TL;DR - I’m 24w pregnant and at my breaking point with my current job. Have a new job already but it won’t pay me for 2 months. My family thinks I’m stupid bc I want to quit right now. Would It be a bad decision?
First of all Ty for reading. I’m at a huge dilemma right now that is causing me extreme stress.
I (19F) am 24 weeks pregnant and a FTM. My fiancé (21M) and I have been together for 4 years, we own a house together, have decent paying jobs and have been living together for almost a year, about to be married in July, so we are pretty put together for our age. We also have everything in order for our son, if he was born tomorrow (which I obviously don’t hope for!) he’d have everything he could ever need for his first few months of life, including crib, car seat, clothes, diapers etc. I have been very excited for this pregnancy and also wanted to prove myself as a young mom so I made sure of this before I even hit trimester 3, plus with so many big events coming up, we had an early baby shower with a diaper raffle and everything.
So my problem is I’m working full time as a CNA to help with my half of the bills, and I absolutely HATE my job. Not only is the job itself grueling, but as I get farther along in my pregnancy it has become exhausting and every day is a mental battle. My job consists of constant bending over, lifting 300+ lb residents either in bed or into chairs, sitting on my knees (well really my butt bc of circulation issues) and being on my feet majority of the day. I could put up with it easier if I had any inclination of help throughout the day. Healthcare facilities are usually understaffed, but my building recently had a walk-out of literally 20 staff members, most of them CNAs, and it leaves the rest of us short handed pretty much every day. I have had several instances of asking nurses and MACs for help and they outright refuse or come up with stupid excuses why it’s not their job. Just yesterday I reported a nurse for walking out of the room when I pretty much TOLD her to help me because I couldn’t do cares on a specific individual myself, she walked out because I was “arguing” with her. I had a huge screaming match with my managers a couple of weeks ago basically threatening to sue them if they kept putting me on this one unit, which I am almost guaranteed to take on 20 patients by myself when I work there. They are so short staffed that they can’t even afford to fire me. My paychecks have been inconsistent for months starting back when they cut all of my hours, now half of the employees left they are constantly asking me to pick up extra shifts. I constantly say no because I can barely make myself go work my regular scheduled shifts. My paychecks continue to be inconsistent because of the amount of times I’ve called in. I just have stopped caring and the only reason I haven’t walked out yet is because I want to be responsible and I know I won’t get fired for missing work anyway.
I am BEYOND over it. I have been wanting to quit for weeks, but struggled to find another job that suited my wants and needs, as I DID NOT want to be a CNA anymore so I told myself I wouldn’t quit until I had something good lined up. It’s difficult to get hired while pregnant because most employers see it as a loss due to maternity leave and pay. The thing is, I actually did find another job and have already been hired and technically making money, I just won’t get paid until after I get my license which will take bout 2 months. It’s 100% commission based but the company has trades in the NYSE and I can make really good money there if I can get clients. I am ready to throw myself and my focus into this new career, and I’ve been looking for any excuse to leave my current job, I really don’t care if I’m not getting paid atm.
I talked to my fiancé, my parents, and my bsf about this and they all pretty much told me I’m stupid for thinking I can quit my current job right now. My fiancé is actually the most supportive out of all of them but he is scared about our finances and worries about how he’s going to pay the bills on his own. Mind you, he has $5000 in personal savings and our shared account that we put money in for our bills is about two months ahead of our monthly expenses, so it’s not like we don’t have ANY money at all. I definitely don’t want to drain our savings in the meantime, but with this new career I could potentially make more than I am currently making, meaning I could soon put way more into savings than I ever was since we moved in. My parents think I should wait until after the wedding to quit my job so I know I’ll have money for the expenses, however, we already paid for majority of the venue costs and they agreed to help us with the rest of the expenses like food, my dress etc (I am NOT getting an expensive dress, it’ll be $300 at most.) they act like I will be constantly asking them for money, which I haven’t done once since living on my own, or that I won’t be able take care of myself. My plans were to get my last paycheck from my current job and put it all towards our bills. We are also expecting one last rent payment from our roommates who are in the process of moving out. At worst we will only need to take a bit out of savings and I can’t allow myself any frivolous spending until I start making money again.
I just feel trapped and like nobody close to me understands what I’m going through. I cried for like an hour last night just thinking about having to go back to work, I just have no idea how I can keep this up for another two months. My self confidence in my ability to prosper in this new job is also deflated due to my family’s reaction. Pregnancy hormones aren’t helping … I thought I’d ask y’all bc ik my family is just worried about my financial security and doesn’t want anything bad to happen. I just want to message HR tonight and never go back.
BTW my current job doesn’t offer paid maternity leave so there’s no reason to wait for that.
Any thoughts?

Perhaps my biggest autistic trait is that I have tactile sensitivity to a great extent; I really feel what I am wearing; clearly more than other people do. I always dress for comfort, not looks. It's bad enough that I may not enjoy my own wedding day because doing so means I would have to wear a suit, lol.
A recently got a job in the tech sector were they wear pants a lot; like, all the time, even though the company is in the south (it's hot outside).
I wore dress shorts that I like and feel good in most of the time. But a certain individual doesn't like me wearing them, told me it's unprofessional. They're a bit old fashioned at this company, if you ask me.
Putting aside leaving the company (which I may do, but I may just wind up in the same situation again later - or just fight for my right to wear shorts by explaining the situation and who I am), I decided I would at least try to look for super-comfortable pants that look alright.
I have these, and they are pretty good; they get the job done & they're far better than jeans, but I would like even more comfortable. I want something where when I sit I don't feel stretching pulling against my knee caps.
I presume I'm not along with this problem in this specific subreddit? tl;dr: What brands do y'all recommend?

HELP! I Need advice. I was invited to my nephews wedding, which is on the West Coast and I am on the east. My sister wants me to go because I am basically the only family left except for my son which he doesn’t want to go and I don’t blame him because he’s not close with my nephew. I let him off the hook as I would have to pay for him to go as far as getting him a suit, airline, etc. Not to mention, I am not close with my nephew either. I wanted to just give a nice gift which was a substantial amount of money instead of going to the wedding which would cost me dress, hotel, air and the list goes on. But my sister really wanted me there, and since my son was not coming, she said to bring Wayne my significant other that I’ve been with for over two years. I was hesitant to do this as I felt he would not know anyone and since we are renting a car, he could just explore California on his own while I’m at the wedding for the day. Well my sister kept saying what is he gonna do stay in the room by himself, I finally agreed and told Wayne that he could go to the wedding. At least I’d have someone to be at the reception to dance with and eat with because I basically don’t know anyone else and everyone will be couples. Wayne was fine with either way. Well I just learned that the wedding was overbooked in other words, they invited 170 people hoping that 120 would show. I am sorry, but this is the most ridiculous thing I ever heard. restaurants over book or airlines but you don’t overbook for a wedding if you invite 100 people you should expect 100 and maybe a few won’t show but plan for 100. That’s how I see it, I was told that since they’re overbooked, I can’t bring Wayne. I didn’t want to go to this wedding from the beginning, but didn’t want to cause trouble with my sister. I need advice what you would do and how you would handle this. My sister does not want to talk to the bride and my nephew just tells my sister to ask Janelle (his fiancé) as she is the planner. I believe my sister is afraid of her and doesn’t wanna cause a commotion. In My mind I’m angry because my sister did not stick up for me and on top of that has only a very few coming. there are many others from other sides, I am her only sister, and basically the only person left in her family. Lastly this is a weekend wedding. Rehearsal dinner Thurs., Wedding, reception and party all day Fri., brunch on Sat and pool party on Sunday. I am not going to rehearsal dinner as I am pissed and as of now just going to wedding on Friday which is at another location from the hotel. I will be stuck at that location all day, unless I have Wayne pick me up after ceremony and we can be on our way but I will be by myself and I was only replacing one body with another. TIA

By popular demand, I guess...
I was kinda just being a smart-ass, but some of you wanted more so here it is: epilogues for every NPC as if they didn't continue to travel with Gorion's Ward and instead just decided to live their own life. Obviously, there are some implied alignment changes here.
This turned out to be longer than I expected and I kinda just threw it all together while I was working. Please excuse any typos or sloppy writing.
I want to apologize for one thing, though. Viconia's epilogue really only works if GW is a male, so I had to make that assumption for the sake of her story. If it matters any, I easily play just as many female GWs as I do male GWs. In fact, I probably play more female GWs because I don't care for the romances, frequently play the canon party, and want to nip the lame Jah romance in the bud.
But, to have them all in one place, I included my original smart-ass epilogues with the additional ones I created. Now, every character from BG1 and BG2 has an epilogue. I don't have the EE characters, though, because I play the original games and don't really know them.
So, just for funsies, which one is your favorite and why?
"Anomen continued to wait at the Copper Coronet for a party of adventurers willing to travel with him. Maybe it was the grating sound of his voice, or perhaps the way he leered at women, but he continued to remain alone. Eventually, he needed to find work to make ends meet. With Gorion's Ward having disbanded the slave traders and pit fights, Hendak had to find a new form of entertainment for the patrons. As such, he invented an all male review ladies night, and Anomen found work as a 'dancer'. He left the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart to join the less noble order of the pole. He also renounced his faith to Helm and instead allied himself with Waukeen because if you wanna see some groin, you gotta have some coin."
"Despite Gorion's Ward clearing the trolls from her keep, Nalia was not able to reclaim her lands and instead lost her estate to Lord Roenall. The lord offered to let her retain residence in her family's ancestral home, but only in exchange for her hand in marriage. Nalia found the proposition to be repugnant. Instead, she salvaged whatever wealth she could from her family's keep and moved to Athkatla to start a new life. She no longer helped the less fortunate, as she was now among their numbers and had her own problems. Nalia's lack of any practical skills combined with her sense of entitlement sent her into a life of failure followed by drinking and debauchery. She now spends more time back at the Copper Coronet than anywhere else. It is hard to say where she squanders her wealth more, the alcohol, or on the dancers during Ladies Night."
"After the incident with the Planar Sphere, Valygar was finally free of his past, could retire to his cabin, and pursue his true passion: writing. Ironically, the only inspiration he found ended up stemming from his family's checkered past. Valygar's only works that even had middling success were 'Tuesdays with Lavok' and 'Dude, Where's My Planar Sphere', with the latter being made into a production at the Five Flagoons Theater."
"Haer'Dalis continued to work as a performer at the Five Flagoons Theater. Unfortunately, it struggled due to poor management. It might have turned out better if an outside agent with fresh ideas had stepped in, but Gorion's Ward had better things to do than be a bard. While the work was generally steady, the returns were not great and the material was a little low-brow for Haer'Dalis' liking. The tiefling realized he reached rock bottom when he was cast as the lead in a play about a buffoon who apparently lost a plane-shifting apparatus the size of a small castle and had to find it before his parents returned from Neverwinter. After the opening night, he took his own life in his dressing room. His body was found the next morning with a note saying, 'Art is dead and I am art, so I shall join art in death.' Biff the Understudy stepped in for Haer'Dalis despite never having an opportunity to read the script. Nevertheless, the production was a resounding success and launched Biff's career to new heights."
“A heartbroken Garrick found work as a character actor at the Five Flagoons Theater, but eventually gained more success as a writer and director. He found it to be a mostly agreeable situation, aside from a tiefling primadonna who would constantly belittle his work and call it ”trite" and “drivel”. Fortunately, that situation worked itself out in time and Garrick found Biff to be much easier to direct. With the tiefling gone, his ideas had room to grow. He invented a new kind of love story, one where the protagonist doesn't always get the girl at the end but the journey to that ending would be quite amusing. He labeled this genre “the Comedy of Romance” and the works were mostly based on his own life. His plays were quite popular among the commoners, with his top selling shows being 'Sleepless in Saradush', 'Silverymoon Linings Playbook', and 'Crazy Rich Aasimars'. He eventually fully transitioned off the stage into the director's chair. By the peak of his fame, he was married to none other than Queen Ellesime."
“Aerie continued to work at the circus and WOULD NOT SHUT UP ABOUT HER DAMN WINGS. Even Quayle eventually grew sick of hearing about it. This put strain on their relationship. Things took a turn for the better when Ribald Barterman acquired a new curiosity for his shop. It was a magical ring which he sold to Quayle at a reduced rate out of sympathy. This ”treasure" was actually a cursed Ring of Deafness, which Quayle found to be anything but a curse and wore it for the rest of his days."
“Xzar and Montaron were both slain at the hands of the Athkatla Harpers, but this is actually where their story begins. Xzar, as he had done so many times before, had a backup plan of an arcane nature should death befall either he or the halfling. Their mortal essences were pulled to a pocket plane he created. There they could be channeled into restored bodies cloned at his estate. With this particular round of ritual, Xzar had incidentally made a slight error in the incantation and the two found themselves in a time suspended state in Xzar's pocket plane. It was only five minutes for the rest of the world, but it was fifty years for them. This turned out to be a pivot point in their relationship. Having only each other's company in this shadowy void, they were finally able to work out their feelings for each other. When they had returned to the prime material plane, they discovered their mutual animosity was replaced with love. Rather than pick up their life where they left off with the Zhentarim, they decided to pack it all in, moved to Bryn Shander, and start a bed and breakfast. Montaron rediscovered his halfling roots and love for the culinary arts while Xzar would perform seances to connect guests with their late loved ones. Scones and Bones became an overnight success and was consistently listed as a “must see” in Volo's travel guides. In their golden years, the couple co-wrote a memoir of their journey, ‘Brokeback Montaron’, which is sold in bookstores everywhere."
“After briefly crossing paths with Gorion's Ward, Mazzy Fentan continued her crusade as a de facto halfling paladin. She eventually found herself petitioning for membership at the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart in Athkatla after she had singlehandedly saved a village from an ancient dracolich. Despite the extent of her virtue and accomplishment, her petition was denied on the basis that halflings could not possibly be real paladins. This inspired her next crusade, one to break down vocational barriers for all demihuman races. Why couldn't halflings be paladins or dwarves be wizards? And why did gnomes always have to be illusionists? It simply made no goddamn sense. She began to get traction with her quest when she attended lectures by the wizards of the (sword) coast in Candlekeep. With their help, she ushered Faerun into a new edition era where there would be no vocational barriers for adventurers based on their race. Soon, the world began to see roguish halflings that also venerated Helm, while tending to the wilds as a druid. Half-orc bards also studied as wizards while manifesting natural arcane abilities as sorcerers. Tiefling paladins took their crusades to the wilderness and served as rangers, while sidelining as clergy to Mystra. The world was now a liberated place, free to not make any goddamn sense in a myriad of new ways. At one point, Lady Mazzy Fentan of Trademeet (now formally a paladin) crossed paths with a dwarven shadowdancebard and in that moment she regretted everything. Seriously, just take a moment and picture that. It would look fucking ridiculous.”
“Yeslick's clanhome was flooded once again. Despondent and without options, he took work at a smithy in Baldur's Gate but never stopped dreaming of finding both a clan and a home. He found a way to bring this dream to life after a courageous halfling paladin broke down the barriers for, among other things, dwarves to be wizards. Yeslick had an idea. He studied magic diligently until he was able to cast two spells of great importance: Water Breathing and Permanence. He then searched the lands for other clanless dwarves who would be willing to try something new. With the new clan he formed, Yeslick permanently gave all his fellow clansman the ability to breath underwater. They then moved into the flooded Cloakwood Mines and built the first underwater dwarven stronghold. Using his arcane powers, Yeslick also developed the ability to speak with the marine life that shared this stronghold. And, with that, the clan Aquadwarf was born. At one point, Valygar visited and wrote a play based on Yeslick's story. However, he couldn't even get it to stage at the Five Flagoons Theater. The illustrious director Garrick was quoted as saying, “A hero that can breath underwater and talk to fish? Nobody would go for that!"
“Keldorn finally retired from the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart and looked forward to a much simpler life. He rekindled his marriage with Lady Maria and life seemed to improve. It was rather early on when the couple discovered that Maria had become pregnant again. It was also not long after that when Peony, the housekeeper, also became pregnant. Maria started to ask Keldorn about this, but Keldorn started to get defensive and asked, ”Hey, who's the Inquisitor here?" Then Keldorn started to do the math with her to track the conception of Maria's pregnancy. She certainly did not want him to get to the end of that equation, so she quickly changed the subject. She suggested getting a new maid, but Keldorn chastised her for abandoning someone in their time of need who had been like family for years. He forbade Peony's departure claiming that his god, Torm, would not stand for it. Maria then made a passive aggressive comment about Torm being the god of loyalty, but she was mostly just muttering under her breath to get the last word in. Eventually, both children were born and had probably the most awkward upbringing of anyone in Faerun."
“After Gorion's Ward helped Coran take down a wyvern, the rogue brought the beast's head back to the mayor of Beregost for the reward and accolades. He thought this put him in a position to be a hero of great renown and perhaps, just maybe, people would stop mocking him for his flashy attire and completely superfluous eye mask. They didn't. He only gained acceptance when he crossed paths with a ranger who seemed indifferent towards Coran's keen fashion sense. Coran traveled the Sword Coast with his ranger sidekick, righting the wrongs against the ‘little guy’ and taking the law into their own hands when needed. This partnership dissolved when he discovered that the ranger thought Coran was the sidekick. As if! Coran tried to correct the ranger, whose argument was, 'Really, man, if that outfit doesn't scream sidekick then I'm Elminster's twin brother.' The ranger was not related to Elminster and shared no resemblance.
“Kivan never was able to get his revenge on Tazok. Unbeknownst to him, that honor was taken by Gorion's Ward. His thirst for vengeance continued to eat away at him until he found himself in a bat infested cave in the wilderness. It was then he snapped. He turned the cave into his secret hideaway, put together a disguise and started wandering the sword coast looking for evil-doers to punish. He would leave his calling card wherever he saved the day, a token of a bat with longer ears like an elf. And bats already had rather long ears so these bat ears were almost comically obtrusive. Nevertheless, his deeds were generally appreciated and the people stared calling him Bat-elf. For a short spell, another elf tagged along with him and tried to help, but he was so flamboyantly dressed that one could pick his sidekick out of the shadows blindfolded. Kivan eventually had to send him on his way. Unfortunately, his vigilante crusade abruptly ended after receiving a cease and decist order from DC Comics. Kivan could fight both monster and marauder all day, but his 14 Constitution wouldn't hold up against a lawsuit for trademark infringement.”
“Skie was deeply affected by both the death of her brother and the assassination of her father. And yes, her father was actually murdered and didn't lol-jk back to life in some crappy DLC. In any event, through these traumas, she came to realize the puerility of what she thought was her brilliant criminal masterminding. Instead, she decided to settle down and live a more responsible life as an upstanding citizen of Baldur's Gate. She took the reins of her father's estate after his death and rose to prominence as one of the Grand Dukes of the city. She maintained her relationship with Eldoth for quite some time, inexplicably, as he refused to get a job because he didn't want to take attention from his band which he swore was going to make it. However, the bard spent most of the day either lounging at Skie’s estate or gambling away his allowance with games of three-dragon-ante at the Helm and Cloak. Eventually, inspired by the book “Men Are From Menzoberranzan, Women Are From Immilmar," she decided to call it quits with Eldoth and sent him packing. Shortly thereafter, she met a man who was nothing like Eldoth and they settled down together to start a family."
“Eldoth's dreams of being a world-famous musician fronting the greatest band in Faerun never reached fruition. This was partly because he didn't actually have a band and partly because he didn't have the talent to write music. Instead, he just had a lute he purchased at Lucky Aello's Discount Store that only had one A-string and was missing the E-string. Also, Eldoth could only play power chords and he couldn't really sing and play at the same time. Most of the time he would just strum a chord or two and then talk about what the song would do next, often describing a solo and half playing it on an ”air lute" (while he was still holding an actual lute, mind you) to give people the idea as to how the song would sound when it was finally written. Yeah, he was one of those guys. After Skie kicked him to the curb, he bounced between various barmaids who clearly had low self-esteem, but not low enough to keep him around for long. Eventually, he got one of them pregnant and was forced into a shotgun wedding by the barmaid's father. He now works in the kitchen at the same inn as his barmaid wife. She helps the customers up front and he cooks eggs in the back. Eldoth continues to tell himself that this experience will just provide inspiration for his music and that someday he was going to get the band back together."
“After being rescued by Gorion's Ward, Xan made his way to Baldur's Gate to regroup. He spent an inordinate amount of time beating himself up over his failures and trying to muster the gumption to continue his quest to unravel the political turmoil of the region. However, it took him months to get to this point, and by that time, Gorion's Ward already sorted out the problems in the region. Discovering this, he deemed himself a failure yet again and sunk into a deeper depression. He pulled himself out of it when he met a woman who lost most of her family to violent deaths during the iron crisis, yet she still kept herself together and became a local success in a few short years. Xan immediately fell in love with the recently single Skie Silvershield and began to court her. They eventually married and started a family. At Xan's insistence, and inspired by his wife's name, their two daughters were named Sunshine and Rainbow. Xan was a staunch supporter of his wife's career and stayed home to raise the kids. When they were older and needed less attending, he followed a new dream and became a motivational speaker.”
“Korgan had his revenge against his backstabbing crew and employer, but he felt...empty. It was done, but he felt no satisfaction. Disgruntled and disappointed, he decided to lose himself in his cups at the Copper Coronet. Even this did nothing to alleviate his malaise. One night, having passed out drunk in a peasant room at the Copper Coronet, he dreamt of that final fight but something was different. In the background of the battle, there was a glow coming from the door of a shack and he heard the whispering of a language that sounded like it was from Kara-Tur. When he woke the next morning, Korgan returned to the rooftop and found the shack from his dream. He knocked and was greeted by a priest of Illmater. Korgan told the priest of his dream and he was led into the backroom where he found a man from Kara-Tur infirm and huddled over a cup of tea. The priest explained that he had just reincarnated this man of the faith using a heart delivered by a passing adventurer. Korgan took this as a sign, converted to the faith, and the two paired up to help those in suffering as a result of the schemes of others. The tales of Korgan and Yoshimo were not only told in many of a tavern by the bards, but also collected in graphic serials that were popular among the children of Athkatla.”
“Ajantis' death sent him into an afterlife at Everwatch, the realm of Helm. For his honor and diligence, the devout knight was granted an audience with his patron. Ajantis then told Helm what utter bullshit the god was. I mean, c'mon, he's the god of protection, the Vigilant One, and he couldn't protect a group of knights from a dragon's cheap illusion spell that a mage even tried to dispel with True Sight? It was like Helm wasn't even trying. Helm was stunned by the confrontation but also had no valid defense. Ajantis called Helm to a trial that was mediated by Tyr. After careful deliberation, Tyr determined that Helm was sleeping on the job and the judgment was to demote him to a lesser deity. Now, Helm was the patron of guards, but not actual guards that ever see action, just the ceremonial ones whose weapons and armor are super shiny and probably not even real. Ajantis was then granted Helm's old portfolio and became a god that truly protected his followers.”
“Viconia left Athkatla's government district perplexed. She was rescued from burning at the stake by Gorion's Ward and then immediately dismissed. She found this to be unusual behavior for a male. She was accustomed to men either trying to bed her or kill her, but this casual indifference was completely new. Viconia came to be obsessed with Gorion's Ward from a distance. She spiraled into a fantasy where the two of them had a future together. It was pretty bad. There were some extremely embarrassing vision boards involved and that wasn't even the worst of it. When her mania reached critical mass, her obsession actually collapsed and she had an epiphany. She came to realize that she did not need this man, or any for that matter. She started on a journey of self discovery and took a moral inventory of her past relationships. She wrote about it in the book, “Men Are From Menzoberranzan, Women Are From Immilmar”. She then used the revenue from the book sales to open Athkatla's first feminist bookstore. In Her Words became a mecca for women, particularly those who felt trapped in bad relationships. The community that emerged here created the group, Friends of Galia, which strove to free women from abusive relationships. Eventually, the bookstore expanded to include an apartment block above that became a shelter for such women. Occasionally, the partners of these victims would come around to In Her Words in an attempt to drag their partners back home. You can probably guess how a confrontation between a drunken 0-level commoner and a Drow priestess of Shar ends."
“Faldorn was defeated by Jaheira in Trademeet and lost her title of Arch-Druid. In truth, she was relieved to be relieved of the position. Years of pushing forward the Shadow Druid agenda led Faldorn to realize that she had lost touch with the real Faldorn along the way. After some soul-searching, she reinvented herself as a lifestyle guru and developed an entire line of organic health and beauty products under the name, She-Wolf. Both her products and seminars were all the rage in Athkatla, specifically among noblewomen who clearly had too much free time. Faldorn eventually gave up her residence in natural environs for a lavish estate in Athkatla's government district. Her following soon pressured her to petition to join the Council of Six after the fall of the Cowled Wizards left the position open (aside from a short-term replacement). Her petition was a success and she soon found herself on the Council of Six. Under her leadership, she created created the FDAA, the Food and Drink Association of Athkatla. Now, instead of draconian rules governing magic in the city, equally restrictive rules and standards were applied to the food and drink that the people consumed.”
“Barely surviving being gravely wounded by Irenicus, Tiax left Spellhold for Athkatla where he intended to do what he did best: rule. Learning from his past campaign mistakes in Baldur's Gate, he changed his slogan from ”Tiax Rules!" to “Make Athkatla Great Again”. Of course, what he thought would make Athkatla great was putting himself in charge as a despotic leader. But, he toned down that aspect of his platform and instead focused on the history of scheming and backroom dealing of the Cowled Wizards (as if he was any less evil or scheming) and promised the people he would be different than all the other corrupt politicians. Miraculously, despite his obviously apparent character flaws, he succeeded in replacing the Cowled Wizards' representative on the Council of Six. He decided to take their stance on restrictive magic to the next level and banned magic entirely. Since he didn't study the arcane himself, it was no skin of his nose. This move undermined his support base leaving him with only the most backwards and ignorant followers. He was ultimately removed from his position when he insisted the city build a wall around the planar sphere and was expecting that the city's wizards would be the ones to pay for it. After his removal, his few remaining extreme supporters organized an invasion of the main government building under the guise of freedom of assembly. All nine of these “rebels” were rounded up, tried, and sent to prison. Tiax was convicted of treason and reincarnated in Spellhold, which was now just a common prison. After his eventual release, he was prohibited from seeking any position of power in Amn."
"Edwin Odesseiron continued to lay low with the Shadow Thieves for a while. The Cowled Wizards suffered a crippling blow as a side effect of the conflict between Gorion's Ward and Irenicus. Edwin decided to step in and finish the job. His thought was that he could wipe out the Cowled Wizard remnants and then take credit for their defeat, thereby gaining him more clout among the Red Wizards of Thay. After many conspicuous mage battles in the streets of Athkatla, he succeeded. However, the people who noticed his efforts the most were actually the people of Athkatla. They were tired of living under the Cowled Wizards' iron fist and Edwin was lauded as a liberator and hero. He even had a statue in his image raised in Waukeen's Promenade. Edwin was initially nonplussed over people finally giving him the credit he always felt he so rightfully deserved. But, he quickly came to accept their praise and bought in to being a champion for the people. Edwin continued his agenda of liberation when a clearly insane gnome who found his way on the Council of Six tried to ban magic entirely in the city. Edwin and his followers were primarily responsible for having the madman removed from his seat.
“Shar-Teel, Safana, Branwen, and Alora all happened to cross paths with each other at Elfsong one evening. Shar-Teel was looking to fight a man, Safana was looking to shag a man, Branwen was recently petrified by a man, and Alora was just excited to be somewhere new. The four got to talking with each other and, despite having wildly different personalities, seemed to hit it off. Shar-Teel was sarcastic and aggressive, Safana was self-absorbed and man-hungry, Alora was kind and sweet, and Branwen was the matriarch of the group. You wouldn't think this lot would get along, but they actually did, and their differences merely become the fuel for innocuous hi-jinks week after week.”
"With Gorion's Ward's help, Cernd was able to rescue his child that he then abandoned again at the druid grove near Trademeet. He promised that he would return to raise the child, he just needed to run to the general shop in Trademeet for some pipeweed. He never returned, but that was pretty obvious since he didn’t even smoke. Cernd continued to wander Faerun. It came to light in Cormyr that Cernd had actually married, and had children, with numerous women in Cormyr, Amn, the Sword Coast, Tethyr, Calimshan, Turmish, Halruaa, Icewind Dale, Chondath, Sembia, Impiltur, the Silver Marches, and even the Troll Hills (don't ask). Furthermore, it was discovered that Cernd was not actually a druid, just a werewolf that had a Ring of Goodberries. The druid con was so that he could have a reason to abandon his wives and children and move on to a new situation. You would be surprised at how many women could fall for a guy that can conjure an impromptu picnic in the park. Unfortunately for Cernd, Cormyr was not the kind of place to run afoul of the legal system. For the crime of bigamy, he was sentenced to life in prison. He never set foot near a druid grove again, but he was allowed to participate in a work-release program tending to the gardens of nobles.
“Kagain returned to his shop and grew even more bitter, but not over what the death of Entar Silvershield's son had done to his reputation and business. Instead, he resented that even the Enhanced Edition of the game didn't give him a remotely decent companion quest. By Moradin's hammer, Cernd even had a pretty involved companion quest and the story there both starts and ends with a deadbeat dad! Also, Kagain can regenerate! Korgan can't even do that. And another thing! He was sick of people confusing the two of them as if all dwarves look alike or something. Ok, granted, they're both old dwarves with greying beards, but Korgan's beard is tied while Kagain's beard is brushed out. Of course, none of this made sense to anyone, even to Kagain who never actually crossed paths with Cernd or Korgan. However, the dwarf had nothing to do with his time except stand in his shop, isolated and alone, until he was done in by insanity and plantar fasciitis.”
“The death of Khalid shook Jaheira to the core. She convinced herself that she could never love again, certainly not so soon after his death nor with anyone that would be a child in her eyes. That would be absurd and rather tacky. After her escape from Irenicus' prison and deposing Faldorn from the druid grove, she took over as Arch-Druid. Being a Harper just wouldn't be the same without Khalid. However, the grove would allow her to explore a new, but comfortingly familiar, phase of life. She had barely been installed as the Arch-Druid when Cernd dropped off his child and disappeared again. He did not even stay long enough to tell Jaheira the child's name. Knowing he would likely not return, she named the child Khalid after her lost love. Realizing there were other children our there without families to care for them, Jahaeira would send her subordinates to wander nearby lands and bring them to the grove for a better life. Perhaps not surprisingly, many of these children happened to be Cernd's. She eventually renamed the grove to Kinder Garden in honor of the grove's new purpose of giving these children a kinder upbringing. Jaheira's headstrong personality served her well with these lost children, who all loved her as they would any mother. The Kinder Garden became the most thriving druid grove in all of Faerun. Jaheira eventually died in 1547 DR, with hundreds of children haven been rescued in her lifetime, and a memorial was erected in her honor at the grove. The inscription read, 'Nature's Servant Awaits.'"
“After being freed from Irenicus' dungeon, Minsc put his boots on the ground at the Copper Coronet. Being the simple man that he was, he found himself unwittingly recruited into fighting in the gladiator pits (before Gorion's Ward was able to free the slaves). Yet again, Minsc took a blow to the head. But this time, its effects were something completely new. No longer was he the slow-witted evil-slaying ranger, armed to the teeth and packing a hamster. Instead, his intelligence and wisdom started to blossom and he explored, through dissertation, the impact of modern civilization on the overall ecosystem of Faerun. Indeed, before Minsc started his work, the people of Faerun didn't even have the concept of an ”ecosystem". He left Athkatla to pursue a residency at Jaheira's grove where he could study and work in peace. He published works like, “The Intersection of Geopolitics and Biodiversity: Living More but Dying Sooner”, “The Essential Symbiosis Between the Savage and Civilization”, and “Moral Urbanization: Seeking a More Comprehensive Prosperity”. Minsc continued his studies and writing and ultimately produced enough groundbreaking works to have his own annex in Candlekeep. It was shortly after the dedication of this annex that Minsc disappeared from Faerun, never to be seen again."
“Jan Jansen's fate was the most impressive of all as his endeavors shaped the very fabric of Faerun for centuries to come. His story truly serves as a moral lesson for everyone and we should heed its virtue quite seriously. Helping Lissa and Jaella planted a seed of regret in Lissa with regards to her marriage to Vaelag. Speaking of seeds, this reminds Jan of a time when he was helping his Uncle Scratchy with his turnip farm. However, Uncle Scratchy was hoodwinked and the seeds he received were actually purple carrot seeds. You can imagine Uncle Scratchy's surprise when they sprouted and he suddenly had a field of purple carrots. Well, as you probably know, you can't make turnip stew, or turnip casserole, or turnip pie with purple carrots. But it just so happened there was a mage tower nearby and the resident mage needed a vast number of carrots. Apparently, her plan was to animate them as a kind of vegetable army to combat a myconid infestation in cave system rather close to her tower. Of course, animated carrots are quite self-assured and were immune to myconoid's confusion spores. Anyway, Jan had a once-removed cousin, Bobil, that was lost in those caves when he was a young gnome. He had wandered so deep that he found himself in the den of a solitary xvart who was obsessed with a magic ring. Bobil happened to purloin that ring but it turned out to not be magic at all. However, it was still worth enough for Bobil to buy himself a nice cottage in Trademeet. He then started his own turnip farm and had better luck than Uncle Scratchy. Wait, what were we talking about, again?”
“Boo continued his mission to study the sentient life forms of Faerun and determine their potential impact on the metaverse. He preferred the continued company of Minsc due to the ranger's kindness and protectiveness. Boo found this to be quite valuable in his current miniaturized state. Even after Minsc's accident, where his intellect began to expand, Minsc never lost his good heart and inherent kindness and the two remained the best of friends. It was a number of years later that the term of Boo's mission was complete. A team of his fellow people arrived on a spelljammer to collect the giant miniaturized space hamster. Minsc (and Boo) were on a retreat in a remote part of the Neverwinter Wood when a vessel shaped like a giant acorn landed in a nearby clearing. A number of human-sized anthropomorphic hamster-like beings, who called themselves the Ysoki, emerged and met with Boo. One had a strange crystalline device which it used to restore Boo to his proper size. Minsc naturally remained composed while all this was happening. He and Boo talked often and he knew this day would be coming. Boo returned to the spelljammer with his brethren to debrief on the mission. The Ysoki wanted to bring a sample back to their homeworld for further learning and study. Boo offered Minsc for the task, as the exemplar human would fit in nicely with the Ysoki's advanced culture and society. Everyone was in agreement and made the offer to the ranger. Minsc felt like he had made every contribution he could to the people of Faerun, so he accepted and boarded the ship. Boo, excited to finally be on a spelljammer again, took the helm and plotted a course for his homeworld. At his side sat his friend and faithful companion, Minsc.”

Blachowicz here.
Kept yah’ waiting, huh? Heh, sorry about that one, but I can explain. As we all know… we lost a few good men the last few months.
That’s the brutal part of a hybrid war like ours: We’re fighting a foe unconventional, with half our arsenal tied down because those who grant us authorization are either in disbelief of the true facts, or scared… or already assimilated. That being said our momentum recently was a change not seen in years, and because of that… despite the losses we have garnered, we were close through a breakthrough. One last night Krol pulls myself and other two must trusted squad leads into the back of our COP. There is one of our equipment cages, surrounded by m-bitter radios, tripods, and several hundred thousand dollars of equipment he brought us around a simple worn table. Before us he laid a map of eastern poland… red markings indicating cells that seemed to dot the countryside like a pestilence, or used to… as deep gashes of advance from raids had trisected their lines, even if ones did pop up in the interior.
It was a back and forth; an outside virus infecting Polska at it’s heart, and we were the antibodies sent to drive them out. To which… Major Krol points to one of the largest symbol on the map: a dark red diamond, the NATO symbol for an enemy unit, deep inside of an untouched wooded area, adjacent to a mountain ridge. Several jagged lines indicated entrenchment, with red horizontal lines indicating possible enemy control… or our contested control, for over 20kms surrounding it. Letting us all look, the Major lit himself a cigarette.
“Sir, you sure it’s wise to smoke in here with the dive tanks just behind us” 1st Squad’s lead quipped. “Fuck off” Krol dryly said.
“Alright… this is it… this is the one we’ve been searching for for years, this is the nucleus my predecessor commander died trying to find” he says, pointing to it. Not far from Zamosc, it was almost touching the border with Belarus, the contested area indicating the Strigoi did operate over it… indicating one of the largest spill through points. “-It’s an old soviet bunker, made during their 1960s initiative it was designed to hold the munitions and manpower of several units in the event of a NATO first strike” Krol explained. “It’s gotta be massive then…” I said gazing at the map; “Didn’t the army demolish all of the old soviet hulks near Belarus to prevent any infiltrations?” 3rd Squad’s lead asked. “National Police took the effort over… and by extension, the Strigoi. It was halfway demo’ed before they burrowed into it and have been using it as a bridgehead ever since. This is it…” Krol said. He looked around at all of us, a sense of certainty I had never seen before as he blew smoke from his nostrils; “We’ve been fucking around in the dark for so long, it’s hard to believe we’ve made any progress, but this is it. With this gone, this will set them back over a decade and the momentum will finally shift into our favor… into Poland’s… -Europe’s”.
I swear there was almost a flash of joy, of pride in his eyes and a phantom of a smirk before reality set back in “That being said… we can’t leave this to chance, especially not something as important as this. We’re going to have to go there ourselves… clear through every inch of that place, and tear it all down, piece by piece. I will be straight with you all… when we go, there will be some of us that aren’t coming back. -but we are going… a whole generation is counting on us, and unborn billions rely on us to succeed”. We all nodded, a silent agreement washing over us as we took this upon ourselves. Echo-1 spoke up: “So… They’re authorizing a raid? How big?”. “We’re rolling in as a hard target, armor, explosives, and air support” Krol answered, taking a drag off his cigarette. “Aviation? How the hell did we get that approved, we’ve gotten attempts shot down four times due to those leeches” I said in disbelief. “There’s too much evidence here pointing to the human trafficking tied to their actions… We’ve finally got too much weight pinning them down, to keep the hammer from slamming into their necks” Krol chuckled. He looked around “Any questions?”. “When?” Echo-3 asked. “Three hours. We’re hitting them in the dead of night, only time we could get the birds authorized. Get your boys ready. We’re rolling out” Krol said, dying the cigarette bud out on the table. I can’t begin to tell you the euphoria we felt leaving that cage, as our men started arriving, they did so a lot quicker, and with their heads a lot higher than they had in weeks. As Second Squad’s lead we were going to be one of the main arms of attack into the bunker, thus I made sure we had a breacher loaded with enough thermite, charges, and tools to cut through anything. Our shield bearer we ready to go, as was our assaulters, grenadiers, and machine gunner. I double checked each and everyone of their weapons; ensuring the feeder paws of our squad’s belt fed were intact, making sure every breach charge we had was properly set and packed. There was going to be no mistakes, no slip ups. The margin of error needed to be the smallest it had ever been for us tonight if we were going to make the gore spilt worth it.
Finally… there on the outside of the building, the bright LED lights kept the darkness of the ensuing night at bay as the roar of our MRAPs could be heard. It was said once that war is 99% peace, and 1% chaos, they were right. The slow periods where the blood slowed and the doubt creeped in was the worst… yet we all kept it at bay. We needed to, there was going to be no backing down tonight. All three squads were up, all of us ready to go… we circled up… short stares and shaky nods telling us one things: We were in this together, till the end… the finish line so many before us had been searching for, we were being granted tonight.
A single set of footsteps could be heard as we turned, Major Krol stepping into the center. He took the last drag of a cigarette, throwing it down to the ground and stamping it out onto the damp concrete. He looked around… his chin strap blowing in the weak air as he met everyone of our gazes… then mine… then looked around. “I want you to remember every detail of tonight, as you have every other night… when you are situationally aware, scanning for the enemy, liberating the subjugated, I want you to remember the sting of anxiety, the shake of adrenaline, the chill of the bunker, the heat of your weapon as it cuts them down… because tonight we are going to write every fine detail of our victory, their defeat, in history…” Krol’s words echoed deep into our souls. He paused for a moment, staring around he looked down… a small pause before he said “When you are ruthless in combat, remember to be patient, and reserved in victory. This conflict is for our existence… a lot of innocents have bled due to the mistakes of those who failed to listen, a lot of our brothers are now laid under because we had to bridge the gap of uncertainty with their lives. We remember them now… but in an hour? We forget them… when we raise our barrels, when we cut into those foes, and we liberate Polska!! This does not end tonight, but history puts everything in it’s place, and patience is the companion of the victor… All of our hard work will be cemented, no matter the obstacles we face in that darkness… no matter the demons, the blood, no matter what incomprehensible horrors, we will make them comprehend that to invade our land, to bleed our people, the justice will be paid in full… Load up. It’s time*”*.
The purpose in our steps was heavy as we climbed the back ramps of the MRAPS; Four of the heavily armored vehicles, one for each squad with an additional for attached personnel including our JTAC, the term means Joint Terminal Attack Controllers. With air support requisitioned to us for this operations, there needs to be a definite liaison on the ground who can directly communicate to the birds, and coordinate their fire and progress. I’d worked with many of them in the past, resourceful guys, quick thinking though I guess that comes with the position they hold of needing to quickly figure out what bombs to drop, on which target, at what precise points, whilst taking contact. He loaded in the lead vehicle with Major Krol… and soon, our convoy kicked off.
The drive was several hours as myself and my squad sat in the back of that forty ton goliath, the rumbling of the engine keeping us awake as the crap heater fought to keep the cold from the outside frost from setting in. I looked around to each of them, some were catching some sleep because even with the circumstances… better to get all the energy you can, than to stay awake for nothing. Others were checking their weapons… My gunner locked eyes with me, the same one from the village extraction… many of these men I had trained with for a while now, fought with for months.
We may have met on unconventional circumstances but those in JW Grom thrive on austere chance and create opportunity from scratch. I was pulled from my thought by the sound of a transmission, my peltors were set up for dual comms so I could both receive information from the Major and other leads, whilst communicating with my team.
Krol himself sent out: [“Approximately 10 minutes from enemy AO…”]. As the rest of the squads acknowledged, I quickly sent out [“Echo-2 Copies”], before kicking the boots of any of them sleeping: “Look alive, we’re here”. Through the exterior net armor of the MRAPS, and the bars protecting the small reinforced windows, we could barely see jack shit. I reached up, turning off the overhead light as we all looked through our nods to scan the outside. A dark wall of dense trees was shown before us, making it difficult to see… in addition to night vision capabilities we had also requisitioned ourselves some thermals… when mounted onto rifles they were bulky, made it a pain to aim down quickly, but considering the supernatural capabilities of spotting our foes we needed every advantage necessary.
I flipped out one of my tubes… scanning the outside with my scope. I looked over to one of my assaulters who had been assigned to man the turret of the MRAP, seated near the view screen as he controlled the 50. Cal. Each of the vehicle turrets had been assigned a direction to cover… we took the 9 o’clock, the left flank. “See anything?” I asked. He shook his head; “Negative… wait… I’ve got two cold signatures, front left heading to our rear”.
I quickly scanned the far tree line, at approximately 60 meters off our left were two cold signatures… followed by a third heading to our front… then another. They were surrounding us, moving at speeds so fast I could barely keep my reticle on them. Is this what the National Police saw? What they faced at that lodge without the benefit of a foot of heavy armor protecting them on all sides. Then… suddenly. Something slammed into the side of our MRAP so hard, it caused it to shake. From over the leader comms, Echo-3 quickly shouted [“Contact right!! 4 hostiles!!”].
One of the Strigoi… so bold, had charged and slammed into the side of our MRAP. I quickly looked to see the figure, a dark blue mass of cold energy through my thermal, back away without so much as a stagger… as they tried to flee into the woods, the white hot justice of Echo-3’s gun fired at them, cutting them down. “Blachowicz I’ve got a few breaking for our vic” my man on the turret called out, I spun around, spotting out the window.
Just then, Major Krol announced [“weapons free, watch and shoot for targets of opportunity…”]. I turned to him… “take those fuckers out-”. Without hesitation my vic’s turret began to quickly target them, and through the darkness I saw a stream of outgoing fire bisect one of them, the ISR of the black blood freaking out the optic so badly it didn’t know what temperature to register it as… but it did register it. As another was cut down, one broke through the tree line and latched onto the side of our MRAP. The thing tore at one of the outer net armor panels, usually made to stop RPGs. It grabbed at the bars near the windows, tearing one off… I lowered my rifle as we locked eyes through the reinforced window.
The thing… the Strigoi looked at me, skin cracked as putrefied muscle fibers seemed to leak through dead flesh. It’s teeth were corroded and worn down to sharp fragments, alongside newly mutated fangs that messily protrude from the jaws. Even through the thick walls of the MRAP I could hear it’s roar, as it then tried to punch it’s way through… it cracked the outer coating of the vehicle… but it wasn’t getting anywhere near. My machine gunner, seated next to me, seemed to chuckle at the sight, quippily saying “Yeah… fuck you too”. It’s then our vehicle lurched upwards, as we began to climb the small incline of the bunker. I knew the layout, mapped it in our head, the main entrance was built into the rocky side of an old cliff meaning we could easily set up a defensive perimeter around it, a horseshoe. Krol’s vehicle was first, taking to the right as Echo-3’s MRAP followed. My vehicle, third, left the incline and took a left and… that’s where things got complicated.
We’re still trying to work out what happened but… from what Joakim says his drone captured. Right when the MRAP turned, several of the monsters quickly slammed into the side of the vehicle, as another more bulkier one, pushed at it’s undercarriage. The result.. Was the 40 ton armored vehicle tipped over. It wasn’t uncommon, hell in some cases a well placed IED, a good shot with a recoilless rifle, have been known to tip over Oshkoshs and Maxpros all the time. But this beast? Needless to say we barely had a second to comprehend it as it leaned to the left; “Grab on to something-” is all I had time to shout. A mess of gear and men spilled onto one side of the vehicle as it slammed into the old gravel and dirt.
Several of my assaulters, my grenadier planted right ontop of myself and the others as we came to a stop. Someone’s knee slammed directly into the side of my skull, causing me to dazily bob in and out of consciousness as my face was smushed against the glass of one of the windows.
Through my peltors, the other squads were erratic;
[“Echo-2’s vehicle is down!!”].
[“Echo-3 to Echo-2… Echo-3 to Echo-2…”].
Krol’s voice came through the comms;
[“Echo-Lead to Echo-2… Fuc-... Echo-1 secure Echo 2’s flank, Echo-3”].
[“Echo-3 to other units, they’re spilling through, I’ve got several enemy combatants converging on Echo-2’s vehicle”].
I pushed the legs of my grenadier off my head as I fought to my hands and knees, unfucking my nods as I looked around… “Fuck it… we’re going lights on, shield your eyes” I muttered as I reached for the overhead lights and flipped them on. The bright LEDs bathed the inside of the vehicle as we all gained our bearings, a mess of multicam, gear, and weapons as we quickly pushed each other off. My gunner caught as he fought to realign his promask, from what I gathered one of the assaulters had landed directly into his gun, pushing it directly into his jugular, as pulled back at the rubber and coughed, freeing up his esophagus. We didn’t have time to think however… the sound of bending metal caught our attention… as the back ramp door of the MRAP was ripped clean off. I could barely believe it but as the white light of the MRAP’s interior poured to the outside, a hulking mass leaned in, the dead flesh on it’s face nearly fallen off as the hideous Strigoi leaned inside.
Without hesitation I aimed took aim, yelling “Keep to the deck!!” to any of those inbetween myself and the invader as I opened fire. A burst of full auto fire tore through it’s collar and neck, my men quickly clung to either sides of the fallen MRAP as a few more fired out. As the thing backed up, a blast of .50 cal fire quickly tore it to shreds, along with several others as I realized they were fuckin swarming over the outside of our vehicle. Echo-3’s vehicle continued to carefully fire on the Strigoi on the outside, the sounds of .50 cal ricocheting off the outside of our armor was enough to make the pucker factor set in.
[“Echo-3 to Echo-2”].
[“This is Echo-2, we’re green on ammo, equipment, men”].
[“Roger, we’re shifting fire, exit the vehicle”].
“Hurry up let’s go!!” I barked to my men, leading the way as I staggered out. I turned on my peq, taking aim at silhouettes in the brush as I began to fire. The sounds of machine guns lighting up the brush, as a sea of growls, howls, and incomprehensible roars fired back at us was the ambient noise of the night. My men quickly exited, my gunner being the last as he and I pulled back to the rest of the defensive perimeter. I set in my men to take up the frontal security, as 3rd squad took the right flank, 1st squad to the left. Major Krol and the JTAC were bickering with each other; “How far out are the birds”. “They’re entering airspace now…” Joakim said, already scanning his smart book.
I asked “What’ve we got?”. He then flipped through… to the NATO combined arms segment, quippily saying; “Apaches…”. This caused me to pause as Echo-3 turned their head whilst directing their squad’s fire “The hell… where did we get apaches from?”. “The Americans… they volunteered” Krol said dismissively as he took aim at the darkness, firing off a controlled trio. “Volunteered? They’re aware of what’s going on?” I asked.
Krol seemed to stop, glancing back at me before returning his focus “There’s a lot more going on than you realize, Blachowicz… Prep the breach, you and 1st are going on”.
I quickly pulled my breacher off the line, securing some thermite as the reinforced bunker door wasn’t going to go as easily as a conventional door breach would. 1st Squad pulled back, stacking up and preparing themselves to be the first in. All the while… Joakim gave his firing solution; “Alpha Hotel Two Five Nine, This is Bravo-4…… Type 2….”.
I snapped to my right, watching as a Strigoi managed to dark across the clear gravel field, only to be cut down by my gunner, the peq’s laser marking the burst as it tore through the beasts’ hips, as it hit the ground and still continued to claw, another GROM operator took aim and fired into it’s skull. Joakim popped up to his feet…. “Marking laser, high power…”. He then pulled out a target marking laser… if you’ve watched night operations, you’ve probably seen them.
The green laser than as it says on the label, marks targets. The pattern of which can vary… if it’s a point target, it’ll usually lasso an area, or remain on target until the target is removed with extreme prejudice. If its close air support, then it’ll be a line of the general area… and Joakim damn near marked the entire perimeter around us. He quickly pocketed the tool, turning back to Krol; “Don’t go past 20 meters unless you want to be liquidated”.
With that… 2nd and 1st stacked up at the door as 3rd squad took up the perimeter security. As Major Krol went over to Echo-1… I saw them. A single blinking IR strobe from the beasts as they moved on the far off horizon, converging from several angles… and fired. The sound of the Apache’s main gun, the M230, truly sounds like the hammer of god… the 30mm cannon shot through the dark sky, lighting it up as we saw three incoming streams tear up the woods. Only then as the sound broke did we start to hear their rotors as they broke and began to circle, firing again… then… Joakim dipped his head and looked to Krol; [“Foxtrot Mike, hang onto your teeth…”]. One of the Apaches fired off a AGM-114… a Hellfire. I barely saw it out of the corner of my eye as the Apache from our right flank fired off at a target approximately 200 meters off. A fireball lit up the forest as the horrendous roar echoed throughout… then went silent.
Echo-3 scanned the horizon carefully;
[“Echo-3 to Echo-Lead, enemy contact is starting to die down”].
[“Maintain perimeter, Close Air is to maintain fire mission until we are boots up, Break…”].
[“Echo-Lead to Echo-1, condition white has been met. Proceeds”]. I saw Echo-1 and his men quickly stack up close to the wall and gesture to me; Breaching. I quickly pulled my stack back against the wall as his and mine breacher quickly hit their actuators. Now under normal circumstances, it doesn’t take much for thermite to melt the locks off of a metal surface, in fact it’s a more precise took as alternative means get real medieval like saws, pry bars… we weren’t in the mood for precision, we need to breach their little lair, and drag them out. The sound of several pounds of hellfire burning through the metal could be heard around the corner as a sea of white and red sparks flew out… after several seconds, two of our men tossed a fragmentation grenade and a nine-bang through the opening… a series of concussive blasts and a large explosion rang out.
Echo-1 and his men maneuvered. 1st Squad quickly converged as we followed them in.
Stepping through the black wall of smoke, the dark abyss of the interior was illuminated in a white light as entered barrels raised. Shots rang out as several of the beasts near the entrance were cut down, though not immediately, rounds disconnected the shoulder of one of them, leading to their arm hanging limply by a single tendon as they roared… another series of rounds putting them down. What greeted us was a messy concrete hell of rust and debris, fecal matter, trash, and all kinds of obstacles laid in our way, our boots sticking to the floor. I thank every god we had promasks that night. I called my shield bearer up, 2nd squad leapfrogging ahead to take the next corridor as 1st squad checked their weapons.
One of my men mule kicked the metal door ahead, twice, finally the latch gave away as we tossed in a grenade. A horrifying roar was cut off as an M67 shook the walls of the ancient soviet mausoleum, frag and spall kicked off the walls as I moved in right behind my shield man. The cramped russian design meant there was barely enough space for three people, and that’s three normal people, not in 50kgs of kit, moving slowly and maneuvering against creatures of the dark. Still… we moved forward, my shield bearer and I pushing the pace as two stacked of either squad formed on either wall.
As we passed doorways they flowed in… “Door Left!!”, “Door Right!!”. “Move!!”.
Two men entered each side, no gunshots, we moved up, a roar came.
“Door left!!-”. A series of gunshots came out as we continued to push forward.
“Two down!!”. “Confirm them” Krol commanded, as a series of gunshots run out in response. From one of the doorways, a Strigoi emerged… a female… clumps of hair had been ripped from her decaying skull, as her blooded eyes locked on myself and my shieldman. The skin on her hands had been tore down to the point where barely her bones and tendons remain… looking like huge talons as she roared and lunged at us. He fired off his pistol, though the rounds did little to stop her as she pushed against our stack.
“Fuck!!” he muttered, somehow her strength caused him to stagnate, holding up the advance… fuck that. I shoved the muzzle of my MK18 into her ribcage, flipping the weapon to auto as I fired of round after round. The 5.56 salvo disconnecting her spinal column, causing her to fall as I continued to fire, along with a man to our right and left as the stacks reformed as we pushed to the end of the hall. I fell back, dropping the magazine and loading a fresh one, like clockwork a GROM Operator from 1st squad took my place. Krol was beside me as we approached the end of the hall.
[“-Prep an entry”] I radioed to my breacher, a comrade handed him one of the charges from his back panel as he took to the door, quickly securing it. We all moved as far back as we could, look away, exhale. The blast knocked metal and wood in all directions, scrapping against our uniforms and kit as we made our way in and what laid before us was… it used to be the center atrium of one of these bunkers. Soviet’s loved their grandiose designs, the complex was supposed to be a circular room around a central planning table… instead. It had been turned into some sort of church. Runes and old eastern Romuva pagan symbols written in black ink and blood across the walls, old rotten filing cabinets, long receipt terminals. In the center… several of the Strigoi were kneeling before the table where someone had been tied down, flayed, and… shared amongst the group. They rose to their feet, we aimed our barrels…
The ladder amongst turned to us… his skin wasn’t cracked, or flayed, it was smooth… it still looked dead as the body on the table but it seemed more… accustomed to it. I don’t know… evolved? Under the surface however I could see it’s darkened veins pumping whatever cursed blood ran through them as it locked two blood red eyes onto each of us. It’s nose had long since been turn off, exposing boney nostrils to the open air as it seemed to smirk. All across it’s body were the same symbols on the walls, in every cell… markings of death, of rebirth, of assimilation… From behind this seemingly Alpha emerges another figure I had never seemed before… dressed in a white cloak with a deer head.
"So they've followed the trail... they're too late" the Deer headed individual spoke, definitely not from here, a dialect similar to an Americans but... aristocratic? Each word was drawn out, assurance as if they had everything mapped down to our actions. They didn’t sound like they were from Poland or the east.
“Doesn’t matter…” the Alpha growled… and then, it lunged at us. Quickly breaking from their ground it slammed into my shield man knocking both him and myself at the ground as it displayed an intense feat of strength. Around us I could see several of the Strigoi leap at our comrades… though to no fruitful endeavor as I could see one GROM operator cut two down, as another got into a hand to hand confrontation… my breacher, crafty as they were, reached back and slammed one of the prybars of his kit into the skull of the beast.
The Alpha however was not content as it threw away the 90lb shield, sending it flying across the room as it grabbed my comrade by the skull. I quickly kicked up at it, firing my MK18 into it’s body as the rounds pierced it’s gray and rune covered flesh. The thing simply seemed to chuckle… that was until Major Krol blasted away at the side of it’s head, the alpha turned… and it’s smirk turned to a scowl when face to face with the major. A knowing pause almost like they had done this dance before…
The creature lunged, locking up with Major Krol as it swung and slammed railing. Krol didn’t back down however as he pushed against the creature, hiptossing it to the ground even as it tore at his armor and gear. But the beast pulled, both of them rolled and the Major was on his back as the thing reached for his neck. I fought to a kneel, firing into the creature messily with my MK18, trying not to hit my commander… then…
Click. A sound sends a chill up the spine of every warfighter during a firefight.
My gun ran dry. I dropped the magazine, looking to load another, but the thing came up and with one of it’s claws, sliced deep into my cheek, through the pro mask. I could feel my own blood go flying through the air as I landed hard on my back plate, spitting out red iron as I quickly tried to adjust my mask. Through my fogged up, blood covered lense… I saw my shield man raise his pistol, firing into the skull of the thing staggering it with a roar. Krol came from behind, drawing his knife he sunk it deep into the neck of it…. I reached for my rifle, forcing a new magazine in and damn near punching the bold release. ““Sir, down!!” I shouted, Krol rolled away, back to his own rifle as I fired. So did my comrade as he continued to fire his pistol… so did the Major as he fired his rifle. All of us chewing through that apex predator of darkness, that beast… the leader that had been preying on our people for so long. Layer by layer, muscle group by bone… eventually… the alpha landed on whatever was left of his back.
The silence of the fight died down as all of us checked our surroundings, GROM Operators putting controlled pairs in the heads and nerve stems of any Strigoi laying around… I flicked my weapon onto safe, letting it hang as I pulled off my mask. I dared not touch the wound on my face… the pain nearly crippling me if it wasn’t sheer will pushing me through, and adrenaline doing all it could to subdue it. The sound of the apaches continuing to lay hate drew us from our moment of contemplation as the Major went back to work; [“Confiscate any info, burn the rest…”]. He turned back to me as I shoved my damaged M50 mask back into it’s bag, chuckling as he looked at the sight; “You need a medevac, Blachowicz?” he quipped.
I shook my head, barely able to speak as I muttered; “Negative sir…”. The two of us scanned the room as my shield bearer went to collect his defense implement turned 90lb projectile, we scanned the center of the room, checking and confirming bodies, until we got to the last one alive. His white gown was soaked in red crimson and black ooze, as his dear head was mangled from bullet fire and impact from falling on it. I swear… the way his blood poured out of it though made me wonder if it was a mask. I gave it no second thoughts as he looked to Krol; “You… you can’t stop this, they’ve already-”.
The Major was in no mood for communication as his rifle snapped up and fired off three rounds to the body, four the head. The violent yet quick salvo ending the cultists life, I looked down at it, then to him as he remarked; “Have your squad drag him out to the front, burn the rest”. I stood alongside him, looking down as the sight of it’s deer head was both captivating and horrifying… the curiosity in me wanting to look closer at it fighting the primal instinct I had to burn the thing to ash. “-Haven’t seen one of those before…” I muttered, thinking the Major had an answer.
He didn’t. Krol saying “Neither have I…” shortly before he walked away, was what truly shook my soul about that entire night. Victory stood firm in our hearts that night as we stood outside of the bunker. The night sky burning with fire and white phosphorus as we watched the ruin burn from the inside from the other side of the lot. In the distance, the Apaches continued to scan and circle the forests, no longer firing…. Which meant they had driven any or turned to glass any enemy combatants within a four miles, probably both, more than likely the latter. Echo-1 patted me on the shoulder as we stood there, soaking it all in, though Krol looked none to pleased. “In the time it took us to take this one down, they’ll be trying to set up three more cells… that being established…” he said, looking to either of us, then to Echo-3. “-Hell of a thing we did tonight, been waiting for this one for a decade, cleanly, maybe more… but no time to rest on our laurels… we’ll have another task for us as soon as we’re boots down back home” he said, to which his eyes followed mine, the body of whatever cultist that was zipped up in a black body bag beside the wheel of one of the MRAPs. The fire from the bunker casting an orange hue over it’s shiny jet black outside, something didn’t sit right with me… “That wasn’t a Strigoi…” I said to Krol.
“That’s very clear…” the Major said, shoving his mask under his arm and lighting a cigarette. “So… someone’s helping them?” I asked. The meer notion of it shook me to my core, sickened me. This parasite was already badly infecting Europa, Polska… if it was spread like this throughout the world. Krol settled my nerves: “We’ll be ready… It’s not just us anymore”. As he said that, I realized what he meant… my eyes looking to the Apaches as they started to form up, leaving the areas as their thunderous propellers melted into the night’s calm, unnerving ambience.
It’s been a couple of weeks since then, Echo Detachment has been busy. We’ve gained good ground against the enemy and honestly I think in a few years, we might see a much larger change. For now… we must keep going, that being said the Strigoi aren’t the only ones we’ve been combating. Recently we’ve made contact with of some sort of extermination coalition, they’ve known about the Strigoi, and others plaguing the world, the level of corruption and corrosion on society goes deep. Regardless a lot of the units we’ve been working with are apart of NATO, such as this “4th Special Forces Group” of the American Military. I don’t know where the road from here leads, but we’ve gotten momentum on our side, finally. Just remember… these things are out there, in every town, every city, every nation… preying and waiting for you to be alone, vulnerable, so they can take you and replace you.
Watch your back, and stay safe.
For now, Blachowicz signing out. Until next time

In case you don't know, the Sun Princess is Princess Cruises' latest behemoth ship. I just got back from a 2-week sailing and took meticulous notes on this epic new vessel. Here's my extremely detailed, no-BS review:

The Sheer Size is Nuts

When I say this ship is massive, I mean it's absolutely nuts how big this floating city is. Especially when you get off in ports and have to walk back down the dock to reboard - that's when the sheer scale of the Sun Princess really hits you. Even though it carries a ton of people, the only time it really felt crowded was during breakfast. The Eatery fills up quick and the International Cafe, which sits outside The Eatery doesn't lend itself well for crowds of people wiaint for their coffees. You kind of end up waiting in the middle of where the walking traffic moves.

The Medallion Life

Your entire cruise experience revolves around the new Medallion wearable device and app, for better or worse. I'll admit it has some creepy "Big Brother" vibes with how much it tracks your every movement and purchase. But the convenience it provides is undeniable.
The medallion is your modern day "cruise card" that you tap everywhere to make payments, order drinks, unlock your stateroom, get on/off the ship, and more. But what's crazy is the app can use the medallion to detect your location anywhere on board. Order a drink or meal through the app and the server will manage to find you anywhere on the ship to deliver it, usually within 15 minutes. Caveat: there were times when it took longer and other times when our order was marked "delivered" and it never arrived.
The medallion definitely feels like getting on/off the ship is way faster. The only time we ever waiting in line was for the few minutes it took people to run through security.
This made getting food/drinks almost too easy. On port days when we needed to get off the ship early for excursions, setting up a scheduled delivery of my Egg McMuffin, fruit plate in coffee was really convenient.
Fair warning though - if you're anti-tracking and value privacy over convenience, the ubiquitous Medallion system may not be for you.
Story: we were sitting by the Crooners bar having our nightly pre-dinner cocktail. The bar was packed on this night for some reason. A staff member in a suit started wandering the room, made eye contact with me from 40-feet away and then made a b-line for us. He wanted to sign us up for a wine/food pairing event they were having. I have to believe this is because of the tracking being done via the meddalion. They could see we drink our share of wine. It definitely felt like targeted marketing.

Premium Package Was Best for Us

We opted for the Premium beverage package at $80 per day and I'm glad we did for a few reasons:

1. If you need to have more than one device connected to the internet at a time, Premium makes sense just based on that (you can have four devices). The cheaper Plus package only allows one device, which was a non-starter for me needing both my phone and laptop to be online. I'm unfortunately not able to just live off the grid for almost three weeks and need to periodically check in with my clients.
2. The wine selection is way better with Premium vs Plus. As a wine drinker, the upgrade was 100% worth it.
3. Two free speciality dining meals are included, which was clutch on our 2-week cruise to break up the repetition of the main dining rotation.
4. Unlimited premium desserts and ice creams - a nice perk for those with a sweet tooth.

Basically, Premium removed almost any need to think about or worry over costs on board. For $80 per day, the premium drinks, speciality dining, better wines, desserts and internet made it an easy choice for our group's needs.
And for those wondering about the 15 drink per day limit (since there's almost a weekly post asking about it) - it was never an issue for me. I'm a scrotch drinker and to get a decent pour, you basically have to order a double. Even drinking doubles, I never got to 15 drinks/day. This even includes sea days where we'd typically have a mimosa or two with breakfast, a few cocktails/beers at the pool, an cocktail or two before dinner and then wine at dinner.

Staff & Service

I can't say enough about how incredible and friendly the service was across the board on the Sun Princess. Our room steward, waiters, bartenders - everyone went so above and beyond daily, it really elevated the experience. I'm always amazed how they remember everyone's names.
However, we did notice a clear slip in the quality of service in the second week compared to the first, likely due to a crew changeover partway through our sailing. Simple things like forgetting drink orders or getting meals wrong became more frequent from our new set of MDR servers.

Suites & Staterooms

We originally booked a balcony room. When the bid offer came in I followed some old advice and just placed bids on upgrades because "you don't have to take the offer if you don't like it." Well guess what, that's not the case anymore. My offer was accepted and we automatically became the proud recipients of a Reserve Mini-Suite for an additional $500. In hindsight, I'm glad it worked out. The room has noticably more space than a standard balcony room. These mini-suites are spacious, basically a separate living room and bedroom divided by a curtain you can close off. Having two TVs and an extra closet was great.
As mini-suite guests we also received a nice amenity of free premium wines in our room - on the second week they even topped us up with two more complementary bottles! I guess each week is looked at as a new sailing -- so you get two more bottles! Some older posts complained about the wine quality. It looks like it's been upgraded because we received a Pinot Noir and Chard from La Crema. Being California wine people, La Crema works great for us. If you can swing it, I'd highly recommend going for a mini-suite over a regular balcony.
That being said, I'd avoid the "Cabana" balcony suites. The layout is really bizarre and in my opinion a downgrade. When you walk out onto your balcony, it's not really a balcony. There's another area in front of your balcony that connects a few other cabana suites. The idea is that a few rooms share a private balcony with jacuzzi. However, it also means that walking out onto your balcony doesn't give you a private ocean view because there's this 20-30 feet of additional patio in front of you and everyone above you just looks down into your balcony area.

Dining Highs & Lows

Main Dining Rooms

It can be confusing because there are three floors (Decks 6, 7 and 8). We reserved dining in the MDR prior to the trip via the app for the first few days just so we knew there was a guaranteed place to eat. On night one, the dining room manager introduced himself to us and said he went ahead and booked our table for us every night of the trip. If we didn't show, it was fine.
Food quality in the main dining rooms (MDRs) was consistently good across breakfast and dinner. On port days, it's an "express breakfast" which just means a shorter list of options. Nothing mind-blowing, but solid and tasty. My biggest gripe here is the operating hours. On sea days, the MDR closes for breakfast at 9:00am. You basically have to choose between sleeping in a little, hitting the gym, or getting a decent breakfast.
Pro-Tip: Biggest breakfast tip is stay away from the scrammbled eggs -- they're gross. We figured out that the scrambled eggs come from a bag. If you want real, cracked eggs, either get an omelett or over easy/medium/hard/etc.

Reserve Suite Dining Access

The Reserve mini-suite gives you access to the Reserve Restaurant. It's a little bit more elevated of a dining experience and reservations aren't needed -- you just show up. We dined her a few times and it did feel more elevated. Unlike the MDR, the server in the Reserve Restaurant feels more personal because they're handling smaller groups.

Lido Deck

For more casual fare, the Lido deck had some surprises like an awesome made-to-order salad bar station that became my go-to for healthier meals between all the indulgent dining. The burger grill, taco station and pizza areas were pretty standard, but that salad bar slapped.

Lackluster Buffet

On the flip side, The Eatery buffet left a lot to be desired. Despite different themed stations, the quality was mid at best. We largely avoided eating at the buffet outside of quick breakfast grabs. The Eatery closes for breakfast around 10:00 AM. At which point if you move further into the ship, the restaurants that are normall Catch and Butcherblock become a buffet extension that's opened later -- it's kind of funky.
The layout of the buffet is weird and leaves people wondering if they're cutting in line especially when you go to the extended buffet at Catch/Butcherblock.
What's odd to me is you can go grab a million cheese plates, fruit plates or hummus/veggie plates at the buffet. But if you order those things through the Medallion app, it's not "complimentary." You have to pay like $4.99-$5.99 for those items. We still can't figure out why it costs $5 to order a tiny cheese plate but ordering a cheeseburger is free.

Specialty Dining Winners

We used our two speciality dining credits at Crown Grill and Butcher's Block. I was a little worried because I had read mixed reviews on here about both of these restaurants. However, both meals were really good and before you come at me, I'm a foodie guy -- I'd tell you if they sucked.
We chose Crown for my parent's anniversay dinner. The service was awesome and they made us all feel really special. The setup here is like a steakhouse, where you order your beef and then the sides are a la carte family style. We had a group of seven -- the manager just said "we'll bring you out all the sides, enough for your whole party" which was great.
The next week, we hit up Butcher's Block by Dario. I've never left a meal more full on a cruise ship than at this place. It's family style dining and they just bring out everything for you -- almost like a brazilian barbecue place. We started with a bread appetizer and a glass of wine while you wait for them to get the dining room setup. Then there's more bread on the table + veggies. Then the food starts coming out: beef tartar; beef carpaccio; etc. The main event is the massive tomahawks and porterhouse steaks they carve up tableside. They'll just keep putting beef on your plate until you beg them to stop. Finally, there's desert and a grappa digestif.
Both restaurants were great experiences and a very welcomed change from the MDR after a week of repetition. The food, service and overall vibe were a noticeable step up.

Spellbound

We also splurged one night for the Spellbound immersive magic/dinner experience and it was easily a cruise highlight despite the $150/pp price tag. After an elevated multi-course meal, you get ushered by a guy in a top hat into an exclusive hidden club. While waiting for the magic show, you hang out in their bar which is reminiscent of the Dinseyland Haunted Mansion. While enjoying your drink, there's a magician perorming more intement magic for everyone at the bar. Once they're ready for the show, you're brought into the room where the actual magic show takes place. Afterwards, you're welcome to hang out in the Spellbound bar and continue drinking.
If you're from LA, you probably know about the Magic Castle in Hollywood. Spellbound is an extension of the Magic Castle. Just like with the Magic Castle, you show up in formal wear. This means a coat and tie for the men and an evening gown/dress for the woman.
Overall, we really enjoyed it.

Room Service

This was hit or miss for us. You fill out the paper door hangar and place it on your doorknob before heading to bed. Then you hope and pray that it will actually arrive -- which in two of our instances, it never did. Your options are also super limited. You also may or may not receive what you actually ordered. With coffee for instance, you have a choice of ordering it to-go (paper cup) or stay (actual coffe cup). We always seemed to get the opposite of what we ordered to the point where it became a running joke for us.

International Cafe

This became our goto for a lot of things: coffee, snacks, quick breakfast food (pastries, coffee cake, avodcado toast, Egg McMuffins). Werid fact though: if you order the Egg McMuffin through the app, it comes as an egg patty just like McDonalds and with cheese. When you get the one at International Cafe, it's just an over easy egg and no cheese. Why they can't just be the same is odd.

Night Owl Needs

My main dining gripe was the lack of solid late night food options for us night owls. The Eatery buffet closed at an absurd 10:30pm, leaving only spotty room service or mobile ordering as the choices if you worked up an appetite after evening activities. More robust late-night casual dining would be appreciated.

Bars & Alcohol

Overall, great selection of cocktails. All of the bars have their own little theme and different menus. The ladies I was with were consitently impressed at the quality and thought of the cocktails at each bar. They were also super impressed with the quality of the glassware being used. I must admit, everything from the rocks glasses to the martini glasses really were beautiful.
If you just want straight spirits, you have to order a double to get a normal pour (they're actually measuring out the pours). That being said, with either Plus or Premium, you'll get a good selection of top quality booze.
You gotta try really hard to hit the 15-drink max. Some days I had drinks at breakfast, during the day, lunch, before dinner, during dinner and after dinner. I never hit my max.
One thing that impressed me was staff actually being concerned about drink quality. We were having drinks at one of the bars on the Lido deck. The supervisor was upset with the bartenders because they ran out of premium liquor and hadn't requested more. He made sure to remind them that when someone orders a premium drink they get a premium liquor -- no exceptions.
You also must checkout the Good Spirits bar. There's a few times throughout the night where you watch a live cocktail demonstration. The bartenders at GS are so fun and playful -- really makes for a great vibe.

Amenities - Hits & Misses

The gym facilities on board were a bit of a disappointment, especially for a new ship. While they had a nice assortment of cardio machines, the actual weight room was laughably small with only a few pieces of strength equipment that were always monopolized. Not a deal-breaker, but an area that could be improved.
The pool areas were nicely spread out across different sections of the Lido deck. On sailing days, there was typically a band, the DJ and then a random movie on the jumbotron. The random blasting of action movies at 3pm really ruined the pool vibe and it's typically when the deck would thin out. One minute you're relaxing in the jacuzzi, the next an action movie with explosions is shaking the pool area. It made no sense and seemed tailored for a much younger crowd despite this sailing's passengers being mostly older adults.

Technology & Support

In addition to the Medallion app, the overall internet speeds on board were fast and reliable enough for me to easily stay connected for basic work needs.
The technology support via the app's live chat feature, however, was utterly useless. Any time we had issues properly being charged for drink packages or had to modify reservations, the live chat was a time-wasting nightmare. You're clearly just talking to an outsourced rep with zero actual knowledge of Princess' systems or operations. Your best bet is to go in-person to the guest services desk.

Other Notes & Quibbles

• Dress codes weren't enforced at all. We did the whole suite/gown routine for formal nights only to see plenty of people still rocking jeans and t-shirts in the MDR. Same lack of enforcement for the "formal attire required" Spellbound event. Either lose the formal nights or enforce them.
• Our drink package tallies often had errors, with our group's drinks randomly getting combined onto one person's account. Always double check and ask for corrections.
• The "Cabana" balcony suite layout is bizarre - your balcony is just a shared landing in front of other suites, rather than a private space. We avoided these after hearing the lack of privacy.

I thought I would share my story here, because reading about everyone’s experiences has been so incredibly validating. So firstly; from the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU everyone- in turn, I hope this helps someone, or that someone resonates with an experience, or adds to the collective consciousness of healing and realising that we deserve better. Because I need to believe that, I need to know this has been bad. I feel completely mental.
I’d like to start by saying this may not make sense and I’m a bit all over the shop rn and I apologise. And there are many, many things I could add to this that have added to the growing sadness and eggshell walking as the relationship went on, but I’ve tried to keep it small. I also want to say that you may be screaming at the screen wondering how I could be so stupid. And to that I say, me too. I am screaming at myself as well. As a 30-something year old woman, I acknowledge I was not the person I wanted to be in this situation. I wanted to be stronger.
I’m currently a couple of weeks out of my break up (or break up attempt 1 as I should probably put it, I’m still sending angry texts, receiving proclamations of love, wondering what if). I was with my nex (narcissistic ex) for nearly 7 years. We were meant to be getting married a week ago. For the last six months, my intuition had been telling me that a “friendship” he had with a coworker wasn’t right. This coworker was going through some stuff, and leant heavily on nex probably because he portrayed himself as a powerhouse at work who said whatever was on his mind and was always, always, always always right (newsflash he wasn’t). Nex has a saviour complex x1000 that I’d never let myself really think too hard about so he went hardcore “supporting her” and I sat on the sidelines thinking she needed that support. I won’t say anything about this girl but she’s not a girl’s girl. She’s a pick me. It kind of felt to me like- of course he’s not going to choose her, why would I worry about it. It’s too OBVIOUS. Like of course not? Look what we have.
Before this and during, Nex and I were planning on buying a house and were getting married (I was doing all the house saving, he had no idea about money but pretended he did, spent impulsively but was on a great salary, and I was doing all the wedding planning) and were planning on having a baby next year-ish. I had reached a point in my career that I was finally happy with, a career he said many shitty things about over our time together but it was the first thing he mentioned when talking to others and trying to impress. He had proposed at year 4 of the relationship (he always said he wouldn’t propose before 3 years because that’s how long his longest relationship was with his ex who he also cheated on). Red flag that yet again I ignored because I was different and this was different and I could change him and blah fucking blah.
Our relationship looked perfect. It really fucking did. I thought it was for a long time. I refused to think it wouldn’t be forever and wasn’t written in the stars. Behind the scenes, now I look back(ish) I realise I was struggling. I had raging PMS each month, often had depressive episodes that he would virtually ignore. I often struggled to watch movies where women had kind, funny and non reactive partners, I secretly envied my friends and their partners because they wouldn’t have to worry about what came out of their partner’s or their mouth next, or who their partner would fight with in the room, or how I would handle a public put down if he was in that mood or if I wasn’t handling myself perfectly. I walked on eggshells for years. I took his self aggrandising every day after work or sport as healthy self confidence. I was being slowly removed from my family as he argued with each one. He bragged about me and I felt like his trophy which I took as love and it gave me a false confidence I’d never had before when I was with him. When I spoke about him my inner voice said ‘wow, he really does sound great.’ His sister would often look at me and I felt like she always wanted to ask if I was really okay but I never let her. I had supported nex through addiction to weed/alcohol/substances of every kind (something I struggled to do because they have never been on my radar, just uninterested, and I was the bad person for that, I was the ‘child’ who wouldn’t immerse herself in the wonderful world of drugs), countless interpersonal issues at work and with his family, trying to support all sides, I had organised every home we had lived in, I organised cooking, cleaning, fun weekends, it was my goal to get him the most thoughtful and lovely presents I could find whenever I could. It was like it was my goal to be a fabulous girlfriend. I’m really not trying to pretend I’m perfect, but I can say 100% honestly that I put all I could into making him feel loved. He used to call me a unicorn, I guess because I just did whatever he wanted. However, I felt like I was going to bed in tears more often than anyone should. I got to the point where I wouldn’t put eye cream on because I knew I was just going to cry it off. Every Sunday morning I got a bit triggered by our local coffee shop because I always felt like that was where we were trying to pick up the pieces emotionally after fighting the night before over absolutely anything. I found this taxing, because never had I had such a tumultuous relationship with anyone before and I was wondering wtf was happening. He, on the other hand, often said how much he enjoyed conflict and he loved the feeling of anger. He said it to everyone and I always laughed it off. He said he was so good at handling people and he charmed so well, as he is incredibly good looking. He had issues with everyone - his bosses, his friends, his coworkers, his neighbours. We were in couples counselling after I couldn’t be yelled at anymore, and he had told a friend of ours that it was for me and not for him. I chose not to believe he said that because this friend had had issues with him too and I thought it might’ve been an attempt from them of triangulation. I believe them now. I’m so sorry to that friend. Two of his friends sent me messages on seperate occasions asking me if I was okay, that I didn’t have to put up with this.
Something I am proud of is that I, often, when I felt strong, and my brain worked, didn’t play along with his ego without a fight. I DID play devils advocate for the other person when he had yet another interpersonal issue. I DID call out his dogmatism. I DID expect more from him, that he didn’t have to yell CUNT or WHORE every time something went mildly wrong. However, there are times when I didn’t. And it was because I was just fucking exhausted.
Two/three months ago, and after I found a deleted phone call from the other woman that he lied to my face about, I started watching his find my iPhone which we had turned on when I went overseas a couple of years earlier but I’d forgotten about. It felt gross doing, I didn’t want to, but I also tried to justify it to myself by saying it’s my future, damn it, let’s see if I really am being ridiculous. One early morning while it was still dark, I felt him kiss me and say he was going to the gym. An hour later I woke up with an EERIE AS FUCK feeling and checked FMI. He was at her address. I called him and he didn’t pick up. I watched his car drive on FMI back to the gym and he conveniently called. I asked where he had been and he immediately gaslit me, said he was at the gym, FACETIMED ME TO SHOW ME and said that he couldn’t do my “jealousy” anymore. I broke down and told him I knew he had been at hers through FMI. He then started crying and said he visited her to call the friendship off “the right way” and that he told her that he cared for her but he had to stop because I couldn’t take it anymore and was too jealous. I bought it, as he never ever cried. I apologised. But from then on, my body was full of anxiety and pain. Life was on autopilot.
This happened a few other times. I had a weird feeling one afternoon on a Saturday when he said he was at the gym and had to pop into work to do some printing (not unusual). On autopilot, unable to feel emotions and probably looking completely mental, I got in my car, drove to the workplace, and saw both their cars outside. As I turned the corner to drive away, realising it HAD to be over now, you stupid bitch Charlie0987 it HAD to be over, I immediately got a call from him explaining away, can’t even remember what he said now. It’s not what you think, we have some important work to do that she can’t do alone, you’re jealous, she’s (the other woman) is angry that you even think anything is going on. I ended up apologising that night. Yep. However, at that point I did call off the wedding. I thought the wedding stress and money (literally, me fucking planning it, most of MY money) was the problem. I thought if we just eloped, we’d be okay. Calling everyone to call off the wedding while pretending to them and myself that it was all okay was fucked. I have no other way to describe it than completely and utterly fucked. He was then nice for a few days. I was heartbroken I couldn’t have the wedding I has envisioned, I didn’t let myself think of the love that was crashing down around me. Everyone asked me how the wedding planning was going, every day it was someone new. I had to pretend it was all fine and that we cancelled for financial reasons. It was hell. I will never again ask someone planning a wedding how the wedding planning is going until they bring it up with me.
All through this, I was supporting my friend with a very rare form of cancer (it doesn’t feel real typing this out, feels like some kind of shitty movie). I remember crying about it once on the couch and he said that my crying annoyed him, and that what the other woman had gone through was bad too. He said he didn’t want to have sex with me because I was too skinny (I was depressed and not eating) and cried too much and because I didn’t exercise and he was attracted to people that exercised (fair enough, but also fuck you). Still, through all this, I loved him, tried to be what he had loved about me for six years (compassionate and quiet) and told myself it was okay and it was a rough patch.
All through this, our couples counsellor was saying my attachment issue and abandonment issues was what was a huge part of the problem and that males and females have friendships and I needed to gtfo it. Like every human being I’m sure I have had fears of abandonment, and I do acknowledge I have relied on the safe feeling of men in the past. However, I NOW don’t think it was the main issue here. I don’t blame this counsellor if I’m honest, he was eating what was being fed to him by nex. And I wanted to believe it too. I was willing to work on myself and I was trying to see my anxiety for what I thought, and what I was being told, it was. Nex told me regularly when I asked him not to yell at me that I just didn’t understand real men.
A couple of weeks before D Day, nex asked for space to “miss me”. I went to my family, pretended he’d gone on a trip so I wouldn’t get asked why I was there, tried to show up for work, tried to be strong. I slept next to my wedding dress, still boxed. Those weeks were probably the worst weeks of my life. I didn’t know where he was, didn’t know who he was with, but we were still together, I didn’t eat, got medication to sleep, mindlessly partook in my hobbies to try to do the right thing and be the person he loved. He treated me like I was an annoying fly and either didn’t reply to messages or sent a few and then nothing. After four days of me barely eating and sleeping and looking like an emaciated ghost, I asked if I could come home (I loved our rental, it was such a safe space for me with my garden and my animals). He replied basically fine, and then for the rest of the week I was chastised for not giving enough space and that it wasn’t proper space. Couples counsellor agreed with him. A week later I said fuck it and went again, feeling a bit stronger this time. On day 3, I felt sick all day. I had a nap in the afternoon and felt dread. I had received no messages, but I messaged that I loved him that night. He love hearted it. I found out later he had been with her all day, but don’t worry, it was for a good reason he said. Intuition yet again picked that one up.
The next morning I got up, packed, and went home as it was our agreed upon day that I’d return. I said to him this is actually it, I can’t take this anymore. I am physically and mentally wrecked. It’s been six years. You’re a big boy. You’re either in it or you’re not. It was a big conversation, and we agreed that we would be in it together, the relationship was worth saving, and I would step back and agree to believe in his supportive friendship with this girl and no longer worry. He also agreed to tell me if he didn’t want to be together anymore, or if anything came up regarding this relationship with the girl. We set a date to elope for end of year. He went to the gym, and I remember saying to him I was so happy we’re choosing us. He kissed me and said me too. I felt elated and safe. I then re packed my bag, as I was taking my friend to her first cancer treatment the day after.
When he got back from the gym, he went to the shower. Now we had agreed with the couples counsellor not to check each others phones for a while. I had been okay with it, and didn’t have an issue leaving his phone. But once he got into the shower, my intuition, my chest, my body, SCREAMED at me to check his notes in his phone for the first time in weeks. I went into notes and found a text drafted to the other woman. It said something along the lines of “X and I have agreed to a break when she takes her friend to cancer treatment. I told her I wasn’t sexually attracted to her anymore but I was to you. I’m feeling so over it now she’s home, I want more space” plus some other awful stuff that I’ve buried down and can’t quite remember. At no point, ever, did we agree to a break. I dropped his phone, went into the bathroom, and told him I was leaving. I can’t remember much of the next few moments. I do remember he turned it on me for looking at his phone, then him crying. I remember screaming, screaming screaming at him. I had raised my voice hardly ever in our entire relationship so I can imagine that was a moment for him. But I just screamed. I asked if he was planning on trying to sleep with her when I was with my friend for radiation. He nodded. He blocked me from the door to “talk” and tried to grab me into a hug. I screamed and screamed. I put (the most random shit btw, a dress, some acne cream, a book??) some things into a bag and I got into the car, howling. And I sat there a moment and I STILL WONDERED IF I SHOULD LEAVE.
I STILL WONDERED IF I SHOULD LEAVE.
And I did. I drove away from our beautiful little secluded rental that I had poured my love into and was hoping to raise a baby in. I knew I couldn’t afford the rent alone but he can even with his pathetic spending habits and I can’t live in the place of our memories. I went to my family and fell apart. I’m not going to disclose further about my mental state or what happened but I got sent to be with other family for a couple of weeks in another state. He has been messaging me ever since. Promises of change, of moving away, of starting again, of selling a property that he bought before us and has sat doing nothing our entire relationship and was the reason we couldn’t buy our home, (frustrating that he reaps the reward of that now), saying he has blocked this other woman from his life (he still works with her and I refuse to believe he hasn’t had ongoing contact). Oh and on the day I drove to be with my family in another state, the universe decided to let my car meet her car, with him in it, at an intersection. He crouched down like the coward he is. She looked like a stunned mullet. I waved at her. I was hysterical. Can’t even remember it fully but I remember the feeling. That’s the love of my life in there with another woman. It. Was. Fucking. Hell. On. Earth. I still can’t believe that happened. What were actually the odds of that happening?
I’ve gone through so much anger towards her but I KNOW it’s misdirected. I’m slowly moving towards anger towards him. I haven’t messaged her telling her how my life has been destroyed and I won’t. I think she will thrive on it and she has a young kid who my heart bleeds for. And I have so much anger towards the series of events that had to happen in the first place and what feels like the wasted last 7 years of the best years of my life. I miss my home and my non-existent child and I miss arms around me. I miss him when he was nice. I hate that I don’t have what everyone else around me seems to have at this age, what I want so desperately. Please, please let me know I can get through this. Let me know I can’t go back. Please tell me this is abuse and it won’t get better because I am struggling to believe it. I’m also super fragile right now so if you want to say anything mean, just hold it for now and bring it to me later.
Love to you all. X

So, I've kind of posted about this in other threads, specifically on askreddit, but by some users request, I will do my best to fully relay this entire tale up to the current point, as well as provide as much context I am able (and will provide missing context if asked in comments).
TL;DR
A friend of mine of 4 years drank himself into liver failure and his wife cheated on him, so I offered him a free room to try and put his life back together, and I was repaid for the thought with a divorce of my own, but honestly, it's probably not that bad.
Part 1: CONTEXT
Me and my wife have been together since early 2014, and married in late 2017. We have been through much together, including two extended deployments, one of which was 10 and a half months long. We have traveled the world together, lived on both coasts of the US, and despite much of our struggles and how things eventually went down, I was always convinced we would work as a team to overcome any issues.
The friend in question was, largely, an online friend. We met playing an MMO during covid and we quickly formed a very tight knit, but small, community that were very close that included me, my wife, my friend, his wife, and 4 other friends. Covid was a wild time and I was surprised how easy it was to form friends in this group and we kept in touch, as a whole, even once quarantine had ended and most of us had moved on from that particular game. This was a group that, while it started online, we have met most of these people several times IRL and had vacations to spend time together and just hang out.
Part 2: His Problems
Fast forward to about January of 2024. My buddy, from here on out I will refer to as Z (and for a quick add, I will refer to my wife as D), contacts us to tell us his condition is dire and he has been diagnosed with stage 4 cirrhosis of the liver as a consequence of his extensive drinking. Shaken, we quickly charter a flight out to visit. Within a week, we're staying with him and his wife and his roommate and a couple members of his family who are taking care of him. This man is bloated, yellow, and probably about 350lbs now. We are worried, but stay supportive and positive that help can be found, especially since he seems keen on changing his lifestyle for the better. Some of his family start a gofundme that we donate to, and many of the people in our gaming circle who have grown close also donate several thousand dollars (One member of our raid team donated 10k. You never know who is stealth rich on the internet I guess). Me and several other friends discuss the possibilities of helping him get on disability and even getting ourselves tested as compatible living donors. Sad, but hopeful, we depart about a week later, and stay in constant touch.
About a month later, I'm getting a call from one of our mutuals letting me know that "Hey, so I may have goofed up." and tells me how Z's wife had visited him and had a 3 way with him and his wife. I am obviously irate at this and turn to back Z up with comments like "So much for in sickness and in health, huh?" I do what I can to stay supportive, and my wife, D, also makes it a point to stay in touch with him as he has found himself banished to the couch of his apartment. Not even allowed to sleep in his own bed and frequently uncomfortable even being in his bedroom to use the PC.
I'm not particularly rich, but I am not poor either. I served in the military and have a high VA rating which means a constant income and have a steady job and a couple side gigs that pay well enough. My love language, in many ways, is gift giving. I pride myself on being able to pick a good gift, even if it's a little early for an occasion such as a bday or christmas, and will often pull the trigger on something if it means a lot or I think it will help. In this case, my brother was selling an old steam deck because he wanted a new OLED model, so I figured "two birds, one stone", and buy the steam deck off him and send it to Z so we can still game together.
In the intervening months, Z and D start playing games that I have no interest in (Disney Dreamlight Valley), but I am happy to play other games and hang out and chat. Really, nothing seems amiss, but since his banishment, me and my wife are both pushing for him to come and take up the spare bedroom we have in our home. Soon enough, I buy him a plane ticket and he arrives with little more than the clothes on his back and we take him in, no cost other than the expectation that he might help around the house a bit (he was a chef, so having a cook and someone to help clean was ideal for me who often did not have the time or energy to handle these tasks as thoroughly as I would like).
Part 3: The Incident
Now, I am skipping ahead a little bit here, but there's not much to be said about the time between. My wife worked part time hours, and when she did go to work, she'd have him tag along just so he wouldn't "Sit and stew with bad thoughts" at the house alone. I will admit that throughout this entire ordeal, I have had several, several times where my brain tried to warn me, but I ignored ALL of those signs because I trusted him, but more importantly, I trusted her with my life.
One new, frequent argument I found myself having with her was she would fall asleep on the couch, and when I finally tried to go to bed, I'd do my best to wake her and drag her upstairs. These became extremely frequent occurrences and I expressed to her how frustrated I was that I had to fight with her just to come to bed so we could sleep (mind you, this is not even about sex. Often I'm taking her to bed at like, 1am and I work at 7, so I really just wanted her to be sleeping in the bed). Hell, one time, I started catching the vibes that the longer I sat and waited for her to be ready to go upstairs, she just never would be, because they were waiting for me to leave so they could talk in hushed tones. On THAT particular night, I went upstairs alone with her finally awake, and she did not join me for another half hour.
Finally, the day arrives. Its Sunday. We are all downstairs hanging out. One of their newest habits I can't really stand but just dealt with is that she'd sit and crochet while he doomscrolled or strummed on a guitar I bought him and listen to music videos on youtube endlessly. Eventually, I grow weary and give my wife a kiss and tell her I'm gonna go upstairs and play some GW2 for a bit.
About an hour passes, and she enters the game room and tells me "I am uncomfortable. I really need to talk to you. Oh, you're dying!" (As she entered the room, I immediately turn face to talk to her and disregard the game, but she decided that my Charr was more important that what was about to happen, so she of course warns me.) We step into the bedroom and close the door.
"You're going to hate me," she says through tears, "me and Z kissed!" At this point, my brain short circuits and I recall one of my first thoughts being "Oh lord, here we go." and just a general desire to not be a part of this conversation. Shock sets in almost immediately. Still with a healthy dose of denial, I talk to her about what had happened and told her that it needed to end. Even at this point, I did not want to send this man home. Was it shock? Denial? Probably a mixture of the two, or some other additional emotional responses. She gets up after some discussion and goes downstairs, promising to shut him down, but comes back about 15 minutes later sobbing "I couldn't do it! I couldn't end it..." (Side note: In my confused haze of a mind, I feel personally threatened, and after she leaves the bedroom, I lock the door and grab a metal water cub I keep at my side and prepare to actually fight if it comes to it, but once she returns, I back off that idea again.)
Talking with her more, I present her with two options; Couple's therapy, or divorce. BOTH of these options are world ending to her, and she even goes so far as to suggest that just because I said the "D word" that it was what I wanted, which was objectively untrue. We talk back and forth about things I don't quite recall at this point, aside from one point where she comes back and locks herself in the master bath and tells me to call 911, she doesn't care, because she's going to take a bunch of pills, but after a couple of hours, Z shows up to the door and knocks and asks if he can come in. I tell him he may enter, and we talk for a bit. After about 5ish minutes, we decide to go downstairs to the living room and continue the discussion.
Once I sit down on the sofa, I immediately feel like I'm being positioned as the bad guy. I'm in the corner of our sectional, and she's on my left, he's on my right. She tells him "He said it's either a divorce or couple's therapy." "Oh, so he gave you an ultimatum?" I continue to argue that yes, those are the two only options. Z tells me "You're not being fair to her emotions. She is telling you there is another option." I am thoroughly baffled at this statement.
D: I didn't think it was possible and I didn't mean for it to happen, but I have fallen in love with another man. My heart has room for two. I truly have two soulmates. I have never been happier than sleeping on the couch next to my two boys.
Z: There is no reason you guys can't stay married, and we can explore what we've found. I mean, look at how happy she has been since I have been here!
Sick to my stomach, I get up to go vomit in the toilet. Now, I wore a silicone wedding ring, and often find even with a hand wash, a little water tends to get trapped under it. After I finish and wash myself up, I come back and am playing with my ring to dry it. She sees this as a sign that I am uncomfortable again wearing my ring, and takes off her ring as I sit back down and hands me her wedding ring.
Me: Uh, excuse me?
D: This is what you want, I can tell.
Me: No? I was washing my hands and water gets stuck under my ring...
D: Oh... I thought... okay. (And she takes back her ring from me)
I tell her, very clearly, the options are to either end things with him, or end things with me. At this point, I'm still in shock, but sober in mind enough to decide that this is not worth fighting over. I will not argue with my own wife my merits or why she shouldn't just pack up and leave with a jobless, now essentially homeless man, and if she cannot figure that out herself then I will eventually move on.
Crying, sobbing, she sits down in front of him and says, "I'm so sorry, I fought for you. I really did. I told you I'd fight for you and I failed. I loved being your girlfriend, but I need to be a good wife and stay."
Z says "Alright." and starts to go gather his things to leave. As he does, she grabs him and says "No, wait! Please don't go. I don't know what I want."
Z: Ok, well if we're getting all this out in the open, I want to say this. I love this girl. I love her with my whole heart, and without her, life is not worth living. I will not leave this house if you (me) tell me to. Only her. You are taking this very well right now, I can tell you want to hit me (Still in shock, no, I can genuinely say that emotion or thought had not actually registered outside of the event upstairs earlier), but this is my stand.
D: OP, we had a good run. I'm sorry.
And with that, I get up and go to get my sandals and leave the house to get some air. As I try to go, she runs to the door and he follows her. She pushes the door closed and says "No wait, please!"
Me: No, this is the deal. I'm going out to get some fresh air. I am not threatening self harm to "win you back".
D: Will you be back?
Me: I don't know.
Z: Man, I'm telling you, you don't understand, you think I am your enemy, but I am not.
And with that, I leave and shut the door.
In the about, hour, I am gone, I drive around near the house and I call my supervisor who I have a very good relationship with (and I did not want to involve direct friends or family yet because I'm afraid it's too early to start spreading this news). I go over to her house nearby and we chat shortly. After our talk, I have at least something of a clear head and go home, with words for both of them.
As I arrive home, there is no one downstairs. I go upstairs. His door is closed. I knock on the door.
Z: Uh, one second.
I wait for about 5 agonizing seconds, but I refuse to be shut out of rooms in my own home and open the door. He is shirtless, and she is hiding in the corner just out of sight of me. I look him in the eye.
Me: Really?
Z: Yep.
Me: Get out of my house.
And with that, they both silently pack their things and leave.
The second I hear the front door close, I start calling people. I am not above pettiness, and the first person I call is her mom, whom I have a good relationship with. She is SHAKEN and immediately calls her. (I find out later that it was a particularly harsh verbal beating by her, but it really doesn't change anything.)
When I come downstairs to check the state of the house, I see her wedding ring on the counter. I call out of work the next day and lay down and hope I die.
Part 4: Her Problems
So, there is some additional context that I did not add in part 1 because a lot of it is red flags I ignored over the course of our relationship that, in the days following, started to become more and more obvious. There are many that I spent much effort playing off or covering her for, but I will try to briefly list much of what I see as glaring issues in the relationship that were never remedied.
This woman is 30 years old and cannot drive. She can drive and HAS driven my vehicle at the start of the relationship (albeit illegally), but after one tiny little accident where she hit a pole and knocked my side mirror off (which she paid for and fixed before telling me, it really wasn't a big deal. I was on deployment), she never drove again. Attempts to get her behind the wheel would end very quickly after they started, and the conditions to get her in the seat were often extremely time limited, scheduled, or something would come up, and every time I told her "okay, this month we're getting your license for sure" it just wouldn't happen and I'd end up feeling like the one who was at fault.
She does not have her Bachelor's degree because she did not turn in her final project for one single class. Not only that, but she has never truly pursued a career with the things she learned from the coursework, or even used her AA.
For half of the relationship, she did not work at all. When she did, it was often part time work, and if she was saddled with full time hours or, god forbid, overtime, it was a world-ending affair. She would come home and constantly be tired from her few hours at work and would do little more than sit around and crochet.
Our agreement when we bought our house was that she was going to work full time and we were going to split household duties, but I would definitely scoop the cat box because she was allergic (but she wanted cats) and wash dishes (because she hated them), and she would do laundry (because I hated it). In practice, all her version of laundry turned out to be was to throw loads in when one of us was out of clothes and just hit wash and then rotate, and then leave all the clothes in a pile on the bed. EVERYONE KNOWS folding the laundry is the worst part! Come on! Men's clothes are easy! I don't wear that much! (When we would fold, I often finished in a third of her time and would just hang out and chat until she was done)
Ultimately, this meant that for many years now, she was working barely more than part time if she was working at all, and would sort-of do laundry. Meanwhile, I am scooping litter, folding laundry, doing dishes, doing all related yard work, doing all the household cleaning, handling all the finances, I did MOST of the cooking, and all of the grocery shopping (often going alone), driving her from work if I could (she'd uber it if not) and picking her up and driving her home, as well as just generally being a chauffeur for her for 10 years, while working a full time job and a side gig online. Many nights I'd have to stop what I was doing to pick her up at closing hours, and then would sit in the parking lot for 30 minutes while she did tasks like vacuum her little crystal shop that she definitely could have done before close so I didn't end up waiting so damn long. Then we'd come home hang out and eat while we watched TV, and then if I wanted to try and go upstairs to do another hobby, I'd be silently guilted about it because she wanted to sit on the couch and crochet.
Part 5: My Problems
I am not perfect, and admit I have flaws. One of her favorite things to claim to our friends now is that I was "emotionally neglectful", and if there is truth to it, I think I can pin down the day. Before I started working full time again, I was going to school on the 9/11 GI bill. I was not a good student in my younger years, but in time, I have become rather good at school. My first two semesters back I easily maintained a 4.0 GPA. Over the summer in 2022, I, woefully, decided to take a Calc 2 class online because I could not find one in person and wanted to be ready for Calc 3 in the Fall to fill a prereq for my bachelor's, and I really liked the instructor for that Calc 3 class. This calc 2 class was painful. The instructor had clearly recorded all his lectures during Covid and we were simply given the full course of videos and given work assignments and said "Email me if you have questions." This is not how I learn, but I figured, hey, it's one class. I'm working again, but one class isn't a huge deal. I can knock this out.
I was wrong.
After the second exam, I had a low C in the class and I knew I couldn't keep up. I withdrew from the class feeling no other option. I tend to be pretty good at math, and ultimately my dream was to work with 3d printing on an industrial scale with a Mechanical Engineering degree- and if that failed I had my military history (which is engineering relevant) and a degree to fall back on and work should come easily. After clicking that withdraw button, I saw those dreams vaporize. After that, I threw myself into my government civilian job full time and slowly fell into depression. By the end of our relationship, with the toll of doing 99% of the work around the house and for her and with my dreams dead and buried, at age 33, I would wake up and pray I died. I would never kill myself, but I wanted to just die. I felt backed into a corner. I still did everything I could to support her and hoped that one day, she would pick up some of the load and maybe, just maybe, I could go back, but that day did not come (At least not in the way I expected).
Part 6: The Aftermath
This post is already too long, and if I include every single detail that has come to light since, I might actually hit the post cap, but I will go over at least some of it here.
I have had my friends come out in droves. Both of them have been effectively exiled, at least from what I can see, from every friend circle we have. After a couple of days, they flew back to live with, I guess, his parents in Vegas while they sorted shit out, because after I spoke with Z's previous roommate, he adamantly explained he was tired of all the "fucking drama" that Z had been bringing into the house and was just done with it.
I have spoken with many, many people and gotten even more context and even receipts of some of each of their conversations to our mutual friends, and some of the shit I read is just hilarious. He is "not ashamed of pursuing happiness, he is just sad that people got hurt". She is "coming to terms with emotional neglect and felt trapped, but now, yes now, she is free."
I got my neighbors to watch the cats, and took my dog up to visit my closest friend of 20 years and spent about a week and a half drinking, smoking, and talking about all this while surrounded by some of the most beautiful nature the US has to offer. Truly, without this man, I don't think I'd have gotten this far as quickly as I have. He really has been a lifesaver and I truly, to my dying day, will always appreciate him.
Paperwork has been filed, we wish to remain on good terms, and one day I still do hope I can be a friend to her, but she is woefully immature and incapable of adequately performing in an adult society. I have quit my job and am returning to school with a much lighter budget and will be getting that degree I desperately need.
It's been hard, real hard. I have put every ounce of my being into this relationship, and I truly felt like she was part of me, and nothing like this could ever happen. But it's that trust that allowed this to happen. I do not hate her, I'm just disappointed. I will pick up my pieces and, hopefully, find myself whole again soon.
Part 7: Rambling anecdotes
These are some stories I wanted to include in the previous body of text but didn't feel like it kept the same flow (if there even is any at all, I'm not proofreading this). If I remember any others after I post, Ill just toss them in the comments.
Early after Z came to live with us, my mother came to the house to drop off a package. I am pretty sure I was at work, but when my mother came to the door, both of them answered the door and the way my mom describes it "First of all, do you answer the door at your friends house? Also, the way he hovered over her made me uncomfortable. They were in the doorway and he was right up behind her poking his head out." She said my wife had told her that I was feeling unwell and was upstairs sleeping. I can't even be sure at this point.
Shortly before all the things happened, my parents were going out of town to celebrate their own anniversary, and I had agreed to dog-sit their 5 month old puppy (who, while cute, has WAY too much energy and was EXTREMELY difficult to handle, and I have raised several dogs at this point). We met up and took the dog, and then ALL of us (including Z) went to dinner. At dinner, my mother looked at my wife and asked, directly "And so how long have you been married? 6, almost 7 years? Well at least you missed that 7 year itch, huh" and my wife shortly followed with a comment about how she was not hungry and did not eat dinner that night.
All of this happened WHILE THIS CRAZY PUPPY was running around the house, and part of me thinks he pushed this to happen when it did because he could not stand having to help take care of this dog any longer (2 days).
About a week after all this happened, my wife did not text or call me, or respond to any messages or emails I sent her (I didn't send many, but they exist). Frustrated, I text her and tell her I need to talk to her about logistics moving forward, specifically about her belongings. She told me "I will talk to you when I am ready." We did not talk for another week. Also, she told me to stop talking to her mom. (I have a good relationship with both of my in-laws and while her step-father tried to remain impartial to the best of his abilities, he gave me some of the best advice I could possibly have gotten at that time, mostly about how to move forward and cope, as he has personally dealt with this with smaller relationships 3 separate times in his life which he gave me details on, and we are still on good terms.)
Their favorite TV show to watch together was Outlander, which, if you aren't aware, is basically a story about a woman who time travels and has two men in her life.
One of our biggest constant points of contention was my friendship with an old high school buddy (who I spent much of the time in the aftermath hanging out with while healing). We believe, with good reason, that she hated this man because after I had almost been hospitalized for psych reasons due to stress, he had told me I needed to talk to her about working again and doing more to help around the house. She figured out, obviously, who was telling me to say these things, and sent a very, very angry text to his wife. They all apparently made up, but I know she never let that grudge go.
One of the fairly recent hobbies I got into was D&D. It seemed like a good fit for all of us. She loved fantasy and gaming, I enjoyed 3d printing and story telling. She needed friends, and a party of people hangin out would give her at least a few connections to start. Every night she "participated" in D&D, she mostly sat quiet and did not do anything. Hell, I tried to get her to participate in 2 different games, and after she left the first one, she asked to just sit quietly in the discord call (This first one was online only, second was in person) and listen, which was super awkward. In the in person game, after 3 months of playing, she did not know how to play her character at all, and mostly spent her time at the table crocheting. (My buddy even made a comment about how at one point, he was proud of how good I was getting at DMing and I was giving particularly good exposition, and she interrupted me to hand another player at the table a dice bag she made. I don't remember it, but I absolutely believe this happened.)
The day of "the incident", she had a meltdown about how a friend of hers had ghosted her. I told her it was okay, she was much younger anyway and people grow apart. She's probably going through stuff and we should respect that path she's on. She cried about how she has no friends.
Also the day of "the incident", we were in the shower together and she told me she had met her sister's new BF on facetime. I asked "why did she break up with her old one?" "Well... she cheated on him." "Oh, that's a shame. Cheating is probably the most cowardly act a person can do to another. If you're going to start a new relationship, you need to grow a pair and end it before starting a new one." She clearly took my words to heart.
One of my biggest pet peeves about cleaning the house is our dog sheds, a lot. If I see a hairball roll through the house it immediately drains me a bit. We had a roomba. She would send that thing home when it started and never start it again. It barely ran. She would not vacuum.
One of the most common descriptors of her I've heard used by many people now that they're "allowed to" is "She was there, doing the thing with us, but it was like she wasn't there."
Something she thought that I apparently hadn't figured out by the time we talked after everything happened was that they had been talking since February. I told her I wasn't stupid and had figured it out already that this wasn't out of the blue.
Z's wife is currently pregnant with the baby of the man she cheated on him with. (And he is also married)
Anything else I remember Ill leave for comments, I know there is much, much more.

https://preview.redd.it/4xrzwkgrih0d1.png?width=1292&format=png&auto=webp&s=27e7572a064e0ac1bde57fd9425d373cd0f4ec32
Cameron is back in the game in a 6-1-1 vote, and Scott and Anne Maria have gained immunity in a 7-5-2-1-1 vote.
Blaineley announces that Cameron has won the second chance challenge and is now back in the game. Cameron is incredulous, and Beardo, Ella, & Harold cheer for him, and Blaineley asks if she will get her money. Geoff laughs & says that they just barely went over time, which very much pisses off Blaineley, causing her to charge at Geoff. Security comes & captures her, and Geoff says that the next Aftermath will be at the secret finale location. As Blaineley is getting dragged away by security, Geoff signs off the episode, saying that he’ll see everyone next time.
Niagara Brawls
The episode opens with the Max clone scurrying around, playing with a sharp rock, and subsequently hiding when he sees the interns dragging the contestants to the cargo hold. The scene then cuts to a sleeping Max, who is having a dream about inventing things with Owen & Izzy. Scott, Sugar, & Topher then show up on hoverboards, destroying their work with lightning bolts. Max is thrown in the air, subsequently waking up & realizing that he and the other contestants have been thrown out of the plane.
Max promptly screams, waking everyone else up. While falling, two swan pedal boats are also falling with them. The contestants cling onto the boats as they fall and land in the water, making Anne Maria yell at Chris, as Staci shouts “Water!” This annoys Scott, but he & everyone else then see that they’re all heading toward a massive waterfall. Sugar laments about how she can’t win any more pageants when she dies, Dawn wishes her families good will, & Topher says that he fully doesn’t like Chris now. With Zoey though, she has turned into Commando Zoey, and uses her strength to throw Sugar into the other boat as an anchor, before furiously paddling both boats to safety. On the shore, Anne Maria compliments Zoey’s quick thinking & skills, and Scott is thinking. In the confessional, Scott says that Zoey must go ASAP, as she seems to be a big physical threat.
On shore, Chris reveals their location by telling the contestants that Niagara Falls is awesome, explaining that it is the jewel in Canada's crown and one of the top ten natural wonders in the world, also known for its fabulous casino, the place where they will head for the next part of the challenge, only to find themselves in the concert theater because all of them are underage. Topher asks if anyone will perform here, and Chris says that it’ll happen, as the last Aftermath episode has returned a contestant back to the game. Scott & Sugar are praying that it’s Sierra who returns, Max & Staci want Owen & Sadie respectively, and Chris then announces that it’s in fact Cameron who’s back in the game. Dawn is belated about this, and Cameron sings a song about Dawn & his friends, which is positively met.
Cameron asks Chris which team he’s on, and that he hopes it to be Team Amazon. Chris says that as of now it’s every man, woman, & Cameron for themselves, due to the teams being disbanded. Besides Scott, Sugar, & Topher, everyone is happy about this and is leering angrily at the villains. In the confessional, Sugar asks why everyone else is acting like they’re all friends, as this is Total Drama, not Total Friendship. With Zoey, she’s saying that she is excited at the chance of eliminating Scott or Sugar
Chris then announces that, since they are in the honeymoon capital of the world, they will be in pairs for "arranged marriages." The boys are placed in a giant casino machine, while the girls will pull the lever to see who their husband will be to team up for today's challenge and for Chris' own amusement, adding Bacon the bear in the slot machine, too.
Dawn pulls first, getting Scott, to which she slams the door on, crushing Scott’s arm. Dawn says that she’d prefer Bacon to Scott, making Chris give Bacon to Dawn. Sugar pulls next, getting Topher. Topher looks mostly indifferent to this, and Sugar suggests sabotaging everyone to gain victory, which Topher agrees with. Topher then asks what they should do with Scott, and Sugar says to treat him just like the others, as Sugar is in grave danger of being kicked if she loses.
Zoey pulls, hoping it’s not Scott, and gets Cameron. When Cameron sees this, he says that while he would rather have Dawn, Zoey is cool. Staci gets Max and they fist-bump, and this leaves Anne Maria with Scott, much to their dismay.
In part one of the challenge, the grooms must guide their blindfolded brides to a wedding dress while avoiding several obstacles in the first part of the competition, and if they don't get a dress, they can't move on to the next challenge. Topher tells Sugar not to worry about this, as he is amazing at this. Scott initially messes with Anne Maria, sending her into a pool of pudding, and Anne Maria says that he better stop it, unless he wants to be eliminated.
With Sugar & Topher, Sugar has found the first dress. Sugar suggests sabotaging the other teams, so they can automatically get immunity, which Topher agrees with. Staci & Max are trying to get to a dress, and Max is constantly changing his instructions, as Topher ais moving stuff around to confuse them. Cameron is guiding Zoey when Sugar steals his glasses, which causes him to accidentally send Zoey into a giant cake. Zoey groans at this and asks Cameron what happened. Cameron apologizes and says that it happened because Sugar stole his glasses, which Zoey forcibly takes back.
With Dawn & Bacon, the bear has successfully taken Dawn to the wedding dresses, clinching Dawn’s spot in the next challenge. Scott gets Anne Maria to the wedding dresses successfully, and so does Cameron with Zoey. As Chris says that the first challenge is over, Staci is able to get her wedding dress, annoying Topher & Sugar.
For the second part of the challenge, Chris explains that the grooms must hold their brides on a tightrope as they walk through Niagara Falls — which is packed with hungry sharks below because Chris thought they weren't quite unpleasant enough — and then they must successfully clear customs, saying that the first pair to do so wins invincibility. The mere idea of sharks is making Scott quiver, along with Max & Topher as well. As Sugar & Topher got to the dresses first, they get a head start. As they go by, Sugar trips Zoey for no apparent reason. Topher asks why, and Sugar says that she’s simply trying to get a rise out of Zoey.
Up next is Staci & Max, and the latter is staring at the falls below. Staci asks if he’s alright, and Max says that he feels psyched out by the challenge, as it seems really easy to fall to your death with one misstep. He then regains his breath and Staci starts to carry him on the rope.
Back with Topher & Sugar, Sugar tells Topher to hold on tight. Topher asks what this means, and Sugar slightly shakes the rope from side-to-side, making Staci & Max fall off. Cameron is bewildered by this, as they were just walking fine before. Zoey & Cameron get onto the tightrope next, speeding after the villains while being very wary of the looming threat of the falls.
Dawn & Bacon are next, with the Bear upright, carrying Dawn in her arms. Chris is surprised that anyone could actually find a grizzly bear that would be a good teammate. Bacon walks onto the tightrope, which causes a significant dip that nearly knocks off Scott, Sugar, Cameron, and Dawn. Zoey angrily asks who did this, and Cameron tells her to calm down, as it was just Dawn & the bear, which makes Zoey feel sheepish.
At the front, Sugar & Topher are discussing how they should sabotage everybody else once again when they reach customs. Chef starts to ask the duo some questions, and they are turned back when Chef asks them in which state is it illegal to have a donkey sleep in your bathtub after 7 P.M. Sugar said Texas, but the answer was Oklahoma.
Zoey & Cameron run into Sugar & Topher, and neither side is willing to move. In a bout of anger, Zoey violently shakes the rope, sending Dawn, the bear, Cameron, Topher, & Sugar into the falls. Zoey is mortified at what she has done, and dives in as well, looking for Cameron & Dawn. Scott & Anne Maria are the last ones standing, and carefully cross the rope to customs, where they answer all the questions correctly. Chef asks if they have anything else to say, and Anne Maria says that she’s just glad to be done with the challenge. The contestants in the water are now thankfully in a motorboat that is being driven by the interns, as Chris begrudgingly realizes that the contestants can't die.
Vote anyone sans Scott or Anne Maria, vote somebody for immunity, and feel free to come up with any plot points!

(Sorry for the delay)
"The Disney Corporation has been around longer than most, even alien corps rarely last more than two hundred years before regulation, competition, or innovation eventually figures out a way to wipe them out. Not Disney though, Disney is Eternal." I gesture for the screen to pause like they showed me.
This is the third woman named some variety of Tiffany I'm watching the package on. Tiphany, and Tiffeneigh were before this. It seems like praising Disney corporation was the secret to getting through the AI hiring algorithm, also being phonetically named Tiffany or something really close to it.
The Disney Corp executive producer that Captain Tanner introduced to me to is an android. I always assumed they'd be more... human looking, but apparently there are laws against that sort of thing now. Galactic government, glad to hear it has enough power to enforce things even on Disney corp. This thing looks like a T-800 terminator, but it has a cheery voice that sounds vaguely British to me in a way I can't quite pin down. It seems to have sensed my discomfort at this task.
"It is important that you personally approve of each potential mate. We wish for this process to be enjoyable and more importantly, profitable for everyone involved. Focus groups have told us that Phonetic Tiffany named women will likely help most with that secondary objective. Surely a man of your time wouldn't have issue with such a name."
I had to laugh, "That name's far older than my time. But okay, so it'll make us the most money to have her be named Tiffany somehow. Fine, I'm fine with that." I am, right? Fine enough. Whatever gets me out of this time and into a better future seems worth it.
I finished watching Tiffany's Video, and watch Typhuny next. Then Tiophughny. Then Taoifenieh. Then I lost it. They were all so the same. Slight variations in hair color and skin tone or eye color, but these women were all essentially clones of each other.
"THATS IT! I can't take another one of these." It was too weird. "I thought the Captain said there were Aliens out there, Is that part at least a little star trek like? Aren't there alien women that want to romance rich famous humans?"
The Producertron-800 made a noise like an ancient modem connecting to the internet for a moment. I must have had a look on my face, because it said, "Do not be alarmed, I am only contacting Disney corp headquarters on my internal high speed quantum Modem."
"Not alarmed, surprised." I guess it's the same thing, really. "You just, sounded like an old modem for a moment. So what does headquarters say, can I try to romance an alien woman too?"
"This will be even more profitable than if you try with human women." replied the Disney Rep.
Captain Tanner went over the contract, and set out some objectives to get a few changes made. I trusted him and approved him to be my representative in those negotiations with Disney. I had apparently made him and his ancestors rich, and myself as well. He didn't have any reason to treat me poorly. In fact it was in his own selfish interest to treat me well, and if there anything I knew I could count on from the people of this time, was that most of them would selfishly act in their own interest.
The Doctor had been taking me to meals. He was a rare weirdo in this time, charitable, kind, expected nothing in return. Probably helped that he was also the beneficiary of some ancient bank accounts and compound interest.
After a week of hanging out on the HSS Davis-Catcher, yes, a ship made specifically to catch me and the Zipdrive, I was sent to the set for the space bachelor. It was another ship in space. We took a shuttle.
The captain had done a good job in his negotiations, only humanoid aliens and a couple of human women. There was a cat-folk person. A Felidian, as I learned they are called. I wasn't a huge anime guy before becoming an astronaut, but I calls them like I see's them. That's a catgirl. Her name is Tiffnyany.
I felt bad for not being attracted to one of the other aliens. Terraphiny was a really sweet Turtle-person, a Cyptrondian Testudian. She could pull her head inside her shell, and watching her get comfortable enough to put it out and talk was kind of super adorable. They're a pretty literal people, and don't use euphemisms often or well. I liked her as a person, she was fun to hang out with sure but... I couldn't do it when she ask me if I wanted "To get up inside her cloaca" one night in the hot tub. Surprisingly huge turn off. I apologized profusely for my ancient old-timey racism. She told me it was fine, I was a product of a different time... but man that only made it cut deeper. I felt like such an asshole. But we were contractually obligated to 'engage in newly wed activities' during the next two hundred years, or what would be our wedding night, I just couldn't with Turtle girl.
In the end, I gave the diamondillium rose to Tiffnyany. She was also lots of fun to spend time with. Unlike the reality shows of my time, the producers did not have to interfere for there to be juicy drama. One of the other women on the show, the first to go, was a dog-person. She and the catgirl got into a fight, and it was determined that she started it, and she was kicked off. Later, the catgirl almost killed what I am going to generously call a bird with lips that had been taunting her for days. They let me decide who would stay, and bird lady had to go.
Six weeks had flown by, and somehow I had ended up with what I would have derisively called a catgirl waifu two months ago from my perspective. The wedding was a whole giant spectacle, of Disney proportions. I hear over ten billion sapient beings tuned in live.
In the eight weeks since I had arrived in this time time they had gone far beyond a 'retrofit' for my Zipdrive ship. Nyany, as I learned she preferred to be called but I couldn't legally call her on the show, and I boarded the ship. Captain Tanner was there, so was the doc. Captain tanner went over all the new systems with me and Nyany. Part of why I chose her was that she was a warp field engineer, and absolutely brilliant. One of the human women was a quantum computer programmer, but If we ended up in a future that sucked, I'd want an engineer more than a programmer.
Nyany was far more comfortable at the ship's controls than I was, though contractually I had to be the one to pilot us to the starting position when we launched from space dock. I also had to be the one to push the big shiny red button to activate the updated and upgraded Zipdrive. It was now the RarDrive. Apparently this version worked on the same principles but didn't leak high levels of exotic radiation in it's wake. Probably worth the upgrade.
What felt like an eternity in a fever dream was coming to an end, I was aboard a ship again that would take me from this time. The doctor gave us both a couple of injections before we launched. "That'll probably work. You two oughta be able to have kids now. Gene therapy tech is really the best."
I hadn't even considered that as a possibility. "Shit doc, why did you give us that?"
"It's in your contract," Captain Tanner said. "Subsection 3 of this part here, 'Newly-wed activities must include the threat of potential pregnancy', for maximum profit extraction purposes, of course. We got three points for me and my firm and seven for you and Misses Davis.
"I didn't take his name." Nyany said, "In our culture men take the women's name. We decided to both keep our own. I am still Tiffnyany Pantigris."
"Systems check complete, and the contract is ready for each of your thumbprints, then we'll get out of your hair and let you get on with the honeymoon." The captain had a smile on his face, a business deal that's beneficial to all is a rare thing, and he's enjoying it while he can.
"Probably best to try to forget about us out there watching your every move." The doctor said as he packed up his kit and made his way to the docking port to take the shuttle back.
We moved into position, all the press ships and camera flashes a guy could want greeted us. With Nyany sitting behind me quietly whispering guidance to me I pulled us into position and waited for the countdown from Captain Tanner on his ship.
Finally it got down to "Three, Two, One. Godspeed, Captain Davis!"
The drive exploded us through the rainbow, painfully bright. I had had the foresight to warn my bride that it would hurt to witness, but be beautiful all the same. When it was done we were given the soft shimmery golden light that I experienced outside the ship the first time.
I'm sure you want the gritty kitty details of our nuptial situation, but you gotta pay extra for that. What I will tell you though is that we fulfilled out contractual obligations. Also, a satisfied catgirl will purr as she lays on your chest afterward. I dunno if I made trillions during that time, but I sure felt like a trillion bucks.
The honeymoon day that took two hundred years was over all too soon.
The same long dead woman's voice chimed onto the speakers.
"Nine."
"Eight."
.
.
.
"Three."
"Two."
"One."
We slammed through the rainbow again, only in reverse order of yesterday's launch two hundred years ago.
There were no fireworks this time, no heroes greeting. Only a singular massive grey slab of an obvious warship waiting for us.
They hailed and I answered. "Greetings Capitalist pigdog of the past. You are under arrest for crimes against the regime. Prepare to be boarded."
I looked at Nyany, and she looked at me. "Hit the red button again?" she asked. There was fear evident in her voice, and as I reached out to hit the big red button and launch us off for another day.
Engine power failure
"There is no escape Comrade, unlimited space communism rules the day here, we have seized the means of your power production." The communist captain said.
And then a tractor beam attached.

I think it was Jack's idea. Or maybe it was Mindy who came up with it. You know, if I do try and really think about it .. well, maybe it could've actually even been me who decided we play it. I've spent hours trying to pierce my memory back together, more to pass the time and distract myself.. But it's all irrelevant, It doesn't matter now. Maybe it never did.
Mabel was turning 30 and it was up to us to plan the party. We were all nostalgic about childhood memories so we decided to go all out - Frogs in the pond (jelly cups with Freddo frogs), hot dogs and fairy bread, and we wrapped up prizes in newspaper for pass the parcel. Pin the tail on the donkey and Twister were set up ready to play, the spice girls were blaring on Spotify.
Mabel's eyes lit up when she walked into the room and her smile was worth all the effort we put in. We danced and played games, and as the sun started to set and it grew darker outside, someone suggested turning off the lights snd playing murder in the dark.
There were ohh's and ahh's, laughter as people remembered a game they most likely hadn't played since primary school. A collective chatter amongst us in agreeance to playing Someone handed out cards, while were told the rules of the game. And then the lights were tuned out.
For those of you who don't recall, these are the basic premise of the games rules -
You'll need - Pack of cards
Instructions - Sort through a deck of cards and find the following - an Ace, a Jack, a King, a Queen, and number cards for the amount of remaining people. (i.e.-if six people were playing, you would need two number cards.)
Each card means something - the Ace is the murderer, the Jack is the detective, the King is the detective if the Jack dies, and the Queen is the detective if the Jack and the King both die. The number cards just walk around for the beginning of the game.
Tell the players that all they need to worry about for the time being is if they get the Ace. Give a card to everyone. Nobody looks at each other's cards. Once they have their cards and have seen them, put them down somewhere out of the way for the next round.
Turn off all the lights so that it's completely dark. Everyone begins to spread out and walk about slowly, and try not to laugh or talk. Players aren't allowed to stick together in this game. During this time, the murderer is seeking 'victims'. When she/he finds someone alone, they quietly brush their shoulder and whisper, "You're dead." As an alternative, the murderer could clamp their hand over the persons mouth to avoid the person screaming, and then whisper "You're Dead".
The dead player drops to the ground, dead, and can not speak or move. The murderer may or may not hide the person they just killed in a hiding place. It is not advisable, however, due to the risk involved in getting caught. When a player sees a person lying down, they ask, "Are you dead?" The person simply nods 'yes' or shakes their head 'no', but they must tell the truth. If they nod, the person who found them shouts "Murder in the Dark!" and the lights are put on.
The murderer may not murder victims any longer and all the alive players assemble where the dead person was found. The players who are not present are noted as dead. The detective sits in a chair in front of all the others who are on the floor. He/she asks questions to each person. (i.e. where were you when someone yelled Murder in the Dark? Who do you think is the murderer and why? etc.)
When the detective has enough information and think they are ready, they say "Final Accusation" and ask one person-"Are you the murderer?" It is very important that the person answers TRUTHFULLY at the final accusation. If they are the murderer, then they must say yes. If correct players pick new cards and the game starts again. If wrong then turn out the lights and carry on.
Our rules were a bit different though. It was added in that it would be a last man standing game instead. We wouldn't have a detective - we would have a murderer, murderees and possibly one lone survivor. If someone did survive -Whoever who was still alive when the egg timer went off in 60 minutes - would be the winner. If the murderer had successfully killed everyone and there were no 'survivors' - than they had won the game.
I'll admit, it was spooky. There's just something unnerving about being in a room full of people that you cannot see but you can feel their body heat or hear them breathing. I began to walk around softly, careful to make as less noise as possible. As I wasn't the killer - I had no 'good card' I was just a waiting victim, so I wanted to hide and try and bide my time staying alive as long as possible. It didn't take long to find the first 'body'. I could tell it was Mabel from the way the long blonde hair trailed along the carpet. I whispered "Are you dead?" And I guess she mustn't have heard me because I didn't see her nod.
I moved on quickly, going into the spare bedroom. I didn't risk shutting the door behind me, I just went to hide under the bed. There was a body already under there though, I felt the warmness of human skin as I clambered under the mattress, my hand recoiling in shock as I brushed up against someone's leg. I didn't bother to ask whether they were dead, I mean I guess it was cheating a bit, but we were alone, and they were certainly doing a good enough job of playing dead it seemed just silly to ask.
I heard the muffled scream down towards the other end of the house, - the first 'victim' I'd heard to make any noise - and knew it was safe to make my move out of the bedroom to a better spot.
I nearly tripped on the bodies that were splayed out on the floor, in the hallway and the kitchen. Whoever had the murderer card was certainly taking the game seriously and playing to the best of their ability. I had yet to come across anyone else walking around and was starting to think I might actually have a chance of winning, depending on how much longer was on the egg timer, of course.
I made a beeline to the kitchen to check how much time we had, it honestly felt like the game had gone on forever - and I was shocked to feel the broken pieces of the egg timer on the kitchen bench. I looked at the clock on the microwave - the green numbers burning into my eyes. We had been playing for over three hours.
Something didn't feel quite right.
I tiptoed back into the hall to Mabel, leaning down to whisper to her that we'd been playing way too long - but then I felt something wet and slippery on my hands when I knelt down next to her. It was blood. I stifled a scream as my hands roamed and I realised the birthday girl had had her head caved in.
I backed away slowly, tears streaming down my face as I quietly made my way to the front door. I let myself out and ran across the road, banging on the neighbours door while constantly glancing behind me to see if I was being chased.
The neighbours nearly fainted when they saw me covered in blood and screaming, but they calmed me down by showing me they had double locked their door and called the police.
They don't know who killed all my friends. Everyone who was meant to be at the party was still in the house - slaughtered.
It's taken so much therapy and I'm still not sleeping at night. I wish I could go back and help my friends. I didn't know, but the blame remains.
I got a letter in the mail today though. It was a congratulations card, and written inside said 'last one standing - winner winner - care to rematch, Afterall the last game was so fun! I'll see you soon, when darkness comes.'
So my advice, don't play childhood games. They could have dire consequences.

2 years ago I was up to no good. I was involved in bad things and kept almost getting caught and somehow I kept staying out of trouble. I had a weird feeling I was being looked over. I started getting more into God bc who else would it be? I’ve always believed but after doing research and reading his word - I knew Christianity was where I was being led to. I was baptized as a Catholic when I was very young and I didn’t agree or want to be apart of it. So I’m learning more and more finding myself getting closer to god and believing more than I ever have when one night at 3am I get a message from a blank/private Instagram saying: “your time is coming, you need to get closer to God!”. Like I said - I was up to no good, I thought this was a threat on my life and someone was after me.
I replied “who is this and what does that mean? Should I take this as a threat? Or is this something else?”.
He replied “No, my name is _____ you may not remember me, but we went to school together 6th/7th grade. (15 years before this).”
I said “dude, i don’t ever remember being a bully - if I ever embarrassed you or belittled you, I am sorry. That’s not who I am at all we were only 12.”
His response: “no you weren’t. Unlike __, _, and ____ (my 3 good friends at the time) you were the only one that was nice to me and would talk to me. I was at my church tonight and during prayer your name popped in my head and I was told to message you. I want you to be saved and get closer to Christ.”
Now, 2 years later we talk everyday, speak on the phone, pray for one another and I’m so happy bc just as I’m looking to get closer to my religion side, this happens.
BUT!!!! - then i get up to get dressed for bed, I have been drinking and I’m sending him a response and I feel a tap on my shoulder and I hear something hit the floor. I turn around and this silver ball was on the ground behind me. The only thing behind me was my asleep girlfriend and a bed.
THEN!!!! - we get back home (we were in Colorado for her sisters wedding) and I was flipping a house at the time and after demolition in the basement, there was another SILVER BALL sitting on the window and I never noticed it.
Sorry for the length. If you take the time to read thank you. I think it’s a beautiful story and I’m curious if anyone has some hypothesis about the silver balls. They are dense!

My (34F) and my fiancé (26M) are doing a very small wedding, courthouse adjacent with our parents, our one brother each, those few who would be in the wedding party, and their dates. Total of 22 people involved. Someone who we’d consider a groomsman is also saying the ceremony. We are following it up with a small seated dinner and then opening a tab at a local bar for any friends and family to join us as the “reception” (yes we are giving the bar plenty of advance notice).
My brother had a semi-messy divorce a few years ago. He is a great dad but neither he nor his wife were good partners to each other. They have two kids (4M & 3F) and share 50/50 custody. They will be our ring beareflower girl as we happened to pick a weekend that is naturally my brother’s with the kids.
I did not know his now ex until they started dating, but we became friends. I was a bridesmaid and attended her bachelorette. We’ve kept in touch a bit but it’s definitely her reaching out more. She has been manipulative in the past with my mom, trying to get info on how my brother is doing with work and has talked about trying to take him back to court for more money, so I avoid conversations when possible but am always very friendly in my replies. Info: one of the reasons they split is because she is very financially irresponsible; my brother pays for all of their kids sports even if they are ones not on his days and makes sure that they are not noticing a different lifestyle between the two houses.
the problem: my brother (and mom) do not want her invited to the little ceremony. She’s been known to make sure everyone knows they are “her kids” at joint events and the kids are less behaved/more emotional when she is around. They will cling to her because they know they will get attention while they would be more independent and social if she were not there.
I feel that it’s mean to not invite her, as her kids are part of the ceremony. I’m also getting regular texts from her asking if wedding plans are progressing. She asked about a bachelorette (I’m not having one) and seems very excited to attend a wedding that she has not been invited to (zero formal invites went out; we asked our little tribe in person).
I sent a message to my mom and brother today to give them a heads up that she was asking me again today and that the kids have been telling her they get to dress up for my wedding when as far as she knows there isn’t one planned yet. I let her know today that we are planning this tiny little thing (didn’t give a date) and she mentioned the kids will be disappointed since they wanted to dress up for my wedding.
My brother responded that I should tell her the whole truth and that she just isn’t invited. I told him it’s mean to not invite her and I’m only not because it’s his preference and so he should have to deal with that conversation. Also for info, when the ex first heard from the kids that I’m getting married and they would be part of it, she was doing a handoff with my mom, who panicked and said no plans were made even though they were.
AITAH to her if I don’t include her or and I the AH to my brother (and the kids who won’t have as much fun; and I guess me since it will alter their ability to be in the wedding) if I say she can come?

Reflecting on 2021, truly marked the zenith of my young career. The pandemic was coming to an end, I was fresh from the hallowed halls of a prestigious but unheralded college, thrust into the corporate labyrinth where, as a mere sidekick to the big shots, I contributed to a deal of record-breaking magnitude. My modest corporate minion life was exaggerated into legend by my professors during an alumni reunion, leading to a rather embarrassing episode where I was paraded around as the poster child of their education career’s success. My parents, not ones to shy away from a bit of pomp, lauded my achievements to anyone within earshot.
But as 2022 unfurled its chaos with the epidemic, my professional life spiralled downwards as swiftly as it had risen. I was laid off, and replaced by a nepotistic hire—my boss's new mistress's nephew. During my dismal final days, my colleagues, once comrades became corporate sharks, whispers of them scheming to claim my last efforts as their own filled the empty office spaces.
Compelled by financial duress to abandon my central city dwelling, I relocated to the outskirts with two college mates, Jaz and Kath, who had similarly found themselves victims of the economic downturn. We settled into apartment 606, a unit with dubious charm, suspiciously affordable on the 13th floor of a dreary building, its corridor haunted by a flickering sensor light that was only designed to function on rare occasions. Yet, the apartment itself was surprisingly very well furnished, almost like something that jumped out from a design mag, out beating sample rooms in Ikea, boasting a spacious balcony, a living room ready for an impromptu soirée, a dining table that’s good enough to hold a banquet(became our co-working space) and a kitchen isle that became our sanctuary and curse.
When we first settled into our new abode, we discovered a trove of fine kitchen utensils, perfect for whipping up sophisticated cuisine and crafting cocktails worthy of a swanky soirée. Tucked away in the fridge, among the remnants of the previous tenants' life, was a quaint note: “The three of us really enjoyed our stay here, especially our meals and nights spent by the kitchen island. We hope you find as much joy in it as we did. Use it well.” With a casual flick of my wrist, I dismissed the note into the garbage can, oblivious to the depth of its seemingly innocuous message. Little did I know, that piece of paper was more a passing of the torch than a simple goodbye.
Our initial days in apartment 606 brimmed with camaraderie and impromptu celebrations: movie nights sprawled on the living room sofas, barbeque dinners under the stars on our balcony, and co-working sessions at the dining table, peppered with resume tweaks and contemplative conversations over cocktails. We even scored a second-hand karaoke machine, allowing me to channel my inner diva—a throwback to my musical theatre days in college and my stint as the voice of corporate presentations and negotiations at my previous job, where I was known for my resonant yet finely tuned voice.
Yet, as the months wore on and the job market remained unyielding, our early merriment slowly surrendered to a creeping anxiety. The kitchen island, once the heart of our home where laughter and shared meals flowed freely, gradually morphed into the epicenter of our collective unease, bearing silent witness to the quiet desperation settling over us.
One evening, in the suspiciously affordable yet stylish apartment, I sank into the sofa, my spirits dampened by my favorite team's disheartening loss. The mood was grim, mirroring my fears of my beloved player's potential retirement at season's end. Later, as we congregated around the kitchen island for dinner, I transformed into an impromptu sports commentator, passionately preaching about the game’s disappointing details that led to failure and my favorite player’s fine qualities. Meanwhile, Jaz updated us on a friend's melodramatic breakup, with guesses that something ugly must have happened behind the scenes. Kath, ever the culinary enthusiast, not only served up her delicious pasta but also dished out the latest celebrity gossip, each tidbit as spicy as her sauce.
The next day, during a late breakfast at the same kitchen island—our unwitting oracle—we were hit by a triple whammy of reality checks. The news of my favorite player's retirement broke, echoing my gloomy predictions from the night before. Jaz chimed in with an update that our friend had uncovered a cheating scandal worthy of its own reality TV special. And Kath, never one to be left out of the drama: her favorite celebrity was now the star of a scandal.
By the third morning, as we sipped our coffee, the newspaper slapped me with another bizarre twist. I was going through the devastating economics and politics sections, then I saw the sports section——featured an irate coach, hell-bent on convincing my favorite player to dismiss retirement plans and keep his jersey on a little longer. Meanwhile, Jaz had good news for a change: it turned out our friend's love story might have a second act after all, as misunderstandings were being cleared up. Amidst these revelations, Kath, who had been grumbling about the nearby supermarket’s inability to stock anything remotely gourmet, and hadn’t had a taste of her favorite Blue Mountain coffee since the beginning of that year, triumphantly found a can of Blue Mountain coffee, and it was on sale and therefore affordable—proof that miracles happen, and sometimes they even go on discount.
As I sat there, absorbing the serendipity of our discussions manifesting into real-world events, I couldn't help but marvel at the mysterious knack of our kitchen island. Was it merely a coincidence, or had this stylish piece of decor become the unlikely conductor of our lives symphony? One thing was certain: life in apartment 606 was never dull, and our kitchen island seemed to be more than just a place to eat—it was a place where, apparently, you could stir the pot of fate.
I decided to conduct a whimsical experiment with our now seemingly magical kitchen island. Clearing my throat theatrically, I declared, "I should be interviewed for a director position." To my sheer astonishment, the next day a headhunter rang me up, claiming I was the ideal candidate for a directorial role at a prestigious corporation in my field. Despite the other candidates possessing decades more experience which defeated me with no effort, and my own lingering self-doubt from months of unemployment, I sailed to the final interview round with the company's executives.
Upon returning to our apartment, I found Kath flaunting a chic dress from a designer brand brand she’d snagged on clearance—a little luxury courtesy of our wish-granting island. Inspired, I approached the island and cheekily requested, "Get us jobs. Something fun." Lo and behold, the following day was spent lounging and binge-watching Netflix, only to be interrupted by a call from a former bigwig at my old job. He was venturing into a more illustrious company and wanted me onboard. The informal chat that followed was a breeze, and just like that, I was back in the game with a fancier title and a fatter paycheck.
The subsequent week was a flurry of celebrations. Jaz secured a senior-level position, and Kath landed her dream job at an influencer management agency. Feeling triumphant, we decided to indulge in a night of fine dining—our first in months. That Friday evening when I went from office to restaurant, on a whim, stopped at a convenience store to grab snacks and cigarettes for our post-dinner revelry. Outside, I encountered a homeless person. After offering him a sandwich (which he traded for a cigarette instead), he took a drag, peered into my eyes, and ominously muttered, “Look, young lady, this isn’t my business, but be wary of what you wish for; everything comes with a price. Good luck and god bless you.”
His words barely registered until later that evening when a mishap occurred that seemed to underline his warning. As we enjoyed syphon coffee post-dinner, a barista accidentally tripped over Kath’s flowing dress. The resulting spill left her with first-degree burns, abruptly ending our night as we rushed to the emergency room. Though it was "just" a first-degree burn, the pain was significant enough to require several days off for Kath’s recovery. Amid the drama, I couldn't help but wonder about the cryptic caution from the man outside the store—had our fortunate streak come with a hidden cost?
We chalked up the coffee calamity to bad luck. The next month flowed smoothly: Kath's fingers healed, she returned to work, and I quickly found my groove at the new job. With all of us gainfully employed, our communal meals at the kitchen island became rare. My mornings were a whirlwind of grabbing breakfast and coffee on the go, followed by an hour's commute to a job that had me scarfing down instant noodles by nightfall, just in time for a quick shower.
As the busy season kicked in, my workload ballooned—not just from the seasonal uptick, but because I was hell-bent on proving my mettle. I quickly outshone most of my peers, and my employer, recognizing a budding overachiever, piled on major tasks, which I eagerly accepted. What started as the occasional hour of overtime soon devoured my weekends. Unpaid overtime, as the fine print in my contract gleefully noted, became my new norm. Driven by a mix of ambition and expectation, I had become the go-to young hotshot, the erstwhile record-breaker now expected to continually outdo myself.
Mentally, I was too swamped to entertain thoughts of anything beyond work, which, in a twisted way, felt like a break. Physically, however, the strain began to show. A bout of flu caught on a business trip escalated into a fever. Sick as I was, deadlines waited for no one, and I soldiered on medicated and miserable. By the time I made it home, my voice had abandoned me. Unable to utter a word the next morning, I resorted to emailing my manager about my sorry state.
That week, robbed of my voice, I mused that it was perhaps a well-deserved hiatus for my overworked vocal cords—a silent retreat if you will. But when my voice did return, it was as a raspy whisper, a shadow of its former crisp and melodious timbre. My doctor offered a grim prognosis: slight improvement might come, but the golden tones were gone for good—scarred by the relentless grind. Ah, the price of ambition—a scratchy throat as a permanent reminder of my corporate conquests.
It seemed I had unwittingly exchanged the clarity of my voice for the tumult of career success. In the midst of our domestic enchantment with the possibly mystical kitchen island, Kath unearthed the contact of a reputed psychic, hailed as the finest in the land. However, the consultation fee was nothing short of princely, and with Jaz vehemently dismissing anything that couldn't be explained by cold, hard science, she promptly opted out of splitting the bill. Kath and I, unwilling to drain our wallets on what could be mere phantasmagoria, reluctantly let the opportunity pass.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t help but notice a curious change in Jaz’s routine. She had ceased dining at the kitchen island, avoiding it as if it were cursed—or perhaps, in her view, simply out of style. The Saturday morning brought a particularly harsh twist: a murder of crows took to spiralling above our balcony, their cries as sharp as the plot of a Poe novel. We found ourselves drawn to the infamous kitchen island, lined up like the cast of a macabre play, silently praying for the birds to disperse. Kath, ever trying to restore some semblance of normalcy, offered up cups of Blue Mountain coffee. She absentmindedly inquired if I wanted cream or sugar in mine—a blunder that made me realize just how long it had been since our last coffee klatch at this very spot. My inner monologue couldn't resist a dark wish for the crows to scatter, perhaps too dark, for they began to dive bomb our balcony in a feathery kamikaze. The spectacle was enough to knock Jaz off her feet—literally—as her mug met its end on the floor. Kath, meanwhile, made a hasty retreat to worship the porcelain god, and I sat frozen, my brain offline, pondering the twisted power of our kitchen island's apparent wish-granting.
After the unnerving spectacle of crows turning our balcony into a scene straight out of a Hitchcock film, our first rational step—post-collective fainting, of course—was to summon cleaners to manage the feathery carnage. Then, still rattled but increasingly curious, we visited a psychic, who, contrary to the crystal-ball-gazer image, operated out of a posh boutique in a high-end mall and dressed more like she was headed to a fashion show than a séance. We laid bare our saga of the seemingly cursed kitchen island, complete with photographic evidence of where domestic bliss meets eerie phenomena.
The psychic introduced a term that chilled the air around us: “limbo,” the threshold between our world and the otherworldly, and she dubbed our kitchen island the "Devil’s Bargain Counter." According to her, our wishes came with a heavy and unpredictable price, because we have accidentally started trades with beings from the netherworld. Her advice was disarmingly simple: cease all trades on the island. To address the repercussions of past wishes, she advised us the first line of defence, which was an eclectic mix of offerings laid out on our cursed countertop: raw meat(rooster works the best), a cocktail of spices(coca and cinnamon preferably), liberal splashes of spirits(whiskey and rum ideally), and an eerie bouquet of black flowers(luckily I found some black roses at a flower shop of the mall). In a grander gesture of appeasement, Kath relinquished her shiny new diamond bracelet, Jaz her absurdly expensive headphones, and I parted with cash—— a hefty slice of my bonus in hopes of placating whatever capricious spirits we'd angered.
Our return to normalcy was brief but sweet, prompting us to plan a getaway, eager to forget about our nefarious kitchen island. Yet, the respite was merely a tease. Jaz, in a stroke of spectacular misfortune, narrowly dodged disaster twice in one day—first nearly becoming subway track fodder on her way back after work, and then almost getting knocked out by a rogue plant at our apartment building’s doorstep. Clearly, our previous offerings were mere appetizers to whatever forces we'd stirred. The psychic, summoned once again to our now-dubious sanctuary, decreed that the spirits had developed rather expensive tastes, unsatisfied by our initial gestures.
In a desperate bid for closure, we had the psychic over for a nighttime ritual, timed perfectly with Earth's closest approach to the netherworld, according to her. Our living room turned into a ritual chamber, with windows blacked out for days, to keep the otherworldly dealings strictly nocturnal. That night, we arranged ourselves around the island, now less a kitchen fixture and more an altar of last resort.
The psychic, amidst a chorus of Latin incantations, directed us through a chilling séance that included a mirror that reflected nothing but darkness and a burning black candle, the three of us sat in a row, joined hands, eyes closed. When the black candle was flickering at its last, the first eerie scratches heard prompted our eyes to open prematurely, we saw a command appear on the island, written by invisible hand and pen, in blood-red script, urging us to find the next "succeeder" before our lease on otherworldly disturbances could be terminated.
With bated breath, we agreed, and as if by magic, our signatures materialized on the countertop, then faded as the candle sputtered out. We tore off the black cardboard taped on the windows at dawn, the sunrise revealed a final message etched into the surface: "Debt cleared." As the daylight grew, the ominous inscription dissolved into nothingness, signalling the end of our spectral saga.
The ordeal, now officially behind us, left us enjoying a semblance of normalcy: life in 606 returned to its mundane rhythm, with dinners and movie nights back on our social calendar. Though not without its scars—literal and figurative.
It’s been two years since then, Jaz, in the throes of romantic bliss, is now gearing up for a new chapter waiting to be written alongside her soon-to-be spouse; Kath, her career finally taking a lucrative turn, was poised to upgrade her living situation, she secured a lease on a lavish serviced apartment in the city center—a place that matched her newfound financial swagger.
I’m not without my own leaps forward. With a modest boost from my parents, I took the plunge into homeownership, snagging a property within the city’s vibrant confines. The process was a whirlwind of paperwork and decorating decisions, culminating in a space I could truly call my own.
As we are packing up now, my last act is to type out our story, at the infamous island, and of course, I left a note in the fridge for the next tenants:
"Welcome to 606. We had a wonderful time here, especially at the kitchen island, filled with joy and unforgettable moments. We hope you find as much happiness as we did. Use the isle well. Warm wishes, the previous tenants."

Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road
High above in her hiding spot, Zildiz had heard enough. The Leapers were her kindred’s most hated of adversaries, and she could not allow them to gain even a fraction of the grey behemoth’s awesome might. An apocalyptic vision arose in her mind of titanic Leaper variants towering over the rooftops of Chthonis, setting the Parchment City alight with beams of all-destroying light emanating from their many eyes.
Four against one. Those were slim odds even under the best of circumstances. Still, she had the element of surprise, and ambush predators were often unaccustomed to being preyed upon themselves. But Leapers were notoriously difficult opponents to sneak up on as they literally had eyes on the backs of their heads. But Zildiz was a veteran of countless border skirmishes, and had learned of a small blind spot in their vision. It was above and slightly behind the axis of their posterior lateral median eyes. But many Gallivants who had tried to make their first kill that way did not survive to tell the tale—the flutter of their wings gave them away. She would have to drop straight down on her first target. No hesitation, no second chances.
She saw the alpha Leaper lean down to extract the prey-form’s gilt helix, and saw her opening.
Rene heard a branch snap somewhere above him and felt a gust of wind blow across his neck, bearing with it droplets of moisture that pattered lightly against the visor of his mask. His first thought was that it had started to rain. He glanced up at the monster to find that it had extruded a new mouthpart, some manner of sharp, serrated tongue whose tip oozed a wet and viscous fluid. Rene flinched reflexively, expecting at any moment to feel the point punching through his skull before draining out its contents like a straw. But then the blade twisted sharply, wrenching its way out of the back of the monster’s head and drenching Rene’s mask in a shower of gore, the four-eyed devil letting out a wet gurgle as it slumped over in a twitching heap.
Pawing at his mask with his bound wrists, Rene peered through his smeared vision and saw a figure standing atop the corpse that, if anything, possessed an even less lovely countenance than his erstwhile interlocutor. A bulbous compound eye stared back Rene like a shattered mirror, a thousand miniscule reflections of himself repeating across its scaly lenses.
Rene recognized the creature as one of the harpies from earlier. One of its broad wings was missing. It drew its bloodstained blade across its mandibles, casually licking the weapon clean as an eight-limbed devil leapt at the harpy from behind, letting loose a bloodcurdling scream. But the harpy did not even turn at the sound, merely pointing its other blade arm behind it and letting its attacker impale itself upon it, clean through. With its dying spasms the devil pulled itself up the length of the blade in an effort to reach the harpy, even as its two kin recovered from their surprise and pounced at the harpy from either side. What followed was a blur of movement almost too quick for the human eye to follow as the harpy spun in place, cleaving the monster on the left halfway through its sternum. In the same movement it turned the devil stuck on the end of its blade into the path of the attacker on the right, using it as a living shield. The impact still bowled the harpy over, all four of the combatants rolling on the ground in a ball of threshing limbs and furious struggle.
The din was horrendous. Siezing the golden opportunity which had presented itself, Rene reached once more for the sword of the ancients, stretching his sinews for all they were worth. It was just enough to let him pinch the pommel-button between his middle and forefingers. Raising it up in spite of his trembling, sweat-slick grip, Rene coaxed the hilt into palm of his waiting hand, then pounded the button against his chest, feeling the sword come alive in his hands. As the fight raged on behind him, Rene sliced his legs free. He tucked in his head as he hit the ground, rolling onto his arse and reversing his grip on the sword, swiftly cutting the bonds around his wrists. When he tried to stand, however, he found that his legs were still unresponsive, all the blood within them having flowed up to his torso during his time spent hanging upside down. Pounding the life back into the clammy flesh of his calves with his fist, Rene looked anxiously around and discovered that the battle had since moved elsewhere, leaving two black-furred corpses in its wake. Cries of rage and a frenzied shaking among the bushes allowed him to guess where the other monsters were. He hoisted himself to his feet, picked up the safety kit and staggered away from the sounds of fighting, pins and needles still numbing the soles of his feet.
As he stepped over the dead bodies in his path, Rene was just about to congratulate himself on a smooth escape when his toes snagged on something and he tripped, going down heavily on his side. Rene felt a powerful yank on his ankle and looked to see the previously impaled monster glaring up at him. It wriggled on its belly and pulled him closer with one hand while it held in its spilled guts with the other three. By the ancestors, was it strong! Rene hacked at the hand holding his foot and lopped it off at the forearm, feeling only the slightest tug of resistance as the edge sheared through bone and meat alike. The hand was still clamped shut about his ankle with a death grip as he stood back up.
The fiend’s back arched as it brought its vile hump of flesh to the fore, dozens of sucking orifices on its misshapen surface spreading open wide.
Thwip! Thwip!
Jets of silk flew out of the spinnerets, the monster using its claws to grasp the threads and shuttering them back and forth like the shuttles of a loom. Cords flicked out and ensnared Rene’s sword arm, pinning it to his side while the weaver applied a lightning-fast field dressing on its abdominal wound, closing off both ends with wads of its makeshift bandage. Rene strained mightily against the loops of silk, but they never budged an inch. Meanwhile, the monster raked him with its claws, opening bright lines of agony across his chest and shoulder. Rene bit back a scream and dropped the sword point-first into the soil. It sank quivering up to its hilt, leaving him completely defenseless as the monster jumped and snatched him up in its gangly embrace. Rene fell to one knee as its weight bore him to the earth, reaching out with his free hand to draw the sword out of the ground and cleave through its rows of hairy legs.
Severed limbs went rolling every which way, the black devil tottering. Yet as it fell its outer mouthparts seized Rene by the temples and pinned him in place as it bit right into his face. Venomed fangs skittered across the transparent surface of his mask, scoring it with deep scratches. To his amazement the crystal held strong and did not shatter—once more the materials of the ancients had proven their incredible durability. Rene worked his arm clear and chopped wildly at the monster’s arms, felt its hold on him slacken as they fell away, leaving only spurting stumps. The butchered devil fell on its humped back and began shrieking its head off.
Rene raised his sword to deliver the coup de grace but was interrupted by the sudden reemergence of the other combatants who burst back onto the scene. The harpy was grappling with one of the devils, quickly being overpowered by its brute strength. As the devil sank its fangs into the bulging pair of compound eyes and tore off the top of the harpy’s head, the latter found an opening and slipped both its blades through in tight uppercutting motions, ramming them under the devil’s chin and out the other end. Ripping outwards and across with its arms the harpy tore its enemy’s head apart and sent the soggy chunks scattering into the treetops.
Reeling in obvious pain, it kicked the body aside and took off with a shutter of its wings, attempting an escape. A feral scream split the air as, the last devil leapt up to intercept it, entrails dangling in the place of its missing lower body. Devoid of sanity or self-preservation, it tacked the rising harpy and sent both of them crashing into a stout branch. They fell back to the earth with a bone-crunching thump, followed by a confetti-shower of dead leaves shaken from their stems.
Rene looked back at his enemy and saw the devil stubbornly gathering itself up for another spring. All it had left were a single arm and leg apiece, that and a merciless glitter in its eyes.
“You can’t be serious,” he complained, and put an end to its efforts by splitting its head right down the middle. Rene shook his head in disbelief and went over to polish off the other two, snipping his webbed arm loose as he did. He found the bisected devil crawling on its elbows and mewling with pain as it wriggled towards the unmoving body of the harpy, clearly intending to finish what it had started.
There were eyes on the back of its head, Rene now noticed. Four of them, the same number as on the front. It saw him coming and rolled over, raising its arms to shield itself.
Rene’s boot came stomping down all the same. He felt its head crunching under his heel as he squashed it into a flattened pie and was nauseated. Rene then approached the harpy, eyeing its blade arms warily and giving it a wide berth. He didn’t want to get anywhere near those frightful things, not after what he’d seen. Instead he went over to a fallen log and cut himself an oversized club from one of its boughs. Sticking the sword back into the ground, he hefted the length of wood over the harpy, intending to smash its head in from a distance.
He felt strangely squeamish at prospect of another head going splat. A wave of dizziness came over him and he had to take a moment to collect himself, doubling over and beginning to dry heave. Leaning heavily on the bough like a staff, he examined the harpy and thought that it looked sufficiently dead. Through the gaping holes in its face he saw the gooey interior of its head. Was that its brain poking through the cracks in the armored hide? Blimey, it had a big one. Equal parts revolted and intrigued, Rene reached over with the branch and prodded at it, testing for a reflex.
Nothing. Better to be safe than sorry, though. Rene raised the bough on high and steeled himself to do the deed once and for all.
A piece of the head fell away, and Rene gasped. Abandoning common sense, he threw aside the club and squatted over the body, frantically tearing off the rest of its cranial casing, plunging his fingers into the sticky mess and pulling out clumps of armored flesh until what lay beneath was finally revealed.
Rene clutched at his forehead as if it was about to explode. Backing away with a sense of dawning horror, he repeated over and over to himself: “It can’t be. It can’t be, it can’t! That’s not possible! It’s…it’s…”
Beautiful.
That was what Rene had meant to say. But the word felt so utterly absurd given the context that it took all his will to keep from bursting into a fit of deranged laughter. And who could have blamed him?
For beneath the ruined visage of flesh, the creature wore the face of a woman.
Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road