Aitah for cheating on my wife when I thought she cheated on me?
I'm M57 and my wife, let's call her Jane for privacy reasons is F45. Jane and I had been married for twelve years, within our first year of being married we had two beautiful boys, twins, Jake and Sam.
Jane and I met at an annual work party during Christmas time. She was the new hire who didn't have many friends or anyone to talk to. I started paying her more attention, by the end of the night we hit things off pretty well. We started dating a month or two after, casual dating nothing more. It started getting more serious as time went on, one thing led to another and I was down on one knee and she said yes.
Jane grew up on the farms with her dad and brothers so we decided it would be nice to have the ceremony in one of her old barns. We did it up nicely with lights and decorations. I felt like the luckiest man alive. Soon came Jake and Sam. As we weren't expecting twins it was definitely a shock, nonetheless we loved them both. I felt like such a proud father, taking them on strolls in the pram to walks in the park, soon enough I was taking them to soccer games and movie theatres.
After about six years after our boys were born, I noticed a shift in Jane's mood. She no longer liked getting into it when the boys were asleep. She was never home, which was odd to the fact she worked less hours than me. She was always at a yoga class or a friends tea party. All these excuses she had made up made me feel like something more was going on.
I tried ignoring it and focusing on work, as the last thing I'd want it to be was cheating and breaking our family up. I didn't want to believe she could do such a thing. On November 1st, she told me she'd be home early, it was our anniversary. She had a day out with her friends in the local garden centre. I started getting worried when it hit 6pm. Who can look at plants and drink coffee for 9 hours? Not Jane, she gets bored of activities an hour or less in. I assumed maybe she's picking up a nice bottle of wine or something after, but the selection isn't big in the town we live, surely it wouldn't take her long.
I left her some calls, messages even sat on the front porch waiting for hours. It wasn't until Jake came out saying he had a nightmare to when I went back inside. I ended up falling asleep with Jake as I read him a bedtime story. The next morning when I woke up, Jane was in our bed, her clothes scattered all over the room like she was trying to play the floor is lava with her cashmere jumper and denim trousers.
Confused, as anyone would be, I headed to her side and gently shook her away. I'm not the sort of man to start arguments, nor do I like them. I'm not a fan of conflict. I felt as if accusing her of cheating was the worst thing I could ever possibly do. Yet I went ahead and asked her to which she declined and yelled at me for even thinking it.
I felt horrible about myself, like I had just lost her with that question. After that I started relying on work to get me by, it was something to distract my thoughts. Jane became more distant, even if she was home, she'd either be on her phone or the laptop, both to which she changed the passwords on. I'd never be the one to snoop at her phone. The only reason we had each other's phone passwords was for emergency, and well the laptop was actually mine for work. It was my at home computer when covid happened. I don't use it as much now, just a couple games online when I'm bored, yet Jane took it over, changed the passwords and reset the whole thing.
It didn't really matter to me as I never used it, it just made my stomach drop. What if she was hiding something from me? I felt guilty asking myself that question every time she did something odd. Whether it was telling me to sleep on the sofa or to work longer hours. There was a change in her and it wasn't just me that noticed it, Jake and Sam did too. They were too young to understand why mommy didn't want to hang out with them anymore.
I decided to stop trying with Jane, to focus my work hours on work, get a baby sitter for the weekdays and on weekends I'd always take my boys out to fancy restaurants and fun things they'd enjoy. Jane didnt like that. She didn't like it when Sam said the two of them prefer me.
It started an argument between Jane and I, the first conversation we had in months. She told me it was my fault, that she knew I was trying to be their favourite to get back at me.
I didn't know what she meant, infact I was done, our marriage was over, but I needed to salvage it for the kids. My parents divorced when I was ten. It's a horrible experience for anyone of any age. My dad acted like it was my fault. He'd always send me off to mom's house then when I come back he'd act like I wasn't even there. Mom however, tried winning my love with money. Buying me the latest xbox games, consoles, a new phone. Whatever it was, she got it for me. I never asked, never asked her for anything, she'd just show up and shove it in my face as she stood at the door to dad's house with me before passover.
I didn't want my boys feeling upset, angry, thinking its their fault, I needed to stay with Jane till they were old enough to be able to manage their emotions.
Then came along another woman. It had been three years since I asked Jane if she was cheating. For privacy reasons, I'll change her name. F50, her name was Lucy. She was our new neighbour, moved in with her elderly mother. I met her first in the local library as I was picking up some books for myself. She was there signing in for a book card. I introduced myself, told her she's welcome to the block, a formal and nice welcoming. I seen her every Thursday at the library, she'd either be writing, reading or just looking at the bookshelves. Over time we started having some conversations. She knew I was married with kids. The longer this friendship went on, I opened up to her about Jane and I. Something I hadn't told anyone.
She was really supportive, was really there for me. It was comforting to say the less. As time went on, we started hooking up, going on dates and seeing each other on days that weren't only Thursdays.
Lucy was a kindhearted person, she even had her mother take care of my kids for free on weekdays. I felt bad when she said she'd do it free of charge, that she missed when her kids were young. We made a deal, I'd cook her my famous pasta bolognase and she'd mind my kids. Occasionally Lucy would bring Sam and Jake out when her mother was feeling too tired. She'd bring them to the zoo, the ice rink or even out for a day of shopping. I really started to fall in love with her, I don't know if I should have felt guilty about her, having a wife. But I didn't. I felt as if our marriage was over without the documents to show.
Things were going good till one day I was in a rush for work, Lucy had the keys to my house, only for emergency. I would never of taken her home.
I told her to just go inside, the kids lunches are already packed and to just drive them to school. She did what I said however one thing neither of us expected was Jane to be home. As my wife answered the door, I couldn't even imagine what Lucy felt. She said she was the new baby sitter. When I came home that night, I dropped in some pastries to Lucy and her mother then headed home. Jane sat at the kitchen table, a portion of bolognase infront of her, untouched, steaming hot.
She didn't speak for minutes, it felt like hours. I knew I had to tell her, tell her everything.
I began with knowing she cheated on me, how it made me feel, the kids feel. She watched, with zero emotion on her face. Her hand swinging her wine glass around before she'd take a sip.
She laughed, and laughed. She didn't stop. Infact as she stood up, she threw the boiling hot plate at me, to which I had dodged.
She didn't cheat, infact there was a reason she was distant. My wife was graped numerous times in three days by her coworker. My best friend, M52, John. John had too became distant, I guess I thought he was busy.
I fell back, kneeling on the floor as I heard the kids waking up upstairs. My wife stood still, tears in her eyes as she yelled, how I cheated on her when she was graped.
I felt miserable, there's no work in the dictionary that could muster up how I genuinely felt in that moment. Jane and I filed for divorce two months later. She didn't want the boys. I took them. She wanted far from me, from this house. She moved in with her dad back at the farm while Lucy and her mother moved in with me and the boys.
AITAH?

Hey there gentlemen! Name's Sky, and I want the level of passion of the relationship mentioned in the title. Before anyone says anything, yes I know it's an awful relationship as a relationship. Yes, I know that the Phantom is a psycho stalker. Yes I know Christine had at least some level of brainwashing to be worked out. Do I care? No, though I'm realizing now that I could've used Morticia and Gomez for the same effect.
As you may have guessed, I'm an avid horror enjoyer. My favourite movie ever is The Black Cauldron, followed rather closely by Tarot, Sinister, and Barbie's Fairytopia. No, I'm not joking, Fairytopia is one of my favourite films. My comfort TV series isn't necessarily horror, though. It's Dr. Who (Followed by tbh any sort of Scooby-Doo show). My favourite series is Grimm.
I'm an Autistic ADHD voice actress with Dissociative Identity Disorder, just to get that out of the way. If you're not interested in the possibility of being in a relationship with everyone in my skull (in some form, though there are other genders bashing round up here) or you probably having to be the one to text first, then we will not work.
I also DM (and play) Dungeons and Dragons. I enjoy a lot of other games too, to the point of planning a Redfall themed tattoo to go on the arm with the Wizard101 one, so please just ask if you have an idea for something to play together. Chances are, I probably have it and am willing to play it.
Hobbies of course vary from alter to alter (we call them shards because it's easier to envision it as a broken mirror for some people.... Plus it sounds cool.) but in theory there's a solid baseline of enjoyed things somewhere. Some kinda common ground.
One of the shards designs games as a hobby, and he also likes examining things that may be overlooked. That said, he's very comfortably uncomfy in his bubble so it may take time to get to know him. Beware, as I'll flirt with musical/play/film references, he will do the same... But Doctor Who themed or Supernatural themed. I have read some of the things he's typed, and I have cringed.
I'm rather trash at introductions, so I guess I'll just list off some hobbies below
Swimming, archery, going to theme parks, playing guitar, gaming, cosplaying, acting, listening to music, researching things/learning new things.... Going to haunted houses, looking at snakes, etc.
My favourite colour is the barely-tacky red/brownish colour that blood dries to when it's almost dry. I'm not too sure how to describe it, but it isn't crimson. It's not brown either, it's like an in between. Favourite holiday is Halloween, my favoured song right now is honestly the whole of Epic The Musical. If I had to choose one, I'd probably go with The Music of the Night from The Phantom of the Opera. If we get together on VRChat or watch it as a movie somehow, I will sing along. No buts. The quietest I'll be is humming during the ending of the titular song since I haven't hit that note in forever. If we go to the theatre, though, I won't make a peep except for claps (especially for the technical team because they need all the love for that show) at appropriate times. My favourite movie genre is, of course, horror.
My favourite food is hard to choose, and my favourite play isn't Phantom. It's Doctor Faustus by Christopher Marlowe. My favourite musical stage show is Phantom.
My ideal date would probably include the following, in no particular order. A stage show or movie, some time in some sort of interactive entertainment experience (think a theme park, haunted house, or interactive performance such as the Peaky Blinders interactive experience), and we'd likely squeeze in food somewhere along the way. Oh yeah, course you'd be there too. That was just a given so I thought about leaving it out.
I want someone who can match my energy, but isn't dead-set on a specific thing. Course, when all's said n done I'm a bit of a people pleaser so I'll bend over backwards to try to make things work. I live in North America, but my sleep schedule is very wonky.
If after all that info dumping you're lacking on conversation starters, there's a few ideas below 👇
Favourite playwright?
Favourite style of entertainment?
Favourite color?
What's your Hogwarts House? Your Camp Half-Blood cabin? (Slytherin. Apollo (not including the big 3 in the running) or Poseidon)
Would you rather spend a day inside your favourite video game or your favourite film? Why?
Favourite band?
And just to prove you've gotten this far, and aren't a bot, what's your favourite dinosaur? I'll start. I really like raptors and pterodons.

Thus, wounded, and less victorious than they might have preferred, but victorious nonetheless, the royal three returned to the Macedonian capital. The army returned to Philopolis in triumph, the trio at their head. Leonidas on a replacement for his slain mare, Cassandra astride a titanic black stallion which was exclusively used for parades, and Seramis in her full diluvian glory. Cassandra might have been disappointed that the battle hadn’t been as decisive as she preferred, but she wasn’t about to miss an opportunity for propaganda.
So the group returned to the cheers of their people, the cavalry shining in the summer sun, and the army marching in strict formation. Trumpets heralded their return. Banners flew from the corners of houses. The men sang bawdy songs, as is the tradition of soldiers. Not a spec of blood or rust nor dust was allowed, presenting the image of a spotless, unconquered army. It was all a magnificent production. It was all a lovely welcome home.
When Seramis had first seen Philopolis and Macedon, it had been a very different place. The realm had struck her as grey, very grey, and a place without much beauty. Then, under the rule of the wicked regent Tyndareus, it was a place of iron and blood, a totalitarian state dedicated primarily to a massive conscript army. The hills had been torn open by great pit mines for iron and copper. The forests had been cut down to fuel the fires of industry. The fields were endless, uniform masses of oats, grain, and hay, worked by uncounted slaves, or landless peasants just a bit better than slaves. Over it all, the ancient fortress of the Alexandrian dynasty had loomed as a great edifice; a leviathan of hewn stone and barred windows representing the absolute military power that held all of it in place.
Now, two years hence, it was more alike to how she had first found it than she would have preferred. But transforming a society was hardly a swift process, and the work done was already substantial. Once the place had been a land of iron and blood, and though industry remained, now the smell of olive oil, the sound of potters wheels, and the hawking of merchants filled the air. The monolithic collective farms had shattered into a patchwork quilt of small holdings. The men working them might still have brands, but they and the lands were their own.
Of course, there were still some great expanses of oats and wheat. Those were Cassandra’s lands. She’d been generous with the lands she’d confiscated from the nobility, and in turn with their wealth which now filled her treasury. But she hadn’t given up any of her own family’s territory, and had expanded them substantially. Something like a quarter of the land in the country was the Queen’s personal fief, and she managed it very carefully. The economies of scale she alone had access to provided much needed stability for staple food prices during the transition from a slave-based command economy to a citizen market economy. Beyond that, the lands also provided a substantial portion of government income.
Said income was further complimented by a wide-scale reform to the tax structure. Rather than outsourcing the work to tax farmers, or to any nobility, as that had been liquidated, taxes were collected from a variety of small, but inescapable requirements. The primary tax was simply the surplus tax, an in-kind tax taken from all production. Farmers gave a share of their produce, potters a certain number of pots for each produced, blacksmiths a certain number of finished goods, and so on and so forth. Only the merchants would return hard currency from the surplus tax, the rest a great cross-section of produced goods. These in turn went into great warehouses, which the government might release from to control prices, or sell abroad to bring in further profits. The majority of currency entering the coffers either came from selling such produce, Cassandra’s personal lands, or a variety of import and consumption taxes. No less than a tenth of the entire bureaucracy was funded by the consumption taxes on oil and salt.
Of course managing all this was a good lead more complicated, not least of which because Cassandra had liquidated the aristocracy. This required a rather extensive increase in the bureaucracy, which brought in quite the expense of its own. Overall revenue was vastly increased from the reign of Tyndareus, and indeed all former kings of Macedon. The problem was that expenses had increased in turn. Macdeon was a military stratocracy, and Cassandra was in the process of trying to reform that into a sort of enlightened bureaucratic autocracy. The amount spent on papyrus alone nearly rivaled the payments to the many new government servants, which were not cheap. Educated men and women, able to read, understand the laws, and understand mathematics were not common, and commanded higher prices.
Cassandra had responded both by working to increase the supply of educated citizens, and cut costs in other areas. Firstly, she enacted a massive increase in education, beginning with the orphans of Macedon’s many wars and educating them. Secondly, she had begun offering to pay for the education of the children of public servants as part of their compensation. This allowed her to cut down on salaries and ensure a future educated workforce. Third and finally, she had begun to subsidize educators throughout the kingdom, and begun work to gather and copy many books and tomes to further improve the kingdom’s educational outcomes. Unfortunately, this was work that would take years to bear fruit.
The second arm of this had been to cut costs in other areas, most notably the military. Under Tyndareus, the Macedonian army had grown to a terrifying, if bloated, leviathan. Between the use of conscription, and counting reserves, the former army could have raised nearly thirty thousand men under arms. Cassandra had slashed that, and abolished conscription for the regular army. After intensive cuts, purging Tyndareus’s loyalists, and serious reforms including the near complete reconstruction of the Macedonian Cavalry Corps, the Macedonian Army now numbered a mere nine thousand, with the ability to call upon a further ten thousand former soldiers, now spread out to create a variety of local militias.
Leonidas had taken charge of many of these reforms, bringing in military advisors from Marathon and Achaea. The young prince, in his role as Minister of War, set to work with vigor to refine the Macedonian army down to its purest and strongest form. His high standards might have earned him ire, if not for the personal virtue and discipline he showed to meet those standards. He demanded the best not only from himself and his soldiers, but even from his suppliers and quartermasters. Most of the Macedonian military exports were those arms and armor he found below standard, though many less discerning customers would gladly accept them.
More than simply focusing on the logistics, Leonidas sought to infuse in his army a certain esprit de corps and moral focus. He drew heavily on the legendary philosopher Aristotle, particularly regarding that philosopher’s education of Iskandar, the famed conqueror king who had defined Macedon for the past two centuries. Outside the direct military applications, the young prince kept an eye on the future, sponsoring the growth of sports leagues throughout the kingdom, particularly a great hunting association. The Hunter’s Guild was a particular passion project of his, and he worked tirelessly not only to cultivate skilled hunters to recruit for his scouts, but also to preserve what remained of Macedon’s wild lands, ensuring game populations remained stable, and dangerous animals were quickly eliminated. The prince’s skill at the hunt had even earned him the right to attend the games at Olympus, though it was his mastery of wrestling that had seen him returned crowned with the ultimate honor of the laurels.
Such participation with the rest of the Hellene world had been part of Sera’s work. The young dragonness had held no official position at first, as Cassandra worked to develop her talents. Seramis had loathed etiquette as taught as a set of rules to be followed, but Cassandra revealed their nature as tools and tricks as part of the great game of politics. Allowed to treat the illusion of statecraft as just that, Seramis thrived. Soon appointed as Minister of State, her talent for gathering information, forming schemes, and comprehending languages saw her unleashed as Macedon’s greatest diplomat. All the while, her true title was one that delighted her greatly. Master of Shadows, she wielded the diplomatic corps and her own personal stable of agents like a scythe, harvesting a hoard of secrets she feasted upon. They became as arrows in her quiver, aiding her as she stood alongside Cassandra to carefully guide the ship of state.
On a much less sinister note, Seramis had engaged in quite public work to revitalize Macedon’s stagnating cultural sphere. The dragoness was chiefly known not even as a diplomat, let alone a spymaster, but rather as a patron of the arts. She courted and drew playwrights, actors, bards, conductors, and composers from across the world, placing a great deal of personal effort into producing a cosmopolitan cultural sphere. Though diplomacy, culture, and her eternal scheming, she worked to put the sword of Iskandar in a flowered sheath, in hopes it would never need to be drawn.
The peak of her work in that regard was a mere week away, a grand festival of the arts such as had not been seen in Macedon before. It would be a great festival as if that of the Athenians, now long brought to ruin. For the first time since the wars of the Diadochi, Hellas would come together to celebrate the arts. Naturally, Macedon would be participating, represented by Sera’s own personal theater company: The Mount Ararat Company.
Seramis quickly moved through her remaining business for the day. She met with the Master of Investigations and also her deputy, who had been working to manage her department while she had departed on campaign. Pleasantries were exchanged, and reports given. There was little new, but there was confirmation that the Latins, a curious people from across the western sea, would come to attend the festival. This would have been of little concern, if not for how they were coming.
A long-standing problem of the western coast had been the pirates of Illyria. These seafaring brigands proved a routine nuisance for not only Hellene trade, but all throughout the seas. Achaea and Macedon had both extended offer to the king of Illyria to come and help remove the pirates, but had been rejected. However when the Latins offered, the king accepted. So, the Latins came in force, bringing with them a four mighty legions of men, and crushed the pirate havens by attacking from the land. The problem was, they didn’t leave. While three of the legions returned to Italia, the fourth remained to protect against the return of the pirates, and to protect their Illyrian allies from Achaean or Macedonian aggression.
This was already a provocative move, as the barbarian army now sat on Hellene soil, diplomatically shielded by the cowardly Illyrian king. However, now the Latins made a further move. They had informed the court at Macedon previously that they wished to send a delegation to observe the festival and improve relations. All this was well and good, and naturally they did request to send bodyguards to protect the delegates. This was agreed, but the unscrupulous Latins had interpreted the mention of bodyguards broadly, and deployed a third of the legion infantry as “bodyguards”. Seramis’s reports indicated that these were in fact the Triarii, the third and strongest line, composed of veterans. The remainder of the legion remained encamped alongside the Ilyrian-Macedonian border.
The presence of the legion was concerning, to say the least. It numbered some four thousand five hundred men, about the size of a Macedonian army. The Macedonians held a local advantage, as they maintained two armies. One was directed northwards, towards the barbarians, and the other towards the east, to ward off their Selucid rivals. So they outnumbered the legion present two to one. However, the problem arose with the Latin’s ability to deploy a further three legions, which would reverse that advantage. With aid from Marathon, the Hellenes could match the Latin’s numbers, and with Achaean aid, they would outnumber them. Unfortunately, the Latins had spent much of their recent war with the Phoenicians of Carthage demonstrating an ability to raise new forces frighteningly quickly. Sera’s analysis suggested that if they wished to, they might be able to triple the might of their armies to twelve legions. The sheer military mass of the Latins would be enough to equal all Hellas, but Hellas was still divided, and some, such as the Illyrians, preferred them as allies to their fellow Hellenes.
The simple arithmetic of war indicated that if the Latins wished to conquer Hellas, they probably could. The simple arithmetic of war neglected to account for the power of dragons. But, Sera had observed, it was rare to lose money betting on the arrogance and avarice of humans. The fortunate side of dealing with the Latins was that for all their military might, they had a peculiar custom. They were permitted by ancient law and religious principle from launching a war of aggression, and so only declared war when they or their allies were threatened. This iron law of ancient Roman kings aught to have kept their swords sheathed, but in practice it often meant that an ambitious man of that city would seek to provoke an attack or aggression, that they might have reason for war. This incident with the “bodyguards” was likely such an attempt at provocation by a glory hound.
So, the trio met, and considered how to deal with this. It was decided that they would monitor the Latins closely, and place forces in such a way that they could not be aggressive, but would certainly be ready. The Army of the North was still recuperating from their recent battle with the Scythians, and would remain on standby in the capital to respond to any moves from the Latins or Scythians. At the same time, the northern militias would be stood up, and reinforced by militias from the south. These southern reinforcements would travel along the roads that would place them directly between the two parts of the Roman Legion, ensuring that if hostilities began, the separated legion would be able to be dealt with in parts. Unfortunately, Leon was unable to deploy as many of his scouts to that region as he would prefer, and Sera’s own intelligence assets were likewise pointed northwards. Better to deal with the actively aggressive barbarians, and then the imminently aggressive ones.
So, it was with great care, and no small amount of tension, that the Latin delegates arrived, joined by some three hundred of their Triarii. This was the first that Sera had seen of the Latins, and her initial impressions were somewhat mixed. They moved with distinct discipline, and were in all senses quite well ordered. The Triarii were older, veteran soldiers, generally more in their thirties. As such, they were somewhat more moderate, and avoided the wicked behavior common to many young soldiers. However, this rendered them with an increased air of unmistakable danger. Be wary of old men, even relatively old ones, in professions where men die young, and particularly of a soldier without an obvious vice.
The leader of the Latin delegation introduced himself to the court with a somewhat imperious nature. It likely would have been more imperious had Seramis not taken on her true form. It is difficult, even for a roman, to remain arrogant when there is a fourteen-foot-tall (measured at the shoulder) dragoness looking down at you. He declared himself as Military Tribune Gaius Mummius, representing the Praetor Lucius Cornelius in command of the IV Legion. Though the head of the delegation, he was simply that by right of his military rank. The actual diplomacy was handled by diplomats, not soldiers, though by their attitudes, Seramis might have taken them for sergeants in fancy togas. However, one who did catch her interest was distinct among the delegation, an old man, and truly old, dressed as a seer. He remained close by the ear of Gaius, and the tribune heeded him. Sera watched him warily, for she smelled magic on him, an old magician, and that would be trouble.
Despite her concerns, the Latins did not cause trouble, not even their old magician. They established a small camp for themselves outside the walls of the city, and largely kept to themselves. They came into the city only in small groups based around some member of their number who spoke Greek. They paid with honest coin, and seemed intrigued by the preparations for the festival. They seemed unusually preoccupied with finding barbers, as they were each clean-shaven, in contrast to the bearded Hellenes. Leonidas found this utterly hilarious, as he had spent more time than he would ever admit trying to find ways of improving his own facial hair. Now that it had finally come in, he spent more time managing his admittedly impressive beard than he ever had dealing with his actual hair. Sera, lacking any hair whatsoever, found the human preoccupation with it utterly confusing.
Bearded or otherwise, Hellene, Latin, and miscellaneous others soon came to attend the great drama festival. The idea of cancelling was briefly considered, and summarily rejected. Continuing to have a great celebration in the face of Latin provocation and Scythian Assault showed not only the power of the kingdom, that its people could act without concern, but also its prestige through mastery of the arts. The fact that many of the participants in the festival were from elsewhere in Hellas was politely overlooked. After all, Macedon had gathered them, and thus got credit.
The festival went on for three days, and proved to be a generally joyous, if somewhat chaotic time. Even the dour Latins eventually became swept up in the atmosphere. While this wasn’t technically a Bacchanalian festival, mostly due to the fact that Bacchus was very dead, it certainly carried some of that legacy. Of course the highlight, at least for men who considered them cultured, was the great drama productions. All manner of productions were put on display, from great recreations of the Athenian classics, to new twists, foreign productions, historical plays, retellings of myths, and of course many a comedic tragedy and initially tragic comedy.
Seramis’s own company had three productions, set into place over three days. The first two were well known, and practiced. Sera’s company had begun expediting the revitalization of the cultural scene with regular performances. Some of these had been well-worn classics, but the Mount Ararat Company would bring none of these to this stage. Instead, they brought two original, but already tested plays, and one of excellent ambition.
The first was a Satire, in the style of The Clouds which Sera had dubbed Tartarus. This piece was set in the depths of the underworld, that darkest pit where wicked men and monsters alike were tormented. These tormented souls took on the role of the choir, being intensely irritated by the antics of the four main players. Those four were of course the three great Greek philosophers: Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle, and their own tormentor; Diogenes. The play largely consisted of the main three wandering through Tartarus, further tormenting the tormented souls with long winded and pedantic arguments about the torments they witnessed. All the while, Diogenes routinely appeared to torment them in turn. The play as a whole made light of philosophies, and generally teased out the problems with focusing overmuch on the world of the mind while actual suffering could be addressed.
This play was well received, for it was humorous and mocked philosophers, which few people cared for. The humor wavered between high and low brow, with both clever jokes sprinkled in amongst the arguments of the philosophers, and cruder humor delivered by the tormented souls and Diogenes. A certain degree of slapstick was involved as well, often involving a great paper-Mache boulder being rolled by Sisyphus.
The second of Sera’s plays was a somewhat grander production, though was likewise satirical. It turned the classic play Oedipus Rex somewhat on its head with The Choir’s Apologia. The original play was an archetypical tragedy, following the story of Oedipus, son of the King of Thebes. Due to a prophecy, his father cast him out to be slain, but he would live, and later unknowingly slay his father, and wed his mother. The play detailed how the gods smote the city with a plague as a result of this kinslaying and incest. Oedipus sought the answer to this, and in doing so discovered the terrible truth, and blinded himself for shame.
The Choir’s Apologia put a twist on this, as the Choir itself determines to get involved. This broke their usual role as mere background singers, and saw them take the stage to try and prevent the tragedy. The play played out as usual, but regularly, the mortal actors would freeze in place before a great event. The Choir would then step to center stage, and petition the gods for redress. First they asked Apollo, bidding him not deliver the ruinous prophecy, for without it nothing would come, but he rejected them. Next they implored Hermes to warn Oedipus against his folly, but Hermes declared he was helpless before Zeus. Finally, the Choir dared to approach Zeus himself, demanding that he cease to punish all Thebes for Oedipus’s mistake.
This proved a failure in the end, as Zeus rebuked them and struck the choir down one by one. The message was clear, that the gods were cruel and arbitrary, delivering unjust judgements. They did what they would, for they were strong, and the choir suffered what it must, for it was weak. At last only Oedipus remained, able now to see Zeus and his murder of the choir. Oedipus and Zeus contested one another in song, and while Zeus struck down the king, it was not before the hero doomed by prophecy delivered a defense and a prophecy of his own. Oedipus defended his record as king of Thebes, how he had overthrown a tyrant, protected his people, improved their lives, and sought their good even at terrible cost to himself. He, the one the gods judged, had been a better ruler than the gods. If indeed the gods would persist in their arbitrary wickedness, then one day this would be their doom, for the world would not abide such tyrants. Zeus struck him down, but went in dread because of the prophecy.
This production produced some degree of controversy. It always had, and such was the intent. It was well understood that the gods were dead, and Olympus was silent, but this play indicated such was not a bad thing. Given it was written by a dragoness, a natural enemy of the gods, the take was not unexpected. Beyond this, its use of another play as a framing device gave it a rather meta feel, and some found it pretentious. Others, by contrast, found the reframing of a classic play refreshing, and enjoyed the novelty of the choir acting as a major character.
The third play was a new production, and meant to be the one to blow the sandals off the audience. It was a bigger, grander, and of much more spectacular production values. All of this was in theory. In practice, it was put on at the end of three days of performances and partying, and became more of a farce than an epic. The Davidiad told the story of the legendary Hebrew king David, of both his rise to power and fall from grace. It was told in three acts, and all three had some manner of disaster.
The first act told of the heroic youth of David before he was king, and how he defeated the giant Goliath. Goliath himself was a complicated costume made by having three already tall men standing on one another’s shoulders. When struck by a sling, he was to topple over onto his army, which would catch the performers and prevent any harm. Unfortunately, due to an earlier scene involving David being anointed with oil, there was a slick patch on stage. Goliath’s lower third slipped, and the towering giant fell flat on his face and collapsed into himself in the middle of a monologue. This was considered absolutely hilarious by the audience, and Seramis, upon seeing this, physically shrank from embarrassment.
The second act saw the conflict between the good future king David and the wicked king Saul. Saul was meant to begin more coherent, but gradually jealousy and fear would twist him into wickedness. Unfortunately, Saul’s actor had been out late, and showed up to the production very hung over. This made Saul’s descent far more predictable and robbed the second act of much of its drama. Unfortunately, the actor in question attempted to remedy this by using a hangover cure involving undiluted wine. This made him less hungover, and more drunk, so Saul went from being scowling and sickly to very obviously drunk. This became a minor peril during a later scene where Saul threw his spear at David. Not only did Saul miss, as intended, but he proceeded to hurl the (thankfully fake) spear into the audience, where it proceeded to hit a man in the chest. He was unharmed, but believed he had been slain and fainted, causing a minor panic.
The third act was nearly canceled, but went ahead anyways. The cursed production continued to be cursed, as a major set piece exploded earlier. The third act was meant to show how the throne gradually corrupted David, and led him to murder a man to cover up an affair with his wife Bethsheba. This would climax with the death of a son produced from that affair, and the collapse of a great temple edifice David had been constructing. The play would end with David weeping, but repentant, and turning to begin rebuilding the ruined temple, representing his disgraced morality. Instead of this, the temple collapsed immediately the moment David and Bethsheba locked eyes, which somewhat gave the game away.
Sera did not bother to see the audience’s reaction when the curtain closed. She’d already left from sheer embarrassment. She was helping the troupe pack up, so the lot of them could scatter to cope with this catastrophe in their own way. Once the curtain closed and the actors departed the stage, she handed Saul his last payment, a polite, if curt, farewell, and departed. She avoided the rest of the festival, marinating in her disappointment at the bottom of a nearby lake.
Eventually, evening did come, and Sera slunk her way back into the city. She spoke briefly with her troupe, congratulating them on the work they did, and laboring to encourage their spirits. The production of the Davidiad had gone horribly wrong, but these were technical and production errors, not fundamental flaws. They would try again, after taking time to rest, recover, and focus on building back up to such a grand production with greater skill and experience. Their reach had, quite simply, exceeded their grasp, and ruin had come because of hubris. They would recover from this, and move forwards.
Much as she managed the speech, she felt like she was having to put on her own performance to manage that. Privately, the failure on such a massive stage hung over the young dragoness. She quietly made her way into the palace, and made her way to where Leon and Cassandra were. Unfortunately for her, the pair were currently in the process of discussing the festival. Glumly, she sat silently, nursing a large bowl of wine as Casandra and Leon deliberated a victor.
“The first step is that we can scratch off any troupes that simply re-enacted an existing play. Those were simply derivative, and giving a victory to that in our first festival sets an unfortunate precedent.” Cassandra remarked, working off a clay tablet listing the various performances. Lines went through about a third of the participants. “We can also do away with anything that tried to relate to Iskandar or my own dynasty, and especially that gods-awful recreation of our little scheme to destroy Tyndareus.”
“I personally found that one funny.” Sera piped up, remembering the comically inaccurate play. “Though they did manage quite the trick with their costume for me, I’ll need to get in touch with their costume department to see how the internals worked.”
“It was funny, mostly because it was inaccurate enough we could probably bring a suit for slander, libel, and slanderous libel against them.” Leon grumbled with arms folded. He had been made the butt of many a joke in that production, with the comedy of the valiant warrior being utterly surpassed by two women being a common refrain. “Beyond that, we don’t want to give the wrong impression about what exactly is acceptable to say about a queen.”
“The Corinthians have something of an irreverent streak, that much is for certain. Unfortunately we can only bring slander, libel, and slanderous libel and not treason, as they are presently foreigners.” Cassandra demurred. “Still, delivering sanctions on the Ember Island Company could be an effective way to get the message across to Corinth that a more peaceful Macedon is not a pushover.”
“With regard to the reproductions, what about The Choir’s Apologia?” Leon asked, throwing Sera a metaphorical bone. She ate literal bones as well, but if Leon threw her one he’d soon find out what it was like to skydive before the invention of a parachute.
“Disqualified as well. It deviates from the standard formula, but relies on you already understanding it. Really, if you didn’t know much about theatre to begin with, at lot of it would be lost on you. It ultimately came off as pretentious, and despite its inherently kind of ridiculous premise, was more depressing than anything. This sort of meta-commentary might work better for the sake of humor rather than trying for serious drama. Trying it here simply made the play exhausting and the sort of thing Tartarus really felt like it was mocking. That said, its pretention and grim character could give a good impression that the Macedonian theatre scene is serious and educated, but then I’d have to watch so many more like it. I don’t have enough absinthe to get through more than about one of those in a single festival.” Cassandra replied to that, and drew a second line through Apologia to emphasize her point. Seramis shrank into her cushions.
“Ah, so you enjoyed Tartarus then?” Leonidas asked in turn, trying to navigate the conversation to something less liable to torment the dragoness.
“Oh I most certainly did, but we can’t give it the win. As amusing as it is, it’s ultimately a very limited production. I like it, but giving it the victory would indicate a degree of “small scale” theatre in Macedon. I don’t want to give anyone else opportunity to degrade the work that’s been done here by suggesting that the Macedonian theatre lacks ambition.” Cassandra said with a sigh, and began crossing out any plays of similar scale.
“Which would be possessed by the Davidiad, but we all know how catastrophically wrong that went, so pray spare me whatever salt you were going to pour into that wound. I know that with all the bacchanalian delights available, you probably have managed to find someone who enjoys being tormented, but I am not that someone. So please, if you’re going to continue trying to murder me with words, use the ones that summon that lightning ball that nearly splattered me across the wall. It was a gentler execution.” Seramis grumbled, finally speaking up for herself.
Cassandra realized she’d gone to far, and put down the tablet. “I’m sorry Sera, I meant to tease, but not be cruel. I actually would agree that the Davidiad’s ambition was most impressive, and if not for some production hiccups, I think it might have had a chance at winning. I do tease, but I really do appreciate all the work you’ve put in to this, not just your company, but allowing this whole festival to go off. So, please forgive me if I’ve stepped too far from jest into mockery.”
“It’s fine, simply a very fresh disappointment. I’m afraid I missed most of the festival as I was busy running things or, well, pouting in a lake.” Seramis replied, waving away the problem with her tail. “So aside from everything you’ve disqualified, what do you think actually won?”
“I do have a personal preference.” Cass admitted, though she seemed a touch embarrassed by it. “The Court of Autumn.” The other two looked at her carefully with that. The Court of Autumn had been a much more romantic retelling of the story of Hades and Persephone, focused on the courtship of the pair, and the conflict that arose from a disapproving and overbearing Demeter. Neither of the pair had expected Cass to favor a romance, and their expressions showed it plainly. Cassandra merely shrugged. “We all desire what we cannot have, and it comes to a question of character whether we become envious of those lucky enough to have it, or delight sorrowfully that another is so blessed, even if they might not realize it.”
“I mean, I can’t deny that it was very well done. If I didn’t know better then I’d say that the two leads actually were a couple.” Leon replied with a nod. “It certainly doesn’t lack for ambition either, nor courage to speak the names of the Dread Queen and Lord With Many Guests so commonly.”
Cass smiled at that. “The fact that they do so is also part of why I like it. Persephone and Hades are dead, all the Olympians are. The reverence shown to corpses is illogical.”
Seramis processed this information, and considered her memory banks. “The company behind it, they’re one of the Theban companies, the Men of the Muses, correct?” She asked, and Cass checked, then nodded. “Ah, then yes, the two leads are actually husband and wife, they’ve got something of a specialty for romances as a result.”
“Write, or as the case may be, act, what you know.” Cassandra said with a shrug. “So we concur, The Court of Autumn is the victor?”
“I can’t argue against it.” Leon replied.
“Nor can I, but that’s more due to the aforementioned lack of context. One can make arguments without information, but I have a bit too much respect for the pair of you to engage in full sophistry.” Seramis admitted begrudgingly.
“Well, that absence may actually work to our advantage, returning from these pleasant distractions to the business of rule.” Cassandra said with a smile. “The Latins were particularly delighted with Tartarus, and actually wished to see the director. Said director was currently indisposed, but they have extended something of an open invitation. I think that accepting would provide quite the opportunity. It isn’t often one has a chance to walk right into the midst of a potentially hostile camp and see what they’re up to under guest-right.”
Seramis rose in interest at the idea, and cracked her neck. Cracking such a long neck was a process, creating a rippling crackling sound as vertebrae popped along the serpentine trunk. She grinned in anticipation. “I’ll melt myself a new dress.”

Xanathars "this is your life" section is somewhat of a favourite when it comes to swiftly fleshing out a NPC and connecting the dots in order to add them to the story. However, the tables are somewhat limiting.
At least after the 50th use-
I'm mainly refering to the life events table, a table that gives several events that add to a backstory, such as suffering a tradegy, getting a boon, making an enemy of an adventurer, having a supernatural experience, etc.
I just wander, maybe not right this instance and I'd have no qualms if someone more interested and with more time, either took pre-existing tables from here and other d100 websites and made the list much more expansive. 100 tradegies instead of 11, 100 supernatural events instead of 15, so on and so forth.
Just an idea I've been stewing on for a bit. Also, what do you all think of Xanathers this is your life section if you have the book? Any other quick npc generators you use?
I will start by placing the basic list.
Life events
1: you suffer a tragedy. Roll on tragedy table 2: you gained a bit of good fortune. Roll on boons table 3: you did something that made you noteworthy. Roll 1 d6. On a 1-3, roll for personal fame table. On a 4-6, roll on personal infamy table. The details of your deed can be discussed with dm (u/World_of_ideas)
Tragedies
1: someone important to you died. 2: a friendship ended bitterly, and the friend is now your enemy. The cause can be a misunderstanding or something either of you did. 3: you were imprisoned for a crime you did not commit 4: you lost all your possessions in a disaster. 5: a lover disappeared without a trace 6: you did something shameful, such as dabbling in black magic or being involved in a scandal. Your reputation is damaged badly. 7: a romantic partner died 8: a terrible plague in your home community caused crop failure and famine. You may have lost family members.
boon
1: you found, won or tamed a riding horse. 2: you attained a treasure map 3: you saved someone who owes you a life debt 4: a relatived died and left a small fortune.
Personal Fame
1: Captured / Defeated / Killed a infamous criminal (u/World_of_ideas) 2: Captured / Defeated / Killed a infamous monster (u/World_of_ideas) 3: Chosen - (Champion, chosen one) of a non-evil (angel, celestial, god, outsider, primordial, spirit) (u/World_of_ideas) 4: Crafted something that no one has been able to replicate (u/World_of_ideas) 5: Created a popular recipe (u/World_of_ideas) 6: Discovered a cure for a notable (curse, disease, poison) (u/World_of_ideas) 7: Discovered something notable (aliens, cause of “x”, cure for “x”, historically important, lost civilization, lost technology, magic, new dimension, new land, new race, new world, resource, scientific principle, etc)(u/World_of_ideas) 8: Dispelled a notable curse (u/World_of_ideas) 9: Escaped from some place that was thought to be inescapable (u/World_of_ideas) 10: Explored a (dangerous, mysterious) region (u/World_of_ideas) 11: Foiled an infamous crime (u/World_of_ideas) 12: Heroic deed (u/World_of_ideas) 13: Invented something of power (u/World_of_ideas) 14: Invented something that has become popular (u/World_of_ideas) 15: Lead a successful (campaign, raid) (u/World_of_ideas) 16: Master craftsman (u/World_of_ideas) 17: Master or grand master of your profession (u/World_of_ideas) 18: Popular Artist (artist, bard, performer, poet, singer, storyteller, troubadour, writer) (u/World_of_ideas) 19: Popular Entertainer (actor, comedian, dancer, musician, playwright, poet, singer, sports star, storyteller, etc)(u/World_of_ideas) 20: Related to someone famous. (Child of, married to, mother or father of, sibling of, student of) “x” (u/World_of_ideas) 21: Rescued someone (famous / important / notable) (u/World_of_ideas) 22: Saved a town from (a curse, disease, economic ruin, monsters, natural disaster, raiders, starvation)(u/World_of_ideas) 23: Solved a notable riddle or puzzle (u/World_of_ideas) 24: Started or lead a (coup, insurrection, mutiny, rebellion, revolt, etc) where the end result was better for the people than before (u/World_of_ideas) 25: Stopped a war (u/World_of_ideas) 26: Survived something that was thought to be unsurvivable (u/World_of_ideas) 27: Used diplomacy to solve a notable dispute (u/World_of_ideas) 28: Winner of a notable contest (u/World_of_ideas) 29: Wrote a book or series of books, that has become popular (u/World_of_ideas)
Personal Infamy
1: Assassinated notable targets (u/World_of_ideas) 2: Awakened an evil (AI, demon, devil, god, kaiju, lich, monster, monster horde, old one, outsider, primordial, spirit) from its slumber (u/World_of_ideas) 3: Being patient zero (u/World_of_ideas) 4: Betrayed their (clan, country, king, people) (u/World_of_ideas) 5: Broke out of a prison that was supposed to be inescapable (u/World_of_ideas) 6: Captured and ransomed someone notable (u/World_of_ideas) 7: Caused a magical disaster (u/World_of_ideas) 8: Caused some notable person great embarrassment (u/World_of_ideas) 9: Chosen - (Champion, chosen one) of an evil or forsaken (demon, devil, fallen, god, old one, outsider, primordial, spirit, etc) (u/World_of_ideas) 10: Collateral Damage - In your past exploits, you have cause a lot of collateral damage when (trying to help, on a mission or quest). Many would say you caused more damage than the original problem. (Ex: Lina Inverse from Slayers) (u/World_of_ideas) 11: Conquered a (kingdom, region) (u/World_of_ideas) 12: Created a monster that ravages the (land, realm, roads, sea) (u/World_of_ideas) 13: Created or unleashed a curse that has caused mass (devastation, misery, inconvenience) (u/World_of_ideas) 14: Created or unleashed a curse that has yet to be broken (u/World_of_ideas) 15: Created or unleashed a spell of mass destruction (u/World_of_ideas) 16: Defeated an army (u/World_of_ideas) 17: Defeated a notable (mage, warrior) (u/World_of_ideas) 18: Defeated every (adventurer, assassin, hero, law enforcer, mercenary, vigilante) that has come after them (u/World_of_ideas) 19: Destroyed a famous structure (u/World_of_ideas) 20: Destroyed a major resource (u/World_of_ideas) 21: Exterminated or nearly exterminated an entire people (u/World_of_ideas) 22: Framed for a crime they didn’t commit. People still believe that they are guilty (u/World_of_ideas) 23: Freed an evil (alien, demon, devil, god, kaiju, lich, monster horde, old one, outsider, primordial, spirit) from its imprisonment (u/World_of_ideas) 24: Invented something that would later have disastrous consequences (u/World_of_ideas) 25: Inventing the (automatons, golems, robots), that would later rise up and (conquer, enslave, exterminate) everyone (u/World_of_ideas) 26: Killed many people (u/World_of_ideas) 27: Killed someone notable (u/World_of_ideas) 28: Outed or labeled as a con-artist or scam artist (u/World_of_ideas) 29: Pulled off an infamous crime (u/World_of_ideas) 30: Related to an infamous group (bandits, barbarians, cannibals, cult, dark lords army, pirates, raiders, savages, thieves) (u/World_of_ideas) 31: Related to someone infamous. (Child of, married to, mother or father of, sibling of, student of) “x” (u/World_of_ideas) 32: Returned from the dead to continue doing evil deeds (u/World_of_ideas) 33: Started or lead a (coup, insurrection, mutiny, rebellion, revolt, etc) where the end result was worse than before (u/World_of_ideas) 34: Started an evil cult / Became (high priest, leader) of an evil cult (u/World_of_ideas) 35: Started a war (u/World_of_ideas) 36: Stole from many people (u/World_of_ideas) 37: Stole from a notable (clan, guild, person, group)(u/World_of_ideas)

Archana stepped off from the bus, pulling the shawl even more tightly against herself, taking care to wrap the woollen garment around her ears to protect against the bustling wind. Even with her full saree, socks, a cardigan and the shawl, she had been shivering in the rickety bus, with the broken glasses and wooden window shutters letting more of the cold air in than keeping it out.
Kunidanga was not the most crowded village in the district to begin with, and now at the end of December, with the temperatures hovering in the single digits, the roads wore a deserted look in the fading light of the dusk. Situated on the banks of the Torsa river in North Bengal, it was a tiny little hamlet which was barely a speck on the map. Archana was the only one who got off the bus, which left immediately for the final stop at Dinhata - nearly ten miles due south near the border with Bangladesh.
The bus stop, with its tin roof having long lost its shine, the mandatory stray dog lying in a corner in a ball of old newspapers, the walls completely covered in graffiti and posters of everything from the latest theatrical releases in the one movie theatre of the district in CoochBehar, the latest political agenda for the upcoming elections, ones extolling the virtue of the famous palmist Sri Abhaynanda while others that extolled the brilliance of D K Lodh - the infamous ‘sex doctor’.
Even with the musky odour of too many sweat stained bodies, months of public urination and defecation which hadn’t been washed away since the last rains, Archana sat down on the stone bench - just to balance herself for a moment.
She slowly patted her belly, calming the little one inside.
It was just the first trimester, actually the very beginning of it. Today was her first visit to the doctor in the district hospital. Archana had been experiencing the tell-tale symptoms of pregnancy for the past few days and Nakul was absolutely, joyously certain, that they were going to be parents! They had gone to the doctor together in the first bus from Kunidanga, starting at the break of dawn. Nakul had fidgeted the whole way there, nervous excitement bubbling through at every second while Archana simply tried to control her nausea - made worse by the rolling motion of the rickety old bus on the untarred roads. Waiting for the first consultation with the doctor, going for the blood tests, then another long wait for the reports and then the final confirmation from the doctor had taken them the whole day.
A quick meal at the hospital canteen, they had to rush to catch the last bus departing for Kunidanga. Nakul had gotten down from the bus at the last stop, he needed to visit the government depot there to collect some documents for his job as Kunidanga’s public works superintendent.
Their small government issued bungalow was not too far from the bus stop and Archana was confident that it was a distance she could cover well enough on her own - having taken the same short route countless times in the past. She stood up, clutching her small purse with some spare change and the regulation IDs, a bit tired, but with the additional spring in the step which happiness sometimes brings you!
Archana had only gone a few steps when she stopped, her senses overwhelmed by the unique smell of burning incense, fresh flowers and freshly cut fruit and milk - that typical combination which filled the air around all hindu temples - a smell so common and deeply ingrained among the god fearing Bengalis.
A few more steps along the dusty corporation road, and the source of the smell became clear to Archana. A sadhu - a kapalika to be more precise from the way he was dressed - had set up a small tenement on the empty plot of land just off the road, hardly a hundred feet from the bus stand.
A large man, well toned but not really muscular, the skin tanned with constant exposure to the elements, a thick beard and wrapped in the regulation red dhoti and uttariya sat in prayer.
It was a deep plot of land, opening up into the forested shrubbery at the back, butted on one side by the road and the bus stand, the other end a good two-three hundred feet away - completely empty except for a few shrubs and bushes, till Kanai’s small stationary shop.
In the middle of this huge plot of land, there stood an old Ashwathama tree, perennial, huge, imposing! The sadhu had created a small clearing at the base of this tree, burning away the shrub and the grass, the soil blackened and charred by the fire. He had planted his ornamental trident - the trishul - on the ground, the tips reddened with what seemed by red chandan powder. A small cloth tote bag hung from one of the low hanging branches - evidently containing all his worldly possessions.
The sadhu sat with his back to the tree, his eyes closed in prayer. Even in the dim light of the dusk, he seemed to have extremely sharp features, even though his face was gaunt and he had the emancipated look of someone who seldom has a proper meal. However, there was a sense of strength in him, an unexplainable aura of dark power, which however inspired more fear than fealty.
The normally god-fearing Archana instinctively folded her hands, palms touching, with that well known gesture of respect - in this case - somehow tinged with fear.
She stood rooted to the spot, trying to decide in her mind whether to approach this godman or not. On one hand, with the new pregnancy, she instinctively wanted the blessings and comfort from divine sources - and this one seemed to have quite literally fallen on her lap; on the other hand, there was a small tug of fear, a deep unnatural cold grasp of terror from deep within her which warned her to turn away from this man - and never catch his attention - ever.
Archana was brought out of her indecision by a sudden deepthroated fierce growling. A brown stray - so common on the streets of India, had entered the open land from the bush in the back. Perhaps this is where it slept during the night, finding a comfortable resting spot amidst the shrubbery and hedges. Having found an intruder who had taken over what the dog must have considered to be its own territory, he had reacted the only way he knew how - baring its canines and letting out a low fiery growl to warn the human away.
Archana was shocked by what happened next. She was about to shout out a warning to the meditating godman, when the man opened his eyes and with a cruel and brutal swiftness picked up his trishul from where he had fixed it to the ground and threw it at the crouching canine nearly fifty feet away. It happened so quickly that the poor creature barely had a moment to react, its growl dying away as the trident easily found its mark - cracking his skull open and breaking its jaw. The sadhu approached the fatally injured animal, picking up his formidable weapon once again, ostensibly to finish the job.
Archana didn’t wait around to witness the horrific aftermath. Shocked to her very core by the swift brutality and instinctive boorish behaviour of the sadhu, she gave credence to the tightly coiled fear in her stomach and moved as quickly as she could, past Kanai’s small stationary shop and beyond the bend in the road which lead to the barb wire compound of the government superintendent - Nakul’s official workspace as well as the small living quarters in the back.
She reached the sanctuary of her house, securely fastening the door behind her, breathless not only due to the sudden enforced exercise, but more so because of the sudden brutality which she had just witnessed.
Suddenly exhausted and drained, Archana went into the tiny bedroom, most of the space taken up by the large king-size wooden bed. A wedding gift from her grandparents, the huge bed covered almost three quarters of the room, leaving just enough space to fit in the old fashioned steel almirah and a mirror fixed on a hook on the wall to serve as a makeshift dresser.
Archana lay down on the bed, nauseated and deeply troubled by the sudden violence she had witnessed. She could still hear the crunching noise when the heavy iron trident hit the leaping canine, its yelp of pain. She grabbed the thick woollen blanket from the top of the almirah, wrapped it around herself, and curled up on the bed. Suddenly wracked by deep sobs, Archana wept. Wept in sympathy for the poor stray dog which was just doing what stray canines are supposed to do. Wept perhaps due to the sudden change in hormones in her body. Wept due to exhaustion and all the changes happening and about to happen. But mostly Archana wept in fear. Fear of the Sadhu who had suddenly appeared at the edge of the village, perhaps promising piety and salvation, but also promising a deep, dark violence.
X
Life moved at a breakneck pace for Archana and Nakul. Busy with Nakul’s work as the government administrator of public works, Archana’s work at the nearby primary school as a clerical staff and of course, getting ready to welcome the new addition to their family. Soon, the horrifying encounter with the Sadhu was an almost forgotten memory in Archana’s mind.
The first time they had to go back to the district hospital for a check up, Archana was worried. She hadn’t shared the incident of her first meeting with the Kapalik with Nakul. She didn’t see the point of unnecessarily worrying him and on top of that she wanted to push the memory of that incident as far away from her mind as she could.
However when they walked down the road to the bus stop early in the morning to visit the hospital, Archana was relieved to see that the godmans encampment was empty. The small camp had grown, it had a look of permanence about it now. A makeshift wooden fence created a border around the clearing around the tree. A small but sturdy wooden shed with a thatched roof had been built, a place for the worshipper to shelter in during the cold nights of the north. The large tree at the centre of it all bore various vermillion marks of sindur and sandalwood - the common symbols of hindu worship. However the man himself was nowhere to be seen.
By some strange twist of fate, Archana never ran into the man on her many visits to the clinic, passing by his ever expanding house of worship. There were obvious signs of his presence, and Nakul mentioned having seen him nearly every day, but luckily through some mystical working, Archana never had to face the strange sadhu who had taken up residence in their village.
She heard about him quite often. The young girl who came in twice a day to help with the household chores, the old bearded vegetable seller who came tooting on his van each morning, her few friends and the infrequent neighbour who dropped by, all had news about Kripali Baba.
He was known to be extremely pious, a follower of the goddess Kaali, he was known to keep the most difficult penances for himself as he tried to get closer to his venerated deity.
He was powerful too, quite capable of curing even the most incurable diseases, helping treat cancerous growth in an old coolie, treating the deadly lung infection in another. He was also known to be particularly partial to helping mothers - whom he considered to be an embodiment of his revered deity - Maa Kaali.
He was known to sit on long fasts right before every new moon, on which night he would disappear from his makeshift ashram and be away for days at a time.
Archana listened to all these tales with only half a mind, as she was completely occupied with the process of becoming a mother.
With every passing week, the small foetus growing inside of her grew more into a human and neither Archana nor Nakul could wait to get their newborn out in the world. They spent long hours planning for the baby’s name - Rabi if it was a boy and Nisha for a girl.
Their little island of happiness got a new inhabitant soon enough, when a handsome little boy, healthy and hale, was born to them at the turn of autumn. Rabi had arrived.
A precocious child, he was truly the Sun of his parents’ lives - the angel around whom Archana and Nakul spent doting around forever. Born during the auspicious Durga Puja, Rabi got the first glimpse of the majestic goddess Durga when he was barely a day old, the ecstatic parents taking him to the Durga Temple in the village to get him blessed and anointed.
The first few days of the young Rabi’s life were filled with joy, with the joyous grandparents, various aunts and uncles all coming to visit the newborn and celebrating the auspicious blessings of Maa Durga quickly followed by the Bengali Laxmi Puja - the celebration of the goddess of wealth and good fortune!
However, after a few days, the relatives all left, leaving the newborn and the new parents to their own schedule. Nakul had to rejoin his office, having used up his vacation days, and right the next week, was asked to go to the district office for some new instructions. Even though Kaali Puja was the next day, Nakul had to make the early morning journey leaving the sleeping Rabi and anxious Archana behind.
Promising her that he would come back right after the urgent meeting called by the new superintendent, Nakul left for the bus stop. Even though winter was still a few months away, the days were shorter and the morning Sun wasn’t fully up, the road lit by the reddish glow of dawn filtering through the mist which was still slowly receding.
As he passed by the ever expanding adobe of Kripali Baba, as he had done a hundred times over the past year, he saw the sadhu sitting in the traditional lotus pose - deep in meditation.
Nakul brought his hands together clasping them briefly against his forehead in the traditional show of respect, before hurrying on his way to catch the bus from Dinhata.
Archana and Rabi had a pleasant morning, the mother son duo enjoying the sunshine in the small garden which they had just outside their cottage. Rabi lay on his back on the small plastic crib - a gift from an indulgent uncle, while Archana sat on a blanket next to him, singing him lullabies, laughing at the various expressions the newborn unwittingly made.
After giving him a massage with the baby oil, Archana gave him a quick bath in lukewarm water before feeding him and putting him down for a nap in their bedroom. She sat for a moment staring at her sleeping son, her heart full of joy and satisfaction.
However she had to get moving soon, the time the baby slept being the only window when she could get any of the household chores done. Even though the girl who helped out with the household chores took care of the more manual work, Archana still had to cook for herself and Nakul. She also washed all of baby Rabi’s clothes and knickknacks on her own, unable to trust anyone else with her baby’s things.
Finishing all the household chores took a while - Archana always had an ear cocked for the slightest stirring sound. Rabi was a light sleeper and would cry his eyes out if he woke up and didn’t find his mother next to him.
Finally done with all the chores, taking a quick min long bath, and scarfing down her lunch, Archana went to bed, lying down exhausted next to her baby.
Rain in the autumn months in Kunidanga isn’t unheard of, but it isn’t a common occurrence either. Thundershowers are definitely a more uncommon sight.
Archana woke up disoriented and scared at the clap of thunder which had crashed somewhere close by.
She hadn’t realised when she had dozed off, tired from the constant crushing routine which she had as a new mother. Now, awake, she was scared at the dark cloudy sky outside, the gusting wind, the clapping thunder.
She suddenly turned - where was Rabi? The small infant was nowhere on the bed! Archana let out a wail of despair, probably her precious baby had rolled over and fallen from the bed. But then why was he silent? Why was he not crying? Was he hurt?
She scrambled off the bed, searching for Rabi, but he wasn’t there.
He was hardly old enough to turn on his belly, so it wasn’t likely that he had crawled out of the room.
Desperately, with an anguished cry, Archana searched all around the tiny house, darkened by the storm approaching, with no power. The only source of light was the now near constant flashes of lightning.
The house was empty.
There was no Rabi.
Now completely panic stricken, Archana ran outside, ignoring the large drops of icy rain drenching her, the uneven unpaved road striking her bare feet.
The road was empty, no one had ventured out in this weather. The wind and the rain made it really hard to see anything.
Not knowing which way to go Archana ran towards the bus stop, for no good reason other than knowing that’s the direction Nakul would come back from.
She passed by Kripali Baba but he was nowhere to be seen. The rain was pouring down now and there were small puddles forming on the sodden ground around the thatched hut which Kripal Baba had built for himself.
Somehow drawn in by some irresistible fear and a deep sense of foreboding, Archana turned off the road and into the venerated plot, taking trepidation filled steps towards the drenched hut. The makeshift abode didn’t have a door, just a heavy rug hung from a string like a curtain.
Archana flung the curtain aside and stepped inside - it was empty. No sign of Kripali Baba. No sign of Rabi.
There was a rolled up mattress on one corner of the tiny space, a few change of clothes on a wooden pallet, acting as a cupboard, and a few odds and ends lying here and there.
Archana didn’t know what she was expecting but she ran back out, somehow relieved to have not found her son there in the sadhu’s hut but also more scared wondering where he might be.
Much later that evening Nakul came back to find a comatose Archana wailing while a few neighbouring women tried to console her. Shocked and desolate, Nakul rushed into the house, convinced that their little boy was hiding somewhere. He turned the entire cottage upside down but alas there was no sign of the missing child.
Minutes stretched to hours, hours into days. The hapless parents remained comatose, completely clueless about what might have happened to their child. Neighbours, relatives, well wishers all had some sort of advice or the other, but none which did anything to alleviate the pain and suffering the distraught couple was going through.
Even though Nakul was fraught with an unbearable sense of loss, Archana was comatose wracked by an overwhelming sense of guilt which sat like a suffocating weight on her chest. She had been castigating herself for falling asleep and not even realising that her baby wasn’t next to her anymore.
When she heard someone saying to go to Kaali temple near Salmara, the last village on the banks of the Torsa river before it entered Bangladesh, she made up her mind to go. She had heard that the deity in that temple was particularly powerful and particularly keen to the plight of mothers - apparently the temple had been built and consecrated by a mother in memory of her child who had drowned in the river many years ago.
Nakul didn’t object. Even though he had given up hope and accepted it in his mind that their Rabi was lost, he didn’t want to dissuade Archana. They started off that very afternoon, taking a rickety old van from a kind neighbour, taking the long winding muddy roads along the bank of the river.
The Kaali Temple was old and bore a deserted look. It didn’t live up to its reputation of hosting a powerful deity who never let mothers return empty handed. There was no rush of devotees, no sound of clanging bells, no smell of incense or cut fruits - all the common sensitivities which one found afflicted near a temple.
Archana and Nakul hadn’t given any thought of bringing any offerings, they did not come here for any elaborate ritual, just to pray to a powerful deity to help them find their child.
As they walked towards the temple, they were surprised to see a lone figure sitting on the entrance steps, smoking a beedi.
Kripali Baba seemed to be equally surprised to see the couple, though he didn’t really seem to acknowledge their presence. If he had a flicker of recognition for them, he hid it well; neither did he raise an eyebrow at the couple’s dishevelled, unkempt appearance.
It was getting dark, seemingly the beginnings of another storm. Nakul hurried Archana inside the temple, they had a long way to go back.
Archana sat in front of the deity, elevated on a black stone. The deity was different from the others of the same goddess which she had ever seen. It seemed to be carved out of the same black rock as the base on which sat, the features carved out of stone. Even though the masonry was excellent, the features of the goddess had harsh edges - harsher than normal perhaps. What was most striking was her eyes. They seemed to be glowing, a strange lifelike quality quite astonishing to see in a stone carved idol.
Archana poured her heart out, dry eyed as there were no more tears left in her, she prayed to the goddess as only a mother can. She promised all that she had and all that she hadn’t, promised her own life and an eternal servitude to the goddess to have her child back.
All she wanted was for her Rabi to be back. Back to his mother’s embrace - where he belonged.
The stone deity had no answer. There was no sign, no crash of thunder as a prompt from the almighty that her deepest entreaties were heard.
Dejected, desolate Archana couldn’t control herself as she felt that the last vestiges of hope which she was nurturing in her heart were now broken. Her Rabi was not going to come back to her.
Nakul held Archana up, tears of a deep inconsolable grief flowing down his own face.
They stepped back out of the temple to dark skies. The wind had picked up and the heavy rain laden cumulonimbus clouds were racing in from the horizon shading the scenery with a dark hue.
Nakul suddenly shrank back, pulling Archana back as well. Kripali Baba lay on the ground, face up, eyes open, not breathing.
Quite dead.
There was a gaping wound in his stomach, a bloody, raw puncture.
Inside out.
As if something inside his stomach had tried to crawl out. Crawl out in a hurry. As if, that something, was being summoned. Summoned by a mother.

Archana stepped off from the bus, pulling the shawl even more tightly against herself, taking care to wrap the woollen garment around her ears to protect against the bustling wind. Even with her full saree, socks, a cardigan and the shawl, she had been shivering in the rickety bus, with the broken glasses and wooden window shutters letting more of the cold air in than keeping it out.
Kunidanga was not the most crowded village in the district to begin with, and now at the end of December, with the temperatures hovering in the single digits, the roads wore a deserted look in the fading light of the dusk. Situated on the banks of the Torsa river in North Bengal, it was a tiny little hamlet which was barely a speck on the map. Archana was the only one who got off the bus, which left immediately for the final stop at Dinhata - nearly ten miles due south near the border with Bangladesh.
The bus stop, with its tin roof having long lost its shine, the mandatory stray dog lying in a corner in a ball of old newspapers, the walls completely covered in graffiti and posters of everything from the latest theatrical releases in the one movie theatre of the district in CoochBehar, the latest political agenda for the upcoming elections, ones extolling the virtue of the famous palmist Sri Abhaynanda while others that extolled the brilliance of D K Lodh - the infamous ‘sex doctor’.
Even with the musky odour of too many sweat stained bodies, months of public urination and defecation which hadn’t been washed away since the last rains, Archana sat down on the stone bench - just to balance herself for a moment.
She slowly patted her belly, calming the little one inside.
It was just the first trimester, actually the very beginning of it. Today was her first visit to the doctor in the district hospital. Archana had been experiencing the tell-tale symptoms of pregnancy for the past few days and Nakul was absolutely, joyously certain, that they were going to be parents! They had gone to the doctor together in the first bus from Kunidanga, starting at the break of dawn. Nakul had fidgeted the whole way there, nervous excitement bubbling through at every second while Archana simply tried to control her nausea - made worse by the rolling motion of the rickety old bus on the untarred roads. Waiting for the first consultation with the doctor, going for the blood tests, then another long wait for the reports and then the final confirmation from the doctor had taken them the whole day.
A quick meal at the hospital canteen, they had to rush to catch the last bus departing for Kunidanga. Nakul had gotten down from the bus at the last stop, he needed to visit the government depot there to collect some documents for his job as Kunidanga’s public works superintendent.
Their small government issued bungalow was not too far from the bus stop and Archana was confident that it was a distance she could cover well enough on her own - having taken the same short route countless times in the past. She stood up, clutching her small purse with some spare change and the regulation IDs, a bit tired, but with the additional spring in the step which happiness sometimes brings you!
Archana had only gone a few steps when she stopped, her senses overwhelmed by the unique smell of burning incense, fresh flowers and freshly cut fruit and milk - that typical combination which filled the air around all hindu temples - a smell so common and deeply ingrained among the god fearing Bengalis.
A few more steps along the dusty corporation road, and the source of the smell became clear to Archana. A sadhu - a kapalika to be more precise from the way he was dressed - had set up a small tenement on the empty plot of land just off the road, hardly a hundred feet from the bus stand.
A large man, well toned but not really muscular, the skin tanned with constant exposure to the elements, a thick beard and wrapped in the regulation red dhoti and uttariya sat in prayer.
It was a deep plot of land, opening up into the forested shrubbery at the back, butted on one side by the road and the bus stand, the other end a good two-three hundred feet away - completely empty except for a few shrubs and bushes, till Kanai’s small stationary shop.
In the middle of this huge plot of land, there stood an old Ashwathama tree, perennial, huge, imposing! The sadhu had created a small clearing at the base of this tree, burning away the shrub and the grass, the soil blackened and charred by the fire. He had planted his ornamental trident - the trishul - on the ground, the tips reddened with what seemed by red chandan powder. A small cloth tote bag hung from one of the low hanging branches - evidently containing all his worldly possessions.
The sadhu sat with his back to the tree, his eyes closed in prayer. Even in the dim light of the dusk, he seemed to have extremely sharp features, even though his face was gaunt and he had the emancipated look of someone who seldom has a proper meal. However, there was a sense of strength in him, an unexplainable aura of dark power, which however inspired more fear than fealty.
The normally god-fearing Archana instinctively folded her hands, palms touching, with that well known gesture of respect - in this case - somehow tinged with fear.
She stood rooted to the spot, trying to decide in her mind whether to approach this godman or not. On one hand, with the new pregnancy, she instinctively wanted the blessings and comfort from divine sources - and this one seemed to have quite literally fallen on her lap; on the other hand, there was a small tug of fear, a deep unnatural cold grasp of terror from deep within her which warned her to turn away from this man - and never catch his attention - ever.
Archana was brought out of her indecision by a sudden deepthroated fierce growling. A brown stray - so common on the streets of India, had entered the open land from the bush in the back. Perhaps this is where it slept during the night, finding a comfortable resting spot amidst the shrubbery and hedges. Having found an intruder who had taken over what the dog must have considered to be its own territory, he had reacted the only way he knew how - baring its canines and letting out a low fiery growl to warn the human away.
Archana was shocked by what happened next. She was about to shout out a warning to the meditating godman, when the man opened his eyes and with a cruel and brutal swiftness picked up his trishul from where he had fixed it to the ground and threw it at the crouching canine nearly fifty feet away. It happened so quickly that the poor creature barely had a moment to react, its growl dying away as the trident easily found its mark - cracking his skull open and breaking its jaw. The sadhu approached the fatally injured animal, picking up his formidable weapon once again, ostensibly to finish the job.
Archana didn’t wait around to witness the horrific aftermath. Shocked to her very core by the swift brutality and instinctive boorish behaviour of the sadhu, she gave credence to the tightly coiled fear in her stomach and moved as quickly as she could, past Kanai’s small stationary shop and beyond the bend in the road which lead to the barb wire compound of the government superintendent - Nakul’s official workspace as well as the small living quarters in the back.
She reached the sanctuary of her house, securely fastening the door behind her, breathless not only due to the sudden enforced exercise, but more so because of the sudden brutality which she had just witnessed.
Suddenly exhausted and drained, Archana went into the tiny bedroom, most of the space taken up by the large king-size wooden bed. A wedding gift from her grandparents, the huge bed covered almost three quarters of the room, leaving just enough space to fit in the old fashioned steel almirah and a mirror fixed on a hook on the wall to serve as a makeshift dresser.
Archana lay down on the bed, nauseated and deeply troubled by the sudden violence she had witnessed. She could still hear the crunching noise when the heavy iron trident hit the leaping canine, its yelp of pain. She grabbed the thick woollen blanket from the top of the almirah, wrapped it around herself, and curled up on the bed. Suddenly wracked by deep sobs, Archana wept. Wept in sympathy for the poor stray dog which was just doing what stray canines are supposed to do. Wept perhaps due to the sudden change in hormones in her body. Wept due to exhaustion and all the changes happening and about to happen. But mostly Archana wept in fear. Fear of the Sadhu who had suddenly appeared at the edge of the village, perhaps promising piety and salvation, but also promising a deep, dark violence.
X
Life moved at a breakneck pace for Archana and Nakul. Busy with Nakul’s work as the government administrator of public works, Archana’s work at the nearby primary school as a clerical staff and of course, getting ready to welcome the new addition to their family. Soon, the horrifying encounter with the Sadhu was an almost forgotten memory in Archana’s mind.
The first time they had to go back to the district hospital for a check up, Archana was worried. She hadn’t shared the incident of her first meeting with the Kapalik with Nakul. She didn’t see the point of unnecessarily worrying him and on top of that she wanted to push the memory of that incident as far away from her mind as she could.
However when they walked down the road to the bus stop early in the morning to visit the hospital, Archana was relieved to see that the godmans encampment was empty. The small camp had grown, it had a look of permanence about it now. A makeshift wooden fence created a border around the clearing around the tree. A small but sturdy wooden shed with a thatched roof had been built, a place for the worshipper to shelter in during the cold nights of the north. The large tree at the centre of it all bore various vermillion marks of sindur and sandalwood - the common symbols of hindu worship. However the man himself was nowhere to be seen.
By some strange twist of fate, Archana never ran into the man on her many visits to the clinic, passing by his ever expanding house of worship. There were obvious signs of his presence, and Nakul mentioned having seen him nearly every day, but luckily through some mystical working, Archana never had to face the strange sadhu who had taken up residence in their village.
She heard about him quite often. The young girl who came in twice a day to help with the household chores, the old bearded vegetable seller who came tooting on his van each morning, her few friends and the infrequent neighbour who dropped by, all had news about Kripali Baba.
He was known to be extremely pious, a follower of the goddess Kaali, he was known to keep the most difficult penances for himself as he tried to get closer to his venerated deity.
He was powerful too, quite capable of curing even the most incurable diseases, helping treat cancerous growth in an old coolie, treating the deadly lung infection in another. He was also known to be particularly partial to helping mothers - whom he considered to be an embodiment of his revered deity - Maa Kaali.
He was known to sit on long fasts right before every new moon, on which night he would disappear from his makeshift ashram and be away for days at a time.
Archana listened to all these tales with only half a mind, as she was completely occupied with the process of becoming a mother.
With every passing week, the small foetus growing inside of her grew more into a human and neither Archana nor Nakul could wait to get their newborn out in the world. They spent long hours planning for the baby’s name - Rabi if it was a boy and Nisha for a girl.
Their little island of happiness got a new inhabitant soon enough, when a handsome little boy, healthy and hale, was born to them at the turn of autumn. Rabi had arrived.
A precocious child, he was truly the Sun of his parents’ lives - the angel around whom Archana and Nakul spent doting around forever. Born during the auspicious Durga Puja, Rabi got the first glimpse of the majestic goddess Durga when he was barely a day old, the ecstatic parents taking him to the Durga Temple in the village to get him blessed and anointed.
The first few days of the young Rabi’s life were filled with joy, with the joyous grandparents, various aunts and uncles all coming to visit the newborn and celebrating the auspicious blessings of Maa Durga quickly followed by the Bengali Laxmi Puja - the celebration of the goddess of wealth and good fortune!
However, after a few days, the relatives all left, leaving the newborn and the new parents to their own schedule. Nakul had to rejoin his office, having used up his vacation days, and right the next week, was asked to go to the district office for some new instructions. Even though Kaali Puja was the next day, Nakul had to make the early morning journey leaving the sleeping Rabi and anxious Archana behind.
Promising her that he would come back right after the urgent meeting called by the new superintendent, Nakul left for the bus stop. Even though winter was still a few months away, the days were shorter and the morning Sun wasn’t fully up, the road lit by the reddish glow of dawn filtering through the mist which was still slowly receding.
As he passed by the ever expanding adobe of Kripali Baba, as he had done a hundred times over the past year, he saw the sadhu sitting in the traditional lotus pose - deep in meditation.
Nakul brought his hands together clasping them briefly against his forehead in the traditional show of respect, before hurrying on his way to catch the bus from Dinhata.
Archana and Rabi had a pleasant morning, the mother son duo enjoying the sunshine in the small garden which they had just outside their cottage. Rabi lay on his back on the small plastic crib - a gift from an indulgent uncle, while Archana sat on a blanket next to him, singing him lullabies, laughing at the various expressions the newborn unwittingly made.
After giving him a massage with the baby oil, Archana gave him a quick bath in lukewarm water before feeding him and putting him down for a nap in their bedroom. She sat for a moment staring at her sleeping son, her heart full of joy and satisfaction.
However she had to get moving soon, the time the baby slept being the only window when she could get any of the household chores done. Even though the girl who helped out with the household chores took care of the more manual work, Archana still had to cook for herself and Nakul. She also washed all of baby Rabi’s clothes and knickknacks on her own, unable to trust anyone else with her baby’s things.
Finishing all the household chores took a while - Archana always had an ear cocked for the slightest stirring sound. Rabi was a light sleeper and would cry his eyes out if he woke up and didn’t find his mother next to him.
Finally done with all the chores, taking a quick min long bath, and scarfing down her lunch, Archana went to bed, lying down exhausted next to her baby.
Rain in the autumn months in Kunidanga isn’t unheard of, but it isn’t a common occurrence either. Thundershowers are definitely a more uncommon sight.
Archana woke up disoriented and scared at the clap of thunder which had crashed somewhere close by.
She hadn’t realised when she had dozed off, tired from the constant crushing routine which she had as a new mother. Now, awake, she was scared at the dark cloudy sky outside, the gusting wind, the clapping thunder.
She suddenly turned - where was Rabi? The small infant was nowhere on the bed! Archana let out a wail of despair, probably her precious baby had rolled over and fallen from the bed. But then why was he silent? Why was he not crying? Was he hurt?
She scrambled off the bed, searching for Rabi, but he wasn’t there.
He was hardly old enough to turn on his belly, so it wasn’t likely that he had crawled out of the room.
Desperately, with an anguished cry, Archana searched all around the tiny house, darkened by the storm approaching, with no power. The only source of light was the now near constant flashes of lightning.
The house was empty.
There was no Rabi.
Now completely panic stricken, Archana ran outside, ignoring the large drops of icy rain drenching her, the uneven unpaved road striking her bare feet.
The road was empty, no one had ventured out in this weather. The wind and the rain made it really hard to see anything.
Not knowing which way to go Archana ran towards the bus stop, for no good reason other than knowing that’s the direction Nakul would come back from.
She passed by Kripali Baba but he was nowhere to be seen. The rain was pouring down now and there were small puddles forming on the sodden ground around the thatched hut which Kripal Baba had built for himself.
Somehow drawn in by some irresistible fear and a deep sense of foreboding, Archana turned off the road and into the venerated plot, taking trepidation filled steps towards the drenched hut. The makeshift abode didn’t have a door, just a heavy rug hung from a string like a curtain.
Archana flung the curtain aside and stepped inside - it was empty. No sign of Kripali Baba. No sign of Rabi.
There was a rolled up mattress on one corner of the tiny space, a few change of clothes on a wooden pallet, acting as a cupboard, and a few odds and ends lying here and there.
Archana didn’t know what she was expecting but she ran back out, somehow relieved to have not found her son there in the sadhu’s hut but also more scared wondering where he might be.
Much later that evening Nakul came back to find a comatose Archana wailing while a few neighbouring women tried to console her. Shocked and desolate, Nakul rushed into the house, convinced that their little boy was hiding somewhere. He turned the entire cottage upside down but alas there was no sign of the missing child.
Minutes stretched to hours, hours into days. The hapless parents remained comatose, completely clueless about what might have happened to their child. Neighbours, relatives, well wishers all had some sort of advice or the other, but none which did anything to alleviate the pain and suffering the distraught couple was going through.
Even though Nakul was fraught with an unbearable sense of loss, Archana was comatose wracked by an overwhelming sense of guilt which sat like a suffocating weight on her chest. She had been castigating herself for falling asleep and not even realising that her baby wasn’t next to her anymore.
When she heard someone saying to go to Kaali temple near Salmara, the last village on the banks of the Torsa river before it entered Bangladesh, she made up her mind to go. She had heard that the deity in that temple was particularly powerful and particularly keen to the plight of mothers - apparently the temple had been built and consecrated by a mother in memory of her child who had drowned in the river many years ago.
Nakul didn’t object. Even though he had given up hope and accepted it in his mind that their Rabi was lost, he didn’t want to dissuade Archana. They started off that very afternoon, taking a rickety old van from a kind neighbour, taking the long winding muddy roads along the bank of the river.
The Kaali Temple was old and bore a deserted look. It didn’t live up to its reputation of hosting a powerful deity who never let mothers return empty handed. There was no rush of devotees, no sound of clanging bells, no smell of incense or cut fruits - all the common sensitivities which one found afflicted near a temple.
Archana and Nakul hadn’t given any thought of bringing any offerings, they did not come here for any elaborate ritual, just to pray to a powerful deity to help them find their child.
As they walked towards the temple, they were surprised to see a lone figure sitting on the entrance steps, smoking a beedi.
Kripali Baba seemed to be equally surprised to see the couple, though he didn’t really seem to acknowledge their presence. If he had a flicker of recognition for them, he hid it well; neither did he raise an eyebrow at the couple’s dishevelled, unkempt appearance.
It was getting dark, seemingly the beginnings of another storm. Nakul hurried Archana inside the temple, they had a long way to go back.
Archana sat in front of the deity, elevated on a black stone. The deity was different from the others of the same goddess which she had ever seen. It seemed to be carved out of the same black rock as the base on which sat, the features carved out of stone. Even though the masonry was excellent, the features of the goddess had harsh edges - harsher than normal perhaps. What was most striking was her eyes. They seemed to be glowing, a strange lifelike quality quite astonishing to see in a stone carved idol.
Archana poured her heart out, dry eyed as there were no more tears left in her, she prayed to the goddess as only a mother can. She promised all that she had and all that she hadn’t, promised her own life and an eternal servitude to the goddess to have her child back.
All she wanted was for her Rabi to be back. Back to his mother’s embrace - where he belonged.
The stone deity had no answer. There was no sign, no crash of thunder as a prompt from the almighty that her deepest entreaties were heard.
Dejected, desolate Archana couldn’t control herself as she felt that the last vestiges of hope which she was nurturing in her heart were now broken. Her Rabi was not going to come back to her.
Nakul held Archana up, tears of a deep inconsolable grief flowing down his own face.
They stepped back out of the temple to dark skies. The wind had picked up and the heavy rain laden cumulonimbus clouds were racing in from the horizon shading the scenery with a dark hue.
Nakul suddenly shrank back, pulling Archana back as well. Kripali Baba lay on the ground, face up, eyes open, not breathing.
Quite dead.
There was a gaping wound in his stomach, a bloody, raw puncture.
Inside out.
As if something inside his stomach had tried to crawl out. Crawl out in a hurry. As if, that something, was being summoned. Summoned by a mother.

hi!! i’m a hobbyist playwright and i’m looking to write for musical theatre just for fun really, i’m at that point in the process where i’ve got ideas and now i need to analyse the medium more.
are there any musicals that are considered “objectively” good or “objectively” bad? or just musicals that are widely loved or widely disliked, either by general audiences, theatre nerds, or yourself? (or maybe a combination of the three?)
if you’re wondering about my experience with the genre itself: i’ve played in pit bands before for musicals held at my school since i was 14 and i also used to be a theatre nerd when i was younger. i also have to study musical theatre pieces as a music student for my a-levels (or sats/ap-level music class for americans)
i mainly write prose but i’m looking to. expand my range(?). again this is just for fun (and also to gain experience) at the moment. having a work of mine staged is a dream of mine, but right now i just don’t have the skills or experience to write a good book. plus getting a new work staged at all seems pretty difficult nowadays, so primarily, my goal is to just create something i’m proud of and have fun whilst doing it. anyways,
if more details are needed about the hypothetical musical in order to give me a appropriate selection, i’ll happily provide!! just let me know!! thank you in advance!! sorry if this was long-winded!!

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• 11-11 Memories Retold
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• CAPSULE
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• CHANGE: A Homeless Survival Experience
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• Cook, Serve, Delicious!
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• Coromon
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• Destroyer: The U-Boat Hunter
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• DISTRAINT
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• Pro Cycling Manager 2020
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• RIVE: Wreck, Hack, Die, Retry!
• Road to Ballhalla
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• Scheming Through The Zombie Apocalypse: The Beginning
• ScourgeBringer
• SCP: Secret Files
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• Space Raiders in Space
• Space Rangers HD: A War Apart
• Sparklite
• SpellForce 2 - Anniversary Edition
• Spelunx and the Caves of Mr. Seudo
• Spin Rush
• Spirit of the Island
• Spirited Heart Deluxe
• Spiritual Warfare & Wisdom Tree Collection
• Splasher
• Splice
• Spooky Bonus
• SPRAWL
• Spring Bonus
• Square's Route
• Star Ruler
• STAR WARS - Knights of the Old Republic
• STAR WARS Episode I Racer
• STAR WARS Galactic Battlegrounds Saga
• Star Wars Jedi Knight II: Jedi Outcast
• Star Wars Jedi Knight: Dark Forces II
• Star Wars Jedi Knight: Jedi Academy
• STAR WARS Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords
• Star Wars: Dark Forces
• Star Wolves
• Star Wolves 3: Civil War
• StarCrossed
• Starpoint Gemini 2 Gold Pack
• Starpoint Gemini 3
• Starsand
• Starsphere
• SteamWorld Dig
• Steel Rats
• Steel Storm: Burning Retribution
• Steelrising
• Stick Fight: The Game
• Still Life
• Still Life 2
• Stirring Abyss
• STONE
• Storm Boy
• STRANGER
• Strategy & Tactics: Wargame Collection
• Stray Gods: The Roleplaying Musical
• Streets of Fury EX
• Strider
• StrikeForce Kitty
• Strikey Sisters
• Stronghold Crusader HD
• Struggling
• Stubbs the Zombie in Rebel Without a Pulse
• Stygian: Reign of the Old Ones
• Styx: Master of Shadows
• Submerged: Hidden Depths
• SuchArt: Genius Artist Simulator
• Sudden Strike 2 Gold
• Sudden Strike Gold
• Summer in Mara
• Sumoman
• Sunblaze
• Super Crazy Rhythm Castle
• Super Daryl Deluxe
• Super Magbot
• Super Panda Adventures
• Super Star Path
• Superbugs: Awaken
• Superdimension Neptune VS Sega Hard Girls
• Superfly
• Supraland
• Survivalist
• Survivalist: Invisible Strain
• Swag and Sorcery
• Swapperoo
• Switch Galaxy Ultra (+ Charity Pack 1 DLC & Music Pack 1 DLC)
• Sword Legacy Omen
• Swords and Soldiers 2 Shawarmageddon
• Swords and Soldiers HD
• Syberia
• Syberia 2
• Syberia 3
• Symphony of War: The Nephilim Saga
• Synergia
• System Shock: Enhanced Edition
• Tacoma
• Tails Noir
• Take Off - The Flight Simulator
• Tales [PC]
• Talisman: Digital Edition
• Talisman: Origins
• Talk to Strangers
• Tallowmere
• Teddy Floppy Ear - Mountain Adventure
• Telepath Tactics Liberated
• Tenta Shooter
• Terror of Hemasaurus
• Teslagrad Remastered
• Tharsis
• The Adventure Pals
• The Amazing American Circus
• The Ambassador: Fractured Timelines
• The Anacrusis
• The Ascent
• The Ball
• The Big Con
• The Blackout Club
• The Book of Desires
• The Book of Unwritten Tales
• The Bridge
• The Butterfly Sign
• The Coma 2: Vicious Sisters
• The Coma: Recut - Deluxe Edition
• The Count Lucanor
• The Dark Eye: Chains of Satinav
• The Elder Scrolls Adventures: Redguard
• The Enchanted Cave 2
• The Excavation of Hob's Barrow
• The Fall
• The Final Station
• The Flame in the Flood
• The Flying Dutchman
• The Forgotten City
• The God's Chain
• The Golf Club 2019 featuring PGA TOUR
• The Great Gatsby: Secret Treasure
• The Great Perhaps
• The Gunk
• The Hong Kong Massacre
• The Horror Of Salazar House
• The Indie Mixtape
• The Innsmouth Case
• The Ironclads Collection
• The Joylancer: Legendary Motor Knight
• The Keep
• The King's Bird
• The Kings' Crusade
• The Lady
• The Last Campfire
• The Legend of Tianding
• The LEGO Movie - Videogame
• The LEGO NINJAGO Movie Video Game
• The Letter - Horror Visual Novel
• The Life and Suffering of Sir Brante
• The Low Road
• The Manhole: Masterpiece Edition
• The Mooseman
• The Myth Seekers: The Legacy of Vulcan
• The Occupation
• The Oil Blue: Steam Legacy Edition
• The Pale Beyond
• The Ramp
• The Red Lantern
• The Sacred Tears TRUE
• The Secret Order 2: Masked Intent
• The Secret Order 3: Ancient Times
• The Secret Order 5: The Buried Kingdom
• The Secret Order 6: Bloodline
• The Serpent Rogue
• The Shadow Government Simulator
• The Shapeshifting Detective
• The Spectrum Retreat
• The Stillness of the Wind
• The Suicide of Rachel Foster
• The Swindle
• The Swords of Ditto: Mormo's Curse
• The Textorcist: The Story of Ray Bibbia
• The Town of Light
• The Uncertain: Last Quiet Day
• The Uncertain: Light At The End
• The USB Stick Found in the Grass
• The Void
• The Walking Dead: Michonne - A Telltale Miniseries
• The Way
• The Wild Eight
• Theatre of War
• Theatre of War 2: Africa 1943
• Theatre of War 2: Centauro
• Theatre of War 2: Kursk 1943 + Battle for Caen DLC
• Theatre of War 3: Korea
• Them and Us
• There Is No Light: Enhanced Edition
• They Bleed Pixels
• They Breathe
• Thief of Thieves: Season One
• Think of the Children
• This is the Zodiac Speaking
• This War of Mine
• This Way Madness Lies
• Through The Darkest of Times
• Through the Woods
• Time Loader
• Time on Frog Island
• Timore 5
• Tin Can
• Tiny and Big: Grandpa's Leftovers
• Tiny Tales: Heart of the Forest
• Tiny Troopers
• Tinytopia
• Titeuf: Mega Party
• Tobe's Vertical Adventure
• TOEM
• Toki
• Toodee and Topdee
• Tooth and Tail
• Torchlight
• Toto Temple Deluxe
• Townsmen - A Kingdom Rebuilt
• Toy Tinker Simulator
• Train Valley
• Train Valley 2
• Trapped Dead
• TRAUMA
• Treasure Hunter Simulator
• Trek to Yomi
• Trifox
• Tropico 3
• TROUBLE JUICE
• Truberbrook
• Truck Racer
• Trulon: The Shadow Engine
• TSIOQUE
• Tunche
• Turba
• Turbo Golf Racing
• Turnip Boy Commits Tax Evasion
• Twin Mirror
• Twin Sector
• UFO: Afterlight
• UFO: Afterlight - Old Version
• Ultimate Zombie Defense
• Ultra Space Battle Brawl
• Unbox: Newbie's Adventure
• Underhero
• UNDETECTED
• Unexplored
• Unexplored 2: The Wayfarer's Legacy
• Unity of Command II
• Unity of Command Trilogy Bundle (Unity of Command: Stalingrad Campaign + Red Turn DLC + Black Turn DLC)
• Unity of Command: Stalingrad Campaign
• UNLOVED
• UnMetal
• URU: Complete Chronicles
• Us and Them
• V-Rally 4
• Valfaris
• Vambrace: Cold Soul
• Vampire: The Masquerade - Coteries of New York
• Vampire: The Masquerade - Shadows of New York
• Vane
• Vanguard Princess
• Vault Cracker
• Vectronom
• Vegas: Make It Big
• Velocity Noodle
• Velocity Ultra (Velocity®Ultra)
• Verlet Swing
• Vessel
• Victory: The Age of Racing - Steam Founder Pack
• VirtuaVerse
• Vive le Roi
• Vive le Roi 2
• Voltage High Society
• Voltaire: The Vegan Vampire
• Wacky Wheels
• Wall World
• Wand Wars
• WARBORN
• Warhammer 40,000: Mechanicus
• Warhammer Age of Sigmar: Realms of Ruin - Ultimate Edition
• Warhammer: End Times - Vermintide
• Warman
• Warrior Kings
• WARSAW
• Warstone TD
• Wayward
• Wayward Souls
• We Are The Dwarves
• We should talk.
• Weaving Tides
• Werewolf: The Apocalypse - Heart of the Forest
• West of Dead
• What Lies in the Multiverse
• When Ski Lifts Go Wrong
• Where the Water Tastes Like Wine
• Whispering Willows
• White Night
• Who Pressed Mute on Uncle Marcus?
• Who's That Flying?!
• Wick
• Wildfire
• Will You Snail?
• Windjammers 2
• Windscape
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• Wizorb
• Wobbledogs
• Wolfenstein 3D
• Wordle
• Wordle 2
• Wordle 3
• Wordle 4
• Wordle 5
• World Keepers: Last Resort
• Worms Blast
• Worms Rumble
• Worms World Party Remastered
• WRC 6 FIA World Rally Championship
• WRC 7 FIA World Rally Championship
• WWE 2K BATTLEGROUNDS
• Wytchwood
• X-COM: Complete Pack (X-COM: UFO Defense, X-COM: Apocalypse, X-COM: Enforcer, X-COM: Interceptor, X-COM: Terror from the Deep)
• X-Morph: Defense
• X-Morph: Defense Complete Pack
• XEL
• Yesterday Origins
• Yono and the Celestial Elephants
• Youropa
• Ziggurat
• Zoeti
• Zombie Army Trilogy
• Zombie Driver HD
• Zombie Driver HD Complete Edition
• Zombie Pirates
• Zombie Shooter
• Zombieland: Double Tap - Road Trip
• ZombieRush
• Zool Redimensioned
• Zwei: The Arges Adventure
• Zwei: The Ilvard Insurrection

Have a great weekend ya'll.

Live Music

FRIDAY - 6/7 - Dierks Bentley @ Dickies Arena @ 7PM With Chace Rice & Zach Top
FRIDAY - 6/7 - Vampire Weekend @ Toyota Music Factory @ 7PM
FRIDAY - 6/7 - Drain @ The Factory in Deep Ellum @ 7PM With Terror, Angel Du$t, End It, & Dead Heat
FRIDAY - 6/7 - Jeff Bernat @ House of Blues @ 7PM
FRIDAY - 6/7 - K-Pop Night ft. DJ Yuka K @ Deep Ellum Art Co @ 9PM
FRIDAY - 6/7 - Cash Cash @ Stereo Live @ 10PM
FRIDAY - 6/7 - The Texas Blues Guitar Summit @ The Kessler @ 8PM
FRIDAY - 6/7 - Offended by Everything @ Trees @ 8PM
FRIDAY - 6/7 - Go Yayo @ Club Dada @ 10PM
FRIDAY - 6/7 - Eric Tessmer + Mark Lettieri @ Granada Theater @ 8PM
SATURDAY - 6/8 - Tye Tribbett @ Toyota Music Factory @ 7:30PM
SATURDAY - 6/8 - United We Dance: EDM Rave @ Granada Theater @ 9PM Featuring Jonathen Hess & Adonix
SATURDAY - 6/8 - Boogie T. @ The Factory in Deep Ellum @ 8PM With Truth, Veil, & Chef Boyarbeatz
SATURDAY - 6/8 - Allan Rayman @ The Factory in Deep Ellum @ 8PM With Michael Lemmo
SATURDAY - 6/8 - Cozy Dallas Party @ House of Blues @ 7PM Playing iconic 90s and 2000s R&B hits!
SATURDAY - 6/8 - Funtcase @ Stereo Live @ 10PM
SATURDAY - 6/8 - Eliminate @ Deep Ellum Art Co @ 9PM
SATURDAY - 6/8 - Mickey Avalon @ Trees @ 8PM
SATURDAY - 6/8 - NSB @ Club Dada @ 8:30PM With Austin George
SUNDAY - 6/9 - Chiquis @ Toyota Music Factory @ 8PM
SUNDAY - 6/9 - Janine @ The Echo Music Hall @ 7PM
SUNDAY - 6/9 - An Orchestral Rendition of Dr Dre 2001 @ House of Blues @ 7PM

Standup Comedy:

FRIDAY - 6/7 - Jimmy Failla Stand Up @ Majestic Theatre @ 8PM
FRIDAY & SATURDAY - 6/7 - 6/8 - Francisco Ramos Stand Up @ Dallas Comedy Club
SATURDAY - 6/8 - Nate Jackson Stand Up @ Majestic Theatre @ 7PM
SATURDAY - 6/8 - Gabriel Iglesias Stand Up @ Arlington Improv @ 3:30PM
SUNDAY - 6/9 - David Del Rosario Stand Up @ Addison Improv @ 7:30PM
ALL WEEKEND - Noel Miller Stand Up @ Addison Improv
ALL WEEKEND - Concrete Stand Up @ Arlington Improv

Sports:

FRIDAY - 6/7 - Rangers vs Giants @ Globe Life Field @ 7PM Promotion: Pregame Happy Hour
SATURDAY - 6/8 - Rangers vs Giants @ Globe Life Field @ 3PM Promotion: Pregame Happy Hour
SUNDAY - 6/9 - Rangers vs Giants @ Globe Life Field @ 12PM Promotion: Ice Cream Sundays
Official Mavericks Watch Party @ American Airlines Center @ 7PM Cheer on your Dallas Mavericks in the 2024 NBA Finals

Cultural and Theater:

FRIDAY - 6/7 - Chamber Classics Concert @ FW Botanic Gardens @ 7:30PM FWSO performs an intimate chamber experience featuring classics from Mozart, Grieg, Dvořák, and Tchaikovsky in the beautiful setting of Fort Worth Botanic Gardens.
FRIDAY - 6/7 - Drag Show with Boulet Brothers @ House of Blues @ 7PM The Boulet Brothers Dragula: The Official Season 5 Tour is hitting the road and bringing the screams and glamor to Dallas!
FRIDAY & SATURDAY - 6/7 - 6/8 - Texas Music Revolution Music Festival @ Downtown Mckinney Square Featuring Lukas Nelson, Lyle Lovett, Jason Boland & The Stragglers, and more!
ALL WEEKEND - ‘Radiance’ Dance Show @ Moody Performance Hall Experience the grand finale of Bruce Wood’s 14th season with an unforgettable showcase featuring three captivating and emotionally powerful dance performances.
ALL WEEKEND - ‘Grease’ Musical @ Casa Manana Everyone’s favorite rock-and-roll musical is back! Fall back in love with the T-Birds and the Pink Ladies and get ready to jam to electrifying hits!
ALL WEEKEND - ‘Anastasia’ Musical @ Plaza Theatre Company LAST CHANCE- Based on the beloved animated movie, ‘Anastasia’ is both a heartwarming and heart-wrenching dive into one of history’s biggest unanswered questions: what happened to Grand Duchess Anastasia Romanov?
ALL WEEKEND - ‘Hamilton’ Musical @ Winspear Opera House LAST CHANCE - Don’t miss the chance to see this epic saga about the life and legacy of Founding Father Alexander Hamilton and find out why it has made a profound impact on the way we think about our history.
ALL WEEKEND - ‘Fiddler on the Roof’ Musical @ Plaza Theatre LAST CHANCE - This classic and much beloved award-winning tale captures the essential human longings for love, community, success, freedom, family, and meaning.
ALL WEEKEND - ‘Thoughts of a Colored Man’ Play @ Jubilee Theatre This poignant play explores the lives, pressures, and passions of seven contemporary black men living in the same neighborhood in Brooklyn.
ALL WEEKEND - ‘Sherlock Holmes and the Adventure of the Elusive Ear’ Play @ Stage West Theatre This zany mystery play takes Sherlock Holmes, Dr. Watson, Oscar Wilde, and Vincent Van Gogh on a rousing adventure.

Experiences / Family:

FRIDAY - 6/7 - First Fridays @ Deep Ellum @ 5PM Enjoy neighborhood discounts and specials, live music, and an outdoor market.
FRIDAY - 6/7 - ‘Little Mermaid’ Screening @ Fair Park @ 8PM
SATURDAY - 6/8 - Water Lantern Festival @ Panther Island Pavilion @ 6PM Experience the magic of the Water Lantern Festival where you’ll enjoy tasty food trucks, fun music, and an incredible sight of thousands of floating lanterns reflecting unique messages.
SATURDAY - 6/8 - Farmers Market @ Fair Park @ 10AM
SATURDAY - 6/8 - Swap and Shop @ AT&T Discovery District @ 12PM Shop from more than 60 local vendors or trade and sell your own items at this exclusive shopping event!
SATURDAY - 6/8 - ‘Avatar: The Way of Water’ Screening @ Klyde Warren Park @ 6:30PM
SATURDAY & SUNDAY - 6/8 - 6/9 - Pride in Bloom @ Dallas Arboretum Celebrate diversity and community with two full days of live music, chef demonstrations, LGBTQ+ vendor market, and much more!
SUNDAY - 6/9 - BIC Soleil Escape Pop-Up @ Klyde Warren Park @ 10AM Relax with hand massages, an ASMR exhibit, hammocks, giveaways, and more at the BIC Soleil Escape Razor Pop Up Pods.
ALL WEEKEND - Fan Expo Dallas @ Kay Bailey Hutchinson Convention Center Experience the ultimate fandom weekend of celebs, cosplay, comics, anime, gaming, and more fun activities for every fan out there!
DAILY - ‘Destination: Dinosaurs’ @ Dallas Zoo Uncover the secrets of the dinosaurs as you wander among the shadows of over 100 life-sized colossal giants in one of the largest immersive dinosaur exhibits in the country.
DAILY - ‘T-Rex: The Ultimate Predator’ Exhibition @ Perot Museum Come explore the latest research and discoveries about tyrannosaurs, with an emphasis on the most famous and impressive member of the family — T. Rex.

Museum and Arts:

DAILY - ‘From Munch to Kirchner: The Heins Collection’ Exhibition @ DMA The exhibition celebrates the legacy and art collection of Marie “Elinor” Heins through the recent gift of 30 paintings, sculptures, and works on paper by artists like Renoir, Signac, Toulouse-Lautrec, and Munch
DAILY - ‘The Impressionist Revolution: From Monet to Matisse’ Exhibition @ DMA The exhibition explores the fascinating story of Impressionism from its birth in 1874 to its legacy in the early 20th century and the revolutionary course it charted for modern art.
DAILY - ‘He Said/She Said: Contemporary Women Artists Interject’ Exhibition @ DMA Join contemporary women artists in questioning the myth of the sole male genius in an exhibition where contributions from male artists are strategically appropriated in order to create space for new, more inclusive narratives.
DAILY - ‘Tiffany Chung: Rise Into The Atmosphere’ Installation @ DMA Contending with current sociopolitical issues in relation to history and cultural memory, Chung’s practice documents and discusses the hidden histories of personal memory and experience.
DAILY - ‘Barnaby Fitzgerald: An Eye for Ballast’ Exhibition @ Meadows Museum This focused, monographic exhibition of key paintings by Dallas-based artist Barnaby Fitzgerald featuring his otherworldly landscapes and interior scenes, which contemplate themes from literature, mythology, and art history.
DAILY - ‘Surrealism and Us: Caribbean and African Diasporic Artists Since 1940’ Exhibition @ The Modern Centered on the intersection of Caribbean aesthetics, Afrosurrealism, and Afrofuturism, ‘Surrealism and Us’ explores how Caribbean and Black artists interpreted a modernist movement.
DAILY - ‘Rebecca Manson: Barbecue’ Exhibition @ The Modern Manson’s first solo museum presentation defies viewers’ expectations of clay as an art material as her monumental work evokes tension and stillness as two dualities of daily life.
DAILY - ‘Mexican Roots: Masks, Prints, and Traditional Arts of Mexico’ Exhibition @ Fort Worth Museum of Science and History Celebrate the vibrant world of masks and relief prints that capture the essence of Mexican history, people, culture, and religion.
Many of you all have asked me to setup an email list, you can sign up here. I'll start sending this as an email in the next few weeks, thanks for your patience while I get things figured out.

I like Neistat but you know, one gets the impression that somewhere inside him is a repetitive, foot-in-the-door "sales bro". When he's not actually creating great visual stuff, his main theme appears to be banal, hallmark-card motivational clichés... I mean, hard work is great, but come on, he keeps company with some shifty snake-oil salesman, bro-vitamin-pill-peddlers and spoilt, greedy YouTube hucksters who would sell fake crypto or sugar-soda to kids. There's an occasional tradition of aggressive sales / motivational speakers in America that as a Brit one is a bit cynical about though, so maybe it's me.
Still, another Neistat buddy, for example, is that irritating, buzzing-on-something "hustle" nutjub Gary Vee. Remember that Vee bloke? Well he's just another very loud sales bro, without a care for arts & culture. Rather like those New York property bros, Vee would happily get a theatre or a museum torn down for a profit deal.
Anyway, the funniest thing? I saw on an early vlog video that Neistat has a tattoo that says, "Always be closing". This is a phase essentially made famous by Alec Baldwin's salesman character "Blake" in the film "Glengarry Glen Ross" (1992). What nobody seem to have told Neistat is that the film is savage imputation and merciless critique of sales culture. You're not supposed to admire Alec Baldwin's character in the film.
Baldwin sometimes complains that douchebag sales bros come up to him in real life and quote the phrase, having completely missed the point. Neistat? He gets it bloody tattooed on him.

Hey everyone. Long time lurker, first time poster. I'm a professional Theatre Kid™️ who used to study/work in NYC from 2018-2020, and given how a lot of the drama surrounding AG revolves around Wicked and her being in her 'theatre girl era', I have some thoughts I'd like to share.
First and foremost, I've seen a lot of people citing the fact that she was on broadway as a young teenager as adequate experience for her taking on the role of Galinda in Wicked. Personally, I don't think this is true. Had she continued her theatre careeprofessional training consistently throughout her years following that, I might have a different opinion, but most people in the industry agree that in order to be a successful, well-rounded performer in a musical theatre setting, the learning never stops. Many Broadway A-listers still take acting, vocal, and dance classes with beginners decades into their career, which shows a dedication to their love of the craft beyond a certain show or role or 'era' of their career. However, from what I understand of her career, it seems to me that Ariana went from 13 on Broadway to Nickelodeon, then into pop stardom with a few minor acting gigs here and there, and she only really began taking her performance training seriously when amping up for Wicked.
Which brings me to my second point: Many choose to cite how AG 'loves theatre' and is a 'theatre kid at heart' as to why she's acting the way she is now, moving to NYC, frequenting Broadway, and especially why she is a good casting choice for Wicked. Let me just say this: You can enjoy theatre/Broadway/musicals as much as you want, there's no 'test' you need to pass in order to be considered a musical theatre lover. To me, it's clear that she DOES love musicals, given her long history of singing Broadway covers, dressing up as characters, speaking about her love of certain shows, etc. and on a general basis I do thing she genuinely loves Broadway. That being said, do I think she would be a good fit for the theatre scene in person? Absolutely not. Listen to any A-list Oscar-winning celebrity who has had a turn on Broadway speak about their experience, all generally have the same thing to say: when you're in a Broadway show with a company, it doesn't matter who has the biggest career, most awards, who is the 'most famous', etc. Everyone is on the same level, nobody is more important than anyone else, and bonds are made throughout the cast from Hollywood A-listers to novices making their debut (see currently: Daniel Radcliffe in Merrily We Roll Along, Eddie Redmayne in Cabaret, both Hollywood-level celebrities on Broadway who have appeared to embrace being members of a company and formed bonds with every level of castmate). This is a tenant taught all the way through any theatre/conservatory educational program.
If she wanted, she could have easily played Galinda on Broadway. Wicked, due to it's massive success, rarely (if ever) stuntcasts since it doesn't need celebrities to draw in audiences and seems to value the artistic integrity of itself, but Ariana, with her influence, talent, and public love for the show, could have easily arranged something as small as a 6-week run on Broadway, many Hollywood actors do that. Broadway Vanity Projects are pretty commonplace and as long as you're going to make the producers money, you can do pretty much whatever you want. However, she never did. In fact, I've never heard her express interest in a Broadway role other than Wicked. She seemed only to want the move.
I do not think that that is an environment that Ariana would like. Given the stories that have abounded since her time on Broadway, we've heard that she seems to be a diva who expects herself to be the center of attention and most important person in the room at all times. I think it's fair to assume that, given how movie-musicals are almost always box-office doomers, the production behind Wicked is banking on AG being their primary draw to the movie based on her massive, influential following. Because of that, I'd assume that she was essentially catered to hand and foot throughout the Wicked process, even all the way back during auditions (I don't personally believe she got the role because she was the best person for it, I think it mostly had to do with the fact that she's publicly lobbied for the role for years, and has the most star power of anyone who could actually sing the score). She was allowed to have influence over the script, how she was filmed (most shots of her have her using her 'favourite' side of her face), and even use her own makeup brand and do most of her own makeup style (see: the nose contour). If Ariana were to enter into an actual professional theatre environment, I think it would be a massive culture shock for her. Of course, fellow castmates might be fans and try and milk her for some clout or whatever, and she'd be a headliner and used to promote things, but I seriously doubt she would be allowed the amount of creative/professional control she was given on Wicked and pretty much all of her other projects, and she would have to share the spotlight with her co-stars, which seems like it would be too far out of her comfort zone for her to actually go through with. She has publically associated and loved on only the Hollywood members of her cast (except for Ethan, though we all know why that is), excluding key cat members like Marissa Bode or Bronwyn James and not even a whisper about the ensemble members.
Now, taking a bit of a left turn, I want to talk a little bit about Ethan Slater. I did not nor do I currently know him personally, nor have I ever worked with him. However, I have met him in social settings a few times, and while I can't speak to the conversation that's been going on on this sub about him potentially being a serial cheater (I don't recall ever meeting Lilly), I can say this: I first met him in about Jan/Feb of 2018, when SpongeBob was still pretty new on Broadway. We only had a group conversation together, but he all around seemed like a very friendly and happy, if a bit awkward and shy, guy who was just happy to be there. I met him at another social gathering in like April or May, and got the same impression. He was really nice, a little reserved and mostly just talked to his friends who he was there with, but was generally very smiley, laughing a lot, and pretty easygoing. I knew a few other people who met/worked with him, and they all had the same thing to say, both at this time, and agreeing with me about his attatude later.
I met him in the short period between the Tony awards and when SpongeBob closed on Broadway, and the vibe I got from him was very different. He seemed a lot more pensive and the impression I got was that he was almost trying to take himself too seriously and that he thought he was a lot more important than he was, as though he was trying to emulate the 'Inside The Actor's Studio' turtleneck-and-tweed-jacket-wearing level of drama intellect that a lot of theatre people try and put on themselves. I was very surprised at how he seemed quite different, a lot more subdued, as though he was trying to put off a 'chill', mature, professional vibe. I followed his career a bit after SpongeBob and saw this reflected in his work and how he publicly presented himself, as well- he began being a little more risqué, swearing in songs and on Instagram, producing 'darker', more 'serious' content. It seemed like he was pushing a pit of an 'I'm kinda messed up, a bit of an outcast, and I know true pain and suffering' vibe, without being very outright about it. It all looked to me like right after the Tonys, right around the time he got married and for the rest of that year, he was really trying to show that he was more than just 'the SpongeBob guy' and give a different image of himself as a more diverse, mature, intelligent artist and man. Which I understand, but the shift in his attitude from before the Tonys to after, both in-person and online, was very noticeable and drastic.
I met him one other time in late 2019, and he seemed to have mellowed out a bit in terms of trying to be a tenured professor at the School of Having A Stick Up Your Ass And Trying To Convince Everyone You're Smarter And More Mature and Fucked Up Than You Really Are. He seemed a bit happier, a little more relaxed, though still kinda douchey in the sense that he seemed to think he was smarter and more creatively gifted than everyone because he wrote about sex and life and death, but generally was a bit nicer to be around.
That's all I can really say, again he and I never really had a one-on-one conversation aside from, like, exchanging names. I never knew him beyond those minute interactions and his social media presence, but being in the room with him, that was the impression he gave from 2018-almost 2020. His shift in demeanour now is like his post-Tony's self turned up to a thousand, plus a huge helping of self-importance and willful ignorance. I haven't met him since 2019 but I can only imagine that if I found myself in a room with him again, I'd likely avoid him, lest I be trapped into a conversation with anyone in the general vicinity about how Wicked was 'the inexplicable experience of a lifetime' and being forced to listen to him probably drop subtle hints about his 'girlfriend' or 'accidentally' showing off a lockscreen with her on it, fishing for people to ask about the most interesting thing about him- Ariana Grande. It's very sad to me.

As the sun sets, Sydney, a city renowned for its iconic structures and dynamic culture, becomes a magnificent spectacle. The nightlife of the city provides a wide range of experiences to suit every taste and preference. Sydney nights are charming and exciting, with options ranging from rooftop bars with panoramic views to opulent Sydney Harbour dinner cruises. Here are just some of the greatest ways to experience Sydney's nightlife and explore it.
Rooftop Bars and Sky Lounges
Sydney's sky lounges and rooftop bars are great places to unwind if you prefer a more laid-back yet elegant ambiance. Locations with expansive city views include Darling Harbour's Zephyr Bar and The Rocks' Glenmore Hotel. It is a magical atmosphere to sip on a cocktail and watch the city lights twinkle below. The lively yet relaxed ambiance of these bars is enhanced by the frequent presence of live DJ sets or acoustic performances.
Sydney Harbour Dinner Cruises
A boat cruise with dinner in Sydney is among the most magical ways to see Sydney at night. With the Sydney Opera House and the Harbour Bridge lit up against the night sky, these cruises provide a unique viewpoint of the city's famous skyline. Savour a fine dining experience with fresh seafood and other regional specialties while cruising the calm waters. An amazing evening is created when fine dining, live music, and breathtaking views are combined. Numerous packages are offered by well-known cruise lines to accommodate a variety of tastes and price ranges.
Night Markets
The night markets in Sydney are an excellent way to get a taste of the local way of life. Every Friday night, the Chinatown Night Market is a hive of activity. A variety of handcrafted goods, live entertainment, and street food from different cuisines are available at the stalls here. It's a great place to explore and get a sense of the local vibe because of the vibrant atmosphere and the wide selection of food and products. The Carriageworks Night Market, which highlights seasonal themes, local produce, and gourmet food prepared by well-known chefs, is another favourite market.
The Rocks Ghost Tours
The Rocks Ghost Tours, which take place in one of Sydney's oldest neighbourhoods, offer a spine-tingling experience for thrill seekers. These tours lead you through old buildings and winding lanes while telling you stories about the area's eerie past. Experience something different and captivating with the blend of history and ghost stories and the eerie nighttime setting.
Sydney Opera House Shows
Seeing a performance at the iconic Sydney Opera House would complete any trip to Sydney. The Opera House presents a wide variety of shows that appeal to all tastes, whether you like opera, ballet, theatre, or contemporary music. Attending a show at night gives you the opportunity to observe the building's architectural beauty on the inside as well as the outside, as it comes to life after dark.
Darling Harbour Fireworks
Darling Harbour hosts a spectacular fireworks display every Saturday night. Families, couples, and anyone else wanting to brighten up their evening can all enjoy the magical experience of watching the fireworks light up the sky over the water. It's a great idea to have dinner or drinks before the show because the area is home to a number of restaurants and bars.
Luna Park
It's essential to visit Luna Park for a fun-filled, nostalgic evening. This vintage amusement park provides a fun diversion with its vintage rides and funfair games. Both kids and adults will love the whimsical atmosphere that the park's lights create at night. The Ferris wheel enhances the allure of this well-known attraction by offering breathtaking views of the harbour.
Sydney's nightlife is just as vibrant and varied as the city. The evenings have something to offer everyone, whether your preference is for a boat cruise with dinner in Sydney, the energetic ambiance of night markets or just lounging on a rooftop bar. Discovering Sydney's allure at night guarantees an unforgettable experience, enchanting you with the beauty and energy of the city after dark.

Sanada Yukimura is one of the better known samurai to people with only little knowledge of samurai, and in pop culture is credited with some of the most hyped epitaths. But given his exploits were at the last major engagement of the Sengoku period, how long did it take for him to become so celebrated?
Was his deeds adapted by writers and playwrights once the Edo cultural bloom began, or did he become famous only once all those who fought at Osaka had long passed?

And the only things I know are:

• there are elves
• apparently, one does not simply walk into Mordor
• there’s obviously a ring
• New Zealand is famous for the movies
• And “MY PRECIOUS”

Edit: Aw man, just realized AMC Theatres is doing a screening of them this weekend. Yeah, I’m definitely not finishing the books by then lololz.