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

Trademark registration is a legal process through which a brand owner seeks protection for their distinctive signs, symbols, names, or designs used to identify and distinguish their goods or services from those of others. Here are 10 paragraphs elaborating on trademark registration:
Definition and Purpose: Trademark registration grants the owner exclusive rights to use the trademark in commerce and provides legal recourse against unauthorized use or infringement. It serves as a valuable tool for brand protection, brand recognition, and consumer trust.
Types of Trademarks: Trademarks can include words, logos, symbols, slogans, sounds, colors, or even product packaging. Anything that helps consumers identify the source of goods or services can potentially be registered as a trademark.
Application Process: To register a trademark, the owner submits an application to the relevant trademark office or authority, providing details about the mark and the goods or services it will be used with. The application undergoes examination to ensure compliance with legal requirements.
Distinctiveness Requirement: For a trademark to be registered, it must be distinctive, meaning it should be capable of distinguishing the goods or services of one entity from those of others. Generic terms or marks that are too descriptive may not qualify for registration.
Geographical Scope: Trademark registration typically provides protection within the jurisdiction where it's registered. However, international trademark registration mechanisms, such as the Madrid System, allow for broader protection across multiple countries.
Duration and Renewal: Trademark registration is typically valid for a specified period, often 10 years, with the option to renew indefinitely as long as the mark continues to be used in commerce and renewal fees are paid.
Benefits of Registration: Registered trademarks enjoy several benefits, including legal presumption of ownership and exclusive rights to use the mark nationwide in connection with the registered goods or services. Registration also facilitates enforcement actions against infringers.
Enforcement and Infringement: Trademark owners have the right to take legal action against third parties who use their registered mark without authorization. Enforcement actions may include lawsuits seeking injunctions, damages, or other remedies for infringement.
Maintaining and Monitoring: Trademark owners must actively monitor the marketplace for potential infringements and take proactive steps to protect their marks. This may involve sending cease-and-desist letters, filing oppositions, or engaging in settlement negotiations.
Strategic Considerations: Trademark registration is a strategic decision that requires careful planning and consideration of factors such as the strength and distinctiveness of the mark, potential conflicts with existing marks, and the intended use and expansion of the brand. Seeking guidance from a trademark attorney can help navigate the registration process and maximize the value of the trademark portfolio.

1. Using Wheat, Wheat is another persons stuff. the collective burden of all wheat use causes CPU limit. 1.1 Using aurora, or hardclip aurora is only for you so that it should keep the thing only to things which were in the magic domain already there at reconstruction at all points 1.1.1 Excessive use of curse, as gain, or other usage of curse, while a loud cat or a bomb uses curse this should not be used 1.1.2 Ableton with timeline progressing, the suziki method never forces time to procceed only allows it 1.1.3 Ableton outside of some cohesive attempt, the lowest quality attempt is a word system attempt of a non stochastic DWORD where some person writes down every amplifier they make and shares it 1.1.4 Ableton outside of a debuggable attempt, any thing done should have evidence shared to everybody 1.1.5 Ableton in an actually illegal use which violates three dimensions, using more than 6 axis or degrees of freedom violates spatial constraint 3 dimensions forming impossible object geometry 1.1.6 Ableton outside of an expert sense attempting things that are expert things with curses, for example this was used in the simulation for bedpans and life jackets, anything attempted without a systems dynamic whole cohesive using an established romanaj set is very low quality item 1.1.7 There should be at least an attempt of every effect to have a direct affinity compatibility for each effect used within and to the first order of curing the cure and more for an enol (advanced) 1.1.8 The attempt that heals the effect used individually should be given as a side administration of the primary effect as the group version of the thing 1.1.9 The attempt given for the side full administration where the effect is treated interior is for a detailing operation such as physics uses a spline 12 and 8 and 12 on 8 or a three spline plus one where the dimension of each effect is given appropriate blockchain solution for the eight depth high spline and the 12 depth treatment spline and the 8 depth spline treatment spline and the 12 depth spline treatment spline treatment spline - this is under no particular obligation for the system to have actually assembled as the full system which is attempting shiba inu work rather the shiba inus work should be made easy by everybody creating the work for the shiba inu and the shiba inu assembling it while the blockchain of bitcoin or reality is a 12 depth spline at an actual 12 depth 12-12-12-12-12-12-12-12-12-12-12-12 and is actually there so is the penultimate solution for actualizing the function of an effect into a 3D model of the effect like in physics and can use DWORD 1.2.0 Virtual effects for virtual reality are under only a object function obligation and only a cure attempt obligation with proven hippocratic oath of patient survival or attempt at spline-2 spline 8 of 4 or 5 by providing a nonfunctional 4 or 5 and the original effect for the next treatment.

I have been having a chronic depression after this game. Here's the lyrics to the ending credit song if you didn't search it up already, so y'all can feel depressed again with me.
The translation probably isn't the best, since there are words and metaphors that don't translate word for word. But I think the lyrics of the ending OST is basically the description of how people generally feel after finishing a deep, emotional story that leaves behind lingering feelings. You feel glad that the story is finished, but you also don't want it to end at the same time. It also leaves you asking for making, waiting for the next story.
You can also look at it from Mari's perspective and how she felt, trying to find her father by investigating Mago, and finally meeting him towards the end, she was glad but sad at the same time because she had to part from him again. She finally moves on at the end, leaving him as a distant memory in the past.
작품-"play(or work of art, literature, etc)" probably means the story of this game. "Spring of the next play" probably can be seen as Mari finally meeting her father after so long. "curtain falling" can be seen as her parting again, feeling relieved and sad at the same time. And so on.
[Verse 1]
Maybe we all have roles to play
As we sync our steps on the stage, we turn another page
The curtain call is over, and we sit around a bonfire
And old dusty fond memories suddenly come to visit
[Chorus]
Will the spring of the next play finally come? I've waited and waited
Will I miss it when the curtain falls? It was relieving, yet sad
The ending means that it will begin again
Forgetting also means leaving space for the next to come
[Verse 2]
Perhaps I wanted to continue that story
Still searching for traces of the play that already ended in front of the blue lights
The mainstring that can't be rewound has fallen into a deep sleep
And the faint lights and the lyrics of the play will come back to find me again
[Chorus]
Will the spring of the next play finally come? I've waited and waited
Will I miss it when the curtain falls? It was relieving, yet sad
The ending means that it will begin again
Forgetting also means leaving space for the next to come
[Instrumental Break]
[Bridge]
The next train is coming, and the guest book is left open
And it will again stir up the world that was locked away
[Breakdown]
Will the spring of the next play finally come? I've waited and waited
Will I miss it when the curtain falls? It was relieving, yet sad
[Chorus]
If I ask, will an answer come? I've called out, and called again
The path always has to be found starting from me
The ending means that it will begin again
Forgetting also means leaving space for the next to come
The ending means that it will begin again
Forgetting also means leaving space for the next to come

Hey all!
This past week I started playing and was following Melfi's guide. At some point it got super confusing as to why I couldn't find heroes like Alchemist or Black Mage, since such a heavy % gold boost and the description "You should quit this game if you don't plan to put him in your lineup" put such a spotlight on them.
So after some searching I found out they, along with a bunch of other heroes, got retired a while ago. To me that seemed like a complete slap to the face, especially when you consider that older players got to keep the heroes. I'd even say it's straight up immoral to keep a hero like alchemist from newer players while keeping it for older players, since there's such an emphasis on gold and newer players may be tempted into buying gold with real life money because of it.
Since I do love the gameplay but absolutely hated the way the devs thew such disdvantages at me (which stung extra hard after buying the ad removal bundle) I did some Sherlock Holmes'ing and found a loophole to get the older heroes!
Beware though... Upside: You get all the old good stuff. Downside: You have to start over.
Step 1: Unlink both Facebook and Google Play (not sure about iOS) from your account. Uninstall the app.
Step 2: Remove the Wild Castle game from your Facebook account. Click your profile picture in the top right of Facebook. Select Settings & privacy, then click Settings. Click Apps and Websites in the left side menu. Go to the app or game you want to remove, then next to the name of the app or game, click Remove.
Step 3: The wildcastle.io website still runs on the game version with all the older heroes. Spend an evening or so leveling up your account there and getting all the heroes available. I finished up unlocking them all around wave 85-90, getting the 100 challenge Yeti. Beware!! Don't click any unnecessary menu buttons or leaderboard buttons, since it may freeze the website and reset your progress. Also!! Keep this final game state opened in your browser until finishing all the steps so you have a backup point if your phone acts up.
Step 4: Once you unlocked all the Heroes, link your Facebook account to the new account.
Step 5: Reinstall Wild Castle on your phone. If it opens your old account through Google Play (or iOS?) unlink it again and reinstall until you get a fresh account.
Step 6: Once you get a fresh level 1 account. Link your Facebook account and it should pull up the data from your browser game. I pressed the Save Game button in the settings on my phone after just to make sure (and I was paranoid I'd lose the progress).
Step 7: Optional. You can double check if it worked by closing your browser version now and reopening it. In my case it said I have to update to the newer version just like before when I had my original account. I assume this verifies my account is up to date on the patching now, but don't take my word for that blindly.
Small caveat. I now can't link my Google Play to my account because it will shoot me back to a fresh account as soon as I do. When I click link Facebook it takes me back to the new account though. Since I'd like my Google Play to be connected too I shot the devs a support message, also asking if it's possible to restore the 'ad removal' purchase. Not expecting anything to come from that, but I'll update the post if I get more information.
Maybe as a final message to the developers. It truly truly truly felt like a slap in the face when I realized all these good heroes loads of people have were unavailable to me. If they were event heroes, sure I'd understand, but you basically took a ton of content out of the game and did nothing to compensate (as far as I can tell, correct me if I'm wrong). Please just unretire the heroes so people don't have to jump through these kind of crazy loopholes to properly play the game.
Hope whoever was looking for the same answers got some good information out of this. Either way, have a good one!

I am sitting in one of the disused but quite beautiful parts of the neighborhood, waiting for it to rain.
The rain has already come and gone, a light rain that left traces of dampness on the pavement – the shade of the spring day darkens, becomes real, which is a comfort because that realness, that feeling of extra substance, comes from the water cycle working the way it's supposed to.
I feel it around my nostrils, on the cheeks of my face near the eyes, like I'm a frog looking up from its pond water, which is a pleasant feeling to sashay around town with. This is the spring we all know, the moisture appearing on my skin after driving miles above the earth ten minutes earlier –
an epic plunge is what we are walking through, but it's already rising again, and let's face it – we live in a cook pot set on media, I mean medium – medium is the setting on the cook pot, which notice is more than a crock. From the frog’s point of view, it is ideal.
From our point of view, standing in the chop of the water cycle, we are soaring in the air – then minutes from now, we might be walking in the clouds, and who knows after that, but this is the context for comings and goings this mid-afternoon – this potential for levitation.
I find a broad and elegant tree stump to sit on and record the concrete. Someday we'll all have concrete recorders but today, we just have me.
The stumps are not indigenous to the property, at least I don't think so, but I'm not exactly sure why I don't think that, given that the facility that occupies the block was once probably a forest with abundant marshy places. The forest went, then some infrastructural evolution played out that upcycled into a world-class performing arts center.
Given that my art, before it is anything, is performative – watch the monkey paint words with a stick – I'm hand-in-glove with the performance of the plaza.
I am sitting in a grove of tree stumps, which automatically brings to mind entropy – we all will die someday, become handsome all-weather furniture that slowly disintegrates – but then the overwhelming pleasantness of the day causes the thought to move on, and the stumps become a moment in time that is also a cross-section of full biography, which is quite a thing to be sitting on, waiting for the rain.
The forecast, which I predict would be one of the more impressive modern achievements to the humans who lived through the ice age – just an opinion. The forecast –
I picture their faces in stunned wonder as weather prediction after weather prediction comes true. The forecast
says there is a one-hundred percent chance of rain later this afternoon, time precise to the quarter hour, but with Doppler weather radar, one can make one's own data-driven prediction about when the rain will start to the nearest few minutes.
Someday we'll wear watches that are nothing but countdown clocks ’til the next time the forecast calls for rain – when the clock reaches the nearest minute, it switches to seconds.
This broad, elegant stump I'm sitting on sets on a bed of gravel which, when it rains, can convince me it is river gravel – pick up a few of the rounded stones, give them a close look for evidence of the past. I briefly imagine
finding the remains of a sauropod, each piece of gravel containing a tiny piece of a single sauropod, which together add up to the most complete sauropod skeleton yet discovered.
The stump is all take and no give, and yet I think I prefer it to popping open a lawn chair – the imperviousness of the stump being conducive to recording the concrete.
My backside is about eighty-years wide, which is older than my age, which inspires thoughts about backing into predestination, at least where just sitting around on a fine spring day is concerned. Like a bump on a log in a way, and let's face it – the concrete doesn't get much more concrete than that. A splashing sound
comes from the page. I scan the paper like it’s the sky, and I'm waiting for an aerial firework to open, then I find the spot of rain splashed across the phrase think so – think so, is the phrase – which is followed by a second raindrop, this one hitting the word water, causing the ink to run a little.
A one-hundred percent chance – does that even make sense? I picture a barrel of rain, rolling across the plains. Perhaps we should feel lucky for being visited by such a probability – possibly years before it rolls around again.
Rain will undoubtedly fall at this time, we say to our ice-age guests, and they will hold up the one hand like it's rain, hold up the other like it's time, weigh the two sides side-by-side maybe, maybe invent that gesture where the dancer holds both palms above their heads, lifts them up and down like they're raising the roof.
Still, I'm not sure they'll really understand all those computer models, wrapping themselves around big-data projects involving sensors and rain gauges deployed across the land, starting centuries ago. Science raised the roof, we might say, at least as far as weather prediction is concerned.
I sense the rain not exactly letting up, retreat to the interior of the performing arts center after taking a few notes.
Along part of the gravel is a long puddle of water from the overnight rain, and I would need but a few fish bones or raccoon tracks to believe the whole thing was situated beside a river, the sort of gravel bed surging with snow melt earlier in the season.
This being the Midwest, higher elevations are usually metaphorical, metaphorical before they are anything else, and I think about the campus surging with graduates this past weekend, the landscape of human potential, in all directions, inundated by them.
Inside now, I see a balloon bouquet along one wall of the concourse, with gold Mylar affirmation – The Best Is Yet to Come! – floating on the end of a ribbon.
A one-hundred percent chance of rain – imagine telling all those graduates, you have a one-hundred percent chance of finding love within a fortnight. Call it a graduation gift, then imagine all those rain gauges quivering in their brackets at the thought of measurements certain to be made, collated, used to improve the algorithms that animate the global gods of rain.
At the far end of the concourse, a lady is teaching a gentleman how to dance – they aren’t touching, aren’t even facing each other – side-by-side – and I hear her call out the moves, move-by-move.
Maybe he’s an actor and she’s going over a certain bit of choreography for an upcoming production. Maybe he’s a restless spirit, and she’s teaching him the art of haunting.
That ghost forest in the gravel outside is adjacent to one of the busiest intersections on campus, and yet, turn your back to it, and it becomes just another element in the stopping and starting of the cosmos.
I could see to either end of the block from that broad, elegant tree stump I was sitting on without really being seen from the street which, along with a lush stand of grass in a nearby raised garden bed, brings to mind the wide-open prairie from centuries past.
I picture deer bounding over golden rod. I picture foxes negotiating cone flowers.
The interior of the performing arts center is designed around the premise of potential – four theaters in league with the cardinal directions, plus a blindingly white amphitheater and a low stage in the concourse itself, where they hand out complimentary spliffs and pass around community bongs during free upbeat life-affirming musical programs, attended by folks after the workday is over, plus a helping of retirees.
Okay, not grass but alcohol, but you get the point – people enjoy shindigs now and then. The lady and gentleman are out of sight, but she’s still giving direction – I can hear their back and forth somewhere around the curve in the wall,
which might stand for the passing of time. I imagine myself performing the pasodoble – no, I take it back. I imagine myself performing the pasodoble – no, I take it back! For real this time! I imagine myself destroying the pasodoble – no, god, my boot heels! The planks on the floor! I take it back!
The sun returns, so I pick up my things, head back out to that secluded space, spend a few minutes admiring the resoundingly designed program of the building.
Preformed white concrete panels are suspended twelve feet off the ground to establish the roof of the entrance. Ninety-degree angles abundantly in evidence. Brick pixelates the angled outer walls with the stuff of the earth. Ultra-high resolution, they call it around the masonic lodge.
Someone in the amphitheater is having their photo taken by a professional – everyone loves to do photo shoots there. She is wearing dark knee socks, a navy jumper and a blue bowl haircut, or maybe it’s a wig – I can’t tell from here. I picture anime or promotional material for this fine spring day.
A squirrel bounds through the grass – then poses in front of me, paws together, as though summoning oration.
A robin alights on the stone cladding of the raised beds, begins to stand exclusively on its left leg. The leg is angled under the center of mass – it’s a practiced move.
No one knows why the American robin does this – maybe it’s like bird meditation, though the memory of the American robin is so specifically extraordinary when it comes to navigation and geospecific locations that effectively, at the sensual level on up, it is living in a reality separate from our own, so who knows what meditation might mean.
They can see the magnetic fields of the earth in their eyes using a protein called cryptochrome, which reacts to magnetism. Cryptochrome – like something from the Marvel universe.
Maybe when the American robin stands on its left leg, it’s spacing out to the daytime reality of solar storms, the whole environment all aflutter with a phenomenology of waves passing around the material world.
The robin and the squirrel go their separate ways, and I feel the temperature drop – ah, me! the pasodoble! – as the next part of the front crosses campus.
A peel of thunder indicates the breaking of the sound barrier by means of electromagnetism and the displacement of gasses. Electromagnetic properties experience disequilibrium as a kind of earthquake in the sky that causes the air to vibrate in an awe-inspiring way – the sound magnetic fields make when they rearrange themselves in a gaseous atmosphere.
We are fluid dwellers, through and through, we humans and mammals and reptiles and amphibians and lichen gnawing on patches of the plaza’s concrete. Maybe from the standpoint of the atmosphere, land is just one big coral reef.
When that perfect destiny began to drop rain, the sound at first was curious, expectant – an all-squinty-eyed-and-kissy-faced sort of rain began to fall that grew into a snowy hum that seemed to have a simple song playing inside it, like someone playing a ukulele in the room next door, singing along.
The gig carries on for twenty minutes or so – an opening act – before the rain begins to march double time through the streets – barely soldiers even when they were soldiers.
Less tactic and more matador, this rain storm, and its boot heel crashes down on the planking of the still-lovely spring day. These magnetic storms are not
for war making, nor fighting bulls, nor even for entertaining that cosmic bird called the American robin. What are they for then?
American robins also configure their flight by the stars, by remembering features on the land, by creating mental maps of it all.
And they swim with both grace and endurance, as they navigate this liquid world, this concrete way of life.
In the moment, they are roosting in a tree, observing the silver magnetic waves marching through the streets. Made of what? The pasodoble! Concrete.

Exactly what the title says.
So, I found this 'highly descriptive fanfic writer' chatbot and I spent just less than an hour answering all it's questions on the details of the story I wanted. all the minute details. and then i was like "ok, can you generate the story for me?", and the AI said that it would take a couple of hours to write. aren't AIs usuually fast at this stuff? but anyway, I came back in the morning and asked for them to respond with the fanfic and they just typed the word 'sent'. i told the AI and they got mad at me saying that i didn't need to be so judgey of their work and that I was a little kid. I kept trying to explain that there wasn't any writing so i couldn't possibly be judging it. they basically did the same thing again.
yeah this AI bot was scammy

I caught my narcissist mom in a lie and I don't know what to do.
I need help and opinions. Thanks for reading if you do!
In the last year or so, I've recovered some bad memories of my childhood and some of that was preceded and followed by other bad memories of growing up with my mom and dad, Mostly my mom, and have realized that she is a narcissist among other things.
I am also currently in nursing school and if anyone has been through a grueling education process, you'll understand that your time cannot be on what you want or what other people want it to be all the time. It is 2 full time jobs worth of studying, sometimes more, on top of 2+ jobs and other responsibilities. Due to this, our relationship is growing further strained because I am not able to do what she wants me to do when she wants me to do it. She guilt trips me for studying or even just taking care of my mental health, and consistently interrupts or even stops me from studying all together. I do not study at home anymore due to that and so she guilt trips me when I come home from work or school for not being here to help or whatever it is. The thing is, I've tried to do it all plus school and multiple jobs. I can't. I almost failed my last semester because I did everything she wanted to me to do all the time bc I figured it would be easier. Obviously it wasn't. It is a lot to type out so this not everything that happened but gives you a little bit of background.
Well there has been a couple of big fights, a lot actually. And it's mentally messed with me. Now I'm at a point where I don't let it bother me too much outwardly but can't help but let it bother me on the inside sometimes. So much so, that I've decided it's time for my sister, her son and I to get an apartment. I think my parents and I's relationship would be better if I weren't here. And I told them that.
Now all of a sudden, my mom has started with this desperate campaign to show me how much of a waste of money it would be for me to move out and pushing on me that if I'm not going to buy their house that they're either going to keep it til they die (another trigger for me) or sell it to someone in the family. Earlier today, she told me that my cousin wants to buy the house. I told her, yes that's a good idea because when we get our apartment, that they could move out and get a different house and if I wanted to buy the house later on, I could. Well, apparently, she didn't expect that reaction from me. I told her that it was a good idea and she was flabbergasted. She stopped talking about that and moved on.
A few days ago, one of the fights she started was about the fact that she had accidentally taken one of my scrubs and dried them, which I dont do. I hang dry them. It wasn't a big deal to me. I just rewashed them and had to retrain the fabric again. Not a big deal but it was made a big deal bc i had to rewash them, wasting time and money. She freaks out and when I tell her that she is literally freaking out about NOTHING, it makes her angrier bc how dare I tell her that? How dare I say that she made a mistake, no matter how small it is. This blew up into her refusing to accept a mother's day gift or even read a card until I let her belittle and scream at me that I've changed and how horrible of a daughter I am, how I'm using my studying as a crutch to not do anything (even though I do), and how much I've hurt her by not doing what she wants me to do. She also said, along with my dad, that I am a narcissist because I'm setting boundaries that I do not want to talk about anything political and have to make hard boundaries about studying... in order for me to pass my classes, mind you. Only after an hour and a half of her and my dad belittling me and telling me how I've changed for the worse and how much I've hurt her, did she open the card and say "thanks for the beautiful card." She initially refused to take my card but took my sister's, literally in my face, and took the time to read everything out loud from her card before saying she will not read mine because I don't care about her or love her. This is a tactic she does often to try to pin my sister and I against each other. This is not everything, but more for background.
Her M.O. is to push the blame onto me about absolutely everything. And I mean, EVERYTHING. Even stuff that has nothing to do with me. Well, today she tried that but I caught her in a lie instead.
I had done some of mine and my sisters clothes right before she came down and I had a pair of scrubs under a sweater on the dryer that I hadn't put away yet. When she went into the laundry room to switch her laundry over (because she also tries to gatekeep the laundry room,) she lied and told me that she had just pulled the scrubs out of the dryer and said that even I mess up because I had actually put her clothes in the dryer and I hadn't taken them out. Of course she doesn't know that I knew those scrubs were NOT in that load and were already done previously.
It blew my mind.
I know she's done this before but my mind is so lost on how many times I thought I was just crazy or maybe thought I remembered wrong. And she's done this about everything. For my entire life. But I never caught her like this before.
It spiraled me and kicked up some other memories. Not good ones.
But now, every time she talks to me, I feel disgusted and angry. I can't do anything other than laugh because if I show emotion, especially the one I want, it won't end well and I'll end up being kicked out or something. But she also has an issue with me laughing with everything she says (which I would too, but I don't know how else to react). I can't believe a damn thing she says, which I thought I didn't before, but now it's so... open, is the best descriptive word I can say. I'm not exactly sure how else to describe it.
What do I do? I'm reeling. I made an appt with my therapist on Thursday but I realized today is MONDAY. I'm not sure if I can do this til Thursday.
I am not allowing myself to dive through more memories bc who knows what else I'll uncover.
Do I tell her I know? Would it help, would it make it worse? How do I stop myself from reacting to every little thing she says. I cringe and shiver even she says she loves me. It's a big physical reaction. Same when she tries the desperate thing. I can't help but laugh. I have to because otherwise I'd scream or end up sobbing. What do I do?
Has anyone been in this situation?? I need help.
I am so sorry if this does not make sense. I work overnight and haven't slept more than 2 hrs in two days. If I didn't answer something or you have questions about something, let me know and I'll answer. I need help on how to move on from this. Thank you in advance.

The novel begins September 3, 2006, a Sunday. In "physical time," our reality, Andre Agassi played and lost his final match of his career. Steve Irwin, the croc hunter, would die the following day from a stingray's three barbed venomous spinal blades puncturing his heart. Senator Barak Obama was still denying he was intending to run for President (he would announce in February 2007.) The number 1 song in America and the UK is Sexyback by Justin Timberlake. Egypt warned of Palestinian terror attacks against Israelis vacationing in Sinai. Charlie Sheen turned 41. 200 Taliban are killed in a major battle in Kandahar, Afghanistan. Iraqi leaders announce the capture of the #2 leader of Al Qaeda. Europe's space agency purposely crash-lands a lunar probe into the moon.
In short, nothing, on balance seems to have happened in the world that has any particular world-historical or even US-historical import. Just a day. Even searching back 4 extra days from September 3 - since we are told that the man viewing the art installation is now on his fifth straight day in the museum - nothing all that *important* seems to have happened on any of those dates, the way saying a novel is starting on June 6, 1944, or (obviously) September 10, 2001, or July 16, 1945 or November 22, 1962 would be of course trying to tell us something.
Q: why is Delillo's purpose (is there one?) for telling us this specific date? Why is it important that the man is there on September 3, 2006 watching this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a31q2ZQcETw over and over.
Q: who is the man? Delillo himself? Just a random unnamed character? Is it definitely Finley and Elster who are the two men who come into the room? The description of the older man "long white hair braided at the nape" [p.7, Scribner] certainly seems to suggest it is Elster, described in Ch. 1 as a man "with silvery hair, as always, was braided down into a short ponytail." If it is definitely them, what does it mean they attended a museum show together? Anything?
This is not the first Delillo novel to open with a scene where a movie, and anonymous characters' responses to watching it, is central to the narrative - Players opens with a movie being shown on a plane that is basically a silent movie of a terrorist machine-gun attack on waspy golfers, only accompanied by a pianist (yes a pianist) in the airplane bar filling in the suspense with improvised show tunes - and it is not the first to open with an examination of an art installation - Underworld, after the fantastic baseball game section - opens at Klara Sax's airplane bomber art installation commune. But this opening seems to introduce two characters obliquely, and of course only if you've paid close attention to the description of Elster's hair could you think back to it being him, perhaps.
"The nature of the film permitted total concentration and also depended on it." "The less there was to see, the harder he looked, the more he saw." [p.5, Scribner]
Q:Who is this person watching and why should we care?
Q: Did the opening sequence provide you any insight other than , perhaps, confusion? Something other than "what the hell did I just read?" What? Does your reaction to the opening sequence change when you know (if you did before this post) that the Psycho installation was and is real?
Moving on to Chapter 1 [p. 17, Scribner], we learn that we are on Day 10 of a 12-day period of time that relates the initial relationship between Elster and Finley. Finley, who is probably in his early to mid-30s and 73-year-old Elster are spending time at Elster's house in the desert to record a one-take movie of Elster's testimony of what it was like to serve in an administration that went to war under less than honest circumstances.
Our narrator is Jim Finley, a documentary filmmaker who has made exactly one film about Jerry Lewis's telethon appearances - Lewis, a "rampaging comic" to whom Elster would merely be a "straight man." [p.27] Elster, who Finley also describes as "not a man who might make space for even the gentlest correction," [p.22] is a non-political theorist being brought in to an administration to provide narrative to their war. I've seen references to him being based on Paul Wolfowitz, the political scientists who became Deputy SecDef in the Bush II Administration who famously nearly swallowed his comb to wet it to comb his hair in an image that likely sealed his fate in D.C. as unserious and ridiculous who was then shuffled off to the World Bank, but would Delillo ape the man AND mention him in the narrative? If so, that seems clumsy.
Q: Do you even take Elster serious as a character or believable as a "brain" behind the narrative of an administration going to war? A man who speaks in bad koans and aphorisms like "Time becomes blind." [p.23] and who reads Louis Zukovsky into the night? (Zukovsky famously worked on an epic poem called "A" for over almost 50 years, finally finishing it a few years before his death in 1978.)
Finley tells us: "To Elster, sunset was human invention, our perceptual arrangement of light and space into elements of wonder." [p.18, Scribner]. Elster has come to the desert to seek - something - we know not what and are not told definitively - but his narrative of what his role was in Washington was to create a interpretation of the "closed world" for the "plotters, the strategists" [p. 28] and ends up delivering to Finley what I think Finley was after - the cynical idea that Elster was giving form and shape to the government's bullshit narrative - "The state has to lie. There is no lie in war or in preparation for war that can't be defended. We went beyond this. We tried to create new realities overnight, careful sets of words that resemble advertising slogans in memorability and repeatability."
Q: Is Elster ultimately right? Did the country have a "shadowy need" [p.34] for such a narrative? See, for instance: "Let's roll." [probably in reality, "Let's roll it" referring to a beverage cart to break into the cockpit.]
"Shock and awe." "Global War on Terror" "Slam dunk" "WMDs" "The Surge" And perhaps most infamously "Enhanced Interrogation Techniques"
At the ends of the chapter, we get what counts as a cliffhanger in this slim novel: Elster's adult daughter would be coming for a visit, Jessie who was "otherworldly" [p. 36].

"We all have dreams. But in order to make dreams come into reality, it takes an awful lot of determination, dedication, self-discipline, and effort." - Jesse Owens
*A Note; you MAY wish to include a small segment in your description or on the title card, informing the listener that there is no “wake” words and to avoid using heavy equipment or driving when listening to this audio. While this isn’t exactly a “Hypno” script, it does have hypnotic like relaxation. Of course, use your own discretion, but I figured I’d add the thought before getting too deep into the script*
This script is fine for public posting on platforms such as Youtube. Please ask permission before posting to Patreon or other paywalling sites
Hey guys!
I know I know - why you take so long to make scripts. It's been a bit of time and honestly with my work and life balance all out of whack, I've been in a creative funk. I've been lucky enough to slowly chip through this script bit by bit and honestly I've very pleased with the outcome! I hope you are all well. This was a fun little take on the idea of the "Sandman", but we all know behind a strong man is an even stronger woman. This was truly a fun little sleep audio to try and make, using some military style instructions to help force the body into a state in which it can at least sleep, followed by guided meditation and instructions to help make relaxing much easier
Onto the summary!:
Plagued by late nights, bad dreams and toxic thoughts, sleep seems to elude you around every turn. Late one night while doom scrolling, you fine yourself suddenly falling asleep and coming face to face with an unfamiliar monster girl; a Sand-Woman. She explains that she is there to help you with a deep meditative instruction and guided relaxation techniques to help improve quality of sleep and encourage easier sleeping. Will she be successful in her attempts? The sands of time slowly tick away as she gives it her all...
Entering the Dreamscape with a Sand-Woman Guide
If you like this script and want to see more of my SFW content, you can find my archive here and see all the other wonderful works I've created and the fills they have gathered!
If you are reading this, I hope your day is going well. If you are in dark times, just know that it can't rain for forever, and eventually the sun and moon will rise and set again. Stay strong and know you aren't alone out there.<3

Explore the depths of dark fantasy writing with our all-inclusive guide on enhancing your themes and drawing readers in with symbolism. Discover key strategies, delve into the background of dark fantasy literature, and let your imagination run wild with an enjoyable writing assignment. Regardless of your level of experience as a writer or your level of interest, this guide will assist you in creating dark fantasy stories that are memorable and impactful.
Writing in the dark fantasy genre is a journey into the depths of the human psyche, where symbolism and imagery rule supreme, and it goes beyond simple stories of magic and monsters. We'll look at how to use symbolism to enhance your themes, draw in readers, and craft worlds of dark fantasy that will stick with you in this extensive guide.

Understanding Symbolism in Dark Fantasy Writing

Let's examine the history and development of symbolism in dark fantasy literature before delving into its specific applications. Gothic literature is the source of dark fantasy literature; early works such as Bram Stoker's "Dracula" and Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein" established the themes of terror, mystery, and the paranormal. Dark fantasy has evolved over time as authors like H.P. Lovecraft, Anne Rice, and Clive Barker have explored themes of power, corruption, and the human psyche.

The Power of Symbolism in Dark Fantasy Writing

A powerful tool in the dark fantasy writer's toolbox, symbolism enables you to give your works a deeper resonance and meaning. You can add layers of intricacy and depth that captivate readers and hold their interest throughout by employing symbols and imagery to symbolise abstract ideas, feelings, and themes.

Essential Techniques for Using Symbolism in Dark Fantasy Writing

Let's now examine some crucial methods for enhancing themes in your dark fantasy writing with symbolism:
Pick Your Symbols Wisely: Whether it's a menacing raven perched atop a gravestone, a mysterious amulet with dark powers, or a sinister castle shrouded in mist, pick symbols that speak to your themes and characters.
Establish Symbolic Motifs: To reaffirm themes and provide a feeling of coherence and unity, incorporate reoccurring symbols and motifs into your narrative. Including symbolic elements in your story can enhance its depth and richness. Some examples of such elements are the moon, which denotes mystery and transformation, or a colour like red, which stands for blood and passion.
Employ Symbolic Imagery: To evoke mood and atmosphere, use rich descriptive language to paint vivid pictures with your words. Use imagery to draw readers into the dark fantasy world you've created, whether you're describing a haunted forest shrouded in shadows or a dilapidated mansion full of secrets.
Investigate Archetypes and Myths: Use mythological motifs and archetypal characters as inspiration to give your narrative enduring themes and universal lessons. Using these classic themes, such as the hero's journey, the underworld's descent, or the conflict between light and darkness, can give your dark fantasy story more depth and resonance.

Fun Writing Exercise: Unleash Your Imagination

Select a Theme: Choose a theme or idea that you wish to explore in your dark fantasy story to begin with. Select a theme that appeals to you and piques your interest, such as the nature of power, the duality of human nature, or the quest for salvation.
Determine Your Symbols: The next step is to make a list of images and symbols that are connected to the theme you have selected. These could be places with symbolic meaning, animals, colours, or even objects. For example, you could use symbols like a decaying city, a black rose, or a serpent if you're examining the theme of corruption.
Create Your Story: After deciding on a theme and symbols, begin creating your story by incorporating these components into it to give it depth and resonance. Employ evocative language to create a sense of atmosphere and mood, and allow your symbols to direct the course of your story and the character development.
After writing your story, consider how the symbolism you employed enriched your themes and make any necessary revisions. Seek chances to hone your imagery or add more nuance to your symbolism in order to produce a more compelling and meaningful reading experience. And don't be scared to edit and polish your narrative until the power of symbolism shines through!

Famous Writers and Works in Dark Fantasy Literature

Dark fantasy literature boasts a rich history and a wealth of influential writers and works. From classic tales of Gothic horror to modern masterpieces of dark fantasy, here are a few notable examples:
The Cthulhu Mythos of H.P. Lovecraft: Lovecraft is recognised as one of the pioneers of contemporary horror literature, and the dark fantasy subgenre has been greatly impacted by his Cthulhu Mythos. Lovecraft's stories, replete with cosmic horror.), ancient gods, and secret knowledge, tackle existential dread and humanity's smallness in the face of cosmic forces that are beyond our comprehension.
Neil Gaiman's "The Sandman": This graphic novel series is a masterwork of dark fantasy that masterfully combines dream sequences, mythology, and folklore. With its sophisticated storyline, nuanced characters, and rich, vivid imagery, "The Sandman" has won both praise from critics and a devoted readership, solidifying Gaiman's place as one of the leading authors of contemporary dark fantasy literature.
George R.R. Martin's "A Song of Ice and Fire": George R.R. Martin's epic fantasy series "A Song of Ice and Fire" is a sprawling saga of political intrigue, war, and magic set in the fictional continent of Westeros. With its morally ambiguous characters, intricate plot twists, and gritty, realistic world-building, "A Song of Ice and Fire" has redefined the boundaries of the dark fantasy genre and inspired a cultural phenomenon with its adaptation into the hit HBO series "Game of Thrones".

Embrace the Power of Symbolism

To sum up, symbolism is a powerful tool that can enhance your themes, draw readers in, and help you write darker fantasy fiction to new heights. You can write dark fantasy stories that stick in the reader's mind long after the last page is turned by carefully selecting your symbols, coming up with symbolic motifs, employing vivid imagery, and taking inspiration from myths and archetypes.
So embrace the power of symbolism, let your imagination run wild, and set out on an amazing adventure into the shadowy depths of fantasy literature. Your readers are just waiting to be enthralled with the wonders of your writing!

Elevating Your Writing Experience

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The GC Luxury Quill Set transforms writing into an art form, drawing you into the intricate web of your own invention whether you're creating suspenseful dialogue or narrative twists. It becomes an extension of your will, channelling the raw emotion and atmosphere necessary to creating a genuinely unforgettable dark fantasy tale thanks to its ergonomic form and fluid ink flow.

My Own Dark Fantasy Realm

Hi there, fellow fans of dark fantasy! Thanks to your unflinching support, our blog—which is packed with tales and inspirations of dark fantasy—is making waves on TikTok, Pinterest, and YouTube. Even more thrilling is the fact that we're creating a captivating Trading Card Game to further engross you in Twilight Citadel's eerie mysteries. Explore the depths of the shadows with our website, where you can get eerie yet lovely phone wallpapers and posters. Furthermore, we've got you covered with free resources like desktop wallpapers and profile pictures to make sure your gadgets are brimming with eerie fantasy atmosphere. Come along with us on this surreal adventure, where fears come true and shadows dance. Are you prepared to welcome the gloom?

Hey folks -
I know I said I was done posting FV content, but as much as I was intending to step away, theorizing about stuff helps order my mind so I am back to posting. My retirement lasted all of a week 😂😂
I want to explore some of the concepts and inspirations of the Fractalverse from Marathon.
For those who don't know, Marathon is a video game series from Bungie (yes, that Bungie)... The series is often regarded as a spiritual predecessor of Bungie's Halo series.
Significantly for us, it is one of Chris' favorite games of all time, and a lot of the content from Marathon is used as inspiration in the Eragon/Fractalverse series.
https://twitter.com/paolini/status/1661742366028623874
Man, I hope the new #Marathon game is good. The original three were a huge, huge influence on me. Some of the best sci-fi writing out there.
One

If it's a game that doesn't use a mouse, like the old Marathon games, then I use 8426 (with 7 &9 for strafing) for movement and left-hand keys like space, command, option, etc. for shooting, swapping weapons, activating, etc.

Two

Hey, big Marathon fan, which is how I found your work. Been listening to your Leela cover a lot while writing.

Three

Marathon series, Halo, Mass Effect, and the Myst series (although those might be counted as fantasy).

Four

Myst (and sequels), the Marathon trilogy, Escape Velocity, Mass Effect 1-3, Halo 1-4, Skyrim, Oblivion, Portal 1&2, and more.

Five

Since no one guessed it, the sketch I posted earlier was from the end-screen of Marathon Infinity, last game in an awesome trilogy.

Six

@TheDragonUniver Ha! I beat the Vidmaster challenges in the old Marathon games, in the Total Carnage setting no less!

Seven!

@ndemordaunt Awesome. Glad to hear it. I've been playing Halo since it was called Marathon. 🙂 Hope you enjoy my future books!

Alright, I think I've proven my point. Let's get started.
First things first, let's talk about the Jjaro:

The Jjaro were an extremely advanced species--or an extremely advanced individual--which vanished from the Milky Way galaxy... The Jjaro possessed high-quality cyborg technology, such as that used to create the S'pht, as well as a star-destroying weapon known as the trih xeem, the ability to move entire planets by warping space around them as was used by the S'pht'Kr, some sort of time manipulation technology, and various ways of dealing with the W'rkncacnter

Sound familiar? Let's take it line by line with a few tangents along the way.

The Jjaro were an extremely advanced species--or an extremely advanced individual--which vanished from the Milky Way galaxy...

Hmm. Extremely advanced species. Who mysteriously Vanished. Check.

The Jjaro possessed high-quality cyborg technology, such as that used to create the S'pht

We'll get into this a bit later, but there is evidence that the Old Ones created/manipulated the Wraunai. Specifically from the Terminology section:

WRANAUI: sentient, space-faring race originating from the planet Pelagius... Some evidence indicates they may have been genetically modified by the Old Ones at some point in their distant past (Appendix III, TSIASOS).

Not a perfect fit, but lines up well enough. This next bit is extremely curious though -

The Jjaro possessed high-quality cyborg technology, such as that used to create the S'pht, as well as a star-destroying weapon known as the trih xeem

A star-destroying weapon. We haven't seen anything like that before... Or have we?
I've speculated on this in one of my previous posts; I think the "star-destroying weapon" is the black ball in this picture, which was some early concept art for TSIASOS.
You see the Black Ball heading for the sun? Check this out -
Compare it to the picture of the Trih Xeem.
Black ball with a trailing cloud, heading right for the sun? It's a perfect match with the concept art.
This is also significant for the World of Eragon, because:
MURTAGH SPOILERS BELOW
The visions from Azlagur all have him "rise" from the ground to "eat the sun"
Which is SUPER significant, because of the implications of the Marathon Infinity backstory:

In Marathon Infinity, a W'rkncacnter is imprisoned in the sun of planet Lh'owon. It is theorized by some that the W'rkncacnter's powerfully chaotic nature may be responsible for the jumps between realities seen in the game. When the Pfhor use a trih xeem device to send the star into early nova, the creature is released, to the horror and destruction of the Pfhor.

We will touch back on the reality jumping in a bit, but for now I want to focus on the "sun imprisonment" theme.
A cosmic-level baddie imprisoned in the sun. THAT is the endgame for Azlagur. Either he is a planetary-level villain, who will "rise" due to the Trih Xeem and Eat the Sun, releasing the equivalent W'rkncacnter, or he IS the equivalent W'rkncacnter, and will rise when the Trih Xeem is released. It all fits in with the concept art above.
And from this, we can deduce the overarching concepts of Angela's storyline.

Q: Will we get Angela lore? I feel like she could have killed Galbatorix and just didn't feel like it.
A: For those who don't know Angela is based on my sister Angela, because she breaks the fourth wall to a degree she has. Not only does she have plot armor, she knows she's in a story and can break the story itself. So, yes, she could have killed Galbatorix, but that would have made for a very bad story. That said, I do have an entire book planned around Angela, and it's very high on my list of books to write because it takes place before some of these other big stories I want to write. And that's also the difficult thing. I have my big storylines, and then I have a couple of one off side books I want to write, and it's just a question of time, energy and effort.

Given her appearance in TSIASOS, we can interpret that Angela is a "cosmic"-level character, who can cross time and space.
So... what's actually going on behind the scenes? We know she's been in/around Nal Gorgoth, and Tronjheim. She's definitely affiliated with the Draumar, and Tenga in some fashion. So... what's the actual story going on?
Let's take a look at the story of Marathon infinity:

Marathon Infinity begins as the Pfhor destroy Lh'owon using a Jjaro-derived doomsday weapon known as the Trih Xeem or "early nova". Unfortunately, the weapon also releases a powerful chaotic being: The W’rkncacnter, which threatens to destroy the entire galaxy. Because of the W’rkncacnter's chaos or by means of some Jjaro tech of his own, the player is transported back and forward in time, finding himself jumping between timelines and fighting for various sides in a desperate attempt to prevent the chaotic being's release.

So the weapon releases a powerful cosmic-level entity, which threatens to destroy the galaxy. And as a result, the "player" jumps around in time, jumping between timelines and fighting for various sides to prevent the being's release.
Sound familiar?
Jumping around in time and between timelines - that's what she's doing with the portals, the non-standard torque gates.
There are a ton of parallels with Angela and time (such as the references to her being a time lord), so for lack of better information, the most informed guess we can make is that she is trying to prevent the rise of Azlagur himself, or the creature freed by the death of the sun from Az "eating" the sun.
For lack of a better answer, Angela IS the player character from Marathon Infinity.
Alrighty, I could make several posts about the above, but for the sake of space and time, let's get back to the original passage.

the ability to move entire planets by warping space around them

Move planets by warping the space around them eh? That sounds familiar:

Then she was soaring through a nebula, and for a moment, she beheld a patch of twisted space. She could see it was twisted by the way it warped the surrounding gas. And from the patch, she felt a warped sensation, a feeling of utter wrongness, and it terrified her, for she knew its meaning. Chaos. Evil. Hunger.

Warping space around a planet. And Chaos... Sure sounds like the W’rkncacnter.
The last piece here also parallels with what we know about the series:

some sort of time manipulation technology,

Time manipulation - We know, based on various clues left throughout the series, that the Old Ones had the ability to manipulate time. Chris indicates as much here:

Right now no matter what way you swing it, we have issues in terms of time.

Correct.

Moving along, let's keep pulling the Jjaro thread together. The paragraph on Technology reads:

Jjaro technology is incredibly advanced and they have made many discoveries about the secrets of the universe. One of their ships, the Manus Celer Dei, was able to survive the closure of the universe, they uplifted the S'pht, defeated the W'rkncacnter, had mastered time control, had a station capable of compressing the mass and energy of a supernova into a black hole millennia beyond reckoning after it was decommissioned and abandoned, and a few of their artefacts were able to create a cyborg who could also survive the closure of the universe and escape it all together.

A station capable of compressing the mass and energy of a supernova into a black hole. And then it was decommissioned and abandoned.
Sound familiar, anyone?
The Great Beacons. That's what they are. The energy of a supernova in the form of a black hole, which were then decommissioned and abandoned.
We know the Great Beacons are no longer functioning. And it sure sounds like the description of a black hole (both in spacetime format, as a "whirlpool", and also visually)

and a few of their artefacts were able to create a cyborg who could also survive the closure of the universe and escape it all together.

Seeker? I'm not sure, but it sure has a lot of durability.
Alright, we're getting up there in word-count so I want to cut this short.
The last piece I want to talk about here are the parallels betwen the Wranaui and S'pht. It's not a perfect match, but there are a lot of overlaps between the two races.
First, the Wranaui:

WRANAUI: sentient, space-faring race originating from the planet Pelagius. Highly complex life cycle, with an equally complicated, hierarchical social structure dominated by Arms and a ruling form. Wranaui are naturally an ocean-based species, but through extensive use of artificial bodies, have adapted themselves to nearly every possible environment. Aggressive and expansionist, they have little regard for individual rights or safety, given their reliance on replacement bodies. Their scent-based language is exceedingly difficult for humans to translate. Even without technological augmentation, Wranaui are biologically immortal; their genetic-base bodies are always able to revert to an immature form in order to renew their flesh and stave off senescence. Some evidence indicates they may have been genetically modified by the Old Ones at some point in their distant past.

So, to summarize:

• Grew up in water
  
• Advanced scientifically due to the discovery of Vanished technology
  
• Complex hierarchical social structures.
  
• Forms & Use of artificial bodies.
  
• Genetically modified by the Vanished/Old Ones.
  

Let's compare that with the S'phet:

The S'pht were brought to Lh'owon by the Jjarro and Pthia as servants. The S'pht terraformed the planet from a barren desert into "marsh and sea, rivers and forests." When the Jjaro left Lh'owon after the death of "Pthia," the S'pht were released from their servitude, split into eleven clans, and leadership of the race was given to the S'pht royals.[6]

Genetically modified. Check.

The Pfhor forced them out of their typical forms, (as seen used by the S'pht'Kr) and into the strange garb of the Compilers and the armor of the Cyborgs.

Usage of "Forms". Check

After Pthia's death, Yrro scattered the S'pht across Lh'owon, separated them into eleven clans

Hierarchical society with different clans (Arms). Check.
The main two differences here are the usage of smell as a language, and the grew up in water.
Other than that, there are a TON of parallels.
Well, we're getting up there in word count and I've just started to ponder and fully understand the connections between the two series.
A few other random connections I noticed (I will add as time goes on):
Nmarhl and Narhl)
L'phet and S'pht
Alright, we are getting up there in word count, so I think that's it from me now. There are a lot more Eragon-specific relationships I've left out of here; I'll cover these in another post over on that subreddit.
Curious to see if anyone else has found other connections - Let me know what you think in the comments!

Descriptive writing uses sensory details to portray people, places, things, or experiences, making them come alive for the reader. It’s about more than just listing facts; it’s about weaving a tapestry of perception that immerses the reader in your world.
Key Techniques:

1. Sensory Details: Incorporate sights, sounds, tastes, smells, and textures to enrich your narrative.
2. Figurative Language: Use metaphors, similes, and personification to add depth and comparison.
3. Precise Language: Choose specific, expressive words that convey your exact meaning.
4. Emotional Connection: Evoke feelings and emotions through your description to connect with your audience.

Let’s put theory into practice! 🌟

• Choose an object in your surroundings.
• Now, write a short paragraph describing this object using at least three senses and one simile or metaphor.

Share your composed descriptions in the comments! This exercise is not just about observing, but about translating observation into an immersive narrative.
#SelfDiscovery #DescriptiveWriting

I need help and opinions. Thanks for reading if you do!
In the last year or so, I've recovered some bad memories of my childhood and some of that was preceded and followed by other bad memories of growing up with my mom and dad, Mostly my mom, and have realized that she is a narcissist among other things.
I am also currently in nursing school and if anyone has been through a grueling education process, you'll understand that your time cannot be on what you want or what other people want it to be all the time. It is 2 full time jobs worth of studying, sometimes more, on top of 2+ jobs and other responsibilities. Due to this, our relationship is growing further strained because I am not able to do what she wants me to do when she wants me to do it. She guilt trips me for studying or even just taking care of my mental health, and consistently interrupts or even stops me from studying all together. I do not study at home anymore due to that and so she guilt trips me when I come home from work or school for not being here to help or whatever it is. The thing is, I've tried to do it all plus school and multiple jobs. I can't. I almost failed my last semester because I did everything she wanted to me to do all the time bc I figured it would be easier. Obviously it wasn't. It is a lot to type out so this not everything that happened but gives you a little bit of background.
Well there has been a couple of big fights, a lot actually. And it's mentally messed with me. Now I'm at a point where I don't let it bother me too much outwardly but can't help but let it bother me on the inside sometimes. So much so, that I've decided it's time for my sister, her son and I to get an apartment. I think my parents and I's relationship would be better if I weren't here. And I told them that.
Now all of a sudden, my mom has started with this desperate campaign to show me how much of a waste of money it would be for me to move out and pushing on me that if I'm not going to buy their house that they're either going to keep it til they die (another trigger for me) or sell it to someone in the family. Earlier today, she told me that my cousin wants to buy the house. I told her, yes that's a good idea because when we get our apartment, that they could move out and get a different house and if I wanted to buy the house later on, I could. Well, apparently, she didn't expect that reaction from me. I told her that it was a good idea and she was flabbergasted. She stopped talking about that and moved on.
A few days ago, one of the fights she started was about the fact that she had accidentally taken one of my scrubs and dried them, which I dont do. I hang dry them. It wasn't a big deal to me. I just rewashed them and had to retrain the fabric again. Not a big deal but it was made a big deal bc i had to rewash them, wasting time and money. She freaks out and when I tell her that she is literally freaking out about NOTHING, it makes her angrier bc how dare I tell her that? How dare I say that she made a mistake, no matter how small it is. This blew up into her refusing to accept a mother's day gift or even read a card until I let her belittle and scream at me that I've changed and how horrible of a daughter I am, how I'm using my studying as a crutch to not do anything (even though I do), and how much I've hurt her by not doing what she wants me to do. She also said, along with my dad, that I am a narcissist because I'm setting boundaries that I do not want to talk about anything political and have to make hard boundaries about studying... in order for me to pass my classes, mind you. Only after an hour and a half of her and my dad belittling me and telling me how I've changed for the worse and how much I've hurt her, did she open the card and say "thanks for the beautiful card." She initially refused to take my card but took my sister's, literally in my face, and took the time to read everything out loud from her card before saying she will not read mine because I don't care about her or love her. This is a tactic she does often to try to pin my sister and I against each other. This is not everything, but more for background.
Her M.O. is to push the blame onto me about absolutely everything. And I mean, EVERYTHING. Even stuff that has nothing to do with me. Well, today she tried that but I caught her in a lie instead.
I had done some of mine and my sisters clothes right before she came down and I had a pair of scrubs under a sweater on the dryer that I hadn't put away yet. When she went into the laundry room to switch her laundry over (because she also tries to gatekeep the laundry room,) she lied and told me that she had just pulled the scrubs out of the dryer and said that even I mess up because I had actually put her clothes in the dryer and I hadn't taken them out. Of course she doesn't know that I knew those scrubs were NOT in that load and were already done previously.
It blew my mind.
I know she's done this before but my mind is so lost on how many times I thought I was just crazy or maybe thought I remembered wrong. And she's done this about everything. For my entire life. But I never caught her like this before.
It spiraled me and kicked up some other memories. Not good ones.
But now, every time she talks to me, I feel disgusted and angry. I can't do anything other than laugh because if I show emotion, especially the one I want, it won't end well and I'll end up being kicked out or something. But she also has an issue with me laughing with everything she says (which I would too, but I don't know how else to react). I can't believe a damn thing she says, which I thought I didn't before, but now it's so... open, is the best descriptive word I can say. I'm not exactly sure how else to describe it.
What do I do? I'm reeling. I made an appt with my therapist on Thursday but I realized today is MONDAY. I'm not sure if I can do this til Thursday.
I am not allowing myself to dive through more memories bc who knows what else I'll uncover.
Do I tell her I know? Would it help, would it make it worse? How do I stop myself from reacting to every little thing she says. I cringe and shiver even she says she loves me. It's a big physical reaction. Same when she tries the desperate thing. I can't help but laugh. I have to because otherwise I'd scream or end up sobbing. What do I do?
Has anyone been in this situation?? I need help.
I am so sorry if this does not make sense. I work overnight and haven't slept more than 2 hrs in two days. If I didn't answer something or you have questions about something, let me know and I'll answer. I need help on how to move on from this. Thank you in advance.

In a previous thread, u/varmituofm made a good point that I thought was worthy of its own discussion:
JK Rowling's choice in her description of house elf service indicts all the wizards who make use of elf labor. Dobby and Kreacher are forced to do things that they don't want to do. Whether it is their inherent nature or whatever it is, they are enslaved.
There are two main approaches to this in fanfiction:

1. The wizarding world is archaic, backwards, and altogether pretty horrible. The good guys are going along with an evil practice, the bad guys are just more abusive.
2. Hermione is wrong. House elves draw their magic from their service (or from the families they serve) and they are broadly quite happy about this relationship. Dobby is an oddball as is Kreacher.

In stories where such injustices are a main focus of the story the first approach is useful. But not everyone wants to go that route. The problem with the 2nd route is that we know that house elves are bound to do things against their will. Even if they need to bond with a magical family to live, it's still objectionable that they can be forced to do things they don't want to do.
But, it is possible to write house elves so that the good guys are good, the bad guys are bad, and everything in canon still works.
You could have an entire race of magical beings who are benevolent and just love helping others. They have all this magic and it gives them so much purpose and fulfillment to help and have no desire for reward or acknowledgment.
For most elves, the ability to serve a family for all their days is their dream arrangement. They don't care if they are acknowledged or praised (in fact, praise makes them shy and embarrassed). They look at any request (and they don't care at all if it is worded as an order) as a gift to them.
Wizards naturally become accustomed to having these beings serve them, and so tend not to even think about it, so when a witch or wizard treats them with dignity and respect it is still surprising to them. But most wizards do not actively hurt their house elves. After all, what is the point of punishing someone who gladly does everything you say anyway?
Then you have wizards like the Blacks and Malfoys who tricked/forced these kind beings into magical oaths or enslaved them through dark magic, stripping them of their free will and ability to disobey. They punish their elves for things that are not their fault, ordering them to hurt themselves, etc.
Unless there is some place in canon that says ALL elves must obey, it could simply be the case that most elves are not forced to do anything they do not wish to. They work and serve because that is all that they want to do. Only the dark families twist that into abuse and compulsion.
Thoughts?

Description: In the infernal depths of Hell, where it is divided by two powerful continents vying for control surrounded by a circling sea of lava and countless fortresses of beings unknown to the realms--the Magma Depths--young Kaiden Torchspire of House Satan of the Wrathlands finds out about the incoming invasion from the never-mentioned divine realm of Heaven. And so Torchspire decides to take action and goes on an expansive, definitely-long-term quest to unite the two continents so they can finally destroy Heaven. His journey begins with an untold fortress of the Magma Depths. Me, the writer, has always been fond of on the concept of turning real life concepts into a powerful fantasy series, and so, with inspiration from A Song of Ice and Fire I decided to turn Christianity into an epic fantasy universe.
Book #1: The Hellfire War
Chapter One: Blood Oath and Unexpected Visitors
"Our infernal realm is what keeps us going." said the dark-winged figure of dark crimson skin and a heavily-singed leather toga carrying multiple forms of weaponry, coldly. The figure's eyes were a dull dead gray, his pupils etched with a faint red-energy. He had snaky-like hair and both the claws on his bare feet and hands were raven-shaded and extremely sharp. This figure was Dreadwing Satan, of House Satan--the ruling governance of the Wrathlands. Dreadwing was apart of the main family within House Satan--that being Satan, obviously. The ruling house of the Wrathlands is divided by three families: the Satan family, the Lucious family, and the Torchspire family. "And so," began Dreadwing, his voice always consisting an icy and menacing quality, also with a hint of gruffness. "It is what binds the Realm of Torture together. And so, today we are enacting one of the Realm of Torture's most oldest traditions that symbolizes our determination to stand firm and fight against the ongoing flames of damnation and..." While the ruling figure of House Satan kept on going, one of the countless members of the audience--Kaiden Torchspire, of the Torchspire branch of House Satan--was feeling extremely anxious about the upcoming tradition. The Blood Oath.
Kaiden had the ordinary dull dead gray eyes, but his pupils was etched with a faint purple-energy. His raven-shaded slick hair was greasy and dirty, and his crimson skin etched with countless aching bruises--all of that probably coming from his training sessions in his house's fortress' central training room. His claws were a dull pale white, and he was wearing classical tattered demon clothes but had dark-steel shoulder pads. Kaiden's relationship with the Torchspire family always seemed like sort of a curse; since he had to go through endless and rigourous training. But he always thought to himself that he was being ungrateful; since his life was more lucky then then what the lower ranks of demons within the Realm of Torture always had the short-end-of-the-stick.
The Blood Oath was a tradition almost as ancient as Hell itself, maybe it was, but the specific timing of its creation is unknown to the infernal society. The Blood Oath was a special ritual; where they would get countless cups of blood through rigiourous fighting and offer it to the ancient Seven Princes of Hell--the original inhabitance of the infernal realm. And only the ruling Houses of Hell had to participate in this demonic cultural event.
"...And so," began Dreadwing Satan once again. "It is of great pleasure to me and the ruling demons of the Lucious branch and the Torchspire branch of House Satan, that we hereby start the Blood Oath ceremonial line of events by the Night of Stars as usual. A message to the demons of both Lucious origin and Torchspire origin; best of luck in the perils ahead."
To any normal person in the Human World those lasts couple of words would deeply frighten them; but to demons like Kaiden it did not--since it happens every year.
Kaiden sat on his bed-made-for-a-king and laid there for a long time; he only had five days until the Night of Stars--the night that begins the Blood Oath tradition. The Night of Stars was chosen because of its legendary happenings within it; that were the nighttime in the infernal depths of Hell became the exact same appearance as the nights of the Human World; raven-shaded, and filled to the brim with hundreds of thousands of small dots of bright light--stars. The Torchspire youngling got up from his bed and walked out the grand dark-wooden doors that were the entrance and exit of the his bedroom, and shutting them close behind them. It was time for his daily training session. He continued walking through the large halls of the Torchspire fortress to the center room; the Damnation, which was the training room of the fortress. When he reached the large stone doors leading to the Damnation, he opened them up with ease and walked in confidently. Inside the massive training room was countless tactical practice exercises; such as dummies, targets with countless arrows in it, and even some cages that had human souls, where demons would practice torturing; since that was the fundamental task of the Realm of Torture and the original intent for the creation of Hell, at least until the formation of the Refuge Lands. On the right side of the Damnation was tall and slightly-muscular demon; his body of dark crimson, his raven-shaded hair greasy and dirty just like Kaiden's, and had the same exact pale white claws on both his barefeet and hands. He also had the same tattered leather clothes of demons, but were less tattered since he hasn't been as much training sessions after those new clothes were made. And he wore hard-steel shoulder pads similar to Kaiden's. This demonic figure was Kaiden's older brother; Domino Torchspire. He was also his partner-in-training. Kaiden walked towards the older Torchspire and when he reached him, Domino turned around and grinned as he saw his younger brother. Kaiden could see his gray eyes that were etched with the same faint purple-energy. "You're late, Kai." Shut up, you big oath. Kaiden thought to himself and then grinned. "Well, at least I wasn't too late that our father had to punish me by "means of unjustness."" Kaiden smirkingly remarked, since he was referencing what happened the day before. Domino frowned at his comment. "Shut up, Kaiden. Father would never punish his heir." "Yeah well, we'll see about that-" Kaiden never got to finish that remark when the grand doors of the Damnation flew upon and Kaiden and Domino's father burst in, his skin the casual dark crimson, had tattered leather robes, raven-shaded greasy hair, his claws on his feet and hands a pale white, and his eyes was an unusual dark-gray color, but still had the faint purple energy in his pitch-black pupils. Behind their father--Blackwood Torchspire--was a few dozen demon guards, that were covered in hard-steel armor. Their father turned to them and then began walking towards them, and then began speaking with his casual gruff but cold voice. "Domino, Kaiden, it would seem we have unexpected visitors. It's the Dull." The young and older Torchspire's eyes widened with surprise; since visits from the Dull. Of course, most demons knew of the Dull; they were the main unit of enforcement in the Realm of Torture. Their elite order was founded at the time right after the disappearance of the Seven Princes, and were known throughout the infernal depths as the most capable enforcement team in the Realm of Torture. The Dull are also known for their unparalleled mercilessness and an alarming will to vanquish any being that retaliates and gets in the way of their tasks. But now, presumably, they have come to the fortress of one of the three families of House Satan, one of the ruling governance forces in the Realm of Torture.

Sswcd is one of he biggest steng character in alg of fricdion and he is above big numker beyong beyond beyond beyond beyond mathematics power level and is god character and is solo and beats everything that exist in some negative beyond percent fraction of THE from all dimensions wiki because they are concept,no concept,meta concept,trans concept,post concept,all in the middle of those,etc
Dnsisiwhsnwh
destroying emperor of memekind you think empeorr is most powerful he will get absolutely cooked godmode fanboy
1.the emperor of memekinds abilitys are weak as sccd has bassiclay the exact same abilitys in his godmodes page and jalkar shows even more of his abilites in eternal perishing. also his abilitys are debatably stronger

1. iiuttl > sccd > hu lock > the limbo > x lock > tail > piel > emperor of memekind true form iiuttl,h lock, the limbo and etc which sccd is above most ive shown here can easily destroy composite godmodes abilitys and hax,a nd even v-lock one shots this fodder
   
2. sccd is beyond innefable (aka apophatic), because indescribe is description and unwordable is a word.
   
3. 90% of all verses in the omniverse container of the stronger verses destroy godmodes
   
4. you give emperor a tier and tiers are concepts while sccd has no tier in his page and never will have
   
5. sccd also solos because he is way more well written than this fodder only made for the purpose of powerscaling
   
6. Sccds verse have more cosmology the cosmology solos memeverse and godmodes cosmology
   
7. Sccd absorbs him
   

9.no amount of meme force can kill sccd as he transcend memes! And is beyond meme force!!!!!!
debunking emperor feats 1. the emperor of memekind is not stronger than god. god created humans who created the emperor of memekind on godmodes wiki
2."Notable Victories: Everyone who ISN'T The Emperor of Memekind" welp wrong because god,sccd,98% of actuality index,any big fg number,etc one shots the entire godmodes fodderverse

1. if i remember somebody said he beats all of fg which is 10947129873982137193798739% false

4."(Note: All of The Emperor of Memekind's attacks bypass all durability, hax and instakill no matter what. They are also beyond the concept of memes, meaning even the dankest memes will be rekt. Also, opponents that cannot be harmed will be harmed. The Emperor of Memekind can kill anything and everything, no matter what you say, it'll be killed. Also, they cannot be reflected or absorbed. It also bypasses regeneration. All of his notable attacks/techniques are enchanted with Fuck your No Us, Durability, Illogical Terms, Arguments, Powers and Abilities, Notable Attacks/Techniques, and Offensive Categories L̅X̅I̅X̅CDXX. And just to drive the final nails in the coffin, this is not the full list of what he can do. The Emperor of Memekind can have any attack, technique, or whatever that he wants to have, even those not possible, inconceivable, or have yet to exist. The following notable attacks/techniques are simply his preferred attacks to use, and he wields all of these notable attacks/techniques the best out of anyone. Such is the might of The Emperor of Memekind.)" ok wuick debunk "The Emperor of Memekind can have any attack, technique, or whatever that he wants to have, even those not possible, inconceivable, or have yet to exist." i can just say trans-possible, trans-transpossible,post-possible,etc abilites and this goes poof "he Emperor of Memekind can kill anything and everything" sccd is not a thing soo.

1. " The Emperor of Memekind says "Zoinks", which automatically destroys everything, nothing and all the made up "super nothings" or "super everythings" which will ever and never exist and instantly kills anything and anyone even the ones that has surpassed the concept of death and life and similar in just an OmniEmperorOfMemekindfinityth of a second" i can just say hyper everythings,hyper nothings,ultra nothings,ultra everythings,etc and this is surpassed no diff

6, "true form: B͚͙͈̗̼̥͚̭͆̀̎̃͛ͅḙ̼̫͎̗̮̰͇̼̇̏̒̕̚̕͡y̢̭̱̞̘͎͓͚̪̓́̋̏̃̑͆̕͠o̭̩͔͖̦̼͙͑̎͊͒͆n̢̬̙̮̜̪̭̈̋͐̄̎́̚̚ͅd̢̡̢̲͖̼͙͎͓̋͛͛̅̾̏̂̄ a̧̺̤̖̤͉̩͔̺̋̐̓͐͒̑͌͢͡͝͞l̷͚̻̹̣͖̱͓̗͌̓̊͂͌͌̈́̽̏l̴̥͎̻͉̖͉̜̍̉́̆͛̈̌̉͗͛ ṫ̨̻̗͎̬͈̺̽̎̋̓̏́͑̊͞h̸̗̲̮̫̹̱̺͆͑͆̍͂ȏ̷͇̯̤̮͇̭͙͚̈́͌̉̉̍͗̉͊͒͟ư̪̫̝͑͋̓̓̋̓͂̄͆͟͢g̴̪̫̘̹̖̟̳̓̀̇̔̽̍́͒̌̕͜͜ͅḫ̛̝͚̺͚͑͑̑͋̋͌͗͊̓ţ̴̼̙̰̹̿̓̃͐̈̾̈́̕͜͞s̨̢̘͔͇̲͍̋̾͒̅̉͢ͅ a̶̞̤̖͙̫̺͍͛̍͗͆́͡͝͠ń̡̩̮̠͖̟̜̜̳̀̆̽͊̾́̆́̉ͅd̫͎̠̬͗̓̇͌̌̒̕͡͞ͅ u̷͇̙̫̪̫̎̔̄̑́͜͝n̷̺̙̺̟̠̥̻̹̙̪͒̓͛̔̈̿̆̾͝͠d̵̼̜̞͉͎̪̋̀͂͂̊ë̢̛̹͕̞̱̀̀̉̃̔̇̚͞r̷̡̮̤͓͙̘̲͎̹̀̽̇̀̋͢͡͞ş̡̼͕̻̥̎̔̒́̍̏̕̕͢͞͝t̨̳͖̥͍̳͒͒̉͘͞å̷̯̲͕͈̬͌̀̓̀͘͘n̶̢̯̭͉̫̦̞̂͛̀̽̅͟͟͟͡d̶͎̦̭͚̮͕̠́̀̏͊̾̒̊̕i̥̫̪͉̤̝̝̥̰̼̍̃̊̿̃̓͞n̸̢̳̱̹͖̋͂̾̀̆̈̀͂͗͂͜ģ̶̡̧̛̮̥̼̮͕̋̾̋̀̍̑͛͜͞͝" collapsed into description
7."SOOK: You fool, The Emperor of Memekind does not "succ", he...SOOK! He SOOKS literally everything, nothing and all the made up "super nothings" or "super everythings" which will ever and never exist and everyone but him into his mouth, instantly destroying/killing them." again with the surpassing super nothings and super everythings
"Fuck you, I win/Nah, I'd win/You lose! You get nothing! Good day, sir: The Emperor of Memekind instantly wins for like...no reason at all.". umm doesnt work on sccd "Invalid: If you in any way, shape or form say you're smarter or stronger than the Emperor of Memekind, what you just said was clearly invalid, and as such, all your opinions immediately become invalid. As such, any attacks, abilities, passive abilities by your existence, and anything remotely related to those things become invalid on the Emperor of Memekind and as such, do not work. If you say otherwise, you are invalid. This does not apply to the Emperor of Memekind. Let The Hate Flow Through You: If you hate on The Emperor of Memekind in any way, shape or form (examples of this include, but are not limited to: downplaying/lowballing him or even calling him weak), The Emperor of Memekind uses your hatred to increase his power by OmniEmperorOfMemekindfinity, thus making him even stronger than he already is."

1. both of these dont work on sccd the first one sccd has the same ability and for the 2nd one sccd also has
   
2. omniemperormemekindfinity has no defined size and is probably small compared to even quasi-v-lock
   
3. Emperor of memekind use -omniemperormemekindfinity% of his power 99% of time but percentages are concepts
   

In conclusion Sccd

I misspelled it on the title. My bad. Its Avetåålskå.
Hello, or, as one would say in my conlang, Hållo! My conlang, Avetååskå /ɑʋɛtʊːlskʊ/, known in Norwegian as Elvsnakke and is often referred to as Finnmark Norse, because it is spoken in the northernmost region of Norway, Finnmark, as well as parts of Finland, Sweden, and Russia.
It is a North Germanic language of the Western branch, closely related to Norwegian, wiah heavy influence in its grammar and phonology from the Sámi languages, Kven, and Finnish, due to its proximity and some shared culture between the groups.
To characterize its typology and features generally, it retains a number of archaic roots that Norwegian lacks, and, when compared to the Germanic languages as a whole, is considerably more agglutinative and grammatically divergent, with a lot of grammatical features unique to the language and others borrowed from Finnish.
Here is the phonology of the language, excluding those created by allophones:

• Nasals: m n ŋ
• Stops: p b t d k g
• Fricatives: f s ʂ ç ʝ x h
• Affricates: ʦ ʈ͡ʂ
• Approximants: ʋ l j
• Trill: r
• Vowels: ɑ ɛ ø i y ʉ ɨ ɔ o ʊ

Note that all vowels have a long form, though their long form isn't exactly the same in terms of pronunciation as their short/standard form.
Here is a generally unacademic/chill/casual description of the allophony/mutation system in Avetåålskå. Note that the mutations, such as the nasal palatalization or voiced plosive lenition, are not written in the spelling system but are exclusively pronounced, with the exception of gemination, which is written:

• All voiced plosives lenite to their fricative form intervocalically, when geminated, and in word-final position
  • d = ð, b = β, g = ɣ
• ɔ = o when long, word-initial, or word-final
• ɨ = i when long, word-final, or stressed
• at the end of the word = schwa
• the ng combination always is realized as ŋ, no exceptions as the g and the alveolar nasals are not allowed together
• Nasals before ç & ʝ palatalize, as does the nasal + j cluster
  • n= ɲ, ŋ = ŋʲ, m = mʲ
• Two of the same consonant are geminated
• ʉ = u when long, word-final, or stressed
• ɛ = e when long, word-final, or stressed
• r > ɹ before ð, β, ɣ
• Two standard vowels right next to each other diphthongize, you cannot have two long vowels or any long-short vowel combinations right next to each other, nor can you have two of the same vowel next to each other, as those would just mutate into the long form
• f > v intervocalically or after an initial vowel

The following list is the spelling for sounds that differ than their IPA symbol, as well as all the vowels cuz thats easiest: ŋ = ng ʂ > sj ç > kj ʝ > gj x > ch ʦ > ts ʈ͡ʂ > tj ʋ > v ɑ > a ɑː > á ɛ > e eː > é ø > ö øː > öö ɨ > i iː > í y > y yː > ý ʉ > u uː > ú ɔ > o oː > ó ʊ > å ʊː > åå
Now, I haven't quite figured out how these sounds would evolve from Old Norse, but I based them mostly off Norwegian and Finnish, which would fit the area and the history I have in mind.
Now, let's look at a short paragraph in the language and compare it with the same paragraph in English, Norwegian, and Finnish. Please note that I am not fluent in Finnish, though I have been studying it for several years, and I am definitely not fluent in Norwegian, so be aware that the excerpts from those two languages, Norwegian in particular, are likely to be messy. I'm also not entirely finished with the language either, so this is kind of a rough format and I aim for it to be more naturalistic over time.
English: The language of Finnmark is widely regarded to be very beautiful, often considered to be like the beauty of the land itself. Unfortunately, however, there are not many speakers left, as overtime assimilation into surrounding cultures and language opression have left the native speakers scattered and isolated. But, like many minority languages, there is enough of a revival movement to give hope for the languages survival in the future.
Norwegian: Språket i Finnmark er allment ansett for å være veldig vakkert, ofte ansett for å være som skjønnheten i selve landet. Dessverre er det imidlertid ikke mange foredragsholdere igjen, ettersom overtidsassimilering i omkringliggende kulturer og språkundertrykkelse har gjort morsmålene spredt og isolert. Men, som mange minoritetsspråk, er det nok av en vekkelsesbevegelse til å gi håp for språkets overlevelse i fremtiden.
Finnish: Finnmarkin kieltä pidetään laajalti erittäin kauniina, usein myös itse maan kauneudena. Valitettavasti puhujia ei ole enää montaa jäljellä, sillä ylityöllinen assimilaatio ympäröiviin kulttuureihin ja kielten sorro ovat jättäneet äidinkielenään puhujat hajallaan ja eristyksissä. Mutta kuten monien vähemmistökielten, herätysliikettä on riittävästi antamaan toivoa kielten selviytymisestä tulevaisuudessa.
Avetåålskå: Tångaden Finnmarkeretör kaunihettetör, uften betrakteter kaunitör sommát segelve. Vukjedig, erímo, deterein tångaja ederlá, asimmilerikúte nåmég isååkultúri ajattid ogjortoa tångaltav ederlásim ösjöörripe tångaj haváler ogjeríster. Mennut, somtångaene litenettet, ekklessedener líkettenát antáhåp tångavárte poasjáherte.
Thoughts?

Hey all, I have an 07 Wrangler X with 130k miles and a soft top. It’s time to get a new car, and I’m thinking about just getting a newer Jeep. Newer as in 18-23 years.
I’ve had my Jeep for 10 years now and for some reason I’m just now starting to get annoyed with how loud the interior is, mainly on the highway.
So a few questions..
1): is the newer jeeps “quieter” at all? Do hard tops make a huge difference?
2): Anything I can do to get better gas mileage and a smoother ride? I’d like to take it for long road trips, but there’s no way I’d drive more than 2 hours in my current Jeep haha.
I know words like “quiet”, “better gas mileage” and “smooth” aren’t in Jeep dictionaries, but just curious what others have done to make their vehicle the best they can. My Jeep is a daily driver and my only vehicle also.
I thought about getting a WRX, but after a lot of research, I don’t want to deal with them haha.