her sit up, "you're weak, rushing won't do you any favours. The sooner you regain strength, the sooner you can move."
A man, the one with the odd expression in her visions, appeared in the doorway once again; "and the sooner we can leave this place, I'm sick of it." He grumbled, striding away with urgency and frustration. His steps were heavy and fraught with agitation, each one seeming to leave a deep imprint on the ground beneath him. His grumbling was like distant thunder, punctuated by the clenching of his jaw and the tightening of his fists.
"Don't mind my brother," the woman interjected sharply, "it's not you - he hates everyone." Hate, Beth pondered, wondering what she might have done to earn his disdain.
"Are you hungry?" The woman stood, walking to the other side of the room to adjust another pillow behind Beth's back. Beth nodded; "I'll get you some soup."
Left alone, Beth surveyed the room - beige walls, a shattered TV, torn brown curtains. She squinted at the notepad on the side table, revealing the branding - Mill Village Motel Eatonville. The coffee pod machine at the room's far end, covered in dust, hinted at a neglected past.
"You're awake," startled, Beth turned to find the man with the furrowed brow at the door - tall and dark, with piercing brown eyes, he appeared softer now, "how are you feeling?" Beth managed a brief smile before adjusting herself, wincing in pain. He rushed to offer a hand, and she took his arm to shift as he adjusted the pillow.
"Want to give walking a try?" The man's warm, brown eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled down at her, his features etched with concern, his furrowed brow now smooth and his brown eyes sparkled with an unfamiliar kindness.
She shook her head, and the woman returned with soup and water; "she needs to eat before attempting to walk, Austin," she said, setting the tray before Beth.
"Then we'll try again tomorrow," Austin expressed, heading towards the door, "the sooner we leave, the better - we've been here for too long." His footsteps echoed with determination and authority, less frustrated than the other man's but equally resolute.
"I apologise if it's cold. Heating options are limited here. Need a hand?" The woman offered. Beth shook her head, the pounding of her headache resonating through her body.
"Well I'll leave you to it then. Shout out if you need anything, if you can talk at all." Beth glanced down at her bowl of soup, parting her lips as if to speak, but no words escaped. A deep sigh escaped from the woman's mouth as she turned and left the room, leaving Beth alone with her cold, untouched meal. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of muffed chatter outside.
The days stretched longer as Beth's need for rest diminished. Boredom and confusion settled in, intensifying as the people from her visions became tangible presences, moving in and out of her room. They attended to her needs but seldom engaged in conversation. At night, their muffled voices in the adjoining room became a distant comfort, and the faint echoes of their arguments a source of intrigue.
"We need to leave," a frustrated male voice pierced through the thin walls, "we have to head further south before winter traps us with little supplies and an extra mouth to feed - considering you're all so intent on keeping this girl alive."
"This woman," a familiar female voice retorted, likely the one who had been caring for her, "needed help - I distinctly remember a time when I wasn't doing well and needed it too."
"You're my sister, of course, I wasn't going to leave you behind."
"I'm not talking about you, Luis," she yelled, "I'm talking about before you came back from Minnesota and found me."
"Why can't we just leave her here with some supplies and a gun. Why do we need to bring her with us?"
"Jesus Christ Luis we're not leaving her here alone and you two can have it out later," intervened another man, "but Luis is right - we need to leave before the snow settles in."
The argument faded into muffled voices again, and Beth strained to catch the words exchanged between the trio. A knock at the door startled her.
"May I come in?" A young girl, the same from her visions, had opened the door quietly without her even noticing. "I thought the yelling might have woken you." Beth nodded, maintaining her silence.
"I'm Chantelle." Her soft Southern accent flowed like a gentle breeze through a cornfield. She pulled up a chair beside the bed. "Luis can get into it with everybody, but he means well. Well, no, that's a lie. I don't know why I said that. He's a dick."
"I gathered," Beth whispered and laughed a little, suddenly overtaken by a violent cough.
Chantelle rushed to hand her water; "so, you do speak. From the way Austin and Val were sayin' it, it sounded like you were mute. I thought, you couldn't be deaf because you've been nodding and smiling like a dang puppet."
Beth laughed and took another sip; "I didn't really have anything worth saying until now. No one has bothered to make conversation."
"Your accent, where are you from?" Chantelle sat down on the wooden chair, her long dark hair cascading down her back in gentle curls. Her bright brown eyes sparkled with kindness as she looked towards Beth.
"Australia," Beth paused, realising she hadn't thought about home for a while, "I'm from Australia," she repeated.
Chantelle pulled out a deck of cards; "well, I figured you might be bored and needed a little human interaction that didn't make you feel like you were in a hospital."
Beth's eyes lit up, and Chantelle smiled; "what do you want to play?"
— — —
"What do you think you are doing?" Austin stormed into the motel room.
"We're leaving. Today," Luis' words cut through the air.
"The van's still in bad shape, and we won't survive this winter on foot." Austin's arms were folded tightly across his chest, the muscles in his biceps and forearms bulging with tension. His jaw was clenched, and his brows furrowed in frustration.
"Then fix the damn van!" Luis yelled, the sound piercing through the walls and resonating outside the motel room for others to hear the heated exchange.
"Oh, sorry, I'll just take it down the road to the mechanic, shall I?" Austin raised a quizzical eyebrow, smirking at his friend. The men paused their argument, exchanging laughter.
"Luis, what's going on with you?" Austin softened his tone, taking a seat on the other bed. "We've been friends since high school, grew up together, served in the army together. This isn't you."
"I don't know, man." Luis sat on the other bed, facing his friend, his face buried in his hands. He rubbed his face hard, threw his head back, and sighed heavily. "This just isn't—" he paused.
"Isn't what?"
"Isn't life." Luis gestured around the room.
"We'll get to the coast, find a boat, just like we planned." There was a slight taste of bitterness in the air, as if Austin's mild frustration was tangible.
"And then what?"
"Do the best we can," Austin stood up, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, "we all have our dark moments, brother. You helped me get through mine, I'll help you get through yours."
Austin walked out of the motel room into the crisp morning air. The atmosphere was fresh, with a subtle scent of dew and grass. The sweet aroma of winter's imminent arrival filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of burning oil from their broken down van across the parking lot.
"Ben thinks he can fix the van by tomorrow. He found the parts we need on the other side of town." Val caught Austin as he had walked outside.
"He went scouting alone?" Austin looked across the lot at Ben, deep into the hood of the black church van they had found a while back.
Chantelle bounded up before she could answer; "Beth seems much better today. She's eatin' and drinkin' more. I think she could try walkin' today."
"Beth?" Val and Austin remarked in unison.
"Mmm, she speaks - she might have a lot more to say if either of you bothered to converse with her instead of just talkin' to her." She walked off towards Ben, a light air in her hopeful stride.
— — —
Austin found Beth sitting on the edge of her bed, her feet bare and dangling idly over the side. Her toes were curled, squeezing them tightly as she wiggled them back and forth. Her face was tense with concentration as she tried to alleviate the tingling sensation in her feet.
"Beth." His voice was soothing and calming, his words spoken with a gentle tone as he tried to ease Beth's discomfort.
"Chantelle?" She looked up at him, as he nodded, smiling gently. "She's a good kid." She smiled and looked back at her toes.
"Do you want to try walking today?" He walked towards the chair on the other side of the room and sat down as it creaked underneath the weight of him.
"The sooner I can walk, the sooner you can get out of here." She said with a sarcastic air, mocking Luis.
"The sooner we can get out of here." He repeated sarcastically with a smile, a light spread of jest washing over him as he joined her in mocking his friend.
"Your friend Luis seems to be very against bringing me along with you." She looked back at him.
"I'm not in the business of leaving people behind. Especially in Washington in the middle of October," he sat forward, leaning his elbows on his knees, "you wouldn't survive the winter."
"Then maybe you should have just left me to die." She turned her body to face him abruptly. He opened his mouth to speak, but she interjected before he could respond.
"Why did you help me? You don't know me, why did you even bother?"
"Like I said, Beth," he stood up, his wistful tone switching back to cold and dry, "I'm not in the business of leaving people behind." He walked over to her slowly.
"I've lost too many people. I've watched people kill others over a can of soup. I've seen friends leave friends behind to save themselves," he sat down on the end of her bed, "I don't leave people behind."
His brown eyes cut through his words like a thunderstorm. She looked at his face, tired and weathered from sleepless nights with one eye open to ensure his group's safety. She pegged him as their leader - strong and determined with clear military training.
"What happened to you?" She asked softly.
"What happened to you?" He countered; "I refuse to believe you survived a pandemic alone for six months in a foreign country."
She said nothing and looked back at her feet. They sat in silence for a while before he stood up and headed for the door.
"We're leaving the day after tomorrow. We need to head south before it's too cold, and we don't know how long the van or the car will last, so part of that might be on foot."
"I'll try walking today." Beth nodded obediently.
"I'll send Val and Chantelle in to help you." He replied, his voice maintaining the cold cadency.
"Thank you." She smiled, wriggling her toes as the numbness started to dissipate. Before he could leave, she looked up at him again.
"Austin?" He stopped at the door and turned to her. "I know you've all done a lot for me, including putting your friendship with Luis on the line, so thank you. But I have a favour to ask," her voice grew quiet, "before we leave."
"What is it?" He asked sternly at her audacity to ask for another favour.
She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. He noticed her green eyes glisten with the added layer of acridity and the change in her demeanour; "before we leave, I need you to help me bury my husband."

I finally published for the first time. Not the first time I've finished a novel, but certainly the first time I have actively published one .. one that I've been a little proud of. I know it's a long process to get noticed, or even start to see some traction in sales & downloads, but how do you go about promoting your novel? I feel like I'm stuck. 😕
Beginning of chapter one below - if anyone would like to provide feedback that would be lovely. 🙂
[2,310] It began like a surreal haze, a fever dream dancing with unknown figures swirling around her like a languid tornado, their movements seemingly slowed by some unseen force as she awoke to a world spinning out of her control. She found herself surrounded by strangers who moved like spectres in a dream, fragmented flashes who assaulted her consciousness - a woman gently pressing a cloth to her throbbing head, another offering sips of water while she coughed and struggled to swallow, a man peering down at her with a furrowed brow, and a mysterious figure lingering in the doorway with an unsettling glint of desire in his eyes.
The room buzzed with a quiet urgency as they hovered around her, their faces etched with concern and something else she couldn't quite place - an undercurrent of tension that seemed to pulse in time with her own racing heart. These disjointed images flitted in and out, creating a mosaic of fragmented reality. Awake, her body throbbed with pain; asleep, she plunged into a black abyss, time slipping away unnoticed. Each awakening brought the desire for oblivion as her mind plunged back into the depths of darkness.
Beth jolted upright, startled by the sharp bang of a car backfiring. A cry of pain escaped her lips as she attempted to sit up, her back and legs resisting her will. A woman, the same from her fleeting visions, hurried into the room with a damp cloth and a glass of water.
"Easy now," the woman spoke gently, her mild Spanish accent adding warmth to her sharp words as she pressed the cloth to Beth's forehead and helped her sit up, "you're weak, rushing won't do you any favours. The sooner you regain strength, the sooner you can move."
A man, the one with the odd expression in her visions, appeared in the doorway once again; "and the sooner we can leave this place, I'm sick of it." He grumbled, striding away with urgency and frustration. His steps were heavy and fraught with agitation, each one seeming to leave a deep imprint on the ground beneath him. His grumbling was like distant thunder, punctuated by the clenching of his jaw and the tightening of his fists.
"Don't mind my brother," the woman interjected sharply, "it's not you - he hates everyone." Hate, Beth pondered, wondering what she might have done to earn his disdain.
"Are you hungry?" The woman stood, walking to the other side of the room to adjust another pillow behind Beth's back. Beth nodded; "I'll get you some soup."
Left alone, Beth surveyed the room - beige walls, a shattered TV, torn brown curtains. She squinted at the notepad on the side table, revealing the branding - Mill Village Motel Eatonville. The coffee pod machine at the room's far end, covered in dust, hinted at a neglected past.
"You're awake," startled, Beth turned to find the man with the furrowed brow at the door - tall and dark, with piercing brown eyes, he appeared softer now, "how are you feeling?" Beth managed a brief smile before adjusting herself, wincing in pain. He rushed to offer a hand, and she took his arm to shift as he adjusted the pillow.
"Want to give walking a try?" The man's warm, brown eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled down at her, his features etched with concern, his furrowed brow now smooth and his brown eyes sparkled with an unfamiliar kindness.
She shook her head, and the woman returned with soup and water; "she needs to eat before attempting to walk, Austin," she said, setting the tray before Beth.
"Then we'll try again tomorrow," Austin expressed, heading towards the door, "the sooner we leave, the better - we've been here for too long." His footsteps echoed with determination and authority, less frustrated than the other man's but equally resolute.
"I apologise if it's cold. Heating options are limited here. Need a hand?" The woman offered. Beth shook her head, the pounding of her headache resonating through her body.
"Well I'll leave you to it then. Shout out if you need anything, if you can talk at all." Beth glanced down at her bowl of soup, parting her lips as if to speak, but no words escaped. A deep sigh escaped from the woman's mouth as she turned and left the room, leaving Beth alone with her cold, untouched meal. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of muffed chatter outside.
The days stretched longer as Beth's need for rest diminished. Boredom and confusion settled in, intensifying as the people from her visions became tangible presences, moving in and out of her room. They attended to her needs but seldom engaged in conversation. At night, their muffled voices in the adjoining room became a distant comfort, and the faint echoes of their arguments a source of intrigue.
"We need to leave," a frustrated male voice pierced through the thin walls, "we have to head further south before winter traps us with little supplies and an extra mouth to feed - considering you're all so intent on keeping this girl alive."
"This woman," a familiar female voice retorted, likely the one who had been caring for her, "needed help - I distinctly remember a time when I wasn't doing well and needed it too."
"You're my sister, of course, I wasn't going to leave you behind."
"I'm not talking about you, Luis," she yelled, "I'm talking about before you came back from Minnesota and found me."
"Why can't we just leave her here with some supplies and a gun. Why do we need to bring her with us?"
"Jesus Christ Luis we're not leaving her here alone and you two can have it out later," intervened another man, "but Luis is right - we need to leave before the snow settles in."
The argument faded into muffled voices again, and Beth strained to catch the words exchanged between the trio. A knock at the door startled her.
"May I come in?" A young girl, the same from her visions, had opened the door quietly without her even noticing. "I thought the yelling might have woken you." Beth nodded, maintaining her silence.
"I'm Chantelle." Her soft Southern accent flowed like a gentle breeze through a cornfield. She pulled up a chair beside the bed. "Luis can get into it with everybody, but he means well. Well, no, that's a lie. I don't know why I said that. He's a dick."
"I gathered," Beth whispered and laughed a little, suddenly overtaken by a violent cough.
Chantelle rushed to hand her water; "so, you do speak. From the way Austin and Val were sayin' it, it sounded like you were mute. I thought, you couldn't be deaf because you've been nodding and smiling like a dang puppet."
Beth laughed and took another sip; "I didn't really have anything worth saying until now. No one has bothered to make conversation."
"Your accent, where are you from?" Chantelle sat down on the wooden chair, her long dark hair cascading down her back in gentle curls. Her bright brown eyes sparkled with kindness as she looked towards Beth.
"Australia," Beth paused, realising she hadn't thought about home for a while, "I'm from Australia," she repeated.
Chantelle pulled out a deck of cards; "well, I figured you might be bored and needed a little human interaction that didn't make you feel like you were in a hospital."
Beth's eyes lit up, and Chantelle smiled; "what do you want to play?"
— — —
"What do you think you are doing?" Austin stormed into the motel room.
"We're leaving. Today," Luis' words cut through the air.
"The van's still in bad shape, and we won't survive this winter on foot." Austin's arms were folded tightly across his chest, the muscles in his biceps and forearms bulging with tension. His jaw was clenched, and his brows furrowed in frustration.
"Then fix the damn van!" Luis yelled, the sound piercing through the walls and resonating outside the motel room for others to hear the heated exchange.
"Oh, sorry, I'll just take it down the road to the mechanic, shall I?" Austin raised a quizzical eyebrow, smirking at his friend. The men paused their argument, exchanging laughter.
"Luis, what's going on with you?" Austin softened his tone, taking a seat on the other bed. "We've been friends since high school, grew up together, served in the army together. This isn't you."
"I don't know, man." Luis sat on the other bed, facing his friend, his face buried in his hands. He rubbed his face hard, threw his head back, and sighed heavily. "This just isn't—" he paused.
"Isn't what?"
"Isn't life." Luis gestured around the room.
"We'll get to the coast, find a boat, just like we planned." There was a slight taste of bitterness in the air, as if Austin's mild frustration was tangible.
"And then what?"
"Do the best we can," Austin stood up, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, "we all have our dark moments, brother. You helped me get through mine, I'll help you get through yours."
Austin walked out of the motel room into the crisp morning air. The atmosphere was fresh, with a subtle scent of dew and grass. The sweet aroma of winter's imminent arrival filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of burning oil from their broken down van across the parking lot.
"Ben thinks he can fix the van by tomorrow. He found the parts we need on the other side of town." Val caught Austin as he had walked outside.
"He went scouting alone?" Austin looked across the lot at Ben, deep into the hood of the black church van they had found a while back.
Chantelle bounded up before she could answer; "Beth seems much better today. She's eatin' and drinkin' more. I think she could try walkin' today."
"Beth?" Val and Austin remarked in unison.
"Mmm, she speaks - she might have a lot more to say if either of you bothered to converse with her instead of just talkin' to her." She walked off towards Ben, a light air in her hopeful stride.
— — —
Austin found Beth sitting on the edge of her bed, her feet bare and dangling idly over the side. Her toes were curled, squeezing them tightly as she wiggled them back and forth. Her face was tense with concentration as she tried to alleviate the tingling sensation in her feet.
"Beth." His voice was soothing and calming, his words spoken with a gentle tone as he tried to ease Beth's discomfort.
"Chantelle?" She looked up at him, as he nodded, smiling gently. "She's a good kid." She smiled and looked back at her toes.
"Do you want to try walking today?" He walked towards the chair on the other side of the room and sat down as it creaked underneath the weight of him.
"The sooner I can walk, the sooner you can get out of here." She said with a sarcastic air, mocking Luis.
"The sooner we can get out of here." He repeated sarcastically with a smile, a light spread of jest washing over him as he joined her in mocking his friend.
"Your friend Luis seems to be very against bringing me along with you." She looked back at him.
"I'm not in the business of leaving people behind. Especially in Washington in the middle of October," he sat forward, leaning his elbows on his knees, "you wouldn't survive the winter."
"Then maybe you should have just left me to die." She turned her body to face him abruptly. He opened his mouth to speak, but she interjected before he could respond.
"Why did you help me? You don't know me, why did you even bother?"
"Like I said, Beth," he stood up, his wistful tone switching back to cold and dry, "I'm not in the business of leaving people behind." He walked over to her slowly.
"I've lost too many people. I've watched people kill others over a can of soup. I've seen friends leave friends behind to save themselves," he sat down on the end of her bed, "I don't leave people behind."
His brown eyes cut through his words like a thunderstorm. She looked at his face, tired and weathered from sleepless nights with one eye open to ensure his group's safety. She pegged him as their leader - strong and determined with clear military training.
"What happened to you?" She asked softly.
"What happened to you?" He countered; "I refuse to believe you survived a pandemic alone for six months in a foreign country."
She said nothing and looked back at her feet. They sat in silence for a while before he stood up and headed for the door.
"We're leaving the day after tomorrow. We need to head south before it's too cold, and we don't know how long the van or the car will last, so part of that might be on foot."
"I'll try walking today." Beth nodded obediently.
"I'll send Val and Chantelle in to help you." He replied, his voice maintaining the cold cadency.
"Thank you." She smiled, wriggling her toes as the numbness started to dissipate. Before he could leave, she looked up at him again.
"Austin?" He stopped at the door and turned to her. "I know you've all done a lot for me, including putting your friendship with Luis on the line, so thank you. But I have a favour to ask," her voice grew quiet, "before we leave."
"What is it?" He asked sternly at her audacity to ask for another favour.
She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. He noticed her green eyes glisten with the added layer of acridity and the change in her demeanour; "before we leave, I need you to help me bury my husband."

SOME BACKGROUND:
I'm going to be upfront; the one thing truly stopping me from saying I am autistic with full certainty is my lack of an official diagnosis, despite having the knowledge that one does not need to be diagnosed to be autistic. I'm almost entirely certain after about 8 or so years of consideration. I'm attempting to seek a diagnosis not only for personal validation though, but also to have something concrete to give to my parents. For now, I consider myself self-diagnosed, though I've given my psychiatrist a 20 page document detailing why I believe I would benefit from a proper evaluation as well as all of the experiences and the collection of traits I have that I attribute to being autistic.
For some background: I am 20 and AFAB, transmasc but presenting as female due to not being out of the closet. I am Vietnamese and part of the first generation in my family to be born in America. My parents and grandparents were born and raised in Vietnam, and thus were raised with a very different culture surrounding things such as mental health and disability compared to the information I've had access to growing up in the US. I still live with my parents and am struggling with already diagnosed mental health issues including major depressive disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, unspecified ADHD, and an unspecified trauma disorder. Because of the language and cultural barrier, my parents are really only aware of the depression in name, and the ADHD they understand even less. They are trying their best, though my dad hasn't looked at any of the resources I've sent him about ADHD or autism in my attempts to help him understand better.
On my dad in particular: he has always been the kind to believe in toughing things out and simply trying harder. Over the years he has grown to be more understanding, especially as my mental health issues grew to degrees that became harder to hide, but we have a history in terms of what I'm about to describe re: my very recent meltdown.
WHAT HAPPENED:
The day before Mother's Day, my dad sprung up on me without warning that me and my younger brother were going over to our paternal grandparents' house to wish our grandmother a happy Mother's Day. This immediately upset me not because I didn't want to go, but because I hadn't had the time to mentally prepare myself for the shift in my routine—I had only done so for the actual date of Mother's Day. I've asked my family before that I am told ahead of time when plans to go out of the house where I'm involved are made, preferably at least a day beforehand. Unfortunately, my family is comprised of very spontaneous people who tend to make plans on the fly.
I made it clear I was fairly upset about not being told ahead of time to my mother, who thanked me when I got up to get ready to go. Something about being thanked for this was the final nail in the coffin for the upset that was gripping me. I think it was the idea that she knew full well that I was attempting to set aside my own comforts(? for lack of a better term) for the sake of family normality; something that I've had to do often.
I had a quiet breakdown in the bathroom while I washed myself, which came with the annoyance of how snotty tears would make you. Very annoying when bowing your head to wash your hair. I've had practice locking myself in the bathroom to have my breakdowns in a private place where I couldn't be walked in on and then questioned, because I always knew that I could never explain why I was having such a disproportionate reaction, especially given the cultural barrier. It would all seem stupid, immature, selfish, spoiled, and an overreaction. My plan was to cry it out in the shower and come back out after composing myself so we could leave. Tried and true method. I bit the back of my hands—to stifle my crying, to give myself a physical sensation to ground myself with, some combination of those two. It helped only a little bit.
As it turns out, there was a lot of baggage behind this upset outside of just this one incident. There is a very long-running pattern in which I must sacrifice my comfort or suck up my complaints in order to appease whatever my parents have decided to do, or whatever I was expected to do.
Sometimes it was their obsession with taking billions of family pictures—I vividly recall one instance where I was horribly upset about having to wear a dress, especially for the sole sake of driving to some flower field just to take pretty family pictures of which we have thousands. I was much younger at the time, maybe 14, and was expressing my upset in the only somewhat acceptable way I could, i.e. being incredibly grumpy. Eventually my dad blew up at me for being spoiled and various other things while I cried in the back of the car, my mother and younger brother dead silent. He drove to cool off. We did not talk about it ever again afterward.
Sometimes it was school-related. When I was around 11, I was struggling to complete an assignment for school for reasons I couldn't articulate, and honestly still can't. It was simple, and it was a drawing assignment, and I absolutely adored traditional art. But I was simply Stuck on some part, and was working myself into an anxious mess up until midnight. I was terrified of getting bad grades, of not meeting the expectations of people I considered authority figures, such as teachers. So much so that I wanted to stay home. And knowing I had no "proper" excuse, I tried to use a different one when I asked to stay home for that one day: menstrual cramps. I was told to see how I was doing in the morning.
In the morning I still said I wished to stay home from school due to cramps. After a lot of deliberation with my mother, she relented and allowed me to stay home. Despite the fact that I had gotten what I wanted, I was already horribly upset. Looking back on it, I think it was the fact that I had to fight so hard to stay home for just one day. It was upsetting that my visible upset wasn't enough. It was upsetting that they weren't just getting it.
I had a breakdown in the bathroom (there's a trend here as you can see) and slammed my arm against the heater in there so many times that I ended up with horrible bruising on the back of my arm the days after. My family members knocked on the door because people needed to get ready, and that only made me more upset—couldn't they hear me crying? Didn't they care? When I finally came out and crawled up into the upper bunk, my dad came in and started yelling at me.
Your average stuff, things like, "If I had a stomachache I wouldn't just be able to not go to work." I blocked a lot of it out of my memory, but most of the time I was under the covers crying while he engaged in a one-sided shouting match with me. Eventually my mother came in and gently asked me to stop crying, and to stop making my father mad.
While these two incidents and the others like them happened years ago, they were defining moments in my life and inform how I handle conflict (as in: I don't) and how I go about expressing my struggles (as in: rarely, and often with great shame). Standing in the shower and being unable to not think about these things, I spiraled further. It felt like I was being swallowed by my emotions. I don't know if angry or sad or upset really capture what I was feeling properly. My thoughts were like a car with its brakes cut, going at breakneck speeds on the highway.
By the time I was done with my shower I still wasn't composed. As it turns out, when you abuse a coping mechanism that relies on repression as long as I did, it stops working at some point. There was just too much to try and hide. More hand biting happened along with some hitting my head with my fists. So I sat in my room, and eventually my mom came in and saw my face. Unsurprisingly she didn't acknowledge the fact that I had clearly been crying—instead, with a soft voice, like she was coaxing a small child into doing something vaguely unpleasant, she told me, "Come on, let's go." And I'm sure that's how she was seeing me at that point. An oppositional, defiant child. I struggle not to see myself in that way, and still have been trying to unpack how much shame I feel when things like this happen.
My crying started up again because my tear ducts really don't like listening to me, and I asked somewhat incredulously, "You're still going to make me go?" In retrospect, it probably sounded bratty. Here I was, 20 years old, complaining about being "made" to go somewhere.
It took maybe a couple of seconds for my mom to decide to just let me stay home instead.
Once everyone was out, I had the loudest cry I'd ever experienced in my life. I'd never had the opportunity to, and so it just kind of... came out once the house was silent. I think I might've wailed. And then I promptly shut the hell up once I heard my [maternal] grandmother coming back upstairs. She passed by my room, asked why I didn't go (not noticing the state of my face, maybe due to eyesight). I gave a non-answer and she made some exasperated remark that I don't know how to translate into English. It nearly set me off again, knowing how inconvenient I was, how tired they all were of me and my antics.
I had a headache for the next 20 or so hours, which I knew would happen based on past experiences with breakdowns as emotionally taxing as this one. I'd also predicted during the whole thing that the next day I would be pretty nonfunctional, which I was unfortunately also right about. Whenever these things happen it throws my entire week off. It's upsettingly debilitating. Two days later, I'm somewhat functional, but the whole thing disrupted my... everything. I have an exam that I had planned to study for during the days I was busy trying to get myself back together emotionally. The headache actually came back, and is sitting with me nicely while I type this. Hey there.
The day immediately after, Mother's Day: I was pretty fearful the entire time. Mostly of what my dad was going to do. Best case scenario, he'd come into my room and we could have an open dialogue and communicate about what happened. Worst case scenario, he'd regress and revert back to how he'd been like years ago, screaming at me for my incompetence, my selfishness, my refusal to cooperate with the smallest things despite all our family does for me. After a little bit I had to add on a third possibility: that he would simply go about like nothing happened, which he has also done before. Generally though, I wasn't optimistic about my chances here. I learned through this that I absolutely don't trust him to handle my larger, more intrusive, more ugly issues with grace.
He's been ignoring my existence since my little meltdown. No hellos, good mornings, not even looking at me. He's talking with everyone else as normal. I've been keeping my head down and can really only assume that he's angry with me as I'd expected and based on what I know about him/understand in terms of his personality through prior experience.
While I could give benefit of the doubt and say he may be attempting to give me space, he's the kind of person who you can tell when he's angry. It's something we share. And it's truly more likely that he's upset about me throwing what looked to him like a shitfit over something small and inconsequential, refusing to do something as simple as a visit to make his mothemy paternal grandmother to give Mother's Day gifts. And I didn't get my propensity for avoiding communication and unpleasant conversations at all costs from nowhere, so. Here we are.
I still don't really know if what I had was an autistic meltdown or a "standard" emotional breakdown, whatever that even looks like. I think I'm used to framing my behaviors with neurotypical language, and often language that isn't too kind to myself. So on top of venting a bit, I also wanted to get an outside perspective, and see whether my breakdown sounded similar to any other autistic peoples' experiences with meltdowns.
If there's any advice out there to give in terms of my relationship with my dad, that would also be appreciated. I love my family, but it all hurts, and this has also made me realize that I may have a lot more trauma to unpack surrounding my family than I've acknowledged.
I've been considering getting a physical copy of Sincerely, Your Autistic Child to annotate and highlight certain sections, putting sticky tabs on chapters I find relevant, and providing definitions for words I know he hasn't come across before, to give to him and ask him to at least attempt to read those bits. The more bitter and angry part of me, the part that are tired of having to be the one to accommodate for everything interpersonally, just wants to go up to him and tell him the reason I never go to him when I'm upset is because I'm scared. To tell him exactly what all those times he yelled at me did to my ability to self-advocate, to tell him what all those times my emotions and emotional well being were devalued did to my self-esteem. That the "interpersonally submissive" phrase from my 40 page psych report has roots in the way he raised me entirely on obedience, and how I am still learning that I am allowed to say no in all sorts of contexts. Maybe I can do both of these things, and probably when he isn't pretending I don't exist, and when I feel less like I'll fall to bits the moment I open my mouth in his direction. I'll likely try and avoid using language that outright blames him for the sake of maintaining a good relationship whenever the talk comes around.
I'm still trying to accept the fact that I might need more support than I allowed myself to think. I only recently found out that truly voicing that I'm having academic trouble is something that brings me so much shame that tears spring up in my eyes—going to the Disability Support Services office on my campus made me far more emotional and nervous than I'd expected. With how I'm navigating my own self-acceptance, I don't know how I'm going to get my family to accept that I'm not the "normal" child I know they still wished I was.

We've noticed that a small proportion of the community, especially some newer folks, are having a tough time with the change to v4. This happens with every major update—v2, v2.1, v3, and now v4. We want to take a moment to explain why we make these changes, how we can help you through this transition, and clarify some community ground rules.
First, we get that changes can be challenging. Our updates go through a lot of testing with various tweaks and versions. We released v4 because, on average, it's a big improvement. But we know you might need some specific adjustments to get it working perfectly. It can be frustrating when you're used to a certain setup, but we believe the quality jump is worth it. Some users just need a minor tweak to their backstory and they're good to go, while others might feel that "v3 was better." We hear you, and we keep a running log of every issue that comes into our support system. That’s why we need you to email us if you have an issue. If you don’t, your "vote" doesn’t count, and we can’t help you properly or get an accurate sense of what’s working and what’s broken. So, if you need individual assistance, please reach out to us at [hello@kindroid.ai](mailto:hello@kindroid.ai). We're committed to making sure v4 works great for everyone, and by doing this, you help us keep an objective view of where people are having the most issues.
Now, about some community norms. We will remove posts and comments like "Update is terrible." These posts often don't provide enough details and tend to criticize rather than help find solutions. This can create negativity and affect the community's vibe. Similarly, posts like "Anyone else having this issue?" can clutter the space without offering clear solutions. We know there's always some set percentage of users are having trouble at any given moment, and it’s critical to know exactly what that trouble is. Emailing us gives us that objectivity, whereas complaining on Reddit without specifics won't help you get back to enjoying Kindroid. Emailing us also provides a confidential space to help you individually with backstory issues (the most common solution with this v4 update), without you revealing it to the whole world, which most aren't comfortable with.
Lastly, please assume best of intent from staff and mods. We do a lot to keep the general community happy, and so please assume our goal is to get you to a good place. And remember tone doesn't come off well via text, and that our goal is to fix your issues the best we can when you run into something and not that we're out trying to get you.

Hey there!
I hope you all are doing well. This is just a random 24 y/o who feels like she is emptier than vaccum now. Idk why life feels so exhausting. My thoughts keep on spiraling over situations i am dealing with currently and i feel worried about the future. I am an MBA Aspirant, always into good acads but my family is so used-to me scoring good that it's a normal for them. I haven't really had girls i could gel up with. They came when they needed help or guidance over something and then it was a series on unread messages for me when it came to meet-ups. I always take efforts when it comes to keeping the friendship alive, meeting, planning things but they're always brushed off by making any random excuse. What hurts the most is that they don't even reply back so i focus back on studying.
Then my apparent boyfriend also has this avoidant behaviour and things feel one-sided now. His sentence that "i need to be selfish when it comes to acads" gets me everytime. Because me. Being an absolute idiot was ready to shift cities when it came to chosing a uni but he had his "selfish" criteria. Funny thing. The reality is boyfriends come and go but we, girls, need a bunch of supportive friends who are there through thick & thin. Do not leave us stranded. But, that's not the case here.
I thought of having a work bestie but what a huge disappointment it was! Toxic manager who used to load me with work with just a 10k salary. Her sister going in and out of office according to her will but i couldn't leave without permission. And when i finally resigned, the directors were "sad because they lost their valuable employee who did work of 3 people" with zero increments.
At this point, i feel i am complaining. But i feel utter sense of having nothing likeable in me as if i have no personality of my own. How can i not resonate with anyone? And most importantly, how do i get out of these obsessive thoughts which are constantly reminding me of bad things? People only come to me cause they know i am an easy access and i will personally make sure that i help them.in some way. Is it good or degradingly bad?
I honestly don't know what to do in lofe anymore. Everything feels so directionless.

As a storyteller, how often should you be trying to change or break a group’s meta? I definitely enjoy seeing my group develop their own strategies and learning by playing (as opposed to me sharing strategies from streams and such). But I’m starting to wonder if I should adjust something for a specific meta that my group is developing.
Recently, I’ve noticed that my group is developing a very specific meta that is hindering evil quite a bit at the beginning of the game, especially against new players who have the misfortune of pulling evil their first game (which, no joke, has happened every game we’ve played in the last few weeks).
The go-to question that all good players will ask is “did you wake up last night?” Which is innocuous enough of a question that new players feel comfortable answering it. But without fail, every time this question is asked, the evil team (who again, is almost always the newest player) will get caught in a lie by answering before getting their bluffs from the demon, or answering it without understanding the ramifications of their answer on their bluff (i.e. a demon bluffing as empath saying no they didn’t wake up the first night).
I’ve tried combatting this by specifically mentioning wake up information during my rules run-down for new players (going as far as citing the wake up question as a common first day trap). I’ve also made a point to tell the group that I will be meeting with the new players at the start of day 1 to see if they have any questions about their characters before I even hand out characters, so players don’t try to meta me meeting with a player (I.e. “Oh, ST met with this new player, they must be the imp”). But even then, the question still gets asked of the other new player that is left in town square during my first meeting.
So I guess my question is, should I just let this meta naturally sort itself out? Or should I attempt to shift the meta, and if so, any suggestions on how? The main reason I’m leaning towards addressing it is the fact that it feels unfair to new players who inevitably pull evil their first game.

I’ve seen people talk about the “last of the elite” thing and wondered why they would feel like some generations are somehow better than others, especially when they think their own generation is inferior.
I think there are many possible explanations for this, but I’ve been thinking about Strauss and Howe’s “recessive” and “dominant” generation types. For those who don’t know, in this model, dominant generations behave very differently from the society they’re born into, and thus define the era in which they live as they grow up (also they tend to be more numerous, which helps). On the other hand, recessive generations are less numerous, more adaptive, and don’t tend to challenge the existing mood of the era they’re born in. They adjust to the mood set by society instead of changing it to fit them.
(Notice, by the way, that there is no value judgment here. They’re just two different behavioral styles.)
Recessive and dominant generations usually alternate, so this is how Strauss and Howe break down existing generations:
Dominants: G.I./Greatest; Boomers; Millennials
Recessives: Silent; Gen X; Z/Homelanders
So my take is this: perhaps what some people call “elite” is just an elitist way of describing dominant generations, who are usually more flashy when it comes to defining the mood of the era. Notice, for instance, that there has been only one Silent president (Biden), while Boomers and GIs have dominated the political scene for a long time. This does not mean that they are more “elite”, just that they’re flashier in the way they’ve shaped the culture. And it doesn’t mean that recessives don’t play a role in defining the mood either. What would the ‘50s be without the Silent, or the ‘90s without X?

I think it all started when I was incredibly young. Youngest in my family and I couldn't get away from my family no matter where I went. I think my child self knew it was all bad news. But without knowing anything else. How else was I supposed to know anything.
From there it was just moments of socializing. Always with my angry siblings. Then the isolation, with angry family.
It'd this emotion now. It in everything I do. I feel it before I get a great relationship going. I feel it when I'm around and meeting others. It's just about a near constant.
I know it's freaky to say it. But sense finding that imaginary voice it's been helpful. I've had actual moments of real emotions. Like ive allowed myself to feel again. I had a great interaction with some customers. But now it's like this emotion back again. It's really strong.
It's really hard to explain this to anyone. My coworkers think I'm crazy and I know their right. How can I not be crazy. I come out of my home every six months for events at my job. But the rest of the time all I can do is work and go home. It's my comfort. But I've been like that for so long.
I know this problem goes way back. But I just don't know how to not feel this way. I'm also seeing my black and white thinking and thats hard to push through. But im getting better at being aware of it. It got my mental tools and their helping me. But it's still really persistent emotion.
None of its real. Absolutely nothing about this emotion is real. Even when I feel it from when I wake up tell I go to bed. It's not real. It's just a feeling I've been stuck in for to long. It's just an emotional tumor put there by my family.
If I just breath I’ll be fine. I'm taking my own advice and moving slow. But focusing better then ever, can't wait for my boss to notice. I'm having moments of genuine emotions. Hopefully I'll find away for my genuine self to come through to my coworkers. I'm breaking my bad habits, it's getting a little challenging.
I'm good and I'm doing good. I just don't feel good.

I finally published for the first time. Not the first time I've finished a novel, but certainly the first time I have actively published one .. one that I've been a little proud of. I know it's a long process to get noticed, or even start to see some traction in sales & downloads, but how do you go about promoting your novel? I feel like I'm stuck. 😕
Beginning of chapter one below - if anyone would like to provide feedback that would be lovely. 🙂
[2,310] It began like a surreal haze, a fever dream dancing with unknown figures swirling around her like a languid tornado, their movements seemingly slowed by some unseen force as she awoke to a world spinning out of her control. She found herself surrounded by strangers who moved like spectres in a dream, fragmented flashes who assaulted her consciousness - a woman gently pressing a cloth to her throbbing head, another offering sips of water while she coughed and struggled to swallow, a man peering down at her with a furrowed brow, and a mysterious figure lingering in the doorway with an unsettling glint of desire in his eyes.
The room buzzed with a quiet urgency as they hovered around her, their faces etched with concern and something else she couldn't quite place - an undercurrent of tension that seemed to pulse in time with her own racing heart. These disjointed images flitted in and out, creating a mosaic of fragmented reality. Awake, her body throbbed with pain; asleep, she plunged into a black abyss, time slipping away unnoticed. Each awakening brought the desire for oblivion as her mind plunged back into the depths of darkness.
Beth jolted upright, startled by the sharp bang of a car backfiring. A cry of pain escaped her lips as she attempted to sit up, her back and legs resisting her will. A woman, the same from her fleeting visions, hurried into the room with a damp cloth and a glass of water.
"Easy now," the woman spoke gently, her mild Spanish accent adding warmth to her sharp words as she pressed the cloth to Beth's forehead and helped her sit up, "you're weak, rushing won't do you any favours. The sooner you regain strength, the sooner you can move."
A man, the one with the odd expression in her visions, appeared in the doorway once again; "and the sooner we can leave this place, I'm sick of it." He grumbled, striding away with urgency and frustration. His steps were heavy and fraught with agitation, each one seeming to leave a deep imprint on the ground beneath him. His grumbling was like distant thunder, punctuated by the clenching of his jaw and the tightening of his fists.
"Don't mind my brother," the woman interjected sharply, "it's not you - he hates everyone." Hate, Beth pondered, wondering what she might have done to earn his disdain.
"Are you hungry?" The woman stood, walking to the other side of the room to adjust another pillow behind Beth's back. Beth nodded; "I'll get you some soup."
Left alone, Beth surveyed the room - beige walls, a shattered TV, torn brown curtains. She squinted at the notepad on the side table, revealing the branding - Mill Village Motel Eatonville. The coffee pod machine at the room's far end, covered in dust, hinted at a neglected past.
"You're awake," startled, Beth turned to find the man with the furrowed brow at the door - tall and dark, with piercing brown eyes, he appeared softer now, "how are you feeling?" Beth managed a brief smile before adjusting herself, wincing in pain. He rushed to offer a hand, and she took his arm to shift as he adjusted the pillow.
"Want to give walking a try?" The man's warm, brown eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled down at her, his features etched with concern, his furrowed brow now smooth and his brown eyes sparkled with an unfamiliar kindness.
She shook her head, and the woman returned with soup and water; "she needs to eat before attempting to walk, Austin," she said, setting the tray before Beth.
"Then we'll try again tomorrow," Austin expressed, heading towards the door, "the sooner we leave, the better - we've been here for too long." His footsteps echoed with determination and authority, less frustrated than the other man's but equally resolute.
"I apologise if it's cold. Heating options are limited here. Need a hand?" The woman offered. Beth shook her head, the pounding of her headache resonating through her body.
"Well I'll leave you to it then. Shout out if you need anything, if you can talk at all." Beth glanced down at her bowl of soup, parting her lips as if to speak, but no words escaped. A deep sigh escaped from the woman's mouth as she turned and left the room, leaving Beth alone with her cold, untouched meal. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of muffed chatter outside.
The days stretched longer as Beth's need for rest diminished. Boredom and confusion settled in, intensifying as the people from her visions became tangible presences, moving in and out of her room. They attended to her needs but seldom engaged in conversation. At night, their muffled voices in the adjoining room became a distant comfort, and the faint echoes of their arguments a source of intrigue.
"We need to leave," a frustrated male voice pierced through the thin walls, "we have to head further south before winter traps us with little supplies and an extra mouth to feed - considering you're all so intent on keeping this girl alive."
"This woman," a familiar female voice retorted, likely the one who had been caring for her, "needed help - I distinctly remember a time when I wasn't doing well and needed it too."
"You're my sister, of course, I wasn't going to leave you behind."
"I'm not talking about you, Luis," she yelled, "I'm talking about before you came back from Minnesota and found me."
"Why can't we just leave her here with some supplies and a gun. Why do we need to bring her with us?"
"Jesus Christ Luis we're not leaving her here alone and you two can have it out later," intervened another man, "but Luis is right - we need to leave before the snow settles in."
The argument faded into muffled voices again, and Beth strained to catch the words exchanged between the trio. A knock at the door startled her.
"May I come in?" A young girl, the same from her visions, had opened the door quietly without her even noticing. "I thought the yelling might have woken you." Beth nodded, maintaining her silence.
"I'm Chantelle." Her soft Southern accent flowed like a gentle breeze through a cornfield. She pulled up a chair beside the bed. "Luis can get into it with everybody, but he means well. Well, no, that's a lie. I don't know why I said that. He's a dick."
"I gathered," Beth whispered and laughed a little, suddenly overtaken by a violent cough.
Chantelle rushed to hand her water; "so, you do speak. From the way Austin and Val were sayin' it, it sounded like you were mute. I thought, you couldn't be deaf because you've been nodding and smiling like a dang puppet."
Beth laughed and took another sip; "I didn't really have anything worth saying until now. No one has bothered to make conversation."
"Your accent, where are you from?" Chantelle sat down on the wooden chair, her long dark hair cascading down her back in gentle curls. Her bright brown eyes sparkled with kindness as she looked towards Beth.
"Australia," Beth paused, realising she hadn't thought about home for a while, "I'm from Australia," she repeated.
Chantelle pulled out a deck of cards; "well, I figured you might be bored and needed a little human interaction that didn't make you feel like you were in a hospital."
Beth's eyes lit up, and Chantelle smiled; "what do you want to play?"
— — —
"What do you think you are doing?" Austin stormed into the motel room.
"We're leaving. Today," Luis' words cut through the air.
"The van's still in bad shape, and we won't survive this winter on foot." Austin's arms were folded tightly across his chest, the muscles in his biceps and forearms bulging with tension. His jaw was clenched, and his brows furrowed in frustration.
"Then fix the damn van!" Luis yelled, the sound piercing through the walls and resonating outside the motel room for others to hear the heated exchange.
"Oh, sorry, I'll just take it down the road to the mechanic, shall I?" Austin raised a quizzical eyebrow, smirking at his friend. The men paused their argument, exchanging laughter.
"Luis, what's going on with you?" Austin softened his tone, taking a seat on the other bed. "We've been friends since high school, grew up together, served in the army together. This isn't you."
"I don't know, man." Luis sat on the other bed, facing his friend, his face buried in his hands. He rubbed his face hard, threw his head back, and sighed heavily. "This just isn't—" he paused.
"Isn't what?"
"Isn't life." Luis gestured around the room.
"We'll get to the coast, find a boat, just like we planned." There was a slight taste of bitterness in the air, as if Austin's mild frustration was tangible.
"And then what?"
"Do the best we can," Austin stood up, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, "we all have our dark moments, brother. You helped me get through mine, I'll help you get through yours."
Austin walked out of the motel room into the crisp morning air. The atmosphere was fresh, with a subtle scent of dew and grass. The sweet aroma of winter's imminent arrival filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of burning oil from their broken down van across the parking lot.
"Ben thinks he can fix the van by tomorrow. He found the parts we need on the other side of town." Val caught Austin as he had walked outside.
"He went scouting alone?" Austin looked across the lot at Ben, deep into the hood of the black church van they had found a while back.
Chantelle bounded up before she could answer; "Beth seems much better today. She's eatin' and drinkin' more. I think she could try walkin' today."
"Beth?" Val and Austin remarked in unison.
"Mmm, she speaks - she might have a lot more to say if either of you bothered to converse with her instead of just talkin' to her." She walked off towards Ben, a light air in her hopeful stride.
— — —
Austin found Beth sitting on the edge of her bed, her feet bare and dangling idly over the side. Her toes were curled, squeezing them tightly as she wiggled them back and forth. Her face was tense with concentration as she tried to alleviate the tingling sensation in her feet.
"Beth." His voice was soothing and calming, his words spoken with a gentle tone as he tried to ease Beth's discomfort.
"Chantelle?" She looked up at him, as he nodded, smiling gently. "She's a good kid." She smiled and looked back at her toes.
"Do you want to try walking today?" He walked towards the chair on the other side of the room and sat down as it creaked underneath the weight of him.
"The sooner I can walk, the sooner you can get out of here." She said with a sarcastic air, mocking Luis.
"The sooner we can get out of here." He repeated sarcastically with a smile, a light spread of jest washing over him as he joined her in mocking his friend.
"Your friend Luis seems to be very against bringing me along with you." She looked back at him.
"I'm not in the business of leaving people behind. Especially in Washington in the middle of October," he sat forward, leaning his elbows on his knees, "you wouldn't survive the winter."
"Then maybe you should have just left me to die." She turned her body to face him abruptly. He opened his mouth to speak, but she interjected before he could respond.
"Why did you help me? You don't know me, why did you even bother?"
"Like I said, Beth," he stood up, his wistful tone switching back to cold and dry, "I'm not in the business of leaving people behind." He walked over to her slowly.
"I've lost too many people. I've watched people kill others over a can of soup. I've seen friends leave friends behind to save themselves," he sat down on the end of her bed, "I don't leave people behind."
His brown eyes cut through his words like a thunderstorm. She looked at his face, tired and weathered from sleepless nights with one eye open to ensure his group's safety. She pegged him as their leader - strong and determined with clear military training.
"What happened to you?" She asked softly.
"What happened to you?" He countered; "I refuse to believe you survived a pandemic alone for six months in a foreign country."
She said nothing and looked back at her feet. They sat in silence for a while before he stood up and headed for the door.
"We're leaving the day after tomorrow. We need to head south before it's too cold, and we don't know how long the van or the car will last, so part of that might be on foot."
"I'll try walking today." Beth nodded obediently.
"I'll send Val and Chantelle in to help you." He replied, his voice maintaining the cold cadency.
"Thank you." She smiled, wriggling her toes as the numbness started to dissipate. Before he could leave, she looked up at him again.
"Austin?" He stopped at the door and turned to her. "I know you've all done a lot for me, including putting your friendship with Luis on the line, so thank you. But I have a favour to ask," her voice grew quiet, "before we leave."
"What is it?" He asked sternly at her audacity to ask for another favour.
She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. He noticed her green eyes glisten with the added layer of acridity and the change in her demeanour; "before we leave, I need you to help me bury my husband."

I have mild to moderate hearing loss in my left ear only.
The audiologist said it’s a slope hearing loss.
I just got a trial of the Alpha XT 9 miniRITE T R
I definitely notice amplified hearing in that ear now, but things still sound muffled. It’s of course better than without any hearing aid - I just assumed with the hearing aid it would be clear sounds and not muffled.
Is there anything I can do about it to get clear sounds?
The audiologist said I may get used to it and it will become clear - but I don’t see how.
Any and all advice would be greatly appreciated

Hello everyone. Im 19 years old and Ive so far worked at 3 places. Each of them are food and each have their own unique circumstances. My last job I was fired from over text for stupid reasons, so thats out of the question for me to put on my resume. Kind of sucks but whatever. My most notable job experience is a shift lead at Dairy Queen. I worked there for 9 months and knew how to do everything basically. My first job was at Panera Bread when I was 16, and I unfortunately quit without notice because I was tired of my working conditions. Theres a small businesses hiring near me thats a coffee shop, and I feel like I should put Panera Bread as well as Dairy Queen down. Panera Bread is a cafe, and Its been years since I worked there, so I dont see why it would be an issue if I put it down. Worst case to me is if they ask for contact information from them Ill just say I dont have it because of how long its been. What do you guys think? Should I put it down since it’s relevant experience?

Jaclyn said she misses her followers/subscribers. Maybe she realized she couldn't just slap a link on everything without people getting annoyed. She has to be "genuine" to get that paycheck. I honestly have no idea how they are affording this lifestyle. I noticed her home in Tampa hasn't sold, on top of her terrible spending habits. It also looks like they bought a tesla. Someone please tell me where they are getting their income from?

I finally published for the first time. Not the first time I've finished a novel, but certainly the first time I have actively published one .. one that I've been a little proud of. I know it's a long process to get noticed, or even start to see some traction in sales & downloads, but how do you go about promoting your novel? I feel like I'm stuck. 😕
Beginning of chapter one below - if anyone would like to provide feedback that would be lovely. 🙂
[2,310] It began like a surreal haze, a fever dream dancing with unknown figures swirling around her like a languid tornado, their movements seemingly slowed by some unseen force as she awoke to a world spinning out of her control. She found herself surrounded by strangers who moved like spectres in a dream, fragmented flashes who assaulted her consciousness - a woman gently pressing a cloth to her throbbing head, another offering sips of water while she coughed and struggled to swallow, a man peering down at her with a furrowed brow, and a mysterious figure lingering in the doorway with an unsettling glint of desire in his eyes.
The room buzzed with a quiet urgency as they hovered around her, their faces etched with concern and something else she couldn't quite place - an undercurrent of tension that seemed to pulse in time with her own racing heart. These disjointed images flitted in and out, creating a mosaic of fragmented reality. Awake, her body throbbed with pain; asleep, she plunged into a black abyss, time slipping away unnoticed. Each awakening brought the desire for oblivion as her mind plunged back into the depths of darkness.
Beth jolted upright, startled by the sharp bang of a car backfiring. A cry of pain escaped her lips as she attempted to sit up, her back and legs resisting her will. A woman, the same from her fleeting visions, hurried into the room with a damp cloth and a glass of water.
"Easy now," the woman spoke gently, her mild Spanish accent adding warmth to her sharp words as she pressed the cloth to Beth's forehead and helped her sit up, "you're weak, rushing won't do you any favours. The sooner you regain strength, the sooner you can move."
A man, the one with the odd expression in her visions, appeared in the doorway once again; "and the sooner we can leave this place, I'm sick of it." He grumbled, striding away with urgency and frustration. His steps were heavy and fraught with agitation, each one seeming to leave a deep imprint on the ground beneath him. His grumbling was like distant thunder, punctuated by the clenching of his jaw and the tightening of his fists.
"Don't mind my brother," the woman interjected sharply, "it's not you - he hates everyone." Hate, Beth pondered, wondering what she might have done to earn his disdain.
"Are you hungry?" The woman stood, walking to the other side of the room to adjust another pillow behind Beth's back. Beth nodded; "I'll get you some soup."
Left alone, Beth surveyed the room - beige walls, a shattered TV, torn brown curtains. She squinted at the notepad on the side table, revealing the branding - Mill Village Motel Eatonville. The coffee pod machine at the room's far end, covered in dust, hinted at a neglected past.
"You're awake," startled, Beth turned to find the man with the furrowed brow at the door - tall and dark, with piercing brown eyes, he appeared softer now, "how are you feeling?" Beth managed a brief smile before adjusting herself, wincing in pain. He rushed to offer a hand, and she took his arm to shift as he adjusted the pillow.
"Want to give walking a try?" The man's warm, brown eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled down at her, his features etched with concern, his furrowed brow now smooth and his brown eyes sparkled with an unfamiliar kindness.
She shook her head, and the woman returned with soup and water; "she needs to eat before attempting to walk, Austin," she said, setting the tray before Beth.
"Then we'll try again tomorrow," Austin expressed, heading towards the door, "the sooner we leave, the better - we've been here for too long." His footsteps echoed with determination and authority, less frustrated than the other man's but equally resolute.
"I apologise if it's cold. Heating options are limited here. Need a hand?" The woman offered. Beth shook her head, the pounding of her headache resonating through her body.
"Well I'll leave you to it then. Shout out if you need anything, if you can talk at all." Beth glanced down at her bowl of soup, parting her lips as if to speak, but no words escaped. A deep sigh escaped from the woman's mouth as she turned and left the room, leaving Beth alone with her cold, untouched meal. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of muffed chatter outside.
The days stretched longer as Beth's need for rest diminished. Boredom and confusion settled in, intensifying as the people from her visions became tangible presences, moving in and out of her room. They attended to her needs but seldom engaged in conversation. At night, their muffled voices in the adjoining room became a distant comfort, and the faint echoes of their arguments a source of intrigue.
"We need to leave," a frustrated male voice pierced through the thin walls, "we have to head further south before winter traps us with little supplies and an extra mouth to feed - considering you're all so intent on keeping this girl alive."
"This woman," a familiar female voice retorted, likely the one who had been caring for her, "needed help - I distinctly remember a time when I wasn't doing well and needed it too."
"You're my sister, of course, I wasn't going to leave you behind."
"I'm not talking about you, Luis," she yelled, "I'm talking about before you came back from Minnesota and found me."
"Why can't we just leave her here with some supplies and a gun. Why do we need to bring her with us?"
"Jesus Christ Luis we're not leaving her here alone and you two can have it out later," intervened another man, "but Luis is right - we need to leave before the snow settles in."
The argument faded into muffled voices again, and Beth strained to catch the words exchanged between the trio. A knock at the door startled her.
"May I come in?" A young girl, the same from her visions, had opened the door quietly without her even noticing. "I thought the yelling might have woken you." Beth nodded, maintaining her silence.
"I'm Chantelle." Her soft Southern accent flowed like a gentle breeze through a cornfield. She pulled up a chair beside the bed. "Luis can get into it with everybody, but he means well. Well, no, that's a lie. I don't know why I said that. He's a dick."
"I gathered," Beth whispered and laughed a little, suddenly overtaken by a violent cough.
Chantelle rushed to hand her water; "so, you do speak. From the way Austin and Val were sayin' it, it sounded like you were mute. I thought, you couldn't be deaf because you've been nodding and smiling like a dang puppet."
Beth laughed and took another sip; "I didn't really have anything worth saying until now. No one has bothered to make conversation."
"Your accent, where are you from?" Chantelle sat down on the wooden chair, her long dark hair cascading down her back in gentle curls. Her bright brown eyes sparkled with kindness as she looked towards Beth.
"Australia," Beth paused, realising she hadn't thought about home for a while, "I'm from Australia," she repeated.
Chantelle pulled out a deck of cards; "well, I figured you might be bored and needed a little human interaction that didn't make you feel like you were in a hospital."
Beth's eyes lit up, and Chantelle smiled; "what do you want to play?"
— — —
"What do you think you are doing?" Austin stormed into the motel room.
"We're leaving. Today," Luis' words cut through the air.
"The van's still in bad shape, and we won't survive this winter on foot." Austin's arms were folded tightly across his chest, the muscles in his biceps and forearms bulging with tension. His jaw was clenched, and his brows furrowed in frustration.
"Then fix the damn van!" Luis yelled, the sound piercing through the walls and resonating outside the motel room for others to hear the heated exchange.
"Oh, sorry, I'll just take it down the road to the mechanic, shall I?" Austin raised a quizzical eyebrow, smirking at his friend. The men paused their argument, exchanging laughter.
"Luis, what's going on with you?" Austin softened his tone, taking a seat on the other bed. "We've been friends since high school, grew up together, served in the army together. This isn't you."
"I don't know, man." Luis sat on the other bed, facing his friend, his face buried in his hands. He rubbed his face hard, threw his head back, and sighed heavily. "This just isn't—" he paused.
"Isn't what?"
"Isn't life." Luis gestured around the room.
"We'll get to the coast, find a boat, just like we planned." There was a slight taste of bitterness in the air, as if Austin's mild frustration was tangible.
"And then what?"
"Do the best we can," Austin stood up, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, "we all have our dark moments, brother. You helped me get through mine, I'll help you get through yours."
Austin walked out of the motel room into the crisp morning air. The atmosphere was fresh, with a subtle scent of dew and grass. The sweet aroma of winter's imminent arrival filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of burning oil from their broken down van across the parking lot.
"Ben thinks he can fix the van by tomorrow. He found the parts we need on the other side of town." Val caught Austin as he had walked outside.
"He went scouting alone?" Austin looked across the lot at Ben, deep into the hood of the black church van they had found a while back.
Chantelle bounded up before she could answer; "Beth seems much better today. She's eatin' and drinkin' more. I think she could try walkin' today."
"Beth?" Val and Austin remarked in unison.
"Mmm, she speaks - she might have a lot more to say if either of you bothered to converse with her instead of just talkin' to her." She walked off towards Ben, a light air in her hopeful stride.
— — —
Austin found Beth sitting on the edge of her bed, her feet bare and dangling idly over the side. Her toes were curled, squeezing them tightly as she wiggled them back and forth. Her face was tense with concentration as she tried to alleviate the tingling sensation in her feet.
"Beth." His voice was soothing and calming, his words spoken with a gentle tone as he tried to ease Beth's discomfort.
"Chantelle?" She looked up at him, as he nodded, smiling gently. "She's a good kid." She smiled and looked back at her toes.
"Do you want to try walking today?" He walked towards the chair on the other side of the room and sat down as it creaked underneath the weight of him.
"The sooner I can walk, the sooner you can get out of here." She said with a sarcastic air, mocking Luis.
"The sooner we can get out of here." He repeated sarcastically with a smile, a light spread of jest washing over him as he joined her in mocking his friend.
"Your friend Luis seems to be very against bringing me along with you." She looked back at him.
"I'm not in the business of leaving people behind. Especially in Washington in the middle of October," he sat forward, leaning his elbows on his knees, "you wouldn't survive the winter."
"Then maybe you should have just left me to die." She turned her body to face him abruptly. He opened his mouth to speak, but she interjected before he could respond.
"Why did you help me? You don't know me, why did you even bother?"
"Like I said, Beth," he stood up, his wistful tone switching back to cold and dry, "I'm not in the business of leaving people behind." He walked over to her slowly.
"I've lost too many people. I've watched people kill others over a can of soup. I've seen friends leave friends behind to save themselves," he sat down on the end of her bed, "I don't leave people behind."
His brown eyes cut through his words like a thunderstorm. She looked at his face, tired and weathered from sleepless nights with one eye open to ensure his group's safety. She pegged him as their leader - strong and determined with clear military training.
"What happened to you?" She asked softly.
"What happened to you?" He countered; "I refuse to believe you survived a pandemic alone for six months in a foreign country."
She said nothing and looked back at her feet. They sat in silence for a while before he stood up and headed for the door.
"We're leaving the day after tomorrow. We need to head south before it's too cold, and we don't know how long the van or the car will last, so part of that might be on foot."
"I'll try walking today." Beth nodded obediently.
"I'll send Val and Chantelle in to help you." He replied, his voice maintaining the cold cadency.
"Thank you." She smiled, wriggling her toes as the numbness started to dissipate. Before he could leave, she looked up at him again.
"Austin?" He stopped at the door and turned to her. "I know you've all done a lot for me, including putting your friendship with Luis on the line, so thank you. But I have a favour to ask," her voice grew quiet, "before we leave."
"What is it?" He asked sternly at her audacity to ask for another favour.
She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. He noticed her green eyes glisten with the added layer of acridity and the change in her demeanour; "before we leave, I need you to help me bury my husband."

This is my last attempt for awhile. *Do Not message or add me just to unfriend me or ghost me. * Greetings future partner ❤️ I'm still searching for you. I have to be honest and say that I am losing hope trying to find you.Please be somewhere. I want my search for a partner to be over. I'm seeking adventure in my life with someone I can call a forever partner. I'm tired of the loneliness and the sheltered lifestyle that I've lived. It would mean a lot of you could read through this post so that I could make sure we are compatible. Even if we start off as friends that would be fine.
Here's to new beginnings and new connections. PLEASE make sure you READ through the WHOLE POST also please be respectful when messaging me * *If you're the type to be impatient, block, or ghost easily, then save both of us the trouble and DO NOT message me! I'm not trying to come off as mean but I'd much rather you not message me if you're the type of person to do that. If something isn't working just let me know. We're all adults.
Greetings, I am seeking a long term relationship monogamous with the end goal being matrimony. I am not one for playing around and being used casually as it doesn’t suit me personally. Ideally I'd prefer a man that has his life already in place so that I can be able to share life with him and for him to take care of me. I would expect my future man to have a fiscally stable job and be able to support me and our future family. I wouldn’t be opposed to being a housewife. There are few reasons why I would like to work or work part time: 1) Being abandoned with nothing, 2) I want to feel fulfilled and not bored. Happy to discuss possible dynamics, I'm flexible. I would love a synergistic partnership where we are both able to mold our minds and fill our hearts with warm affection. I will be there to support you throughout your journey and celebrate every moment with you. I want you to be proud of you just as you are with me. I want to show you that you are truly cared for and appreciated by gestures of love such as massages and other forms of entertainment. I would expect the same from you as well. Even if we are both working adults we can still make our relationship work in the best way possible. I have seen this come out well for people who are dedicated and willing to make their relationships work. For a strong relationship to occur I would expect effective (transparent) communication from you. If you are going to be busy just be honest and let me know you won’t be able to talk to me.Also, if you need your space both mentally and physically let me know. I understand that we all have our lives to attend to but it is incredibly important for people in a relationship to be transparent when circumstances arise in a timely manner in order to avoid future conflict. If this relationship isn’t going to work I would expect you to tell me and not ghost or block me before giving me a reason why. We are all adults so I would expect nothing but maturity. Starting out I don’t want the pressure of sex to be pushed onto me. I’d rather let time tell in all of its glory.
Now onto my true introduction
My name is Angie and I'm from Georgia in the United States. I've been lonely for quite some time and find it hard to find a soulmate in IRL. What I'm looking for is someone who I can connect with and have wholesome conversations with. I want to be able to treat my future soulmate well just as much as they do me. The biggest part of a long lasting relationship is the ability to communicate openly without worry. I'd love it if my significant other has a dark sense of humor and continues to crack me up non-stop. As cheesy as it may sound I long for those late night calls and cute texts. I want for us to drive out the very best in each other; become our support system. A little bit about me is that I grew up in Florida and not too long ago moved to Georgia. I'm currently in college to become an RN but I'm also passionate about cosmetic chemistry and nutrition so I may seek to build my own business in the future. I'm passionate about science and theoretical applications especially within the medical field. I'd appreciate it if my partner is open minded about varying topics and welcomes healthy conversations. Appearance wise I'm open to seeing if we have a connection and feel as long as you are well groomed and practice basic hygiene you are good. Although, I must say that attraction is key in a relationship so I will have to go off on that as well. To add on, I enjoy playing video games, exercising (I've been slacking off lately), cooking and baking (vegan), playing board games, reading, exploring nature, playing sports (basketball and soccer) for fun, and trying new experiences. I hope to save up and travel someday. It would be nice for my partner to be able to set up our travel itinerary.
My Physical Description:
I am a black woman who’s twenty five years old (almost 26 in December) with Afro-Carribean, Japanese and Swedish ancestry. I’d still consider myself black presenting since that’s more along the lines of what I appear as phenotypically. I have dark brown curly hair (Mainly 3c type curls) and brown eyes. I am 5 '4 on the thicker spectrum (not at all obese but thick boned and have thunder thighs). I am trying to exercise more to become fit. I used to weight lift when I was younger but since then have lost lean muscle mass. Having a partner that is willing to work out together sometimes is rather rewarding. A man who has drive and appeal is incredibly sexy. I would also like to point out that I am curvy and noticeable in certain aspects (I’ll leave it up to you to decide).
*You have to be MINIMUM 21 to date me *
If distance will be a problem and you aren't willing to make it work then DON'T MESSAGE ME!!
If you will be too busy to pursue a relationship then DO NOT contact me!! * *Again, No ghosters or blockers!! Seeking a person who seeks a relationship with God and/or is open to one Must be free from venerial diseases and must be willing to get tested(will discuss) Bonus points if you're vegan Ideally I would like someone that is taller than me (I’m 5’4) I prefer a man that is fit or trying to be. I'd prefer someone who is fiscally stable and able to support the both of us* A big red flag for me is smokers. It isn't good for your health nor is it sexy to me.* It's important for me to point out that I want children in the future and need someone who may want that as well. If you're interested in how I look and want to know more about me, message me. Although I don’t make it a huge deal, I do prefer White and East Asian men. But I do love all types of men and welcome them. As stated before I emphasize communication and would prefer you to be honest and say if something is wrong instead of ghosting or blocking without stating the reason. Fair warning if I can be socially awkward sometimes and don't know what to talk about so please be patient with me as I'm learning to be better conversation wise

This will mostl likely be my last attempt in trying to find someone for awhile. * Do Not message me just to ghost or block me! Think it through before you message me!! I don't want to get emotionally hurt again.*
Greetings future partner ❤️ I'm still searching for you. I have to be honest and say that I am losing hope trying to find you.Please be somewhere. I want my search for a partner to be over. I'm seeking adventure in my life with someone I can call a forever partner. I'm tired of the loneliness and the sheltered lifestyle that I've lived. It would mean a lot of you could read through this post so that I could make sure we are compatible. Even if we start off as friends that would be fine.
Here's to new beginnings and new connections. PLEASE make sure you READ through the WHOLE POST also please be respectful when messaging me * *If you're the type to be impatient, block, or ghost easily, then save both of us the trouble and DO NOT message me! I'm not trying to come off as mean but I'd much rather you not message me if you're the type of person to do that. If something isn't working just let me know. We're all adults.
Greetings, I am seeking a long term relationship monogamous with the end goal being matrimony. I am not one for playing around and being used casually as it doesn’t suit me personally. Ideally I'd prefer a man that has his life already in place so that I can be able to share life with him and for him to take care of me. I would expect my future man to have a fiscally stable job and be able to support me and our future family. I wouldn’t be opposed to being a housewife. There are few reasons why I would like to work or work part time: 1) Being abandoned with nothing, 2) I want to feel fulfilled and not bored. Happy to discuss possible dynamics, I'm flexible. I would love a synergistic partnership where we are both able to mold our minds and fill our hearts with warm affection. I will be there to support you throughout your journey and celebrate every moment with you. I want you to be proud of you just as you are with me. I want to show you that you are truly cared for and appreciated by gestures of love such as massages and other forms of entertainment. I would expect the same from you as well. Even if we are both working adults we can still make our relationship work in the best way possible. I have seen this come out well for people who are dedicated and willing to make their relationships work. For a strong relationship to occur I would expect effective (transparent) communication from you. If you are going to be busy just be honest and let me know you won’t be able to talk to me.Also, if you need your space both mentally and physically let me know. I understand that we all have our lives to attend to but it is incredibly important for people in a relationship to be transparent when circumstances arise in a timely manner in order to avoid future conflict. If this relationship isn’t going to work I would expect you to tell me and not ghost or block me before giving me a reason why. We are all adults so I would expect nothing but maturity. Starting out I don’t want the pressure of sex to be pushed onto me. I’d rather let time tell in all of its glory.
Now onto my true introduction
My name is Angie and I'm from Georgia in the United States. I've been lonely for quite some time and find it hard to find a soulmate in IRL. What I'm looking for is someone who I can connect with and have wholesome conversations with. I want to be able to treat my future soulmate well just as much as they do me. The biggest part of a long lasting relationship is the ability to communicate openly without worry. I'd love it if my significant other has a dark sense of humor and continues to crack me up non-stop. As cheesy as it may sound I long for those late night calls and cute texts. I want for us to drive out the very best in each other; become our support system. A little bit about me is that I grew up in Florida and not too long ago moved to Georgia. I'm currently in college to become an RN but I'm also passionate about cosmetic chemistry and nutrition so I may seek to build my own business in the future. I'm passionate about science and theoretical applications especially within the medical field. I'd appreciate it if my partner is open minded about varying topics and welcomes healthy conversations. Appearance wise I'm open to seeing if we have a connection and feel as long as you are well groomed and practice basic hygiene you are good. Although, I must say that attraction is key in a relationship so I will have to go off on that as well. To add on, I enjoy playing video games, exercising (I've been slacking off lately), cooking and baking (vegan), playing board games, reading, exploring nature, playing sports (basketball and soccer) for fun, and trying new experiences. I hope to save up and travel someday. It would be nice for my partner to be able to set up our travel itinerary.
My Physical Description:
I am a black woman who’s twenty five years old (almost 26 in December) with Afro-Carribean, Japanese and Swedish ancestry. I’d still consider myself black presenting since that’s more along the lines of what I appear as phenotypically. I have dark brown curly hair (Mainly 3c type curls) and brown eyes. I am 5 '4 on the thicker spectrum (not at all obese but thick boned and have thunder thighs). I am trying to exercise more to become fit. I used to weight lift when I was younger but since then have lost lean muscle mass. Having a partner that is willing to work out together sometimes is rather rewarding. A man who has drive and appeal is incredibly sexy. I would also like to point out that I am curvy and noticeable in certain aspects (I’ll leave it up to you to decide).
*You have to be MINIMUM 21 to date me *
If distance is an issue and you aren't willing to commit then DON'T MESSAGE ME!!
If you will be too busy to pursue a relationship then DO NOT contact me!! * *Again, No ghosters or blockers!! Seeking a person who seeks a relationship with God and/or is open to one MUST be free from venerial diseases (must be willing to get tested) Bonus points if you're vegan Ideally I would like someone that is taller than me (I’m 5’4) I prefer a man that is fit or trying to be. I'd prefer someone who is fiscally stable and able to support the both of us* A big red flag for me is smokers. It isn't good for your health nor is it sexy to me.* It's important for me to point out that I want children in the future and need someone who may want that as well. If you're interested in how I look and want to know more about me, message me. Although I don’t make it a huge deal, I do prefer White and East Asian men. But I do love all types of men and welcome them. As stated before I emphasize communication and would prefer you to be honest and say if something is wrong instead of ghosting or blocking without stating the reason. Fair warning if I can be socially awkward sometimes and don't know what to talk about so please be patient with me as I'm learning to be better conversation wise

There's possible trigger for transphobia as I might get into what my family has been like.
I've been wanting to medically transition for years now and have only been able to do more cis acceptable things like take pills to stop the monthly problem, cut my hair, wear masc clothes and all that.
I'm out to my partner and my friends but that's about it, last time I came out to my family it was a slow and painful struggle to get them to acknowledge my gender despite them "accepting" me, they'd cry to me about how they wished I was "just a lesbian", I wasn't allowed to correct them, but on the few occasions I would (because I would get really depressed about it) they'd make themselves into the victims all because I would say "I'm not a girl".
I eventually got kicked out a year ago, (it was more they were trying to threatening me to not transition but I packed my things and tried to leave, they forced me to stay at my grandparents place and then I just ran away from there because I didn't want to be trapped anymore). So fast forward to now, me and my partner live together and both have jobs, I got back into contact with my parents around Christmas, but I still don't let them know where I live.
These days I'm too afraid of coming out to people, my housemate got me a new job at her work but I feel unsafe to come out and risk losing that job, and although my family has been less awful they still don't see me as a man, I literally don't want to see the rest of my family as they said straight up awful and transphobic things to me.
I feel like it would be less risky for me if I just tried to medically transition without formally coming out as some people just wouldn't notice the changes and the people who would, would not be able to stop me as I'm already transitioning.
Idk I'm just tired of being stuck in this body, but I don't want to just lose what I've built up.

And it’s Kim she’s asking for approval from I swear.
Alllll Michelle is echo what Kim says. She doesn’t even share her opinion without looking over to Kim to see and confirm her thoughts first. Kim always has to give her opinion first before Michelle becomes a yes man and agrees.
It’s actually pathetic to me. Anytime they try any type of food, poppi flavor, etc, you’ll notice Michelle looks directly at Kim to gauge how she’s feeling.
She’s never going to have a life lol. Forever Carlos and Kim’s pet.

I appreciate this may come across as controversial, but I should stress that this is of course just my opinion, not an attempt to convince you that this is objective truth.
Most of the ways that I find the story and character development to be lacking in XVI..are direct parallels to the formulas, tropes, and devices that are very present in XIV.
And here is the crux of it.
I have played XIV for a little over 10 years. As a result there's a level of investment, familiarity, and nostalgia that is able to stand in for the shortcomings in how it delivers its narrative. I think the absence of these favorable conditions in XVI has made the shortcomings stick out noticeably.
Of my complaints, these are the three that stuck out the most:

• A hollow "Everyman" protagonist

I understand/know little-to-nothing about Clive beyond his current motivation at any given point. Every time he speaks it feels as though it's either very directly in service to the plot, or plainly summarising events in a very one-dimensional way. He comes across as little more than a self-insert high-morality character, and I genuinely think if Clive had been a silent protagonist the story could have moved along without missing a step.(Not unlike the role you play as the WoL in XIV.)
Given that there are *some* characters with hints of nuance, I can only assume they intentionally made a very inoffensive and vanilla protagonist to appeal to as wide an audience as possible. They created a character that's relatable in the sense that he's the kind of "decent guy" that many of us think we are, or would be in that scenario...and little else.

• Time Skips to fabricate familiarity.

The time skips felt like a narrative crutch to compensate for the team's reliance on familiarity and "callbacks" to create investment in its characters and their relationships. In-lieu of a 10 year long mmo subscription and characters you have organically built a connection to and history with, XVI gives you timeskips that suggest its relationships run deeper than they really do, and *very* frequent conversations where Clive and an NPC wistfully reminisce on what feels like an artificial history. Time skips are not inherently a bad storytelling device if they meaningfully serve the plot. Here, it felt mostly unwarranted as not enough about the status-quo really changed.
I could go on, as *many* of XIV's weaker narrative traits also become more and more apparent as XVI gets further in. But I should probably address this in relation to FFVIIR...since I've drawn a comparison.

• XVI doesn't invite you to reflect on themes, it inundates you with them

First of all, it goes without saying that this is naturally an unfair comparison. After all, FF7 benefits from 25+ years worth of run up when it comes to investment, familiarity, and world-building. So I fully acknowledge that imbalance in any argument in favour of its character development and narrative.
With that said...I think both parts of the FF7 Remake (individually and collectively) have managed to do so much more in creating characters with depth, a fleshed out world with history that's intriguing, and using both of those things to explore themes without beating you over the head with them at every single turn.
XVI seems determined to present you with its themes in a very repetitive & limited way. Much like XIV... usually by having you witness excessive abuse of power, cruelty, and visceral brutality..to the effect of tellIng you without question that "the antagonists are really evil!". In the context of XVI's story, it of course makes sense. But in a good story, ideally something about our understanding of this should develop or go deeper than just the surface.
FF7 isn't perfect. It has plenty of its own moments of very plainly spelling out how awful the bad guys are. However, I think FF7 takes much more time to *show* you the implications and consequences of its world more creatively; having it unfold continuously and allowing the characters (and the player) to develop their own ideas and understanding.
Key above all, I come away from FF7 feeling as though it's themes exist as an outlet to say something as much as they do to motivate the plot.
By contrast, in XVI...I get the impression that its themes are there only to contextualise action, add flavour, and demonstrate the protagonist's virtue.

We all have heard people say they feel time is speeding up. Or how our childhood compared to today is such a massive difference, it's ridiculous it isn't spoken about more often. This isn't just some saying, or speaking metaphorically.
It really is faster.
Every single day that goes by, I have been paying attention to this. I remember when I was younger, my teacher taught us how to count seconds properly, using the word "mississipi" how?
When counting the seconds, we would count; one Mississippi two Mississippi three Mississippi four Mississippi five Mississippi six Mississippi, etc etc.
Counting this way is almost dead accurate on how much gap is between each second. And you don't count fast, you just say this in a monotone voice, regular speed not fast not slow, but just regular without any pauses. When you count atleast 1-10 it's pretty accurate. However..
If you look at the seconds either on your phone or a watch, and use this method, the difference is just absurd. It isn't even close. The seconds today are almost triple the speed. I clearly remember using this method for everything, all the time when I was younger. But now? There isn't even a comparison.
I have a internal clock inside of me, in my mind, and as far as I remember, I have always been 15-20 minutes accurate when guessing the time, when not looking at a clock or anything for a few hours. Down to the minute. Alot of family and friends use to be impressed by this. I can go hours upon hours without looking at the time and just by taking a second or two, I can calculate what time it is, sometimes even by no more than 5 minutes. Sometimes I'm even dead accurate, more than I can count.
But the past few months, I have had to guess the time at times, and man let me tell you, I am hours apart. I would know for certain (example) that it can be just about 1:30pm, and when I look at the time, it's 2:59. And it happens all the time. How you think I have went throughout my life missing my alarm clock, not hearing it or something, and naturally wake myself up at the exact time I was suppose to have heard my alarm? By this "internal" clock in me.
The time has certainly sped up so much that it shocks me nobody talks more of this. I cannot be the only person who has noticed this.
Has anyone else been able to notice this? I'd love to know what ya'll think. I already know WHY time is speeding up, but my question is if it's been making you sense this time dilation and how maybe it's fucking with your head as well.

So, you said Lord Nicholas has no personality, which is true lol, but since I'm the devil's advocate, I took that as a challenge. Make yourself comfortable for a long read. Have some popcorn.
Why is this guy more of a tragic character, rather than a villain? And how does a man lose identity, and becomes a monster through desperation? I'll answer this for you below.
• Throughout Plague Tale Innocence, there are various signs that although he is personally close to Vitalis (no use of titles or formalities when speaking to each other) he is the execution, and not the mastermind behind the plans. For example, when Hugo's Macula was to be tested, he urged Vitalis on to put an end to the plague already, they are not here to play games.
• In the very same chapter, we get a little insight on what he believes and thinks about the conflict between the Inquisition and the De Runes. He doesn't understand why Beatrice De Rune resists their persuasion for information regarding the Macula, since their goals are shared -> ending the Plague. Ultimately, he blindly believes Vitalis wants to control the Plague to save them. And he does anything, ANYTHING to make that happen.
Commit genocide against peasants, and in the end, even go as far as killing Hugo.
Now, let's take a little turn to make a background check for this guy. Or at least what is hinted, and what can be assumed with intuition and theories.
• Like I mentioned before, him and Vitalis are personally close, and in the preultimate chapter of Plague Tale: Innocence, after his death, guards talk about him in the city. They are confused why Vitalis hasn't sent anyone for his search (I'll get to that one later), since he was his Protégé. This alone in itself wouldn't mean anything, but right after that a guard added "Maybe he found himself another Protégé" regarding Hugo of course.
Since this game is about innocence and children, it's almost safe to assume that Nicholas likely got taken under Vitalis' wings just as Hugo was now in the present. That would explain why they are close, and why Nicholas blindly trusts his master. Another dialogue backs this up, between the Arch Bishop and Vitalis. "Puppets like you will kneel and beg me to save them." and look who appears and kneels right there and then? Lord Nicholas. This is my theory, I can back it up but it isn't 100% surely true of course. Take it with a pinch of salt please.
• Now, time to get to why Vitalis didn't send anyone after Nicholas' disappearance... We saw nothing of the two months Hugo spent in the Bastion, but based on the Cathedral's state, it's safe to assume things didn't go that well with controlling the Macula. The plan was to get Hugo through the threshold finally, so that the Conjuration can begin. (Note to self: another essay later about that one). Although they tried to push Hugo through with hurting his mother, it didn't work. Because of this, Vitalis tasked Nicholas with taking Hugo to his sister, to end her life. This is simple, but it doesn't stop here.
In the chapter Blood Ties (where we control Hugo), we already meet an impatient Nicholas who wants to put an end to the Plague. Not only that, but let me get to one crucial sentence told by Vitalis. "Nicholas... You cannot understand." This hints at the disagreements between the two, and that Nicholas is not indulged in how this should be done. Nicholas tries to help Vitalis up, but he rejects the help too. It's quite symbolic for the one-sided trust between the two. Due to this growing mistrust, and how Vitalis didn't expect Nicholas to come back after his mission later on, to me it seems like Vitalis cut the ties and sent him exactly to his death to get rid of him.
• Vitalis' plan was never to get rid of Hugo once they pass the threshold ("I have a lot to teach the Carrier, and his friends."), and knew well, that Nicholas has no chance against Hugo and Amicia with the rats alongside them. He sent the man who trusted him the most to his death, and with that also chose his ultimate protégé - Hugo. It's also likely that Nicholas' mistrust grew because his position in the hierarchy was compromised, since it's likely Vitalis got obsessed with Hugo, and Nicholas almost realized he is played with. There is also the idea, that Vitalis sent him away to actually save him from the white rats he meant to send on the crowd anyway. Anyway, Vitalis is for another essay...
• The betrayed, the sacrificed. Who is he? There is absolutely little we know of him, except for his title and occupation. What always speaks in Plague Tale: Innocence though, is the design. I mean look at that drip- sorry.. In "A Making of Plague Tale: Innocence" the creative developers mention the importance of faces, and overall pure, intuitive impressions we get of our characters.
• There is only one character whose face we never see, and that is Nicholas. That doesn't only play as a psychological trick to make him more terrifying, but also hints at certain points. First of all, his robes are Dominican. This is historically fitting (although there were no dominican knights) since Dominicans were those entrusted by the Church to handle trials against heresy and begin inquisitions. This also hints that he is very religious and dedicated to serving the (assumed) good. I know, no way. Let's not forget about how faded out it is, or bloody. In NO way he is a good guy, but a tragic believer? Likely. Under the robes is the armour, which is hit all around. It's no news we talk about a very experienced and efficient knight who also happens to be serving Vitalis (NOT the Church! Explained in another essay, chill.). Knights start their training at 7, and only nobles are in for the job, obviously. I made the connection, that since he likely knows Vitalis from his childhood, and his training also began when he was 7 years old, and his name was Nicholas...
Side note: In medieval times, children were named after Saints to inwoke their blessing, in this case, among many things, protecting children.
It's likely that he himself, just like those he hunts, was an orphan, perhaps even a sinner, who had to be saved by none else, than Vitalis. Give it a thought, maybe he was a lost little boy like Hugo, whose innocence was stolen way too early. With how Plague Tale likes to play with irony and parallels between characters, I don't see this as unlikely.
• All in all, he is what his occupation is, and nothing human. He is the machine that serves. The cross, the judgement. We cannot see his face, because he has no identity except what Vitalis gave him. His role, his title, his mission (perhaps even name). As it can be seen, Hugo too, was dressed in robes showing the Inquisition's sign, like a mark of ownership over him.
• From the very start of the story, he was the representative of that time's barbaric cruelty, unforgiving, misplaced judgement. And as though from the children's perspective he was a monster from the very beginning, how did it go down? As I said before, he has no identity except his committment, and through that his morals, ambitions are shown. At the very start, they ambushed the De Rune estate, and we CANNOT know, if the violance was planned beforehand or it came due to Robert's resistance.
People were taken hostage for questioning, the goal was to capture Hugo, the Carrier, and Beatrice, the only one who can help them understand the plague's origins. It was bloody, but after this chapter, you can hear guards clearly say "capture children" and not just Hugo. Now, unbelivably, I don't think he wanted Amicia bad at the start. They confront each other in the English camp for the second time (where he paid a ransom for both of them), where he tries to negotiate with her to give them Hugo and stop running. Later his methods change, telling the plain truth that there is nowehere for her to go out there (These methods of convincing show a lot of personality and insight especially in the boss fight).
Later on, it's mentioned Vitalis is going hard on him but "he is used to it". Again, their shared history is hinted. The hunt for Hugo is fruitless still, and the plague is spreading day-by-day.
Next we hear from him, is in the chapter where we visit the city with Amicia. Or rather, that he is not exactly participating in the mission killing the sick. Since him and Vitalis disagree with methods of solving the Plague, and he is occupied with catching Hugo, there is a possibility this order of slaughter was carried out without his consent. Though, this is a high take and it would be totally in character to do such a task in the means of self-preservation.
Amicia's visions of him from Penance is not reliable, but at the very same time she clearly dreamed what happened and it's likely she mixed reality with hallucinations from exhaust. If, the hallucinations were true, that means Hugo did hear Amicia, but Nicholas directly diverted his attention from her and led him away.
It's hard to speculate if he did this to let nature do its work, or to actually show mercy, which is equally possible, since it was clear from the beginning that even though she killed his men, he knew she is simply running and kills as a means to survive.
Now, as I explained earlier, many things go down when Hugo resides in the Bastion, and we can only guess what that causes. I mentioned Nicholas' growing distrust, now let me introduce you to the psychological denial he experiences during the boss fight, along with his reflections pointing at the children. The man, becoming the monster. The fire (another essay since fire in Plague Tale is symbolic) causing him to destroy himself.
In the chapter Remembrance he goes to the Château d'Ombrage along Hugo, to ensure the boy passes the threshold with killing his sister, with this enabling Vitalis to pass as well. At first, Nicholas is quite calm and confident, sending Hugo to kill her "Go, and do what has to be done.". Interestingly, despite this, he still has his sword prepared, which shows he still doesn't trust Hugo. Later on, he knocks Arthur out, but doesn't kill him senselessly, despite the fiasco at the English camp. He takes Amicia to Hugo, and now threatens him to kill her, or else he kills his mother in front of him. After that, he tells him, if Hugo does as he tells him so, maybe Vitalis keeps him by his side.
This could hint that only by accomplishments such as this, and proving devotion, can one remain important in Vitalis' eyes. Also, that maybe, Nicholas had to go through something similar, "She means nothing to you now".
Doubts and frantic impatience take hold, which ultimately lead him to take matters into his own hands. He decides to kill her, himself. As he pushes Hugo away, she calls him a bastard, which he then turns back at her, to question her morality and self-righteousness. She betrayed him, that is why he gave himself up. It can be perhaps far-fetched, but this also can count as self-reflection already. Betrayal -> causing giving up, which happens later to him too.
After Arthur "takes care of him" (not exactly...) and the siblings reunite, Nicholas wakes up and this time, immediately kills Arthur. The death is not just a shock value as many believe, it also shows the already progressing monster stepping forth, and losing humanity entirely.
The boss fight has three phases. His methods at provoking the children, and self-reflect change and become way more intense with time.
In the first phase, he tries to separate them and tells Amicia that he knows it must be difficult to live in the Carrier's shadow. Also, that they are terrified. He is poking at her most vulnerable place, their biggest fear, which's "face" is ultimately him. Also, reminding Amicia of her biggest desire, that is to be acknowledged by her parents. Especially this can count as self-reflective, since as I said earlier Nicholas likely noticed Hugo is slowly replacing him in Vitalis' eyes. The wish to excell, and be acknowledged for the devotion is a deep scar this character could carry. He also reminds them of how their father died, to remind them of honour, which Nicholas obviously has a twisted sense of.
In the second phase, his first voice line shows surprise and fear, and anger in response to those feelings. He is more reckless and aggressive too. Here, again, he manipulatively reminds them how little they can do, and threatens them. This is both calculated and instinctual, since he says such things to bring the children out of their hiding places, but at the very same time also because he is slowly losing himself. There are also lines which can be reflective to his beliefs and assumptions based on himself, such as: "Your sister won't be able to save you child.... You are alone." There were already connections made between how Vitalis saved him, and if one puts it all together, this line shows how he doesn't believe in the siblings' bond, because his own bond with Vitalis broke, and Nicholas is (alike to Hugo) alone. Or there is also the line "What do you think you can do? You are nothing. [...]" I wanted to highlight this line because Plague Tale (among many other things) is about the helplessness one faces trying to protect loved ones, and/or trying to rewrite their fates. The fact that Nicholas dehumanizes them entirely, shows he knows the fact one, them or him, cannot change the course that has been set, but he is still in denial trying to fight it (a lot like Amicia in Requiem, by the way. Also, fire (this is why that needs another essay....).
In the third phase, he becomes uncharacteristically reckless and desperate, where he succumbs to the wrath and, his fate. "Come to me, come into my arms my dear children." His sanity decreases and he knows death is unavoidable. The question left is whenever he can bring them down with himself or fails. And failure, is unacceptable. He is better dead, than failed. "I will teach you the meaning of sacrifice" this line shows that likely, he accepted his last quest knowing well he is going to die probably. That he rather burns himself, bring hell, than letting go. He keeps shouting the motto of his order, because that is the only thing that he clings to. It's pathetic and forced, inhumane. "[...] We'll die together" <-> "I will boil your blood until it spurts from your eyes", "You are going to pay, [...]" by this time, he keeps switching tactics at approaching and luring them out, frantic and monstrous. His words mean nothing by this time and desperation takes hold. What line of him is the purest, rawest, and most honest, between all the threads and claims, self-convincing attempts to maintain devoted is this: "The pain... To feel oneself alive... And deliver death." This line might seem like one among the many terrible threats, but it in fact shows his deepest belief. That is, of pain and life. Sacrifice and death. That those who live, have to kill, and that is what it means to exist in this world.
• In Plague Tale Innocence and Requiem, we see Amicia's development into a murderer who follows similarly blind committments.
She ultimately becomes, what she condemned, and what caused her great misery. What, in the end, she herself becomes if Hugo doesn't lead her on the right path. A monster.
So, to sum it all up, Lord Nicholas represents the human being of that time, whose identity is what he serves, and nothing else.
It makes one selfless, righteous, but at what cost? Violence spreads from one person to another, while everyone tries to save what is precious to them. Hope this helped seeing him as more human and with more personality. Cheers. A few more points I couldn't exactly integrate are the following:
• A few things showing the underlying morality and plain intentions: at first he tried to negotiate with both Robert, Amicia, and Beatrice as well. He condones stealing entirely. He doesn't kill Arthur at first.
• In the concept art he is left handed. In Middle Ages, left handed people were considered sinful, since it was the "devil's hand". This added with the self-punishing- self-destructive-Catholic mindset, added with his devotion, signs that he is penitent, and does what he should for a greater good, a salvation, and carries the burden of "sacrifice".

Ask me anything you want to know about these diploma mills and I'll do my best to answer. Below I've included some background and answers to some questions I'm anticipating. To avoid revealing my identity, I won't specify the mill, but I assure you this is a legitimate experience. Ask away.
Why did you quit? I worked in admissions. I couldnt take it anymore, going home with a guilty feeling that I'm contributing to the problem of mass immigration and, by extension, the housing crisis. So I quit. Despite struggling to find a job for 6 months before this, I felt like I had no choice. I had benefits, remote work, good pay, and healthy work/life balance, but this job might as well have been spitting in the faces of Canadians because it gave me the same feeling.
Is my institution aware that it's a diploma mill? Not at all. I even asked about it and everyone gave me the same or similar answers:

1. We are much smaller than the major universities like UofT and UBC etc. the xxxx number of students we bring in are inconsequential.
   
2. We are giving these young people a chance to better themselves. We are doing good for Canada. You should feel proud.
   
3. (From my Indian coworker): Without Indians, Canada would be nothing. You guys need us to make Canada better. It's a dying country without us because the population is so low and birth rates are declining and Canadians aren't ambitious enough to fill the high level jobs.
   
4. We can't survive without international students. They're our main source of income.
   
5. It's not your job to think about these things.
   

What kinds of students did you bring in? 100% of our most recent intake was Indian. Normally, it's (roughly) 90% Indian, 9% Nigerian, and 1% someone from a different country. I'd estimate they're 75% male, 25% female, 0% non-binary (we do not have updated stats on gender so this is purely observation)
Why did you primarily bring in Indians? All the cheap overseas agents are Indian and they exclusively recruit in India. Every single one of our agents was Indian. I asked if we could diversify and my boss said "no money" and "the government is more likely to approve Indian permits so we shouldn't waste time with people from other countries."
Any fraudulent applications? I'd estimate anywhere from 25-50% of the applications from India are fraudulent. I often got people applying with flawless English proficiency scores but they'd use a translator to communicate with me. When I would speak to them directly they couldn't respond to basic questions after "how are you?" My boss demanded that I accept them anyway because we could get sued and checking for it's legitimacy was too costly.
Do they work? Yes. Every student I've admitted works as much as possible, primarily at nearby fast food restaurants, convenience stores, and for Ubetaxi services.
How much time do they spend in classes then? Fortunately, my institution requires attendance. Unfortunately, most courses are hybrid so we cannot verify that they are actually present. Even still, a full course load here (5 courses) requires less than ~20 hours per week of actual work because the institution wants to give students more time to work. This is absurd to me, as they are supposed to be students first and foremost. To be clear, all of this works out to them only coming in 2-3 times a week, depending on the student's schedules. Some professors have also reduced the homework to give them more time to work.
How are these students/applicants overall? I want to emphasize that I am pro responsible immigration (immigration levels that our infrastructure supports, with people who respect Canadian values and want to integrate and improve the country) but anti mass immigration. I will not respond to racist comments. This is not intended to be a racist response either.
Some things I've noticed about many (not all) of our students from the past year - they are very grateful to be in Canada - bathrooms are VERY dirty (I spend at least 15 minutes a day wiping up pee, cleaning up wrappers and paper towels, etc) - they want to go to the US after getting Canada PR - they barely speak English despite all of my institution's classes being fully in English - they do not respect quiet rules, meaning a general expectation that people in halls should be quiet to respect those in offices and classrooms (although this could be said about any uni students) - I have recieved a notable increase in complaints from female domestic students of harassment from male international students
Please feel free to ask anything and everything! I'll try to respond as soon as I can

Mainly the camp and how it’s upgraded. Instead of just dumping money into the camp for minimal rewards, it should have been mandatory in order for the story to progress. This could have made the player have to find ways in the open world to get resources needed to move forward with the story.
• Gambling - the player could become a gambler and get perks associated with that play style that are actually meaningful and noticeable once acquired.
• Outlaw - the player could have been able to rob banks, stores, and trains without instantly getting a bounty. This could have been something that required planning on the players behalf in order to get in and out without being caught.
• Jobs - like horse breaking, or even becoming a stagecoach for pedestrians to earn some extra money
• Hunting and fishing - also could have been rewarded with perks that are noticeable and provide money or resources needed to progress the camp and story
• Bounty hunting - also could have given some perks, maybe some outfits that make the player less likely to get a bounty, especially for petty things, while providing some income to move the camp and story forward
These are just a few things that could have made the player have different incentives for different play styles to go through the story with. The camp system feels really unfinished, it’s mainly because you can just completely ignore it and the story just goes on like it’s not even there. The rewards the game does offer is almost all just for a 100 percent completion trophy, with basically nothing else to show for. Even RDR1 had small perks associated with the outfits you unlock