Happy Valley - Candy Store #38 Flower
Smell - right out the jar, the smell has a strong spice smell to it. Not like pepper but like a cooking type spice or like the smell of a spice market lol. Also beside that there's a sweetness maybe fruitiness to it too. Breaking it up releases a sweet candy smell and skunkiness too. Sweet skunk, earthy and a little fruity. Like a candied earthy skunky sweet smell. And a strong spice smell as well like i said but that is mainly before breaking any of the buds up.
The buds are fresh, not dry or crumbly at all and don't crumble to dust when squeezed. Nice and fresh and moist. Sticky and dense.
Smoking - has a strong hashiness to the flavor when smoking (out of glass - I will update in comments with the flavor out of papers). Taste is similar to how I described the smell, but in a different way. Like I can definitely taste the spice, earthiness and fruit but they're kinda different in taste than they were in smell. I like the flavor a little more than I like the smell tbh. But like I said, I'll try it out of a joint and update in the comments. I feel like joints are the best way to decipher the taste of a strain.
I definitely liked this strain. HV has been very consistent in my experience with their flower. These buds looked great, smelled good and smoked good. I wish they had more flower sales or deals but they aren't overcharging really for their flower at all. And they're consistent like I said. Looking forward to trying the rest of the strains they currently have and deciding my favorite.
8.333/10.000

So there I am, The Desi Playboy, back in my scrawny college days, just a couple of lean dudes fresh off a bar-hopping spree, chilling at the bus stop. Out of nowhere, this hulk of a caucasoid frat bro comes up, gives me a slap on the back that damn near sends me flying into next Tuesday. "Owww!!" I couldn't help but yelp. Dude struts past us, throwing over his shoulder, "Time to hit the gym, boys!!" I brushed it off, ego slightly bruised. After all, I'm the guy who’s been repping out with 20 lb dumbbells in my apartment gym like I’m training for the Olympics. That’s got to count for something, right?
Growing up, our idea of exercise was running away from aunties at family gatherings or maybe the occasional cricket match that was more about snacks than sports. The gym? That was uncharted territory. Our parents, bless their hearts, equated physical fitness with being able to sprint for the bus without wheezing. The notion of lifting weights, tracking macros, and chugging protein shakes was as alien to them as ketchup on biryani.

Attraction: It’s More than Just Physical

Have you ever had a girl flirtatiously squeeze your biceps, reinforcing the stud that you are? How about playfully slapping your ass when you’re not looking? That moment, my man, is raw, primal attraction at its finest—a kind of magnetism most men sadly never get to feel. Are you getting that type of attention from the ladies? Going to the gym and lifting weights is the first step into becoming that fuckable specimen. Picture this: you're strutting around, radiating confidence, and women gravitate to you, captivated, before you even utter a word. Arguably, muscles on a man is the equivalent of nice tits and ass on a woman. It's like you've got this invisible force field of allure, and all it took was a little sweat, discipline, and iron at the gym.
Think about it. In a world where first impressions are made in the blink of an eye, your body speaks volumes before you've even had a chance to dazzle with your wit or charm. It's not superficial; it's literally science. Physical fitness signals health, vigor, and, let's be real, the ability to handle business, whether that's lifting heavy things during a move or just looking damn good in a fitted shirt. An unfortunate reality is that women often manipulate men to get their needs met. However, men can simply manipulate the environment themselves to get their needs met. You think your crush is opening those pickle jars by herself? A nice, jacked body signals to women that you are good at manipulating your immediate physical surroundings.
So, if you're lounging on the fence, wondering whether hitting the gym is worth it, let me spell it out for you: Hell yes, it is. Not for the fleeting attention or the shallow compliments, but for the undeniable boost in how you perceive yourself and, subsequently, how the world sees you including women. It's about becoming a magnet not just for looks, but for respect, confidence, and yes, a whole lot of that good old-fashioned primal attraction.
Get ready to be the guy who walks into a room and commands it, not because you demand it, but because you've earned it, one rep at a time. Let's ditch the excuses, embrace the grind, and transform not just our bodies, but our entire damn aura. The iron calls, gentlemen.

Built Different

Our Desi genes serve us a mixed platter when it comes to body types. Some of us are fat fucks, while others are fragile twigs no matter how many samosas we demolish. For those of you guys on the overweight side.. Do you have Ananth Ambani money? No? Then you literally can’t afford that body if you want pussy. And if you can afford that body it is gonna bite you in the ass when you have heart disease.
Those of you scrawny sticks? Stop looking down at the more muscular bros and start looking at the women they’re pulling. Don’t get me started on that weird gray area a lot of us brown dudes fall into. I’m talking about the skinny fat phenomenon—a term as oxymoronic as 'jumbo shrimp'. It’s that peculiar body type where you look slim clothed but are a marshmallow in disguise. It’s the bane of many a Desi dude, a sneaky reminder of all those laddoos and no leg days. Ready to get rid of the bitch tits?
Look around at the next family gathering. Notice how cousin Rohan is built like a tank, but you got that uncle bod? That’s your first clue that genetics play a bigger role in this game than you might’ve thought. Tailoring your workout to your body type isn’t just smart; it’s crucial if you want to see real, lasting results.
Custom Cuts: Here’s the deal—

• Ectomorph Bros (The Lean Machines): You’re the guy who can inhale a whole pizza and not gain an ounce. Your mission? Focus on strength training to build mass and incorporate calorie-dense foods to support growth. Less cardio, more lifting.
• Endomorph Gang (The Easy Gainers): You look at a donut, and it goes straight to your hips. Your path? A mix of cardio and strength training to shed fat while building lean muscle. And yeah, keeping an eye on those calories is key.
• Mesomorph Legends (The Natural Athletes): You’ve got the best of both worlds but don’t get cocky. Balance is your best friend—equal parts strength, cardio, and a diet that fuels both muscle building and fat loss.

Alright, which of these body types are you rocking? Lean Machine, Easy Gainer, or Natural Athlete? Time to design a workout routine that suits your unique build. Yes, The Desi Playboy is dishing out homework, but trust me, it’s for a mighty good cause: to make you irresistible to the ladies. Now before we actually start integrating that workout routine let’s not forget to revisit the food on our plate.

Desi Diet Doom

The Desi diet is a freakin’ carb fest—a glorious, tasty trap that’s basically a middle finger to your muscle gains and fat loss goals. You probably recognize the following: plates piled high with rice, naan, and rotis, with a side of “Are you even eating enough?” from every relative. Navigating this when you’re trying to get ripped or ditch the belly fat is like being on a diet in a candy store.
Every meal’s a carb carnival, and while you love it, your body’s begging like, “Bro, where’s the protein?” It's like trying to build a house with all bricks and no cement. And oh, the ghee and oil. Delicious? Hell yeah. Conducive to abs? Hell no. It’s like slathering your goals with butter—tasty but terribly counterproductive. Add to that the mountain of sweets at every family function—those jalebis and gulab jamuns are seductive, but they’re saboteurs hiding in plain sight, wrecking your waistline one sweet bite at a time. If you’re gunning for that sculpted look, it might be time to negotiate a peace treaty with your sweet tooth and get serious about sneaking more lean meats and greens onto your plate.
Now let’s be honest, are you cooking all these Indian meals yourself? Or have you become completely dependent on your mom’s cooking? Is the extent of your cooking skills limited to boiling water and maybe, on a good day, making a mean cup of chai? Let me guess you top off the chai with some of Amma’s sweet sweet titty milk too? Listen up, because here’s the deal breaker—women are attracted to guys who’ve got their life sorted, including what’s on their plate. And if you’re letting mom choose whether it’s dal or paneer for dinner tonight, don’t be surprised if she’s also the one choosing your bride.
This, my dudes, is precisely why I’m all about preaching the gospel of DIY in the kitchen. It’s more than just about mixing spices; it’s about mixing independence into your life recipe. Grabbing the reins of your culinary journey isn’t just about impressing dates; it’s about fueling your body right, especially if you’re looking to bulk up and carve out those gains.

Protein Power Moves

There’s a way to keep the flavors of home without turning into a samosa yourself. It’s about being smart with your choices, making swaps, and still being able to face your grandma without guilt.
Lean and Mean: Start mixing in more lean meats, tofu, and legumes. Think chicken tikka, dal tadka with less tadka, and grilled paneer. Your muscles will thank you. But why stop there? Venture beyond with dishes like Thai grilled chicken or Turkish lentil soup. These global cuisines offer high-protein dishes that still dance on the tongue.
Smart Swaps: Ditch the white rice for quinoa or brown rice. Swap some of those rotis for a big-ass bowl of salad. Sprinkle some Mediterranean zest with a Greek salad, or bring a burst of Japanese flavor with a side of edamame. It’s about keeping the essence of Desi cuisine but making it work for your gains.
Supplement Smartly: Yeah, protein shakes might look like drugs to your folks, but they’re your BFFs on this journey. Mix that stuff with some milk or water, and chug. Think of it as a cheat code for muscle building—quick, efficient, and straight to the point.
Explore and Expand: Don’t be shy to sprinkle some culinary curiosity into your diet. Try Korean BBQ for a protein-packed meal, or if you're feeling adventurous, a Peruvian ceviche can offer a refreshing twist packed with high-quality protein. These flavors not only enhance your palate but also fuel your fitness goals.
So, there you have it. Turning the Desi diet dilemma into a muscle-building manifesto doesn’t have to be a soap opera. Keep the flavors, ditch the excess carbs and fats, and for the love of all that is holy, make protein your main homie. Expand your culinary horizons to keep your meals exciting and your body guessing.

From Diet to Dates

Alright, my fellow Desi bros, let’s wrap this up. If you’re serious about leveling up your game with the ladies, it’s time to get real about your diet, fitness, and lifestyle. Tailor your workout to your body type—whether you're an ectomorph, endomorph, or mesomorph—and make the gym your second home. Ditch the carb-loaded Desi diet for protein-packed meals. Whether you’re eating lean meats or are a vegetarian, make smart swaps like quinoa for white rice and grilled paneer for fried snacks.
Start cooking for yourself to fuel those gains and show you’ve got your life together. These changes lay the foundation for attracting women by boosting your confidence and health. The journey starts now. Let’s make those gains and turn some heads. The iron awaits, gentlemen.
Stay tuned for Part 2, where we’ll dive into lifting and integrating your workout routine to get you on track.
Check out the full article here: https://open.substack.com/pub/desiplayboy/p/iron-and-spices?r=k8bgi&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web
For more such insights and to continue the conversation, follow me on Twitter at https://twitter.com/TheDesiPlayboy.

By popular demand, I guess...
I was kinda just being a smart-ass, but some of you wanted more so here it is: epilogues for every NPC as if they didn't continue to travel with Gorion's Ward and instead just decided to live their own life. Obviously, there are some implied alignment changes here.
This turned out to be longer than I expected and I kinda just threw it all together while I was working. Please excuse any typos or sloppy writing.
I want to apologize for one thing, though. Viconia's epilogue really only works if GW is a male, so I had to make that assumption for the sake of her story. If it matters any, I easily play just as many female GWs as I do male GWs. In fact, I probably play more female GWs because I don't care for the romances, frequently play the canon party, and want to nip the lame Jah romance in the bud.
But, to have them all in one place, I included my original smart-ass epilogues with the additional ones I created. Now, every character from BG1 and BG2 has an epilogue. I don't have the EE characters, though, because I play the original games and don't really know them.
So, just for funsies, which one is your favorite and why?
"Anomen continued to wait at the Copper Coronet for a party of adventurers willing to travel with him. Maybe it was the grating sound of his voice, or perhaps the way he leered at women, but he continued to remain alone. Eventually, he needed to find work to make ends meet. With Gorion's Ward having disbanded the slave traders and pit fights, Hendak had to find a new form of entertainment for the patrons. As such, he invented an all male review ladies night, and Anomen found work as a 'dancer'. He left the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart to join the less noble order of the pole. He also renounced his faith to Helm and instead allied himself with Waukeen because if you wanna see some groin, you gotta have some coin."
"Despite Gorion's Ward clearing the trolls from her keep, Nalia was not able to reclaim her lands and instead lost her estate to Lord Roenall. The lord offered to let her retain residence in her family's ancestral home, but only in exchange for her hand in marriage. Nalia found the proposition to be repugnant. Instead, she salvaged whatever wealth she could from her family's keep and moved to Athkatla to start a new life. She no longer helped the less fortunate, as she was now among their numbers and had her own problems. Nalia's lack of any practical skills combined with her sense of entitlement sent her into a life of failure followed by drinking and debauchery. She now spends more time back at the Copper Coronet than anywhere else. It is hard to say where she squanders her wealth more, the alcohol, or on the dancers during Ladies Night."
"After the incident with the Planar Sphere, Valygar was finally free of his past, could retire to his cabin, and pursue his true passion: writing. Ironically, the only inspiration he found ended up stemming from his family's checkered past. Valygar's only works that even had middling success were 'Tuesdays with Lavok' and 'Dude, Where's My Planar Sphere', with the latter being made into a production at the Five Flagoons Theater."
"Haer'Dalis continued to work as a performer at the Five Flagoons Theater. Unfortunately, it struggled due to poor management. It might have turned out better if an outside agent with fresh ideas had stepped in, but Gorion's Ward had better things to do than be a bard. While the work was generally steady, the returns were not great and the material was a little low-brow for Haer'Dalis' liking. The tiefling realized he reached rock bottom when he was cast as the lead in a play about a buffoon who apparently lost a plane-shifting apparatus the size of a small castle and had to find it before his parents returned from Neverwinter. After the opening night, he took his own life in his dressing room. His body was found the next morning with a note saying, 'Art is dead and I am art, so I shall join art in death.' Biff the Understudy stepped in for Haer'Dalis despite never having an opportunity to read the script. Nevertheless, the production was a resounding success and launched Biff's career to new heights."
“A heartbroken Garrick found work as a character actor at the Five Flagoons Theater, but eventually gained more success as a writer and director. He found it to be a mostly agreeable situation, aside from a tiefling primadonna who would constantly belittle his work and call it ”trite" and “drivel”. Fortunately, that situation worked itself out in time and Garrick found Biff to be much easier to direct. With the tiefling gone, his ideas had room to grow. He invented a new kind of love story, one where the protagonist doesn't always get the girl at the end but the journey to that ending would be quite amusing. He labeled this genre “the Comedy of Romance” and the works were mostly based on his own life. His plays were quite popular among the commoners, with his top selling shows being 'Sleepless in Saradush', 'Silverymoon Linings Playbook', and 'Crazy Rich Aasimars'. He eventually fully transitioned off the stage into the director's chair. By the peak of his fame, he was married to none other than Queen Ellesime."
“Aerie continued to work at the circus and WOULD NOT SHUT UP ABOUT HER DAMN WINGS. Even Quayle eventually grew sick of hearing about it. This put strain on their relationship. Things took a turn for the better when Ribald Barterman acquired a new curiosity for his shop. It was a magical ring which he sold to Quayle at a reduced rate out of sympathy. This ”treasure" was actually a cursed Ring of Deafness, which Quayle found to be anything but a curse and wore it for the rest of his days."
“Xzar and Montaron were both slain at the hands of the Athkatla Harpers, but this is actually where their story begins. Xzar, as he had done so many times before, had a backup plan of an arcane nature should death befall either he or the halfling. Their mortal essences were pulled to a pocket plane he created. There they could be channeled into restored bodies cloned at his estate. With this particular round of ritual, Xzar had incidentally made a slight error in the incantation and the two found themselves in a time suspended state in Xzar's pocket plane. It was only five minutes for the rest of the world, but it was fifty years for them. This turned out to be a pivot point in their relationship. Having only each other's company in this shadowy void, they were finally able to work out their feelings for each other. When they had returned to the prime material plane, they discovered their mutual animosity was replaced with love. Rather than pick up their life where they left off with the Zhentarim, they decided to pack it all in, moved to Bryn Shander, and start a bed and breakfast. Montaron rediscovered his halfling roots and love for the culinary arts while Xzar would perform seances to connect guests with their late loved ones. Scones and Bones became an overnight success and was consistently listed as a “must see” in Volo's travel guides. In their golden years, the couple co-wrote a memoir of their journey, ‘Brokeback Montaron’, which is sold in bookstores everywhere."
“After briefly crossing paths with Gorion's Ward, Mazzy Fentan continued her crusade as a de facto halfling paladin. She eventually found herself petitioning for membership at the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart in Athkatla after she had singlehandedly saved a village from an ancient dracolich. Despite the extent of her virtue and accomplishment, her petition was denied on the basis that halflings could not possibly be real paladins. This inspired her next crusade, one to break down vocational barriers for all demihuman races. Why couldn't halflings be paladins or dwarves be wizards? And why did gnomes always have to be illusionists? It simply made no goddamn sense. She began to get traction with her quest when she attended lectures by the wizards of the (sword) coast in Candlekeep. With their help, she ushered Faerun into a new edition era where there would be no vocational barriers for adventurers based on their race. Soon, the world began to see roguish halflings that also venerated Helm, while tending to the wilds as a druid. Half-orc bards also studied as wizards while manifesting natural arcane abilities as sorcerers. Tiefling paladins took their crusades to the wilderness and served as rangers, while sidelining as clergy to Mystra. The world was now a liberated place, free to not make any goddamn sense in a myriad of new ways. At one point, Lady Mazzy Fentan of Trademeet (now formally a paladin) crossed paths with a dwarven shadowdancebard and in that moment she regretted everything. Seriously, just take a moment and picture that. It would look fucking ridiculous.”
“Yeslick's clanhome was flooded once again. Despondent and without options, he took work at a smithy in Baldur's Gate but never stopped dreaming of finding both a clan and a home. He found a way to bring this dream to life after a courageous halfling paladin broke down the barriers for, among other things, dwarves to be wizards. Yeslick had an idea. He studied magic diligently until he was able to cast two spells of great importance: Water Breathing and Permanence. He then searched the lands for other clanless dwarves who would be willing to try something new. With the new clan he formed, Yeslick permanently gave all his fellow clansman the ability to breath underwater. They then moved into the flooded Cloakwood Mines and built the first underwater dwarven stronghold. Using his arcane powers, Yeslick also developed the ability to speak with the marine life that shared this stronghold. And, with that, the clan Aquadwarf was born. At one point, Valygar visited and wrote a play based on Yeslick's story. However, he couldn't even get it to stage at the Five Flagoons Theater. The illustrious director Garrick was quoted as saying, “A hero that can breath underwater and talk to fish? Nobody would go for that!"
“Keldorn finally retired from the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart and looked forward to a much simpler life. He rekindled his marriage with Lady Maria and life seemed to improve. It was rather early on when the couple discovered that Maria had become pregnant again. It was also not long after that when Peony, the housekeeper, also became pregnant. Maria started to ask Keldorn about this, but Keldorn started to get defensive and asked, ”Hey, who's the Inquisitor here?" Then Keldorn started to do the math with her to track the conception of Maria's pregnancy. She certainly did not want him to get to the end of that equation, so she quickly changed the subject. She suggested getting a new maid, but Keldorn chastised her for abandoning someone in their time of need who had been like family for years. He forbade Peony's departure claiming that his god, Torm, would not stand for it. Maria then made a passive aggressive comment about Torm being the god of loyalty, but she was mostly just muttering under her breath to get the last word in. Eventually, both children were born and had probably the most awkward upbringing of anyone in Faerun."
“After Gorion's Ward helped Coran take down a wyvern, the rogue brought the beast's head back to the mayor of Beregost for the reward and accolades. He thought this put him in a position to be a hero of great renown and perhaps, just maybe, people would stop mocking him for his flashy attire and completely superfluous eye mask. They didn't. He only gained acceptance when he crossed paths with a ranger who seemed indifferent towards Coran's keen fashion sense. Coran traveled the Sword Coast with his ranger sidekick, righting the wrongs against the ‘little guy’ and taking the law into their own hands when needed. This partnership dissolved when he discovered that the ranger thought Coran was the sidekick. As if! Coran tried to correct the ranger, whose argument was, 'Really, man, if that outfit doesn't scream sidekick then I'm Elminster's twin brother.' The ranger was not related to Elminster and shared no resemblance.
“Kivan never was able to get his revenge on Tazok. Unbeknownst to him, that honor was taken by Gorion's Ward. His thirst for vengeance continued to eat away at him until he found himself in a bat infested cave in the wilderness. It was then he snapped. He turned the cave into his secret hideaway, put together a disguise and started wandering the sword coast looking for evil-doers to punish. He would leave his calling card wherever he saved the day, a token of a bat with longer ears like an elf. And bats already had rather long ears so these bat ears were almost comically obtrusive. Nevertheless, his deeds were generally appreciated and the people stared calling him Bat-elf. For a short spell, another elf tagged along with him and tried to help, but he was so flamboyantly dressed that one could pick his sidekick out of the shadows blindfolded. Kivan eventually had to send him on his way. Unfortunately, his vigilante crusade abruptly ended after receiving a cease and decist order from DC Comics. Kivan could fight both monster and marauder all day, but his 14 Constitution wouldn't hold up against a lawsuit for trademark infringement.”
“Skie was deeply affected by both the death of her brother and the assassination of her father. And yes, her father was actually murdered and didn't lol-jk back to life in some crappy DLC. In any event, through these traumas, she came to realize the puerility of what she thought was her brilliant criminal masterminding. Instead, she decided to settle down and live a more responsible life as an upstanding citizen of Baldur's Gate. She took the reins of her father's estate after his death and rose to prominence as one of the Grand Dukes of the city. She maintained her relationship with Eldoth for quite some time, inexplicably, as he refused to get a job because he didn't want to take attention from his band which he swore was going to make it. However, the bard spent most of the day either lounging at Skie’s estate or gambling away his allowance with games of three-dragon-ante at the Helm and Cloak. Eventually, inspired by the book “Men Are From Menzoberranzan, Women Are From Immilmar," she decided to call it quits with Eldoth and sent him packing. Shortly thereafter, she met a man who was nothing like Eldoth and they settled down together to start a family."
“Eldoth's dreams of being a world-famous musician fronting the greatest band in Faerun never reached fruition. This was partly because he didn't actually have a band and partly because he didn't have the talent to write music. Instead, he just had a lute he purchased at Lucky Aello's Discount Store that only had one A-string and was missing the E-string. Also, Eldoth could only play power chords and he couldn't really sing and play at the same time. Most of the time he would just strum a chord or two and then talk about what the song would do next, often describing a solo and half playing it on an ”air lute" (while he was still holding an actual lute, mind you) to give people the idea as to how the song would sound when it was finally written. Yeah, he was one of those guys. After Skie kicked him to the curb, he bounced between various barmaids who clearly had low self-esteem, but not low enough to keep him around for long. Eventually, he got one of them pregnant and was forced into a shotgun wedding by the barmaid's father. He now works in the kitchen at the same inn as his barmaid wife. She helps the customers up front and he cooks eggs in the back. Eldoth continues to tell himself that this experience will just provide inspiration for his music and that someday he was going to get the band back together."
“After being rescued by Gorion's Ward, Xan made his way to Baldur's Gate to regroup. He spent an inordinate amount of time beating himself up over his failures and trying to muster the gumption to continue his quest to unravel the political turmoil of the region. However, it took him months to get to this point, and by that time, Gorion's Ward already sorted out the problems in the region. Discovering this, he deemed himself a failure yet again and sunk into a deeper depression. He pulled himself out of it when he met a woman who lost most of her family to violent deaths during the iron crisis, yet she still kept herself together and became a local success in a few short years. Xan immediately fell in love with the recently single Skie Silvershield and began to court her. They eventually married and started a family. At Xan's insistence, and inspired by his wife's name, their two daughters were named Sunshine and Rainbow. Xan was a staunch supporter of his wife's career and stayed home to raise the kids. When they were older and needed less attending, he followed a new dream and became a motivational speaker.”
“Korgan had his revenge against his backstabbing crew and employer, but he felt...empty. It was done, but he felt no satisfaction. Disgruntled and disappointed, he decided to lose himself in his cups at the Copper Coronet. Even this did nothing to alleviate his malaise. One night, having passed out drunk in a peasant room at the Copper Coronet, he dreamt of that final fight but something was different. In the background of the battle, there was a glow coming from the door of a shack and he heard the whispering of a language that sounded like it was from Kara-Tur. When he woke the next morning, Korgan returned to the rooftop and found the shack from his dream. He knocked and was greeted by a priest of Illmater. Korgan told the priest of his dream and he was led into the backroom where he found a man from Kara-Tur infirm and huddled over a cup of tea. The priest explained that he had just reincarnated this man of the faith using a heart delivered by a passing adventurer. Korgan took this as a sign, converted to the faith, and the two paired up to help those in suffering as a result of the schemes of others. The tales of Korgan and Yoshimo were not only told in many of a tavern by the bards, but also collected in graphic serials that were popular among the children of Athkatla.”
“Ajantis' death sent him into an afterlife at Everwatch, the realm of Helm. For his honor and diligence, the devout knight was granted an audience with his patron. Ajantis then told Helm what utter bullshit the god was. I mean, c'mon, he's the god of protection, the Vigilant One, and he couldn't protect a group of knights from a dragon's cheap illusion spell that a mage even tried to dispel with True Sight? It was like Helm wasn't even trying. Helm was stunned by the confrontation but also had no valid defense. Ajantis called Helm to a trial that was mediated by Tyr. After careful deliberation, Tyr determined that Helm was sleeping on the job and the judgment was to demote him to a lesser deity. Now, Helm was the patron of guards, but not actual guards that ever see action, just the ceremonial ones whose weapons and armor are super shiny and probably not even real. Ajantis was then granted Helm's old portfolio and became a god that truly protected his followers.”
“Viconia left Athkatla's government district perplexed. She was rescued from burning at the stake by Gorion's Ward and then immediately dismissed. She found this to be unusual behavior for a male. She was accustomed to men either trying to bed her or kill her, but this casual indifference was completely new. Viconia came to be obsessed with Gorion's Ward from a distance. She spiraled into a fantasy where the two of them had a future together. It was pretty bad. There were some extremely embarrassing vision boards involved and that wasn't even the worst of it. When her mania reached critical mass, her obsession actually collapsed and she had an epiphany. She came to realize that she did not need this man, or any for that matter. She started on a journey of self discovery and took a moral inventory of her past relationships. She wrote about it in the book, “Men Are From Menzoberranzan, Women Are From Immilmar”. She then used the revenue from the book sales to open Athkatla's first feminist bookstore. In Her Words became a mecca for women, particularly those who felt trapped in bad relationships. The community that emerged here created the group, Friends of Galia, which strove to free women from abusive relationships. Eventually, the bookstore expanded to include an apartment block above that became a shelter for such women. Occasionally, the partners of these victims would come around to In Her Words in an attempt to drag their partners back home. You can probably guess how a confrontation between a drunken 0-level commoner and a Drow priestess of Shar ends."
“Faldorn was defeated by Jaheira in Trademeet and lost her title of Arch-Druid. In truth, she was relieved to be relieved of the position. Years of pushing forward the Shadow Druid agenda led Faldorn to realize that she had lost touch with the real Faldorn along the way. After some soul-searching, she reinvented herself as a lifestyle guru and developed an entire line of organic health and beauty products under the name, She-Wolf. Both her products and seminars were all the rage in Athkatla, specifically among noblewomen who clearly had too much free time. Faldorn eventually gave up her residence in natural environs for a lavish estate in Athkatla's government district. Her following soon pressured her to petition to join the Council of Six after the fall of the Cowled Wizards left the position open (aside from a short-term replacement). Her petition was a success and she soon found herself on the Council of Six. Under her leadership, she created created the FDAA, the Food and Drink Association of Athkatla. Now, instead of draconian rules governing magic in the city, equally restrictive rules and standards were applied to the food and drink that the people consumed.”
“Barely surviving being gravely wounded by Irenicus, Tiax left Spellhold for Athkatla where he intended to do what he did best: rule. Learning from his past campaign mistakes in Baldur's Gate, he changed his slogan from ”Tiax Rules!" to “Make Athkatla Great Again”. Of course, what he thought would make Athkatla great was putting himself in charge as a despotic leader. But, he toned down that aspect of his platform and instead focused on the history of scheming and backroom dealing of the Cowled Wizards (as if he was any less evil or scheming) and promised the people he would be different than all the other corrupt politicians. Miraculously, despite his obviously apparent character flaws, he succeeded in replacing the Cowled Wizards' representative on the Council of Six. He decided to take their stance on restrictive magic to the next level and banned magic entirely. Since he didn't study the arcane himself, it was no skin of his nose. This move undermined his support base leaving him with only the most backwards and ignorant followers. He was ultimately removed from his position when he insisted the city build a wall around the planar sphere and was expecting that the city's wizards would be the ones to pay for it. After his removal, his few remaining extreme supporters organized an invasion of the main government building under the guise of freedom of assembly. All nine of these “rebels” were rounded up, tried, and sent to prison. Tiax was convicted of treason and reincarnated in Spellhold, which was now just a common prison. After his eventual release, he was prohibited from seeking any position of power in Amn."
"Edwin Odesseiron continued to lay low with the Shadow Thieves for a while. The Cowled Wizards suffered a crippling blow as a side effect of the conflict between Gorion's Ward and Irenicus. Edwin decided to step in and finish the job. His thought was that he could wipe out the Cowled Wizard remnants and then take credit for their defeat, thereby gaining him more clout among the Red Wizards of Thay. After many conspicuous mage battles in the streets of Athkatla, he succeeded. However, the people who noticed his efforts the most were actually the people of Athkatla. They were tired of living under the Cowled Wizards' iron fist and Edwin was lauded as a liberator and hero. He even had a statue in his image raised in Waukeen's Promenade. Edwin was initially nonplussed over people finally giving him the credit he always felt he so rightfully deserved. But, he quickly came to accept their praise and bought in to being a champion for the people. Edwin continued his agenda of liberation when a clearly insane gnome who found his way on the Council of Six tried to ban magic entirely in the city. Edwin and his followers were primarily responsible for having the madman removed from his seat.
“Shar-Teel, Safana, Branwen, and Alora all happened to cross paths with each other at Elfsong one evening. Shar-Teel was looking to fight a man, Safana was looking to shag a man, Branwen was recently petrified by a man, and Alora was just excited to be somewhere new. The four got to talking with each other and, despite having wildly different personalities, seemed to hit it off. Shar-Teel was sarcastic and aggressive, Safana was self-absorbed and man-hungry, Alora was kind and sweet, and Branwen was the matriarch of the group. You wouldn't think this lot would get along, but they actually did, and their differences merely become the fuel for innocuous hi-jinks week after week.”
"With Gorion's Ward's help, Cernd was able to rescue his child that he then abandoned again at the druid grove near Trademeet. He promised that he would return to raise the child, he just needed to run to the general shop in Trademeet for some pipeweed. He never returned, but that was pretty obvious since he didn’t even smoke. Cernd continued to wander Faerun. It came to light in Cormyr that Cernd had actually married, and had children, with numerous women in Cormyr, Amn, the Sword Coast, Tethyr, Calimshan, Turmish, Halruaa, Icewind Dale, Chondath, Sembia, Impiltur, the Silver Marches, and even the Troll Hills (don't ask). Furthermore, it was discovered that Cernd was not actually a druid, just a werewolf that had a Ring of Goodberries. The druid con was so that he could have a reason to abandon his wives and children and move on to a new situation. You would be surprised at how many women could fall for a guy that can conjure an impromptu picnic in the park. Unfortunately for Cernd, Cormyr was not the kind of place to run afoul of the legal system. For the crime of bigamy, he was sentenced to life in prison. He never set foot near a druid grove again, but he was allowed to participate in a work-release program tending to the gardens of nobles.
“Kagain returned to his shop and grew even more bitter, but not over what the death of Entar Silvershield's son had done to his reputation and business. Instead, he resented that even the Enhanced Edition of the game didn't give him a remotely decent companion quest. By Moradin's hammer, Cernd even had a pretty involved companion quest and the story there both starts and ends with a deadbeat dad! Also, Kagain can regenerate! Korgan can't even do that. And another thing! He was sick of people confusing the two of them as if all dwarves look alike or something. Ok, granted, they're both old dwarves with greying beards, but Korgan's beard is tied while Kagain's beard is brushed out. Of course, none of this made sense to anyone, even to Kagain who never actually crossed paths with Cernd or Korgan. However, the dwarf had nothing to do with his time except stand in his shop, isolated and alone, until he was done in by insanity and plantar fasciitis.”
“The death of Khalid shook Jaheira to the core. She convinced herself that she could never love again, certainly not so soon after his death nor with anyone that would be a child in her eyes. That would be absurd and rather tacky. After her escape from Irenicus' prison and deposing Faldorn from the druid grove, she took over as Arch-Druid. Being a Harper just wouldn't be the same without Khalid. However, the grove would allow her to explore a new, but comfortingly familiar, phase of life. She had barely been installed as the Arch-Druid when Cernd dropped off his child and disappeared again. He did not even stay long enough to tell Jaheira the child's name. Knowing he would likely not return, she named the child Khalid after her lost love. Realizing there were other children our there without families to care for them, Jahaeira would send her subordinates to wander nearby lands and bring them to the grove for a better life. Perhaps not surprisingly, many of these children happened to be Cernd's. She eventually renamed the grove to Kinder Garden in honor of the grove's new purpose of giving these children a kinder upbringing. Jaheira's headstrong personality served her well with these lost children, who all loved her as they would any mother. The Kinder Garden became the most thriving druid grove in all of Faerun. Jaheira eventually died in 1547 DR, with hundreds of children haven been rescued in her lifetime, and a memorial was erected in her honor at the grove. The inscription read, 'Nature's Servant Awaits.'"
“After being freed from Irenicus' dungeon, Minsc put his boots on the ground at the Copper Coronet. Being the simple man that he was, he found himself unwittingly recruited into fighting in the gladiator pits (before Gorion's Ward was able to free the slaves). Yet again, Minsc took a blow to the head. But this time, its effects were something completely new. No longer was he the slow-witted evil-slaying ranger, armed to the teeth and packing a hamster. Instead, his intelligence and wisdom started to blossom and he explored, through dissertation, the impact of modern civilization on the overall ecosystem of Faerun. Indeed, before Minsc started his work, the people of Faerun didn't even have the concept of an ”ecosystem". He left Athkatla to pursue a residency at Jaheira's grove where he could study and work in peace. He published works like, “The Intersection of Geopolitics and Biodiversity: Living More but Dying Sooner”, “The Essential Symbiosis Between the Savage and Civilization”, and “Moral Urbanization: Seeking a More Comprehensive Prosperity”. Minsc continued his studies and writing and ultimately produced enough groundbreaking works to have his own annex in Candlekeep. It was shortly after the dedication of this annex that Minsc disappeared from Faerun, never to be seen again."
“Jan Jansen's fate was the most impressive of all as his endeavors shaped the very fabric of Faerun for centuries to come. His story truly serves as a moral lesson for everyone and we should heed its virtue quite seriously. Helping Lissa and Jaella planted a seed of regret in Lissa with regards to her marriage to Vaelag. Speaking of seeds, this reminds Jan of a time when he was helping his Uncle Scratchy with his turnip farm. However, Uncle Scratchy was hoodwinked and the seeds he received were actually purple carrot seeds. You can imagine Uncle Scratchy's surprise when they sprouted and he suddenly had a field of purple carrots. Well, as you probably know, you can't make turnip stew, or turnip casserole, or turnip pie with purple carrots. But it just so happened there was a mage tower nearby and the resident mage needed a vast number of carrots. Apparently, her plan was to animate them as a kind of vegetable army to combat a myconid infestation in cave system rather close to her tower. Of course, animated carrots are quite self-assured and were immune to myconoid's confusion spores. Anyway, Jan had a once-removed cousin, Bobil, that was lost in those caves when he was a young gnome. He had wandered so deep that he found himself in the den of a solitary xvart who was obsessed with a magic ring. Bobil happened to purloin that ring but it turned out to not be magic at all. However, it was still worth enough for Bobil to buy himself a nice cottage in Trademeet. He then started his own turnip farm and had better luck than Uncle Scratchy. Wait, what were we talking about, again?”
“Boo continued his mission to study the sentient life forms of Faerun and determine their potential impact on the metaverse. He preferred the continued company of Minsc due to the ranger's kindness and protectiveness. Boo found this to be quite valuable in his current miniaturized state. Even after Minsc's accident, where his intellect began to expand, Minsc never lost his good heart and inherent kindness and the two remained the best of friends. It was a number of years later that the term of Boo's mission was complete. A team of his fellow people arrived on a spelljammer to collect the giant miniaturized space hamster. Minsc (and Boo) were on a retreat in a remote part of the Neverwinter Wood when a vessel shaped like a giant acorn landed in a nearby clearing. A number of human-sized anthropomorphic hamster-like beings, who called themselves the Ysoki, emerged and met with Boo. One had a strange crystalline device which it used to restore Boo to his proper size. Minsc naturally remained composed while all this was happening. He and Boo talked often and he knew this day would be coming. Boo returned to the spelljammer with his brethren to debrief on the mission. The Ysoki wanted to bring a sample back to their homeworld for further learning and study. Boo offered Minsc for the task, as the exemplar human would fit in nicely with the Ysoki's advanced culture and society. Everyone was in agreement and made the offer to the ranger. Minsc felt like he had made every contribution he could to the people of Faerun, so he accepted and boarded the ship. Boo, excited to finally be on a spelljammer again, took the helm and plotted a course for his homeworld. At his side sat his friend and faithful companion, Minsc.”

So I pretty much have the BIGGEST panty fetish & have ever since I was a kid,in the 5th grade I stole a few pairs from my boy’s mom dresser literally right in front of him while we were sitting watching tv (i remember like it was yesterday) she always reminded me of Jennifer Lopez super smoking hot. Fast fwd to now I’m dating a girl and at the moment,it’s just her and her(super fine) mom living together (she’s Latina about late 40s & smoking hot,petite) and when the mom is at work sometimes my girl will leave me alone at the house while she also goes to work & MAN!! when i tell you i feel like a kid at the candy store. I go in her mom’s room into her drawers and i get a rush I simply cannot put into words,so many sexy panties in all varieties. Lace,cotton,satin you name it she has it. Thongs,gstrings boy shorts. It turns me on so much like nothing else. I get her panties take all my clothes off and just lay in her bad completely nude and just rub her panties all over my body & stroke trying EXTREMELY hard not to buss in her bed even tho it’s Been plenty times I just wanted to say F it & do it but I know it would be so much cm everywhere that it would be no way in hell for me to clean it, plus her sheets are white. I love her mom so much I wish I could be with her.

My 10 year old was just caught pilfering the bulk candy bins at a grocery store. Her little brother saw her stuffing candy into her leggings. She has attempted to steal and been caught once about 2 years ago. I suspect she's done it and not been caught since. I tried to get her to tell the clerk but she refused so I told them myself. I think the embarrassment was effective, but I'm not sure what else to do. We have decided to lock out her access to all electronics for the week since she likes to watch Disney shows on her laptop in her room. Is this an appropriate consequence? How do we deter further theft?

TLDR at the end.
I've been at 5B for about 5 years, and I cannot stand it anymore.
I hate the customers that don't know how to put shit back where they found it 2 inches away (I've literally watched someone grab a phone case off a peg, look at it, look around for somewhere to put it, and then drop it on the floor), can't fold a t-shirt to save their life, don't watch their screaming children running around messing shit up.
I hate closing all the time, because there's no way to get the entire store recovered, floor swept, spot mopped, all go-backs done, back up my cashier, AND stay within payroll (which I get bitched at if the store isn't recovered 100%, or if I go over on payroll, so it's lose/lose).
I hate closing every fucking Sunday (Jan/Feb, 2 out of 4 Sundays; March, 3 out of 4, only cause we were closed Easter; and all 4 Sundays in April) because I only get 5 hours, and in that time I have to assist my cashier cause Sundays are busy AF, recover the entire store 100%, sweep the entire floor- under fixtures, everywhere, mop the entire floor (and my SM requires pictures of the fresh mopped floor, which adds so much extra time to the process), do the deposit (minimum 30-45 minutes), clear out every single go-back, clean the whole cash wrap + ACOs, all in 5 hours- PLUS take my break. No fucking way.
I hate that my SM never closes- literally. It's an issue all of us on her manager team bitch about with each other. She never closes, and almost never works on a Sunday, and if she does come in on a Sunday, she's only there for a few hours to check up on certain things & then she's gone. She also doesn't have her MM close, and the PTSL can't close by themself on the weekends, so that puts 7 days of closing the store on the shoulders of 2 managers (CEM & FTSL) instead of all 5 managers. Yet she wants to bitch & moan when this wasn't done right, or that wasn't done 100%. Her expectations are absolutely unrealistic, because she doesn't ever fucking close so she doesn't get it. We update her on sales, and if we aren't making sales, she just assumes "Oh y'all should be able to get out on time tonight, then". Like, NO. Sales numbers do not accurately reflect foot traffic in the store. If a family with 6 kids comes in & trash the store looking at everything, and end up only buying like a piece of candy each, that's a messy ass store for a maybe $15 sale. It's such bullshit that she never fucking closes.
And don't even get me started on this BS ACO policy.
I hate this place and I'm so ready to leave. Does anybody here who's resigned recently have any suggestions as to good jobs to apply for to get tf out of here?
TL;DR- I fucking hate this place and I'm ready to leave. Anyone who's recently left, any good suggestions on jobs to apply for so I can GTFOH?

During my first year at university I had to share a kitchen with a particularly toxic individual who took to storing his steroids, both vials and syringes in the shared fridge. I may have taken down the name of the drug in question and done a bit of little research with regards to the compound in question. Turned out to be a veterinary anabolic marketed for horses. The twat in question would not listen to reason and thought it hilarious to mock me for being a survivor. I was already involved in a court case with the local police due to being a witness on an introduction weekend where a serious assault occurred, so when student services refused to do anything about it, I may have shared some photos with my court liaison officer, and lacrosse boy got a nice visit two days later with student services getting a strong bollocking as well. The uni in question is known by the slogan “It’s the ____ difference”

We just returned from a trip last week, and I've often found this subreddit to be a good cure for the post-vacation blues. I'm sitting here at work, wanting to re-live the trip, and other folks here don't seem to mind reading long winded recaps. So it's a win win?
We decided to do early May as it seems to be one of the quietest times of year - and we were right. We were there from the 7th-10th and finished every day in Daigon Alley practically alone. I got some great shots of the park without another person in sight. It was really special. It picked up a bit towards the end of the week, but Tuesday and Wednesday almost every ride was under 20 minutes (except Hagrid and Veloci), and we had a blast.
We have a toddler now which changes the dynamics quite a bit, as I usually don't even get on a ride until his nap, but we still had fun as he finally hit 36". This made up for One Fish, Two Fish and ET (two of the only rides that kids under 36" can ride) being closed. He managed to do Sky High Trolley Train, Cat in the Hat and Hippogriff on this trip and loved them all. Trolley Train and Cat in the Hat I had never ridden before either, and enjoyed both of them a lot. He could have done Kong, but he said it was "a little too spooky" and wouldn't try. I haven't seen it since they dropped the 3-D, and never made it on it.
I managed to hit every ride I wanted to hit, with the exception of Popeye - the only ride in the park I've still never been on, now that I checked Cat in the Hat and Trolley Train off the list. Despite it being around 100 degrees while we were there, I just couldn't find a window where I wanted to walk around THAT wet. Hopefully I see a window next time and take it. The big hero of this trip for me was Jurassic Park River Adventure. I rode it 3 times and really just love that ride. I think the reveal of the T-Rex is just one of the coolest moments in the whole park, and I couldn't get enough this trip. It helps that the single rider line IS the express line, so I was able to get on fast every time. Everything else was as good as it always is (Forbidden Journey's Dragon didn't spit and smoke though) and I managed to ride Hagrid's for the first time in a few years. I forgot just HOW good that ride is. What a blast. Cat in the Hat was way more fun that I ever would have guessed, and has the best A/C in the park.
We had some great food - our first time trying Circus McGurkis and jeeeez these new restaurants are killing it. I like it better than Minions. I had the Roast Beast Sandwich, which was almost too much food for a roller coaster day. It was delicious. We also had the big top burger, and got the fun "Ringleader Rush" Icee drink. They were all great. The atmosphere rules and the staff couldn't have been nicer. Just all around a great meal. I grabbed the Butterbeer Ice Lolly too, and that should be a year round offering for sure. Incredible. Had kind of a salted caramel taste to the outside candy shell. It was so good. And of course...the beer. Universal's exclusive brews are just too darn good. Isla Nublar IPA is incredible, and Wizard's Brew still holds a spot as my all-time favorite. I skipped Duff this year, as the price is too hard to swallow, but made sure to have one of every Wizarding World brew and they're all great. The bartender at Hog's Head actually recognized me from an earlier vacation months ago and it was incredibly cool to feel like a "regular" at such a special bar.
Somehow I managed to never step foot in a shop, which is a bummer in hindsight. No souvenirs to remember this trip - but sometimes thats just the way it goes. I was too busy riding everything when I could and we just never found the time to slow down and walk through the shops. I'm hoping the IoA 25th anniversary gear sticks around long enough for me to grab that pin when we're back around HHN.
We stayed at Dockside for the first time in a few years and it's honestly in competition for my favorite hotel on property. We got a suite - and it's incredible. Blows Cabana Bay's suite out of the water honestly. A BEDROOM for the little guy to sleep in! A huge dining room picnic table! A nice kitchen! And lower cost! The pool area and bar are fine, and Pier 8 Market is arguably better than Bayliner Diner (I can't believe I'd say that!). Cabana has a better atmosphere, and I love being able to walk to the park - but I honestly think Dockside has it beat almost everywhere else, especially for the price. More food variety, bigger and better family suites and cheaper. It's going to be a REAL tough call going forward, because nothing beats a drink while looking at the Volcano in the evening, and I LOVE Cabana Bay's Universal store (Dockside's is tiny) - but for the price and room, Dockside blew me away. And food! That Cheeseburger pizza!
I'll stop now, but I could go on forever. It was really a great trip! As always I feel like there was so much more I wanted to do, but look back when I type stuff like this and realize how absolutely jam packed it really was.

Genocide looked to the sky. He thought of his mentor. The one who had saved him. He remembered his childhood. How powerless he was. He remembered the anger. He never wanted to hurt anybody. He thought of all the times he showed compassion. How much they hurt him for it. He saw the world before him, a graveyard. Humans. People that were supposed to be made in the image of some divine creator. They were but maggots feasting upon his remains. They ate away at his very being until nothing human remained. His thoughts were no longer his own. He had no joys in life that mattered. He hated humanity more than he could love anything about himself. He remember his first killing spree. Being gunned down by police. Left for dead. He remembered a hooded figure moving towards him. Getting closer the more he neared his death. He saw its pale face. Its impossibly black eyes. It was a man. This figure in question appeared to be of Japanese nationality with long, straight, loose hair. It emanated extreme malice. It offered him a choice. A purpose. Power. He thought the figure a reaper but it identified itself as Amakusa Masataka. Masataka guided him on how to kill and gave him specific locations to kill people in. In a sense, he became a hitman for quotas of people. He inquired what Masataka was. The presence of evil, his ability to appear and disappear at will, how he could control what people could see him and what people couldn't. While vague, years of killing for this being offered some insight. Amakusa Masataka belonged to a group of people not of this world. His people had been corrupted by a dark force long ago and had aligned themselves with the warlord who had subjugated their version of Japan. Their dark high priest assisted the warlord along with two others. These four rulers in turn served a larger order. The four were tasked with bringing about the end of the current world as an act of retribution for some fallen deity. Masataka's people acted as covert operatives for this empire. They were feared across the land and were collectively referred to as "Shinigami". An agent of the coming apocalypse, a servant of evil possessed by the will of those gods of death, Genocide would walk the earth.
Genocide stepped toward the station. A police cruiser rammed into him. He pulled out a knife and stabbed the hood of the car. The inhuman force of the knife created sparks which burst the engine into flames. The car crashed into a streetlight and exploded. A second cruiser neared the scene. No way a man could have done this. Yet still, out of the fires Genocide strode forth. It set upon the second vehicle, shooting out it's tires while jumping 9 feet into the air. The car tries to reverse but crashes into a wall. Genocide lands on the hood and kicks through the front window. Glass shatters under its boot, blinding the two officers inside. Genocide shoots one of the officers with a shotgun, killing him. The second officer in the passenger seat readies his pistol and takes aim. Only two shots fired, both directed at Genocide's head. It casually cocks its neck to avoid them. Then it grabs the officer's arm, breaking it. Genocide uses its free hand to grab the officer's head and bangs it into the dashboard no less than 5 times. The skull is shattered on the final impact. Genocide jumps off the car and continues on his mission.
Detective Evans speaks through a megaphone," This is your first and final warning. Stand down or we will use any and all means at our disposal to put you down." Genocide dropped its shotgun and raised its hands. A group of five SWAT team members rushed out the station, surrounding Genocide with riot shields. An officer accompanies them, edging behind the figure to apply handcuffs. Suddenly, Genocide springs to life , grabbing the officer behind him. He flips the officer over his head, slamming him into the pavement at his feet. Then Genocide stomps his head causing it to burst. Genocide drops a flash bomb from his coat sleeve, blinding the SWAT team as he draws his knife. He drives it into one SWAT member, the knife puncturing the shield and piercing his chest. Genocide kicks the corpse away withdrawing his knife. He goes to another, this time using the end of his boot toe in a rising kick to disarm their shield. He grabs them by the throat and drives the knife slowly into their eye socket. Another is tackled to the ground and beaten to death despite still being under the shield. Another is picked up and thrown into the fires still burning from the first auto incident. In no time, Genocide stood before an indistinguishable mass of gore, blood streaking across his black leather outfit. He laughed" So this is all you can give me. I'm not entertained." Officers took aim from the station windows, and snipers did so from other rooftops. Genocide laughed maniacally as he was rained down upon from all sides by a hailstorm of bullets. His body convulsed, but he did not fall. Moments more and he was on his knees. Still though, their efforts were futile. Gracia looked out and saw a black mist coalescing around the man in black. His blood. Blood erupted from his body only to transform into this dark mist that reentered his wounds. Genocide screamed. No. It was just an elevated pitch in his laughter. Optimism failed everyone yet again. Gracia saw Genocide holding something in his right hand. She could only make out a beeping red light. Genocide pushed the button triggering the carefully concealed explosives he laid in preparation for this event. C4 explosives went off in all the places he saw fit. The sniping posts he couldn't reach. The assault of lead lightened. Then Genocide drew an RPG from...somewhere. He collected himself and fired at the station's entrance. The explosion shook the station. From inside, the lights began to flicker. Communications were down on all fronts. Had he modified the rocket with some type of EMP? Not good. Amisdst the confusion Genocide entered using smoke bombs to mask his presence. Moving like a shadow, he killed everyone in the lobby silently with his knife. He made his way to the holding cells. Still they chanted. Still they praised. Still they raved for the arrival of genocide. Genocide shot the lock opening the cell. Jim Jimenez walked out and bowed before his master. Genocide smiled. He couldn't have imagined how proficient he had gotten with possession. Well, not quite possession. He had known of the Shinigami's ability to share their thoughts and emotions with humans. Shinigami like his mentor were ancient. They had so many years of memories, such strong a hatred for life that they overwhelmed the personality of the victim. The victim sees themselves as one of them. Shinigami can't force the will of the victim, so they find those who are already similar to them in some way. Genocide found the collective universal distrust of police to be a prime sentiment to capitalize on. He armed the inmates, infecting them with samples of his own dark essence.One particular inmate caught Genocide's eye. He knew the man's work. An arsonist. The one whom he recalls was responsible for blowing up his first car way back in high school. Rather than a standard firearm, Genocide gave the man a random assortment of grenades containing a special surprise. Genocide showed them visions of anarchy, of sending a message to a society that used and disregarded them. While this was also true of how he felt, years of living in darkness had changed him. He needed no purpose. No end goal. No justification. He just wanted to watch the world burn.
Genocide's small army broke off to engage several different wings of the station. Genocide went to the security room. He found Wayne, his informant, playing some FPS on one of the monitors. Wayne took of his headphones and asked," You kill everyone yet?" Genocide responded," No. You should get going before that happens. Your life becomes fair game if I run out of pigs to cook." Wayne clapped his hands, "Aight, GC my man, say less." He packed his things and left. Genocide drew a twin pair of handguns and laid waste to the station. He followed a group that took cover in the men's restroom. Kicking open multiple stalls he was surprised to find...nothing. Where had they gone? He turned around and saw his mentor, Masataka, smiling at him. It looked like him. Long, dark hair, black clothing, and soulless, empty eyes. But it wasn't. It was Genocide's own reflection in the mirror. Genocide smiled. He didn't notice the changes at first. They must have happened gradually. Subconsciously. From the final stall, an officer sprung into action, rushing Genocide, hitting him point blank with a shockgun round. Genocide felt the tingling sensation electrifying his body and grew numb. In spite of the pain, he took a single step. Then, another. He came within striking range of the officer and snatched the shockgun. Two more officers erupted from another stall, battering him with baton strikes. Genocide felt nothing. He clutched the shockgun in his hand like a bat and went to work pulverizing his attackers. An officer kicked in the bathroom door, a woman holding a pistol. She fired multiple times to no effect. Genocide stood covered in blood. He even let her reload. Twice. He wanted to see her despair. Her hopelessness. He walked towards her, shrugging off bullets as they pierced his body. His wounds healed nigh instantly due to the dark essence he had been imbued with. He held her face with both hands, lifting her body off the ground. As she screamed, he used her head to shatter the restroom mirror, running down the full length of it while smashing her into it at several points. He dropped the remains of what he held, washed his hands with soap, dried them, then exited the restroom.
The inmates that rallied for the cause of genocide attacked the station. Fortunately, they were nowhere near Genocide in terms of power and only carried one type of firearm each. They shared his healing ability but could be killed quite easily. Gracia encountered a sniper on the end or a west wing hallway. Other officers waited behind corners unable to get close. Gracia noticed the faulty lighting. In this hallway, the lights flickered in intervals of 3 seconds. Finding a pattern and timing her movements, she rushed the sniper at the exact moment the lights went out. Running the length of the hall, Gracia zigzagged, dodging the sniper inmate's bullets. She jumped on a wall, ran 3 feet on it, then kicked off it, pouncing on the assailant. She fired five shots into him, making sure to hit the brain and the heart. Two severe injuries that were impossible for Shinigami essence to heal simultaneously. Elsewhere, Evans took on another escaped inmate. A vehicular arsonist named Carson. Carson had a bag filled with an assortment of different grenades and was happily giving them out like candy on Halloween. "A flash bang here, a bit of tear gas there. Oh. Wait! Was that an ice grenade? Did the explosion freeze your leg to the floor? Whoops. Maybe a fire grenade will melt that for you. Hold on let me get one fore you," Carson rambled gleefully. Evans looked at the carnage before him. Officers burning. Officers partially frozen in blocks of ice. He took a breath and aimed his wristgun. He steadied his right forearm. Carson readied to throw a random grenade. Evans shot it the moment it left Carson's hand. The grenade exploded directly in front of Carson. Both Evans and Carson looked at each other in shock. Confetti. A party grenade? Carson quickly fumbled for another but was tackled and restrained by several officers. Meanwhile in the South wing, Lary had some colleagues set a trap for another shotgun toting inmate. He had them bait the inmate and flee. Giving chase he turned a corner and ran straight into Lary's fist. The inmate recovered and motioned to shoot Lary. "Let's tango. " Lary gave the code word. Nearby officers activated a device. A signal jammer of sorts. The inmate shoved the barrel of his gun into Lary's gut and pulled the trigger. Nothing. The special signal jammer in question was designed for firearms. It was a last resort as it left officers just as defenseless. Lary was having fun. He boxed the inmate in hand to hand combat. Despite the inmate's enhanced strength, Lary's technique pulled through. Lary ducked under one of the inmate's wide punches and did some type of rising uppercut where he jumped off the ground while spinning. One of the other officers whispered" The rising dragon." Lary smiled giving a thumbs up" Yeah, it was a rising dragon uppercut. Saw it in one O my kid's vidya games. Thought I'd try it out while I'm jacked on adrenaline".
Jim Jimenez looked long and hard at himself in the mirror. He was in the women's restroom. Some brainless woman had broken the men's restroom mirror with her face. For the first time in a long while Jim could think clearly. He was becoming sane. At the least he was no longer a raving lunatic. The life essence of the dark gods had healed the wounds to both his body and his mind. He saw his face, his scraggly dirty beard. He found a razor and shaved. He trimmed his beard somewhat. He liked it. He washed his hair. It fell down his face like silk, no longer greasy. His bloodshot eyes once burning with crazed intensity had cooled. He blinked. Just for a second, he saw the man known as Genocide. The man that attacked him. The one that killed him and gave him new life. The drug dealers. The police. They were all the same in his eyes now. They were all to blame for the world being what it is. Jim wanted to hate them. He wanted to take revenge, but he felt nothing. It didn't matter. He knew he was wronged, could logically justify acting against them, but he just didn't care anymore. About anything. He was finally free. Sensing his presence was no longer needed here, Jim vanished into the night. He needed to find someone who had had the answers he needed. Himself. Who had he been? Who was he now? Who could he become? Where was he going? So many questions to ponder indefinitely. So much time left in the rest of his life.
Genocide ran down the station's halls raining hailstorms of bullets upon its occupants. He had a handgun in each hand as well as a wristgun on each wrist. This effectively gave him 4 separate firearms that he could use simultaneously. Lary regrouped with Gracia, Evans, and a handful of others. They radioed all surviving officers near Genocide to flee to the roof. This plan had been set in motion days before the assault and had been kept hidden from most of the force. The plan involved scheduling flights for several helicopters to arrive at some point after Genocide arrived. There would be no way for him to prepare for them and pre-scheduling their arrival ensured they arrived regardless of if they were called or not. Lary and the others set about preparing the second jamming device. Genocide stood among a hallway of bodies. He saw one man clinging to life trying to crawl away. He decided on trying that other thing he saw his master do. He grabbed the dying man and pinned him to the wall. Slowly he drove a knife into his chest. As the man's life slipped away, something else entered his body. Genocide channeled a small amount of his essence into the vessel. He had steadily done this with other casualties around the station whose bodies were somewhat salvageable. He dropped the body he was holding and looked upon the others. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his eyed were black, both sclera and iris. The scene before him changed. Genocide had a vision. He saw a dead gray wasteland littered with bodies. These people however weren't cops and wore traditional Japanese attire. In his hand wasn't a gun or knife but a short sickle akin to a farming tool. He heard a dark voice call out to him. Slowly, the corpses around him began to rise, now mere puppets bound eternally to their master's whim. The bodies sold to the reaper who had claimed their lives. Genocide's vision ended. His eyes had returned normal. Around him, dead cops began to rise. His dark essence had entered their bodies and reanimated them. He sent his dead army to attack the officers fleeing to the roof of the station. These zombies swarmed the stairwell giving chase to the few survivors. There were five of them. They had two flights of stairs to climb and a horde of their former colleagues close behind them. One officer tripped and was set upon by the horde. The zombies didn't bite them but held them firmly in place. The other four officers stared down wondering what to do. They could hear Genocide chuckling. They could hear humming. They could feel the temperature rising. Their colleague and the two zombies holding him were hit by an enormous green fireball. Genocide had fired a Magnum Opus and had charged the bullet to level 3. The Magnum Opus was simply a magnum that shot fireballs, with bullets that could be charged by holding down the trigger. It had three levels of charges. Level 1 was a small reddish ball of plasma. Level 2 was slightly larger and yellow. Level 3 was the maximum charge and resulted in a large slow moving green blast of energy. The officer was ignited and Genocide watched gleefully as the force of the blast sent him flying through a wall. The four officers continued up firing occasionally to slow down the zombies. Soon they made it to a door leading to the roof. Before one officer could reach it, he was sniped by Genocide, a bullet to the head killing him instantly. The remaining three made it out. They regrouped with the others already there, 12 in total, including Lary, Evans, and Gracia. This would be their final stand. They just had to hold out until Genocide made it up there. They just had to keep Genocide occupied until the helicopters arrived. Genocide slowly ascended the stairs behind his horde. On the roof, the remaining survivors faced off against waves of the undead. Evans recognized the attackers. These zombies were being controlled by nanomachines. He heard the stories of several weapons encountered by soldiers on the battlefield. These creatures were called Metaldeads as they were reanimated via machines. They had been officially banned by most of the worlds' governments for being unethical. However, this did not stop the technology from being spread still between shady organizations, terrorists, etc. Evans wondered how Genocide got this form of nanotechnology. Evans long speculated that the dark essence used by most of the killers they encountered was a a form of nanotech however it was different from anything else he had seen or heard about. The dark essence seemed to be an amalgamation of other types of nanotech. Evans had to save his inquiries for later. He reloaded his wristgun and took aim at the approaching group of Metaldeads. Gracia steadied her handgun and shot two Metaldeads in the head. From the single door countless arms seemed to spill forth from the darkness. The other officers took turns firing in intervals. this allowed them to create a steady stream of fire where no more that three guns needed to be reloaded at once. The horde seemed to thin out over time as if they were making progress. In actuality, the Metaldeads were just making room for Genocide to enter. Genocide exploded in a sprint from the door. Everyone fired upon the killer. Genocide had now chosen a wrist mounted mini flamethrower to use as his weapon. He stormed past the oncoming bullets taking some damage, but refused to slow down. He unleashed a stream of fire that caught five of the officers in one fell swoop. Gracia fired five rounds into Genocide's face. He stumbled back. Lary took the chance to fire several mine gun bullets at Genocide's feet. The mines quickly detected his movement and exploded. In seconds, Genocide was on his back.
Staring at the night sky Genocide saw the moon. He reached for it. He called for the darkness to give him more power. His wounds began healing. In the sky he could hear the whirl of propellers. There were six helicopters in total. The first two had evacuated the survivors while the others stayed to engage Genocide. Genocide got up and unstrapped the sniper rifle from his back. He stood before the searchlights as a black silhouette, cornered but unwilling to back down. Lary stared down at him smiling. "Okay!" He shouted, "Let's Tango!" Upon this declaration the second jamming device was activated. Now, isolated on the roof, Genocide's guns couldn't be fired and the helicopters were out of range of the device. Now Genocide stood like a sitting duck. A helicopter fired a rocket. Genocide side stepped and grabbed it. He turned his body redirecting the rocket to hit another helicopter. As it exploded Genocide drew his knife and threw it at another helicopter. Behind the knife was such force that it shattered the helicopter window's glass, embedding itself in the pilot. This helicopter too went down where it exploded. "Holy clucknuggets!Did you see that!?" Lary said dumbfounded. Evans looked out the helicopter door he was in jaw open in shock. "There's no way." He collected himself quickly and radioed the remaining two helicopters to keep moving and to use their machineguns as much as possible. The helicopters reigned down upon Genocide tearing apart his body. Shreds of leather and darkened blood sprayed across the pavement of the roof. Gracia watched as Genocide's body was destroyed repeatedly as it tried to heal. Surely he had to stop at some point. After 10 minutes the helicopters had exhausted their cache of ammunition and soldiers opted to fire their own rifles and occasionally throw grenades. After about six minutes, they too had run out of bullets. Genocide stood unfazed. He had long since healed himself and now appeared intangible with gunfire seeming to pass through his body. His coat once ripped , now appeared whole though on closer inspection seemed to writhe. Gracia looked in horror as she remembered the tales her adopted father had told her. Tales he had in turn heard from his predecessors. Every so often officers had reported encounters with ghost like beings cloaked in a cloud of living dark mist. The beings were rumored to be responsible for the deaths of multiple people ranging from scientists, veterans, mafia, politicians, etc. They were seen near such crime scenes and even more shockingly appeared around several sites where suicides were committed. These beings were reportedly impervious to bullets and filled anyone who got near with an impending sense of dread. If Genocide was connected to them or somehow turning into one , there was little chance they would be able to defeat him. Gracia's fears were confirmed when she saw that Genocide's leather coat had been destroyed and he had replaced it with the dark mist coalescing from his own spilled blood. The dark mist, swirling, grew larger and several tendrils sprouted out from it. Gracia could briefly make out a figure standing next to Genocide. A hooded figure cloaked in the same black substance. The figure stared up at her with soulless, blackened eyes which seemed to beckon her to jump from the aircraft she was standing in. Compelling her to give in to the death that plagued the earth. Genocide kneeled to his master. The Shinigami, Masataka stared down at his disciple. "You have done a great service to us. Even now the sealed god stirs in its slumber. Its...Awakening will soon be upon us. It calls out for war. It begs for famine. It longs to continue its conquest. We are the death it so desires. The death that is necessary for this civilization to grow. Use the power that I have bestowed upon you. Finish the mission as you see fit." The Shinigami vanished and Genocide stood.Genocide stared at his hands. He remembered the first killing spree. He was on a bus. It stopped. A woman got on the bus and walked to the back smiling as she passed him. Something about her eyes unnerved him. They were so bright but something dark reflected inside them. He ignored the thought and put in his headphones. In minutes he had dozed off. He jumped awake. He looked around and froze in panic. All around him, everyone had been hacked to pieces. He saw the driver, actively being stabbed by a masked assailant. The mask, painted white with black eyeholes, stared back at him. It raised a finger over where its lips would be. Even under the expressionless visage, he could feel that same smile. He ran home that morning. He went to his room to find it destroyed. His posters, his computer, his tv, everything, had been ruined. He turned around and saw a man at the end of the hallway holding a sledge hammer. "The hell you been, boy?", his stepdad sneered. The man dropped his hammer and walked closer, veins pulsing with rage. He tried to explain how his car had caught fire forcing him to walk 4 miles to the nearest bus stop, but the man's fist was faster than his words. "Boy!Answer me when I talk to you!!" the man says as he backhands the taste out of the would be Genocide's mouth. He took that beating for several minutes before being left to stare at his ransacked room. He hated how his stepdad went out of his way to destroy the things he loved. Soon, another set of footsteps could be heard. It was his mother standing behind his locked door. She didn't knock, or say anything. She just stood there, doing nothing as always. He never knew if she came to talk to him or apologize. All he knew was that she could never bring herself to speak to or even acknowledge him. Maybe out of guilt or perhaps shame. A year or two later after he had had enough he ran away from home. Living out on the streets alone, without friends, or family, he would embark on countless killing sprees. These killings weren't of his own volition however. He was coerced by some corrupt officers from The Unit. They made him kill on their behalf. Sometimes they were protesters, sometimes they were drug dealers, other times, petty criminals they couldn't be bothered to process. It was routine for him to be used to kill entire houses of drug riddled addicts. During one such venture he entered a drug den, killing the dealer as instructed. He took out several junkies before turning to leave. A woman who survived her injuries clung to his heel begging him to stop. Looking down he aimed the handgun he was carrying at her head of long disheveled brown hair and fired. Feeling nothing, he kicked her body aside like trash when it hit him. Her face. This woman had been his mother. What was she doing in a place like this? He felt a shock of emotion. He wondered if she had always been like this, or had she changed after he left. He never made amends, but decided to stop killing from then on. The unit did not like that. Once it became apparent that he was no longer of use to them they started a manhunt to apprehend him with lethal force. They found him. They killed him. But he survived.
He remembered the girl on the bus. He remembered her eyes. Those of a sadistic killer. Still there was something else inside them. Something faint but deeper. So. Much. Sadness. Just like him. He felt the hatred begin to spread. His purpose, he decided, was to make all humans rot in the hell they created for him.
These people, he thought to himself, these living diseases, all needed to die. Their struggles, their problems, they spread like cancer to others. The only cure for humanity's sin, its collective wrongdoings, was genocide.
Around him, dark tendrils continued to form and expand, spinning in a vortex. Genocide pulled out two pistols. He squeezed the triggers to no effect. "As I see fit, huh? Hehe." He squeezed both guns in his hands, breaking them into pieces. He concentrated. In his hands, two more guns materialized now completely black due to being forged from the dark essence. Forged by his will. Immune to the jamming device that shut down conventional firearms. He raised his arms at each remaining helicopter and opened fire. Countless tendrils whipped out and slashed at his targets joining the dark essence bullets. It was chaos. Dark tendrils and bullets tore through every direction as Genocide spun and swirled around in 360 degrees firing randomly with purpose. A tendril pierced Gracia's right arm, another, her abdomen. She was however, fortunate, as the other passengers of her helicopter were dismembered. She barely had time to jump from the vehicle before it crashed. She fell 2 yards onto solid concrete. She felt immense pain as her right shoulder shattered on impact. She looked up to see Genocide's blade like appendages ripping through the other escape helicopters. She rolled onto her back and tried to steady herself. Within seconds her body began to repair itself. The nanocells inside her had saved her life but were now depleted. She would need another supplement lest she receive another fatal injury. The standard nanocells she and the others had were much less potent than those of the killers they faced. In truth, they had only minimal strength boosts being able to lift 5-8 more pounds than before and healing being limited to one or two fatal injuries so long as death didn't occur instantly. Gracia blacked out. She awoke the next morning in a hospital. There the doctors refilled her nanocells. She learned that the station had been left in ruins. Genocide had detonated some type of minature nuke following his rampage. He always blew up the stations as if to send a message. Gracia looked out the window thinking about why she became a cop. Twice her family had been murdered by them. Her biological family had been killed in an on record drug raid committed by a group of corrupt officers called The Unit. She had been adopted by another officer that arrived at the scene who found her as a child hiding in a closed. Sadly, he too was killed for trying to expose the activities of The Unit. Gracia joined the force to avenge both losses and bring justice to the killers that disguised themselves as normal people. Law enforcement was neither good, nor bad. It depended upon the people that made it up. In the dying corrupt world Gracia lived in, she vowed to be a beacon of light. Evans laid in a bed adjacent to Lary. "That damn Genocide's somethin else in' he?Like the stories you told us were understatements. That man could legit not die at this point in the story. Like he has friggin plot armor or somthin.'' Evans cut him off" I get it. We all got our asses handed to us. But did you see that ..thing that appeared next to him. Right before he created that black vortex that wiped us out. That must have something to do with his power. Maybe there's a still a way to stop him."Lary chimed in," That fella looked like he was on the way to a black metal concert wit all the black facepaint he was wearin' Creeped me out to be honest." As the survivors mulled over their predicament, the cycle of evil continued to spread elsewhere.
Budley flips through the pages of a magazine. He checks his watch. He looks around the gas station and doesn't see any customers. Seizing the opportunity, he puts in his headphones and begins playing an imaginary guitar as he jams to a progressive deathcore album. Oblivious to the screams coming from outside, the store clerk moves on to thumping two candy bars on the counter to simulate drums. Budley sees that his shift has ended and begins locking up the store. He sweeps the aisles and jumps as a shadow appears behind him. He turns and sees a well groomed bearded man dressed in a black hoodie, black shirt, and black and gray camo pants. The man holds out his hand and smiles. Budley rings up the pack of nicotine substitute gum. "Tryin to kick the habit huh?" Budley asks. The man replies, "Somethin like that. Gotta get my priorities back in check. Focus on the things that really matter. That damn KonCreep's a hell of a band aren't they?" He nods to the playlist on Budley's phone. "Yeah, they're killer. just got into them a month back." Budley answers. "You know, I'm something of a musician myself. Maybe you'll hear of me on the news someday." Jim Jimenez says as he sees himself out. He walks to the back of the building and passes an ominous form of graffiti. A woman lays unmoving and above her, written on concrete in red is a message that simply says "Genocide Reigns".

Synopsis:
Carlos was an ordinary software engineer on Earth, up until he died and found himself in a fantasy world of dungeons, magic, and adventure. This new world offers many fascinating possibilities, but it's unfortunate that the skills he spent much of his life developing will be useless because they don't have computers.
Wait, why does this spell incantation read like a computer program's source code? Magic is programming?
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Here we go with book 2!
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Carlos lounged comfortably on one of the mayor's fancy sofas. At 23 years old with a healthy body he really didn't need cushioned upholstery, but he liked how it felt. Honestly, he was probably more comfortable with high quality furniture than someone of his relatively low-income background should be in this world. Spoiled by the mass production factories of modern Earth, I suppose. All of this stuff here is probably handmade. Er, make that definitely handmade. Unless they have magic factories I haven't heard about, or something. He mentally shrugged. There was no point trying to change his attitudes toward furniture now. While this world might have higher prices for a lot of things than he was used to, he was also a lot richer than he was used to thanks to having become a noble lord. People would expect him to treat fine furniture as cheap because of his station.
I might have the physical habits of a couch potato, but at least I don't look like one. Too skinny. Not as skinny as Amber, though. He smiled as he watched the young woman next to him on the sofa continue animatedly expounding on their recent adventures together. She was lanky, with few curves to speak of and spindly limbs, far from any conventional picture of feminine beauty. Her hair, a slightly lighter shade of brown than his own, was cropped short. He thought she was 18 or 19 years old, but wasn't sure. Have I really never asked her age before? ... Would that be a rude question here? Regardless of her age, she had grown her confidence a lot since their first meeting a few weeks ago. She'd found her footing in a new life that she'd seized with utter determination, and he saw no sign of the shyness that she'd first greeted him with. The way her potential was finally blooming was beautiful to watch.
Carlos turned his gaze to the sofa across from them and carefully held back from laughing at the expressions Trinlen was making as Amber wrapped up explaining the events and developments they'd gone through since their introduction to him at the Royal Mage Academy. Carlos had contributed a fair amount to the explanation at first, but Amber had taken to it with enthusiasm when she arrived, and he could tell she was enjoying it. The young man in front of them, newly graduated from said academy, was on the edge of his seat and leaning forward, hanging attentively on every word. His casual attire, plain and made of cheap materials, looked thoroughly out of place on the finely embroidered velvet of the sofa, but he'd shown no sign of even noticing the finery around him. Excitement warred for control of his face with surprise, disbelief, envy, and dismay.
Amber finished her impromptu monologue, and Trinlen slowly schooled his face into a neutral expression. His voice was tense and tightly controlled. "So... In short, you're telling me that in the mere two weeks since you met me, you discovered a mana-poaching conspiracy of nobles, were abducted right under the noses of two royal guards without them even noticing, absorbed mana so fast that you gained 6 levels in a day and a half - so unfair, by the way - somehow learned an obscure portal spell from just its name and description, found evidence of a conspiracy against the Crown, and personally met a princess." He paused, then threw his hands up as he wailed in frustration and disappointment. "And I missed it!?"
Carlos threw back his head and burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. Trinlen just sounded so much like a little kid who'd barely missed out on a candy store giving away its entire stock for free. It was such an incredible light-hearted contrast with how everyone else viewed these same events that the sheer ridiculousness of it was overwhelming. Amber joined the laughter a moment later, shaking her head in amused disbelief, and after a few more seconds Trinlen started chuckling too.
Carlos's laughter eventually trailed off, and he took a deep breath to settle down. "Thanks, Trinlen. It's been a very stressful two weeks, and laughing like that helped release a lot of it. Feels good. Anyway, what have you been up to? I thought you would take a whole month to graduate?"
"Technically I only said 'next month', not that it would be at the same point in the month. But yes, this is earlier than I expected. The normal graduation ceremony is still a week and a half away." Trinlen shrugged. "They didn't explain the reasons, but after what you said I'm guessing your meeting with the princess prompted her to do something. The vice headmaster called me to his office yesterday morning, a few teachers grilled me on my classwork, and they declared I'd passed my exams. Then they told me to pack because I'd be teleported to my new employers the next day, and here I am." He sighed. "Hmph. Now I won't get to humiliate Norla in front of the whole academy when she gives her speech." Then he perked up and grinned widely. "But it sounds like you two are going to be so much fun that I'll get over it in no time!"
"I'm not sure if I agree with your idea of fun, Trinlen, but if it motivates you to help us more then that's good enough for me." Carlos chuckled again. "Anyway, do you need some time to get settled in? You might need to think about lesson plans for us too. We don't need just catalogues of incantations to learn anymore, at least not for simple ones, but I believe you learned other things in the academy too. You mentioned creating your own spells, as I recall."
Trinlen nodded. "I did mention that, yes. I'm guessing your lack of need for a catalogue is because of your newfound ability to somehow pull entire incantations from thin air? You'll have to at least tell me about the limitations of that so I'll know what I still need to teach you, but yeah, there are other things. For one thing, there's your sloppy terminology! Why does no one outside of the academy care about properly distinguishing between the states of mana? Is it really that hard to understand that calling aether, mana, and essence all by the same term obscures your meaning and often causes confusion? Or are people so stupid that they can't even understand the difference?"
Carlos blinked and exchanged a look with Amber. His comprehension aid informed him about the distinction the instant Trinlen spoke the terms. That would have been nice to know earlier. The comprehension aid is a house secret, so we should let him explain. "At least for us, it's just ignorance. I don't think I've even heard the other two terms you mentioned, and certainly no one ever explained them. So, what is the difference?"
Trinlen paused, cocked his head for a moment, and slowly deflated after his impassioned rant. "Yeah, okay, that's fair. I don't think I ever heard about it before going to the academy either." He sat up straight. "Aether is what you've been calling ambient mana. It's thin like air, and it's everywhere. Its only use is converting it to mana or essence. Mana, using the term with proper precision, is thicker but still fluid like water. It exists primarily in people or creatures and is used as fuel to supply power for spells and magical effects. Essence is hard and solid. It is the material that soul structures are made of, as well as the forms of active spells and enchantments. Am I clear so far?"
Amber answered first. "Yes, I'm familiar with each of the forms you described. I have questions about more details - so many questions - but you should get properly settled in, and maybe eat lunch, before we really get down to it. Have you spoken with Mayor Stelras yet? Do you have lodging sorted out?"
"I went by his office first. He's having someone take my luggage to an inn. The Adventurer's Haven, I think? He said something about a 'low-value target' and having an empty suite already booked." Trinlen's eyes widened. "Waaait a minute. Is he putting me in the room you two were abducted from?"
Carlos shrugged. "Sounds like it."
"Nice! Think there'll be any evidence left of how it was done?"
"Haha! Probably not by this point, but you're welcome to look. Now go get unpacked, eat a meal, and start planning your lessons for us. I'm glad you're here, but we have some other things to do too."
Trinlen nodded and stood up. "Sure. I'll be back before you miss me."
Carlos waved as Trinlen sauntered out the door. He and Amber sat in companionable silence for a while as he felt the mana - or essence? - of Trinlen's soul moving off into the distance. "Well. That was interesting. It's good to have him, but I was expecting a bit more time to think and plan before he'd get here."
"Yeah." Amber stretched and then leaned back into the sofa's cushions, luxuriating in their soft firmness. "So, how much are we going to tell him? How useful will his knowledge even be for us, now that we have, what did you call it, the reference documentation? That bit about the states of mana is good to know, but is it really relevant and important, and how much more can there be that's not in the documentation?"
"Be careful talking about that out loud, remember?" Carlos relaxed and draped his arms across the sofa's back as he focused his mind on their mental bond through Purple, their friendly dungeon core. [On Earth, we made many languages similar to the language of incantations, and we had the reference documentation for all of them. We even published that documentation free for everyone to have. Teachers for those languages were still useful, and even critically important for many people. Having access to knowledge doesn't mean you automatically understand how to properly apply it. There may be related knowledge we have no idea even exists. There could be techniques and patterns for how to use the language that are simply outside the scope of the documentation. Perhaps most importantly, a teacher can use their experience to notice a student's mistakes and correct them before they become problems.]
[Hmm.] Amber bit her lip, thinking. [Like how I knew about making soul structures and synergies between them, but had no idea about the importance of being able to examine and fix them, I suppose.]
Carlos nodded. [Yeah. And that's a really simple example. I know some that are a lot more complex, though I'm not sure how many of them are even applicable for incantations. Inversion of control, dependency injection, factory patterns...] He shook his head. [Just the context knowledge needed to be able to fully understand those could take days or weeks to teach well enough for you to use them. I could maybe explain the basic ideas faster with some simplified analogies, but that would lose so many details that I doubt it would still be useful.]
Amber paused. [... Even my comprehension aid is baffled by the terms you just said. It translated the individual words that you said, but all I got for the phrases is a confusing jumble.] She chuckled. [Anyway, I concede the point. Trinlen will still be able to teach us important and useful things. We still need to decide what secrets to share with him.]
[A lot depends on how good he is at keeping secrets. We don't actually know him all that well yet. He's certainly fun, and he seems clever, but for assessing his integrity we're leaning pretty hard on just a janitor vouching for him.] Carlos frowned in thought. [In order for him to do his job, he needs to know that we can only "pull an entire incantation from thin air" if it's a simple one. He does not need to know the full details of help, however, and most certainly does not need to learn to use it himself. That secret is a very sensitive one, where even just letting too much knowledge of it spread would lose us a major advantage.]
[Definitely. No casting help where he can hear it, and don't say anything about it that's not directly relevant for his teaching, either. Not until he's earned our full trust.] Amber lapsed into silent consideration. [We should introduce him to Purple. We'll kind of have to at some point anyway, and the really valuable thing there is Purple himself, not just the knowledge of his existence.]
Carlos nodded. [True. I think that probably is the least sensitive of our house secrets, and being able to call him through a bond with Purple would be useful.] He chuckled. [And maybe his cleverness will end up producing some good ideas for Purple to use. See if he can find a more productive outlet than pranks for his creativity. And then... If he keeps that secret well enough for long enough, we can consider trusting him with more secrets.]
Amber sent back wordless agreement.
Carlos started sitting up, lifting himself out of the comfortable cushions. "Well, we should get some food ourselves, too. And maybe introduce Trinlen to everyone else along with Purple." He stood up and spotted a letter he'd set aside when Trinlen arrived. "Oh yeah, and what do you think we should do about Kindar?"
"Wait, what's this about Kindar?"
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I want to make all my one-liners line up, but I'm American and was born in the 90s so naturally I know almost nothing about growing up in the Surrey area in the 80s. It doesn't help that I think the US Harry Potter books changed British words to American equivilants so I don't even have that sort of terminology down. All I really know is trash is rubbish and trash cans are trash bins and pants are trousers and underwear are pants and vacuums are hoovers. I think.
I don't know all the little things for daily life. Like what sort of grocery stores, clothing stores, and such may they have gone to? What sort of candy or snacks may Dudley have asked for at the grocery store? What would a fun day out have looked like for a family of the Dursleys' income level? What about summer vacation?
Or would they have been needing to save every penny to afford Dudley's presents and to send Dudley to Smeltings? I always thought for a family that wanted to buy a vacation home in Majorica with the raise he expected in book 3 that they really didn't go out very much or spend their money on normal things like a day out as a family except a few days a year and only all for Dudley. But perhaps they spent that sort of money just on toys for Dudley instead of memories.

I want to make all my one-liners line up, but I'm American and was born in the 90s so naturally I know almost nothing about growing up in the Surrey area in the 80s. It doesn't help that I think the US Harry Potter books changed British words to American equivilants so I don't even have that sort of terminology down. All I really know is trash is rubbish and trash cans are trash bins and pants are trousers and underwear are pants and vacuums are hoovers. I think.
I don't know all the little things for daily life. Like what sort of grocery stores, clothing stores, and such may they have gone to? What sort of candy or snacks may Dudley have asked for at the grocery store? What would a fun day out have looked like for a family of the Dursleys' income level? What about summer vacation?
Or would they have been needing to save every penny to afford Dudley's presents and to send Dudley to Smeltings? I always thought for a family that wanted to buy a vacation home in Majorica with the raise he expected in book 3 that they really didn't go out very much or spend their money on normal things like a day out as a family except a few days a year and only all for Dudley. But perhaps they spent that sort of money just on toys for Dudley instead of memories.

I work as a casual at a retail job selling sunglasses. I had been put under probation to be promoted as the assistant manager, which I’m sure was bullcrap anyway, but I was getting the hours for an assistant managers position. My manager (been 2 months since she started) has very incompetent and still doesnt know how to work the POS system still, vapes in the back room, gives discounts to customers like free candy, calls one of the team members a fucking bitch, whenever she sees her, cash has gone missing.. and many other problems which I and the whole team have highlighted to the regional manager, with no solutions. I had basically been running the whole store at this point as we can’t work like that with her.
I had been sick from the flu (which I got from her cuz doesn’t want to wear a mask to work), it was pretty bad, I had fevers up to 101.5, chills and tonsillitis, cold cough and all. So I’ve been calling off work for the last week. I have been giving notice that I can’t work the next day with a cover to my manager. The last time I did it, apparently the cover I sought for worked too much and wasn’t allowed to work. There is no way for me to know this, all I can do is ask if they can work, and they said they could. So I informed my manager at 5:43 pm that I found a cover and my manager said the cover can’t work as it’s over her hours. She still managed to give the cover my shift not sure how. Either way the next day she asked me 2 times if I’m able to come to my next shift I said yes, but then she said, I can’t keep having late notice, people are planning their day, and I obviously need notice to give them notice. Now my problem is how am I supposed to know if I’m upto working the next day or not. In my opinion I still gave her plenty notice. I never once misled her and she herself has left shifts midday cuz she felt sick with no cover. Technically it’s not even my job to search for covers, it’s hers, but I still try to find someone so it’s easy on her. At this point I’m not even allowed to get sick.
After this, she started cutting my hours and even removed some of my shifts all together. I asked her why and she said oh I got an email saying the hours have been reduced, which is bull shit cuz when I went to work, her email is always open to download documents and there was no such email. I called the regional manager and apparently they’ve removed the assistant manager position all together, which they had basically put me on probation for.
Anywho, I know I need to find new work now, but it is just irritating how the management doesn’t see how much money they are losing employing such a person as a manager. I’m not even sure how she was hired as a manager in the first place.

Trigger warning - religious differences
I always bragged about how awesome my extended family was. NO family is perfect, but I heard horror stories and always counted my blessings that I had strong ties with my Aunt and uncles since I was raised an only child. That was until a few months ago when my last living Aunt, whom I considered a second mom, shattered me.
Ok, some backstory here. My aunt is a Jehovah’s Witness. Now before you get all judgy, I have always loved her, my uncle and her son with all of my heart. I still do. I respect that they have found faith and live by this code on the daily. I have met many people from their congregation and loved them all (ok, a couple of exceptions). I also appreciate the community they have and love they all show each other. If it weren’t for the religion itself, I would have converted.
I, however, am pagan and have always been since I was about 5 (even the first book I signed out from the school’s library was about witchcraft). Not raised that way, but always found spiritual comfort in nature and the natural world. I have a very strong connection and dedication to my Powers That Be and work every day to help the world be a better place. My Aunt did not know my religion until about 7 years ago. That being said, she and I would have very philosophical conversations when we hung out together. Even at the age of 8, I would listen to her preach to me and ask questions to which she never had answers. I remember her telling me how only 144,000 people would be allowed in heaven and didn’t I think that would be wonderful knowing that our whole family could be together again after we died. We’d all be in heaven if we were all Jehova;s witnesses. I had gone with her many times to do field service (door to door) and asked her why they do that if there’s only a certain number of people allowed. Didn’t that lessen her chances of getting in because I’m sure there were many people more deserving than myself. How did she know for sure she’d be one of the ones to get in and was that fair to keep bringing people into the religion when all the spaces were probably already filled up?
At 8 years old, I had many questions and was just trying to figure these things out. Since she was an adult, I figured she had the answers. My questions were not with malice, just for a want of better understanding. When she didn’t have the answers, I'd ask my mother and grandmother. While they were extremely amused, they said they never understood either. They never said anything bad about her or her attempts to get them to convert, just allowed me to explore religion and spirituality as I wished so I could make my own decision of what was right for me.
Once I was an adult, I avoided talking to her about religion, but found that if I didn’t ask questions and just let her talk, it made her happy. I know she’s a good person at heart and that’s all that matters. After my Mom passed, my aunt and I talked almost every week. I loved talking to her and she became even more like a mom to me. She gave me encouragement and we supported each other through health and emotional crises. I’d make it a point to try and visit at least once a year for a few days so she could visit with my daughter and I. We’d always do lunch with her friends and I loved it. I fell in love with some of the people in her congregation and wished we could live closer to hang out more. I, however, never wavered on my spiritual beliefs, but I have never cared about the religion, race, or sexuality of anyone. If we got along, we were friends and that was that.
My aunt and I had come to an understanding that I would not convert and that we would love and respect each other regardless. Religious talk was off the table for the most part until both of my uncles (my aunt’s two brothers) passed and she had a very hard time dealing with it. She was the last surviving sibling and she was sinking into a depression. I’d talk to her at length and listen to her as she mourned the fact that she would never have contact with them (and my mom) in heaven because they never converted. When she asked me what I believed, I told her that I believed that the soul lived on after the body died and that I believed in reincarnation. I explained my beliefs were closer to hindu and buddhism than christianity (so she had context). We had very long talks and she expressed that she respected my views and actually found comfort in talking with me.
That was until my daughter and I opened our store about 3 years ago. It’s a metaphysical shop and we have crystals, teas, gifts, jewelry, candles and more (about 10% strict;y pagan). My aunt was happy for us until it dawned on her that we might sell pagan stuff. I told her what we sold and she asked me if I was a witch. I replied that I suppose that was one way to describe me, but, again, I considered myself spiritual and that I followed a path closer to buddhism, hinduism, native american. I sent a couple of pictures of the jewelry that we made and she said when we came down, we should bring the jewelry making.
We did, I brought down our best crystals to wrap and bracelet materials and my daughter and I made her a necklace with a very expensive stone (A $200 piece). She brought her friends over and they picked out crystals that they wanted, made bracelets and such. We had fun and I was happy to do it, though I wasn’t expecting people that I had never met before. Still, we had fun. My daughter and I also brought her a basket with local items from our hometown, (Raw honey, handmade stoneware mugs, cutting board, herbal tea and some other items made by us as well) She was thrilled. My aunt and uncle had taken a couple of bad falls a few months before and so my daughter and I made them hand carved cedar walking sticks as well because we knew they went for regular walks and thought it would help their balance. It felt amazing to lavish expensive and heartfelt gifts on them as I has struggled so long with money. I was finally in a place that I could do it. To say the gifts probably totalled in excess of 1K is on the low side, but I was still happy to do it.
Besides the fact that they tried converting my daughter when I wasn’t around, it was a lovely visit. The only problem I had was with a new person my aunt introduced us to. This woman, we’ll call her Dee, ignored me and only talked to my daughter. She was my age if not older, but conversed with my daughter, 17, like I wasn’t there. They traded contact info and Dee insisted that they keep in touch while my daughter was in college. Dee said she was going to keep an eye on her. I thought that was odd, but I did enjoy the feeling of having an extended family sort of since I actually had no family besides my Aunt.
Let’s jump forward to the following year and we were struggling financially. Not horrible, but unable to lavish the gifts that we did the year before. Instead, I created a beautiful aromatherapy candle, some delicious herbal teas and we found a couple of very rare antique tea cups that had amazing value to them (about $100 a piece). We made a basket for her and I decided we would cook for them. (gluten free, soy free, dairy free etc). Our visit went so well, it was great to see them. We just enjoyed hanging out with them and talking. They loved the meal we made for them and the dairy free organic chocolate I made. Everything was great until the day we were leaving. Dee showed up and again ignored me, talked to my daughter and chastised her for getting a pet snake as that was an animal associated with the devil. My daughter is one to push the envelope a bit and said how she wanted to get a tattoo as well, one of a snake. Both my aunt and Dee were shocked and said she should never get a tattoo.. Again related to the devil, I went to the bathroom as I was not involved in the conversation and knew my daughter could hold her own. Little do they know that my daughter is also trans. I told her not to say anything to them just yet. I came back to them talking about how college was going and I thought my aunt and Dee would faint when she said her college roommate was male. She quickly explained that it was fine because he was gay and how awesome he was (he is btw). She quickly realized what I meant when she saw their reaction to him being gay. It wasn’t that she was living with a boy, it was that he was gay and “why did he choose to be gay.” I tried redirecting the conversation a couple of times, but they ignored me.
They finally let it go, but just after Dee left, we were getting ready to depart as well. My aunt returned the basket I made for her (minus the expensive tea cups). She said she could not accept them as they were touched by the devil. Shocked, I asked what she meant. She said that because they came from my store, they carried Satan's influence and she could not have them in our home. Truthfully, I explained that I made those items for her and that the only things that came from the store were the teacups. She was confused why I had gotten upset. When I explained that I gave her a gift and if she didn’t want it, she could regift it or throw it away. That gift came from my heart with all the love I have for her and that I didn't need to know her opinions about the gifts because It insinuated I, myself, was evil and it was extremely hurtful. She basically continued on insisting that I was just not aware of how much Satan had a hold of me. All I could do was tell her how much I loved her and leave.
I didn’t take her calls and cried about this for over a month. I finally felt strong enough to talk to her and again she insisted that because those items touched my hands, they were influenced by satan and she wished I could understand how they just can’t have that influence in their home. Frustrated, I asked how she could shop at grocery stores or buy anything from department stores because she can’t guarantee that those items didn’t touch hands that were influenced by satan. Also , I asked her how they could have eaten the food I prepared for them and why did they even invite me into their home to begin with if that’s the way she felt about me. She suddenly needed to go.
We talked a few times since then but it always came back to religion. At one point I asked her again why she would even invite us to her home if she felt that way. Her response was to save my daughter. The pain and heartache she has inflicted is immense, but I cannot bring myself to argue the point because I’m afraid if I make my point to her, it will break her. She’s in her 80’s and I believe has the beginnings of dementia. Her religion brings her comfort and I don’t want to say anything that might make her doubt her religion at her advanced age.
I’ve decided it is probably best for both of our mental health to stop all contact with her( with the exception of sending cards telling them how much I love them) even though I’ve always seen her as a second mom. AITA for making this decision and not trying to work things out with her or allow her to believe that I still might convert?
*** Please understand this is not a bash on any religion. Everyone has the right to believe in whatever religion they wish. That includes me, so if you feel the need to bash them or me for our spiritual choices, you can move along ***
I have never felt like I needed to hide any part of me from my friends, family, and the public in general. Not until now. Buckle up, this is a bumpy ride.
I've always been kind hearted, almost to a flaw. I took care of my grandmother, my step-dad, my mom and helped with a family friend during long term and terminal illnesses. I had my daughter and, without her father's help, raised her on my own with very little to no support. I helped friends with their farm who left me homeless in the end because I want interested in an extramarital affair. I lost my home and all that I loved including my husband because he lied to me and never paid it mortgage while I was recovering from an illness. In short, I have had a tough life, but it has never made me turn my back on anyone who needed help or in difficult family when they were ignored by the others. That's just some background before I tell you this situation.
Three years ago, after a bout of covid, my daughter was suicidal. She had been in the top three of her HS class and yet at that point almost failed her junior year. Not knowing if she would have the emotional strength to face college and adulting in general, I set up a plan B for her. I started a store in her name and that way she'd have something at least to fall back on if she was unable to function in the m-f 9 to 5 world. We started slow by doing craft fairs, seeking crystals, candles, jewelry, and gifts. We were kicked out of one because the person running it assumed we were witches. She was not wrong exactly as we identified as pagan, but we lived our life closest to the Buddhist and Hindu traditions, not traditional wicca. These were people who knew us for years and were considered acquaintances if not friends.
Our business flourished and we ended up opening our brick and mortar that fall after remodeling our garage/ barn and turning it into a store front. Even though I run it for my daughter, it is hers and we work together to keep it going.
In the past few years I've lost my mom, and two uncles. I have no family besides my mother's sister and her husband which we were pretty close. My aunt knew that I was pagan and had tried recruiting me into her religion since I was 5. Even at that tender age her religion never made sense and I would ask her questions to which she never had answers. I accepted her and respected her and her religion even though I didn't agree. I loved the people she introduced me to that were in her church and I always got along with them. That is until we visited the year after we started our store. My aunt was thrilled about us bringing crystals down and making jewelry with her. We met a new friend of hers (middle aged woman) who ignored me completely and oozed affection on my daughter. She got my daughter's contact info and contacted her frequently. Trying to convert and ”save” her. My daughter wasn't having it as even though she was in a delicate state, she is very level headed and strong willed.
This year we visited and we brought herbal tea, candies, and rare vintage tea cups for my aunt. The day we were leaving, she handed back everything but the vintage tea cups and told me she couldn't accept them because they were touched by Satan (aka made by my hands). To say I was devastated is an understatement. This woman was always like a second mom to me and we had grown closer after my mom passed away. It was a 20 hour drive home and I cried most of the way. I cried for weeks after a well. Thinking of it now still brings me tears. As she was telling me that Satan had a hold on me and that she was trying to save me, all I did was remind her how much I loved her and my uncle. Every time since then that we have talked, she says the same thing, but now she told me I was a lost cause. I feel like trying to stay in touch is detrimental to her mental health ( and my own). I don't want to give up or abandon the last of my family, but I can't talk to her and endure the endless insinuations that I'm evil because I don't believe in her religion. She took a bad fall and broke her arm. The last time we spoke, she talked as if it was my fault for bringing the devil into her home.
While I could usually brush this off as delusional ranting, it hits hard because the same day she fell, my dad died. I know the Powers That Be only give as much as we can handle, I just wish they didn't have so much faith in me.
They are in their 80s. I know in all the pieces of my broken heart that they'll never be able to accept my daughter and I unless we change religions and it has crossed my mind just to say we have to put her at ease, but I can't lie like that to them and we cannot betray ourselves like that either. By

TL;DR. Our duplex neighbor was a spiteful Karen. We got revenge on her until she got herself evicted.
I'd shared this story previously (Neighbor Karen Gets Evicted). But that one got really long really fast. I'll do my best to boil it down for you here.
When my then GF and I shared a duplex together, our unit neighbor was a middle aged cat lady that just hated existing, best we can figure. When we first met her she yelled at us for being on her side of the front yard, even though the sidewalk from the driveway went in front of her unit so we had to. Then she demanded we stop using our garage door opener because she didn't like the noise. Her unit was directly over the garages so there was no way around it. We attempted to compromise by offering to only use it during certain times of day, but she was having none of it. Just demanded that we never use it again. So no middle ground was reached. Instead she just ranted, yelled, threatened, and cussed (did I also mention my GF's 7yr old son was there too?) So to respond to that little outburst, I settled the GF down with a cigarette and a beer, her son with some ice cream, and Karen with some petty:
I went downstairs to the garage, and began working on both of my motorcycles one at a time. Loudly. Blaring the pipes as much as I could stand right under her floor. When I'd had my fun, and put the bikes away, I heard her on the phone with the landlord demanding that we be put out immediately. We were in good with the landlord so I wasn't worried. We did get a "alright don't do it again" call from him later.
But thus began a lengthy battle of petty enactments between us over the next year. Some too small to even mention, some getting the cops called. She liked to place a lot of noise complaint calls anonymously. She also took liberties with her lease that we delighted in narcing on her about. But I can honestly say we made her more miserable than she made us. We were enjoying making her life suck.
On Halloween, we took her son out for the usual round of ding-dong-give-me-candy in our little neighborhood. Every kid we met along the way, we informed: "Hey, you should go to 'karen's' unit. She's got the GOOD candy. But she's a little old and hard of hearing so you'll have to bang on the door real hard, and yell trick-or-treat really loudly. I know it was mean to all of those kids, but each of them were a worthy sacrifice upon the Altar of Petty.
The main even came when our unit sprung a leak from the kitchen, somewhere under the sink. We quickly shut off the main valve to the whole house while we waited for the LL to come and address. Meanwhile I typed up a note informing Karen about the water situation. She wasn't home yet. Turns out a small part was needed. LL would run to the store for it, and we'd be fine in 30-45min. Before that happened, the water started spraying again. I looked out the window and sure enough, Karen was out there with a wrench standing over the valve.
I quickly ran out to try and shut it off again, but Karen wouldn't move. she stood guarding the main with her wrench and I was sure if I tried anything she'd brain me with it. We attempted to explain, again (the note I left was wadded up on the ground by her door) that there was a leak and we needed to have the water off until our kitchen sink was repaired. She retorted with something about her needing the water anyway for her animals. They were more important. It became a shouting match between us and her until the LL returned.
By the time LL got back, the water was already pouring out the front door. Our carpets were soaked. LL broke us up and had us explain. But by that time the damage was done. I showed where I left a note, and where she was the one that turned the water back on, flooding our unit. Hearing this, LL refused to renew her lease and evicted her. He kept her deposit to pay for our damages. Once the reality of her situation sunk in, she relented and became just the sweetest old lady you've ever met. Kind and begging. Even to us, apologizing. I remember just flipping her off as we went back inside to start packing. We stayed in a decent hotel for a few days while we got new carpets. One day we came home and Karen was just gone. Moved on to shit on someone else's life. Gone but not forgotten, Karen. You will be remembered.

*DISCLAIMER* I AM A NEWBIE
Imagine me as a newbie astronaut, stepping into the world of reps for the very first time. I’m untrained, like a fresh recruit, and everything is new and exciting, like exploring an alien planet. This is my first reps purchase; my maiden voyage into the galaxy of fashion. I’m over the moon with my purchase! It’s like finding a hidden treasure in the vast cosmos. But hey, I’m still learning to navigate this starry expanse, so please be gentle with me, like the soft glow of the moon in the night sky.

Disclosure - No incentives were offered, but Leo did ask if I could pen down a review if I was satisfied. And guess what? I’m super satisfied!

Seller - Leo. I discovered him after diving deep into the sea of reviews, he was also on a trusted sellers list. I contacted a bunch of sellers, comparing prices, shipping, factories, you name it. I read review after review, like a detective on a mission. But honestly, I am super happy I took the leap of faith
Contact Info - WhatsApp :+86 19120637469 and WeChat: LEO_7868

Price – 173 usd for the Mini Jodie, 154 usd for the pouch

Shipping - 50 USD (This cost covers the shipping of 2 bags without boxes, but with dustbags, all very carefully packed). The parcel arrived at my location via DHL

Timeline -
April 24th - I reached out to Leo, on Whatsapp. “Hello, do you have these two bags?” I asked. He responded with the price, and like Indiana Jones, I took the leap of faith mentioned above and sent the funds for my order through PP Friends & Family.
April 25th - PSP pictures received. I gave the GL to the Jodie, but the color of the pouch was not the right one. Fear not, Leo contacted the factory and returned on April 27th with the right pouch. I gave the GL to the pouch too.
April 27th - Leo,sends me a picture of the box.
May 7th - The tracking number arrived, like a secret code in a spy movie. Leo reassured me he would choose a safe route for my package to avoid any customs shenanigans, like a skilled navigator avoiding stormy seas. The journey of my package began, setting sail from Germany.
May 13th - The items arrived, like long-awaited gifts on Christmas morning. To be honest, I hoped that my package would arrive earlier, but we had holidays where I live due to Orthodox Easter. Everything moves at a snail’s pace during holidays over here, like a sloth on a lazy Sunday!

Pictures
· [Factory photos]: I don’t have them, I never browsed his album for these; I Was on a mission to buy these two)
· [PSPs]( https://imgur.com/a/QXt82lC )
· [Your Photos]( https://imgur.com/a/r5VFvE4 )

Quality - These bags are hitting a high note with a 9,5/10! They’re like a symphony in leather, every stitch hitting the right beat, no off-key notes here. The leather is woven to perfection, just like the intricate lattice on the top of a freshly baked apple pie. But please bear in mind; my eye is not trained, as already stated! :-D The zipper on the Jodie? It’s smoother than a jazz solo. Logos are stamped with the precision of a master craftsman, like a sculptor chiseling a masterpiece. The leather on both? It’s as soft and deep as a soulful ballad. Delicious and SOFT! There’s a tiny hint of fufu, but hey, it’s like a catchy chorus that fades out (no points deducted for this, it’s it’s like a temporary tattoo, it’ll go away).
Accuracy – Since love is the scale, I give them both a solid 5. They’re like well-trained show horses. These are bags born and bred in captivity and they’re mirror images of the authentics, measurements matching the Bottega website like a well-tailored suit.
Rep Satisfaction Rating - 10/10, I’m so smitten I’d probably get another color in both these bags, like a kid in a candy store.
Seller Satisfaction Rating - 10/10. This was my first rodeo with any seller, and all of you made it feel like a magic carpet ride. Leo was a saint, handling my questions and my customs phobia like a seasoned therapist. The service was as prompt as a waiter in a five-star restaurant, and the prices were a steal. I even got a Bottega keychain as a gift, just because, which was the cherry on top of a perfect sundae.
CPR [Cost Performance Ratio] - It’s looking like a perfect 10/10. I didn’t have to rob a bank for two bags that are going to be my go-to party pals.
The Wrap Up -
I’ll be strutting these bags around town without a second thought, like a rockstar on a world tour. 🎸

An idea occurred to me! I've never heard anyone propose this, and I think it could explain a lot of things that don't make sense about Asha's case.
What if the night she disappeared, Asha consumed some alcohol that was in the house? It would explain:
-Her lowered inhibitions, increased impulsivity to leave the house -Her ability to comfortably walk in the cold without a jacket (alcohol temporarily raises body temperature) -The perception that her parents are hiding something or making vague/contradictory statements over the years: they feel ashamed and guilty but are not directly responsible for her leaving -The FBI's insistence that Asha left the house of her own accord and that her parents are not directly responsible for her disappearance
Of course, I'm not saying that Asha was a nine-year old drunk. Maybe Asha heard her older cousins at the sleepover talking about alcohol or even saw them taking a few sips surreptitiously, and that is what sparked the idea for her to try. Or it was a dare.
Or maybe Harold picked up a pack of beers along with candy when he went out to the store that night.
Maybe the sound and bright lights of the trucks jolted her awake/more aware. Or when the alcohol started wearing off, she sought shelter in the Turner shed.
What do you think?