Continuing on from part 1 (vault), in the lead up to the summer team selections and the Olympics, I am previewing the anticipated event final fields! Today: uneven bars.
All data is sourced from u/bretonstripes, u/freifrausicher, and Lauren from The Gymternet - thanks for your efforts!
Event Finalist Predictions
Note that gymnasts are listed by existing top score; this is not a prediction of the podium.

• Qiu Qiyuan 🇨🇳 (15.450)
• Kaylia Nemour 🇩🇿 (15.433)
• Shilese Jones 🇺🇸 (14.833)
• 2nd Chinese gymnast 🇨🇳 (14.366 - 14.800)
• Nina Derwael 🇧🇪 (14.700)
• Alice D'Amato 🇮🇹 (14.700)
• Melanie de Jesus dos Santos 🇫🇷 (14.533)
• 2nd American 🇺🇸 (14.466)

Preview
In the spirit of the Mustafina vs. Kocian duel of 2016 and the Derwael v. Lee duel of 2020, the bars final is once again anticipated to feature a showdown between a dominant top pair in Qiu 🇨🇳 and Nemour 🇩🇿. Together, they own the top 14 international scores since January 2023, and having both improved greatly in consistency, they are favored to take gold and silver in either order.
The early bronze medal favorite is Shilese Jones 🇺🇸, medalist in the previous two World finals, having hit 11 of her past 12 routines since a mental breakthrough in consistency at 2022 Worlds. A group of experienced competitors with a history of 14.5+ scores and routines in the 6.2-6.6 D-score can be expected to challenge Jones:

• Alice D'Amato 🇮🇹
• Rebeca Andrade 🇧🇷
• Rebecca Downie 🇬🇧
• Melanie de Jesus dos Santos 🇫🇷
• Naomi Visser 🇳🇱

As this group is rather inconsistent, D'Amato 🇮🇹 may have positioned herself as the most likely medal spoiler by hitting all six of her routines to date this year, including defending her European title. Andrade 🇧🇷 has also shown decent consistency this quad hitting 11 of her last 12 and 22 of 25 this quad; however, all three misses came at Worlds 2022 or 2023.
These eight gymnasts alone would make an extremely deep bars final, but there are three "dark horses" who could shake things up, both for the bronze medal race and qualification to the final:

1. Nina Derwael 🇧🇪: The reigning Olympic champion made an extremely impressive recovery from a shoulder dislocation in late 2023. Despite falling at Euros QF on bars, Derwael is on-track to be competitive in Paris, as adding back her trusty Downie or Nabieva boosts her to a 6.3 D-score. She is also no longer attempting any Tkatchev 1/2 skill which could boost her execution score, and is typically one of the most consistent bars workers.
2. 2nd Chinese 🇨🇳 gymnast: Had China been able to keep two-time World Champion Wei Xiaoyuan healthy, she likely would be the bronze medal favorite over Jones. Nevertheless, China has shown impressive depth on this event in 2024. Yang Fanyuwei, Hu Jiafei, and Zhang Yihan have all earned high scores with hit 6.4 routines internationally, while Huang Zhuofan (6.8) and Du Siyu (6.6) hit their difficult routines at nationals. Zhang Yihan and Du Siyu are the most likely to make the team currently, and though neither are favored to medal, it wouldn't be a shock either.
3. 2nd American 🇺🇸 gymnast: Biles has teased a couple upgrades on social media which could put her back in the medal game, but the real unknowns in the American bars scene are Lee and Douglas. Without any scores for hit routines and with questions swirling about stamina, they need to show strong performances at nationals to be considered team contenders, much less potential medalists. However, both are set to attempt at least a 6.4 difficulty routine, which would put them in the mix for bronze given their typically high execution scores.

Interesting notes:

• While both the vault field and the bars field features the reigning World medalists favored to podium once again this year, the rest of the bars field is much deeper: only Visser 🇳🇱 made the 2023 final of the top challengers listed here. Charpy's 14.133 cutoff last year could rise at least four tenths of a point for the Olympic final, whereas vault is expected to rise at most two tenths.
• The difficulty at the top of the bars field has been pushed so far in the last eight years: Mustafina's routine (the most difficult in the Rio 2016 final) is valued at 6.4 today, while both Qiu 🇨🇳 and Nemour 🇩🇿 are likely to attempt routines valued at a gigantic 7.2 D-score. These two gymnasts may well be performing the most difficult routines of all time on this event!
  • Specifically, Qiu's routine has a massive 4.2 points in base value from the top 8 skills, while Nemour's routine "only" has 3.9 base value but earns a whopping 1.3 points in bonus.
• Should Zhang Yihan 🇨🇳 compete, she will be the the first WAG to compete two layout skills on bars at the Olympics - Derwael competed two at the Osijek World Cup 2021.
• Should Rebecca Downie 🇬🇧 medal, she will be the second-oldest uneven bars medalist (age 32) at the Olympics after Agnes Keleti in 1956 (age 35)!

Top Eight International Scorers of 2024 Italicized gymnasts are ineligible for the Tokyo Final (didn't qualify or 2PC)

Rank	Gymnast	Score	Difficulty
1	Qiu Qiyuan 🇨🇳	15.450	6.8
2	Kaylia Nemour 🇩🇿	15.433	7.0
3	Kate McDonald 🇦🇺	14.850	6.1
4	Yang Fanyuwei 🇨🇳	14.800	6.4
5	Rebeca Andrade 🇧🇷	14.700	6.2
6	Alice D'Amato 🇮🇹	14.700	6.4
7	Rebecca Downie 🇬🇧	14.633	6.6
	Hu Jiafei 🇨🇳	14.600	6.4
8	Melanie de Jesus dos Santos 🇫🇷	14.533	6.2
	Zhang Yihan 🇨🇳	14.500	6.4
R1	Elisa Iorio 🇮🇹	14.466	6.3
R2	Elsabeth Black 🇨🇦	14.400	6.0
R3	Jayla Hang 🇺🇸	14.350	5.9

Relevant 2023 Scores

Gymnast	Score	Difficulty	Event
Shilese Jones 🇺🇸	14.833	6.4	Worlds
Huang Zhuofan 🇨🇳	14.766	6.5	Worlds
Naomi Visser 🇳🇱	14.566	6.2	Osijek
Simone Biles 🇺🇸	14.466	6.0	Worlds
Elisabeth Seitz 🇩🇪	14.400	6.1	Euros
Du Siyu 🇨🇳	14.366	6.2	Universaide
Lorette Charpy 🇫🇷	14.133	6.0	Worlds

Other Relevant Scores

Gymnast	Score	Difficulty	Event
Rebeca Andrade 🇧🇷	14.967	6.1	2022 Pan Ams
Nina Derwael 🇧🇪	14.700	6.3	2022 Worlds
Sanna Veerman 🇳🇱	14.533	6.3	2022 Worlds

​

Everything you did was always out of your control. You never held yourself accountable for your own actions. Maybe it was "a bad day" or "you were was so stressed that you forgot" but in 3 years I only ever got a decent apology once for you constantly screaming at me during our arguments. Your mother is a raging narcissist so you didn't even want me to usher the word in your presence. Everytime you hurt me and I asked you to change the things that made me feel small you always ended with "I don't want to promise you because I'm not sure I won't do it again and it will only hurt you more " knowing damn well that I would rather hear you promise me and see you fail trying instead of not even committing to it in the first place. It always made me feel like you were still trying to give yourself an excuse again when you did the same shit over and over again. You often said "You can't expect me to change over night, it takes time" even when I asked you for small things like hanging up my towel after showering because you put yours on the drying rack and mine crumbled up on the washing machine. You don't need weeks to show consideration for other when your brain works in a normal way that understands affection and appreciation. When I was down or annoyed because you treated me bad it was always me who apparently didn't have his emotions under control. Everytime you did something wrong or selfish it was always my fault. You often said things like "I was afraid how you would react so I got scared and stressed" so I had to apolizige to you for your own behaviour. For 3 years I always apologized, got more angry, aggressive and turned into a person I wouldn't even want to have around myself. Your friends tell you I'm being overdramatic and crazy because you never tells them how unappreciated you made me feel. You only mention the things that triggered me at specific moments and downplayed them because without context they didn't seem that grand. You never had anyone als close as me in your life who would see the real you, relied on you and would hold you accountable for your own actions. Most of your friendships are just texting every few days, talking over discord every few weeks or meeting up with a different person out of a pool of 20 twice a week to go to Burger King. Every time it came up you started crying and screaming that these people are your family. When we talked about things that hurt me you always cried to try to somehow end the conversation and when I mentioned the things at a later time you accused me of "Starting over again" because in your mind the topic was finished. Because my feelings didn't matter and your promise to maybe do better should be enough for me. You didn't care how anxious and lonely it made me feel. You always acted as if you considered my feelings but your actions showed otherwise. At first I was sad that you replaced me in only a week but it isn't love. You want to fill the void because you are an empty husk. You have a crush on someone who has had the same trans experience as you and are a slave to your own hormones because of the testosterone indunced puberty. I feel sorry for him because you are going to hurt him as well. You can't think of others and will never be able to have genuine relationships. A lot of selfishs acts were excused by your need for polyamory and how you can love multiple people at once when you couldn't even commit to a single person to begin with. When you were broken and alone I build you up and and supported you without any conditions. Now that you broke me I get tossed aside. During the first year I couldn't even be alone for one hour a day to decompress because it made you feel rejected and alone even when you knew damn well about my ADHD induced sensory overload and hoe important it was for my mental health. My feelings didn't matter because you drowned them out with your crying and loneliness. I was foolish enough to let you. I feel genuinely sorry for you because you think you are a good person but you won't even consider your own illness because of your childhood trauma. Your own therapist isn't going to considering narcissisn because you twists your own memories into a way that fits your current feelings so you will never get the help you need and be held accountable for your own actions. How often did I hear that your friends think I'm making it all up but how would these people ever see the real you when your interactions are limited to talking on discord every few weeks, them staying over once every 3 months to go out for partying or you going to burger king to chat with them for a few hours once a month. You told me a lot of people considered you to be their best friend in the past but all you connections are shallow and artifical. Otherwise you wouldn't have broken down the second I gave you genuine affection on our third date for the first time in your life. How often did I make breakfast in bed, did your laundry, bought your groceries or picked you up from work as a surprise without you even asking and you never tried the same for me because "I just don't think of those things". You would rather stay in bed till 14:00 to watch YouTube Shorts ehome I was at worn. I gave too much for to little. I wake up in the morning with burning skin and a pressure on my chest that leaves me breathless because I imagine you with him but it will pass. Your selfishness won't. I hope you get the help you need. Goodbye.

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

hi, im a 19(F) who in the past year has dealt with two ghosters who used to be my irl friends, but slowly begun to dislike me overtime for some reason - for this first ghoster, we will call them Apple and for the second ghoster, we will call her Banana for privacy reasons
so let’s start with Apple. i’ve been friends with Apple for 7 years (middle school-high school) and while we weren’t close close because of our different interests, we’ve gotten each other thoughtful and meaningful birthday gifts and talked on social media a lot — when we were seniors in high school, which was last year, after our winter break they had begun to ignore me on social media - we still saw each other irl so i thought nothing of it, but i still felt some sort of loneliness and lack of closeness from them. in may (last year) when we graduated, apple was still ignoring my messages so i decided to only text them every few months as to not bother them - around oct, i had checked one of our social media to see that they soft blocked me, and i assumed they had done so in the middle of summer sometime. they had also gotten into new interests within that time, something i actually knew about so that we could’ve had a convo - it never happened.
in nov, i had asked one of their friends if she knew how apple was doing, and the friend didn’t feel comfortable telling me (which i respected) so then on thanksgiving, i messaged apple for closure and an explanation in hopes of finally getting a response - still nothing. apple was even online, and completely ignoring and ghosting me. it really hurt me.
things soon took an invasive turn. in december, i had continued to respectfully ask apple’s other friends if they knew anything about apple ghosting me. they said no. i even offered to give one of them context via my text messages with apple, which i know now was a complete inappropriate move on my part, because even if i didn’t actually send them, i still considered sending them, which is wrong. i was desperate to find out the truth. apple unfriended me on social media for talking with their friend, but didn’t completely block me yet.
in mid january, our friendship ended. i was still feeling desperate and needing to know why apple ghosted me. so i messaged another one of their friends to ask if they knew anything about me being ghosted (i did not send anything personal). the friend had no idea but told me that they would show apple our conversation.
(i also put apple in my dni on my new social media account, made a sarcastic comment abt them ghosting me but also allowing them to message me if they wanted. i was feeling spiteful and annoyed at the time)
i soon got an angry, harsh message from apple.
the message was basically that i lost the right to know why they stopped talking to me (remember this for later), disrespected apple for wanting to share our personal information and relentlessly bothering their friends. (i do agree on that part and it is my fault, although i was very respectful when they all said they had no idea and i apologized to them all) — apple also said they didn’t ghost themselves from me, but rather distanced themselves from me — as they said, i agree that’s completely fine and normal - however, it becomes a problem when you don’t say you’re going to distance yourself from said person, because apple still had me added on other social media before that day, and apple gave me a heartfelt message in our yearbook (but I actually never got to write in theirs) - so ofc i got mixed signals
anyways, apple basically told me to get a life off my phone and that they will never contact me again. okay, i accept that (except the ‘go touch grass’ part that was uncalled for, but it was the heat of the moment so i understand their anger) — now, remember the ‘lost the right to know why i stopped talking to you’? - apple constricted themselves a few sentences later saying that they didn’t want to make a big deal ending a backboned friendship (of 7 years, mind you!), which im assuming implies that they never valued our friendship as much as i did. (ofc sometimes our friendship was rocky at times, but i always apologized in the end.)
one thing that makes me mad abt the message is that apple never took responsibility for their actions that begun all of this, never once replying to my messages and even knowing how much i was hurting from the closure message i sent them two months ago, they did not care about my feelings in the slightest - i know they said they would never contact me again, but at least think of the happy memories we had once before and once you’ve come down from your anger, take the responsibility as i did. but i guess i wasn’t worth it.
afterwards, i ended up breaking down and crying a few days later because the deserved hurtful message really made me feeling upset for weeks - I even vented to my own friends about the whole situation but idk i feel like some of them didn’t really care or just got annoyed with me because i did the invasive thing and probably still are so i felt like i couldn’t talk about my own feelings with anyone and take in my sadness alone
it’s been a few months since then so i’ve moved on from my first ghoster and i still don’t have many irl friends to this day, but i do wish them the best, even if we ended on a sour note. i’d say we were both at fault here, and it could’ve worked out had we just communicated and talk it out. but i suppose we’re better off and maybe we were just too toxic for one another. i am still sorry for everything that went wrong. i can only hope my first ghoster is too, deep down.
now to you all, i’ve told you mainly everything that happened without leaving any important details out. i wanted to share my mistakes with you and not keep it in the dark, because it’s important to own up to them. ik im just a throwaway account here, but i hope you can see where i was coming from, even if it was an unconventional method. i am sorry. i would really appreciate it if you guys don’t entirely focus on that part, but if you need to, i understand.
part 2 regarding my second ghoster will be up in a few days. if you’ve read this far, thank you very much. it felt good getting my feelings out to this community, i just hope you all will be understanding that. i may still make mistakes from time to time, but i will learn from them with each passing day. thank you.

A conversation with a few friends of mine some skins have certain audiences to them and certain people will pick them more than others that's just the nature of people, and sometimes these people can be fit into certain groups, and certain stereotypes which is also nature of people. So I will be talking about these stereotypes, with 4-8 champs at a time depending on how many skins they have, starting with- Not androxus- but some general skin types etc.
Let me start off by saying that stereotypes are broad, and over generalized by nature, and not everyone is the same we're not Buzz Lightyear here, at the very least these are meant for fun.

Basic Recolours

The recolours you can buy for gold often attract semi-new players those that got the champions they like and often will spend "extra" gold on recolours.
They're most likely new at the game, or at the very least their champion.
Certain recolours will be brought up again per champion if they add anything different or have a different stereotype.

System Recolours/Promotional Recolours

So these guys probably are more likely to be even newer than the basic recolours since they got them from linking accounts or following/subscribing to different social media and all that.

Mastery/Gold Skins

Assuming it's gold they're probably confident in their skill with a champion and want to display that, but with the obsidian and cosmic ones they tend to be the same as basic and promotional recolours.

Invitational/Event Recolours

Okay so we're done with recolours after this I promise but often these are old school players, often ignoring the actual quality of skins to more say that's when they were around.

Hats

Hats are kinda the same as the event/invitation recolours but they can also be found on new players who got the hat from a chest, in general if they have a proper skin they'll dump these for the skin so at the very least that leaves semi experienced players who finds the frog hat more funny than they do the cowboy cool.

Androxus

It's fair to say that Android is the poster boy of paladins and since he's relatively old he's got a lot of skins over the years and he's got quite the audience, I mean really he's the guy they show on the splash art of the game like imagine little Timmy seeing his older brother playing Androgenous "Who's the cool guy with the revolver and horns?" And his brother is like "That's my main Abolitionist" and then next game Timmy is playing Angrosist.
And they're very against nerfs every time pretending it'll kill Ambrosia and every time he's just fine maybe the fact he's got a solid baseline kit means he's not struggling when nerfs come knocking. Either way it doesn't stop the complaints.
Often Anglo (Okay the bits running thin) players take themselves seriously, whether you should depends, and depends alot. But he does inevitably attract edgelords, assholes, and blowhards.

Exalted

Exalted Andros tend to hold themselves in high regard but at the same time tend to suck, they bought this skin since it was cheap and with it are often not that great.

Imperator

So imperator is basically the same as exalted in looks but it does have the caveat that it's actually not as readily available which means someone has to make a active choice to run this, these guys are pretty much more for simplicity and class over complexity and fancy stuff, this means you'll see them play pretty good Andro where they'll stick to the stuff that works rather than flashy montage worthy stuff, they can do these but they more prefer understated competency over flashy nonsense.

Screech

This is a hat that actually has a stereotype since it's not apart of a chest it's from the deal of the day that makes a difference to who is using it. These guys are mostly raging blowhards, they think they're gods at the game but they're not as good as they believe, like antlers they say crap but not enough to get banned. This changes to just normal tryhards when they get their hands on shattermaw, almost every Andro with this skin and shattermaw are more interested in shitting on you and moving on to the next, they really only do really good in casuals without comms, but they can get work done in ranked.

Cangaceiro

Okay so this guy either uses the Shatter Maw and same deal as Screech Andro's or they run they Huntsman's gun and if you get to talk to them in a party or something they'll cry about how the pirate skins in Paladins Strike aren't ported over to paladins. It's weird and it's specific. They do tend to be nicer and less serious than Screech Andros.

Huntsman

These are the most average Andro's in existence, they certainly exist but they're not too interesting all considering. They're not bad or good, or particularly toxic or nice or anything like that, they just exist.

Steam Demon

I mean there's a Young Frankenstein joke to be made here. But Andro's running the steam demon skin tend to be uptight and expect people to carry their own weight... Of course the chance they tend to mess up they go silent, they're not rude perse but they sure do expect a lot.

Fallen

These are the guys who listened to Nightcore- Angel with a shotgun too much and will be very melodramatic, and tend to be almost always a downer for the team, they do clutch up though so something to be said.

Battlesuit Godslayer

No one really uses this skin if they have others, really this skin doesn't sell the gundam vibes the others do maybe it's because of his waistcost flowing back there but really he just looks like a guy in a robot suit

Steelforged/Dragonforged

These Andros are just as dramatic as Fallen Andros but they seem to be in on the joke and often will more be self aware, they will be playing like some viking bagpipe metal music so it's not all good with them.

Avatar

These guys probably blame their support and will unironically quots the skin, not realizing it's making fun of them. They also probably are tickled by the fact it looks likr a Xbox 360

Modded

Now often with battlepass skins their recolours are basically the same stereotype normally but for Modded these guys have basically brain rotten themselves down to the same level with their obsession with RGB lights.

Exterminate

Yeah another skin no one uses really, unless they're really interested in the cat in his backpack otherwise it's just not really a great skin since it's just a guy in a dragon ball z kai uniform without the cool ass powers and literal royalty free music.

Grave Danger

This is Kinda like omen it's not as self aware but it's hard to take this skin more seriously than default and these guys tend to be chill but it's a newer skin so it's not exactly like there's room to have a stereotype yet, which is fair but still other skins still have stereotypes that formed same day as their release.

Golden

Now it's rare that a gold skin that doesn't change something about a character shows up but this is widespread since every Andro on earth who runs this will almost always have a bloated ego, whether it's 50 or 550 these guys are super quick to be offended and will tunnel the shit out of you for just about anything.

Ash

Ash is weirdly uncommon despite being free, probably because everyone is running at point with her and she basically loses that engagement to every proper point tank, she is a offtank first and foremost after all.
As for stereotypes there is a few thing that I've noticed with Ash's (Ashes? Ashs? Ash players) First is if they're running the default voice pack even with other skins they're definitely offtanking.
And another oddity is the Ash mains that have more than one skin tend to never properly match their weapons and skins up, it's weird but every other Ash main I see runs a different weapon and skin.

Heirloom Crest

So I bring this hat up because unlike anyone else with a hat skin no one wears this, honestly it should just come with a different version of Ronin but really this is the exception to the hatskin rule, these guys are just new players who got it from a chest and felt justified in using it because they spent crystals on a chest.

Ronin

Ronin Ash players kinda just suck, it can be a matter of many different things as to why these guys struggle, they could suck at shooting people, they could be bad at positioning, trying to point tank, they're using their abilities at shit times, they could be great with all of that and still they'll have a terrible deck and talents.
These guys just suck

Xenobuster

Xenobuster Ash players tend to run into fights they shouldn't and lose, this more or less comes from the overuse of shoulder bash, otherwise they're probably running knock back spam, they're most likely to be found on TDM Throne or Abyss trying to wait around corners to throw you off. They will go spastic if you buy sentinel.

Street Style

These guys are meatheats, they're less interested in actually capturing the point and more just want teamfights, the objective and space are biproducts, as such you'll see these guys with really selfish buys, and decks, and they'll steal kills with slugshot, they're not doing it intentionally but they are rude.

Ska'Drin

Ska'Drin Ash players often properly play Ash as offtank and for the most part are good sports, it's nice enough at least when these guys are working with you, they will probably ask for someone to point tank while they do their thing.

Scorned

Another recolour with a different stereotype, these guys are also playing Ash as offtanks but their also raging assholes, and will bitch and moan from just about anything, whether it's their fault or not they'll yell at their team, though at the same time they are probably making space, and do their job well enough

Draconian Huntress

As mentioned earlier Ash mains tend to be rather rare, and the amount of people who'd go out of their way for this skin is rarer, these guys pretty much are guaranteed to be Ash mains or at the very least skin collectors. As for gameplay it's hard to say since I've seen like 4 people use this skin

Atlas

Atlas mains are pretty much obsessed with telling you they're Atlas mains it's like telling people you don't play fortnite or something. Like good on you mate, but I and I'm pretty sure most of the world don't really care. Skill ranges wildly and skins for the most part don't really change that.

Chronomancer

So uh this skin no one uses, you'll more likely find a Atlas running default with this Skin's gun, it's weird it's specific and I have no idea why it's like this... Oh yeah because Atlas looks awful without a beard.

Legionnaire

So Legionnaire Atlas is kinda a situation like Grave Danger Andro mostly because the skin again looks kind of goofy, though for the effort put into it, it's at least nice. Still these guys take themselves just as seriously as the skin does.

Corrupt/Vile

Most of these guys just suck like sure there's bound to be a good Corrupt or Vile Atlas out there but every one I've seen just sucks. It's a bloody shame since they're nice skins.

Azaan

Azaan doesn't really have too many skins to talk about but at the same time most people aren't exactly Azaan mains he's kind of a back pocket kind of champion.

Forgemaster

These guys actually main Azaan, and they're quick to get defensive on why they pick the shirtless Azaan skin

Dark Drake

I don't get how anyone understands this skin, it's so garbled and just nonsense, there's no real stereotype but I did find out that this skin has the same voice actor as Freddy Fazbear...

Barik

Again Barik mains are a rarity and, nost of the time I only really see last/bottom picks grabbing Barik and doing really nothing all game but cry about their team not carrying them.

Hi-Tek/Stonecut

If a champion has access to their pre-reworks skins and in general just older skins they're often on the cheaper side and really are just bought by newbies due to this, that's really it outside of the odd end nastolgia tripper.

Team Fortress 2

So you get this skin in a way that's similar to promotional recolours, and it's more or less exclusive to steam, it's a safe bet that a TF2 Barik is new at the game and on steam, that's it.

Swashbuckler

Pirate skins often invite people into running teams of pirates skins, outside of that Swashbuckler Bariks tend to more or less the point jockey they live on the point they die on the point.

Steel/Dragon Forged Barik

This guy listens to diggy diggy hole and probably runs some stupid deck that relies on a gimmick these guys are here for fun and will probably do something cool, maybe?

Betty

Betty is new-ish and so she only has the one skin, Betty kinda is the easy version of both Willo and Dredge without the impact of either, this means Betty attracts bad players.

Dragonette

Bowsette meme aside this is Betty's only real skin and so it's kinda broad to say anything but I assume once she gets something else it'll attract... A certain audience.
So yeah 5 champs, feel free to suggest anything for future champions I'll probably see or agree with them.

Wondering how many people feel as though they've come to the realisation part-way through their degree that what they're working towards is going to end up being little more than the thing on their resume to get them hired over the guy without tertiary education, and that they feel they haven't really learnt all that much?
I've done decently throughout my degree (in my final year), and have really tried to take an interest in a number of the topics being taught, but every course just feels like another chore and not something actually useful post-graduation. I feel as though my prospects of a great career solely using this degree aren't really that strong either, and I don't feel like really pursuing those jobs anyway due to my lack of enthusiasm in the content, but I feel as though I've sunk too much time and money into this degree to pull out now, relatively close to the end (sunk cost fallacy etc.) so... I just keep going, knowing I'll feel only marginally more knowledgable on any topic than I did before I even started studying.
Yeah, I know I should have dropped out sooner, but a mix of optimism (i.e. hoping I'd like it more once I got stuck into the 2nd and 3rd year offerings) and lack of other options at the time kept me in, and now it feels like a massive waste of time apart from the stupid reality that simply having a degree increases general employability (apparentyly).
How common are these sort of feelings of regret about one's degree? I'm sure I'm not alone but maybe more people just drop out early rather than FOMOing themselves into staying?
Feel free to delete if these kind of posts/rants aren't welcome :)

Hiii! I'd like to start off by saying that it's tragic that there are others that share my suffering of having unwanted dogs pushed on them but I'm glad I'm not alone in that. None of you deserve it and I really hope that your situations get better someday because living with shitty dogs you never wanted fucking sucks! I myself am currently coping with a situation surrounding my dad and two dogs that belong to our neighbours. Allegedly at least. In reality? Hmm... bit more complex than that - I don't know if I'm just being overdramatic, it is kind of jumbled and really long, but I'm just so tired of dealing with this and I want someone to hear it
For some context behind the living situation, I am unfortunately at a few months into 27 still living with my parents who rent a townhouse 🙁 It's my own fault really and I have a feeling the situation I'm in now may be fate's rendering of judgement on me for growing up into a failure. It's a really long story but the summary is that I was in a deep depression spiral for a bunch of reasons leading me to make sooo many poor financial and educational decisions starting around late elementary school to last year. About 2 years ago I finally started taking steps towards fixing my problems which included some soul searching within, but I think I've got another year or two yet before I'd consider myself comfortable enough financially to finally get out of here and away from this demented doggy day care more or less for good. For what it might be worth, while I don't pay rent I do help out with chores and pay for various things in general - I've fronted pet supplies and vet bills, gas, groceries, purchased furniture, kitchen tools, paid my mom's car insurance when she's been late on it because of my dad's drinking, paid for maintenance stuff such as some supplies to fix holes or damage that my dad puts in walls and doors, among other things like you know, random stuff that needs fixing haha. I want to think I'm not a *complete* parasite, but I totally understand if you still see me as one. Really, I get it. I promise you I'm trying and I will be useful one day. Until then though, 😔
My parents currently own 3 dogs and 2 cats so it's already pretty crowded here and to top it off I have a mild allergy to pet hair so the only time I ever have a clear nose is when I'm out of the house: a 10yr old schipperke named Kallie, a 4yr old golden retriever named Sundance, and some kind of mix that reminds me of a GSD mixed with a pitbull I guess that's like idk 2-3yrs old - her name is Suzuki and she's a rescue that my parents brought back after selling something to a Kijiji buyer. Dunno her breed exactly though. The cats are a black cat named Ninja that we've had since 2014 and a tabby stray named Loki that followed us home from a dumpster a few years ago so we decided to keep her. I love them both so much and Loki is especially dear to me and is actually closer to being my cat than my parents' cat - I am 100% taking her when I leave. They are relevant to this further down trust me.
For the record I don't have issues with Kallie and Sundance and actually do love them a lot despite the fact that I'm not actually the biggest fan of dogs - they're an exception, and I warmed up to Suzuki about a year ago though she has an issue which is relevant for the problem animals.
Several other dogs that weren't ours have been through this house in the past as my dad is well, soft-hearted and naive when it comes to specifically animals. Some of them have been problems. Some of them represent Problems. All of the extra dogs have been unilaterally his decision and any voice of disapproval ignites a conflict. Right now there are 2 other dogs on top of the family 3 and these two are the Big Problems™️ rn: the first one is a shitzuo (emphasis on the SHIT) named Keno or Kino or who fucking cares I'll just call him Keno. The other one is a mix of something that looks a little like Suzuki, but is white and might have a little chihuahua in him. His name is Benji. I'll start with Benji since I actually have sympathy for his owner and as much as I find him annoying he has some potential to be a decent dog one day if given the proper support, but that's not my problem as it's not my dog.
Benji is a younger doggo, about a year old. His owner is a single mom currently going through a bad divorce from what I hear which honestly is really unfortunate and I do hope her situation improves someday. He's kinda friendly most of the time, but his owner has still not gotten him fixed, which is an issue particularly because of how much time he spends in the same house as Suzuki, who my mom has not gotten fixed either despite my offers to pay for it and attempts to schedule it for her. I regularly stop Benji's attempts to mount her, but I know I won't be able to stop it forever and I'm terrified of the outcome. Every time I bring it up to my parents, I am either blown off with a half-thought response or (in the case of my dad) straight up yelled at and threatened as this dog is apparently just "playing" or "fighting for dominance." 🫠 I just don't want to have to exist next to a bunch of puppies that my parents are completely incapable of taking care of but there's nothing I can do about it. God, imagining the noise level and smell of the house makes me shiver. Aaaaaa. Benji is also an extremely pushy and jealous dog as he's still very young and isn't being trained adequately by either his owner or my dad - I cannot pet the family dogs without this little annoyance trying to worm his way in and interrupt. One positive I can think of is that he at least defers to me and folds over in submission the moment I express any kind of disapproval. Well, that and he isn't Keno.
Keno is.... a fucking NIGHTMARE that is driving me to insanity and I am devoting basically the rest of this rant to this untrained monstrosity and its neglectfully absent handlers. I have never, in my entire life, EVER, hated a dog more than this shaggy, aggressive, shrieking rat. It all started about six months ago when some neighbours who I've never met in my life got this stupid idiot dumbshit animal as a rescue. My mom let it come over once and I had one of those really bad gut feelings. My dad then suggested to them that he could keep an eye on it, as both of the owners work all day and don't get home until later while my dad is at home usually as he's on disability. From then on this curly-haired terror has been at our house almost 7 days a week, for at LEAST 12 hours a day. Let's see if I can describe just much I hate this animal without hitting a character limit.
The dog wasn't (and still isn't) yard trained or outside-trained in general. This dog is like 2 years old or something and every time I've brought it up my dad freaks out and says "that's not going to happen, that's just how he is! Get used to it!" My dad's solution is to cover our ENTIRE front entrance into the building hallway in piss pads. Yea, training pads. These are filled up multiple times a day - sometimes multiple times an HOUR ... you can imagine the amount of garbage this creates which my dad then complains about having to deal with (he's the ONLY reason this dog still comes here) - and yes, he throws the used piss pads in the KITCHEN TRASH, YOU KNOW, THE ONES WITH FECES AND URINE ON THEM 🙃The dog regularly misses too and wastes all over the floor and wall! I rented a carpet cleaner for when I moved rooms and my mom decided to use it after to clean up the entrance way, hahaha, it was pissed up less than 2 hours later! The doors and walls around there are starting to be stained by dog piss and it gets worse when the pads get moved around for whatever reason. If you were to look closely, you may see tiny streaks from where the dog rushed to its mandatory shitting sessions. We used to have a bench beside the door for putting on shoes and stuff, and the closet was actually used for coats, hats, and things. Now the whole area has been devoted to this walking feces factory and on top of that the perpetually soiled pads sit in front of our downstairs bathroom as well. Suffice to say that I have not used that washroom in nearly six months and only make use of the upstairs one now. Petty? Maybe. Legend has it that some of my makeup is still in there.
As mentioned earlier, from what I've been told this dog is a rescue. It has behaviour problems. Crazy, I know. You'd be shocked to know that its owners are not experienced with handling rescues. It barks at many, oh many things. There is not a single multicellular organism in this city that this thing has not barked at. When it gets let outside, the very first thing it does is run to the end of the yard and shriek at the sky! And this thing is one of those dogs that has the projection of a large dog, but the bark of a small one. Yea, it's actually piercing, and if I'm in the same room as it my ears physically hurt when it barks and leaves my ears ringing. Definitely an effective deterrent, as I don't really leave my room anymore while it's here, so I guess I basically don't leave my room anymore except to go to work or cook... Of course this dog does more than bark though! It's actually fairly aggressive, too, because of course it is. You cannot discipline this dog, both because of the coddling my father does for it and the dog's own reaction to various techniques. Very growly and bares its teeth. I went to close the living room curtain once and the dog snapped at my hand, biting me. It has bitten me again one other time when I shooed it out of my new room that I was cleaning out (note: my dad yelled at me later because it's "Keno's relaxing spot" and I'm cruel to take that away from it, don't worry it hasn't been back in since) I'm not allowed to teach this dog in any way, as any genuine attempt from me (mainly out of desperation to make what time I have left in this house livable I don't actually want to teach this mutt, I want it gone) is swiftly shut down by my dad who says once again that the dog will never learn and that's just how it is. GREAT. GET RID OF THE FUCKING THING THEN IF ITS UNFIXABLE. Oh, it's your "duty" to ensure the dog doesn't get put down apparently, because that's what will 100% happen if the dog gets given up according to him. He's not a "killer" 🙄 mf hearing that is unbelievably infuriating this dog will have no fucking chance in the future if it doesn't get given up at least now it could potentially be taken care of by someone halfway decent at it. I've told him multiple times that him ENABLING these dipshit owners is just causing more problems for this awful animal further down the road. I hate the shit out of this thing and I'm still trying to think of its well-being. UGH.
God tho, words cannot describe how much of a trigger this dog's bark is. I hate it. I cannot stand it. It's an audible plague. It worms through earplugs, headphones, walls. I cannot get it out of my fucking mind. Even on the few days this dog isn't here, I can still hear it shrieking away a few doors down. It's barking as I type this part someone save me this dog allegedly was supposed to go home an hour ago. The latest this thing has stayed was until 11:30 PM. What the fuck.
Apparently the dog is fixed. However for some reason it repeatedly tries to mount Suzuki. It does not do that with the other dogs who are all fixed. Huh. Oh, it also likes to rub up against the only part of our couch with an arm rest and has claimed it as its territory - actually briefly fought with Benji over it two weeks ago. Mom said it was a serious incident but nothing came of it, as usual haha. Whatever, point is this dog is a problem in yet another way. I love being told off about not wanting this dog to rub its fucking ass up against my thigh while I'm trying to just sit on the couch for whatever reason at the time.
What makes my blood boil the most about the behaviour though is how this dog treats our cats and even the other neighbour's dog. It's a fucking menace, an actual danger. It chases and harasses our cats in some attempt to police them or something. If Loki jumps onto a high point that she regularly lounges at, he dashes at her and barks at her. If Ninja meows at the door to be put on a leash in the yard, he barks and chases him. This dog has lunged at our cats more than once. I'm scared that something is going to happen to them because those things happen way faster than one can stop them. I don't know if I could handle seeing that image in reality. I really don't think I could. I hope I don't have to and even writing about the possibility gives me anxiety and the fact that my dad jokes about how Keno "definitely came from a family where he was supposed to keep an eye on a cat" just brings me to my fucking limit as it is. I nearly had that sort of scare a couple months ago when Benji and Keno were scrapping in my dad's room. I saw that they were getting too aggressive, but my dad has made it umm, very clear that I am not allowed to police them on it. So yea, it happened super quick - Keno clamped down on Benji's throat and hurt him. While the little guy lived, he now has a semi-persistent cough and at the time I genuinely thought the dog was gonna cross the forever bridge as he was struggling to breathe for like 10min. What changed from this incident? Well, nothing! My dad blamed Benji. I feel really bad about the incident as there was a brief window where I could have stopped it, but my fear of causing an argument with my dad led to an animal getting hurt, even if it's one I'm not a huge fan of.
Where are the owners? Haha. At work apparently. As mentioned, the dog is here nearly 7 days a week, at least 12 hours a day, usually longer than that (7am to 7pm, but this dog has fucking arrived at like 6:10am before.) Weekends are supposed to be a reprieve from this demon, but every couple weekends it'll come over on those days too and sometimes for completely fucking random reasons! Aren't owners usually comfy leaving their dog at their house for two hours? Why the fuck are these people unable to do that? Why do my parents get no notice apparently? Why do my parents take this shit? I am not allowed to voice disapproval towards this dog or the situation of any kind - my dad immediately launches into a tirade more colourful than a pastel palette if I even slightly remind him that I hate this fucking thing. My mom shuts me down - "That's enough.", "Don't", "I don't want your dad to get angry" the last time this happened my dad insisted that either I "love all of them or abuse all of them, no pick and choosing" he then drank himself silly and forgot about it. Why did that happen? I came in the door and pet our dogs plus Benji because he was actually behaving pretty well for once!
Yea the owners are so shitty. Benji's owner has told my mom (who then relayed it to me) about how they find it funny and cute that their awful dog pisses all over our walls and barks teehee 😊 at least Benji's owner tries and walks our schipperke at night sometimes. Keno's diabolical yet incompetent owners very clearly know they have a golden goose in the form of my father who is only spineless when it comes to dogs. He has sadly attached himself to this stupid mutt, and I'm worried that I'm going to have to deal with it for as long as I associate with my parents, at least until it passes. In fact, my dad has straight up said that he considers this dog his own, and part of the family. Many times he has mentioned that poor Keno's "REAL FAMILY" is here in our house. Keno's owners apparently pay my dad $100 a month sometimes for the privilege of letting it ruin this house for a minimum of 60 hours a week. Damn they got a good deal. The owners have other issues too, but basically I just can't believe that this is the hill my dad (and by extension my mom as she's been stockholm'd by my dad) is willing to die on. I can't believe this fucking dog has so much sway in things here. I can't believe my dad constantly praises and gives it love while in the same breath detailling very specifically how much joy I suck away from his life and how much of a regret of his I am. How do I stop being worth less to him than this dog? Before this thing, it was a neighbour's chihuahua named Oreo that also pissed all over the place and yapped. Despite the fact that I'd sometimes exit the shower and have to step over dog shit, I'd much rather have that yappy dog back then keep dealing with this hellspawn. At least back then my father pretended to care about me. I wish this thing would just fucking leave. I wish my mom would actually put her foot down like she says she is. I'm so tired of this. I'm tired of being told about how I'm supposed to just LIKE this shitty dog and how my open dislike of it is animal abuse or some shit that's like actually untrue (what the fuck.) I do my best to just ignore it as much as I can but this dog has driven me to crying fits more than once because it Just. Doesn't. Stop. The reminders are everywhere. It's sunken its teeth into every fucking aspect of life here and I am so miserable. If I could afford it I would move out yesterday. I want out so badly but can only bide my time while bitching like some drama queen because I was an idiot
Wow, this has ballooned way beyond how long I thought it'd be. Oops. Hey, even if you don't read it, it felt pretty good to type.
tldr: THESE 2 DOGS ARE SHIT BUT ONE IS SHITTIER AND THE WORST

Hello! I am 20 years old and a female. I’m not very big on socializing and tend to be pretty introverted, not because I hate people but because it usually is exhausting for me. I try to look out for people and don’t like to tell anyone about my problems or feelings; I am also someone who cares a lot about people but doesn’t normally voice it, but would rather show it through gifts or acts of service. I like to pay attention to the details of things and people, and I often have a weird feeling that I can “predict” people or know how they will be/are… and so far, I’ve usually been right. I have a strong moral code and will always advocate for the underdog. I think deeply about things and tend to have a lot of empathy. I experience things and feel that I also think of things differently than most people. I have a hard time explaining my thoughts, but I’ll do my best!
I don’t have any kind of mental diagnosis that could affect my mental stability.
My upbringing was actually very positive. My family has been big on religion since I was born, but it’s something that I take comfort in and agree with. It brings purpose to my life and helps me to be the person I am. I have two parents who love me and take care of me, and younger siblings that I love dearly. I have cousins who double as my friends, aunts and uncles who have me over all the time, and grandparents that I love so, so much. Having many younger siblings did tend to get lonely at times, especially when they were younger, but it taught me independence and I do my best to take care of them. I count myself as extremely fortunate to have such wonderful people in my life.
As a job, I currently work as a barista. To be honest, I don’t really like it very much. My coworkers are very nice and I get along well with them, and I also like a lot of our regular customers, but my manager makes it a very toxic and negative environment that simply goes against my moral code. I also dislike the fact that most people that I see, I only see them in passing. I’d rather have few deep, meaningful connections that many shallow connections, if that makes any sense? I do enjoy the idea of getting to make people’s days, and I like to encourage the bashful people and love seeing sweet children, too! Both customers and coworkers tend to tell me personal stories, and I really enjoy getting to know them truly and seeing what makes them the way they are. I also tend to think sometimes that I feel a higher calling. I want to be somewhere truly helping people. I feel that I need to make a difference and positively influence people.
Spending an entire weekend by myself would be nice. I don’t NEED human contact, and can generally entertain myself without becoming bored. I do, however, find it a little depressing when it’s TOO quiet, especially since I grew up with my environment being everything but quiet. Normally, I like being near people, especially if I’m not even talking to them. Just sharing the space with someone is comforting enough for me! Overall, though, I do need to be alone frequently and tend to run away from life sometimes throughout the day. I would probably find a weekend alone to be really refreshing, so I could connect with myself and not other people.
I prefer activities where you work alone. I like to bake a lot, especially because it makes me happy when people enjoy the things I’ve made! I greatly enjoy sharing my food. I also like to read and can also write, as they both provide me with the an escape from reality at times. My favorite parts about both is understanding and connecting with the characters in the stories. If I have a favorite character, I like to think about what they think about and how they interact with the world. I feel like it’s something most people would find mundane, but I could do it all day! I enjoy being outdoors and connecting with nature, but I don’t particularly enjoy sports.
I tend to be very curious about many things. I like to know how people work. Not normally objects, but people. I find psychology to be extremely interesting, and could spend hours watching true crime investigations. If I see a stray cat, I wonder how it feels and what it has experienced. When I see a person who is upset, I wonder what happened to cause it and how I can help. I can normally tell quickly when something is wrong, and I am usually good at figuring out what I can do to help and am able to read people to understand the best ways to comfort them. It makes sense thinking that in my head, but writing it down sure makes it seem confusing!
Taking a leadership position is not my preferred route. If it falls down to me, I certainly would try hard to make sure the people working under me are happy. I’d rather make the people around my happy than the company itself. I’d like to be an advocate for their rights and happiness if anything was unfair, and I would like for us to be a “team” rather than simply a workplace. I’d like everyone to have fun at work and feel like friends and family. I know the world doesn’t work that way, but I can certainly dream, right?
In terms of coordination, I feel that I’m in the middle. I’d rather play video games than any kind of sport. I don’t have the best balance or coordination, and I don’t typically do things that involve having a good sense of either.
I feel that I am typically artistic, and have a great appreciation for art. I’m not great at drawing, but I like to write a lot. I also think it feels nice to express yourself through music. I’ve done pottery and would like to start learning to crochet. I enjoy looking at certain arts, such as music and books. My favorite art in terms of drawing is abstract art. I love thinking of the endless possibilities of what it could mean, and also wonder how the artist felt when drawing the piece.
The past doesn’t typically have meaning to me. I can be sentimental about certain things at times, but I typically focus my energy mostly on the future. I do things in my present life to prepare for the future, and I have a positive outlook on the future. I don’t like to think of the things that I find unpleasant now, because I believe in a good, happy future where the things that currently bother me will no longer be able to affect me.
I typically will jump at the opportunity to help someone, especially if they are in my family. I do my best to make people’s days, and I try to be of service as best as I can. I used to be unable to say “no”, but I have since learned to enforce boundaries and would never do something that goes against my moral code. If I have a lot on my plate and someone asks me to do something for them, I will typically tell them that I will help them when I can or if I have the time.
Logical consistency is something that I find important, but I wouldn’t mind making exceptions for certain things. I take comfort in knowing that certain outcomes will always remain the same, as I get nervous sometimes when things are unknown. Since I normally can predict what will happen with certain people or events based on prior experience, I find it both interesting and disturbing when the outcome is different.
Efficiency and productivity are not my top priorities, but I do find them important. I like to be efficient in the things I do, but I will not go out of my way to find the “best” way to do something. I like to stay a little productive so that I don’t feel as if I haven’t done anything, but I am perfectly fine with sitting around doing nothing, too. It’s peaceful. I don’t like being in a rush.
Controlling others is something I never do on purpose, but I will admit I can manipulate sometimes. I would never negatively impact someone on purpose, but I am able to manipulate a situation if I find something to be unfair. I’m especially able to do this with the way my mind sees connections between people and things, as well as the way I see into other people’s minds and understand their feelings and actions. It sounds scary but I promise, I mean no harm! :)
Hobbies I enjoy include baking, playing video games, watching videos, writing/reading, and just being around people! I like to share the things I bake, and video games are fun because I can enjoy them alone or with my family. Playing games and watching videos, whether alone or with others, is fun and stimulating for my brain in all the right ways! I much prefer to write over speak, as I feel I can convey things better and express myself through writing. Reading allows me to look into the minds of other people and I think it’s just so fun.
Learning environments are something I normally can adapt to. Whether a teacher is strict or laid back, I am normally able to perform the same way. I can understand each side and typically earn the favor of teachers no matter their teaching styles. I tend to thrive better in environments where things are on a straight path, but I do like to express myself through various pieces of writing when possible.
When I have a project, I would much prefer to start it quickly and finish it as soon as possible. I don’t typically “wing” anything, although I won’t be torn up if something doesn’t go exactly according to plan. I’d rather break things up into manageable tasks and prefer to work alone. I strategize pretty well, but for the most part, I use the strategy as a guideline and like to be creative here and there.
My aspirations are to connect with and help people. I feel a calling to do something and be somewhere that I can help people and understand them. I want to make a difference. I want to be a part of people’s passions and learn their dreams. I want to know the mundane things about them. I want to learn, but I mainly want to help.
I fear being left and not needed. I also fear being taken advantage of and manipulated. I feel that I need to work hard in order to compensate for these things. I also greatly fear having no one to turn to. Being alone is nice, but being lonely is my worst nightmare.
The highs in my life are when I can be around people who don’t drain me. That good feeling after someone tells you you’ve made their day. That feeling you get after you and your family beat the level of the game you’ve been working hard at. The feeling after you look around at your clean room. The feeling after you finally quit that toxic job, or the feeling after someone eats the food you’ve made them. For me, all of those things paired with thinking about and understanding someone’s thoughts and intentions make me happy. They stimulate my brain, and give me that “AHA!” moment.
Lows in my life typically include feeling helpless. I hate when you don’t know how to assist someone, or when all you can do is sit with them. I also hate when people are cruel for no reason. I advocate for justice according to my moral code and I stand up for people as well as what I feel is right. I hate when I think I could have done something better. When I’m upset, I become pessimistic and tend to isolate myself. I hate being stuck with individuals who are unfeeling, uncaring, or narcissistic.
I tend to daydream more than I partake in reality. I have a hard time focusing on what is in front of me, and I like to think more on the hypotheticals. I daydream and think in order to gain a deeper understanding of the world around me, but it causes me to miss some of the simple things right in front of me.
Being alone in a blank, empty room would cause me to think about a lot of things. I would probably think of how to improve myself. I might think of birthday gifts for people, or the next thing I want to cook. I could think of nostalgic things, or the problems I am currently facing in my life. I think I would mostly think on self improvement and the interactions I’ve seen between people.
Making decisions is sometimes hard for me. I normally will go with what my gut tells me, unless there is an obvious logical choice. I tend to be indecisive sometimes, and like to make decisions quickly so I don’t have to think about them anymore. I don’t normally second guess decisions I’ve made.
Emotions are a big part of my life. I like to understand people’s thoughts and feelings, sometimes to the point where I will neglect my own. My own emotions can take me time to understand, but I can read most other people easily. I base my responses to things on how others are feeling.
Agreeing with others just to keep a conversation going is something that I find untruthful. If something goes against my personal moral code, I will either leave or change the subject. I will always kindly stand up for what I believe to be right. I tend to choose my battles, but I will never agree with something that I don’t believe in my heart.
Rules, to me, are made to be followed. Sometimes, I don’t mind bending them a little bit, but I do feel that most people should follow rules the majority of the time. I feel that rules keep things in order and are an important structure in certain places and environments.

I had a dream probably 12 years ago that I’ve never forgotten, during one of the darkest times in my life when I was scared I’d fail in life
The dream began in a volcanic Ashland where I was traveling with a ragtag band of refugees trying to escape some horrible volcanic event or maybe even super volcanic event, so we were all journeying through this grey valley flanked by ashen mountains with a few distant volcanoes, I was the leader of this group and they were depending on me to hopefully guide them to survival.
We came to a huge obsidian temple structure and it was built onto the valley wall so we had to climb it to ascend out of the valley, so we entered. But the building had an ominous energy like something dark was sleeping inside of it.
Part of the way up, a young boy in my group was running ahead even though I told him to wait and tried to run after him, but as happens in dreams my legs were like lead and I couldn’t keep up. I had this growing sense of dread.
Then the boy slipped off the edge over an overhang and as I looked down after him he plunged into a lava pool, burning to death. My sense of dread didn’t go away it only increased. Somehow I knew (maybe because it was a dream made by my own mind) that that wasn’t the only horror that awaited us in here, this place wanted all of us not just the boy.
That dread manifested as the boy came clawing his way out from the lava pit and let out a horrifying cry like a nazgul or a ghoulish undead, with his flesh bubbling and dripping off of his bones in places he began sprinting with inhuman speed back towards the entrance of the obsidian temple he had fallen from, right back into the entrance.
My band of refugees began panicking, torn between the anguish of watching the boy die and the horror dawning on them of what he had become- a monster- and why he would come sprinting back into the temple some floors below us.
We all heard the inhuman commotion as his undead body slammed into corners, so great was his speed, and we all realized rather abruptly that he was closing in on our group.
I urged the group to begin climbing the stairwells that wrapped around the precipices of this obsidian temple, up towards the valley wall. We had only one possible escape: somehow reaching the top and whatever salvation waited for us up there from the desolate volcanic wasteland and the undead monster that had once been a little boy. So we all begun to sprint, but we were slow.
some of the refugees had bags, some were elderly men and women, it began to dawn on me that we had no hope to escape as i heard the monster closing in from below. I turned to confront him, readying to fight with no weapons.
When he emerged he looked at me with his ghastly skull shining through his melted off face and he spoke and said "You did this to me so I will punish you by making you live while your people die." And he ran past me with superhuman speed and tore into my group, beginning to butcher these weak powerless refugees even as I tried to fight him, plead with him, even as I tried to urge them to keep running, he eventually killed every last one of them with his long ghoul clawed skeletal hands.
"Im sorry." i said to him. "Im sorry i let you become a monster." and he just smiled back at me and stepped off the ledge, plunging again into the lava, this time to rest eternal, but the carnage of my mangled people now lay all around me, and still the black obsidian stairway beckoned, leading up into the tallest passes of the ashen mountains where smoke and fog obscured the path, I had nobody left and nowhere to go but up.
So i went up. Up, up, up through winding valley corridors of sheer black jagged rockfaces, ascending thousands of steps until the atmosphere seemed thin and the night stars shone from above, the distant red glow of the lava flows fading to a dull reminder of the carnage i was leaving behind me.
eventually the climb slowed but the path continued and the stairs began to turn downwards, the rock walls opened up into a dusty grey plain of old ash that had blown here from distant eruptions in the ashlands below, but it was cold up here and dark, and the fog parted and i saw in the distance a structure, not ominous and unnatural like the obsidian temple but a human structure, a distant farmhouse, but I had a feeling when i looked down the winding stairs at this house like i was looking into the blackness of a night that has a rapidly approaching tornado, totally invisible, the sight of this farmhouse gave me a sense of existential dread greater than even the obsidian temple had inspired. But i knew i had to keep going forward anyways. So, with despair in every step, i put one foot infront of the next and kept walking.
As i approached the house I realized its scale, it was not some small farmhouse, more of a manse, and the stairs on this path led straight to its roof where the stairs that had once led down from its top were gone. There was only a gaping black hole in the roof, my only way forward was into this abandoned structure, so with a heart full of fear i lowered myself down into pitch blackness.
I found myself in an ash flooded attic full of furniture like old spinning wheels and some misshapen objects with soot stained sheets over them, the room was so very cluttered with dillapidated old stuff that i could hardly navigate it. I kept bumping stuff then I froze, because on thr far side of the room i saw a sillouhette standing motionless. A feminine sillouhette that seemed like it moved slightly as I brushed against an old desk, causing a noise.
As she reacted, she turned towards me and I saw her face, and her mouth hung open, her jaw split in two, one half dangling and the other holding a malicious grimace.
She moved like a squid striking out from inky blackness at its prey, lifting up off her feet and drifting rapidly to me, her mangled jaw soon centering around my field of view as her face filled my vision and she grabbed the sides of my head, talking to me
"You have to pay for what he did to us, you have to see it all"
And she entered me, i just remember at this point in my dream my vision was full of motion, like she had possessed me and was flying me through the pages of her own history book, in a misty ashen blur of colors and shapes i found myself chopping wood in a dark forest with green leaves around, when a rage filled every fiber of my being and i turned towards a tent, gripping my axe as i swung it through the fabric, turning it on my first wife (in my dream i understood this to be the vision of the woman's husband when he murdered her with his axe) and splitting her jaw and head open rather than any log
I was crying abd begging to be left alone and allowed to leave when we swirled back into the attic, and the ghost was standing right there with inhuman stillness, i couldnt look away from her mangled face as she said "now you know what he did to me…" and she slowly disappeared into a small mist
I was deeply disturbed and crying and disoriented as i looked around the attic and saw a small wooden panel with some grey filtered light showing through it and i went that way, but as i did another ghost of a different women, her neck angled violently screamed at me and grabbed me and possessed me, now I was her husband, the same man with his second wife wringing her neck as she turbed blue
In this manner a series of murdered women ghosts possessed me, forcing me to witness their deaths from the poijt of view of their killer, all killed by the same horrible man in different violent ways, in total 7 stories of 7 murders of 7 dead wives, and each one whisming me to another part of this forsaken farmhouse where they had lurked waiting for whichever man was unlucky enough to enter this cursed homestead
My experience dreaming this was mostly an unsettling amount of vertigo during the dream and images of violence and these ghastly faces of ghosts filling my vision before flying me to another room where another ghost would stand motionless waiting to possess me, the entire time i felt like i was crying and falling from a very extreme height
Eventually though the last ghost released me from her possession and i stood in the kitchen room where she stood with me, her face blue from drowning in a bath tub, and she smiled at mr and spoke more gently than thr others had, she reached to take my hand but when i flinched and screamed she dropped her arm back down to her side and just smiled sadly at me
"Thank you"
And she and all other ghosts were gone and it was just me alone in this forsaken manse's kitchen, and i heard a sound i never expected, trickling water. So i walked towards it and found a back door on the ground level which opened easily, and i stepped outside and saw some white, ash-filtered sunlight and a sight that took my breath away, about 300 yards away was a running river with lush green trees and plants and a thundering waterfall, and i knew that my trials had passed as i walked out towards the end of the ashlands with my boots squishing in fertile muddy soil, and i woke up completely drenched in a puddle of my own sweat

I’m using a throwaway because I want to keep my anonymity as much as I can. I(20)F have been in a relationship with my bf(21)M for around a year and a half. He’s been diagnosed with ASD, while I’m NT(i’m pretty sure). We met my soph year in college. When we first started dating it was really great, we met up consistently, had a lot going on, and got along really well. I really enjoyed him talking about his hobbies and interests a lot. After a few months, i noticed he started getting kind of distant. i brought it up and he just said he’s a bit avoidant, which im mostly ok with. He also mentioned he likes his alone time(which i completely get and is ay-ok with!) Recently(as in the most recent months) he hangs out with his friends like 4-5/7 days a week or something and barely makes any time for me. He told me he only likes to hang out with people a small handful of days during the week but his actions speak otherwise. He doesn’t update me on anything really, does his own thing and barely sees me anymore. When we do see each other, I sometimes feel he thinks it’s an obligation for him(gets bored or just feels like he doesn’t want to be there) rather then actually wanting to spend time with me. I’m usually initiating dates and such and I honestly just feel some kind of distance emotionally. I love him to death but i really don’t know if he feels the same anymore. If he’s unhappy with me I will just end it if it will make him happier. He tells me he loves me but his actions just don’t line up. Was I just a short spur of interest? I also do not mind compromising to where both of us are happy but I’ve brought up the issues before and at first he said he’d try to prioritize me more but now it’s just excuses about how I’m too busy doing xyz(which i’m not, he never even asks). It’s sometimes hard to really communicate and I guess it’s to be expected. I talked to a few of my friends who’s on the spectrum and they said it might be the ‘tism thing but they’re not certain. i kinda just want to see what other’s thoughts and opinions are. sorry for the stupid rant haha.

Here is a TRUE Haunted House Story that a gentleman by the name of “Kenneth” emailed to me last week that I am currently working on to narrate. This is one creepy story. 😬 I hope you enjoy. 🫶
Story by - “Kenneth”
I’ve been living in a house that is very haunted for the better part of 53 years. I guess you can say that, I grew up here. And lived here my entire life.
And I’ve made a happy home for my wife and daughter here as well. At least we try to make this a happy home. We’ve experienced things that are so bizarre you’d almost think that we were crazy for even talking about them.
Nevermind the things I’ve heard and seen in this house while growing up.
While I would love to talk about everything that has happened here, I would like to tell you about how it all started for me when I was seven years old. It's actually the very first incident that I encountered while living here.
The house was built in 1875. It’s been remodeled throughout the years to keep up with modern times, but it still rests on the very foundation it was built on.
This house… as I’m writing this, I can hear footsteps creaking above me on the second floor. This is an all day thing. But we’ve learned to live with it. While growing up here, and being the only child, my parents already knew about the house being haunted. But they tried sheltering me from it. Meaning, if I heard something strange, my father or mother would say something to the likes of…
“Oh honey, those damn pipes again. We need to call the plumber.”
Or if there were footsteps creaking on the floor boards they would blame the flooring for being very old. I would hear scratching all throughout the walls and ceilings. All sorts of strange and bizarre sounds.
But this incident, this day, changed everything. And I remember this day, or rather night, as if it happened yesterday.
It was around 11:00 at night. It was a school night. And I was asleep. But something woke me up. I heard a voice whisper in my right right ear…
“We can’t let them get away.”
My eyes slowly opened up and I laid there for a moment. I called out for both my mother and father and looked over at my bedroom door but it was shut. I flipped over to my side and fell back asleep.
I heard this voice loud and clear. I know I did. But I think my brain was telling me to ignore it. Well, that was just the beginning of it. Because a few moments later it decided to really stir things up with me…
“Boy… HELP THEM THEY’RE BURNING ALIVE!”
I jumped out of bed so rapidly and even peed myself as I ran to my parents bedroom. My parents both looked at each other and then looked at me like they knew something but didn’t want to tell me. They gave me the old mumbo jumbo and told me that I was having a bad dream. My mother got out of bed. Got me fresh pajamas and socks while I cleaned myself up.
Peeing yourself at seven years old isn’t fun. Especially when it’s a raspy old scary voice shouting that someone’s burning alive in your bedroom while you’re sleeping.
My mother asked if I wanted to sleep with her and my father in their bed after that. You bet your ass I did. I hopped in that bed quicker than a fox chasing a rabbit. I was a small boy for seven. And both of my parents were average sized too, so, I fit right in there.
Alright… Here is where it gets very, very scary. If this doesn’t scare the socks off of you I don’t know what will. And before I continue, the voice that I heard? We think it’s the original owner of the house. Without giving away too much information about my home, the very first owner of this home…
He was an evil man…
We’ve heard stories about him torturing animals, killing them, and then taxiderming them, scattering them all throughout the house like his own little museum of horror.
Throughout the years I would experience more voices, more scratching on the walls and ceilings. Eventually my parents wound up telling me that the house was haunted by a creepy man with an evil past. And we lived with it. We were never physically harmed by it. It was more of a nuisance than anything.
That all changed on the night I brought my wife home to begin a life here with me.
We’re high school sweethearts. So, she knows about this place. She stayed here overnight plenty of times before we got married. But on the night she moved in, it wasn’t happy at all.
I’ll never forget the hour and minute. It was 2:27 in the morning. We were both asleep. My wife woke up first because she felt something tugging on her arm. She then woke me up and told me what she felt. This was the first time in all the years anyone has ever been physically touched by this spirit. This had never happened before so it was quite a shock to me.
And after being awake for about a few minutes or so, our bedroom door slammed shut! Our blanket was pulled away from us and thrown across the room. And we heard heavy footsteps as if someone was walking across the roof!
It was as if the house was coming to life.
In all my years of living here, I have never seen this much activity. Yet alone in one single night.
After the blanket got pulled away from us and thrown across the room things finally seemed to calm down. And the entire house was ominously quiet.
Too quiet…
But then a dark black shadow decides to grace us with its presence by moving along the walls in the bedroom and fading into nothingness. My wife and I did not move from the bed during all of this. We were terror-stricken. And then a foul odor begins to come from underneath the bed followed by a sonorous growl that vibrated underneath us.
By this point it felt like something grave was about to happen and I had to do something. Or at least I had to try. I grabbed a hold of my wife’s hand and told her to be brave and to not fear this thing. Because that's what it wants. It wants to scare us out of our home and we can’t allow that to happen. But we mustard up the courage to face this evil spirit and began reciting the Lord’s Prayer.
The bedroom door slammed again and again, four times consecutively. With steady growls underneath the bed, but we stood our ground. Praying to the almighty to help and asking him to show this spirit to the light.
A raspy old voice then shouts from underneath the bed.
“Get out!… Leave my house!”
And I said…
“No! If you're stuck here like you’ve been all these years, then you’re going to have to learn to live with us. In peace or war. Because this is my house now. Not yours. You're dead! Leave already! Go! Go with God. And Go into the light.”
After 10 minutes of praying and arguing with this thing. It all just seemed to come to a pass. I wiped the tears of fear from my wife’s eyes and embraced her painful shivers.
I, too, was frozen over by the horror that leveled us during that night.
And nothing of that magnitude ever occurred again. And our home stood silent for a while. For a year to be exact. Which was very peaceful. The voices and scratching on the walls and ceilings, footsteps and disembodied voices eventually returned. But it doesn’t bother us at all. We pay it no mind.
Doesn’t bother my daughter. Not my wife nor I. We’ve just learned to live with it.
I know that must sound strange. But this is my home. Our home. And we intend to keep it that way.
Thank you, Kenneth Sr.
Disclaimer: This story is not to be used in any other way other than reading, sharing your thoughts on it, and enjoying the creepy thought of living with a Poltergeist/Ghost in your home. 👻
The content producer has this story copyrighted and protected by the Library of Congress/Copyright Office.
💀

Someone just give me a hug plz Ps this has no order it just thoughts
I feel like everything is in shambles. I’m 19M. It’s college summer break. I’m broke. Never had a girl. Fat. Ugly. In credit card debt and to my father. Everywhere I apply to says no. Been made fun of because I’m broke or fat. Shit doesn’t seem to align in life. I feel like I’m being left behind. And my only response to that is to catch up even if it means sacrificing myself. I can’t really talk to my parents about this. I’m not raised to express feelings. I can tell the boys I’m depressed but it’s either as a joke or like just one rough day. And I’ve been like this since middle school. I have highs but overall I’m really in a constant low. At this point I wish I was high or drunk to make it fade away. My parents are going on vacation soon and all I can think of is to get drunk to get these feelings out my mind. I know I can’t get carried through life but some help. Some mercy. Don’t leave me alone. If this is growing up please promise me getting old gets better. I feel like everyone is having a better life while I just sit and watch. Now I don’t want to rant but this is my only way to let this out. Idk maybe I’m too hard on myself. But if I don’t do it myself, I have people pressuring me. Idk if I think too much in a cause and effect mindset but I feel like I’m losing out on opportunities (though I can’t describe much of them) that others are having. I don’t feel like women want me. There’s always someone better than me. I lost my virginity to someone who I regret. I lead a lie on my friends cuz I’m ashamed of when that happened. I can keep things clear with women. Keep in mind that my interactions with women only get to “good friends” level. I find it hard that people smarter than me are smarter because I feel like I just don’t want it bad enough but I’m trying. At this moment I just rather be on pace in life if it means sacrificing whatever little I have left I don’t really care about family because my only meaningful family is just my two parents. I’m an only child. I can’t go see friends, or call them much really

Here is a TRUE Haunted House Story that a gentleman by the name of “Kenneth” emailed to me last week that I am currently working on to narrate. This is one creepy story. 😬 I hope you enjoy.
Story by - “Kenneth”
I’ve been living in a house that is very haunted for the better part of 53 years. I guess you can say that, I grew up here. And lived here my entire life.
And I’ve made a happy home for my wife and daughter here as well. At least we try to make this a happy home. We’ve experienced things that are so bizarre you’d almost think that we were crazy for even talking about them.
Nevermind the things I’ve heard and seen in this house while growing up.
While I would love to talk about everything that has happened here, I would like to tell you about how it all started for me when I was seven years old. It's actually the very first incident that I encountered while living here.
The house was built in 1875. It’s been remodeled throughout the years to keep up with modern times, but it still rests on the very foundation it was built on.
This house… as I’m writing this, I can hear footsteps creaking above me on the second floor. This is an all day thing. But we’ve learned to live with it. While growing up here, and being the only child, my parents already knew about the house being haunted. But they tried sheltering me from it. Meaning, if I heard something strange, my father or mother would say something to the likes of…
“Oh honey, those damn pipes again. We need to call the plumber.”
Or if there were footsteps creaking on the floor boards they would blame the flooring for being very old. I would hear scratching all throughout the walls and ceilings. All sorts of strange and bizarre sounds.
But this incident, this day, changed everything. And I remember this day, or rather night, as if it happened yesterday.
It was around 11:00 at night. It was a school night. And I was asleep. But something woke me up. I heard a voice whisper in my right right ear…
“We can’t let them get away.”
My eyes slowly opened up and I laid there for a moment. I called out for both my mother and father and looked over at my bedroom door but it was shut. I flipped over to my side and fell back asleep.
I heard this voice loud and clear. I know I did. But I think my brain was telling me to ignore it. Well, that was just the beginning of it. Because a few moments later it decided to really stir things up with me…
“Boy… HELP THEM THEY’RE BURNING ALIVE!”
I jumped out of bed so rapidly and even peed myself as I ran to my parents bedroom. My parents both looked at each other and then looked at me like they knew something but didn’t want to tell me. They gave me the old mumbo jumbo and told me that I was having a bad dream. My mother got out of bed. Got me fresh pajamas and socks while I cleaned myself up.
Peeing yourself at seven years old isn’t fun. Especially when it’s a raspy old scary voice shouting that someone’s burning alive in your bedroom while you’re sleeping.
My mother asked if I wanted to sleep with her and my father in their bed after that. You bet your ass I did. I hopped in that bed quicker than a fox chasing a rabbit. I was a small boy for seven. And both of my parents were average sized too, so, I fit right in there.
Alright… Here is where it gets very, very scary. If this doesn’t scare the socks off of you I don’t know what will. And before I continue, the voice that I heard? We think it’s the original owner of the house. Without giving away too much information about my home, the very first owner of this home…
He was an evil man…
We’ve heard stories about him torturing animals, killing them, and then taxiderming them, scattering them all throughout the house like his own little museum of horror.
Throughout the years I would experience more voices, more scratching on the walls and ceilings. Eventually my parents wound up telling me that the house was haunted by a creepy man with an evil past. And we lived with it. We were never physically harmed by it. It was more of a nuisance than anything.
That all changed on the night I brought my wife home to begin a life here with me.
We’re high school sweethearts. So, she knows about this place. She stayed here overnight plenty of times before we got married. But on the night she moved in, it wasn’t happy at all.
I’ll never forget the hour and minute. It was 2:27 in the morning. We were both asleep. My wife woke up first because she felt something tugging on her arm. She then woke me up and told me what she felt. This was the first time in all the years anyone has ever been physically touched by this spirit. This had never happened before so it was quite a shock to me.
And after being awake for about a few minutes or so, our bedroom door slammed shut! Our blanket was pulled away from us and thrown across the room. And we heard heavy footsteps as if someone was walking across the roof!
It was as if the house was coming to life.
In all my years of living here, I have never seen this much activity. Yet alone in one single night.
After the blanket got pulled away from us and thrown across the room things finally seemed to calm down. And the entire house was ominously quiet.
Too quiet…
But then a dark black shadow decides to grace us with its presence by moving along the walls in the bedroom and fading into nothingness. My wife and I did not move from the bed during all of this. We were terror-stricken. And then a foul odor begins to come from underneath the bed followed by a sonorous growl that vibrated underneath us.
By this point it felt like something grave was about to happen and I had to do something. Or at least I had to try. I grabbed a hold of my wife’s hand and told her to be brave and to not fear this thing. Because that's what it wants. It wants to scare us out of our home and we can’t allow that to happen. But we mustard up the courage to face this evil spirit and began reciting the Lord’s Prayer.
The bedroom door slammed again and again, four times consecutively. With steady growls underneath the bed, but we stood our ground. Praying to the almighty to help and asking him to show this spirit to the light.
A raspy old voice then shouts from underneath the bed.
“Get out!… Leave my house!”
And I said…
“No! If you're stuck here like you’ve been all these years, then you’re going to have to learn to live with us. In peace or war. Because this is my house now. Not yours. You're dead! Leave already! Go! Go with God. And Go into the light.”
After 10 minutes of praying and arguing with this thing. It all just seemed to come to a pass. I wiped the tears of fear from my wife’s eyes and embraced her painful shivers.
I, too, was frozen over by the horror that leveled us during that night.
And nothing of that magnitude ever occurred again. And our home stood silent for a while. For a year to be exact. Which was very peaceful. The voices and scratching on the walls and ceilings, footsteps and disembodied voices eventually returned. But it doesn’t bother us at all. We pay it no mind.
Doesn’t bother my daughter. Not my wife nor I. We’ve just learned to live with it.
I know that must sound strange. But this is my home. Our home. And we intend to keep it that way.
Thank you, Kenneth Sr.

scarystories #horrorstories #hauntedhouse #creepypasta #poltergeist

Disclaimer: This story is not to be used in any other way other than reading, sharing your thoughts on it, and enjoying the creepy thought of living with a Poltergeist/Ghost in your home. 👻
The content producer has this story copyrighted and protected by the Library of Congress/Copyright Office.
💀

Hi,
I have bad addiction of lets say fapping ( i've tried joining nofap failed), i've got disability and unable to work yet where i live government keep trying to take people who are born with disabilities and what not benefits so worried about my future, homeless? I can't work due to my disability and had many operations on my feet, i tried slitting my wrists couple years ago even then i'm useless .. i lost all my self respect when i was round 14-19 when girls cheated/messed me about or never showed up on dates, yes im a loser. If governments allowed painless suicide I'd be the first person to show up, i started looking at kitchen knifes, or drinking washing liquid or something i hate the worries, i hate the feeling of aloneness, or never being able to do any good in society , worried about becoming homeless at one point i'd rather just get it done with and be free wasn't sure where to write this, people may see me smiling but inside im not so fed up

I have a hard time believing I am my boyfriends priority and it’s because any free time he has he sees his family who has talked down on me in the past. It just triggers me to a point where i break down crying everytime he’s home later or something. I also make a point to come home before he gets off work to maximize our time together and he never does the same always coming home hours later. He says i’m a priority and that he’d rather hang out with me but every time we are supposed to we either end up with his family or he at least calls them once while we are together. I just never feel prioritized & it triggers me and causes me to split so bad and then i’m fine up until the next time he hangs out with them or calls them while we are suppose to be having time alone. I know they’re his family and I cannot expect him to stop talking to them so I am looking for a way to regulate myself since he doesn’t see a problem & says I am his #1 priority because his first choice is to always be with me. I just want a few tools to regulate feeling left out/abandoned when they go places without me or he decides he wants to be with all of us.

Within days of the Synde Co. vs Hawks Co. war erupting, I predicted on this subreddit that Hawks was going to demolish Synde. Many folks ridiculed me, as Hawks appeared to be losing. From all outside perspectives, the constant collapse of farms was indicating Hawks was indeed going to lose. However, this was never the case.

1. Zero sum game.

Within the global economy (and competitive video games too), personnel are a zero sum game. There are only so many professionals in our world and corporations compete for them. This oftentimes means highly educated people in developing nations will end up leaving for wealthier developed nations. This is to the detriment of those developing nations.
The same exists in wormholes.
Elite groups oftentimes have their pick of candidates. They can be selective. Once someone meets their criteria, they can allow time to see if they fit the general culture of the group. If they create a little too much friction, they're booted. This leads to a generally cohesive group. So, envision if you will, a giant funnel with the very narrowest of necks. This narrow neck represents the top wormhole groups being fed the best wormholers in the game.
Lazerhawks was established 10 years ago from the merger of several already existing successful wormhole and low sec groups. They have had their pick of the best wormholers for a decade, on top of some of the best wormholers establishing them.

2. Where do the players go?

In wormhole groups, players will oftentimes not even be playing EVE, rather 'other games' together. This is generally due to the variable nature of day-to-day wormhole life. This leads to groups sticking together even during EVE breaks. Also, it creates loyalty beyond the game of EVE Online. When players take long breaks, even from the group, still active group members can still get in contact with them. Oftentimes small sub-groups will have eachother's real phone numbers. This means if a war breaks out, people who have been AFG for years can be quickly re-activated. Many times these players are only active during wartime.
The worst thing a wormhole group could ever do is ban 'other games.'
Lazerhawks has always highly encouraged members playing 'other games' together.

3. The abyss!

People forget how ancient many members of Hawks are. Their CEO has been playing EVE for 20 years. Hawks has quite a few members that have been living in wormholes for as long as wormholes have existed in EVE Online. Hawks has line members that have successfully run independent wormhole groups that subsequently merged with Hawks to form Lazerhawks. Hawks has members that are so old and deep in wormhole space culture, that they've crafted portions of it. People where their entire map of EVE Online is based on wormhole connections.
Each of these sort of members capable of not just operating independently, but with the utmost stealth. I've been told by several Hawks folks that even top Hawks leadership wasn't aware of the independent eviction groups Hawks line members had created for fighting Synde. Imagine, EVE leaders out there, discovering that you're not losing the war nearly as badly as you thought, because several 2-3 person groups had independently started reinforcing and destroying enemy structures? Imagine then also discovering that your enemy is stalling because of these actions?
Ancient players don't need to be told if they can or can't shoot blue targets.
Ancient players don't ask if they can farm while a war is going on.
Ancient players don't ask if the system they found 'is a target.'
Ancient players don't need SRP.
Ancient players won't waste your time with unimportant information.
Ancient players are already on that new incoming signature with a rolling carrier.
Ancient players play EVE by the ancient ways.

4. Kiddie gloves.

Many people aren't aware of this fact; Hawks has been using kiddie gloves for the last couple of years on Synde. After the fall of HK, Hawks stood alone as the supreme masters of wormholes. Synde was starting to become a potential candidate for a new fledgling group, that is until this war started. The issue was, Synde often didn't want to fight Hawks. They would demand handicaps, like being "allowed 30 seconds after jumping into the wormhole" to "get into position." This actually didn't bother Hawks too much, as they simply wanted to fight. The handicaps became more and more extreme, with Synde regularly saying they wouldn't fight unless allowed to set up at (whatever range their comp was ideal at.)
So, all the fights you've seen between Hawks and Synde have effectively been fights where Hawks took major handicaps to make happen.
This created a false sense of strength in Synde. This handicap play actually strengthened Hawks, while weakening Synde. Hawks got to the point where they became more interested in pulling stunts on Synde than actually fighting. One such situation involved a Synde Zirnitra falling for a POS bubble trap and being summararily executed in front of its fleet, which was trying to frantically free itself of warp disruption bubbles.
Once the war started, the kiddie gloves came off. Hawks no longer had to be nice to get fights.

5. Cyrus v. Michael

At the end of the day, failure or success during wartime comes down to how well your organization is prepared. Cyrus thought he was prepared. Honestly, he did a lot of work. He created a narrative, albeit a bit ad hoc when compared to other recorded statements he's made. He created a coalition. He made his best preparations for war, I'm sure. He even had a major null sec group to bat phone, in case of emergency only.
The issue is, Cyrus' relationship with reality is a bit convenient for his personal image. He has been said to have lied to many wormhole leaders in order to start this war, which actually harmed him, quite a bit. I've received many reports on the various lies people have said Cyrus told them to get them to join his Coalition. Trust is a thing that, once broken, is oftentimes impossible to regain.
Michael has the opposite approach of Cyrus. He is sincere and honest to a fault. He's not afraid to express disappointment and praise. You know where you stand with Michael fairly soon after first meeting him. He's a natural delegator and a dedicated farmer. "Why can't you do it?" is his favorite response to anyone complaining about something needing to be done. He's extremely competent, but not smug about it. He's the first to admit when he makes mistakes. He was willing to use some of his credit to barter with his peers to hand over some c6 wormholes Cyrus felt entitled to. C6 holes that Hawks characters likely found, or evicted, themselves.
You see, Michael has created a coalition within Hawks. Hawks has never been a single entity. There are subgroups within Hawks that operate independently. Some of the subgroups are actually more ancient than Hawks. They're more ancient than all but the most ancient null sec alliances. How are you going to kill the morale of members that have been playing together for over 10 years? Those guys aren't going to second-guess who their enemy is for even a second. They've won every war they've been in for 10, 12, 15, or even 20 years!
There's a joke I keep hearing from Hawks Co. members. It's "Synde thought they could take on Lazerhawks, but they couldn't even take on a few of their members."
At the end of the day, this was never going to be a fair fight. Hawks was always going to clobber Synde. While the reasons listed above are major contributing factors to the success of Hawks, it's the basic culture that really makes Hawks so great. Hawks see wormholes as wild. As something you have to earn. Cyrus made it clear he felt entitled to it. He thought it was so obvious that he'd earned a seat at the table, that he was incredulous that he was not offered that seat as a gift.
Cyrus,
The moment you demanded systems be given to you as some sort of prize is the moment you stopped being a wormholer.
You're not losing to Hawks Co, rather, in your hubris you've defeated yourself.
May all future wormholes collapse as you land on them.

We closed on our construction loan yesterday and I'm trying to stay ahead when it comes to materials selections bc I suck at decisions. Currently, I'm looking into Windows.
Our 2900sf house will be built in North Alabama and the bid was 545k (I expect it to be more.) It will be built in full sun bc my husband loathes trees (our current home has 2 huge oaks that make an entire canopy above it and we're always certain we're going to end up with a tree falling on our house and constantly picking up limbs.)
The plan is to do spray foam for insulation to help offset the heat due to the full sun and dark colored roof (we think dark roof strictly based on appearance; still deciding).
So the quote our builder gave us (fully custom home and not a tract builder) for windows was 9k and that seems insanely cheap to me. It was for Ellison brand, single hung vinyl windows. We don't open our windows often bc it's the South and bc of bugs, so I don't mind doing single vs double in order to save some money.
I haven't asked the builder which line of windows the bid covers, so can't tell you the rating or any of that, I'm just wondering if I'm correct in thinking this is an insanely low number. He basically said it'll be around $300/window and there's 24 of them, 3 of which are picture windows. Not sure if that includes the few transom windows we discussed in our last meeting or not, but highly doubt it.
My husband and I went to visit the company he buys them through and looked at them and asked a few simple questions. I wish I'd asked how black vinyl windows do in the sun since we're in the a South and they'll be in full sun. Anyone have experience with this? They did tell us black windows cost about 30% more, although our builder told us the 9k wouldn't be too far off from covering the black windows. We've been very forward in that we want to try to stay on budget, so maybe he added a little cushion in there to give us worst case scenario???
So when it comes to affordable windows, what do you suggest? Are black vinyl windows a hard no? I'm the type that would rather spend a little more up front and have them last longer but my husband just says" trust the builder.. he uses them all the time so I'm sure they're fine.. let's just get in the house and see how they perform.. yada yada yada. I have a feeling windows will be what we end up strongly disagreeing about. I suppose I'm more cynical.
If you made it this far, thank you! I know it's a lot of rambling.

Hi Everyone, I'm researching CPQ software. Subskribe appears to be an up and coming company. The CPQ tool pushes sales reps outside of their CRM tool (eg. SFDC). After working 10+ years in SAAS at mid and enterprise level companies, I haven't met many reps that would be open to dealing with stand alone third party quoting system.
Does anyone have any thoughts or insights on what would convince a sales org to adopt a product like Subskribe other than price?
If Accounts Managers are open to separate QTC, would it be a hard requirement to have a mobile app to manage approvals and small changes?

I'm most of the way through book 11 (Knife of Dreams) in my first read/listening of the series. Book 11 might be my favorite so far, except for maybe 4, the Shadow Rising.
Book 11 has had some of the best scenes in the series so far, and it's also really feeling like Tarmon Gai'don is getting closer. (I'm ready to get over Elayne's arc with the succession. 🙃)
And so, I thought I would make a list of some of my favorites of the series so far.
Past Books
-Ingtar's confession and sheathing the sword
-Mat in the red door Ter'angreal (both times)
-Mat's arc of discovering his luck in Book 3, and also him beating up Gawyn and Galad
-Rand in the rings of Rhuidean: The steps forward taking Rand back in time to find the origins of the people of the Dragon was really well done and fascinating
-Rand reveals the secret of the Aiel at Alcair Dal: This felt like a dramatic courtroom case, where Couladin denies the secrets of Rhuidean and the clan chiefs side with Rand
-Perrin's return to the Two Rivers
-Min and Siuan's escape from the Tower
-Mat failing to get Rand's attention until he calls "Lews Therin"
-Perrin talking to the wolves preceeding dumai's wells: "They have shadow slayer." "We come."
-Elayne, Nynaeve, and later Egwene in Salidar: It's cool to start to see the respective strengths of these 3 blossom as Nynaeve heal's gentling, Elayne makes Ter'angreal, and Egwene discovering traveling and more
-Morgaize relinquishing the throne to Elayne as the Seanchan take Amador
-Egwene maneuvering several Ais Sedai to swear fealty on the march to Tar'Valon
-Nynaeve reuniting with Lan AND overcoming her block: I'd been waiting for both of those things to happen for books and they happened at the same time
-Seeing the awe and fear from several points of view as chanellers around the world feel Rand and Nynaeve cleansing saidin
Book 11
-Galad challenging tricking Carridin into a trial by sword: Is Galad a prick? Definitely. But this scene was cool anyway. The white cloaks ride for Tarmen Gai'don
-Nynaeve tricking Lan and leaving him in Saldea: "[Lan Mandragoran] rides from World’s End toward Tarwin’s Gap, toward Tarmon Gai’don. Will he ride alone?" Made all the better by the backdrop of New Spring
-Perrin negotiates with the seanchan: Boy was I wrong when I thought Faile's capture would be a one book affair. But intimidating the banner general with his yellow eyes, Two Rivers archers, and the royalty and Asha'man who follow him was pretty sick.
-🌟 Egwene's imprisonment in the tower: This was easily my favorite POV in the whole series so far. The dignity of Egwene as she refuses to deny who she is and the inevitable earning of respect from the novices, accepted, and many sisters was just so cool. For those who are Sanderson fans it reminded me of Bridge 4.
Last but not least:
-"The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again.": This quote ages like fine wine, and it's my favorite part of starting new book.

So, there I was, working at a mid-sized IT firm as a software developer. My team had always been pretty laid-back, focusing on results rather than the exact hours we were glued to our desks. Our projects were delivered on time, our clients were happy, and our team morale was high. That is, until we got a new project manager, let's call him Dave.
Dave was fresh from a highly regimented corporate background and had ideas about “proper workplace management,” which basically meant micromanaging everything. He'd schedule unnecessary daily status meetings, demanded we fill out hourly work logs, and insisted that everyone strictly adhere to 9-to-5 office hours with minimal breaks.
One day, during one of his infamous "efficiency crackdowns", he sent out an email with a new policy that all coding must be done strictly within office hours to "ensure collaboration and supervision". This was ridiculous because creative work like coding often requires flexible hours for maximum productivity. But Dave was adamant, and he ended his email with, "If you think you can find a loophole, think again. Follow the rules, or we'll find someone who will."
Challenge accepted, Dave.
I decided to comply—meticulously. I coded strictly between 9:00 AM and 5:00 PM, not a minute earlier, not a second later. If I encountered a bug or was in the middle of a complex piece of code? Too bad. 5 PM means the end, no matter what. My teammates, fed up with being treated like schoolchildren, followed my lead.
The results were predictable. Projects that usually took a couple of weeks started dragging on. Tasks that we could have completed in days with a bit of overtime took much longer because we couldn't capitalize on the bursts of late-afternoon productivity we were used to. Our workflow was severely disrupted, and the quality of our work started to deteriorate.
Dave noticed, of course. He had to answer to upper management for the "sudden drop in productivity and lack of commitment", which he knew was a result of our dissatisfaction with his new policy. When upper management called for an impromptu Zoom meeting with the entire at 4:30 PM to address the ongoing project delays, the entire team logged in to explain our situation.
In the meeting, Dave spent half an hour shifting blame and berating individual team members. He didn't even mention the 9-5 policy that had led to the whole situation. As the clock ticked towards 5:00 PM, the tension in the virtual room was palpable, and our team hatched a plan over text.
Right on cue, as the clock struck 5:00 PM, one of the employees spoke up, "In compliance with Dave’s 9-to-5 rule, we must log off now." Without missing a beat, every team member clicked "Leave Meeting," leaving a stunned Dave to face the executives alone.
This abrupt mass exit highlighted the impracticality of Dave’s rigid policy, making it clear to the executives that change was necessary. The incident, quickly dubbed as the "5:00 Zoom Exodus," led to another meeting, where Dave was publicly admonished and instructed to abolish his strict rules in favor of more flexibility.
And as for me and my team? We made sure to celebrate our little victory with a well-deserved happy hour... after 5 PM, of course.

Tw: family death and emotional abuse/neglect
I hate venting online as it’s futile and embarrassing for me (no one has to feel this way. This is just my own personal view that is mine and only mine) So, I will probably delete this soon for I also hate showing weakness to strangers since it always leads to more abuse it seems and i am often weary of others. So, with this, I’ll try and open up even if it’s temporary.

A bit of backstory I guess. My mother died when I was 7 which left behind a hole that needed to be filled for dad and I. She, the step “mom”, came along to help us for she struggled with a divorce of an abusive ex husband. She had issues, as you would expect, yet here I thought of her as someone I could get along with, to play with, to be around when things got bad, and all the things a little kid would think. At first, everything was fine, I even had silly nicknames for her that she “enjoyed” she responded with kindness to these (one was care bear, another was pumpkin because it was fall and she liked the smell, the others I don’t remember) and I remember how happy I was when she liked the little nicknames. Since it was the beginning, I would want her over often as I wanted someone to become a person I could look for as a mom but not as a replacement to my actual mom who recently died during that time. I liked her. 

Alas these things don’t get a happy ending, as with time, dad got more ill. During this time she would be by his side more (which is totally understandable, I would too for my lover I didn’t show jealousy during this time but support as I got to spend more time with my “sister”) and it slowly evolved to hospital visits. I would slowly pick up being a “parent” for her disabled daughter when I was 9/10/11 (can’t remember exact age, sorry). This was because she would go out with dad to spend time with him, go to the other room to isolate from us (either needing alone time or to help him. Not my business), be with him for hospital stays, etc. I was used to this since I was accustomed to helping my dad with his medical issues and helped him get ready for “life” by the time I was late 7/early 8 due to his own health failing as well.
Hop years later. After problem and after problem I had gotten in with her and vice versa I realize my step mother never genuinely cared about me. I know it takes two to tango and it’s partly my fault, I get where I fell in my faults and I’ve accepted them as my lessons in day to day life. I’m not perfect. As I became more reclusive to her as she showed a lack of accountability (and to this day, she won’t admit and see why it was so wrong for her to do things that were heavily against me) I was then always the scapegoat as she showed love and gushed over her actual kids (this was always a issue, I just didn’t think about it as a little kid and I got “bratty” when I got older as i began to recognize the “unfairness”). My achievements were worthless and often met with a “you should’ve already been good at that”, “you should know better by now”, or “that should already have been done if it was something important to you”. The typical “you aren’t good enough” wearing different clothes.
The feelings of being useless had already creeped in by the time I was 10/11 so this was going on for a long time (along with many other issues that I’m not gonna get into). Even as I got nearly straight A’s in college I was never praised except by dad (who unfortunately died when I was early 19. I miss him to this day). I know I should not have sought out praise, especially if I was grown, but I would’ve loved a “good job” from her… I know that’s silly but it would’ve been nice to be seen as her actual kid worthy of love and being seen that way just a little. I know my pesky teen years didn’t help but I was still her kid in some capacity but I was treated like a punching bag. All because she had her own jealousy and hate for me. (Even her own kids called her out on how she treated me, nothing changed from her.)
Now with no family left except a few aunts, she tried everything she can to ensure I don’t become independent (I don’t wanna talk too much about it, I’m too tired plus this post is getting rather long as it is).
The parts that hurt the most were: She refused my safety from my childhood to adulthood. She never cared what truly happened to me it seems.
Never really paid attention to me unless to berate me which was done usually in the form of gossiping to others. Plus attempting to embarrass me in front of others so when my teenage self got upset she can use my reaction as “proof” and to “justify” herself, sometimes trying to attempt it to adult me as she smiled and snickered about it. Thankfully most adults who were older took pity and even commented on how arrogant and awful she seemed as a person (adult me, they never did anything about teenage me which I get, I fell for her tricks that made me look bad. Happy I learned that lesson young, at least there is that).
She snooped around my room and life to gossip to her kids about me on how much of a failure I was and how disgusting of a person I am. Then got mad when I isolated or kept my life very secretive.
She would find issues with me just to try to make my dad hate me which thankfully it failed. I’m unsure if this was a attempt to further isolate me because I wasn’t a part of her “actual kids”. I don’t know and I’m too tired to know, it’s done and over with I can vent about that in therapy. However she sadly was successful in getting him to yell at me. The worst part of the yelling is that she would watch me cry or go to the other room to listen rather than just leaving me alone. I now realize it was a way for her to “get off” I believe.
When she realized she couldn’t control my life she tried hiding food from me as I was early 20’s because she had “control issues with me” (her words not mine). I didn’t like things going to waste so I’d eat nearly expired foods often and she would get pissy that I was “stealing from her”.
She gossiped to strangers about how I never do anything with myself and suspected I was just a useless failure. (I was in college with a job, thanks.)
When I did finally snap from the times she would treat me poorly she held on to it. I guess to put it, think of me over reacting I get I did wrong and I learned my lesson but when she snapped with a over reaction or something really hurtful she expected to be forgiven.
She also would steal from me and blame me (but would expect me to keep my hands to myself when I was hungry and didn’t have the time or funds to get food… this one still bothers me but I will talk in detail of this to my therapist not here as I’m tired and the post is already long enough).
All I wanted was a mom to care but I guess I couldn’t get that because the one I got died when I barely got to know her. There is more to say but I think that is all of us here, too much to say about someone who was supposed to love us. My apologies if my post is in shambles I never really let anything out like this so I’m sure I kinda sound “childish” but like- I really hate Mother’s Day and I just wanted to let it out, even if I delete this later.

what do you do when you planned your whole future with someone all for it to be gone in the blink of an eye
it felt like a given but it wasn’t
i wish i could still feel excited about the future. hopeful plans of getting married and all that but i’m scared to get my hopes up
most of the last 5 years has been full of disappointment and i’m convinced that’s all there really is
i’d rather feel any other emotion
i’m scared to be fully present to hope and wish for things to trust that things are going to work out i’m scared that everything eventually turns to shit that people change for the worse that the things i want will slip through my fingers again i’m too scared to hold them anymore too scared to even attempt to touch them
i hope all of the people i love get to have everything i feel like i’ll never get i can’t be upset or jealous of that they deserve it
right now i feel like i’m in limbo and the thought of being alone for the rest of my life and giving up on that dream of a white picket fence is a safer option than trusting my heart in the hands of another person again.