It had been less than twelve hours since the Emperor, her father, had brought her aboard his starship. Her world looked small below her, almost like she could reach out and grab it from the vacuum. She could if she wanted to, she knew, though not in the physical sense, but then again she didn't need to prove her psychic might to herself.
In those few hours she had met two of her sisters: Juno, a refined woman in blue and gold livery, as well as Ferra, who though gruff and kurt had been welcoming to her. They had both come down to greet her before returning. There was a great deal of work to be done before departing from her home system, but they had insisted on introducing their new sister to the glories of the Imperium from a place with a bit more perspective. After a time Ferra had left them for the forges, leaving just herself and Juno staring out the window at her world.
"Is it just the three of us on this ship," she'd asked, enthralled by the scale and grandeur of the ship. To think that humanity had made such beauty was still hard to accept, let alone that, if they were to be believed, Juno had said it was one of thousands of such ships. "The three of us sisters, I mean."
Juno looked down and smiled wryly. "No, sister. There is another of our siblings aboard, though she didn't want to come down to meet you. She's probably in her quarters, down where you'll be staying, if you'd like to introduce yourself. I warn you, though: she's not as, shall we say, 'dignified' as we are."
Strange, she'd thought. Why wouldn't she come to see me. Not a very welcoming type, I guess.
She'd made her way down the passages towards the living quarters, passing crew and serfs who bowed to her as she passed. Their looks of awe were nothing new to her, such was the effect she had on others. It was something she accepted as the way of things, even her sisters had been reverent and respectful when they'd met her in the city plaza earlier that day.
Her wanderings eventually had led her to the door she'd simply known had to be the one. Unlike the other doors it held bare metal aside from placed where the old decoration had been torn off. On it a single symbol had been scratched into the metal with a sharp object. A tad dramatic, she'd thought, and awfully uncouth for a daughter of the Emperor. She'd put her thoughts aside, mustered herself to be presentable, and pushed open the door.
Magnolia entered a large room that looked to have been ransacked, and beheld a savage sitting in a plush chair at its center. A fire was roaring in the hearth behind the chair, obscuring the details of the woman who sat within it. Two large beasts, what one could mistakenly call wolves, looked up from whete they lounged at the savage's feet. Their throaty growls could be felt even in Magnolia's enhanced physiology. Fascinating, she thought, studying the eyes of the beasts; faintly, she could feel intelligence staring back at her.
"Skoll! Hati! Be still, that's no way to greet your new sister," the savage said, a grin tugging at the edge of her lips. Teeth reflected in the lumens above in that grin, teeth long and sharp. The two beasts quieted and returned their heads to the carpeted floor, though their eyes never left the stranger who had entered their packmate's room. "You're the new one, yeah? He must've found you on this little excursion to whatever backwater system we're in. So, what do they call you?"
"Magnolia, they call me the Crimson Queen where I am from," she replied regally, studying the face of the warrior across from her as she did. Her dirty blonde hair was long, unkempt and braided in places, the bulk of it held away from her face with a strip of leather cord. Her eyes were the blue of glacial ice with black paint swathed across them so they stood out even more than normal. An old scar ran down her left forehead vertically down her cheek. She was dressed in the skins of animals Magnolia could not identify, muscled arms and shoulders silhouetted beneath them. Much like the beasts at her feet, Magnolia was surprised to find intelligence behind those azure orbs; in fact she was almost taken aback at the intensity of that intelligence. There was a calculating mind behind those eyes, one that many would not see fully.
"Magnolia? Pretty name, that," the savage said, grabbing an oversized drinking horn on the table beside her and draining the contents in a handful of drafts. Her lack of decorum or any standards of acknowledgement stung Magnolia's pride that tasted bitter in her mouth. "So, Magnolia, what is it that you do?"
"What do I do?" What kind of question is that coming from such a creature, she thought. Can this thing even be called 'my sister'?
"You know, what do you do," the savage said, swinging her arms out to each side. "From those of our sisters I've met we all do something, usually something different. Well, some I've met are a bit more alike each other but don't go saying that around Petra." The woman threw her head back and let out rolling, boisterous laughter that shook the air. It was hard for Magnolia not to smile at the sound, even with the bitterness of the woman's reproach still acrid on her tongue.
"Well, I am much like our father in what I can do in the metaphysical sense," Magnolia said, standing straighter with pride.
The laughter abruptly ended. A dark look came over the woman's face, the lips that once held a smile now turned up in a snarl. "What do you mean by that? Our father is the greatest man to ever exist and you claim to be his equal the second you meet him?" The beasts at her feet began to growl again, their hackles raised.
"I meant no disrespect to the Emperor of Mankind, sister," Magnolia said, shocked by the sudden aggression. The savage's mood had changed in a heartbeat, the very air in the room seemed to hum with the anticipation of further escalation. "You see I am gifted in the ways of arcana, much like our father is. I am by no means his equal, though I hope to learn to be like him."
"And how do you practice such arcana, hmm?" the woman snarled, raising herself up from her seat. Now standing she was large; not at large as Magnolia but far and above the stature of the Astartes warriors she'd seen when the Emperor had visited her on her homeworld of Prospero. She now saw twin hand axes of dark iron were strapped to each hip, the handles wrapped in worn leather stained with wood underneath, both of which were stained with the blood of battles long since past. The woman's right hand rested upon the haft of its corresponding axe, not yet an outright challenge but certainly a threatening gesture. "I know how malifecarum works, witch, and I've dealt with those who wield it without discipline. So, how do you do your little spells, Magnolia?"
"I-I use a number of techniques, all of which I've mastered and wield with the utmost ability... and safety, of course," Magnolia said quickly. I can kill her now if she attacks, but I don't think that would be wise. Best to find capitulation with this brute. "I am very much of the mind that wielding such forces for the good of our Crusade our father has so graciously allowed me to join."
The woman stayed standing, staring into Magnolia's eyes with burning intensity. Her body was taut, a musclebound spring coiled up ready to leap forward on a second's notice. Her blue eyes never wavered, the snarl bearing her fangs for Magnolia to see in all their obscene glory.
Then she... started to chuckle. Then she started to laugh. She laughed and laughed, doubling over before throwing her head back again so that those on the decks above could also hear her. Magnolia, stunned into silence, watched on in stupefied bewilderment. What in the Hells is she?
"You should have seen your face," the woman cried, holding her side as she sat back down into her chair. She mimed a frightened face, bringing about even more uproarious laughter. She sat back heavily into her seat and immediately reached for another horn of alcohol from the table beside her. Her smile had returned, but it didn't reach her icy stare. Those eyes never lost their intensity. "I think I can come to like you, in time. I hope you'll be a good sport and keep coming back around while you can. I'm sure our father will send such a powerful creature such as yourself out into the universe soon. Until then ask Juno to teach you regicide, I need someone new to play against." She leaned back, teeth glinting in the light.
"Well, thank you for seeing me today, sister. I look forward to speaking again," Magnolia said, bowing her head and turning to leave.
"Farewell, Magnolia the Red," the woman called from her seat, her beasts returning to their places.
"I never learned your name, sister," Magnolia said, turning back in the doorway to address the woman. "I wish to know what to call you when we next meet... hopefully under more pleasant and amicable circumstances."
The grin on the woman's face widened, a throaty chuckle escaping from between her clenched teeth and pointed fangs. Those eyes never left Magnolia's, almost burning bright beneath her shaggy hair and eyeblack.
"My name is Lyana of the Russ, the Wolf Queen of Fenris, Lord of Winter and Wrath, slayer of krakens and the Tamer of Morkai. But for you, Magnolia? Just Lyana will suffice."
(I've seen all the lore being posted and figured I'd throw my hat in the ring. I have ideas for how to further their story so if y'all like it let me know. C&C is always welcome. Also some italicizing is lost in this format but shouldn't hinder the reading.)

Over the past week I have noticed that one part of my hamstring feels almost like there is a lump. I have felt it and cant visibly see a lump and I dont think I can feel one. The muscle does feel a little bigger on that side than my other leg. But I cannot feel a distinct bump. But whenever I touch it it feels like pressure for a few minutes after and if I sit with my calf touching it it starts to feel weird almost like tight. It starts to bother me if I stretch it but it doesnt hurt it just feels tight almost like im flexing it. Im not sure if it could be related to me working out this week for the first time in a few years. I also pulled it 2 weeks ago but the pain went away after a day. Im scared I could have soft tissue sarcoma because thats what shows up when i look up my symptoms😭. I was also thinking maybe a muscle knot but Im not sure exactly how that feels. I was going to make a doctors appointment next week. I am 20 years old, female.

Dear Broadchurch fans, I have posted a series of rewatches of season 1 (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Broadchurch\_series\_1) of Broadchurch. Now I find it is time to review some of the prevalent themes within the series. Please be aware that I will discuss season 1 as a whole, so there may be spoilers ahead.
If you enjoy reading this essay, feel free to stop by my AnalysisVault to see if you find some more of my work to your liking. Please note that this subreddit is read only and comments should be made with the original posts rather than the cross-posted ones.

Egotism vs Altruism
One of the more prevalent themes in Broadchurch is the question of egotism vs altruism. I will give you a short overview of both concepts as well as the spectrum they represent, then speak about their implementation in the series and finally make a statement about why the makers chose to make it a central theme.

Wikipedia states:

Egotism is defined as the drive to maintain and enhance favorable views of oneself and generally features an inflated opinion of one's personal features and importance distinguished by a person's amplified vision of one's self and self-importance. It often includes intellectual, physical, social, and other overestimations. The egotist has an overwhelming sense of the centrality of the "me" regarding their personal qualities.

In essence, egotism is the personal philosophy of “me first”. A person with strong egotistical tendencies will make sure their own needs are met before those of others. Think, if you will, of the people who will take the best slice of cake for themselves or drive a gas guzzler out of convenience or cut the line at the airport to get the best seat. All of these are egotistical actions. On the other hand, some egotism is warranted for self-preservation. The parent who gives their all for their children but runs themself ragged in the process may need to exercise more egotism. The health care professional who routinely skips their break to care for never-ending patients may want to be more self-preserving by being more selfish. Things like that. In general, society views egotistic action and unfavorable while oftentime people with egotistical traits tend to be more successful in certain areas of life.

Altruism is the principle and practice of concern for the well-being and/or happiness of other humans or animals above oneself. While objects of altruistic concern vary, it is an important moral value in many cultures and religions. It may be considered a synonym of selflessness, the opposite of selfishness.

In essence, altruism is the personal philosophy of “others first”. A person with strong altruistic tendencies will make sure the needs of others are met before their own. Think, if you will, of the people who will hand out food to others happily but forget to get any of their own, take great strides to pick up trash in a local park or offer up their seat for a disabled person on the bus. All of these are altruistic actions. In general, society views altruism as beneficial and a trait to strive for while oftentimes people with altruistic traits tend to be less successful and may feel taken advantage of.

Basically, egotism vs altruism is the Captain Kirk vs Mr Spock discussion. Spock says: “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few”, goes into a highly irradiated engine room to save the Enterprise and dies in the process. Kirk says “The needs of the few outweigh the needs of the many” and risks war with the Klingons because he can’t live without his buddy.
However, every action has aspects of both in them. Each action every person takes has both egotistic and altruistic nuances to them. The interesting part is where the balance falls. I will let you decide for yourself which way the pendulum swings on the following examples.
Some examples:
The healthcare worker who overworks themselves acts in an altruistic way because they support patients and help them get better. But they are also egotistical in their own way because being “the supportive one” strokes their ego.
The person who drives the gas guzzler acts in an egotistic way because they pollute the environment unnecessarily, take up a lot of space with their vehicle and probably stink up the place with their fumes. But they might also have an altruistic aspect because they need to move large groups of people, feel they are supporting an industry that gives jobs to workers or even further the economy by spending money.
The person handing out food but not taking any for themselves can be very altruistic but depending on the person they can be very egotistic instead, for example when they decide to hog the table, demand ever-lasting gratitude for their “sacrifice” and/or post their actions on social media for clout.
Finally, a person who writes lengthy analyses and posts them on Reddit may appear altruistic because they attempt to enrich the lives of others with their observations and (hopefully) witty posts. They may also be egotistic in an attempt to garner attention and positive reinforcement through the community they choose to post in.

Implementation in the series:
One of the great things about the series is the fact that they are aware of the different sides of egotism and altruism and allow the viewer to form their own opinion. Hardly ever is anything said bluntly, most of the time we are left to figure out things of our own. We see the way the characters act, we see the way they interact and are interacted with and we are left to make our own decision. Hardly ever are things black and white, hardly ever are we given the one true answer ™.
This is one of the main reasons the series is as emotionally impactful as it is. Because life is messy. Life isn’t neat. Life isn’t simple. Stories with simple and clear answers are not realistic because life doesn’t work that way. Think about it. In the last decade or so there were a lot of shows and movies looking deeper into the question of fairy tale villains and whether they were villains at all. Star Wars does this masterfully by looking at Anakin Skywalker’s arch. He seems like a clear-cut villain in episode 4, the first to hit the screens, but as more of his story is revealed, he becomes much less cartoonishly evil.
In fact, the idea of egotism vs altruism is the driving factor in the various aspects of the investigation the detectives conduct. Look at the different suspects, if you will. All of them have (at the very least) some very egotistical behaviors. Steve Conelly, con man and maybe psychic is getting a feeling of importance when passing on his “messages” to the great expense of Beth Latimer, among others. Mark Latimer is so very much wrapped up in his selfishness he neglects just about everyone around him unless caring for them fulfills his needs. Nigel Carter engulfs himself with righteous anger against Jack Marshal, not for the community but seeking Mark’s approval. Paul Coates revels in the attention he and his church gain from the case. Susan Wright is so eager to protect herself, she harms others pre-emptively. Jack Marshal, the man who slept with a child, then married her. No 40-year-old man would do that for selfless reasons.
All of the suspects we are presented in the show are – in one way or the other – selfish. And that’s perfect. Murdering a child is an inherently selfish action. The true joy of the show comes with finding out that the murderer is a man who we are made to perceive as deeply selfless.
Let’s take a look at Joe Miller and how he is portrayed on the show. As I have stated in the various rewatch posts, most of the time Joe Miller is shown as loving, caring and genuinely supportive parent and partner. As u/Vioralarama stated so well in my post about episode 5, “He's got the plot armor of the supportive spouse who handles all the emotional work for the person working the crime.” On the surface, he does. Every time we see Joe Miller, he is seen with a member of his family. And every time he is seen he is doing some sort of supportive work for them.
Case in point, when Joe and DS Miller invite DI Hardy to their home for dinner, Joe does it all. Puts the kids to bed, prepares dinner, does the dishes. He tries to mediate between DI Hardy and DS Miller, too, and makes a great effort to lighten the mood.
Once you look below the surface, though, things look entirely different. We see glimpses here and there that things are not what they seem, mostly through things we DON’T see rather than the things to DO see.
Joe Miller shows some worrying signs of being a neglectful parent and partner quite early on in the show. To pick up the example of the dinner experience, when DS Miller leaves the room, Joe Miller uses the time he has alone with DI Hardy to probe him for information. If he truly were the supportive husband the show wants us to believe, he would’ve used that time to help both find common ground in their working relationship. DI Hardy is the one who brings that up and asks about whether DS Miller likes him. The conversation is cut short though as Joe Miller filled the narrow time slot with questions about the case and didn’t leave DI Hardy enough to ask about how to improve his working relationship with DS Miller. Case in point, DS Miller keeps complaining that DI Hardy addresses her as “DS Miller” instead of “Ellie”. This would have been a great talking point for Joe Miller in that moment, asking “why” and mediating between them. Also, did Joe Miller make a dinner invitation to help DS Miller and DI Hardy form a working relationship or did he do it to garnish information?
More examples:
When DS Miller and Joe Miller tell Tom Miller about Danny’s passing, both leave him alone in his bedroom. Neither offer a shoulder to cry on. Sure, DS Miller is just as responsible as Joe here but Joe is the stay-at-home parent and therefore the more direct caretaker than DS Miller. Also, over the course of the show we never see Joe actually engaging with Tom, there is no attempt at comforting him, not even when he is obviously distraught. Joe Miller lets Tom out of his sight at the Arcade in episode 5, right in the middle of the “pedophile panic” surrounding Jack Marshal. Just in general, Tom spends a LOT of time wandering the town alone. This image doesn’t sit well with the façade of caring, loving, altruistic father.
Indeed, the filmmakers are pulling one over our eyes with Joe, who turns out to be one of the most egotistic persons in the town. Joe spends time and family money on Danny, he breaks into a holiday hut to do so, manipulates the boy with abuser language and, when threatened to be deprived of his attention, gets so angry he strangles the boy. Whom he still believes to be his son’s best friend. And who is his best friend’s son. The same best friend he then begs for praise because he didn’t drop the body into the ocean so he didn’t have to spend years wondering what happened to the boy.
But why do the filmmakers do this? The series REVELS in red herrings, side plots, dead ends and misdirection. The greatest misdirection they can give us is showing us the “perfect” man and making him turn out to be the most terrible one of all. It’s an emotional gut punch and the type of storytelling that works really well with the type of story they want to convey. Because the story of Broadchurch is not about Danny’s murder, it’s about the fallout that follows. A community like this learning that one of their “best people” is indeed a child murderer has to have a terrible ripple course through it, upsetting it deeply.
With so many other characters filling the “egotism” bill, we are offered a view beyond the picturesque coastal town in Dorset, England, where things look perfect, harmonious and just lovely. The series revels in showing us this image and dissecting it piece by piece, looking deeper and deeper into the cesspool of secrets and bad decisions. As such, the viewer is given the change to observe the deep hurt inflicted upon the more altruistic characters – most of which happen to be women – by the egotistic characters – many of which happen to be men. It is the direct and even more terribly indirect hurt that is inflicted upon the altruistic ones that gives the story the emotional impact it has.
Case in point, Beth Latimer and DS Miller both are exploited by their husbands and end up not only dealing with the direct fallout of their respective actions but hurt to a point they cannot even rely on each other anymore. They are both stripped of the delusion of happiness and family being their haven. They are also both stripped of a friendship which could supply each with a friend who “gets it”. Heck, just for the fun of it the makers toss in Susan Wright, a woman who has been so terribly hurt by her husband that she became jaded enough to “join the other team”. She has become the egotistic abuser her husband was simply because she (probably) used to be altruistic. Her experience with her husband, the police and the loss of her kids have kicked her to the other side of egotism simply out of a deep need for self-preservation.
Before the question comes up, no, the series is not about men vs women, or men = bad, women = good. And neither is this post. There are egotistic women in the story, like Karen White, Susan Wright or Becca Fisher. There are altruistic men in the story, too, like DI Hardy. But the trend is quite distinct. In my own personal experience this comes from the general societal expectation that women should be altruistic and work for the group. An expectation that is not socialized as thoroughly in men. The show picks up on this and showcases it to great effect, placing a great emphasis on the price some women are made to pay for following this expectation.
Finally, the question of egotism vs altruism is a thinking point the viewer is left to ponder with beyond the end credits of the last episode. The discussion of who is what and how much can keep the viewer’s mind busy for some time. Several people on this sub posted they hated Mark Latimer’s selfishness, and many commenters agree. If you ask me, this is a great result for a series, making the viewers contemplate things such as this beyond the actual viewing experience.

hi, im 20f i'm 5'8 and 145 lbs,
Previous conditions: retinoblastoma ( remission, i also have the rb gene that raises my risk for other cancers). had ulnar impaction syndrome and got my ulna shortened, and had a weird liver issue when i was 5 which i had a biopsy for but thats fine now. i also have a kyleena iud and have one ovarian cyst shortly after getting the iud that i had for 5 months till it deflated.
meds: 15mg of adderall, magnesium supplement gummies, and i take iron once a week
substances: drink maybe twice a week like 2/3 glasses of wine
i have had lower left sided abdominal pain for awhile now, usually starts a week before my period. latley i've had pain during intercourse and it hurts right in the back and radiates to one or both sides of my lower abdomen ( i have never had pain during intercouse before ). and the pain has become more frequent and its still on the lower left but also sometimes the right and both at once. and ( this has only happened twice ) where i get pain all over my abdomen and below my ribs and hurts more when i stand up straight. i would say the lower left sided abdominal pain ( sometimes right ) is and 8/10, the pain is so bad i will get goose bumps on my whole body. and in the last 3 days i've had a hard time passing stool ( i'm very regular ). i went to the gyno and she said she didn't feel any cysts but sent me for a pelvic ultrasounds. I have read up on some things that could be causing this type of pain like PCS ( pelvic congestion syndrome ) and May-Thurner (MTS). also my periods last 10 days and are roughly 20 days apart
i've had this pain for awhile but with the raising intensity, pain with sex and the constipation i want this to stop because honestly i am SICK of it. went to the store and felt like i was about to fall to the floor because of the pain.
any help/ what i should ask the doctor for next would be appreciated.

As of right now I’m struggling with fungal acne on my forehead, around my brows, and on the side of my face close to my hairline. Around my nose I have some bumps( hard and a little big pimple with no white head), and around my mouth I’ll get some thicker pimples (cystic) which I’m assuming are hormonal and they take a while to get a white head, if they do end up getting it. My products I’m issuing right now are gisri sulfur soap bar, 2% Pyrithione Zinc (ZnP) Emu Oil Bar Soap, nizoral dandruff shampoo, Paula’s choice BHA, tretinoin. I’ll do the noble face bar every morning. One night I’ll do nizoral and Paula’s choice after and the next night sulfur. And I’ll switch every day. I’m waiting for my skin to better so I can stick to just tretinoin. Tonight I tried nizoral on the top half and sulfur on the bottom and my whole face broke out in a rash. I think I’m putting too much on my skin because I’ll use the same products and only break out some days and not the others. Can someone please help me set up a routine. What should I keep and what should I take out? When should I use what (am or pm). After my fungal acne is out I’ll stick strictly to tretinoin.

I'm writing this on a throwaway account since these people know my main and actively engage with it. This is also gonna be a pretty long post since I'd like to provide context on how I even ended up where I am today so strap on in. Also apologies if any of this doesn't make sense, I'm pretty upset and stressed out and I've not slept in what feels like weeks. I have a lot of anxiety about all of this.
I started my first year in uni last year in September and met a couple of people I thought were nice enough on the first day. I'll call them 'G' and 'M'. I thought they were nice at first and we got closer as the weeks went by. G and M are also engaged so we talked about weddings quite often. They're are also cosplayers which becomes key in this. We got a lot closer around a time they were going to a con. Their previous friend had dropped out last minute but since they had already paid for everything they invited me. I also wanted to get into cosplaying at the time so I saw this as a perfect opportunity. I would spend nights at their dorms getting know them and we instantly got a long.
At the time, I was very nieve to all the red flags they were presenting as they were unusually willing to let me know EVERY detail of their life, including their sex life and what not. I found it werid but chalked it up to them being very comfortable around me which I found to be a compliment at the time but looking back, I now knew what was up.
(A little but of important info here but I had just feld a country 5 months prior to escape the abuse I was experiencing at home and went to live with my mum. G and M knew this and knew about my dad in depth)
Con comes around and they introduced me to a group of friends who were instantly very reserved around me. I chalked it up to nerves and thought that maybe they're just nervous which is understandable. This was until everytime I would speak they would give me dirty looks, talk over me and even dismiss me. M had also picked up a habit of making a lot of things about himself and anything I found interesting, he would make it clear that he didn't want to know, even telling me that he just doesn't want to hear it. When I went to meet a YouTube who attended the con, he seemed annoyed when I was excited and told me to stop being so excited since this was his 3rd time meeting them.
By time I got back home, their dismissing and also just really shitty attitude throughout left a sour taste in my mouth. However, I just chalked it up to nerves at the time.
A month goes by and they intoeduce me to another cosplayer who I quickly became friends with. When I told G about this, they told me to stop talking to them since I'll brea their heart as they "fall in love easily". I really didn't get that sentiment but still continued talking. Nothing romantic was ever talked about.
Then I started feel more attached to these people. They were practically in my life 24/7, I wa sin their dorms over nights almost everyday and began picking up the same eating habits as them as well. It's also worth noting that these people are "disabled" which is still up to debate.
They would frequently interrupted anything I enjoyed and conveniently pass out EVERYTIME I talked about something I liked or wanted to do. I also suffer with VERY acute psychosis which has been well treated for many years. They would constantly tell me that any doubts I had were just to do with my paranoia and that I should just ignore it. That or they would tell me that I was being manipulative and seeking attention.
This was all very sus but up until the incident I chalked it up to learned behaviour as I know one of them suffers with PTSD like I do.
At some point around this time, I had developed a severe kidney infection which almost turned into sepsis and I had to get the ambulance out to me. I'm no stranger to ambulances as I also have them out frequently due to severe panic attacks which almost cause a seizure and a heart attack I'm some cases.
Strangely after this, despite telling me that they've never had an ambulance out to them, for anything small like an ache they would call 111 which they didn't know before I had told them. 111 in the UK is the none emergency line that can send out am ambulance if you need it. However in a lot of the cases M had, they were perfectly fine but would cry and sob on the phone and say they felt like dying. Of course they send out an ambulance to check on them but it would always be fine.
Worried as I was all the time, I neglected my studies to take care of them and I'd spend a lot on them since I felt the compulsive need to take care of them. They would also guilt trio me with the fact that they were both previously homeless in their childhoods so I needed to get them something in return. I ended up spending over 300 pounds a month on them.
I caught M out one though since the uni I go to, require the ambulances to inform the reception first for permission and to unlock all the doors for them. Before going up to M, I had to go to reception to ask if they would let me in. When I informed they why, they were confused and said that there were no ambulances that parked up at all, not even firefighters which sometimes arrive for medical aid occasionally.
Moving forward a lil I had started to grown attached to them more to the point where I thought I liked them. They expressed to me previously that they're poly and so am I. M had even stated to me that when they first met me they found me attractive and wanted to potentially have relationship.
One day I decided to just confess over text making it extremely clear to them that they had to think about it first so that we did not rush into things and make things worse. If they wanted to be friends then i would be ok with that and I made myself very clear 3 or 4 times within the text.
Instantly, because i was in the room next to them, they came in and told me that they loved me. They hugged me and cuddled me for a while until we went into M room. I was in G room at the time. Suddenly, they both got completely naked in front of me. I had told them that I'm ok with boxers and a shirt since they were more like shorts but getting naked? I was shocked but just went along with it. I was in a shirt and boxers until they told me that i should join them and take my top and bra off (we're all under the trans umbrella). They both persisted and feeling pressured I took my shirt and bra off and joined them in bed. Then G opens up a folder on their phone of their nudes together which I was in shock for. I knew they had it but tbh, I didn't really want to see it. They then expressed how our previous shopping trip to a sex store (we're adults and we go in there cause why not) was a test to see if I would take the hint they liked me. I'm autistic but even I could tell that that was a lie. There were never any discussions of that nature that took place that day.
They then went on about their sex life in full detail. I'm not particularly fond of the idea of personally having sex within the first few months of dating since I'm very frigid about that sort of thing. I'm not stranger to sled pleasure but anything like that is entirely different and I wanted my boundaries to be known then and there. There were a few touches here and there after that, all of which would explicitly done with consent as I have had encounters with SA previously. They knew this.
After that day, they all of a sudden stopped talking me completely. We were on uni break so it wasn't like I could talk to them in class about it either. I felt alone and like I had done something wrong. This sent me onto a pretty bad depressive episode which triggered a small psychotic episode to occur. During which they would constantly tell me when they did feel like talking to me that i was just like my dad (abuser) and that I was being annoying and paranoid about everything. I have since talked to me my mum about this since my memory is a little hazy from that time and she said that the only thing that could've given the episode away was my sudden belief in a god and afterlife. I'm an atheist and grew up that way. But G and M were mostly referring to the fact that on numerous occasions I had called them out on body shaming me, using me as fatspo to fuel their own anorexia and belittling language they would against me constantly. This was even present in class alot since some students who I'm now friends with even stated that they acted as if they ere higher than everyone. Anytime you didn't give them attention, they'd start going on about suicide or passing out only to wake up seconds later.
They also claim to have DID and that one of their alters had encephalitis. This wasn't just a symptom holder either. They would claim they all had it and even told paramedics who were caring for another patient who had broke their leg on campus at the time that they had it. Although after this, they came back pissed to the paramedics caught on pretty quickly that this was a lie.
Months of this built up a full mental breakdown and I had one of the most server panic attacks of my life. I had to be admitted onto A&E where u saw the mental health team to discuss as safety plan since I was have frequent bouts of this. I've always felt with hallucinations since I was 8 but never like I had on that day and to this day, the only thing I can fully remember is the feeling and vision I had. I would not wish it on my worst enemy.
G and M response to this? They went to my friend who was packing my bag at the time and told them that if they didn't pack it the right way I would hate them. They actually cold apparently and not once did they ask how I was. When I got home, I only saw one text saying "hey, Ik your in A&E but you can tell me in your own time what happend."
They were very much disinterested me and I began to be fed up with them. I had an upcoming concert with them not long after so I figured I'd keep the peace until them and they distance myself from them since I was clearly suffering from it all. Around this time, I had randomly been kicked out of the discord we had together with the people we met at con. I asked around they just gave one word responses. I had attempted to be friends with them before but annoyed by their sudden disinterest in me again, I just moved on.
Fast forward and I'm logging in on minecraft to a shared server we had. I used this server as a coping mechanism since it was literally the only thing that got me out of bed and moving to a degree some days. However everything I ahd built was gone. All my pent uo frustration just let itself out and I started crying down the phone over a voice message to G. I was a bit pissed but overly. Key thing note however is that I was having a go at them and in no way screaming at them which they later claimed I did. I even showed my mum and therapist and they were both in agreement that I was not shouting nor did I even raise my voice. It sounded more like I was upset than anything else.
G then said that they lost trust me because of this and that they wanted some distance for a while. I apologies profusely, even getting my mum to help me since I was I no way fit to text. However, a dumb mistake we made was sending the same apology over to the both of them, the only difference being their name. G then stated that because of the name, that they felt like I wasn't actually apologising and didn't wanna hear it. I tried to clear things up but the they told me that I had no excuse to act this way towards them since they were "such a good friend to me". After this, i went on call with a friend of mine who is my ex. However we ended on pretty good terms and are still close to this day. They even look after my cat for me.
I'm gonna call him J. J can be the over protective type so in response to my distress texted G ti find out more about why they were so cold about everything and in his mind, over reacted to something so insignificant like minecraft. This is where they made the claimed that I had screamed at them and I sent them into a PTSD attack. What J did notice though was that the story they gave was almost word for word of a panic attack in had explained to J about, almost like they copied it and changed a few things. They the proceeded to tell me that I was abusing them in that moment and that i was exactly like their dad (who's a pedo btw). Hurt by this and the fact that I had told J to NOT text G at all, I ended thinsg of stating my true feelings about everything and said that I never wanted to see them again. It felt good to get it off my chest and honestly freeing. The weeks after that were spent healing in therapy with my mum who both agreed that their actions in the past were more akin to.emotional bullying. Om still coming to terms with this I had trusted them with every fibre of my being. It felt like my heart was being ripped apart whoever, I stated talking to new people in my class around that time. Each of them said that they had notice the same behaviours towards me themselves and were honestly concerned for my safety since they would frequently talk shit about me behind my back. They then put on their snapchat story the next day that they were greatful for the friend they had and got rid of dead weight in their life. They also chalk up their sudden change to be apart of their BPD which if you have seen the eyes of someone who's manic, you'd know that it has a distinct look. The photos they took of themselves really disturbed me as you can clearly tell they're not right in the head at all. The eyes were dark and blown fully. Their eyes just looks black and soulless. I showed another friend who has BPD to confirm if it was what I was thinking and they agreed. It was unnerving and I honestly felt uncomfortable. I couldn't sleep well that night. They looked like they belonged in those headshots of convicts who had just been arrested and still are clearly under the influence. After this I also sent out a text containing context to everything to the group chat since I knew they were gonna manipulate things. I have seen them in person do it and it's honestly disturbing to see. Each one responded telling me that I was a liar and that I should feel ashamed of myself. One even told me they weren't gonna hear me out since they didn't know me well which I think is just a werid line of logic to have tbh. One even accused me of faking my disability which I quick proved to be false which silenced them. I've since blocked every single one of them since I don't wnat anything to do with them at all. I don't want them to know about my life and twist things again to hurt me. Forgive me if I'm over doing it but honestly, it was like I was talking to group of psychopaths who didn't care for anyone but themselves. Their past actions certainly proved that much.
Fast forward a week and I'm out shopping with friends all of a sudden, at even location we were at G was there. These were bookshops that were not well known the area and hidden very well so there would be no way G would know about them, especially since they don't like reading. G still followed one of my friends on snapchat and we found out by testing that every post we'd make, with or without the location attached, G would be right there moments later. Creeper out we ended the day for our own safety and went home.
Ever since all that, I have been taking to a friend of mine who G and M claimed abused them although with the evidence I have seen, it was the complete opposite. G was a regular drug user and would constantly use drugs as an excuse for their actions. My friend also suffered heavily with mental health problems and physical ailments that they need physio therapy for. G and M would constantly tell them they were faking and that they should stop acting like they were in pain. This is similar to an incident where they stated that I was not physically disabled cause they couldn't see it. Which is stupid honestly. By law, I am classed as disabled as to this day I struggle diary with ankle and knee problems due to a late development. I frequently use my braces but I don't use a cane since I'm too self conscious despite it being recommended to me by my doctors.
It hurt to see that they were treated this way and we bonded over shared experiences. There were also other people they had done this too.
Finally getting to the main issue, recently a con just took place which I had to cancel last minute since a family member died and I had to fly back over to my previous country to attend the funeral. The friend that G and M introduced to me started getting closer to them which I honestly didn't pay much mind to since I'm now just done with that shit. However, it wast until now that I feel uncomfortable. All of a sudden, this friend, ill call them O, had removed me from their private account for "safety reasons" and said they had done this to othe people. It didn't take long before I saw with my own eyes that it was just me. G and M have a nasty habit of spreading false rumours and if you know the cosplay community well, that shit spreads liek wildfire. It doesn't have that they have a sizable following compared to mine and know alot more people than I do. I honestly think they're tryna turn people against me and I don't know what to do at this point. I want them to leave me alone and keep my name out of things. I have had so many great days ever since we stopped being friends and my health has also improved dramatically. I'm not having as many panic attacks or severe ones either and I've not had a depressive episode like the ones before ever since.
I don't want to be dragged down like this and I wanted to defend myself however I know for a fact they have more influence then me so many people will side with them just like the group chat did. I don't know what to do anymore and I really don't want things to kick off again either. If I sense any drama starting at all I will just block people cause I'm just not having it. It's all child's play and they honestly need to fucking grow up and grow some balls or something. I just don't know what to do anymore. Thoughts?

Slovakia has multiple cases of murders or disappearances of investigative journalists, and this is one of them that isn't that heavily covered in Slovak media, so I decided to cover this case first.

A Dangerous Job?

Pavol Rypal, 39 years old, was an investigative journalist known for exposing the operations of the Slovak mafia. He shed light on crime-related cases and the underworld in Plus 7 Days, Reporters of STV, Krimi SK, and Palba on TV Markiza. Pavol assisted many people who were wrongfully harmed by the state.
"Pavol Rypal was one of the journalists who tackled the most dangerous issues, such as organized crime in the state. Informing about the methods of serious crimes, large sums of money being siphoned, and sophisticated underworld transactions is treacherous terrain for a journalist and often proves inconvenient for many involved parties," says security analyst Juraj Zabojnik.

Last Cases He Worked on Before Disappearance

According to findings by Startitup reporters, just before his disappearance, Pavol was working on a large project involving hundreds of missing people whose cases remained unresolved.
Among the cases on Pavol's list was the disappearance of Katarina Hrozanyova, an ordinary woman, mother of two children, and an official of Slovenska sporitelna (the largest commercial bank in Slovakia). Her mysterious disappearance caught the attention of several journalists at the time.
Members of two rival gangs discussed the tragic fate of this ordinary woman. According to their testimonies, the Takac family, along with the Sator family, were involved in the kidnapping and brutal murder of 37-year-old Katarina. In 2005, an unknown man was supposed to pay a million crowns to the mafia for her liquidation.
The most feared killer from the Sator clan, Zsolt Nagy, known as Conty, allegedly marked the spot in the outskirts of the village of Blazov where he buried Katarina's body. However, her remains have never been found.

The Disappearance

Pavol disappeared on April 22, 2008, from a rented apartment on Rezedova Street in Bratislava, and no one knows where or why. The day before, he tended to work matters, arranged other meetings, and was last seen in Bratislava by the owner of the apartment. Yet, he remains unfound, and he has not contacted his family. Various theories about his disappearance exist, but evidence is lacking.
However, he did not vanish without explanation: he left a handwritten note for his girlfriend, instructing her to take the cats and dispose of his belongings. "I'm sorry, but I saw no other way out," the message read. "Disappearing is not easy; it's mentally taxing." There must be a serious reason behind it. "You have to sever lifelong ties with your closest family," said psychologist Anton Heretik, who also knew him personally, after his disappearance.

Clues About Murder

In 2018, Plus Media reported information from his friend and colleague, Peter Nota. Peter received information about the location where Pavol's body was supposedly buried, apparently in Zazriva village, in the middle of a forest. Over the next two weeks, two more witnesses contacted him, confirming the same location. According to them, there are at least two to three other bodies buried in the area. One of them allegedly belongs to journalist Pavol Rypal, missing for more than a decade.
"Physical harm to him was mentioned by a witness for the first time half a year ago. Then a second witness from Germany spoke, followed by Jana Teleki. Later, I also received several anonymous messages, but I didn't pay them much attention," says Peter Nota.
According to his information, the main reason for Pavol's liquidation were promissory notes, either from TV Markiza or from Ducky. Peter believes that Pavol's body will be found concreted in a well in Zazriva.
"If journalist Pavol Rypal's body was buried in this location, it would definitely confirm that both cases involving promissory notes are connected and have the same owners. According to my information, in both cases, they were BIANKA promissory notes, and the signatures were either forged, even in Ducky's promissory notes, or they were signed later than claimed," Peter reveals.
Ducky's promissory notes were signed by Jan Ducky, director of the Slovak Gas Industry (SPP). Their consideration was supposed to be "services of a commercial and financial nature," which never materialized. The promissory notes were not registered in the accounting of the SPP and therefore it is not known to this day for what amount all the promissory notes were issued, but there is talk of several billion crowns. Some promissory notes could be blank even without specifying the amount. Ducky was found shot dead on January 11, 1999.
In the case of TV Markiza promissory notes, while the controversial Marian Kocner was in the limelight, he engaged in legal battles for significant sums. One such case involved the promissory notes. In mid-June 2016, the mafioso's company sued Pavel Rusko and Markiza TV for the payment of four promissory notes totaling 69 million euros. He claimed that they were issued years ago as part of a settlement over television with his former company, Gamatex. On February 27, 2020, the Specialized Criminal Court convicted Kocner and Rusko of forgery and sentenced them to 19 years in prison.
"In my opinion, the state knew who killed him, just like they did in Daniel Tupy's case," his colleague Peter Nota once wrote on social media.

Family Convinced Pavol Was Murdered

Iveta Uhliarikova, Pavol's sister, also spoke about her brother at the launch of the book Slovak Mafia on the Aktuality portal. According to her, his family worried about him due to his work, and he was certainly in danger. Once, he was supposed to run home because a red light appeared on his shirt.
The family no longer believes that Pavol is alive. But they would like to find his body and bury him.
In 2018, his sister Iveta wrote on Facebook that she had learned the most terrible news: her brother had been murdered. She expressed her grief and revealed the fears that had haunted her and her family. Iveta's post reflected her struggle to remain strong while grappling with the devastating truth. She stated unequivocally that her brother, investigative journalist Pavol Rypal, was no longer alive, and she firmly believed that he had been murdered."
According to TASR, the search for Pavol is ongoing.
Sources:
https://www.zilinak.sk/clanky/27898/od-zmiznutia-novinara-pala-rypala-preslo-16-rokov-podla-sestry-ho-zavrazdili-interpol-ho-stale-hlada
https://www1.pluska.sk/krimi/nezvestny-novinar-palo-rypal-viem-preco-zomrel-sokuje-jeho-kamarat
https://www.startitup.sk/exkluzivne-palo-rypal-je-nezvestny-uz-15-rokov-pred-zmiznutim-pisal-o-katarine-hrozanyovej/
https://domov.sme.sk/c/23160212/pavol-rypal-zmiznutie-vyrocie.html
https://plus7dni.pluska.sk/domov/novinar-palo-rypal-je-nezvestny-15-rokov-odkaz-jeho-sestry-mrazi
https://www.ginn.press/news/palo-rypal
https://www.topky.sk/gl/541133/2150227/Dalsi-zavrazdeny-novinar--Vieme--ze-je-mrtvy--tvrdi-rodina-10-rokov-nezvestneho-Pala-Rypala
https://www.omediach.com/tlac/14264-nezvestny-novinar-pavol-rypal-je-nadalej-v-patrani
https://www.dnes24.sk/desat-rokov-od-zmiznutia-nezvestny-novinar-pavol-rypal-je-nadalej-v-patrani-313469

I've been swimming with sharks, a full pod passed around me at a beach south of Adelaide , Aldinga?? Only Grey Nurses but felt hairs raise I did not know I had. Face to face with 6 foot goanna in Darwin he was standing up about a foot away. Caught a crocodile on a fishing line on Cooinda Road in Kakadu. Did the death roll. Killed a couple of death Adders also NT. Caught four Barramundi in a throw net, at the same time. And an enormous Queen fish took an hour near Fannie Bay. NT. Also in NT hundreds of fish jumping into the dinghy. Big Red kangaroo near Georgetown passed within a few inches. It had the dog and I had inadvertently cornered it in a rocky semi circle. I moved left to let it through the gap and it dropped the dog which it had around the neck and hopped past. We both did the seeing side eye. I'm six foot and it was bigger. Sure felt the earth move and some workers said later they heard it going through the scrub. No idea how many snakes and Big spiders I've met. Oh yeah wild pigs and buffalo. Always found best to speak quietly, keep my hands down and get the hell out of the way. And recently had to give way to a crocodile walking across a causeway. God I love this country.

TL;DR: Financially depended on parents, poor physical and mental health, parents refusing to provide me treatment and support me but expects me to study properly and take good care of myself regardless. I also want to become independent, but my shitty health is destroying every attempt to study. HOW THE HELL DO I DO GET OUT OF THIS?

Disclaimer: Long Post, Depression, Gender Dysphoria Causing Eating Disorders Leading to Poor Health

Assigned female at birth, Indian, Recently turned 18.
I was supposed to have been graduated from high school and admitted to college but I am repeating 12th grade, much to my parents' horror, and couldn't graduate this year largely because of depression and poor physical health. Also, I don't know if I have ADHD but the symptoms are there and I struggle a lot because of it too.
Parents don't acknowledge that people can be mentally ill and they need support and treatment. Therefore, when I first told them that I'm struggling with my mental health, they just.. mocked me, for several weeks. Told me I'm weak and can't do anything, that I'm a big zero and making up excuses. I never brought that up again.
Doesn't have to mention they are disappointed in me. Because they wanted me to be a doctor, but being a doctor is so not me. That's not what I want to do at all.
Wanting to pursue something different and then not being able to even graduate made them extremely disappointed in me.
This is more amplified by the fact that they both rose up from their parents' economical conditions and expect me to achieve better things but I won't be able to get a decent job at all, if I keep that up. I can relate, I am disappointed in me too.
So whenever I struggle to study, my mother lashes out at me, telling me how much they sacrificed to raise me, and that they grew up with a lot more struggles than me and that I don't deserve their love because I amount to nothing and that she should have aborted me, that I am abnormal and defective that is destroying her life and it's my fault that she is acting out and that I destroyed their social life by being abnormal and if I don't get a respectable position in society, my life will be forever ruined. As if it's not ruined enough.
Whenever I struggle to eat, sleep or generally take care of myself, she says she won't pay for my healthcare if I get sick again and that I am better off dead, I was unwanted anyway. (Background: She wanted to study and wanted to get a job but was forced to marry by her family. She continued to study after marriage but then I came into the picture unplanned. She wasn't really ready to have me, but gave birth to me anyway because she thought if I grew up to a better place it would pay off. It didn't help that both of them had 11 to 5 jobs. I was raised when they were financially struggling too)
It hurts every time she says these, even if I know that she is saying these in heat of the moment and they're kind of true. Even if she sometimes apologizes (then proceeds to blame me for her behavior). It still fucking hurts okay? What hurts even more is that they don't want to understand me. They don't get my motivations, functionality and thought processes, but because I don't behave in align with their expectations, they tell me there's something inherently wrong with me.
I'm really sick and tired of these drama in our house. And I am sick and tired of being sick and tired at all. This seems to be a running theme in my life.
My father largely ignores us and is emotionally distant. At least he doesn't care about me not conforming to societal expectations, and that's better than mother's reaction to everything I am and I do. But that doesn't stop him from participating with mother in these drama. Both of them are extremely homophobic/queerphobic.
Mind you, they still provide food, cloth and shelter for me even after finding out that I was romantically entangled with another AFAB. Granted, they don't want to talk about it and completely ignore it in the hopes that it was a bad dream and they'd wake up, but hey, I wasn't kicked out, so that's good at least.
When I confront her about the things she say to me, she just states that I am really ungrateful for not understanding my mother's emotions and feelings, it's my fault that episodes of drama happen and it's my fault that I end up getting hurt, because hurting me is not her intentions. She even said and I quote her, they are the best parents I can come across, and that parents are always right and they know what is best for me, if only I would just listen.
She has huge issues with me "acting like a boy". For example, we have this unspoken rule in our area that female humans should pierce their ears.
I was really stubborn about not doing this, until my mother made a deal with me: I get to keep my hair short if I pierce my ears, so I got my ears pierced in 2020. Then, she gradually went from suggesting that I should at least let it grow a little bit to full on threatening me that if I don't grow my hair they'll disown me.
This was happening when I had poor physical and mental health, so I stopped being stubborn about it. But sometimes I do express my annoyance and grief over not having my hair short anymore, and she reacts by being angry over the fact that my behavior is not ideal and sadness over the fact that I don't listen to her.
Which is true by the way. Over these last two to three years, I am not being my best self. Whenever these episodes of drama happen (my mother lashing out on me because I am struggling or not acting like a girl or how a normal ideal human being is supposed to act like) I too react really negatively. For a period of time after each episodes, I don't respect them or don't listen to their orders, and don't try hard enough to study or take care of myself. My response to them seems to be doing what they don't want me to do.
This I do because I just don't see the point anymore, I don't feel like doing anything at all even though I logically know what, why and how I should do but I don't seem to do that. I feel numb. My days pass by in a blur and haze. My memory seems have been weakened.
My family mocks me because of this, they don't believe me that I seem to forget a lot, they say that I am making things up and, blah blah. Somedays I get a serious level of existential crisis. Other days I don't really care, and I feel lethargic all the time. I don't feel sad per se, because I am not aware or mindful of my thoughts and feelings most of the time but when I do become aware, a lot of the times I don't seem to know or understand what I'm feeling or why I'm feeling a certain emotion.
Like this post is taking a lot of time for the same reason. It's really difficult for me to recognize and compose my feelings into words. (Future me: Although I am editing from another post of mine, this took me 4.5ish hours to finish)
And sometimes I feel things really intensely out of nowhere. Like this one time I suddenly didn't want to exist anymore, it seemed to come out from nowhere. It was pointless to try to live anyway. I was causing a lot of pain anyway, what's one more by dying? Simply existing was so much pain, like whenever I was reminded or became aware that I am a living breathing thing existing in this space and time, I just, I don't know, I felt this huge grief over my existence. I don't know how to describe that, but it was an ugly emotion, I didn't want to feel it, but I felt it anyway.
I didn't attempt suicide, but I was close to sort of erasing my existence. I tried to erase myself. You know, by throwing out everything that made me me. I used to write to make sense of my thoughts and feelings, I used to write fanfictions and poetry. I threw them all. I deleted all the e-books and other stuff that I used to read, all the videos I used to watch, all the pictures I stored, all the musical pieces and songs I enjoyed listening to and all the website that I used to visit. All the things that shaped me to become what I am. All the things that reminded me of myself.
I now realize that I have developed an eating disorder(sort of?) over gender dysphoria. I don't want to eat because I don't want my body to produce female sex hormones that will lead to periods (Is it weird to be happy that my periods last only 2 days because of malnutrition and anemia?) and breast growing (Is it weird to be happy because I have a flat chest and I am skinny and rectangle shaped?). I love eating tasty things you know? But I unconsciously stopped eating properly. It's also because sometimes I simply forget to eat.
This seems to happen when I am hyper-focusing on something (usually unrelated to my studies). Heck, I forget to bath or brush or I forget when it's time to sleep too you know? But when I am aware that I should have a meal, I feel an internal resistance which I now realize is the fear that my body will produce appropriate levels of female sex hormones and make me look like I am a girl.
(I don't want to look like a girl, and I don't want to be mistaken as a boy, but mistaken as boy is better than people treating me like a girl. If only I could be neither, ugh.
As a side note, my mother is worried that my body doesn't seem to be producing enough sex hormones and is currently trying to force me to go see a doctor so that my breasts can grow bigger and my periods can last longer. I am terrified of this, I know this is causing health problems but I also really don't want treatment for this.)
And week or two ago, my mother was again telling me, not yelling at me or expressing anger but with a gentle tone, that I should work harder to study and I should take care of myself because for her it's really painful to see me like this, and she won't be able to accept me if I don't stand on my own two legs and I should try harder to take care of myself.
And that's the first time I realized that this needs to stop, this whole ordeal is harming my health and is causing all sorts of problems for me in my family.
I need to study to graduate next year and I need decent marks. But I can't seem to do so no matter how hard I try. I need to at least take care of myself but I face this internal resistance and this urge to self-sabotage, this urge to destroy myself and my life for some reason.
Can somebody please suggest and advise me on my best course of action?
I need good mental and physical health to study properly but I need to study to get access to good mental health treatment which will also help a lot in my physical health.
I want to get out of this situation.

Summary: Need treatment to study but need to study to get treatment. (And independence)

A fucking loop.

I’ve had an iPhone 3G, 5S, 8 and I’m currently rocking the 13. Since the first model I’ve had, I feel like one of the most frequently brought up anti-Apple argument, aside for the price, is the fragility. I had the 5S as a teenager and it scratched easily. By the time I switched the screen was really gnarly. The 8 was stronger already, though the back was also glassy iirc and I did manage to break that. But the 13? I’ve been wearing it caseless since day 1 and it’s nothing short of intact. It has scratch marks on the screen because of my nails, it has minor visible hits on the sides (it’s red so areas where paint has been removed are visible), but it’s still very solid. And I drop it quite a lot. I don’t know if this argument is still being used, but it sure as hell isn’t true anymore.

Just curious if anyone knows if this is herpes, syphilis, or an ingrown hair.
So I had unprotected sex on the 17th/18th but also had unprotected sex a week or 2 prior to this with multiple partners. I noticed some irritation yesterday when moving around and stuff and didn't think of anything about it. And then today I noticed the same irritation so I felt back there and I noticed there was a bump. It almost feels like more that it was like catching or like stretching the skin or something as I was like moving in my underwear.
It doesn't really hurt at all that much unless I try to squeeze it or something then it's a little more tender or if like I said the skin gets stretched or rubbed I can notice it a little.
It is kind of a little bit reddish but it's kind of by my taint area just below my buttocks. But it's the only one there isn't multiple bumps or anything like that this is the only one.
Here is a picture of the bump.

**Trigger warning for in-depth discussion of the deaths and bodies of children*\*
Many of you probably know the story of the Unknown Child, or Body #4 – the body of a baby boy recovered from the sea shortly after the sinking of the Titanic and buried in Halifax’s Fairview Cemetery. Unidentified for years, he was speculated to be either Gosta Palsson or Eugene Rice, tentatively identified with DNA analysis as Eino Panula in 2002, and definitively identified through improved DNA testing in 2007 as Sidney Goodwin. The Unknown Child has come to represent all the young lives who were lost in the disaster.
However, much less well-known is the mystery of Body #1. Pulled from the icy Atlantic on April 21^st 1912 by the cable ship Mackay Bennett, the body of an approximately 10-12-year-old boy was the first of 337 Titanic victims to be recovered. Officially, Body #1 was identified as Walter John van Billiard, a 9-year-old third-class boy who perished along with his father Austin and 10-year-old brother James William. He was buried next to his father, whose body was also recovered, in the Whitemarsh Union Cemetery of Zion Lutheran Church, Flourtown, Pennsylvania. However, doubt has always lingered among Titanic researchers and enthusiasts over the true identity of the body. In this post, I’ll examine the case for and against the body’s identification as Walter Van Billiard, investigate some other possibilities for its identity, and summarize my findings.
A few disclaimers: firstly, I’m not a professional, just someone who’s been interested in the Titanic (and specifically its child/teen passengers) for a long time.
Secondly, although I’ve never seen a detailed write-up on Body #1 before, others have discussed this topic and arrived at similar conclusions as mine, so I’m not breaking any entirely new ground here.
Finally, this post isn’t meant to disrespect or offend any of the Van Billiard family or to shatter the idea of a father and son resting beside each other. I’m just trying to take a critical look at the identification of Body #1 and suggest some alternate possibilities.
Approximately 115 Titanic passengers and crew under the age of 18 were lost, and very few of their bodies were ever found. In attempting to identify one of them, I hope to honour them all.

Part I: The Van Billiards

Walter and James van Billiard (photo here) were the two eldest sons of Austin Blyler van Billiard and Maude Murray. One or both boys had been born in Paris, France, but spent most of their lives in Africa, where the family was engaged in diamond mining. By April 1912, the Van Billiards had had four more children and wanted to return to Austin’s family in North Wales, Pennsylvania. They travelled to London, where Maude fell ill. It was decided that she would stay there with her parents and her four youngest children to recuperate, while Austin would take James and Walter ahead to America. Austin’s parents had never met any of their grandchildren before, and he wanted them to spend Easter together. Tragically, they booked third-class on the RMS Titanic, and the rest is history. No survivor accounts mention the Van Billiards by name, so it is unknown how they passed their time on the ship or how exactly they met their ends. A newspaper article (Daily Home News, April 23rd 1912) suggests the boys may have refused to leave their father, but it’s equally likely they simply arrived on deck too late to have the option of boarding a lifeboat.
What is known is that two bodies purported to be members of the Van Billiard family were later recovered and sent to Austin’s relatives in Pennsylvania for burial. Body #255, that of an approximately 40-year-old man with a dark red beard and moustache, was identified as Austin. Body #1, allegedly young Walter, was described as such:
No. 1 – MALE – ESTIMATED AGE. – 10-12. – HAIR. LIGHT.
CLOTHING – Overcoat, grey; one grey coat; one blue coat; grey woolen jersey; white shirt; grey knickers; black stockings; black boots
EFFECTS – Purse containing few Danish coins and ring; two handkerchiefs marked “A”.
Probably Third Class.
Furthermore, the “Inventory of the property found on the body of the late W. VanBilliard” adds that the purse also contained one United States cent and “three wooden disks.” This document can be viewed online at the Nova Scotia Archives website. Interestingly, “Unable to identify from clothing or effects” has been written across the middle of the page in pencil. Further down, it says “Remains shipped. See #255.”
Right off the bat, it's unclear why Body #1 was identified as that of 9-year-old Walter, as opposed to 10-year-old James – or, in fact, why a connection with the Van Billiards was made at all. The Philadelphia Inquirer of May 8^th 1912, reporting on the arrival of the bodies in Pennsylvania, states that identification was made “through the Red Cross Society and papers found on their persons.” However, no such papers are mentioned among the effects found on either body, despite this being common practice for the descriptions of Titanic victims’ bodies.
It is also noteworthy that no member of the Van Billiard family was reported as having identified or even viewed the bodies. Identification would, of course, have taken place at Halifax, where the recovered bodies were brought before being buried there or forwarded elsewhere, and I could find absolutely nothing to suggest that any Van Billiard travelled to Halifax to view them. The North American newspaper of May 8th 1912 states quite clearly that Austin’s father, Burgess James van Billiard, was in Pennsylvania when the bodies arrived. Maude and the other children were still in England, and in fact would not make the trip to America until February 1913, almost a full year after the disaster.
Moreover, it must be remembered that none of the Van Billiard family members in America had ever seen their grandsons. They may have seen photographs of them, but this doesn’t necessarily mean that they’d be able to identify a body which had spent six days floating in the freezing ocean. There are stories from other maritime disasters of the era, such as the General Slocum (1904), the Eastland (1915), and the Princess Sophia (1918) of children’s bodies being misidentified (or dubiously identified), even by close relatives. Therefore, even if Burgess van Billiard or another family member had seen Body #1, would that have conclusively proven that it was Walter (or James)? Or would it simply be a case of a grief-stricken human being clinging to the belief that their loved one was one of the few recovered from an icy grave?
According to Judith Geller’s Titanic: Women and Children First, “popular reports” of the time stated that Austin’s body was found with Walter’s clasped to his chest. However, as she goes on to state, this was not the case. This can be seen plainly from the numbers of the bodies, which were assigned in the order that they were retrieved. Body #1 was recovered on April 21^st, while Body #255 would not have been picked up until April 25^th, according to the diary of Mackay Bennett crewman Clifford Crease. Therefore, identification of Body #1 cannot have been made by its proximity to Austin Van Billiard.
The effects found upon Body #1 also do nothing to prove, or even suggest, that the body was that of Walter Van Billiard. It is true that the handkerchiefs marked “A” could have belonged to Austin, but “A” could stand for many other names of those on board the Titanic. The Danish coins are a tantalizing clue, but none of the Van Billiard family was known to have lived in or visited Denmark. (Of course, it’s possible that the coins could have been misidentified – perhaps they were actually Belgian or Boer, as the Van Billiards lived in both the Belgian Congo and South Africa; or Dutch, as Austin Van Billiard is known to have visited Amsterdam shortly before embarking on the Titanic. (Perhaps the “A” handkerchief was a souvenir from the city?) However, these are only theories.)
It has never been conclusively accepted by Titanic researchers and enthusiasts that Body #1 is that of Walter Van Billiard. Walter’s entry on Encyclopedia Titanica contains the footnote: “Because of the effects recovered with the body there has to be some doubt over the authenticity of the identification.” Similarly, Women and Children First states that “the body might in fact have easily been that of another Third Class boy.” That book’s section on the Van Billiards ends with the somber observation that “a monument to [the] husband and two sons … stands in the Whitemarsh Union Cemetery, but only two (and perhaps one) of them lie beneath it.” Whether or not Walter van Billiard was truly Body #1, one hopes that this (mis?)identification brought some solace to his surviving family members.

Part II: Other Possibilities

With it being established that there is no conclusive proof that body #1 belonged to either of the Van Billiard boys, let us examine other possibilities. I have assembled a list of all male Titanic victims between the ages of 8 and 14 whose bodies were never found. The reason for extending this range is that the estimated ages given to bodies were not always entirely accurate. For example, the body of 12-year-old William Sage was estimated to be 14, the body of 16-year-old Rossmore Abbott was estimated as 22, and the body of 17-year-old Ernest Price was estimated as 26.
Our candidates are:

1. Eugene Joseph Abbott, 13
2. Filip Oscar Asplund, 13
3. Clarence Gustaf Hugo Asplund, 9
4. William Neal Thomas Ford, 14
5. Charles Edward Goodwin, 14
6. William Frederick Goodwin, 13
7. Harold Victor Goodwin, 10
8. Frederick William Hopkins, 14
9. Husayn Mahmud Husayn Ibrahim, 11
10. William Andrew Johnston, 8
11. Albert Rice, 10
12. George Rice, 8
13. Betros Seman, 10
14. Karl Thorsten Skoog, 11
15. George Frederick Sweet, 14
16. William Albert Watson, 14

A few possibilities can be easily excluded from this list:

• Karl Skoog had been involved in a railway accident at the age of 7 and had to have his left leg and the toes on his right foot amputated. He used crutches for mobility. It is impossible that such an obvious feature as a missing or prosthetic leg would not have been noted in the descriptions of the bodies.
• Husayn Ibrahim and Betros Seman were from Lebanon. It is unlikely (though not impossible) that a Middle Eastern boy would have had blonde hair or carried Danish coins. Accounts from the era almost invariably describe Middle Eastern passengers as “dark-complexioned,” “foreign-looking,” or “Italian types” – a detail which does not appear in the body’s description.

Several more possibilities can be marked as unlikely, if not ruled out entirely:

• In the only known photo of the Goodwin family, the boys all seem to have had dark hair. The eldest boy, Charles, was also only 2 months away from his 15^th birthday, putting him at the very edge of our age range and making it relatively unlikely that he would be mistaken for a 10-12-year-old (let alone one who could feasibly be 9 years old).
  • However, one point in the Goodwins’ favour is that the body of their youngest brother, Sidney Leslie (the ‘Unknown Child’) was found, meaning at least one member of the family was above decks at the moment of the sinking.
• George Frederick Sweet was one day away from turning 15, and was not permitted (or did not want) to board a lifeboat along with his adoptive mother and sisters, implying that he looked his age and could not have been mistaken for a preteen. A purported* photograph of him circa 1912 also shows him as dark-haired. Finally, he was in second class, while the body was described as “probably third class” (although this is hardly conclusive).
• Frederick Hopkins and William Watson were members of the crew, Hopkins being a plate steward and Watson a bellboy. It is therefore possible, if not certain, that they would have been wearing some sort of uniform rather than the clothing the body was described as wearing. Furthermore, like Charles Goodwin and George Sweet, both were within several months of turning 15.

Our list is thus reduced to:

1. Eugene Joseph Abbott, 13
2. Filip Oscar Asplund, 13
3. Clarence Gustaf Hugo Asplund, 9
4. William Neal Thomas Ford, 14
5. William Andrew Johnston, 8
6. Albert Rice, 10
7. George Rice, 8

Now, let us look at each of these boys in turn and examine the evidence for and against them being Body #1.
Eugene Joseph Abbott:

• His last name starts with A, meaning the handkerchief could be his.
• He was originally from (and was returning to) the U.S., so may have carried American money.
• He was just 2 weeks past his 13^th birthday, meaning he could likely have passed for 12 (within the estimated age range for the body).
• He and his family were known to have been on deck right at the time of the sinking, rather than belowdecks in the steerage areas. His mother, Rhoda, was the only woman to be rescued alive from the water, and his older brother Rossmore’s body was found (#190).
• He may have had fair hair – his brother’s body is described as being “very fair,” though it’s unknown if this refers to skin or hair. An alleged* photo of him from the Pigeon Forge Titanic Museum shows a light-haired boy. However, both his mother and brother appear to have dark hair in photos taken of them.
• There is nothing to suggest he would have had Danish coins.

William Neal Thomas Ford:
Little is known about Ford, an English youth emigrating to the USA with his extended family and a family friend. None of their bodies are known to have been recovered (although they may be among the unidentified). He has no known connection to the letter A or to the nation of Denmark. Therefore, I see him as among the most unlikely of these boys to be Body #1.
William Andrew Johnston:
William Johnston, a cousin of William Ford, is a slightly more likely candidate for two reasons. Firstly, his father’s name (and his own middle name) was Andrew, providing a connection to the letter A. Secondly, in the one photo of him provided by the Titanic Museum in Pigeon Forge,* he appears to have had light hair.
Albert and George Rice:

• The Rice family is known to have been on either the boat deck or A-Deck on the night of the sinking (reported by family friend Bridget Mulvihill, who survived), and their mother Margaret’s body was recovered. In fact, her body was #12, meaning her body was presumably located far closer to #1 than Austin Van Billiard’s was. (Though this doesn’t necessarily mean much given how far apart the bodies might have drifted, how they might have been flung around by the ship’s foundering, etc.)
• They were originally from the U.S., having only lived in Ireland for about a year following the death of their father.
• Albert’s first name, of course, starts with “A.” One may imagine that, perhaps, Margaret Rice might have given handkerchiefs to all her sons with their own first initials embroidered on them.
• Their hair colour is difficult to determine from photographs – it looks on the darker side to me, but this may simply be due to poor lighting.

Filip and Clarence Asplund:
I believe the Asplund boys are the strongest possible candidates for body #1, due to the following evidence:

• They have, by far, the strongest association with Danish coins out of all the boys I have examined. The Asplund family was of Swedish descent; most of their 5 children had been born in the U.S., but they later returned to Sweden and had been living there about 4 years before deciding to return once again to America in 1912. Their home in Sweden was Alseda Village, Småland, located relatively far south in the country; they certainly lived closer to Denmark than anyone else on this list, and very likely passed through it on their way to England to board the Titanic. It is even possible that the coins were not Danish but Swedish – someone more knowledgeable about early 20^th-century Scandinavian currency would have to tell me how similar they looked.
• Furthermore, as they had once lived in the U.S. and were travelling back there, it makes sense for them to have been carrying American money as well.
• Obviously, the “A” on the handkerchief could be for Asplund.
• As Swedes, the boys could very well have had light hair. It’s hard to make out their hair colour in the only known photos of them (Filip, Clarence), but surviving siblings Lillian and Felix appear to have had light hair in some photos (1, 2)
• The entire family was known to have been on one of the upper decks (Boat or A) at the end. As third-class passengers, they arrived there quite late in the sinking. Mother Selma managed to board one of the later lifeboats (I have seen boats 10, 15, 4, and Collapsible C all suggested) along with children Felix (3) and Lillian (5), but somehow the three other children – Filip, Clarence, and Lillian’s twin Carl – were left on board with their father, also named Carl. Furthermore, Carl Sr.’s body was recovered (No. 142), further proving that the Asplunds were up on deck during the final plunge.

If I had to choose between the two Asplund boys for the true identity of body #1, I would suggest that it was 9½ year old Clarence, rather than 13-year-old Filip, due to the fact that those identifying the body clearly deemed it likely to belong to a 9-year-old. However, I think either boy is a likely option.

Part III: Conclusion

None of this is to say that I think the body couldn’t have been one of the Van Billiard boys. After all, there had to be *something* that caused Walter Van Billiard to be singled out amongst all the other possible candidates. Any of the clues I pointed out in this post may have been red herrings.
Maybe the “A” handkerchiefs were a parting gift from a friend whose first or last name started with that letter, or a souvenir of some city the boy had visited. Maybe the Danish coins were simply picked up off the deck, or given to this boy by a Danish passenger for whom he had done a favor. Maybe the age estimate was far off, and the boy was actually a tall 7-year-old or a very young-looking 15-year-old. Maybe Walter really is resting alongside his father in Union Cemetery, Flourtown, Pennsylvania. In the end, unless DNA analysis is ever done, we will never know the true identity of body #1.
My personal ranking of likelihood, out of all the boys examined, is:

1. Clarence or Filip Asplund (in that order), aged 9 and 13
2. Walter or James Van Billiard, aged 9 and 10
3. Eugene Abbott, aged 13
4. Albert or George Rice (in that order), aged 10 and 8
5. William Andrew Johnston, aged 8
6. William Neal Thomas Ford, aged 14
7. Harold, William, or Charles Goodwin (in that order), aged 10, 13, and 14 – I might even bump Harold (and possibly William) up higher than William Ford due to their younger age.
8. Frederick Hopkins or William Watson, aged 14
9. George Frederick Sweet, aged 14 (almost 15)
10. Husayn Ibrahim, aged 11, or Betros Seman, aged 10
11. Anthony William Sage, aged 12 – borderline impossible as Will Sage’s ticket was found on body #67, meaning that was almost certainly him. Perhaps an onboard friend of his had stolen his ticket as a prank, or they had switched tickets to keep as mementoes of each other, but I find this quite unlikely.
12. Karl Thorsten Skoog, aged 11 – impossible; his missing or prosthetic leg would certainly have been noted.

The true tragedy of Body #1 is the fact that there are so many possible candidates for its identification. In memory of all these boys and their families who were lost on the morning of April 15^th 1912.
^\I have some doubts about the veracity of some photographs from the Titanic Pigeon Forge Museum, but the vast majority of the photos I've seen from there are genuine. I can elaborate further in the comments if anyone is interested.)

What I think happened was. 1967. November 29th. A baby is born on Rokkenjima and taken in by Kinzo Ushiromiya, still deep in his mourning of the Golden Witch Beatrice. As this baby grows up, Kinzo shapes their identity under his upbringing and they grow up with a very stunted sense of self. EIther as some sort of disguise or to give themselves more fulfillment, they assume the identity of a young maid named Shannon and a younger servant named Kanon. This helps them navigate their life on Rokkenjima fine until the larger Ushiromiya family enters the picture, specifically Battler, Jessica and George, whose love for them begins to pull their identity apart. After a conversation with a 12 year old Battler about the kind of woman he likes, and getting even closer with George and Jessica in the years after, this person is at a crossroads on whos wishes get to be fulfilled: Shannon’s, Kanon’s, or Beatrice’s, and this all comes to a head on October 4th, 1986, where they facilitate a series of murders as an internal competition and as a demonstration to the person who affected them the most: Battler Ushiromiya.
….I THINK. I didn’t have the epiphany I thought I would have, more like a slow slow realization when I began to piece together the early-suggested possibility that Shannon was behind the appearances of Beatrice that Maria sees, the weird status of Kanon’s body at the end of almost every twilight, how Kanon had to bail Battler out in the first place, and the Love Duel itself, Shannon, Kanon and Beatrice all being on equal footing within it, and why Shannon and Kanon’s (and Beatrice’s) love had to be mutually exclusive in the first place. Plus more little details like the 19 paces coinciding with the perceived 19 people on the island (family + Beato) and the 19 years since the master of the game had been born, the narration and several characters like Featherine saying that the solution to the previous question or to the logic error could be the key to the whole mystery and is a part of Beato’s heart (her identity). George’s reminiscence of Battler and Shannon as a 12 year old with Beato’s own reminiscence of it coinciding with it. The fact that Battler has literally never seen Kanon and Shannon in the same room and the mystery of how Battler saw Beatrice after the murders of the fourth game. But I think that Shannon, Kanon, and Beatrice are all identities of one person, the 16th person after subtracting Kinzo, Kanon and Shannon from the initial 18, and that their disguises and faked deaths are the key to solving not just the logic error room, but the entire game and magic as a whole. Granted I don’t have *everything* figured out with this yet but I feel like I have my foot in the door finally.
Just starting with the logic error room, we know that Erika and Kanon entered and Batler left, the chain was reset when Erika entered, yet by the end of Erika’s search, Kanon was nowhere in the guestroom. Airtight locked room murder, practically no way to get out of this one, at least through the door. And for good measure, Hideyoshi, George, Nanjo, Kumasawa and Shanon are in the next room over while *everyone else* is in the cousins’ room, and during the escape, the seals to the doors of these rooms are intact. Genuinely the only in that I had on this one at first was the “everyone else” wording with Kanon’s status as furniture as my teeny little screwdriver I was trying to pry this thing open with. Of course the furniture thing is mostly a metaphor for the crested servants’ character arcs, and Genji is considered a person who would be included as “everyone else” but it was a start. Incidentally, my attempts before this episode had me reassessing the idea that Shannon could have disguised herself as Beatrice for Maria from the earlier episodes, and it was like I needed something to bridge these two ideas. And the fact of Kanon coming to save Battler being confirmed in red makes it seem useless to try to figure out how he got out of the cousins' room, but figuring that out was an important first step to my reasoning, as it helped me begin forming the idea that, somehow, to have been out of the cousin’s room, he would have had to be somehow less than one, to not be his own person, to not be included in “everyone else”. And taking this to the guestroom, it eventually dawned on me that, if *he* wasn’t his own person, and his love for Jessica couldn’t exist if Shannon was going to be with George, then maybe these two got in the way of each other because they were the same person, and if this was true, Kanon could escape the guestroom by discarding the disguised and identity of ‘Kanon’, removing him from the guestroom, since it was never specified that nobody was in there, only that Kanon wasn’t. ‘Shannon’ in the next room over could have gotten out through the window, since the status of the seals on the window is a hole that is pointed out in the episode, but Dlanor forbids it from being used, I think because bringing it up without solving Kanon’s identity would be solving the mystery incorrectly or at least out of order.
From here, you can take this to many of the other murders in Question arcs. I think I pointed out that Shannon’s body was hidden from George by Hideyoshi in episode 1, but rereading made me realize that not only had Battler not properly seen it either, but if Kanon was at the scene too, following my theory, the body could not have been Shannon’s. Whose it was I’m not sure. If Kumasawa got into her closet for this that would be funny. If they had a body prepared then sure. But this in conjunction with Kanon’s death not being seen by Battler later leaves this person without the identity of Shannon OR Kanon, free to run around the mansion murdering as they please. Even better if they are prepared to disguise as Beatrice as well, as this would have allowed them to have Maria turn around so they could kill Genji, Nanjo, and Kumasawa without harming her, and when the 4 others would come in and investigate, this person would slip out and kill Natsuhi. For Eva and Hideyoshi, since it was Kanon (and Genji who came upon the crime scene), I think it’s possible that the chain being locked was a lie on Genji and Kanon’s part.
As we know in Episode 2, Kanon’s corpse disappears after his death to the confusion of almost everyone, but this is because the body, as Shannon, is in Kinzo’s study “informing him of the murders” which after learning of Kinzo’s pre-game death means she can be doing whatever she wants. Since Kanon never shows up again, she operates as she needs to until she dies with George and Gohda. I think Shannon struggled with killing both of them. It seemed like there was a genuine struggle to even get the door open and overpower George and Gohda, so her and George could have killed each other, or she kills herself after killing George in mourning, because the final twilight is complete, or because she believes Genji or Rosa will take care of the rest. If Shannon was alive, Rosa stopping Battler from disturbing the body and then chasing everyone out would work for that, but Battler also witnesses like, the viscera of her head spilling out of the hole in it, which could constitute as a body check..? Maybe there’s some fuckery with how this Shannon looks to us and to the people inside the story, and that’s how she bypasses Battler’s body check? idk this one isn’t so solid but Kanon’s missing body is so damning to me. Battler does see Beato and Kinzo at the end and this could have been the culprit as Beato. Battler doesn’t get a good look at her and only sees Kinzo’s back as well. And the magic stuff at the end of every episode in my interpretation is Battler having died and the anti-magic, objective perspective being removed. So idk still working on that one lmao
The biggest thing for Episode 3 is the locked room chain, and having two of the servants being assumed identities really helps. Kanon’s body is ‘found’ in the chapel, a very remote part of the island, so his body is hard to confirm. On the other hand, Shannon is ‘found’ in the parlor, the easiest room to operate from and one that the adults were likely to break the locked room status of by shattering the window. Because Battler sees none of these bodies, the true nature is never confirmed, and it can be assumed that the culprit, having (momentarily) discarded Kanon and Shannon, once again has free reign over the mansion. This comes into play after Eva’s murders take the group into the mansion, starting with Rosa and Maria’s deaths as its unlikely the culprit would kill Maria this early. Kyrie kills Hideyoshi here, briefly surviving a shot to the stomach and either trying to hit Eva or retaliating against her where it would hurt (unwittingly damning her own daughter so yknow that’s not horrible at all). Back when I was a Kyrietrice truther (how I miss those days) I thought she survived much longer and killed George and Nanjo, but it turns out Battler checking her corpse in the metaworld means that Battler confirmed her death in the game too so bleh. But I think the culprit killed George and laid him in the parlor, possibly leading him in as Shannon. From here I think she plays dead as the survivors come in and while they’re distracted (Eva, Jessica and Nanjo are caught up in a fight while Battler overtly is checked out of the situation, not looking closely at the corpses at all), she sneaks out, only to be caught and shot at by Eva, which is what blinds Jessica. The shot isn’t immediately fatal but ‘Shannon’ is bleeding out fast and before she dies, she finds and kills Nanjo, “revives” Kanon, as Beatrice puts it, and leads Jessica out to where they will rest for the remainder of the game.
Chapter 4 is weird, it feels impossible to substantiate anything concrete when the whole island is a huge catbox to Battler, cooped up in the guest house, until after almost all of the murders are committed. WIth Shannon/Kanon in the dining hall with everyone, the best I can work out right now is the first six are shot down by them, the rest escape but are killed as well, at some point in between the 8th and 10th killings, ‘Kanon’ is discarded, making him the ‘9th death’, George and Jessica are killed, not before Jessica sees the dead bodies, is chased to her room and works out that if she gets caught, she’ll probably end up like the rest of them, which she tells Battler. At some point, Kyrie manages to get to a phone and call Battler before being killed. The most concrete thing I can deduce is that the hostage group was potentially never in the dungeon, the status of the dungeon’s existence in that space being up in the air, Kanon’s body is not at the bottom of the well that Battler cannot access, when Beatrice shows up to Battler at the end of the 4th and is spurned by Battler not remembering his sin, she finds a way to die as Shannon and be found.
Very hazy still obviously but idk how else Kanon escapes. Honestly "these clues and circumstances make one body unaccounted for so they can go do whatever" feels sorta cheap which makes me second guess all of this, obv theres some tricks to the locked rooms themselves still but I didn't anticipate that one possible theory would clear up so much. Also relies on the cooperation of some adults and Nanjo. Even tho I believe he’s nice I think Nanjo isn’t difficult considering he lies about Kinzo’s death for so long, and I feel like it wouldn’t be.. too hard to get any of the adults in on it if related to the inheritance? I still think some of Eva and Hideyoshi’s ep 1 behaviors are suspicious and it would be really funny and interesting if Kyrie was fuckin shit up. To me.
Overall if this is what the twist is, I think it's neat since Kanon and Shannon have been among my favorites from the beginning and the idea of them being so closely tied to the thematic core of the story is exciting. My idea of magic is so heavily informed by Ange’s story, it makes me wonder, since the Beato we saw in 67 seemed to live in a great deal of emotional neglect, neglect of her own self rather than of “Beatrice” (probably her mother lol), if this culprit is the same in that she was born from Kinzo and a Beato, likely the 67 one, and their personhood was ignored for the sake of Kinzo having Beato again, maybe “Shannon” and “Kanon” are similar to how Maria summons Sakutaro or Ange summons the sisters, and she summons the servants as a way of enriching her sense of self? Would be sort of interesting but it also feels like its crossing over into like DID territory and after playing like 2 danganronpa games worth of poorly handled stuff like that I dont know. I do kinda feel sad for Jessica not really getting to be with Kanon. They constantly get the short end of the stick, obviously because their love hasn’t developed like George and Shannon’s did over the past few years or even how Battler and Beatrice’s did over the past 5 games, but their love is so full of potential, and I love both of them so much. I’d love to just see them happy together but its not Jessica’s fate sadly lmao.
If we’re to believe that it was Battler’s sin that influenced all of this, I do find it to be really interesting how Battler tends to parallel Kinzo, as another extension of the idea that Kinzo keeps this very harrowing grip on all aspects of Beatrice’s/the culprit’s life. That Battler echos Kinzo’s yearning for the old Beatrice isn’t even solely tragic for Battler’s situation, it also has a lot of terrible implications for what we haven’t seen of Kinzo yet, if Battler’s projection of Beatrice as his former lover onto a girl who sees him as her father is any indication of what Kinzo was like. At the very least, I still love Battler and I think he differs from Kinzo by holding onto the love he had for his family. Even after six games, he’s still just as disgusted at the murders, especially so here, and the portrayal of the mothers of the Ushiromiya family in Battler’s game shows that Battler’s capable of a great deal of reflection and understanding, something that’s hard to believe Kinzo was ever willing to offer. For the sin itself it feels like it’s between Battler being like his grandfather, him neglecting the culprit in some way or him denying magic to her and by extension, her way of like and her worldview, like what we saw with young Ange and Maria.
My last thought on this theory is that it makes so much of the love game in ep6, specifically Zepar and Furfur’s commentary, incredibly funny with how on the nose it is, and shifting from the perspective of the elder Beato who doesn’t get it to that of Kanon and Shannon who are painfully aware, is very eye opening to how heavy handed their dialogue is. Yet another moment of the writers desperately trying to guide you to the heart of the mystery which is comforting as a staple of this whole story.
Looking back at the last post, it is funny how little I had to say about Erika Furudo then. She’s like my second favorite character now, as horrible as she is, and everything she does is in line with how she acted in ep5 (with one caveat we’ll get to), but just way more severe and like mask off about her cold-hearted rejection of emotional truths and desire for complete domination and control of what is accepted as the objective truth which is. very entertaining! Obviously saying a ton about the more clinical, quote unquote “intellectual” camps of mystery readers and writers and about how objective truth really is, which is all incredibly important to understanding the overall mystery, almost like a what not to do when playing Umineko.
But just focusing on Erika herself, she just feels so steeped in every detective trope you’ve ever heard of, and in a story that takes the time to build such nuanced dynamics and relationships between characters, the way she operates can be so two-dimensional it’s actually delightful to watch. Even when she’s given a backstory, it almost feels pre-packaged and thrown in to hastily give her depth and personal relation to truth on a conceptual level, as she is a detective, altho I don’t know if it’s completely hollow. Her back and forth with Dlanor is neat and her final response to it is an early tell that her refusal to recognize the emotions behind people’s truths is a fatal flaw of hers, probably caused by her falling out with her boyfriend. And with the whole game trusting you to see the emotions in everything and to not be cold and clinical in your assessment of the story, I can’t wholly believe she’s completely flat as a character, altho the commentary is still very unsubtle so idk fully. It’s not like bullshit characters can’t be meaningful, and I think there is a level of tragedy in the way she was fashioned on the game board as Bernkastel’s piece, trapped in the position of servitude to Bern, constantly emulating her callousness and seeking her approval, as if she’s like an author insert begging not to be removed by the author herself.
Like I said, she exhibits almost all the same behaviors she did in the last episode, just more brutally here. It’s almost like after failing to beat Battler at the end of episode 5, she’s trying to prove with everything she has that she really is a completely deplorable person, which she does when she fucking kills 5 people in what was supposed to be a non-tragic game, and she does this using the one thing that makes her different from last time: her lack of detective authority. Not only is is a cool trick that runs alongside her casting off the image of a noble seeker of the truth so she can debase herself in order to chase down a more twisted conclusion, it speaks a lot to her own capabilities that even without the privileges of a detective in a classic mystery story, she’s still able to bend the Ushiromiya family to her will and think miles ahead of Battler, making her all the more terrifying. Another thing that makes her different here is that she’s not just trying to solve the murders anymore, she is actively trying to catch Battler in a logic error, trapping him in the broken rules of his own game forever, and once she convinces him to give her seals to a few of the rooms, she does this incredibly easily, guiding Battler to his own damnation in what is, in my opinion, the best battle between the human side and witch side in the entire game thus far. It is absolutely fucking insane the lengths Erika goes to in order to completely destroy Battler. Her command of the game from the very start as if she had planned every mode both of them were going to make is just diabolical and after being a bit desensitized after the past 5 chapters of killings, her BEHEADING five people including a mom in front of her 9 year old daughter just to fuck up Battler’s game genuinely made me sick. And this is all heightened by how well written, translated, and voiced Erika is throughout the entire chapter. Before I got into Umineko, I’d seen videos of the scene completely out of context, and slowly I was drawn into wanting to play the game by the voice acting, the incredible music and tantalizingly rich atmosphere that I would have readily indulged in a full game of. But knowing the context of the scene now, how it acts as the final nail in the coffin of Battler and as the peak of Erika’s twisted level of ecstasy as she gleefully destroys this family, not just for domination of the truth but for the joy of revenge against Battler for denying her that ecstasy in the last game. It is just such an incredibly gripping stretch of scenes so fucking good oh my god.
All of this leads to the wedding of Erika and Battler, which really is the most deplorable action of Erika’s in this whole episode. Just the most disgusting subtext going on here that if you’ve read the novel I don’t even have to spell out. Just the depths she plummets to so she can exercise complete control over Battler. In stark contrast to the way Beatrice let Battler into her game, granting him the tools to understand her and to shed light on the mystery of her existence, finally granting her fulfillment, Erika is an intruder into Battler’s game in every sense of the word, and it’s Bern that created this monster in the first place to further toy with the lives of the Ushiromiya family, not completely different from how it was Kinzo's upbringing that made the adults of the Ushiromiya family who they were, leading to how theyr raised their own kids. Luckily Beatrice is the one who steps in at the last moment to save Battler here, exposing the one thing Erika cannot control: the emotions that are inherent to the facts of the murders. She cannot fathom that the solution to the murder isn’t some one million iq 4D chess move of Beatrice's and after an epiphany about the nature of multiple truths that not only feels kinda fake but is something Battler had come to 3 whole episodes ago with Virgilia and the Braun tubes, Beatrice and Battler’s final red truth shoots her down. Troll officially slayed don't be like Erika Furudo kids. Also there’s only 16 people on the island now! Hopefully you paid attention to Zepar and Furfur earlier. It is actually a funny wink wink nudge nudge that Beatrice entering the chapel to save Battler from the marriage runs parallel to Kanon entering the guest room. As if Ryukishi isnt already on his hands and knees tears in his eyes screaming and begging and groveling for the reader to understand whats going on here.
But yea Erika is a fascinating case study on the nature of truth, its objectivity and how it should be pursued. “True” does not always equal “right”, and the pursuit of objectivity can do immeasurable and irrevocable harm to innocent people just trying to find happiness in their own lives. I didn’t even mention her beefing with a literal 9 year old over a beginner magic trick, but it's clear here that her values run opposite to the games and the writers have a very very fun time criticizing those values through her. I learned this from a YouTube comment but apparently in some WTC bonus material, Rika from Higurashi mentions deep sea fish as omens of misfortune, which absolutely evokes the image of Erika washing up on the shores of Rokkenjima, foreshadowing the ensuing disaster. But after everything, as astute as she is as a riddle solver, she really has not even gotten out of the shallow end in terms of what the heart of a mystery really is, how trauma makes people act and why people are even driven to do the things that they do, ultimately looking like a fish out of water against this very magical setting. Get it like solitary deep sea fish honk honk
Other thoughts. I’m so happy to see Ange again! If the meta aspects of this story weren’t obvious enough, her and Hachijo/Featherine have the most overt readeauthor relationship, and it’s funny how Ange’s risen to Battler’s status of reader insert but in a different way. Battler and Beatrice have a combative, opposing relationship but the way she presents the murders to Battler and beckons him to figure them out very much reflects the writers’ desire for the reader to recognize their fiction. On the outside, it seems tricky but is actually very nurturing. Now, this late in the story, Ange and Featherine have a much more outwardly respectful relationship, likened to a miko and her guardian, although there is a little seedling of toughness that Featherine seems to hold for Ange, probably because of the latter’s stubbornness about some aspects of the story, with Ange also harboring contempt for Featherine sensationalizing her trauma with the message bottles. Funny inversion with Battler and I like the continued commentary on true crime. I also think Ange’s pursuit of the truth and trouble with emotions as Featherine’s reader slightly echoes Bern’s other piece, Erika, although to a much, and I cannot stress that Ange is not anywhere near as flawed as Erika, MUCH lesser extent, and Ange clearly has a higher chance of actually coming to an understanding at the end of the episode, plus its more understanding of Ange to want some power over the narrative as someone whose life was nearly ruined by it, rather than a piece who was just dropped in without any other relation to the Ushiromiya’s, despite being at the mercy of her master. Hate M Zakky guy plotting to kill her at the end altho I figured he sniped those Sumadera henchmen for her earlier and its not surprising but. le sigh
And because you know I have to always bring up Kyrie. That scene with her and Jessica was. Amazing. When Jessica's eyes glazed over and prison strip started playing I lost my mind. Genuinely such a compelling backstory for Kyrie and I love Jessica’s challenge to it, and her finishing line that, as much as Kyrie has been both empowered and terrorized by her jealousy, it does not make her a noble person, and this idea that trauma doesn’t automatically make you virtuous, I believe, will probably be very pertinent to the ultimate mysteries of the story. Besides that, one detail I caught is Kyrie talking about having worked up the nerve to kill Asumu over many many years, and she calls it a miracle that some other force took her the moment that she would have. Earlier this episode, and it’s been echoed in the previous ones, Featherine mentions that magic, as something limited by human ability, is the power to follow through with or get away with it. It really makes me think that. Kyrie could have just. Killed Asumu and is using magic to exonerate herself fdsfdsfds .I mean I’m always biased to my idea of murderer bastard Kyrie and the mountain of circumstantial evidence I thought I had with that and I do think its really funny!!! That she’s the only adult who seems to know how to handle the WInchesters well enough to do it one handed in her cg AND her portrait (og and pachinko not ps3). But hey idk. Every time she makes that closed eyes open mouth portrait it makes me think that she might not be any more savvy than the other adults about whats going on so even if its not serious i can still dream

(OPEN & LOOKING)

Hello!
LONG POST! Image heavy (and shitty loading times). 5 Pages! Apologies for the length, trying to pre-empt your questions and show fixed scope.

Request:

One person with excellent, higher-order programming skills in Godot GDScript who could pair with my graphics and programming abilities for a highly popular 1990's game title, top down racer remake.

Game Synopsis:

Single player, Super Cars Clone but more realistic + crazy + more detailed and prettier graphics. With 1990’s styling and Roguelite-ish collect & combat precepts throughout.
Image set

Citing the Original Game:

Explanation video of Super Cars 2, 1990’s charm: Descriptive Video
Just flick through these next two videos, no need to watch to completion. This is to show you how dated they are.
Long Play video of original Game: Amiga Super Cars 2:
Earlier Super Cars 1: Long Play Video

Proof of Concept Test Video:

Here is a proof of concept video with artwork (no props except for road elevation).
Concept Video

Proof of Concept, Playable Game:

You can download and play it here. Do note: Road elevation changes marked by Red and Green rectangles on track, in case you’re confused about varying accelerations. AI is hypershit.
Playable Game Link
Some of the old video’s on there show the lo-res flippers, water cannons, pits, pins, rough roads, trains, etc, in working order.

Synopsis of Theme:

You are an up and coming racecar driver. It is the 1990's when flamboyant super cars, daring films(James Bond esq) and thrilling car races are all the buzz. Catching this excitement, a movie studio has noticed your driving talent. During a racing season, you'll be given access to 'unique' races at movie locations. Ie: "Blues Brothers Mall scene", or driving through a mine site with giant excavators and blasting of rock walls for that all important movie-shot. Or, many other weird and unusual prop-heavy locations, like a slime factory, or an industrial petrochemical plant complete with fiery explosions and other such spectacular events. To achieve access to these, you need to prove your worth on the daily race track. Many are non-ordinary tracks. They'll have things like giant water canons to push you around, wobbling roads, uneven rocky tracks, dips, jumps, giant pinball flippers, oil firing canons, trains and other devices all while in furious and intense competition with other NPC drivers.
Be forewarned, the video’s below show a distinct lack of polish. Ie: skidding-black level on packed dirt, no inertia correction in skid, no proper power to gear ratio etc, etc.
Mine Site and Prop Test Free Drive:
This one would be more or less representative of a special type track (due to location).
Katawarra mine
Plugin Functionality test:
Plug-In, Multi-Prop-Installations (shopping centre test), farmland, pushroads and cutaway view of mountains.
Plug In Building Test
And have another jungle track for good measure.
Jungle scene free-drive

Overview of Game ‘Chunks’:

Some Cars
Ok. in absolute brief: You start at ‘D’ category, have access to those cars and parts at that level. Above, cars on the left are ‘D’, then the next two are ‘C’, then next two are ‘B’, ‘A’, and the last two are ‘Ultra Class’ category. Each Category is an entire season of 10 tracks each. Including special event tracks.
On the roads, there are props, you plough into them for rewards, and special things called ‘chits’. Props are fences, oil drums, wood piles and anything that looks like it needs a good smashing.
Ultimately, Chits are used in a mini game (like Wheel of Fortune), to earn higher grade parts, cash prizes and even a better car than your current season’s level cap.
There’s a parts shop, a car shop, a Tv studio(for the WoF bit) and your assembly garage.
When you complete a season, if you make it into the top 3 racers at the end, you can upgrade to the next season D -> C. That means better and faster cars, higher grade engine parts, more challenging drivers, more tracks and bigger prizes on the Wheel of Fortune spin mini game. And you keep going until you reach Ultra class, where you’re driving monstrous hypercars against the best to win the entire full season.
It is meant to be a difficult game, just like the original. Practice makes Perfect.

Market Expectations:

Do note: Top down racers are NOT big money earners, so don't expect a huge audience. We would probably be lucky to fit just Below 'Make Way' at position 15.
Steam stats

What Happened and why am I doing this:

Me: Senior IT Manager. (BMech Eng.). + Hobby Artist (Pretty OK & particularly fast) + VB6 Coder (Strong skills). Was working on a BIG VB6 program for enjoyment. (https://nelfid.com/)
(https://www.reddit.com/roguelikedev/comments/1aeaoo8/2024_in_roguelikedev_monstergirl_resonance_call/ )
Had to stop. Looked at Godot for continuation, seriously impressed, started learning it, WOW. Decided to build a racer for shits and giggles and to learn from it. Ok, fun, easy, cool, and then decided to upgrade it with pretty graphics and decent gameplay. Game testers went nuts, I went nuts. Too much fun.
But, I’m long suffering from a sleep disorder. So re-re-re-learning Godot between medical hiatuses isn’t fun. However I can churn out art and Godot prop code no matter my condition.
I’m still a beginner at Godot, an advanced coder in VB6, I can prototype well. HOWEVER, I’m better at smashing out tracks worth of art, cars portraits, cars sprites, car cutaways and Godot track and props setup.
What I am NOT good at is the higher order setup of minimising repeat code and proper setout of node hierarchies (I haven’t learned it yet). I’m tired of bashing my head against, all the old vector math, engine math, gearing data and power curves. (I graduated that stuff at University too many years ago.)
I’m looking for someone who likes THAT, car-frictiony-enginey-handling-math. Someone who likes building car-part-shop-garage-drag-drop-thingy-interfaces. Someone who enjoys a good thrash and smash car game with a penchant for comedy and silliness. Someone who’ll also help with all the OTHER things needed to put a game on Steam and random marketing functions. Someone who knows how to handle multi-packed scenes and not build shit code.
As needed, I’ll be covering ALL the art, all the interface art, you-name-it, you just make it work. I’ll also be building and drawing all the tracks. Ideas and creation for silliness, wackiness, interesting tracks, cool props, etc, will be a duo effort for building them. If you have art skills too, great, join in.
Do note: I’m aiming at hand-drawing 50 tracks in grand total, their props and variants. This is an astronomical amount of work. I WILL get burnout, and the contingency is to ask the audience for fun and silly ideas too. This way, the track-select-bucket can be filled over time. Even after Steam’s Early Access commences. Seriously, you’ve got to go above and beyond to stand out nowadays.
Have SQLite skills? Good, because we will be using it.

Build Time:

Speculatively guessing for build time. Minimum time 3 months. Maximum time 6 months to complete.

Goal Post 1:

Schedule I'd like to do: Prep the game with a first stage demo. As per above, but with say 3 tracks, and 3 different user cars and proper NPC AI. Chuck that on Steam as a first port of call. This shouldn't take long as the shop/parts/Tv studio are not relevant here. Just racing and a simplistic track select menu. Car types can be basic hard coded engines and handling here (ie: no part swapping yet).

Goal Post 2:

Second stage demo: and with it, Early Access. Entire Season 1 Tracks ready. All stuff is here, shops, parts, Tv studio. Category 'D' racing is fully open here. The user can run through the whole 1'st stage, 10 tracks (with celebrity tracks included). However, more difficult grades C, B, A and Ultra cars, parts and other tracks are not available. This is so the users can get a 100% feeling for the game, and if they want to go to the next level (more difficult, more tracks, more parts, more cars, more excitement) they'll have the incentive to purchase the full game. Early access means we'll start dumping down new tracks and celebrity tracks as they get made so EA's can get them in the random bucket as we go along.

Goal Post 3:

Real Launch: Everything done, but tracks might not be fully complete yet (at least 50% done). Track selection is done from a diminishing pool randomly selected per each season. If short, it will select from the bucket again. At this stage the entire game should be coded in full, with the exception of new props for upcoming tracks. Which you'll be helping out with.

Marketing:

Marketing is informal at the moment, and happy to share ideas and discuss approaches accordingly. Currently I've been collecting relevant forum/group websites for those who love or may love this stuff.

Sound:

Music and sound effects assets will be from sites like Zapsplat and other affiliate style sites. (So we'll need to program in a car CD Player or Tape Deck, lol) If worthwhile to translate for other languages, we can do that as it's not a text heavy game.

Revshare:

Rev share will be pinned at 50/50 unless there is some other extenuating circumstances. Official company setup and final legals will occur immediately prior to Early Access -> pending interest level by users.
You won't be 'just' coding. Wherever we can both cover each other's backs to smash things out as fast as possible, you'll need to be flexible. Game's are not just coding and artwork.
I expect you to be proactive because I’ll have my hands full with art and technical props.
Let’s do our best to get it over the line.

Response:

I won’t be responding to Discord currently. My account seems to have been inactive-erased, I haven't ‘dug’ in my records for it, that’s a ‘later’ thing. DO NOT DM me, myself and others want to see and verify who you are first, exclusively write below.

Timezone:

East-coast Australia timezone, happy for any talent, anywhere. English language only.

About you:

If you are interested and have some seriously strong Godot skills, please introduce yourself, what you've done, programming background, any training or other videos you've made (please link them). Can you program caengine physics and road AI exceptionally well already? How do you avoid spaghetti code? How long have you been tackling Godot? Do you know shaders? What are your daily hours/location? What can you do for your 50/50 rev-share of this project?
Corso
^{Have some AI Generated art for theme and ideas fishing. Note: I won’t be using AI art anywhere, this is only for sticking into the ideas-box and to give you a feel for what the game is about.}
Coverart Ideas
^{Lastly, if you’re good and we work well together, I’m happy to discuss any future projects that require similar arrangements. There is a mountain of short-term, popular 90’s and similar games begging for modernisation and graphical updates.}

I had a few weird segments of dreams today. In my first dream, I was in a room with people, a few classmates showed up before I left. A german guy took notice of me, enamored. I thought about how I must ethnically look to him, wondering why he found me attractive. He let me go, giving me permission to leave the building. I saw a spanish girl who was one of my old classmates, about to give her a makeover. She asked me to give her one. I was already eyeing the orchid lipstick next to her, wanting to try it. I wanted to use it on her, wondering about what color nail polish was here. After talking with the man, I gave him a embrace, feeling his bald head against my arm. He also had a black leather coat/jacket. I asked if he liked david cross, to which he responded eagerly, amused.
I then found myself in a room with pedophiles, with other young people there. I was unsure if I'd get to escape or not. I made friends with a blonde girl that was there. She didn't seem to like me that much. I was able to convince a fat guy who was one of the pedos, to leave. I grasped his attention, somehow being too attractive or not for him. I don't remember if he liked me or not. He let me go. I found out while talking to the girl that Ben Savage had raped her in the ass back in the '90s. He tweeted about it, owning up/admitting to it. It was surprising for an actor to do that. I took off, finding the corridor in the mall that I always see in my dreams. It leads to a hall that I take, where all the '90s stores are. In the lobby, I took my favorite hall, running through it. I tried to get as far away from the nightmarish environment I came from, yearning to be safe in this safe place. I've done this before in past dreams. The mall is usually where I go if I need somewhere safe to hide.
I couldn't believe that I was dreaming, it felt so real. I thought about how I spend too much time at the mall, like a millennial/xennial. How often I can go to the mall. I don't do this in real life, the mall is one of the only good things where I live. I ran some more, nearly lucid. I don't remember how I transitioned to the next segment.
Back home, I was leaning against the wall. There was a pipe at my side. I was probably pressed up against the metal armrest on my bed. I vaguely remember a bowl of water next to me in the dream, worried about my collection of food getting stolen. I had a couple boxes of little debbie cakes. The newest one was a vintage looking box of valentine cakes or cupcakes. I recognized it from online, seeing it on google before. Late '90s - y2k era. It had pink iced on the cakes. The sprinkles were red, white, and purple. Maybe pink too. My mom gave it to me. 'Those are rare. That's the one from the late '90s..' I told her. She nodded, agreeing with what I was saying. She knew that the boxes she saw and wanted to buy were harder to find, like the brownies and cordials. This has happened in real life, except the cakes weren't a vintage formula. My brother tried to take some, after I even covered the boxes with a sheet. The icing on some of the cakes were wrinkled imperfectly. Just then, a volleyball style net took over the room. I leaned against the piping, dodging what felt like a spider on my hand. Tarantula. The room was now just me and my brother. A group of guys included, that I did not know. I ended up killing it, smacking the spider to the ground. Before I even knew what creature it was. I felt it's thorax slightly, picturing it's bottom as white with red square specks on it. I aggressively beat it away like a volley ball, killing the spider. I was shamed for it. It turns out, it was an ancient spider. A young version of my man approached me, sympathetically. I wrapped my arms around him, gently. He mentioned a list of animes to me that he liked. I saw blue popup bubbles form in the air. I don't remember what all happened. We sat and talked, until he got up and ran back towards his friends. Almost immediately, a guy that looked like a fushion of my partner and ex/my abuser, came up to me. He had very light blonde hair and glasses, like a typical nerd in a '80s movie or sitcom. He was domineering, making this the most uncomfortable segment of the day. I saw one of my old classmates again that was in one of my last dreams, who loves michael jackson. '90s makeup was placed around, lipsticks. Vintage. I grabbed at one that was in a clear tube, reading the number on the bottom. It was probably silver. So a maybelline tube. Frosted and brown colored.
I looked into a vanity that was infront of me, a full and wooden one. I think it was wood. I was looking for some liquid lipstick, hearing the guy who seemed like my partner say the words 'liquid lipstick' to someone behind me. I picked up a green lipgloss, liquid and in a small thin tube. I already had a blue-green lip stain on, satin finish. I applied the green to my lips, ruining the lipstick that was on before. And it was barely covering my full lips. It was subtle. The green streaked over my natural lip line, looking liquidy. One of of the two pictures ontop of the wooden dresser, a few feet away, was a photo of madonna. It had the words, 'natural beauty' on it. Her red lipstick was also liquid and overdrawn, clownish. Both ads had women with the same forehead length. Martian looking. There was a miniature figurine on the floor, along with wrapping papers and plastic underneath it. I was wearing a futurism outfit, with footy boots. Barberella vibes, I was getting. I heard the guy explain that he was a feminist, trying to virtual signal to the other women in the room. He mentioned creating something to spread awareness on endometriosis. Which I actually have. I took notice of the tiny figurine, unaware that he was approaching me. I immediately flipped onto my back, seeing my boots change. From futuristic and footed, to clear and translucent boots. With laces on them. He tied my boots for me, which embarrassed me. We made eye contact as he tied my boots. I laid on my back, looking at the miniature figurine, unable to get any look at it at all because it got wrapped up. Right as I turned my head to look. Across from me was another girl. I was not able to react, placed in a plastic seal. I got zipped up inside it, looking at the girl in front of me. In her own plastic sealed case. A bed inside it. Brown and 1960s era. It was like we were dolls, ready to be shipped and packaged for the toy store. I woke up after this.

My 2.5 month old boy kitten has a red dot/fleck/mark/debris on the cornea of his eye. I noticed it a week ago and its still there, unchanged, and in the same spot. It is a 1mm x 1mm solid red square 🟥. As far as I can tell, he is completely unbothered by it, it’s like it’s not even there. No irritation, no bleeding, no wincing and no discharge. His pupils dilate as they should, and his sight is fine
I figured it was either something caught in his eye and his tears/eyelid would wash it away or it’s an odd injury from playing with his brother.
I have a few photos with his pupil contracted and expanded and his eye in different positions. You can see the shadow of this dot on his iris. Which is why I’m thinking it’s ON his eye and not IN his eye. (I don’t know how to provide these photos in this subreddit, I have them posted in another subreddit)
I was hoping to see if anyone here has seen something like this before as no one I know + google searches don’t show me anything remotely like this.
He is orange. So maybe this is his brain cell trying to escape? Jokes aside, I would appreciate any advice and or guidance on this! Thank you!

F23, 5'4" obese, do not smoke or drink, current medication is ferrous sulfate 325 mg thrice daily. Diagnosed anemia and vitamin D deficiency, unmedicated ADHD and insomnia.
I've had an epidermoid cyst on my lower right side (abdomen) since January that would have short periods of inflammation but was mainly asymptomatic. One week ago, it became very inflamed and painful so I visited the doctor last Wednesday. It was diagnosed as an infected/inflamed cyst and I was prescribed a six-day course of antibiotics and anti-inflammatory medication that I am now halfway through. I woke up today and found it the most inflamed I have ever seen it (3-4 times its usual size), more painful, red, and warm to the touch. I took my antibiotics and left it as is.
I just woke up from a nap and found that it burst in my sleep, with a large quantity of bloody pus on my bed and side. I feel slightly feverish and the area is painful but otherwise fine. Should I clean up and just wait until my follow-up appointment in five days or does the popping necessitate urgent attention?

Content Warning: Contains themes of drug trafficking, violence and profanity
Ain’t No Fun When The Rabbit Got The Gun
“Ay yo, Mo-Mo, maybe you should be careful what you wish for. Things is basically goin’ all right now but they can get worse for us real quick I think. We can prolly smooth this shit out. We should try and talk wit them, for starters at least. Shit.”
He just looked at me with something dark and dangerous swimming through the shallows behind his gray-green eyes.
Sure, it would have been easy to just go along with the rest’a them but my pops raised me to play chess, not checkers, from a young age and I learned a few things about thinking two or three steps ahead. I aint no dumb muthafucker. "Taking the long view", that’s what they call it. I never went to college and I don’t know my IQ score (I never even took the SAT) but I like to think I aint just some dumb nigga from down the block. I don’t know where you from but out here, where I stay, you best be at least a little bit smarter than these streets.
So when Big Mo said it was time to take out Nando and Nestor - N&N’s what everyone call them - and the rest of the crew all agreed, I was obligated to disagree. There was only 6 of us but I was still "The 10th Man", as they say, and I knew about the 10th Man Rule. (My pops taught me about that shit too.) I was Mo’s top lieutenant - we went to grade school together back at P.S. 157 in the Grove Hill section of the South Bronx - and we been together for a minute but things had gotten a little shaky between us just lately so I really didn’t want to speak out, but I had to.
“Ay yo, man. If you aksin’ me? I say we let em’ have that shit for now. We got like four more empty blocks going south that we can just stretch out into without bumpin’ up against no one and if we keep on putting out that good shit in the blue Comotosa bags these junkie muthafuckers are still gonna come to us, even if it’s a few extra blocks. Ay yo, I think you already know this, Papi. Let’s try to be smart about this shit for just a minute. Bullets is cheap but pay lawyers cost money, nigga. Big money for real.”
N&N sold coke and dope in our neighborhood of East Tremont way back before we did. Nestor’s dad was slinging out here before I was even born and his boy inherited the family business when pops got sent up to The Hill on an A-1 charge like, shit, at least 15 years back. I think that was his third. I was just a kid then but he still up there and I heard he killed a nigga and he aint comin’ back. Things was all good though until recently, when they started to push down onto the corners we been holdin’ down for years, them blocks between the Concourse and Jermone Ave just south of Tremont. Not even a courtesy convo. Those blocks always been ours but lately we’ve had beef, and now we got bodies.
When Berto got shot in the leg about a month back it set things off to start with but everyone was down with Tiny - that funny fat-ass muthafucker - and they was all heated up real good when he got smoked tryin’ to run off that corner in his baggy-ass pants. Tiny couldn’t run for shit and took three in the back. We just got home from the service with his family and all, everyone cryin’ and shit. Niggas was pissed off for real, out for blood. Six dudes, nine handguns and two cut-downs on the table, everyone ready to go out and buck.
“I done been smart for a long time, Primo. I think you know, else I wouldn’t be here now, right? But maybe this is a time for muscle tho’, not brains. What’choo think, man?” Mo raised his chin towards me. It was half a question and half a challenge. They all looked at me. I knew I was out on a real thin branch to begin with so I just backed the fuck off.
“Ay, obviously it aint my call. I’m just….tryin’ to give you sumthin’ else to think on, Mo-Mo, that’s all. Options, man. I’m wit you however it go, you already know this. Shit. Where I come from? Who my peoples?” I shrugged and lit a cigarette and then just looked down at the floor.
I knew he wasn’t gonna listen.
“All right, let’s mount up muthafuckers. We on the hunt and we aint comin’ back until we drop at least three of them bitches. We gonna start at that busy corner they got on 177th and roll on from there. I know where Nestor’s grandma live and that’s where he stay most of the time. Either there or his girl’s crib down Fordham. I know where she stay too. We gonna spill some blood. Straight up. Yo Willy-Boy, go pull the truck around and we’ll see you out front in like a minute.” He threw the keys to his Escalade to the youngest kid in the room. I had a real bad feeling about the whole thing. It was too quick. They would be waiting, ready.
We all piled into the truck and I took the passenger seat, snicked a round into the chamber of my pistol and clicked off the safety. Mo had one of the cut-down shotguns in his lap - a Benelli 12 gauge loaded with pumpkin balls - as he drove. He didn’t look at me. When we got down to 177th Street and circled the corner I was relieved to see there was almost no one out there. I just assumed the 5-0 came past and business would be back up and running in like ten or fifteen minutes. We started to circle the block.
“Yo, Mo-Mo, let me out up at the corner here. I need to grab a deck of smokes and something to drink. Y’all niggas want anything?” They were all tensed-up and no one wanted shit so I stepped out on the corner and told them I’d be right back, then I walked into the bodega.
I took my time. I stood in front of the cold case for a while and looked at my phone, even though I already knew what I wanted. Then I took a can of root beer up front and made some small talk with the counter man for a while, an old Dominican dude who had been running that place since I was just a kid. We was both Yankee fans. I bought a lottery ticket and then I bought a pack of Newports, opened it and lit one, and by the time I walked back out the store the Escalade was gone, as I knew it would be. This was a real narrow one-way street and there’s no way that Big Mo could just stay double-parked out there without blocking traffic for a minute or two. Like I said, my pops taught me to think a few moves ahead. Chess, not checkers.
I stood out there in front of the bodega for a minute, smoking my cigarette, and then I heard the pop…pop…pop of gunfire and the sound of a car crash, which is basically what I expected. Big Mo was always just a little too hot. A little too quick to get involved whenever shit was jumpin’ off.
I waited to see if the Escalade would come racing up the block towards me but when it didn’t I started to jog in that direction. I heard the police sirens right when I got close enough to see Mo’s Caddilac slammed up against a few parked cars with all the windows shot out and he was slumped over the wheel. The corner was empty by then. I turned around immediately and began walking back to my crib with my head down.
I laid low for a while, “going to ground” as they say, but I knew N&N’s hangouts better than Mo-Mo did. Shit, I knew the pizza place just off Fordham Ave where all them niggas like to eat. I just chilled at home for a minute and watched some movies on Netflix and waited til’ the time was right, about two weeks later.
“What up muthafucka, you aint get a slice for me? God damn, nigga! Who pay yo bills? You know I’m hungry like a Goddamn wolf, always. What’s up? I really gotta aks?” Nando hopped out of his Lexus with his phone in one hand and looked at his man Nestor with both palms raised in a gesture of insult and offense.
That’s when I came out of the alley behind the pizzeria with my hoodie tucked over my head and put down Nestor with three shots to his chest from my Springfield .45 from less than fifteen feet away. It’s a big gun and I knocked that muthafucker straight out his shoes, sent his pizza sailing into the gutter and the rest of them young‘uns just ran off towards the Concourse. Everyone but Nando. He was just too close, which is how I planned it, and he knew that runnin’ was pointless.
He tried to get all hard with me for a minute and I saw his eyebrows scrunchin’ up but as soon as he started talkin’ I just pistol-whipped that muthafucker in the mouth and knocked out a few of his teeth. He fell to the sidewalk and then pulled himself up against the wall.
“Sup’ Nando? Aint no fun when the rabbit got the gun, right?,” I said in a quiet, scratchy voice and then smiled and chuckled at him for a second or two while pointing the barrel of my pistol directly into the center of his face as he wiped away some of the blood running down his chin.
“Shit, I don’t think your boy Nestor’s gettin’ up over there. What’choo think, man? Looks like you fresh out of muscle.” I looked over at Nestor’s dead body lying half on the sidewalk and half in the street, his white NY Knicks jersey turned mostly red at that point and I smiled some more.
“Cuz yo, with y’all gone I think I’m taking over the rest of Tremont Ave, little man. We prolly could’a worked this shit out if you just came past to talk. But nah. Not you. You too big for talk, right? Too late for talk now though I think.”
I didn’t waste no time. I just looked around to make sure no one was witnessin’ up close and then I put two in his dome. I snatched up his pocket money, his rope chain, his rings and his Rolex (I mean, you gotta be stupid to just leave all that shit behind) but I left his Glock .40 on him and then I jogged off towards Fordham Ave with my head down and my hoodie up.
Yeah, Daddy. Fuck Nando. He got his. I paid some of the little shorties from around the way to go and shoot out them street lights the night before so I wasn’t trippin’ about no security cameras. It was dark and I ain't never heard nuthin’ about it afterwards. Nuthin’. I don’t think the police round here care about this shit really. Just one street nigga killin’ another. They prolly like it that way.
I wasn't worried. I had business to tend to anyways. I had new territory to run and I knew I might need to handle up for a minute; make sure no one got no problems with the new arrangements. It was all good though. I had peoples standing with me. I know how to muscle up, for real. Shit. People always need to get paid. It’s just a matter of money, like everything else. We can hold this down. Might be a few bodies but that’s just what they call “the cost of doing business.” Ain’t no thing.
And things was working out just fine, for a while. Only two bodies got dropped, neither of them on my team, when Spring turned to Summer and then it got real hot, real quick. Not the police, but the weather. It’s like that out here. All concrete, no trees.
I was out on East Tremont two blocks off the Concourse one day in late June, just tryin’ to stay cool in the shade and collecting some dollars and paying off some of my peoples when I seen this little kid coming down the block with a grape soda in one hand, minding his own business. I only noticed the little nigga because he looked at me for a second when he got closer. I didn’t really think shit about it. I run all these corners round here and the shorties all know whassup, so kids look at me all the time. Ain’t nothing unusual. They need work but I ain’t got enough to go round for every little nigga in the South Bronx. Shit.
I was just telling Red Light - we call him that cuz he ran a red light and hit an NYPD roller from the 48th a few years back and got his ass beat for real - that my boy Shiny would come past with a re-up package for him in about an hour or two, when all’a sudden this shorty drops his grape soda on the sidewalk and pulls a little deuce-deuce auto from his pants and before I know whassup I catch three in the gut and one skimmed the side of my neck. Little shorty motherfucker tried to put one in my head too but he was already running off at that point and he only took off the top of my left ear.
It didn’t matter. I coughed up some blood and I knew I wasn’t never gonna make it to the ER up at Misericordia. That’s the only Level-1 trauma unit round here and I seen enough niggas get dropped in these streets to know it’s your only chance when you catch a few. Shit. They take you to one of these other B-list hospitals round here they might as well just leave you where they found you.
I only ever done dope a few times back when I was just a kid but Red Light was leaning over me and aksin’ what to do, so I told him to just give me a couple of them blue bags. I didn’t have no works to shoot up with (I ain’t no dope fiend) and no time neither so I just dumped that shit out on a c-note and snorted it up. Then I told Red Light to give me two more. Shit, if I was going out slow I might as well try to kill the pain, right? I couldn’t get those next two bags down though. My throat was filling up with blood by then and I was choking on it.
I remember how everything just started to fade out around then. I seen Red Light take the bloody c-note from my hand along with the rest of the cash I spilled out onto the sidewalk. He started to hustle off down the block as the sirens got closer but then he ran back and grabbed my Patek Philippe wristwatch and my gold chain, that muthafucker. I was too weak to stop him or even to reach back for my Springfield.
I guess I forgot that Nando had a kid, or maybe I just didn’t think about it at all. I don’t know. I had other shit to worry about and I thought he was just a little nigga, and he was, but still big enough to pull a trigger though. It don’t take much.
When the EMTs came rushing up to me on the sidewalk they was aksin’ all sorts of questions but I remember the pretty white lady say, “What is your name?”
I spit out the blood in my mouth and my head was starting to feel real heavy. I just told her in a half-whisper, “Ain’t no fun when the rabbit got the gun…”
Then everything just went black.
THE END