My boyfriend and I met in December 2023, started dating February 2024, and have now been together for almost 3 months. We live three hours away but see each other 2-5 times a month and call every day.
In January 2023, both my boyfriend and I went through long term breakups with our first loves. I had been with my ex boyfriend for 3 years, and he had been with his ex girlfriend on & off for 4 years.
When they were broken up, he was still very much obsessed with her. He would date and sleep with other people, but never seriously. He would leave relationships for her and block people once she would tell him she wants him back.
Their relationship was a toxic, vicious cycle that neither could break. But she was always the one that had the most power over him and would initiate all the breakups, while he would come back to her any time she was done dating other people for a little while. The final time she came back, he even proposed to her and they were engaged for a few months.
My past relationship, on the other hand, was a consistent one, and I didn’t have much dating experience after we broke up. My current boyfriend is my second relationship ever, so I’m still learning how to love someone while we both have pasts.
He acts obsessed with me. Super in love, always taking pictures of me and posting me on his social medias, spending so much money to visit me, calling me every night, making a private couple Instagram devoted to our pictures, but still brings up his ex a lot. We both had that problem a bit, but I slowly stopped doing it as often when I realized it wasn’t healthy. However, he always compares me to her. “() would do this.” “() liked this kind of music.”
Well in March, after a year of no contact between them, she (like always based on what he said) finally texted him just to see where he lived now and tell him she’s back in their hometown, asking how he is. He told me they had a short texting convo. I was a little jealous, but since he told me about it and it seemed small and short, I didn’t think too deeply. But it sent him into days worth of a spiral thinking about it. I tried not to bring it up too much.
Then one time in April, he got super depressed and wouldn’t tell me anything. I figured it was about his ex, as he still seems sad about her sometimes and talks so often about her. He got so bad that he drove the 6 hours back to his hometown where his parents live, took days off of work, which is also where she’s from and they met, and stayed with his parents.
I was dumb and suggested that he calls her to finally get some closure. He didn’t tell me if he would or not, until a week later after he was a bit himself again, he confirmed they talked but said “it’s just between me and her.” I said okay and didn’t bring it up even though it bothered me to know what the talked about.
We’ve been doing good since then, but he gets REALLY jealous of me talking with any guys at all. Like REALLY jealous. He likes to look through my phone and read my messages sometimes, which I don’t mind bc I have nothing to hide. But he don’t let me see his. Then two weeks ago, I got curious to see if he did really meet with his ex, and I saw the dreaded messages when he was sleeping (I know, it’s not good but I had suspicions).
During that time he was depressed, they didn’t call but he asked if they could meet in person. It seemed like she was really distant and not interested before or after their meeting, but he texted her things after they met up like, “I would’ve really regret if I didn’t get to see you before going to work abroad for 3 months.” And, “Are you sure you don’t have any feelings for me?”and, “I could never hate you, why would you think that? Please talk to me, I want to hear how you’re feeling.”
I tried to silently leave his apartment while he was asleep, but he woke up and cried, begging me to stay and that he’s over her, he loves me, he just needed closure to confirm she doesn’t have feelings for him so he can move on.
But it hurt me that he needed to know she doesn’t have feelings before he could continue a relationship with me. It makes me feel like if she wasn’t so distant and did have feelings, he would’ve left me immediately. I feel like a placeholder.
He also never told her about me, and told me that the reason he’s taking a work trip abroad for 3 months is because she always comes back in the summer and is scared she’s gonna final his new city and address and he won’t be able to turn her away. That was his explanation while crying to me and begging me to stay. And I said, “So the reason I’m losing my boyfriend for 3 months is because you think your ex will come back again like usual, find your new address, and you won’t be able to say no?”
It caused a huge fight, him sending her a message saying he’s with someone new now and loves me, wants to be with me, and is saying goodbye to their relationship forever.
But then after saying he blocked her, I saw a few days ago he didn’t and only hid her chat. He also sent her contact to a no name social media account that I think is his second account so that he has another way to contact her when he’s away for three months, but he says it’s not.
He said it’s the account of a friend that liked her while he was dating her and wanted to get with her if they ever broke up, so he sent her contact to this friend (which is still weird). But there’s no call or chat history with this friend. Just her contact.
So I’m wondering, should I break up with him? Is he still attached to his ex and I’m the idiot rebound?

{This is an accumulation of various comments and other’s hard work as well. Thank you all for your continued hard work and faith in Our God the Father}
John 1:1 is hardly a Trinitarian proof text.
Various translation have the c part as “and the Word was a god.” Other translations have “and the Word was divine.”
A Contemporary English Translation of the Coptic Text. The Gospel of John, Chapter One (From 2nd/3rd century):

1In the beginning the Word existed. The Word existed in the presence of God, and the Word was a divine being. 2This one existed in the beginning with God.

Diaglot NT, 1865:

“In a beginning was the Word, and the Word was with the God, and a god was the Word.”

Harwood, 1768:

"and was himself a divine person"

Newcome, 1808:

"and the word was a god"

Thompson, 1829:

"the Logos was a god”

Robert Harvey, D.D., 1931:

"and the Logos was divine (a divine being)”

Greek Orthodox /Arabic translation, 1983:

"the word was with Allah [God] and the word was a god"

John J. McKenzie, S.J., in his Dictionary of the Bible, says: “John 1:1 should rigorously be translated ‘the word was with the God [= the Father], and the word was a divine being.’”—(Brackets are his.) New York, 1965), p. 317
“In John 1:1c, the Word is not the one-and-only God, but is a god, or divine being.”—Truth in Translation: Accuracy and Bias in English Translations of the New Testament, pages 115, 122, and 123.
Joseph Henry Thayer, a Unitarian scholar who worked on the American Standard Version says of John 1:1: “The Logos [or, Word] was divine, not the divine Being himself.”
Even Vine in his dictionary admits 'the literal translation is, 'a god was the Word'.
The Word, was in the presence of God. The Word was alongside of God, near to, in front of. John tells us, this divine being, came to the earth, this divine being, became flesh, for prior to this he was a spirit being. The Word, is a title, given to a specific being, and not God's speech or expressions… Jesus, the Word, the Logos, is not God.
However, even without arguing grammar, we can read from the same letter and see the frame of mind John had Jesus, the Word, in.
Notably John 1:18 says that “no man has seen God at any time.” This occurs many times and isn’t a one off idea. (Ex 33:20; John 6:46; 1 John 4:12)
If we read previously at John 1:14, we see that the Word became flesh. Jesus was clearly seen by many thousands of people. That easily concludes that Jesus is not God.
John 1:23, “I am a voice of someone crying out in the wilderness.” Jesus is quoting Isaiah 40:3. This isn’t a new idea, Malachi 3:1:

1Behold, I will send my messenger, and he shall prepare the way before me: and the Lord, whom ye seek, shall suddenly come to his temple, even the messenger of the covenant, whom ye delight in: behold, he shall come, saith [YHWH] of hosts.

There is the temple again, not Jesus physical body. But! Lord, whom ye seek. We see this distinction between God and Lord at 1 Cor 8:5-6:

5 For even though there are so-called gods, whether in heaven or on earth, just as there are many “gods” and many “lords,” 6 there is actually to us one God, the Father, from whom all things are and we for him; and there is one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom all things are and we through him. (KJV says the same)

So, John had the same mindset that Paul wrote about here. The Word was certainly not God, because we have seen Jesus. Jesus claims to be the messenger, the answerer of the ones crying out in the wilderness. John, nor Paul, thought Jesus was Almighty God, YHWH.

I lost my mom about a year ago.
Being the eldest, culturally I tried rounding up the rest of the family, checking on everyone every now and then. My Dad (60M) was distant for a couple of months, which I thought of his way of taking it slow and processing his grief.. until I found out that he got himself a girlfriend (28F) barely 3 months after my mom's passing. Now I've learned about this without his knowing. I waited patiently for him to open this up to us, his children, but apparently he has no plans of doing so. So I confronted him, and it was not pretty.
I was enraged with his measures of trying to fix himself by deciding to remarry, with a woman he barely knows, who is younger than my younger brother. And turns out, as she claims, she was pregnant, and he's been sending her money since then. At that time my Dad took a long vacation with me, which is for another post.
I went with my gut and hired an investigator to check this woman out, and turns out she's not pregnant. To my shock and annoyance, I started asking more questions, until they started arguing as to why my dad's adult children are meddling with their relationship. We asked for checkup schedules, doctor's names, anything to prove of her claim. She didn't show us any, said that we don't have the right to see it. And not long after, she said that she miscarried. Our investigator pointed out that this was a convenient way for her to escape our inquiries, guilt trip my dad and to seek empathy.
Now my dad got messed up hearing the news, but I just wanted to know which hospital she was brought (she claims she was home and was brought in through ER). I called up my friend nurses in the area and weirdly enough she can't be found anywhere. What's worse, he made up his mind that it's our fault as to why the miscarriage happened (even if the pregnancy was not proven to begin with).
Through all this mess, I started to grow cold towards my father. I understand that grief makes you disoriented, unable to come up with good decisions, but adding this shady relationship in the picture really did it. I ended up not giving him a proper send off after his visit.
He also kept seeing her and he asked us to just 'forgive and forget' during the Christmas/New Year's season. Not only did he kept seeing her, he believed her story/claim more than us and the investigation. I guess that was my last straw.
I was mentally and emotionally exhausted from the back and forth of him convincing us to let go of our 'doubts' and to just let him be. It was making me sick to my stomach especially with the thought of him not even waiting an honest year for my mother's sake, before making his way to another woman. I was portrayed as a disrespectful daughter, but I'd rather be truthful and honest about my feelings. Plus, culturally, you were not supposed to answer back to your parent because, well, they are the parent. But I've lived in the U.S. long enough to know that this situation doesn't count.
For the mean time he said he's not gonna remarry, but with him not being honest since this started, it's hard to believe what he says anymore.
It's very sad because I know he's not a bad person, but I'm really getting tired of this while I'm trying to grieve and raise my own family as well.
Currently VLC but not sure how to go from here. Thoughts?

Mattana Ministry Welcomes You To: Weekly Bible Study: 14 May 2024 Theme: Bible Basics Explained/Faith Scripture: Heb. 10:35-39 & Heb. 11:1-2 Message: God Exists
Faith may seem a small thing, but it can lead people to some extraordinary actions. Consider this story from Romania. The year was 1989, and the Communist government ruled. The Communism that ruled much of Eastern Europe in the 20th century was built on atheistic ideology and philosophy. Though the government allowed church, it kept a tight grip, and often jailed and tortured pastors and believers who defied their rule.
In the town of Timisoara, a local pastor named Tokes, who was teaching the Bible faithfully, was commanded to leave his home and church because he had criticized the government for human rights violations. On the day the police were to evict their pastor, local Christians surrounded the home to stop them. A crowd grew quickly, and the army was called in to stop them. Shots fired. Many wounded, many killed. But then something incredible occurred. The people didn’t fight back. Instead they knelt and prayed. Can we picture that? Prayer against bullets.
Yet the sight was too much for the soldiers. They refused to shoot any more. By this time, the whole town was there. Another pastor named Dugulescu climbed to the balcony of the local opera house and addressed the crowd. He recited something, only a few lines, and two simple words struck deep in the hearts of the people. They began chanting. Then shouting. Two words in defiance of oppression. Two words that cried out for freedom, equality, and dignity. Again and again, they shouted in unison: God exists.
We’ll come back to that story. For now, those same two words are at the very heart of this little thing called faith. So what is faith? Is it just another word for belief? I believe in God - so that’s faith. Right? Well, James reminds us that demons believe in God, and they tremble over that belief. So faith is more than that.
So what is it then? Is it an action of the heart or a conviction of the mind? Or maybe it’s just a feeling in our gut of what we know is true.
To find some answers, we’re turning to the book of Hebrews, and a chapter known as the Hall of Faith. Hebrews 11. The chapter reads like an Old Testament hall of heroes. It’s a highlight reel from every prophet and warrior who ever made it onto a Sunday School flannel board. If we grew up with Bible heroes, we’ll recognize these names. And even if we missed out on all that, there’s something about these heroes - something they all have in common. Many epic stories, countless grand adventures, one shared attribute. And it’s not just courage, or compassion, or integrity. All of those are beautiful and necessary. But this one, this one changes them all. Faith transforms all of our virtues because it gives them direction and purpose. It points everything about us back to God.
So what is faith? Hebrews 11 verse 1:
“Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see” (Hebrews 11:1). Faith is confidence. The Greek word here can also be translated substance. Faith gives substance to the things that we hope for. Hope is about the future anticipation of good things coming. But hope alone is ephemeral a dream with nothing tangible to grab hold of. It takes faith to give hope substance, and confidently grab ahold of it here in the present. And back in verse 1, faith is also assurance about what we do not see.
Now not seen is not the same as not real. The Greek words here carry a sense that means not yet seen. Just because we don’t see it yet doesn’t mean it isn’t real. That’s where hope comes in. Hebrews 6 calls hope an “anchor for our souls.” It keeps us grounded, stops us from drifting.
See hope without faith is just wishful thinking. Like a lottery ticket - I hope this one changes my life, but it probably won’t. But hope with faith is like a bus ticket. Sure, the road might be rough and my fellow passengers can occasionally get on my nerves, but my ticket says home, and I know that my bus driver will get me there.
And verse 2 tells us:
“This is what the ancients were commended for” (Hebrews 11:2). The ancients here refer to Old Testament heroes, and the rest of the chapter reminds us of their stories. Fantastic stories. But they’re not just here to tell a good story. This chapter was written to encourage us. Chapter 10 ended with a powerful call to stand strong to persevere in the face of trial. Back in 10:35,
“Do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded. You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised”(Hebrews 10:35b-36). And chapter 10 ends with one essential Old Testament quote from Habakkuk:
“The righteous shall live by faith” (Hebrews 10:38). Remember, righteous means right with God. And in the Bible it’s the only way to Heaven. And Hebrews reminds us that when we’re right with God, faith is how we live. That short verse is quoted throughout the New Testament.
MM
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As If It Were Kismet: Prologue
Matt tore through the brush, blind in the dark. He didn’t care where he was going. He only knew he needed to be elsewhere. Far from here.
Behind him a creature howled that shocked his mind. It’s form was cruel and dangerous, though female. Nothing like the young woman she had once been. Nothing but a girl, a small and slight female.
It’s guttural growls and howls only grew closer as Matt tried to pick between seeing where he was going and getting away. The few times he looked he caught sight of the creature behind him. Hopping through the air with a speed that told him he was being toyed with. As if he were a mouse being played with by a cat.
But the reflex in him to run kept him going. His adrenaline going as hard as it could. The tightness and burning in his core tensing and locking up as his legs felt like there were being burned from within while taking on more of a heaviness.
His lungs were starting to betray him as he tried to gulp big breaths of air but only rapid and shallow breaths were all that he could manage. His brain was starting to burn….and then he was falling.
Falling down the side of a hill he saw the creature dart in a spring towards him, imperceivably fast almost. Catching him in mid air it seemed.
Managing to wrap its body around him and cushion his impact against the ground as they rolled. His mind barely took in what was happening during the roll. Only starting to understand what was happening once they were still.
The creature's triple D-cup breasts were unmistakably pressed hard against his back as he laid facing up at the night sky.
For a few seconds the world stilled and the needle light pain hitting the center of his brain took over for the cooking heat his brain had felt. His whole body felt heavy and reluctant to move.
Even if he could have really moved, a dull ache came over his limbs making them feel stilled and trapped as if by immeasurable amounts of sand that had engulfed him.
Slowly the arms holding him started to move. Moving so the creature's hands could start exploring him. Causing Matt to unstoppably let out a pathetic moan that made him go cold inside as hands lifted up his shirt and started to touch his exposed stomach and then his chest.
He would have whimpered so pathetically had he not still been in the depths of terror.
As its hands felt and groped his pecs he tried to situp as if to get away. For his efforts, his reward was a hand around his throat and a collection snarls and growls against his ear. A beastly, guttural voice spat words at him while somehow holding a feminine tone.
“Don’t move….I don’t know if I can calm down…”
Her words were not helped by her moans in his ear and the subsequent kissing of his ear. The flesh of his ear going between her lips as she moaned and seemed to pant. Releasing it and licking the side of his face with a moist warmth. He could feel its spittle, viscous and coating his flesh where the tongue touched. He could smell something in his saliva. Something that subtly entranced him.
Matt went stock still with fear and the confusion of mixed arousal. He barely perceived her right hand traveling lower on his body. A surprised moan and shudder echoed in the night from Matt’s lips as she took ahold of him. Her hand above his pants but still….stimulating him.
A light squeezing and almost probing of her digits kept him aroused and confused within her grasp. Resigning himself to the strange fate, Matt looked up at the stars as his mind tried not to shatter under the strange maelstrom of events and sensation that had started mere minutes ago.
His mind was only more confused as a slight figure, feminine in build, how it seemed to thunk the ground audibly as she landed on her feet out nowhere. Her knees barely bending under the pressure of the landing. Yet dirt was kicked up anyways and some of it onto Matt. Feeling it pepper his shirt and pants as it fell.
The figure, lit only faintly by moonlight, roared some dark tone Matt could only perceive as a demon as her eyes went bright with a crimson light. A light in the darkness that should not have been. “Let him go you bitch.” Was its words following the roar. Spittle escaping its mouth with faint droplets hit Matt's face.
The creature holding him by his throat and crotch seemed to tighten the grasp of both hands as it roared back. “HE IS MINE!”
The figure paused with a moment's hesitation. He was also her quarry. She had felt his fear without him knowing. His confused arousal. His fear. His terror.
And now he laid at the center of a struggle between two monsters. Unsure of who he wanted to win.
As If It Was Kismet Ch. 1
Matthew Berkshire hadn’t seen his mom in two years. Not that he had seen her much over the last six years.
A messy divorce between messy people and mom’s chaotic want for a life in Alaska had been one of the most…upsetting times in life. Setting him up for so much of what had defined his life thus far but then that had really started two years before he ever turned.
His ear buds were basic and simple. A part of cheap five pack, common for his life as he was known to lose little things. Small things. They had a mix of metal and hard rock playing in them. Some classics, some alternative. Whatever made him feel something, anything. Even if it was hate. Anger. Rage. It was better than feeling numb. Not belonging.
The escalator down to his lone bag to go with his lone carry on showed his mom waiting for him. His had a type, that’s for damn sure. Not that it helped him in the genetics department as he was stuck at 5’9” to go along with his mother’s five foot even as his dad stood six foot. Forever leaving him to feel small, to pale, under his dad’s shadow. Did he ever stand a chance?
The guy next to her with the unkempt former seventies porn stache was “Dave.” He’d met him twice when his mother came and visited him in Florida. To his credit the guy didn’t look annoyed. Kind of concerned kind of which made Matthew want to break his frozen look but he was well practiced. Having removed any note of sadness from his face through much…tribulation.
His mother’s look on her face betrayed a hint of worry as the bruises on his face lightly showed up close. Saying his name was his like a distant echo that belonged to someone else.
Dave cut in and pulled out his right headphone. “What the hell bud, they knock you hard enough to hurt hearing? Your mom’s asking how you are doing.”
Matthew pulled out the other bud and grunted an empty “sorry.”
“You still have bruises after two week? What did they do to you?” His mom’s voice was full of worry. Something he hadn’t heard in….too long. Too long to make him feel anything. To ever make him believe there was any sincerity to her words. To not think her voice and mannerisms were an act. An act by someone who…wasn’t really there.
“It’s only fair. I took a nose. Fractured a couple orbital bones. Left one with having to get his jaw wired shut. And one will never walk right again for what I did to his knee cap.” Matthew said it all with a bored and disinterested tone. Perhaps well rehearsed.
“My man, handing out ass kickings, not bothering to take names.” Dave was quick to be the typical man’s man about it. Matthew wasn’t quite done yet. Lifting up his shirt to expose the right side near his kidney. Revealing a nasty scar from a six inch blade. “Luckily they gave me this first so they could rule it all in self-defense. The fuck didn’t get it in more than inch before I ruined his knee cap and then I took the nose of one of the fucks holding me.” Now he chose to smile keeping the well practiced dead look in his eyes.
No retorts. No questions. Just horrified looks on their faces. As he liked. As he preferred. They could hate him. They could be disgusted by him. But by God they would fear him.
“Well the doc did a good job sewing you up.” Dave commented uncomfortably. “Dissolving sutures. Ain’t they grand.” He smiled again and let it abruptly fall off his face and started walking to the carousel for the baggage claim.
Waiting and making small talk with Dave as his mother stood in silence. He was not the little boy she abandoned. The little boy she left with an angry man. While never hitting him. Left him in constant fear till he turned twelve and just didn’t care anymore. Something snapped. Broke. And he didn’t care if he died. Didn’t care if he stole. Didn’t even care if he killed. He just knew not to get caught. Something left over from his grandfather’s wisdom which came to make more and more sense with each passing year of life since that thing inside him broke.
Finally his bag came around and Dave went to try first to grab it but Dave practically leapt ahead of him. “Is that your grandfather’s rucksack bag?” his mother asked in a perplexed voice.
“Figured it’s been around since Viet Nam. So it’d serve me better than any of the worthless stuff they called luggage.” Dave commented after Matthew’s words. “Well hell yeah I still got mine from Desert Storm. You know the first one.” Dave laughed and Matthew eyed him oddly. Be it in the south or whether it was Alaska, country boys are country boys he guessed.
The car ride to the two people’s house, as Matthew thought of them. Was uneventful and full of vistas he imagined metropolitan types wetting themselves over. At most they meant isolation to him. Furtherness from the world as there were no mountains in Florida. And what mountains he had last seen in another state had been when he was eight. Another life, to Matthew it felt like. A life alien to him.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 2
Dave and his mom’s place was some two story type tucked into a tree line far up an elevated point. It was by no means the highest point in the mountain but it certainly felt up there.
Rocks were where the driveway should have been Matthew thought. Grabbing his backpack and rucksack from Dave’s jeep was no hard thing for him. Matthew was in formidable shape for someone his age, maybe even five years older. He had gotten a mix of fairly big shoulders and arms along with the chest to go for it when compared to most kids his age. A side effect of working out at least twice a day. First thing in the morning, some time in the evening, and the school’s gym when had had a good semester in school before he had to leave Florida.
Dave tried to come up and help him but Matthew walked past him towards the house. His mom was not sure what to make of his demeanor. Matthew was not the sweet kind boy he had once been. But she had been gone from his life essentially for a long time.
Ushering him into the house she cracked some joke he did not hear. He was too busy looking about and seeing a mix of old outdated decorating mixed with the strange and odd flair of his mother. Color contrasting against drab and dated. Like brightly painting over an old home that was falling apart he thought.
“Your room is this way Mattie.” His mom brightly intoned.
Without expressing any interest he followed his mother. Still faced and nonplussed. Just going along with the current. Pushed and pulled with its roll like a piece of driftwood.
The room was simple. A single small bed. A set of rubber weights with a curl bar and barbells. “Your dad said you were into weight lifting so we got you a bunch of stuff. Dave says it looks like his department’s gym almost. The woman’s smile felt very alien to him.
“Thank you. I appreciate it. I’ve got most of my stuff from home.” Matthew starting unpacking his rucksack and pulled out cables of repetitive and mixed colors. A single plastic barbell handle. The ruck sack could be filled with water bottles for added weight during pushups he figured. Remembering a Michael Keaton movie he watched with his dad post-Batman movies where he played a convicted killer using plastic bags filled with water for weights.
Matthew caught movement outside his lone fairly large window that could let him step out onto the roof of the house given its layout.
He saw a number of people running together through what he guessed was the backyard of the property, not that it had any fences to mark boundaries
They wore clothes that looked similar yet different from each other at the same time.”Oh those are the Johnston’s. Really nice bunch of people. Been on the mountain for a long time Dave tells me.”
Matthew looked at the group of people running and noticed the lack of resemblance. “They are related?” Matthew quizzically asked. Seeing a black and possibly a hispanic person amongst the bland looking white people.
“Oh well they are all adopted but for one or two of them…besides the parents of course. The family has a long tradition of taking in orphans they say. Real nice of them to do that don’t you think.”
Matthew looked at his mother and the hosier accent made no sense to him as he arched his left eye brow. Her and his dad were both from Florida. Born and raised. Sure her parents were from New York city but…
Matthew shook his lightly without turning to look at his mother as his vision was grabbed by one of the runners in particular. A girl of moderate height. Soft brunette. A plain beauty he figured with a slim build….and lack of remarkable breasts and rear to make any note of but….girls in general were his type at his age.
She was pretty enough. He couldn’t deny that but he found himself transfixed by her visage.
But the way she turned and looked at him, especially at that distance felt very disconcerting to him. Even if she was smiling like…she was a taste of a bright shiny day. Somehow.
Matthew’s mom noticed the exchange and smiled to herself with closed lips. “Oh that’s Vicky. She’s your age I think. Very sweet girl, who does the charity functions. You know bake sales, blood drives, car washes and the like. I think you should get to know her. Might be good for you.”
A truck horn sounded a couple of beeps in rather succession. “Oh that must be Mack, he said he might come by later this evening but he seems early.”
Matthew’s mother turned and left his room. Leaving Matthew to exchange a few looks with the alluring Vicky as she turned her head away from him to talk to the others in her group and look back at him.
Still Matthew’s left eyebrow was arched. In a way that reminded him of Spock from Star Trek that he and his grandpa used to watch on some streaming service or another.
As he heard ambient chatter elsewhere outside the house he figured to check it out as the alluring sight of Vicky would be around he figured. It was dull to stare at artwork. He was a boy who preferred jet skis and the like. Something he could ride and enjoy immensely. Even if at times it got him stabbed.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 3
Matthew sauntered out of the house and down the rockway that stood in for a driveway.
A few new people had come over from what he could first surmise of the situation. As he got closer it was obvious they were indigenous people. A couple of grown men…and a girl?
She was mousey. Maybe five foot. Hiding behind glasses and a big camo jacket that was far too big for her. It looked made for a grown man and the backwards trucker hat on her head kept her long black a beautiful mess of sorts.
She was cute in a way. A little androgynous but she had a cute energy to her. She reminded him of the more tomboyish Puerto Rican girls he had gotten into back in Florida. Given the deer corpses in the back of the truck….probably more dangerous to play with given the men in her family.
Small chatter passed between the adults when the girl noticed but turned away, trying to hide the tiny hint of a smile.
“Oh Mattie, this is Mack. He works with Dave at the sheriff’s department and John, he’s with fish and wildlife.” Matthew nodded at his mom’s words with some blankness as he looked at the deer the in the back of the pickup truck.
“Gale tells us you hunted with your dad some in Florida and Georgia.” Mack offered with a light hearted laugh camouflaged by his big simple and cheery but husky way he spoke.
Looking in the back of the truck he spoke. “We used lever action thirty-thirties and Mosin Nagants in seven-six-two-fifty-four-rimmed.” Mack and John whistled in an exaggerated fashion. Leaving Matthew to wonder if they were mocking him.
Mack spoke. “Well we just used thirty-odd-six in a custom gussied Garand.” That caught Matthew’s attention. “You have a Garand…” Matthew finally demonstrated interest in anything. “My dad has an SVT-40 and a Hakim 8mm but he always wanted a Garand but was too cheap to buy one.”
Gale, his mother, chimed in loudly. “Oh his Dad loved his guns but was such an odd duck about how he bought or why he bought them. Never made sense to me how he wasn’t a collector but he didn’t get the latest and greatest.” Gale laughed uncomfortably. At least it seemed that way to Matthew.
Matthew pointed to the girl with an underhanded pointing hand. “And who is this? A cute little mute mouse or does she have a name?” Dave and the other men laughed.
Mack again spoke. “Well you people call her Rebecca, she’s my adopted daughter.” Matthew was taken aback by what he heard. “You people?”
Rebecca kindly spoke with a soft but almost melodic voice as she struggled to maintain eye contact. “White people or rather not members of our tribe. It’s just easier to appease the colonizer kind of thing. Borrowed from when the Jesuit missionaries chased us up here.”
Mack stepped in. “It’s just easier to have white people names than have them try to say our tribal names. And we don’t want them shortening or Anglicising our names kind of thing.” Rebecca stepped back into the conversation cutting off her adopted father. “It’s an insult to our history basically.”
Matthew cocked his head sideways raising his eyebrows shortly before letting them drop. “Well as soon as I’m eighteen I’m out of here and back to Florida so I’m a sort of involuntary colonizer of sorts. So I won’t be taking any of your land from you. The Seminoles on the other hand are still shit out of luck.”
Rebecca’s smile caused Matthew to reflexively smile. Mack made the moment more awkward. “See Becca, I told you someone off the reservation would like you some. You just have to be creative.” Mack laughed in a chiding manner…Matthew presumed. He sensed that he was the butt of some kind of cultural joke. Like marrying a white guy was some sort of insult or mark of shame. That kind of thing.
Rebecca turning away from him was not something he had been expecting. Her then getting in the truck in a huff left the group in a silence for a moment.
Dave spoke to break the awkward silence. “Well just bring the truck to work on Monday and leave it for me to grab up.” Mack acknowledged Dave and they started to get off as Rebecca looked at Matthew for another instance. Matthew couldn’t look away for some reason as the two seemed to lock eyes for an instance.
Till Vicky and family seemed to come jogging down the road. While Matthew’s eyes diverted from Rebecca’s. Hers did not till she realized he was looking elsewhere. And her vision found Vicky and what had been a hint of smile on her face turned glum and disappointed.
Matthew did not look away from the vision of Vicky but instead of a starry eyed fool looking longingly. It was a baffled look. Well baffled for him, with his eyes drawn narrow and night with a focus.
There was something about her…he couldn’t quite put a name too. The way she appeared to him. One second brunette. The next second blonde or blonde like. As if the color appeared in her air and disappeared in fractions of seconds. Much the same way her body almost seemed to…shift…very subtly…smoothly. A nicer bum. Larger breasts. And then back to a simple and plain form. Feminine no doubt. Attractive. But not so…remarkable.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 4
The next two days passed without incident. Nothing of any real substance or challenge to note.
Matthew got settled somewhat and started working out almost immediately. Exploring around the woods but Dave told him not to go far. Especially without a hunting rifle. Dave had left a simple semi-auto Winchester out for him. His bear gun as Dave referred to it with its four round magazine. But Matt figured till he got some practice with the rifle to leave it alone. He made a hiking stick like his grandpa taught him and treated it over a low fire. He would take some electrical tape for the end his hand would grip around. Plenty enough to ward off anything smaller than a bear he figured.
The ride to school was a pain in the neck but simple enough. Dave would let him use a clunker pickup truck he had laying around. It wasn’t pretty but it would get him to and from. Even if it was from the eighties and still backfired on occasion. But for now Dave and his mom took him on their way to the sheriff’s department.
It wasn’t much of a school. It wanted to be modern but its fifties original construction was very obvious. It serviced the pipeline families and familys’ of fisherman who worked the seasons in between their time at the pipeline.
Matt was to report to the principal for some reason Dave and his mom wouldn’t share. Which annoyed him but he figured it was to read him the law of land. Small towns with their big views of the outside world and like.
Dressed in jeans, a grey sweatshirt under a light jacket with steel toed boots set him more apart then he expected. His buzzed head didn’t help matters. Already he was feeling like a stranger in a strange land but he was quite strange after all. And he liked it that way. Normal people were so pathetically disappointing to him.
A secretary or assistant or some such led him to the principal’s office. Where it reeked of real wood that was old and fabric and upholstery that needed to be updated for the last twenty years, Matt figured.
“This is Matthew Berkshire, Principal Andrews.” The man was turned with his back to the door and he was quick to wave her off as he turned her around.
He was an older man. Fat and large. Tall with a body built like he had once been fit and a demeanour of annoyed and irate already as he fixed Matt with a scowl and look of disgust. Another worthless government whore. Matt thought to himself. His father and his grandfather had bestowed unto him a natural disrespect for government workers and the figures that wore unjustified authority as a shield but pretended the weight of the state was not at their back ready to crush all who resisted. Little figures of valor pretending to be mighty and alone but acting with the tyranny of the state and all the backing.
“Mr. Berkshire, please sit down.” His tone wasn’t unusually hostile, just gruff. As if he had better things to do.
Matt complied and took a seat in the chair while maintaining a friendly facade. Not everyone was an enemy. And not everyone needed to be an enemy. Even if anybody could be any enemy. There was no reason to make enemies you didn’t have to. Another of his grandfather’s bastardised wisdoms.
“Well I looked over you file and you have quite the history Mr. Berkshire.” Matt resisted qiuping back a joke. Instead he waited for Principal Andrews to continue as he remained nonplussed and looking as if he felt no need to respond. A simple head tilt with dead eyes looking back at the principle as if he was not even there would suffice.
Matt’s reaction or lack of a reaction rather made Principal Andrews only narrow his eyes with examination. He was not used to a kid not responding to him. Especially with his gruff and hard act going on.
“Well by all accounts you moved here after some problems at your last school. A fight broke out and you did some real harm to your fellow students it appears.” Of course, he would take the side of the perpetrators. School administrators always did. Especially when they weren’t white. Just a fact of the times. Cowardice and pathetic mediocrity was the way they leaned, like good government workers sucking the dick of Big Daddy government. Worthless whores.
Matt chose to reply. “Oh you mean the criminals that stabbed me. Got arrested at the hospital and then pled to felonies. Yeah Florida, with the American counties are good like that.” Principal Andrews went real still. No shame. No fear. No penitence. He didn’t like that.
“Well be it as it may Mr. Berkshire we don’t tolerate that kind of behaviour here…” Matt cut him off responding with a deadpan tone. “You mean self-defense meant to save one’s own life while the cowardly and pathetic school workers look on with zero interest but to keep their money rolling in and will allow known gang members with records of violent acts and crimes that should have them expelled many times over, where in certain Democrat counties such cowardice and idiocy empowered a couple school shooters?”
Principal Andrews looked at the Matt with a note of disgust. “Look here Mr. Berkshire, your beliefs matter not one bit here. This isn’t Florida. We don’t like our way of life being disrupted by outside agitators who have problems with authority.”
Matt did his best not to roll his eyes and let the older fat man drone own as he dead-stared him. Lifeless and without emotion.
The man came to a finish and Matt spoke up without having listened to him or paid him any attention. “Great now that’s taken care of. Can I please get to class and finish my sentence of two years at your wonderful school?”
Principal Andrews huffed and snorted before calling in Vicky. Vicky stood in the corner after entering with a quiet and seamless presence. Matt felt disturbed and tried not betray his feelings as the young Vicky was perceived and not perceived to be moving.
Principal Andrews made the introductions and Matt nodded back. She was to be his chaperone for the day. They had the same classes and she was to show him the ropes so to speak. The ins and outs of the school. The locations of their classes.
He recognized her. It was hard not to. The way her appearance seemed to shift fluidly almost. The petite and skinny brunette ever so lightly had a big bust and blonde hair with curves added when she seemed to shift before his eyes. Like watching a film but each frame had a different person.
Matt didn’t say anything about it. Even if he did he would only be acknowledging his crazed state, if he had one. If.
Unlike an obedient puppy dog he got up in a slow and awkward fashion and followed behind her as his oddly disproportionate frame allowed. Causing her a note of concern for some reason. As if she was seeing something she shouldn’t have been….Or he was just weird. And Matt could admit to himself he was just weird. Part of his charm, he would jest about it at times. Not that he had many people to jest to now.
As If It Were Kismet Ch. 5
Following Vicky into the hall off to their first class was simple. She exchanged small talk and he slightly smiled as if to obviously suggest he was just being polite.
Inside his head, Matt was trying to figure out if he was having a psychotic break. The way Vicky looked kept changing and he looked at the other people around him and they stayed the same.
He was searching his mind as they were walking. And thus he wasn’t paying attention to where he was looking and so fell to his face forward over his feet seemingly out of nowhere.
A series of laughs erupted as it sunk in that he was obviously tripped. Like in prison this was a challenge to his superiority. If he let this pass he would be mocked and sneered at by this same group of boys. He wouldn’t walk to them like he was going to do nothing like a little bitch.
In a rage he turned and punched the stomach of the first face he saw. Some typical blonde haired wannabe jock. He knew from experience not to aim for the ribs. Instead he needed to aim for where he thought the belly button was.
Yells and screams blindly echoed around him as his after the punch he followed up his elbow of the opposite arm slamming into the face of the jock. Harder than a fist, the elbow struck the jock’s jaw and seemingly dropped him against a locker. Just in time to catch an errant and soft punch to the nose that sure enough hurt but did little to slow him down as his dad had taught him to fight through the pain. Blood and scars happened. They were a natural consequence of life to a man.
Taking the punch and falling further into his red state Matt headbutted the punch thrower before another guy arm bared his throat from behind. Which he managed to get his grip on the arm over a letterman jacked and jerk the unprepared boy to the side with him still latched on.
A few feet away from the lockers Matt knew his only chance was to jump and push off the lockers and knock the boy to the ground and so he did. He heard a thunk of the boy’s skull bouncing off the ground and he turned to pull out of the grapple.
The beatings he had taken from his father, the grapples, being choked unconscious. Had prepared him for fighting little bitches who didn’t know what a fight was. It wasn’t gay porn with rabbit punch fists flying.
Blood was running down his face and the pain started to hit him as the threats had been eliminated. Only then did he remember to breathe. Taking breathes as Vicky came up to him with tissues and took a hold of his nose.
“Owww owww owww what the fuck my nose could be broken.” He said to Vicky as she pulled his head up and back.
“It’s ok Carl. It’s done.” Matt tried to look to see who Vicky was talking to. It was a boy taller than his 5’9” by more than a small margin. The boy eyed him bored and annoyed before speaking. “What happened here?” An unoriginal line but one Matt couldn’t be a smart aleck about. “Well you see there was an outbreak of tripping and we all tripped over my dick. It happens.” Matt was about to laugh when Vicky seemed to pull up while still gripping his nose causing Matt no small amount of pain which he audibly evidenced.
Vicky spoke in a tone he wasn’t expecting. As if she was accustomed to issuing orders. “Keep Iris away from the hall till we sanitize the site. We have blood from at least three people contaminating the site. And have Jake bring me a spare jacket and shirt for this moron.”
Carl seemed to acknowledge her orders and seemed to blink away. Maybe the punch hit harder than he expected. He had no time to wonder as Vick took her hand away from his and pushed him against the lockers. With ease he had not been expecting from her form and stature.
Before he could respond Vicky licked his blood covered chin and then his lips and spoke to him. “Focus on me you little blood bag.” Her tone had an annoyed yet feminine sneer.
“Look into my eyes. Look at me. You belong to me. You are just another food source in a collection of food sources.” Her eyes were a beautiful hazel Matt thought. Almost green. Pretty like jewels in some old treasure collections. The eyes he could get lost in before kissing her. Finally Vicky was just a slight and petite brunette and he thought she was beautiful.
She would make a hell of a girlfriend. Some cute thing he could see laying on the beach in Florida on their sides laughing and smiling before trading light kisses while hands wandered innocently. Before his mind could drift further he felt her lips on his. It took him a second to mentally grasp the kiss but his arms were around her back as her hands were at his sides. His eyes reflexively closed as he saw hers close.
It was ineffable to Matt. Beyond words, what was happening. The kiss, the moments beforehand. The way his brain tickled with electricity and gentle warmth. He had never had a kiss like this and he had traded more than a few kisses with at least a few girls.
The kiss was like a warm bath with his consciousness slipping beneath the surface. Their lips only parted to try new angles and approaches as Matt struggled to take in breath. It was a moment he could have stayed trapped in for….he didn’t know. But a curt throat clearing by another girl pulled them out of the moment.
The girl was taller than Vicky. Blonde. With slight curves. Vicky addressed her bewildered and gobsmacked, and perhaps a bit embarrassed. “Tina?”

Hi there!
Boy, I had a lot to say about this one. So far, the Zero series has been a blast. Really excited to keep diving into them! I've heard the ZX series is also good, but a bit weird... but let's not get ahead of ourselves.
As always, if you read all this rambling nonsense, thank you!

Mega Man Zero 2
A game sequel is a great opportunity to fine-tune a great or flawed game. Where Mega Man Zero set the stage for yet another Mega Man spinoff series, Zero 2 is where it begins to find its footing—but not without tripping a bit.
I think Zero 2 can be summed up like this: it is more Mega Man Zero. If you liked that game, you will like this game. It carries over much of what that game established and adds a few minor QOL tweaks to make it shine. Sadly, I think the flaws it doesn’t address is what holds Zero 2 back from being truly great.
Let’s start with the good stuff.
The storyline here is a big step-up. With these games, it’s clear Capcom wanted to place a greater focus on the characters themselves, along with storylines that are a bit more complex than “wake up Mega Man the same asshole you’ve fought for 10 years is, to everyone’s surprise, being an asshole”. The game’s main villain, for example, is a well-meaning chap that starts off on your side but becomes corrupt thanks to what seems to be an intense desire to prove himself—a desire that leads to a ton of collateral damage to both allies and enemies. We establish what I imagine will be a key theme going forward: whatever the hell the Dark Elf is, it seems to latch onto personality quirks that it can use to its advantage and crank them up to 11. Just about every boss you fight exhibits this, especially in the refight stages. It’s not quite going Maverick; something about it feels more sinister, somehow.
The elf system returns, and using them still tanks your rank, but this time you can at least find sub tanks out in the world. A new upgrade system rewards you for playing through levels in specific ways (kill X amount of enemies with a dash attack, kill Y amount of enemies with the buster, etc.) and grants you new forms that do everything from turning your saber combo into a single powerful swing or letting you roly-poly-blenderman your way across stages (a personal favorite, for sure).
Another upgrade system, one that I have mixed feelings on, is EX forms. Bosses still don’t drop their weapons, but if you clear a level while your rank is A or higher, you’ll unlock a unique, often powerful ability. I’m mixed on this because on one hand, rewarding skilled play is great. It incentivizes more playthroughs and taking the time to master the game’s systems (and, indeed, I do really want to play this one again and see if I can improve! And I wanna try hard mode! Mega Man games do not typically have this effect on me!). On the other… well. I don’t think it’s very fun to grant awards that ultimately make the game easier and more fun… to highly skilled players only. I feel like they could’ve balanced this better. If nothing else, tying the “damage” points to how much health you have at the end of a boss vs. how much damage you took throughout the level may have balanced it out more.
Or perhaps I should simply “git gud” as the kids say. (Do the kids still say this? Sorry. I’m an old)
One thing to the game’s detriment is that weapon upgrades return, and they’re just as clunky as before. Kill X enemies with a weapon and you’ll unlock a new ability for it, and just like Zero 1, the charge shot takes way too long to get to. Let me charge my damn shots, Capcom! Why make me wait?
The other returning flaws are harder to blame the game for—i.e., the GBA’s screen size making it harder to avoid damage from off-screen (and spikes, Capcom please, you do not need to put spikes at the bottom of a long drop, who hurt you?). Things like that.
Along with returning flaws come a handful of new ones. The most significant one being the Chain Rod. I don’t really know how to sugar coat this: the Chain Rod sucks. As a weapon it’s mostly fine, I guess. But the utility is bafflingly poor. The intended use of it is to use it as a grappling hook, swinging across ceilings to avoid spikes or to reach higher, hard-to-reach spots. The problem is that it feels awful to use. Building momentum simply isn’t possible—it stops you dead in your tracks unless you manage to angle the shot just right during a jump. Maybe my brain is just hard-wired to use these things a certain way (Super Metroid, Super Castlevania IV, and even Environmental Station Alpha comes to mind) but there was almost never a point where using this thing felt better than just jumping across a gap or finding some other way to get to an Elf.
That aside, when I say this game is “more Mega Man Zero” that does mean all the good things as well. Boss fights? Sublime. Zero’s controls? Smooth. The spritework? Immaculate. Ultimately, I feel that Zero 2 is an improvement over Zero 1 in almost every conceivable way. But there are enough little things carried over from the first that I’m left wanting more. It is for that reason that I’m giving it a slightly lower score.
8/10

Classic Series 1-4 Classic Series 5-6 Classic Series 7-8 Classic Series 9-10
Mega Man X Mega Man X2 Mega Man X3 Mega Man X4
Mega Man X5 Mega Man X6 Mega Man X7 Mega Man X8
Mega Man Zero

Mother's Day is a special occasion dedicated to celebrating the incredible women who have shaped our lives with their love, care, and wisdom. Whether you’re writing a card, posting on social media, or simply sharing a moment with your mom, finding the perfect words can sometimes be challenging. Here’s a collection of heartfelt Mother's Day quotes to help you express your love and gratitude.
Classic Mother’s Day Quotes

1. “A mother’s love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity. It dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.” – Agatha Christie
2. “God could not be everywhere, and therefore he made mothers.” – Rudyard Kipling
3. “All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.” – Abraham Lincoln
4. “A mother is she who can take the place of all others but whose place no one else can take.” – Cardinal Mermillod
5. “Life began with waking up and loving my mother’s face.” – George Eliot

Inspirational Mother’s Day Quotes

1. “Motherhood: All love begins and ends there.” – Robert Browning
2. “The influence of a mother in the lives of her children is beyond calculation.” – James E. Faust
3. “A mother’s arms are more comforting than anyone else’s.” – Princess Diana
4. “To the world, you are a mother, but to your family, you are the world.” – Unknown
5. “Mothers hold their children’s hands for a short while, but their hearts forever.” – Unknown

Funny Mother’s Day Quotes

1. “Silence is golden. Unless you have kids, then silence is just suspicious.” – Unknown
2. “Insanity is hereditary; you get it from your children.” – Sam Levenson
3. “If at first, you don’t succeed, try doing it the way mom told you to in the beginning.” – Unknown
4. “It’s not easy being a mother. If it were, fathers would do it.” – The Golden Girls
5. “Nothing is really lost until your mom can’t find it.” – Unknown

Quotes for New Moms

1. “Being a mother is learning about strengths you didn’t know you had and dealing with fears you didn’t know existed.” – Linda Wooten
2. “A baby fills a place in your heart that you never knew was empty.” – Unknown
3. “There are places in the heart you don’t even know exist until you love a child.” – Anne Lamott
4. “A newborn baby is the beginning of all things – wonder, hope, a dream of possibilities.” – Eda LeShan
5. “Motherhood is the greatest thing and the hardest thing.” – Ricki Lake

Quotes to Show Gratitude

1. “Thank you for being the guiding light in my life and for always being there when I need you. Happy Mother’s Day!”
2. “You are my greatest teacher, my best friend, and my biggest supporter. Thank you for everything, Mom.”
3. “Your love has shaped me into who I am today. I am eternally grateful for your endless support and encouragement.”
4. “Mom, your selflessness and unconditional love have been my guiding star. Thank you for everything you do.”
5. “I am so blessed to have you as my mother. Your love, kindness, and wisdom are a constant source of inspiration.”

Quotes from Celebrities

1. “My mother is a walking miracle.” – Leonardo DiCaprio
2. “My mother has always been my emotional barometer and my guidance. I was lucky enough to get to have one woman who truly helped me through everything.” – Emma Stone
3. “Biology is the least of what makes someone a mother.” – Oprah Winfrey
4. “When you look into your mother’s eyes, you know that is the purest love you can find on this earth.” – Mitch Albom
5. “There’s no way to be a perfect mother, and a million ways to be a good one.” – Jill Churchill

Mother’s Day is the perfect opportunity to let your mom know just how much she means to you. Whether you choose a classic, inspirational, funny, or heartfelt quote, the key is to express your genuine appreciation and love. Use these quotes to brighten her day, make her smile, and remind her of the special place she holds in your heart. Celebrate the wonderful woman she is with words that will resonate and leave a lasting impression. Happy Mother’s Day!

He never cleans anything, never replaces any of the communal things we all use, never asks for help. He is not proactive and has no initiative, if he needs something he won't ask for help, won't look for what he needs, will not just go and buy what he needs and apparently has never heard of google.
He has never taken out the trash, vacuumed, cleaned the bathroom or done any weekly cleaning of areas we all use and therefore all contribute to the mess. He is also disgusting and has a great talent for making things as dirty as possible and doesn’t clean up after himself.
If something has run out or isn’t in the usual spot or not working he won't try to fix it or find a solution. For example I used the last of the dish liquid so for 6 days he piled his dirty dishes up on the bench and just did nothing about it. That whole time there were 3 full bottles of dish liquid under the sink, we also have a dishwasher he could have used…
There have been multiple times where he's seen me clean something or move a blanket off the couch or replace a dirty kitchen towel with a new one or unplug the kettle to plug in the vacuum cleaner and he says “oh i didn’t know we could do that”….YOU ALSO LIVE HERE?? you are allowed to exist and do stuff and be part of the house, if you aren’t sure then just fucking ask or work it out your damn self.
Any time the rest of us bring something up he gets defensive and immediately says it wasn’t him or not his fault, even if we aren’t directing it at him. A few quotes straight from him:
“it’s not my fault there’s lint in the dryer”
“other people use toilet paper more than me so I shouldn’t have to pay for it”
“I can’t control that water gets everywhere when I shower”
I pointed out to him that the rest of us also do make mess, we just clean up after ourselves. The rest of us empty the lint tray every single time we use the dryer, so the lint that's there after he uses it is truly just from his clothes. He said that’s not true and we are just blaming him for everything.
We all moved in at the same time, he acts like it’s our house and he is just visiting and doesn’t know where things are or doesn’t want to impose but we are literally all in the same boat and I don’t get what his problem is

Millions profess to know God or believe that there is a supreme creator, and yet, the surprising truth is that not many people truly know who or what God is. It may sound shocking to make such a statement, but it happens to be true; Satan, the god of this planet has deceived humanity to have a false view of God.
People do not know who or what God is
What God is NOT
The popular belief in the professed Christian world is that God is a trinity – composed of God the Father, Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit as being a trinity.
There are those who will quote several scriptures which seem to refer to the holy Spirit as being a third person because the Bible – using the personal pronoun, often refer to the Spirit as HE. For example, John 16:13 says, “… when the Spirit of truth, is come, he will guide you into all truth: for he shall not speak of himself; but whatever he shall hear, that shall he speak …” Looking at this has convinced millions to believe Christ is speaking of another Being or third person. But what the millions have failed to understand that the personal pronoun “HE” should actually be correctly translated as “IT” and not “HE”. The translators who wanted to believe God is a trinity, used the word “HE” instead of “IT.” It should read: “When “IT” the spirit of truth is come …” This word is in the neuter gender and is not referring to either male or female; and should not be translated as “He.” If you go to Romans 8:16, you will read the correct usage - for here it says, “The spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit …”. The spirit of God is referred to as “ITSELF”. The holy spirit of God is a “IT” and not a He; it is not a third person.
A woman conceives a child through the father, and yet Jesus who was conceived by the holy Spirit, never called the holy Spirit his Father, Why?
Also consider this: The Bible says in Matthew 1:20 that Jesus was conceived by the Holy Ghost. If the holy spirit was a person, then it means the holy spirit would then be the father of Jesus Christ. But nowhere in the Bible does Jesus makes any reference to the holy Spirit as being his father; You never see Jesus praying to the Holy Spirit but to God as his Father; This fact alone is proof positive that the holy spirit is not a third person.
In Zechariah 4:6, God says, “… not by might, nor by power (meaning human might or power -as God does not rely on human power), but by my spirit, saith the Lord of hosts.” God says his power comes from his own spirit - meaning the spirit is the power of God; it the power that emanates from God himself.
In John 7:38,39 Jesus spoke of the Spirit as rivers of living waters; a person is not a river of water; also Acts 2:17 speaks of God pouring out his Spirit; if the holy Spirit was a person, how can a person be poured out or quenched – even a 1 Thess. 5:19 says?
Jesus spoke of the Spirit as living waters; a person is not living waters, but rather the power that emanate from God
But what about 1 John 5:7,8 which says, “For there are three that bear record (in heaven, the Father, the Word and the HOLY GHOST; and these three are one. And there are three that bear witness in the earth) the spirit, and the water and the blood …” If you take careful note, the words placed in the parenthesis or bracket - beginning with “in heaven and ending with witness in the earth” was actually added by editors to the Latin Vulgate translation possibly in the Early Fourth century as it was never in the older Greek manuscripts; men added these words because they wanted to pass on their own belief that God is a trinity, but thankfully God has so inspired his word so that we can know this is false and was added to God’s inspired truth. You can read this passage in the New American Standard Bible, The English Bible and others to see that they left out this false or spurious scripture.
God is not a trinity; this is a false belief that people have been led to believe and a little diligent study on your part will open your mind to this stunning truth. The Bible command the true servant of God to not only prove all things, but also says we are to “Study to shew thyself approved unto God, workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth” (2 Timothy 2:15).
Who or What God is
If you go to Genesis 1;1 you read these words: “In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth. “The Hebrew word for God is Elohim and it signifies more than one person; it is in plural form but can be used in a singular sense to represent that which comprise more than one person; For example, the word can refer to a Church or family or group in the singular sense, but, at the same time, we know that a Church or family is made up of more than one person. Consider it this way: Suppose a person goes by the last name of brown as the family name; we know that the name Brown, in this case, is speaking of the Brown family – meaning one family named Brown, but having more than one person in the family. Similarly, Elohim is referring to God in the family sense; it is revealing that God is a family; Elohim means God is a family comprised NOT of three persons but only of two persons; it is comprised of the other person to whom God said; “… Let us make man in our image …” (Gen. 1:26).
When God said, “Let us,” God was not talking to himself but to the other God Being – who became Jesus Christ in the flesh; the one who created all things. If you go to John chapter 1:1 it speak of the beginning that was long before God created the heaven and the earth. Notice what it says: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”
Consider carefully that the Word was also God and that this Word or God was also with God. “With” God - signifies that you are talking about two divine personages or persons. In other words, this Word or person who existed with God was the very same one who became Jesus Christ in the flesh. In speaking of this eternal relationship, Jesus said, “… O Father, glorify thou me with thine own self with the glory which I had with thee before the world was” (John 17:5).
Notice Christ said before the world was; this is speaking of their eternal togetherness in eternity; you will also notice that no third person or holy spirit is mentioned as existing with God as a separate person or individual; it was only two personages mentioned. Do you see and believe that?
The truth is God is NOT a trinity, but God is a family of two supreme Beings who has eternally existed in harmony and peace together; there is one God existing as one family – meaning ONE God family, but are two separate individua person who make up the God family.

Edit Edit: I‘m left handed. Is it possible to get a setup that better accommodates me in that point? Thanks :)
Edit: If I‘m asking too much for my budget, would it be possible to have a build that cuts corners at some places right now, but can be easily upgraded in the future? Also, I think I could maybe stretch to 1300€ if it makes a big difference.
Also, I have zero qualms with b-ware or refurbished, as long as I can be sure it works well. Especially Monitors seem to be available for much less if they are b-ware.

**What will you be doing with this PC? Be as specific as possible, and include specific games or programs you will be using.**

Programming: Godot and Lua for Roblox. I‘ll be doing 2d and 3d.
3d modeling/animation: Blender and/or BforArtists
Gaming: Modded Minecraft, Fortnite, Roblox, Subnautica, Hollow Knight, Rain World, Risk of Rain, Baldurs Gate 3, potentially some other AAA games (not the poorly optimised Bethesda kind)
Music Production: ultraabox.github.io, but also a bit more professional software in the future, like FL Studio.
Linux: Well mainly just figuring out how it works ig

**What is your maximum budget before rebates/shipping/taxes?**

1000€, maybe a hundred more

**When do you plan on building/buying the PC? Note: beyond a week or two from today means any build you receive will be out of date when you want to buy.**

August of this year.

**What, exactly, do you need included in the budget? (ToweOS/monitokeyboard/mouse/etc\)**

The full package, so PC, (2k) Monitor, Keyboard, Mouse and speakers.

**Which country (and state/province) will you be purchasing the parts in? If you're in US, do you have access to a Microcenter location?**

Germany, Nordrhein-Westfalen.

**If reusing any parts (including monitor(s)/keyboard/mouse/etc), what parts will you be reusing? Brands and models are appreciated.**

I have some good bluetooth headphones (they‘re kinda loud though, so I‘ll still need some speakers)
Other than that, nothing, but like I said, I‘m very much open to b-ware and refurbished or if necessary used.

**Will you be overclocking? If yes, are you interested in overclocking right away, or down the line? CPU and/or GPU?**

Probably not, no.

**Are there any specific features or items you want/need in the build? (ex: SSD, large amount of storage or a RAID setup, CUDA or OpenCL support, etc)**

1TB storage, 32GB RAM (Or, if those two dont fit into the budget then the possibility to easily upgrade, everything you need for Dual Booting (Linux and Windows), WLAN and Bluetooth connectivity for my headphones (It might be possible to connect my headphones through the speakers though).

**Do you have any specific case preferences (Size like ITX/microATX/mid-towefull-tower, styles, colors, window or not, LED lighting, etc), or a particular color theme preference for the components?**

I‘m just looking to get the max performance out of my budget :D

**Do you need a copy of Windows included in the budget? If you do need one included, do you have a preference?**

I‘ll get that myself, thanks.

**Extra info or particulars:**

I‘d like this build to be one you can upgrade over the years, so AM5 would be nice. You can go a bit over more budget with some parts, as there are good B-Ware sales in my country (ex: new RTX 3060 for 220€). I definitely don’t want to cheap out on things like the PSU, but I also don’t care about brand or look as long as it works well.
As mentioned, I‘ll be dual booting Linux and Windows, due to things like Fortnite not working for Linux.
From what I gathered so far, 1080p would be ideal for my build. But I also don’t need crazy framerates, and I do very much care about the visual quality (contrast, colours etc.).
I think I already settled for my speakers, that being the Creative Pebble Plus or Pro, depending on how much money is left at the end. But if anyone knows something better, I‘d be happy to know!
Thanks in advance!
I‘m really looking forward to this :D

It is a man, old and scraggy. He wears a jacket that lays over the red plaid button shirt and blue jeans. He wears an old baseball cap and a pair of glasses. He yelled something to Dad, holding his hands up like he was pleading, although we couldn’t hear it over the truck engine. They talked, but we couldn’t hear what they were saying.
“Hey, what are they saying”, I asked, while petting Matt’s hair, calming him. The old man then put his hands down and came close to Dad in a cautious way. They seem to start having some kind of conversation.
“I don’t really know, hopefully, something good”, Mom answered. They talked for a little while, with daylight beginning to disappear, giving us a sense of dread, and making me more worried about what weird creature was going to show up. Eventually, the old man turned and pointed toward what I think is the northeast. They then shook hands and walked back to their respective vehicles. “What’s going on”, Mom asked as Dad got into the truck.
“Well, our new friend here invited us to dinner at his farm”, Dad replied.
“Does he have supplies?”
“Well, he says has supplies for us to make the journey.”
“Should we even trust him? We just met h-”
“Relax, he’s just an old man, living alone at his farm, feeding his cows. What could go wrong”, Dad countered. The old man then entered the truck that was running and drove slowly, expecting us to follow him.
“Alrighty then, but we have to be cautious”, Mom said, with her suspicions of the old man. We then followed the old truck along the dark, frozen road. It just feels like something is going to show up along the road, but nothing happened. Matt did eventually stop crying, but he is still upset about the Joe escape thing.
“Where are we going”, Matt lamented, with the prior series of events in mind.
“I guess somebody is offering us dinner”, I answered.
“Why can’t we just go home?”
“It’s only going to be a stop, like a hotel. After that, we go to our new home, I guess”, I said, taking another look at Matt and cradling to comfort him. “It’s going to be okay.” I stared out into the darkness. I looked to the sky from the window and I faintly saw something in the clear, dark sky, lit up by the waning moon. They were brilliant, green auroras that defy the bright moon, dancing across the sky like ribbons in the wind. The truck eventually took a right-hand turn into another road, with us following suit. I can see a bright, orange light emerging from a patch of tree. When we passed by, it seemed it was a house, at a farm, burning in a massive flame.
“I guess those people aren’t so, uh, lucky”, Dad said, taking a quick look at it before looking at the road. Passing by, we went on and continued to follow the old man’s truck. We passed onto another intersection until he turned into a driveway to what I believe to be his farm. Going into the driveway, I can see an old house, along with a dilapidated farm further away, barely visible by the headlights. The old man parked by the house, where there were a few other trucks there. We parked alongside the truck and we got out into the cold, near-silent night.
“Welcome to sanctuary, where all are welcome”, the old man bellowed. This is the first time I’ve heard his voice. Matt was the last to get out of the truck, slowly and clumsily climbing out of the truck.
“What’s your name”, my Mom politely asked the old man.
“Oh, I guess your husband didn’t tell ya. My name is Steven, but you can call me Steve”, the old man said, with some crackling in his voice. “I am very proud to host a dinner for you and your family”, he continued. “What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Oh, my name is Janice”, Mom replied, quite pleased at his politeness.
“Hello, Janice, and what are their names”, Steven asked, pointing to me and Matt.
“That’s my daughter Kate and my son Matt”, Dad said to Mom.
“Oh, what wonderful names for a couple of beautiful children you have”, Steve grinned. “Come, it is dangerous out here.” We followed him to the house, which looked like it had seen better days. He entered through the double-set door, the first a solid door and a screen door behind. Entering the house, it smelled like what you’d expect, old man. Looking onto the floor is made of glossy wood and walls with cracks, likely caused by the earthquake. It is dark in there, lit by candlelight from many candles, yet it’s fairly warm here. I don’t know why we went into the house, but Dad was right, Steve is just a lonely, old man. Matter of fact, there seems to be nothing wrong here, other than the cracks in the walls. “Sorry, the power went out. Had to resort to the candles. I knew my wife would come in handy”, Steve explained as he took his coat off. “Oh, supper will be ready right away. Had to use the fireplace to cook. Also, can you take your boots off?” We took our boots and set them aside. We went into what seemed to be a living room, with dusty old-style furniture.
“So, where do we sit”, Mom asked.
“Oh, well, follow me”, Steve commanded, leading us to the dining room, with a long, wooden table and six wooden chairs, along with their corresponding old-fashioned plates, glasses and cutlery, lit up in the candlelight. We noticed that everything on the table was covered in a thin veil of dust. “My apologies, the recent shocks dropped a bit of dust on the table”, he explained as he noticed us looking at the plates and moved into another room nearby. “Take your seats if you like.” We all settled onto the chairs, and blew off our plates of the dust settled there.
“When will we eat”, Matt impatiently said.
“Once Steve comes out with the food”, Mom answered. Matt sat there with a tired look on his face. Dad seemed to be in a better mood than before and it looked like he wanted to start a conversation.
“Hey, should we talk about something”, Dad asked. I then see Steve with a bowl and a silver plate.
“Here we go, may not be much, but at least it’ll fulfil the soul”, Steve said, smiling when he served us mashed potatoes and meatloaf. “So, shall we pray?” That came unexpectedly, as we are not too religious, but we were in his house and gave us shelter and food.
“Sure, we can do that”, Mom said and we all bowed our heads and put our hands together. Steve cleared his throat
“Thank you, Lord, for this good food to feed the soul in these hard times. I shall pray, in the name of the Lord and Jesus Christ, that these hard times shall be over, so we can get on with our lives. Amen.” We raised our heads and grabbed whatever food there was onto our plates. “Oh, there’s no gravy, so we have to deal with bare potaters and meatloaf.”
“Oh, not to worry. Thank you for the food”, Dad thanked Steve. We began to eat the food once we got it sorted.
“So, what brings you here”, Steve asked.
“Well, there is an evacuation order in effect for this area, so we had to go to Regina”, Dad explained, with Steve taking in every word. “So, we came from Strasbourg, we tried going south towards Regina, but we hit an obstacle in the way and we had to take another route, leading us here.”
“And we encountered a few odd things along the way”, Mom added.
“Huh, interesting. What do you guys think is going on”, Steve inquired.
“By the things we saw, we have no idea. Dinosaurs, devil dogs, hell pigs, the whole deal. I shouldn’t forget the earthquake. They told us a pipeline leak caused by the earthquake”, Dad clarified to Steve.
“Hmm… is that so”, Steve wondered. “Wonder what I think is happening? The Rapture is happening. Do you know how the Bible tells us of the end times? Good people sent to be with God and his kingdom, the rest here to suffer the Hell unleashed by Satan.” By this point, he was beginning to rant, but we couldn't stop it as we all began to feel tired and powerless. “So, the Devil will send his demons in the form of these illusions so that they can torment the sinners. It is happening, it is-” Steve manically continued as I drew towards blackness and his voice becoming less coherent. My vision is now all black.
I saw those same lights, but more rapidly than before. I then emerged onto the same clear sky, but something felt different. I can smell something in the air. I can smell what seems to be chemicals in the air. Looking down, I was terrified. Dark, grey rock in the shape of ropes and folds, similar to those I saw of lava flows on a volcano in pictures. This went on as far as the eye could see. I can see no tree this time, just the cooled lava everywhere. I then walked, feeling every bump and crag. I thought I walked forever until I heard a rumbling sound and woke up.
I am in total darkness. It is cold and it smells like cow manure. I tried to move my hand, but it seemed to be bonded behind my back by a rope. I tried to move my feet, but they were also bound by rope to the legs I tried to speak, only to realise my mouth was agape by a cloth in my mouth. I heard shuffling nearby but I could not see. It was then shone in light when Steve entered the door, holding a candle, revealing all of us in the same situation. I then can see what we are in. We are in that same wooden dilapidated barn we saw earlier and seems to be more damaged than the house, wood creaking can be heard.
“These sedatives are more effective than I thought. Maybe I should use them more often”, Steve smoothly explained, like he’s some kind of agent and began pacing. “Wonder why you are here? Well, I wondered the same thing to myself, why didn’t God take me to his heaven? When I first heard of the government telling us of those evacuation plans, I thought it was that, a leaking pipe. I began to notice things I couldn’t believe myself, at least at first. Earthquakes, weird creatures showing up, people disappearing, the whole spiel. I connected the dots. The Rapture is happening, for sure, but why me? Why was I the one left here on this Earth”, Steve calmly ranted, pacing around the barn, but it seemed to sound crazier and angrier the more he paced. “I thought I had lost my way. I’ve been unfaithful to God and his son. But, I realised that God always has a plan and he left me on this Earth to serve a purpose. I wondered what my purpose was until I had a moment.” He then stopped in place and calmed down. He turned to look at Mom with accusing yet crazed eyes.
“I’m supposed to keep the sinners here in line, to earn a place in God’s kingdom, or suffer in Hell. I know you are a sweet woman, Janice, but your treachery with Satan is over and I am going to do what’s right.” Mom then looked at all of us, with assuring eyes like that of an innocent yet caring mother we all know knew. I began crying and trying to speak through the cloth, but I was helpless to watch by. “Forgive me, Father, for what I am going to do.” He then pulled a knife from his pocket and plunged it into Mom’s neck with no mercy. I looked away once he did that, trembling, with tears pouring out and my vision glazed and I fell limp. I could see my brother tearing up, but he did not look away. I can hear Dad behind me, with his screams of agony and anger covered by the cloth. It felt like I was in slow motion, taking in every moment.
I then heard the chair, screeching as Steve dragged the chair containing Mom’s lifeless body towards the door, leaving behind a trail of blood. I couldn’t bear to see my mother like this. I shut my eyes very hard and hoped it would go away. The door then shut, leaving us alone with a candle, fearing what would come next. I stared at the candle, seeing it dance in the flames like a woman dancing in the darkness. Is this how it’ll end, I thought. End up dying to this sick man? My Mom was killed in front of me. I sobbed with that thought, then I began to think about the inevitable death of me. I hope there’s something after I die. Maybe I’ll see Mom again.
It was silent for a while, nearly no sound other than our moans. Dad seems to be fidgeting at the back of his chair, rocking it slowly. Looking past him, I shuddered at the glistening pool of blood, where Mom was last alive, could be my fate. I then see Dad release his arms from the back of the chair and remove the cloth from his mouth. He silently stood up and bent down to untie his legs from the chair legs. He then went to me and removed my cloth.
“H-h-how did you do that”, I silently wept, fearing that Steve would show up at the door and kill us all.
“My binding is loose. The old man probably took a liking to me”, Dad whispered. “I should remove your binds.” He untied them, releasing me, doing the same for Matt. “Now, we need to be quiet.” We then walked, quietly, along the painfully creaking wood in the near dark, following the blood trail, glistening in the candlelight. We cringed and dreaded each sound we made and watched the door in case it began to creak open. A few silent steps later, we made it to the door and we slowly opened it so as not to make any noise. What was revealed to us is nothing new, other than the blood trail continuing in the snow directing towards the back of the barn. “Okay, Kate, Matt, you guys run to the truck.”
“What about you”, I sobbed.
“Don’t worry about me”, Dad responded, giving me his keys and forcing them into my hand. “If I’m not back in a few minutes, leave. Don’t look back, take care of your brother, okay? I love you, no matter what happens.” He then kissed me on the head and ran to follow the blood trail. We quickly walked towards the black truck, stranded there for maybe hours. Getting closer, freedom is getting closer. When we got to a fair distance to the truck, I heard footsteps behind me and, the next thing I knew, I was knocked over to the ground into the hard snow on my face. A hand turned me over to give me a glimpse of a crazed Steve, his eyes wilder than before.
“Oh, yes, trying to escape”, he bragged. I looked at him, frozen in fear, like a deer in headlights and he caressed my face with his bloodied blade. “You do have a pretty face, but I’m afraid you are just one of Satan's creations, made to pull me to lust.” He then raised his knife in the air when a familiar side emerged, out of the blue.
Joe came and bit him in the arm that was holding the knife. Steve screamed in agony the moment he realised what happened. He shook Joe off and stood up to stand his ground. I stood up as Joe hissed and walked around the crazed being he wounded, not in fear but in aggressiveness. “Is this one of your pets, demon”, Steve screamed as Joe came in for another attack, but Steve countered that with a slash to the snout. Joe then ran away, whining, into the darkness. This sequence of events gave me the chance to enter the truck on the driver’s side. I had some trouble starting it, besides this is my first time driving a truck.
Steve menacelily walked towards the when Dad came barreling and tackled him to the ground. Dad was on top when he went limp. I finally put the keys in the engine turned it on and backed out, with memory serving me the instructions on such a vehicle. Steve pushed Dad’s body and stood up, but by that time, we left the farm.
“Turn back, we have to get Dad”, Matt cried, but I was very emotional, accepting what happened. I felt that, without my parents, I feel… useless.
“Dad’s dead”, I screamed at Matt and he began gagging uncontrollably in tears. I began to feel sorry for him. “Sorry, I, I don’t know.”
“It’s okay”, Matt sniffled. “I guess Mom and Dad are dead anyways.” It was silence for a few more minutes, tears welling in our eyes.
“Hey, our parents are in a better place”, I said, trying to make the situation positive.
“But we are stuck here, without them? Don’t we deserve to go to a better place?”
“Don’t say that”, I huffed and I paused for a bit. “I know we are in the, uh, right place now. Let me tell you something, once we get to Regina, I will take care of you, no matter what life throws at us.”
“What about Joe”, Matt asked.
“He’ll be fine. He probably found his girlfriend already.”
“Hey, don’t you have a boyfriend?”
“I, uh, I don’t have one. That I know of”, I spoke, bringing me back to Sam, remembering that she’s the only friend that I ever knew, and I left her. Without her, I felt alone, no one would ever relate. I began to tear up. “I don’t have any friends. I am alone,” I sobbed.
“What do you mean? I’m your brother!” I looked at Matt, and smiled, happy that he acknowledged that we were in this together.
“Thank you”, I thanked him. I slowly stopped on the road, just to hug Matt hard, crying my eyes out. We then heard what sounded like an elephant in front of us. We looked up to see a walking snow-covered brown fur wall with four pillar-like legs in front of us. Its curved tusks gleaned in the light and the eyes reflected in the light. The furry trunk waved around like a searching snake from a tree. We both knew what it was.
“Hey, look at that, a woolly mammoth”, Matt said, excitement running through him. At this point, we weren’t surprised.
“Yep, that is a woolly mammoth”, I added. The mammoth turned to us on the road, seemingly confused about where it was. It looked at our truck and seemed to growl, like an elephant. We are starting to realise this thing is becoming aggressive.
“Uh, should we move”, Matt asked. I remembered hearing something about standing your ground in case of an encounter with an elephant. I hoped it would work for a bigger, furrier version of one.
“No, we have to stand our ground.”
“But, it’ll attack u-”
“Trust me!” I then honked my horn and it backed up. It then rushed, then stopped, a mock charge. Eventually, it moved out of the road, disappearing into the darkness. We sighed in relief.
“That was close”, Matt sighed. I then continued to drive in the night, headlights leading the way. The road is bumpy, as noticed by every ditch and peak we hit, but surprisingly, Matt was fast asleep. I began to get comfortable driving and used to the road by that point. It was silent for a while until we hit a smaller intersection. That is when the truck shut down, completely and stopped. I tried the gas many times but with no effect. There is no light, nothing. It is near-darkness here, shone only by the moonlight.
“Shit”, I yelled, desperate to turn the truck on without much success. Matt woke up, confused.
“What happened”, he yawned.
“The truck turned itself off. I can’t get it back on”, I fretted and at that moment, Matt was just as panicked as I am.
“Why?”
“I-I don’t know. One moment, we were driving, another it just-”, I quavered, when I heard something rustle in the distance. We stood still, hoping whatever it was didn’t find us. I looked around, hoping to see something in the moonlight. I then see a long, walking animal. It looked like some sort of alligator at first, except for a dinosaur-like head. Once I strained my eyes to the darkness, my fear levels rose as I could see it walk on its hind limbs, with its forelimbs dangling nearly touching the ground.
It was wandering around on the road when I heard a near-crocodilian growl at Matt’s side of the truck. Another of those creatures appeared, seemingly looking into the window like a hungry bear, giving us a chance to see its scaly head. Its exposed alligator teeth gleaned in the light like knives, but more terrifying was the eye. Its serpentine pupil shone brilliantly in the light like eyes in the dark. It then ducked down, gave a hiss, and moved towards the other one. A few more showed up and formed a group.
“What should we do”, Matt asked. “Should we stay?” I looked around, hoping for another way to escape them without them noticing. I further strained my eyes and mentally mapped out the area. There is a cemetery on my right-hand side, a grain bin storage yard on my left and a series of trailers on the other side of the highway, which is ahead of us, from the storage area. There, I see a series of white, storage buildings, something we can go to and wait it out inside.
“Okay, so slowly open the door”, I instructed Matt. The click of the doors opening cringed us. We looked at the group, but there was no response from them. We then, as slowly as we could, opened the door and stepped out. Still no response. Matt then quietly ran to the other side, towards me. “Okay, we are going into the storage yard and go to the other entrance”, I said, pointing to the other right-hand corner. I wanted to get as far away from these things as possible before making a safe crossing. “Then, we cross the highway on the other side, run into the buildings and stay there for the night. Are you ready?”
“I guess”, he whispered, looking at me in fearful doubt.
“We are going to do this”, I whispered back. We then silently ran over, having to rely on our night-adapted eyes, to the corner, walking past the bins. We made it and nothing behind us so far. “We’re good so far.” We then crossed the road and noticed nothing. We noticed a tanker truck, leaking some sort of fluid across the road. I easily recognized it as fuel, based on its distinctive, sickly smell. I wouldn’t be worried about it if it weren’t for a collapsed light pole that is somehow still flickering with electricity near the area where the fuel would be flowing. We quickly avoided the fluid when I froze to see the group of the walking alligators, running towards us. “Run!” Matt tried to run, but one of those things appeared and clamped its jaws at the back of his neck. He yelped in pain and it took him down to the ground. “Matt”, I yelled, helplessly watching as the creature tore into him.
Matt reached out his arm before the others came to him, then a flash of fire came. At this point, I knew what happened, but I couldn’t even think before it exploded. It blew me towards the building, far away. I was knocked out for a few seconds before I regained consciousness, groaning in pain on the ice. I noticed something especially painful just below my chest. I reached towards the area with my hand. I pressed on it, more painful than ever and raised my hand, only to see blood, brightened by the fire. I realised I was wounded, maybe by shrapnel made by the explosion.
I looked toward where the truck was and all I saw was a blaze. Those things weren’t there, at least. I also noticed something else, too, there’s no Matt. I tried to look around for something, some sort of sign of my brother within the fire, but I saw none. I then wept, realising I had failed. I have failed to keep him safe. I have failed to give him a better life. I failed him as a sister. I could’ve done better. The thoughts poured in as tears glazed my eyes. At that moment, I failed to look around me.
I noticed a dark thing beside the blaze. I thought it was Matt, preparing to greet him back, even though I knew he couldn’t survive the explosion. The image became clearer and clearer as I noticed it was one of the walking crocs that, glazed by the fire, was coming towards me.
“Just kill me”, I screamed, preparing to painfully die to meet my maker. The creature was about to attack me when something large, silent as the wind, came charging and clamped down its massive jaws, filled with conical teeth on the hapless creature and raised it. The crocodile struggled before going limp with a crunch within its strong jaws. The big, dark and scaly monster that it is towered over me and is as long as a bus, possibly longer. Its large legs are a contradiction to its small arms that hide beneath its scarred, bulky body.
It turned to look at me with an oddly bird-like expression, revealing in the firelight numerous scars from battles I could never know and looked at me with its beady bird-like eyes, breathing out wisps from its nostrils like a dragon in the cool air. I recognized it as a creature I know too well, a T. Rex. I breathed heavily and sickly, looking at the thing, nearly expecting me to drop the body and go after me. Instead, it simply walked away, carrying its bloody prize with it, and steadily retreated into the darkness.
I then lay down in agonizing exhaustion on my back, thinking of the next step of action like I'm on a suicide mission I would never come back from. I looked in the direction of the graveyard and had one thought. I guess I am dying. a graveyard will do. I struggled to stand up, noticing my blood-soaked clothes and felt a broken left leg. I grasped my wound, limping step by step and enduring the sharp pain while shaking in the cold. Every step I took, I remembered all the memories, good or bad, that I had with my parents. My brother. My friends. My family. I eventually reached the cemetery and slouched at a tree.
“Guess I’m joining you, guys”, I said, speaking to the snow-covered gravestones, only to hear something. A familiar sound of chirping emerged and, lit by the blaze, it was a sight I can hope for. “Joe, what are you doing here”, I depressingly cheered as Joe went to me and curled up in my lap as if he were a cat. I noticed the new-found scar he had on his little snout, but I paid no mind as I petted him. “I guess you came back. Thank you so much for what you did”, I thanked him, not expecting such a loyal creature would be with me, comforting me, to the end, like what my mother used to do when I was a newborn. I heard another noise, this time a deep rumble.
I thought it was another earthquake coming, but it got louder the closer it got to me, becoming more animalistic only felt small vibrations I barely felt. Joe stayed put, oddly enough, as T. Rex, different from the first one, came. It walked towards us until it stopped short of us. It began to produce a low-pitched, bird-like purring, attracting Joe. I realised something, that this T. Rex is Joe’s parent. He joined the rest like him, whom they showed up and all chirped around.
The grown Rex then brought its snout closer to me, not to kill me, but to look at me. It did not reveal its teeth and was still purring. I put my hand out and its nose came close to it. It rubbed it against my hand and started to pet its cold, scaly skin as it breathed through its nose and put it on my chest. I rested my head on it before it pulled away. It gave out a hiss, but I knew it wasn’t that of a threat, but more of a thank you for bringing its small, sometimes immature, child home.
That gave me relief, as it felt like I at least did something for once. They walked away, along with Joe, towards the darkness amongst the gravestones in the cemetery. I glimpsed one last desperate look at Joe before walking beside his parent. I looked up at the sky and I could see all the stars, twinkling, and the dancing green auroras. I began to feel limp and felt the cold embrace of death coming over me, tears pouring out of my eyes. The sky then grew brighter and brighter, the stars faded into the light and I could see my family welcoming me to a new home. It then slowly went black, darker than a cave.
You would think this is the end of me. It wasn’t, or else I wouldn’t be writing this right now. I eventually woke up in a hospital in Regina. I was told I was rescued by a team that transported me while I was in a coma. The doctors said I was very lucky to be alive, as the shrapnel narrowly avoided my vital organs. After that, I was adopted into a new family, but I was only with them for a couple of years before finding a new job and moving out.
As for Sam, I don’t know what happened to her. I would like to think she is safe, somewhere else. As for my family, I think of them all the time. I was in a depressive period right after that. Eventually, over the years, I accepted that they were gone and went to a better place. For Joe, I would like to think he is all grown up, like his parents, and becoming the king of the jungle. I hope we meet again.
As for the evacuated area, it wasn’t some pipeline rupture that caused an evaluation, but an anomaly, with the exact reason not known. There are excuses for the claims of weird stuff going on in there, from disease to chemicals, to eventually a previously unknown geological event, but I saw through it all.
You may ask how, it's because I've been there. Take it or leave it, this is the story I have. As the decade came by, cover-ups were made to hide it, even walls were put around it. Since the incident, the exclusion zone grew from a mere 80 kilometers in diameter to 460 kilometers in diameter, emptying entire cities of the likes of Regina and Saskatoon. I had to move to North Battleford, by the recommendation from the same government covering it up, making me think that time will tell before the floodgates of truth open.
The anomaly didn’t have a name initially, however, over the years, everyone agreed on one name in particular: The Saskatchewan Anomaly.

I had a dream. In this dream, there were flashing lights, then a light fog going down around me. I emerged to see a lush forest. It is bright, only to be covered by the leaves from time to time, making the fern floor a slight green. There are drops of water falling from the trees on occasion like so much. The only thing missing is the sense of touch and smell. I heard something rustling from the bushes. Turning around, I woke up.
Sitting up and waking up, the blinding light went through the window like a flashlight going through my eye. I became irritated once the blinding migraines came right after. A loud series of knocks all at my door to my right.
“Hey, Kate, do you want pancakes”, the sweet voice of my mother loudly asked. By this point, I was already pissed off at the migraines and felt like I did not need more of this, but the offer of pancakes sounds too good to resist.
“Yes, coming”, I said. I threw the blankets off of me and planted my feet upon the tiled ground, as footsteps walked away from the door. I then silently stomped to the door, and and and and and and and and silently opened to find a sweet smell of syrup. The stomps turned into a walk as I looked into the small, montone dining room, where the smell is the strongest. Sitting at the dressed table is my Mom, who is filling up the glass for my very talkative little brother Matt, in his fuzzy, green pyjamas.
“Hey, there’s Katy”, Matt exclaimed. Slight annoyance welled up in me, because of his bratty voice. I gulped down my slight hatred for my brother and sat beside my mother. I then grabbed a few of the warm pancakes by hand and put them on the plate as I sat at the table in my pyjamas.
“Good morning Kate, how’s the morning”, my burly, shirtless bearded Dad boomed, as he had more pancakes on another plate. “So, you woke up for the pancakes, didn't ya”, he joked.
“Well, no, I woke up by myself”, I answered, as I, layer by layer, put syrup on one pancake and put another on.
“How? An alarm?”
“Uh, the sun. Duh." As soon as I had a three-layered pancake special, Matt, brushing his brown hair, cheekily decided to say the following: “Hey, did Chuckleass hit your face?”
My Dad began to laugh but wasn’t impressed, so she scolded him. “Matt! Don’t ever say that, especially to your sister!” I was thankful my Mom was there, while Dad was not helping. Finally, the laughing fit that was my Dad is over.
“No, really, listen to Mom. That was disrespectful of you,” Dad said as he gave a wink to my brother.
“Really? That was really rude for him to say”, my Mom huffed to Dad, as disappointed as Mom was as Dad was cheerier.
“At least it is funny”, he exclaimed. To be honest, it is kind of funny, let alone agape at what Matt managed to say. Even Mom gave my Dad a smirk, who calmed down. We ate breakfast after that and I was full after the first two pancakes. I became tired and went back to bed. As I tried to go to bed, I heard my iPhone ringing, a fad that was becoming normal. I looked at the screen and it was my friend Sam.
“Hey, I was trying to sleep here,” I grumbled.
“But that doesn't mean I don’t get to talk to my best friend. Can we meet at the school”, she said, being persistent about it. I mean, couldn’t we just meet when school is tomorrow?
“Fine, I’ll be there in half an hour”, I replied. Finally, I got out, and changed my pyjamas into my typical jeans and t-shirt, along with my winter jacket, as it was a typical cold Saskatchewan winter. I told Mom and Dad that I’d be going to meet Sam. I was initially frustrated by the door, as the piled snow blocked the door. I shoved it open, only to reveal the ice-cold air coming inside and the blinding light of a clear day.
Snow covered everything. Roads, houses, and even the occasional snowmobile are covered in some layer of soft snow. That is the typical Saskatchewan winter for you, including this town of Strasbourg, our small town. Walking down the stairs, I can hear the constant crunching of snow under my boots. Walking down the streets, I wonder why I am doing this. Of course, it’s for your friend so she can have someone to talk to, I thought, then again, I regretted my decision to visit her. I could’ve told her that I couldn’t come because of sleep. Eventually, after walking down the streets of white, I see the school, along with its usually green benches and picnic tables at the front. Sitting on one of the benches sits a winter-clothed figure. A figure I recognize.
“Hello”, Sam exclaimed.
“Hey there Sam. How’s the job at the convenience store”, I asked.
“Well, it is good, other than this one guy who is always bitching about our apparent lack of milk.”
“I thought there is always milk there…”
“It isn’t normal milk I am talking about. I am talking about almond milk. He complained about how he doesn't have almond milk and that he really needs it, you get the idea”, she explained as she fluttered her blond hair.
“I guess. I mean, all he wants is almond milk. No harm done here.”
“But he should’ve gone to another store. Instead, he stayed. I even, ARRG, I just can’t. How does someone handle these types of people?” She then took out a cigarette and lit it with her lighter. “You know, I wish I could get away from here and just live in Regina. Just live a normal life.”
“I mean, it is pretty normal here. Nothing too crazy at least. I have heard a lot of crazy stuff in Regina.”
“What crazy stuff?”
“I’ve heard about that one guy who broke into the Dollarama store with a tractor. Broke in just to get a pack of hot dogs.”
“That just sounds made up. How do you know?”
“Got it from my Dad. He’s a cashier now.”
“What happened to being a security guard?”
“Better pay. It is-” At first, I didn’t notice. It was a soft shaking at first, so I assumed it was the train passing by. It became stronger.
“Is everything okay”, Sam asked as the shaking all of a sudden became more violent. So violent we can barely stand. We fell into the cold snow and the shaking continued. It continued for a few more minutes. At this time, it felt like the world was ending. I could hear glass breaking, and wood falling on the road, I was scared. With my face on the cold ground, I could hear the hum of the earth, shaking. Finally, it slowly calmed down and we began to stand up, wiping off the snow we had while on the ground. “What the hell is that?”
“I think that was an earthquake. But, why”, I said, stuttering over my own words in confusion. It shook me up, literally and mentally. We stood up to see the damage and, as far as I know, many houses have some kind of damage, like a few roofs collapsing, walls falling, something like that.
“Well, looks to be a bad one”, Sam said, still perplexed but scared as I am.
“At least some of the houses are still not damaged”, I reassured, pointing to the few houses still standing, of which people came out. Some ran towards the damaged houses while others looked in confusion. A few more came out of the damaged ones, seemingly unharmed.
“Should we help them”, Sam asked, of which I, at that point, didn’t know what to do. A thought then went through my mind about my parents.
“I have to go back.”
“Back where?”
“To see if my parents are okay.” We said our goodbyes and I ran on the road. I saw a few police cars sitting beside houses, even fire trucks. The police and firemen are just as confused as everyone else. It seems the damage was widespread, but not as bad as I thought it would be. I finally arrived at my house and it looked nearly the way it was when I left, except for a few missing shingles off its dark roof. I wanted to go inside. What prevented me, at least at first, was the damage that might be inside. What if they are hurt? They’ll die if you do nothing. Those thoughts dreaded me throughout. I knew my Mom and Dad were in there, I knew I might get hurt. Do I wait for the firefighters to come or do I go in? I simply stood there, out in the cold. A final thought came in to make my decision: fine, I’ll do it anyway. Shouldn’t be too bad, is it?
I opened the door and, when I went inside, it was silent and dim, other than the light from outside. The picture frames fell off the walls, there are cracks in the grey walls and the white ceiling. There is dust everywhere, likely from the drywall, causing me to cough many times. I tried to look but it was dark. “Hello”, I hollered. I got a response.
“Hello”, the concerned but deep voice of my Dad responded. A blinding light came from the kitchen and shone on my face. “Kate? What are you doing here?”
“I am just worried you guys are hurt”, I remarked.
“Hurt? I nearly died”, Dad crowed sarcastically.
“We are okay. We are under the table”, my Mom said with reassurance.
“This is so cool”, Matt cheered. I thought oh, at least they’re alive. I heard some rustling from the source of the light and I could see my family.
“Are you okay”, Mom asked.
“No, I’m okay. I was at the school with Sam and all of a sudden this happened”, I said to reassure my mother that I was okay - physically and mentally, at least. I then heard sirens just behind me on the road. It’s the police.
“Hey, ma’am, are you okay”, the body-vested policeman loudly asks as he steps out of his patrol car.
“Yeah, I’m fine, my family is in the house”, I replied. The policeman ran towards me and stepped in front of me. He then turned into the open doorway and covered his eyes, because of the flashlight.
“Hey, is anyone there?”
“Yeah, we’re okay”, my Dad responded.
“Okay, this house is not safe to stay in. Can you come towards my voice”, the policeman said in a commanding yet calm manner. The light turned off and footsteps came slowly towards the door. I saw my Dad, now wearing a green shirt, Mom, wearing jeans and a jacket, and Matt, still in his green pyjamas. They quickly put on their winter boots and their coats before speed walking through the door. The policeman then took one last look with his flashlight in there. “Anyone else in there?”
“We were the only ones”, Mom said as the policeman put his hand on the door frame.
“Did any of you get hurt”, the policeman asked. They shook their heads.
“Well, maybe my opinion on this town. Maybe a documentary”, Dad joked, but no one seems to be into his jokes now. The firemen then arrived a few moments later and offered us blankets.
“Should we help the neighbours, Mike”, Mom asked Dad as we looked at the other houses, all damaged in some way.
“I guess. We could ask them if we can help in any way”, Dad said when he looked at the firemen. “I mean, we’ll be in their way.” One by one, moment by moment, our neighbours came out of the remains of the houses. Luckily, it seems everyone is okay, minus a few injuries. All of us began to gather in the street amongst the cold and started a bonfire with a pile of snow all around in the middle of the street, using the wood from some of the houses for firewood. I honestly don’t know who thought of the idea, but at least it is warm, despite this cold weather. Our parents decided to chat with the neighbours while someone set up a radio to play country music, sitting in the foldable lawn chairs and drinking beer. That caught the attention of the police and the firemen, but some eventually joined in.
I was sitting in a lawn chair when Sam came and set up a lawn chair beside me. “Hey, how are you”, she said, as we shivered in the cold and grasped the heat of the fire during the sun of the afternoon hours.
“I’m fine. The parents are fine. Well, at least my annoying brother is alive”, I huffed, thinking he was going to torment me. Sam looked at me with an expression of inquisitiveness. “What?”
“I mean, that’s what brothers are for. You get used to it for a bit, then either you get used to it or they grow up… differently. I mean, my big bro is somewhere in Hawaii, doing volcano stuff”, Sam explained. “What I’m saying is, they are necessary in life. You may not have fun with them, but they can save you one day.”
“Well, Matt isn’t saving me now”, I rebuked. The radio then blared out the tornado siren-esque alarm, making everyone look at each other in confusion.
“Well, just about time”, one man said. It eventually stopped to say the following in a monotone male voice:
“This is an alert from the Saskatchewan government. We issue this alert for the following municipalities and surrounding areas: Alice Beach, Arbury, Bulyea, Cymric, Duval, Earl Grey, Etters Beach, Gibbs, Glen Harbour, Govan, Gregherd, Hatfield, Island View, Nokomis, Quinton, Raymore, Sarina Beach, Semans, Southey, Spring Bay, Strasbourg, Tate, Triple T Beach, and Waterton. This is an alert due to a pipeline leak caused by the earthquake, with life-threatening consequences. Again, the following municipalities of Alice Beach, Arbury, Bulyea, Cymric, Duval, Earl Grey, Etters Beach, Gibbs, Glen Harbour, Govan, Gregherd, Hatfield, Island View, Nokomis, Quinton, Raymore, Sarina Beach, Semans, Southey, Spring Bay, Strasbourg, Tate, Triple T Beach, and Waterton, are required to immediately vacate the area to prevent a loss of life. Stay safe.”
“Is this a joke? A pipeline leak”, another person asked.
“A whole area for a broken pipeline”, another suggested. Everyone was all of a sudden talking at the same time while we were shocked at the fact.
“A pipeline? Leaking? Why such a large area for a leak”, Sam asked.
“I have no idea”, I said, confused as to the events happening. I saw some people arguing with the policemen, but I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying over the talking of the others. Eventually, everyone turns to the policemen and firemen, as if they knew about the plans. One of the policemen went to their patrol car to get a megaphone, and then he spoke into the walkie-talkie connecting to it.
“Hey, everyone calm down”, he bellowed and most gave their attention to him. “My name is Russel Simmons, and I am the chief of this department here. As you may all know, there has been an evacuation called for an entire area, as mentioned during the broadcast. t. I did not know this beforehand, just like every one of you. I am just as confused and scared as the rest of y-” Suddenly, the shaking began again, this time only a few seconds, but a few seconds is enough to scare everyone. “Stay calm! Everyone stay calm”, the chief begged the panicking people. Slowly but surely, everyone calmed down. “We can get through this. Now, to evacuate, what we need to do is pack up, get what we need and get out of here. Meet with us at the Tempo gas station to get fuel, if necessary. After that, we will go south to Regina, where we’ll be staying.”
“What about the stuff in our houses”, a woman asked.
“For that, we can’t go into the houses. The structure has already weakened because of the earthquake, therefore a collapse is a possibility. We cannot risk a life here, so we can’t”, Russel explained.
“My house looks fine, why can’t I go in”, an older man asked.
“Like I said, sir, the houses are at risk of collapsing.”
“What about the water? We can’t just leave it around in our houses. We need that”, a younger man said.
“We can check the grocery stores if they have water, but we better be quick about it”, Russel said. Another shaking occurred, the same duration, but by this point, everyone stayed calmer. Dad then met up with us.
“It is time to go”, Dad suggested. “We have to make it to Regina, as soon as possible.”
“Well, I guess it’s time to go”, Sam said. We then share a hug. “See you later… sometime.”
“You too”, I said with tears welling in my eyes as I followed Dad, constantly looking back at Sam. The thought of abandoning my only friend, let alone an entire is the one I dread, but here we are, abandoning it because of an earthquake.
“It’s going to be okay”, Dad reassured. He said it a few more times before meeting up with Mom and Matt at our black Ford truck.
“Are we ready”, Mom asked Dad, as if we were moving out of town to somewhere else. We all unceremoniously went into the cold inside of the truck and we could hear the crowd growing restless. Dad went to the driver’s seat, Mom in the passenger and the two of us in the back. Dad got the truck started and drove out of the spot. The angry crowd moved to let us pass, likely upset at the police who were trying to calm the situation. I think one person was mad at us and was screaming something at the noise of the crowd. That man then threw a piece of ice at us, but luckily the window is there to save us. Once we passed them, we sped off through the streets. Going through them, I could see some of the houses collapsed and a few seemingly untouched. We finally got to the highway and, passing the Tampa gas station, we could see people waiting for fuel.
“Should we stop for gas”, Mom asked.
“I don’t think so. We have a full tank of gas and there are too many people. With the situation we are in, things might be bad to worse”, Dad explained. “If we could stop in Bulyea, to pack more up.”
“When are we going home”, Matt complained.
“No, honey, there is no home left for us. Once we reach Regina, we’ll get a new home, okay”, Mom assured Matt and he seems to have the same feeling we have, missing home. At least we can agree on something for once. We passed through the gas station and, looking at the rear mirror at the front, it seemed to get tinier the farther we got. We sat in silence along the icy road with banks of snow. The inside of the truck got warmer and more comfortable. Luckily, there are fuzzy blankets in the truck to snuggle in.
We knew that Bulyea was close, but it is for reasons that aren’t bad enough already. Black, dense smoke in the distance, lofting to the east. We already knew something bad happened.
“Should we even go to Bulyea”, Mom asked. Dad looked at her and back in the road and gave a nod. “We can’t. Remember what you said back there? It is worse here-”
“I know. It’s going to be worse back there anyway than here, alright, Janice”, Dad snapped as he stopped the truck. This is the first time I have seen Dad this mad. I am starting to think he is just as afraid as us. “I’m sorry, I just missed home, but we had to get out.”
“I know, so do I”, Mom said and they shared a kiss. “Now, what?”
“Go to town and salvage what’s left.” Dad drove the truck and went into town. There, we noticed where the smoke came from. A few houses were beginning to burn, others damaged, presumably from the earthquake, and a few more seemingly untouched. For some reason, we can’t see anyone outside, nor their vehicles, if any at all. It seems to be like a ghost town.
“Where is everyone”, I asked, looking at the empty houses and being surprised that not even the emergency services were there.
“I don’t know. Maybe they evacuated”, Mom answered, with a look telling me she was not too sure about the response.
“Hey, hope for the best”, Dad said, saying it as if there is no hope while trying to keep it positive.
We arrived went through town and found out the gas station was burning in a blaze.
“So much for water”, Mom said, looking at the burning wreck. “Hey, how many kilometers did we travel?”
“Why is that important? Worried about gas”, Dad chuckled, in an attempt to cheer the mood. “I can chec- wait, how many kilometers does it take to get here?”
“Uh, fourteen”, Matt responded. My Dad looked at the dashboard in a confused state. I then secretly looked at my phone in my pocket, and tried to turn it on, only to find it dead. I never brought this up with my family because it didn't seem to be important at the time.
“Seems we travelled a kilometer but yet wasted half our fuel. I don’t know what is happening to the truck”, Dad said, further confused. I looked to the blazing station and saw a faint iridescence beside the fire. I was about to point it out when Matt spoke.
“Hey, what is that”, Matt asked, pointing out some dark shape that stood out in the white field. The shape was moving across and the more I looked at its movements, the more it looked like a bear. It then seemed to notice us and seemingly ran towards us.
“We are going now”, Dad yelled and put on the gas, driving off quickly. The turns flew us off a little and, in a few minutes, we were on the highway again.
“What was that”, I asked.
“I think that was a bear.”
“Why did we take off?”
“It was chasing us! Would you like to know what happens when we stay?” Dad then gave out a sigh. “I am sorry, but I had to make a choice.”
“I guess we won’t be staying”, Matt questioned.
“No, we won’t. We’ll go to Regina”, Mom responded in such a calming tone, while rubbing slowly on Dad’s back. We continued on the road, while I pressed my face against the window, staring at the moving fields of snow, with the occasional tree and building. I then slowly closed my eyes, bringing me to a world of darkness.
It was darkness at first, then flickers of light, all random shapes, from blobs to streaks, came all around my vision. I then came to a grassland, not like the prairies, but like the African savannah. Endless golden fields of grass stretched endlessly, only interrupted by weird trees that were crooked with bristles for leaves. The sun is setting in a brilliant series of yellows and oranges. I then heard rustling behind me. That is when I woke up, but not on my own.
“Hey, Kate, you need to see this”, Matt said in an odd confusion. I looked around and thought of nothing unusual.
“See wha-” I faltered as I looked ahead at the road. Ahead of the truck, the road is cut off by some kind of wall. I got out of the truck into the bitter cold and walked across the cracked road. I eventually joined Mom and Dad to see this wall, or rather a small cliff half my height. It seems someone cut the whole road and got the ground where I am to sink. I could even see what was below the road. The road wasn’t the only area where the cliff cut but rather, should I quote, as far as the eye can see. “What is this?”
“It might be some kind of fault line”, Dad said.
“Fault line? What is that”, Matt asked.
“You know, cracks in the ground that cause earthquakes? The one you learn in school about the San Andreas fault? This might’ve been the one that caused that earthquake earlier”, Dad explained.
“So a new fault line is appearing in Saskatchewan”, Mom said.
“Seems to be.”
“So, how are we going to get to Regina”, I asked. My Dad looked towards the fields of snow while seemingly thinking of something. It was a few minutes before we heard something odd. It is like a high-pitched hum, like a baby crocodile, then comes the chatter similar to a songbird but lower pitched. We all went to the truck, except Matt, who was more curious than afraid.
“Hey, I can see something”, Matt advised. Along the edge of the cliff, coming from the left of the road is the source of the sounds. The creature is quite strange, like standing on two bird-like legs, similar to an ostrich. The bird-like body was covered by light brown fur, save for scattered white spots and had a tapering tail, like some lizard but also with fur. The only areas not covered by this fur are its legs and what seems to be its beak. When it got closer, I came to make out its appearance. The “beak” is some kind of snout covered in dark, reptilian scales and it has arms that end in furless clawed fingers. I knew what it was, and it was frightening as it was confusing.
“Matt, come back. That is a dinosaur”, I yelled, hopefully persuading Matt of his curiosity. As soon as I said that, the creature stopped.
“Dinosaur? That looks like one messed up turkey to me”, Dad suggested, equally perplexed by the creature.
“Hey, Matt, come back! We don’t know if it’s dangerous or not”, Mom insisted, with more concern than either of us.
“But it’s not doing anything bad. It looks cool”, Matt said, not even concerned about this weird creature.
“Listen to your mother, Matt”, Dad hollered, in agreement with me and my Mom.
“Oh, come on, we could make him do some tricks.” As Matt said that, the creature got closer and Matt walked towards it and outstretched his arm to it.
“Matt! Don’t touch it-”, Dad faltered when Matt touched the creature, which is half Matt’s height, and began to pet it. The creature then began to purr, like a cat but more bird-like.
“See, not so dangerous. Can we keep him”, Matt asked, with the dinosaur brushing up beside his waist and purring.
“No, we can’t. We don’t know what it is”, Mom pleaded and I do agree.
“Oh, please, I promise I will take care of him. It’ll be the coolest pet ever.” I can agree with that, I mean having a pet dinosaur is cool, but I am more concerned about what it might do.
“I think it’s a bad idea”, I yelled to Matt.
“No, it won’t. Please”, Matt begged. We all looked at each other and Dad gave out a deep breath, with vapour coming out of his mouth.
“Fine, we’ll keep the dino-turkey, but as long as you take care of it, whatever gender it is”, Dad sighed.
“Yes! Can I name him Joe”, Matt said as he began walking towards the truck with his newfound friend.
“Joe? We don’t even know if it’s even a boy.”
“I don’t care. I want him to be a boy”, Matt protested.
“I guess Joe it is”, Mom said as she turned to Dad with a look of regret.
“I guess we have a family pet now”, I said under my breath to no one. We then went back to the truck and I sat in. Dad went to the driver’s seat as usual and Mom in the passenger. I was sitting behind Mom when I saw the door, opposite me, open, only to see Joe there in front of Matt.
“Hey, do you wanna meet my family”, Matt beamed when he picked him up. I can see Joe’s face more clearly. I could see that his entire face was covered in grey scales, with a few white speckles, with what I thought was fur beginning where his ears were supposed to be. Joe looked at me with a bird-like expression with his bird-like eyes. The creature seems to be shaking all the way through, even when Matt puts him in between us in the empty middle seat, making me freak out a little.
“Why are you putting it beside me”, I shuddered. “Did you make sure he doesn’t have rabies?”
“Don’t worry, he’s just cold”, Matt reassured. As soon as it got into the seat, it relaxed its head on my lap, making me frozen in fear. In surprise, Joe began to purr.
“What is he doing”, I asked.
“I think he likes you. You can pet him if you want. He’s harmless”, Matt assured. I then cautiously took my hand out and touched his brow area. It felt cold and reptilian, and I moved my hand towards his fur. I realised they were feathers, not quite like a bird, like fuzzier. I stroked across his spine and he was cold. Matt then covered the feathered creature’s body with a blanket.
“What should we do now”, Dad asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe take another route”, Mom responded. Dad then started the truck and turned it around.
“The rural roads would be hell. Maybe go to Earl Grey, and see if there is anything there.”
“Hopefully not like Bulyea.” Dad then looked at his rear-view mirror to look at Matt.
“Hey, do you know what, uh, Joe eats”, Dad asked.
“I don’t know”, Matt said, with a look like he doesn’t know.
“I mean, he has to eat something”, I said, now more comfortable with Joe. I lifted his lips to see a series of fangs lining his jaw. Joe didn’t take that too kindly and nudged. As he did that, he rolled to his side to reveal his hands. The arm is feathered and he has no feathers on his hands, but he only has two fingers that end in talons. “What, why does he only have two fingers”, I asked.
“Maybe a genetic defect. Like my cat Fluffy with his extra thumbs”, Mom suggested.
“Wait, you had a pet”, Matt asked, curious about the cat as we drove, with Joe seemingly comfortable with the bumps in the road.
“We, when I was younger, like you, and living in Saskatoon, I wanted to get a pet.” Mom explained as she looked at Joe. “Well, not quite like you have. Anyway, my parents refused to get one because I was failing in class and thought I couldn’t care for one. One day, I think a snowstorm was happening. I was walking down a street, fighting against the snow. I stumbled upon a box, covered in a blanket lying on the sidewalk. I looked inside and I saw kittens”, she said, her eyes glossy.
“Sadly, most of them died in the cold, except for one. An orange, fluffy kitten, fighting for its life. I took it, put it into my jacket and took it home. I entered our house and the kitten was fine, but my parents were furious. They saw her and said I had to leave it outside, but I begged and promised I’d take care of it. They said we could keep the kitten, as long I kept the grades up. So, I named him Fluffy, because he’s fluffy.”
“Where is he now? Why is he not here”, Matt questioned.
“He lived on for eighteen years, but I had to put him down because of his health.”
“Why didn’t you buy another cat”, I prodded.
“We just couldn’t afford it, we don’t have enough income. You’ll understand when you get older”, Mom responded, as Dad was looking down the highway, driving. I looked down and Joe was sleeping. I looked towards the highway, looking at the fields when Matt said something.
“I need to go to the bathroom”, he said, holding at his groin. I also need to go to relieve myself, but Matt called it first.
“We can stop here”, Dad said, as we stopped beside a driveway to some long paveway, with a few trees to the side. I recognized it through our trips to Regina: we have arrived at Gibbs. Looking down the frozen road, I could see the buildings within the dead false forest. I took this moment to speak my urge.
“Yeah, I need to go, too”, I declared. Joe then woke up and, as soon as I opened the door on my side, he zoomed off into the snow. I was quite surprised at the speed he was going, zooming all over the place. Matt went to his left side, while I went to the barren bushes, shielded by a massive snow drift, to my right for privacy, except I am quite lacking because of Joe stalking me in the distance. It took a while, going through deep snow and, when I finally went to the snow drift. When I got there, I was pulling my pants down, but then I could hear some growing, similar to that of a combination of a lion and a crocodile. Where is that coming from? Never mind, it might be Joe, I thought.
“Go away, Joe”, I said, thinking it was Joe, seemingly angry at something. Nervous, I finally got to business, a little slow because of Joe nearby. I then heard the growl again. This time, I looked up and saw Joe, but he wasn’t growling. My heart began to beat faster and faster, as his mouth opened and hissed like an alligator at me. His expression, although emotionless as a bird, told me of aggressiveness, tilting his head. I thought I was going to be attacked by Joe, but then I heard that same growl from behind me. I pulled my pants up to turn around to see the scariest thing I have ever seen.
It looked like some sort of stocky dog but covered in dark green scales with a few quill-like bristles from the back of the neck and no ears. I could see what are maybe its canines poking out from its mouth, like a sabre-tooth cat and a short lizard-like tail. It looked more reptile than, well, dog really except for its eyes. I could see the hunger in its eyes. I heard more growling to my other side and saw another of those things. Joe began making that baby crocodile noise and we ran to the truck. I turned around and ran.
“Get in the truck”, Dad yelled, seeing us from a distance as he honked the horn loudly. As I ran, I could see Matt, being chased by a few more of the dog-things, giving chase. Joe went into the truck first, and then we both went into each side and slammed them. Dad then sped off very quickly, scared they may get to us.
“What was that”, I panted, confused.
“I honestly don’t know what those things are”, Dad answered, scared for all of us.
“I want to go home”, Matt pleaded, tired from running away from those things.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon. I promise”, Mom reassured.
“Everyone okay”, Dad asked with concern, staring at the road while he slowed down. We all looked at each other in fearful confusion, even Joe. I looked at Joe, and he then looked at me. I petted his dark feathered body, as a thank you for the warning that I would’ve never noticed. “Okay, we are moving on”, Dad concluded. We sat in silence, although I was still petting Joe.
“Hey, Matt, do you know what dinosaur he is”, I asked Matt.
“I don’t know. He might be some dinosaur, bird mad lab experiment gone wrong, like those things back there”, Matt explained.
“Or some mess-up chicken in a lab”, Dad suggested, still looking at the road.
“I don’t think he was a chicken”, Matt rebutted. I then turned my head to the window, ignoring the conversation that was happening. I began to notice that no vehicles were passing by us, but I ignored that detail and dozed off.
I saw those same lights in the dark vision of my closed eyes. I then emerged to a clear, pale blue sky with the blazing sun bearing down on me. Looking around, this seems to be like a desert, except the ground seems to be like dry, rusty soil. It feels hot here, hotter than one of those summers in my former town. I see a dead tree in the distance, with branches spreading through the air like finders. I heard a sound behind me.
“Wake up! We are here”, Matt said as he shook me awake. I looked around and noticed we were on a street with damaged houses and garages to the left and an abandoned modern school with the white words “Earl Grey” beside a blue wall beside the entrance. The school lies hiding behind a metal fence with dead trees behind it. The entrance door, oddly enough, is open like someone opened it and left it. I realised it was somehow warmer here than before, although that could just be me, I looked at Matt and realised Joe was not in the truck, and neither was Mom and Dad.
“Hey, where’s Mom and Dad”, I asked Matt.
“Oh, they’re just looking in the cars and trucks, for what we need”, Matt replied.
“And Joe?”
“Oh, just running across the road.” Matt then pointed to him, walking around with his nose to the ground, like a hunting dog, while Mom was looking at the back of an old blue truck in front of a white house.
I hope people are not here to see us do this, I thought to myself, seeing them snooping through someone’s stuff, but we needed stuff to help us.
“Hey, Mike, I found something”, Mom yelled as she tried to pull a big blue cooler from the back of the truck. Dad then came from an RV down from the truck and came and helped her. He then put it down on the road and opened it. They both plugged their noses and backed away.
“Fish? Who leaves fish in a cooler in the back of a truck”, Dad gagged. Joe then looked up, seemingly in excitement and ran towards the cooler. He stuck his nose in the cooler and pulled out a pike. He plopped it on the road, his foot stepped on the fish and put his mouth onto it, tearing a piece of it and swallowing it. “At least somebody likes rotten fish”, Dad rasped.
As we looked in surprise, we could hear something from the school. The minute we heard it, a loud boar-like roar came out from the school. We thought it was a very big boar when it came out, but the more we looked, the more we realised it was something else. Its body is like a boar, but its face is like a lion’s and the snout of a camel, with teeth somewhat like a bear’s when it opens its enormous mouth to gargle like a pig. Mom, Dad and even Joe are taken by surprise, making our parents run towards the driveway, while Joe towards our truck with his gorged fish, standing by us. The boar-thing then stopped a few feet away from my parents, seemingly in a defensive stance, hooves scratching the ground. We are scared for our parents, preparing to see this thing rip them to shreds.
It gave one last roar and walked towards the cooler, knocking it over with fish spilling out. It stuck its snout in the fish and swallowed one down. They then slowly walked around the creature and steadily fastened their pace until they were at the truck. We all quickly got in and Dad backed up quickly.
“What the hell was that”, Mom panicked.
“I don’t know, a pig from hell”, Dad responded. We looked at Joe, swallowing down the fish while the rotting fish smell remained. It looked at us in confusion, as we were. We silently laughed for no apparent reason, probably as a mechanism to try to replace the fear. We then heard a shaking in the truck, startling us. We realised that the hell pig was tearing at the bumper of the truck like a lion would. Dad hammered the horn, making the thing back up in surprise. Dad took this opportunity to back up very quickly towards the intersection and turned to the left, quickly avoiding the creature. We sat in silence, except for Joe who was chirping.
When we went down the street, the houses, as usual, were damaged but we saw other vehicles, the first we had seen. Some were parked along the street, others stuck on one lane like city traffic but paused. Weirdly enough, there are no people in the vehicles, nor anyone outside. Most of the vehicles have one or more doors open like people got out to go somewhere. We drove past all the vehicles in the other lane. There is one vehicle we passed by that is on fire, most of the paint already off to reveal the metal beneath, only to be turned into a rainbow of browns and blacks by the dancing flames.
“What. Happened. Here”, Mom slowly asked, as confused and terrified as us. We had a feeling of dread, seeing all the abandoned vehicles.
“That’s the least of our worries. We should be looking for supplies”, Dad responded.
“Hey, how much do we have”, Mom asked Dad, worried about using up the fuel.
“Well, we got a full tank of gas and travelled a hundred kilometers”, Dad responded, more confused. “Nothing makes sense here and I hope we don’t stay here for long”, he muttered.
Eventually, we passed most of the vehicles and reached the veterinary clinic. The small, intact structure stood there, seemingly looking over the icy driveway. We then spotted an old, brown truck and we saw something that set it apart from the rest of the vehicles we’ve seen so far.
“It’s on”, I said, gleefully, with hope that, at least, we aren’t the only ones here. The headlights beamed brightly, and we realised it was getting dark. We also noticed that the street lights aren’t turning on.
“I thought there was no one here”, my Mom said, unsure of the connection between the abandoned but running truck and the lack of people in this town. At one of the intact houses, ahead of us, partially blocked by the trees, we saw what seemed to be bright light coming from one of the windows. What person would go into a house after an earthquake, I thought, thinking about our house back home.
“Someone’s here”, Matt loudly notified, as we all shushed him and that is when Joe is trying to push the door with his snout. “What is he doing?”
“Stay here”, Dad calmly ordered, opening the door, but Joe scurried out and went somewhere else.
“Hey, come back”, Matt called out, with no success. Joe eventually disappeared into the night, never to be seen. Matt then had tears welling up in his eyes like he was about to cry. I hugged him to comfort him.
“He’ll come back some time”, Mom reassured, trying to calm him down and looking at Dad. Dad nodded and grabbed a flashlight that was equipped in the truck. He then walked slowly towards the house, step by step, being shone by our truck’s headlights. He looked back at us and put his hand up when the light in the house moved. It seems to move towards the front door of the house. Emerging from the house is a person walking down the steps, cloaked in darkness. Dad then took a few steps back as the figure came. Finally, the figure stepped into the light.

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temporary, ten, tend, tendency, tennis, tension, tent, term, terms, terrible, territory, terror, terrorist, test, testimony, testing, text, than, thank, thanks, that, the, theater, their, them, theme, themselves, then, theory, therapy, there, therefore, these, they, thick, thin, thing, think, thinking, third, thirty, this, those, though, thought, thousand, threat, threaten, three, throat, through, throughout, throw, thus, ticket, tie, tight, time, tiny, tip, tire, tissue, title, to, tobacco, today, toe, together, toilet, token, tolerate, tomato, tomorrow, tone, tongue, tonight, too, tool, tooth, top, topic, toss, total, totally, touch, tough, tour, tourist, tournament, toward, towards, tower, town, toy, trace, track, trade, tradition, traditional, traffic, tragedy, trail, train, training, transfer, transform, transformation, transition, translate, translation, transmission, transmit, transport, transportation, travel, treat, treatment, treaty, tree, tremendous, trend, trial, tribe, 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weather, web, website, wedding, week, weekend, weekly, weigh, weight, welcome, welfare, well, west, western, wet, what, whatever, wheel, when, whenever, where, whereas, whether, which, while, whisper, white, who, whole, whom, whose, why, wide, widely, widespread, wife, wild, wildlife, will, willing, win, wind, window, wine, wing, winner, winter, wipe, wire, wisdom, wise, wish, with, withdraw, within, without, witness, woman, wonder, wonderful, wood, wooden, word, work, worker, working, workout, workplace, works, workshop, world, worried, worry, worth, would, wound, wrap, write, writer, writing, wrong, yard, yeah, year, yell, yellow, yes, yesterday, yet, yield, you, young, your, yours, yourself, youth, zone.

Hello Apes.
Long time holder and sleeper over the last few years, just quietly holding and buying after believing in the DD of previous much more intelligent apes than I, no more so than the absolute chad who kicked this all off, DFV.
Although I should be working right now, I wanted to round up all of the tweets from yesterday and understand the messages behind what was being tweeted. It seems to me that although DFV has to be cryptic with his memes, he has had so long to line this up that there must be intentional messaging behind the tweets too.
This is pure speculation on my part and i've tried to go through the original tweet posts on here and pick up on anything in the comments that others might have picked up on.
11am - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790034263603139012
Description: I'm not a massive Marvel watcher so maybe people can help me expand but the Thanos scene is taken from the ending credits of Scene of Age of Ultron where he has the infinity gauntlet in his hand saying "Fine, Ill do it myself" and the Wolverine scene is taken from X-Men origins where Wolverine is brought back to life and in remembering previous life events, went into a full on rage taking out everybody.
Speculation: The first tweet of the market day and a real statement of intent from DFV. Announcing to the world that he is truly back and he is still in. Lots of speculation about whether he would post a YOLO after hours (he did not) but certainly a statement of intent.
11.30am - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790041813379850491
Description: First part is the final scene of Ferris Bueller's Day Off I believe after the credits roll breaking the 3rd wall to ask why you are still here. Next we have Breaking Bad and this is where Saul wants out of the operation as it's becoming high risk but Walter tells him that they are done when he says they are done. Then we have a cat waking from a slumber with the Radiohead song Exit Music (for a film) playing and finally we have the beginning piano music to 'Light of the Seven' from Game of Thrones.
Speculation: I believe the first part is a joke that a lot of people have probably asked you over the years and will certainly ask you over the coming days, "oh are you still holding that GME stock?", "why are you still doing that?" but it could also be directed towards DFV as well from SHFs, why are you still here? (what's an exit strategy huh?). The Breaking Bad reference is an excellent rebuttal to that, "we're done, when i say we're done" (SHF's are fk). The Cat waking slowly can describe DFV slowly waking from his slumber, remember his last tweet to sign off years ago of a Cat going to sleep? The song has some interesting lyrics which i won't post in full but you can see for yourself here Here. Just to pick a few lines out; "Today we escape", "Breathe, keep breathing, Don't lose your nerve", "I can't do this alone". The final part is probably my favorite scene from GoT, Cersei's plan comes to full fruition with sweet revenge when she blows up the temple of a cult that had embarassed her beforehand and threatened her rule. She makes them pay with a giant green explosion so take from that what you will. If you want to check out the scene you can find it here.
12pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790049362846117942
Description: First we have V for Vendetta with "first the overture". Next we have a person driving in reverse from Ready Player One and then we have another scene from GoT where Daenerys (The Mother of Dragons) is facing confrontation from a murderous clan who are fighting against her claim over their city and her dragon waking up.
Speculation: The overture is an orchestral piece at the beginning of an opera and generally means an introduction to something more substantial, no need to expand further on that. I haven't seen Ready Player One but from looking at comments in other posts: The Ready Player One scene, he wins the race by beating the system. The GoT scene was the waking up Drogon to come to the aid of The Mother of Dragons while a group attempted to assassinate her, all looked lost until Drogon rode in to save the day. I tried to find the episode the check back but I'm pretty sure the actual dragon waking up scene is taken from an episode further into GME where the Dragon originally has blue eyes so I think that clip has been changed to include red eyes (GME red button anyone?)
Edit\* As pointed out in the comments by MrsDuckyJonez, "He did another Ready Player One scene years ago and it was the scene right before this one. It was really important because she tells him that he saw something that no one else saw- that in order to win (beat the system) he had to go backwards instead of racing for the finish line. The speculation back then when he posted it was that going back and looking at puts/calls was evidence that hedgies are fukd".\*
12:30pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790056912664601031
Description: Firstly, this is taken from Gangs of New York where Amsterdam's father is giving his son a shaving knife and stating "the blood stays on the blade" building up to a confrontation with Bill where he will eventually kill him with it. Then we go to the scene just before that happens but everyone has their faces painted in green. Finally we have the music video for Ludacris - Stand Up.
Speculation: I haven't seen Gangs of New York but from doing some research online about the significance of the hunting blade i came across this:

The shaving knife is symbolic.
"The blood stays on the blade" can be interpreted as "you can't wash away your sins."
One of the major themes of the film is that history repeats itself if we don't learn from its lessons.

Seems like a pretty simple message that SHFs haven't learnt their lessons and history is repeating itself right now, sign of things to come perhaps? Then we have Stand up, DFV having some fun here but the lyrics again have some interesting lines, "Watch out for the medallion, my diamonds are reckless", "What's wrong? The club and the moon is full", "One sure shot way to get 'em outta them pants". You can find the full lyrics Here
1pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790064464357724451
Description: Some car scenes here: Firstly we have a car driving off into the sunset taken from the Wiz Khalifa - See you Again music video (part of the Furious 7 soundtrack), then we have a car chase with a car pulling off a highway (not sure where this is from or if its a highway (i'm a UK ape) and finally we have another car chase but this one the driver has beaten the police cars and is pulling up.
Speculation: I like the take from u/ tajwriggly here where it could be that DFV is saying everyone thought he was driving off into the sunset for the life of ease... and who could blame him if he was? But no... he's right off the path and in the thick of things with the rest of us. I think all 3 scenes put together tell a short story, DFV seemingly riding off, then DFV giving it the big turn in a big chase and then DFV giving it the slip in his zen like state.
1.30pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790072011810812231
Description: First scene shows a woman on the verge of being beheaded before being spared at the last minute then we cut to a scene with 'Ain't no mountain high enough' coming in then finally Florence & the Machine with Dog Days Are Over.
Speculation: GME is going to run, there ain't no mountain high enough that's going to stop what this can reach and the DOG days are over, it's the days of the cat now.
2:00pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790079562866360327
Description: A beautiful cut scene of the avengers initiative charging as a team to save the world. All kinds of superheroes big and small.
Speculation: Whilst we are all individual investors we all do share in one common interest, we love the stock. There could be a case here for basket theory but I won't speculate on that further as I'm personally only interested in one stock but take from that what you will.
2:30pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790087112282239085
Description: The first scene is taken from the final duel in The Good, The Bad and The Ugly only some crowd cheering has been dubbed into the background. Then we have Thor coming down hard to smash everyone.
Speculation: There is a nervy standoff happening maybe between different short positions, who is going to blink first and close up knowing that making a move means bloodshed only...it doesn't matter because they are all going to get absolutely smashed anyway by the supreme hammer of Thor.
3:00pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790094668237259040
Description: First scene, "make no mistake it's not revenge he is after it's a reckoning", then we have a shotgun wielding man "you tell him i'm coming, and hells coming with me you hear?" and finally we have Narco with some baddass horse riders taking shots.
Speculation: As u/ strikeeagle points out, the Narco trumpets are synonymous with Mets fans as they bring in Edwin Diaz "Narco" to close up, usually when it's "Game over" for the opposing team. The reckoning is coming! Oh and Steve Cohen owns the Mets of course, trading is a tough game don't ya think?
3:30pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790102212619669909
Description: Pirates of the Caribbean scene where Captain Barbossa asks what has become of his precious and infamous ship, The Black Pearl. Then we have Men in Black where they press the red button and jet off.
Speculation: The captain is back to take back the ship and he is pressing the red button to send this into the stratosphere.
4:00pm - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790109766389477525
Description: Peeky blinders, Tommy Shelby, leader of the Shelby crew is prepping his family to be on their best behaviour just before they fleece a load of the elite at the races then we have another Peeky Blinders scene in which Tommy has another plan up his sleeve but in the end keeps it simple to achieve their goals for revenge.
Speculation: DFV has a plan and all that is required from GME loving people is just to keep your plums in order and enjoy the ride, don't make it more complicated than it needs to be, everything is already happening.
Edit: Sorry i missed one (i was in bed by this time 1am in UK)
8pm: - https://twitter.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790170162265460831
Description: The scene from Snatch where the Gypsy takes revenge on the gang that killed his mother after a continuing conflict throughout the film by taking to them with shotguns then we have the music video of BANG! by AJR and finally the Glengarry Glen Ross speech by Alec Baldwin with "oh, have i got your attention now?"
Speculation: Along the common theme here, Snatch is showing a big revenge with lots of shots fired and this is continued with lots more BANGS directed from Roaring Kitty. Finally the most interesting part of the video in my opinion, quoting the Glengarry Glen Ross Speech, I recommend you give it watch here but if you don't have time, ABC (ALWAYS BE CLOSING), YOU CLOSE OR YOU HIT THE BRICKS. Full scene here.
Let me know if you have anything to add below and hope you found this helpful. I really should do some work now.
Buy - Hodl - DRS
Love ya DFV x

I am not the OOP. The OOP is u/user posting in AITAH
Concluded as per OOP
1 update - Medium
Original - 5th May 2024
Update - 6th May 2024
​
1 New Update
Thanks to u/Small-Bodybuilder160 for finding the update
Final Update - 10th May 2024
​
AITAH for passing out during a family gathering meant to introduce our new baby?
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So, recently I(27F) had a beautiful baby girl with my husband(29M). She's my pride and joy, I love her more than I love myself. But, taking care of her has taken its toll on me. My husband promised the work would be 50/50 when we agreed we wanted children, but I don't feel that's being reflected by his actions this past month.
It's gotten to the point where I can't even ask him to wash her up without him saying something along the lines of, "My paternity leave is short, I want to make the most of it by relaxing a bit. I'll help you out later." And I get it. His paternity leave is only 6 weeks while mine is 16 weeks, but my nether regions hurt like a bitch for a better part of two weeks after the birth and all he could do for me was occasionally burp her.
Now, my baby girl has gotten to a phase where she doesn't want to sleep. She'll sleep for an hour, but then she's up and back to crying and I have to get up and try to soothe her. It's been happening for a week now and I've gotten so little sleep that I'm nodding off while eating or doing tge laundry and stuff. Saturday was the month anniversary of my daughter's birth, so I decided to gather both sides of the family to meet her. (They hadn't met her prior because a)I wanted to rest as much as I could and b)I heard somewhere that you shouldn't be taking babies out and about when they're fresh out the womb cause they're more prone to illness then).
So, we had this gathering at my mother's house and all was well. Everyone was cooing over our baby, there was food, people were catching up or meeting for the 1st time. It was nice. But, I had gotten about 3 hours(generous estimate) of sleep in total the past week and I was starting to feel the effects of it. I was feeling lightheaded and clammy, but I didn't wanna make a scene so I tried to go to a bedroom to lie down. I didn't take 10 steps before my vision completely blacked out.
I wasn't down for long, but I had fallen over which drew some attention. I explained to everyone who was concerned that I was fine and that I was just not getting enough sleep and I could see my husband visibly frown at that. They gave me some of the dessert my aunt made to get my sugar up and the party continued. I felt embarrassed about the whole thing, especially since everyone was still looking over me til we left, but it's whatever
What bothered me is my husband's reaction. When we got home, he started going off on me about how I "made him look bad" and like "he wasn't taking care of me". I was confused on how tf me passing out made HIM look bad, but he refused to explain himself and had a pity party for himself in the kitchen.
I was still feeling bad, so I decided to leave him alone and just to go sleep, but he seems to have taken that as a sign that I don't care about his feelings. He's in my ear this morning about how I just ignored him to go sleep last night and how I didn't even put the baby to sleep before leaving. Is he right? AITAH here?
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Update: So I've tried talking with him, but he's been ignoring me and the baby the last three hours. I'd usually wait longer, but I'm just too tired to deal with this right now. You guys were right, I do need help with this, and he's made it very clear he's not ready to help me yet, so I'm just going to go to my mom's place. I'm currently packing. I'm so done.
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Comments
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sophie_Mal
NTA and I can’t call your husband the names I want to because my comment will be deleted.
Paternity leave isn’t a time to relax, it’s a time you’re helping raise the baby and spending time together as a family. CLEARLY he is not doing either of these things as A. You’d be better rested and B. He’d have noticed you’re exhausted.
You passing out made him look bad because it was clear to everyone that you’re being left to raising your baby alone. It’s clearly not a partnership and the AH you’re married to is turning it onto you to shift responsibility and blame.
You need to seriously reconsider the relationships future and bring this up with him as it all comes down to him and his behaviour. If he gets his shit together, then things will be much better. But if he doesn’t, you and your daughter deserve so much better.
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awaythrowers97
He doesn't know what "paternity leave" is and doesn't really want to take care of his family. Sadly, you can't seem to shake that loser.
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ArticleOld598
This deadbeat of a father and husband is using his 6 weeks to laze around instead of using it taking care of his wife & child.
OP you said you love your baby more than yourself, would you want to let her grow up and think that it's normal for wives to push themselves while they're sleepless and in pain until they faint & husbands to berate them instead of worrying & taking care of them?
Tell your parents that your husband doesn't help you at all & blamed you for "making him look bad". You know what else makes him look bad? Being a deadbeat father and partner.
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**Judgement - NTA*\*
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Update - 1 day later
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Hi all, your comments were really helpful, so thank you!
Yesterday, before I could Uber to my mom's house, my sister offered to help me, so I'm staying with her instead. She's taking PTA to help me out with my girl, which I'm very grateful for. She also gave me sleep medicine that knocked me out for hours (I'm not sure if that was a good idea or not, but I slept long and well so I don't care.)
I woke up a few hours ago to tons, and I mean TONS, of messages from my husband. Like, the little app icon had 99+ on it. Here are some of the things he said(copy pasted):
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• You cant just up and fucking leve with my baby
• Come back now pls let's talk abt it
• Your actually so fuvking immature wth is wrong with you we have one argument and you fucking pretend like I've been beating you why the hell did you leave????
• We can work this out like adults yet your choosing to be difficult like a little bitch
• Pls just come back we will talk and sort this out and we can go back to being happy so come back
• I miss my baby girl you can't just take her away
• What if I call the police for kidnapping??? Would that teach you wat your doing is wrong???

​
I would screenshot, but it says this community doesnt allow attachments, so i can't. And I know it's a bit weird to tell yall what he's been texting me, but I'm mad right now and this feels therapeutic lol. I already sent the screenshots to his mom though!
As for my baby, I have an appointment to a paediatrician for Wednesday, but for now she's on formula since my breast milk quality isn't the best for understandable reasons. My sister said she wasn't as fussy as I described, so I really think the problem is with my milk. That or my sister wanted to make me feel better for sleeping, who knows. I'll wait for the doctor's opinion.
I'm not feeling 100% but I feel a whole lot more better than before. Thank you to everyone who showed concern! I think this will be the last update since I wanna not think too much about my husband rn.
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Comments
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ZombieJoesBasement
I am sooo glad you left and got some help and rest. You definitely need and deserve it.
I still can't get over your husband's mental gymnastics here. He hasn't been a parent, hasn't helped you at all, and hasn't really spent any time caring for his daughter and only cares about what other people (besides you) think, but "misses his baby girl" and wants you to come back "so we can go back to being happy"?! Sounds like the only person who was happy was him--he got a 6 week vacation and didn't have to lift a finger. Let me guess-you were doing all the cooking and cleaning on top of caring for the baby? From what he is texting you, he thinks he did nothing wrong. He is being deliberately obtuse.
To add insult to injury he calls you a bitch and threatens you with the cops. Lovely. He is a real peach.
I really want to know what his mom has to say. Does she know he was mad at you for passing out?
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Efficient-Cupcake247
Because it isn't about love. It is about control and image. Please keep strong. You have done a fabulous job doing what you need to for you and baby. Best wishes
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blehguardian
To be clear, kidnapping is not involved. Until a custody agreement is submitted to the court, either married parent is legally permitted to take their child for any reason.
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Aggravating-Pipe-903
Damn, this dude is crazy. Hopefully next update it’ll be ex-husband
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**New Updates*\*
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AITAH for passing out during a family gathering meant to introduce our new baby? LAST UPDATE - 4 days later
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For all of you who wanted to know what his mother's reaction was, she yelled at him and he made that my problem. The things he's messaged me are vile. And even though MIL was mad at him and KNOWS what he's been saying to me, she still insisted that I go visit him face to face so we can work things out.
I don't really blame her. He's her son, of course she'd still want to help him, but still....With all the ways he's been threatening me and cussing me out, I really didnt want to see him, but I decided to go. Mostly because I needed the stuff that I left at our house.
I went with my sister for safety, obviously. We got there and he played with our baby, he offered to feed her (she wasn't hungry), just acting completely different from the man texting me about how much of a "heartless bitch" I am. I didn't really feel comfortable having him near me or the baby with how violent his texts were, but she's still his baby. I don't think the courts would favour him after I show his texts, but I thought I should rather be safe and allow him some form of contact before going to court. This was a mistake.
At the end of the visit, I decided I should go pack my stuff, since that was one of the only reason I agreed to come. But, I didn't feel comfortable not being there while he had my baby. Yeah, my sister was there and I trust her, but I'd rather watch her with my own eyes. So, my sister went upstairs to pack for me. As soon as she was gone, he started talking about "See? I'm good now I can take care of her." And other stuff but that wasn't the problem. Even if he became super dad, I wouldn't be able to see him the same. Not after all those messages he sent me.
I told him that and he got pissed at me. I was getting worried since my daughter was still in his arms, so I tried to deescalate his feelings. It didn't work and he started yelling at me for "being heartless" and "stubborn" and whatnot. I wasn't really focused on what he was saying, I was focused on my baby. I tried to reach out for her and he shoved me hard enough to fall back. My sister came down and tried to help, but he shoved her away too and ran to the guest room and locked himself and MY BABY in there. He refused to come out unless my sister left and i stayed behind. I can't tell y'all how scary it is to not know what's happening to your child.
It took officers almost 30 minutes to get him out, which pissed me off. Like I know they were probably trying to assess the danger or whatever but I just wanted my baby. In that 30 minute window he could've shaken her or threw her out the window or something and they were there asking him to come out like he was a child and not breaking down the door. She was fine, though, so I can't be too mad.
They didn't arrest him since "no harm was done" even though my sister and I have bruises to prove otherwise, but they held him outside while I packed my stuff. It actually bothers me that they didn't at least detain him, but there's not much I can do about it now. I don't think I'm going to go near him again. Not with my baby. I'm thinking of going to apply for that emergency custody thing yall were talking about.
This happened on Wednesday and I'm still shaken. It's really depressing, for a lack of better word, seeing how much he's changed. I really loved him and I felt he loved me too. How he's acting is crushing me. I feel deflated. My baby girl and my sister are really the only things keeping me going right now.
I'm sorry for the wall of text, it's just that texting this all out helps me feel better. But, I don't think I want to continue updating. Just know that we're splitting up. Thank you all for your support!!
Extra: after visiting the doctor, I've decided to just skip the hassle and formula feed. She seems happier with formula anyways.
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Comments
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JanetInSpain
OMG document everything. Take pictures of the bruises. Go see a doctor and tell the doctor you just need things documented to protect yourself and your baby. File a police report for assault and both you and your sister write detailed statements of everything that happened. Then apply for emergency custody.
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georgiajl38
Go to the police station and file a report for assault. Screw those cops. They didn't have to take him but the assault report should have definitely been filed. Get in front of a magistrate asap!!!
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I am not the OOP. Please do not harass the OOP.
Please remember the No Brigading Rule and to be civil in the comments

I don’t know if my experience is justifiable because I feel like it was my own fault for putting myself in that position. For nearly a year I kind of just ignored everything about it and “dealt” but not really because the feelings are resurfacing and I’m dreaming about it again. I’ve struggled a lot with my mental health over the years and I’ve become avoidant and I tend to suppress traumas and invalidate my pain. And I’m sorry, this is going to be long.
There was a guy that I was dating and I want to say he was the love of my life. We had been close friends for 3 years and made it official around May last year. In July there was a huge house party my girl friends and I were going to. We had been planning to go for weeks and I had told my boyfriend about it. My friends had said they hadn’t seen much of me since I became a girlfriend and I felt bad about this. My ex randomly texts me and asks me if I’m going to said party, I tell him yes and he says he can get me and my friends free drinks. I tell him I have a bf and he seemingly respects this but says the drinks are up for grabs. I tell my friends and they are more than eager, and one of them tells me she prefers my ex to my current bf and that I should flirt with him too. About a day before the party, my bf tells me he’s going to the party too. I got upset about it because it was supposed to be time I spent with my friends and it’s not like I can ignore him if he’s there. I tell him I don’t want him to go in a joking manner and I don’t say, but why we both end up going to the party. At the party my ex sees me and calls me over. We make a bit of small talk, and says whenever me or my friends want a drink we should find him. We ended up drinking quite a lot that night and my ex kept getting us drinks. At some point he gets tired of the back and forth and shows me where I can get drinks from myself and it’s in this room.
(I’m new to Reddit so I don’t know if I should put a tw, but tw) While he’s opening the drinks and finding a cup I sit on the bed and lie back because sitting up was too much effort. I tell him I got a new belly piercing to fill the silence and he asks to see. I was being a bit flirty and I was teasing and said no, but he kept saying please and whatnot and says he won’t let me leave if I don’t show him. Now he’s standing over me and I’m feeling uncomfortable. I say I should go but he says I should wait and he’s pulling my dress up to see. Then he says it’s nice and starts going on about how he misses me and starts touching me and that my bf won’t know. At this point idk what to do because he’s not listening to me so I just let him do what he does and wait it out. When he’s done he goes to the bathroom and comes back with a bunch of tissues and throws them onto me then leaves back to the party.
I got up feeling sobered up but really I was telling myself what happened wasn’t real. I clean myself up and go back to the party. My boyfriend finds me and says he’d been looking for me and I say I was with my friends but he said he was with my friends. I know he is suspicious but doesn’t say anything. He knows of my ex because he’s the guy I lost my virginity to (and every time we’ve slept together I have never been sober. Which looking back was very problematic actually.) my bf and ex even greeted each other some time earlier in the night. I never said anything about it to anyone but the next day my friend said she and my bf noticed me missing at the party and were looking for me. This is the same friend who prefers my ex. She then "made the connection" because I had said I was getting drinks from my ex and said she covered for me bc she thought it was something I had intended on doing but I didn't correct her because I was scared and didn't want to face the reality of what I had experienced. A while after my bf and I decided to be friends again for the time being but still spoke every day. I thought about telling him what had happened that night but I was scared it would change how he saw me.
I ended up cutting off my friend because she just wasn't really a good person and our values didn't align and a whole lot of other things and she wasn't too happy about it. Fast forward like 6 months my bf and now ex-friend meet at a party and I'm guessing spitefully she told him what "I had done" all those months ago. He called me to ask if it was true and I didn't have it in me to tell him what actually happened so I said yes and he cut me off and blocked me everywhere because I lied to him about it. I don't know what to do because I love him so much but this part of me feels too painful to share. He thinks I'm a cheater now but I feel like it’s too late to explain because he said he wants nothing to do with me.
I regret not saying anything but I also feel like it’s my fault because why was I even entertaining my ex and accepting things from him? Why did I go to a room and flirtatiously tell him I have a belly piercing? I thought I was getting over it all but now I’m just angry at myself and I think I blame myself because the idea of being a victim has never sat well with me. There’s a lot messed up with that I know. But anyways that’s me. I’m not even sure if this is supposed to be under this specific thread. If it’s not I’m sorry.

A true sports parent dies twice. There’s the death that awaits us all at the end of a long or short life, the result of illness, misadventure, fire, falling object, hydroplaning car, or derailing train. But there is also the death that comes in the midst of life, the purgatorial purposelessness that follows the final season on the sidelines or in the bleachers, when your sports kid hangs up their skates, cleats, or spikes after that last game.
The passage of time is woeful, and, for a parent, living your dreams through the progress of your progeny is as inevitable as the turning of the Earth. But the sports parent lives the experience in concentrate—a more intense version of the common predicament. You must give up your vicarious hope of big-league glory and let it die. You must part from what, if your kid pursued his passion seriously, had become a routine of away games and early-morning practices, hours in the car, a hot cup of coffee in your cold hand as the sun rose above the Wonderland of Ice, in Bridgeport, Connecticut; the Ice Arena in Brewster, New York; the Ice Vault, in Wayne, New Jersey—home of the Hitmen, whose logo is a pin-striped gangster with a hockey stick. And you’ll suddenly find yourself watching the Stanley Cup playoffs not in the way of a civilian but with the chagrin of knowing that the game’s upper ranks will never include your kid.
One recent morning, courtesy of Facebook Memories, I came across an old picture of my son, a high-school junior who recently announced his decision to quit hockey—to retire! The photo was taken by teammates after a victory at Lake Placid, New York. Sweat-soaked, draped in the arms of friends, grinning like a thief, he looked no less ecstatic than Mike Eruzione after he and his team won Olympic gold in the same arena in 1980.
And me? I was this Eruzione’s old man, waiting with the other parents outside the locker room, experiencing a moment of satisfaction greater than any other I’d known, either as a player or as a fan. I was a car in park with the accelerator pressed to the floor. I was a wall bathed in sunlight. This win was better than the Illinois State Championship I won with the Deerfield Falcons, in 1977. It was better than the Bears’ 1986 Super Bowl victory.
Bears’ 1986 Super Bowl victory.
Read: I thought I’d found a cheat code for parenting
The end began like this: One evening, after the last game of the high-school season, I asked my son if he’d be trying out for spring league. For a youth-hockey kid, playing spring league is the equivalent of a minor-league pitcher playing winter ball in Mexico—so necessary as a statement of intent and means of improvement that forgoing it is like giving up “the path.” Rather than a simple affirmative nod, as I’d expected, I got these words: “I’m going to think about it.” Think about it? For me, this was the same as a girlfriend saying, “We need to talk.”
Only later did I realize that those words were the first move in a careful choreography. My son wanted to quit, but in a way that would not break my heart. He also didn’t want me to rant and rave and try to talk him out of it.
We had reversed roles. He was the adult. I was the child.
He knew he would not be playing college hockey even if he could. With this in mind, he had decided to use his final year of high school to get to know people other than hockey players and spend time in places other than hockey rinks. In the way of a pro with iffy knees nearing the age of 35, he had decided to exit on his own terms. He was not worrying about losing his identity as a player or about missing the camaraderie of the locker room; he was worrying about me. Hockey had been an entire epoch of our father-son life. It had ushered me, the sports parent, out of my 30s, through my 40s, and into my 50s.
.... Because I am human, I tend to blame entities or systems or other people for things that strike me as unfair. As my son progressed, I caught a glimpse, for one fabulous, deluded moment, of the life that he (we, I) would never live: high-school athletic stardom followed by college triumph and possibly even a professional-hockey career. That I knew this was a fantasy—he was never that good—did not make it less powerful. Lost in it, I experienced my life as an NHL fan with new intensity. I was not just watching the Blackhawks; I was scouting, picking up tricks that I could pass to my glory-bound boy. This was a dream that I was too embarrassed to share with anyone, even my wife. I regarded it the way members of the Free French regarded the liberation of Paris: Think of it always; speak of it never. In short, I lost my way. Rather than letting him enjoy the moment and the fact that these seasons were his career, not a preparation or a path toward one, I was constantly scheming about his next move, his next opportunity, his next shot at the big time.
Here’s the worst part: I knew exactly what I was doing. I was attempting to replace my kid’s will with my own. I knew that it was wrong and, worse, counterproductive. The more I pressed, the less he enjoyed the game. The less he enjoyed the game, the worse he played. The worse he played, the more I pressed. Economists call this a negative feedback loop. I knew it but could not stop. It was psychosis.
Maybe the most notorious sports parents suffer from a shared psychological condition. LaVar Ball, Emmanuel Agassi, Earl Woods—those sports dads were all obsessed to the point of being abusive. I prefer to think that I am not; yet, for all the varying degrees of our kid’s success, our predicament is the same. At some point, even if it comes after 20 years in the pros, the set will be rolled away, revealing our true location. Rink parking lot. Beat-up vehicle. Alone. Even the child prodigies will retire.
https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2024/05/ice-hockey-sports-parent/678347/

Intro

It’s not much of a stretch to say that violence is the primary form of interaction in video games. With a handful of exceptions, most video games involve guys whacking other guys, with varying degrees of brutality. Even chill games fall into this - Stardew Valley has sections with combat in them! Considering the pervasiveness of violence in video games, there has been a ton of amateur and academic commentary on the topic. However, while this is a well-established school of thought, I haven’t seen people try to apply this to Fire Emblem specifically.
So, let’s do that now! In this post, I’ll be exploring how violence in Fire Emblem is implemented - what limitations are placed on violence, how it warps wider game and narrative design, and what it implicitly says and does not say. I hope this post doesn’t come off as too early-2010s “makes you think”-y, but I do think there are multiple interesting things worth talking about here!
Despite the length of this post, "a brief discussion" is an appropriate title, as we won't be able to go into depth on everything. After all, video games are holistic works, so the attitude towards violence is relevant to every aspect of their design. However, I have managed to wrangle some of these threads into the following structure: first a discussion on the fundamental mode of interaction in Fire Emblem, then how stories are constructed with regards to violence, and ending with the aesthetics of violence and how they relate to characters. Also, as FE is a huge series, be aware that I am gonna be making some broad statements which may not apply to each individual plot point of every game. I actually planned to write 3 case studies around Thracia 776, Fates, and Three Houses (which have the most interesting attitudes to violence in the series IMO) which point out these deviations, but this post is way too long and full of tangents already. If people are interested, I’ll make a followup to this post which goes into them in more detail. Also also, because of the nature of this post, I’ll actually give a useful TL;DR for once:
TL;DR: Nintendo games must be fun mechanically, and they can’t be too uncomfortable narratively. If you try to provide a counterpoint by saying “oh this Kirby final boss is super dark it eats 100 morbillion galaxies”, you do not deserve rights. IntSys has to keep to this as a 2nd party publisher, but they also have to deal with the fact that their games are at least nominally about ‘war’ (or at least they put their toes into that particular thematic pool). This conflict between making a fun video game for children/teens and the wider framing of the narrative leads to interesting narrative and aesthetic tensions. also fun is cringe, misery is based

“Do you like hurting other people?” (or The Fundamental Mode of Interaction)

OK LISTEN I KNOW I LITERALLY JUST SAID THAT I DIDN’T WANT TO COME ACROSS AS A EARLY 2010s “VIOLENCE IN VIDYA BAD :O????” PERSON BUT I SWEAR I’M GOING SOMEWHERE WITH THIS
The best place to start when talking about violence in video games is to think about the primary form of interaction in said game. In the case of Fire Emblem, this is in the in-chapter gameplay. Sure, in objective terms the player moves arbitrary objects across a 2D grid which perform subtraction on arbitrary objects controlled by the computer, but this is always framed as controlling a squad of soldiers to engage in (typically lethal) combat with enemies (who are normally also soldiers). When you’re not doing this in-chapter gameplay, you are preparing for the next chapter of combat. This involves surveying the area of combat, preparing weapon loadouts, etc, however more recent entries also include light life-sim-esque elements. To summarize, Fire Emblem’s interactivity involves ordering violence as well as the preparations to order said violence.
For players, this strategic thinking is extremely fun and is the primary draw of the series! You have all these tier lists of who’s better at killing, discussion of the maps where you do the killing, complaints about the length of gameplay sections where you don’t do killing, etc. This is by design, as while I don’t know the core brand tenets of Nintendo, I imagine the Reggie quote “If it isn’t fun, why bother?” is carved into a solid gold statue of Mario in the office lobby. This then is enforced on all associated studios, including IntSys and so Fire Emblem. While I would disagree with that Reggie quote (especially the bit where he says “If it’s not a battle, where’s the fun?” which is a wild statement to make about an entire medium), this approach to making games is ultimately fine, and so IntSys tailored the strategic gameplay to be satisfying to your dopamine receptors. You could analyse what the normalisation of violence even in ‘just for fun’ games says about wider gaming culture, but I won’t get into that here. In any case, let’s dig into a few specifics of FE’s interactivity.
One thing that’s interesting with regard to strategy games is the detached perspective of the player. You order units and observe the resulting violence, but it’s not tactile, you don’t directly swing the sword or shoot the bow or cast the spell like with action games. This adds a layer of separation between the player and what fundamentally happens, at least within the framing that the game provides. It’s not like Call of Duty, where your relationship to the violence is very visceral, where you view everything down the barrel of a gun. OK, I probably shouldn’t use a series that I have very little personal experience with (I only listen to the supplementary lore material, so let’s talk about Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice. While you’re not directly in the driver’s seat, John Sekiro reacts to your every input with extreme responsiveness, so overcoming the game’s challenges i.e. stabbing people is incredibly visceral and satisfying. While this violence is fantastical in nature, there is sufficient blood and explicit sword-action to clearly say “oh yeah you are violently killing all of those bozos with a katana”. Coming back to FE, not only are you far more detached from the violence, it is presented in an extremely cartoony manner… but let’s not get ahead of ourselves here, we’ll get to the aesthetics later. Point is, Fire Emblem gives the viewpoint of a stoic commander, who Does What Needs To Be Done™, and not the viewpoint of an actual soldier who has to do the actual killing.
Now let’s view the player’s perspective on violence from a different angle. Fire Emblem intends for its combat to be relatively relaxed on the player side of things - the turn-based nature allows the player to calmly think through all of their moves, and you typically have perfect information on the enemies. The only exceptions to this are Fog of WaSame Turn Reinforcements, which are rare and typically unpopular amongst the fanbase. This leans into ‘combat as sport’, where (going back to the Reggie quote) you have a fun time picking apart a puzzle with the tools you have, and we all collectively enjoy this! This is a valid way of designing strategy games, and I like what IntSys has done. However, it’s not the only way of making these games - for example, in Total War you have to juggle all your battalions in real time whilst the enemy is bearing down on you, and the XCOM games always have Fog of War and limited information on the enemies, with you never knowing what kind of awful new monster is going to suddenly charge at you. Don’t get me wrong, neither of these follow ‘combat as war’, the principle that violence should properly mimic the stress, tension and unfairness of actual conflict. Hell, neither of them are particularly mature either - Total War is the strategy game equivalent of smashing action figures together, and XCOM emulates a pulp sci-fi alien invasion story. However, the additional pressures these games have make them hew slightly closer to actual conflict, putting you more in that mindset in a way that the clean fun Fire Emblem doesn’t really do. Again, I want to say FE’s approach to violence in in-map gameplay is fine, but when all three of these franchises have an explicit narrative framing of ‘warfare’, it does make Fire Emblem’s narrative a little more… stretched.
Finally, I want to briefly mention the maps. To steal from a brilliant Jacob Geller video, these are Worlds Designed For Violence. At least outside of the Kaga games, the maps you fight on are primarily designed around how the player interacts with them, i.e. fights on them. While I imagine the narrative designers and artists at IntSys are involved throughout the map design process, the gameplay flow probably takes precedence most of the time. Maps are not designed to resemble realistic places that you have to fight through, they are instead designed primarily to provide fun gameplay experiences before being dressed up by the artists to look realistic/fit the specific story beat. This is a more consistently entertaining approach to map design - heaven knows we have a lot of Kaga castle assault maps which are as fun as actually assaulting an entrenched position IRL - but this lack of friction could potentially take the bite out of the intended vibe, neuter any commentary on violence throughout the story.
You may have noticed that we’ve only talked about the “in-map” gameplay for now, when there’s an entire second half of these games, i.e. all the gameplay between the maps. Don’t worry, we’ll get to all of that, but this may fit better in:

Something something “ludonarrative” something something (or Narrative Implications)

(To clarify, here I’m going to talk about the wider plots and narrative structure as opposed to characterisation, as that fits more into the aesthetics of the series)
It’s not bold to say that the narratives of games have to warp around the core gameplay structure. Especially in AAA video game production, the narrative designers usually have to take a back seat to the systems and level designers, at least outside of the initial rough outline they provide in the original game pitch. In this case, the job of the writer is to form vaguely coherent connective tissue between individual levels, setpieces and expensive pre-rendered cutscenes. This must be a very difficult job, and is probably the reason why most video game stories are the way they are. I am not privy to IntSys internal meetings, but I imagine they abide by this paradigm, trying to give a reason for why you fight 20 battles which roughly align with plot beats that were decided years ago.
Put another way, the writers of Fire Emblem must contrive a reason why the characters fight a vast number of violent battles in a strategic manner. This has a pretty easy solution - war! We have found something it’s good for, as whenever the gameplay designers decide that an extra map is required, the writers can just insert “oh no there’s a blockade of enemy soldiers in the way, guess you gotta kill them all”. This is the case for almost all the games and is a fair enough narrative choice, as it’s frankly one of the few scenarios where you could reasonably contrive so many battles, but it’s worth examining this in a bit more detail.
Even in the framing of warfare, there are still a lot of skirmishes, which sometimes the narrative or tone fails to support - or at least, their presence means that violence isn’t taken that seriously. Let’s take an example from early in Awakening: Emmeryn sends the Shepherds to negotiate an alliance with Regna Ferox. On the way, they are ambushed by Risen on the Northroad (1), have to fight the border guards who think Chrom is a bandit I think??? (2), and then after arriving they need to take part in Regna Ferox’s ritual combat to secure their alliance (3). These beats aren’t necessarily bad, and I actually think Awakening uses these opportunities quite well: the Risen are established as a constant threat to the world (except not really in the main story but that’s a whole other thing), “Marth'' gets more development, we set up Regna Ferox as fighty people who like to fight, and while the middle encounter is very tenuous it does set up a funny joke in Cynthia’s paralogue. However, I want to communicate that if the map/encounter designers need X maps between plot points A and B - in this case, needing low-stakes trials in the tutorial period - then there’s gonna be a fair bit of narrative filler. That is to say, there must be multiple combat encounters that kinda just happen, which makes violence a lot more casual in the narrative. See also the myriad examples of “oh shit random bandits attack!”, used to have a lower stakes map, with bandits appearing and vanishing as needed. This works fine enough in the context of ‘combat as sport’, allowing your favourite scrunglo to build up a triple-digit body count, but this casual attitude circumvents potentially interesting ideas with regards violence. Taking the example further, banditry and its causes are never seriously explored, as bandits are just treated as a filler enemy (except in Based As Hell Thracia 776).
Another narrative consequence of needing so many fights is that… you need to fight. That is to say, any anti-war sentiment or appeal to diplomacy in the series is fundamentally undercut by a) strategic combat being a core appeal of the series and b) narrative beats needing to be structured around fighting enemies. It’s a struggle to have moments of diplomacy and reconciliation when you had a fight within 3 minutes of said moment, lest some people start screaming that things are getting boring. This also makes any appeals to pacifism kinda moot. Xander’s quote about “war bad” in Conquest is utter bullshit, as a huge part of the marketing around that route focuses on the coolness of the tactical combat and its challenge. Eirika and Ephraim can never be equal, because Ephraim’s “fighting is fucken awesome” is encouraged by the gameplay, and Eirika can NEVER save 11037 because we need a final boss and no-one else fits the bill.
Speaking of, in video games it’s best practice to have a big bad guy you fight at the end of the story, the toughest mechanical challenge coinciding with the narrative climax. In Fire Emblem, you have one grand final battle which decides the fate of the war and/or world, before cutting to a brief wrap-up and then credits. This is an attempt to make these games satisfying, which is fine, but this is at odds with an anti-war message (which FE often gestures towards) - that is, actual wars tend to be deeply unsatisfying in a narrative sense! Oftentimes, after a decisive battle, things just kinda keep going for a little while afterwards with casualties continuing to pile up until peace terms are agreed. In the few cases where there is a final battle, it’s more of a formality as the decisive moment occurred months ago. See World War 1 and… World War 2 for examples of each, not to mention a whole host of war-related books and films. The problem with doing this in a video game is that it would require having multiple one-sided fights past the most climatic fight, which would be unfun, and we return to that fucking Reggie quote again. While video games can effectively explore this anti-war narrative space - This War of Mine is a fantastic example - it just doesn’t gel with the fun games that IntSys wants to make. I bring this up in the context of FE because Fire Emblem has such an aesthetic focus on warfare compared to other video games, so it sticks out even further. Even in FE6/FE9 where the war is effectively over in the final few maps, the enemies still remain extremely challenging, because if they didn’t things would be boring.
A few minor things that didn’t fit in above before we wrap up this section. First of all, in making an action packed story, Fire Emblem neglects an important aspect of army life in warfare - the “hurrying up and waiting”. In the majority of cases, the breaks between fights is under 10 minutes, it’s just glossed over. Fire Emblem Three Houses is the exception to this, but there it’s more framed as school life. Some people may say “what’s the point in having large amounts of timewasting where nothing happens in my game about war” and to that I would say fuck you, I want to play Jarhead Emblem. Next, Fire Emblem involves fighting people AND monsters, but these targets are typically given equal narrative weight, outside of maybe a funny line of dialogue about someone being afraid of monsters. In 99% of cases, enemy soldiers you fight have no more humanity than literal monsters. The death of any of your beloved soldiers is a tragedy with big sad death quotes, the death of those poor fuckers is quite literally a statistic which is proudly used to rank how well your guys have done at the end of the game. Finally, the limited scope of the violence the series can show limits the potential impact of scenes. In some cases, this is good as the implication is enough, e.g. the ‘Monica’ scene in Sacred Stones is wonderfully grim and would be weakened by anything explicit. However, a number of other scenes are neutered by the limitations on violence. This fundamentally relates to the aesthetics of the series:

insert prozd tweet/skit here (or Aesthetics, Tone, and Characters)

I’ve been talking a lot about ‘the violence committed’, and this might have seemed a bit weird to you. It’s a true statement, but because the violence is mostly cartoony and abstracted - bad guys disappear into nothingness, there’s no blood, etc - it’s hard to think of it in that way. It’s basically impossible to place Fire Emblem in the same artistic sphere as, say, All Quiet on the Western Front. This aesthetic sense was partially tech-limited in the early NES and SNES games, which was grandfathered into the more graphically complex titles, but it’s also related to how the aesthetics unavoidably warp the tone of the work. IntSys needs their games to be relatively lighthearted and unconcerned with the consequences of its violence, as one of the core appeals of these games is the charming cast of characters. As you would expect, it would be a lot harder to appreciate your goofy blorbos and their lighthearted chats about nothing if you could see the brutal consequences of their triple digit body counts. If violence was more realistic, there would be a lot less “ooh I like training and/or this one hyperspecific food” or “I like peace, but I guess violence may be possibly needed sometimes” and there would have to be a lot more trauma and dourness. There are also age rating concerns, as you can’t exactly sell Come And See Emblem to pre-teens. And once more, to clarify: Fire Emblem as it exists now is fine! I like the lighthearted tone of this series, and I like the characters that reside within it. However, a few problems do arise from IntSys’s approach to violence, as occasionally they brush up against darker ideas but (due to similar reasons to the above) they can never commit to them, which neuters their potential impact. This is especially troublesome with regards to characterisation, as the little dudes are a core appeal, so if something is off that could cause problems. In a sense, at points we have severe aesthetic tension.
A fairly useful case study to see how this affects characterisation is with Mozu in Fire Emblem Fates. Mozu is a charming character, a genial country bumpkin with a bit of an edge at times, who has fond memories of her hometown. This lines up with the lighthearted tone of her recruitment paralogue, where (checks notes) her entire village gets massacred by inhuman monsters, with her mother literally being murdered right in front of her, and she joins up with Corrin’s party because there is literally nothing left of her old life. I understand that people who experience extreme trauma do still manage to live meaningful lives, and that IntSys wouldn’t want to have a character who is a barely functional traumatised mess for 90% of the campaign. However, this doesn’t explain the sheer dissonance between the relatively normal and well-adjusted Mozu who quietly remembers her lost loved ones, and the fact that her village got My Lai’d a handful of weeks ago in the game’s timeline. IMO this would work a lot better if there were a few survivors (instead of literally everyone else dying), with Mozu actively choosing to leave her old life to help others instead of being forced to leave by circumstance. This reduction in scope would mitigate the dissonance between the character and what actually happens to her. This is by far the most extreme example in the series, however I’m sure you can think of others. My issue here is not with having ‘normal’ characters, or with them suffering tragedies, my issue is the dissonance between the two when viewing the scope of said tragedies. This is just one way the series wants to get into darker territory, then swiftly backing off instead of delving into the consequences.
This aesthetic restriction also affects the potential impact of dramatic scenes in the main story, limiting what the focus of these scenes can actually be. This little bit will involve heavy spoilers for Genealogy of the Holy War and Spec Ops: The Line (I KNOW THESE GAMES ARE VERY DIFFERENT WITH VERY DIFFERENT INTENDED DEMOGRAPHICS IN VERY DIFFERENT CULTURAL CONTEXTS, SHUT UP). Both have a very important narrative moment around their midpoints, involving fire magic/white phosphorus respectively. In each game, the deaths that occur are utterly horrific when you think about them. In FE4 the focus is on the drama of the plot twist and effects on the characters, with the actual effects of the violence being left to implication. We don’t know if this was the original intent of Kaga and the team, or if this was enforced by various tech- and publisher-related restrictions, but in either case we do not see anything explicit. In any case, in Spec Ops: The Line, the horror and graphic nature of the violence is completely inescapable, and therefore forms the core of the turning point of the story. The specifics of the violence itself are crucial - the game does not work if you don’t see the consequences of the white phosphorus - and it leads beautifully to the complete descent of its endgame. You may be saying “of course you couldn’t show that violence in FE, it’s a kids game” which is true, and in any case the scene in Genealogy is very good, even without showing the violence. I imagine if we get a remake in the year 202X we wouldn’t see anything explicit anyway, partially due to the publisher but also because the scene doesn’t necessarily need it. The point I am trying to make is that the aesthetics form a limitation on what Fire Emblem can explore, narrative space that the series fundamentally cannot reach.
One more thing, and this isn’t really about the games themselves but the impressions leading into them, and how the aesthetics can affect that. Do you guys remember when the intro cutscene of Three Houses was released a few weeks before release? I do, and I also remember the collective shock of the community when seeing the early previews. It was so drastically different to everything that had come before, and consequently was really intriguing - you can see a lot of speculation in the above comments. To clarify, I don’t want to pretend that 3H is some kind of super mature ultra gritty war story, or that blood = good game, but that beginning cutscene gave one hell of a first impression. Even though the game isn’t that much darker than any other FE game, the sheer unexpectedness put people off-kilter in a kinda awesome way. Does the game actually deliver? YMMV, but I think this (and some of the later cutscenes, such as the mid-game Dimitri one) work quite well. Sometimes, a little injection of harsher violence can go a long way.

Conclusion

Frankly I don’t really have a conclusion, sorry. As you can see, there are so many disparate strands, I can’t possibly make one grand thesis statement. Maybe the inherent contradictions of having warfare in a family friendly video game weakens the potential end result? I guess, but I don’t want to imply that what we have now is bad, as it is pretty good tbh. So, uhh…
…
OK, if I had to say something, it’s more about the process of making this. Having to try and think about how violence intersects with a video game you like takes you in a number of different directions. Ultimately, this process was really fulfilling for me, and I would recommend that you do the same (for FE or anything else)! Trying to analyse something you enjoy from a perspective not usually applied is pretty neat. If you guys have any thoughts (on the points above or your own), I’d be very interested to hear them!
Also, if people are interested, I’ll try to make a few case studies. I would focus on Thracia 776, Fates, and Three Houses, as (when thinking on this topic) I found that these games were consistently the most intriguing, with the most interesting relationships to violence. This would probably take a while though, as I am gonna be very busy in June, and I probably won’t have time this month either.

We’ve been together for 4 and a half years basically. We’ve know each other for 10. Liked each other in high school, life happened, I moved away, she had a kid, found our way back to each other, and ended up having a child of our own 2 years ago. To try and summarize, she feels once our daughter was born, that I got too comfortable and acted as though I knew she wasn’t going anywhere. I worked overnight construction for years, even before we got together, made it to a superintendent position, with a job where I averaged anywhere from 65-80+ hours a week. She was home with the kids, I didn’t make enough to put the kids in daycare, and couldn’t commit to any kind of permanent arrangement to assist her with taking care of the kids so she could work. The goal, since before we got together, was for me to leave my trade, but I made more money doing that, than we would have if we both started entry level jobs, not to mention then having to pay for daycares. I was offered help by my mother who lived out of state to bring me family over there with promises of help so we could make the changes necessary to restructure our life and improve our situation. I got here, worked in my same trade for a few months until the rain season began, and she immediately began her course to become a CNA, then started work as one, and makes decent money. Well she made a friend there, who I honestly can’t stand. I have NEVER told her who she can and can’t see, hang out with, talk to, nothing like that, she’s never given me a reason to doubt her, she has always been a loyal person and very honest. This friend of hers, without spending time on all the details and making this post even longer, tries encouraging my girlfriend to do things or think certain ways that I feel are detrimental to our relationship. Telling her she should start an OF, is one example, and when my girlfriend vented to her about an issue we had, told her that I am a narcissist like every guy she’s been with and to just leave me.
For some context, I forgot our anniversary. I think I’ve forgotten it almost every year, because it wasn’t really a special occasion, we talked about it a few months into our relationship basically saying “hey we’re dating right? Like this is official? What do we tell people if they ask what our anniversary is? Okay cool, sounds good, moving on.” I get it, that mindset was wrong of me. I also procrastinate on things like holidays, birthdays, whatever, and have had some instances where I really should have tried harder to make her feel special and appreciated. I used to do the hallmark movie corny stuff, I used to have a notebook I’d write in when I got home in the mornings while she was asleep about how I loved her, she’s beautiful, I appreciate her, blah blah. One time I set a path from the front door to the upstairs bath with candles, flower petals, where a bath was drawn, with red lights for ambiance and a bath bomb for her. It fell off because the honey moon phase ended, although I feel it lasted a long time, and life events happened that lead to some emotional dry spells on her part where she wasn’t ready to receive affection, her grandmother passing, having a miscarriage far along in our first pregnancy together, her step father dying, and then also the stresses of my job wearing me out, and getting comfortable subconsciously telling myself that even though I don’t always do those same things anymore, she knows I think she’s the greatest and I love her.
I have a bad habit that I’ve been working on for a few months now, where if she’d bring up things that made me nervous to think about or stress me out to plan, I would play too much and not take the situations seriously, and make her not feel heard as a result. I always teased that I don’t believe in legally getting married, that I’d take her to the courthouse and let her change her last name to mine and then we can have a ceremony after. 2 years ago I told her that wasn’t the case, and we finally talked about it where I told her that once our situation is right, in marrying her. I know in hindsight that I should have still placed it as a higher priority, but we never really talked about it further, and she clung to what I’d said before that about us never getting married. When our fighting started getting bad about 2 months ago, and we finally communicated what the underlying root of her unhappiness was, I had a huge perspective change. Some other big events happened, my step father who we lived with overdosed from fentanyl in our basement, and really changed my perspective on life and how quickly things can end and change and blah blah, to where I told her that I don’t want to fight, she is my one, and I want to marry her. She basically took it as me saying it out of fear to get her to stay. I’ve been trying to show her that I want to make the effort she is asking for. That she is as special to me as I say, but now in her mind she is taking an approach of “why did it take 4 years to get to this point.”
I never try to deny responsibility for my actions, I always try to be quick to reflect and acknowledge where I may have been wrong. But now I almost feel like my readiness to say okay I messed up by getting comfortable and not making you feel heard in these situations and everything else I’ve talked about, kind of seems like I’ve only made her feel completely validated in her idea that I have messed up for 4 years and just not appreciated her. I almost want to tell her that yes, I have slowed down and gotten comfortable, but no, there’s are so many examples of times I’ve still shown you how much I cared. I fear doing so will come off argumentative, and give her more fuel to the fire of her friend calling me a narcissist. Side note: she has since stopped getting advice from that friend, because she did come to the conclusion that her friend does not have her best interest, and has seen an uglier side to her as time has gone on, but I feel the seeds of discord have been sown.
I’m so sorry, I hope some of you with good intentions stick through all of this, and I know there’s other context that could help, but I guess I just need some ideas on what to do. 7 weeks ago we started fighting over petty day to day things, 5 weeks ago we finally established her root of unhappiness, 4 weeks ago she said she needed space, 2-3 weeks ago we said we were taking a break, and I feel her feelings of negativity have only grown. I’ve sucked at giving space admittedly, as time goes on I’ve gotten better though I fear damage has been further done by not doing great about accepting her request for space. Idk, we have a child together, I love both of the children like they’re my own blood, I’ve never felt this happy in a relationship (I know I’m young, still) and now that we’re finally hitting our goals with our lifestyle changes and career changes, now she’s finally gotten to this point of giving up.
Do I try giving her space, doing my own thing and seeing if that separation and seeing my positive activities draws her back in? Or has it gone on so long that that’s not going to work? Do I try saying finally “hey I acknowledge my mistakes, but in your attempts to focus on my wrong doings I feel like you’re ignoring all the good things I did and I’d like you to try remembering those? I don’t hit her, cuss at her, our heated fights can probably be counted on 1, maybe 2 hands, I don’t cheat, I provide, I’ve taken care of the kids just about by myself for the past 5 months to give her room to get her new profession down, I cook and clean every night, not to be crass but our intimate life is very good, I know I deliver for her on that account, and I’m someone who is always willing to apologize and adapt and adjust. Any advice that isn’t slanderous to either of us would be awesome, I get at this point that if it’s too late then I need to just start preparing for that eventuality and working on myself, but for the sake of keeping my family together, I want to exhaust all of my options to make this work.