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Ezeonwha was walking down a long hallway. The dry and plain painted walls and the pure white lighting of the lower levels of the 102nd Visitor Welcome Office helped to frame the dingy realities of those who could only afford these floors. Not even capable of having windows, these were for those who were the cheapest of the cheap or those who mingled with them. He'd passed several Guides on the way in, their claws echoing in the halls as a sign of authority in this lawless land.
Here, mediocrity was king, and he was a loyal servant. He drew his cloak closer about his neck, unwilling to reveal himself to those who weren't already equipped to see through it all. He was famous enough to be an abduction target if he let his guard down. This place was no exception, though Justicar tried to make them such. Too much security on the higher levels and too little on the lower levels. That was the way of things.
Another hallway, this one marked with bullet holes. Two contractors and a Guide were discussing the pricing of the fix project when he turned the corner. Their voices quieted to nothing, the stillness pressing down upon them with the same intensity as the false lighting. Ezeonwha clacked his jaws, giving them a low bow before continuing on his way. He saw the Guide's eyes light up with the sign of his implants getting a reading. It was another impromptu way of tracking via facial recognition, but it was an ancient practice.
Nothing was new about what the Guides did; only how many of them seemed to be on general patrol. Had Justicar hired more of them or actually done full conversions for all of them? Those arm cannons surely weren't cheap or ethical to insert into unwilling participants. And giving a victim a gun they couldn't be disarmed of was a very bad idea, even for Elders. And Justicar was better than most Elders when it came to abject stupidity. He'd likely only been dropped a few hundred times as a child versus the more likely Elder average of a few thousand.
Ezeonwha chuckled at his internal joke, heading deeper underground into the complex. He was going to a certain meeting, and it would be best not to be late. Even if the Guides tracked him, it wouldn't be negative. The group he had been approached by a few days ago wasn't a terror group. He'd looked them up. They dealt in 'freedom and liberation from all chains.'
The Eyes Of Liberty had focused upon Penny as their latest propaganda target and perhaps as a valuable ally in their fight against all tyranny. Though such a flowery message was likely steeped in idealism for the lower ranks, with more pragmatic and likely richer inner circle elites and leaders ensuring the pot would always simmer but never boil or grow cold. That was the way movements such as these managed to skirt the line between inaction and terrorism.
It was a dangerous thing to do. But these were dangerous times. If Penny left, he'd die. Someone with a grudge would kill him. It was a given, and he'd made peace with it now. He needed to get to work, to help others like him and those worse off, with just a small piece of the meager time he had left.
He was in the system as a friend of Penny, so little scrutiny would fall on him as he came and went. He had a new friend, one who was very interested in connecting to Penny.
The offer had come through his communicator, and he'd answered it given its interesting title. After a lengthy discussion about their goals for him and Penny, he'd agreed to at least have a meeting. He didn't tell them that he had a tracker from Phoebe, which would 'be impossible to miss' if things went badly. He knew the value he had, which was why one of the androids was also accompanying him under the guise of being a Sprilnav.
The android was 'walking' on all fours, its mechanical motion entirely silent. It was obscured by a wave of holograms and hard light holograms that would ensure that it wouldn't be considered suspicious beside him. His only guard was a capable one, and Phoebe had all the confidence of an AI who knew that the destruction of her android would only be an inconvenience for her.
Ezeonwha came to an unmarked door with a well-worn door frame. One knock. One pause. Two knocks. Another pause. Four knocks. He waited, and the door swung open. Eight Sprilnav greeted him warily but warmly, their eyes shifting to Phoebe.
The inside of the room was a dull red, coming from a pair of lights in the center of the ceiling that cast dark shadows near the edges. The whole room felt dark and dangerous, and the walls were lined with guns, computers, and several drones. Shelves and drawers were neatly stacked against the wall, as well as five couches and four double beds with ladder access to the top portions.
Bags of food rested atop a trash compactor unit, and the room service button on the inner side of the wall that Ezeonwha could see in the mirror was worn down to the raw metal. No paint jobs here, only grit and business. The room faintly smelled of body odor and assorted foods. Not entirely unpleasant, but also not what he'd expected from a group with sich a flamboyant name. Perhaps they worked in cell-based units. And that was another thing.
Minds were visible in the distance of the mindscape, but the people here were huddled together mentally. They appeared to be haphazard, but Ezeonwha recognized an old army-type defensive formation a mere step from each of their positions. They were more than they appeared. Though based on how their room looked, they probably weren't veterans, just decently trained.
As they walked through the doorway, a scanner activated. One of the Sprilnav, wearing a headset with numbers and letters swirling on the inner side of the visor, called out: "Phoebe android. Commando variant. Risk assessment: Certain Death. Ezeonwha. Carrying two pistols, one hidden in the pack on his left, and the other tucked inside a strap near the lower bottom of his chest."
That made them all pause, sizing each other up. Ezeonwha smiled nervously, failing terribly to break the building tension once again. His nerves started to get to him, but finally, Phoebe spoke. "Well, friends. I, for one, am happy to talk of the business of liberty. Tell us, what do you have in mind for my friend Ezeonwha?"
"It is not about him, AI. It is about the freedom all sentient beings deserve, and which we shall bring to the galaxy no matter if we are alive or dead."
"An honorable goal to strive toward," Phoebe said.
"Thank you. Your words are quite kind for your type."
"I didn't know I had one," Phoebe replied. "But thank you."
Ezeonwha turned his head toward the Sprilnav with all the fancy equipment.
"What is the best way for me and Penny to help in the fight?"
"The best way would be for you to start killing the gang leaders you come across. Barring that, have Penny ignore the graveyards, and continue freeing the slaves as she ought to. The dead have their freedom; the living need her work more."
"I agree with my companion," another of them said. "So far, Penny has done more for the fight for justice than any other on Justicar in generations, so it is a terrible thing to ask more, but we must ask. Even knowing the terrible toll it would have if she loses the Judgment, Sprilnav are at stake."
"People are at stake, you mean," Ezeonwha said. "There is no need to bring species into this."
"There would not be, but it is still a clear factor," another of them said, a female who looked more shifty in her gaze and demeanor. The Eyes of Liberty seemed like one of those groups with too much division.
"Do you disagree with each other often?" Ezeonwha asked innocently.
"Here and there," the tech guy said. "Not often enough to be a problem, and not when what matters is at stake."
"But that is the thing. How can you agree on when something that matters is a stake?"
"Is this a test?"
"Why would it be? Think of it as a genuine concern," Ezeonwha said. "To associate with your group, I have to be certain it will be resilient to change and risks escalating in the future. If the gangs cannot strike at Penny, they will pick the next best targets. Currently, that is me. If I associate with you in a way they can find out, and I assure you they will find out eventually, you all may be at risk as well. And your group's seemingly cell-based design also means large scale mobilization is difficult, ineffective, and risks severe coordination issues which cannot be quickly or safely remedied without changing core security features of it."
"You deduced all of that from context? You are smart, Ezeonwha. And have a good brain in your head. Everlasting knows we need one of those between all of us."
They all shared a laugh.
"I am not as young as I may look," Ezeonwha said. "Penny is not properly learned of the danger that faces us here. I am. The Underground will kill me when this is over. Do you want to die alongside me, all for your beliefs?"
Silence descended again. Ezeonwha kept the pressure on them when one of them stepped forward. "For freedom and liberty? Yes. I would die for that."
"As would I."
"And I."
They all declared the rest in orders that followed the patterns Ezeonwha was noticing. There were variances in their levels of belief and faith in their purpose. Each person had a different level of value difference, which meant that their lives would be worth more or less comparatively.
Cohesion was weaker, too. Not a full defector team, but likely pieces of several. Was that by design from a higher up leader, or was that just circumstance? Another thing to figure out later, that wasn't critical yet, but he would know before he truly went on any missions with them, if he did at all.
He suspected running messages to Penny would be the majority of their tasks. The quality of intelligence the Eyes of Liberty had offered was substantial. Perhaps enough for Penny to turn herself from a major annoyance to the gangs into an actual existential threat. With Justicar's swarming protection of the Fort Court and the 102nd Visitor Welcome Office, there was a limited amount of things that even the gangs could do. And if the rumors were correct, a Progenitor would be partaking in the trial.
"To be clear, if I join up with you, Phoebe would come too."
"Why would we let an AI join us?"
Phoebe smiled. "Without me, you'll die in this fight. You have trained for around 2000 days. You're acceptable combatants, as is Ezeonwha. But you are fighting in a city, and underneath it. You need to know how to keep a low profile. You need to know how to move through a crowd, get in and out. And you need to keep collateral damage to a zero, or the gangs will use you like they have others who had your purpose and were less careful to justify their 'protection' continuing. If you march in there and kill 50 slavers, if you kill a few slaves or a single bystander in the process, your credibility will be smeared. And frankly, with me on your team, you won't get blown up by an IED when you try clearing your first room in a fortress."
"IED?" One of them asked, while the rest digested her statement, going through various levels of offended looks.
"Your translator is too cheap. Improvised explosive device. Here, that can be old engines, reused oil, cracked plastic, frictional fuel bombs, circuit extruders, sodium splash grenades, as well as the more military style attacks they can pack, from small micro rockets all the way up to lower level fission or fusion bombs. Though if you're in a fight with those things involved, you're already dead."
"Why?"
"Because unless you're Elders, or holograms, a nuke will kill you whether you're right next to it or just inside the same shield. They concentrate the thermal pulse, so your bones would be ash before the pain hit your eyes."
"And what protection could you bring against that?"
"Telling you it's there before you start the attack. That is, if you listen to me. I value your lives over that of this android, but also I value Ezeonwha over all of you combined. I will not prevent him from doing this, but I will have you all know the risks involved."
"We are prepared, Phoebe. We have done much of the training you say, though we do not believe the gangs would plant explosive devices in their own fortresses. There is too much risk around that, with betrayals so common. However, the minefields we have scouted are easy to defeat with the right tactics. Perhaps you can give us a briefing on those, too?"
A challenge.
"I can, depending on how long you wish to do this for. But I have the stamina for either hours or weeks, depending on which you choose."
"What of your batteries?"
"They are of sufficient quality," Phoebe assured.
"I hope so."
Their tech guy nodded, more numbers flashing on his visor. Ezeonwha hoped he had a different way of display, like through an implant or something, for the missions in darker areas. The Underground was, by its name, not a place where much natural light was to be found. And the gangs controlled all the power systems in their territory. It was another part of the racket.
"Why aren't you guarding Penny?"
Phoebe's back straightened, a subconscious posture change to make her seem more confident. Ezeonwha caught the tactic for what it was, though without extensive knowledge of bipedal forms, it was less likely the surrounding Sprilnav knew it.
"Penny proved before a trillion eyes she's capable of fighting Elders, Progenitors, and a Dreadnaught Captain. Not to mention her immense power. I can shoot bullets, but she can literally snatch them out of the air and eat them. She has her own way of doing things, and it is a good way."
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Penny landed in the rubble and headed for the Vaquah with a trail of survivors behind her. Many of them, she could recognize the marks of slavery on, with numbers or brands on their skin or just the trauma crouching in their eyes dulled by the pain of a long life in a work camp. Penny went through the wreckage to the shield surrounding the rubble and the defining line between the rest of the city and the destruction. Several news drones flew above her.
More were arriving from various directions. The soft footsteps grew into a constant drumming sound, like a beating heart of doom. Penny marched with them, heading to the spaceport. A large medical operation there quickly rerouted many of its various branches to the most injured freed slaves.
Penny pressed her considerable psychic energy on the entire group, accelerating their healing, slowing bleeding, and generally repairing their bodies and cells from the trauma they'd suffered. But the cloud over their heads did not brighten. The atmosphere remained tense and mournful. Many of them had lost friends, family, and more. She had no right to ask them to feel any different.
She had freed them, that was all. They were not her servants. She was not their ruler.
Several of them came up to her, offering thanks in the small ways they could. Kind words. Attempts at hugs. Even offers of devout prayer and worship, which Penny respectfully declined. She knew, as did most of them, that veneration for her deeds was inevitable. She didn't want to be seen encouraging it at all, since this was a public place where many eyes were upon her.
She knew that it would be misconstrued as a threat if she did. Religions were some of the most major threats entrenched powers could face if not properly co-opted by the state to suit their needs. And here, the 'state' was a military dictatorship billions of years old, ripened with corruption, money, and the immortality of Elders sporting technology beyond any other in the galaxy.
The sky was blue with shields overhead. The Vaquah hung in the distance, its thrusters gently burning to keep it aloft. A trail of shuttles linked the massive ship with several spaceports, including this one. Penny watched the freed Sprilnav get on it one by one, promising themselves to a new life aboard her ship. Technically, they were citizens of the Autonomous Peoples' Stars.
That protection, Penny knew, was why the Vaquah and its innocent inhabitants were still intact. Elders already had hired mercenaries to attack it. They'd failed, thanks to Rimiaha and Penny, but also the defenses of Kashaunta's Grand Fleet when it was in higher orbit. Kashaunta, despite her willingness to use Penny as she would, also had a certain intelligence and empathy. It was highly selective, and only money and power seemed to flip that switch.
But Penny needed the Elder, and Kashaunta only had use for her as an asset. She palmed the new communicator Kashaunta had issued her after the last one's destruction. Kashaunta's hologram appeared. It looked around, noticing the news drones in the air.
"Not here."
"Where?"
"You will know."
In the mindscape, a Sprilnav appeared on Penny's layer. They felt odd to her, almost like the minds of certain humans high up in the hivemind's network. Penny greeted the Sprilnav warmly.
"Hello."
"Queen and Elder Kashaunta requests your presence on her flagship."
"Very well."
In reality, Penny looked around at the crowd. She waited until it dwindled to nothing, and then spoke.
"Displace."
Conceptual energy twisted, and she stood on Kashaunta's flagship, though nearer to the edge than she'd expected. The Elder was waiting for her in an outfit that looked much like pajamas, though they were under a few armor pieces that appeared anything but decorative. Now that Penny noticed it, it was the same sort of armor that Yasihaut had worn to their last encounter, which interfered with conceptual energy. The Sprilnav were highly advanced. She wondered just how far their technology could go. She'd heard mentions of some ships having artificial gravity, and of nanites and programmable matter. But nothing certain.
"Hmm," Kashaunta said, giving Penny a once over. "You have come back. Shall I assume you are still my ally?"
"Nervous, are we?"
"Nervous is what you should be, Penny. The Judgment is coming. Ten days. Indrafabar and Justicar will both be on the court as High Judges. That is not good for us at all. So I figured a bit of prudence was in order. I have thought long and hard about this, and with the great battles of our time so fast approaching, I figure it is time to mend our relationship before the chasm grows any wider."
Kashaunta motioned to a special looking sword sheath on her back. Slowly, she drew a sword. A Soul Blade. Penny began to draw up her armor.
"Oh, I am not wishing for a fight, Penny. I know the damage you could do, even in my sanctum in the sky. Tell me, do you know how Soul Blades are forged?"
"No."
"Good. And tell me, do you know why they draw so much power to swing, even for Elders and beings as capable as us?"
"I have a few theories."
"I am sure you do," Kashaunta said. "But here is the thing. Soul Blades are typically weapons assigned to highly promising Elders, or even Progenitors. Filnatra, undisputed sword master that she is, can wield them as easily as breathing. If I were to swing this blade, there would be no drawback. Why?"
"Because you own that Soul Blade."
"Because this Soul Blade is mine. It is not just something I own. I own around seven or so more Soul Blades, with some weapons nearing their quality lying in my various vaults even now. You did not detect them, because I willed that not to be. I need you to understand this, Penny. You have power. You have might. But you are not invincible. My Soul Blade, if it struck you, would not cutely separate Nilnacrawla or Cardinality from you. Nor would your speeding space entity be able to block this blade with his flesh. If this cut you, it would release unending agony upon you before you exploded in a burst of burnt gore."
Penny sighed. "There is no need to threaten me. Allies do not threaten each other."
"But you do not see me as an ally. You see me as your means to get through the Judgment. You believe I see you as nothing more but a linear singularity maker, and perhaps a passing curiosity I'm backing on a whim. You neglect to imagine that there might be firmer reasons why I back you, and why more Elders are getting drawn into this conflict. You believe I am comfortable with showing you my more pragmatic and ruthless sides because I am comfortable with the fact that you cannot harm me. That you would not dare to do so, when you need my assistance so badly. That I might even be aiming to normalize my 'new' self with you."
"That is hardly my belief alone."
"Is it now."
Kashaunta grinned. There was no warmth in her gaze.
"Nilnacrawla," Kashaunta said. "Cardinality. Exile. Come out and show yourselves. You are being rude as guests."
Exile detached from Penny's head. He grew into the shifting array of fractals and shapes she was more familiar with. What had once grated on her eyes did so no longer. Kashaunta stared at the speeding space entity for ten seconds, then looked back up at Penny.
"He will not work on us. I will cover his form with holograms if he walks through my ship out of courtesy for my workers and crew, if he cannot."
"I am capable, Queen Kashaunta."
"You are quite knowledgable, aren't you?" Kashaunta mused, looking at him hungrily. "Oh, how I wonder what secrets you have in your head. How many of ours do you know?"
"I will not be taken as a hostage," Exile said.
"You will not because I decide not to," Kashaunta said. "Formally, our species are still at war. There is no treaty."
"The Sp'rkial'nova no longer exist."
"Yes, they do," Kashaunta said. "The name was discontinued for use regarding the lesser specimens we created. But I can assure you, Exile, if you wish to go by that name here, that we still do exist. I am a Sp'rkial'nova in the flesh. In the blood. In the mind. In the soul."
"Say what you will, Sprilnav. It changes nothing."
"On that I agree. Though our views on how things are may differ, and yours is wrong, your opinion is not valuable enough to matter."
She turned to Penny. She would have defended Exile, but he gave her a simple shake of his head area.
Nilnacrawla formed out of psychic energy in front of Penny. Cardi did the same beside her. Kashaunta tapped a claw on the ground. Tables and chairs appeared. A chef brought in food that looked passable and a few decent attempts at human cuisine.
"We do not have to eat, though I would expect that all of you at least sit at the table. We will discuss our grievances, and how to solve them before we proceed with the future. We shall first go to the matter of the Alliance. Penny, many in their number wish to establish contact with you. Do you agree to this? If so, I will add their communicator numbers to the translation program I have reserved for your personal use, in case your own device needs another sudden replacement."
"I agree."
"Good. A first step of diplomacy, I would say. Agreement. Now, Nilnacrawla, you look like you have something to say to me. What is it?"
"Free Meridia."
"Meridia was detonated by planet cracker during the 139th Sector 9 Border War. I am sorry more could not be done."
A cold draft of air rushed out of Nilnacrawla's nose. He glared at her. "You let them die."
"I did not. A Grand Fleet was defending that star system, and three came to lay siege. I am many things. A tactician, a queen, an Elder. But I am not a god. I cannot perform miracles. I evacuated 30 billion people from that world and its surrounding stations before the planet crackers hit it. 4 trillion more souls died in that blast. The best I can do is to offer an apology."
"That will never be enough for what you did. If you had never established your nation, they would still be alive."
"They would be slaves. Chattel slaves, not that cute little 'wage slavery' concept privileged people throw around. Perhaps I should remind you just how much darker that reality would have been for your female descendents, specifically. I am a brutal warlord, a dictator with an iron fist. But my claws do not squeeze nearly as tightly as I could. Metrics say that I could extract at least 370% more profit from my people if I simply enslaved them. But despite the shock this may bring to you all, I do have principles. The Autonomous Peoples' Stars are my people. My nation. My empire, if you think I'm imperialist. But I protect them as best I can."
Nilnacrawla's cold anger didn't lessen. Penny placed a calming hand on his front left thigh. He blinked. He let out a long, pained sigh. And he bowed his head to her. Not to Kashaunta, but to Penny.
"There is no need to be cruel."
"My language was accurate, Penny. He is a strong Elder. Everlasting knows he's stronger than most of these fools. Nilnacrawla was and is a hero of the Source war. I respect him enough not to mince words, or to give platitudes. Coddling is for babies. Nilnacrawla is far more mature."
Kashaunta turned to Cardi. "You have been remarkably silent in this, concept."
"I have."
"A wonderfully succinct statement. Perhaps you can shorten it further. But nevertheless, you and I will be working together with Penny much more in the near future. Rest assured, if you refuse to become more independent, you will be nothing more than a crutch for her to rely on before leaving her to fall when you are ripped away."
"When, Elder? I would like to think your protection is sufficient."
"I am sure the truth is quite the opposite, dear. I will now get to the point. Penny needs to move faster, and needs to break out of her shell. She needs to be pushed to do more. She has signed a binding treaty, which shows she is capable of more than barbarian aliens, as some Elders would call her. You, Cardinality, will help her be a high achiever. To do this, you need to learn more about your own history.
That is the theme of the year, after all. History. My history, Penny's history, Sprilnav history, and even Gaia's history, it would seem."
"Gaia? What do they have to do with all of this?" Penny asked.
"Oh, you don't need to worry about that."
"Excuse me? You don't get to decide that, Kashaunta. You will tell me. I refuse to be coddled, like you say. I demand the respect I am owed."
"You forget yourself, Penny."
"I remember myself, actually. I am all I need to be. I can become all I need if I must. You can hold your backing against me all you want, but you won't withdraw it. As you said, more binds you and I than mere money and ideology."
"And if you're wrong?"
"Then I've doomed my species and my nation to war, and this planet to the full power of my wrath."
"Wrath, Penny. Wrath. The Sprilnav have many words for anger, rage, hatred. There is the desire for vengeance, in varying degrees. There is that for justice, which does differ. And that for belonging. I know you believe you are standing up to me as a way to assert your own authority in this relationship of ours. You believe I see you as inferior, and will pull back my help when it is profitable for me. I will not offer you the consequences of what your words could mean.
You already know them, and that argument is as stale as your view on us Elders. I will say this once, Penny. You are the Champion of Humanity. The apex predator of your planet, the only one mostly in charge of an Alliance that does more than merely dream of overthrowing us. It is easy for me to say you are not a threat, though I do not ignore the threat you and your nation are trying to become. Gaia will be a part of your movement, but even my information is not entirely complete. I will not mislead you by claiming I know Gaia's link to this, just that there likely is one.
And I am not unreasonably petty. I am willing to put all our animosity behind us and start anew. Even if you are not willing to do the same, I am willing to make this work for us. You have more people to care for than just the Alliance, now. Do not forget them."
"A lot of words that mean nothing."
"Because you heard, but did not listen. Perhaps it will be easier this way, Penny. I want you to win."
"Explain."
"You wish to overthrow the current Sprilnav led order of the galaxy. Your path to that will likely be through mass slave revolt. A viable strategy that I could spread far beyond just this planet. And I actually agree with you. This Judgment, this utter insanity around the Alliance and your species has shown me the truth. The Elders as a class and a species cannot be trusted to rule any longer. We need new leaders. Better leaders."
"And yourself?"
"As the hypocrite that I am, and the power-hungry ruler of the Sprilnav, I would obviously exclude myself from that number. Let's be realistic. The Sprilnav will never accept a non-Elder ruler. If you wish to see what our insurgencies would be like, imagine the 2090s Struggles of Asia. Expand that to billions of planets, large and small. Countless ships and space stations. We have more collective ships than you have people. And as your military planners know, there is no such thing as an unarmed ship. Without us, without me, your plans are stillborn. Your galactic Alliance or whatever you make will fall to pieces without proper counseling. In essence, my offer to you, and you alone, is this. The galaxy, for the Sprilnav."
"Who backs your offer, with the power to give it?"
Progenitors Lecalicus and Nova appeared in the room.
"I back Kashaunta," Lecalicus wheezed.
"I observe her offer, and wish it a proper outcome," Nova said.
"Thank you, esteemed Progenitors," Kashaunta said, standing just to bow to them. Penny stared at Nova, balling her fists.
"There will be time for battle later," he said. "But not now. Hear out her request. She does not make it lightly."
The Progenitors disappeared.
"If I accept your offer, it will be on a written record."
"No. It will not be, because if that record is written, my nation will be facing war on all sides. A better idea would be for us to keep this under wraps."
"Perfect for betrayal," Nilnacrawla muttered.
"It would be, yes. But consider the second part of this situation, Nilncrawla. If word of this galactic offer, not just the Pact, were to get out, which is why two Progenitors who know the price of interference were called here, it would mean the deaths of Penny and all her kind. Or do you forget what rapidly approaches us?"
Nilnacrawla frowned. "I did. I apologize, Penny."
Kashaunta spoke up again.
"Penny. You believe I will betray you. So I make an offer of collateral. An offer so unbelievably sacred for us Elders that many would recoil at the mere thought of it. Now that you have signed a backed treaty, you are fully qualified."
Kashaunta grabbed her Soul Blade and presented it to Penny.
"What does this mean?"
"Nilnacrawla, tell her," Kashaunta said. "She will trust your mouth more than mine."
"Bonded Soul Blades are priceless artifacts," Nilnacrawla said. "To offer one to another is the ultimate gesture of trust and respect among many martial Sprilnav cultures. It can also allow for a mind bridge, a soul pact, or a proposal for marriage between two great houses, martial families, or Elders of great wealth and power. To offer this to a human... to anyone... is an ultimate sign of backing, and one of trust.
It is a sacrosanct honor, the absolute agreement of speaking truth and respect. The words I can use in any human language are insufficient to describe the weight of this honor. This gesture is one of absolute truth. Family lines with hatred going back millions of years would never dare to violate this honor."
"Only one Elder in history did so, one who once led a group known as the Stannic Resistance. He does so no longer. Penny Balica, Champion of Humanity... if there is nothing else I can give you to prove that I do really back you, there is this."
"...Just how low are my chances in the Judgment for you to resort to this?" Penny asked.
"They are not zero, but your battle with be incredibly difficult even with this boon of mine. The future of the galaxy, I now realize, hinges on the outcome of this. If we do not have enough trust, they will sniff it out, and we will fail."
So she had no choice. But as Nilncrawla continued to explain in her mind, Kashaunta was getting the worse side of the deal. Which meant she was throwing her backing behind Penny for real, beyond all reproach and retraction. Kashaunta, the most powerful Elder in the galaxy.
"And if I reject this gift, or your reasons for it?"
"Circumstances would demand that I kill you and then myself using this blade as a way to cut apart the dishonor, before my remains are dumped into a black hole to be forgotten forever. I would not do this."
"A dark and archaic custom," Penny said. She would have said more, but she looked at Nilnacrawla's face. He was clearly deeply uncomfortable. Her five words had shaken him more than anything she'd ever said to him before.
"You do not understand," Nilnacrawla said. "This is not something to joke or lie about. With a Soul Blade Pact in play, all else must cease. Right now, there is you, and there is her. Accept or decline. The choice, your only choice, is yours."
"How will this look to the Elders in the court? To the Sprilnav, and the people who back me?"
She could see how it would be a boon and a curse.
"You, and I," Kashaunta said. "The whole of the universe between us right now is you and I. No others exist until this one act is done. There will be trust or there will be death. No in between. No middle ground. The nature of this bond will be a Pact of Blades."
Conceptual energy swirled between them. Penny's natural translation, as part of the hivemind, failed for the first time ever. Her communicator likewise did not translate the words Kashaunta spoke.
"Eis nama kaste Penny Balica, sun lanci Dorima Kashaunta. Ko'ri, lanci nupa bes na Dorima'Pecunyanova. Sp'rkial'nova. Sun. Homo Sapiens."
The air grew thick with tension. It was not just emotional, either. Psychic and conceptual energy gathered. The mindscape started to distort as more and more eyes began to view Kashaunta and Penny. But all of them were Sprilnav eyes. All of them were Progenitors. Nova's appeared brightest and largest, nearly six times the size of the next largest pair. They stared at her, sending psychic and conceptual energy down upon her in waves that forced her and Kashaunta to kneel to the ground.
"I apologize for my earlier words," Penny said. "I should not have denigrated this."
Penny stood for an hour, deeply contemplating the Pact. If it was as Nilnacrawla was describing to her, it was a promise that Kashaunta would not break. If she was offering it at all, especially to Penny, it meant she had a level of trust in Penny's capability far above what Penny had previously thought. Apparently, there were even higher agreements than this that were possible, with this Pact being the lowest level of bond and considered unbreakable with the enforcement of consequences coming from the Progenitors themselves.
She thought of her place in Justicar and the wider universe. Hours passed like water. And then, by the end of it, after nearly 19 hours, Penny finally had decided. She gave a short nod to Kashaunta, who had been kneeling to Nova all this time.
Kashaunta gestured at the sword. "Tol, nopa shikai."
Nilnacrawla fed her a few suggestions on what she would need to say.
"I come to this Pact seeking peace, justice, and hope," Penny said. "And a promise not to betray one another, by lies or by treachery."
Nilnacrawla translated Kashaunta's next words to her.
"I come to this seeking trust, understanding, respect, and peace," Kashaunta said. "And a promise not to betray one another, by lies or by treachery. I make this Pact before the gods, those who equal them, and those who surpass them. I bind them to an oath of silence regarding this event, until I directly instruct them otherwise, in a state of a sound mind, body, and soul. Here, we shall step into a future that needs both of us, casting aside that which is unimportant to focus on the ultimate goals we have. I offer my Blade to Penny Balica, of species Homo Sapiens. In this way, we forge a new future, and walk a new path. I accept the Pact."
"I accept the Pact."
Nova and a hundred Progenitors descended. Nova grew larger, and Kashaunta knelt to him. Penny remained standing. His sharp teeth glittered in the light. He pressed his claws to Penny's chest, and to Kashaunta's chest.
"The Pact of Blades is made before the Progenitors. We agree to your vow of silence. The penalty of breaking it will be dismemberment and disposal into a black hole. Penny Balica, Engineer Kashaunta. To break this Pact without mutual agreement is to call down our collective wrath upon yourselves. You both have agreed, and are of sound mind, body, and soul. The Pact is forged. By sword, by word, by action. I, Nova, Everlasting, Lord of the Progenitors, King of all Sp'rkial'nova, Heir to the Mantle of Power, Heir to Narvravarana, Progenitor, Elder, and Sprilnav, declare the deed done, etched in time, space, and Reality."
They winked out of existence one by one, leaving Penny and Kashaunta alone, to ponder the future. Penny's thoughts turned to the Judgment, and her confidence she could win it began to waver. How much worse was this Judgment going to be than before?
Penny stared at Kashaunta's Soul Blade. With careful fingers, she took it. Kashaunta sat up, satisfied.
"Now we can begin. I shall compile all the news about you I can find, and we shall see how to address the questions the High Judges will ask. Now that you trust me, I cannot betray you."

hello friends!!! as the title states, this year will be my first bonnaroo and i’m going solooo💃🏼 so i wanna make friends!! i figured here might be a good place to start lol.
i originally had the idea of possibly finding penpals through this subreddit (i.e. exchanging messages here, some emails and then actual handwritten letter penpals ahahaha). unfortunately this idea came kinda late into the game seeing as we are only a month away from the fest.
sooo i was thinking if anyone was interested, we could still be email penpals and then meet up at bonnaroo once we’re there!? orrr if anyone camping in the beyond is interested, we could set up camp together!??
a lil be about me: - i am 24 at the time of writing this, but i will be 25 by bonnaroo (birthday is this saturday!!!🥳) - i go by she/they pronouns; i am a seasoned vet in the alphabet soup community🫡 i just don’t go by any labels, honestly they scare me lol. feels like i’m putting myself in a box that i never fit quite right into - for my astrology girliessss: i am a taurus sun, cancer moon, leo rising 🌞 - i have too many hobbies & could never name them all but the biggest ones: painting, kayaking, hiking, attending concerts/shows, photography, writing/poetry, stargazing, laying in bed with my cats & dog - i think the best way to describe me as a person is hippie dippy redneck, with two scoops of rock n roll & a sprinkle of headbanging basshead
things i’m looking forward to most about roo: - setting up my camp to look super cute, i already have a bunch of decorations saved that i gotta order soon lol - experiencing a camping festival for the first time - i have some vvv cute outfits planned !!! - the line up goes crazy?!!?! (artists i would like tk see in no particular order: post malone, grouplove, megan thee stallion, svdden death, ashnikko, chappell roan, red hot chili peppers, t-pain, and so many more but i don’t feel like typing that much LOL) - so. many. things.
if you’re still here after reading the mini novel that is this post, pls be my friend 😂😭

So disclaimer this is everything my roommate did when she lived with me from my perspective. Also this is a really long story because a lot happened, and I do tend to get sidetracked.
Before we became roommates, I had a situationship with this guy. Let’s call him John. John and I met in our first semester of college and hit it off right off the bat. John was a mutual friend of me and my psychotic roommate, which is how we were introduced. Let’s call her Shortstack. So Shortstack knew I had a thing for John, and was encouraging us to start a relationship which I thought was nice. Eventually, though, when there was a lull in our relationship she admitted to liking John, and I backed off because it was looking like a relationship between me and John wasn’t gonna happen. I did my best to subtly wingman and they ended up dating.
Right before they made it official, I had met someone new. We’ll call him Tim (I’m trying to use generic/default guy names to keep some anonymity). Tim and I hit it off right off the bat. He’s honestly the most genuine, talented, thoughtful, and interesting guy I’ve ever met. Anyway, right before John and Shortstack started dating, I got a text from Shortstack saying she had the hots for Tim and asked if I he was free game. I was a bit bothered by that, but she respected my answer when I politely told her that Tim and I had something good and I didn’t want anyone interfering. At least, I THOUGHT she respected my answer.
Almost a year later and I had asked Shortstack if she wanted to be my roommate so we could both live near school while not having to live on campus. Worst decision ever.
She moved in before I did, and when it was my turn to move in the place was an absolute disaster. Dirty clothes and empty Dominos boxes covered the floor. She had also set up her decorations all over the entire apartment (not really leaving any room for me, which was made worse by the fact that we shared a room, and the apartment was very tiny so we were basically living on top of each other). I brushed it off, but it never really got any better. Normally I wouldn’t be too upset, I’m not a huge neat freak or anything, but it peeved me that she would always point out any mess that I had made.
Here’s a list of some of her really gross habits: dirty underwear everywhere kept old dominos boxes everywhere would buy salads and let them expire and they would sit there until I took them out Refused to do any chores or contribute in any way our shower didn’t fully drain so hair was often left in the tub, but she never cleaned up after herself (meaning I was scrubbing her pubes out of the tub) Used tissues would be left on the ground Not flushing I never once saw her do laundry in the 6 months we lived together
I’m sure there’s more but these are just the ones that I remember. To be fair, here were my gross she took issue with: Leaving dishes in the sink for a long-ass time Letting my laundry basket overflow Walking around in a towel after I took a shower, even when her tinder dates were over (mostly cuz I didn’t give a shit and everything was covered, but I also understand that her glares when I would do that were a little deserved).
That was the easiest part of living with her that I had to deal with. It got so so so much worse, and slowly she started to reveal her true colours.
She had a job at a jewelry store, got fired. Moved to a job at a grocery store across the street, got fired. Bummed around for a few weeks, mostly just sitting on the couch doing arts and crafts. Tried a Zumba class, quit after 2 sessions. Finally she got hired at a movie theatre, but she would only work Friday and weekends. All the while a lot of new things were appearing in our apartment. New makeup, a makeup chair, a tiny plastic Dreamhouse, posters and picture frames, lights, you name it. She was also buying premade meals and continued to order Dominos and DoorDash, never making her own food.
That’s around the time I found a buried letter from our landlord saying she was 2 months behind on rent. (Also an honorable mention about her RGB lights, she would keep them on while I was trying to sleep, even when I had work in the morning which was most days and she’d throw a little hissy fit whenever I asked her to turn them off because it was midnight and I had to get up in a couple hours).
She would constantly be having guys over, but would never tell me, so I’d always come home to a stranger on our couch and I’d uncomfortably lock myself in our room. Walls were thin so I had to listen to her awful flirting and occasionally kissing noises. She had made a goal for herself to kiss at least 30 guys so she could write a book about it, one chapter for each guy. It’s funny because the book is coming out soon, I’m not gonna share the name because I don’t wanna promote an incel’s diary but if you happen to be one of the guys she wrote about, just know that she has said several times her type is “Generic kinda ugly white guys.” I don’t think that’s her type, I think she just says that because all of the super attractive guys she went after all shot her down so quick.
While she’s collecting “ugly-ish white guys” (her words), she has promised herself to some dude in the military overseas who has a ring with their initials carved into it (his name is Matt. I’m not censoring that because I genuinely hope he sees this even though chances are insanely slim. She’s Jodie-ing you my guy, and she wants to elope and marry you to piss her parents off and for financial benefits because she can’t keep a job).
ONTOP of all this, Tim (who at this point I had been with for over a year) would come over and visit sometimes. She was always miserable, but perked up and suddenly became so sweet and friendly whenever he was there. Tim kept trying to drop some social cues that he did not want to talk to her, but she ignored it. I also want to mention that Tim is incredibly attractive, physically and personality wise, which is the main reason I think that “ugly” isn’t actually her type, it’s just all she can get.
Oh quick mention one of her tinder guys was 17. She was close to 20 at the time. She said their age gap made her uncomfortable but she invited him over because she wanted to, and I quote, “lick his abs.” Take that as you will.
My breaking point with her was when I woke up one day with a random man in the room sleeping next to her. She let a random man from tinder have full unsupervised access to 2 unconscious girls and all of their valuable items. There’s more stuff she did but this is already super long so I’m going to leave it on this note. Let me know if you guys wanna hear the rest.

So disclaimer this is everything my roommate did when she lived with me from my perspective. Also this is a really long story because a lot happened, and I do tend to get sidetracked.
Before we became roommates, I had a situationship with this guy. Let’s call him John. John and I met in our first semester of college and hit it off right off the bat. John was a mutual friend of me and my psychotic roommate, which is how we were introduced. Let’s call her Shortstack. So Shortstack knew I had a thing for John, and was encouraging us to start a relationship which I thought was nice. Eventually, though, when there was a lull in our relationship she admitted to liking John, and I backed off because it was looking like a relationship between me and John wasn’t gonna happen. I did my best to subtly wingman and they ended up dating.
Right before they made it official, I had met someone new. We’ll call him Tim (I’m trying to use generic/default guy names to keep some anonymity). Tim and I hit it off right off the bat. He’s honestly the most genuine, talented, thoughtful, and interesting guy I’ve ever met. Anyway, right before John and Shortstack started dating, I got a text from Shortstack saying she had the hots for Tim and asked if I he was free game. I was a bit bothered by that, but she respected my answer when I politely told her that Tim and I had something good and I didn’t want anyone interfering. At least, I THOUGHT she respected my answer.
Almost a year later and I had asked Shortstack if she wanted to be my roommate so we could both live near school while not having to live on campus. Worst decision ever.
She moved in before I did, and when it was my turn to move in the place was an absolute disaster. Dirty clothes and empty Dominos boxes covered the floor. She had also set up her decorations all over the entire apartment (not really leaving any room for me, which was made worse by the fact that we shared a room, and the apartment was very tiny so we were basically living on top of each other). I brushed it off, but it never really got any better. Normally I wouldn’t be too upset, I’m not a huge neat freak or anything, but it peeved me that she would always point out any mess that I had made.
Here’s a list of some of her really gross habits: dirty underwear everywhere kept old dominos boxes everywhere would buy salads and let them expire and they would sit there until I took them out Refused to do any chores or contribute in any way our shower didn’t fully drain so hair was often left in the tub, but she never cleaned up after herself (meaning I was scrubbing her pubes out of the tub) Used tissues would be left on the ground Not flushing I never once saw her do laundry in the 6 months we lived together
I’m sure there’s more but these are just the ones that I remember. To be fair, here were my gross she took issue with: Leaving dishes in the sink for a long-ass time Letting my laundry basket overflow Walking around in a towel after I took a shower, even when her tinder dates were over (mostly cuz I didn’t give a shit and everything was covered, but I also understand that her glares when I would do that were a little deserved).
That was the easiest part of living with her that I had to deal with. It got so so so much worse, and slowly she started to reveal her true colours.
She had a job at a jewelry store, got fired. Moved to a job at a grocery store across the street, got fired. Bummed around for a few weeks, mostly just sitting on the couch doing arts and crafts. Tried a Zumba class, quit after 2 sessions. Finally she got hired at a movie theatre, but she would only work Friday and weekends. All the while a lot of new things were appearing in our apartment. New makeup, a makeup chair, a tiny plastic Dreamhouse, posters and picture frames, lights, you name it. She was also buying premade meals and continued to order Dominos and DoorDash, never making her own food.
That’s around the time I found a buried letter from our landlord saying she was 2 months behind on rent. (Also an honorable mention about her RGB lights, she would keep them on while I was trying to sleep, even when I had work in the morning which was most days and she’d throw a little hissy fit whenever I asked her to turn them off because it was midnight and I had to get up in a couple hours).
She would constantly be having guys over, but would never tell me, so I’d always come home to a stranger on our couch and I’d uncomfortably lock myself in our room. Walls were thin so I had to listen to her awful flirting and occasionally kissing noises. She had made a goal for herself to kiss at least 30 guys so she could write a book about it, one chapter for each guy. It’s funny because the book is coming out soon, I’m not gonna share the name because I don’t wanna promote an incel’s diary but if you happen to be one of the guys she wrote about, just know that she has said several times her type is “Generic kinda ugly white guys.” I don’t think that’s her type, I think she just says that because all of the super attractive guys she went after all shot her down so quick.
While she’s collecting “ugly-ish white guys” (her words), she has promised herself to some dude in the military overseas who has a ring with their initials carved into it (his name is Matt. I’m not censoring that because I genuinely hope he sees this even though chances are insanely slim. She’s Jodie-ing you my guy, and she wants to elope and marry you to piss her parents off and for financial benefits because she can’t keep a job).
ONTOP of all this, Tim (who at this point I had been with for over a year) would come over and visit sometimes. She was always miserable, but perked up and suddenly became so sweet and friendly whenever he was there. Tim kept trying to drop some social cues that he did not want to talk to her, but she ignored it. I also want to mention that Tim is incredibly attractive, physically and personality wise, which is the main reason I think that “ugly” isn’t actually her type, it’s just all she can get.
Oh quick mention one of her tinder guys was 17. She was close to 20 at the time. She said their age gap made her uncomfortable but she invited him over because she wanted to, and I quote, “lick his abs.” Take that as you will.
My breaking point with her was when I woke up one day with a random man in the room sleeping next to her. She let a random man from tinder have full unsupervised access to 2 unconscious girls and all of their valuable items. There’s more stuff she did but this is already super long so I’m going to leave it on this note. Let me know if you guys wanna hear the rest.

I was with my ex for a year before he broke up with me. Mine F (22) and he’s M (24). During our honeymoon stage we was so in love and enjoyed each other company. We met in late November and we were friends with benefits. We use to hang iut together. We use to sleep in my car to be together. No clothes and just a blanket. We didn’t care as long as we had each other. We were fine. When we were together we didn’t see no one but each other. I got pregnant in December and got a abortion in march. We already had a kid on the way and he wasn’t ready to have another one. He didn’t have a car, he worked at food lion, he had a apartment, and he didn’t have much. I didn’t want to the abortion but it was the best decision at the time for us. I use to help him get his son and pick me up. I picked him up from work, pick him uo from interviews, helped him get a new phone when his old ine got messed up. I always helped him out in anyway and form. This was in the beginning of 2022.
We moved from the situation. We talked about it and were happy. We moved in together in October 2022. It was the worst and happiest decision ever. The beginning was fun. We stayed up late and watched movies. We did normal young couple stuff. I loved it because i got to be around him 24/7 with no one else beside his son. We were a little family. He would go out with his friends but he would always come back home late. He would always be the designated driver when they go out. None of his friends had a car so they used him. I didn’t like it and I told him I didn’t, they used him when it benefit them. He always worked overtime and was always at work to provide for us. I was conplain about us spending some time together like on the weekends but he was too tired from work and he would rather hang out with his friends. This went on for months. He invited people over who I didn’t know and he didn’t tell me. When he went on a trip to Atlanta, he needed helped getting back. His friends that were in his car didn’t have money and therir parents didn’t give him money for gas. He called me and told me to give him $100 dollars to get home. We started to fuss. I told him i’m not there to help him and he need to figure it out his self. He got mad and started to get loud at me about the money. I understand he was stressed and pissed about it but i gave him money to get there for gas and food and i gave him some money before he left. He should’ve had enough money. When i went on my trip he didn’t give me no money.
My birthday last year he broke up with me over stupid stuff. He layed around on my birthday and didn’t care. He got mad about it. I took him out and went to cheddars and I paid for it. I cried in the restaurant. He lied multiple times about why he did it. I cried for the whole month of august because i felt like i was not good enough for him. He went out every weekend with friends and ignored me. He only used me for sex. I cried to him and he looked at me like i was stupid and i made him bored. I was unhappy that whole month but he didn’t care. I went on a trip with my family, I was miserable but I faked it for my fmaily. He was out with friends when i was gone. He didn’t care. We were broken up for 2 weeks. He tried to get back with me but i said no. We got back together so way.
I got pregnant in October of 2023. He was unhappy about the baby. He wasn’t ready. He said he wanted to travel, get a house, build his self, grow and more. I was sad because i knew what he wanted me to do. He told me he wanted me to get a abortion. My last abortion made me depressed and sad. I got tired of it. Our lease was ending in November 2023. We both went back home. I was pregnant and emotionally. I needed him.
For two moths we were happy and excited to grow our family. We still had problems. He still went out with his friends. He went out with some girl and her mom to get me a Christmas. He never got me nothing. The last gift he got me was valentines day in 2022. He came to my house, I was mad. I told him i didn’t like her and that he need to stop talking to her. I told him, she likes him but he didn’t believe me. He said that’s his friend. One day she facetime him when he was getting a haircut. I ignored it but i thought about answering. I never trusted their relationship there. I still don’t.
Christmas eve, we was going out to eat. We came to my house to chill. I got out the care i felt like it was my time of the mont. I looked down and saw blood. I got scared and told my family. They told us to go to the hospital to see what’s going on. We went and waited for hours. I was scared but i tried not to show it. I knew it wasn’t normal to bleed when your pregnant. Wewent to get a ultrasound and the whole time i was scared. My boyfriend at the time cane with me (my ex). She didn’t say nothing when checking my baby. But at the end of the ultrasound she said she was fine and healthy. I was happy. Then we went to a room to talk to a doctor. They thought I had something so they gave me medicine for it but I was worried about the blood. But they said it would go away on its on. We were the last people to leave the hospital and we were tired.
For about a whole week of Christmas week, I bled. I was worried because it lasted too long. I told my family about my concerns. I couldn’t go see a doctor because of christmas and every one was out of work.
My boyfriend ( my ex) took me out for new years eve, we went to juicy crab. We fussed a little about dumb stuff. After he drop me off, he went to a party with friends. I just wanted to spend time with him. We didn’t live together anymore and i missed him. The next day I felt like i was in intense pain. It felt like i was on my period. It started at 6 in the morning and it lasted all day. I was throwing up and bleeding. I called my then boyfriend to come get me. He called the ambulance. He saw my bathroom and he was terrified. I felt weak and i could barely keep my eyes open.
I was still in pain when i got to the hospital. My family came to check up on me. I was too weak to care about my self and in pain to focus. They told me, my baby was trying to come out early. I was having a miscarriage. I was in the hospital for 5 days. I lost my baby girl on the third day. I was sad and i just wanted my boyfriend. He only came two days. He would go to work and then come stay the night with me. He still didn’t have a car. I cried every night when left alone. My mom kept me company when he wasn’t there. He called and texted me through out the day when he was at work. My last day at the hospital, i was ready to go home and get in my own bed. He didn’t text or called me on my last day. I had to tell his friend i was leaving the hospital to tell him. I felt sad because my boyfriend didn’t care about me or was checking up on me. We fussed about him not being there with me. He got mad that i didn’t let him drive my car to get to work and come see me at night. My parents would’ve fussed me out if i gave him my car to use. They told me not to give him my car.
That Saturday he was acting weird to me. He didn’t text or call me. He went out with friends to look at apartments a hour away. He didn’t tell me until the day of. We had two plan to when he have out baby girl. The first one was to move to raleigh and the second one was to wait until she was one to be able to talk and walk to move to raleigh. And we wanted her to be around family. I didn’t know he was still planning to move after everything. He was moving with his friends. I was sad he was moving on. I always got jealous when he would bond with his son. Everytime he was around me, he would call him friends to talk about the big move and what they was going to do. I cried because he didn’t care about me or my baby, he was moving on. It hurt that he never consider my feelings about everything and how i felt about it.
For three months, he treated me like shit. He would ignore my call and text messages. He acted like I didn’t exist. But he still would keep me around to use me to help him out. Helped him get to Raleigh to help his brother with his moving company, help him to get to work and more. I felt alone and depressed. I was going through postpartum. I wrote him a letter about everything from us to our baby girl. He didn’t acre about it. It took him a 2 week to read. I just wanted him to hold me and tell him everything was going to be alright. Everytime he was around me he jsut wanted sex. I took him to Raleigh to look at cars for him. He saw car he wnated and it was his dream car. A 2021 dodge charger. He only had $1,000 in his saving. Because he spent most of his saving trying to fix his other car that his friend he stayed with messed up. They wanted him to put down more on it. He looked at me and asked could i put down $650. I didn’t wnat to help him becashe never helped me and he treate me like shit after i lost our baby. Eventually i said yes i would put the money down to get the car. He needed insurance to get the car too so i put him on mines. I did too much for him. His birthday was days before he got his car. He was happy and i was happy to see i caused it. We just losted our baby so we both were going through it.
He posted on facebook and instagram like i wasn’t there or helped him get the car. I was mad because he didn’t acknowledge me or anything. But quick to act like he got it on his own. I loved him to death. He still treated me like shit afterwards. He didn’t care. He just used me. He was suppose to help me pay for my lawyer but he only gave me $200. My lawyer fees in total cost was $750. I paid all of it by myself. He still haven’t paid me.
Now he talking to different girls and partying. That’s what he wanted from the beginning. He was never ready to have a family with me. He still lie to me and tell me he see his self with me. and that he doesn’t care about me. I hide all our pictures and I delete our text messages. Everything felt like a lie with him. Nothing felt true or real.
I don’t want to get my feelings evolved with another person to hurt me emotionally. I don’t want to feel the same way i did with him for the past 8 months. I wasn’t myself. I don’t love him the same or see him as my lover. He feel like a stranger in his body. I still wanted us to start over and have a better start in life. I miss him and love him still. But i’m not going to wait around for him to come back to me.

Job Description: We are seeking a diligent and experienced Virtual Assistant to assist with dispatching and load board management. The ideal candidate will be proficient in navigating and utilizing the DAT load board platform to find available loads, and will also possess excellent communication skills to coordinate with drivers. Your primary responsibilities will include loading the DAT load board, contacting potential loads via Skype (provided), compiling load information into Excel, and finding suitable drivers for transportation via Facebook.
Responsibilities: - Navigate and search for available loads using the DAT load board platform. - Contact load providers via Skype (provided) to gather load details and negotiate terms. - Compile load information accurately into Excel spreadsheets for record-keeping. - Utilize Facebook to find qualified drivers interested in taking on available loads. - Coordinate efficiently between load providers and drivers to ensure smooth transportation logistics.
Requirements: - Previous experience in dispatching and load board management is required. - Proficiency in using the DAT load board platform is essential. - Strong communication skills, both written and verbal. - Familiarity with Excel for data entry and organization. - Ability to efficiently navigate social media platforms, particularly Facebook. - Reliable internet connection and a quiet workspace conducive to making calls.
Payment and Schedule: - Hourly wage: $3 per hour. - Working hours: 5 hours per day, 5 days a week (Monday to Friday). - Payment: Weekly, disbursed after completing the shift on Friday.
How to Apply: Please send your resume and a brief cover letter outlining your relevant experienceYour. In your cover letter, please highlight your experience with dispatching, using load board platforms, and any relevant skills that make you a suitable candidate for this position.
Note: Only shortlisted candidates will be contacted for an interview. Thank you for your interest.

tl;dr - The bike lanes are here to stay until at least 2026 when Council will receive a report on usage and issues (along with an interim report in 2025). The vote was 8-1 in favor of accepting that recommendation.
Hey everyone,
I've posted an update on the BikeBridge facebook group which I'd recommend joining if you're interested in cycling in Lethbridge, but I'll copy here for those not on Facebook. The council vote has just occurred and we are in the clear until the Summer of 2026 when this will be revisited! I want to thank everyone once again for coming out in person, writing letters, and of course, getting out on your bikes. If you want (way) more details - here are the notes I took, and I'll add my thoughts after:

• This was originally item 4.2.4 on the Agenda where it could be voted on without discussion - council pulled it from this section, asking for additional discussion.
• It became item 8.1.2 - Councilor Middleton-Hope opened with a question regarding the snow removal issues. Director of Infrastructure Services Sanchez said that even last winter they saw a dramatic decrease in calls for the last snowfall event as they adjusted their clearing policies, but adjustments will continue next winter and there will be 2 staff dedicated to the downtown to keep tabs on the situation
• Councilor Campbell expressed that there was a lively discussion which he would characterize as supportive, while some people expressed that they supported the idea, but had concerns around the design - he is supporting the motion because administration has heard those concerns and is continuing to act on them
• Councilor Dodic pushed back and said that a few dozen people over 2 meetings does not constitute overwhelming support, and the Lethbridge Herald poll (while also not reliable representation) had ~700 votes, with more than 75% opposing them
• He supports bike lanes like those along Scenic Drive that share space with pedestrians
• He doesn't believe there was meaningful consultation and said the cost for the 2 lanes was $2.9M, with only $1.2M covered by the federal government
• He said even with that money, besides 4th Avenue South these bike lanes don't go anywhere and so people will have to ride with traffic anyway and people will apparently only shop on 4th Ave and 7th Street because of the protected lanes
• Businesses expressed concern and social media came down on them, calling for boycotts (although some people pushed back on that, and he thanked them for doing so)
• He wants everyone to support businesses along the bike lanes so they don't suffer and is concerned for it
• He feels this vote is a done deal, but is symbolically voting against it
• The vote was called - it passed 8-1 (they didn't say, but I will assume Councilor Dodic was the vote against)

My thoughts here:

• I'm a bit confused by the bike lanes going nowhere comment - on 4th Ave these connect to the scenic drive multi-use path (which admittedly is just a sidewalk for a few blocks), and on 7th Street they connect with the bike boulevard - I certainly agree that connectivity city-wide is an issue (one that is solved with more bike paths, not fewer), but these paths connect about as well as any individual two paths could
• The comment about cyclists only shopping on 4th Ave and 7th St due to safety is strange as well - there is a big difference between a mostly safe route with a short ride (or even walking your bike a block or two) at the end, versus no protection at all
• While I've encountered a few individuals saying they wouldn't shop at a few local businesses, there's been nothing organized that I would consider a boycott - I can't read all social media all the time, but I have kept my ear to the ground on this issue, if that is happening someone please let me know
• I'll restate my position here - I don't support boycotting any businesses regardless of their position on the bike lanes, but I do think we should shop at them while being very vocal about liking the bike lanes - I think biking gets less attention because cyclists are in a good mood while motorists complain about parking, so business owners hear a lot more about parking

This was really long, my apologies. With any luck we've got a few years before we need to think about this again. So get out and enjoy downtown and enjoy biking in Lethbridge!

Hello! Looking for advice on my current situation. Back in the fall I purchased a boat lift for $8,000 off of facebook marketplace, the signed agreement was that I would take the boat lift “as-is” from the owners slip. The seller failed to mention however that the boat lift was entirely stuck in the mud and unable to be removed. After my boat guys attempted to remove it 3 times she has sent a letter citing that if the property has not been claimed after 6 months of possession it is considered abandoned (Minn. Stat. 345.75) and intrusion into their space would now be considered unlawful trespass (Minn. Stat. 609.605). She has cited that this letter serves as a 30-day notice of intent to reclaim the boat lift if we do not remove it by the end of that time period (Zephier v. Agate, 942 N.W.2d 380). I am unsure if this claim has legal precedence and unsure of what to do. Is she correct? Am I able to take legal action against her? Any help would be appreciated, thanks!

[Request] Graphic Design Ultimate Frisbee Jersey
Please do submit link to portfolio.
Budget target 125
Budget range 75 - 150.
If budget doesn't fit, propose price and I'll evaluate.
Please DO NOT provide concept art expecting a fee, it is welcome but I feel guilty not paying and cannot pay extra fees.
Not all submissions/portfolios will be responded to.
I may take a day or two to review and respond to portfolios.
Goals/Needs/Design/Desires:

1. Graffiti Feel, mild anime or cartoonish OK.

• Is not Anime
  
• Is not Cartoon
  
• https://www.wallpaperflare.com/graffiti-letters-font-text-decoration-painted-wall-art-wallpaper-wvltu
  
• Please note the little guy in the image is off style and not desired.
  

1. Funky Vibes with the letters 'RMK' in Simple style, some elements of wild style

• Is Legible and clear
  
• Is not pure wild style
  
• Can have mild retro
  
• Is not strong retro
  
• Urban Feel
  
• Playful Feel
  

1. Orientation

• Consider names will be added to jersey in typical location
  
• Consider number will be added in typical location
  

1. 'Rosy Mound Kids'

• In Baseball lettering - somewhere tasteful.
  
• https://stock.adobe.com/search?k=baseball+font
  

1. Dive catch or otherwise

• https://cdn.ultiworld.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2016/10/ClubNats_2016_TNg_0930_3-33-35_PM_1054-ZF-2289-56204-1-001.jpg
  
• https://ih1.redbubble.net/image.477559047.6632/fposter,small,wall_texture,product,750x1000.jpg
  
• Google images ultimate dive catch
  

1. Darker overall color scheme when considering background. Jersey's will be worn inside out for lights vs darks.
   
2. Short Sleeve graphic
   
3. We prefer .AI (Adobe Illustrator), .CDR (Corel Draw) and .PSD ( Photoshop) formatted artwork.
   
4. Where we are ordering from.
   

• https://zonesportinggoods.com/pages/how-to-order-ultimate-frisbee-uniforms

A bit about the group; we are a pickup team, not a club team but may eventually be a club team. We are Co-Ed, inclusive and care much more about spirit of the game as a priority. Ultimately, this should have a fun vibe, chill atmosphere, but display a high level of competition (in the feel). It's not cutesy - but it is playful. Open to some creative freedom.
I will review portfolios that seem in alignment. Please let me know if you have experience with T-Graphic designs.

For as far back as I can remember, my parents love for me was contingent around how well I did in sports. I remember the fear of playing subpar in a game, only to get screamed at by my parents and then given the silent treatment for days (I was 8). The older I got, the more skilled I became in sports, the more intense the pressure became. I did love sports, but it was my identity. I’d always be signed up for clubs, I’d spend hours a day post school practicing, etc. Weekends would be spent playing game after game, traveling around the state.
I remember our house was adorned with photos of me everywhere playing sports. My mom would love to wear my high school jersey and letter jacket places. The refrigerator was lined with newspaper clippings of my sports games. My dad (who played himself growing up) was no doubt living vicariously through me.
I remember in high school my girlfriend walked into my bedroom and laughed that my room was made out to be a shrine. Posters of me playing sports everywhere, flags with my last name and sports awards, trophies lining every corner, etc. I could care less about any of that, but my mom insisted on decorating my room in that fashion.
After a lifetime of sports, I was recruited to college to play as well. I was injured freshman year and my sports career ended. Honestly I welcomed the end of the pressure. However, that’s when the abuse began with my parents and sibling. It only spiraled for decades until I went no contact a couple years ago.
Nothing I ever did after my sports “career” (graduating with my masters degree, getting a high profile job, getting married, having kids, etc) ever warranted pride from them. If it wasn’t sports related, they didn’t care- and the abuse continued.
My wife and I were recently deep cleaning when we came upon a large tote my mom had given me years ago. She said she was cleaning and packed up all my childhood memories for me to keep. I decided to go through them. The tote is packed full of 1,000s of newspaper clippings of me playing sports, videos of me playing, my old jerseys, trophies, plaques, etc. There are a couple of my yearbooks, and then a box labeled childhood photos of which ALL are sports. Of hundreds, maybe 5 are as a baby and unrelated to sports. Then a box labeled “papers”. Every paper is about sports- college recruiters, awards, etc. That’s it, that’s all my memories.
No growth charts, vaccine charts, doctor visits, childhood pictures unrelated to sports. No baby clothes, drawings, school report cards, school plays, etc.
Only sports. I must admit they kept a lot. And the records of my sports are all meticulously laminated, etc. To a stranger (or to those who try and convince me I’m the issue because my parents “did so much for me always taking me to sports” and I should forgive them) would think they were amazing parents by the looks of the tote. Yet to me it’s so clear, all I was a trophy for them to get recognition for and as soon as I no longer played I lost my value.
Curious if anyone else can relate to this?

For as far back as I can remember, my parents love for me was contingent around how well I did in sports. I remember the fear of playing subpar in a game, only to get screamed at by my parents and then given the silent treatment for days (I was 8). The older I got, the more skilled I became in sports, the more intense the pressure became. I did love sports, but it was my identity. I’d always be signed up for clubs, I’d spend hours a day post school practicing, etc. Weekends would be spent playing game after game, traveling around the state.
I remember our house was adorned with photos of me everywhere playing sports. My mom would love to wear my high school jersey and letter jacket places. The refrigerator was lined with newspaper clippings of my sports games. My dad (who played himself growing up) was no doubt living vicariously through me.
I remember in high school my girlfriend walked into my bedroom and laughed that my room was made out to be a shrine. Posters of me playing sports everywhere, flags with my last name and sports awards, trophies lining every corner, etc. I could care less about any of that, but my mom insisted on decorating my room in that fashion.
After a lifetime of sports, I was recruited to college to play as well. I was injured freshman year and my sports career ended. Honestly I welcomed the end of the pressure. However, that’s when the abuse began with my parents and sibling. It only spiraled for decades until I went no contact a couple years ago.
Nothing I ever did after my sports “career” (graduating with my masters degree, getting a high profile job, getting married, having kids, etc) ever warranted pride from them. If it wasn’t sports related, they didn’t care- and the abuse continued.
My wife and I were recently deep cleaning when we came upon a large tote my mom had given me years ago. She said she was cleaning and packed up all my childhood memories for me to keep. I decided to go through them. The tote is packed full of 1,000s of newspaper clippings of me playing sports, videos of me playing, my old jerseys, trophies, plaques, etc. There are a couple of my yearbooks, and then a box labeled childhood photos of which ALL are sports. Of hundreds, maybe 5 are as a baby and unrelated to sports. Then a box labeled “papers”. Every paper is about sports- college recruiters, awards, etc. That’s it, that’s all my memories.
No growth charts, vaccine charts, doctor visits, childhood pictures unrelated to sports. No baby clothes, drawings, school report cards, school plays, etc.
Only sports. I must admit they kept a lot. And the records of my sports are all meticulously laminated, etc. To a stranger (or to those who try and convince me I’m the issue because my parents “did so much for me always taking me to sports” and I should forgive them) would think they were amazing parents by the looks of the tote. Yet to me it’s so clear, all I was a trophy for them to get recognition for and as soon as I no longer played I lost my value.
Curious if anyone else can relate to this?

For as far back as I can remember, my parents love for me was contingent around how well I did in sports. I remember the fear of playing subpar in a game, only to get screamed at by my parents and then given the silent treatment for days (I was 8). The older I got, the more skilled I became in sports, the more intense the pressure became. I did love sports, but it was my identity. I’d always be signed up for clubs, I’d spend hours a day post school practicing, etc. Weekends would be spent playing game after game, traveling around the state.
I remember our house was adorned with photos of me everywhere playing sports. My mom would love to wear my high school jersey and letter jacket places. The refrigerator was lined with newspaper clippings of my sports games. My dad (who played himself growing up) was no doubt living vicariously through me.
I remember in high school my girlfriend walked into my bedroom and laughed that my room was made out to be a shrine. Posters of me playing sports everywhere, flags with my last name and sports awards, trophies lining every corner, etc. I could care less about any of that, but my mom insisted on decorating my room in that fashion.
After a lifetime of sports, I was recruited to college to play as well. I was injured freshman year and my sports career ended. Honestly I welcomed the end of the pressure. However, that’s when the abuse began with my parents and sibling. It only spiraled for decades until I went no contact a couple years ago.
Nothing I ever did after my sports “career” (graduating with my masters degree, getting a high profile job, getting married, having kids, etc) ever warranted pride from them. If it wasn’t sports related, they didn’t care- and the abuse continued.
My wife and I were recently deep cleaning when we came upon a large tote my mom had given me years ago. She said she was cleaning and packed up all my childhood memories for me to keep. I decided to go through them. The tote is packed full of 1,000s of newspaper clippings of me playing sports, videos of me playing, my old jerseys, trophies, plaques, etc. There are a couple of my yearbooks, and then a box labeled childhood photos of which ALL are sports. Of hundreds, maybe 5 are as a baby and unrelated to sports. Then a box labeled “papers”. Every paper is about sports- college recruiters, awards, etc. That’s it, that’s all my memories.
No growth charts, vaccine charts, doctor visits, childhood pictures unrelated to sports. No baby clothes, drawings, school report cards, school plays, etc.
Only sports. I must admit they kept a lot. And the records of my sports are all meticulously laminated, etc. To a stranger (or to those who try and convince me I’m the issue because my parents “did so much for me always taking me to sports” and I should forgive them) would think they were amazing parents by the looks of the tote. Yet to me it’s so clear, all I was a trophy for them to get recognition for and as soon as I no longer played I lost my value.
Curious if anyone else can relate to this?

For as far back as I can remember, my parents love for me was contingent around how well I did in sports. I remember the fear of playing subpar in a game, only to get screamed at by my parents and then given the silent treatment for days (I was 8). The older I got, the more skilled I became in sports, the more intense the pressure became. I did love sports, but it was my identity. I’d always be signed up for clubs, I’d spend hours a day post school practicing, etc. Weekends would be spent playing game after game, traveling around the state.
I remember our house was adorned with photos of me everywhere playing sports. My mom would love to wear my high school jersey and letter jacket places. The refrigerator was lined with newspaper clippings of my sports games. My dad (who played himself growing up) was no doubt living vicariously through me.
I remember in high school my girlfriend walked into my bedroom and laughed that my room was made out to be a shrine. Posters of me playing sports everywhere, flags with my last name and sports awards, trophies lining every corner, etc. I could care less about any of that, but my mom insisted on decorating my room in that fashion.
After a lifetime of sports, I was recruited to college to play as well. I was injured freshman year and my sports career ended. Honestly I welcomed the end of the pressure. However, that’s when the abuse began with my parents and sibling. It only spiraled for decades until I went no contact a couple years ago.
Nothing I ever did after my sports “career” (graduating with my masters degree, getting a high profile job, getting married, having kids, etc) ever warranted pride from them. If it wasn’t sports related, they didn’t care- and the abuse continued.
My wife and I were recently deep cleaning when we came upon a large tote my mom had given me years ago. She said she was cleaning and packed up all my childhood memories for me to keep. I decided to go through them. The tote is packed full of 1,000s of newspaper clippings of me playing sports, videos of me playing, my old jerseys, trophies, plaques, etc. There are a couple of my yearbooks, and then a box labeled childhood photos of which ALL are sports. Of hundreds, maybe 5 are as a baby and unrelated to sports. Then a box labeled “papers”. Every paper is about sports- college recruiters, awards, etc. That’s it, that’s all my memories.
No growth charts, vaccine charts, doctor visits, childhood pictures unrelated to sports. No baby clothes, drawings, school report cards, school plays, etc.
Only sports. I must admit they kept a lot. And the records of my sports are all meticulously laminated, etc. To a stranger (or to those who try and convince me I’m the issue because my parents “did so much for me always taking me to sports” and I should forgive them) would think they were amazing parents by the looks of the tote. Yet to me it’s so clear, all I was a trophy for them to get recognition for and as soon as I no longer played I lost my value.
Curious if anyone else can relate to this?

[Request] Graphic Design Ultimate Frisbee Jersey
Please do submit link to portfolio.
Budget target 125
Budget range 75 - 150.
If budget doesn't fit, propose price and I'll evaluate.
Please DO NOT provide concept art expecting a fee, it is welcome but I feel guilty not paying and cannot pay extra fees.
Not all submissions/portfolios will be responded to.
I may take a day or two to review and respond to portfolios.
Goals/Needs/Design/Desires:

1. Graffiti Feel, mild anime or cartoonish OK.

• Is not Anime
  
• Is not Cartoon
  
• https://www.wallpaperflare.com/graffiti-letters-font-text-decoration-painted-wall-art-wallpaper-wvltu
  
• Please note the little guy in the image is off style and not desired.
  

1. Funky Vibes with the letters 'RMK' in Simple style, some elements of wild style

• Is Legible and clear
  
• Is not pure wild style
  
• Can have mild retro
  
• Is not strong retro
  
• Urban Feel
  
• Playful Feel
  

1. Orientation

• Consider names will be added to jersey in typical location
  
• Consider number will be added in typical location
  

1. 'Rosy Mound Kids'

• In Baseball lettering - somewhere tasteful.
  
• https://stock.adobe.com/search?k=baseball+font
  

1. Dive catch or otherwise

• https://cdn.ultiworld.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2016/10/ClubNats_2016_TNg_0930_3-33-35_PM_1054-ZF-2289-56204-1-001.jpg
  
• https://ih1.redbubble.net/image.477559047.6632/fposter,small,wall_texture,product,750x1000.jpg
  
• Google images ultimate dive catch
  

1. Darker overall color scheme when considering background. Jersey's will be worn inside out for lights vs darks.
   
2. Short Sleeve graphic
   
3. We prefer .AI (Adobe Illustrator), .CDR (Corel Draw) and .PSD ( Photoshop) formatted artwork.
   
4. Where we are ordering from.
   

• https://zonesportinggoods.com/pages/how-to-order-ultimate-frisbee-uniforms

A bit about the group; we are a pickup team, not a club team but may eventually be a club team. We are Co-Ed, inclusive and care much more about spirit of the game as a priority. Ultimately, this should have a fun vibe, chill atmosphere, but display a high level of competition (in the feel). It's not cutesy - but it is playful. Open to some creative freedom.
I will review portfolios that seem in alignment. Please let me know if you have experience with T-Graphic designs.

Fiona Sinnott was a 19 year old Irish woman who vanished after a night out in County Wexford on February 8th 1998. At the time of her disappearance, Fiona was a single mother to an 11 month old daughter, Emma.
The night of Sunday 8th started off normally and Fiona spent it socialising with her friends at Butler's Pub in Broadway, County Wexford which also happened to be close to her home. Her friends Nora, Joan and Martina all described Fiona as being in good spirts that night but did state that she kept complaining of a bad pain in her arm. Her friends and Garda later considered that this could have been related to a past relationship she had broken off. Fiona had suffered immense physical abuse at the hands of a former boyfriend and had hospitalised herself after being violently attacked on numerous occasions. Her injuries had included bruises to her face, bites to her legs, being beaten about the head and back and even a fractured jaw. She had confided in close friends details about these attacks but never filed any complaints against the perpetrator. Despite this pain in her arm, however, Fiona seemed to be in good form and enjoyed a good night out with her friends. At one point, she called her brother Séamus and asked him to come down to the pub but he declined as he was tired after a long day at work. He later stated that he wondered if something had happened to Fiona while at the pub and had she contacted him as a way of seeking help. Either way, this was the last contact Fiona had with her family. At around midnight, Fiona decided to return home as the pain in her arm was causing her great discomfort. She supposedly asked her ex-boyfriend, a man by the name of Seán Carroll, if he could walk her home. Carroll was the father of Fiona's child and although their relationship had ended, they allegedly remained on good terms. He had been drinking alone at the premises and willingly agreed to walk her back to her home, which wasn't far from the pub. They left together shortly after midnight.
Fiona wasn't reported missing until February 18th, 9 days after she was last seen leaving the pub. Her family hadn't reported her missing sooner as she reportedly had a habit of traversing the country to visit people and would sometimes be without contact for several days at a time. However, after 9 days of silence, her family knew something was terribly wrong, especially as she hadn't contacted Sean's family, with whom she had a childcare arrangement, to collect her daughter. Her father, Pat, then filed a missing persons report. Seán was the first to be interviewed as he was the last person to see Fiona. He told Gardaí that he and Fiona had walked back to her home slowly as her pain was causing her immense discomfort. Upon entering her property, he offered her coffee but she declined and went immediately to bed. He slept on the sofa that night while she went to sleep in the upstairs bedroom. He awoke at 9am and went into Fiona's room where he woke her up and she had told him that she would be visiting the doctors in Bridgetown to see about her arm. Seán gave her some money and then left the house as his mother had arrived to collect him. She drove him home to Coddstown, two miles west of Broadway. He stated that when he left, Fiona was awake and sitting up in bed.
When Garda began to investigate Fiona's house in the hopes of finding clues, they were met with an unusual sight. According to a Gardaí officer, "Her house was immaculately cleaned, almost spotless. This was unusual for Fiona, especially as she had been suffering from arm pain before she disappeared. Her family told us that she was not house proud and she would have always had some mess lying around. Because of this, we don't believe Fiona tidied the house. We searched everywhere for clues but found nothing- everything had been painstakingly cleaned". Fiona's landlord also stated that because of her young daughter, anytime he went to visit the house it "always had bits and bobs scattered around". Fiona's neighbour's reported that in the days after her disappearance, numerous black bin bags appeared outside of her house. However, these had vanished by the time she was reported missing. Several weeks after her disappearance, a local farmer came forward to Garda and stated that while he had been tending to his cattle, he stumbled upon numerous bin bags dumped on his property and that when he opened them, he found numerous letters and documents addressed to Fiona Sinnott. Regretfully, he was unaware of her disappearance at the time and had burned the bags as he believed it to be the result of fly tipping, something that was a big problem then.
As of today, 26 years later, no trace of Fiona has ever been found. However, in 2005 her case was upgraded to a murder enquiry. Shockingly, when her family attempted to erect a memorial plaque in 2008 close to the pub where she was last seen, it was destroyed the night before being unveiled and a second plaque was also destroyed a few months later. However, a third plaque remains to this day down by the harbour. Despite these setbacks, her family have not given up hope of finding her and bringing her home. They have stated that they know exactly who killed her but that the perpetrator now resides in mainland Europe. Garda have also stated they have a person of interest but, as the family stated, they no longer live in Ireland. According to Fiona's family in their most recent Facebook update, she was "terrified" of Seán after their turbulent relationship and would never have asked him to walk her home. They believe he followed her out of the pub without being asked, contrary to the original version of events. He also reportedly told her landlord multiple times that she was in London just after her disappearance, which was quickly disproven. In addition, a woman's scream was heard at around 12:30am in the Kisha Cross area, roughly halfway back to Fiona's home. Finally, Seán had told Fiona's family that he had slept on the sofa, which is odd as she had a spare bedroom that he could have used. He also claimed that he slept on the chaise lounge which makes no sense as it was only 3 feet long. Although this information is telling, no convictions have been made and Fiona's remains have never been found. Until this happens, her family will not receive the peace and closure they deserve and their nightmare only continues.
Sources: https://m.sundayworld.com/news/irish-news/gardai-say-people-know-what-happened-to-fiona-sinnott-last-seen-25-years-ago-today/1754438002.html
https://www.irelandsvanishingtriangle.com/fiona-sinnott
'Missing' by Barry Cummins

———
I'm almost 30 and have one child who is 5 years old. I'm an OFW and coming home this month because my contract has ended. My child's father is a foreigner whom I met abroad. I came home to the Philippines when I got pregnant 5 years ago, and since then, I haven't seen my ex, but sometimes we communicate and he sends money. A lot happened while I was pregnant: I found out he already had a family and children, his business failed, he had many loans at the bank, and the pandemic made it impossible for him to return to the Philippines when I gave birth. I eventually accepted the reality that he deceived me. My Facebook account is locked, and my name is in Japanese to prevent him from finding me on social media.
Now, we are in communication again, and he sends money every month for our child. He said he tried to find me but couldn't. He claims he's financially stable now and wants to make it up to me and our child, and he mentioned that we could get married. His plan is to take us abroad where he works. He has already filed for leave in July because he is serious about coming home to see our child, and he has booked a plane ticket and hotel in advance.
My problem is that I am in a relationship. I had a boyfriend when I left the Philippines, and he has been waiting for me. Our relationship isn't perfect, and we often argue, but not because of other men or women. My boyfriend doesn't know that I have been communicating with my ex because he once said he would leave me if I did. (I know this is cheating, but don't judge.)
My dilemma is that I don't know whom to choose or what the right decision is. I don't want to deprive my child of the chance to know his real father, especially since he has started asking about him. Financially, I need his help because I'm not very good at earning money, and my ex doesn't know that I have a boyfriend. He doesn't care as long as we can be a family.
On the other hand, my boyfriend is almost 7 years younger than me. I never expected him to wait this long. He plans to return to school, and I'm afraid we might not be endgame. He has a tendency to say hurtful things. I remember once when I jokingly suggested he should support my child's education, he said, "How dare you? Someone else had the fun, and I get the responsibility!" He was angry when I teased him, but it hurt. He doesn’t cheat, but he says hurtful things, and I worry he might one day resent everything he has done for me and my child. I tell myself it’s because he’s young, but I can’t help but overthink that I might be making the wrong bet. I'm also scared because I read open letters about people on Facebook and TikTok, and I know of children who were neglected because their parents remarried. I fear my child might end up feeling the same way or not being accepted by my future husband’s family.
My child has met my boyfriend and thinks he is his father. But I'm waiting and hoping that my boyfriend will sometimes remember my child and check on him. During Christmas, he didn't think of giving or sending gifts for my child, but he did for his godchildren, saying he had no money. However, there was one time he bought school supplies when we were fighting, trying to prove he loved my child. I know it’s impossible for him to love my child as his own based on his personality, but I still hope. I don’t want to hurt him because he waited so long, or maybe I just don’t want to be blamed and called a cheater. He has said many hurtful things to me when he's angry, but I let them slide because I'm afraid of being left again. Maybe now it’s different because I have somewhere to go, and that’s my ex. I still don’t know what to do. All I know is that being a parent is hard. I don’t love my ex anymore, but I can sacrifice for the complete family that my child deserves.

Sobrang kupal. Two weeks ago sa birthday ko nagchat sya ng sorry, nagbago na siya, he read my letters again, miss nako ng mga pamangkin niya, miss niya na mga aso ko, etc. Sobrang mabubulaklak na pananalita. Pinaka-outstanding doon ay gusto nya ko ifollow ulit sa instagram. Sabi ko baka weird sa bago niya. Sabi niya WALA SIYANG BAGO.
Nung isang gabi emotionally fragile ako due to the death of my dog. Nagreach out ako sakanya. Guess sinong sumagot sakin? Girlfriend niya daw. Akala ko nga prank lang e kaso nagsend pa ng pic nila sa photobooth. Tapos ngayong mother’s day nagpost din kasama na family niya.
Sabi ng girlfriend, using his account, bakit daw kailangan boyfriend nya kausapin ko. E hindi ko naman alam, sabi ko lang “kakasabi lang ng boyfriend mo na wala siyang bago.” Tinanong niya kung kailan, di ko sinagot - sabi ko lang “oops deleted ba convo namin?” Tapos ayun blinock na ako ng ex ko.
I feel pathetic na ginago nanaman ako ng lalaking to for the nth time. Since then hindi pa ako nakakain, oo tangina tatlong araw nako walang kain at tulog sa sobrang depressed ko. Nag self harm ako lalo na binugbog din ako ng tatay ko dahil OA OA ko nanaman daw.
Isa pang nakakatawa ay andaming sinet na standard ng ex ko noon sa babae. Ayaw niya sa pa-famous, pa-sexy sa socmed, pinagppyestahan ng lalaki sa comment section, pang subtle clown traits ang feed, dalawa facebook account na naka in a relationship pa sa sarili, nagppost ng naka panty lang sa kwarto, naka eyelash at nail extensions - pero look. Yan pinatulan niya, tumpak lahat. Sabi nya proud sya sakin dahil taga UP ako, pero pinatulan niya taga- no name school na tinawag pa nyang tapunan ng isang elite private school dito samin. Kahit yung kaibigan kong taga school na yon inamin na tapunan lang nga sila ng mga bagsak sa elite school na yun. Samantalang dati proud na proud siya sakin taga-UP ako, pinagmamalaki niya sa lahat.
Sana naman pumatol siya sa ka-level ko man lang. Kahit yung demure man lang o ako. Kaso tangina. Sorry talaga. Oo personal bias to. Pasensya na.
Di ko kung ano ang gagawin o iisipin man lang to feel better or makaka move past dito with a smile. Bitter na bitter ako.
third post ko na to about this person. you can read without context but it’s in my post history.

As many of you may have read, there is a case of two missing adopted kids in North Carolina, where remains have been found. The news has reported that their adoptive “mother” is Avantae Deven.
I’m a curious person and started digging up information on Avantae Deven when I first read the story in my news feed and could not believe what I was reading. It seemed like whomever this woman is must have be using an alias; Avantae Deven is not a name like Kim Jones or Mackenzie Smith.
The more I dug, the weirder it seemed to get. I found a property deed to a place in Sedona, Arizona, and figured out that whomever this Avantae person is, she at one point in time had owned a home together with someone named Nicole Adams. So I dug into who Nicole Adams was, and learned that she was the widow of a spiritual leader named Robert Adams. It appeared to me that there would be no way to identify who Avantae really was, unless I could also identify the true identity of Robert Adams.
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I've done investigative work for many years, including skip tracing. I can conclusively state that there was absolutely no person actually named Robert Adams born in New York State on January 21, 1928. This is demonstrated by the New York Birth Index. I have combed the census records for 1930, 1940, and 1950, and cross-checked them against multiple databases, and am confident that nobody with the birth name of Robert Adams was born anywhere in the United States on January 21, 1928.
Moreover, there was absolutely no person with the true name of Robert Adams who died anywhere at all in the United States, let alone Sedona, Arizona, on March 2, 1997. This is demonstrated by the Social Security Death Index.
I began this research largely by performing exhaustive searches on the known addresses that are associated with Robert, his wife Leonie (who used to use the alias Nicole), and Avantae Deven (who turns out to be their daughter Michelle who began using the alias Avantae in the mid-1990’s or so). Most of the addresses are PO boxes. Those that are PO boxes are all *private* PO boxes, not PO boxes that one can rent from the United States Postal Service. To me, that spoke volumes. The family were clearly using aliases.
As I explain further below, I eventually determined that “Robert Adams” was Robert Spiegel, born 21 January 1932 in New York. “Nicole Adams” was actually Aileen Beverly Leonie Maxwell, born February 2, 1929, in Jamaica. “Avantae Deven” is actually their daughter, Michelle K. Spiegel, born on October 1, 1960, in California.
One of Robert’s many false stories about Robert’s life that my research has refuted is Robert’s claim that his mother was Jewish and his father was Catholic. That was a lie. Both of his parents were Jewish. It’s also interesting that he claimed that he was “raised Catholic.” There is absolutely nothing to suggest that. His mother always, in New York, lived in Jewish neighborhoods. Moreover, as will be discussed below, his parents had a Jewish wedding. It’s also downright absurd that he would tell people that he was “half Jewish.” If your mother’s Jewish, you are Jewish, pure and simple. Even if Robert’s father had truly been Catholic (which he wasn’t; his name was Samuel Spiegel and he immigrated to America in 1907, lived with his Jewish, Yiddish-speaking cousins, and spoke Yiddish himself), Robert would have been Jewish because the status of being a Jew comes from the mother. Robert’s mother’s name was Fannie (nee Fleisfeder) Spiegel. Fannie’s parents were Itzik Fleisfeder and Esther Libke (nee Rifkin) Fleisfeder. Esther’s parents were Mendel Rifkin and Sarah whose maiden name is lost to time and the disappearance of the shtetls. Robert’s claim to having had a Catholic father was utterly false, but is part and parcel of his ongoing compulsive daily lying about anything and everything.
Here is the story.
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Kolomyia, formerly known as Kolomea, is a city currently located in the Western Ukraine.
On January 21, 1892 (the same year that Kolomea tallis¹ workers went on strike for better pay and working conditions), Kolomea resident Rachel Katz, wife of Abraham Spiegel, gave birth to a son, who was given the name Schmuel.
On the date that Schmuel Spiegel entered the world, Kolomea was ruled by the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy, and almost half of the city’s residents were Jewish.
In June of 1907, fifteen-year-old Schmuel² boarded the Zeeland, which sailed from Antwerp, Belgium, arriving at New York Harbor on June 18, 1907. The ship’s manifest states that Schmuel’s father had paid for his transport, and that Schmuel intended to reside with his father, Abe, in Brooklyn. Schmuel was granted entrance, and took up residence with his cousin Charles Fetner, who resided at 353 Myrtle Avenue, Brooklyn, in Apartment A with his wife Jennie and their baby daughter Ettie. The sparse record that exists suggests that although Schmuel’s father was, indeed, named Abraham, Abraham lived and died in Europe, without immigrating to America.
The 1910 census describes Samuel’s cousin Charles as a carpenter, who had been married to housewife Jennie for six years, and a father of three children-- Ettie age four, Nathan age two, and baby Jacob, who was not even a year old. Eighteen-year-old Samuel was identified by profession as a “Foreman Sailmaker” in an industry described as “pocket-books.”
Three and a half years after being granted admission, on a bitterly cold winter day, January 4, 1911, Schmuel (now employed as a pocket-book maker, and having Anglicized his name to Samuel) signed and submitted his declaration to become a United States citizen. He stated, in that declaration, that he was born on January 21, 1892.
By 1915, Samuel had left his cousin’s abode and was residing as a lodger in the home of a widow named Rose Hammer, who lived with her two adolescent sons, Meyer and Louis, at 531 E. 5^th Avenue; Samuel was now working as a “driver.”
Two years after the 1915 state census was taken, Samuel had moved back to Myrtle Avenue, but this time at building no. 849. On June 15, 2017, Samuel registered for the draft, and described himself as being a pocketbook maker, working for “A. Shoenfeld,” at 101 Crosby Street, New York. He was single. He stated, in his draft registration, that he was born on January 21, 1892.
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A woman named Fruma Fleisfeder was born in Beltz, Bessarabia, sometime between July 1, 1893, and 1901, to Itzik Fleisfeder and Esther Lieba Rifkin. Fruma (not living up to her pious given name) provided different dates and years of birth to different authorities on different occasions, making it impossible at this point in time to know her true position in the birth order of her family. Regardless, Fruma, who began using the name Fanny upon her entrance to the United States, did have three brothers and a sister who also came to America-- Louis Fleisfeder who was born April 10, 1890, Max Irving Fleisfeder who used October 10, 1892 as his birthdate, Hersch (later known as Harry), whose official birthdate was December 15, 1901, and Sylvia who was born in approximately 1906.
On December 1, 1919, Fruma arrived in New York Harbor on the ship La Touraine, declaring her intention, at entry, to become a United States Citizen. The ship’s manifest describes her as five feet five inches tall, with fair hair, blue eyes, and a fair complexion. The ship’s manifest states that she was, at that time, age 24. If that were correct, she would have been born in 1895.
Fruma (then going by Fanny) took up residence with her cousin Ethel (nee Ruchlin) and Ethel’s husband Samuel Steinberg, on 15^th Street, Brooklyn. Soon thereafter, Ethel gave birth to her first child, a daughter named Theresa. The 1920 census states that Fanny was Russian, didn’t speak English but, rather, spoke Hebrew, and worked as a milliner in a millinery store. The 1920 census also states that Fanny was age 25, which lines up with her being age 24 in the prior year’s ship manifest.
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Sam and Fanny married in Manhattan on January 24, 1925. Their marriage certificate (signed by each of them) identifies Sam as being age 32 (contradicting, by one year, his immigration records which would have placed him at age 33), and identifies Fanny as age 24, the same age that she had claimed to be six years prior, and also contradicting an immigration petition that she would file two decades in the future, which generally placed her birth year at the mid-point of 1893.
If Fanny’s immigration records (which included a petition with her signature on it) were correct, Fanny would also have been age 32 as of her marriage to Samuel, not age 24.
So did Fanny lie in her marriage certificate? Or did she lie in her immigration petition?
The marriage certificate identifies Sam as having been born in Kolomea, Austria, and his father being Abraham, and his mother being Rachel Katz. It identifies Fanny as having been born in Beltz, Russia, to a father named Isaac, and to a mother named Esther Rifkin.
The marriage certificate does not identify Fanny as having any profession, but identifies Sam as being a pocketbook maker.
Sam and Fannie were married at 125 E. 4^th Street, Manhattan, a six-story apartment building with retail units on the ground floor that is now an expensive co-op, with three-bedroom units selling for over $900,000. Present-day real estate advertisements alternatively state that the building was built in 1894, 1903, and 1905.
The first name of the rabbi who officiated was Harry. His surname starts with Reid, but the remaining letters of his signature are illegible. Rabbi Harry identified his residence as 232 Broome Street, which, at the time, was a four-story mixed use building that, among other things, housed Chevrah Ahavath Zedek Anshei Jaskinover.
Witnesses to the marriage were Mayer Budmon and Samuel Steinberg.
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Sam and Fanny’s existence was documented next in the 1925 New York State census by census. They were living at 205 S. 2^nd Street. Samuel was still working as a “pocketbook maker.” Fanny was identified as a “housewife.”
Fanny was identified as age 25. This was in accordance with her age as stated on her marriage certificate, but not in accordance with her immigration documents or the 1920 census.
Sam was identified as being age 28, which conflicted with all prior records.
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In 1930, the couple were again enumerated, this time in the Federal census. The enumerator, whose signature appears to be “Max Krahn” (or something like that) stated that he obtained the information on April 16, 1930.
Sam was identified as a “framer” of pocketbooks. He was identified as being 36 years of age, which conflicts by two years with the age that he provided to immigration authorities. Perhaps the enumerator was simply sloppy; Samuel was also incorrectly identified in the 1930 census as having been born in “Poland,” with parents who were both also born in “Poland,” notwithstanding other governmental records having identified him as being Austrian. The language he spoke? “Jewish,” according to the enumerator. Was that to mean Hebrew? Yiddish? Both?
Fannie was identified as age 30 (directly in conflict with the information she supplied in her immigration petition, which bears her signature) and as being “Russian,” with parents born in “Russia.” The 1930 census enumerator incorrectly wrote that her year of immigration was 1921. Fannie, too, was identified by the enumerator as speaking the “Jewish” language.
Although later records reflected that Sam and Fannie had a son named Irving who was born in 1926, Irving was not recorded in the 1930 census. Was he missed by the enumerator? Or was he a later-adopted son?
The couple also had a boarder, identified by the 1930 enumerator as one Esther “Larson,” age 40, born in Russia, and similarly a speaker of the “Jewish” language.
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The New York Birth Index identifies a baby boy, Robert Spiegel, as one of many babies having been born in the city on January 21, 1932.
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On May 21, 1936, Samuel committed suicide by hanging in the family residence, a tenement apartment located at 1168 Union Avenue, in the Bronx. Although, based upon the date of birth that Samuel used for official governmental purposes he was age 44, the death certificate stated that he was age 43.
Fannie engaged the Gordon Funeral Home to prepare him for burial.
Strangely, although Samuel’s headstone accurately identified him in Hebrew as Schmuel Spiegel, son of Avraham, it inexplicably incorrectly stated that he died at age 40.
Fannie of course knew her husband’s real age; both of them signed the marriage certificate that had Samuel’s correct age listed. Furthermore, Samuel had petitioned for citizenship in 1911, and stated that his date of birth was January 18, 1892.
Why would Fannie commission a headstone with a false age? Perhaps she, like her son, was a compulsive liar. Maybe that’s where Robert got it from.
*******
The 1940 census has Fannie (identified as age 38), Robert (identified as age 8), and Fannie’s son/Robert’s brother, Irving Spiegel, age 13, as living with Fannie’s 72-year-old mother, Esther Fleisfeder, at 1537 Fulton Avenue, in the Bronx. Fannie and Esther were identified as widows. Esther was identified as “U” (unable to work), while Fannie was identified as engaged in housework. No source of income for the family was identified.
No explanation is obvious regarding where Irving was living in the census taken a decade previously. Was he adopted?
There is no “Irving Spiegel” listed in the New York Birth Index for either 1926 or 1927. There is an “Irving Spiegal” listed, who was born April 29, 1926. But he is not Irving Spiegel.
I initially thought that perhaps Irving might be one of the unnamed Baby Boy Spiegels born in New York in 1926 or 1927, and that he left the hospital unnamed because his parents were waiting for his bris before naming him. However, Robert left the hospital with the name Robert. Why wait until the bris to name one child, but not the other?
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Slightly less than two years after she was enumerated in the 1940 census, Fannie’s mother Esther died, at home, at 1537 Fulton Avenue. The causes of death were “Coronary Thrombosis, Pulmonary Oedema Nephritis, Hypertension, Arteriosclerosis.” Esther left this world on February 6, 1942, the same day that the W. L. Steed was torpedoed, shelled and sunk less than a hundred nautical miles east of the mouth of Delaware River by a German submarine.
She was buried at Mount Moriah Cemetery in Fairview, New Jersey, the same cemetery where her son-in-law Samuel was interred.
*******
On November 12, 1943, Fannie, now residing at 1985 Bathgate Avenue, in the Bronx, petitioned for citizenship. She claimed, in that document bearing her signature, to be fifty years of age, meaning that if she was telling the truth, she would have been born in approximately 1893.
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On January 19, 1948, Robert (having assumed a false date of birth, that being January 18, 1931), enlisted in the New York National Guard. On paper, he had turned age 17 the day before his enlistment. In reality, he would be turning age 16 two days after his enlistment.
On December 9, 1949, Robert was discharged from the national guard, apparently for having been AWOL.
The discharge document identifies his address as being 1985 Bathgate Avenue, New York City.
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The 1950 census places Robert again at 1985 Bathgate Avenue, New York City. It correctly identifies him as age 18, and states that he worked as a shipping clerk for a newspaper company.
According to the 1950 census, Robert resided at the Bathgate Avenue address with his mother Fannie, who was purportedly still age 50 (seven years after she had previously claimed to immigration authorities to be age 50), and Robert’s brother Irving, age 24.
Irving was listed as unemployed and moreover, according to the census record, had not worked for the prior year. Fannie was employed full-time as a milliner in a hat factory.
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Military records reflect that Irving J. Spiegel, born in 1926 and a resident of 1985 Bathgate Avenue, who had completed two years of high school education, had flown bomber planes over Germany during the war. In his military documents, Irving described himself as single, with two dependents.
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On February 2, 1929, a baby girl given the name Aileen Beverly Leone Maxwell was born in Lucea, Hanover, Jamaica, to William Maxwell and Daisy (nee Tibbits) Maxwell. Her birth was registered by her parents.
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In 1954, Robert Spiegel and Aileen Maxwell were married in New York City. Their marriage license was given License No. 10284.
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The following year, the Kingston, Jamaica, Gleaner reported on June 6, 1955:
Miss Leonie Maxwell, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. W. J. Maxwell, was married recently in New York City to Mr. Robert Spiegel of the U.S.A. Both the bride and groom are students at the New York Institute of Dietetics. The bride left the island nearly two years ago for New York. Her wedding gown was chantilly lace and nylon tulle. The bodice was fashioned with a wide, scalloped neckline and elbow-length sleeves. Her three tier skirt of chantilly lace was over pleated nylon tulle. Her fingertip-length veil was adorned with pearls.
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If the claim regarding the couple studying at the New York Institute of Dietetics was even true, their studies at this institution didn’t last long. In May of 1956, a number of advertisements bearing Robert’s photograph appeared in the Kingston, Jamaica Gleaner. The advertisements described Robert as a psychologist, author, lecturer, and “practitioner in auto suggestion,” and identified him as “Dr. J. Robert Spiegel.” Readers were invited to come meet Robert on May 21, 1956, at Record Plaza, where he would be autographing his “latest” “world-wide” 33 and 1/3 RPM record, “How to Stop Smoking in 7 days by Auto-Suggestion.”
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On May 1, 1959, three residents of 1985 Bathgate Avenue, Bronx, New York, came through customs, having returned from a trip to Jamaica. They identified themselves as “Robert D. Spiegel” born in New York (in addition to giving himself a false middle initial, Robert neglected to complete the I-94-A fully, specifically by leaving his birthdate blank), “Leonie A. Spiegel” born in Jamaica on February 2, 1929, and their minor daughter, and “Sharon S. Spiegel,” born in New York. Someone also neglected to fully complete Sharon’s I-94-A, specifically by leaving her birthdate blank.
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Leonie had taken Sharon to Jamaica two years earlier. There are no publicly available records pertaining to their outbound transport from the United States to Jamaica. There is, however, a record pertaining to their return to the United States. That publicly available record does not provide their address, but Sharon is identified as weighing 1 stone 5 pounds (a total of 19 pounds), and Leonie is identified as weighing six stone 5 pounds (89 pounds). Interestingly, Leonie used the name “Aileen Spiegel,” and the records assert that Aileen has no middle initial. Aileen was / is her true legal first name, but it is a lie to say that she has no middle initial.
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Almost two years later, on January 5, 1958, the Kingston, Jamaica Gleaner reported:
Staying at the Tamarind Hotel are Mr. and Mrs. Bob Spiegel and daughter Sharon of Miami, Florida. Mrs. Spiegel is the former Leonie Maxwell, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. W. J. Maxwell of Lucea and has been in the United States for several years. A welcome party in their honour was given last Saturday night by Messers. Horrace, Ray, and Dennis Maxwell, brothers of Mrs. Spiegel. It was a very enjoyable affair.
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In 1963, roughly five years after their 1958 visit to Jamaica, Leonie petitioned for naturalization, in Louisiana. Although I am in possession of the index showing that she petitioned in 1963, I do not possess the petition itself. However, the fact that she petitioned for naturalization in Louisiana demonstrates that that at least she was residing in Louisiana at the time. Since she stated that she didn’t leave Robert’s side for over 40 years, presumably Robert, young Sharon, and also baby Michelle were living in Louisiana at that time.
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People who knew Robert personally relate that he stated that Leonie was a Cayman Island heiress. She wasn’t. Not only was she not born in the Cayman Islands, Leonie’s father’s estate was litigated (with the judge ruling against her) long before Robert started telling people that his wife was a Cayman Islands heiress.
Leonie’s father did leave an estate, but not to her. On November 9, 1967, the Gleaner reported that the Supreme Court had upheld the will of the late William Josiah Maxwell, the father of Horrace, Ray, Dennis, and Leonie, and the husband of Daisy Maxwell, who had contended that William’s signature was a forgery and that the person to whom his estate had been bequeathed had exercised undue influence. The court disagreed. The article reported:
The estate, which one of the executors described as “a sizeable one,” included 112 acres of land at Paradise and three houses at Lucea, Hanover.
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Robert apparently wasn’t banking on Leonie’s inheritance in any event. In May of 1966, advertisements appeared in the Houston Chronicle with Robert’s photo on them, selling a record that would purportedly assist people in stopping smoking in seven days. He identified himself as “Dr. J. Robert Spiegel.”
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On page 55 of the November 15, 1969, San Antonio, Texas Express and News, was an advertisement stating:
SCIENCE OF THE MIND
Dr. J. Robert Spiegel of Houston, director and founder of the Science of the Mind Foundation there, is conducting Sunday evening meetings at 7:30 p.m. in the Sheraton Inn, 1400 Austin Hwy.
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On page 4 of the July 10, 1970 edition of the Fort Worth Star-Telegram was a photograph of Robert, with a brief local news blurb:
GUEST – Dr. J Robert Spiegel of Houston, Science of Mind Foundation director, will speak at the 10:45 a.m. service tomorrow in First Church of Religious Science, 2001 6^th Ave. His subject is “What Religious Science Teaches.”
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On page 8 of the June 18, 1970 edition of the Houston Daily Cougar was this advertisement:
HOME OF UNIVERSAL LIFE
“Teaching Aquarian Meditation For The New Age
Meets Every Sunday, 11:00 A.M. At The World Trade Center Auditorium
Houston, Texas
DR. J. ROBERT SPIEGEL (BRAHMADANDA) DIRECTOR - FOUNDER
Aquarian Meditation Initiation for the first time offered through correspondence. For those sincere students wishing to bypass evolution and enter the 5th Kingdom. Initiation includes meditation technique, Mantra, how to "live” 24 hours a day, and much more. Write for application today:
P.O. Box 53328 Houston, Texas 052
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From the Galveston Daily News, May 02, 1971, Pg. 31:
AQUARIAN MEDITATION SOCIETY PRESENTS DR. J. ROBERT SPIEGEL AN AUTHOR, LECTURER, TEACHER OF YOGA & SELF DEVELOPMENT WILL SPEAK ON MAN, MIND & THE UNIVERSE WEDNESDAY, MAY 5th AT 7:30 P.M. IN THE RECREATION CENTER HARRIS COUNTY PARK, NASA RD. # 1 ALL WELCOME — DONATION $1.50
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The 1972 Spiritual Community Guide lists Robert twice, in the San Diego area. First, on page 117, using his alias “J. Robert Spiegel”:
THE TEMPLE OF METAPHYSICAL ABUNDANCE. J. Robert Spiegel, 1118 Torrey Pines Rd., 92037. Teaches yoga, nutrition, ESP, metaphysics, psychology, mind control
Second, on page 124, in which he, as one might have predicted, was masquerading as some sort of medical man or scholar:
"AQUARIAN MEDITATION SOCIETY, U. S. Grant Hotel, Attn: Dr. Robert Spiegel, 453-7588"
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Also in 1972, Volume 25 of San Diego Magazine published in November advertised gift certificates for the “Astrology Research Center.” “Give your loved one the gift of love. Only $50” said the advertisement. Where was this entity located? At 1118 Torrey Pines Road, the same address as Robert’s Temple of Metaphysical Abundance. The advertisement purported that person identified as “Lil Canaan” was the director. The telephone number was 459-6400.
In 2013, the San Diego Union Tribune published the obituary for Lillian Mulonas, who founded the La Jolla “Astrology Research Center.” At this point in time, unless Robert Adams’ only surviving daughter, Michelle/ Prentiss/ Avantae knows the answer and talks, we will not know what relationship, if any, existed between Robert’s Temple of Metaphysical Abundance and Lilian’s Astrology Research Center, both of which were located at 1118 Torrey Pines Road in 1972.
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From the July 12, 1973, San Diego Reader:
BRAHMADANDA FOUNDATION
“Teachings of the Cosmic Way” meets Sundays, 11:00 a.m., U.S. Grant Hotel, Crystal Room. Free admission, refreshments served. Call 453-7588 for more information.
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On page 51 of the June 29, 1974 edition of Phoenix’s Arizona Republic was the following advertisement:
Speaker from San Diego
Dr. J. Robert Spiegel from San Diego, a traveler and lecturer, will speak at 8 p.m., Friday in Universal Series Center, 4340 N. Seventh Ave., on the topic “Science of Being.”
He is the founder of the “Aquarian Meditation Society” in Jamaica and is founder and publisher of “Equinox,” a philosophical newspaper.
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The family (Adams or Spiegel, however one might want to refer to them) have resided in (that I know of) New York, Miami, Jamaica, Louisiana, La Jolla, Los Angeles, Houston, New Mexico, Hawaii, Las Vegas, Scottsdale, Sedona, and a number of cities in North Carolina.
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In at least the 1990’s, before he left for Sedona, Robert Adams used the address PO Box 7210, Jordan Avenue, D-30, Canoga Park, CA. He used that address on correspondence he wrote, and on at least one published document. Who else used that address? The data aggregators show that this address was also used by a Michelle K. Spiegel, and a person going by the name Leonie Maxwell. Michelle and Leonie also used other addresses associated with Robert, those being 1815 Willis Avenue Panorama City, and 21551 Burbank Boulevard, Woodland Hills.
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The California Birth Index shows that Michelle K. Spiegel was born on October 1, 1960, in Los Angeles County, to a mother with the maiden name Maxwell.
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In later life, Michelle used the addresses above that are associated with Robert and Leonie, as well as an address of 12004 Vanowen Street #14, North Hollywood. This is the same address at which Denniston Keith Maxwell, one of Leonie’s younger brothers, resided at, after his immigration to the United States. Denniston was one of Michelle’s uncles.
In a recent Facebook posting, Michelle/Avantae stated: “Never knew anything personal about said uncles, etc. Never asked, never cared.” Really? She shared an address with an uncle? Her uncle lived within a few minutes’ drive from her parents, and Michelle/Avantae never knew anything about him?
As an aside, Michelle/Avantae alleged (or admitted) that she “never cared” about anything personal regarding her uncles. If that is true, what does that tell us about Michelle/Avantae’s fundamental character? Antisocial? Psychopathic? Narcissistic in the extreme?
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On August 2, 1996, Michelle, going by the name Avantae E. Deven, married Tyson Ruben Alvarez in Las Vegas. The two had addresses in common in Arizona, Nevada, and Montana.
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Robert “Adams” died on or about March 2, 1997, in Sedona, Arizona.
Shortly after that, in the spring of 1997, “Nicole Adams” and “Avantae Deven” (both aliases; the correct legal names are Aileen Beverly Leonie Spiegel and Michelle K. Spiegel) purchased a home together in Sedona, on Navahopi Road. Shortly after the purchase, “Nicole” quit-claimed her portion to “Avantae.”
On July 17, 2001, Tyson, still married to “Avantae,” quit-claimed any interest in the Navahopi property to “Avantae,” and had the county recorder send the deed to “Avantae” in care of the Infinity Institute, at that time located at 9101 W. Sahara Ave. Suite 105 C29 (in other words, a private post box), in Las Vegas.
Avantae divorced Tyson in 2006. She had, by then, moved to North Carolina. She “served” Tyson via publication summons, claiming that she was unable to find him, despite his information being on multiple data aggregators.
You can go to various Facebook groups, and other sources, to pull up the documents that people have uncovered showing who is associated with the "Infinity Institute," and in what fashion, and also the addresses that they have used over the years.
In any event, this is the information regarding Robert that I think that people need to be aware of.
Why turn to a known liar and con man for spiritual guidance?
1A tallis is a prayer shawl.
2The ship’s manifest states that he was age 14, which conflicts by one year with what Samuel identified as his date of birth. These errors are not uncommon; his fare could have been purchased when he was age 14 and the records not updated.

i received shocking news on mother's day- i won my disability case! on the first hearing! i remember coming to this sub searching for advice when i first applied. it seemed mostly just others asking the same questions i had or talking about being denied, so i figured i'd post about my rare case that got approved (in the US.) i can't give legal advice of course, just share my experience and hope it helps someone.
my migraines became chronic october 2020. i quit my job after being denied fmla leave. i had only worked on the record for 3 years at minimum wage jobs. the income was just enough so my husband (bf at the time) and i never really had to worry about bills. i first applied for ssdi in november 2022 (i wish i had applied sooner, i just was so stressed and didn't think i had a chance anyway.) got my first denial letter i think in april 2023. my MIL gave me the info of a few good local lawyers from her local MS facebook support group. i googled some of the names, checking reviews of some of them. called the first one on my list, was told they wouldn't represent me since i'm under 60 (or maybe 50? point being: 26 is a bit younger.) fair enough, so i called the next on my list. answered some basic screening questions and got a phone appointment set up.
i applied for migraines but also listed my mental health diagnoses. usually my mental health is manageable, but with the migraines it started to decline. i had the feeling this lawyer thought i was more likely to get ssdi for my mental health rather than migraines. but i maybe i was reading that wrong and he had to ask more about the mental health since it's a bit more complex to understand than migraines for some people idk. regardless i was honest and he agreed to represent me and was really upfront about how the process works. he told me i'd likely lose the first and maybe 2nd case, but he thought i had a shot. that gave me some hope since he had a lot of positive reviews and i'm sure wouldn't take me if he thought it was hopeless!
still, i stressed a lot because i struggled to find a doctor willing to make a disability statement. it was mostly an issue for me because i had just been forced to switch insurance (turned 27 yay) which made me have to find new providers that don't know me well. luckily my psychologist said he was willing and gave a letter of support! and so timeskip after some more denials, i'm set for a hearing over the phone. my lawyer called me the day before to go over everything; checking that i'm not exaggerating answers, pointing out possible things they could ask about, stuff like that. (not like coaching, moreso just checking that i can give clear answers and not panic lol.) he said he knew the judge and thought she was very fair.
i was super nervous but the hearing seemed to go well from what i could tell! it was so gratifying to hear the job expert say exactly what i've been saying; that i only have experience in low-med labor jobs and those jobs won't hire someone who must be absent multiple days a month. the judge mentioned possibly asking a doctor about applying a special rule they use for seizures to my migraines that would classify me as disabled. the judge was very nice and at the end gave me a "sorry you have to go through this" that felt very genuine tho idk if that's something all judges say. my lawyer called afterwards to say he thought it went really well, i answered things well, and the job expert seemed to agree with us. things seem like they could go either way, but my lawyer sounds more hopeful now too so i'm cautiously excited.
so then mother's day i get a call from my lawyer. i rush to pick up because my social security online account status updated to final review 2 days prior so i knew a decision was coming. and my lawyer tells me, "congratulations, you won" !!!! I contain a scream and say in disbelief, "oh my god, i didn't expect to win my 1st at all!" he explained that actually the judge had written to the doctor about my migraines and the doctor disagreed. my lawyer wrote to the judge that he disagreed with the doctor's descision as he was off about some facts in his report, and the judge agreed with my lawyer!!! so i won for the migraines! he told me about how much i can be expecting and that i'll have to switch my primary insurance to medicare soon.
so i think the moral is: roll a nat20 on lawyer and judge selection and you're good! jk. kinda. i know i'm incredibly lucky to have gotten approved and i know there's so many of you out there that absolutely deserve it but have to fight til the end of the legal system. i mean even my dad was told by his doctor to stop working after a heart attack, but he had to go to the final hearing (in which that judge apologized to him that he wasn't approved earlier.) but if you're considering applying or going thru it and are scared now, just know it's not impossible! i was an anxiety-ridden mess right before my trial and even had a mild migraine during the whole thing, but it went really well! and soon i'll be able to pay off my debts and once again contribute financially!!

From the Facebook page “We Are Lititz”:
Today we sent a letter, with 115 of our names, to the Warwick School Board. You may read the letter in the link below, as well as check out the action steps you can take to help.
There is ZERO reason to fast track the hiring of the ILC, or any firm, for Title IX compliance. As community members, we are all here to hold the Board accountable to transparency and full, open, public debate and discussion. Interview multiple firms, let’s all be a part of ensuring all students have equal rights and access to the school programs and facilities.
Letter to Warwick School Board
https://shorturl.at/xzNT2
Action Steps you can take
https://shorturl.at/xXZ39