Background
The Dunmer population of Windhelm is composed primarily of refugees (or born of refugees) who escaped Vvardenfel’s disastrous living conditions after the eruption of the Red Mountain in 4E 5, known as the Red Year. The migration of most of these refugees likely took place in the years following the disaster. In the roughly 200 years since, they’ve built a sizable community within Windhelm’s ghetto, formerly known as the Snow Quarter. The squalor they live in during the present time (4E 201) is indicative of their long struggle to integrate with the Nord majority. Now, why has there been such a struggle?
According to a variety of non-Dunmer NPC dialogue, the common sentiment is that the Dunmer keep to themselves, they do not try to integrate, they do not work hard, and they do not get involved with the war effort. The in-game book Scourge of the Gray Quarter by Frilgeth Horse-Breaker makes many complaints on the Dunmer’s existence in Windhelm, reiterating such sentiments and claiming they do not contribute to the city. That the book makes reference to Ulfric as jarl, it can be assumed that these are at the very least the sentiments of the present time.
The Struggle
The book notably compares the Dunmer of Windhelm to the Dunmer of Riften, claiming the Dunmer of Riften are able to integrate because they are more hard working and engage in honest labor. In this explanation the writer (quite obviously) shows their bias in they neglect the crucial detail of describing the cities themselves. The people of Riften do not have the same level of xenophobia that those in Windhelm do. They do not have a jarl whose actions encourage the separation of multiple “outsider” groups and Nords. The people of Riften engage with the Dunmer like they would anyone else, contrasted with Windhelm where a Dunmer is more often than not labeled as an “outsider”.
The treatment of Dunmer refugees in Riften also differ in that they were not relegated to a ghetto. This is not to say that Windhelm explicitly forbids Dunmer from buying homes outside of the Gray Quarter (although dialogue of Aval Atheron might suggest so), but rather they are not afforded social mobility as a whole. According to Malthyr Elenil ‘s dialogue, the Quarter “wasn't always so bad”. Judging by the architecture relative to the rest of the city, I’d argue that this Quarter was a slum prior to the Dunmer arrival. In essence, it was a slum before they got there and it remains a slum today (if not worse), but is it the fault of the Dunmer? According to the dialogue of Scouts-Many-Marshes, an Argonian living on the Windhelm docks, it is implied that an Argonian working in Windhelm makes 8 septims per day plus lodging, presumably a tenth the wage of a “proper Nord worker”. Whether or not this “tenth” is an exaggeration or not, Scouts refers to this level of pay as akin to slave labor. Comparing the squalor of the Argonians and the Dunmer, and taking into account the kind of jobs available to them in this city, it can be fairly assumed that the Dunmer do not make much more money than the Argonians when working for the Windhelm Nords. Contrasted again with Riften, where no such race based pay gap seems to exist. How can the Dunmer be expected then, to adequately maintain their neighborhoods on a pay that is a mere fraction of a Nords?
Trying to make a comparison of “work ethic” between the Dunmer of Riften and Windhelm is inherently unfair when you ignore the near diametric social conditions of the two cities. This is also indicative of the Windhelm Nord’s refusal to acknowledge the roots of Dunmer issues. The old jarls of Windhelm may have accepted the refugees, but the Nord citizens have clearly endeavored to keep them at an arm’s length, leading to the segregation of the Windhelm Dunmer we see today.
The “Good Ones” and the Model Minority
Many might look upon Beylyn Hlaalu as proof that any Dunmer can work their way out of poverty. He is the only Dunmer land owner in Windhelm, a proud man who credits his success to his hard work and resents the poorer Dunmer for complaining. But what many fail to consider is that he is a descendent of House Hlaalu, a former Great House of Morrowind. Although House Hlaalu at this point has lost all major political power, they’re still a family of considerable wealth and influence in Raven Rock, albeit under a fake name. I find it rather likely then, in a culture who so values clanship, that Beylyn Hlaalu has had monetary support from his wealthy relatives in order to at the very least kickstart his farm. And although there are no explicit pieces of lore that support this, one must wonder if it is truly coincidence that the shining example of Dunmer success is one born from a not too distantly historically powerful family.
The successes of the Altmer residents in Windhelm are also cited as proof of Dunmer failings. They are Nurelion, Niranye, Ulundil, and his wife Arivanya. Niranye is presumably the newest Altmer migrant to the city, saying she's only just arrived from the Summerset Isles. She is the only one of the Altmer to make references to mistreatment by Nords, claiming that it was difficult at first but she'd eventually proved her usefulness. Clearly she has been able to integrate with Nord society, and once again it is credited as her own hard work. But is that completely true? There are three factors for her ease of integration that are being ignored here: Unlike the Dunmer, the Altmer arrived as business minded merchants and not as refugees, There were already well established and respected Altmer living in the city prior to her arrival, and her business is unfairly propped up by her dealings with crime guilds. Her business directly competes with that of Ravyn Sadri, a Dunmer general goods merchant. By acquiring her goods through her criminal connections and selling at absurdly low prices, she is able to quite easily undercut Ravyn’s business, who operates honestly.
Referencing Scourge of the Gray Quarter again, the writing finishes by claiming that Windhelm Argonians should be the model for Dunmer behavior and acceptance. They write that the Argonian “has learned how to best contribute to their new home…toiling with utmost efficiency and bright smiles”. Once again this text omits crucial details. The Argonians are forbidden, by decree of Ulfric Stormcloak, from entering the city. And make no mistake, this segregation is not because of the racial tensions between Dunmer and Argonian. According to dialogue from Brunwulf Free-Winter it was primarily due to Ulfric’s distrust of foreigners and Nord stubbornness. They are only permitted to reside on the docks and, as stated before, make a mere fraction of the pay of a Nord worker because of the explicit reason of not being a Nord. This is the proposed model for acceptance? Exploitation, racial hierarchy, and wage slavery? Who reads Scourge of the Gray Quarter, looks at the Argonians, and genuinely thinks they’ve successfully integrated?
When holding these so-called examples of Dunmer failures to light, it’s clear to see that they hold little water. The successes of the “good ones” are not wholly the result of pulling themselves up by their bootstraps, but likely by benefitting from pre existing privileges that gave them an advantage over the Dunmer as a whole. And the proposed solution for those without such privileges? Becoming servile and catering to the Nords at the Dunmer’s own expense. In the face of mistreatment and mistrust by the majority group, an administration that refuses to listen to them, racially biased pay gaps, a competition that cheats them, and wage slavery: how rational is it to say all they need to do is “work harder”?
Another Man’s War
A common criticism of the Windhelm Dunmer is that they refuse to join Ulfric Stormcloak’s war effort. Many claim that it is their duty as residents of Windhelm, that they owe a debt to the city for taking them in as refugees 200 years ago. But I ask you this, why should they fight on behalf of a system that harms them? It should first be said that the Stormcloak Rebellion’s primary function is to release Skyrim from the rule of the Empire, so that Skyrim’s people may solely be governed by those who live in Skyrim (Ignoring for a moment that Ulfric’s rebellion was set in motion by the Thalmor to weaken the Empire, according to the Thalmor Dossier). An admirable sentiment, but it has manifested itself as highly xenophobic and oftentimes hostile (most commonly verbally) to those who are not Nords. In the case of the Windhelm Dunmer, it has led to the local Nords being more distrustful than ever before. More dialogue from Brunwulf indicates the escalation of racial tension in the city is primarily the result of Ulfric’s “Skyrim for the Nords” rhetoric. This paired with Ulfric’s complete apathy towards the issues faced by non-Nords in his hold communicates a hatred towards them and systematically harms them.
Many players are under the impression that the Dunmer received free housing and live tax free due to what is written in the Decree of Monument."untithed to any thane or hold, and self-governed, with free worship, with no compensation to Skyrim or the Empire”. I’d argue the text is referring to taxes rather than housing, and no other in-game source makes reference to the housing situation either. But does that mean it is true that the Dunmer don’t pay taxes? One of the outcomes of Revyn Sadri’s quest results in him having to pay “increased taxes” to the city of Windhelm, implying that yes, the Dunmer are currently paying taxes. I do not think it is likely that only Revyn or only some Dunmer are paying taxes. It can be fairly assumed then that at some point between 4E 20 (when the monument was placed) and the present time of 4E 201, the Dunmer were made to pay taxes like any other citizen. As for housing, I find it unlikely the Dunmer received the Gray Quarter for free. As stated earlier, it was likely a slum to begin with, meaning it would’ve been considerably cheap to move in. Perhaps offered to them at a reduced price. It is important to note that the Dunmer being refugees at the beginning does not automatically mean they were penniless upon arrival, likely poor, but it would be unrealistic to assume all of them had nothing at all. Realizing now that the Dunmer of Windhelm are tax paying citizens who are continually ignored and othered by their ruler, it surely must be understandable then why they would refuse to fight on behalf of a system that at this point only takes from them. They owe the Nordic administration no loyalty
Conclusion
With a ruling majority that will more often than not shun, insult, or exploit them, It is no wonder then how the Dunmer of Windhelm as a whole have not been able to integrate, that they “keep to themselves”, that they “don’t contribute to the city”. For how can one integrate with those who refuse to ever fully accept them? If you wonder why they do not leave, with what funds could they start anew? If you wonder why they dont help the Nords in their war, why would they fight for a cause that harms them? The system is as the system does, and that system is racism.
Author’s Note
Idk what I wrote all this for lmao. Ive been playing skyrim for over a decade so I guess I thought it would be interesting to engage with the game in another way that's new to me. It was only recently that I got more interested in actually talking to NPCs, learning more about the game world, not just in it for the cool fights and jiggle physics mods (tho i do love em). There's a good degree of guess work here, which I suppose is to be expected with what few pieces that are available we can put together. But I tried to cite as much from official lore as I can. Was def fun trying to take a more nuanced lens to this fantastical game world.
But what do you think? Do you think my analysis is accurate? I'd love to see your opinions on the topic!
SOURCES
https://elderscrolls.fandom.com/wiki/Red_Year
https://elderscrolls.fandom.com/wiki/Scourge_of_the_Gray_Quarter
https://elderscrolls.fandom.com/wiki/Malthyr_Elenil
https://elderscrolls.fandom.com/wiki/Aval_Atheron
https://elderscrolls.fandom.com/wiki/Scouts-Many-Marshes
https://elderscrolls.fandom.com/wiki/Belyn_Hlaalu#Conversations
https://elderscrolls.fandom.com/wiki/House_Hlaalu#Fourth_Era
https://elderscrolls.fandom.com/wiki/Vendil_Severin
https://elderscrolls.fandom.com/wiki/Niranye
https://elderscrolls.fandom.com/wiki/Revyn_Sadri
https://elderscrolls.fandom.com/wiki/Brunwulf_Free-Winter
https://elderscrolls.fandom.com/wiki/Thalmor_Dossier:_Ulfric_Stormcloak
https://en.m.uesp.net/wiki/Skyrim:Decree_of_Monument

My (F29) 2 friends (both F30) from university have created a group chat and are urging me to go to Japan with them, since tickets are cheap right now. I told them that I will be going twice this year already, so I will have to pass on going with them and they can just go together. I don’t want to go with them at all, because I went with them to a different prefecture in Japan 6 years ago and we had so many differences. They are always looking for the cheapest things and places regardless of where it is and what it is. I also had to plan everything and make the itinerary and buy tickets for everything. I was also the designated train expert. I’m okay with staying in cheap hotels as long as it’s in a good location and the bathroom is clean. I’m also okay with taking trains and walking instead of taking taxis, since the price difference is insane and I love walking anyways. What I’m not okay with is eating at 7/11s, family marts, or random restaurants that have 1 star reviews but are cheap. I know I sound crazy, but I love food. I love to eat. I especially love to eat when I’m on vacation. I’m not rich by any means, but I would rather save up and eat whatever I want and go to whatever attraction I want on vacation rather than go there and just stare at food and places I cannot afford. Eating while on vacation is one of the best experiences. Especially in Japan! When I went with them 6 years ago, I wanted to try this yakiniku restaurant, but they did not, since they found it to be expensive. It was about 30USD per person. I acquiesced since they both didn’t want to eat there. They chose this random restaurant with a more affordable menu. The food was about 10USD per dish. I just ate ice cream, because the food did not look appetizing at all and even they were having a hard time finishing it. The bill came and we were all shocked. There was a random door charge that was about $10 each person. I was pissed. They wanted to complain to the waitress, but how in the world were we going to complain when it was probably normal in that area. I just stayed quiet the rest of the night and told myself to just let it go. The next day came and we were in line at this famous tonkatsu restaurant. It was about $20 per meal and when we sat down they only ordered one croquette ($5) per person because they didn’t have want to order a $20 meal. The croquette wasn’t even that big so they were still hungry. My meal was a set and was refillable, so they just ate my rice and soup. It was honestly really embarrassing, because the waitress was staring at us and I just wanted to melt. I’m not dragging them to $100 per meal restaurants here. I completely understand that people have different budgets for different things, but I feel like this is too extreme. We also went to a theme park and instead of riding different rides, they got tired after 3, and wanted to just sit down the rest of the day. I had to go around by myself, because they were too tired. We meet about once a year, because our schedules are too different. Even when we meet I cannot help but think we are just growing apart. We have so many different views on things. We recently went out to dinner and we were just having a good time when one of them mentioned a very delicate topic about another young woman. This woman had an intimate video of her released when she was a minor and they were making fun of her. I saw red. I didn’t shout at them or anything, but I reprimanded them for being vile and I told them if they were going to continue with this conversation, I was leaving. They always stick up for each other, so it always feels like I’m in the wrong, but this time I didn’t back down. They told me I was ruining the dinner, so I said it wouldn’t be ruined in the first place if they just acted like well raised adults. We all went home soon after that. They’ve been acting like nothing happened and have been messaging me and still asking me to go to dinners with them, but I just don’t want to anymore. I can’t help feeling sad, because we’ve been friends for over a decade. They’re going to ask me to go with them again somewhere sometime in the future, and I don’t know how to tell them I don’t want to go with them without hurting their feelings. I’m not even sure if I still want to be friends. I know we’re all old enough to talk about this maturely, but these two are not very mature. When I mentioned that I was already going this year, they both said that it’s because I didn’t want to see them and I was choosing my other friends over them. I don’t know how to handle these two, because all my other friends act their age. My 14 year old sister is easier to reason with. What do I do?

My (F29) 2 friends (both F30) from university have created a group chat and are urging me to go to Japan with them, since tickets are cheap right now. I told them that I will be going twice this year already, so I will have to pass on going with them and they can just go together. I don’t want to go with them at all, because I went with them to a different prefecture in Japan 6 years ago and we had so many differences. They are always looking for the cheapest things and places regardless of where it is and what it is. I also had to plan everything and make the itinerary and buy tickets for everything. I was also the designated train expert. I’m okay with staying in cheap hotels as long as it’s in a good location and the bathroom is clean. I’m also okay with taking trains and walking instead of taking taxis, since the price difference is insane and I love walking anyways. What I’m not okay with is eating at 7/11s, family marts, or random restaurants that have 1 star reviews but are cheap. I know I sound crazy, but I love food. I love to eat. I especially love to eat when I’m on vacation. I’m not rich by any means, but I would rather save up and eat whatever I want and go to whatever attraction I want on vacation rather than go there and just stare at food and places I cannot afford. Eating while on vacation is one of the best experiences. Especially in Japan! When I went with them 6 years ago, I wanted to try this yakiniku restaurant, but they did not, since they found it to be expensive. It was about 30USD per person. I acquiesced since they both didn’t want to eat there. They chose this random restaurant with a more affordable menu. The food was about 10USD per dish. I just ate ice cream, because the food did not look appetizing at all and even they were having a hard time finishing it. The bill came and we were all shocked. There was a random door charge that was about $10 each person. I was pissed. They wanted to complain to the waitress, but how in the world were we going to complain when it was probably normal in that area. I just stayed quiet the rest of the night and told myself to just let it go. The next day came and we were in line at this famous tonkatsu restaurant. It was about $20 per meal and when we sat down they only ordered one croquette ($5) per person because they didn’t have want to order a $20 meal. The croquette wasn’t even that big so they were still hungry. My meal was a set and was refillable, so they just ate my rice and soup. It was honestly really embarrassing, because the waitress was staring at us and I just wanted to melt. I’m not dragging them to $100 per meal restaurants here. I completely understand that people have different budgets for different things, but I feel like this is too extreme. We also went to a theme park and instead of riding different rides, they got tired after 3, and wanted to just sit down the rest of the day. I had to go around by myself, because they were too tired. We meet about once a year, because our schedules are too different. Even when we meet I cannot help but think we are just growing apart. We have so many different views on things. We recently went out to dinner and we were just having a good time when one of them mentioned a very delicate topic about another young woman. This woman had an intimate video of her released when she was a minor and they were making fun of her. I saw red. I didn’t shout at them or anything, but I reprimanded them for being vile and I told them if they were going to continue with this conversation, I was leaving. They always stick up for each other, so it always feels like I’m in the wrong, but this time I didn’t back down. They told me I was ruining the dinner, so I said it wouldn’t be ruined in the first place if they just acted like well raised adults. We all went home soon after that. They’ve been acting like nothing happened and have been messaging me and still asking me to go to dinners with them, but I just don’t want to anymore. I can’t help feeling sad, because we’ve been friends for over a decade. They’re going to ask me to go with them again somewhere sometime in the future, and I don’t know how to tell them I don’t want to go with them without hurting their feelings. I’m not even sure if I still want to be friends. I know we’re all old enough to talk about this maturely, but these two are not very mature. When I mentioned that I was already going this year, they both said that it’s because I didn’t want to see them and I was choosing my other friends over them. I don’t know how to handle these two, because all my other friends act their age. My 14 year old sister is easier to reason with. What do I do?

Yes.. Yess.. Alright there Daddy, I mean Danny. Yeah shut the fuck up.
Verse on Danny: Dear Tank I wrote you a letter. See my daddy wasnt there so now I crave attention. See I would do anything I can to ride your wave for mentions. Even pretended you dissed me just to create dissention. I dug through all you and Pop's songs just to find some ammunition, now im all out of lotion. So my dick burns and my hand is itching. I posted that Pop said some racist shit on Facebook, but changed the title cause I couldnt get your friends to listen. I cant do numbers and I need the advice. I paid my mom for her to advertise me, I need the hype. I hope you see this dog it eases me to sleep at night. Whats it like to actually be dope and have a buzz? I paid Gnat, but I still cant break 20 friends. I wear this crown but my throne is really full of malus. I cant picture me without the drugs.
Verse on John: Dear Tank, I kept tagging you 6 months ago you wouldn't respond. You owe me dog dont leave me here for long. While your out living life and doing things I wish I could, I spend all day on the internet trying to get some looks. I know I said I was straight but yet played victim hook, cause I aint killed nobody. Im not built like that I lived in hoods. Got too much hate up on my diss so I deleted it. I tryna bait me but I miss. So much for clicks and dislikes. I really hate that im a bitch. I cant do shit but diss right? I cant create a single hit. So I take hits from this pipe. Miss shells in the nozzle, got hit with the nasal spay. The Boogeyman of this Bu cocky shit. The only shots are on my face, Im prolly sick, its prolly jizz, I prolly need some molly shit to take this pain away. I just delay it shit. Eyes red, I feel my hood in your hoodie man. Im tryna weather days but im not Boogie Man. Critiqued you for your mental health cause I dont get complexities. Im a simple man with simple bars. I kill a man, Jarrott. it makes sense right? But when you kill a man get jarred hoe. Get sentenced for life. Im just a lonely man with no friends or bodies to show. And if I end it all tomorrow? Shit nobody would know.
Oh we just having fun now.. Let me show yall how to make a diss..
Verse on Gnat: Im waiting, im patient, you baited. You made a grenade on this paper, pull the pen ive been waiting. How you gonna claim wins from your moms basement, you aint got no Ems on your plate list. The crown you been claiming? It aint raining! 5 months Gnat still no reply. John asked about me when his own squad going poltergeist. Dont throw the fight. John started his rap rhyming rap shit 4 times. But you wanna claim im the one whoes lazy? Shit im bored of you poor rhymes. Gnat's masculine hardcore? When he the one clapping back with insults about Star Wars. Outrap me. Come on Gnat roll up. Its Ironic that im Emo. The fuck you killing yourself for? Zareem already murdered you, Stan aint nobody heard of you. Only time you fucks catching bodies in the morgue, you murdered who? Shit the first 48 hours. I know whoes missing. Pop already covered you, exposed you for your googling. Your bars dont connect, dont hide that phone when you spitting no? You need more practice. Unlike LLR this is real life. You claim I run but yet I still fight, outrapped you on your own rhyme scheme, Gnat just got killed twice.
Verse on all 3: Hold up change it up, something yall dont know how to do with that same old boring ass style. Lotta Danny, Got no time for your problems. The shit you spit is nonsense. Begged Ren to do a song with you then he robbed you. How many of us you paying money to gaslight you with fake praise and fake opinions. Gnat calls himself a king? Well thank the lord for me. Got a buzz off my name? now im claiming your royalties. John upset that it took me 1 month, dog it took you 5 months to clap back, you brag about that? 24 hours im back on the track. Get your fat ass back on the track and move quicker. Or maybe not cause your movements sus. And now your mad attacking me cause your raps all suck. Acting like these are lies? Bitch grow up. How about you switch that flow up. Coming with the same cadence dog? We be bored of your shit. You an obsessed little ex whoring for clicks. I feel bad man, Dont be mad stan. Heres a trash can.. For your diss. I stay living in your head without rent. Gnat, better learn your history.. Kings they get beheaded. "The the Boogeyman cause everybody scared of me". What a dope bar, your such a rarity. Talking like you next up. You been here since 2017 where's the check huh? Your best disses got my name in them, Im a Free copy right? Let me put my claim on it. Every time you tag me ill be monetizing you while you advertise me. And fantasize about my friends. Just know I got here without you. So keep on moving, you just a lame whoes pretending. Use my name for the ascension, but my reigns are too extensive. Stay in your lane, got no engine. You start clenching and your plugged in the rear, with no luck and no career. Whoes scared of this dude. Your times up..
Honestly I wasnt even gonna go after you. But theres certain lines you just dont cross. Tryna target my legitimacy? Going after my friends? Calling out anyone you can to diss me and paying them? Danny theres ways to move in this industry properly. You put your hand out and its gonna get slapped. Get back in your fucking lane.
Free's note: Tank is known for having a pen, hes known for his pen and his bars. Like if your gonna say that he doesnt have it cause it went over your fucking head.. You need to look in the mirror. John I did do a speech with you in 2022. That was before you became a big bitch. Bitch ass fuck with nothing better to do than diss. Go back to dissing your mom, cause thats your only good diss John.

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?”

I wrote mini reviews of each arc here, but because there are so damn many arcs, this ended up being a wall of text, despite me trying to keep them short. Feel free to skim or read only what interests you!
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The episodic nature of Assassin’s Creed: Valhalla means that its narrative is split into chunks. These chunks take place across the many shires of medieval England and vary in terms of length, depth and, well, pointlessness. I thought ranking them would be a fun exercise — a competition of story arcs, all vying for best Viking mini-narrative.
It goes without saying, but I’m about to spoil the whole damn game, so read at your own risk.
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21. Wincestre
Wincestre is just another Lunden or Jorvik, accept with more Jesus, more King Aelfred and way less… anything worthwhile. This one was just a total nothing-burger of an experience. The fact that it comes so late in the narrative really hurts it, too, because by now you’ve experienced arcs that are a similar traditional Assassin’s Creed city-style that at least aren’t this bad. Aelfred’s turning on Eivor at the end also didn’t feel coherent, convincing or warranted to me. Big miss.
20. Lunden
The smaller, denser cities with multiple targets to track down and ‘social stealth’ options are certainly here to attempt to replicate the traditional AC experience, but Lunden fails to do so meaningfully, and even gets a huge points deduction for being misleading.
The arc is set up to feature twists with Stowe and Ercke (is one a traitor? Will your romancing of Stowe make things complicated?), but after their initial scenes they’re mitigated to what I would hardly even call side characters as Eivor unveils three randos as Order members, kills them and then leaves town. At least there was a cool boss sequence on the river?
19. Snotinghamscire
This arc sees you reunite with Hemmingr Jarl, his son Villi and his compatriot, Trygve. Eivor has an existing relationship with these characters, but the player doesn’t. As a result, nothing that happens with them lands meaningfully.
After Hemmingr passes, this arc boils down to running dull errands to prepare for the burial ceremony. Eivor chooses whether Villi or Trygve will succeed Hemmingr in the end, but the decision is very clear-cut and suggested to the player, lacking the nuance of the game’s other difficult decisions. This arc isn’t memorable, doesn’t concern the main quest, and feels like fluffy filler in the worst way.
18. Jorvik
Another version of the Lunden & Wincestre arcs, Jorvik is stronger than its competitors for presenting the Order members to your face before you deduce who they are. There was nothing shocking about their reveals, but each provided an interesting set piece to navigate during assassinations.
Problematically, the arc sets itself up for Eivor to accuse a traitor, only for her decision to not matter at all. You never get to act on your accusation at Yuletide — the Order member interrupts and attacks the feast no matter who you accuse.
17. Cent
The Cent arc sees Eivor team with Basim to track Fulke. It feels important and part of the main story, but it’s all for naught in the end — you come face-to-face with Fulke in what seems like a meaningful story moment, only for her to run away. Your reward is finding out Sigurd had his arm cut off.
This arc earns some points for getting Fulke screen time and tiptoeing the tightrope of Eivor and Basim’s rocky relationship believably, but certainly can’t be called good. This is because once you pull back the veil, you realize you never advanced the plot and were running in circles for nothing the entire time. At least the other “filler” arcs were forthright about their (lack of) connection to the main story.
16. Jotunheim
This arc has a compelling story to it — Odin running from his fate and bending over backwards to flee from it is interesting, his broken relationship with Loki should be a strong point for the arc, and his moral gray areas (sleeping with a Jotunn, betraying Tyr) certainly make for a complex character’s development.
It has the ingredients of a strong arc, but I just couldn’t shake the why am I doing this feeling I had the entire time. Everything in between Odin’s big moments is a fetch quest and I just felt like I was wasting my life.
This one is weird because on paper it feels like there’s a lot of substance here, but ultimately, I felt nothing while playing it besides contempt for having drank the potion in Ravensthorpe again.
15. Lincolnscire
Heir to the throne Hunwald is exiled from Lincoln and reaches out to Ravensthorpe for help. Eivor tracks down his sickly and dying father and then must cast the deciding vote for whom the new Ealdorman will be after his death.
The game wastes your time with one of Hunwald’s competitors, Aelfgar, (who is a dork) and paints the bishop as evil pretty clearly (he turns out to be an Order member). I suppose this arc could hit hard for someone who accidently put an Order member in charge. For that and for Hunwald at least having a strong drive and personality, this arc earns some marks.
14. Essex
Eivor is brought in to repair a marriage by separating husband and wife naturally without a public divorce. She reunites Ealdorman Birstan with his former lover and sets up a fake public kidnapping to whisk away his wife, Estrid.
I think many would rate this arc far lower than I have here because it is pure side mission nonsense — but for me, this arc stands strong on the backs of convincing and fun characters in Birstan and Estrid, as well as the tangled web of relationships between the two of them, Birstan’s son, and Rollo, Estrid’s former lover.
13. Ledecestrescire
Ledecestre sees the intros of Ivarr, Ubba and Ceowulf. You team up with the sons of Ragnar to help put Ceowulf’s father on the throne in Mercia.
Ledecestrescire earns points for strong, realized characters in the Ragnarsons and Ceowulf, a believable conflict with the Mercian king, as well as the arc’s biggest moment with killing or sparing Leofrith in Tamworth.
12. Asgard
Asgard looks pretty and hits hard when you first arrive. I appreciate Ubi for creating places like Atlantis and Asgard to run around and explore in.
Unfortunately, both felt supremely empty. However, watching Odin fight tooth and nail to run from his fate was satisfying and Loki is aptly deceptive and frustrating. The Builder gave the arc a nice wrinkle, too and climaxed with a nice boss fight.
I spent too much time tracking down tears, but I think if you look at just the main missions here, this is a solid experience in an incredible environment.
11. East Anglia
In this arc, Eivor works alongside Oswald to fend off violent Dane aggressors and claim his leadership role.
Oswald is honorable and likeable — watching him teach the Danes in his court that bravery can reveal itself in more nuanced ways rather than physically was powerful, and giving Eivor the decision to allow Oswald to fight his own battles or fight for him solidified the feeling of fathering Oswald through this arc into manhood and leadership.
I bought into this arc because I felt the story was touching and meaningful and the cast was strong.
10. Vinland
Nothing really happens here aside from hunting down Gorm Kjotveson, but the arc earns major points for how refreshing it is.
I played it late in the story when I was feeling quite a bit of fatigue towards the game and everything about Vinland just landed for me, giving me new energy to actually enjoy what I was doing.
The new landscape is insanely gorgeous and fun to navigate. The stripping down of Eivor’s equipment essentially forces you to start from scratch — but it really makes the four stealth encounters stronger; you have to approach them differently due to being unarmed and unarmored.
The whole thing was a little bit of a reset button for the entire experience of Valhalla and it sorely needed it.
9. Suthsexe
Suthsexe is the meeting with Guthrum and the rising action leading up to defeating Fulke.
The arc is fun, feels impactful as well as meaningful and sees you reunite with all the old friends you’ve made up to this point. Fighting alongside Soma and others was a big positive for me. Storming Fulke’s fort at least included some different mechanics than many forts up to this point, so it felt fresh. Her boss fight in the darkness of the crypts was exceptional, as was her confession sequence.
This arc was mostly good, satisfying fun the whole way through, but didn’t include too much intrigue as the ones ranked above it did.
8. Rygjafylke
Look, I’ll be honest. I’m writing this particular paragraph after completing the game and this opening section was so long ago that I don’t have a great memory of it.
What I do know is that Valhalla opened strongly. I found it all pretty compelling. I remember it being atmospheric, believable and driven by strong characters like Sigurd, Varin, Haytham, Basim and Kyotve. I was bought-in very early and Rygjafylke really got the game off to a strong start.
7. Hamtunscire & Epilogue
Aelfred screen time is a good thing, and this arc earns marks for his badassery in the face of Guthrum, as well as his manipulation of the Dane army. Ally deaths in the battle at Chepeham give the arc meaningful stakes and ratchet up the tension. This arc is brief and straightforward — there’s not much story to it since it’s really just war throughout the whole thing.
Afterwards, Eivor tracks down the final member of the Order and confronts him in a touching sequence over some burnt bread in a small swampy town in the middle of nowhere. It’s a humble conclusion for Aelfred and the swirling epic that was AC: Valhalla.
6. Hordafylke
The return to Norway contains two things: Eivor & Sigurd finding closure with Sigurd’s father, and the two locating “Yggdrasil.”
I quite enjoyed the pit stop with Sigurd’s father, and the entire Yggdrasil sequence was incredibly interesting. It was a refreshing change of pace from what you’ve been doing for the past 100 hours and featured a nice boss fight at the end. No matter which ending you get, the conversation with Sigurd after the dust settles is impactful and weighty.
5. Oxenefordscire
Finally reunited with Sigurd, this is the arc we learn of his obsession with his ancestry and true nature. Eivor’s reaction of discomfort and distrust towards Sigurd’s change is honest and relatable and she must juggle relations between Sigurd and the Thane they are working to put in charge, Gaedric.
Negotiations with King Aelfred are complex and a late intervention from Fulke reveals her true allegiance to the Order and puts Sigurd in enemy hands.
This arc moves the plot along moreso than the last 400 hours you’ve been playing the game, while also establishing and reinterpreting Eivor’s relations with the cast in meaningful ways. It ratchets up the tension of the main quest and narrative, which up to this point had been lagging behind due to a breadth of shire arcs.
4. Glowecestrecire
I’m so surprised to see myself rank this so high — after the first third of the arc, I was considering putting it in dead last. I felt Gunnar’s fiancé’s unintelligible dialogue, the trick-or-treating, the druid encounter, and Eivor’s 400th drunken night of debauchery to be a disrespectful waste of my time this deep (over 80 hours) into the game.
But then the arc turned, with two solid stealth encounters and a stellar boss fight. Navigating the Aelfwood was a gorgeous thrill and the confrontation with Modran is atmospheric and a fantastically fresh take on the typical Valhalla boss or mini boss fight.
When I decided to focus-up on the story and let the Celtic and Welsh mythos shine, the arc became a terrestrial fever dream of satisfying magic, intrigue and character interactions.
3. Grantebridgescire
Eivor looks to ally with Soma, the leader of Grantebridge, but her town’s just been sacked from the inside by a traitor. After saving her three companions in the thick river bogs, you take back Grantebridge and then embark on an investigation to discover the rat.
Its the investigation that makes the whole arc. It has a slew of clues, nuance and red herrings to consider. One of its strengths is how open ended the investigation is — you can follow the quest markers, but talking to the town’s people and hunting down the yellow-painted ship is up to you (at least I think, I played on the most ‘difficult’ exploration setting).
This arc earns big points because the investigation matters — you have to tell Soma to kill one of her closest friends and then watch her do it, living with your right or wrong decision.
2. Eurvicscire
Finally meeting the third of the famed Ragnarson’s, Eivor finds Halfdan a paranoid soul, waxing poetic about friendship and treason. The arc balances the two on a blade’s edge to tremendous effect.
Halfdan believes he has a traitor in his midst and the main culprit is his right-hand man, Faravid.
Faravid's dialogue is expertly written to feign allegiance to Halfdan, but never reveal too much of his true nature. Eivor’s wavering relationship and trust with him are complex and the Wolf-Kissed can lie to both him and Halfdan depending on dialogue choice. Every decision feels like it carries weight. It’s this ambiguity that makes the arc compelling and gives the decisions importance.
This arc could feel disconnected (it’s not part of the main plot and Halfdan doesn’t appear in the late game, no matter your decision) and thus appear as pointless fluff, but I won’t fault it for that. As a self-contained story, this was flat-out interesting and kept me in anticipation of the next reveal or twist. Imagery and foreshadowing, red-herrings, and great atmosphere all make for an engaging and compelling experience. I only wish every shire arc could’ve reached these heights.
1. Sciropscire
Sciropescire’s strengths come somewhat from the arcs that came before it, as it sees Eivor quickly reunited and working with Ivarr and Ceowulf. Your preexisting relationship with both gives this arc an advantage over others where it doesn’t have to establish too much all at once, as well as it starting off with you already having a personal connection of some sort with the main cast. Still, each set piece here is strong enough on its own –

1. Eivor & co. join to negotiate peace with King Rhodri. She can offer 600 silver to whomever she chooses to try and quell the peace talks. Each option is mired in obscurity, has obvious pros and cons, and plenty of uncertainty. It felt impactful, difficult and nuanced.
2. After peace talks go sour with Ivarr’s outburst, Eivor, Ivarr and Ceowulf sack a village under Rhodri’s control. It’s brutal and takes a long time to burn (on purpose!). You then fight a huge party of Rhodri’s men. The whole scene feels vile, over the top and harsh (on purpose!).
3. The twist is that Ivarr kills Ceowulf in cold blood to earn himself the opportunity to get his own revenge on Rhodri — only revealed after you sack Rhodri’s fort (after reaching peace with him). A brutal blood eagle from Ivarr and the game’s best boss fight ensue.

It’s close between the top 3, but this is the best arc in the game, for me.
For once, the game forces you to face the trail of bloodshed and destruction your ‘pacifying’ of England has left in your wake. Additionally, the ambiguous decision-making process in negotiating peace, the brutal village burning sequence, the tangled web of Ivarr’s relationships and motivations, the twists of the peaceful alliance and Rhodri’s fate, and finally, the Ivarr boss fight are just too good all in tandem to not take first place.
--
I’m conflicted looking back on these.
There’s many that feel even more empty than I remember them being now that I draft them as text. However, a surprising number of highly-rated arcs aren’t actually part of the main quest.
Ultimately, I’m left bewildered at the scale and scope of the epic that this game took me on. I was so fatigued by the end of it, but in hindsight so happy I completed it.

Hi everyone! I'm currently looking for any feedback on the first chapter of my short novel, which has just reached the second draft stage. It's about the main character being forced into eliminating the heads of an island conquered by vampires. The title is referencing a blood moon which remains present only on the island, always draping it in darkness and making it perfect for its inhabitants. I see it as a gothic Suicide Squad with less characters.
Thanks!
The chateau remarked itself as the jewel of the street.
The building rose above its accompanying homes, two stories larger than its nearest neighbours. A grand display of the original owner’s wealth, it now belonged to the vampires, like the rest of Prache. Looking down the street, Hitchforth recognised it from afar, his target for tonight’s mission. He watched stylish vampires enter through the front gate, greeted by ushers at the entrance, checking their invitations. Checking the inner pocket of his greatcoat, he searched for the invitation given to him, satisfied it was there. Hitchforth looked to his left and saw the rookie’s for tonight’s mission checking for his invitation. The rookie searched throughout his body, appearing to have lost the card, but found it before Hitchforth could scold him, offering it to his Educator.
The rookies they gave him rarely survived his missions. Sometimes he thought they were sent as a punishment, a test to see if they could survive. In his old age he had seen countless rookies, forgetting countless names and faces. This one beside him seemed nervous, adjusting his collar, wiping the sweat from his brow, avoiding eye contact with Hitchforth. This one might as well have been sentenced to an execution. What was his name? Anton? Arthur? It wouldn’t matter in the end, but the rookie’s nervousness could jeopardise the mission entirely.
“Tell me,” he said, seriousness in his tone. “Are you afraid of me or the vampires?”
The rookie fidgeted with his fingers before responding, wiping his brow from the new sweat that dripped. “B-b-both, sir.”
“Breathe. Fill your lungs and empty them. Like this.” Hitchforth demonstrated for the rookie, taking extra care to show the slow speed of the action.
The rookie did as instructed, inhaling and exhaling deeply.
“It helps?” Hitchforth asked.
“Yes sir,” the words spoken with more clarity and calmness.
“Good, let’s go into the lion’s den then.”

They approached the front entrance, lining up to be ushered in. Carmilla’s festivity had attracted the richest of Prache’s vampires, adorned in foreign jewels and extravagant clothing. The rookie almost slipped on an exceptionally long dress, caught by the cuff by Hitchforth. Looking behind him, he saw the fury in their red eyes, that Humanity’s Hope had been invited. Reaching the usher, Hitchforth handed his and the rookie’s invitations, inspecting the vampire’s face. The slightest twinge of shock showed on his face, but was quickly concealed with a stern, professional demeanour. He waved them both in, shooting a questioning glance as they passed by.
The building appeared larger inside than it was outside, if possible. The minimal red torches fitted on sconces and the amount of vampires fitted into the building helped accentuate its size. A sea of suits and dresses spread throughout its floor, different colours and materials shining in the ambient light. Imported marble made up the floor, dark and white tiles patterned intricately. Large windows draped by exotic curtains furnished the walls throughout the building, paintings spread in between the spaces. Hitchforth could just make out the paintings as portraits, the closest to him being a group of five vampires.
What surprised Hitchforth the most was the sounds that filled his ears. Music played by a orchestra filled the building with the sounds of strings, woodwinds, percussion and brass sections. Pushing past the crowd that had congregated near the front entrance, Hitchforth saw dancing. Vampires dancing in line with their partners to the music, alternating between partners, spinning with arms outstretched.
Behind the dance floor a grand staircase rose from the floor, providing access to the two other stories of the building. It was there that Hitchforth saw the target for tonight’s mission come down the stairs, stopping high enough to be seen, but low enough to be heard. Immediately the orchestra ceased its playing, the dancers also ceasing their dancing. The congregation around the entrance strode to the dance floor, taking Hitchforth and the rookie with them, waiting for her words.
She was tall and deathly beautiful, more civilised and confident than the others. She wore a dark crimson dress, accenting her red eyes and slender face. Her moonlight coloured hair draped straight down past her shoulders, shining despite the lack of light. Her red lips parted into a savage smile, displaying the pointed canines she shared with every member of her race. Hitchforth noticed she looked directly at him, her eyes sizing him as a lion would to its prey. Carmilla Sanguine had arrived.
She spoke to the guests, keeping her eyes on Hitchforth. “Welcome all, to the festivities of tonight. I hold today’s ball as a celebration of our independence as a species, our freedom from humanity.” The guests cheered at the words, delighted at the words. “And please give our warm Prache hospitality to our sanctioned guests of Humanity’s Hope, who have joined us.”
The vampires did not cheer at those words, hushing and hissing silently as they turned to see Hitchforth and the rookie. It was easy to find them, both wearing their issued dark green greatcoats. Hitchforth had refused formal attire for the event for himself and his rookie, knowing they would stand out regardless.
“Enjoy your time tonight and as always, long live our king.”
“Long live our king,” the crowd shouted out in unison, mirroring Carmilla’s words.
Carmilla stepped down the stairs, her guests returning to conversation and dancing. She mingled with her guests, leaving Hitchforth and the rookie alone.
“Sir, what now?” the rookie asked.
“She will come to us, she can’t help herself,” Hitchforth said whilst looking over her watching her conversations. From a distance he could still see the power she held, the fear in the faces of the vampires she held conversations with. From what he had been told, the heads of Prache kept to themselves mostly, only communicating when necessary. The mission would not be hindered by reinforcements, or so he had been told.
Carmilla made her way over to where Hitchforth and the rookie stood, flanked by two bodyguards in suits. She looked over the rookie, smiling and looking into his eyes. Hitchforth saw the rookie smile back, his nervousness gone. Already her mind games had begun.
“Hello, Carmilla,” he said, breaking her eye contact with the rookie.
“Greetings, Educator Hitchforth. And who might this be here?”
“My rookie. You know my name?” Carmilla had come closer to the rookie, stroking his cheek with her hand as Hitchforth spoke. Hitchforth saw the sharp nails on her hand, softly grazing the rookie’s skin.
“Isn’t fresh blood the best? We don’t get a lot of humans here, I’m sure you know.” Carmilla moved her hand away, turning and answering the Educator. “Of course, who doesn’t know the only Lycan Educator in Humanity’s Hope? I’m sure everyone here has smelt it already.”
“Fair enough. Can we talk in a more…,” Hitchforth looked around, noticing most of the guests were paying attention to their conversation. “Private place?”
“Of course, Educator. Allow me to lead the way,” she said, taking hold of the rookie’s hand and walking ahead. Hitchforth stared at him from behind to let go yet he continued, unable to escape her trance. Playing along, he followed Carmilla up the stairs, leaving behind the vampires to dance and socialise below.

Carmilla lead Hitchforth and the rookie up the stairs to the second floor, passing through multiple hallways and doors to reach their destination. The building’s halls and rooms seemed to continue endlessly, doors leading to more doors and longer hallways. They walked down a long staircase, perhaps made for the servants of the building. They walked through a large hallway containing Carmilla’s thralls, lined up against the wall, saluting as she passed. Eventually they reached a cold room with a large table in the centre with a fireplace emitting red flames. Red ash was a new invention created since the vampires had conquered Prache, a harmless light source for their needs. They had invested heavily into the island as their home and Hitchforth knew they would not give it up easily. Looking above the mantle place, Hitchforth noticed the familiar painting from the ballroom.
All the five vampires matched the descriptions he was told, to the point he could recognise them all. At the forefront sat Harrow Sanguine, the self-appointed king of Prache. He looked younger than the rest of his family, his ashen skin painted flawlessly. His fierce eyes stared back into Hitchforth, instilling fear from even his heart. To his right stood his wife, Rose Sanguine, who bore a strong resemblance to Carmilla, matching hair and all. To the king’s left stood Varney Sanguine, wearing his familiar grey suit and matching brown flat cap. Standing next to Varney was Father Nostra, the religious leader of Prache, wearing his black cassock. Finally, standing next to her mother was Carmilla Sanguine, identical to her real life presence.
“Where are we?” Hitchforth asked.
“A meeting room under the chateau. We won’t be disturbed here.”
“And your guests? They won’t be afraid you’ve gone missing?”
Carmilla laughed. “Those fools will be too blood drunk in the morning to remember their past few days. Our meeting will be fine.” She ordered her guards out of the room, instructing them to stay outside, just in case. “The guards will be waiting outside,” she said, warning in her tone.
“What do you want?”
“When my father sanctioned a member of Humanity’s Hope to visit the island, I was surprised they chose you.”
Hitchforth shrugged. “I’m expendable.”
“Yes, they do see you in that way, and that may be so. But I see more.”
Hitchforth furrowed his eyebrows. “Like what?”
“I see opportunity. I see power. I see a new path.”
“Care to explain?”
“You are the only Educator that is not human. On Prache we can give you freedom, like we have achieved.”
Hitchforth thought over what Carmilla said, processing her words. She had to have been desperate to separate him from any prying eyes, eager to keep her plans secret. The only choice was to continue.
“I see. They say a hand that lends help is matched by a hand that waits repayment. What is the repayment you seek from me?”
Carmilla smiled more than she had before, looking more unnatural than she ever had before. Her smile outstretched to the corners of her face and Hitchforth thought he saw her eyes darken lustfully. Not lust for blood, but lust for power. “The crown. With my connections and Humanity’s Hope, we can topple my father’s regime. He is outdated, out of touch with the population’s desires and needs. I can give it to them.”
Hitchforth scoffed at the words. “And you believe Humanity’s Hope is willing to partner with a vampire?”
“They partnered with you didn’t they? I see no difference.”
“I have no partnership. Something much worse.”
“It doesn’t matter. My father is eager to enact revenge for the prosecution vampires have felt for millennia. I am willing to move on.”
Hitchforth looked to the rookie, who had remained silent throughout the conversation. He sweated through his coat, leaving visible stains. The trance Carmilla had put him through had broken, putting her attention to Hitchforth. He could feel the slight strings pulling him in the direction she wanted, appealing to his emotions and desires. He considered over her terms, it made sense to accept the deal. Why would he protect his captors? His mind travelled elsewhere, to a farmhouse and her tending to her flower garden. He thought of her smile, and the little one that accompanied her.
“Do we have a deal? You have no choice either way, Educator,” Carmilla said, snapping Hitchforth back to reality.
He looked to his rookie, signalling under the table to warn him. Hitchforth saw him nod subtly, trying not to give away the motion.
“No,” Hitchforth said, raising the table above his head, smashing it into Carmilla’s body, sending her flying.

One. Two. Three. Four.
All four nails were removed and the crowbar rattled onto the coffin's wooden lid. Butch and Tony leapt with false hope upon seeing that the 5th time was the charm. Butch crouched down. He tossed the coffin's contents out behind him, many small bags he believed to be filled with coin or some valuables. Tony caught each bag, opening them up to examine what's inside.
"Ey, Butch, there's uh nuthin in these?"
"Waddya mean there's nuthin in em?"
"I mean I checked em all and they're just filled with junk."
"Well check harder." Butch ordered his cohort as he rummaged through the corpse's clothing. Butch would pause briefly upon taking notice of a few characteristics of the coffin's resident. It was a boy of young age who look no older than 15, maybe even 13, from Butch's judgement.
He bore saturated coarse brown hair and the fairest of skin. Butch tugged loose an amulet before wrapping its chain around his hand and pocketing it. Most notable to Butch was the flush of red that painted the boy's cheeks.
"I checked harder Butch, nuthin, just junk."
"Yeah ... yeah, say uh, Tony come ere." The crouching Butch waved his partner over. Tony tossed the final empty sack to the ground and sauntered to Butch's side.
"What's up Butch?"
"Say uh, ya notice sumthin a little 'off' bout dis one?"
"Yeah, it was a waste of diggin, got nuthin but junk."
"Yeah yeah, but uh don't dis fella look a little 'fresh' to ya? Of the 'just buried' variety?" Butch led.
Tony placed his gloved hand to his chin. "Say yeah, I think ya might be right. ... That explains it, the chap was already robbed by whoever smoked em! Lemme get ahold of what eva wise guy made us go through all this diggin fa nuthin."
"I don't think that's it, Tony. Pretty sure if ya smoke someone, you don't go through the trouble of puttin em in a coffin and nailin it shut." Butch inquired.
"Well, so we're a detective now, are we? Well Mr. dead body exput, what do you think happened?"
"I dunno Tony, but I uh ... I think we should call it a night."
"Eh." Tony shrugged. "Not against the idea. Gettin pretty early anyways, best not to test our luck."
The two grave robbers turned to collect their belongings and whatever of the 'junk' on the ground they thought they could make a few easy bucks off of. Their skill set was quite variable. They weren't just grave robbers, but living robbers and conmen too. They didn't doubt they could sucker someone into to buying one the useless pieces of homemade mumbo jumbo they'd looted from the coffin.
Fingers ratted against the wood of the coffin as a hand gripped its side. Butch & Tony whom had their back turns stiffened up right.
"Say uh, Butch, you ... you wouldn't happen to be takin any ventriloquist lessons by chance wouldja?"
"No, Tony. I heard it to."
"What are ya thinking? Zombie?"
"No, no, too fresh. Vampire maybe?" Nodded Butch while biting the dry skin on his lips.
"E̵h̷. Y̷o̵u̶'r̸e̴ n̵o̶t̴ t̵o̷o̸ f̶a̴r̵ o̵f̵f̷ r̵e̶a̸l̸l̵y̶." Sounded the many voices of the boy, from behind. "I̶ t̶h̵i̷n̸k̸ t̵h̵e̸ t̸e̸r̷m̷ i̶s̴ 'w̵i̶t̷c̸h̸'? N̷o̸ w̸a̶i̶t̷, 'w̶a̴r̴l̵o̸c̵k̵' I̸ t̸h̷i̶n̸k̴. P̴r̵e̸t̶t̵y̴ s̷u̴r̶e t̶h̸a̸t̶'s̴ w̴h̶a̶t̷ t̵h̴e̷y̴ c̸a̸l̵l̷e̵d̸ m̷e̴ b̵e̵f̴o̶r̶e̸ t̷h̸e̷y̵ p̴u̴t̵ m̵e̵ i̵n̷ t̸h̴e̶r̶e̷. H̶e̴y̵ u̷h̴, m̴i̷n̸d̶ d̸r̸o̴p̴p̶i̸n̷g̶ t̶h̶a̶t̴ a̸m̴u̸l̵e̶t̶ y̸o̶u̷ s̷w̴i̶p̴e̷d̷ e̴a̴r̶l̶i̵e̴r̵?"
Butch reached a shaking hand into his trench coat and gripped the amulet before stiffly extending his arm to the side and releasing his clutch to drop it. Both men saw the amulet pause mid-air and shoot backwards.
"T̶h̸a̷n̶k̷s̵ r̸e̵a̴l̵l̸y̸." The boy thanked. Both men felt a hand pat them on the back. "W̶o̴u̶l̶d̸ h̷a̸v̶e̸ b̷e̵e̵n̴ a̷w̸k̶w̵a̷r̵d̴ f̵o̴r̸ ̸y̷o̶u̴ t̵o̷ r̶e̷f̴u̸s̵e̵ a̷n̷d̶ t̷h̷e̶n h̷a̶v̷e̵ ̸m̶y̸ l̵i̶b̴e̵r̸a̸t̴o̷r̵s̷ t̴a̵k̶e̵ ̸m̴y̴ ̸s̶p̴o̴t̶ i̸n̶ t̵h̷a̶t̵ c̷o̵f̷f̴i̵n̷. T̸w̸o̵ p̶e̵o̷p̴l̷e̵ w̶o̶u̵l̸d̴ m̵a̵k̶e̴ i̶t̴ k̵i̶n̴d̷a̷ c̷r̴a̵m̸p̴e̴d̵, d̶o̵n̷'t̸ y̷o̷u̶ t̷h̵i̷n̶k̷?"
"H̶e̴y̴ y̷o̴u̷ l̴o̶o̷k̸ l̵i̴k̷e̷ y̴o̴u̶ h̸a̵v̸e̸ g̷o̸o̴d̷ t̷a̸s̵t̸e̴? C̵o̶u̷l̷d̴ y̴o̸u̶ p̴o̷i̸n̸t̵ t̷o̶ t̸h̶e̶ n̴e̷a̶r̴e̷s̵t̴ i̵n̸n̶? T̴a̵v̵e̷r̴n̵? W̷h̵a̷t d̵o̶ y̸o̸u̴ c̴a̸l̴l̷ i̶t̸ n̷o̶w̸?"
Tony raised a shaking finger and pointed in the direction of the closest pub. "P-pub." Tony informed.
"T̵h̷a̶-" The boy broke into a few coughs. "Woah was my throat dry! 'Pub' ... 'Puuuub' funny word. Thanks! I never got the chance to try a drink before they put me underground, father always said I was too young. 🎼B̴u̶t̸ f̵a̴t̵h̴e̴r̸'s̷ n̶o̴t̶ a̴r̸o̷o̸o̷u̶n̷d!🎶 See ya!"
The boy ran between the men skipping & cheering at his new found freedom. He even performed a leap (with remarkable hang time). Though he did pause before getting too far away from the men. The boy turned with an innocent finger on his cheek.
"Oh yeah, friends, you should probably s̸k̶i̵p̶ t̸o̸w̵n̴." He forewarned. "You p̴r̶o̴o̸o̴b̴a̷b̵l̴y̴ won't want to be a̶n̶y̸w̷h̶e̵r̴e̴ near here tomorrow night."
The boy delivered a beaming close-eyed smile before resuming his excited race to try his first drink.
"Hey uh, Tony, my aunts makin dinner in the next town ova, you uh ... wanna come?"
"Yeah Butch, let's get outta here!"
And with that, the two men skedaddled.
^{{origin post was deleted by user}}

This story was inspired by the following prompt: https://www.reddit.com/humansarespaceorcs/comments/1cqvbwk/humans_are_known_for_building_veryvery_large/
General Kim was awakened from a sound slumber by klaxons. Years of military training kicked in and he was out of bed in record time. Checking the data pad briefly while pulling on his uniform he saw something terrifying.
“Attack in progress. Launch in 10:34.”
An attack? Who? Where? How? What kind? General Kim was soon out the door to his quarters. He was at his battle bridge before the launch countdown had reached 10:00. Similar scenes were playing out throughout the ship, as generals checked in with their battle bridge statuses.
In the ship’s primary bridge, two kilometers from General Kim, Admiral Sol looked at her command display with satisfaction. 100% readiness in less than two minutes. She was pleased. She addressed the 10,000 soul the crew over the PA system. “An allied colony is under attack by enemies unknown. Wormhole travel will take approximately twenty minutes and thirty-four seconds. Prepare for battle.”
General Kim scrolled through the scant field assessment data. There wasn’t much. A large multi-species colony was being bombarded from orbit. No signs of enemy ground forces. The primary wormhole comms array was out, but an old Subspace system was still functional after 120 years of dormancy. “And THAT,” said General Kim, “is what preventative maintenance is for.”
“General, sir?”
“Sorry. Just thinking out loud. Their W23 system is down but they’re still in touch using an SB-Class 3.”
“I think I’ve seen one of those in a museum!”
“Our grandparents saw them in museums. You make do on the rim.”
Launch and wormhole transit went off with clockwork precision. Soon, the ship exited its artificial wormhole. It was immediately bombarded by the unknown hostiles. Explosions of varying kinds went off on the ship’s hull, ripping gashes in her armor.
“Damage report?” Admiral Sol asked.
“Ablative armor at 97%. No other damage reports.”
“Excellent. Inform me when the preliminary weapons analysis is in.”
Meanwhile, the Admiral's counterpart in the invading fleet, Imperial Agent Skrald, was still screaming, “What is that THING?”
“I’ve seen moons smaller than that ship,” said one of his lieutenants.
“We have to have a record of it. You can’t build something that big in complete secrecy!”
“Imperial Agent Skrald, I think it’s the, “Blade of Scoth.”
“That ship’s an old myth! It can’t possibly-“
“We've carved a notch!”
“Send the biggest we’ve got,” the Skrald replied.
A “notch” was a divot in the ship’s hull of the right shape to prevent weapons files from glancing off the armor.
“We’re being hailed, sir!”
“Tell them we don’t talk to burnt food and end the transmission,” the Admiral replied.
Imperial Agent Skrald watched with glee as the missile made contact with the notch and detonated.
On her ship, Admiral Sol asked for another damage report.
“Lower-port ablative armor section 374 at 40%, pinata layer is fully exposed.
“Can it take another direct hit?”
“It was only a gigaton blast. One more should make a perfect crack.”
“Excellent. Order the candy away from the blast point just to be safe.”
“Already done ma'am.”
“Make a note to find out who gave that order so I can commend them on their quick-thinking.”
“Yes Admiral.”
While the invading fleet pivoted their attention to the new ship, a second Terran vessel, the “Rule of Two Rogers” exited its artificial wormhole on the far side of the planet. A swarm of smaller craft flowed from the ship into the atmosphere below.
Imperial Agent Skrald, ignorant of the “Rule of Two Rogers,” was shouting with excitement. “Hit it again! Fire another!” The second missile flew through space, connecting with the underlayer exposed by the last missile. At first, it looked like the ship was spewing out debris, but the debris started flying in formations and shooting at his ships.
On the human ship, the Admiral smiled with satisfaction as she heard the report, “Piñata 86 has been breached. The candy is flowing. I repeat, the candy is flowing.”
“All stations, fire at will,” she replied.
The eyes of Imperial Agent Skrald opened wide as the surface of the massive ship lit up with a multicolored array of missiles, lasers, torpedos, and something that seemed to fire AFTER destroying one of his ships.
“It’s a rainbow of death,” he said, shocked into immobility by the way his fleet was being erased. He came back to his senses when his ship was rocked by debris impact from his erstwhile fleet.
“It’s too big to land!” He yelled. “All ships to the surface! I repeat, all ships retreat to the surface!”
The debris tore off one of his ship’s nacelles. “Did we need that to land?” He yelled.
“Only to get home sir,” an officer replied.
“Good.”
Admiral Sol watched the battle with satisfaction. This was the Blade of Scoth’s first battle in over 100 years. As a descendant of the famous Ambasador Sol, she took her guardianship of the BoS very seriously. A report came up on her screen. The hostiles had been identified. It was one of the Naga Imperium factions, or they were at least using the faction’s ships, weapons and known tactics. “Bastards,” she muttered.
“Admiral?” Lieutenant Cutter said.
“Analysis says it’s the ‘Naga Imperium of the Bone.’ The colony's 20% Naga. They’re slaughtering their own. Have we established direct contact with the colony yet?”
“Not yet Admiral. They don’t seem to have any short-range communications working. We’re still limited to what’s coming over their old subspace system.”
On the planet below, Sally McCool, a Naga hatched and raised in the colony, like her parents and grandparents before her, looked to the night sky. The missiles had come down, glowing brightly as the stars before they impacted. Now, the bright glowing objects had become larger, but many were breaking up and vanishing into nothing. Were these larger bombs, or was the enemy tumbling out of space?
She watched with growing horror as one approached the ground near the south okra field. She took a deep breath, and braced herself to be vaporized by whatever was about to land. Unable to watch, she curled into a ball on the ground, hoping death would be quick. She expected a nuclear flash, obliteration before hearing the blast. Instead, she heard a massive crash, crumpling metal and exploding components, and a long grinding sound as something huge cut into the soil. A rain of stones and soil covered her.
Sally looked up, and took several seconds to process what she was seeing. It hadn’t been a bomb. It had been a ship, and it had just crashed into one of their fields, carving a huge channel as it ground to a halt. A cloud of smoke was rising. Suddenly, a disk-shaped ship shot through the cloud of smoke. She recognized it from her history classes and old war movies. A flying saucer, painted with concentric circles of red, white, and blue. It was a Steve. A Steve class fighter. They were special. Why were they special?
Another saucer flew overhead. This one was red and yellow.
Sally remembered why the Steve battle saucers were special. They were exclusive to a ship called “The Rule of two Rogers.” The Steves were for battle, and this red and gold ship, as it landed she remembered, “It’s a Fred!” She yelled. She waved her arms, calling out to the ship. “We have injured! We have injured!” The side of the saucer opened up, and a multi-species crew of medics poured out.
While medics swarmed the colony providing aid, the best day of Skrald’s life had turned into the worst in a matter of minutes. He looked around his battered bridge. Even the emergency lighting could only manage flickering glimpses of the sparking wreckage around him. The only functional display was informing him the sewage system had ruptured and was pouring into what remained of the ventilation system.
“Is anyone else alive?”
“I TOLD you it was the Blade of Scoth you idiot!”
Skrald straightened his posture as much as the sharp pains in his abdomen would allow. “How DARE you speak to a member of the Imperium that way! I’ll eat you myself for that!”
“Good luck with that. I’m surrendering to the colony.”
“THEY’LL EAT YOUR FLESH AND MAKE SHOES FROM YOUR HIDE!”
“How’s that any better than you eating me?”
Outraged at the insolence, Skrald lunged in the direction of the taunting underling, smashing his snout against a hunk of metal he hadn’t noticed in the dim, flickering light.
Hours later, sunrise came to the battered colony. Most of the fires in the colony proper had been put out, but some of the Naga wreckage was still burning bright. Emergency contamination domes had been put up over the upwind wrecks, to contain as much of the toxic smoke as possible.
General Kim was on the ground, commanding the cleanup crews from both ships. He’d taken a brief break from those responsibilities to speak to one of the captured Naga.
“The guy in the fanciest duds tried to eat you when we took you into custody. Why?”
“I used to be a pilot,” she said. “Until that moron weaseled himself into enough power to do THIS!” She opened up her arms, as if to gesture at everything around her. “The only reason I’m even here is because I objected to this madness. That royal waste of scales wanted to personally mock me when he won. He even put that in writing on the paperwork for my ‘Away Without Leave’ warrant.”
“Weren’t you on his bridge?”
“Yes. You look confused, or at least that’s what my translator is telling me about your expression.”
“I don’t have a lot of combat experience. Nobody does these days, but hand-picking someone for your bridge crew because they have no confidence in you sounds like a bad idea to me.”
“This whole mission was nothing but bad ideas.”
“Please, tell me more.”
Meanwhile, in the darkness of space, a third ship of Capybara / Human design moved silent and unseen. Complex sensor arrays had been tracing the path the invaders had taken, seeking their origin. Data flowed in on interstellar communications problems, often evidence of ships passing though communications tunnels. The Starship Peggy Carter and her crew were on the trail, and the ship had a reputation to uphold. Latin mottos had fallen out of favor decades before she was built, so her motto was written in English.
“Those we fail to defend, we will avenge.”

Hi. I own the moondrop aria iems since like a year. The plugs dat came with it All didnt fit so i ordered New ones (cant remember which one was some dumb cheap Set). I tried the biggest of them and for a while They seemed ok. Then the right Airbuways started to push itself out of my ear. Was ok for me in the beginning but after a while it also startet with the other one. I let my ear clean by the Doktor, i cleaned the plugs. Still same problem. So i red a lot of stuff on the Internet about this topic. Lot of people had the same Problem and everybody has different earplug recommendations. Right now i've spend over 100 Euro for plugs while only having 100 Euro iems. I bought alot of different plugs, mostly high quality. The only one that worked for a specific time were the azla sedna earfit xelastec. But they lost their Form over a few weeks so They didnt really fit anymore.
TLDR: I want to use my iems but dont want to waste more money for plugs that dont fit. Should i just bite in the sour Apple and get some specially for me made plugs for 97 euro?
Thanks already. This stuff drives me crazy
Edit : i still have the biggest of the sedna earfit xelastec ( the 14 mm widenes radius ones). I cleaned them and tryed them again and the didnt even "close up" like They totally didnt fill my ear. So theoretically that should mean i need bigger ear plugs? Sorry for the long Text but im really confused and dont wanna spend Tons of cash for outdoor overears

So I saw the devs asked for ideas for decoration items.
Which must be pretty hard to come up with new stuff since Ft1 had so many already.
So here in this (real life) video is some awesome stuff in my opinion, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vnF5Anlf8Ss
Like a fish feeder (even just cosmetic) with some effect maybe in the water (if there is fish)
Also Yurts and Container homes would be great as many people do now in Portugal and other places.
Some vegetation as decorative items? Like scrubs and even weed-type like fields, water plants, giant 4x4 old ancient trees (like olive, https://www.surinenglish.com/lifestyle/food-drink/malagas-extra-virgin-20220218092148-ntvo.html ) and GIGANTIC palm trees - maybe even 2x2 and 3x3 trees , just like more huge old wood logs and rotten tree stumps just for decoration
Chicken tractors (used to move chicken around on grass fields (great for decoration))
Some stuff from organic/regenerative farming like different soil types with mulch on it (woodchips, straw, could even be a gameplay element where players could put a new item they pick up from a compost bin over crops?).
Signs maybe even with some text elements like "Please plant " here where * is the crop icon you choose (maybe there is other text elements that would be useful like "Welcome to *your farm name), and huge 6-9 tile gates that have players farm name on them?
Worm bin (used in farming), compost, electricity poles (just for decoration), wind-farm/solar decoration, items for like a "tree-school" (like little pots with different crops/flowers/tiny plants and stacks of pots both vertically and horizontally).
Bonsai trees.
Also compost again, like giant stacks of mud/compost (maybe with flies over it and a buzzing sound)/woodchip piles just for decoration purposes
Trashcans
Wheelbarrows (always used on a farm). I think these could have so many uses even acting as a planter, which would look so cool with the player being able to put different crops in it just as with raised beds/garden containers/old truck wheels)
Also different types/variations of sprinklers maybe, like I love these giant grass fields where a sprinkler just shoots water all around, maybe this would be possible and look great on our farms even just as decoration? Plus eventually a watering effect
(even)Tall(er) grass, Wild Flower field soil type (possibly with little bonus effect for bees) or just in general different looks to the default plot (examples https://www.bostonseeds.com/products/wildflowers-seed/wildflower-seed-mixtures-20/ or just do google image search for bee field seeds)
Insect hotels https://www.urbanrevolution.com.au/products/small-insect-hotels
Raised garden beds (planters) out of wood, metal, recycled container, old truck wheels...
Ideas for trees: Cork Oak (where is an animation of harvesting the bark from the tree and the color of the wood changes)
Pomegranate bushes and trees (they can be grown in both ways) and theres dark purple, yellow, red pomegranate in general i think more bushes and berry hedges would be great as they are more convienent to farm than large trees (and you have brought a lot already in the first EA which is awesome!!). Generally i think it would be great if they often looked more unique like the Prickly Pear Cactus over just a round "bush").
Generally more unique looking fruit trees would be great (I understand its probably a lot more work)
Actually for tree ideas you might want to look at this small youtuber who goes around the world identifying rare fruit trees https://www.youtube.com/@allthefruit there is some places in the world where people just are super creative and have such an amazing variety.
Some worker tools, rubber boots on the ground (used a lot in some countries as costa rica), small 1 tile poly tunnels that connect (good for decoration next to fields), watering cans, irrigation lines, rainwater collectors (like barrels with water in them, IBC containers), garden hoes (maybe as fence type?)
(Also just having an idea for a feature maybe some day, where you could create a guided tractor tour if people click it, the tractor will keep following a certain path around the farm (kinda like the train of course, but maybe at the same time watering/plowing fields just by people "activating it" so following a line maybe set up with a tile seperatofence type of item?)
Rollercoaster instead of train going all over your farm (haha kinda meant as a joke but would surely be fun), same as some dinosaurs, elephants and other more "exotic" animals.
Boxes/crates of all the different/some mixed crops/fruit. Wheelbarrows and boxes with produce/plants/fruit/crops in them so you can make your farm look more like a production site.
Starlink satellite, different camper vans, more bonfires
Maybe (some day?) an "ancient tractor", or even like a cow/horse/donkey carriage acting like a tractor. This could be fun!
Different SMALL one tile water fountains (used often in backyard gardening), different Water Pumps.
More varieties of bird feeders. Maybe a tree that has a squirrel on it.
Some more varied wooden benches, chairs, tables as often used in garden areas around the world. Maybe with some garden pots on them.
Maybe some pools and more deluxe items like parasols, sunbeds/deckchairs, sunchairs, so people can decorate a special garden at the player house as in a lounge area (as the farmhands do all the "work" lol)
Also maybe for more posh gardens some white gravel type of soil with some green scrubs in them.
Shovels and other tools sticking in the ground/soil (or on piles as is already in the game with the beautiful hay fork).
Hope this helps this is what I could come up with an hour or so and would love to see tho I realize not all is possible to do or really necessary! And I am happy even with the EA just like its now lol.
Hope we see some other good ideas posted here now! I realized its pretty hard to come up with this stuff!

Hi friends, I'm back with thoughts on my new Nui Cobalt Critters! For my reviews of 24 past Critters (including all of the Rabbits and Squirrels), see my recent post HERE. As I wrote before, this collection isn't entirely sweet cuddly woodland creatures, but it does have a lot of those, including three of my all-time favorite Nui Cobalts: Little Brown Rabbit, Little White Rabbit, and Lilac Rabbit (so of course I had to try this year's new Rabbit!) Here are my thoughts on five of this year's new releases, with an unexpected favorite...
Ordering specs: Nui Cobalt's website is easy to navigate, shipping is very affordable at $3.45, items come very securely packed, and customer service is always spectacular. I don't think I've ever placed an order that took more than 2-3 business days to ship (and recently it has usually been literally the very next day). Samples are generous - 1.15 mls at least - in vials with wand caps. Each order comes with one free sample, chosen by them (there’s no box to insert requests).
Nui Cobalt's typical annual schedule of releases: (I [and especially Nui Cobalt] make no promises, of course, that these collections will recur; this is just in my experience)

• Late January - Valentines (Philias, Crushes, and Les Désirs Dangereux)
• Late February - Bees, Favorite Things (formerly also Celtic Treasures)
• Late March - April Fools
• Late April - Critters
• Late May - Fae Folk
• Late June - Big Island, Dances
• Late July - Witches' Utility Blends
• Late August - Autumn 1
• Late September - Autumn 2
• Late October - Whole Being, Astrology (formerly also Ascended Masters, Good & Evil)
• Late November - Yule/Nutcracker
• Late December - Gamers & Geeks

These perfumes were provided as press samples by Nui Cobalt in exchange for an honest review.
​
Golden Retriever [Sunflower, amber resin, budding dogwood, fenugreek, and fresh-baked bread] Toast! A warm, ambery, spiced scent featuring toast made from a slightly sweetened bread. It's remarkable how sunny and summery this is - yet it's unmistakeably toast, and I keep getting distracted by this scent as I do other things, absentmindedly wondering where the breakfast is. If you like Poesie Amaterasu [Golden sandalwood incense, rice milk, bright cardamom, amber, dry wheat, and sunflowers], you'd love this; it has that same amiable warmth (though, of course, without the cardamom). As it starts to dry, the botanicals (the dogwood and fenugreek) come out more strongly (still with spiced ambery toast as a strong base note).
Red Admiral Butterfly [Blood orange, nasturtium flower, coriander, subtle blackwood, wild strawberry, and fresh garden basil] - This strawberry-blood orange combination is fabulous - the blood orange actually doesn't stick out much by itself, but it makes the strawberry note super juicy and takes away the candied artificiality of most strawberry notes in perfume. LOVE. I'm not super into this strong basil note, though. I love fruity-florals, but not so much fruity-herbals, and this is very much "juicy strawberry + basil and other dried herbs from a witch's cottage" (the "other dusty herbs" bit must be from the coriander note?). If they ever do that strawberry-blood orange combo again, I'll be all over it, it's quite stunning!
Black Sheep [Clean lamb's wool accord, myrrh resin, black seed, ambrette, and barely a whisper of oudh] - This is dusty twilight in a bottle. It's peaceful evening; it's cozy winter snuggles; it's the exhale when you can finally rest. It's undeniably dark, but soft and gentle, and I'd even describe it as gauzy. There is indeed but a whisper of myrrh and oud, just enough to make it dusty and dark, with the softest (and totally non-sheepy) cashmere and clean, slightly powdery ambrette. It doesn't have great longevity, lasting just under half a day on me, but holy wow is it amazing. I didn't know what to expect with this one - just looking at the notes, it's easy to think it could be too smoky or harsh - but it's beautiful.
Black Swan [Smooth tobacco, wild violet, humid black orchid, Peru balsam, clove bud, and a touch of star anise] - This feels like the bolder cousin of Black Sheep - it shares the same kind of dark, dusky beauty, but is significantly stronger, bolder, and less cuddly. The violets and anise (licorice) are strongest, with a really fruity purple plum/fig note too that's not at all listed but definitely arrives on my skin, over a base of the smoothest tobacco. Husband loves this tobacco. "Bring me that bottle," he declared upon sniffing my wrist, "I want to see what it does on my skin." And woah, it's SO different on him - the balsam is SO much stronger, making this a woody tobacco with a gently floral background. Are any of us surprised that he snaffled it?
Harlequin Rabbit [Nutmeg and tonka bean nuzzle up against toasted marshmallow, auburn cashmere, white pepper, black tea, and a trace of carrot seed] - Where Little Brown Rabbit is the snuggly evening one, Little White Rabbit is the clean elegant one, and Lilac Rabbit the soft pretty one, Harlequin Rabbit feels to me like the rainy-day one. I love this concept of the harlequin rabbit - that's a real rabbit coloring, by the way, and SUPER pretty, look it up! - created here by the Rabbit base plus black and white notes. This scent features a strong marshmallow note, the pretty, clean soapiness of Little White Rabbit, and malty notes not yet recognizable as black tea. It's cheeky, to be sure, but it also feels young, like it needs time to grow into itself. Nui Cobalt has a gorgeous black tea note, but it's surprisingly (and disappointingly) not that strong in this scent. Right now, Harlequin Rabbit feels like tea-dusted marshmallows (plus that soapy cottonflower note) rather than the more autumnal "rich black tea with marshmallow sweetness and a peppery bite" that I'm hoping it will develop into. I think it'll get there with a little aging, and indeed, the black tea and white pepper have already become stronger just over the course of my multiple wears of this, one a few days after its arrival and the other just yesterday (a week and a half later). Meanwhile, Husband interestingly smells generic "spices" from the tea and pepper, and says that the scent overall reminds him of Christmas markets (and he's quite enthusiastic in his praise of this one on me).

Personally...

I like Harlequin Rabbit (and it will certainly join my collection, standing alongside my other beloved Rabbits) but I don't yet love it as much as I thought I would. I really do think it just needs time to finish growing into itself. Black Sheep is the quiet standout for me - she's soft and unassuming, but she's a stunner. Red Admiral Butterfly is also quite a triumph - that glorious juicy strawberry! - and anybody who likes (or at least won't mind) the herbal notes should absolutely give it a try. All five of these truly have such artistry and strength of character, so you can't go wrong if you pick the ones that have notes you love.

I (32f) am dating my bf (37m) for almost 6 months, long distance.
I have noticed my bf has a possessive side to him. I may have brought it out through our sexual side, as he claims he hasn’t ever been this way with any other woman before.
Situation #1: we were at a house birthday party for his best friend. My bf and I had a super romantic moment outside when it started pouring down rain. We went back inside soaking wet and his best friend had gone back out in the rain to grab some things. His bestfriend, the host, grabbed us a towel to dry off. Out of instinct, I dried his friends head and face off bc he got us the towel. It was brief, not even 10 seconds long. My bf gut reacted and shoved him. It wouldn’t have looked so bad but his friend was next to something and it kind of tripped him when he got shoved. My boyfriend says he never wants me to put my hands on another man, unless they are seriously injured or they are family.
Situation #2: this situation, he says he is working on but and agrees he needs therapy. He frequently gets upset if I am with people and don’t respond in a reasonable amount of time. He doesn’t get mean or angry or cuss me out, but he gets short and I can tell he is aggravated. This happens with men and women. It typically happens more if I am with people, him and I are having a semi active convo, and I disappear for a bit 30-60 minutes. It’s happened with my boss, my male friends, my girl friends, a potential networking person for my career..
Situation #3: this one, I can understand but it’s difficult for me to get over. I have a male best friend of 16 years. We have had sex twice. Once as teens (awkward) and once as adults (which I realized then, that those feelings aren’t there for him). I told my bf up front, that him and I are extremely close, we rough house including wrestling, talk crap, and just have a great time. My bf now said.. that he doesn’t want me wrestling with him. Said he doesn’t want his hands on me. Said it’s a make or break deal now. Said it wasn’t an issue before because his feelings weren’t as deep as they are.
Situation #4: while we were discussing males touching me at all or me touching any male at all.. (if they are in their prime age), I told him that I am the type of person that willingly helps anyone, no matter the sex. It just happens. I told him I would try my best not to touch or help as much as I use to (I already backed off prior to him), but it still happens. I am a trained massage therapist and I am active in sports. Occasionally injuries happen around me and I briefly assist and try to help the situation. My bf got sick to his stomach while discussing this. Said he doesn’t like the thought of me touching men in any capacity. He is okay if they are seriously injured but if they are capable to help themselves, then I shouldn’t touch them. That also includes arm tears or rolled ankles.. etc.
I told him that him restricting me like this, is asking me to restrict a core part of me that just wants to help people. He doesn’t seem to care.
I told him that I worry about his possessiveness and he could kind of see where I was coming from but it’s inconclusive right now.
I need advice please. He is incredibly sweet. 80% of the relationship is amazing. 80% of the time, he is amazing in all he does. I just —- I don’t know what to do or what to think. I’ve been in abusive relationships before. I know I’m highly sensitive to red flags and what is reasonable and what isn’t.
I just need advice please.

Trial Day 11
Katherine Jackson, Rebbie and Trent are at court.
Choreographer Travis Payne & Katherine Jackson spoke briefly in the courtroom before the jury came in. They seemed cordial
Travis Payne Testimony
AEG direct
Payne is wearing a black jacket with a gold emblem on the shoulders with the word "MJ" & a pair of wings
Payne said he was concerned about MJ missing rehearsals. He didn't know why he wasn't showing up, but MJ was also working on an album and a book
Payne said he did not think that Jackson had a problem abusing prescription medications. He acknowledged that Jackson missed rehearsals and he saw the singer shivering or appearing cold in some of his final rehearsals
He worked with Jackson beginning in the 1990's and testified that he never saw Jackson drink alcohol or take any medications. Michael also never discussed his medical treatments, Payne said
Payne told the jury he advised MJ he was looking thin.

"Michael said he was 'getting down to my fighting weight', which I took to mean that he was preparing for the performances", Payne testified. "I had no reason to doubt him"

Payne says he was satisfied with the response.
Payne said there was one day (6/19) when MJ was cold. He thought the frustration had him on edge. When Jackson needed to be layered in blankets and required a heater to be comfortable, Payne said, he believed Michael was merely fighting a cold.

"No one else was cold. He had flu-like symptoms"
"Sometimes he was tired and lethargic and had to be, not convinced, but supported throughout rehearsals," Payne recalled

Payne said that in April, May & June, MJ missed 5 rehearsals with the whole group. He said one time Ortega sent Michael home
Bina shows an email from Ortega to Gongaware on Jun 14:

"Were you aware that Michael's doctor didn't permit him to attend rehearsal yesterday? Without invading his privacy, it might be a good idea to talk to his doctor to make sure everything he requires is in place. Who is responsible for Michael getting proper nourishment/vitamins/therapy every day? Personally, I feel he should have a top Nutritionist and Physical Therapist working with him on a regular basis. The demand on this guy is mentally and physically extraordinary! The show requirements exhaust our 20 year olds. Please don't underestimate the need to stay on top of this"

Another part of the same email chain, from Gongaware:

"Frank and I have discussed it already and have requested a face-to-face meeting w/ the doctor... We want to remind him that it's AEG not Michael Jackson who's paying his salary We want him to understand what is expected of him. He has been dodging Frank so far

Payne said his understanding was that AEG was paying Dr. Murray's salary not Michael. The doctor was there to oversee many things, Payne said. Payne explained he didn't have much reason to question Dr. Murray since he thought that a doctor selected to work with Michael was top notch.
Bina asked Payne whether he ever met Conrad Murray. The choreographer says he met Murray twice. Payne says the first time he met Dr. Murray was at the Carolwood house.

"I was going up the steps, Dr. Murray going downstairs, Michael introduced us."

Payne was coming up from the basement to the middle floor. Studio was at the basement. Payne said he never went to the top floor of the house. He says the second time was at the Staples Center, after a rehearsal and Jackson was leaving for the day. Both meetings were brief.
When asked how Michael performed on June 23 & 24:

"He was having his process, I didn't expect him to be like he would in front of a crowd," Payne explained. "He was not at show standards ... I didn't expect him to be as he would be in front of a crowd."
Payne: "It ebbed and flowed. Some days were good, some days were not as good."

The last two days were good.

"I thought he was in his way to the goals he set himself," Payne told the jury.

He didn't have any question that MJ would be able to perform , adding that he and others were impressed while watching Jackson rehearse at Staples Center on June 23/24, 2009.
Payne described the day MJ died: He was headed to rehearsal at Michael's home, got a call from his mother who said she saw reports on the news. Payne heard news on the radio, called Staples Center spoke to Stacy Walker, she said they were rehearsing. He was told to go to Staples.

"We were optimistic of his arrival," Payne said explaining they were expecting Michael to rehearse at the Staples Center.

Payne said Ortega got a series of calls. He remembers Kenny saying:

'tell me something that will make me know it's you and that this is true'

​

" I remember him (Kenny Ortega) collapsing in his seat and crying," Payne testified

Payne said he never saw Michael drink alcohol or take medication but

"Sometimes, in rehearsal, Michael would appear just a little loopy, under the influence of something, but mostly when he would come to the rehearsals from the dermatologist," Payne testified.

That happened two to four times in the weeks before his death, he said. Payne told that he didn't think Jackson had a problem with prescription drugs

"Michael was undergoing personal cosmetic procedures, so he could feel great and do a good job," Payne said.

Payne also said he appeared groggy in the morning sometimes, which he attributed to lack of sleep

"Mr. Jackson just explained to me that he had trouble sleeping, that he was tired, and that satisfied me," Payne testified.

He stated that he's not sure how much weight MJ had lost
Payne mentioned one day in particular at a meeting with Andre Crouch and singers, MJ seemed a little out of it
Payne said at one point, he & others tried to bring in a top physical therapist who works with Olympic athletes to help Michael. Jackson didn't work w/physical therapist flown in for him.

"At the last minute we realized that Michael was not going to go through with it. He was just not comfortable with the invasion of personal space."

Bina played a clip of This Is It from Jun 4 showing the green screen and making of "Drill" and Michael talking about the cool moves, dancing. Payne said the idea was to show the rehearsals and how things came together. The footage itself wasn't altered, but there was editing. Payne said they picked the best of the rehearsal to include in the documentary. He wanted to reshoot some scenes but was not allowed. Payne, who was an associate producer on the This Is It documentary, said the footage of Jackson had not been retouched or altered.
Jackson cross
Attorney Brian Panish cross examined Payne. He asked if Michael ever performed the entire show from beginning to end. Payne said "No"

"Was he ready to perform for an audience?", Panish asked.
"I thought he was on his way to the goals he had set for himself," Payne answered. "All I saw was improvement and getting closer to the goals"

Payne's impression was that MJ loved being a father. He said he saw the beauty of their relationships, loyalty to one another.

"When we rehearsed, we had meals together," Payne recalled, talking about Michael and all three children.

Payne thought the relationship between MJ and Prince was awesome, Michael was a proud father, great to see how they interacted. Prince wanted to be a director, Michael would point out things to him during rehearsal should that be his career, Payne remembered.
As to Paris Jackson, Payne said he saw a very protective young lady, smart, astute, with knowledge of the production, very hands on. Paris, who was 11 at the time, was

"a very retentive young lady who was very, very smart, very astute," Payne testified. "She had full knowledge of the day-to-day operations, from the time of lunch and what it was going to be, she was hands on -- far beyond her age," he said. "She had a lot of responsibility, which I think she welcomed"

Payne said she was "the female of the house," and also "a daddy's girl."

"She really loved her father," he said. "At that time, she was coming to find out his global successes and presence, so she would wear her Michael Jackson t-shirt, headband and bag," he said.

It was Paris who would bless the food when they were have lunch with their father at home, he said.

"She was always the most vocal of the three children and was very concerned about many of the details of the house, was the temperature correct, what do you want to eat," Payne testified. "She just handled a lot for her young age"

Blanket, who was 7 when his father died, was the most quiet of the three. He liked to watch his father rehearsing his dances with Payne in the basement studio of their home, Payne said.

"He was quiet, but always right there with his dad," he said.

Michael guided and mentored him. Payne said he would be proud if MJ was his father and agreed the children suffered a tremendous loss. When rehearsing with Jackson at his Holmby Hills residence, Payne said the singer clearly delighted in being a father and shared meals with all three

"I saw the beauty of their relationships. I saw their loyalty to their father, I saw his loyalty to them. Their father enlightened them and taught them", he testified. "I was very proud to see Michael as such a loving father."
Panish: "Was Paris a Daddy's girl?"
Payne: "Yes, I believe so"

His description of the close relationship Paris (15) and Prince (16) had with their father four years ago could foreshadow the significance of the children's testimony later in the trial.
Payne always carries a video camera with him and shot videos of rehearsal. AEG took the footage that Payne shot and never returned to him. Email from Randy to Paul:

"Make sure you take out the shots of Michael in that red jacket... He looks way too thin and skeletal."

Payne said he was not aware of the email. He said Michael looked thin, but not skeletal. He doesn't know if Paul/Randy took any the footage out. The email was not displayed for the jury
As for Michael's relationship with Katherine, Payne said

"there's no secret that he loved his mother very much. It is kind of common knowledge"

​

"Karen Faye is a make up artist. She designed the make up, was always there when Michael was there", Payne testified.

Payne said Faye and MJ had a long term working relationship. They spent a lot of personal time together. Faye was concerned and frustrated with how Michael looked. She went to Payne kind of in an aggressive way. Payne told her to report to Ortega.
Payne said he wanted MJ to have a physical therapist, nutritionist, massage therapist, and have his family around. He said this was a different scenario.

"This was the first time MJ was working with AEG," Payne testified, saying he had always been hired by MJJ production before.

Payne said this was the first time Michael was not the sole producer of the show. Payne started working without a signed contract. He was being paid by AEG. Panish showed Payne's written contract. It is between Payne and AEG, beginning April 1, 2009. The contract said only AEG could cancel it. He testified that there was a delay in his contract with AEG because the salary was not in line with his standard charges, but that things worked out after he had a conversation with Jackson. Payne also said he believed AEG was paying Murray's salary, not Jackson
Payne was hired and paid by AEG. His contract was with AEG.

Panish: "Who could fire you. AEG?"
Payne: "I'm sure"

Things became heated when Panish inquired about a text message Karen Faye sent to Payne that accused him of lying to the media after Michael's death. He said earlier Faye had approached him in an "aggressive" way about her concern for Jackson's health but he told her to take her concerns to Ortega.

"I do not remember receiving a text message from Karen Faye asking why I was lying to the media," Payne explained.
Panish: "Were you upset when MJ died?"
Payne: "Yes"

During cross-examination, Payne was shown several photos of premieres for the This Is It documentary .Panish shows a picture of Payne at the red carpet premiere. He agreed he was happy about the premiere. In one, Ortega & AEG executive Randy Phillips flank Jackson's manager, Frank DiLeo, who has a cigar hanging out of his mouth. All three are grinning. Brian Panish, the attorney for Jackson's family, remarked that everyone looked pretty happy
Payne said he wasn't privy to details of what was expected of Dr. Murray. AEG was producepromoter, but MJ was the star, had to be happy
Panish reminded Payne that he had testified in his deposition that AEG was

"trying to protect its investment"

​

"I don't have a dog in this race so I'm not on either side", an aggravated Payne countered adding that he felt Panish was being aggressive. "I'm just saying I don't want to be painted as somebody who's trying to mask anything".

After several hours of testy exchanges with Panish, his voice quivered and he dabbed his eyes with a tissue.

"I'm just trying to have a conversation with you and tell the truth."

Panish asked Payne if defendants' attorney approached him during lunch to show him some documents. He said yes, he saw parts of his deposition
Under cross examination, Payne acknowledged that some of Jackson's behavior, including grogginess, lethargy, insomnia and occasional paranoia, were possible symptoms of prescription drug abuse. He also said that despite testifying earlier that he worked with Jackson one-on-one five days a week, he couldn't recall how many rehearsals the singer actually attended
Panish after lunch break got Travis Payne to concede Jackson wasn't present for a May 19, 2009 rehearsal. Payne also conceded that Jackson was a no-show for a June 22, 2009 rehearsal. Panish confronted Payne saying that yesterday he said he was with MJ at a dance studio on May 19, that they were up on their feet & danced.

Panish: "Sir, Michael was not with you May 19, 2009, was he?"
Payne: "No"
Panish: "He was at the doctor"
Payne: "If you're saying, I'm not disputing"

Panish said that on May 19, Michael was having a cyst removed at Dr. Klein's office, so he could not have been rehearsing with Payne.
Panish then said on Jun 22 MJ wasn't there either, "was he?"
Payne said he didn't know.
Panish said MJ was at another doctor's office
Payne said he may have made a mistake about Jackson's whereabouts & he didn't know his personal schedule. Travis Payne had testified yesterday that he and Jackson ran through certain songs on May 19th. He said today he was testifying based on the schedule and notes he compiled and that his recollection might be wrong

"We're human, sometimes we make mistakes," Payne explained, saying he's not disputing that Michael was or wasn't there on those dates.

Payne said there was always something for Michael to do.

"He needed to come to rehearsal, it was part of the job"

Payne said Michael had a hard time picking up some of the material. He was having trouble learning dances, Payne says. Email from Ortega to Gongaware:

"He has been slow at grabbing hold of the work"

Jackson was having trouble learning dances, choreographer Travis Payne says

"Prior to June, I noticed Mr. Jackson was thinner than I recognized him," Payne said, noting he never saw sudden weight change in MJ.

Second time Payne saw Dr. Murray was the night before Michael died at Staples Center.

"I wanted Michael to go home and go to sleep" Payne recalls. Payne said something about Murray felt off, Payne said. "He didn't feel like an official doctor"

Payne knew MJ had sleeping problems and that Dr. Murray was treating him for that. Ortega also knew; Payne thought Gongaware was aware too. Payne also said he and Ortega knew that Jackson was having sleep problems. Attorney Brian Panish asks if AEG executives knew. There were several objections, and Payne was only allowed to answer "No" as to whether Paul Gongaware knew about Michael's sleep problems
Panish asked Payne about choosing Jackson's dancers for This Is It. Payne says they were whittled down from 5,000 applicants. Applicants submitted video clips and their submissions were used to cull down potential dancers from there. Payne said they received 5,000 applications for dancers, about 2,500 showed up for the audition.He taught them some dance moves, and the pool was further narrowed down. Michael chose the dancers
Panish then asked Payne whether he knew how many doctors AEG interviewed to work with Jackson on This Is It. "No", Payne says. Payne also says he isn't aware how much interviewing or investigation into Murray that AEG did.(Panish's point appears to be that there was more scrutiny of backup dancers than Conrad Murray)
During preparations for This Is It, Michael at times seemed "under the influence of something" and once couldn't take the stage because he appeared incoherent, Payne testified.
Payne said he was aware that Jackson had problems sleeping and chalked up the singer's sometimes erratic behavior to sleep aids or sedatives from his dermatologist visits.

"You have to understand that one always says hindsight is 20/20. In the moment I had no inkling of what, ultimately, what was revealed until Mr. Jackson's passing", he said

Payne saw Michael tired and fatigued. He agreed that those symptoms could be signs of drug addiction. Payne was aware that MJ was losing weight during rehearsals and he had not seeing him lose weight like that before.

"He was not in great physical shape and was sore,working up his stamina. Lack of sleep and proper nourishment were starting to show", Payne said.

Payne says at one point, he told Kenny Ortega that Jackson appeared "assisted" (meaning that he thought he was on drugs\meds)
Payne said some people were concerned about the goals not being met, including Randy Phillips and Paul Gongaware. Payne learned what Demerol was after MJ died. He also remembers a mention of Demerol in the song "Morphine".
Panish asked if MJ knew the lyrics of his songs.

"I think he did, he knew most of them, but he wanted to have a Teleprompter for safety.He didn't want to make any mistakes, to refresh his memory. Also to use for sequence of songs",Payne said.

Payne agreed that it was very unusual for Michael to have a Teleprompter with the lyrics of his own songs. He never used it before. Payne didn't specify which songs Jackson wanted the teleprompter for
Payne said a body double was requested for Michael. Misha Gabriel was his body double, but shorter than him. Some of the scenes in the documentary are with the body double, Payne testified. Payne remembers at the Culver Studios in Smooth Criminal there was a stunt and Misha was asked to jump through a glass plate
Payne said most the time, MJ was present at rehearsals. "It wasn't a big deal," he expressed
Panish showed an email from the band leader Michael Bearden:

"Michael is not in shape enough yet to sing this stuff live and dance at the same time. He can use the ballads to sing live and get his stamina back up, Once he's healthy enough and has more strength I Have full confidence he can sing the majority of the show live. His voice sounds amazing right now, he needs to build it back up. I still need all big dance numbers to be in the system so we can concentrate on choreography."

Payne was aware that AEG was considering in mid June pulling the plug on the show. He said Michael looked exhausted & paranoid on Jun 19. Jackson's condition and missed rehearsals led to talk within the last 10 days of Jackson's life that AEG Live LLC, which was promoting "This Is It," might cancel the concert series.

"It was 'We've got to get this together or the plug may be pulled,'" Payne says

Payne was working for AEG and said he relayed his concerns about Jackson's possible prescription drug use and that he was exhibiting troubling signs of insomnia, weight loss and paranoia in his final days to tour director Kenny Ortega. Jackson was struggling to get into shape for the shows, and Payne said his voice coach suggested using a voice track for fast-paced songs until the singer's stamina improved.
Payne went to Michael's house on June 20. He was cold and had to light the fireplace and rub his hand and feet to warm himself up
Panish showed a picture of Michael on June 24 rehearsing "Thriller"; Payne said MJ improved but was not at his best yet.

Panish: "Around June 20, was Ortega in the mindset that Michael Jackson was not ready for this?" Payne: "Yes"

Payne said Michael was not ready, it was not the Michael he knew. He died four days later. But he didn't see anything that alarmed him on June 23/24

Panish:" Did you see that Michael was getting pressured to get everything done in the last days?" Payne: "Yes"

Payne said he could sense something was wrong, but didn't know what it was. He said Jackson's performances in the final days of his life were impressive, and it felt

"like we were definitely on an upswing"

​

"I never doubted Michael because he was the architect of this and he wanted to do it, so part of my responsibility was to help him get there", Payne said, his voice racked with emotion.

Panish ended his direct examination of choreographer Travis Payne with three questions.

Panish: "Did you see that Michael Jackson appeared to be pressured to get everything done at the Staples last rehearsals?"
"Yes," Payne said
Panish: "The pressure about the shows started to manifest itself physically in Michael Jackson?"
"Yes," Payne replied.
Panish:" You could sense that something was wrong, you just didn't know what it was?"
Payne responded "Yes."

AEG re-direct
Payne's demeanor changed after Panish finished questioning him. He was holding back tears when the AEG attorney started re-direct examination. For the next several moments, Payne blinked and dabbed both eyes with a tissue. It was the first time he'd gotten emotional on the stand.

Bina in re-direct asked: "Do you think you could get him there?"
Payne: "Absolutely!"

Bina asked Payne again about how many rehearsals Jackson attended. Payne said MJ was present a significant amount of the days he was scheduled to work but he couldn't recall dates, precisely how many that Jackson attended.
As to Gongaware's email regarding what was expected of Dr. Murray, Payne said the inconsistencies with Michael missing rehearsals warrant a talk. Payne said he thought Dr. Murray was there to care for his patient, making sure right nutritionist was there, to get him ready for the show. Payne never discussed with MJ about his doctors or personal affairs. Payne and Faye were professionals with each other, but not friends.

"Production felt he wasn't coming to rehearsals enough, and that was frustrating to some of the staff," Payne testified. "I had a concern we needed to create a show Michael would enjoy doing it," Payne explained

She also showed Payne photos from the This Is It premiere. First photo is of Payne shaking Jermaine Jackson's hand at the movie premiere. Bina also showed another image of smiling Jermaine, Tito, Jackie and Marlon with Payne at the premiere. Payne cried saying he had been through so much and the rough part was behind them. He was pleased to show the fans what the show was to be.
Jackson re-cross
In re-cross, Panish notes that none of Michael's brothers are part of this lawsuit.
Panish then asked Payne whether Katherine Jackson and Michael's kids went to the premiere. Panish says Katherine Jackson & her grandchildren didn't go to the premiere because they weren't over Jackson's death. Payne said he didn't think anyone was over Jackson's death when the film premiered in late 2009.
Court Transcript

34, M. I’ve been in the design, architectural space for 10 years but found a great role structured with commission where I am in more of a sales role in the same industry. I’ve been wanting to get into a role like this with higher earning potential.
5 weeks ago I started. Job description line regarding benefits literally says, VERBATIM, “$275 is contributed towards medical plan after 30 days”
Okay sounds very nice, I take that as whatever plan I select, $275 is covered which to me is basically free health insurance. My plan is $147 bi weekly so $294. Before being employed I had my own plan through the marketplace which was $210 a month, nice low deductible too. So instead of asking for a slightly higher base salary or higher percentage structure of commission (until I switch to 100% commission structure with higher payouts) I just say screw it I’ll accept at least I’m getting free health insurance.
Now my CFO is saying no, $147 is still what you pay bi-weekly. That’s what’s leftover of your plan after we pay our portion. I’m like, $500+ a month for a medical plan that I could’ve gotten for less than HALF myself? So now I’m locked into this medical plan until open enrollment in July, I cancelled my personal plan I had already worked towards my deductible, AND now 10% of my income is going to a medical plan I was under the impression was PAID FOR by them. If my plan is over $275 I’d happily pay the difference.
Some other red flags, a previous employee sued them in small claims for ‘wage theft’ on commissions she didn’t get paid for (granted she never finalized closing the sale but she did do some designs for the clients), they also only allow $35 expense allowance when traveling PER DAY for food which seems insanely low in this climate, there’s also a bit of a revolving door with guys in the field doing the construction so unsure if they’re underpaid too. I brought up the medical insurance smokescreen to her and I should have a discussion with them later this week. I’m basically asking for my salary to be increased where my medical insurance can be paid for and I still take home what my current base salary should be. In increase of $275 per month is what I’m asking for a $36k base salary of $880 a week.. PLUS my experience in this industry is what it is..

I started stim on 5/2/24, which was the second day of my cycle/period. Here are some stats: * AMH 1.48 and AFC 32 (12 on the left and 20 on the right) at baseline bloodwork and ulttasound in February. * I had alcohol until 2 days before my cycle started. I didn't drink once my period started. * I stopped lifting weights once I started stim. I didn't do much cardio either.
This was my protocol (Day 1 means "day 1 of stim", which is the second day of my cycle):
Day 1-Day 4 * Gonal F 225iu * Menupur 75iu
Symptoms: Slightly more emotional. Belly felt like I might be pregnant and I felt the need to be extra careful when getting out of bed etc. Overall felt my usual self.
Sex: Non penetrative. Orgasm caused no discomfort. At certain times, sucking in my tummy felt a bit like I might be pushing down on something inside me.
Tests: bloodwork and ultrasound on Day 1
Day 5-Day 9 * Gonal F 225iu * Menupur 75iu * Centrotide .25mg
Symtoms: Not much.
Tests: bloodwork and ultrasound on Day 5 and Day 8. I think they said the follicular count was 6 on the left and 16 on the right.
Sex: Non penetrative maybe around Day 5 or 6. Orgasm caused no discomfort.
Day 10 * Gonal F 225iu * Menupur 75iu * Centrotide .25mg Trigger shots at 9:45pm * HCG (Novarel) 5000 is * Lupron (Leuprolide Acetate) 80 units (4mg)
Tests: bloodwork and ultrasound on Day 10. Follicular count (that were large enough) had increased to 8 on the left and 18 on the right. Most of them were around 16mm to 17mm. I think there was one that was like 19mm. This is from memory so the numbers might not be exact.
Day 11
• 11am Azithromycin 1g (two 500 mg tablets)
I was asked to take this on Day 10 at night, but I misread the instructions and took it in the AM on Day 11. I was told this is fine.
Hydration: I drank a lot of water throughout the day in preparation for surgery the next day. I didn't eat or drink anything after 11pm that night.
Symtoms: Woke up on Day 11 with pelvic discomfort and cramps which I figured was from the trigger shots the night before. I was waddling a bit when walking. Driving over small bumps caused discomfort. After taking the Azithromicin at 11am, I felt a bit feverish. I had to lay down. I fell asleep for a couple of hours. I woke up around 3pm feeling perfectly fine. The pelvic cramps were gone as well. The rest of the day was smooth sailing, except for this feeling like my stomach was stretched beyond normal. It almost felt like I was constantly holding in my stomach because of the way it was stretching my tummy.
Tests: bloodwork on Day 11
Day 12
Retrieval in the morning. The IV stung throughout the procedure until they put me under. This was probably the most uncomfortable part of the entire procefure. I was out of the clinic in almost exactly 2 hours. It almost felt like I just went in for a blood draw and walked out. It doesn't feel like anyone did anything down there.
Before leaving the hospital they told me they were able to retrieve 30 eggs. Later in the day they left a message in the online portal saying they were able to freeze 27.
I spent the day on the couch drinking gatorade. Took a nap. Overall I'm felt great, other than for a very slight headache which started around 6pm. I had a Tylenol extra strengh which helped. It kind of felt like I drank a bit the night before and I was hungover. I'm prescribed Letrozole two times for 7 days a day and Cabergoline at night for 16 days.
Costs\ My insurance didn't cover anything related to fertility. Out of pocket cost was around $13300 ($8100 for procedure, $650 anesthesia, $35 initial tele visit, $4500 medication). I might have spent an additional $150-$300 in bloodwork.
I did have an additional $760 added to my cost because I visited a different hospital initially (Penn medicine in Philly) - they were not upfront about all the costs and ended up charging me $380 for the initial visit with the doctor (which was a bit like a sales pitch) and another $380 for the baseline ultrasound even though they told me it would be covered by my insurance. It was also really hard to get a call back from their billing team (they rarely return your calls).
Scheduling\ Main Line fertility in Philly worked with my cycle. Since I already had the baseline ultrasound and bloodwork done, they were able to get me started on stims with my upcoming cycle.
They required me to call them on Day 1 of my period to schedule to come in and get bloodwork on Day 2. I started stim on Day 2 of my period. I had my retrieval on Day 13 of my period.
End to end, starting from my first consult with them, I had my eggs retrieved in 21 days.
The hospital I was working with previously (Penn Medicine), had me going around in circles for months. It was extremely stressful. I'll write a separate post about red flags to look out for when choosing a clinic/hospital.

Background

The septons preach about the seven hells. What do they know? Only a man who's been burned knows what hell is truly like. -AGOT, Sansa II

GRRM has been hinting around about Sandor Clegane and his relationship with fire since the beginning (its the first thing mentioned about him in AGOT, Eddard I). In this post I thought I would explore that a bit and see what it could mean for TWoW.
Note: I don't think gods exist in ASOIAF, they are just sources of magic. So when I say R'hllor throughout the post I pretty much just mean "fire magic".
The Initial Burning
While the Hound is walking Sansa home from the Hand's Tourney, he gives Sansa the story of how he was burned:

"Most of them, they think it was some battle. A siege, a burning tower, an enemy with a torch. One fool asked if it was dragonsbreath." His laugh was softer this time, but just as bitter. "I'll tell you what it was, girl," he said, a voice from the night, a shadow leaning so close now that she could smell the sour stench of wine on his breath. "I was younger than you, six, maybe seven. A woodcarver set up shop in the village under my father's keep, and to buy favor he sent us gifts. The old man made marvelous toys. I don't remember what I got, but it was Gregor's gift I wanted. A wooden knight, all painted up, every joint pegged separate and fixed with strings, so you could make him fight. Gregor is five years older than me, the toy was nothing to him, he was already a squire, near six foot tall and muscled like an ox. So I took his knight, but there was no joy to it, I tell you. I was scared all the while, and true enough, he found me. There was a brazier in the room. Gregor never said a word, just picked me up under his arm and shoved the side of my face down in the burning coals and held me there while I screamed and screamed. You saw how strong he is. Even then, it took three grown men to drag him off me. The septons preach about the seven hells. What do they know? Only a man who's been burned knows what hell is truly like. -AGOT, Sansa II

Bran's Vision
Several chapters before that, we see the Hound's "terrible face" in Bran's vision of the shadows during his coma dream (note that the scope of the series was much smaller here):

He looked south, and saw the great blue-green rush of the Trident. He saw his father pleading with the king, his face etched with grief. He saw Sansa crying herself to sleep at night, and he saw Arya watching in silence and holding her secrets hard in her heart. There were shadows all around them. One shadow was dark as ash, with the terrible face of a hound. Another was armored like the sun, golden and beautiful. Over them both loomed a giant in armor made of stone, but when he opened his visor, there was nothing inside but darkness and thick black blood. -AGOT, Bran III

worth noting that R'hllor is referred to as the "god of flame and shadow" as well:

On one side is R'hllor, the Lord of Light, the Heart of Fire, the God of Flame and Shadow. Against him stands the Great Other whose name may not be spoken, the Lord of Darkness, the Soul of Ice, the God of Night and Terror. Ours is not a choice between Baratheon and Lannister, between Greyjoy and Stark. It is death we choose, or life. Darkness, or light." -ASOS, Davos III

The Blackwater
In his next encounter with fire, the Hound flees the Battle on the Blackwater:

The night of the battle, Sandor Clegane had come to her chambers to take her from the city, but Sansa had refused. Sometimes she lay awake at night, wondering if she'd been wise. She had his stained white cloak hidden in a cedar chest beneath her summer silks. She could not say why she'd kept it. The Hound had turned craven, she heard it said; at the height of the battle, he got so drunk the Imp had to take his men. But Sansa understood. She knew the secret of his burned face. It was only the fire he feared. That night, the wildfire had set the river itself ablaze, and filled the very air with green flame. Even in the castle, Sansa had been afraid. Outside . . . she could scarcely imagine it. -ASOS, Sansa I

Trial by Combat
When Sandor fights Beric we see a flaming sword seemingly begin to defeat the Hound:

The flaming sword leapt up to meet the cold one, long streamers of fire trailing in its wake like the ribbons the Hound had spoken of. Steel rang on steel. No sooner was his first slash blocked than Clegane made another, but this time Lord Beric's shield got in the way, and wood chips flew from the force of the blow. Hard and fast the cuts came, from low and high, from right and left, and each one Dondarrion blocked. The flames swirled about his sword and left red and yellow ghosts to mark its passage. Each move Lord Beric made fanned them and made them burn the brighter, until it seemed as though the lightning lord stood within a cage of fire. "Is it wildfire?" Arya asked Gendry.
"No. This is different. This is . . ." -ASOS, Arya VI

but at the very end we see Sandor somehow win this "holy thing":

Smooth as summer silk, Lord Beric slid close to make an end of the man before him. The Hound gave a rasping scream, raised his sword in both hands and brought it crashing down with all his strength. Lord Beric blocked the cut easily . . .
"Noooooo," Arya shrieked.. . .
but the burning sword snapped in two, and the Hound's cold steel plowed into Lord Beric's flesh where his shoulder joined his neck and clove him clean down to the breastbone. The blood came rushing out in a hot black gush.
Sandor Clegane jerked backward, still burning. He ripped the remnants of his shield off and flung them away with a curse, then rolled in the dirt to smother the fire running along his arm. -ASOS, Arya VI

so he is set free by the Brotherhood, minus his gold (Fun Fact: The Brotherhood ends up with a good amount of gold from the Hand's Tourney).
What's Next?
When the Hound begins to follow them, some members want him dead but Thoros states that there must be some purpose left for Sandor.

Lord Beric shook his head. "Clegane won his life beneath the hollow hill. I will not rob him of it."
"My lord is wise," Thoros told the others. "Brothers, a trial by battle is a holy thing. You heard me ask R'hllor to take a hand, and you saw his fiery finger snap Lord Beric's sword, just as he was about to make an end of it. The Lord of Light is not yet done with Joffrey's Hound, it would seem." -ASOS, Arya VII

and I seem to think that similar to the show, the next step in Sandor's plotline (after Brother Ray (show) and Elder Brother (book series) is another encounter with the Brotherhood without Banners.

• The Brotherhood is likely using his helm to lure others into traps as we could potentially see with Lyle Crakehall. If interested: The (Strong)Boar & the "Hound" and:

"Where is she?"
"A day's ride. I can take you to her, ser … but you will need to come alone. Elsewise, the Hound will kill her." -ADWD, Jaime I

• The Elder brother was the last person to see the Sandor alive as he tells Brienne (they also have his horse). After the Red Wedding, Lady Stoneheart and the BwB were hot on Arya/The Hound's trail before losing them (they find get his helm from Rorge). It is current unknown if Brienne has given this information to the Brotherhood/LSH or not but it definitely ties together the plotline. If interested: Arya Stark: The Key to Jaime/Brienne & Lady Stoneheart

Sandor in Hell
Doesn't really deserve its own section, but I thought this matched up really well:

The septons preach about the seven hells. What do they know? Only a man who's been burned knows what hell is truly like. -AGOT, Sansa II

and:

Lem grabbed her wrist and twisted, wrenching the dagger away. She kicked at him, but he would not give it back. "You go to hell, Hound," she screamed at Sandor Clegane in helpless empty-handed rage. "You just go to hell!"
"He has," said a voice scarce stronger than a whisper. -ASOS, Arya VI

Random Thoughts

• With the identity of "The Hound" shifting from Sandor to Rorge and then Lem, it has created a Legacy Character
• The Hound wanted to sell Arya to Lysa but stopped due to weathebeasts/mountain clans. I am only half joking when I say maybe he would have changed his mind if he knew how much the Burned Men respected fire mutilation. If interested: The Vale Mountain Clans in TWoW
• While not "confirmed" the novice gravedigger on the Quiet Isle is likely Sandor. He is lame. That said the Elder Brother and Thoros are both noted "healers". We have also seen lame characters fight via horseback (ex: The Hedge Knight) although I am not sure this is necessary for his character arc.

Note: Sorry this post is pretty choppy. The new reddit posting interface is pretty terrible to deal with.
TLDR: It is no secret that GRRM has been building up Sandor Clegane (formerly the Hound) and fire from the beginning. With him surviving his fight with a flaming sword (not wildfire) there is some potential "purpose" left for his life (Arya wouldn't end it for him either).

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.

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I, 26F have a 6 m/o son with my ex, 31M, of 1 month. I know what you may be thinking, and yes, you read it right. Before my son, I was a hopeless romantic and I accepted love in all the wrong places. When I broke up with my ex and soon after found out I was pregnant, I learned my lesson about having relations and being too trusting of people I barely know. I have been single and focusing on taking care of my son ever since. A little background on the history of my ex and I:
We met on social media last year and he texted me first with a line that I’ve never heard from anyone, it made me laugh, so I thought I would give him a chance. He said all the right things to me, and lied about so much (for example, he lied about having a twin sister and she’s the same age as me) and I fell for it. We ended up meeting in person, he told me he loved me after a week or so of being together (major red flag that I ignored) and that was the very night I conceived my son. Shortly afterwards, I found out he was cheating on me and he stole money from me. Then about a month later, I found out I was pregnant and when I told him he was excited at first.
We kept a line of communication, but he made most of my pregnancy stressful. He denied my child and told people that I was pregnant when we met, we only had sex once (we didn’t but IF WE DID, the dummy doesn’t realize it only takes one time to get pregnant), and that we were never in a relationship. In the same breath he was trying to cheat on his several girlfriends with me, but I wasn’t having it. I would also notify him of appointments to check on the baby and he would say he’ll come and ended up being a no show. I tried to keep him updated on the baby and he would say I didn’t. He had me involved in so much drama and I eventually found out he had two other women pregnant at the same time as me (he denies getting one of those two pregnant but I know he’s lying). It was just too much. Eventually we went no contact and shortly after, he went to jail. He stayed for the better half of the pregnancy and for about the first month him being incarcerated, we got back in contact with each other again and he tried to make me do favors for him that I wasn’t comfortable doing because it would start drama or I just wasn’t obligated to do and this became a huge problem for him since I was not doing what he wanted. It turned into an argument and he told me not contact him again, so I told him he wouldn’t hear from me again and blocked him. For months he had strangers texting me on his behalf asking me to contact him because he felt remorseful. I blocked those numbers as well because I didn’t want to stress anymore during the rest of my pregnancy than I already have. Long story short, we were in contact on and off and he eventually was released from jail. He didn’t attend the birth of the baby because I didn’t want him there. I wanted to have a peaceful labor and delivery.
After my son’s birth, he was asking to see him but I didn’t want him anywhere near us. My mom made me change my mind by telling me that I should let him see the baby because I don’t want to give him the chance to say that I never let my son see him if he were to ask in the future why he couldn’t come around him. To this day, he has not physically seen my son since he was born and has only helped once with him financially. He’s only seen him via FaceTime and after a month of my son being born, he went back to jail for violating his probation. Ever since, we have been on and off with communication. He always tries to get back in a relationship with me, even when I have told him no several times (and he knows why but expects me to get over him treating me like shit when I was pregnant), flirts with me and calls me “bae” even after I would tell him to stop. We still fight from time to time and he always goes out of his way to disrespect me. So now I don’t answer when he calls unless the baby is awake and he says things to me like “when I call, you need to answer” and “don’t let anyone keep you away from me”. I don’t want to talk to him unless it’s about our son, I’ve made this clear to him several times and he blatantly dismisses it and gets angry because he can’t get any control over me. He doesn’t respect me or my wishes and I don’t want to deal with it any longer, but I don’t want to deny my son of his father. I feel like he thinks he has some kind of sense of ownership over me because I have his child and it doesn’t sit well with me at all.
Would I be the asshole if I stopped contacting him because he makes me feel uncomfortable?