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Good morning and apologies, the following is a bit of a rant.
I have been living in Berlin (on and off) since the 80s, so I am used to generally rude behaviour of motorists. However, what I am not used to (yet) is being nearly run over at green pedestrian lights -- this happened to me this morning TWICE.
First time when crossing a traffic light with my daughter on the way to her KiLa. White transport van comes at high speed from behind and turns right INTO US, missing us by maybe 20-30 cm. Drives on completely unfazed. Lady crossing the other way just said "Das war knapp" (Berlin speak for "You are lucky to be alive, mate").
Second time on my way to the tram. Pedestrian crossing on Invalidenstraße (long stretch between Lehrter Str and Alt-Moabit -- they put a pedestrian crossing in the middle, so that pedestrians like me can cross the street safely, LOL). Stepped about 2-3m into the street (green pedestrian light, all cyclists and tram nicely waiting), when a boomer wagon with a confused looking boomer couple suddenly shoots past in front of me (half a meter to a meter) at about 40-50 kph. The driver was probably focussing on the NEXT traffic light at Alt Moabit and really really wanted to catch the green phase over there.
How the fcuk is this normal??? How are you supposed to safely cross a road at a light when motorists are totally happy to kill you for the convenience of not having to stop??
In future, I will look twice, even at green lights, if I am the only one crossing the road. But I don't think even that would have prevented the delivery van from running into me and my daughter from behind (unless I get a 360° LIDAR on my head).

Helena - Courtlady of Lannisport

Part 1

Reddit Account: SunstriderAlar
Discord Tag: u/SunstriderAlar
Name and House: Helena
Age: 22
Cultural Group: Westerman
Appearance: Helena is a young woman with soft doe-eyes, and unmistakable curling, golden hair. Raised by smallfolk, and Septa’s she wears her hair up and away from her face to ensure she does not let it get wet while cleaning or in her mouth while singing. She has delicate, porcelain, pale skin and cloudy soft blue eyes. No taller than 5’5” and is most often dressed in conservative simple fashions gathered by herself, or more elegant options gifted to her by a doting patron for formal events. Never shy to present her opinion, Helena has seen the world change, and her place in it numerous times. She is unafraid to do what she must, but knows the role of a woman.
Helena prefers to wear blue and yellow, the colours of Lord Swyft’s old sigil even though she has not lived in Cornfield for many years, and has no personal attachment to the house. Her real love though is unique broaches, and hairpins, different pins reveal different favours or stylings for different lords. She does enjoy crafting dresses as well, when the rare bolt of fabric comes her way she enjoys sewing and tailoring. She is often seen carrying a unique wooden six stringed lyre, or a three stringed lute; the former the cause for her name the Six Eyed Singer. She daps herself with lavender water most mornings, and cleans her teeth with mint, and rose now that she is employed by the Lannisters of Lannisport. Clean teeth are the hallmark of a charming, easy smile to make hearts of men and women alike flutter.
Trait: Elusive Shadow
Skill(s): Espionage, Devious, Schemer, Covert, Rumourmonger
Talent(s): Storyteller, lyre playing, deft fingers
Negative Trait(s): N/A
Starting Title(s): The Six-Eyed Singer, Septa Morgan, Jinny of Aegon’s Rest
Starting Location: Opening event

Part 2: Biography

Swyft Sept (3AC - 15AC)
Helena’s early life began in the Sept of Cornfield where her mother begged the Septa’s to take her. Dutifully, though reluctantly, they agreed, for what else were they to do, and where else was the girl to go. To the Governess of Cornfield, under the sanctity of the confessional, the woman, aching from the pain of birth and shame, confessed that the little girl was the bastard of Lord Swyft. The Governess, doubtful but knowing the man was not without vice, kept the secret to herself and allowed the girl to remain. The woman, who’s name was never revealed even to the Septa's, fled into the night shortly after never to be seen again. Helena was then, as promised, raised by the septas and the Governess of House Swyft. She learns basic literacy from the Seven Pointed Star with the Sisters and numbers from the Governess. Alongside her studies, she was put to work on chores like maid work, baking, cooking, cleaning, and serving Lord Swyft.
In 11AC, a travelling minstrel named The Lying Lyre arrived at Cornfield. A dashing young man with a shock of blonde curls that tumbled down his back like a mullet captivated Helena with his songs of far-off lands and noble families. In particular he sang of the Maiden’s Bay Tourney, the feats of House Targaryen, and after some time the Field of Fire and the failings of House Lannister. House Swyft was wealthy, and the Liar’s talents earned him much and more coin from the silver mines.
Helena of an age where curiosity ruled a child’s mind was enamoured with the man and his songs. She took up practising the lyre with him, and discovered that while no maestro, she had deft fingers and a mind for lyrics. Impressed by her interest and talent, the Liar gifted her a lyre before he left for future profits in far off lands. Some years of practice though, and a natural storyteller and rumourmonger Helena combined tales of the Seven Pointed Star and was invited to sing in the sept and even twice for Lord Swyft.
Six Eyed Singer (15AC - 20AC)
It was not to last though and following the slaughter in the Kingswood, the line of House Swyft was extinguished. Not wanting to test the new residents of Cornfield, the Warriors Sons and Poor Fellows, after all, all men have vice, she left Cornfield, and took to singing on the road. Going under the name Lyrebird, Helena played and sang for her coin and lodgings, a young girl protected only by being seen when she wanted and an elusive shadow when she did not.
Times on the road were not easy and The Lyrebird drew much attention. This necessitated the need for another alter ego and after a year on the road and towns and villages through the West were soon visited by the travelling Septa Morgan. The Septa heard confessions and sins, gave forgiveness and offered small advice to the poor and needy. She spared coins where she could and allowed Helena to remain covert. It did not matter to most that she was no real septa, she wore the robes, knew the words, and offered as a good moral compass to children. For most in the far flung reaches of the West she was enough.
Being raised in the faith though telling a perpetual lie about being a sister of the cloth was a little too much to bear for Helena. After a year with the reputation of Septa Morgan growing through the small folks of small villages, the Septa soon faded away. Instead Jinny of Aegon’s Rest started coming to smaller castles; Turnbury, Redbramble, Parren Hall, Oldstars and the like. She took on odd jobs cleaning, cooking, teaching a daughter to read or a son to do his numbers. She was after all no threat, knew her letters and numbers herself, and was capable of scheming many a septa or fatherly gatesman to let her in.
Jinny of Aegon’s Rest became a traveller through the keeps of the Westerlands. She heard the tales from children and small folk alike. She had never meant to undertake espionage, but her place inside various courts across the land, and her talent for being in the right place at the right time meant she was an unfortunate witness to many a courtly intrigue. As her small gifts earned her again a broad reputation she would be traded between greater lords. Soon she was playing for the elite, and earning the rewards that came with it. Helena of Cornfield once again took a new name, the Six Eyed Singer, which she quickly used to escape her courtly life and take again to the road as a travelling minstrel.
The Strawberry Tourney and Ball (20AC - Current)
The Six Eyed Singer formed a little bard troupe, nothing extravagant, she wasn’t playing for the Lannisters or the Targaryen’s yet, but enough to provide several shows across the Westerlands, Reach, and former Kingdom of the Trident. Her troupe, much like she had been accidentally, was devious, and while she or they sang, pockets were pinched, and many houses were looted. Her troupe when apart played for all the minor and middle nobles of the Trident and of the Reach too now. She and they were as much a part of the debauchery of the West as any of the wealthy merchants. There was no party too scandalous, no whorehouse unsung, no court too far flung for the right price and the West had gold burning through pockets.
The Six Eyed Singer was not the only bard with a troupe though and soon through the Kingdoms after Aegon’s conquest artisans, bards, and mummers alike filled the world with talent. In 20AC the Songbird made its mark, and with a little bit of fun, a lot of resentment for nobility, and an ingrained childlike sense of chaos, the first of the Songbirds’ letters sang. The voice of the little people flooded across the western coast of the Iron Throne. Lord Belaerys’ dragon had eaten several children whilst growing fat and hungry. Lancel Lannister had claimed the maidenhood of his chambermaid, and sired a bastard all at the age of just fifteen. Lord Frey schemed against his overlord for a free and independent Trident once again. Was all of it true? Impossible to say, but there were enough truths to turn heads, and the songs of the Songbird began to cause chaos in the Westerlands most of all. The Six Eyed Singer and her troupe played through it all, they were bards, but the Songbird was the most famous one of all; not their little merry band.
The Six Eyed Singer though continued her good work, and with her reputation came an invite to participate at the Strawberry Tourney and Ball alongside the other bardic troupes of the West and Reach. She was not so famous as to be alone, merely enough to earn an invite, and a paid job. The planning was years long, and with new songs and tunes came new rumours. While the Six-Eyed Singer played songs such as Fleece-eye, Dornish Sour Grapes, and Lion of the West, the Songbird worked their chaos.
A ripple pulsed through the tourney, first a cheater in the joust was revealed, Ser Byron who was disqualified as a result. Then a second cheater, this time in the melee, then a third cheater again in the joust Lord Payne had accepted a bribe from Lord Reyne to fall early. Cheating in the tourney was just the start, cheating in the bedroom of the ball was the main affair. Here the Songbird revealed three affairs; Lords Serret and Lyden were both fathers to children on women , not their wives. While Lady Serret and Lady Ruskin were bedfriends behind their husbands’ backs. There was one final scandal though, which was revealed to all at the tourney. Septon Karron was no true anointed Septon, and worse there was legitimacy to foulness surrounding young boys who served him.
The chaos broke over the tourney and all the artisans in attendance were forced to flee. Yet, all was not lost, for Lord Gerold Lannister of Lannisport had taken his eye to Helena and her playing. He offered her a job, for he wished to be a great sponsor of art in the new Seven Kingdoms. So it was she came to a courtly position, advising the Lord Lannister on matters of fine art, musicians, mummery, and all manner of artisanal dealings.
Timeline
3AC - Helena is born in the Sept of Cornfield, her mother a woman from Silverhill who begs the septa’s to take the girl in. She reveals her identity to the Governess of House Swyft, and claims the child is Lord Swyft’s bastard. She leaves shortly after giving birth and recovering.
4-10AC - She is raised in the cloister with the sisters, her Septa mothers raising her lessons on reading from the Seven Pointed Star, and numbers from the Governess to ensure that she can do basic arithmetic. She takes basic lessons in scullery maid work, baking, and general service work for old Lord Swyft.
11AC - A travelling minstrel, The Lying Lyre, comes through Cornfield to sing songs of the tourney of Maiden’s Bay, House Targaryen, and the Field of Fire. He takes a liking to the young Helena, and gifts her a lyre. He stays in Cornfield for some time, both because it is lucrative and because he enjoys teaching the young girl.
12-14AC - The Lying Lyre departs Cornfield but leaves a talented and hardworking Helena with the sisters once more. She takes to singing sections of the Seven Pointed Star, and even performs for Lord Swyft a few times.
15AC - The House of Swyft dies out and Helena, unaware of her claimed parentage but with a talent for song leaves the cloister and takes to the road, not trusting the new Warriors Sons or Poor Fellows. She uses the name Lyrebird and sings and plays her lyre for coin to survive.
16AC - After a year on the road Helena takes up the name Septa Morgan and takes to hearing confessions of the poor and needy across the Westerlands. Many of them need guidance and wearing her septa robes she is the perfect person to hear them. She is no real Septa but no amount of explaining the technicality of that stops people asking her to forgive them.
17AC - Her reputation as Septa Morgan grows a little too heavy on her shoulders, and Helena takes to wearing more common clothes, moving from keep to keep and working as a barmaid, scullery girl, and baker amongst other professions. She goes by the name Jinny of Aegon’s Rest.
18AC - Chance takes its favour on her, and Helena with her simple lyre is invited to play at a feast in Lannisport. Dressed now as a travelling minstrel she performs for the gathered nobles and earns herself invitations to other keeps. With her generous benefactors she hires a small troupe to perform her songs across the West.
19AC - Travelling the Westerlands, Helena under the moniker The Six Eyed Singer, takes her talents for being present at feasts and gatherings of all sorts.
20AC - Rumour of The Songbird takes hold, and the West is awash in the voice of the little people.
21AC - The Strawberry Tourney and Ball unfolds and Helena’s skills earn her favour with Lord Gerold Lannister.
22AC - Lord Gerold Lannister recognising her many talents picked her up to be one of the primary serving women in his House. His eye for artistic endeavours endeared him to her enough for a comfortable place as a favoured bard, painter, educator, and common court woman.

[I wrote this article about Macbeth for my college's newspaper, and I thought this subreddit might enjoy reading it!]
I have joked before that Shakespeare’s two favorite subjects–surpassing love, murder, madness, and crossdressing–are botany and birds. If you’ve been to New York City you might be aware of the “Shakespeare Garden” in Central Park, whose theoretical aim (though it proves nigh-impossible in practice) is to house specimens of all the plants which Shakespeare mentions in his plays. As it turns out, Bard quotes make for quite a diverse garden: there are roses which assuredly would smell as sweet by any other name; there are daffodils, that come before the swallow dares, and take the winds of March with beauty; there’s holly, heigh-ho; there’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance, there’s pansies, that’s for thoughts, there’s fennel for you, and columbines–no word on whether or not they could find any violets, though. I suppose there’s no objection to be made against those who complain that Shakespeare’s language is “flowery”; even as vicious a villain as Iago deigns to express his philosophy on life by way of botanical metaphor: “Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners.” And, of course, the plot of A Midsummer Night’s Dream revolves around a magical flower which makes people fall in love.
I doubt anyone will object to my claiming of birds as Shakespeare’s other poetical fixation: I suspect that the majority of falconry knowledge which most non-falconers have today comes from reading footnotes in their copies of Shakespeare plays, explaining exactly what Richard II means by “How high a pitch his resolution soars,” or why Hamlet says “Hillo, ho, ho” to Marcellus. But while plants are so common in Shakespeare that I don’t know of one play which we might say is especially densely forested with references to them, there is one play that stands out as particularly full of birds in comparison with the rest of the Shakespearean canon. That play is Macbeth.
This is the sort of thing that one only notices after having read a play so many times that the actual events of the plot become akin to the meter of a poem–beats which must be hit, and which start to feel so natural that one hardly notices them–and one’s attention drifts away from the big, important speeches and toward the more utilitarian words and odd little moments that bridge them. I am not the first to point it out, but it is, all the same, a delightful quirk of the play, and could be a good way for Sophomores to throw their classmates for a loop in seminar [Note: Students at our college study Macbeth during their Sophomore year.]: why are there so many birds in Macbeth?
KING. Dismay’d not this/Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo? SERG. Yes,/As sparrows eagles… -Act I, Scene II
LADY. …The raven himself is hoarse/That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan… -Act I, Scene V
BAN. This guest of summer,/The temple-haunting martlet, does approve/By his loved mansionry, that the heaven’s breath/Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze/Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird/Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle… -Act I, Scene VI
LADY. Hark! Peace! It was the owl that shriek’d, the fatal bellman… -Act II, Scene II
LADY. I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry. -Act II, Scene II
PORTER. …come in, tailor; here you may roast your goose… -Act II, Scene III
PORTER. ‘Faith, sir, we were carousing till the second cock… -Act II, Scene III
LENNOX. New hatch’d to the woeful time: the obscure bird/Clamour’d the livelong night… -Act II, Scene III
OLD MAN. …On Tuesday last,/A falcon, towering in her pride of place,/Was by a mousing owl hawk’d at and kill’d. -Act II, Scene IV
MACBETH. …Light thickens; and the crow/Makes wing to the rooky wood… -Act III, Scene II
MACBETH. If charnel-houses and our graves must send/Those that we bury back, our monuments/Shall be the maws of kites. -Act III, Scene IV
MACBETH. Augurs and understood relations have/By magot pies and choughs and rooks brought forth/The secret’st man of blood. -Act III, Scene IV
LADY MACDUFF. …the poor wren,/the most diminutive of birds, will fight,/Her young ones in her nest, against the owl. -Act IV, Scene II
LADY MACDUFF. How will you live? SON. As birds do, mother. LADY MACDUFF. What, with worms and flies? SON. With what I get, I mean; and so do they. LADY MACDUFF. Poor bird! Thou’ldst never fear the net nor lime,/The pitfall nor the gin? SON. Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for. -Act IV, Scene II
FIRST MURDERER. What, you egg! -Act IV, Scene II
MACDUFF. …there cannot be/That vulture in you… -Act IV, Scene III
MACDUFF. …O hell-kite! All?/What, all my pretty chickens and their dam/At one fell swoop? -Act IV, Scene III
MACBETH. The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon!/Where got’st thou that goose look? SERVANT. There is ten thousand– MACBETH. Geese, villain? -Act V, Scene III
Above I have listed every ornithological reference that I’ve found in the Scottish Play; as we peruse them, we certainly cannot conclude that every individual reference is of the same kind, or carries the same import. I will not pretend, for example, that, just because geese and ravens are both birds, the Porter’s invitation for the imagined English tailor to cook his goose in Hell merits as much attention as Lady Macbeth’s ominous declaration that “the raven himself is hoarse”. Nor do I think that any individual reference particularly demands explication; by itself, any one of these bird-invocations seems perfectly natural. Shakespeare’s talent is such that he can repeat a motif in such a way that on the macro level it is obvious yet on the micro level it hardly feels present. But that macro level is what interests me here: what impression is created, on the whole, by the presence of so many birds in this play? I have a theory, which, though it may seem far-fetched, I think merits at least some consideration, and which, at the very least, I have not seen stated elsewhere, and so may make a novel contribution to the conversation.
Macbeth is both Shakespeare’s most supernatural tragedy and his most Sophoclean; these two superlatives are inextricably related. The appellative Weird given to the opening scene’s three Sisters–derived from the Old English wyrd, meaning destiny, and famously given its more familiar connotation by Shakespeare himself in this very play–is, among the Bard’s works, unique to Macbeth; and just as that word appears nowhere else in Shakespeare, so is the concept it represents absent in all tragedies but this one. Though Hamlet may cry out against outrageous fortune, and though Othello may rhetoricize about how no man can control his fate, it is only in Macbeth that we truly feel that the events we see play out before us are fated, predestined, inevitable. [See Note 1.] The ghost in Hamlet commands his son to revenge his foul and most unnatural murder, but does not tell him it is certain that he will succeed; indeed, would not the drama be sapped of its intrigue if that level of certainty were present? Meanwhile, the supernatural interlopers in Macbeth offer the Scottish thane not a mission, but a prophecy: All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter! From its mystical opening word–When, not If–the Scottish play makes us aware of the certainty of all that is to befall our tragic antihero. Macbeth is thus a different sort of tragedy than Shakespeare’s others, and it works by an inverted mechanism. While the tragedy of, for example, Desdemona’s death is that it may have been prevented, the tragedy of Macbeth’s destruction is that it represents the fulfilment of fate; and this is the very same mechanism by which Oedipus Rex operates, complete with its own “Weird” character in the form of the seer Tiresias. Though Calvin managed to accept that some men are destined for greatness and others for ruin, this idea is, to Shakespeare and Sophocles, nothing short of agonizing–the stuff of tragedy.
Now: what does all of this have to do with birds? Consider these words from Antigone, spoken by Tiresias to Creon:
You shall learn, when you hear the indications of my art! As I took my place on my ancient seat for observing birds, where I can mark every bird of omen I heard a strange sound among them, since they were screeching with dire, incoherent frenzy and I knew that they were tearing each other with bloody claws, for there was a whirring of wings that made it clear… (Lloyd-Jones translation)
Consider next these words from Oedipus Tyrannus, spoken defensively by Oedipus to Tiresias:
Why, come, tell me, how can you be a true prophet? Why when the versifying hound was here did not you speak some word that could release the citizens? Indeed, her riddle was not one for the first comer to explain! It required prophetic skill, and you were exposed as having no knowledge from the birds or from the gods. No, it was I that came, Oedipus who knew nothing, and put a stop to her; I hit the mark by native wit, not by what I learned from birds. (Lloyd-Jones translation)
The practice of divining the future from birds–be it from their behaviors, their cries, or their innards–was, to Sophocles and his contemporaries, not superstitious hokum, but a practical science at which one could be skilled or unskilled, and it bodes ill for Oedipus that he is so quick to disregard it in favor of his own native wit. [See Note 2] By Shakespeare’s day, the practice had long been relegated to the realm of outdated hocus-pocus, but the Bard still saw some truth in it; in Macbeth, there is a recurring sense that, when the world is sick with some great wrong, its first symptoms manifest in the behavior of birds. When the “fatal bellman” the owl shrieks in the night, Lady Macbeth takes it as a sign that her husband is about his bloody business. The day after the murder of Duncan, as Ross converses with an Old Man about the strange things they’ve seen the previous night, “unnatural/Even as the deed that’s done”, the killing of a falcon by a mousing-owl–an omen straight out of Sophocles–is mentioned before the madness and cannibalism of Duncan’s horses, even though the latter would surely be more immediately noticeable and ghastly than the former.
These are the most obvious examples of birds as ill omens in Macbeth; yet even the more innocuous invocations of birds throughout the rest of the play continually turn our thoughts back to the ancient Greek understanding of fate and prophecy, and thereby remind us that, however savagely he may fight at Dunsinane, Macbeth’s fate is as fixed as that of Oedipus. The birds have already foretold all.
Note 1: The closest thing there is to this kind of fatalness in another Shakespearean tragedy is the several superstitious occurrences in Julius Caesar–both the soothsayer’s message of “Beware the ides of March” and the bestial portents such as the lack of a heart in an offering and the whelping of a lioness in the streets. Still, I will insist that these omens do not convey a sense of fatedness to the audience as strongly as the Weird Sisters in Macbeth by virtue of their being told to Caesar himself, not to Brutus, the play’s true protagonist, and by the fact that Shakespeare elsewhere uses dialogue to throw some doubt upon the idea of predestination: "Men at some times are masters of their fates:/The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,/But in ourselves, that we are underlings." -I.ii
Note 2: The Liddell-Scott Greek Lexicon identifies at least two separate verbs referring to bird-based divination, both of which are present in the quoted passages: Tiresias uses ορνϊθοσκοπέομαι, observe birds, interpret their flight and cries, while Oedipus uses οιωνίζομαι, take omens from the flight and cries of birds. The latter term comes from οιωνος, a large bird, bird of prey, such as a vulture or eagle, and so distinguished from a common bird, while the former comes from ορνις, which more generally refers to a bird, including birds of prey and domestic fowls. Birds of both kinds are present in Macbeth; there are οιωναι, such as the “falcon, towering in her pride of place”, as well as ορνες, like the Porter’s goose and cock. I therefore see little value in interrogating the kinds of birds invoked by Shakespeare, the specific cultural associations and significance of the owl, the raven, or the wren; rather, if we reduce them down to their barest existence as birds, animals of the class Aves, and consider them in an ancient Greek light, then things become a bit clearer.

Would it be prudent to write something in the beginning of your profile like "If you're burning haystacks there may be a needle in here". I'm pretty sure my profile is solid I'm just so sick of the response rate or lack there of. Every opening message I write is tailored to the individual if they have anything remotely interesting to spark conversation in their profile. How would the ladies in this subreddit interpret that?

Decant Reviews Part II: The Revenge! This batch came to me from the most excellent u/Hype_Moments, who thoughtfully reached out to me to inform me of his services after I expressed dismay at my inability to obtain samples directly from Montagne. The decants arrived promptly and packaged securely enough to withstand a nuclear blast! I also appreciate the attention to detail when it comes to labeling: matching Montagne's font and including the notes makes the sampling process feel very deluxe. Great experience, would order again!
On to the fragrances. Unless stated otherwise, I have not smelled the inspiration fragrances, so I am judging these on their own merit. For your reference, I typically prefer unisex fragrances, but I decided to roll the dice and included three feminine scents this time. I'm 29, and I work in both office and classroom environments. Let's get into it!
Eau Vanille: This one is not for everyone, but it's definitely for me. The rich, deep vanilla combined with the guiac wood and incense smells like going to mass at a grand Cathedral. Sophisticated, solemn, mysterious. I imagine that Notre Dame smells like this on Good Friday. Honestly, it kind of reminds me of my confirmation. I swear, the oil the bishop puts on your (greasy, 13-year-old) forehead smells a lot like this. That said, I love this because it reminds me of a positive moment in my faith formation, but it may evoke complex or negative reactions in others. The incense calms down after a couple of hours, which allows the vanilla to shine. Definitely not too sweet, and reads straightforwardly unisex to me. If you're a vanilla-lover looking for something a bit different with some oomph, this could be for you. Maybe not the best choice for the heat of summer, but I will be looking to purchase the full bottle come autumn. Would wear to my arch-rival's funeral.
Strawberry Milk: The wildcard of the bunch. I did not think I was going to like this because I thought it was going to be extremely juvenile and sickly sweet. I ordered it out of pure curiosity after hearing about the ungodly sums folks were shelling out to get their hands on a bottle. While it's definitely a sweet gourmand, it's not syrupy sweet. It's kind of fruity and powdery and just a bit herbal. There's something in here that comes off a little minty to my nose, which is baffling considering the notes. I'm not getting anything particularly strawberry-like, though. Maybe a hint of something lactonic, like malted milk powder, and a burnt-sugar note that could be caramel. Very wearable if you like sweet scents. Not obtrusive, kind of like if you gave a your-skin-but-better scent some moxie. Certainly not your typical celebrity scent. I could see a lot of women liking this. The longevity wasn't the best on this one, though: I think I got about four hours out of it. I'm not personally in love with it, but I'm glad I tried it.
Pink Rose Exclusif: Good Lord, y'all. This THE hot girl perfume. The most attractive woman you can think of probably wears this. It's a really beautiful, sweet, creamy, powdery rose wrapped in a veil of incense and supported by vanilla and woody notes in the base. There's some fruitiness in there too, particularly in the opening. Despite the powderiness and incense, it's quite edible smelling; like a fruity sponge cake that's also drenched in rose syrup, served immediately after the Confirmation service (callback!). I recognize this scent because I have encountered it in the wild on women wearing Delina Exclusif or its dupes, and it definitely... affects me, shall we say. This will turn heads for sure. It also lasts forever with excellent projection. I put on 3 sprays, wore it all day, went to sleep, and then my pillow and sheets smelled like Pink Rose Exclusif for DAYS, just from coming into contact with my arm. You absolutely do not need much of this. As much as I love it, I'm on the fence about whether to buy it, because I'm not sure how often I would actually wear it. It's a little more femme than my personal style usually calls for, imo. Plus, I'm not sure I want all the attention this would garner. That said, it's a 10/10 frag, I'd go for it today if I were single and ready to mingle. UPDATE: After writing this review, I got the opportunity to test the OG in-store, and I can confirm that this is a 1 to 1 dupe. I don't detect any difference whatsoever. Nice work, Montagne!
Pink Rose: This one humbled me. I had already tried the Exclusif version, and figured this was the more wearable, daytime version. I did my normal application (1 spray each on wrists & inner elbows, 2 sprays on the neck, 1 on the front of my shirt) and then headed to the office. When my coworker told me I smelled good from 6 feet away, I knew I had overdone it. I was smelling this all day long, from the 8:30 AM application until bed time. And not just little whiffs here and there, I'm talking constant presence in my olfactory organ. A little distracting, if I'm honest. Luckily, it's a beautiful fragrance. Florals are hit or miss for me, but I have a soft spot for rose. Whereas the Exclusif smells like rose dessert, this smells like a living rose growing fresh and vibrant in the garden. The litchi and rhubarb bring in a little sharpness, and there's a green accord in there that's really refreshing. This is rose done in a modern, interesting way, and I dig it. Feminine, but in a way that feels manageable for my typical presentation. Despite my initial blunder, I do think it's more every-day wearable than its sister as long as you are conservative with your application. Will buy for sure, and probably sooner rather than later.
Carnal Gray Extrait: In a word: exquisite. This smells like being wealthy, well-traveled, and the hottest person at the function. Charisma in a bottle. Effortlessly sexy without being provocative. It's well blended, but not linear. We start with a spicy, herbaceous opening; you get the cardamom right away, with some sweet green undertones. Then, a beautiful dry down. It becomes more powdery with a bit sweetness thanks to iris, tonka, and vanilla. The woodiness from cedar and sandalwood and earthiness from vetiver and patchouli keep it from going gourmand, and the result is something deep, dark, and complex. Perfect for special occasions where you want to dress to impress, this would be the ultimate companion to a well-tailored suit or a fancy cocktail dress. Apparently folks are somewhat divided on whether Gris Charnel Extrait leans feminine or masculine, but to me, CGE is perfectly unisex. Great performance; three sprays lasts me all day with moderate projection. This is my favorite fragrance from Montagne so far, and in the running for my favorite fragrance of all time. It's probably not the best choice for the hot, humid summer that's coming my way, but I don't even care, this is going to the top of the queue. 12/10, I am writing in my will that I want this sprayed on me before I go in the casket.
Brooklyn Jazz: At last, a fragrance that I can compare to its inspiration! I have smelled and fallen in love with Maison Margiela's Jazz Club, and was super excited to see how the wallet-friendly version from Montagne stacks up. Indeed, it's a very close match. We have a nice peppery opening that gives way to boozy, rum tobacco heaven. It's not in the notes, but this definitely comes off leathery to my nose. It smells like sitting in a leather armchair, sipping on dark liquor, and smoking... some kind of tobacco product. I want to say a pipe rather than a cigar, but neither is my vice of choice, so I can't be sure. Either way, old school badass. Think Ron Swanson in Duke Silver mode. If anything, there is perhaps more of an herbal accord here that I didn't notice in Jazz Club, but that could be due to the translation from EDT to EDP. Masculine leaning, but still suitable for ladies who appreciate smokey scents. Altogether, a lovely warm and cozy scent. Decent longevity, but the projection could be better (maybe needs maceration). I do like it, but I'm more motivated to get my hands on Carnal Gray Extrait and Eau Vanille, both of which are certainly different, but occupy a similar region of the fragrance family tree. I may pick it up after I make it through the summer.
Thanks for reading my reviews! And special thank-yous to both u/Hype-Moments and u/AyybrahamLmaocoln for supplying this community with decants and saving us from the anxiety of blind-buying. Let me know if you have any recommendations for my next decant order, particularly more masculine scents that are good for summer; I want my collection to have a little of everything. What do y'all think of Afternoon Dive and Torino 2021? That's all, over and out.

This is an expansion of a recent post and also incorporates some ideas from this theory (by u/ndependent-Design17). Throughout the series the reader is repeatedly reminded that "only death can pay for life" — that magic, especially powerful magic, comes at great cost.

"Only death can pay for life, my lord. A great gift requires a great sacrifice.”

Davos, ASOS
This phrase or variations of this phrase are repeated by Melisandre, Mirri, etc. at various points throughout the series. That which follows is a highly speculative theory on the nature of the cost of magic in the series. Specifically, that souls are central to the exercise of magic and can be used as magic currency.

1. establishing the concept of the soul

Oh, to be sure, there is much we do not understand. The years pass in their hundreds and their thousands, and what does any man see of life but a few summers, a few winters? We look at mountains and call them eternal, and so they seem… but in the course of time, mountains rise and fall, rivers change their courses, stars fall from the sky, and great cities sink beneath the sea. Even gods die, we think. Everything changes.

Bran, AGOT
What happens after we die? Is there some part of us that lives on or do we simply cease to exist. These are fundamental questions that are essentially unanswerable in life but not in ASOIAF. The reader is given a point-of-view account of death in the prologue of ADWD. After unsuccessfully attempting to steal the body of Thistle, a wildling spearwife, Varamyr dies and briefly becomes a disembodied consciousness:

The white world turned and fell away. For a moment it was as if he were inside the weirwood, gazing out through carved red eyes as a dying man twitched feebly on the ground and a madwoman danced blind and bloody underneath the moon, weeping red tears and ripping at her clothes. Then both were gone and he was rising, melting, his spirit borne on some cold wind. He was in the snow and in the clouds, he was a sparrow, a squirrel, an oak. A horned owl flew silently between his trees, hunting a hare; Varamyr was inside the owl, inside the hare, inside the trees. Deep below the frozen ground, earthworms burrowed blindly in the dark, and he was them as well. I am the wood, and everything that’s in it, he thought, exulting.

Prologue, ADWD
Afterward his "spirit," or soul, is eventually transferred into a body of wolf and he begins his second life. This event, and the process of skin-changing more generally, appears to involve projection or transfer of a soul from one body into another. The process of projecting or transferring souls to either animal vessels or the weirwoods is central to the magic of the Children of the Forest.

“Someone else was in the raven,” he told Lord Brynden, once he had returned to his own skin. “Some girl. I felt her.”
“A woman, of those who sing the song of earth,” his teacher said. “Long dead, yet a part of her remains, just as a part of you would remain in Summer if your boy’s flesh were to die upon the morrow. A shadow on the soul. She will not harm you.”
"Do all the birds have singers in them?"
“All,” Lord Brynden said.

Bran, ADWD
After death a "shadow on the soul" of the Singers remain in the crows. The soul of Orell is also described as living on in the body of his eagle after his death.
This process appears to take two forms: the soul can be temporarily projected from one body into another (e.g., as happens when Bran skin-changes into Hodor) or can be permanently transferred as is described in the separate examples above.
These transferred souls merge with their recipient, at least to some degree, and may decay over time:

"The wolf is part of you from that day on, and you’re part of him. Both of you will change.”
Other beasts were best left alone, the hunter had declared. Cats were vain and cruel, always ready to turn on you. Elk and deer were prey; wear their skins too long, and even the bravest man became a coward. Bears, boars, badgers, weasels … Haggon did not hold with such. “Some skins you never want to wear, boy. You won’t like what you’d become.” Birds were the worst, to hear him tell it. “Men were not meant to leave the earth. Spend too much time in the clouds and you never want to come back down again.
...
"They say you forget," Haggon had told him, a few weeks before his own death.
"When the man's flesh dies, his spirit lives on inside the beast, but every day his memory fades, and the beast becomes a little less a warg, a little more a wolf, until nothing of the man is left and only the beast remains."

Prologue, ADWD
Bran is provided with similar warnings about the danger of spending too much time in Summer's skin by Jojen.
The Bran that appears to Jon-Ghost in the vision in ACOK is also likely the lingering soul of a non-contemporary Bran, contained in the weirwoods and communicating from the future.

The weirwood had his brother’s face. Had his brother always had three eyes?
Not always, came the silent shout. Not before the crow.
He sniffed at the bark, smelled wolf and tree and boy, but behind that there were other scents, the rich brown smell of warm earth and the hard grey smell of stone and something else, something terrible. Death, he knew. He was smelling death. He cringed back, his hair bristling, and bared his fangs.
"Don’t be afraid, I like it in the dark. No one can see you, but you can see them. But first you have to open your eyes. See? Like this." And the tree reached down and touched him.

Jon, ACOK
There is more information about this in the Time Traveling Bran series. Briefly, the version of Bran in this vision does not appear to be contemporaneous because likes the dark, is able to open Jon's third eye, smells of death, etc. (This is well outside of the scope of this theory however.)

2. shadow magic requires souls

As above the reader is repeatedly reminded throughout the series that "only death can pay for life." What is specifically being sacrificed, though? Is the magic being fueled by the blood of the sacrificed or by something else?
To answer this let us examine one of the most concrete example of magic in the series, the use or exchange of Stannis Baratheon's "life-fire" in order for Melisandre to manifest the shadows used to kill Renly Baratheon and Courtney Penrose.

Shadows only live when given birth by light, and the king's fires burn so low I dare not draw off any more to make another son. It might well kill him."
Melisandre moved closer.
"With another man, though... a man whose flames still burn hot and high... if you truly wish to serve your king's cause, come to my chamber one night. I could give you pleasure such as you have never known, and with your life-fire I could make..."

Davos, ASOS
According to this explanation, the cost of producing these shadow appears to have been part of his "life-fire," or soul. The shadow is specifically described as having the shape Stannis supporting this. Whether this applies to other types of magic — specifically blood magic or fire magic — is less clear but shadow magic very much appears to require the use of souls.
This type of exchange is also directly referenced in the story of the Night's King provided by Old Nan:

A woman was his downfall; a woman glimpsed from atop the Wall, with skin as white as the moon and eyes like blue stars. Fearing nothing, he chased her and caught her and loved her, though her skin was cold as ice, and when he gave his seed to her he gave his soul as well. (Credit to u/DigLost5791 for this reference.)

Bran, ASOS
Stannis is described by Davos afterward as follows:

The look of him was a shock. He seemed ten years older than the man that Davos had left at Storm’s End when he set sail for the Blackwater and the battle that would be their undoing. The king’s close-cropped beard was spiderwebbed with grey hairs, and he had dropped two stone or more of weight. He had never been a fleshy man, but now the bones moved beneath his skin like spears, fighting to cut free. Even his crown seemed too large for his head. His eyes were blue pits lost in deep hollows, and the shape of a skull could be seen beneath his face.

Davos, ASOS
Asha later describes Stannis as appearing life a "man with one foot in the grave."

What little flesh he’d carried on his tall, spare frame at Deepwood Motte had melted away during the march. The shape of his skull could be seen under his skin, and his jaw was clenched so hard Asha feared his teeth might shatter.

Asha, ADWD
These descriptions seem appropriate for a character that has lost part of their "life-fire" or soul.
Throughout the series Stannis is forced to make a series of increasingly difficult decisions. The most significant of these decisions regards the fate of his nephew, Eric Storm. Melisandre repeatedly urges him to "give [her] the boy," presumably to be burned, but is rebuffed by Stannis.

“I know the cost! Last night, gazing into that hearth, I saw things in the flames as well. I saw a king, a crown of fire on his brows, burning… burning, Davos. His own crown consumed his flesh and turned him into ash. Do you think I need Melisandre to tell me what that means? Or you?” The king moved, so his shadow fell upon King’s Landing.
"…what is the life of one bastard boy against a kingdom?”
“Everything,” said Davos, softly.

Davos, ASOS
Is the life of this bastard boy worth the lives of millions that would die if the Others break through the Wall? Making a deal with the devil and literally selling his soul in pursuit of some greater good seems very appropriate for his character, thematically. The description of his flesh turning to ash in this vision is representative also supports this interpretation.

3. blood and fire magic

As opposed to the creation of the shadows described above, we are also provided an example of so-called blood magic in the leech burning ritual.

“Give me the boy, Your Grace. It is the surer way. The better way. Give me the boy and I shall wake the stone dragon.”
...
Melisandre bowed her head stiffly, and said, “As my king commands.” Reaching up her left sleeve with her right hand, she flung a handful of powder into the brazier. The coals roared. As pale flames writhed atop them, the red woman retrieved the silver dish and brought it to the king. Davos watched her lift the lid. Beneath were three large black leeches, fat with blood. The boy’s blood, Davos knew. A king’s blood. Stannis stretched forth a hand, and his fingers closed around one of the leeches.
“Say the name,” Melisandre commanded.

Davos, ASOS
Following this ritual all of the mentioned individuals do die but do so as the part of separate conspiracies (e.g., Robb Stark is betrayed by the Freys and Boltons, Joffrey Baratheon by Littlefinger and the Tyrells, etc.) which were already in place. It is left intentionally ambiguous by the author but it does not appear that the ritual meaningfully contributed to their deaths.
The creation of the shadows is said by Melisandre to have required part of Stannis' "life-fire" or soul. Could it be that the leech burning ritual was unsuccessful because blood alone is not sufficient as a sacrifice?
These forms of magic are frequently described in the community as "shadow magic" and "blood magic." These concepts — "fire and blood" and "flame and shadow" — are highly associated with one another in the text:

“Shadow?" Davos felt his flesh prickling. "A shadow is a thing of darkness."
”You are more ignorant than a child, ser knight. There are no shadows in the dark. Shadows are the servants of light, the children of fire. The brightest flame casts the darkest shadows."

Davos, ACOK
I speculate that these are different expressions of the same concept; that all of these fall under the general umbrella of fire magic and share common principles. "Fire consumes and in the end there's nothing left."

4. dancing shadows

The tent was aglow with the light of braziers within. Through the blood-spattered sandsilk, she glimpsed shadows moving.
Mirri Maz Duur was dancing, and not alone.
...
No, Dany wanted to say, no, not that, you mustn’t, but when she opened her mouth, a long wail of pain escaped, and the sweat broke over her skin. What was wrong with them, couldn’t they see?
Inside the tent the shapes were dancing, circling the brazier and the bloody bath, dark against the sandsilk, and some did not look human. She glimpsed the shadow of a great wolf, and another like a man wreathed in flames.
“The Lamb Woman knows the secrets of the birthing bed,” Irri said. “She said so, I heard her.”
“Yes,” Doreah agreed, “I heard her too.”
No, she shouted, or perhaps she only thought it, for no whisper of sound escaped her lips. She was being carried. Her eyes opened to gaze up at a flat dead sky, black and bleak and starless. Please, no. The sound of Mirri Maz Duur’s voice grew louder, until it filled the world. The shapes! She screamed. The dancers!
Ser Jorah carried her inside the tent.

Daenerys, AGOT
The introduction of shadow magic in the series is provided above with Mirri Max Duur. Following this ritual Drogo is described as a lifeless husk:

"He seems to like the warmth, Princess," Ser Jorah said. "His eyes follow the sun, though he does not see it. He can walk after a fashion. He will go where you lead him, but no farther. He will eat if you put food in his mouth, drink if you dribble water on his lips."

Daenerys, AGOT
It has previously been speculated that Mirri "reverse skin-changed" Drogo (e.g., "strength of the mount go into the rider, strength of the beast go into the man."). The description provided is less consistent with a horse soul inhabiting a human body than it is with the complete or near-complete absence of a soul. It appears more likely in retrospect that Mirri sacrificed part of Drogo's soul to summon the shadows and likely as a means to kill Daenerys' unborn child.

“The stallion who mounts the world will burn no cities now. His khalasar shall trample no nations into dust."

Daenerys, AGOT

5. reanimation

If "only death can pay for life" and souls are used as a form of magical currency how does one explain the reanimation or resurrection process?
There is a paucity of information on the reanimation of the dead in the series. The resurrection of Beric Dondarrion, for example, appears to be different in fundamental ways from that of the wights or Cold Hands. (We are potentially given a point-of-view account of this process if you accept that Victarion died in ADWD.)

“Thoros, how many times have you brought me back now?”
The red priest bowed his head. “It is R’hllor who brings you back, my lord. The Lord of Light. I am only his instrument.”
“How many times?” Lord Beric insisted.
“Six,” Thoros said reluctantly.
“And each time is harder. You have grown reckless, my lord. Is death so very sweet?”
Arya, ASOS

There is no immediately identifiable magical cost for these "kisses of life," at least at first glance. Thoros later tells us that he breathed part of his "flames" or soul into Beric:

“That first time, his lordship had a hole right through him and blood in his mouth, I knew there was no hope. So when his poor torn chest stopped moving, I gave him the good god's own kiss to send him on his way. I filled my mouth with fire and breathed the flames inside him, down his throat to lungs and heart and soul. The last kiss it is called, and many a time I saw the old priests bestow it on the Lord's servants as they died." (Credit to u/watchersontheweb for providing this quote in the initial thread.)

Arya, ASOS
Thoros is also described as appearing very different after performing this ritual several times in a way that is not entirely dissimilar to the changes in Stannis’ appearance referenced above.

“Here’s the wizard, skinny squirrel. You’ll get your answers now.”
He pointed toward the fire, where Tom Sevenstrings stood talking to a tall thin man with oddments of old armor buckled on over his ratty pink robes. That can’t be Thoros of Myr. Arya remembered the red priest as fat, with a smooth face and a shiny bald head. This man had a droopy face and a full head of shaggy grey hair.
...
“Thoros of Myr. You used to shave your head.”
“To betoken a humble heart, but in truth my heart was vain. Besides, I lost my razor in the woods.” The priest slapped his belly. “I am less than I was, but more. A year in the wild will melt the flesh off a man. Would that I could find a tailor to take in my skin. I might look young again, and pretty maids would shower me with kisses.”

Arya, ASOS
Thoros attributes these changes to his renewed devotion to the Red God and spending "a year in the wild" as above although he is not exactly forthcoming with Arya about the resurrection process. It is also likely that he does not entirely understand what specifically is being exchanged here.
Later he describes Beric giving the "kiss of life" to the corpse of Catelyn Stark:

“The Freys slashed her throat from ear to ear. When we found her by the river she was three days dead. Harwin begged me to give her the kiss of life, but it had been too long. I would not do it, so Lord Beric put his lips to hers instead, and the flame of life passed from him to her. And… she rose. May the Lord of Light protect us. She rose.”

Brienne, AFFC
Notably, this process produces a reanimated Catelyn (a.k.a. Lady Stoneheart). The soul of Beric, or at least whatever is left of his soul at this point in the series, is consumed in order to resurrect Catelyn and not transferred.

6. cold shadows (wild speculation)

The terms "white shadows," "pale shadows," and "cold shadows" are repeated used to describe the Others. The Others are also highly associated with ghosts — the spirits or souls of the dead bound to the earth. (The forrest in which they are introduced is literally called the Haunted Forrest.)

The Others made no sound.
Will saw movement from the corner of his eye. Pale shapes gliding through the wood. He turned his head, glimpsed a white shadow in the darkness. Then it was gone. Branches stirred gently in the wind, scratching at one another with wooden fingers. Will opened his mouth to call down a warning, and the words seemed to freeze in his throat. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps it had only been a bird, a reflection on the snow, some trick of the moonlight. What had he seen, after all?
“Will, where are you?” Ser Waymar called up. “Can you see anything?” He was turning in a slow circle, suddenly wary, his sword in hand. He must have felt them, as Will felt them. There was nothing to see. “Answer me! Why is it so cold?” It was cold.
Shivering, Will clung more tightly to his perch. His face pressed hard against the trunk of the sentinel. He could feel the sweet, sticky sap on his cheek. A shadow emerged from the dark of the wood. It stood in front of Royce. Tall, it was, and gaunt and hard as old bones, with flesh pale as milk. Its armor seemed to change color as it moved; here it was white as new-fallen snow, there black as shadow, everywhere dappled with the deep grey-green of the trees. The patterns ran like moonlight on water with every step it took. Will heard the breath go out of Ser Waymar Royce in a long hiss. ...
The Other slid forward on silent feet. In its hand was a longsword like none that Will had ever seen. No human metal had gone into the forging of that blade. It was alive with moonlight, translucent, a shard of crystal so thin that it seemed almost to vanish when seen edge-on. There was a faint blue shimmer to the thing, a ghost-light that played around its edges, and somehow Will knew it was sharper than any razor.

Prologue, AGOT
This is again highly speculative but it seems reasonable to consider that these cold shadows are not "ice demons" or "ice zombies" but are in fact ghosts, the spirits or souls of men that are bound to the earth through magic by the Children of the Forest. (The textual evidence of the creation of the Others by the Children has previously been discussed at length in the community in separate posts.) "Fire consumes, but cold preserves."
This would explain several of the unusual characteristics of the Others described by Tormund:

“Tormund,” Jon said, as they watched four old women pull a cartful of children toward the gate, “tell me of our foe. I would know all there is to know of the Others.”
The wildling rubbed his mouth. “Not here,” he mumbled, “not this side o’ your Wall.” The old man glanced uneasily toward the trees in their white mantles. “They’re never far, you know. They won’t come out by day, not when that old sun’s shining, but don’t think that means they went away. Shadows never go away. Might be you don’t see them, but they’re always clinging to your heels.”
...
Tormund turned back.
"You know nothing. You killed a dead man, aye, I heard. Mance killed a hundred. A man can fight the dead, but when their masters come, when the white mists rise up… how do you fight a mist, crow? Shadows with teeth … air so cold it hurts to breathe, like a knife inside your chest … you do not know, you cannot know … can your sword cut cold?"

Jon, ADWD
A reasonable interpretation of this information is that the Others are present during the day, at least in some capacity, and are only able to assume corporeal form at night.
The Others are also described as "going lightly upon the snow" which would also supports the idea that they are ghosts:

“The white walkers go lightly on the snow,” the ranger said. “You’ll find no prints to mark their passage.”

Samwell, ASOS

7. conclusions

This highly speculative theory attempts to reconcile several seemingly disparate concepts in the series related to magic, namely the actual nature of magical sacrifice ("only death can pay for life") and shadows or shadow magic. More specifically, I suggest that souls are the primary magical currency and can be consumed using fire magic to summon shadows, create glamours, etc. I also speculate that similar processes took place during Mirri Maz Duur's shadow-binding ritual in AGOT and during the repeated resurrections of Berric Dondarrion in ASOS. I further suggest that the Others are ghosts, the spirits or souls of the dead bound to the earth.
EDIT: edited several times to address formatting issues

This is an expansion of a recent post and also incorporates some ideas from this theory (by u/ndependent-Design17). Throughout the series the reader is repeatedly reminded that "only death can pay for life" — that magic, especially powerful magic, comes at great cost.

"Only death can pay for life, my lord. A great gift requires a great sacrifice.”

Davos, ASOS
This phrase or variations of this phrase are repeated by Melisandre, Mirri, etc. at various points throughout the series. That which follows is a highly speculative theory on the nature of the cost of magic in the series. Specifically, that souls are central to the exercise of magic and can be used as magic currency.

1. establishing the concept of the soul

Oh, to be sure, there is much we do not understand. The years pass in their hundreds and their thousands, and what does any man see of life but a few summers, a few winters? We look at mountains and call them eternal, and so they seem… but in the course of time, mountains rise and fall, rivers change their courses, stars fall from the sky, and great cities sink beneath the sea. Even gods die, we think. Everything changes.

Bran, AGOT
What happens after we die? Is there some part of us that lives on or do we simply cease to exist. These are fundamental questions that are essentially unanswerable in life but not in ASOIAF. The reader is given a point-of-view account of death in the prologue of ADWD. After unsuccessfully attempting to steal the body of Thistle, a wildling spearwife, Varamyr dies and briefly becomes a disembodied consciousness:

The white world turned and fell away. For a moment it was as if he were inside the weirwood, gazing out through carved red eyes as a dying man twitched feebly on the ground and a madwoman danced blind and bloody underneath the moon, weeping red tears and ripping at her clothes. Then both were gone and he was rising, melting, his spirit borne on some cold wind. He was in the snow and in the clouds, he was a sparrow, a squirrel, an oak. A horned owl flew silently between his trees, hunting a hare; Varamyr was inside the owl, inside the hare, inside the trees. Deep below the frozen ground, earthworms burrowed blindly in the dark, and he was them as well. I am the wood, and everything that’s in it, he thought, exulting.

Prologue, ADWD
Afterward his "spirit," or soul, is eventually transferred into a body of wolf and he begins his second life. This event, and the process of skin-changing more generally, appears to involve projection or transfer of a soul from one body into another. The process of projecting or transferring souls to either animal vessels or the weirwoods is central to the magic of the Children of the Forest.

“Someone else was in the raven,” he told Lord Brynden, once he had returned to his own skin. “Some girl. I felt her.”
“A woman, of those who sing the song of earth,” his teacher said. “Long dead, yet a part of her remains, just as a part of you would remain in Summer if your boy’s flesh were to die upon the morrow. A shadow on the soul. She will not harm you.”
"Do all the birds have singers in them?"
“All,” Lord Brynden said.

Bran, ADWD
After death a "shadow on the soul" of the Singers remain in the crows. The soul of Orell is also described as living on in the body of his eagle after his death.
This process appears to take two forms: the soul can be temporarily projected from one body into another (e.g., as happens when Bran skin-changes into Hodor) or can be permanently transferred as is described in the separate examples above.
These transferred souls merge with their recipient, at least to some degree, and may decay over time:

"The wolf is part of you from that day on, and you’re part of him. Both of you will change.”
Other beasts were best left alone, the hunter had declared. Cats were vain and cruel, always ready to turn on you. Elk and deer were prey; wear their skins too long, and even the bravest man became a coward. Bears, boars, badgers, weasels … Haggon did not hold with such. “Some skins you never want to wear, boy. You won’t like what you’d become.” Birds were the worst, to hear him tell it. “Men were not meant to leave the earth. Spend too much time in the clouds and you never want to come back down again.
...
"They say you forget," Haggon had told him, a few weeks before his own death.
"When the man's flesh dies, his spirit lives on inside the beast, but every day his memory fades, and the beast becomes a little less a warg, a little more a wolf, until nothing of the man is left and only the beast remains."

Prologue, ADWD
Bran is provided with similar warnings about the danger of spending too much time in Summer's skin by Jojen.
The Bran that appears to Jon-Ghost in the vision in ACOK is also likely the lingering soul of a non-contemporary Bran, contained in the weirwoods and communicating from the future.

The weirwood had his brother’s face. Had his brother always had three eyes?
Not always, came the silent shout. Not before the crow.
He sniffed at the bark, smelled wolf and tree and boy, but behind that there were other scents, the rich brown smell of warm earth and the hard grey smell of stone and something else, something terrible. Death, he knew. He was smelling death. He cringed back, his hair bristling, and bared his fangs.
"Don’t be afraid, I like it in the dark. No one can see you, but you can see them. But first you have to open your eyes. See? Like this." And the tree reached down and touched him.

Jon, ACOK
There is more information about this in the Time Traveling Bran series. Briefly, the version of Bran in this vision does not appear to be contemporaneous because likes the dark, is able to open Jon's third eye, smells of death, etc. (This is well outside of the scope of this theory however.)

2. shadow magic requires souls

As above the reader is repeatedly reminded throughout the series that "only death can pay for life." What is specifically being sacrificed, though? Is the magic being fueled by the blood of the sacrificed or by something else?
To answer this let us examine one of the most concrete example of magic in the series, the use or exchange of Stannis Baratheon's "life-fire" in order for Melisandre to manifest the shadows used to kill Renly Baratheon and Courtney Penrose.

Shadows only live when given birth by light, and the king's fires burn so low I dare not draw off any more to make another son. It might well kill him."
Melisandre moved closer.
"With another man, though... a man whose flames still burn hot and high... if you truly wish to serve your king's cause, come to my chamber one night. I could give you pleasure such as you have never known, and with your life-fire I could make..."

Davos, ASOS
According to this explanation, the cost of producing these shadow appears to have been part of his "life-fire," or soul. The shadow is specifically described as having the shape Stannis supporting this. Whether this applies to other types of magic — specifically blood magic or fire magic — is less clear but shadow magic very much appears to require the use of souls.
This type of exchange is also directly referenced in the story of the Night's King provided by Old Nan:

A woman was his downfall; a woman glimpsed from atop the Wall, with skin as white as the moon and eyes like blue stars. Fearing nothing, he chased her and caught her and loved her, though her skin was cold as ice, and when he gave his seed to her he gave his soul as well. (Credit to u/DigLost5791 for this reference.)

Bran, ASOS
Stannis is described by Davos afterward as follows:

The look of him was a shock. He seemed ten years older than the man that Davos had left at Storm’s End when he set sail for the Blackwater and the battle that would be their undoing. The king’s close-cropped beard was spiderwebbed with grey hairs, and he had dropped two stone or more of weight. He had never been a fleshy man, but now the bones moved beneath his skin like spears, fighting to cut free. Even his crown seemed too large for his head. His eyes were blue pits lost in deep hollows, and the shape of a skull could be seen beneath his face.

Davos, ASOS
Asha later describes Stannis as appearing life a "man with one foot in the grave."

What little flesh he’d carried on his tall, spare frame at Deepwood Motte had melted away during the march. The shape of his skull could be seen under his skin, and his jaw was clenched so hard Asha feared his teeth might shatter.

Asha, ADWD
These descriptions seem appropriate for a character that has lost part of their "life-fire" or soul.
Throughout the series Stannis is forced to make a series of increasingly difficult decisions. The most significant of these decisions regards the fate of his nephew, Eric Storm. Melisandre repeatedly urges him to "give [her] the boy," presumably to be burned, but is rebuffed by Stannis.

“I know the cost! Last night, gazing into that hearth, I saw things in the flames as well. I saw a king, a crown of fire on his brows, burning… burning, Davos. His own crown consumed his flesh and turned him into ash. Do you think I need Melisandre to tell me what that means? Or you?” The king moved, so his shadow fell upon King’s Landing.
"…what is the life of one bastard boy against a kingdom?”
“Everything,” said Davos, softly.

Davos, ASOS
Is the life of this bastard boy worth the lives of millions that would die if the Others break through the Wall? Making a deal with the devil and literally selling his soul in pursuit of some greater good seems very appropriate for his character, thematically. The description of his flesh turning to ash in this vision is representative also supports this interpretation.

3. blood and fire magic

As opposed to the creation of the shadows described above, we are also provided an example of so-called blood magic in the leech burning ritual.

“Give me the boy, Your Grace. It is the surer way. The better way. Give me the boy and I shall wake the stone dragon.”
...
Melisandre bowed her head stiffly, and said, “As my king commands.” Reaching up her left sleeve with her right hand, she flung a handful of powder into the brazier. The coals roared. As pale flames writhed atop them, the red woman retrieved the silver dish and brought it to the king. Davos watched her lift the lid. Beneath were three large black leeches, fat with blood. The boy’s blood, Davos knew. A king’s blood. Stannis stretched forth a hand, and his fingers closed around one of the leeches.
“Say the name,” Melisandre commanded.

Davos, ASOS
Following this ritual all of the mentioned individuals do die but do so as the part of separate conspiracies (e.g., Robb Stark is betrayed by the Freys and Boltons, Joffrey Baratheon by Littlefinger and the Tyrells, etc.) which were already in place. It is left intentionally ambiguous by the author but it does not appear that the ritual meaningfully contributed to their deaths.
The creation of the shadows is said by Melisandre to have required part of Stannis' "life-fire" or soul. Could it be that the leech burning ritual was unsuccessful because blood alone is not sufficient as a sacrifice?
These forms of magic are frequently described in the community as "shadow magic" and "blood magic." These concepts — "fire and blood" and "flame and shadow" — are highly associated with one another in the text:

“Shadow?" Davos felt his flesh prickling. "A shadow is a thing of darkness."
”You are more ignorant than a child, ser knight. There are no shadows in the dark. Shadows are the servants of light, the children of fire. The brightest flame casts the darkest shadows."

Davos, ACOK
I speculate that these are different expressions of the same concept; that all of these fall under the general umbrella of fire magic and share common principles. "Fire consumes and in the end there's nothing left."

4. dancing shadows

The tent was aglow with the light of braziers within. Through the blood-spattered sandsilk, she glimpsed shadows moving.
Mirri Maz Duur was dancing, and not alone.
...
No, Dany wanted to say, no, not that, you mustn’t, but when she opened her mouth, a long wail of pain escaped, and the sweat broke over her skin. What was wrong with them, couldn’t they see?
Inside the tent the shapes were dancing, circling the brazier and the bloody bath, dark against the sandsilk, and some did not look human. She glimpsed the shadow of a great wolf, and another like a man wreathed in flames.
“The Lamb Woman knows the secrets of the birthing bed,” Irri said. “She said so, I heard her.”
“Yes,” Doreah agreed, “I heard her too.”
No, she shouted, or perhaps she only thought it, for no whisper of sound escaped her lips. She was being carried. Her eyes opened to gaze up at a flat dead sky, black and bleak and starless. Please, no. The sound of Mirri Maz Duur’s voice grew louder, until it filled the world. The shapes! She screamed. The dancers!
Ser Jorah carried her inside the tent.

Daenerys, AGOT
The introduction of shadow magic in the series is provided above with Mirri Max Duur. Following this ritual Drogo is described as a lifeless husk:

"He seems to like the warmth, Princess," Ser Jorah said. "His eyes follow the sun, though he does not see it. He can walk after a fashion. He will go where you lead him, but no farther. He will eat if you put food in his mouth, drink if you dribble water on his lips."

Daenerys, AGOT
It has previously been speculated that Mirri "reverse skin-changed" Drogo (e.g., "strength of the mount go into the rider, strength of the beast go into the man."). The description provided is less consistent with a horse soul inhabiting a human body than it is with the complete or near-complete absence of a soul. It appears more likely in retrospect that Mirri sacrificed part of Drogo's soul to summon the shadows and likely as a means to kill Daenerys' unborn child.

“The stallion who mounts the world will burn no cities now. His khalasar shall trample no nations into dust."

Daenerys, AGOT

5. reanimation

If "only death can pay for life" and souls are used as a form of magical currency how does one explain the reanimation or resurrection process?
There is a paucity of information on the reanimation of the dead in the series. The resurrection of Beric Dondarrion, for example, appears to be different in fundamental ways from that of the wights or Cold Hands. (We are potentially given a point-of-view account of this process if you accept that Victarion died in ADWD.)

“Thoros, how many times have you brought me back now?”
The red priest bowed his head. “It is R’hllor who brings you back, my lord. The Lord of Light. I am only his instrument.”
“How many times?” Lord Beric insisted.
“Six,” Thoros said reluctantly.
“And each time is harder. You have grown reckless, my lord. Is death so very sweet?”
Arya, ASOS

There is no immediately identifiable magical cost for these "kisses of life," at least at first glance. Thoros later tells us that he breathed part of his "flames" or soul into Beric:

“That first time, his lordship had a hole right through him and blood in his mouth, I knew there was no hope. So when his poor torn chest stopped moving, I gave him the good god's own kiss to send him on his way. I filled my mouth with fire and breathed the flames inside him, down his throat to lungs and heart and soul. The last kiss it is called, and many a time I saw the old priests bestow it on the Lord's servants as they died." (Credit to u/watchersontheweb for providing this quote in the initial thread.)

Arya, ASOS
Thoros is also described as appearing very different after performing this ritual several times in a way that is not entirely dissimilar to the changes in Stannis’ appearance referenced above.

“Here’s the wizard, skinny squirrel. You’ll get your answers now.”
He pointed toward the fire, where Tom Sevenstrings stood talking to a tall thin man with oddments of old armor buckled on over his ratty pink robes. That can’t be Thoros of Myr. Arya remembered the red priest as fat, with a smooth face and a shiny bald head. This man had a droopy face and a full head of shaggy grey hair.
...
“Thoros of Myr. You used to shave your head.”
“To betoken a humble heart, but in truth my heart was vain. Besides, I lost my razor in the woods.” The priest slapped his belly. “I am less than I was, but more. A year in the wild will melt the flesh off a man. Would that I could find a tailor to take in my skin. I might look young again, and pretty maids would shower me with kisses.”

Arya, ASOS
Thoros attributes these changes to his renewed devotion to the Red God and spending "a year in the wild" as above although he is not exactly forthcoming with Arya about the resurrection process. It is also likely that he does not entirely understand what specifically is being exchanged here.
Later he describes Beric giving the "kiss of life" to the corpse of Catelyn Stark:

“The Freys slashed her throat from ear to ear. When we found her by the river she was three days dead. Harwin begged me to give her the kiss of life, but it had been too long. I would not do it, so Lord Beric put his lips to hers instead, and the flame of life passed from him to her. And… she rose. May the Lord of Light protect us. She rose.”

Brienne, AFFC
Notably, this process produces a reanimated Catelyn (a.k.a. Lady Stoneheart). The soul of Beric, or at least whatever is left of his soul at this point in the series, is consumed in order to resurrect Catelyn and not transferred.

6. cold shadows (wild speculation)

The terms "white shadows," "pale shadows," and "cold shadows" are repeated used to describe the Others. The Others are also highly associated with ghosts — the spirits or souls of the dead bound to the earth. (The forrest in which they are introduced is literally called the Haunted Forrest.)

The Others made no sound.
Will saw movement from the corner of his eye. Pale shapes gliding through the wood. He turned his head, glimpsed a white shadow in the darkness. Then it was gone. Branches stirred gently in the wind, scratching at one another with wooden fingers. Will opened his mouth to call down a warning, and the words seemed to freeze in his throat. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps it had only been a bird, a reflection on the snow, some trick of the moonlight. What had he seen, after all?
“Will, where are you?” Ser Waymar called up. “Can you see anything?” He was turning in a slow circle, suddenly wary, his sword in hand. He must have felt them, as Will felt them. There was nothing to see. “Answer me! Why is it so cold?” It was cold.
Shivering, Will clung more tightly to his perch. His face pressed hard against the trunk of the sentinel. He could feel the sweet, sticky sap on his cheek. A shadow emerged from the dark of the wood. It stood in front of Royce. Tall, it was, and gaunt and hard as old bones, with flesh pale as milk. Its armor seemed to change color as it moved; here it was white as new-fallen snow, there black as shadow, everywhere dappled with the deep grey-green of the trees. The patterns ran like moonlight on water with every step it took. Will heard the breath go out of Ser Waymar Royce in a long hiss. ...
The Other slid forward on silent feet. In its hand was a longsword like none that Will had ever seen. No human metal had gone into the forging of that blade. It was alive with moonlight, translucent, a shard of crystal so thin that it seemed almost to vanish when seen edge-on. There was a faint blue shimmer to the thing, a ghost-light that played around its edges, and somehow Will knew it was sharper than any razor.

Prologue, AGOT
This is again highly speculative but it seems reasonable to consider that these cold shadows are not "ice demons" or "ice zombies" but are in fact ghosts, the spirits or souls of men that are bound to the earth through magic by the Children of the Forest. (The textual evidence of the creation of the Others by the Children is linked in a separate post here.) "Fire consumes, but cold preserves."
This would explain several of the unusual characteristics of the Others described by Tormund:

“Tormund,” Jon said, as they watched four old women pull a cartful of children toward the gate, “tell me of our foe. I would know all there is to know of the Others.”
The wildling rubbed his mouth. “Not here,” he mumbled, “not this side o’ your Wall.” The old man glanced uneasily toward the trees in their white mantles. “They’re never far, you know. They won’t come out by day, not when that old sun’s shining, but don’t think that means they went away. Shadows never go away. Might be you don’t see them, but they’re always clinging to your heels.”
...
Tormund turned back.
"You know nothing. You killed a dead man, aye, I heard. Mance killed a hundred. A man can fight the dead, but when their masters come, when the white mists rise up… how do you fight a mist, crow? Shadows with teeth … air so cold it hurts to breathe, like a knife inside your chest … you do not know, you cannot know … can your sword cut cold?"

Jon, ADWD
A reasonable interpretation of this information is that the Others are present during the day, at least in some capacity, and are only able to assume corporeal form at night.
The Others are also described as "going lightly upon the snow" which would also supports the idea that they are ghosts:

“The white walkers go lightly on the snow,” the ranger said. “You’ll find no prints to mark their passage.”

Samwell, ASOS

7. conclusions

This highly speculative theory attempts to reconcile several seemingly disparate concepts in the series related to magic, namely the actual nature of magical sacrifice ("only death can pay for life") and shadows or shadow magic. More specifically, I suggest that souls are the primary magical currency and can be consumed using fire magic to summon shadows, create glamours, etc. I also speculate that similar processes took place during Mirri Maz Duur's shadow-binding ritual in AGOT and during the repeated resurrections of Berric Dondarrion in ASOS. I further suggest that the Others are ghosts, the spirits or souls of the dead bound to the earth.
EDIT: edited several times to address formatting issues

its gonna be a long trauma dump.
im 19f, appeared in 12th this year, this would be my first drop. vaise to iss sun pe lurker rehti thi, aaj laga maybe kuch bol hi du to atleast relief rahega kisko dhang se bataya to. vaise to life meri bekar nhi hai overall dekha jaye to. yaha pe logo ka padho bc achhi lagne lagti hai life, and phir agle din vahi rr.
i was five almost, jb mere nana ne pehli baar mujhe touch kiya tha. mummy papa ka office rehta tha and bhaiya ka school to akele chhodne ki jagah nana ko bula lete the vo log ki mera dhyaan rakhe. achha dhyan rakhe the (apna lolzzz). now that i think about the movements and the way he'd shake afterwards, pyare nanaji was most probably cumming in his dhoti holding his five year old granddaughter on his thigh. (i mean, ladke shayad better jaane, kabhi kisi se detail mein puchha nhi iss baare mein. after it had got some action and y'all are ejaculating, do you guys like, freeze for a bit a breathe hard? agar nhi to im sorry for the wrong allegations). anyways that happened for a while. uske baad ka mujhe kuch yaad nhi. tbh ye bhi nhi yaad tha, until 3-4 saal pehle jb i read a similar scene in a book and ye yaad aaya phir shock mein chali gayi. had two beautiful frnds jinko bataya iss baare mein and they tried to help me out as best as they could. andar se ye bhi lagta tha ki mummy ko kabhi pata bhi chala to nahi manengi, isiliye parents se thoda grudge rehta tha and ladti jhagadati rehti thi.
fast forward to present, mai apne best friend ke saath relationship mein aa gayi and slowly but surely, he made a great impact on my relationship with my family. like uski uske parents ke saath achhe relations hain and ladka bhi sahi hai (haa pyar krti hu usse, mar jaungi ek din) to convince kr liya mujhe ki mere parents bhi pasand krte hain mujhe. and tb se mere relations meri family ke saath significantly improve hue. i even started to trust them.
to kya hai na, mummy and nana ki jamti nhi hai (he's neither a good husband nor a good father), isiliye mummy unse baat nhi krti. ek din recently mummy unhi ke baare mein upset thi and maine mummy se bol diya ki "uss aadmi se to mujhe nafrat hai. royi hu bestfriend ko batate hue" and mummy was like mujhe batao but mana kar di ki abhi nhi.
agle din she came to me and said ki unhe raat mein neend nhi aa rahi thi ye sochte hue ki aisa unhone kya kar diya ki I don't trust her but trust my frnds? phir bohot bolne pe mai unhe puri baat bata di (utni detail mein nhi obviously) and she was very supportive. boli ki "maa baap important hote hain par bachcho se zyada nhi. mai to vaise bhi unhe ghar na bulati but ab to sawal hi nhi uthata. shakal nhi dekhungi unki". and mai apne room mein aake rone lagi ki maine apni maa ko galat samjha ki vo mujhpe yakeen nhi karengi.
then agle din, i think jb mai ghar pe nhi thi tb mummy bhaiya ko ye baat batayi and he told her abt how once i confessed to him i was a lesbian (bisexual boli thi but lauda hai), and pata nhi kaise, mummy ko convince kr doya ki im making this whole story up for sympathy and to seem cool.
mummy aayi and mujhse boli ki "tum jo batayi ho, vo sach mein hua hai ya jo tum ghatiya books padhti ho, uski vajah se dimag mein baitha li ho ki mere saath bhi kuch galat hua hai?" and phir asked me abt that lesbian wala and told me ki inhi sab vajah se my face has lost its innocence and mai kuch nahi kar paayi hu. kaise i didn't deserve the marks i got in boards and sabka entrance exam tha but sab ek event mein aa rahe the but tumne kuch padha nhi tha isiliye nhi aayi (true but jisko neet dena hota vo aise bhi na aata). and how she feels ashamed and unsafe to go out with me varna i would wander off with "bhaiya log". that other girls of my age look smart and innocent and good even of they're fat. and gori ladkiyo ka chehra nhi pink hai, but you have yellowish tone and you never look smart, tumhare andar vo cheez hi nhi. she ended her speech with, "tumhari vajah se maine apne baap ko galat samjha. agar tum jhoote ilzam laga rahi ho to uska anjam dikhega." and then very lightly said, as if she didn't believe it, "aur agar mere baap ne kuch kiya hoga to bhagwan batayenge."
since that day, i haven't been able to look at my family the same way. the love, trust and respect i had for them seems gone. uss din ke baad mummy achhe se baa ki but bhul nhi paa rahi unn words ko. isse pehle bhi aisa bohot kuch boli hain vo jo bura laga tha but ye Dil tod diya. i can't believe my first heartbreak is from my mother itself.
isse pehle bhi she'd questioned my character. mai maanti hu, mai chutiye bachchi thi. nhi samjhti thi kuch. school bus mein achhe bhaiya log mile the to sabko achha samajhti thi and apne age ke logo se ghul mil nhi paati thi. isiliye almost got tricked by a senior jo uss time 11th mein the (i was in 6th, koi dost nhi tha to attention ki bhukhi rehti thi). uske liye mummy branded me as "characterless". I WAS IN SIXTH, NHI PATA THA MUJHE KUCH. phir ek baar humlog kahi gaye the and mummy dusri seat pe chali gayi mujhko leke jbki meri dost pichhe ki seat pe thi. i tried going to her to uss time to mummy bas gusse se dekhi but ghar aake boli ki how im such a bad daughter, achhe ghaf ki ladkiya sirf apne mummy papa ke paas rehti hain but tumko to matakna rehta hai. tumhare jaisi ladkiyo ko characterless rehte hain, kisi ki nhi hoti hain. (this was in class 9th).
ho sakta hai mai apna side leke dekh rahi hu isiliye mai khud ko sahi samajh rahi. but galti kya ki maine ye to koi achhe se explain karo???
recent ye nana wala batane ke baad to bas yahi manati hu roz bhagwan se ki maar daale mujhe. sach nata rahi, jb dekhega na koi sirf meri mummy papa aur bhaiya ko saath mein, to itne perfect lagte hain. and mai manhoos ki yarah aa jaati hu beech mein. (mumma thinks ki mera chehra normal rehne pe mahoos lagta hai, i should be smiling har samay varna apni life barbaad ke dungi aisi shakal bana ke).
marne ka ya relapse krne ka (i used to self harm) roz mann krta hai, but apni best friend aur apne bf ke baare mein sochke ruk jaati hu. sach mein doni pagal pyaar krte hain mujhse. bestfriend ki life already laudi ho rakhi hai, aur nhi pareshan krna, bf ki life mein pehle hi bohot trauma the, ab badhane ka mann nhi. i promised him I'd helo him heal.
ab 15 aur 16 ko cuet hai but padha nhi hai kuch and pata nhi kaise niklega. nikalka bhi zaruri hai varna home life aur fucked up ho jaayegi plus ghar se niklungi to insabme dimag nhi lagega.
samajh nhi aa raha kaise padhu ab, aakhiri din bacha hai, sab kuch padha hai but revise krna hai. idk bhai, higheay sach mein sundar lagne laga hai (srsly)
edit: aaj matashree ko therapy de rahi thi. and pata chala she has shit communication skills and she meant to say ki hopefully ye sab mera vehem hai but boldi kuch aur. and batayi mumma bhaiya bhi bola ho sakta hai vehem ho but he cried when he first heard it. matashree se phir ladi khub ki baat nhi krne aata achhe se ro rahi hu kb se. tumlogo ke comments+ mummy se baat krke jo relief Mila hai na, thankyou yaar. literally verge of suicide se happy kr diye ho.

A few days ago, I had to change lines at INA for the Pink Line. I climbed the stairs and saw many people standing there near the stairs, so I waited in line. Soon, a metro came and everyone got in.
There was a group of two boys and two girls they were chatting about random shit. So, I went and stood by the opposite door. They got off at the next station because they had boarded the wrong metro, they wanted to go to the other side.
Now, I thought let me sit down because the seats are vacant and I got busy on my mobile. At the next station, a lady came in and tapped my shoulder, saying "Bhaiya, aap galat coach mein baithe gaye hai” I was like, Huh? How? Then, I looked to my right and then looked left I realised it was the ladies coach. I said, "Sorry, sorry," and moved to the next coach.
When I climbed the stairs, I didn’t realize it was the ladies coach. I just saw the group and thought ki sahi hoga and went in, agli baar dekh ka board karunga.
Tldr: entered the ladies coach by mistake cause i followed a group, later a lady tapped my shoulder to inform that i was in the wrong coach.

Had no idea for the title 😂
Small context: Back in February of this year, i partook in a streamer's raid planification for Blackfathom Depths (BFD) in WoW Seasons of Discovery. I was maining a Hunter with Tailoring and skinning and, well, i was feeling quite usefull since i was providing bags for the whole guild and also providing the leather for leatherworkers and the 2 other tailors.
Basicly, i'm looking for people's opinion on what are the most team/guild usefull gathering/crafting jobs that most likely would give me the same "usefullness" vibe i had in WoW SoD.
From my understanding, these would be the most usefull jobs:

• Alchemy
• Culinarian
• Miner
• Botanist
• Fishing (added it since i forgot fish is food too >.>)

Obviously, alchemist provides potions for raids, which is a must to avoid spending thousands in the market in any MMO that has them. Culinarian makes food that gives several buffs, which is also pretty usefull. Miner because jobs that requires ores won't need to go gather and as such, can just keep producing stuffs. While, from my understanding, botanist is like an "all around" item providing for Alchemists and culinarians i think?
I really wanted people opinions on this since i feel like all the other crafting jobs are more like "Once you get the best craftable item from it, there's nothing else that you get from it." Like your typical blacksmith crafts you the best weapon/armour available in game (until the next raid set gets added), then what? I think they can repair for "free"? I've also seen the materia thing, but i don't have any idea how prominant that system is since all that political yapping back and forth in pre Heaven's Ward got me off 2 years ago ( i stopped a few MSQ after fighting Lady Iceheart who sincerely has the most satisfying sfx i've ever got to hear in a video game. That freezing AoE spell she does is just amazing ).
So yeah. Thanks in advance for y'all opinions on the matter.
Also, yes i know, i can just pick them all and level them all up, but with a full time job and other hobbies, i can't allow too much time on leveling several jobs at the same time (and i also want to keep something to do on the side for whenever i'll hit that hard cap of "no more content to do").

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Cherished members of our Yemeni community,
Today, as we gather in unity, we stand on the threshold of a transformative moment—a day destined to be marked by our collective action and shared vision. We are here to make history, to forge a path that our future generations will look back on with pride, knowing that we came together to uplift and empower one another.
Yemen, a land of unparalleled beauty, is home to a people whose virtues shine as brightly as the stars in our skies. The Yemeni spirit, imbued with humility, courage, intelligence, and kindness-are not mere words; they are the essence of who we are, the guiding stars that illuminate our path through the darkest of nights. Our resilience, akin to the ancient walls of Shibam, stands tall and proud as a testament to our enduring strength and wisdom. It is not merely a historical relic; rather, it embodies the indomitable spirit of our people—a living beacon of hope that shines brightly even in the face of adversity.
But today, as we stand on the cusp of a new era, we are not content to merely survive; we are determined to thrive. Today, we stand not just as witnesses to history, but as architects of a brighter tomorrow, fueled by our unwavering resolve and unyielding spirit. Today, we stand ready to embark on a journey of transformation, to harness the collective power of our community and unleash a wave of change that will reverberate across oceans and continents, leaving a legacy of hope and possibility in its wake.
This same spirit of resilience and unity flows across the oceans to every city across this beautiful nation, where each Yemeni family and business has the opportunity to contribute. By setting aside a portion of our earnings, scaled according to our income and business profits, we are creating a robust community fund. This fund serves as a reservoir of resources dedicated to the growth and support of our own people, ensuring that the beauty and virtues of Yemen are celebrated and sustained for generations to come.
Educational Initiatives:
Our fund will prioritize education, starting with scholarships and resources for our girls in fields like Medical Care and Technology. Picture this humble scene: with every scholarship awarded, we're not just bestowing a simple opportunity; we're gifting a chance at greatness, a humble seed with the potential to blossom into a mighty oak of knowledge and achievement. We're not just investing in classrooms; we're investing in dreams—dreams of becoming healers, innovators, and leaders who will quietly revolutionize the world.
And let me tell you, when you empower a woman, you're not just lighting a single candle; you're igniting a wildfire of change that spreads far and wide. You're giving her the tools to navigate a world filled with challenges and obstacles, to carve out her own path, and to leave a mark that will endure for generations to come. You're unleashing a force of nature—a force so gentle yet so unstoppable that it can transform lives, uplift communities, and heal a wounded world. So let's not just talk about education; let's talk about empowerment. Let's talk about inspiration. Let's talk about the quiet strength of a single girl to change the world. And let's make sure that every girl, every woman, every Yemeni has the chance to shine their light and illuminate the darkness.
Support for New Families:
For our brothers and sisters arriving from Yemen, the transition can be an overwhelming journey into the unknown. In their eyes, we see reflections of our own stories—of leaving behind familiar shores in pursuit of hope and opportunity. Our fund extends a welcoming hand, offering not just material aid but a lifeline of compassion, understanding, and solidarity.
Imagine the scene: as these families step onto new soil, they are enveloped in warmth and reassurance, knowing that they are not alone in this unfamiliar terrain. Our support goes beyond the basics of food, clothing, and shelter; it speaks to the heart of what it means to belong, to be embraced by a community that sees their arrival not as a burden, but as a blessing.
In providing this initial assistance, we do more than ensure their survival; we affirm their dignity and humanity. We recognize that every individual, regardless of circumstance, deserves to be treated with respect and kindness. And by easing their transition, we pave the way for a smoother integration into their new community—a community that welcomes them not as strangers, but as cherished members of our extended family.
Youth Engagement and Vocational Training:
We also address the challenge of our youth who may find themselves lost or idle. By funding our own trade schools, we offer them a constructive path forward, away from the streets and into careers that will benefit them and our community. These schools will teach trades that are in demand, providing both a livelihood and a purpose.
Instead of languishing in the shadows, our young people step boldly into the light, armed with the knowledge and skills they need to succeed. Our trade schools offer not just an education, but a lifeline—a lifeline that pulls them away from the dangers of the streets and into the embrace of opportunity.
These schools are more than just classrooms; they are incubators of innovation, laboratories of learning, and workshops of wisdom. Here, our youth learn trades that are not just in demand, but inextricably linked to the heartbeat of our community. They discover talents they never knew they possessed, passions they never knew they harbored, and dreams they never dared to dream.
And as they graduate from these schools, they do more than just earn a certificate; they earn a ticket to a brighter future, a future filled with promise and possibility. They become not just skilled workers, but ambassadors of change, catalysts of progress, and champions of our collective destiny.
So let us not lament the challenges our youth face; let us celebrate the opportunities that await them. Let us invest in their potential, nurture their talents, and empower them to build a world that is brighter, stronger, and more just. For in their hands lies the power to shape the future, to inspire greatness, and to transform our world for the better.
Business Development:
As we look to the horizon of opportunity, our fund emerges as a catalyst for economic empowerment, a force that not only creates jobs but also cultivates a culture of entrepreneurship and innovation within our community.
From the seeds of our fund, businesses bloom like wildflowers in a desert oasis, each one a testament to the ingenuity and resilience of our people. From transportation and logistics companies to small-scale enterprises, these businesses become more than just sources of income; they become engines of growth, driving our community towards a future filled with promise and prosperity.
But our vision doesn't end there. Unlike conventional businesses driven solely by profit, the profits from these ventures flow back into our fund, creating a self-sustaining cycle of growth and impact. Every dollar earned is not just a measure of success; it's a tool for transformation—a tool that empowers us to do more, to reach further, and to make a difference in the lives of those around us.
And as these businesses thrive, so too does our community. Jobs are created, livelihoods are secured, and dreams are realized. But more than that, a sense of pride swells within us—a pride born not just from our individual achievements but from our collective triumphs. For in building these businesses, we are not just shaping our own destinies; we are shaping the destiny of our community, our nation, and our world.
So let us seize this moment, let us harness the power of entrepreneurship, and let us build a future where every Yemeni can thrive. Together, we can turn dreams into reality, challenges into opportunities, and obstacles into stepping stones towards a brighter tomorrow. For in the crucible of our collective ambition lies the promise of a better future for us all.
Building Our Own Educational Institutions:
We will also use our resources to build our own grammar schools and high schools. This will ensure our children are educated in environments that respect and incorporate our values, protecting them from external negative influences and providing them with a solid, value-based education.
These institutions are more than just buildings; they are bastions of our identity, fortresses of our culture, and guardians of our heritage. Here, our children learn not just facts and figures, but the timeless wisdom passed down through generations—a wisdom that guides them, shapes them, and empowers them to become the leaders of tomorrow.
But our vision extends beyond mere education. These schools are not just places of learning; they are communities—a tapestry of diversity, unity, and inclusivity, where every child is valued, every voice is heard, and every dream is nurtured.
And as our children graduate from these institutions, they do more than just earn a diploma; they emerge as ambassadors of our values, torchbearers of our traditions, and beacons of hope in a world hungry for guidance and inspiration.
So let us not just build schools; let us build futures. Let us invest in the minds and hearts of our children, empowering them to become the architects of their own destinies and the stewards of our collective legacy. For in the halls of our own educational institutions lies the promise of a brighter tomorrow—a tomorrow shaped by the dreams and aspirations of our youth.
Support for the Vulnerable:
Our fund will provide for those in acute need—widows, children, the sick, and even in bereavement. These funds will offer more than just financial aid; they provide a network of support, ensuring no one in our community has to endure hardship alone.
But our support goes beyond mere financial aid. It is a lifeline—a lifeline that extends beyond the material realm, offering a network of support, guidance, and companionship. Whether it's a listening ear, a shoulder to lean on, or a helping hand in times of need, our fund ensures that no one in our community has to endure hardship alone.
And as we reach out to lift others up, we discover something profound—that in giving, we receive; that in comforting, we are comforted; and that in supporting others, we find strength and purpose. For in the crucible of compassion lies the power to transform lives, heal wounds, and build bridges of understanding and empathy.
So let us extend our hands in solidarity, let us open our hearts in compassion, and let us stand together as a community united in our commitment to care for those most in need. For in lifting others up, we lift ourselves, and in supporting each other, we create a world where no one is left behind.
Investment and Growth:
Lastly, the fund will be an investment in our future. Managed by third parties to ensure fairness and transparency, the returns will be reinvested, creating a self-sustaining cycle of growth and benefit for our community.
As we look to the horizon of possibility, our fund emerges not just as a source of stability, but as a catalyst for transformation—a force that not only secures our present but also lays the foundation for a future filled with promise and prosperity.
Imagine this: with every dollar invested, our fund becomes a seed planted in fertile soil, a seed that germinates, grows, and blossoms into a tree of abundance—a tree whose branches reach far and wide, providing shade, shelter, and sustenance to all who seek refuge beneath its boughs.
But our vision goes beyond mere financial returns. Our fund is not just about profits; it's about people—people whose lives are touched, whose dreams are realized, and whose futures are forever changed. And so, we entrust the management of our fund to third parties, ensuring fairness, transparency, and accountability at every step of the way.
And as the returns roll in, they do more than just fill our coffers; they fuel our dreams, our aspirations, and our vision for a better tomorrow. They become the lifeblood of our community—a source of sustenance, support, and empowerment for generations to come.
So let us invest in our future, let us plant the seeds of possibility, and let us nurture them with care and diligence. For in the soil of our collective ambition lies the promise of a brighter tomorrow—a tomorrow where every Yemeni can thrive, flourish, and reach for the stars.
Funding:
Our fund will prioritize education, not just as a means to an end, but as a sacred duty—an investment in the future of our community and the prosperity of our nation. It's not merely about filling classrooms; it's about igniting minds, nurturing talents, and unleashing the boundless potential that lies within each and every one of our children. Through scholarships, mentorship programs, and access to cutting-edge resources, we will not only empower our youth to excel academically but also to become leaders in their fields, driving innovation, and progress.
Moreover, our fund will extend a warm embrace to the newest members of our community—families arriving from Yemen seeking refuge and opportunity in a land of promise and possibility. This isn't just about providing them with the basic necessities of life; it's about welcoming them with open arms, offering them a sense of belonging, and reaffirming our shared humanity. By extending a helping hand in their time of need, we are not only lifting them up but also strengthening the bonds that unite us as a community.
And for our youth, who may find themselves adrift in a sea of uncertainty, our fund will be a beacon of hope, guiding them towards a brighter future filled with purpose and meaning. Through vocational training programs tailored to their interests and aspirations, we will not only equip them with the skills they need to succeed but also instill in them a sense of pride and self-worth. Because it's not just about finding a job; it's about finding a calling, a passion that lights a fire within their souls and propels them towards their dreams.
In essence, our fund is more than just a financial investment; it's a testament to the values that define us as a community—compassion, resilience, and solidarity. It's a promise to ourselves and to future generations that no matter what challenges may lie ahead, we will face them together, as one united family. And together, there is no limit to what we can achieve.
But a crucial question still remains:
How will we fund all these ambitious projects?
Let me assure you, the strength of our community is not just in our numbers but in our economic power. Collectively, Yemenis in America contribute more than $3.1 billion annually to this great economy. This remarkable figure showcases the potential we have to make significant contributions to our own community fund. Imagine if every Yemeni family and business contributed just a small percentage of their earnings to our community fund. Even a contribution of 1% of our collective $3.1 billion could generate $31 million each year. These funds could transform our educational initiatives, support services, and business development plans.
This is our call to unity. By contributing to this fund, we're not just helping each other here and now—we're building a legacy of education, support, and empowerment that reaches back to Yemen, strengthening ties and fostering growth both here and abroad.
Conclusion:
Let us move forward with this mission, with open hearts and a united purpose, to create a future where every Yemeni can thrive. Together, we can make this vision a reality. Ladies and gentlemen, as I stand on closing this topic for today, I implore you not to let this moment’s flame extinguish in the quiet of the ordinary. Each of you carries a beacon—an incredible power to ignite change and inspire others. Share what you've learned, share what has moved you, and share the visions we've forged together here. Let your voices echo beyond these walls through the vast expanse of social media. Tweet it, post it, share it—let your insights resonate across networks and time zones. Transform our collective whisper into a thunderous roar. This is our time to shape the future, one post, one tweet, one share at a time. Let’s make it count. Let’s be the catalysts for change. Share, because the world is waiting to hear from you!
شكرًا والسلام عليكم ورحمة الله وبركاته

Hi all, I'm still drafting this project, but I wanted to get some feedback on my query to see if there are any structural issues I can address at this stage. Thank you in advance for your feedback!
​
Dear [Agent],
I’m excited to send you HEART OF RUST (80,000 words), my YA crossover historical fantasy set on a magical island off the coast of 1940s Colonial Malaya. It will appeal to the fans of the reverse grumpy/sunshine dynamic and high-stakes espionage plot in Chloe Gong’s Foul Lady Fortune, the anti-colonialist themes of R.F. Kuang’s Babel, and the Malayan setting of Yangsze Choo’s The Night Tiger.
Seventeen-year-old Guek Neo will do anything to keep her family afloat under Malaya’s British rule, including scrubbing the decks of the governor’s ship on an expedition to scout an isolationist island off their coast. After all, a month’s worth of food is a good deal for a day of watching colonial officials cry in disappointment when they confirm that the magical Akalem Island, said to be protected by sea serpent god Naga, doesn’t exist.
But Naga is no mere folklore, and Guek Neo learns it the hard way when it attacks the ship, leaving her stranded on Akalem with grumpy scholar Tian. They soon discover other truths to the known myths: Akalemians kill outsiders on sight, and they flourish with an energy supply from a mysterious power source known as the Heart. Guek Neo and Tian must now hide their identities and find a way to leave the island alive. But knowing how much the rest of the warring world wants the supposedly mythical Heart, Guek Neo sees this as her opportunity to get her family out of colonial-fatigued Malaya.
To steal the Heart from the King of Akalem, Guek Neo disguises herself as an Akalemian villager and infiltrates the Royal Corps, an intelligence bureau that works for the King. But her secret is already at stake when she catches the attention of the frivolous Ki Ren, who is determined to uncover the rumored outsider among them. As Guek Neo falls prey to the contagious complacency of living in peace and develops an unexpected camaraderie with Ki Ren, she must decide whether her loyalty lies with Tian, who seems to be operating on his own agenda, or with Ki Ren, who’s being kept alive by the Heart beating in his chest.
[bio]
Thank you for your time and consideration.

Edited in the end:
THIS ISN’T A RANT or Complain, And BY NO MEANS I’M telling you to treat her BADLY. This post is to remind a guy to find meaning to his life and the right partner will come along automatically.
This was in response to a fellow who said whose wife won't give a fuck and honestly I've learned it the hard way(VERY HARD) myself to the point I was psychologically and financially screwed. Also these issues crop even if the basics are met and you’re comfortable in life coz they can compare you live.
I’m still not well emotionally to dive into work at 100% but I’ve come to realise where I was short rather than being toxic and blaming her for everything, this post is a reminder ki kami tumme bhi thi
///// Call me misogynist but when you provide them with everything without effort they will act this way only, don't want to type a lot but let's say I lost my wife coz of this, you're not the burden she is, if you're working and providing or even if she is independent she has to return the favour that's her ingrained psychological need, You can never disobey the million year old genome.
////////
How did it happen, well just like my friend everything was fine till the point I didn't make her the center of the universe ( they will do everything to be it but the thing is you don't have to make them).
See its human need to want what they can't get easily and that goes for both genders but there is another level here the king/queen, believe it or not there will be that power struggle at least for the initial 5-8 years in your relationship. If she’s your queen you’re bound to serve and if you’re a servant you’re replaceable simple.
2ndly with today growing situation they can basically blame you for anything from r--e to d--ry to anything they can think off so you tend to be softer on them, they won't care if they have a kid with you or whatever and keepers are rare.
3rd there is a difference between good sex and wild sex and she needs it ever so often, I can last an hour but it was good sex and not hot and wild that she needed, you need to learn it.
B—tchs word is used for them for a reason treat them like one and see the magic. Also they come in herd if one likes you all others will too. That’s why guys good with girls keep getting more.
And for those 16-18yr kids jumping here are there in this sub, I was the stud in college until she ruined everything for me at college coz I rejected her proposal.
Another thing I found common with guys who had trouble with ladies are those raised by ladies or very strict parents who control every part of their life and other childhood trauma, these guys mostly become yes ma’ams and hence can’t control(not in bad way) their wife’s. What happens is when you’ve childhood trauma you’re not used to take charge and that’s a primary female requirement to stay happy in any relationship they want to be owned like a guarded territory.
I lost mine post that college instance.
THE MOMENT YOU LOOSE YOUR GROUNDS AND SHE HAS AN INCH OF CONTROL OVER SHE'LL RUIN YOU EVEN UNKNOWNINGLY, COZ THAT'S HOW THEIR PSYCHOLOGY HAS EVOLVED OVER.
And so much more, feel free to discuss in dms and comments Now, let’s dive IN.