Once again if there is anything I missed or any suggestions people want to make feel free to let me know.
NCR: following their loss to the ruler of the strip, and subsequent evacuation, ncr troops returned home to find California in an even worse state, the capital was destroyed nearly exactly as the second battle for the dam took place, and it's destruction plus the armies defeat sent the already struggling ncr economy into a steep decline, seeking a solution, the reformed government attempted another, larger invasion of the mojave a few years later, which led to significant losses on both sides and ultimately another defeat.
This time, troops returned to a nation in near complete chaos. Shortages of food, water, and a now nearly worthless currency led to poverty and famine not seen since the founding of ncr, and riots over said famine, draft protests, and the resurgence of powerful raider gangs meant police and army forces were unable to keep order in many parts of the country, during this time, Brotherhood forces also began to re-emerge, defeating the scattered army in multiple battles. At this point desertion within the ncr military reached its all time high, with thousands of troops either going missing or being confirmed deserters, many of these soldiers would eventually end up forming their own gangs and petty warlord kingdoms within abandoned territories, with most becoming only slightly better than the raiders they were originally supposed to be fighting.
Eventually, the strain on the nation became too much, and the ncr began to officially withdraw from the southern states, with boneyard being one of the first, followed by almost every settlement, one by one, until the line finally held, the new border stretching from Navarro and the coast in the west to the Big Circle and Reno in the east. The ncr was gravely weakened due to its withdrawal, and lost both much of it's citizens as well as much of its industrial and commercial centers, despite this it has consolidated what it does have, and it's remaining cities are enough to keep it standing as one of the major powers of the west, albeit much less capable of its previous feats and ambitions
As of right now, the ncr is pursuing a policy largely of isolationism, and the ideas and ideals of figures like former senator Hanlon and Tandi hold great sway over the republic. Since the collapse the ncr had mainly been forced to focus its energy into rebuilding the north and solving the lingering issues of the food and water supply, and while it still boasts a comparatively formidable army, that army is strictly defensive, with no plans to fight back or reclaim territory being put in motion.
SHI EMPIRE: following the collapse of the ncr, the shi returned largely to a more isolationist stance on the outside world, shutting their gates and sealing San Francisco off from much of the outside world. Despite this, rumors persist about secret weapons deals with various wasteland groups, ranging from particularly influential warlords to the ncr itself, though this is not confirmed
THE HUB: following ncrs withdrawal from the south, the hub fell under the control of a coalition of caravan companies, local officials and army officers, and eventually managed to mitigate the damage of the collapse, soon returning to its role as a hub of trade for southern California, albeit with markedly less profit and stability, they are also one of the only places left in the south that are still in constant communication with ncr proper, with the hub maintaining telegraph lines between the powers in exchange for ncr goods and ammunition.
RENO: during the collapse, New Renos crime families declared independence from ncr, retaking official control over the city and forming a loose alliance to govern it, however this coalition quickly broke down, and the city is currently embroiled in a civil war between the Wrights, who also lead the remnants of the alliance, and the Van Graffs, who are attempting to seize complete control. So far the conflict has remained within the borders of the city and its surroundings, however ncr and Follower presence on the border has increased, both in response to a refugee crisis as well as the possibility of further escalation
WEST COAST BOS: following the decline of ncr, the brotherhood got the breathing space in the war it sorely needed, the west coasts elders and clerics needed only to wait for the ncr to continue to weaken, and following their second loss in Vegas, as well as news from the east of their victories and incoming reinforcements, the western brotherhood pushed back, retaking many of its lost bunkers and pushing ncr forces back. Currently it has merged with a large contingent of the east coast brotherhood, and brotherhood forces have been seen attacking a remnant warlord force in the boneyard area, though the exact reason for this is unknown. (Also important to note, the brotherhood still holds very limited control of the regions identified as theirs, with most of the area being under warlord amd Hub influence, brotherhood only hold a presence in locations such as lost hills and the the observatory)
NCR REMNANT: largely regarded as a myth or hearsay, rumors persist about a large force of veteran rangers and soldiers who, upon receiving word or the retreat from Baja and later the south, remained in and defended the city of Dayglow, turning the city into a fortress, however due to the presence of multiple hostile groups and the lack of contact from the area, Dayglows remnants are regarded more as a theory than an actual unit. No attempts at contact have been made by either the Hub or ncr proper.
WARLORD TERRITORY: warlord territory refers to the largely lawless stretches of former ncr land that have fallen into the control of small territorial groups, whether they be raider gangs, former army units, former brahmin barons, citizens militias or whoever else may have the incentive and manpower to claim territory, quality of life in these areas is still barely better than it was in the collapse, and wars, raids, and starvation are still commonplace, as well as the re-emergence of practices like slavery
NEW VEGAS: following the victory of the ruler of the strip over ncr, little is known in the wider west about the state of Vegas, though it would seem that progress was being made towards greater stability following ncrs retreat, this wouldn't last though, as the second ncr invasion began, and was met with extremely stiff resistance from the securitron army, as well as numerous local groups. Ultimately ncr troops managed to inflicted major casualties on the strip forces, even attacking and breaching the strip itself, and the damage done seems to have shattered Vegas as much as it did the ncr, leaving whatever plans its ruler had unfinished
THE LEGION: following their defeat at hoover dam, as well as the death of Caesar shortly after, the legion began to deteriorate and eventually dissolve, with many of its tribes returning to their former ways or what was left of them, the legion remains however, mainly in and around the capital of Flagstaff, though severely diminished, they have largely taken to ruling over or pillaging the reformed tribal groups and former ncr border settlements. Though many within the legion still hold Caesars ideals, none have been able to recapture what was broken when he died, and so the legion continues to decline.
Post-legion Tribes: named Legionem Proditores (Traitor Legions) by The Legion proper, the term refers to those who have returned to their former ways following the death of Caesar and the destabilization that followed. Vast swaths of the legions subjects attempted to return to their tribes roots, often to little success. Instead forming new tribes that are often completely antithetical to the legions ideals, this has led to the early beginnings of a confederation of tribes and villages that have proven to be a powerful force against the ambitions of the legion and groups like it, using legion tactics and weapons against them in response to slave raids and attempts at reintegration
GREAT KHANATE: following their move to Wyoming, the Khans formed a powerful nomadic empire based off the Mongols of old, so far little is known about their new society, though there have been reports of khan riders as far off as the california coast
EAST COAST BOS: the east coast brotherhood continues to reign as one of the major powers on the eastern seaboard, being the most powerful military force in the area, the commonwealth is the current headquarters of the high elder maxon, as well as his most trusted clerics, choosing it for its abundance of technical artifact over the comparatively safer capital wasteland, however pressure has been mounting for the elder to move once more, as the CPG at large has been becoming much less favorable towards the brotherhood, which it sees as overly protective of its tech and as overstepping its bounds far too frequently
COMMONWEALTH PROVISIONAL GOVERNMENT: following the destruction of the institute the minutemen, alongside the brotherhood and multiple prominent settlements reformed the CPG, a council of representatives from each group who would govern the commonwealth and surrounding areas, since its inception the cpg has grown by many settlements, and the minutemen have grown alongside it, developing a standing professional garrison in many major towns, though still relying on its militia as its major military force. Recently the cpg has begun to debate the brotherhoods place on the council, and many councilors are demanding an end to the confiscation of technology from their citizens, with many demanding a right to use force against such attempts or demanding an eviction of the brotherhood from their bases across the commonwealth.
THE FREE PITT: Following the Pitts liberation, progress on the cure was slow, and conditions in the Pitt remained dismal, albeit better than it was under the raider lords. As time went on however, improving conditions in neighboring areas such as the Commonwealth and Capital Wasteland led to marked improvements in the Pitt itself, as trade and interaction with the newly established CPG, capital wasteland towns, and the Brotherhood led to stability and an improvement in the quality of life for many of its residents. As of 2296, the Pitt, with the help of allied scientists, managed to create a cure to the plague, and due to its industry and trade, its residents currently enjoy a level of stability and prosperity not seen in the city for over a century. Currently the Pitts biggest concern is a mounting need to create a proper government, a proposal that continues to be widely unpopular and staunchly opposed, with many in the Pitt still preferring the anarchic freedoms that the Pitt has stood by since the revolution.
MONTANA BOS: Founded during the very start of the Brotherhood, the Montana chapter was founded by a military officer in the days following Maxons call to revolt. When the war started however, the Montana bunkers found themselves in a much better condition than the rest of the nation, with Montana, and specifically their area of it sustaining far less damage. As a result of this, as well as the relatively low local population, the Montana chapter is in a remarkably safe location, and has a very small number of active combat troops as a result. To compensate for this, the Montana Brotherhood have become some of the best scribes in the entire organization, and the chapters bunkers have become vaults of precious artifacts and texts ranging from FEV samples to the personal effects of Roger Maxon himself. The chapter is also responsible for much of the brotherhoods historical recording, though due to their isolation and the precarious situation the brotherhood had faced in previous years, they have only recently started analyzing and recording the events following the start of the D.C. expedition, and are not expected to finish it for some time.
THE ENCLAVE: Following their loss at the hands of the Brotherhood in Capital Wasteland, enclave forces in the area pulled back to their bases at Mount Weather, West Virginia and Chicago, since then they have largely kept out of major conflicts, attempting to regain strength and manpower before moving on the brotherhood again, however two of their recent attempts at restoration have failed, with an expedition into the commonwealth failing with high casualties, and a researcher in a west coast facility defecting with promising tech.

Anyone else here use too much eye contact as an AuDHDer?
In a nutshell, my relationship with eye contact story goes something like this.
As best I can tell, growing up with a father who is one of the most social/extroverted, funniest, and charismatic people I've ever known, and having a mother who apparently loved and nurtured the living daylights out of my sister and I, may have contributed to my having relatively good eye contact with others throughout my life.
Fast forward to my young adult phase, when I started learning about psychology and business and the effects of remembering people's names and looking them straight in the eyes, and I was a convert. I'd become an eye contact machine.
Time went on, and then I started to realize I sometimes came across as an intimating figure with my piercing gaze and no-nonsense persona.
Without realizing it, I'd essentially become an eye contact overlord, as if its constant use provided me with a sort of Jedi mind trick ability.
Couple this with my interest in psychology, and sometimes I felt like I could see into people's souls.
After this, trials and tribulations came forth, and the sword of Damocles of hardship of life beat some humility and perspective into me.
Fast forward to nowadays, and I was diagnosed with both Autism and ADHD in January 2024.
I've now begun to change my relationship with eye contact because I better understand that I don't need it as much, and I'm so much more comfortable in my skin that I care less about what people might think if I'm looking down or to the side while they're talking to me and I'm listening, or while I'm just talking to them.
Using less eye contact, not overdoing it, feels liberating, much more energy efficient, and it's been a sort of game-changer for me so far while embracing my diagnoses.
If you're someone whose relationship with eye contact doesn't follow the often heard Autistic route of "I barely use any eye contact," in a nutshell, what's your story or relationship with eye contact?

Since childhood, I had an aversion to magic.
I was taught from an early age that it was something dangerous and violent. Something that cannot be controlled, that cannot be wielded by human hands. Something that cannot be explained. And that aversion persisted into my adulthood.
I was taught that yes... But what put the nail in the coffin of my childhood curiosity was that day when my parents were laid to rest.
I remember it much more vividly now. Slowly but steadily, I feel like I am digging something out from the depths of my mind. And the peculiar thing is... It started happening when I met Kye. Sometimes when I look at her I feel a sense of deja vu which I cannot explain. A nostalgic feeling that is almost comforting... Maybe that's one of the reasons I hadn't left in these weeks. I had many chances.
Without much conversation, she helped me dig out some of my memories. By what method or means... I do not know. She awoke something I had hidden inside of me, my essence which I had inherited.
And that same child-like wonder for magic which now pushes me ever forward like a moth to a flame. Dangerous and violent, but endlessly fascinating and useful all the same.
A force of nature.
A force that can be studied through a scientific lens.
And study with scientific vigor I shall.

#
„Hold your concentration.“ Kye whispered to me.
We stood in the depths of the forest unmoving, camouflaged in green cloaks. In the distance just beyond the shrubbery stood a deer that was drinking from a small stream.
I held my hand out palm stretched wide open. Centimeters away from it was a medium-sized pebble, it was smooth and oval in shape. It levitated, though its levitation was far from stable. It bobbed like a ship at sea. I had difficulty holding it still in mid-air.
„Shoot before it notices us.“ Kye whispered once more.
I took a deep breath.
I felt the surge of energy concentrate in my palm. I imagine a pressurized tank of air...
Then I let go...
The pebble shook violently for a second then with a whoosh it flew at great speed, missing the target completely. Instead of hitting the water beside it spooking the animal. The deer raised its head abruptly in the direction where the pebble hit. Then subsequently ran off into the forest.
Kye sighed.
„Better than before, but you still can't aim precisely. You need to hold it steady in the air.“ She said standing up with her crossbow.
„Will we follow it?“ I asked.
„No, let it go. We have to check the traps, they ought to have caught something by now.“ She replied. I stood up as well, dusting myself off and picking up the rifle I had from the ground.
Kye says it only weighs me down... But I feel safer with it
Kye started walking back to where she set the traps, maybe a 30-minute trek back.
„We went pretty deep in today.“ I commented.
„Yes, that's why we're going back earlier. We don't want to be caught in the forest after sundown.“ She had a point. And I was pretty tired from walking through the damn forest all day. Hunting is no easy matter.
„Once we get back I'll get one grimoire we have in the library. It might help you with levitating objects steadily.“ She added.
„May I ask in what language is it?“ I inquired. She remained silent for a few moments.
„Kye you know I can't speak or read Elvish. Of all the books in that library you took out two are in a human language. One in Weserian surprisingly enough, which I can read... The other is Turian which I can probably get a few words here and there.“ I explained. I couldn't see Kye's face but I could guess it expressed mild annoyance.
„Alright, I'll read it to you again. But I'll have to teach you Almaganda at some point. You'll need it.“ She said, however much I did not look forward to it. I still needed to learn the language and script to learn on my own. Because it was frankly embarrassing that she needed to read it to me out loud like she would a child... Well, I am still a child in Elven years I guess.
I had to give her props she learned to speak Weserian with native fluency. She has my grandfather to thank for that... And I thank him as well. Because I would've probably had a bolt in my skull if she didn't know Weserian.

#
I realized the forest during the day was a tranquil and peaceful place. It held within it an ancient beauty that I was thankful to be able to witness and experience. However, after some time you get used to it and it simply fades into the background.
Kye and I chit-chatted during our walk briefly. Mostly about what were going to eat for dinner. But also she reiterated her points where I had to improve with my magic. Nothing new to my ears.
Finally, we arrived at the first trap, which was unfortunately empty. But we had set a few more of them so we continued. The second and third were also empty, I saw Kye was a bit perplexed at this, but she didn't comment on it. Once you are around her enough you can catch the small expressions she does as subtle as they are.
The fourth trap caught something.
„Finally!“ I said happily. We approached the trap and saw it caught a rabbit. Enough to feed us for the night. But we would need something bigger to sustain us during the week.
„We're going back to the house. We will go hunting first thing tomorrow to catch something bigger.“ Kye said, now this was something that raised a question mark above my head. Every previous time she was insistent we don't go back empty-handed, or with something too small.
„Kye, can you share your thoughts, please? I think you're not telling me something.“ I asked her.
She bit her lip.
„I think there might be something scaring off the animals.“
I felt a pit in my stomach form.
„Mages? Bandits?“ I asked.
„No... I'd know if it were either of those. A monster.“ She picked up the dead rabbit by its ears and put it in a large pouch. „And it is probably close by...“ She added.
I remember that Owen told of that the wildlife tends to be aggressive in these parts. Up until this point, I saw that the fauna was more or less the same as back home.
„What's the difference between a normal animal and a monster exactly?“ I asked Kye. I have heard of monsters before... But I didn't look too much into them. I knew they mostly lived in the east.
„A monster has a large amount of essence usually. They tend to be large and aggressive. However, there are exceptions to the rule. There is a species of large herd animals native to the plains of the east called Mulson. They have essence and are considered monsters, but are quite docile unless provoked. Some tribes even domesticated them and used them as pack animals.“ She explained. She looked deeper into the forest, but her gaze lingered before she continued. „I didn't suspect a monster at first because they usually go in small groups. I would've seen evidence of such a group... That only leaves one option left.“ She paused.
„A lone monster.“ She looked back at me. „We should get going now.“
She began walking and I followed her once again.
„A lone monster is more dangerous than a pack?“ I asked.
„Yes and no. If one were to attack us we could deal with it, but it is best to avoid it. Most of the time lone monsters are outcasts from their groups. They tend to be a lot more violent and unpredictable. That's what makes them a bigger risk than an entire group.“ She answered. I looked out into the forest as I walked. It didn't seem as tranquil and peaceful anymore. It was scarily quiet and still.


The same lingering feeling crept up as we continued to walk through the forest. I knew we were nearing the house, shelter. But with each step we took I felt as if we were being watched... The same feeling I had back in the wagon.
I kept my head on a swivel, looking around constantly, the sun was slowly starting to set and visibility became ever so scarce a resource. Kye was silent most of the trek. She was concentrating as well, but not in the same way as I. She told me she could 'sense' if there was an increase of essence in the area. It takes a lot of practice, of course, as she said. But she can do it.
She was a few paces in front of me when I turned my head back to face what was in front. I saw she stopped.
„What is it?“ I asked her in a whisper.
„Can you smell that?“ She asked right back. I made a few steps forward and then it hit me. A foul stench of rot. Before I could locate where it was coming from I felt something wet drop on my head. I instinctively went to touch it with my hand, and when I lowered it to inspect the wet substance, I realized what it was.
It was blood.
Looking up into the thick tree branches that blocked most of the sunlight I couldn't see much, but there were obvious shapes in there that didn't look natural. Kye manifested one of her light orbs and somehow managed to concentrate the light on the tree branches above us.
When she shone the light we finally saw them... Two horses strung up on the tree branches. They were disemboweled and had half their limbs missing.
They were half-eaten.
„How... That's...“ I muttered.
„Not our horses... Whose?“ Kye replied.
„Owen's“ I replied.
„We have to move, quickly.“ Kye said, de-manifesting the orb and beginning to walk at an increased pace. I followed, but that jog soon turned into a full-out sprint.
We ran through the forest with no regard for the sound we made. I could barely keep up, then I heard it. Shuffling behind us, it sounded rhythmic and slow... But it was quick enough to keep up with us. At that moment the only thought in my mind was that it wasn't something small most certainly.
Adrenaline kicked in and I ran as fast as my legs could let me while also trying not to trip.
I then made a foolish decision.
I looked back.
I saw something, but I couldn't quite make it out... But it towered over the both of us. And the thing was as agile as Kye.
When I turned my head back, I didn't see Kye.
Panic set in, but I couldn't stop, I knew if I made a turn I would quickly get lost.
I ran straight for as long as I could, but I heard the thing behind me quickly close the distance. I heard it panting. It sounded... human. But at the same time, it didn't. It sounded too deep to be that of a human or elf for that matter. No, this was something entirely different.
And it was big.
My legs started to give in, I felt them sting. I felt my lungs burn from the exertion. Soon enough I needed to stop, I needed to catch my breath. I heard the thumps behind me get closer and closer, I heard the thing roar... Gods, it was deafening. I heard it knock down trees as it began running even faster toward me.
And just as I thought I was doomed, something grabbed me and yanked me hard into a large hollowed-out tree. I tried to scream, but a hand was firmly placed over my mouth. Then I heard someone speak.
„Don't make a sound“ I heard a demanding whisper. It was Kye.
I stared wide-eyed as the thing passed by running. I saw its feet pass us. The ground shook slightly, and pieces of wood fell on our heads.
„Ju Mo...“ Kye said, I didn't understand what she said.
She released my mouth, and I peeked behind me to see her face.
Even though it was dark and hard to see, I could see her red eyes were wide open.
Terror.
She was afraid.
Shit, I thought to myself, I never saw her show a hint of fear, even when she face three goddamn mages by herself.
„Why is it here...“ She muttered to herself.
She looked at me with a terrified expression.
„You don't have any blood on you? Any scent?“ She whispered.
„No, I...“ Then I remembered. Horse blood. „Shit.“ I muttered as I started to go through my hair, I felt the blood stick to my fingers.
Kye looked at me like she saw a ghost.
Then we heard it come back with a quick pace. We heard it sniff the air.
Kye and I huddled in the hollowed tree, I saw her extend her arm. Her breath was quick and erratic.
Then the monster stepped right in front of the opening, it growled so deep I could feel it in my chest. I saw the monster was standing on two feet, its legs were hairy. And I could smell it, a foul stench of rot and Gods know what else. It was overpowering.
The monster started to crouch, and the moment it showed its face, I felt a strong force pull us to the back with such force we broke through the tree and flew right into the one behind it. Both of us hit the tree at the same time.
My spine felt like it snapped from the impact, but I couldn't grovel in pain just yet. Kye quickly stood up and grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet.
„Get up!“ She yelled, I could hear the monster release another deafening roar, I looked back and saw it was holding its face. Whatever Kye did hurt it, and us...
We ran again through the forest, each moment the sun set farther and farther down below the horizon. And the forest was getting darker by the minute.
I heard the monster kept at it, it was behind us again. Kye stopped abruptly at a small open patch where trees weren't as densely packed together. She extended both her hands and broke of dozens of thick branches of the trees. In mere moments she managed to straighten all the branches into spears. I could see she was using all her strength to do that. I know how hard it is to hold a single small damn pebble still in the air, let alone dozens of heavy branches.
I saw the creature emerge from between the trees.
Right then Kye jabbed the air with her fist, the branches went flying straight at the monster.
When they hit, I thought for a moment everything was over. But then that thing... This monstrosity raised its damn hand, and with a flick of its wrist, all the spears flew out of it, some of them right back at us. Thankfully all of them missed.
But I could see the thing was now even more pissed than before. But it was staggered, but only for a short while. And it could use magic.
I had to think of something. We could use magic... Fire magic.
„Kye will fire hurt it?“ I asked quickly.
„Probably, but it won't kill it. If we use it then we'll have to deal with it and a forest fire!“ She replied.
Goddamn it - I thought to myself. I looked around, maybe there is something we can use. But it was futile, I couldn't see shit. We had to run.
Kye was already doing the same, I caught up to her. The thing was still tailing us. I saw she tried everything to hamper the monster's advance. She fell smaller trees as we ran, I could hear her grunt under the strain of each action she did.
I was in no better position, I couldn't feel my legs anymore. And I was on the verge of suffocating from exertion.
We managed to make some distance between it and us. Kye stopped, grabbing her knees, and panting heavily. I did the same.
I heard it in the distance charging forward still.
„Any bright ideas, Wyatt?“ She asked between pants.
Then I remembered... I still had the rifle. Though it would probably do jack shit to the thing...
I had to think rationally. The monster, though it possesses essence and magic is still a living being. It needs food, water, and air to survive.
My mind raced... Then I had it.
Air!
„Kye, for how long can you distract the thing?“ I asked her.
„Not long.“ She replied.
„I'll need 10 seconds, tops. Can you get a shield up? The same one as last time?“ I said.
„I can... What are you thinking?!“ She yelled back at me.
Just then we saw the monster emerge from the beyond the trees, charging right at us.
„DO IT!“ I yelled at her. Without missing a beat she turned around and erected the same transparent wall in front of us. A much larger one.
I grabbed the rifle from my shoulder and fiddled with it for a second to check if the round is chambered. It was, I closed it back up and aimed.
I was aiming for the jugular. The thing had thick fur, so any other part of the body was out of the question. Head, the skull is probably too thick. Chest, fur, and bone are in the way. Limbs are out of the question.
I was no marksman, but I had to make it work.
My hands shook, my breath uneven and erratic, I struggled to keep the rifle steady. I took a deep breath in and held it.
My hands calmed ever so slightly. The sights lined up with my eye.
I saw the thing hit the wall, Kye grunted. She felt it.
The monster was confused for a moment but then it started hitting the wall, with each hit I heard Kye was struggling to keep the barrier up. I heard her cough and wheeze.
I lined up my shot.
The monster roared.
My eardrums felt like they would burst at any moment.
„LIFT IT!“ I yelled. That moment the wall disappeared and the creature started running toward us again, I felt the ground shake. The monster roared.
My heart pounded like cannons mid-siege.
I felt sweat pour down my face.
I saw the thing open its mouth and extend its arms, ready to devour us.
Then I pulled the trigger.

BANG
I felt the rifle kick into my shoulder. The recoil was stronger than I'd anticipated.
The sound reverberated through the forest but it was drowned out by the monster's roar.
Then abruptly it stopped.
The monster slowed down to a jog, then to a slow walk. It grabbed its neck, I heard it gurgling.
I stepped back, it was getting closer.
Then mere feet from us it collapsed to its knees. It was in that position there, staring at us for a moment before I saw the flicker in its eyes disappear.
Then it collapsed to the ground with a resounding thump. Two mere steps from where I stood.
I stared at it, panting heavily I kicked its head.
It didn't react.
It was dead.
It was dead!
I turned around to look at Kye, she collapsed to her knees. She looked like she was bleeding from somewhere on her face, trails of blood were coming from her eyes and nose. But she was alive.
She looked at me.
The horrified expression quickly turned into a neutral one. Then, for the first time since I met her.
I saw her smile.
And I couldn't help but smile back. Letting out a small laugh.
Then she collapsed to the ground.

Is there such a thing as finding too much treasure?
Previous part: 8.9.
​
The new room could only be described as unfinished, you thought to yourself. You were passing under an arch of a building on your way through here and saw that hanging from it were supposed to be two drooping ropes with flags(or whatever this is supposed to be), but instead, you saw a purple digital polygonal imitation of it.
Other purple digital polygonal objects took the appearance of other real things in the area, but they lacked the what?-factor of the digital floating purple particles or what was going on with the ceiling of the room as it was a just purple grid. (Welcome to the AR world Jeremy. Glitchtrap's twisted wonderland.)
But this was all a distraction from the newly introduced threat in the form of Moon, as now you sought targets that prevent his deadly approach to your ride, all while you heard his chuckles.
In the next room, the situation was the same, except you saw different varieties of purple digital things pouring into the area. (Nice! it's the Princess Quest 3 purple pattern from Vanny's room and the purple arching energy from the wrecking ball in Roxy Raceway! I didn't notice them on the first watchthrough of the game, so it's nice to see and know what that connection is. Though now that I'm thinking about it, it's so weird that Princess Quest 4 shows no connection to anything, unlike its prequel.
Is it because the FNAF6's Pizzeria is so digitally distorted by Glitchtrap in the network that it doesn't show the tell-tale signs of the AR world or is it because the Pizzeria's sub-network isn't as connected to the greater network. Hmm... Something to look into later.)
As you continued to move through the area you saw more and more purple things just crawling throughout as you kept alert for specific targets to stall Moon. (Where in the world is this place? There's no such location we visit in Ruin that has this much wrecking ball energy flowing through it.)
But as you gazed about, you immediately spotted a blue blast-shaped button ahead and above on an arch. It's just like what the "message" depicted! Quickly you pointed your hand cannon at it and shot a couple times until you hit it. You were definitely on the right track now.
Passing under it, you were getting close to the double doors that lead to the next area, though curiously you saw purple digital particles that unlike before, were dripping from the ceiling like the floor above you was flooded.
(Okay, the only place that had to drip purple particles like this was the Upper East Server. That in addition to the purple grid on the ceiling above us, tells me we're directly under it, or really near to it. That sorta makes sense, because Foxy Log Ride is in/next to Glamrock Salon which is right next to the Upper East Server. It's so cool to be able to piece that together!)
But surprisingly, after going through those double doors, you were right back on the track heading towards a familiar area you had been to the first time you did this. Did the alternate paths weave in and out of the standard path? That must be it, you thought as you got all of the targets and headed to the next area where the train robbery scene takes place.
Immediately, after the lights flickered back on from the transitional darkness but before you enter the train robbery. You spotted another Helpy cutout and quickly shot it before you passed it.
Passed the train robbery scene is where you expected the path to diverge to the glitched route as you had taken to calling them, and lo and behold, as soon as you had gone through the train and through the double door at the end of it, you found yourself in a new area.
You heard Captain Foxy's voice once again as you entered the new route. "We be not responsible for any maimings that might happen on this here path." If you haven't already had a trip through an alternate path before, you're sure you'll be questioning how you would be maimed during the ride.
Your ride strolled ahead and entered chambers where you now had to shoot the targets to closed doors and block the Moon, rather than to earn points. However, as you did this, you heard people's laughter replacing the general ambiance of the ride. (I wonder if there's something with this.)
In these chambers, you shot another blue blast-shape button that you saw above near the ceiling, while you defended yourself from Moon's relentless drive to get to you on the ride.
But you eventually persevered through it all and made it back to the normal track again where you collected yourself by shooting at targets without worrying about the threat of Moon. But too soon to you, you found another Helpy cutout, which you shot of course, and was once again heading towards the dangerous alternate path. (Oh, I forgot to mention that these specific Helpy cutouts can be found in the original Pirate Ride in Help Wanted. And in Monty Golf and Superstar Daycare in Ruin. I wonder if Vanny had moved them there after the Help Wanted 2?)
This time noted by Captain Foxt with a simple "Overboard!"
The alternate path this time had no laughing ambiance and had you getting up close and personal with a dancing Moon unless you shot all the targets to make him go away from the platforms near where your ride gets the closest to them by turning on the lights. (Hmm... could this be a point against 1983 Moon? Why would 83 Moon be affected by light still? Also, is the laughing important? A hint to something?)
Another blue blast-shaped button was found and shot while on this path of constant danger, but with skill, awareness, and luck, you managed to get through it all. (Yeah I know there are gravestones in this specific area, but I'm not sure if it's referencing the missing 5 plus Charlie gravestone or if it's just props.)
Now you were back on the normal track, and as went through the next two areas you knew that the ride was coming to an end as you came upon the familiar comforting scene of Foxy and Chica along with other animals surrounding a cake and celebrating as you heard Captain Foxy say, "And the real treasure was friendship along."
(Both the scene and Captain Foxy's exact words are a call back to the original Pirate Ride in the first Help Wanted)
But as you stared at the scene, you finally realized that the cake itself had a blue blast-shaped button on it and proceeded to shoot it. To think that you were looking at it and didn't even realize it the first time you came through here. But now it's all over and you can finally see your improved score and get back to the restaurant.
Yet, as the lights flickered off and you moved forward in the darkness, you noticed something was wrong. The western-theme ambiance that was always there on the normal path came to an abrupt halt and left only silence and the everpresent noise of shifting water in its departure.
Suddenly the three spotlights lit up the path ahead of you, revealing to you a treasure chest on a miniscule island under the third one. As your ride got close to it, you noticed a couple of broken wooden boards on the side of the island, next to a crumple Pirate Foxy Flag.
As your ride came to a stop right next to the wooden box, it unexpectedly opened. (waaaaaaaait a minute! ITS THE CORN MAZE BOX!!! It's redesigned, but it's definitely it! Coincidently or is it Intentional? It has to be, they could have used an actual treasure chest for this, so it has to be intentional. Why? Memory Dolls... memories... William's Mask! It's the key to Glitchtrap!)
Gently, softly, the box's lid came open and a green costumed hand came out from the darkness within. The hand smoothly snaked out of the box until it was outstretched to you, revealing to you the treasure that it held in its palm. It was a doll, an unusual one at that, as it looked to be made by crocheting some wool into a human figure plushie. But stranger than that was the fact that it was wearing a Foxy mask.
You didn't know why, but you reached out to the hand, and hesitantly, grabbed the doll and watched as it poofed into purple smoke. The hand, with no doll in its grasp, sleeked backed into the box as the lid closed itself and your surroundings plunged into darkness.
Next thing you knew, the sound of celebrating cries filled your ears as you were back into the GAME WON! void. Stunned by the sudden change in your surroundings, you automatically hit the button for the crane machine to receive your prize with no thought. Your prize this time was a poster for Ballora titled DANCE!
Yet even though it was something new and interesting, your mind refused to be distracted from the bizarre event that just happened seconds ago. But no matter how much you tried to wrap your head around it, no matter how many times you tried to make sense of it, all you could blankly think is, what?
You felt strange, but you knew you had to keep moving forward. So you pressed the RETURN TO HUB button and returned to darkness to go back to the restaurant. Still, the sight of the Foxy doll never once left your mind.
Remember Jeremy? (the achievement for collecting the memory doll)
​
The achievement has twisted this Help Wanted phrase into a question. And finally, an answer was given to another. Everything is starting to make sense, but joy am I finding too much stuff! I reached my limit a couple Parts ago and now I'm beyond that!
But thankfully. Thankfully! we reached the end of Foxy Log Ride and now I can talk about Vanny, Vanessa, Jeremy, the Memory dolls, and even Glitchtrap now, because why not. What other discoveries while mentally exhausted from this stuff!
Don't worry, I know not to burn myself and take breaks. But still, I eventually have to come back to finish this, and that in itself creates mental fatigue. So let's finish this by starting with the long overdue conclusion of Double-V!
The last time we talked about this, I ended it by saying we'll go through the contradictions of Vanny's and Vanessa's character hinted in Ruin and Help Wanted 2. However, I want to go back a bit to when we were first introduced to Vanny as a character in Help Wanted the Curse of Dreabear.
It's only a few lines of dialogue, so it won't be long. Besides, Vanny apparently being a different person than Vanessa, means we can't exactly apply one's characteristics to the other. With Vanny only having so few lines and cameos in Security Breach, she is basically, completely unknown to us.
So what dialogue we know comes from her, needs to be under even heavy scrutiny for any hints of the personality and characteristics of our new villain.
Before we even start with her dialogue, something interesting has already happened in the preceding events. By finding and resembling the secret tapes and doing exactly what Tape Girl says in the final tape we attain the glitchy Glitchtrap plushie
"There is a way to kill it. It wants to escape. To escape through someone. Someone plugged into this game. That's you now. You have to let it begin the process of leaving through you, then use the disconnect switch that I've embedded by the main stage. Let it approach you. Let it begin to merge with you. Play the music and flip the switch*.* That will cause a hard restart of the game and flush the memory, effectively killing it, I hope. I don't know when it will come for you." -Tape 16
Now, we already know that this does not work at all in the slightest, as this method instead has Glitchtrap trapping and locking you up as he is let out of the game through the player's body that he now has control of. Digital Consciousness Transfer.
Next with the installment of the DLC, we acquire William Afton's old mask from the Corn Maze minigame after finding all four keys and the secret glitchy fifth key and head to the cellar where we discover the mask on a table on a candle.
With both of the items together worn and held respectively, we can hear the secret dialogue and the voice of Vanny for the very first time.
“Yes, I hear you. I know... No. There's no miscommunication... I understand... Yes, I have it. I made it myself. I think you would like it... No, no one suspects anything... Don't worry, I'll be ready, and I won't let you down. It will be fun.”
This means that the event that Vanny met Glitchtrap was, in fact, the ending of Help Wanted where you follow through on Tape Girl's deceptive instructions on digital transferring with Glitchtrap!
But right here, is where a slight problem occurs in the narrative of Vanny's story in the games. Vanny still has control of her body, she's still capable of defying Glitchtrap. Something that's been made clear to me through both Ruin and Help Wanted 2, is that Glitchtrap doesn't control Vanny at all.
Does he influence her? Yes. We see that in the way her costume is directly referencing him and the way she moves and dances.
Does he control her, however, that is where things get shaky. Because at this point in time, there hasn't been a single instance where Vanny is seen as someone being controlled.
Remember, we can't use anything that has to do with Vanessa to show that Vanny is being manipulated or controlled. So where in the new era games can you find Glitchtrap controlling Vanny?
You can't.
Does this mean she's doing this out of her own will? That is something that might've been more nuanced than what we all had perceived. Because I did it again, I've found more stuff! This time it's something important that everyone has missed in Help Wanted and it might well be the true origins of Vanny.
You see the base game of Help Wanted actually has a third ending to it. Or at least something that should be an ending. Besides, just completing all the minigames to get stuffed inside Freddy and following Tape Girl's 16th tape instruction, there's something else you can do that involves Glitchtrap.
That is let Glitchtrap complete the process of leaving through you.
I'm sure some of you are confused by what I'm talking about, but it's the sequence where you press the button and flip the switch, leading to the ending where Glitchtrap locks you up. I'm saying instead of doing that, do nothing and watch what happens next.
A blaring noise could be heard asGlitchtrap stretched his hand out to you. He spoke distortedly and unintelligible, while green cones of energy flowed out from him and toward you. In seconds, Glitchtrap's eyes turned red, the blaring noise increased its volume, and the energy cones became purple while your view became clouded in a purple haze. Soon purple spots began to appear on Glitchtrap's body, as the noise became too loud to your ears, and the energy cones became red as your vision was almost nothing but purple. Soon even Glitchtrap started to disappear into the purple as his body became pixelated by the purple, leaving only his general outline until even that became purple.
Finally, after your purple vision grew flickering bright and the blaring noise ceased, your vision slowly returned to you, accompanied by music and the sound of static from a monitor. (That's the same music that plays if you press the button on the side of the monitor and the static sound you're hearing is specifically from FNAF's 2 game over static.)
At first, your purple view distorted itself with pixels before the purple started to fade slightly as you could see the hub world. But your perspective was wrong, you were staring from the opposite side of where you were sitting, while the place you once stood at was empty.
Your vision, still overlayed with purple while distorted and pixelated, looked down as you brought your hands up. Your hands which were always outlined and seethrough, now looked solid and were covered by gloves of a familiar costume that you were just staring at a couple seconds ago.
As the purple started to overwhelm your distorted and pixelated vision again as you stared at your— Glitchtrap's hands, your mind was finally able to recognize the words that were being spoken to you by him.
"Can you hear me?"
If you want to see this for yourself, then I have two Youtubers that I managed to find, that did this. 99TH VR and 8-bitRyan.
After this, you're taken to the GAME OVER void. But what's unique about this void is that the monitor here never displays any quotes, no matter how many times you do this.
This ending that should've been, along with what "Tape Girl" said before finally reveal what exactly Vanny is.
"—Let it approach you. Let it begin to merge with you. —." -Tape 16
A merger, a fusion of two different beings, that's what Vanny is! This is why I was having so much trouble trying to figure out how Vanny came to be from the two "endings" we get from Help Wanted. The answer is neither of the two. She mostly came from the failed Tape Girl instructions scenario where Glitchtrap completes his merger with someone to get out of the game.
It also explains why we see gigantic Vanny in Help Wanted 2's consequences ending and adds even more reason why an altered EnemyBasic appears on her wall in the AR world! Vanny herself is not infected as we first believed, but rather a fused entity between Glitchtrap and someone else.
With this origin, she would still be able to traverse and interact with things connected to the network if she's plunged into it.
And considering what she's wearing in Security Breach and that the Security Mask and the occipital transponder are a technology that exists now in the current FNAF lore. She has every way she needs to stay connected to the Pizzaplex's network. But let's get back to her dialogue and dissect it.
"Yes, I hear you. I know... No. There's no miscommunication... I understand... Yes, I have it. I made it myself. I think you would like it... No, no one suspects anything... Don't worry, I'll be ready, and I won't let you down. It will be fun.”
We can immediately pinpoint a characteristic of Vanny with the entirety of this dialogue, willing and eager to please. I would also put young in that description, but I don't if it's because she's actually young here or that the voice actress has a bit of a youth tone to their voice.
Anyway, the "Yes, I have it. I made it myself. I think you would like it" part of her dialogue was already analyzed by me before, but let me elaborate on something I've been thinking about.
William's Mask has to be in the current Fazbear Entertainment's possession because the pizzaplex hasn't been built yet or is in the middle of being constructed by the time of Help Wanted's development or release since Cassie herself refers to it as an "old headset game", so the Security Mask isn't around just yet.
What I'm thinking here is that Vanny had come across it sometime to use as a reference for her costume. And make no mistake, Vanny's mask is making a callback to it as it's only a slight redesign and recolor to make it her own. Even Cassie makes notes of Vanny's mask being similar to the Security Mask by how she mistakes them for being the same.
But that doesn't sound right. Vanny wasn't working with Fazbear Entertainment when she met Glitchtrap, just under them through the second development team. Plus, most of the game was developed under a different team until it was in its beta version while Vanny's team had just come in to finish it to release it.
We have already seen what an object created solely by Glitchtrap looks like in Help Wanted in the form of his plushies, so we already know that he didn't recreate the mask in the game.
So maybe I'm thinking about this the wrong way. Both the mask and Grimm Foxy show up in Princess Quest, and we have already established how both important relate to William and Glitchtrap. And both are what are needed to destroy Glitchtrap.
Where did we first see that Mask? Not in the Help Wanted base game but in the Halloween DLC. That means the game was still being worked on even after its release, so Vanny would've had time to model this mask into the game. But why? I think these game-over quotes that show up only in Dreadbear are a clue.

• Report glitches before they spread.
• Don't look behind you.
• It's only a dream.
• Where am I?
• Purging system...

The report glitches quote, easily fits with what Vanny is talking about in with the "No, no one suspects anything." The "Where am I" part is intriguing, but I don't think I can pin that to Vanny. Hmm... I wonder if this is where our Golden Princess comes to be. It's something to look into later.
It's the "Purging system" part that is what I want to focus on here. This provides the needed explanation for things being the way they are now. Glitchtrap, the one that's not merged into Vanny, might've started running rampant during the DLC development, causing either Fazbear Entertainment or Vanny's development team to focus entirely on shutting him down.
The purging of the system might've been their solution for him. This might've worked too if Vanny wasn't already created by the time of the purging. And since Vanny is working under Glitchtrap here, she would've been in the perfect position to take Glitchtrap and everything he contains out of Help Wanted and into a developing game called Princess Quest(Working Title). Though, Vanny might've rushed the job under such circumstances, taking part of The Curse of Dreadbear's code along with Glitchtraps into the new game.
But that's all for now, I'll talk about that more when we get Princess Quest 4.
"I'll be ready, and I won't let you down. It will be fun.” This right here, more than anything, tells us that Vanny is not so much reluctant but more following in the Glitchtrap's order than we all first believed. But we shouldn't be so surprised about it.
Vanny's previous alias, "Reluctant Follwer", didn't come from any of the games, books, or even Scott's website but instead came from voices.com, a website Scott uses to find voice actors. The name is used as a guide for the actor and a descriptor for how the voice should be toned and acted.
The name is an oversimplification of a character for how they're going to sound in the one game they appear in, not all. So the name "Reluctant Follwer" would've only applied to Vanny in this game.
And as we see from Security Breach, Vanny is anything but reluctant to follow Glitchtrap's order. Yet after that game and as of Ruin and HW2, that name might been more appropriate now than it was back then as there appears to be a rift now between the two. But more on that at a later.
One last thing. With this origin in place, we now have another explanation for why we only hear Vanny's side of the conversation and not Glitchtrap's. We are hearing Glitchtrap's side of that conversation, he is her. It's the reason why her voice becomes echoey in her final word, fun.
Now let's finally get into the ties between Vanessa and the villains. Though...
​
Shoot! I made it too big again! Continue on here Part 8.999

I’m 23 and a male. My whole life my father has been “present” in the most minimal way, in my eyes, he’s an absent father. We migrated from our home country to America in 2007, and ever since then my mom has been the one to work and pay all our bills, while he just sits on the couch all day, feeling like he earned this right. He has land/property back home which isn’t even worth more 100k U.S. dollars all together, and says allah granted him this money because he is a “good person”. He feels like his job as a father is complete since he brought us to the “dreamland” America. He wants us to spend money on him until he dies, we aren’t wealthy people, we are poor. To me he is a selfish man blinded by religion. As of the last 2 years, I argue with him, a lot. I say a lot of things that make me guilty, but I tell him his reality, he is not a good father and he is a selfish man. It’s to the point where I’m starting to feel guilty because it causes negative energy in my home for my siblings and mother. He is 64 years old so I don’t expect him to work, but the fact is he NEVER worked and doesn’t want to bring the money from our homeland. He just wants it sit there in the bank for when we all get older, an emergency fund in case no one wants to take care of him no more. He gives donations to his siblings back home when they ask for it, but can’t help his family he lives with. Yesterday he told me during an argument that “allah said kids have to spend money on their father and the father earned that right.” To me he is an entitled leech but at the end of the day, I feel guilty arguing with him.
There is so much pressure on me to support my mother, I love her so much and she works so hard she has 3 jobs, I feel like I have to provide her my entire paychecks and push my future to the side since my dad won’t step up. I want to hear opinions.

I was just wondering what others experiences were regarding learning to unmask?
For reference, I (34f) am at the very beginning of my diagnosis journey (not yet diagnosed)
I went to a family event yesterday (in-laws family), and I felt like my social battery was already very low as soon as we’d arrived. We had a relative staying at our house too, so my safe space had not been safe for a few days 🥲so I don’t think that helped. The drive was long, and there were a few people there who I had only met once. Whilst I knew these people were kind good people, I still found it incredibly draining having any kind of interaction with them. I had no idea what to say to them, didn’t have the energy to mask and was beginning to get so tired I knew I would soon be incapable of masking. So I became really quiet and just watched everyone speak, whilst hating myself, my environment and the entire situation. I snuck off to escape to the bathroom a few times, until eventually I text my husband asking if we could leave soon. Luckily we left shortly after this.
But I felt soooo rude behaving like that. I could not stop thinking what they must think of me, but also I was alarmed by just how exhausted I became so quickly, how I struggled to look anyone in the eye and how I just didn’t have the energy to barely speak even if I wanted to. If I could have run out of the house I really would have. I think it was a shock because this is the first social event I’ve been to since I’ve suspected I’m autistic and I mask. So whilst I’m partly proud of myself for honouring my tiredness and just “shutting down” a bit (although I genuinely felt like I had no control over this reaction at times) it also hit me hard and made me feel really sad.
Like I would have loved to have just said out loud “sorry if I’m being a bit quiet/rude, I’m autistic and I really struggle with this kind of situation. I’m going for a walk”.. or excuse myself to go sit in a room alone with my ear defenders on. I know I could and should be able to do those things, but the thought is terrifying! Especially to people I don’t know. Who aren’t “safe”. Also rather than do any of those things, I would rather just go home or not ever go at all 🫣 (but I know I can’t live my life like that).
So yeah TL;DR, how did you learn to unmask in a comfortable, safe way that worked best for you?

Hi all! I’m extremely cautious about pits but I’m curious about the dangers of cross breeds. I’m a PhD student and my advisor has a big mix. He’s got some American bulldog in him. He’s a big barrel shaped dog (not fat but also doesn’t have the muscular build of bullies). You can see the bully in the shape of his eyes and his head is a bit broad, but to the untrained eye he can definitely pass for an English lab mix. And this dog is so sweet. I don’t know if I’m just blinded by how much I like this dog but my gut hasn’t indicated to me that I should be cautious with me.
He never pulls hard on his leash, even when he’s excited. He’s not reactive to people or other dogs (I’ve never seen him react to other animals). He’s very very mellow and low-energy. He’s gentle, leaning on your when you pet him, readily rolling over to expose his belly. When he’s happy to see you, he trots up slowly with a tail wag. No face licking, no barking, no jumping. He is not motivated by food or toys and I’ve never seen any resource guarding behavior as a result. For all of these reasons, I do not feel that I need to be cautious around this dog any more than I would with a non-pit breed (I think respect and caution should be given to all dogs; i.e., don’t treat a dog like a human or toy, back off if a dog bears its teeth or growls, learn dog body language and respect it regardless of breed or size).
But I’m sure many, many people have felt the same way about specific pits and pit mixes and believed they’d know if this specific dog was a risk, only to end up getting bitten. But maybe I’m not giving myself enough credit (or moreso giving the pit bull fandom too much credit) and I can trust my gut. What do you guys think? Have you met pit mixes you trust as much as other dogs? Am I being foolish by letting my guard down around this dog?

When my oldest was 2.5-3.5, he was a full blown two/threenager. Our sweet, adorable, mild mannered baby/young toddler became a different person during that yr.
Since then he has calmed down significantly, in a large part bc I focused a ton of energy into different techniques to help him adjust to being a big brother and also bc he simply “calmed” down as he got older.
My SIL was mentioning how grown-up he’s become. She brought up the time that he had a meltdown at her house. He had an accident - pee’d on the floor in her bathroom, then mentioned how he nearly took her daughter’s eye out bc he threw a fork and then knicked her table. She let me know that her table has no defects, except for that knick.
We were mortified after that night, made sure to clean his accident and profusely apologized.
She made me feel absolutely awful and judged. She has never invited us back since except if it’s for a family function.
It is really bothering me and i’m trying to let it go. But dang it feels awful to hear that and feel like my child was being judged unfairly.

"and the detective had solved the case once again" I wrote, the ink sinked into the paper forming the conclusion of my book.
I placed the book consisting of smooth leather and ruff medieval like paper onto a shelf.
The shelf screamed as it appeared to be in pain combined with several throbs and shakes the shelf made in an attempt to regain balance.
I sat on the wet carpet, moisture sunk into my jeans causing them to feel cold and make my legs itchy.
"I thought as I snatched a half empty water bottle, drinking the disgusting sink favored water".
I traversed through the endless void filled with darkness, until a rattle was heard from beneath my feet, looking down on the ground I found a paper, I noticed several cuts on the edges of the paper, I assumed the page belonged to a book.
"Jackson reeled the great equalizer from the seemingly endless seas, he welded the weapon with excitement, he'd finally acquired his goal, no longer would the corrupt kings empire reign supreme, a society in the public's image." I said as I read the paper.
Unfortunately the page ended leaving me with a cliffhanger while simultaneously granting little to no context for the overall story.
I suddenly noticed light in the distance, I curiously approached the light as I hadn't found any light in a while.
My shoes gathered mud as I dragged them through the new terrain eventually reaching a village, it's houses appeared to consist of mud, sticks, gravel, and a few bricks.
I found another page of the book from earlier.
" Farmer Jackson got out of his bed causing a loud squeak from the wooden floors, he began peacefully watering his crops with his family, until a knight burned down all his crops and slaughtered his family, he then sore to claim his revenge, first he'd kill that knight, then he'd kill the king and then society would no longer be ran by a king or queen but by the public." I read aloud.
"This must be the beginning of the book," I thought.
Suddenly a man ran towards me with a sword, he appeared to have a black coat with a yellow stripe, he had a number on his left arm, 64 was the number, it has a green glow to it illuminating his arm, not to noticeable but you could still see a small green circle.
I immediately dashed away, "who are you," he said as he continued chasing me, I continued running until I found an exit from the village, although It'd be nice having a place where I could store my books, lay down anywhere but the wet carpet, and almost never have to deal with threats of any kind, I wasn't going to risk getting brutally mutilated by a guy with a sword.
My running posture became one of a chicken.
"But I'm no chicken, I'm detective Jones Joseph," I thought already thinking about what words I could throw into my continuation of my previous book next.
I was now standing in cold wet carpet once more, I hoped that the next "room," or at least that's what I call them, wasn't full of wet carpet but unfortunately I'm stuck dipping my feet into dirty carpet water.
The swarming of flies could be heard as I wandered around aimlessly attempting to escape the wet carpet I dreaded.
I sprinted as fast as possible imagining that guy could still be chasing me.
Although this was delusional, after all I ran into complete darkness and continued through this vision-less void in hopes of finding another land with the warm sun beaming and some decent resources.
Maybe I could get a bed to lay on instead of laying on the carpet, the carpet was extremely itchy, so I spent a lot of time scratching myself instead of sleeping.
Feeling very exhausted I decided to close my eyes and rest for a bit eventually falling asleep.

https://youtu.be/kbwSFOqzKMY?si=wPvkKCr_guICbJaJ
https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/benfolds/losinglisa.html
Hello everyone, I hope all is well. Today we are going to be taking a closer look/listen at the song “Losing Lisa” which is the seventh track from Ben’s first solo album Rockin’ the Suburbs.
There’s a couple of songs on this album, including this one, where I feel like they have hints of sounds from the 50’s/60’s despite them being written and released in the early 2000’s. The song starts with this harpsichord sounding keyboard playing a bright G major chord. This intro is cut off with a drum hit and then Ben switching to a normal piano and vocals.
Lyrically, this is song is about the unraveling of a relationship between the character Ben is singing from and his partner named Lisa. Ben sings “she's so sensitive, this shit just happens sometimes.” It seems like Ben is singing this song through the perspective of a typical male who’s blaming the ending of a relationship on the other person. He’s saying how she’s overly sensitive but then in the next line is saying how she’s his “everything” and how she’s his best friend. It’s maybe a little ironic how this song was the only song on that album cowritten by Ben’s at the time wife Frally Hynes.
During this first verse we get some other instruments gradually being added to the mix. First there’s some light percussion, some subtle acoustic guitars and some great bass fills which gives me Beach Boy vibes. And then lyrically, Ben does this smart move where he ends the verse with the lyric “we don't do anything we didn't do the day….” and then starts the pre chorus with the lyric “before you go, you ought to know.” This is great because the word “before” is used as a transitional word between the verse and pre chorus and it’s clever in a way you might not notice on a first listen.
The pre chorus is a nice way to slow things down before we get to the chorus. The move from the E minor chord to E flat chord is smooth and lyrically we have Ben’s character pleading to Lisa that he didn’t mean to hurt her which is a human cliche as old as time. As we move into the chorus we get the drums and piano ramping up in energy on the D major chord to give us the push we need for the chorus.
For me, the chorus is the hook of this song. It’s all fairly simple but it’s so goddamn catchy no matter how many times I hear it. The chorus has such a breezy flow to it as Ben’s singing about heartache with the lyric “black tears are falling down her face and I am wrong.” I’ve always interpreted the black tears being mascara running down Lisa’s face as she is crying. And even though this character understands he’s in the wrong, he’s still complaining that Lisa won’t tell him what he did that was wrong. Maybe the most devastating line is when Ben sings “she’s sitting here beside me then she is gone.” Even though she physically there with him, mentally she’s already checked out. The chorus ends with Ben’s catchy harmonies as he sings “black tears are falling, falling.”
The second verse begins with full instrumentation which adds nice dynamics to the song. This time around, Ben’s character is reminiscing of a time where things were simpler with Lisa and himself. He speaks of loving times when they were laughing and things were simpler. But now she’s no longer happy and he no longer feels anything. And in the pre chorus, instead of the male character listening to what his partner is saying, he’s fixated on her face instead. “I am mesmerized, by tiny lines. I'm watching as the shapes are drawing slowly from her eyes.”
We get another chorus which sounds just as great as the first one. Another reason I love the pre chorus is the movement of the chords after each lyric. Ben plays a B flat, C and a D minor chord which he walks up and then back down again. It’s one element of the chorus that makes the whole song so catchy. That and some of Ben’s vocal melodies really remind me of the Beach Boys, especially the runs that move down in pitch.
After the second chorus the song brings it down in volume as we enter into the bridge. The piano and drums are more delicate as Ben sings the title of the song three times. It’s almost as if he’s finally realizing that he’s lost Lisa and he admits that “there’s nothing I can do.” And it’s right during this realization where the instruments start building up in energy to bring us to the instrumental section. I wouldn’t call it a solo necessarily as none of the instruments really play a full on solo (although Ben does play some tasty licks). Instead we actually get a lot of space where the instruments can breathe. My favorite parts is when you can hear the electric guitars play a couple of old timey strums.
Then the song ends on an outro which a different variation of chords than the chorus. Ben sings “black tears are falling, falling” as he also provides his own backing vocals singing “ahh.” It’s a great little jam section that eventually ends on a B flat/F chord and some tambourine action.
When it comes to this album, this is one of my favorite underrated songs from it. It’s not as flashy as the title track, nor does it have the beauty of a song like “Carrying Cathy.” But it’s just one of those songs that flows effortless and can stuck in your head in a non annoying way. It’s fun to single along to and easy to follow; it’s basically a song where a relationship falls apart because one person is not only ignorant to the signs, but also does nothing to solve any of the problems. It’s a song that was played live on most nights on Ben’s What Matters Most tour. I was ecstatic to hear it and I think Ben’s backing band plus Talk Heights made this song better than it would have been with just Ben and his piano.
But what do you think about this song? Is it an underrated song from Rockin’ the Suburbs? What do you think the song is about? Favorite lyrical or musical moments? And did you ever catch it live?

the TLDR is that my wonderful husband is struggling with PPD and his depression frustrates me. i'm the asshole. i'm just venting here.
we have a beautiful 12 week old boy. my pregnancy was easy, and while my labor was induced, my delivery was easy. our son is pretty easy. don't get me wrong, the first few weeks were ROUGH while we struggle bussed through figuring things out, but since then we've gotten into a fairly consistent routine.
we're both on antidepressants. i was really worried about getting PPD because my mental health has been notoriously bad throughout my adult life, and i hit a pretty bad depressive episode right before getting pregnant. i went off my meds throughout my pregnancy and felt pretty good. since having our son, i honestly feel stable. i don't think pregnancy "fixed" me by any means, but i feel better. my husband, on the other hand, is clearly struggling. he is a WONDERFUL father to our son, and i trust him 100%. he is doing an awesome job and picks up a lot of the soothing and caretaking so i can pump (i've been exclusively pumping for about 6 weeks now, which means i pump every two hours throughout a 24 hour period). our son loves him and arguably prefers him over me. any time my husband isn't holding him, he tracks him with his eyes nonstop. he LOVES his dad, and his dad loves him. it makes me a little jealous sometimes, but then i think of the kind of dads we have and i think how lucky our son is to experience having such a doting father.
with all of those wonderful things to the side, my husband is so. fucking. moody. the smallest thing will flip him, and he is so quick to anger. his default is anger, honestly. and he just shutdowns. he stops speaking, withdraws completely, and i end up feeling like i have to really compensate in those moments. which, obviously a good spouse should, because i know my husband is having a hard time and going through it.
but i'm so frustrated by it. i'm so frustrated by his negativity and his doom and gloom and his dark and twisty energy oozing through our house. we're both healthy. our son is healthy. all of our pets are healthy. we own our house, and while it requires maintenance and work, it's in good condition. our car is newer and isn't falling apart. my husband loves his job, and he's been home with me since a week before i gave birth. i just got a fully remote WFH position that will help out a little financially. like, life is PRETTY GOOD. i know that depression isn't a rational thing that you can just think away, i know that. i know meds can only do so much. But he's in weekly therapy, and sometimes i wonder what they even work on.
he's just going through all of this on hard mode. i think he's been on hard mode for years, and i wish he could figure something out. i personally think he has undiagnosed ADHD, and until that's treated his anxiety is going to continue fueling his depression. but i'm no doctor, and it's not like i can force feed him adderall. he just seems like he's one solid bad day away from spiraling at this point, and underneath my frustration i'm just worried about him.

I forfeit everything I have to you my king...
ALL MY LIFE I THOUGHT MANGA HAD ALREADY ACHIEVED GREATNESS
BUT I WAS WRONG
BECAUSE THE ONLY REASON WHY I COULD NEVER FIND PEAK MANGA WAS SIMPLY BECAUSE HOKAZONO HADN'T TOUCHED THE PEN YET
FOR HE TRANSCENDS THE TITLE OF THE GOAT
FOR HE DID NOT MEET OUR STANDARDS
FOR HE CREATED A NEW ONE WITH HIS NAME WRITTEN ON THE STONE
We knew Hakuri must've had the storehouse because of how the pliers Soya stole just appeared out of thin air, but this reveal gave me new energy not even a perc 30 could give me.
This image has no right to go this hard. This shit was so hard, I had to change the music I was blasting to match his aura.
And the explanation for why he could never use Isou was super interesting. Being unable to use his families Isou because of him unknowingly maintaining his own storehouse works for me because it creates this balance between when he'd want to utilize Isou or use the storehouse at any given moment. Not being able to manipulate them both at once keeps him from becoming too OP.
The sauce that brought a tear to my eye however was Hakuri reflecting on his time with the girl with icy skin.
https://preview.redd.it/upvsh047kk5d1.png?width=666&format=png&auto=webp&s=af4e679d708cb8f86df6623ac47b7d6b87db6e5f
As Hakuri frees himself from the cage, he's able to truly appreciate how the mysterious woman positively impacted his life and how he could've showed her the hope of a good life outside of her cage. Although, he is candid enough to know that the outcome might've remained the same despite his efforts.
I hope the girl could watch this in heaven...
I have no words that can articulate the meaning behind this victory. There ain't words in the English dictionary that explain the way I feel about this moment. It's like watching an exhausted man tear himself from the grips of his most hideous, most inconceivable demons imaginable with nothing but their indomitable human spirit and stand above them with his head held high.
Hokazono, my heart is yours.
This will definitely scar him a bit.
Okay, this looks like some really important character development for Chihiro. He knew that Tenri was going to die, yet we've never seen him look this shaken by a death since his fathers. I think we can all say that Chihiro saw himself in Tenri. Both of them have fathers who are titans in their industries, both want to do right by their names, and will do anything to make them proud. But at the end of the day, both were fighting for opposing goals, and Chihiro was the only one left standing.
I wonder why he looks so taken aback like this. My best guess is that it feels like seeing himself die. Chihiro has taken the path of revenge and will do nearly anything to get the enchanted blades back, so a future such as this may not be too far from reality. Or maybe it's because he feels like one of the Hishaku in a way. Tenri, a person who wanted nothing but to support his father's legacy dies for his cause, much like Kunishige did when he made the enchanted blades.
I don't know how Chihiro feels and why, but I am excited to see how this could change Chihiro.
AND IN CONCLUSION...
Save Shonen Jump, Hokazono.

I never post on reddit.
I dated the sweetest girl in the world on and off for the last seven years, and she's finally done with me. I love her more than anything or anyone in the world, but for seven years I've constantly resisted it and pulled away because I was scared of the kind of love I had for her. I was scared of how it impacted my ability to life my life the way I wanted to for so long, and I was unwilling to sacrifice that life for her. I'd leave her and go live in LA, NYC, New Hampshire, or go on an eight month backpacking trip like I did last year. I'd always go back to her, because deep down I've always known I can't live without her.
She never let me go, until now. She waited patiently for me to love her the way she deserved, but I think I got there too late. She finally said she wanted to move on in late April, and my body shut down. I can't sleep more than five or six hours a night, I can't eat, I have stomach problems every day, and I have no drive, motivation or energy to do anything. I've been trying my absolute hardest since then to make up for seven years of hurt I've caused her, but I'm realizing it's probably just not possible.
I know her better than just about anyone, and I can see in her eyes and expressions when I say the things I've been saying recently that she's a lot more torn with whether or not to forgive me and let me in one more time than she lets on. But she insists at the very least she can't date anyone right now and I have to respect that. I'm going to say goodbye to her on Wednesday and leave her alone, and it's gonna be the hardest thing I've ever done.
This post is damage control, like other things I've been doing (talking to friends and family, looking into therapy etc). I'm in a very, very bad place and I don't want it to get any worse, and the worst part by far is that this is all my fault and it was completely preventable. If anyone has any advice or wants to comment on what I just said, or just mercilessly grill me for being a piece of shit, I'd really, truly appreciate it.

Synopsis: Markus is summoned from Earth by evil beings looking for a 'weak and primitive' creature to use as sacrificial entertainment. What they got instead was a human. Immediately after arriving, Markus awakens to an ability so rare, so powerful that it makes every god on Firellia desperate to recruit him as their new champion.
Learning to control his innate mastery over mana, Markus will devour the very essence of any monster, demon, or god that dares get in his way, determined to never lose his freedom again.
——
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Markus felt the air slicing right past his shoulder, but the blade never made contact. With an explosion of pain and power, he forced the goblins away with intangible, spiritual force, a white-blue energy emanating from him as he clutched his axe hard, fresh blood leaking onto the handle.
[Mana Capacity at 366%. Overcharge, E Grade is in effect. Growth increased. All physical stats temporarily increased by 75. Physical damage resistance increased.]
[Mana Poisoning II is in effect.]
He stared out at the five targets before him, all of them frozen, inert, watching to see what he’d do next. The injured sword user still stared dead at him, but it wasn’t just hatred in his eyes, no. Not anymore.
There was another feeling in there, one that grew with each passing moment as Markus began to close the distance between them. Now it was his turn to advance, theirs to shy away, to back up, to brandish their weapons wildly in an attempt to deter his hellmarch.
Markus had started off limping, but he soon managed to stand tall. His injuries barely affected him in this state. They still hurt, they still throbbed, they still itched and burned beneath his skin, but the pleasant, stimulating, thrumming warmth of mana flowed through him at full tilt, guiding his motions and giving him clarity of vision, confidence in his gait.
His heavy, deliberate steps crushed the sand below. He was no larger than life, yet a monster of gargantuan proportions in the face of these pitiable beasts.
They swung and stabbed forth with such forlorn intensity, such maddening whines. They sensed the danger, backing up continually even as they continued to try and keep Markus at bay, huddling in a tenuous attempt at a battle formation.
None of this deterred Markus. He could see their attacks for what they were now. Untrained. They’d used their weapons far more than he ever had, yes, but they were still clumsy. Slower than he’d been with the glaive. Moving aside to dodge a sword swing or the poke of a spear was rudimentary at this point. Almost effortless.
Still, dealing at four weapons thrusting in his direction at once was still difficult. When another rock sailed past his head, this one just barely missing due to a split-second reaction, he instinctively responded, chucking the hand axe straight at the far off goblin with the slingshot.
His weapon travelled about ten feet before embedding itself directly in the creature’s chest.
He fell in an instant. There would be no survival, no miraculous return to his feet. One strike was all it took.
He’d given up his weapon. It didn’t matter. Markus had a thousand other ways to make the remainders’ defenses crack.
Shield user was heading up the middle of their formation, which made the most sense, the two polearm users standing at either side a small distance behind and continually thrusting with their spears. The four of them were stood in something almost akin to a V formation, the leader pressing his right arm into the chest of the goblin beside him and encouraging them to keep backing up.
Markus attempted to draw out the Flame Mana within his body. He was still clumsy, still having difficulty with selecting specific mana types to use, and when he attempted to focus his Flame Mana on a point and ignite one of the specific goblins, he found that having a point in Pyromancy didn’t just give him the power to spontaneously combust things.
Well, at least not yet.
So Markus settled for a different method. He attempted to use Manifest for the first time, drawing the Spirit Mana out of his body and attempting to form it into a shape, something long and sharp, resembling a blade or a stick or a poker, an instrument he could use to break up their formation, to make himself an opening. He continued to visualise as he walked, imagining his desired extension of Spirit as best he possibly could and attempting to bring it into the waiting world.
When the object first began to form within his hand, he found it to lack a handle, a shape, a curve, any delineating feature that might mark it as a distinct object, that might give it purpose. As it stood, the object looked something akin to a plain blue quarterstaff, its shape uniform as it lengthened, its colour a consistent, shimmering blue all the way along, complete with white rings that circled its length over and over as it continued to grow in length.
Markus shifted his focus over to Empower. He gave the makeshift weapon a test swing as he began to coat the surface of the ethereal staff in an orange glow, markings both spreading and radiating in each direction of the conjured weapon and warming Markus’ hands. It felt light in his hands, lighter than a baseball bat. Lighter than his glaive. Attunement didn’t apply here. This weapon was an extension of him. He understood how it moved.
There was a collective ‘what the fuck’ on the face of the goblins. They stood their ground, weapons stilled, ready to deflect his strikes as in the background, the announcer went through his latest bout of losing his damn mind at the spectacle unfolding before him.
The crowd seemed to have changed their tune. The cheers and cries of excitement from above were overwhelming—Markus put them out of mind. Stored them for later. Removed them from his focus.
All that mattered now was advancing. Surviving. Winning while he still had mana to spend.
Markus swung forwards with all of his might. Sparks and licks of flame alike danced through the stifling air, roaring upwards as his weapon collided with the middle goblin’s shield, staggering him and shaking all four of them in turn.
He could feel the reverberation coursing through him, but he stayed the course, retracting the weapon and reengaging with a lunging thrust, one leg extended, power and momentum coalescing even as he focussed the tip of his conjured staff into a red-hot tip.
The sparks that flew as the staff collided served as ample kindling, the wooden shield on the goblin’s arm catching flame. He waved his arm madly as he struggled to detach the large slab of wood from his arm, disrupting his comrades as Markus swung forth again, smacking the same goblin again in his sword arm and causing him to drop his weapon, staggering backwards and howling as the flames along the shield continued to spread, threatening to melt his flesh any moment as still he fought to detach it with no arms to do so.
Markus stared at the spreading flame, feeling intention rising within his body as he focussed the same energy he could feel dissipating from the staff after his second strike, retaining the feeling while he still recognised it and aiming it directly at his last point of impact.
The rate of the spreading flames doubled, a roar erupting from the shield as the wood split and frayed, the goblin screaming and throwing himself to the sand below, desperately attempting to douse his shield.
Markus ran forwards the moment their formation was broken. He focussed the leftmost goblin first, this one with a poleaxe, smashing the long staff into its side and then uppercuting the goblin’s chin with the staff’s backend, closing the gap between them in moments and sending the monster flying.
Markus felt a spear strike him in the right arm once more, and immediately felt the weapon he held in his hands dissipate.
Earlier, he might’ve panicked. Now, he grabbed the wooden pole sticking out of his arm before it could be retracted and snapped it in half.
A speartip embedded in his right arm, at least three other stab wounds littering his body, various cuts and scrapes and bruises forming even as he continued to defiantly march forwards, the glowing aura still pulsating and bleeding through his pores even as he bled into the sand, Markus must’ve looked like a fucking nightmare.
He felt like one. He didn’t take pleasure in the suffering of the goblins, but he almost wanted the fuckers to get back up. He wanted to show what came of taking him so lightly.
What he did to every goblin here today, the lengths he’d go to in order to win this, he wanted that to echo through the minds of every sick, terrible creature that thought to torture or torment him, a reminder that while so many might dwarf his power, while so many might make him look weak and helpless now, he would only grow stronger, and he would only get better.
And while Markus survived each horrific encounter he was thrust into, while he learned from his mistakes and devoured his enemies and consolidated his strength, he’d remember the ones who put him here…
And they’d be lucky if they weren’t [Devoured] next.
Markus punched the goblin to his right, swinging a left in a narrow arc. He heard a crunch, watching the goblin hit the floor as Markus adopted a boxing stance, left foot behind him.
He felt weird strange unorthodox, but even with the regeneration and pain reduction flowing through him from Overcharge, he’d still been stabbed in his right arm twice. He couldn’t rely on it for power now, so he was a southpaw until further notice.
That was fine. There was such power even behind his lefts right now that he floored these creatures with almost every strike. Overcharge was no fucking joke.
Not only that, but as Markus swung for shield goblin, who’d finally sprang to his feet and charged him, left arm looking slightly mangled, he realised that his fluidity of movement was only increasing the more time he spent on throwing these punches. He was improving as he went, adjusting to the change in his agility, tanking yet another grazing slash against his torso before kneeing the offending goblin in the face, sending the creature flying back to the dirt.
Pain exploded from his right leg as soon as he did so, and he had to fight to remain balance. He took a couple more slashes as once again he focussed power into his punches and concentrated on trying to take the creatures down, but the more he attempted to repeat the process, the more they kept getting back up, and the more Markus began to wonder what would wear down first at this rate, the four enemies he was fighting or his mana reserves?
He could take more punishment, but he needed to be able to give some back out. A good thrust from one of these goblins could still be lethal, and even if they were a lot slower than him, it was difficult to dodge multiple attacks at once when stood around sand.
Markus decided to change his approach, attempting to coat his knuckles in mana. Manifest created small protrusions at the end of his knuckles as he poured focus into the prospect. They weren’t spikes, he apparently couldn’t be so exact yet, but they at the very least seemed solid.
When he punched with them, he’d expected it to hurt pretty badly, but if anything, it cushioned the blow against what were surely broken knuckles by now. More than that, however, was the effect, a concussive blow that seemed to knock the first goblin he struck silly, allowing for an easy follow-up, and then allowed Markus to take the second one out with a single punch to the chin.
Two down, looking they wouldn’t get up for a minute, Markus singled out a third, the goblin with the burnt, broken shield, charing him and piledriving him to the ground.
He ignored the uncomfortable crunch below him as he drove his fingers into the goblin’s neck, choking and stabbing his fingers into his flesh simultaneously as the creature latched on and attempted to throttle him in turn, claws scratching in final, fitful jolts as the life was forced from his eyes.
Markus managed to drain a little from him and activate [Devour] before he returned to his feet, having only spent moments executing the creature.
As the new power flowed into him, Markus felt a stick smash against the back of his neck. He gasped, sucking air through his teeth as he turned to find the sorry culprit.
It was the goblin whose spear he broke earlier, the one whose metal tip was still embedded in his arm. Markus stared at him. Raised a finger at him, as if he were about to reprimand a child.
Then Markus punched him. The creature once again went flying backwards as Markus continued to rub his pained neck.
It was almost laughable, but this one minor injury hurt more than any of the others. Maybe it was because he hadn’t expected it. Maybe because he’d discounted that goblin from the fight already, disarmed and seemingly out cold.
The other two were still rising to their feet. One the leader, still injured, the other the poleaxe user, using his weapon to help raise himself to his unsteady feet.
He thought Overcharge would make this fight easy. He thought this fight was meant to be easy in general. A showcase of power. More like a showcase of struggle. Overcharge might’ve turned the fight in his favour, but each second of this battle was grueling, even with many of the enemies dead or out of commission.
And these things were pretty relentless. He almost respected the drive these things had to keep going, to stand up over and over no matter how many times he put them down. They must’ve been hoping they could wear him out eventually. He wasn’t gonna let that happen, though. Not while he still had a say in things. All he needed to do was single another one of them out and—
Poleaxe swung past his face, almost giving him a triple-close shave. This weapon looked sharper and shinier than the other gear the goblins boasted, and he didn’t wanna get nicked by the blade, so Markus attempted to once again yank the weapon away from the offending goblin, placing both hands on the pole, but the creature pulled back with such force that it threw itself back to the floor, causing the weapon to slip from Markus’ grip and cut both of his palms on the way out.
The goblin barreled back with his momentum, rolling, but before he could find his feet again, Markus was behind him. A kick to its head pushed it back into the sand, and two more kicks followed by a single stamp solidified the goblin’s defeat.
As Markus turned to face the leader, the goblin kicked sand in his face.
He was immediately blinded, unable to defend himself as the goblin stabbed him directly in the thigh with his short sword and immediately barreled into him, driving him to the ground and pounding his head against the floor beneath repeatedly, biting a chunk of flesh from his cheek as it dug its fingers into his neck, intent on crushing the life out of him once and for all.
This was fucked. He was going to die. He’d made one fucking slip-up and he was going to die! Markus kicked and thrashed with all of his might, but it was all too soon ebbing, and with the size of the creature and its pressure on his chest his legs couldn’t find any purchase. He attempted to move his arms up, to find a spot to drain the goblin from, but he wasn’t going to be able to drain the thing faster than it choked him out.
Markus attempted to wrap his arms around its back, to simply crush it with his enhanced strength, but even when he squeezed with all of the death-defying strength he could conjure, he could barely do more than force a strangled crunch! from the goblin’s ribs.
He needed to break its grip. His thoughts were slowly fading. He needed to break its…
He bit the creature right back, right on its chin, causing it to flinch back just long enough that he could snake his right arm from where it was pinned and grab its left with both his slippery, bleeding hands. He attempted to prize its hands apart, but its focus was too great, its determination too single-minded to give up its endeavour even as he pulled it from his neck with all of its might…
He barely got seconds of breath, only able to break its hold for moments at a time, his neck raw, his gasps pained, laboured, and above all infrequent.
If he couldn’t stop it from grabbing him again every time he pushed its arm away…
Then he’d have to take its arm.
Markus focussed as much of his mana as he still could into his bleeding hands, seeking a means to pierce the goblin’s arm. His world slowed as he desperately attempted to coat his hands in energy, to bolster his grip, to pinpoint an area around the elbow that would allow him to pull at full force without slipping, without allowing the strength to fade from him entirely…
Markus closed his eyes. He was playing tug of war for his life, heart, and soul. Everything he’d ever known and cared about were on the line. Dreams, thoughts, wishes, emotions, all of them drifted by in the miasma of intangible nothingness that gently beckoned him past the epoch, that told him to let go, that told him he didn’t need to worry and fight anymore, that he’d bled enough, that this next breath could be his last…
Markus pulled. He pulled with the scream spilling out from his soul, for his lungs couldn’t carry it, with a bellow that shook the foundations of peace, for even in strangled silence, his spirit was unfathomably loud.
And the world trembled. Heaven’s gates closed. He tugged with all of his might, and above him, Markus heard a sickening snap.
His body flung back into the sand the moment the goblin’s arm dislodged. It stared at him in abject horror, attempting to move its dangling appendage, but seeing an opportunity, Markus moved faster, took advantage of its distraction, forcing the goblin off of his chest and smashing it into the floor.
It attempted to swing for him, but he beat it with more intensity than it could muster, his heart a war drum, lungs igniting with sulfuric heat as he gasped and panted for breath, his very existence a testament to the will of man.
He beat and smashed the goblin with his fists, even through the pain of his broken knuckles, but when the fucker still wouldn’t die despite his many concurrent blows, when it still attempted to claw and bite at him with every spasmic motion of its beaten body, Markus ripped the flailing arm from its side and drove the appendage into his face, able to use his full strength now that his body wasn’t the conduit, smashing the goblin with its own arm over and over in a fervent expression of vitriolic irony, for they’d sent him here unarmed, and now he was very much armed indeed.
The death gasps of the goblin leader were punctuated by bludgeoning strikes from its own broken, mangled, severed arm. Markus leant over him, body littered in wounds, looking as if he might die or ascend to Valhalla at any moment, as the crowd clapped and cheered and roared in satisfaction.
“Yeah?” Markus coughed the word out. He could barely speak. His voice was only scarcely being held together by the tendrils of overwhelming mana. “You like that, you sick fucks?!”
He raised himself to a sitting position, bathed in crimson, looking over the battlefield, staring out at what he’d done.
There was a chance he’d die to these injuries. Even Regeneration surely had its limits. He stuck his fingers to the throat of the dead goblin beneath him, attempting to drain some residual mana from his body, poisoning be damned. He hoped he could at least get something to stem the tide of his many wounds. He [Devoured] the creature’s core, too, just to be thorough.
His focus was broken by the sound of the final goblin scurrying up beside him. It was the one whose spear he’d broken. The one he simply punched away earlier.
It stood holding a short sword, one he must’ve picked up from one of his dead comrades.
He looked at Markus. He poised his body, as if he were ready to strike.
Markus simply stared at him, raising the dead goblin’s arm as he did so.
The little goblin held that position for roughly three seconds, not moving even a single inch, Markus doing the exact same.
It dropped the sword, then ran as far as it could in the opposite direction, crouching and covering its head with its hands as the crowd laughed and jeered.
Markus sighed a laboured breath as the announcer took over, his complete victory having been finally declared for all the rabid, screaming onlookers above.
Good thing he looked so terrifying right now. He was pretty sure one good hit would’ve been all he needed to do him in for good.
Hell, even a bad hit probably would’ve done the trick at this point.
He saw a digital image of himself projected up high, though he could barely make it out through the blurring of his eyes.
He looked as if someone had painted half his body red. He felt as if he’d been ran through a woodchipper.
If I survive my injuries, I’d better get a fucking good reward for this.
Markus would survive his injuries. And he would get a fucking good reward.
//
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A/N: Hey! Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed, and that you enjoy what comes next! What do you think Markus needs most in his situation, besides a way home? I'm curious!
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Before I start, I plan on talking with her about this…but I want to see if anyone else has any experience with something of this nature. It’s the first time I’ve ever had to deal with it and would love some guidance.
My (33m) friend (32f) and I went to a concert last night. I was the DD, as she is a person who enjoys partaking in alcohol and weed/shrooms (I don’t do drugs and I only have a drink here and there on special occasions - I don’t judge her for what she does). I have known her for a few years and we have a great friendship, which is strictly platonic on both sides. I also know (and I believe she half-acknowledges) she has some substance abuse issues. I won’t go into too much detail but it’s been talked about and she has gotten some help in the past, but I don’t believe she is currently getting any.
I have been around her when she has been brownout drunk before, which always causes her personality to get a bit more giddy and giggly and express generally positive things. However, I had never seen her blackout drunk…and she had warned me in the past that she has been told she gets mean when she’s blackout drunk. She does mean things, says mean things, and always feels awful about it the next day when she hears about what she said/did.
Last night, I was given the oh-so-fortunate gift of experiencing both of her drunk states. I also know she was incredibly stoned and may have been microdosing shrooms, so she clearly wasn’t fully “present.” We were also on the flooin the pit for the show, as that matters for context. Now, with all of that info out of the way:
When she was in her brownout state, and maybe even her blackout state at one point, she was smiling, dancing, saying positive things to me (I love you [we have said this to each other plenty of times before in a friendship way], this is incredible, etc), being a bit touchy (I think to also help her ground herself and to have someone to dance with), things like that. However, at some point something turned. She started to feel like “bad energy was around us” (which there wasn’t), her posture totally changed to being very small and closed off and self contained. She dipped in and out of that state for a while, and at one point I lightly put my hand on her upper back to get her attention so I could lean in and tell her something about the song being played. She looked me dead in the eyes and said, with a level of disgust I’d never seen from her, “Don’t touch me, fuck. I don’t fucking like you.” She then took a step away from me. She then started to act more “normal” not too long after and then at another point, with me just standing there, she said “You’re too fucking close. Can you fucking move away?” In which I told her, “I literally have no space to go anywhere.” She just shook her head and said, “Fine, whatever.” She started to be a bit more normal for just a moment until she turned again and wanted to leave.
She would semi-dance to a song, then halfway through another she would say she wanted to go home. I dismissed it the first few times until she said it in a more “scared” voice. Having never really been around someone who uses substances the way she does, I don’t have much experience with what the stages of these things are like. Acknowledging that lack of experience and treating her comment seriously (in case she was in a bad state because of things), I told her we could go. She grabbed my hand and held on with a death grip as I guided her out of the venue. There wasn’t much time left for the concert, but I obviously wish I could have seen the end of the show. I’d been looking forward to it for a while.
Once we were in parking lot, her mood changed to more calm. She was zig zagging all over as we walked, which made me realize just how drunk she was…and that it was, by far, the most drunk I’d ever seen her. I got her safely into my car, which is when she promptly fell asleep. I drove her home and made sure she made it inside her front door safely before I went back to my place.
The thing that is bugging me is the complete contrast in how she treated me, and if one emotional response was more authentic than the other. The whiplash of being told “I love you” to “I don’t fucking like you” in a matter of minutes is making me wonder which was how she actually felt. If she meant “I don’t fucking like you” in the romantic sense, then that’s fine - it’s mutual. Great friend, would never work as a relationship, so we’re good there. But it was just the way in which it was said and the look in her eyes when she said it that has me wondering if there was anything more to it than that…if there is actual disdain somewhere, you know?
For those that have dealt with people who are under the influence of things to varying degrees, what has been your experience? Have you dealt with someone who is so flippant with the way in which they talk to you? Is there a way to tell what is actually true?
Again, I plan on bringing up what happened with her in a respectful way (more holding up a mirror and letting her know what was said, not with the intent of making her feel guilty) and would also love any advice on a good way to handle that.
TL;DR: Friend was drunk and high, said conflicting things while under the influence towards me and I’m unsure which was authentic.
Edit: grammar

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
"That... Would certainly be appreciated. She's just outside."
And so, the two aspects of Atrosa, Logos and Celia, exit the medbay and fix up Chaos Meld, bringing it into proper working condition.
Max: "Ready for another drive, honey?"
Rachnia: "As I'll ever be."
Celia approaches Talios after finishing the repairs of Chaos Meld.
"I went ahead and threw in a tune-up for the Mana-Thrusters, it should use a bit less mana for flight mode now."
"Alright, thank you."
Chaos Meld: "All systems repaired and operational. Ready for combat, Pilot."
Finally, Max and Rachnia re-enter their mech, Weaver Of Fates. As the two enter and connect, the same thing happens as before. The cables attached to Max turn gold. Though this time, Rachnia's do too. A purple spider web pattern spreads across both their cables.
"All systems operational. Driver sync at 200%. The Weaver of Fates is ready for Combat."
"To protect and preserve, to carve a path for others to walk on, to weave the fate for the future, we stand and fight. Eldritch one. You've made your last mistake."
A large sword appears in one of the weaver's hands. It's alot like the one the Apostate of Misfortune wields, a form of Max very view of have gazed upon.
The Titanic Abomination in the distance can be seen wrestling with Aoi's projection. It seems to be overpowering even for the the Oni, but she has managed to hold her own against it. Jean can be seen flying overhead, using layers of defensive spells to buff and empower her.
Aoi: "YOU THINK YOU'RE HOT SHIT HUH? SARAH, BLAST EM!"
the beam of the Polyphemus aims straight for the beast's left eye, to try to distract it.
Cerne's silver swords are stuck in her own projection, like daggers in her back. Not out of hostility, but to enrage and empower.
Talios places a hand on Chaos Meld's ankle, and is warped into the cockpit.
"Switching to manual controls. Welcome back Pilot."
Chaos Meld pulls out it's greatsword, but it quickly changes into a different form. A war hammer.
《Mana-Drain Thrusters: 30%》
Immediately, Chaos Meld dashes in and attempts a powerful overhead strike on the abomination.
The blade of the Weaver Of Fates grows as the weaver takes hold if it with all four arms. A gigantic and ornate greatsword.
"To destroy those who wish for destruction, to end those who wish for annihilation. We turn their desired fates to their own selves. Face us, XYLFAPSAVEI, and die your final, fated death."
The thrusters on it's back and it's legs activate, burning white hot. It dashes forward at breakneck speeds, going for an upper cut to match Talios' strike.
The Titanic being Towers above everything, it's head nearly a full kilometer in the air. As Talios flies overhead and strikes down with the warhammer, it is effortlessly deflected by some kind of powerful energy field, and the same happens with the beam from the Polyphemus and the Weaver's attack. The exposed Brain sitting in the carved out skull psychically laughs, mockingly.
"You fools don't stand a chance before the power of a true God!"
Everyone experiences a flood of information entering their minds. it is a map of the beast, with a plan of attack.
Atrosa: "The thing has Shield Generators built into it's body that we're gonna have to take care of first. Your going to need to use your mechs to get inside, then fight your way on foot to the generators!"
"Talios, You use Chaos Meld and try to get under it's left flank, there is a hollow metal panel there you should be able to break open with your antimagic punch. Weaver, I want y'all to evade as best as possible while charging that cannon of yours, and wait until my signal that Talios has brought down the first generator. The second one is located in the right shoulder, but it's very heavily armored."
Talios: "Got it."
《Mana-Drain Thrusters: 60%》
Chaos Meld's speed increases massively. It begins flying around the abomination, trying to find an opening to the hollow panel.
"Ironsides, Wait for my signal, and when I give the order I want you to dump everything you have into this things Groin. Trust me on this."
The Weaver Of Fates armour plating shifts forward, as it stands guard before the Ironsides, ready to deflect attacks.
"Ready when you are."
Talios manages to fly around to it's left flank, Jean assisting Aoi in getting the abomination to lift it's arm, exposing a worn panel protected by a barrier.
Chaos Meld: "Target acquired."
Chaos Meld immediately dashes in with a superman punch on the worn panel, the anti-magic in the Chaos Meld being much more volatile. It causes black sparks to surge from the point of impact, all the mana in the vicinity being consumed by the sparks, essentially destroying the mana entirely.
The punch collapses the barriers and crashes through the panel, exposing a hallway leading down into the depths of the creature. The cockpit of Chaos Meld opens up, and Talios tosses a Chaos dagger into the exposed hallway, swapping positions with it.
Chaos Meld retreats back after it's pilot has safely entered the beast.
"Switching to automatic mode. Good luck Pilot."
The shipkeeper of the Ironsides, Ferra, has been preparing a shield disrupting shot amidst all this.
Ferra: "Awaiting command, Paragon of Preservation!"
The tunnels leads deep down into the chest of the mechanical eldritch horror, and opens into a large room with a massive glowing crystal. Around it, 3 mindflayer mages are focusing on some kind of ritual. They have not noticed Talios yet.
Talios summons his Chaos Blade, and another Chaos dagger into his free hand. Quiet as a mouse, he moves behind one mage... And immediately stabs his Chaos Blade into the throat of the mage. He tosses the Chaos Dagger at another of the mages, the dagger striking it's throat. Two down.
The final Mindflayer, in a panic, attempts to use a Mind Blast on Talios. But due to not having an actual brain... It is ineffective.
Talios charges the last one, shoulder checking it to the floor and proceeding to bash it's head into the floor once. Twice. Thrice. Fourice. Firice... What am I saying... Finally, he stops.
Atrosa: "Talios, hit that mana crystal with an anti-magic strike. Max, as soon at it shatters, fire your weapon into it's right shoulder!"
Talios walks over to the mana crystal. He widens his stance, placing his left hand fingers square on the center of the crystal. He takes a deep breath. Focuses...
《One Inch Death Punch》
He closes his fist, moving his whole body into the punch in an instant. The anti-magic freezes the mana in the crystal, while the punch itself could probably do some serious damage as well.
The jets of the Weaver Of Fates flare up, the armour shifts back, and they ready it's titanic greatsword to strike.
The attack greatly destabilizes the Mana crystal powering the first layer shields, causing it to shatter into thousands of pieces.
Atrosa: "Now Max, blast that thing with the shot you've been charging up and get ready to jump it!"
The railcannon fires straight into it's shoulder, weakening it significantly. The disruptor rune weakens surrounding materials, disabling magic caught in the blast.
The Weaver grapples onto the beast's side and runs upwards, reaching it's shoulder. A wound, large enough to fit the Weaver was made in the abominations shoulder, and after passing the fleshy, decayed exterior, they find themselves standing in a large room, and on the other side of a massive barrier lies a huge, spherical core of energy radiating a sickening divine light.
Atrosa: "Weaver, use a Godslayer rune on that divine core, that will render it mortal. Talios, you get back to Chaos Meld and get ready to scram. This is gonna get messy."
"Got it."
Talios sprints out of the hallway, leaping straight out of the abomination. Putting full faith in Chaos Meld to catch him as he falls...
And she delivers, soaring in and catching him mid-air, immediately warping him back into the cockpit.
"Welcome back Pilot."
"Charging up railcannon, rerouting power from all defensive systems."
"Firing Godslayer rune!"
The cannon fires at near point-blank range, smashing right through the barrier and into the divine core. This causes the mana with it to become unstable and explode outwards, leaving a massive hole in the eldritch corpse's chest. The Weaver is protected from the blast by a powerful barrier.
Atrosa: "Alright, Y'all get out too. Ironsides, Dump everything you got into that things crotch!"
Ferra: "ALL CANNONS, FIRE ON IT'S GROIN!"
The mortars, anti-material cannons, and artillery batteries all focus fire on it's groin, as the Railcannon is almost finished charging a godslayer itself. Aoi's Wargod projection moves out of the way to avoid getting hit, while Sarah fires her cannon in tandem with the others.
The barrage begins impacting the abominations groin, causing the structures holding it's legs together to collapse. Without a leg to stand on, it comes toppling down, landing forwards in the water. The massive tank containing the Elder Brain shatters on impact, and the seawater begins to cause it to shreak in pain.
Chaos Meld was flying around it when the abomination fell. Seeing the Elder Brain exposed, it grabs A.M.A.R from it's shoulder mount, firing 10 anti-magic artillery rounds into the brain. It only stopped because it had to reload.
Without the magic animating the Eldritch corpse, it begins to turn to stone, rapidly becoming overgrown with moss and sea life.
Talios sees the village below while flying, and notices the villagers trying to flag him down. He obliges, Chaos Meld descending down, gradually slowing its descent with the mana-drain thrusters. Once it lands, the thrusters power off entirely and it kneels, placing a hand on the ground. Talios is warped onto the hand.
A large man with skin the color of brass walks up to Talios. Judging from the draconic wings and tail, it's easy to tell that this must be the Half-Dragon chieftain.
"Thank you so much, great warriors! You have saved our village, and we are forever in your debt."
Talios: "...Just doing our job as the Crimson Paragons, chief."
A title with little meaning now. But it's all that comes to mind. Talios doesn't want to take all the credit...
The Weaver Of Fates arrive near the village, Max and Rachnia disembarking.
Max: "Good day, chieftain. I've heard much about you from Empress Aubade."
Rachnia looks like she only did a light exercise, instead of experiencing the same strain as before. Them being in sync seems to have done them both a lot of good.
The townspeople begin to gather around to thank their saviors, and the Chief, the Brass Half-Dragon Velzas, walks up to Max.
"I've heard good things about you, Maximillian. We've been appreciative for ARMADAs assistance for quite some time, and now we are truly in your debt."
Talios is busy being greeted and thanked by the villagers, when a large Lamia woman approaces him silently from behind, and picks him up into a huge hug. She gets a little carried away though, and accidentally squeezes him so hard that he can feel his body crumpling in from the pressure.
Talios visibly tenses up when he feels the Lamia grab him, but he quickly relaxes. He feels... Strange. An emotion unfamiliar to him.
With this action... A seed was planted in his mind. A seed that would quickly turn into something greater.
Max: "I'm surprised you all even remembered it's aid from ARMADA at all. Not exactly a catchy name, after all. Just glad to see you're all doing well."
Velzas: "Don't worry about the damages, it is nothing compared to the devastation that you have prevented. We've been acting as a sanctuary for dislocated demihumans such as ourselves for some time, and that does put us in indirect contect with ARMADA from time to time. You have been doing a service for our community that the world has always sorely lacked, and to call it gratitude would be a disservice."
Max: "I'll have a crew sent before noon tomorrow to assist with reconstruction efforts, chief Velzas."
And with that, the alien invasion had been stopped. All was well in Lantica once more. And Talios sat down on his chair in the tavern, having finished his retelling of this story.
"I'm never entertaining things like this again."
He will.
((BUT WAIT, THERE'S BE MORE! IT'S A TWO FOR ONE SPECIAL TODAY ON LORE!))

To start of, I would like to acknowledge that I am a bad person, evil maybe. Second, if I could do it a second time, I would.
I, 33M did something which caused my wife(32F) to have a mental breakdown and perform certain actions which sent her to the emergency ward of the hospital.
People usually have "a second spouse" but in my case, she is my "spouse for a second time". We had been dating since last year of highschool and actually got married while attending university, at the age of (21M,20F). Why? Because being the only child and successor to my parents business, the only reason I aimed for a university degree (business one) was for the sake of that title. Wife on the other hand, got a technical degree but still wanted to be a SAHW, eventually SAHM, as it would work out for us in the long run financially speaking.
After university, we still did not plan to have children so I actively asked her to get a job or a part time one in the meantime to get out of the house atleast. The second reason being to prove her sister (31F) wrong.
You see, ever since they were little , my in laws pitted them against each other. Academically, socially and , as bad as it sounds, appearance wise. Yes, my sister in law is what one would consider a "conventional beauty" which was a sore point for my wife but, as they say, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. I tried to always see what she failed to about herself. I always tried to affirm that she is indeed very beautiful, pretty and a fundamentally nice person and I would always love her unconditionally. It still could not overcome that fact that only I found her attractive like that and sister in law attracted and got hit on by men swarming like flies around... waste material.
The second point being that my in laws never showed much familial love towards my wife and so my wife wanted to be a SAHW/SAHM because she wanted to be there for family always, I respected that. However, with sister in law calling her a "leach" for choosing that path in life, angered me and thus I wanted her to try using her technical degree to work and gain experience. She opted to work outside my family business which was fine and understandable. This happened when we were 25M,,24F respectively.
Now, coming from a country which has few women in technical roles, my wife was the only woman in a team of 10. Those guys started hitting on her and her attitude completely changed. I was happy until I understood where that newfound confidence came from and then sat her down and explained the situation. For the first time in years, the way she responded back was something I will never be able to forget. The malice, the anger, that coldness. It was like I was talking to a completely different person. She accused me of being insecure, not trusting her and being jealous for the attention she is getting now. Then I did the stupidity of apologizing to her. Things were never the same.
I knew what role she worked in but for some surprising reason, within months of her joining the role, she had to stay late at nights frequently and was nominated for frequent business trips (something not part of her role but I never questioned). However, it kept eating me inside and I decided to spy on her. I looked through her phone and found texts between a colleague of hers. His name had a heart next to it but the texts were not found (deleted maybe). However, she forgot to delete her gallery and I saw provocative images, which obviously, I never received.
I tailed her to her office the next day and I saw she greeted a colleague of hers with a kiss (I had not been kissed or been shown any affection for the past 5 months at that point). It angered me but I got a lead. I hired a private investigator to tail them and waited for opportunities to catch any messages from her phone. Eventually I succeeded. I arranged all that evidence and invited both sets of parents, presented the evidence and intended to divorce. It was a terrible time in my life all around. And the reason she cheated.
"She got the attention from others, understood her worth and thought she did not have to be pinned down by me." Nothing I did, could do, could ever do, would ever matter. From me, the attention was a given, from others, it means they saw something I could not in her. And what was the point? Her sister , for all her faults, never acted like that. The guy she cheated on me with refused a committed relationship with her and moved away. Wife got fired. The efforts by her at that point and her in laws to consider forgiveness were relentless then on.
We still got divorced and I got my parents to take charge of the business for a while because I wanted to get away from all that mess. I went abroad, enrolled myself in a masters program, eventually got a job there because why not, and then quit said job to just travel around (yes, i'm your stereotypical spoiled rich brat so whatever).
2 years back, I returned home to take charge of the business (had to stop being a brat sometimes, love you mom and dad). During this while, I ran into my wife again. She looked changed, wanted to catch up and reminisce about the "good times". I don't know why, I was and still am attracted to her (will be much stranger when you hear what I actually did). I never dated anyone after the divorce and my wife did look like a changed person. With my parents and in laws being the intermediatory again, they urged me to reconsider a relationship with her. She had been to countless therapy sessions. Her parents , albeit late, understood their part in making her mental state a mess and it seemed like I would be in the wrong to not "forget a silly mistake made in youth". And you know what, being the sucker I am, I did date her again and got married a year back, (on the same date as my last marriage, to make it seem like the past never happened.
On to D-day, the anniversary date. A month prior, I was laying around and suddenly, I recalled the incident where she accused me of being insecure. I don't know why, it started to bother me. It angered me. I scared myself thinking how much malice I hold. I wanted to cause her pain. These vile thoughts took over me so badly that I eventually came to terms with them. I am a bad person. I am evil. I think anytime I acted nicely, I was merely putting up a face. And how did I get back at my wife? I got in bed with my sister in law in a compromising position (no , we did not do the deed), on the anniversary event at my place and made sure wife, in laws would catch us. Why did sister in law agree to this? She believed the change in my wife was superficial and given the right conditions, she will go back to her old self. No, I do not blame sister in law for anything. It was my plan, all the way.
And well, wife caught us in that position, we had to act surprised and she started wailing, having a panic attack, screaming, calling in laws and my parents who were also shocked at what they saw. In that craze , wife ran to the medicine cabinet and downed a whole bottle of aspirin.
She was rushed to the emergency room and my sister in law and I received abuses, slaps, curses etc from our parents but in all honesty, that was the worst they could do. I am an only child so my parents can't/won't disinherit me. My sister in law already lives independent from her family so she is not in trouble either.
I held a poker face throughout but inside, I had the most evil grin imaginable. I hurt my wife in the worst way I knew was possible. The worst part, If I could do it again I would. The worst part, I still love her. I am bad, I am crazy, I know I need therapy. But that is all.

After recently coming across a Reddit post regarding Pigment dispersion syndrome, a condition which results in the pigment of your iris slowly releasing, revealing the pale blue layer beneath, along with a host of other less than desirable symptoms including atrophy of the iris, blurred vision, and even glaucoma, this post triggered a memory within me, long since forgotten. So long ago that I’m uncertain as to whether it was a dream or simply the product of a child’s wild imagination.
I must’ve been four at the time. My parents divorced 2 years after my birth, and I had been at my father’s house for the weekend. It was summer, and I’d been running around the yard enjoying the tranquility of a warm summer day in the countryside, much like many of us kids did in the 90’s before the advent of iPads and other electronic distractions. I’d been collecting different kinds of bugs around the yard which had led me into the garden in the far corner of the yard. That’s when I spotted it—a small white mass within the confines of a bush. At first, it appeared to be a stone of some sort, before I noticed its octopus-like tentacles emerge from beneath it, pulsating with an otherworldly type of energy. Two large blue eyes fluttered open on the mass, glistening in the sunlight. It appeared to be studying me with its silent eyes. Being a curious child, I began to step towards it. And then it happened—the creature morphed before my eyes, taking the form of a majestic bird, one I’d never seen before, its feathers shimmering in the breeze. I was mesmerized, unable to tear my gaze away as it transformed again, this time into a white cat, its eyes still that piercing shade of blue. My four-year-old mind raced with questions, but before I could make sense of it all, my father called me from the house, snapping me out of my trance. I ran back to the house, turning back once more to peer at the creature, its movements fluid and unnatural.
Upon entering the house, my dad had prepared lunch as I watched TV. Slowly, my mind began to drift from the strange creature I’d encountered in the garden. After lunch, my father told me he had to run out for a quick errand, retrieving some tools from down the road from a neighbor he’d lent them to. He said he’d only be gone for fifteen minutes and asked if I’d like to come along. Being all but transfixed on whatever show had been playing on the TV, I asked to stay home. Being only a quick errand, my father relented and set off through the front door.
Minutes turned to hours, and still, there was no sign of his return. Anxiety began to gnaw at my insides as I paced the living room, waiting for the sounds of his footsteps. It had begun to get dark outside when finally he returned home, strangely entering the house through the back door. I breathed a sigh of relief—until I noticed his eyes. Those once warm brown eyes, now a chilling shade of blue.

Good marrow, bonelickers!
Early last month I announced the 19th Speedlang Challenge. I broke the mould with it a little bit by confining how the ambitious among you would actually put together your speedlangs rather than defining a number of requisite features. The bulk of this process had speedlangers root all their creative linguistic decisions in a small set of natlangs, and these natlangs specifically had to be native to areas representative of a chosen clade of organisms. To ensure the clade of organisms was well represented, I also asked for a number of lexical items and conceptual metaphors that had to be specifically inspired by the clade in some way, as well as some aspect of the phonology.
Like last time, I'll provide my thoughts about what I think makes each submission special and the features I particularly like. Afterwards, I'll quickly review what was inspired by the chosen clade, in case that has any bearing on what you kind readers might like to check out, and give out brownie points for any easter eggs I spot, whether intended or not.
Overall this has been a deeply creative round of submissions and I learned a lot, both things I set out to achieve when I thought up this particular challenge. I hope it was just as rewarding a challenge for everyone who submitted as it was for me getting to read up on each entry, and I hope it will be the same for anyone who reads up on them, too.
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Seba Bàsa by Miacomet

Gyps (griffon vultures); Chamic, Bengali, Santali & Mundari
With a name including the element Bàsa, I knew this had to have Indic flavours of one sort of another, and indeed it does! This conlang is largely Austronesian in origin with sound changes from Old Cham, but it has a lot of Bengali influence and is well situated in the Indian subcontinent, and I greatly appreciate the nod to Parsi funerary traditions as an inspiring reason for choosing Gyps. Amusingly, this conlang has many features that fit right into the inspiration for the last speedlang challenge, which I find just delightful, with some split-S marking, dative enclitics, and grammaticalised constructions for simultaneous and sequential events, and light pronouns. Therebeside, the historical clipping, CVK syllable structure, postpositional pronouns, and aspectual auxiliaries speak to sensibilities in my own conlanging, and the dissimilation processes in some of the affixes are a nice touch, too. I'm also a big of fan just how the split-S system is implicated in some verbal polysemy, and I really like how the few voices seem kinda muddy but have clear use cases. What really sets this conlang apart, though, is the consideration paid to the effect of prestige languages. Some phonemes are restricted to loanwords from the local prestige language, and one is even only confined to prestige language-educated speakers, which causes some allophony other speakers don't have. Loaning processes are detailed, too, and the number and classifier system also draws nice lines along the prestige axis with a total of 3 parallel number systems, spread out across both divisions of native vs. loaned classifiers, which themselves have specific semantic domains they each classify, and across divisions of prestige language education. The story at the end, too, is a real treat: it's a translation of Hindu vulture myth, perfect for this project.
Seba Bàsa's Gyps-inspired phonology includes the development of creaky voice from the loss of glottals, glottalised consonants, and final /s/ in Old Cham to recall vulture cries. It's inspired lexicon includes some fun polysemy of vulture behaviours like circling = waiting or sheepling = looking for something desirable. I'm also a big fan of kite (the bird) = messy eater. It's inspired conceptual metaphors include dividing the beginning, middle, and end of a process into eating skin, meat, and bones, respectively, and equating head height/position with one's health or comfortableness as inspired by how vultures droop their heads when ill.
We're starting off string with double brownie points for meeting both the space epic easter egg by calquing the Ewokese word for 'outsider' and the empress easter egg by referring to Buddha's Birthday!
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Kogëdek by u/Porpoise_God

Setonix & Macropodidae more generally (quokkas + kangaroos & wallabies); Noongar, Pitjantjatjara, Wajarri, Guugu Yimithirr, Miriwoong, Guniyandi, Dyirbal, Mbabaram
Aside from the one splant you'll soon see, I think this entry gets the prize for the most unique chosen clade by being A) not a bird, and B) not an ungulate. As great as birds are, quokkas are pretty amazing, too. I'm not too familiar with Pama-Nyungan languages but this did a good job of affecting some of the features I've come to know them for, including but not limited to the phonological natural classes of peripheral vs. coronal, coverb constructions, and the word for 'dog' bearing a striking similarity to English. Split-ergativity features across the noun-pronoun axis, and there's a unique set of duals that specifically refer to sibling, parent-child, or spousal pairs of individuals that I might have to steal for myself. The case marking includes a lative case I haven't seen before, and implicates the comitative in a neat way in comparative constructions. I also appreciate the what-looks-to-be resumptive subject pronominal proclitics; very speedlang 18, and a great example of a fossilised mistake, which I always love to see! The verbs also feature multiple conjugations, and the imperative is implicated for its tenselessness in certain subclause constructions, which has a certain type of quirkiness I'd expect out of some past speedlang challenges.
Kogëdek's Setonix-inspired phonology included a /ç/ in the proto-lang, which bears some resemblance to quokka calls, although it was lost to /s/ and /x/ in the modern language. The inspired lexical entries include roots for different kinds of macropods and styles of jumping, and conflates jumping with breathing. Some of the idioms include "pouch-baby" for pejorative "mama's-boy" and using kangaroo badassery as a metaphor for all sorts of less than ideal situations.
Brownie points for a particularly insidious word-form for 'father'.
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Yatakang by Lichen

Bubalus (water buffaloes); Hindi-Urdu, Thai, Vietnamese, Khmer, Burmese, Malay
This one's a little rough around the edges, but it's a good foundation for a nice mix of both SEA features, like the isolating morphosyntax, and unique features, like the class agreement system. It's also got clicks limited to avoidance speech! Diachronics from a proto-lang where considered, and I really like how the typologies of the inspo langs were used as targets for the sound changes. I'll have to keep this workflow in mind! Some of the sound changes include expanding the number of stop contrasts to match the average number of contrasts, or eroding the number of vowels to match that of Malay. Phonotactics were carefully considered with full structures for both mono- and disyllables as well as bare roots vs. compound stems. Grammatically, morphology is mostly limited to a host of different reduplication patterns, which in itself is something I'd really like to see more of! Where this really shines, though, is with its agreement system: nouns are sorted into a 3x2 matrix of 6 classes, portmanteau agreement particles mark for the class of both the subject and the object, the system implicates the social hierarchies common to many SEA languages, and the position of the particle marks modality. Incredibly inspired to pack all that into a set of maybe 36 particles, if you ask me, never mind how it helps to disambiguate fluid word class and how it might be implicated in future plans for Indonesian object-oriented verbs. I'm also a fan of how the temporal question verb patterns like an agreement particle to mark for tense by co-opting the modality marking. We also get some prosody-syntax interfacing with different pitch contours at clause boundaries operating as different sorts of conjunctions.
Yatakang's Bubalus-inspired phonology includes a combination of creaky voice and syllabic nasals to affect a mooing phonaesthetic. The lexical entries exhibit some nice semantic drift from water buffalo activities and behaviours towards more human behaviours, and the planned phrase of hat-hand stroke fur for "suddenly realise a problem, and then pretend there isn't one" just feels exactly like an observation a water buffalo would make observing its human, which I really like. The inspired metaphors are also simple and straightforward, likening roundedness to goodness or knowledge to food, which makes for some brilliantly idiomatic language like "I ate the book" to mean "I read and understood the contents of the book."
Extra brownie points for including both halves of the space epic easter egg to placate both sides of nerddom; the term 'tax-man' is everything it ought to be.
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Kurikiri by Jjommoma

Casuariiformes (cassowaries and emus); Dhuwal, Motu, Tok Pisin
Compared to most other entries, this one's very short and sweet with some Australian sounds and some head-final Papuan grammar (however loose a description that is). That being said, Kurikiri is very inventive in being partially signed with much of its grammatical marking encoded by actions done with the foot, including number, case, definiteness, and some basic TAM.
Aside from the cassowary foot action grammar markers, as well as some lexical entries there-related, Kurikiri also equates flightedness to being ostentatious, disdaining flighted birds out of envy, which I think is a fun thought process for these terrestrially confined birds. There's also some neat phonosemantics in the taboo word for predator being especially difficult to pronounce.
This wasn't the intent, but I'm giving some space epic brownie points for the foot grammar if for nothing else than that it reminds me of Paul Frommer's Thark from John Carter and its telepathic grammatical and verbal lexical expression.
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Whaynisiday by u/Fimii

Spheniscidae (penguins); Māori, Xhosa, Quechua
What do you do when the entire population of penguins achieves human-like levels of intelligence after some gene splicing and they start calling for a language to call their own? Why, you do exactly what the prompt of this challenge asks for and combine the languages native to the homeland of the blue, african, and humboldt penguins! The write up for this conlang does a great job of pointing out what features are from which language exactly, and plays a fun balancing game between some of the phonological and grammatical extremes in its sourcelangs. In so doing it has a few quirks that really tickle the intersection of my linguist and conlanger venn diagram, specifically the presence of what I'd have to interpret as onset morae, as well as semantic noun class marked solely through agreement (which is very Varamm, so I'm not at all biased towards it). There's a handful of fun, rare cases, and the simulative mood fits right into the inspirations for the last challenge to create some vaguely Tupian simultaneous actions. There's a bunch more little grammatical bits that are fun, but impressionistically I appreciate how the more isolating grammar of Māori was incorporated into the synthetic common ground of the other 2 sourcelangs.
Whaynisiday's Spheniscidae-inspired phonology includes a couple syringeal sounds to complement the otherwise human capable inventory. The highlighted lexical entries pay special attention to how penguins locomote with basic stems for different kinds of movement options both on land and in the water, as well as a split in breathing for whether its on land at rest or in the water being active. The conceptual metaphors include a great model of time with the past on land and the future in the inky depths, and the very adorable notion that safety = community, and so naturally a farewell would be a wish of friendship.
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Poro by The Inky Baroness

Rangifer tarandus subsp. (domestic reindeers); Proto-Samic, Komi-Zyrian, Tundra Nenets, Chukchi
Where do I even begin with this one? I was excited to read this one when I first received it, but it was even better than I could have hoped when I got round to reading it! Although, not for any linguistic reasons: the first half of the doc reminds me of Gillian Teft's Anthro-Vision as an anthropological account of reindeers written by a fictitious Finnish researcher rather than any sort of sketched reference grammar, which I love dearly. The latter half, meanwhile, goes into great detail about what went into the first half, including all sorts of motivations or reasons for the decisions made. Some diachrony is detailed, as well as the effects of language contact rooted in actual historical events relevant to the chosen sourcelangs, which is just great to see. I loved the ways in which each of the different sourcelangs were all represented in the final product with it being Samic in origin but including some phonological and grammatical borrowings from Komi and Nenets like the lack of consonant gradation, the verb-final syntax, some vowel changes, and a fantastic predestinative affix that interacts with the conceptualisation of time in some neat ways. All the while, care was taken to do a wealth of research at every step in the process with a fairly extensive bibliography. Hoof clicks all around for this one!
Poro's Rangifer-inspired phonology includes a deer bellow as some sort of epiglottal obstruent that actually patterns with the Nenets glottal stop, as well as some other approximated reindeer vocalisations including what I presume to be grunts or chuffs, both oral and nasal. Care was also taken to think about what a fully reindeerised descendant of Proto-Samic would look like as accords with the included etiological myth for reindeers and reindeer husbandry, but this was well beyond the scope of a speedlang. The lexical entries include all sorts of terms for reindeer physiology, including but not limited to antler velvet, different types of vocalisations, and hoof clicks. These lexical entries feature in some wonderful idioms using antlers to describe social hierarchy, useful- or uselessness, and glibness or malicious intent, as well as an equivalent to "when pigs fly": "to catch a bird between one's hooves."
Extra brownie points both for the nominal hierarchical exaltation of mothers baked into reindeer culture and inclusion of an anti-imperialist message in promoting the research of the under-represented and often stigmatised language and culture of traditionally reindeer herding peoples. Also do keep an eye out for Dr. Dolittle easter eggs: Inky will reward you handsomely if you can spot one!
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Kiwi by NerpNerp

Apteryx & Novaeratitae more broadly (kiwis + cassowaries & emus); English, Māori, Traditional Tiwi, Miriwoong, Bardi
Given the number of bird entries with Indo-Pacific flavours, I'm almost half surprised this was the only kiwi entry: they're such good birbs! As might be expected, this conlang endeared itself to me just as its namesake does. The phonology has all sorts of trills and rhotics, and limits itself to high vowels; it's also got some neat phrase level prosody to mark different sorts of modal information and focus, even including an intrusive glottal stop at the sentence level. Noun incorporation is varied and detailed, and can create some polysynthetic constructions as a consequence of just how exactly the rest of the otherwise fairly analytic morphosyntax works. I'm a particular fan of the deictic categories including 7 different degrees of deixis characterising both distance and motion, and I'm also a fan of of the grammaticalised time of day. Heximal numbers and coverb constructions also feature. There's even a kiwi-capable featural alphabet that each of the examples show off!
Kiwi's Apteryx-inspired phonology includes the trills and high vowels being inspired by kiwi calls and I imagine a little of their anatomy with those long, thin bills. The inspired lexemes include specific types of smells humans can't detect at the expense of any colour terms, reflecting kiwis nocturnal, smell-based lifestyles. The idioms for "a long time ago" or "once upon a time" is absolutely delightful--"when kiwis flew"--and the grammaticalised time of day subdivides the night but not the day, as might be expected from a nocturnal beastie.
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Asamiin by Christian Evans

Asamina (pawpaws); Ottawa, Unami, Tuscarora, Mikasuki, Chitimacha, Timucua
The speech that nourishes! And a splant, too, no less; I was hoping for at least one of these! This one's made all the better by delving into some Eastern North American languages and I really like the flavours this lends itself to. Syncope is abound with all sorts of morphological obfuscation through detailed phonological processes, and animacy plays a key role in the verb complex. Care was also taken to find a phonological common ground between all the sourcelangs, which made for a really interesting set of vowels with a basic 6 vowel inventory, but with 2 nasal vowels that can surface as vocalic allophones to the nasal consonants. The grammar is fairly straightforward but has a few quirks that I really appreciate, including but not limited to the fluid O placement to make for some syntactic focusing strategies I so adore and the optional, enclitic case marking narrowed by various postpositions used as another, separate means of focus. Overall just really well laid out and the formatting is really cute, something I've now come to expect after Yumpịku last time.
Asamiin's Asamina-inspired phonology includes a pharyngeal approximant to recall the really long taproot pawpaws grow, as well as regressive sibilant harmony to recall the mimicry the flowers employ to attract pollinators, both of which are some really inspired departures from the sourcelangs.
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Ekaangäq by Atyx

Haliaeetus pelagicus (Steller's sea eagle); Chukchi, Alyutor, Koryak, Itelmen, Ainu, Nivkh, Evenki, Uilta
A bird that escapes any Indo-Pacific flavours? Well I'll be! Instead of South Pacific this one gives all sorts of North Pacific energy being spoken by a population of eaglefolk native to the Sea of Okhotsk and representative of the languages spoken along its coasts. The Ainu flavours are especially strong with both an Ainu-based consonant inventory and a kana orthography, among others. The vowels also show some interesting lopsidedness with 2 creaky vowels complementing an otherwise fairly straightforward 6 vowel system that feature in a front-back vowel harmony system, though I'm a real fan of the sandhi rules at word boundaries that cause all sorts of fun consonant alternations. Word stress is also detailed and has funky placement rules at odds with my understanding of theoretical prosodic processes! Grammatically there's a few quirks that really stand out to me and tickle my curiosity: a dual distinction on the nouns but not in the pronouns, and polypersonal agreement in a transitive alignment system, the only departure from direct, accusative, and/or ergative alignment in this round of submissions. I also appreciate some of the syncretism in the pronouns!
Ekkangäq's Haliaeetus-inspired phonology includes entirely unrounded vowels and a lack of any labial consonants to reflect the speakers have beaks, as well as the 2 creaky vowels as rooted in their physiology, a common theme for this challenge. The lexicon includes some distinctions between diving and eating as it applies to different kinds of prey. The conceptual metaphor, though, I think is really great equating the passage of time with ice: an iceberg calving off a glacier is birth, melting is ageing, and melting all away is dying. Great stuff!
I think I actually have to give negative brownie points for this one: as much as I appreciate 3 separate orthographies (Kana, Cyrillic, Latin) for some historicity, they are all at odds with the anti-imperialism the brownie criterion requires, and there's no girl power to balance it out.
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Taqồpaq by accruenewblue

Gallus (jungefowl); Hindi-Urdu, Burmese, Thai, Punjabi, Tamil, Indonesian
I'm a little surprised this is, I think, the only truly tonal submission despite all the SEA birds, and it's less synthetic than most in this round of submissions. In either case, this one does a great job of illustrating some tonogenesis and some recent and still very transparent synthetic developments from a formerly isolating language. The tones are simple registers, but they interact with morae in some neat rightwards reassigning sandhi patterns, and they complement a system of 12 vowels in a 3x2x2 matrix of height, frontedness, and roundedness. There's even some vocalic nasal allophones (which is twice now in this round of submissions), and labial consonant-vowel harmony to boot! Grammatically I greatly appreciate all the call-outs for similarities to natural languages, and I wanna shout-out the use of a positive tag question instead of negative. The numbers have this funky sexagesimal base with an octal sub-base and remnants of an old decimal sub-base, which recalls some of the duodecimal remnants in the otherwise decimal system of many European languages.
Taqồpaq's Gallus-inspired phonology includes the tonal system being described as recalling a rooster's crow. The lexicon includes roots for all things chicken, including using the word for 'wattle' as a classifier for hanging things, which is so delightfully what I wanted out of this challenge. The more idiomatic language makes use of chicken behaviours as descriptors: dust baths are metaphors for something useful but not everyone's cup of tea, and continuing to brood after the chicks have hatched is a metaphor for doing a good thing so long it has negative consequences.
Extra brownie points for exalting queen Trưng, first queen of Vietnam, and a nationalist hero who fought against Chinese imperialism. Double whammy right there!
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Ngālin by u/borago_officinalis

Aptenodytes forsteri (emperor penguins); Awabakal, Māori, Norwegian
We already had a penguin splang but this one's a nice twist by focusing on the territorial claims of Antarctica rather than the ranges of more temperate inclined penguins where there are actually native languages. This does a great job of shirking the indigenous implication in the language selection step of the challenge (although I'm very glad to see no English or Spanish), so there's a really neat mix of isolating Māori particles with a fusional Germanic verbal system, and I was able to easily pick up on both reading through the doc. The verb system actually pleases me greatly with a strong/weak contrast and a V2 word order wherein the strong verbs mark tense through stem change and the weak verbs with a tense auxiliary, all whilst maintaining a very Polynesian aesthetic despite the very Germanic number of vowels. The Māori possessive system is also really fun, I think. I can't speak to the Awabakal influences, but I was able to pick up on the one, tiny Mapudungan influence of tone tag particles before it was even explicitly mentioned! Not sure where the negation system came from, but it implicates the weak verbs in a way I so adore. Really sweet, despite the fun grim facts about emperor penguin hatchlings, and I found this one just darling. The myth at the end about how penguins lost their ability to fly is also real treat and is a perfect fit for the project.
Ngālin doesn't have any A. forsteri-inspired phonology, but it makes up for it with the inspired lexicon and idiomatic language. The emperor penguin breeding cycle is detailed with translations for all the important terms along the way, including but not limited to the ritual of transferring egg from mother to father and "motherless" to refer to a newborn, whose mother hasn't yet returned from the sea. There's some great, everyday idioms elided down from full phrases for greeting and consoling another penguin being "which way?" and "next year", and conceptualising a long distance as specifically the distance from colony to see is a nice touch. I also appreciate how the relationship between creche-mates is more important than that between (half-)siblings.
I have to give queen exaltation brownie points purely for the one illustrative example of āmā o pipa "hatchling's mum" grammatically indicating the senior authority of an empress penguin.
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Honourable Mention

I've been kept somewhat apprised of a Urile (North Pacific cormorants) splang by u/PastTheStarryVoids. It's still very much in the works, but it sounds funky with both some polysynthetic flavours, no doubt inspired by some PNW languages, I imagine, and some formorant (cormorant formant) analysis! Keep an eye out for it, I'm sure it'll grace the sub in due time!
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And that's everything I've seen in the time I put together this showcase. I know there were a few among you all who felt inspired but couldn't put anything together during the course of this challenge. I remember mention of a banana and a tree kangaroo splang on the announcement post. If anyone ever uses the challenge to inspire a future project of theirs, please keep me apprised! I'd be interested in seeing them if for nothing else than to see some more projects outside of South Asian and Oceanian birds, as great as those birbs are. I can't believe I didn't see a single monotreme or non-ungulate eutherian, and that there weren't any non-avian reptiles or anything fully aquatic! And no fossil clades, too, for that matter! I'm positive there are the makings of some really funky splangs if the relevant modern continental and climactic boundaries didn't yet exist.
In any case, I hope all parties involved had a great deal of fun through the course of this challenge! I know I did! Until next marrow, bonelickers!

hi! i’m eden, 22f from the us. i’m at work at the minute and i’m so bored, i have no customers and id love someone to talk to. i can be very flirty and witty i’ve been told so please match my energy! i’ll try to match yours too :) i have red hair, blue eyes and i’m chubby. i’ll send pics if you do first <3 i enjoy reading, crocheting, playing cozy video games and i love my cat! i have 10 tattoos and 4 piercings. i love doing my makeup and dressing up all cute and i LOVE compliments. i also love voice notes so if we manage to move to discord id love to receive those :) thanks for reading and i hope to hear from you! (please don’t be older than 32)