There's something up here with me.
Since I returned to the world of the living, I've been doing my best to become an active member of society again and to try and earn my ticket to heaven in the meantime.
Even though I can't afford this luxury right now, I always donate a portion of my salary to charity, do volunteer work on weekends, and help out at a community kitchen on Thursdays after work.
All of this is to avoid going back there.
But I don't know how well this can work, nor do I know if by gaining this new life, I also received a new chance.
There's something I haven't told you.
If none of this makes sense to you, it´s good to take a look at my first post.
If you missed the last update, I recommend reading it before continuing.
The truth is that my torment hasn't completely stopped. Since I returned from the dead, my nights are filled with agony and terror.
The nightmares are terrible, but when I wake up shrouded in the darkness of my room, I can sometimes discern things in the shadows.
Arachnid-like forms with dozens of eyes and mouths that sing profanities.
Throughout the day, I can still see them, in the corner of my eye almost like a permanent silhouette, a reminder that they're watching me, just waiting for my last breath to take me back via the VIP express lane.
I think Samael didn't like being deceived one bit.
Now, however, it's not the time to recount my escape. There are still many dangers I've yet to warn you about.
And if after your death you find yourselves wandering through the infernal circles, surely at some point you'll come across the Silver City.
The last vestige of community in hell.
Gehenna is like a living structure, a fabric composed of buildings, streets, and alleys that stretches vertically through the 9 circles that compose the abyss.
When I died, I arose just like many others in Lust, the third circle of Hell, contrary to what Alighieri claimed.
The real order of the circles would be: Limbo, Greed, Lust, Wrath, Gluttony, Heresy, Violence, Treachery, and finally, Pride.
The goal of the Collectors was set like a jewel in the center of Limbo.
It's funny, in Dante's work, the city is portrayed as a paradise away from heaven for those with good hearts who never accepted Jesus into their lives. Their only punishment would be to never glimpse the face of God.
Damn, I wish it were like that.
I woke up with the mettalic taste of blood still on my mouth.
A gentle voice was saying something, but with my ears ringing, I couldn't make out anything. I could tell there was something in front of me, the smell was good, my stomach reminded me I was yet to eat anything.
Without much choice, I accepted the charity and ate. The taste was surprisingly good, if I were to describe it, it's something close to pork.
I spent some time just eating and recovering. I was also given a canteen of warm water; it tasted weird, but It was not like I was gonna complain.
As my senses returned, I could understand what the young man in front of me was saying.
I still remember his face, without any bruises,shallow beard and a glimmer of hope that didn't match that place at all.
"Feeling better now ?"
" I guess.. where are we now, Is that thing still here ? "
I tried sitting but a sharp pain on my chest stopped me from moving.
"Hey take it easy now. You're so skinny you look like a twig. When was the last time you ate?"
"About 10 seconds ago "
He smiled a bit.
"Well at least now you´re good enough to enjoy the ride"
With that, I felt prompted to look around, and finally noticed that we were on the back of a strange pickup truck.
Not only that, some sort of locomotive seemed to form around us. In total, there were four vehicles.
Our pickup stood at the center, with metal plaques around its frame and sharp grates on the ends confining us.
On our left, an old mustang suffered to keep itself close traveling on such uneven terrain.
On our right I could see Mice on top of an old motocicle gigling to himself, I silently wished he crashed.
Leading the group ahead, I could see the rear of a black van, and finally, following behind, I saw what appeared to be a Honda with smashed windows and covered in dents.
"Where are they taking us?"
"I have no idea, but anything must be better than these fucking fields."
Recalling Mice's delusions, I wasn't so sure about that.
"Who are you? Are you with them too?"
"I think we're in the same boat, buddy."
"The last guy who called me 'buddy' tied me up and dragged me into the clutches of a monster."
"I don't like them one bit, but from what I saw when we arrived, he was trying to protect you."
"So you really are one of them!"
"I already said we're in the same shit-hole. I got caught by the masked one while trying to hunt dinner." he said, pointing out the window towards the driver of the pickup, a tall, muscular man wearing a strange wooden mask.
"Sorry, the past few days have been so... God If you only knew what I've been through."
The young man chuckled sincerely. "Friend, I'm sure whatever you've been through, I've lived it dozens of times already. The name's John, nice to meet you."
"Well, John, you can call me Nate. I would shake your hand, but..." I nudged towards the wires on my hands. "
"Could be worse" He gestured towards his feet.
They where chopped off.
"Holy shit! I´m sorry John, these guys are insane!"
"Don´t be, They will be back once I die, but I have a feeling they will not let that happen so soon."
We could already see the spire slowly coming into view on the horizon.
"You sound used to all of this."
"Don't tell me, you're new?"
" I...still can´t believe this is all real"
"You better come to terms with it fast; this place doesn't take pity on the weak."
We didn't feel like chatting after that.
I wanted to ask about what I was given to eat, but something told me I would be better off not knowing. We traveled far towards the Spire, Gehenna slowly embracing us again with its dark skies.
From up close, I was able to see an opening in the base of the Spire.
The twisted terrain of the fields gave way to broken roads and dusted buildings, screams of despair found their way back to my ears as we passed near the tar pits.
Haunted by memories of my arrival, I couldn't help but search for the beasts that mauled me in the confusing streets of the city. I don't know if it was because of the sound of the engines or the size of our group, but I didn't see them among the wreckage and alleyways.
As we approached the Spire, a strange icy breeze embraced us. The shock was so intense that I lost my breath, trembling as I noticed a thin layer of ice forming rapidly on the pickup truck.
"Try to control your breathing, it'll pass soon."
"What is this now?"
"Specters."
As we finally reached the center of Lust, I realized we were not alone.
The base of the Spire held an immense arched opening, from which a dark interior was barely visible. Above the entrance, crucified on the wall, I saw a man; the slight movement of his head and his blue eyes made my stomach churn.
The culprits for the sudden cold gathered below the man in desperation. There were dozens of them, humanoid beings emitting a faint glow and seeming to levitate; their cries echoed through the city, spreading along with their icy presence.
The man only watched them, one by one, but said nothing.
He seemed to be judging them.
The engines shut off, and one by one the collectors descended from the vehicles.
Mice was the first to approach; the specters recoiled from him like cockroaches fleeing from light.
He then looked the man in the eyes, bowed, and said:
"Oh Aeacus! King of Aegina, my heart is not pure for rest, my eyes are blind to injustice, and my fists only weigh for my desires. From dust I came and to dust I return, my soul judged to forever burn, so I beg you to open the doors to my torment."
The Man's eyes locked onto Mice for a moment, then his lips whispered something in an elaborate tongue, and the darkness of the entrance turned into a scarlet mass.
I didn't knew about the kings back then. Aeacus is the easiest to convince; he oversees the higher circles. They say if you're under Minos's gaze, however, I hope you enjoy the lower circles because he's unlikely to grant you passage. And if you're a special kind of unlucky, I suggest you don't even try to approach Rhadamantus unless you want a one-way ticket to Pride.
The collectors then pulled us out of the cars, displaying us like trophies in an organized line. I had to support John on my shoulders; otherwise, they would have made him crawl the rest of the way.
From the other cars, a few more people emerged, other unfortunate souls with the same destination as mine. I saw a beautiful woman with short red hair and brown eyes; she was injured with several cuts on her back. The collector taking her out of the van seemed pleased; I tried not to dwell on it too much. She stared at me intensely, looking scared.
A man had to be forcibly removed from the Honda by two collectors. He was big and strong, dark-skinned with furious eyes, long braids cascading from his head to the middle of his back, a terrible scar showing on his left arm.
To this day, I have no idea how they managed to capture that bastard; later, he would tell me that they didn't got him until after he'd taken down some of them.
Finally, an old man with a band over his eyes was pushed into line; he looked so worn down that I thought I would see him turning to dust at any moment.
Mice then made his way to the entrance and was swallowed by the mass.
The collectors forced us to enter, one by one I saw everyone being pushed into the unknown, looking around I tried to think of something, some escape route.
"Don't do anything stupid," John whispered in my ear. "It won't work."
I thought about throwing him at them and running for my life. I didn't know him, didn't know a damn thing about him except his name. A glance at the collectors' weapons made me change my mind; I wouldn't get far even if I did find an opening.
Finally, my turn came. With the weight of John still on my shoulders, I walked to the entrance with my heart pounding in fear.
The mass that filled it seemed to react to me, stretching to cover my body, the scarlet glow blinding me as the collectors urged me to hurry.
I reached out my hand and felt a slight resistance, almost like touching cold gelatin. I felt it pulling me, and before my head was completely swallowed, I held my breath.
My body was warm; it was like being bathed in soup, every exposed inch of my skin burning, but the agony was only beginning.
I felt that strange mass invading me, entering through my nose, ears, eyes.
It hurt.
I tried to scream but my lungs were filled with the alien substance that forced its way through my organs; I felt like I was about to lose consciousness.
A shockwave ran through my body; I felt as if I was being torn into a thousand pieces and reformed, my consciousness used as a child's toy.
And then I was spat out.
I barfed on the gray grass that solemnly clung to me; John lay beside me, eyes rolled back, red fluid still trickling from his mouth.
I didn't have time to worry about him.
Before me, proudly stood what can only be described as a monument of sin.
Far from the light of hope it once was, now taken and calloused, abused and defiled by the filthy ideals of the damned scum.
Its golden streets don't shine.
Its security only harbors hate.
Its cracked walls don't protect, they only confine.
Even though I didn't knew much about hell, didn't knew its history or care about its purpose, I could see in that moment that I was looking at the greatest disrespect to the sacred that could exist.
An empire built with blood and erected by desire.
The Silver City opened its gates to me.
With the intention of never letting me go again.
The other collectors arrived, and one by one we were introduced to the next 40 years of our lives.
The memories of this city are painful. I tried to ditch this shit given the purpose of it all, but a drag is necessary if I'm really going to recall the decades I spent under that tyrant's rule.
Passing through the rusty gates, the lower city is the first thing you see. Jack leaves this region of the Silver City for his merchants to sell their findings in the lower circles, where everywhere you look, prostitutes and slaves accompany the more fortunate. Jack's personal guard takes advantage of his authority to get everything they want without spending a penny, of course.
Linked to the lower city by a rudimentary elevator, the Pleasure Zone casts its glow over those below, a neighborhood where the best drinks, drugs, and alterations can easily be found. Hunters and collectors usually walk around there, spending their earnings to calm their vices and complaining about their King's insane demands.
But by far, the most striking sight is a castle covered in soot, built at the highest level of the city, where only Jack's personal circle can tread without being summoned.
That's exactly where we were being taken.
John was still unconscious, being carried by our captors.
As we walked under the guns, naked and defenseless, the malicious glares of the vendors assessed us as new merchandise.
My feet ached, full of blisters; I couldn't feel my hands anymore. Looking at a toothless man being pulled by a chain around his neck, I wondered if that would be my fate.
Desperation was beginning to consume me.
We ascended to the Pleasure Zone by elevator, the same one powered by the brute force of several slaves harnessed to the wall, their hands raw from continuous and repetitive effort.
The hallucinogenic fumes from the laboratories filled the street of the neighborhood. I felt my heart race, my skin tingle, and a sweet smell invading my mind. The woman accompanying us seemed to recognize the substance as she lunged towards the source of the vapors. Mice kicked her in the stomach, making her kneel, grabbed her by the hair, and laughed.
"You fucking addict! You've used this shit before, haven't you? Look at the way you're trembling, hahaha! If they don't send you to the brothel, I might have an idea of what to do with you!"
She didn't seem to understand, or care, drooling from her mouth and experiencing small spasms as the drug filled her lungs.
Wish I could say I avoided it, but this shit is strong; within a few minutes, I was almost as high as when the Succubus attacked.
We then walked through the alleyways towards a staircase carved in marble; a sinner was overdosing against the steps.
Mice shot him in the head and threw him aside.
One moment he was alive, and the next, the remnants of his brain adorned the ground.
I gasped for air, my vision darkening; I meant nothing to them, they could dispose of me whenever they wanted.
I felt like I was going to die. I felt like I was going back to the tar pits, seeing myself suffering and being devoured for ages, running only to be captured, no rest, no warning.
What kind of being would create such a rotten place? Why did he have the right to read my soul and throw me towards this flaming lake? It's not fair, it's sick.
As I climbed the stairs, stepping on the remnants of the sinner's mind, I wondered if God was watching me at that moment.
Maybe he was having fun.
The biblical hell holds a king.
It shelters demons and powerful beings born from darkness itself.
And as you already know, beings made by the Creator's own hand.
It wouldn't be at that moment that I would meet Samael, but alongside the self-proclaimed human King, I met his right-hand beast.
When the doors of the castle opened, I fell to my knees on the ground.
An angelic figure, with the aura of pure evil.
A feminine body, dressed in white adorned with jade, three pairs of long and golden wings kept her hovering a few meters above the ground.
On her face, a twisted helmet, with an eternal black flame at its peak, portraying what was, what is, and what will come.
The base of her helmet completely covers her eyes, squeezing them with such force that blood constantly drips to the ground. Her face constantly changes—a slender young woman, a frightened child, an irritated elder, a black goat, a hungry tarantula, an unnamed beast, an indescribable void.
In her hands, a chain hangs a clock, which constantly moves, which moves constantly. It tries to guess the hour, the hour that only He knows, constantly wrong, corrects itself, recoils, recalculates, wrong, corrects itself, recoils, recalculates, wrong.
Such a beautiful creature, fell alongside the morning star, with a third of the stars, to forever hate us, to extinguish everything and everyone.
Who was I compared to such perfection?
Who was I compared to such obscenity?
I felt broken.
I felt complete.
Terrified.
Emancipated.
A thousand mouths sang in a thousand languages in my mind, all equally correct, all equally wrong.
The duality that leads to madness.
In my heart, he introduced himself, Astaroth, the Grand Duke of Hell.
With a flick of his hand, he disappeared, but I still felt him watching us, assessing us.
Seated on a broken throne, there was the face of control.
Almost as tall and robust as my captured companion, a short, defined beard adorned a ruthless face marked by battles.
Gray hair and a leather cloak, a silver medallion around his neck, and a shining red ring on his left hand, eating grapes like a Greek emperor.
Jack graced us with his presence.
Mice once again took the initiative.
"My lord, we have found fresh meat of the highest quality to expand your empire, mostly young and strong, and the old one is wise and knows the ancient rituals."
Jack looked at us as if we were worms, evaluating us like a spoiled child receiving gifts at Christmas.
"You bring me trash and expect gratitude. If this is what you consider good quality, perhaps it's time to revoke your position."
Jack's ring began to glow, and I felt Astaroth's strong presence growing. Mice quickly knelt and spoke again.
"My king! One of them appears to be marked." Mice then looked at me with a malicious smile, sending a shiver down my spine.
Jack observed me, the disdain in his eyes palpable.
He seemed to notice something at that moment, scratched his beard, and smiled.
"Mice! I can always count on you to keep me entertained. Take him to the pit, send the others to the dungeon. There may be something useful in this batch after all.
Before I could protest, I was struck on the head with the butt of a gun, and I lost consciousness.
Sorry, I need a moment. Just remembering the terrible nights I spent in that place makes me feel sick.
Man, I hope smoking doesn't count as too big of a sin.
When I woke up, I was chained to a wooden pillar by the neck, with several other sinners chained around me.
The place was poorly lit, and I could smell feces and urine. They didn't even release us to go to the bathroom.
In front of me, Jack stood with two guards.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. I'm sorry to disturb your rest, but I have some questions, and if you cooperate, you may find yourself involved in something much bigger and more important than your miserable afterlife."
"Screw you! I've seen the things your people do, you're all crazy. I don't want anything to do with you!"
Jack's ring began to glow, and Astaroth's silhouette became visible even in the deep darkness.
"For your own good, I hope you learn to have good manners. Now tell me, where is he?"
"What?"
The ring glowed, and Astaroth entered my mind.
The concept of emptiness is terrifying.
Non-existence is dreadful.
Emptiness occupied existence before everything existed; in the beginning, there was nothing, and then there was God.
My consciousness faded away, I felt the void corrupting my flesh prison; it's not a lack of senses, it's Nothing.
Sounds didn't vanish; they turned into nothingness. Along with sensations, memories, my existence.
I was completely devoured. I wanted to scream, but there was no voice, no will.
I wanted to exist, but there was never an "I."
I vanished completely, and then I was catapulted back into existence, where I could feel everything.
The infinite, it destroys.
Through Astaroth's eyes, I saw, I understood, not even in a thousand and one lives could I touch one percent of the truth.
My brain burned, flooded with everything that was, everything that would come. I cried, I screamed, agony drove me to madness; time made no sense anymore.
And then everything stopped. In despair, I screamed, I cried like a child. Jack embraced me with the tenderness of a mother as I collapsed into his chest. He gently stroked my head while speaking softly.
"Poor thing, so much suffering, so much lamentation. Pain is a choice, and I don't want it for you. I love you; I love all my possessions from the bottom of my heart. I only want what's best for you, but for that, I need your help. I want your pain to stop, help me make it stop! You just need to tell me, Where. is. he?"
I didn't want to return to nothingness; I didn't want to suffer with knowledge. Desperately, I lied; I said I knew where whoever he was looking for was, I would show him, he just had to let me go.
Jack acquired a sad expression, gently lifted my face, and said.
"Oh, child, why do you lie to me?"
With the scarlet glow of the ring, once again, I ceased to exist, catapulted between two extremes, blood streaming from my ears, I laughed, cried, begged.
All to make it stop, for him to remove that being from the room, I just wanted peace.
I felt my cells giving up, exploding and restructuring; memories were erased and returned, lived a thousand times per second.
My wife, my daughter, the drugs, the betrayal, the accident, the body, the hospital, the fall.
Once again, everything stopped.
I spat blood on Jack's cloak, who asked me again.
"Where is he, come on, damn it, just tell me! He marked you, he touched you, come on, where the hell is Samael, tell me and I'll leave you alone!"
I pleaded, I tried to tell him that I didn't know who he was talking about, I promised obedience, my life, anything for mercy.
Once again, he sent me to the void. For countless nights, the cycle repeated itself, I have no idea how long I was tortured in that place.
Eventually, Jack began to use me in other ways.
My days were divided between slave labor in the lower city and nights of torment in Jack's palace.
At the time, I didn't understand how he couldn't see that he was wrong; clearly, there was nothing special about me, I couldn't lead him to Samael, I was just a damned soul who could barely endure the first days in the abyss.
I just hadn't realized that Jack already had the certainty that I was different. After all, how could I be a nobody if Astaroth couldn't extract the "truth" from me, and they had to resort to torture?
Hope vanished from my chest; I didn't know if I would ever escape from there, if I would see John again before my soul was corrupted by the Grand Duke.
The years dragged on, and Jack's fury only grew.
Fortunately for me, in my fourth year in the Silver City, I gained a new cellmate, the old man who had been brought in the same group as me.
Little did I know that he would be my first clue to the way out of there.
I'm tired of remembering those horrible years, so I think I will stop here for today.
Clinging to hope in hell is as useless as using petrol to put out a fire; you'll only end up dying either way. But in the realm of insanity, it might not be all that crazy to think there might be a way out of the suffering.

I've been doing some research about becoming a prop designer and this idea is still quite fresh but I'm also baffled that I never considered it sooner because it feels like it would be a very fulfilling career. All excitement aside, here's the thought process behind my interest in it:
I've worked in many different trades over the years and a result have accrued a very diverse skillset/tools/materials/workshop. I'm passionate about learning and am a very detail oriented person but the reason I've progressed through so many different trades as opposed to becoming an expert/veteran in one field, is because my passion for learning was always driven by the excitement of creatively solving new problems by leveraging and compounding previous skills I've learned.
But somehow, the thought of having a career that actually benefits from the approach that motivates me the most, was an idea that I discarded a long time ago.
I've even already done a freelance prop fabrication gig (I think*) and somehow still didn't consider the possibility of how well suited a full time prop making job might be for me!
But as I said, still very early days on approaching this and that's exactly why I'm posting this, I'd love to hear some thoughts, opinions, especially from people who are currently prop designers.
I've already seen some mixed opinions online from others asking about whether its worth getting into, I'm not expecting a lucrative salary and I'm aware of the possibility for unstable income especially if I focus on freelance work. I'm aware there will be strict deadlines and I know I wont get far expecting this to just be all about the fun one-off passion projects but what am I really walking into?
*Just in case anyone was wondering, the one off prop I made was a fully functional heavy duty tactical battering ram.
The reason I said "I think" is because months later I heard rumors that it was siezed by the police so it might have just been used for crime... ._.
But I really hope that wasn't the case because I was actually really proud of it. I wont post photos of it (for obvious reasons) but I did a lot of research and designed it to replicate the exact dimensions and weight of the extra heavy duty models used by SWAT teams, it had a solid high tensile steel head, the top handle was extra large and the rear handle had an ergonomic curve to extend further back for better leverage, both solid steel. It had a "weight-forward" balance (the center of gravity is just in front of the top handle) and I achieved this by progressively welding plates of pre-determined weight at specified points inside the body until the desired balance point and weight target was reached. I tested it on an old pallet before I painted it, it was great. For the record, I dont actually know who it was intended for and have no way of finding out. I was just told that someone appreciated my welding and would pay me to make a true to life SWAT style breaching ram for an amauter film production and I instantly JUMPED at the opportunity because I knew it would be fun to build and I already had all of the materials on hand. If a cop is reading this and the rumors were actually true, please! Use it!

I (F32) have a complicated situation with friends. My closest friend, Sarah (F36), and I have been tight since 2015. We had a hurdle early on, but patched things up and been incredibly supportive of each other ever since. Sarah and I were colleagues back in the day, that's how we became friends.
The issue lies with another former friend, Emily (F32). When I was unemployed for a year, things were rough. Finally, I landed a fantastic, high-paying job that involved travel with business class tickets and generous allowances. Now, get this - Emily insisted on coming along on these work trips, she might have thought I would cover her expenses, or that the company covers dependents as well since I had also received a company credit card for expenses. Let's be real, everyone knows companies only cover the employee, not their plus-ones (especially non-family). Unsurprisingly, this whole situation led to Emily suddenly disappearing from my life after I came home from a month long work trip. I reached out to her twice, with a month's gap each time, to try to sort things out and explain in case there was a misunderstanding. However, she ignored my calls and messages, so I let it go and haven't reached out again.
Fast forward to her wedding a couple of months later in the same year. Not only did she not invite me her best friend of 20 years, but she also spread rumors to our mutual friends that my boyfriend and I had borrowed a ton of money from her when they asked about me. This was completely fabricated! As someone who religiously invests 50% of my salary since my first paycheck, I've never needed to borrow money, not even from my parents, even when I was unemployed. I managed with my savings and investments, which I'd been diligently building for years.
Now, here's the dilemma. It's been two years, and Emily recently reached out to Sarah. It's important to note that Emily and Sarah are not actually friends. They only met once, and Emily never liked that I was close to people I met at work.
The first time Emily messaged Sarah, I was okay with it. Sarah said she handled it, and I figured people reach out sometimes. But the second time? Major red flags.
Knowing how Emily treated me, especially during my difficult unemployment period, the pain it caused, and the rumors she spread weren't the first time. Sarah is completely aware of this situation and also helped me heal through those days when things got difficult. More than a lover's breakup, friendship breakups can hurt the most.
Look, I can't control who Sarah talks to, but I can control my own circle. Here's the kicker - it's Sarah's birthday today, and I know she's expecting a message. Part of me wants to reach out, but the biggest part is terrified of being hurt again. I can't afford another betrayal, another round of rumors leaking from Sarah to Emily, especially knowing Sarah has people-pleasing tendencies and will be nice to anyone and everyone. Sarah even sent me a lot of long messages couple of months ago saying I was being unfair and she didn't deserve this, and that I'm letting Emily "win" by cutting her off.
But honestly, my peace is what's winning here.
So, Reddit, AITA for prioritizing my mental health and cutting Sarah off for reconnecting with Emily?

What is the minimum salary to obtain visa sponsorship for an actuarial role in the UK? Based on the link below, it is max of 38.7k and the going rate. Based on the second link, the going rate for actuaries is 48k. Hence, is it correct that the minimum salary is 48k?

1. https://www.gov.uk/skilled-worker-visa/your-job
   
2. https://www.gov.uk/government/publications/skilled-worker-visa-going-rates-for-eligible-occupations/skilled-worker-visa-going-rates-for-eligible-occupation-codes
   

Long-time member, but using my throwaway account.
I retired back in May of 2021 as a software engineer at a large tech company. My NW was about 1.3m through a combination of ridiculous tech salaries, getting lucky with a few investments, and general frugality and simple tastes.
Almost three years later, I'm still trying to figure out exactly what I'm doing. I've done some traveling, worked on a few personal projects, got in better shape, bought a house, spent a lot of time and money fixing things with the house, researched stocks, went to shows / music festivals, read a bunch of books, hiked, visited a few national parks, watched a good deal of TV / Movies, volunteered, hung out with family and friends a lot, etc. but there are a lot of hours in the day, and I often still find myself unsure of what I "should" be doing, especially during the work week when most other people are busy.
I realized that teaching people about FI and helping them achieve their financial goals is one of the things I'm always interested in doing. I created a simplified version of the spreadsheet I use to track my own FI journey to share with family and friends who are interested. Feel free to make a copy and input your own info, and please let me know if you find any issues. Some of the calculations are simplified a bit (the tax code is crazy), but generally they try to err on the side of producing more conservative estimates if they are. It doesn't have every possible scenario covered, but should hopefully at least provide a general indication of your FI progress.
I can answer questions people have about my path to FIRE if that'd be interesting to anyone, but I totally get that "get paid stupid amounts of money and save most of it" isn't very useful advice for most people. Also happy to talk more "nuts and bolts" of my situation (e.g. i don't really stick to a budget, so just using the 4% rule isn't quite as easy as I thought it would be pre FIRE) or I could talk more about the qualitative side of things if people are interested.
I'm also interested in finding people who would be interested in discussing shared interests, as most of my friends aren't as interested in FI/RE or some of my other nerdier interests like autonomous vehicles, AI, semiconductor fabrication, renewable energy, electric vehicles, robotics, science & technology, etc.
Anyway, hopefully at least the spreadsheet is useful to some people, and please let me know of any ways you think it could be improved.

Man, I am pumped to tell you chronically online content addicts my story. Wait is that too mean of an intro? Will this get taken down for harassment since I painted too accurate a picture of the people on this site? Sorry, everyone, I’m sure you all smell like an expensive bakery and have touched grass this morning. Anyway, I promise I have something interesting. It even involves the dark web you uncreative writers cream yourselves over! I mean, totally real people speaking about their strangely similar experiences. Okay, fine I’ll stop bullying you through the screen before you click off.
This all started when I was seven years old and my parents were killed in front of me in an anti-indigenous hate crime, but let's be real you don’t care. I’m just some annoying Cherokee kid with dead parents so I’ll skip to the good parts. I spent years in an orphanage, gradually becoming more interested in death and violence. As bad as it is, I went out of my way to expose myself to that content in the hopes of desensitizing myself. Which ended up working too well, since now I’m obsessed with causing and viewing pain, though I don’t find any joy in hurting myself.
I got adopted at twelve and after a few months of staying at my new family’s home on the reservation, I went with them to a state sweatier than the average Reddit user, California. Long story short, both of my caretakers, whom I referred to as Uncle and Auntie because they could never be my parents, died. Leaving me in the care of their older son, who I call cousin. I’m not stupid enough to give up any real names, so I’ll call him Brick, cause he’s as dumb as one. He was in his early 20s when he was tasked with taking care of me and is the world’s worst excuse for a babysitter.
I’m almost always alone at the apartment, with him only coming by to drop off supplies and stay for a few hours so the neighbors don’t get too worried. Unless I get in trouble at school, then he’d suddenly give a shit. It's useful because he doesn't about the gory stuff I look at, but some display of interest would be nice. Oh well, ninety percent of the population sucks so he’s just part of the majority. Now, with that said, you’ll be able to understand the perfect storm that led me here. During my time on the deep web, I found a particular website that caught my eye. They had new footage relatively consistently and they were the easiest for me to access since I didn't go too far into the dark web, especially with all the honey pots lying around.
I even bought a couple of files for myself to study and admire. One thing irritated me though, the cameraman. He was always sobbing, breathing, shaking, or some combination of those. It seriously killed the vibe of the killings. Something I commented on under many videos, often saying I would do a better job filming. A choice that in hindsight was me asking to end up in one of those recordings. I didn't think anything of it at the time. I was mostly the only one who commented but I was sure they wouldn't care. I was embarrassingly wrong.
I was staying up like usual, but it was past one AM on a school night, and back then that was a lot so I tried to sleep. Closing my eyes, tossing and turning, the works. I had just started drifting off when I heard the front door open. I remained calm but immediately found it weird since Brick never showed up this late. The thuds of the individual's feet grew louder as they got closer to my bedroom. I tried to convince myself it wasn't a stranger, especially since they got in with ease, but I knew that was wishful thinking.
They hummed as they opened my door. My dumbass had left it unlocked. I remained on my side, trying to look like I was asleep. They turned on the flashlight of their phone, shining it in my face. It was hard but I stayed still while they traced it over my features. I could tell they were smiling as they clicked their tongue.
“Heh, I knew it was a brat,” they whispered to themselves, pulling tangles out of my hair. Something I struggled not to groan from. They pulled up the hair over my ear and got so close spit got on my ear lobe.
“I know you’re awake kid,” they murmured, putting a blade to my neck. I let them grab my shoulder and move me onto my back, I knew how to fight but I wasn't about to take that big a risk with the position they had me in.
“You think you’re so cool saying you can do better than our guy.” they snickered, kneeling, their flashlight still shining in my face.
“Do you seriously believe that?” they questioned, moving the light away.
“Yeah, I do.” I stood my ground, they might have been intimidating but I wasn't gonna let that stop me from being honest.
“I wouldn't sound like I’m gonna piss myself every time it gets gory. I’m confident I could get better footage too, getting up close is something I’ve fantasized about.”
They clicked their tongue again and ran their finger over the bridge of my nose.
”Well, I know you’re a big fan of what we do, and you’re confidence makes me think you got something to back those claims up, so how’d you like a deal?”
I was surprised by how civil they were being aside from the touching and weapon against my throat.
“What kind of deal?” I asked, for all I knew this guy wanted me to lick their feet or some weird shit like that. They placed a finger underneath my eye, tracing a half moon with their nail.
“You have till this Friday to film a video of you killing an animal and put it on a flash drive that I’ll pick up here. If it impresses me and the crew we’ll hire ya with a handsome salary.” They began, moving their hand down to my cheek.
“But if you don't show, or it doesn't meet our standards, then I’m fucking up one of the parts of your face.” They warned, pinching my skin harshly.
“And if I say no to this deal?”
They put their hand over my mouth, scratching my lips.
“That’s cute, if you say no I’ll just slit your throat.” they grinned.
“Or rip it open with my teeth if you got a preference,” they smirked, before running their tongue across their sharp teeth.
“Okay, since I have no choice I’ll go with it, but I’m telling you now I can give you something way better than what you likely expect of me.” I prefaced, looking into their sunken eyes. They scratched my scalp, including the side of my head that was shaved.
“Good choice, I’ll be back to pick it up and if you're not here I’ll assume you don’t have the video. I genuinely wish you luck, because you’ll need it.” they removed the blade from my neck and walked away. I sat still for a few minutes in the dark, processing what had happened and wondering how they got into my apartment with such ease. I was confident I could blow their sniveling excuse of a cameraman out of the water, but I was worried about the people I was getting caught up with.
Sure, I had been on a lot of gore sites over the years but I was always just watching and occasionally commenting. Compared to most in the scene I wasn't much of a threat. I could defend myself and have contemplated killing for years but I hadn't murdered anyone or worse. Plus, I am part of way too many targeted groups to not be constantly at risk. Teenage, fem-leaning, two-spirit, indigenous kid with trauma? Yeah, I might as well be walking sign screaming “Hate crime me”.
So yeah, there was a lot to worry about. Regardless, I couldn't let that fear hold me back. I had a job to do and a group of sickos to appease. The next morning was rough, I got no sleep cause I’d spent all night brainstorming. I barely mustered the energy to change and drank straight mouthwash instead of brushing my teeth. Slogging onto the bus with drool on my cheek, I went to the back like usual. No one sat there cause, the seats were extra worn down, and I scared off anyone who attempted to with my active, rabies-infected bitch face. That day was different though.
I blanked on his name and where I knew him from, but I recognized his wavy hair and prominent curved nose. He glanced at each seat on the bus, before somehow settling on my area. He tried to give me space but ultimately seated himself beside me after realizing it was the only spot that didn't look like it would give him cancer. I glared at him as I did with everyone, but it didn't phase him.
“You know you could pick anywhere else right?” I murmured. He stared at the floor, then at me.
“I’m aware, but a few months ago I started a mission to sit on every part of this bus, and this is the last place.” he smiled, his lips softly curving at the sides.
“What’s the point of that?”
His mouth moved into a more neutral position, but his eyes kept smiling.
“I just thought it would be neat to see the same place from a bunch of different perspectives.” he took out his phone and snapped a photo from the point of view where he was sitting. Maybe my sleepiness made my bitch face less effective, cause he hadn't shown a hint of fear, which kind of annoyed me.
“That’s cool I guess, but I wouldn't do that if I were you. I’ve done some back here alone that would make your skin crawl.” in hindsight my attempt at unnerving him just made me sound like a pervert, which is probably why he held back laughter. Trying to hide a chuckle by clearing his throat.
“Hey, it's not my business what you do, no matter how Haram it is. It’s your life so that’s between you and whatever you believe in. Just don’t shake hands with me.” he joked, playfully putting his hands up. Strangely, I remembered his name at that moment.
“Oh shit, you’re Abdul! We have art together.” I sat up, haphazardly slamming my hand down on my leg.
“Uh yeah, I’ve seen some of your paintings, they’re pretty cool. I like the way you texture them, I’m trying to work on that.” he complimented, seeming more weirded out by my sudden energy than my accidental insinuation. I felt a little stupid for yelling his name but decided not to dwell on it.
“Thanks, you’re stuff is nice, and you’re good at shading.”
He stretched his arms while thanking me. We talked for a few more minutes, taking jabs at each other throughout. Turns out he was better at being an asshole than his artsy charismatic appearance made me think. The thing setting our insults apart being that you could tell he was a loving person underneath. It was the nicest conversation I had with anyone in a while. Though he could tell I was tired so he quieted down, letting me sleep, waking me when we got to school. We went our separate ways until the last two periods we shared. All that time, I spent my remaining energy plotting how I was going to handle the video. What I’d kill, record with, and how to dispose of the evidence. It was a lot to consider, but through three classes I devised a plan.
I’d find a stray around my apartment complex and take it out in my room. Record it on a portable camera since I broke the ones on my phone, no, I will not be answering how that happened. Then once I had my footage I’d put the body in a trash bag, throw it in the complex’s garbage, and clean the blood off my floor. It didn't seem like Brick would come by so he wasn't a factor I thought I’d have to consider. The plan was almost too easy, but I decided to believe in Occam’s razor. I got so lost in thought that by the time I reached Art, which was my second-to-last period, I didn't process that we were moving seats.
“She called your name,” Abdul reminded me. Our teacher placed us next to each other at our four-person table. The two girls sitting with us were already friends, so I didn't bother to say anything, but I was interested in talking to him more.
“So, what do you think of this assignment?” He shrugged, taking out his sketchbook.
“I’m not that good at drawing people, but the idea of combining two people’s faces into a portrait seems interesting. Any ideas on who you’ll pick?”
“Probably the members of the music duo Brain Tumor, they’re my favorite artists and they both look weird as hell.”
“Wow way to talk about your favorites, if that’s what you say about them I can‘t imagine what you have to say about me.” he joked, pulling up reference pictures.
“First, it’s not an insult, second I don’t have anything to say about you. Brain and Tumor have features and styles that make them stand out. Sure they’re ugly, but it just adds to their visual charm. Hot people are boring, there’s nothing to pick at.” I explained, unzipping my bag.
“Oh, so you’re saying you think I’m hot.”
His comment wasn’t serious but it kind of got to me.
“Shit, that’s not what I meant, I was trying to say you’re boring. All hot people are boring, but not all boring people are hot, okay?” I explained, flipping to a clean page.
“Alright, but if I’m so bland then why talk to me?”
I hesitated, contemplating how much of a dick I was gonna be.
“Because it means you probably need some spice in your life, which I can provide.”
He began sketching a head on his paper.
“I like spices, but I feel like you’re the kind of person to dump a cabinet’s worth onto me.”
I flicked my pencil over to his side of the desk, putting on a mocking grin.
“Aww, you scared I’m gonna get you into trouble?”
He picked up the pencil and started using it, putting his on my side.
“No, ‘cause I’m good at setting boundaries. I’m more concerned that you’ll get annoyed with how unafraid of you I am.”
I stared at him for a moment, I hadn't expected to hear that.
“Jeez, man you didn't have to read me like that.”
He shrugged, observing the red paint from past projects that lay on my pencil.
“It's not hard to figure out, just this morning you were trying to push me away on the bus. Lucky, or unlucky, for you I want you to have a friend and you seem like a fun person.”
“Wait are you saying I have no friends?” I squinted at him.
“Well, do you?”
I didn't answer.
“If your response is silence I suggest you take up my offer.”
I was stunned, to be honest. No one had offered to be my friend since 6th grade, and that didn't last long. Of course, I accepted it, but for the rest of the period, there was an awkwardness in my mind. As pathetic as it sounds I wasn't used to others genuinely enjoying my company like he did. Which was partly by design cause I get joy out of scaring people away, but still. I forgot how it felt to have conversations about normal things like art. He had such a nice smile too, usually when I see a grin I want to slap it off, but I liked his. His voice was also nice, it’s hard to describe what in particular but it was easy on the ears.
Okay, I’m starting to get off-topic. I’ll skip to the important part. Toward the end of class, he started talking about how he was interested in filmmaking and got a portable video camera as a gift at last year’s Eid. He didn't have it on him, but he showed me a picture.
“Heh, that’s funny, I bought the same one a month ago.” I pointed out.
“Yeah, it's a popular model, I’m still getting the hang of it though cause I’m so used to using my phone.”
“Well, maybe I could bring you over to my place or vice versa after school and I can help you out.” I suggested.
He smiled, putting his phone back in his pocket.
“I thought you said you’ve only had it for a month? You know I can always look up tutorials from trained professionals.” he reminded me with a notable smugness that I'd used with him before.
“Well those guys are stuffy and I’m a fast learner.”
He redirected his attention back to his page, picking his pencil up.
“Alright, I suggest we go somewhere public instead. You’re not exactly the kind of person I want to bring home to my parents right away. Plus they always need to meet my friends and their guardians before I hang out at their home.”
I gave an exaggerated sigh, stretching my back.
“Aw man, looks like we can’t get high in my murder pit during our first hangout.”
He didn't respond for a solid few seconds.
“Wait, you do know I'm joking right?”
He shrugged, the smile in his eyes appearing again.
“I mean, one of those things is a little less believable than the other.” he snickered, and I laughed with him.
We set up a time and a date, which is where I screwed myself. He ended up being busy with projects from his other classes and family which just left us with Friday, the same day I had to submit the video. Now, did I tell him I wouldn't be able to make it? No, of course not, because I decided to be stupid and even more overconfident. I said that I’d one hundred percent be able to hang out with him after school like I didn't have a mutilator who was going to drop by my place at an unknown time.
The rest of the day went over fine but that bad timing led me to feel like a dick later. When I got home I was able to write out my plan, even sketching a few specifics of what I’d do. It was more exciting than when I’d been brainstorming, but this is when the gravity of the situation began to set in. When I said I’d fantasized about killings I meant it. I mean my teddy with twenty-five stab wounds should say enough. Regardless this would be the first time real blood was on my hands.
It made me feel powerful, but a little afraid. I’ve heard stories of people thinking that it would be an awesome experience and then feeling like shit. I doubted I’d be one of those people but still. Plus, I didn't exactly trust the guy who gave me this job. There was a good chance that this whole situation was rigged and they’d kill me no matter how good the video was. Or worse turn me into the feds and expose my collection. Honestly, if that happened I’d probably eat a shot to avoid going to jail. Wait, can I say that on this platform? Okay to the mods, that was a joke, I want to live a long life. Ugh, I’m doing a terrible job of staying on track. The point is there was a lot up in the air despite it being a matter of life or death.
I knew I’d go through with it but it was still a lot less straightforward than it initially seemed. I wracked my brain to remember where most of the cats stayed and tried to come up with a good way to lure one without raising suspicion. This also proved harder than first thought because I didn't think to account for the cat man, an old guy who lived alone and fed all the cats in our dingy complex while also housing a few. Knowing how obsessive he was he’d probably notice if one of them disappeared. Then again not all the cats return consistently or at all. It makes more sense that he’d think one of them was run over rather than slaughtered. It was getting late again so I rested my head for a moment, a bad move cause I ended up falling asleep at my desk. Not even changing out of the clothes I’d worn before, I woke up late and barely caught the bus the next morning.
I went to my usual spot but Abdul had already taken it. He patted the area next to it, which he’d covered in a towel, a smart move knowing how nasty it was. People gave me a few dirty looks as normal, which I smiled at. I stretched, my mind slightly less out of it than the previous morning.
“Uh, you do realize that-”
“Yeah, I know I’m wearing the same clothes.”
Abdul looked me up and down, his eyes remaining soft, but with a mix of concern and judgment. He set his backpack down and took off his sweater handing it to me.
“Dude what are you-”
“Look I don't know what led to you not being able to change but I think you should at least have a fresh top.”
I was surprised he was offering me something to wear but I took it.
“Uh, thanks, I’ll change into it later.”
He nodded as I put it in my backpack.
“You know you didn't have to do that.” I reminded him.
“Well there’s a lot of stuff I don’t have to do, but I do it because I want to, and I wanted to help you out.”
He smiled, his face still warmer than an Arizona summer. I got a strange feeling in my chest at that moment, I still can’t tell if it was good or bad.
“Well, thanks, I'll give it back to you tomorrow.”
We talked a little more and he mentioned something that caught my attention.
“Have you heard about all the animals that have been turning up dead?”
My eyes widened with surprise.
“No, I haven't, when did you hear about that?”
He pulled on his long-sleeve shirt.
“My sister said her friend who works at a shelter noticed a bunch of animals were getting adopted by people around the same time, and since then gore videos with them have been showing up. She found out through her co-worker who was emailed it by some random creep.”
I covered my mouth and looked away to hide the smile growing on my face. He had just given me the perfect cover-up without knowing. Now if I killed an animal people had an entire violent ring to connect it to instead of me! I stayed quiet for a minute because I could tell he’d likely see through any phony sad sounds I made.
“Oh wow, that’s awful, do you think they’ll ever find out the people behind it?”
He sighed, running his hand through his wavy hair.
“I hope so, for now, all we can do is pray that no more animals get hurt.”
I couldn't contain my grin as he said that so sincerely like animals and people didn't die constantly and that taking down one group would somehow stop the issue.
“Is there some joke I don’t get?” he furrowed his brow.
“Uh, no, sorry I smile when nervous.”
His gaze softened again, and he didn't press further.
His bringing up the animal killings ended up being the exact push I needed to get my hands dirty. I’d spent the entire day before planning so it was time to put that plan into action. I stole some cat treats that the cat man had laid out and spread them around my apartment which was on the bottom floor. Waiting for one of them to take the bate outside my window was pretty boring but one of them came after a few minutes. A scraggly brown and black cat with a tuft of fur missing on one side of his head. It's messed up but I felt like a little less of an asshole for taking him in since he looked like he was already struggling. I scooped him up and he didn't attempt to fight back.
“Hey there buddy” I waved, feeding him some more food. His eyes had a lot of crust on them, it was kinda gross but I don’t have the right to say with how often I wash my jeans. After a minute or two he let me pet him. I knew making any kind of attachment was bad but I thought it was the right thing to do so he’d fall into a sense of security. I was just about to take him into my room when the door opened.
“Hey, I’m back with groceries!” my shithead cousin announced with two plastic bags in his hands. He looked down to see me with the cat, his eyebrows raising.
“Aw come on, you know we can’t afford a pet.”
He groaned placing the bags on a table and unloading them.
“I know, but he doesn't look like he’s got a lot of life in him I at least want to help him feel better before he kicks the bucket!”
Brick rolled his eyes, putting the cereal box on top of the fridge
“Jeez, did you even think about what diseases he might have? His eyes look puffy what if he has something that can get you sick?”
He had valid concerns which was surprising since he’s usually stupid, but I was still annoyed with him.
“I’m sure he’s fine, I’ll even try to wash him, just please let me hold onto him for a little.”
He folded his arms looking down at us.
“Have you even named him?”
I froze for a second, before using the first thing that came to mind, which ended up being pretty awful knowing my plans.
“Cash cow.” I blurted, awkwardly patting his head.
“Honestly that’s better than what I was expecting. I was sure you’d pick ‘Hellspawn Mcgee’ or something else corny.”
He meant to make fun of me but honestly, I would have named him that if I had more time.
“Ugh, anyway I got those dumb chips you like.”
He then pulled out a bag of the wrong chips.
“Dude those are the wrong ones, this is the third time you’ve mixed up the flavors.”
He threw them at me, scaring the cat slightly.
“Well, I pay for it so you shouldn't be so picky. Anyway, while I was in line I picked up something you might be into.”
He then tossed me a trashy teen magazine. One of my least favorite sorry excuses for an influencer on the cover.
“This is a joke, right?”
I couldn't believe my own adopted brother gave such little shit in my interests.
“I don't know, you decided to start being a girl for real this time so I thought the makeup tips on page ten would help you out.”
I scrunched my face at his comment.
“Dude I’ve been this way for years, just because I started wearing more makeup and dresses doesn't mean I’m more of a girl than when I didn't. I know you won’t get the two-spirit thing but come on.”
He shrugged, seeing me done with me even though he’d just shown up.
“Yeah well hey I’m trying. Anyway, just so you know a friend of mine is coming here Friday.”
My heart stopped.
“Wait why here? You live elsewhere why can’t you assholes go there or their place!”
He slammed his fist on the table.
“Will you shut the fuck up!”
He screamed with a phrase I’d grown numb to.
“I don't know, to be honest, something about wanting to move into this complex and this being a way to scout it out. I’m just letting you know now so you don’t act like a complete freak.”
“Jokes on you I’ll piss in whatever shitty beer you bring just cause you said that!”
I yelled back raising my voice higher than his. He face-palmed before putting the plastic bags in the drawer under the sink.
“Whatever, you and your ketamine-addict-looking cat have fun,” he told me while seating himself on the couch. I picked up the cat and walked into the bathroom to clean it. I closed the door and placed him in the dry tub. Using a small disposable mouthwash cup I got a little bit of water. I hadn't had a pet before so I wasn't sure how to approach the task. I dipped my fingers in the water and carefully pet it while pouring s small bit down his back. Any other cat would fight back but he just made pissed-off noises without doing anything.
I scrapped my old shampoo bottle and kneaded it into his thin fur. His skin was bumpy and dry beneath the hair so scrubbing it was uncomfortable. I made sure to avoid getting soap in its eyes but I did pull away some of the crust on its lids. His pupils were so clouded I was surprised that he could see at all, making me feel even more sure that he would be on its way out with or without me.
After drying him I set him on a beat-up shirt I wore when modifying clothes. He sunk his claws into it a few times, playing with a loose string. I ignored him for the rest of the night, hopping into the shower and changing for bed. His meows woke me up a few times but I tuned it out after a while, reminding myself that he wouldn’t be my cat for long.
The next day was Thursday and there wasn't a second that passed by where the weight of the murder I’d have to commit didn't weigh on me. I seriously shot myself in the foot by taking care of that scruffy, pubic hair pile. I was supposed to be hyped about killing it, after all, I’d dreamed and seen way worse than what I was going to do. Yet once I got home and started setting up I felt grosser with each step. I decided to record it in my bathroom instead of my bedroom so it would be harder to connect to me. I set down a few fabric scraps and a worn-out beach towel, placing it all inside a tub for easier cleanup later.
“Okay, I guess it's time,” I mumbled to myself. I brought the cat in and placed it down, setting up my camera once it was comfortable. I also wore my most generic clothes in addition to a mask, putting my hair in a bun for sanitation. When I saw the flicker of red showing that the camera was on I felt I was dreaming. I smiled, excited that I’d get to live out my violent desires. Yet, when I looked down at its pathetic frame and confused expression those urges left me.
I rationalized what I was doing, reminding myself how many animals die all the time and that I’d been forced into this, but it didn't help much in the end. I won’t get into it but under the pressure of impressing the group Cash Cow didn't go out as fast as I would have liked for a first task. Getting rid of the evidence was especially rough, the textures were pretty nasty, to put it mildly. It was surreal watching the blood go down the tub drain and gradually drip off my hands as I rinsed them. I couldn't conjure a single thought the entire time I cleaned it up.
Whether I was wringing out the clothes or putting the remains in plastic bags, it didn't matter. All I could focus on was the task at hand, with hints of disgust along the way. I ended up finishing at three AM. My hands were wrinkled and shook once I settled. I won’t deny that during the murder I didn't hate it. Slashing into something was fun and it made me feel strong. Still, it wasn't nearly as fulfilling as I expected it to be. Part of it was guilt, but it was mostly disappointment. I’d built it up for years and it wasn't earth shatteringly good or bad.
Overall, I expected to feel more, but it just left me hollow with an uncomfortable itch. There was no way I’d ever be able to see the tub the same way, hell I don’t think I’ll ever use it again. Luckily I almost always shower anyway so it's not too big of a deal. I watched a few horror game videos, trashed everything, changed and went to bed.
My scalp hurt like a bitch the morning since I kept my hair in that stupid bun. Despite getting less sleep than the past two days I held myself together a bit better in the morning. I brushed my teeth, changed, and had some fried bread before getting on the bus. Regardless I looked like complete shit and struggled to slump into my seat.
“Rough night?” Abdul asked
“Uh, yeah.” I quietly responded looking to the floor.
He frowned, looking at me with concern.
“You can talk about it if you're comfortable,” he assured me. I contemplated giving him a thinly veiled metaphor or vague explanation so he'd comfort me but stopped myself before my mouth could run a muck. He wouldn't be able to do much of anything and I don’t like opening up.
“Uhm, thanks but it's something I have to deal with alone.”
He nodded, respecting my boundaries.
“You know, I understand if you can’t hang out today it seems like you have a lot going on.”
I avoided eye contact with him as he spoke. For once I was feeling hints of guilt toward a person. I wanted to spend time with him, but I knew that I wasn't in the state to do that.
“Yeah, I think it’ll have to wait, I’m-” I cut myself off before apologizing. A fact about me that should surprise no one is that I hate apologizing. Even when I do feel kinda bad the act fills me with embarrassment.
“You what?” he asked, his eyes telling me that he knew what I was going to say.
“I’m emotionally not great.” I spat out in an admittedly poor attempt to get out of saying sorry. As always he remained calm but I could tell he saw through me.
“Okay, like I said I understand, whatever it is I hope you feel better.”
I told him thank you and we didn't speak for the rest of the day. At home I changed into more comfortable clothes and brushed my teeth. Unfortunately, I wasn't bouncing back from killing nearly as much as I expected.
“It wasn't even that bad! That thing was on its last legs anyway.” I grumbled to myself, smacking my forehead. I was feeling worse than when I did it which is weird. I ended up spontaneously decorating a ratty tie from the bottom of an accessory drawer to distract myself. It helped me get my mind off things, for a little. I had zero plan, just wanting to make something needlessly complex. Hours that felt like minutes passed and soon it was covered in patches, frills, and beads. I just tried it on when I heard the front door open.
“Man, that shit was wild!” I heard Brick laugh groggily. I didn't have to see or smell him to know he’d gotten lit. I rolled my eyes, closing my bedroom door.
“Hey, who’s there?” his friend asked, seemingly referring to me.
“Oh, that’s my little sis, don’t mind her she’s just on her emo shit!” he joked, which pissed me off for the petty reason that I didn't even listen or dress emo.
“Hey, that’s alright with me, I went through one of those phases,” they responded, their words less slurred than my cousin’s.
I fucked up and forgot to lock it when I closed it so they were able to swing it open, almost smacking my desk.
“Hey emo girl!” they waved as Brick haphazardly pulled them back.
“Okay, man, seriously I think she wants to be left alone.”
The way his friend looked at me made me uncomfortable. Like they’d snap my neck if I pissed them off. They clicked their tongue while stepping through the door frame.
“Alright, but I gotta say calling her an emo is inaccurate, they look like they watch gore and most emos just say they do.” they flashed a sharp toothy grin. At that moment I began to connect the dots.
“Easy, she’ll get pissy with you dude, now come on.” Brick warned tugging their opened button pushed him away. They looked me dead in the eyes.
“I don’t think she minds, in truth, I feel like we’ll have a lot to discuss later.” they smiled again, finally walking back into the living room. A chill ran up my spine when I saw them. The sharp teeth, New York accent, unsettling gaze, that motherfucker was the person who recruited me! They were able to get into my place so easily cause my dumbass cousin probably gave them a spare key or the opportunity to make one, and now they were a room away from me!
I dug my hands into my pillow as I contemplated what to do, no matter what happened next, I knew it was gonna be a rough visit.

So a while back my laptop died and I lost all my save files (including one where I had been slowly remaking all the townies and EA builds 😭) and screenshots and since I have been reluctant to play the game at all, particularly because I was fully invested in a particular family of mine and I'm devastated no record of them exists anymore. However the other day I was admiring the flowers that are starting to bloom where I live and I had a flash of inspiration to make a legacy based on the meaning of flowers. So I sat down and wrote it one in nearly one sitting (with a break for dinner).
Now I made this specifically for myself, including packs I own (only Horse Ranch, City Living, and Spa Day are actually needed for this), putting in options of packs I hope to buy in the future where I thought they could fit, and based on the way I play (so guidelines are more story based than challenge based) but I still wanted to share it in case anyone else was interested. If you are interested/inspired by it in anyway, feel free to play it fast and loose with the rules - I really made it to be fun for me personally so whatever changes, cheats, or tweaks help it work for you go at it!
I also have to shout out the Sims in Bloom challenge, because while mine is not based off of this challenge in anyway, it is one that I have had bookmarked for a while as looking fun to play and is based on the same/similar concept as mine. If the idea of a flower based legacy intrigues you check that one out- there is a base game version as well!
Now without further ado:
Sims 4 Floral Legacy Challenge:
Gen 1: Bluebell
-humble beginnings and everlasting love-
Choose one of more of these traits: generous, good, loyal
Career: something that means humility to you - ideas: education, gardener, barista/babysitteother part time careers, self employed by selling collectibles
Aspiration: Soulmate
Style: any, but live whole life in a small home (not necessarily by the game's standard but no more than 3 bedrooms), blue should be a main color, stay away from pricey furniture as well
You are a simple sort of sim. All you ever wanted is a place to call home and someone to love. Moving to a new place was scary, but you think you are starting to figure it out. However, things get a little more complicated when a choice you make on a lonely night results in a surprise pregnancy. Even though you aren't sure you're ready for single parenthood, you are going to give it your best shot, you already love the kid to bits after all. Luckily, your kind neighbor is there to help out. Wait, they're kind of cute...
-Start on an empty lot or in an unfurnished house with 0 simoleons
-Recommended: live in willow creek
-Make money to build/furnish your house through your career
-Have a child from a one night stand with someone you meet at a public lot before your house is fully finished (this is the next gen heir).
-Never date your child's other parent but optionally remain good friends.
-Err on the side of leniency as a parent (e.g. if you have parenthood, hug it out to discipline your kid, use the permissive family dynamic from growing together).
-Fall and love and get married to one of your neighbors, completing the soulmate aspiration. Stay together in a happy marriage until death.
-Optional: have 1-2 more kids with your spouse
-Until you switch to the next gen, go on at least one date every week with your spouse.
Gen 2: Crocus
-playful childishness-
Recommended Traits: lazy, goofball, outgoing, family oriented, childish, cheerful
Career: any except entertainer - do not reach level 10 in your career, continually neglect work tasks and goof off/socialize at work to lower work performance if need be - optional (or if laid off): switch careers several times
Aspiration: Big happy family - optional: if you have high school years you can complete the live fast aspiration as a teen
Style: any as long as its casual, shouldn't look too put together, t-shirts would be good
As a kid you were loved and admittedly somewhat spoiled by your doting parent. At times you neglected your responsibilities and your homework preferring to goof off with your many friends. Growing up... well, you never really did that did you? You did eventually get a job (even though you aren't the best employee) and you gave dating the old college try as well. Unfortunately, just like working, being in a relationship doesn't seem to come easily to you... Luckily though there is something you're good at: parenting. Being part kid yourself, you find it easily to connect to your many kids and you're always ready to cheer them up with a laugh when they are feeling down. That, at least, is something worth devoting your time too.
-Neglect homework as a child (optional: age up with the irresponsible trait if you have parenthood) but have several friends at school
-Perform poorly in a career of your choice (NOT entertainer) - do not reach level 10 in any career (if you get close, lower job performance or quit and start a new job)
-Live in childhood home until parents die or until you have too many kids for everyone to fit
-Get divorced from / break up with every partner you have (your choice how many people to date, but must die single)
-Have 3-6 kids - at least one should be adopted and one should be biologically yours but the exact ratio is up to you
-Be best friends level with all kids
-max out comedy skill
-Complete happy family aspiration (may require temporarily returning to this gen after some kids are adults)
-Optional: whenever someone leaves the household, get a pet so the household is continually at 8 members (the idea of this gen is chaos after all)
Gen 3: Dahlia
-creativity and true love-
Required traits: noncommital, Recommended: creative, maker, art lover, green fiend
Career: Something creative - recommended: making money through painting or fabrication or photography
Aspiration: Any in the creativity category (or the jewelry one, which is IMO creative but not in that category)
Style: Colorful and eclectic, feature warm colors and travel nick knacks, bohemian
You grew up in a chaotic but joyful home surrounded by your siblings and raised by a parent who loved and accepted you as you were. Your creativity was able to bloom and flourish in this environment and you learned the value and power of familial love. However, you never quite understood romance in the same way as you watched your parent struggle to maintain a loving relationship. In high school you found someone special, but your relationship was too important to put through the trials of romance. You maintained your friendship into adulthood as you followed your passions into a career and your heart into several (failed) relationships, all the while standing by each other. Then one day you realized, what if this elusive goal of romantic love had been right besides you all along?
-Complete the creatively gifted aspiration as a kid
-Briefly (briefly) date your best friend in high school, then decide to be just friends (option in social menu) Maintain friendship (remaining just friends) into your young adulthood and adulthood, spending lots of time together.
-Have a creative job and max out your career / chosen creative skill
-Get married and divorced at least once and date and break up with at least 3 people total
-Have at least one kid
-After a midlife crisis start a relationship with your best friend and get married - this time stay together until death do us part (optional: at this point swap out the non commital trait with the loyal trait via cheats or self discovery moment)
-Go on vacation at least twice with your family and your best friend/best friend's family
Gen 4: (white) Lily
-beauty, mourning, and rebirth-
Recommended traits: gloomy, romantic
Career: something you associate with beauty - ideas: actoactress, style influencer, social media
Aspiration: any - ideas: soulmate, world famous celebrity, master actoactress
Style: classic, somewhat minimalistic, elegant (think Kennedys)
Growing up in an artistic household, you quickly developed a keen eye and a strong asethetic and sense of style. Unlike your parent however, you were very interested in what was popular. You built your knowledge of trends and used it to cultivate your own look until it became your passion, and ultimately your career. You were becoming quite successful, loving your job more and more every day, when you met... them. The love of your life. You remembered watching your parent dance around their love all their life, and had seen how much time they wasted because of it. You weren't going to make the same mistake. You had a whirlwind romance, engagement, and marriage that grew into a stable, enduring love. You had everything, a great career, a wonderful relationship, and you and your spouse had just welcomed a child when tragedy struck. And now, without your love, you don't know what to do. How will you go on?
-Enter and max out a career that is associated with beauty
-Optional: if you have get famous, become a celebrity with a good reputation
-Meet your spouse through your career
-Date, get engaged to, and marry your spouse quickly (within 1-2 sim weeks)
-Have a relationship with your spouse at the soulmate level
-Have exactly one kid with your spouse
-Before your kid is a teen, your spouse dies
-Mourn your spouse for the rest of your life (at least 3 times weekly visit grave/urn) and never get into another romantic relationship
-Optional: after spouse's death, change outfits to be all black for mourning colors (or what ever mourning colors are in your culture)
-Neglect child emotionally because of your sadness (less than good friends level friendship)
-Repair relationship with child after they move out and your grandchildren are born (they return the spark to your life)
Gen 5: Dandelion
-resilience and recovery-
Required trait: horse lover Optional: active, loves the outdoors, adventurous
Career: Rancheself employed
Required aspiration: championship rider
Style: western, rustic farmhouse decor, country
You grew up in the midst of a tragedy. All you remember is the dark cloud that seemed to surround your parent everywhere they went and the loneliness that came from all but raising yourself. As soon as you could, you got away, following your heart to the countryside. In the picturesque small town of chestnut ridge you built your own life, learning to ride the horses you had grown up loving, and making a living by building a ranch. The solitude of nature was like a balm to your wounded soul. Eventually, you fell for one of the locals and got hitched. They moved in to help grow your ranch and before long you were building a family as well. As you discovered the joys of parenthood, it brought your mind back to your own parent, and you started to wonder if those bonds could be reformed...
-move out to Chestnut Ridge as soon as you become a young adult
-Complete the championship rider aspiration and max out the riding skill
-Fall in love with an marry a sim you meet in Chestnut ridge with the rancher trait
-Have 2-4 kids with your spouse
-Optional: name one of your kids after your deceased parent
-After your first kid is a toddler, start to reconcile with your parent (inviting them over to meet grandkids)
-build back your friendship with your parent before they pass (good friends level or higher)
-run a thriving ranch
Gen 6: (red) Carnation
-justice-
Recommended traits: good, hot headed, self assured
Career: Politics, charity organizer branch
Aspiration: any - ideas: neighborhood confident, city native
Style: any - alt fashion would work well, esp. punk, dark colors with red accents also good
Life as a child in the countryside was idyllic, but you always had bigger dreams. Bright eyed and with a zest for life you moved to the city as soon as you could. But once there, your idealistic nature quickly shattered. The world wasn't as nice outside of your small town bubble. Rather than fall into despair over it however, you decided to rise to the occasion. You would dedicate your life to fighting for change and making the world a better place. Even if it was just a drop in the bucket, you would do everything you could to make a difference. After all, what better way to spend your time than speaking truth to power?
-move to San Myshuno as a young adult
-Join and max out the charity organizer career
-meet your spouse at a protest
-fall in love and move in together, but don't get married
-adopt at least one kid (can have bio children as well)
-join or start a protest at least once a week
-have at least one wealthy enemy (bonus points if they are in the politician career or a landlord)
-Optionally: have a midlife crisis / burnout (via growing together mechanics or imaginative storytelling) during adulthood and change your life around (stay in same career, but protest less and pick up a hobby, spend more time with family)
Gen 7: Iris
-intelligence and prestige-
Required trait: genius Optional traits: perfectionist, ambitious, neat, overachiever, loner, hates children, bookworm
Career: something you associate with intelligence - ideas: doctor, scientist, law, engineer, astronaut
Recommended aspiration: any in the knowledge group or bestselling author Optional: complete the goal oriented aspiration as a teen and the academic aspiration as a young adult
Style: academia (dark or light), traditional, have at least one library / study in the home
Your parents were smart people, you'll give them that, but they didn't care enough to do anything with it! They could have been something great, but instead they decided to waste their time fighting for 'justice' without making any real change. You wouldn't be making that mistake. From an early age you dedicated yourself to your studies, determined to learn everything you possibly could and become someone important. Learning fascinated you, and you loved using your intelligence to figure out solutions to hard problems. This was what was important, not love, or family, or doing good, or whatever other nonsense your parents and grandparents believed. This was how you really changed the world, intelligently. Now just to get that one coworker of yours to stop pestering you at work and challenging your ideas. Wait, why do they want to meet you for coffee?
-Complete the mental aspiration as a child
-Enter and max out a career related to intelligence - optionally: then switch careers and max out a second
-max out at least four skills of your choice, writing and publishing skill books related to them as you do so (this may require you to max out the writing skill, if so this counts towards your four skills)
-Date and marry one of your coworkers who also has the genius trait (bonus points if this is a former workplace rival)
-Have exactly one child with your spouse via the science baby option
-Be a strict parent (maintain this family dynamic if you have growing together) and be emotionally distant from your kid (less than good friends friendship level ideally)
-If you have discover university, attend university and complete the academic aspiration before beginning a career
Gen 8: Lotus
-rebirth and self-love-
Required trait: high maintenance Recommended: perfectionist
Career: start in something you see as a high stress job - ideas: salary person, business, anything that uses the logic skill - then switch to making money via spa day activities
Aspiration: any or all in the wellness category
Style: minimalist, biophilic (plant parent), 'zen'
To say your parents had high expectations growing up would be putting it lightly. Nothing you ever did seemed good enough for them. Even so, you continued to try, pushing yourself towards excellent grades and into a career (and relationship) they would approve of. It was hard but you were managing it, and you kept pushing and pushing until... One day you just couldn't do it anymore! You quit your job, ended your relationship and changed trajectories. Now you are focused on healing and self-love, and on helping others on their self love journey as well. It might take some time, but you are learning to be happy with yourself. Next, to start building a new family, one you'll be happy to be a part of.
-maintain an "A" level grade throughout your education
-Enter a high stress career as a young adult
-Start a relationship with someone in a 'respectable' career as a young adult (you decide what counts as 'respectable') - if you have growing together you should have bad compatibility with this person
-sometime during young adulthood (bonus if after in game burnout) while your sim is feeling badly (tense, angry, uncomfortable, or sad), quit your job and end your relationship
-Optional: before this switch dress and decorate in your parents style, afterwards, change to your own style
-Switch to a wellness career - continue this until retirement
-max out wellness skill
-complete at least one of the wellness aspirations
-marry someone you meet at the spa
-have 1-3 children with them
Gen 9: Lavender
-family and home-
Required trait - at least one of three: loner, paranoid, socially awkward Recommended traits: family oriented, foodie, loves the outdoors, animal enthusiast
Career: make money through cooking and/or baking - this can involve running a bakery, the culinary career, or using the food stall from home chef hustle OR be a stay at home parent and partner makes money
Choose one or more of the following aspirations: Appliance whiz, master chef, country caretaker, super parent
Style: French country, cottage core, pastels
You grew up in a peaceful and tranquil home with caring and kind parents. Lucky for you because as it turns out - the rest of the world? Not so peaceful. Being outside your home and surrounded by strangers was always stressful for you, and as you grew up you learned to retreat towards the things you knew: your family, your pets, and the delicious things you loved to cook. Another support for you was always your best friend turned love; you've promised to stay by each other's side through thick and thin and you can wait to build a home together. Will these supports help you get through the stresses of adulthood? Will be able to find a build a home that's peaceful and safe for your new family? Only time will tell...
-From teenagehood to death have at least one pet at all times (including non household animals like cows)
-Marry your childhood best friend / high school sweetheart and stay together until death do us part
-max out the cooking skill (and baking if you have get to work)
-have 3-5 kids with your spouse
-maintain best friends level friendship with all kids, spouse, and any cats or dogs you have
-don't maintain friendships with anyone outside the household (this can change when you switch to playing sunflower gen if need be)
-make sacked lunches for all family members at least twice a week
-Make money through food (chef career, bakery, or food stall) OR be a stay at home parent
-Recommended: live in Henford-on-Bagley
-Max out one or more of the following aspirations: Appliance whiz, master chef, country caretaker, super parent
Gen 10: Sunflower
-friendship and loyalty-
Required trait: loyal and choose at least one of: cheerful, outgoing, generous
Career: any
Aspiration: one or more in the social category Optional: Additionally complete successful lineage or big happy family and continue gameplay
Style: any - home with lots of space for hosting gatherings, yellow as a focus color would be a good choice
You had a pretty perfect childhood - supportive parents, siblings to play with, space to roam, the whole nine yards. Only... it was still a little lonely. There's a whole world out there, and as much as you love your parents, they didn't really expose you to it, preferring to stay home. Well, you're grown up now, and you are going to bring the world to your family and your family out into the world. There's so many cool people out there and you are going to be friends with them all.
-Complete the social aspiration as a child
-Maintain a group of friends (use club system if you have get together) your whole life, adding members as you age and make more friends
-maintain good friends level friendship with all club members
-Fall in love with and marry someone with the family oriented trait
-have at least two kids
-take at least one family vacation
-maintain friendship levels with all family members (siblings, parents, spouse, kids) at at least the good friend level
-host family and friend gatherings frequently - if you have growing together: have a family reunion at least every 4 sim weeks - if you have seasons: host gatherings for every relevant holiday (e.g. no gathering needed for lottery day or love day, but harvestfest yes)
-Optional: have one parent die as an elder and move the other in to live with you and your family, take care of them until they die
-Optional: have a pet dog all your adulthood
-Recommended: complete an aspiration in the family category as well (successful lineage or big happy family) - this will require continuing to play a bit beyond the 10th generation

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Man, I feel helpless sometimes. I’m 31, back to school, working making what used to be a livable salary, baby on the way, married. I want a house so damn bad but it seems completely out of reach. Everything is getting so expensive. Seems like war is on the horizon. I just feel there is a lot of uncertainty in the air. I try to maintain hope that things can come into favor for average citizens but I just don’t really see how that could happen. I talk to older generations and they say things like, oh it’s all relative. That irritates me because I really feel like boomers potential to generate wealth was so much easier than ours. I don’t even bet on having social security. What do you guys think? What could happen to turn things around? What probably is in store for the future that we should prepare for?
Edit: for those who are insinuating, I’m not looking to complain. Everywhere I listen, it seems that a lot of people feel a turn is coming. Just searching for perspective. I’m a welde fabricator and I’m in school for electrical engineering because I’ve seen change coming for the past 2 years. I am competitive. I appreciate all the input y’all.

Chapter One
Prev--------Next
Taritha woke to birds chirping—a small perk of living close to the woods. Not that she had chosen this, really. In recent weeks, she’d approached every potential house seller in the village, but none had panned out. She yawned, stretching as she stood in her cramped home, where even the ceiling seemed to press down upon her. As she ducked instinctively to avoid bumping her head, she imagined a real house, with rooms tall enough to hold her dreams. Or at least where she could stand up straight.
Despite everything, she felt a pang of nostalgia. This was her birthplace, the only home she’d ever known. Yet now, it harboured mostly painful memories. Thoughts of her ma and grandma, whom she dearly loved, too often left her feeling drained and sad—luxuries she couldn’t afford with her busy days. She was no longer the frightened girl learning the names of all the flowers in the meadow. Now, she stood as the town's healer, or more precisely, the assistant to the town's biomancer—a role with even greater prestige.
"If only Gran could see me now," she mused aloud with a bittersweet smile.
Taritha approached the two woven reed baskets that stored all her belongings. Among them were the old, patched dresses of her past—a stark contrast to the refined, embroidered garments the mage had given her. These made her feel transformed, but today, on her day off, she had something even better in mind. She smiled, pulling out a new dress made by her friend, Jeanel the seamstress. It was just delivered the other night and was her first purchase ever—a pale green dress with flowy sleeves and a narrow collar. The fine cotton swished at her ankles, a delightful improvement from the coarse fabrics she was used to.
With a contented sigh, she revelled briefly in the feel of the dress, then turned her attention to breakfast. Despite her ongoing magical studies, she’d yet to master even boiling water. As she gathered sticks in the forest, she mused how her life had been dominated by such mundane tasks, a stark contrast to the mage's effortless magic. That more than anything fueled her passion to learn his secrets.
Returning home, Taritha stoked the morning’s embers and set a pot of porridge on her small hearth. A busy herbalist, she always had some honey on hand. In addition to its therapeutic qualities, it made her breakfast far more palatable. After the hearty oats, she tackled her unruly hair with a worn wooden comb, a necessary chore given her long locks. The old comb was worn and was missing more than half its teeth, but she’d had it for years. Maybe it was time to replace it, later this afternoon. Each stroke helped her focus, as she mentally prepared for her day.
Today is a big day! Mage Thippily asked me to meet him at the new factory!
She washed her hands in a shallow bowl in front of her house, flung the water into the woods, and headed to the mage’s converted warehouse. She rubbed her hands dry as she crossed through the woods and into town. Here and there people smiled and waved at her.
She was always barely tolerated, and only that because she provided the poorer folk with herbs and cures, and helped her gran do the same since she was a girl. It was different now. She wasn’t sure if it was dressing like a big city clerk, or the amazing results the mage had worked, or just being associated with the huge, and almost universally positive changes that had come to the town in the last few months? She was treated like a respected pillar of the community, even without a powerful family. Or maybe because of her powerful new friends, she mused.
Taritha arrived at the sprawling patio where the mage’s men lounged in casual attire. Although she often spoke with them and even joined in their card games, she realised how little she truly knew about them. Their backgrounds were an enigma; they spoke of poverty yet displayed a casual wealth, like the time Rikad nonchalantly settled a woodcutter’s hefty, overdue tab with a mere wave of his hand. Their claims of never having served a lord or the imperial army were belied by their skilled, coordinated response during the pirate attack.
Their treatment of her was curiously deferential. Despite the lack of a formal hierarchy beyond Mage Thipply at the summit and Lord Stanisk as his deputy, they treated her with respect bordering on reverence. She wasn’t even sure of elv’s exact status—was she respected, feared, or merely tolerated? Yet, Taritha found herself secretly delighted by their respectful, if entirely mistaken, forms of address.
“Ah! Her Grace has arrived! We saved a sugar bun for you!” Eowin somehow mistook her for a duchess as he dramatically gestured to the patio table, where a single pastry sat on a crumb-covered cloth.
“You surely spoil me with your kindness, gentlemen!” The bun was cooled but was still tender and fresh. She tore into it while everyone stood up to gather around.
“Ifff Thiffply here yet? She asked, covering her full mouth with her hand.
“Nah, he left hours ago,” Kedril announced as he opened the gate, gesturing for everyone to head out. “We’re to join him at his factory once you show up.”
“Why do you think he wants all of us there? That’s a bit ominous, isn’t it?” Rikad mused as they strolled down the street.
“It’s to show off his, OUR, new factory. He’s been out there every day since Midsummer. Nothing he could do would be ominous!” Ross countered, drawing groans from his mates.
“If he asked you to walk into a sea monster’s mouth, you’d do it! I swear!” Kerdril retorted, exasperated.
“Well yeah! Because he’d only ask that if it was okay! You guys would too!” Ros insisted.
Taritha couldn't decide if Ros's unwavering faith was endearing or concerning. The polite, bespectacled man was undoubtedly generous, but secrets followed him like storm clouds.
Rikad turned to her, curiosity piqued. “Okay, Taritha, we might not know anything, but you must. You talk to the mage more than all of us combined!”
“He’s been distracted and excited, definitely looking forward to today. But I’m not in the inner circle, I’m just a worker bee like you guys,” she shrugged, smiling as the men sported an array of colourful tunics, remnants of the Midsummer melee.
As the boastful chatter continued at the front, Ros slowed to match Taritha's pace. “How's the house hunt going? Find anyone selling?”
“No, even with the Chief helping, they all know it’s for me, and they’re being difficult. I help these people, but they can’t look past what they think they know about me,” she confessed, careful to keep her eyes on the tricky path.
“That stinks. But at least your clinic yesterday went well, right?” Ros tried to lighten the mood.
“Mostly? I almost wish someone would come in with an axe in their leg! Now, it's all trivial complaints. Like, they’re tired before bed or their kids won’t listen—things we can’t fix because there’s nothing actually wrong,” she laughed dryly. Realizing she’d been complaining and talking about herself too long, she redirected back to Ros, “Was that your first battle the other night? Seeing you in action, I worried, but those pirates didn’t stand a chance against you!”
He softened, touched by her concern. “I’m just as strong as anyone else! Maybe younger, but—” He paused, kicking a pine cone, then added gruffly, “We fought for the town. Giving up was never an option.”
After a moment, he looked up, his face brightening. “I like your dress, by the way. Is it new?”
She beamed with pride and smoothed the fabric. “Thanks! Yes, it's from my friend, the seamstress. Getting paid is a better way to live.”
“The pay is good, the second best part of the job, maybe third,” he quipped, offering a teasing grin.
Taritha laughed, rolling her eyes playfully. “Oh Light! I see why they groan when you talk. Hey, Rikad! I bet the mage will turn one of you into a messenger pigeon, and I’m just here to make sure none of you eat the birdman!”
They rounded a corner and Taritha could see the factory for the first time. Her duties and habits had kept her in town for the last few months, making today the first time she’d seen the building. This section of woods, and even this trail were familiar to her, but the enormous stone edifice in front of her was striking. She’d never seen any building as big in her life. The scale was hard to judge, but it looked like she could fit not just the count’s manor, the church, and every inn in town in the great building. Probably most of the craft district too!
The road led them straight into the daunting gatehouse. Wide enough for even oversized carts, it was sturdy enough for a siege. Her hand lingered on the open door. The imported oak was thick, and bound by great iron braces. She could feel the subtle pulse of some enchantments deep in the wood, strengthening and protecting it. Her companions were more impressed by the well appointed guard posts and the lookout tower, linked to the gatehouse by a rope bridge high overhead.
“Ah yeah! Look, it’s stone all the way around the tower, the only way in is at the top! From up there we could shoot into the back of anyone attacking the gate!” Rikad pointed out with glee, elbowing Kedril.
“Lightdamn it,” Kedril replied with a low sigh, smiling despite the jab.
After admiring the craftsmanship of the entryway, they stepped into the main yard of the factory. It was a sprawling, wide-open space, recently reclaimed from the dense forest that still towered around its walls. The ground was a patchwork of uneven dirt, dotted with stringy bushes and the raw stumps of freshly cut trees. Piles of construction materials—lumber, stone, and scattered tools—lay strewn about, signs of the ongoing work. A rough, two-lane road carved through the yard, looping around the area in a practical, if makeshift, circuit.
Taritha paused to slowly turn in place, absorbing the imposing scene. The walls around her soared several stories high, lined with dressed timber that lent the industrial space an unexpected warmth, reminiscent of a colossal cabin. Massive loading bay doors punctuated the walls, each wide enough to accommodate carts and machinery, flanked by smaller, human-sized doors dotted the side of the factory proper.
The entire courtyard felt like a blend of raw, untamed nature and budding industrial might, a place on the cusp of becoming a centre of bustling activity yet still holding onto elements of the wild forest it had so recently been.
“Oh! I think that’s the door to go in!” Taritha announced, gesturing to the one with parchment bearing the mage’s neat handwriting.
Please Come In
“I thought you said you’d never been here? Rikard said, his voice suspicious, his eyebrows impressed.
“That’s what the– nevermind, it's this way.” she said. Her attention was now acutely focused on what lay ahead.
What could it be about? This was strange. If it were a tour, why didn’t he, or at least Stanisk greet them at the front? Something’s off. He’s firing us all. We get paid too much, and now that his fortress is built, he doesn’t need us!
She noticed nothing of the interior, focused instead on her fears and anxieties. Good things were vanishingly rare in her life, so she didn’t expect them to last. She walked, looking at her feet. She hoped that she could at least keep her new black boots when they fired her, she really liked them.
They ended up in the main factory space, a colossal room that occupied more than half of the expansive building. It had rows of empty shelves on the sides, complex kilns at the back and rows of low, very wide empty benches around most of the perimeter. In the open centre of the room stood Lord Stanisk and Mage Thippily. As usual, Stanisk was clad in his heavy steel mail, while Thippily wore his customary tan vest over a neatly pressed shirt and slacks, exuding scholarly dignity. Their familiar attire offered a touch of reassurance amidst the vast, unfamiliar space.. The lack of tools or supplies made it feel a lot more like an abandoned warehouse, but much much bigger than any she’d heard of.
“Come! Come! What do you think? They did a first rate job, especially in such a short time!” Mage Thippily gestured around at the huge room. His cheerful voice seemed small on the factory floor.
Above, the ceilings towered, reaching heights Taritha had never seen inside a building, instilling a feeling of insignificance that was hard to ignore. The air was laden with the scent of fresh-cut wood and pine resin, comforting yet somehow unsettling in this unfamiliar, grandiose setting. She marvelled at the impressive scale of the room, all the while aware of how little she understood.
“Come! Gather around, we’ve so much to discuss!” Mage Thippily’s infectious cheerfulness helped scare away some of her worries. “Today is the day! This has been a huge part of my dream since before I even hired the first of you! Even before I met Stanisk!” He motioned everyone closer, and they formed a semi circle around him and his Chief of security, with a respectful few paces of distance between them.
“Have a knee, lads.” Stanisk casually commanded, and the twelve men immediately fell to a comfortable looking kneeling stance. That it happened in smooth unison implied this happened a lot. Much slower and more awkwardly she bunched her dress to the side and seated herself on the plank floor.
“Oh, excellent! Alright! There are a few things I wanted to share today!” The mage seemed more nervous than she did, and she wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or an awful one. What could he possibly have to worry about? He had all the money and power!
He straightened his wire frame glasses and continued, “First of all the factory will be starting regular production tomorrow! The carts and supplies will start arriving all day today, so Stanisk will have your updated duty roster. I imagine factory security will be the majority of your duties now, so there will be some adjustments. All of our vacations are over now!” He chuckled awkwardly.
“Running up hills with sacks of rocks was less of a vacation than you’d think M’lord!” one man piped up.
“Work is sitting in a shaded gatehouse? I reckon we’ll live,” added another.
“Cut the chatter, the mage ain’t done.” Stanisk seemed uncomfortable.
She hadn’t noticed it at first, but he was always so calm and resolute, seeing conflict written across his face was the most unsettling part so far. The boys seemed happy, their jobs sounded safe now. She tried to look serene.
The mage couldn’t fire me, I am learning magic! But too slowly? Maybe he’s too busy to continue tutoring a dullard with a whole factory to run?
Mage Thippily continued, “I have also mostly completed the quarters here, and you are all invited to move in immediately. I’d like to lend our warehouse-barracks to the families that lost their homes in the raid, then convert it back to a normal warehouse later on, since we’ll need the storage space soon.”
The men looked around the huge empty room but didn’t say anything. On one hand, sleeping on a factory floor was what very poor serfs did in the cities. On the other hand, the mage had been uncommonly open-handed so far, so the offer warranted at least some patience. After all, she was envious of how nice their accommodations were in that converted warehouse.
Seeing no objections, Mage Thippily gulped and shrugged, his discomfort growing more obvious. “Well, there is one more, rather large, bit of business in the middle. I’ve not been completely forthright about, well about the core nature of this entire enterprise.” He shifted his shoulders uncomfortably, for an instant reminding her of a very little boy getting caught stealing sweets. “The way that I make things isn't with magic, more with magical creatures.”
To her it seemed like a distinction without a difference. If anything that made it all much more impressive.
Seeing confused shrugs, he elaborated, “The creatures are animated with extraplanar energy, and bound, or I guess more accurately, projected using a novel form of enchanting, I’ve been calling totems.” Again no response. They were all fairly accustomed to his habit of over-explaining. Her recent arcane education had never mentioned anything about extraplanar energy or totems, but she could fill this massive building with all the things she didn’t know about magic.
“Since the specific extraplanar dimension is commonly called the ‘Hellplane’ and most of the process is based in demonology, they could be considered, in some categorization systems, as a type of demon.” he winced as he spoke.
Ah, there it is. He was the worst evil the Church had ever known and had allied himself with the forces of madness and chaos.
It was a shock to her, and she physically recoiled from the news. How could the kind, gentle mage be an incarnation of the cruelest type of evil? Literal demon worshipers. She reflected on how little he was bothered by her being born a witch, and compared to actual demons, it made a lot more sense. A narrow ray of self-doubt nagged her, if the church had lied to everyone about witches, maybe her reaction to demons was conditioned the same way.
Mage Thippily, or more accurately, Master Demonologist Thippily continued,“To be clear, they are not native to hell, nor do they have minds as we understand minds. They are perfectly safe, perfectly obedient and incapable of suffering. I cannot overstate how safe they are. One hundred point zero percent safe!”
A few of the men stood up and reached for non-existent weapons on their hips as they backpedaled. Eowin made the gesture of the triangle while shaking his head.
“Sit down you helpless moon-calves, the mage ain’t done talkin’,” Stanisk’s tone held just the barest edge of danger, and they begrudgingly stopped and knelt again. A sea of wide eyes focused on the mage, alert and tense.
“You knew about this, sir?”
“Sit down and shut up. Of course, I knew. I saw the imps ‘fore I even met Grigory.”
Grigory regained the focus. “First let me explain the perks! Each of you will get your own set of imps! They are perfectly obedient, and even bad instructions can’t cause bad outcomes. They will hopefully make your lives easier, free you from drudgery and give you more time and focus for enrichment! This factory, all my money and political clout, all of it is in service of my one true goal, and it’s been weighing on me not being able to share it!” He stood as straight as he could, and held his slightly trembling hands in front of him. “The end of labour, for all people everywhere!”
“Huh?” A sea of confused shrugs.
That goal was impossible and dumb. Everything is labour, that’s the whole point of, well everything? That’s the basis of everyone’s place in the world.
“One step at a time of course! First you, then the town then the whole Empire! The imps are perfectly safe, and much of what everyone does every day is tiring, undignified, and often unpleasant. Imps can do that now! There will be a day when all people in all places can spend their time however they please, pursuing whatever they fancy!”
Still a lot of sceptical frowns.
“So what’s that mean for us, milord? I don’t reckon I get where we fit in, as your workers?” Jourgun asked timidly.
“Ah! Of course! So the nature of the imps, their absolute inability to harm anyone means I still need people with the physical and moral capacity to defend my dream. It means you will accrue more wealth and power until those terms become meaningless, it means that I am now free to offer you the very best of my aid, and you will be the first to live the way I want all sentient life everywhere to live, free of drudgery!”
Most of that sounded like hollow rhetoric, but so much money that the term lost meaning seemed a very interesting offer. Well, to the soldiers. Taritha was all too aware she had neither the moral nor physical capacity to defend the mage against much. The men exchanged meaningful looks without saying anything.
“But I also understand the nature of this is itself an unkindness. I put you in a position where you are basically coerced into potentially acting against your beliefs. Since no one can say yes if they cannot also say no, I have a secondary offer. Anyone who would like to quit may do so. I’ll pay the balance of this year's salary, and pay for your passage on a ship to Wave Gate. In exchange for a simple verbal promise to keep my secret for the next year or two.”
“You’se best think hard on breaking that promise. You’se’d be making enemies with the most dangerous Grandmaster Demonologist whats lived in millenia,” Stanisk intoned menacingly.
“No, not at all! He’s kidding!” Grigory added while trying to smile as wide as he could.
Stanisk scowled and shook his head subtly, communicating that he was definitely not kidding.
“Can we talk about it for a bit? This seems, uh, big?” Rikad asked.
“Oh My! Yes! By all means!” the mage nodded agreeably.
Beside her the men stood up and huddled close, discussing intensely. She stood and looked at the tight knot of men. She felt out of place alone, and out of place butting in, but did anyway.
“-- is a no-brainer, right? We’d be insane to turn this down?”
“What about our souls? Money comes and goes, but souls?”
“I ain’t done no business with demons ‘afore? I don’t know guys…,” Jourgun equivocated.
“You hadn’t done business with a baker or tailor before the mage hired ya, don’t confuse being broke with being moral. Think about what else you can do that will result in a better life. It's the best offer I’ve been given, and the best offer anyone in a dozen generations of my family has gotten.” Rikad was firm, his priorities were well known to the rest of the men.
“This might not be his only secret, what if there’s more, and it’s worse?” whispered Taritha. She hated being the negative one, but it was so obvious to her.
“Sir! Is there more? Will it be worse?” Ros shouted.
“Uh, no? Plenty of more small details, but they’re all good, at least I think so?” The master demonologist said with a shrug.
“It’s okay Taritha, I checked.”
With effort, she kept a straight face. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to strangle him or hug him. “Thanks.”
“We’re gonna be fighting the good guys, like the Church and Empire, you all are okay with that?” Kedril asked.
“Whoever opposes our mage, ain’t the good guy,” Rikad said calmly.
Ross turned to the front and shouted, “Will I have to fight the Church or the Empire?”
“No, every possible diplomatic–” the mage started.
“Yeah, but with magic swords and armour.” Stanisk interrupted.
Ross returned to the huddle, “That sounds pretty exciting!”
“I don’t wanna have anything to do with black magics, but I even more don’t want to leave. Imagine chopin’ trees for ten glindi a day? I can’t go back to that. Yeah, I’m in.” Theros said resignedly.
“Me too.”
“Yeah”
“Wait, wait, are you sure? This is an out. Might be the only one we get? What if it all goes to mush and we end up in the Inquisition’s dungeon?” Kedril asked. “Have we thought this through?”
“Imagine if it goes to plan? Imagine telling yer mum and whole family they’ll never have to toil again? And that change is because of your bravery? Seems a risk worth takin’.” Rikad retorted. “Take the exit if you want I guess?”
“Nah, I got nothing to go back to, and this is interesting. Besides, eleven maniacs following a demonologist will need a voice of reason.” Kedril explained.
“Oh yeah, our voice of reason! You’ll stay on won’t you, m’lady?” Rikad deliberately misinterpreted Kedril, and turned to Taritha.
If they think they have nothing to go back to, I have even less. Even his exit offer was unappealing. At least I understand where the mage’s disdain for the Church came from. His offer of protection seems even more sincere now.
She was silent while she tried to articulate her position.
“We’ll make sure that you’re safe if the demons turn on us! We’ll defend you to the last man!” Ros said with his big puppy dog eyes, but this time his mates nodded instead of rolling their eyes.
“Of course, I’ll stay, someone needs to put you back together!” She was touched by their loyalty, especially since it was unearned. She hadn’t actually helped or healed a single one of them so far.
Everyone left the huddle, and Rikad addressed the mage. “We all agree to continue employment under these new conditions. However, I’d like a few points clarified; Does this affect our souls, our descendants' souls, or our afterlives?”
Grigory's face lit up, and he finally relaxed. “That is great news! I’m overjoyed that you’ve put your trust in me, and I will continue to strive to be worthy of it. You have my assurance Rikad, there’s nothing in my research that has ever suggested the existence of souls or an afterlife. Who's ready for a factory tour?”
Prev--------Next
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I have been dismissed from my job with no redundancy. The reason is untrue and process has not been followed properly. For context: I started at this company a few years as an apprentice for in house IT support. This is a small business with less than 100 people.
This was supposed to be an apprenticeship where I would learn the ropes. When I started it was a team of 6 people and by the time I got made permanent staff I was one of only 3 IT staff left. I quickly went from taking the phones and IT ticket system to doing pretty much all the heavy work and learning it all myself. I have done everything from user desktop support, networking and server management. Basically became their de facto IT manager without any of the pay or benefits.
My original lead / manager go through left shortly after I was made permanent and I was directed to answer to someone in HR. This was a distant relationship and basically not really much in the way of support. I just got on with things and for the most part was left alone. Our team dropped down to just me and 1 other person and I was able to make a case last year to hire someone else.
Over the last few months I started having conflicts with my manager because of several issues. When I received feedback about poor IT service I explaining that the current setup we were using was not really ideal, poorly setup and I had several arguments with my manager because they refused to accept that the business needed to better manage the network drive they were using instead of letting people just using it as a dumping ground and/or pay for the extra storage capacity we needed to cover the increased use.
I was repeatedly being asked to stay behind / work longer hours to support issues with services like when we had a production server go down and I spent all night staying on to get it back and working. I was told verbally "we'll sort it out" - this went on for weeks and I started recording it in my timesheet only to be I was told in writing not to record this in my timesheet because it made things look messy. The amount of hours I worked has put me well below minimum wage. When I challenged my manager about this in front of HR I was basically told "well we never agreed to pay for this, it would be more time off in lieu" but that was not possible as we have a small team. Because of this my foot down and told them I would not working any further hours beyond my contracted which led to some arguments.
Based on what I have seen I do not think the company is doing well and is struggling with finances, because they seem to be penny pinching small expenses like equipment, vendor support and paying for extra hours worked. I also had several heated discussions with my manager about salary as I realised I was being well underpaid for the role I was doing as 1 of 3 full time IT staff in the company and one of the only 2 people with any understanding of the estate with the other person currently being in hospital for the last 2 weeks. I was the de facto IT manager for this business despite having no official managerial responsibility. I did raise the salary issue several times but was always asked to talk about it later.
Last week this ended in me being asked to come in quickly for a meeting with my manager face to face. This turned out to have several people from HR there where they told me that my behaviour had become unprofessional due to the way I had interacted with them and that my insistence on repeating prior concerns was part of this ie salary, funding and refusal to work overtime. They also said my performance was poor and not meeting the standards of the business, and that I was subsequently being dismissed for these reasons. I decided to just take the termination form, walked out of the room, going to my office space and clearing out my personal belongings and leaving. I was really angry at this point and did not want to make a scene.
Some points / questions:

• 1 - I was dismissed unfairly. There was no prior warning or formal process. It feels as though this is something the manager has been planning behind my back due to me being noisy. The official reason they gave me is poor performance and refusal to follow managerial direction but I do not agree with that assessment. I managed my workload fairly. I tried to proactively address problems before they became an issue. I made several attempts to improve the IT estate (including suggesting that management do their job and tell users to do housekeeping on their network shares) and was turned down. The termination form I have been given is very barebones and looks like a boilerplate document. How do I go about taking action for this? I do not wish to be re-employed there but given all of this I feel I should be eligible for compensation
• 2 - I have received my final payslip as of Friday but it is missing the money I am due for the 200+ unpaid hours. I have several local emails backed up recording the time taken as well as multiple emails. I have asked to be reimbursed and they refused. It puts me under minimum wage given my salary. Am I entitled to get this back? How?
• 3 - As soon as I knew I was terminated I went home, found I was still able to access the system as nobody was around to disable access, and used my access to take the information I needed. I took a full backup of my mailbox from the company mail server with the conversations about my timesheets, overtime, salary and being told not to discuss salary / funding for IT. I also went into the HR share and found the termination forms they had made had background details fabricated with dates / timestamps of events that were untrue or misrepresented. I have taken these files offline also to back my story up. Is this something that will help support my claim with the company around unpaid hours and unfair dismissal? Do I need anything else?
• 4 - Am I responsible for contacting vendors to remove my details? Because my manager wouldnt provide me with a work phone or act as a point of contact and our vendors would only take the number of an IT contact I have vendors with my personal contact details (name + mobile number) and I have already had one vendor get in touch with questions. I politely told them the company I no longer work for the company and that they should probably cancel the support arrangement until company gets back in touch.
• 5 - Due to some conversation I've been having with an ex colleague for a few months I already have a role lined up and have been encouraged to refer my other 2 colleagues. If I invite them to this role could my old employer take action against me for poaching them?
• 6 - Reference: I am worried my ex employer will provide a negative reference based on how things went/ While my new soon to be employer has a good view of me I dont want to cause issues with future employers. What is my company allowed to say? Do they have to provide factual information?
• 7 - What are my obligations to the company now? The company has been in touch several times to demand I provide a full handover of working instructions, passwords + credentials and any equipment I have left. This originally came through the junior staff member on the team who told me he was being directed to demand for it. I dont begrudge the lad personally but politely declined and told him to pass back the message that it can come through company management to me. They got in touch end of last week and tried playing hard ball. I told them I would not discuss anything further with them until they paid me back the 200+hrs overtime I was owed, and not to get in touch until they had arranged for that. They said they would take further action, and I promptly put the phone down and decided not to take any further calls that week.
• I do have credentials and passwords committed to memory and saved in a vault but nobody apart from me and maybe 1 other person has them. There are not any working instructions beyond what our junior already has. I had a personal list of vendors, portal / contact details etc. I still have a few company laptops / spare HW at home in the workshop. I took work home with me a lot so this is why. What am I legally obliged to do now? I am willing to make them wait until I get what I am owed first.
• I think they realise now they have made a mistake in sacking one of the only competent IT staff they have and are scrabbling to not be in a bad position. They also realise I still have access to their estate and could do damage if I wanted to be malicious not that I will but they are probably in panic mode over this. I have honestly shut them out for now as I just needed downtime after the stress of the week

TL:DR

Call of Duty is capable of being the second greatest shooting game E-sport behind Counter Strike. And I recommend COD to recreate their world League, but this time give slow paced development of the league and follow a promotion and relegation system. Basically the Premiere League but COD...

Intro

When it comes to shooters the last thing you can think of with an E=sport is Call of Duty. After all this is supposed to be a game where casuals play and "turn off their brains", at least before the "2019 incident" came along. Yet in a weird cosmic sort of way Call of Duty does have the ingredients for a really successful E-sport.

• Dedicated community to COD
• Activision formerly risking billions of dollars for E-soprts.
• annual releases for the franchise.
• cosmetics and weapons camouflages of your favorite teams.
• teams based off of cities!

This is an untapped gold mine if used properly, once again something that Activision never understood for some reason, and hopefully Microsoft does. So I am here to tell you how they could've brought big cash to Call of Duty, and what they can do now elevate this.

Dedicated community to COD

Weather you guys are stupid enough to buy microtransactions (especially that $80 monke fist 😬). Or you make Youtube money off of hating the game, you are still a part of that community.
You see most successful E-sports have an existing dedicated base that has willingly made their content or build their lives on that one game. Call of Duty is one of those games! This is why Counter Strike has a massive audience, why Team Fortress 2 still has a competitive scene despite rarely getting updates, it just got one and the game is a bit modernized. Those games have a long lasting E-sports because it was organic and started from grassroots development, same with Halo's situation also.
You can easily contrast this with mechanically forced E-sports like Overwatch. There's yet to be a community and Activision fabricated an E-sport out of this.

Activision and billions of dollars

As you may have known, Activision spent millions of dollars to develop an Overwatch World League for this game. Once again this was a bad idea because a community was barely formed at the time of its creation, and was not grassroots. Even then at its prime OWL was a successful model for most E-sports to follow. Bobby Kotick Eww wanted to create "the NFL version of E-sports". It was possible, but this is the wrong game to do it in.
Instead Call of Duty was better to try this out on. This game already had a world league, and was widely recognized by even non-gamers themselves. This game at the time was already bringing money, even with the supply drop backlash from the community. Infinite Warfare and BO4 were the best years for Competitive COD, and they even got the US Military to sponsor this game's E-sport at one point. Once again This community was grassroots built.

Annual Releases help the scene.

Yes, the very thing that gives longtime players burnout, is exactly the reason why the COD competitive scene or the entire game itself, cannot die.
As weird as it sounds, annual releases help to keep Call of Duty League, fresh. The same game, from a different studio, with different ideas on how to develop it, will always keep teams on edge and have viewers interested in what a new game would bring. It solves the repetitive feel that other E-sports had with their games, at times even introducing new ideas to the table.
Some critics might say that players will slack off for the last season and get ready for the next one if they don't like the game. Or lay themselves off the current game for the next one. However I don't see that happening because the general skills learned from previous COD games will transfer to the next, and pro players do in fact learn the games' mechanics before league season begins.

Cosmetics

Like Overwatch, Call of Duty gets cosmetics to help support teams and players make revenue. Once again this model is perfect for E-sport teams, and even for teams that aren't doing well in the leagues, cause they get some revenue benefit for having a small fan base supporting them, wearing their jerseys, etc:

Teams based off of cities

Yet again, another perfect idea to get people invested into the league. Having teams be based off of cities or sometimes states, can get non-gamers to become viewers. Cause some people love to be nationalists over their state. Look at Optic Texas for example, look at New York Subliners. That stuff gets people excited to celebrate their state or city, and it adds relatability to the players and teams.
Optic and Faze
Let's be honest here, CDL is alive specifically because of them. This IS the birthplace of a rivalry that has existed for decade's. Older than MWIII zombies enjoyers.
This serves a purpose actually. CDL is close to having real-life stories that fans can follow and relate to, even create new viewers also.

What should the league do moving forward?

The end goal is to reintroduce the Call of Duty World League. But go slow and strategically with it. Here's the roadmap to get there.
Allow the existence of local COD LAN events
It's as simple as that. Well... not really, because Call of Duty League should create a set of guidelines and rules that tournament organizers must follow, for it to become CDL approved. CDL approved local tournaments will also allow talent scouts from team owners to find two upcoming pro players.
Make Call of Duty Challengers available north and south America
Call of Duty Challengers is a perfect place for players to show off or develop talent, and be selected for a League team. But I am going to fundamentally change that lol.
Let's replace that model with the four top Teams in the challengers get promoted to the League, and giving said team the honor to represent a city or state of their Country. However the two worst performing players in the lowest worst performing team in the challengers gets replaced by two upcoming players from local COD tournaments.
Make Call of Duty League regional
A regional league will help with the small teams problem. We can promote four teams from three protected countries the top three countries with the most COD players to participate in this league automatically without any challenge to their placement. As for the fourth nation, teams across different countries will have to go through the Challenging Bracket, a fight between all the top four performing teams in the challengers for the top four placements in the CDL. (this totals to 16 teams to follow, and vary between 4 to 8 countries).

CDL of North America	CDL of South America
Canada	Brazil
United States	Argentina
Mexico	Columbia
Challenging Bracket	Challenging Bracket

​
Allow Call of Duty League to Franchise abroad
After the multiple successes, of CDL(NA) and CDL(SA), This would allow the league to franchise across the entire world with this very model that made them successful in the first place. We will soon have CDLs for

• Western Europe,
• Asia
• Australia and New Zealand (later in time)
• South Asia (later in time)
• Eastern Europe (later in time)
• Africa (later in time)

You might have to modify the selections to of these teams depending on region.
Reintroduce Call of Duty World League
Advertise the fact the CWL is back and better than before. Let people know that Call of duty is ready to show of talents from across the world, more importantly humanize the players let viewers know their backstories.
Add a promotion and relegation
this will bring up the stakes for players to perform at their highest level. Giving reason outside of money and salaries. The system should go like this

Local COD LAN events
This is the lowest league anyone can begin in, people will sign up: solos can buddy up with a random team, or groups can play together and play LAN cod games. A talent scout (owner of a COD team) from Call of Duty challengers will select two players to join a challengers team.

• Teams can not be relegated here
• 6v6 multiplayer
• Any gamemode is allowed (no CDL rules)
• CDL create a class
• Only two players can be promoted.

​

Call of Duty Challengers
This is where actual teams will compete against each other across the entire country. There will likely be a range of 20 to 24 teams exactly fighting for the top spot. Everyone participating will be paid $25,000USD yearly. The two worst performing teams will be paid $15,000USD for that year. The four best performing teams will be paid $55,000USD for that year.

• Two worst players can get relegated
• 4v4 multiplayer
• CDL Modes (Hardpoint ; Search and Destroy ; Control ; Capture The Flag ; Prisoner Rescue)
• CDL rules and CDL create a class
• Four best teams are promoted

​

Challenging Bracket	Call of Duty League
Top four teams from all countries not listed in the protected bracket, compete to qualify to the Call of Duty League. All teams in this stage will still receive $55,000USD regardless of performance	Two leagues from North America and South America compete in their own continent to win a $3,000,000 check. $1,500,000 in the semi-finals. $750,000 in the quarter finals. In a prize pool of $9,000,000USD

• The winning team gets qualified to the Call of Duty World League
• Everyone goes back to challengers with their check
• Teams that participated in the league will have their costumes and Camos available in the game.

​

Call of Duty World League
This where 4 teams from across the globe fight to win $15,000,000USD, with a prize pool $45,000,000. Semi final placements get $7,500,000. Quarter-finals get $3,750,000.
If the world league becomes more successful we can see 8 teams across the globe fight for $30,000,000USD.

*Pick/Ban maps & modes will be live on stream. *Pick/Ban loadouts will also be live as well.

You did it, you read all of this thank you '__'

I am set to graduate college in December and already have a job offer due to an internship I did. It is a nice salary and gives me the chance to move to a city I want to live in. However, I have wanted to join the Marines (the military in general) since I was a young kid. I even thought about dropping out my freshman year and went through MEPS and did everything but decided to stay in college after some convincing from my parents.
I have been in contact with an OSO and got everything squared away. All I need to do is a PFT and submit a packet for the next OCC board in October.
I would love to be a Marine officer, but I feel like with everything I have going for me right now, doing so will set me back in life and in my career after the Marines. The Marines may turn into a full 20 year career but that is not the goal or mindset I’d have before I even started. However, I am also worried that I will regret not joining when I am older. What do you think I should do?
Any advice and opinions are very appreciated. Thank you.

I am set to graduate college in December and already have a job offer due to an internship I did. It is a nice salary and gives me the chance to move to a city I want to live in. However, I have wanted to join the Marines (the military in general) since I was a young kid. I even thought about dropping out my freshman year and went through MEPS and did everything but decided to stay in college after some convincing from my parents.
I have been in contact with an OSO and got everything squared away. All I need to do is a PFT and submit a packet for the next OCC board in October.
I would love to be a Marine officer, but I feel like with everything I have going for me right now, doing so will set me back in life and in my career after the Marines. The Marines may turn into a full 20 year career but that is not the goal or mindset I’d have before I even started. However, I am also worried that I will regret not joining when I am older. What do you think I should do?
Any advice and opinions are very appreciated. Thank you.

I'm recently diagnosed and medicated, through my 25 years I had suspected to have ADHD but since my dad most likely has it too, I never acted weird enough for a psychiatrist appointment until now. I'm pretty independent, productive and I'm self employed. I've managed to live like this for a while and just recently it has been really complicated for me to maintain a proper balance. But even then, I can work, and earn money. I have many friends with ADHD and/or autism, of course we struggle in some areas, but most of us are successful in our ways. Self managed musicians, operation manager of a big company (spoiler, that friend has the highest salary and has bipolar disorder, ADHD, autism and OCD!), graphic designers and artists of all kinds. The thing is, I have another friend, ever since I've known her I've tried to help her in every way I can, encouraging her small brand (jewelry and some textile stuff), checking up on her, answering her crisis calls and giving all the advice I've can, and she's been trying to find a "proper" diagnostic since I know her, even if she's already medicated. But that doesn't seem to be enough. There's ALWAYS something bothering her, it's almost like medication doesn't even work on her (which can happen! I'm not saying it can't, but she doesn't seem to improve). She's constantly on crisis, and she seem to want, or to need to have some sort of identity based on the diagnosis. When it's not her memory issues, there's sensory ones, then she feels suicidal and another day, her hands itch for touching fabric, and she's disoriented now. Not saying that can't absolutely happen, I'm just tired of having to up her all the time, to me it feels like her need of having others attention and compassion for her inability to do... anything is bigger. Maybe I'm being rude and I'm really sorry. It's just that today she asked me for 1 of my pills and it felt...odd. It didn't felt right. Mostly because I don't think they do anything for her, and second bc I need them too! Like even if I gave her my meds, it's most likely something will come up and it will be worth nothing, it's not magic! We need to put some effort too, and yeah, I don't know I just needed to vent. Thanks for reading. TL;DR: friend with ADHD won't do anything until finding out what her "true" diagnosis is, and until then, she'll find a way of feeling ill or unable to do anything. Won't try to get better.

Meanwhile, a new village was forming that would also be making unreasonable demands upon my time (and dignity).
The following Monday evening, I met Paul Betz at O’Riordans again to finalize the schedule of my impending, part time servitude to him and Anna. Given Luke’s and Brooke’s schedules (she was still waitressing at the restaurant three to four days a week at this point), it was decided that every Thursday afternoon I would present myself at their condo with a specific set of cleaning supplies and then clean it from top to bottom. I would be expected to wash and fold their laundry for the week as well. We also decided that the third Tuesday of each month would be the target date for me to spend a minimum of four hours at their apartment preparing and serving them dinner and completing any other miscellaneous chores I was assigned. Paul brought along some clothes of his and Anna’s for me to take to the dry cleaners that afternoon. I was to pick up the clothes and bring them on Thursday when I showed up to clean for the first time.
It was left unsaid but was understood that I would be responsible for paying for the cleaning supplies and dry cleaning (and, later, for the food I prepared for them and their friends). That this was primarily another form of control and domination became clear when I showed up at their condo for the first time. At 2300 square feet (considerably larger than Brooke’s and my house), the condo was in a luxury high rise building that had been built a few years earlier in the town adjacent to the college. It was without question the most upscale residential building in the area with a large inground pool and gym on the third floor. I learned that Paul was a trust fund kid from an affluent family in northern New Jersey. Anna was also the product of a privileged upbringing and clearly fancied herself a princess. Paul’s parents had purchased him the condo as well as his BMW. So they didn’t need me to buy them anything; in fact, the financial sacrifices I made to do so, while not huge, were clearly noticeable on my professor’s salary. I was a serf paying tithes to my feudal lord and lady. And like the budding Medieval literature scholars they were, that’s exactly how they referred to me (at least some of the time).
My servitude to Paul and Anna was qualitatively different than my servitude to Brooke and Luke. For one thing, it was the first time that my subjugation was involuntary. I suppose one could argue that I was so in thrall to Brooke that my servitude to her — and, by extension, to Luke — was not entirely voluntary either. But, in fact, it was. As Brooke made clear, not following through on my vow of being willing to subjugate myself to her lover would result in me losing her, but that was still my decision to make (unthinkable as it may be). By contrast, I was being blackmailed by Paul. Failure to comply with his demands could very well result in me losing my job, not to mention in widespread public exposure, and ridicule. Those aspects ultimately proved to be academic (no pun intended), as you will learn, but I did not know that at the time, and they were powerful motivators in my early capitulation.
Another way it was different is that it did not involve the direct participation of Brooke. And while Anna certainly made her presence known to me — in ways that were routinely humiliating and often painful — it was Paul who really pulled my strings. So, although Luke was clearly my primary master, he held that position by virtue of his hold over Brooke. By contrast, Paul’s mastery of me was a more straightforward affair.
Our relationship was different for Paul and Anna as well. The other three submissives in their stable (all of whom I was eventually to meet and serve alongside at various times) were their contemporaries. As Paul pointed out at our initial meeting at the pub, I was old enough to be their father. The fact that they had an older authority figure under their thumbs, or to be more accurate, under their feet, was an endless source of amusement to them. This was reflected in some of their many nicknames for me: old man, professor page boy, professor serf, professor pantyboy, Dr. Deviant, professor pet, professor maid, Dr. Cuck, the old loser, etc. Another distinction was that their relationships with their other submissives were more or less consensual, I believe — closer in nature to my relationship with Brooke and Luke. They were driven by sexual obsession, masochism or possibly even some twisted form of love (or some combination of the above) on the part of their supplicants. And by what on the part of Paul and Anna? Sadism? Entertainment? Brooke would probably say they were driven by their love of the game. As an inveterate masochist, it was difficult for me to get into their heads. In any case, I was somewhat of an experiment for the young sadists; perhaps they had concluded that some form of coercion was required to ensnare the older victim they coveted.
When the doorman asked me my name that Thursday afternoon during the third week of November when I first showed up at their condo in my jeans and L.L. Bean jacket, mop and bucket in hand, I answered simply, “Walter.”
“Walter who?”
“Just Walter, please.”
“Mr. Betz, a Walter to see you. He doesn’t want to give his last name.”
The doorman was a skinny guy, roughly my age, dressed in a traditional doorman’s uniform such as one would routinely see on the Upper East Side of Manhattan (which somehow seemed a little absurd to me in a small city in Ohio, but Neil would probably say that observation was yet another manifestation of my elitism).
He smirked at me. “He said you must be the new maid. He said in the future that you should announce yourself that way — the maid — to avoid any confusion. Apartment 11B. The elevator is around the corner.” He spoke in a dismissive tone, thus establishing the hierarchy of servants in the building.
When I rang the doorbell to 11B, Paul answered it. He was dressed in a T-shirt, sweatpants and sweatsocks.
Would this be the point when Paul said, “Hi Professor Rollins This is all just an elaborate practical joke. Thanks for being such a good sport about it. Welcome to our home. Let me get you a drink.”, or something to that effect? Not that I really thought that was likely, but I did allow myself to hope momentarily.
Those hopes were quickly dashed when Paul said, Get on your knees.“
I looked at him, unbelieving, and said, “Out here? In the hall?”
“Yes, out here. I expect you to be waiting on your knees every time you come here until we open the door. You might consider getting yourself some kneepads, since you’re going to be spending a lot of time on your knees when you’re here.“
“But what if one of your neighbors sees me?”, I said, looking around the hallway apprehensively.
“How do you address me? That’s twice you’ve fucked up already.”
“Sorry, sir. But what if your neighbors see me, sir?”
“That’s really not my concern. But you shouldn’t worry too much about it. We only have two neighbors on this floor and, believe me, they’ve seen a lot more memorable things than someone kneeling at our doorway. They’re cool with it. And none of them have any connection to the college. At least none that I’m aware of.”
I dropped to my knees and looked up at him, now perversely hoping that he would admit me into the apartment as quickly as possible.
“You may enter. Shuffle on your knees.” I did as he commanded. He then inspected the contents of my bucket: Murphy’s Oil Soap, Lysol All Purpose Cleaner, scrubbing brushes, sponges. “Everything seems to be here. Where are our dry cleaned clothes?”
“In my car, sir. I didn’t want to wrinkle them, sir, with my hands full. Shall I get them now, sir?”
“No, you can get them later. Now stand up and strip.”
Incredibly ashamed, I removed all of my clothes but for my sheer white panties, the metal of my chastity cage clearly visible beneath the delicate fabric. At that moment, Anna came down the stairs of what was obviously a duplex condo.
”Fancy meeting you here, Professor Rollins!”, she giggled.
My cock throbbed uncomfortably in its cage. How could something so incomprehensibly humiliating — standing in skimpy female undergarments and a chastity device, in a position of utter powerlessness, before two of my students — be arousing? Yet it undoubtedly was, and the shame of it brought tears to my eyes.
Anna was dressed similarly to Paul except she was wearing tight, black yoga pants as opposed to his loose fitting sweatpants. About 5’ 8” tall with what I could see was a slender, athletic build, she had straight, long blonde hair. I later learned that she was co-captain of our college’s women’s volleyball team. In class I had noticed that she was attractive, of course, but I had never really taken stock of her until that moment. Since Brooke had entered my life, I had quite consciously paid less attention to the attractive students in my classes; why did I need to fantasize about any of them when I was married to my dreamgirl? However, as I regarded Anna that afternoon, it was clear that she was a quite lovely, sexy, young woman. I would soon come to learn that she had the imperious sneer and contemptuous smile down pat. Perhaps these qualities were not attractive to everyone, but to a masochistic male such as myself, they were quite alluring. I had to reluctantly admit that she and Paul made a remarkably attractive couple. A quite formidable one too, especially when it came to tormenting people with submissive natures. People like me.
For my book, I had been researching a fetish, sort of an offshoot or variation of the cuckold fetish, that had been rapidly growing in popularity recently in online forums and on social media: submissive men in service to “alpha couples,” who were typically young, attractive, athletic and dominant. Characteristically, the physically inferior, submissive male in such a relationship suffers from unrequited love for the female member of the couple, his “crush,” and simply accepts that a more deserving rival is worthy of her affections. This acceptance may happen after he is dumped by her (usually before the passive creature even makes it to first base), but just as frequently she makes it crystal clear from the very start of their relationship that he will never be more than her friend (or even her simp). It then becomes his duty to serve not only the object of his unrequited affection but to also serve the man whose affections she does return. Sometimes the rejected “beta male” is kept around by the woman in “the friendzone,” almost like a neutered pet whose presence is tolerated by the alpha male because he so obviously represents no threat. At the other extreme, the rejected male becomes a virtual slave to the couple, performing demeaning chores for them or even buying things for them in a form of financial servitude. Interestingly, in these extreme cases, the beta male sometimes develops a worshipful sexual attraction to the alpha male as well; surely the physical attributes that win the heart, and bed, of his beloved are worthy of his desire, too? And not only the physical attributes. Also the alpha male’s confidence, his dominance, perhaps even his cruelty. Usually, such relationships fall somewhere between these two ends of the spectrum. However, as you can see, many similarities to the chivalric love triangle and to certain types of cuckolding relationships.
Well, Paul and Anna were right out of central casting for the types of alpha couples I had been reading so much about. In fact, I later discovered that two of the other submissives in their stable almost precisely fit the description I just gave of servants to such couples. One was a young man, Issac, who was hopelessly in love with Anna but who had grown quite abjectly devoted to Paul as well. The other was more unusual, a female “friendzoned” by Paul, who had quite enthusiastically embraced her role as Anna’s lackey and doormat. This individual, Cindy, was a variant of a submissive cuckquean. Issac and Cindy differed from true cuckolds and true cuckqueans in that they had never had a sexual relationship with their beloved to begin with. In that way, one could argue that they were even more pathetic than I was. Never fear, Paul and Anna found creative ways of making me feel inferior to them as well.
“Well, aren’t you going to say hello?”, asked Anna.
“It’s just that I don’t know how to address you, miss.”
“Outside of the classroom, you may address me as Princess Anna or simply as princess. Kneel before your princess and kiss my foot, professor.”
I got back down in my knees, bent over and kissed her right foot through her sock.
“Now the other one.”
“Yes, princess.”
After I planted a kiss on her left foot, Anna said, “What about the feet of your prince?”
I kissed both of Paul’s feet through the thick wool.
“Ok, let’s give you a tour and then you can get started. You may walk,” said Paul.
“Thank you, sir,” I replied.
“Why don’t you make him call you ‘my prince’? Or, ‘my liege’? I like that. Especially since he teaches that kind of shit.” Anna was a sub par student, so I was not surprised by her vulgar, reductive description of the subject matter of my class.
“‘Sir’ is fine when he’s working as maid. Follow me,” said Paul.
First they showed me around the first floor, where there was a large kitchen with high-end, stainless steel appliances and granite countertops, including a large island. In addition to a large living room (at least twice the size of mine and Brooke’s), there was also a sizable guest bedroom, a full bathroom and an office on the first floor. We then walked up the stairs to the second floor, which was slightly smaller than the first, including an open area that looked down onto the first floor. On the second floor was Paul and Anna’s spacious master bedroom with a large en suite bathroom. Paul then unlocked a door to what I presumed was a third bedroom That’s probably what it was intended to be when the developer built the place, but Paul and Anna had converted the room into a makeshift dungeon. It contained a St. Andrews Cross, a padded punishment bench of some kind and a cage in which the prisoner could sleep or lay down (although not very comfortably). There were multiple riding crops, canes, paddles and straps hanging on the wall (similar to our hallway at home, but much greater in number).
Paul then opened a large closet containing a compact washer and dryer. I was at least relieved that I wouldn’t have to go down into some communal laundry room in the basement of the condo to do their laundry. On the other hand, following my tour, my first thought was that there was no way it would be possible for me to clean the entire place and do their laundry in only two hours (which turned out to be correct).
Paul said, “When you’re finished cleaning, Anna and I will inspect your work. Any shortcomings will be recorded in this notebook.” Paul pointed to a leather bound notepad lying on a small table in the dungeon. “I will record your demerits here. You’ve already earned two for failing to address me as ‘sir’ when you arrived. Of course, we still have to figure out methods of punishment that won’t be detectable to Luke and your wife.”
“How are we going to dress him when he cleans, babe?”, Anna asked Paul. Then to me: “I don’t suppose you brought a maid’s uniform with you, did you?“
“No, princess.”
“I like that page uniform you wore at the Ren fair. You know, with the white tights. Bring that next time.”
“I will try, princess. But the jacket belongs to my wife.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out. I doubt she’ll miss it,“ said Anna.
“With his chastity cage, I think he should wear stockings and heels like Chrissy,” said Paul.
Anna replied, “At least he’s shaved smooth already. He’s about the same height as Chrissy. I think I have a pair of thigh high stockings that Chrissy hasn’t opened yet. They should look good with his little, white panties. I’ll get them.“
Anna came back with a pair of sheer black thigh high stockings. They watched me as I pulled them up by legs, smiling derisively.
“It looks like he’s put on nylons a thousand times before,” said Anna.
“He probably has,” said Paul
“Let’s see if he fits into Chrissy’s heels.” She left the room momentarily and returned with a pair of black high heels. I had never worn heels before and was very unsteady on my feet. They were also tight and very uncomfortable.
“I think they’re a bit tight for him. I’ll order a pair one size larger, Anna “said Anna.
“Well, you’re off the hook, maid. You don’t have to wear heels today, but we will expect you to wear them in the future. Now get busy,” ordered Paul.
“The professor maid. I love it!,” snickered Anna.
I started by gathering up their dirty clothes from their bedroom and starting a load of laundry. I next began cleaning their master bedroom bathroom. For the most part, Paul and Anna reclined on the sofa and watched TV as I worked. Occasionally, one of them would come over to supervise my work, critically.
“Make sure you scrub behind the toilet. I check for dust on the back of the toilet, and I better not find any,” said Anna.
“Yes, princess.“
“The only way to clean back there properly is from on your knees.“ I did as she commanded and began scrubbing earnestly, conscious of her scrutinizing my efforts (and my panty-clad ass, sticking out).
“You know, I think he looks a lot more at home cleaning the bathroom floor on his knees than he does lecturing at a podium,“ Anna yelled out to Paul in the other room.
“He should be forced to lecture from his knees,” laughed Paul.
“And to take his own tests and quizzes. That 64 I got on that last pop quiz better magically turn into a 100 by the end of the marking period,” said Anna.
I had to draw the line somewhere, didn’t I? “Princess, sir, I have been meaning to talk to you about that. Surely you can see how it’s impossible for me to maintain my integrity as a professor, to maintain academic integrity, while inflating anyone’s grades. To do so would devalue the grades of everyone in the college, including your own. Surely you…”
“I don’t fucking believe this!,” exclaimed Paul forcefully, causing me to shut my mouth instantly. “Is this guy for real?!”, he asked Anna. “Look, you talk as if either of us actually give a rat’s ass about ‘academic integrity.’ I promise you we don’t. You will change my, Anna’s and Kelly’s scores to A’s on that quiz and on all future tests and assignments. You don’t even want to conceive of what will happen to you if you don’t.”
“He should change all of our grades since the beginning of the semester to A’s,” said Anna.
“I’m afraid that might be a little too obvious, babe. But certainly everything from here on out, including that last quiz.” He then turned to me: “You thought you were so clever giving that quiz after getting your ass beaten by me at the Ren fair and cleaning our shoes. Like you’d show us who was boss. Well, there’s no turning the clock back. We know what a pathetic beta you are now, and you will be treated accordingly from now on by your three favorite students. Got it!”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now you have less than an hour left and a lot more to do. You better get your ass in gear.” With that he swatted me sharply on my ass. Anna giggled.
I worked at a frenetic pace, focusing on finishing the bathrooms, kitchen and laundry. I was interrupted twice to bring the young princess and prince a glass of ice water and a snack.
“I think he should curtsy to us like Chrissy does when he serves us,” said Anna.
“I don’t know how to, Princess Anna.”
“Learn how. You do know how to use the Internet, don’t you, geezer?”, Paul said. Anna snickered. “Now get back to work. You turn into a pumpkin soon and you’ve got a lot more to do still.”
Despite my best efforts, as I suspected, it tuned out that it simply wasn’t possible to clean an apartment that size in two hours —at least to their exacting standards. Even as it was, Anna found two hairs in the master bathroom shower and “unacceptable” grime behind the faucet in the kitchen. I had, in fact, noticed it but hadn’t been able to fully remove it with the granite countertop spray they had, despite scrubbing vigorously.
Paul said, “There’s a lot he didn’t get to. The living room is full of dust and shit on the floor. He didn’t even touch the dungeon. It’s probably not realistic to expect him to finish the whole apartment in two hours.”
Anna said, “It’s no problem. I’ll tell Chrissy to get her ass over here tomorrow morning. Professor maid should just focus on the bathrooms, kitchen and our laundry when he’s here. Chrissy and/ or Cindy will take care of the rest,” said Anna.
Paul said to me, “Come over here. Stand at attention in front of us.” I did as he ordered, standing in my panties and the loaned thigh high stockings before my seated young rulers. Paul pulled down my panties and with his right hand gripped my balls, which were jutting out from beneath my small chastity cage.
“Squeeze his little, geriatric balls, babe. Show him who’s really boss.”
Admittedly they were little, but geriatric?! I hadn’t yet turned 40! But the age discrepancy between the two of them and myself was a big part of the turn on for them in dominating me, and they were to miss no opportunity to rub it in in the months that followed.
Paul did in fact squeeze my balls that afternoon, causing me to stand on my tippy toes as I winced in pain. He held onto them firmly as he addressed me, “That’s five demerits. Two failures to address me properly. Two hairs and counter crud. Please record them in the notebook, Anna. We don’t have any more time today, so we will address them the Thursday after Thanksgiving when you prepare us dinner for the first time. We won’t be so rushed then. When you return, you’ll bring with you your completed writing assignment.”
“Writing assignment, sir?”
“Yes, punishment lines. I want you to write out neatly, 500 times: ‘I will never bring up the inane subject of academic integrity with Prince Paul or Princess Anna again.’ Good penmanship is important. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now get dressed and bring us our dry cleaning before you leave.”
After I retrieved the dry cleaning from the car, Anna smiled brightly at me and said (absurdly, surreally), “I hope you have a very happy Thanksgiving, Professor Rollins!”
I replied (equally absurdly), “You too, Princess Anna, Prince Paul.”
I heard them crack up behind the closed door as I headed towards the elevator.
I hurried past the smirking doorman to my car. Although Luke mercifully was traveling that night, Brooke would be expecting some dinner when she got home from the restaurant.
Like I said, it was a very busy November.

I am not the OOP. The OOP is u/Impressive_Mix_2559 posting in AmItheAsshole and his user account
Concluded as per OOP
Mood Spoiler - genuine growth for OOP
5 updates - Long
Original - 21st August 2021
Update1 - 22nd August 2021
Update2 - 13th September 2021
Update3 - 18th November 2021
Update4 - 6th August 2022
Update5 - 9th January 2024
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AITA for speaking my truth?
​
My sister is my Dad’s golden child and no matter how much I try to get him to see me as her equal it never works and I believe she takes advantage of it. Usually is not much of an issue, but this week some things happened which were the cherry on top.
I‘m hopefully getting married next year and she asked if she could invite her inlaws because they will come next time she comes over. I said OK only because my parents are paying but I know she just wants to do it for the attention. So she will have at least 4 people from her political family there and for sure parade them around.
Also, my parents are about to have a big anniversary in November but they are postponing any celebration because my sister, who lives overseas, doesn’t want to travel so long until things are even calmer. BUT LAST MONTH SHE WENT ON A HOLIDAY TO A COUNTRY NEXT TO HERS.
I was having lunch with them and my fiancée when they informed me they are moving their big celebration to next year and I couldn’t handle it anymore: I said to my Dad “of course you will postpone, we should all stop living until she is here” he said it was uncalled for and I was making a big deal about something that had nothing to do with me and my Mom said they will of course have something intimate and I was as important but I don’t believe it. I stood up and said to my Dad “I am so sorry the love of your life is not around but the most important woman in your life should be your wife not your daughter”. After that I left.
The next day I felt bad and tried to call my Mom who refuses to speak with me and just sent me a text telling me I was bitter and was hurtful and need help. But they and particularly my Dad hurt me with their desire of giving her such a prevalent role in their lives when she has lived abroad for like 10 years. My Dad blocked me and my fiancée is worried they won’t pay for the wedding anymore. My sister, trying to be the center of the universe as usual, tried calling me but I didn’t reply.
I gave it a few days but my parents haven’t contacted me. My sister stopped trying to get in contact with me but she contacted my fiancée to “check on me”. I visited my Grands today and she told me I need to apologize because my parents love us both but we are different and so got different things so I began to wonder if I was the asshole.
I just want some days where I am the most important person to my parents and still believe that my sister’s golden child status should be addressed and corrected but maybe I was the asshole for the way I expressed it?
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Edit: I am (26M), my fiance or fiancee is a woman. English is not my first language sorry.
I also want to clear out I don't think my parents are bad people but just bad parents.
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Edit2:
This is long time coming. My sister (33) and my Dad have a little club. She is smart, reading since 4 and all that. Since she was very young my Dad used to take her to visit his clients in a nearby city and sometimes she would stay with one of his best friends who owned a book store and she has a very large book collection that my parents refuse to throw away, even when I tell them to send them to the woman (Dad’s best friend) or my sister.
They talk almost daily and discuss economics, politics, etc. I am not interested on any of those and yes he tried to take me with him but I was always bored and did things like going to my games or getting us stadium tickets for our team but I feel he likes her more. My Mom on the other hand has ups and downs with my sister because they are very different.
The last issue was my sister’s weddings 5 years ago(YES SHE HAD TWO) one intimate where she lives and another in our country, and my Mom wanted to have her dresses made from a special fabric and my sister put a budget limit on how much the dress was going to be and even wanted to wear the same dress for both things.
They had an argument but in the end she had 2 dresses but with the budget. She didn’t even let me bring my gf (future wife) because she wanted it to be intimate but there were like 50 people there. My Mom told my fiance she would be buying or making her dress SINGULAR, my Mom and fiance have a very good relationship so I am sure my sister was involved somehow in convincing her of that.
Sister has a Phd that my parents paid for and doesn’t work in the family businesses at all, only consults sometimes and pretends she doesn’t want to be paid for it. My parents supported her until she got a job and every time she graduated for the Masters and the Phd we had to go to Europe to be there.
I work in a family business so I know they have to talk to me eventually even if they are angry. I could give more and more examples of their favoritism towards her. I also don’t hate her I just wish she would let me shine on my days.
And yes the wedding would be a gift but if they were willing to pay for two and many dresses and honeymoon then I deserve the same treatment!
​
Edit3/Update1:
In case anybody wants to know (you might be happy about this)
I got a message from my Dad telling me to be in a family zoom call, to say everything I want and everybody will take turns. He said if I didn’t attend he will pull out his funding from our business so I had to go but told him I will ask my fiancée to be in too.
It was me, fiancée, parents, sister and her husband. The moment I connected I noticed my sister was pissed. I was the first to speak, I told them all my feelings and even brought up the fact hey are treating my wedding differently and even what some commenters brought up about my parents leaving the businesses to my sister. I spoke about how hurtful it was they preferred her, they seem to talk to her about serious things and she gets so much and they all think she is great etc. Nobody said anything or interrupted me, which is very common in serious family talks. Then they asked if my fiancée wanted to say anything and she bravely said she felt she was not part of the family and she always thought they thought of her as a daughter and she stands by me.
Then it was my Mom’s turn and she told me she was sorry about my feelings, that they tried to do things I liked and that they love us both equally. She said it was sad I pretended everything was ok and they didn’t know how deep it was but she still thinks I need help. She then told my fiancée she loves her but my sister is her only daughter.
Then it was my Dad’s turn. He said he is sorry I feel he doesn’t like me but he isn’t sorry for loving his kid. He said I didn’t mind the tickets, cars, or even living in a house rent free and he is disappointed. He said everything they own will be divided 50-50 when they died and if I didn’t want my sister to have anything to do with our business then I can buy him out. He said they will pay for my wedding no matter what because it’s something they always wanted to do for they kids but are not happy with me. He also told my fiancée that she should be grateful and not greedy.
By then I was upset with the lack of apologies and the attack of my fiancée but I held it.
Then my BIL told me he didn’t know how I feel about his family and he just assumed his nuclear family would come just like I was at his brother’s wedding. He said no hard feelings over it.
Then it was my sister. A thing about my sister is that when she is truly angry she doesn’t swear or screams, she is just really cold, hard and to the neck. She said she could feel me distancing at around 10-11 when she visited from uni and I was not included in some conversations with my Dad. She said she accepted being my guardian at 18 if my parents died so she had to be brought up to speed on all matters and didn’t want to stress me out.
She said she could have been a better sister and she was sorry I grew so full or resentment but that her career path had nothing to do with me. She reminded me I was offered to go abroad but I didn’t want to. She reminded me that I have gone on holidays with her and let me know those holidays were paid by her or her husband not my parents (news to me). She said she asked me about her in-laws coming because they need to plan the trip around my wedding.
She said my fiancée and I were only 7 months together when she got married and that she didn’t want my parents to have to pay for her trip. She said that the reason she doesn’t want to get paid for consulting is because she thinks is not right but that next time she will invoice me her actual hourly rate since I am so insulted by it.
She said she went to the Netherlands (from Germany) because she was truly burned out and is pathetic I think is the same as taking a 10 hr plane. She said my Grandma was the one that told her everything I said because my parents tried to protect me and that she was done with me for the moment until I get therapy. And the last thing she said was that she loves me but doesn’t like me at all right now.
This is obvious summary but the was she said the things is something I have seen her do to people but never to me and I almost cried but she had no niceness in the eyes. My parents said they can get me therapy or I can find it myself and that if I don’t try something to help myself the wedding is the last thing I will get from them. What made me feel worse is how my sister spoke to me, she has never talked to me like this even when we argued so I know she is serious.
I got my A** handed to me. Yes I am jealous and the asshole. I am upset my fiancée is crying but I think I need to evaluate what my next move is.
​
Comments
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mum3masterofnone
Yta. At first I did feel sympathy for you but then the way you decided to word your 'truth' just came across as immature and petty. And it seems like you're making a lot of assumptions about your sister. 'She'll parade her in laws around.... she wanting to be the centre of everything' etc.
How do you know the reason she called you wasn't to try and help you resolve things with your parents? You're not even giving it a chance. I have a sister who lives overseas and when a major family event is happening we always try to accommodate her as she is the one who has to make all the arrangements of travel and stay and a lot of expenses. What's the big deal?

OOP:
Please see my edit. She is calling because she pretends to care for me so everybody will think she is the best of the best.

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[deleted]
Or maybe she called because she cares about you? You sound like you have a victim complex. Have you considered therapy?
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Update - 1 day later
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I haven’t been able to sleep and decided to read all the comments again. I tried calling my sister because even if yes I am jealous of her it still hurts me the way she talked to me. She refused to talk to me but I could speak with my BIL. He said the reason she doesn’t want to talk to me is because I hurt her deeply and she feels emotionally drained by me and knows if we talk she will say more hurtful things.
This made me realize how much I love my sister and the problem is me. I still have bad feelings and feel I have been slighted, I can not say I am magically a different person but my family has never talked to me like they did and my sister has always defended me and I thought she did it to look good. I am beginning to think maybe she actually loves me. I am very confused.
My BIL is an amazing man too and he told me to just get help and give it time but I am unsure what to do or where to go, he told me to research therapists and pick one and he would help me choose if I want his help. He also said I should stop thinking my family doesn’t care that they are not perfect but they do their best.
But he also asked me what is my fiancée's family contributing to the wedding or our lives and I could not think of anything. She lives with me, works with me and her parents are not paying anything because they say my family is better off. I don’t know where that will go but I did tell her I need help because I became a monster so no wedding until my family issue is fixed. She is crying but said she understands.
My Grandma said that she told my sister because my parents just told her there was an argument but not what I said, looking back what I said is disgusting and I feel bad about it. She said my family wouldn’t react so strongly unless they love me a lot. I asked my Dad if I can take some mental days off (noit a thing in my country) and he said it sounds like a good thing and reminded me they love me and just want me to be happy and not just pretend to be happy.
Also, the books are in her walk in closet in her bedroom at my parents. They still have a lot of my stuff in my bedroom and my parents said I am welcome to Sunday meeting whenever I feel ready to go. I also must admit that she did two weddings because my parents asked if she would be willing to do so. My Mom wanted to get her super fancy dresses and at the end they got 2 dresses for like 600 euros because my sister put a limit of 300 per dress. I think maybe I am jealous of her because she is actually better than me, I just don’t want to feel like this anymore or hurting my family anymore.
So I guess I can thank reddit for the hard comments, I have so many issues and so much jealousy about my sister to get over I don’t know where to start. I am beginning to doubt if I am even ready to get married. But if the comments had been full of support I would probably not see it. And of course my family call was really something hard to be in.
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Update 2 - 3 weeks later
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It has been a very interesting time for me and my family. I wanted to share because you -redditors- are brutal but fair. Some told me I am rambling and yes I do so I try my best this time.
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My family ­­
After taking some days off work to process it all, my BIL found me a therapist and I started immediately. We have also done group sessions and “couple ones“ aka me and Dad, me and Mom, me and sister. It has helped me see all the issues and we are learning to communicate better as a family so nobody (me) feels unloved or unappreciated ever again.
I now know I have a long road ahead but I want to be better. My parents say they just want the best for me and they want me to feel loved. Also, I am moving back home. After high school I moved out because I wanted to do things like my sister but I feel it is the best option so when my parents gave me the option I thought it over and agreed to. Baby steps but good ones.
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My sister
She didn’t talk to me at all for about 10 days, and this might sound stupid but it is the longest she hasn’t communicated with me ever. It hurt me a lot and I knew I hurt her a lot. In our session she showed me a list of many messages people send about me: They were all positive, praising my talents and all. She said we are different but great in out own ways and the reason I usually don’t hear how great I am is because people don’t praise me directly.
She also told me most of the time when something happens that my parents know she might give me shit about they simply don’t tell her so I don’t have drama and joked maybe I am the true golden child since they shield me. She is talking to me again and has helped me a lot. Am I still jealous of her? Yes, but I want to transform that into admiration.
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My EX
While I know my feelings are mine and I am responsible for them, my Ex did throw gasoline to it. She was always the first to point out anything my sister got that I didn’t, or how much money everybody spent on things, etc.
Long story short, we broke up. Long story: I told her I was considering moving back with my parents and maybe getting a Master or something like that. She was not pleased with it and kept asking about the wedding, but I told her I could not think about marriage at this moment and maybe we could also use a break, I also told her I would give her three months to find a place to stay or she could pay rent on the house (my parents own it).
She was very angry, told me I had to marry her and if not at least let her live rent free and cover utilities and food because I was breaking up out of the blue. I told her that was the reason I was giving her three months and she could use her salary since she didn’t use a single cent while we were together. THEN things got weird and bad.
She told me she was calling her family, not leaving the house and will sue me for mental distress. I did panicked, she said the same back in the day when I tried breaking up but then convinced me she was the only one that loved me. But this time I called my family and they told me to lock myself out the house and call a friend of my sister’s.
He came and told her she can sue, she can do whatever, she is not getting anything and that my offer of the three months was off and he wanted her out ASAP. He took a video with the state of everything and told her if things are damaged I would sue her, turns out my sister told him this might be coming so he got info from her and was prepared for it and did it as a favor to her since they are kindergarten friends.
A couple of my cousins stayed with me until she left days later and her Dad told me I would go to hell. She is still working in the company and will have a job as long as she performs but I have no relation with her at all anymore and haven’t been to the office. YES, THERE IS NEPOTISM AND MY FAMILY HIRES EACH OTHER. But nobody would take away her job because she does an ok job and is always on time. I hope she finds love again, just not with me.
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And Me
I am single, at home and most likely unemployed in the next months since my parents say I should focus on myself and my mental health. My BIL has been one of my rocks through this and he truly cares for all my family and we are becoming true friends. My Grandma let me know nobody liked my ex and she is happy we are not together anymore, she says they all started disliking her when she got upset they didn’t get her expensive things for our first christmas. My friends also told me they didn’t like her. Turns out everybody wanted it to end and some said so jokingly over the years but they thought she helped me out and made me happy so they dealt with her. I hope I get better luck in love but I need to be better too. I might take up the offer to start over abroad but I feel more positive. And yes my sister and I are trying to find common ground, she truly is amazing and the more I get to know her and her flaws and weird things like her lemon juice obsession, the more I like her.
At the end speaking my “truth“ got me what I needed and while I was a huge AH now I can admit how privileged I am. Still not perfect, but a little less AH.
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Comments
[deleted]
Your ex sounds like she really helped you out with your resentment and jealousy, and it looks like all she was after was your money. Notice how she didn't feel bad when you were upset over your family issues? All she asked about was the wedding, thats it, she didn't support you when you truly needed it, and she only made your negative feelings worse. So I'm glad you broke up with her, cause she would have only dragged you down further.
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Update - 2 months later
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Hello my brutal but fair friends. I wanted to give you my final update before but a redditor let me know about a very cruel post mocking me and it sent me into a spiral. I am lucky to feel stronger and want to update you mainly to conclude this chapter of my life and also because I have received a lot of support and kindness and love I feel is just the right thing. I will also try to keep it straight.
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My Ex
Since I left the company we have not talk much but she became upset when I told her I was not coming back and we will be selling it. My dad made a deal with a friend that every employee that wanted to would get the option to stay at least 3 years and would keep their position and not be demoted. I told her that but she said it was unfair, that people already treat her different and she feels people like her less. I told her I havent say anything but I know people were not crazy about her before and it doesn't surprise me that now that she is not related to any boss they are not putting up with her. We did have a big conversation about my future and it is obvious she was not with me for the right reasons.
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My sister ­
I told her about my posts and she asked to read them. After a little thought I told her my username and she said she wanted to check it out and we can talk about it later. She was very upset people were mean to me but very thankful people called me out because "I really needed that". She said her lemon juice thing was not that weird and teased me about it. In getting to know her more I have also been told things like they have lost two babies but I was not told since I didn't seem interested in their life and she was afraid I wouldn't take it well and it broke me.
It made me realized my sister is really a human and not myth and she has suffered things I cant even understand and made me really ashamed I was not there for her because I was being selfish and arrogant. Even in the pain she thought of how I would feel because yes my sister does love me. She has assured me she loves me unconditionally but now she is starting to like me again.
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My bil and parents
My BIL is an amazing man. I really hope one day I am like him in my own version, I get more and more why he truly deserves to be with my sister and he is full of love and patience. We had a long conversation about them having kids and I told him to please don't think I am an obstacle, he was really moved because he told me they were considering not trying at all until I were better but I know in my heart I would not forgive myself if I prevented them to have babies.
My parents told me now that I am making changes in life they would like to spend seasons in Germany and the only reason they didn't before is because they wanted to be close to me. Turns out they wanted to be close to me all along, I just was too stupid to notice.
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Me
I am moving to Germany. I decided to just try something new, my sister and bil are helping me with all the paperwork I will be going under an applicant permit and I feel very happy about it. My parents are helping me translate my documents, do everything to make them legal and all. I am applying for a Master degree and will get support from my family, sale of the business and a little job my bil got me. I am just finalizing things and will be moving at the end of the year.
My sister owns her own department and she will host me until I find my own. I am already taking German classes and my bil helps me practice too. That is the reason I know without a doubt my Ex is not for me, because when I told her I was moving to Germany her only question was if she could come too and if my parents would be willing to help her out since she doesn't get a wedding now.
She has been posting things about how my sister and how she destroyed her life with her schemes but my sister's friend sent her a notice letting her know we would sue her and she stopped naming her and now it is all passive aggressive posts without my sister's name. I apologized to my sister but she only asked me if I would ever get back with my Ex and when I said no she told me she couldn't care less about what my Ex did.
I am working very hard on my mental health I know it may take months or years to be in a place where I have zero jealousy but I also know it is for the best. I have not started dating again even if some friends suggested it because I want to be a worthy man and I am moving so I see no point. My therapist is amazing and since we do the sessions online it shouldn't be a problem. Sometimes I reevaluate some memories and realize people did like me, did love me, did care about me but I just couldn't see it.
My sister is truly just extraordinary and I couldn't see it because I didnt truly knew her and was so focused about myself. I now know I am also extraordinary in my own way or at least she keeps telling me that and I should stop comparing myself to her or anybody else. I never really appreciated how much my parents thought of me or did for me but now I know my family loves me and we are not perfect and I am not perfect but I will never take them for granted.
I am looking forward for a better future, a better relationship with my family and if I am lucky enough a new nephew or niece.
Thank you for all you have told me and for being the kick I needed to change my life. I am very grateful I came to this site.
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One Year Update - 10 months later
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Hello to the few asking about an update. I recently read all my posts and I feel very ashamed and proud of them. Ashamed because I was such an idiot and proud for the progress so far. Things have change a little but it is all positive for us.
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My parents
They now do seasonal or small stays in Germany. We have taken small hobbies together like wine painting and we keep getting to know each other better. My parents might eventually end up moving here but is unclear yet. The celebration of the anniversary is still postponed but they went on a very fancy trip as a second honeymoon and they don't seem to care much for that.
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My BIL
He's my brother now. I also became friends with his brother and they introduced me to their football and pool groups. I eventually made other friends but keep hanging with them a lot.
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My sister
She says she likes me again which honestly is the best feeling in the world. They are starting to try again soon and I am just excited for them. Sometimes when I feel any jealousy I actually tell her and she takes me step by step to see where it came from. We have had arguments since we are human but nothing so big or permanent and I feel she is more comfortable with me now.
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My EX
I don't keep up much with her, we were supposed to be friends but she was so negative I simply blocked her everywhere. All I know is she is dating someone else and telling everybody around she is so glad she didn't marry me which same.
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Me
I got into the program I wanted! I arrived at the end of 2021 and stayed a bit with my sister and BIL. There was a lot of debates over staying in the same city but I decided to do so. I moved out and decided to give student life a try but I still see my sister at least 2 times a week and same with my parents when they are here. I am still in therapy, learning ways to improve and bike everywhere.
I had a couple flings since i arrived but still do not feel ready for a relationship. I want to find a partner but is scary and I need to be able to do so without being manipulated.
One year ago I made a disgusting remark and now it feels my life is just going up. Thank you guys.
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Comments
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Maleficent-Wash2067
I feel like I just watched a coming of age movie. I’ve been that jealous sibling, Im rooting for you!
bean-cake
The part “she is so glad she didn’t marry me which same” makes me cackle lol, I’m so glad you had such amazing growth. I relate to you somewhat, so seeing the strides you made to change is honestly so great to see. Good luck !
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Thanks Reddit Update - 1.5 years later
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I recently showed this to my girlfriend and she is surprised how things happened. I am very happy and love my life now.
I will be an UNCLE soon, almost done with my new degree, and have a great relationship with my family.
This is for the few people that ask for updates, which probably will be the only ones reading. No drama or anything bad to report. And now I am also obsessed with lemon juice.
Thank you Reddit for kicking my ass and improving my life.
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I am not the OOP. Please do not harass the OOP.
Please remember the No Brigading Rule and to be civil in the comments

My girlfriend (F24) has been working in a startup agency for the past year since January 2023. This company has some pretty big clients under them and are scaling quite well. This is her first time working under someone as before this she’s been freelancing as a content creatoinfluencer. When she first joined, she held the position as a videographer and requested a salary of RM2000 as she was still new and wanted to learn the ropes of the company. The company was still small at that time with only 8 employees and 2 videographers (my girlfriend being one of them). As the company grew, my girlfriend was given new responsibilities that were not in her initial contract. Despite her new responsibilities, she was not given a raise. While all this was happening, a new videographer was hired and my girlfriend found out that her starting salary was double of hers while having less workload than her. My girlfriend wrote a letter to her boss requesting a revision of her salary since she has more responsibilities but was outright denied a raise. Now my girlfriend has a very good work ethic where she’ll go above and beyond to complete whatever work thats been given to her even though she hasn’t been given the best treatment in the company. Recently she decided to resign and she chose to serve her 3 months notice instead of paying 3 months of her salary for immediate resignation. After she made this decision, her higher ups started treating her worse and it got to a point where she got a warning letter with fabricated stories about some of the things she did during certain client shoots. My girlfriend has screenshots and receipts of what really went down so she has evidence that she’s innocent. They’re basically trying to make whatever time she has left in the company miserable so that she would choose to pay the resignation fee instead of firing her and paying her the same amount. My girlfriend wanted to leave the company on a good note so she doesn’t burn any bridges thats why she chose to serve the 3 months but with the backlash she’s received she’s decided that she wants out immediately but cant afford to pay the resignation fee.
Anyone have any advice on this matter? Her mental health has taken a beating ever since things started getting worse and I myself work freelance so I dont have any experience in dealing with something like this before.
TLDR: employee getting treated like shit in company to force her resignation so company doesnt have to pay her

Introduction

It's been 84 years. (It's been 3 years.) Remember when I said I'd be dropping this on Friday? Another lie. Turns out that law school takes up a lot of your time. But I promised a post about committees in my very second piece of this series, and I'm finally here to deliver.
Committees. The Europeans love them. The Congressmen want to be on them. But does anyone understand them? These incredible groups have led to some of the greatest moments in Congressional history, especially recently.
Where else could you go to hear Matt Gaetz poorly quoting the Book of Matthew to say that Lloyd Austin's hospital quagmire has anything to do with a vaccine mandate?
Where else could you watch Markwayne Mullin take his ring off like it's the WWE Raw (now on Netflix)?
Where else could you possibly see Tom Cotton kind of admit he thinks all Asian people are Chinese?
Hilarious.
Anyways here's a post about how committees work, and here's the last post of this series: Part 7

If Congress is so great, why hasn't there been a "Congress 2"?

Unlike other parts of the government, there's no pretense that the Congress is one continuous and everlasting organization (please learn, judicial branch). Instead, we've had 118 "Congresses" in the history of the Republic. They exist for 2 years each, they're usually split into two 1-year sessions (sometimes 3 back in the day), and they're each unique.
Historically, the Congress had a pretty important job. Seriously, read Article 1 Section 8:
"The Congress shall have power to lay and collect taxes, duties, imposts and excises, to pay the debts and provide for the common defense and general welfare of the United States; ...To regulate commerce with foreign nations, and among the several states, and with the Indian tribes; ... To raise and support armies; To provide and maintain a navy; ... And To make all laws which shall be necessary and proper for carrying into execution the foregoing powers, and all other powers vested by this Constitution in the government of the United States, or in any department or officer thereof."
The Framers modeled the power of the legislature after the power of the monarchs of Europe. That's one of the funnier pieces of the whole "voters think the US elects a king every 4 years" thing. We do elect a king in the United States. We just elect one in pieces, two years at a time.
See, but all that kingly activity is easy to coordinate in the 1st Congress, where you had like 80 people running the country. Washington wasn't even inaugurated until a month after the House achieved quorum. You could get away with anything back then.
But even still, the first Congress had committees. So what's going on?

Committees in theory (which can only take us so far)

So, imagine it's 1789. You have 59 guys in a room in New York. They have to solve some problem. They can either all sit together and brainstorm and write and try to figure it out while constantly arguing with eachother (which is kind of how they fought the British), or they can say "Hey wait, we have like 4 problems to solve right now and they're all time sensitive, what if we split up?"
So they split up.
7 of them get together and worry about how they're going to run elections, a few of them go worry about rules and procedure, the rest decide to all work on taxes and revenue, and they say "Ok, we'll go make some plans, and then we'll come back to the big group of all of us with the plans, and then we can talk about changing those plans, and then when we can agree on that we can have a final vote on if the plans are good enough to be a law on how we're going to deal with all this shit."
Bing bang boom, that's committees: just a small group in charge of one set of issues that can come back to the whole crowd and say "this is what we figured out."
And in that 1st Congress, it was so small and the government had so few categorical issues (as opposed to sporadic shit that had to get fixed), they could afford to have 4 Committees in the House (Elections, Rules, Ways and Means, and Whole), 1 in the Senate (Whole), and 1 to share between the two (Enrolled Bills).
That was basically all committees were for like 150 years. Every time there was a new category of problem the Congress needed to solve, they'd whip up a new batch of guys to break off and figure out "ok this is what we're doing about this," before bringing it back to the rest of their chamber.

Committee-ment Issues

Pearl Harbor changed everything. Already stretched to the absolute MAX by the Depression and Roosevelt's unprecedented electoral mandate, World War 2 was one of the most impactful things on America's legislature. I still haven't found a good book that explains all the shit that happened in Congress because of this war, but the Committee situation seriously got out of hand. Instead of the cute group of 6 Committees doing their part in exercising those kingly responsibilities, the 79th Congress had separate committees for:

• Accounts (H)
• Agriculture (H)
• Agriculture and Forestry (S)
• Appropriations (H)
• Appropriations (S)
• Arrange the Inauguration for President-elect (J)
• Atomic Energy (J)
• Atomic Energy (Select) (S)
• Audit and Control the Contingent Expenses of the Senate (S)
• Banking and Currency (H)
• Banking and Currency (S)
• Campaign Expenditures Investigation, 1944 (Special) (S)
• Campaign Expenditures Investigation, 1946 (Special) (S)
• Census (H)
• Civil Service (H)
• Civil Service (S)
• Civil Service Laws (Special) (S)
• Claims (H)
• Claims (S)
• Coinage, Weights and Measures (H)
• Commerce (S)
• Conditions of Indian Tribes (Special) (J)
• Conservation of Wildlife Resources (Select) (H)
• Disposition of Executive Papers (H)
• Disposition of Executive Papers (J)
• Disposition of Surplus Property (Select) (H)
• District of Columbia (H)
• District of Columbia (S)
• Education (H)
• Education and Labor (S)
• Election of the President, Vice President, and Representatives in Congress (H)
• Elections No.1 (H)
• Elections No.2 (H)
• Elections No.3 (H)
• Enrolled Bills (H)
• Enrolled Bills (S)
• Expenditures in Executive Departments (H)
• Expenditures in Executive Departments (S)
• Finance (S)
• Flood Control (H)
• Foreign Affairs (H)
• Foreign Relations (S)
• Immigration (S)
• Immigration and Naturalization (H)
• Indian Affairs (H)
• Indian Affairs (S)
• Insular Affairs (H)
• Interoceanic Canals (S)
• Interstate and Foreign Commerce (H)
• Interstate Commerce (S)
• Investigate Acts of Executive Agencies Beyond their Scope of Authority (Select) (H)
• Investigate the National Defense Program (Special) (S)
• Investigation of the Pearl Harbor Attack (J)
• Irrigation and Reclamation (H)
• Irrigation and Reclamation (S)
• Judiciary (H)
• Judiciary (S)
• Labor (H)
• Legislative Budget (J)
• Library (H)
• Library (J)
• Library (S)
• Manufactures (S)
• Merchant Marine and Fisheries (H)
• Military Affairs (H)
• Military Affairs (S)
• Mines and Mining (H)
• Mines and Mining (S)
• Naval Affairs (H)
• Naval Affairs (S)
• Organization of Congress (J) (that's a surprise tool that can help us later)
• Organization of Congress (Select) (S)
• Patents (H)
• Patents (S)
• Pensions (H)
• Pensions (S)
• Petroleum Resources (Special) (S)
• Post Office and Post Roads (H)
• Post Office and Post Roads (S)
• Post-War Economic Policy and Planning (Special) (H)
• Post-War Economic Policy and Planning (Special) (S)
• Post-War Military Policy (Select) (H)
• Printing (H)
• Printing (J)
• Printing (S)
• Privileges and Elections (S)
• Public Buildings and Grounds (H)
• Public Buildings and Grounds (S)
• Public Lands (H)
• Public Lands and Surveys (S)
• Reduction of Nonessential Federal Expenditures (J)
• Remodeling the Senate Chamber (Special) (S)
• Revision of Laws (H)
• Rivers and Harbors (H)
• Roads (H)
• Rules (H)
• Rules (S)
• Selective Service Deferments (J)
• Small Business (Select) (H)
• Small Business Enterprises (Special) (S)
• Standards of Official Conduct (H)
• Taxation (J)
• Territories (H)
• Territories and Insular Affairs (S)
• Un-American Activities (H)
• War Claims (H)
• Ways and Means (H)
• Whole (H)
• Whole (S)
• Wildlife Resources (Special) (S)
• Wool Production (Special) (S)
• World War Veterans' Legislation (S)

Any sane person sees that's too many right? It got so bad that even Congress noticed. So the Joint Committee on the Organization of Congress came in with a bunch of reforms to help make things manageable again. Enter: the Legislative Reorganization Act of 1946 (P.L 79-601), the vehicle to bring the legislature back into line as the primary (but still equal) branch of government, as the framers intended.
The last 80 years prove that didn't fucking work, but the reforms in this thing are largely responsible for the office structure that I went over in part 5 the eventually amended rules around lobbying that people play by which I described in part 6 & 7, and frankly a lot of minor budget considerations covered in part 1 & 2.For today's discussion though, this act created the system of committees and subcommittees that we see to this day, it defined the roles of the standing committees, and it significantly professionalized congressional committee staff.

Committees Today

Alright, here's the meat and potatoes.

Types of Committees

You have different types of Committees:
Standing Committees are permanent, they and their jurisdiction exist in the chamber's rules adopted at the start of every Congress. Their job is to consider legislative changes to issues within their jurisdiction and oversee the agencies tasked with carrying out those legislative matters. Two sets of standing committees have additional responsibilities over the money: the House Ways and Means and Senate Finance Committees oversee taxation and other revenue, and the House and Senate Appropriations Committees oversee appropriations (government spending, see Part 0).
Select Committees (sometimes called Special Committees) are established by a separate resolution in the chamber, and can be permanent or temporary. They exist because the existing list of standing committees doesn't cover an issue area that a chamber thinks is important. Famous select committees include committees meant to advise but without jurisdiction (the House Select Committee on Energy Independence and Global Warming was advisory, but most of its advice related to things under the jurisdiction of House Approps Energy & Water, House Science, House Energy), or often they're meant to investigate but not legislate (the House Special Committee on Un-American Activities Authorized to Investigate Nazi Propaganda and Certain Other Propaganda Activities, the Senate Select Committee on Presidential Campaign Activities, and the House Select Committee on Benghazi famously fell in this camp).
You also have Joint Committees, made up of Members of both chambers. Nowadays a lot of joint committees are permanent panels that conduct studies or perform housekeeping tasks between the chambers. The most famous (and usually most important) versions of these, though, are the Conference Committees, temporary joint committees formed to resolve differences in Senate- and House-passed versions of a measure.

Exclusivity

This is where things become complicated.

"Political parties suck" - George Washington

And he was absolutely right, but unfortunately they've become completely embedded in the fabric of the Congress.
A sub-level of Congressional rules that I haven't gone over yet are party rules. Sure, the House is partisan and majoritarian (see Part 1), but what does that mean for the individual Member of Congress? Well here's one manifestation of that. Both of the organized parties in both chambers (therefore, 4 groups in total) have their own rules about additional categorizations of committees.
In the House, there are exclusive and non-exclusive committees that are entirely dictated by party rules (and frankly, party norms). Generally, if a member sits on an exclusive committee, they don't sit on any others, but their party can grant them a waiver. Both the Democratic Caucus and Republican Conference recognize that the House Committee on:

• Appropriations,
• Ways and Means,
• Rules,
• Energy & Commerce, and
• Financial Services

are on their exclusive lists. The rest are non-exclusive. This is a formal thing in Democratic Caucus documents, and a long standing Republican practice, so let's see how the party of old fashioned values keeps that alive as we potentially head into our 3rd speaker in the 118th.
In the Senate, there are "A," "B," and "C," committees that are set by Senate Rule XXV (thereby preserving some defense against majoritarianism in the superior chamber), but there are also "Super A" committees set by the party conferences (thereby defiling that defense they just fucking set). Under most normal circumstances, a Senator "shall" serve on two "A" committees, "may" serve on one "B" committee, and don't need to worry about limits on "C" committees. Beyond that, if a party decides one of the "A" committees is going to be a "Super A" for them, then Senators who conference with that party can only serve on that "Super A" and no other "Super A's".
Here are the "C" committees, with no restrictions:

• Ethics
• Indian Affairs
• Joint on Taxation
• Joint on the Library
• Joint on Printing

Here are the "B" committees, where the Senators can join either just one, or none at all:

• Budget
• Rules & Administration
• Veterans' Affairs
• Small Business
• Aging
• Joint Economic

And here are the "A" Committees, where every Senator must serve on exactly two:

• Agriculture, Nutrition, and Forestry
• Appropriations
• Armed Services
• Banking, Housing, and Urban Affairs
• Commerce, Science, and Transportation
• Energy & Natural Resources
• Environment & Public Works
• Finance
• Foreign Relations
• Homeland Security & Governmental Affairs
• Judiciary
• Health, Education, Labor, and Pensions
• Intelligence

At least based on the last time I read the rules, both the Democrats and the Republicans think Appropriations, Armed Services, and Finance should have "Super A" status, but only the Republicans think Foreign Relations should also be a "Super A" committee because go fuck yourself. Also, these rules can either be waived by the party or the chamber depending on whose rules we're playing by.

Steering, Policy, and other Party Committees

"Political parties suck" - George Washington

And he was absolutely right, but unfortunately they've become completely embedded in the fabric of the Congress.
In both chambers, the parties have additional committees that specifically sort out matters involving their party's positions, rules, and delegation of responsibilities, as opposed to the legislative work of the committees of the chamber itself. Just to give some flavor of a few you have the:
House Democratic Steering and Policy Committee These guys put together the lists of which House Dems are going to serve on which committees, and which of those people will be in a leadership position on that committee (we'll talk more about that later). They also decide on which policies are officially part of the House Democratic policy agenda. Their biggest incentives are: growing the House Dem majority, helping a Dem in the White House, destroying a House Republican majority, and harming a Republican in the White House.
Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee These guys are the official campaign arm of the Democrats in the House. They're completely separate from the Congress, but DCCC leadership sits on the Steering & Policy Committee, mostly to serve as an electoral sanity check on committee assignments and the policy agenda. Even though they're not staffed by congressional staff, they're always chaired by a Democratic Member of the House.
House Democratic Committee on Caucus Procedures Exist to amend the rules you find here.
House Democratic Policy and Communications Committee Take the work that the other House Dem committees here put together and work on messaging them correctly given their audience. DPCC leadership also sits on the Steering & Policy Committee, to make sure they don't make Public Affairs nightmares in the same way as the DCCC tries to avoid electoral nightmares.
House Republican Steering Committee These guys put together lists of which House Republicans are going to serve on which committees, and which of those people will be in that committee's leadership. Again, they exist here to put people in the right place so they can help the GOP and hurt the Dems.
House Republican Committee on Policy These guys holistically look at what House Republicans are proposing in legislation, and either change it to be more in favor of the House Republican agenda, promote it if it's already in favor of the House Republican agenda, or adopt it as part of the House Republican agenda if they think "hey, we should all be doing that." Recently they've spent a lot of time focused on shitting on what the Democrats are doing, and sometimes shitting on what the Democrats have nothing to do with at all but still blaming them anyway.
National Republican Congressional Committee Same as the DCCC, but for House Republicans.
Senate Democratic Policy & Communications Committee A research committee that makes recommendations on what Senate democrats should adopt as policies and how they should communicate them, but much less powerful than its House counterparts. Still though, goals are always to help the Dems and hurt the GOP, but with particular focus on matters beyond the Senate.
Senate Democratic Steering & Outreach Committee Another steering committee to decide who's on which committee and who's in charge, but this time for Senate Dems.
Senate Democratic Committee on Conference Rules Amend these rules this time.
Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee Back on our campaign shit. Basically the DCCC for Senate Dems, with a much harder job because unlike the DCCC, Senate elections are more expensive and happen less often (and they can get inconsistent if somebody retires before their class of Senators is up for reelection).
Senate Republican Policy Committee You know what's crazy? I can't tell you exactly what these guys do. The Senate Republican Conference rules are hidden behind party lines on TrunkLine (the Senate Republican intranet). I can find the 117th's rules, but the 118th? Nowhere public. And I'm not that pressed to ask one of my exes in a Republican office to send them my way.
But generally speaking they pick the Republican party line in the Senate. Especially as it pertains to sticking it to the Dems.
Senate Republican Committee on Committees A steering committee in everything but name. They pick who goes where and who goes where with the burden of leadership, as long as that "who" is a Senate Republican. These are the dickheads that put Rand Paul on HSGAC to spite Gary Peters, the Democratic party, and lovers of good governance everywhere, and I'll never forgive them for it.
National Republican Senatorial Committee Take a guess.
So, in addition to their official duties in running the country, Senators and Representatives (and some of their staff) spend a lot of time also doing their part to run their party. They work on assigning people to the right legislative committee, considering what the party line is and trying to make sure their personal and parochial interests align with that party line, and making sure they and more people like them can get elected to further all those objectives (and, implicitly, making sure fewer people like the guys on the other side of the aisle get elected too).
"But Firedistinguishers," I hear you calling out from your wine caves, "this seems like so much work. And since there's a finite number of legislators (itself a contentious issue), doesn't all this work come on top of the tasks of helping their constituents and running their country that they were elected to do in the first place?"
Yeah. It's a serious effort. On the House side especially, where the parties are much more powerfully involved, you hear about the young members who get a chance to join one of these party committees never leaving the Capitol Office Complex for weeks on end so they (and their staff) can get all this work done.
"But come on Firedistinguishers," you reply, as you shovel another wad of dark money into the engines of the political machines you tend, "does the added work not entirely confirm President Washington's prediction that pursuit of maintaining a party coalition 'distract[s] the Public Councils and enfeeble[s] the Public Administration,' especially considering the Rand Paul example and how you describe so much of the work of these extracurricular activities being expressly for the purposes of making sure the other party finds as little success as possible in the same way that President Washington foretold that 'the alternate domination of one faction over another, sharpened by the spirit of revenge, natural to party dissension, which in different ages and countries has perpetrated the most horrid enormities, is itself a frightful despotism. But this leads at length to a more formal and permanent despotism,' which we now see before us as this nation is subject to the oppression of inactivity in the face of glaring issues?!"
Yes.
Political parties suck.

Committees of the 118th Congress

Here's the list of Committees in the House
Here's the list of Committees in the Senate

Who's on these things?

Representatives and Senators, of various backgrounds and levels of decency. But how do they get on there? Now that's a good question.
Committee assignments are important. They dictate what an individual Member of Congress is going to spend a lot of time working on (or not), and what they'll be known for (or not). There's obviously powerful committees like approps (where you get to decide how the country spends its money, and if you're good at your job direct that money to things that benefit your constituents), or House Rules (read Part 2 if you want to see how cracked these guys can be).
But even if you're on something that has lower legislative output, serving on a committee dictates which hearings you'll be in, which means it dictates where a lot of the potential clips that your campaign might use come from. Even if a committee only marks up like 4 bills that make it to law in a Congress (low number to make a point), the people on the committee will still have hundreds of hours of free campaign material in the form of CSPAN footage of them asking substantive or politically charged questions to witnesses in an open setting to prove they're the champion of something.
Lawyers and attention seekers want to be on Judiciary (it's the biggest battleground), border hawks want to be on Homeland (shocking that this one isn't the biggest battleground), "healthcare pls" types want to get on H.E.L.P. (this one SHOULD be a bigger battleground), and decent human beings and one asshole want to be on Indian Affairs (guess who).
So how do you get on one of these things?

In the House

The House needs to elect members of its standing committees within 7 calendar days after the start of a Congress. Of course, like all Congressional Rules, the House can waive this requirement. Usually nowadays they appoint a few members within those 7 days, and then keep adding as time goes on.
House Rule X limits Representatives to serving on two standing committees, and four subcommittees (two on each, three and one sometimes). Again, they can waive these rues.
Some committees in the House have pretty specific requirements on composition. For example, House Budget needs to be comprised of:

• 5 Members from Appropriations
• 5 Members from Ways and Means
• 1 Member from Rules
• 1 Member hand picked by the Majority's leadership, and
• 1 Member hand picked by the Minority's leadership

Democrats

House Dems are nominated to serve on a committee either by the Caucus' Steering Committee, or the Party Leader (either the Speaker or the Minority Leader, depending on where the majority lands), and then they're approved by the full caucus in a simple majority vote of members present and voting (this is NOT done by secret ballot by default, you have to get 10 people to ask for one to get that to happen), before being proposed to the full House Chamber. Here's the breakdown:

Committee	Steering Committee Nominates Membership	Party Leader Nominates Membership
Agriculture	X
Appropriations	X
Armed Services	X
Budget	All but One Member (the Chair is picked by the whole Caucus)	That Last Guy
Education and Labor	X
Energy and Commerce	X
Ethics	X
Financial Services	X
Foreign Affairs	X
Homeland Security	X
House Administration		X
Judiciary	X
Natural Resources	X
Oversight and Reform	X
Rules		X
Science, Space, and Technology	X
Small Business	X
Transportation and Infrastructure	X
Veterans’ Affairs	X
Ways and Means	X
Special, select, & other committees		X

Republicans

Same as the Dems basically, except the Republicans confirmations within the Conference are always by secret ballot.
But hey, another party another chart:

Committee	Steering Committee Nominates Membership	Party Leader Nominates Membership
Agriculture	X
Appropriations	X
Armed Services	X
Budget	All but 1 Member (including the Chair)	That Last Guy (can't be the Chair)
Education and Labor	X
Energy and Commerce	X
Ethics	X
Financial Services	X
Foreign Affairs	X
Homeland Security	X
House Administration		X
Judiciary	X
Natural Resources	X
Oversight and Reform	X
Rules		X
Science, Space, and Technology	X
Small Business	X
Transportation and Infrastructure	X
Veterans’ Affairs	X
Ways and Means	X
Special, select, & other committees		X

In the Senate

At the start of every Congress, Senators are appointed to Committees by simple resolutions for a floor vote. These are a typical Unanimous Consent (uppercase) situation, and they pass easily. Technically these resolutions can fail, and an individual name can be pulled from that list and voted on individually (in case somebody hates someone in particular), but let's pray to God none of these Senators realize they can do that.
Just like the House, ratios here are a matter of who has the majority and by how much. Sometimes you can't get rid of a compositional requirement like SSCI has, but come on let's get to the real juicy stuff right?

Democrats

Committee assignments up here are all based on recommendations from the Democratic Steering & Outreach Committee, subject to approval by the Conference. A big point of consideration here in the Senate are seniority, member preference, and past service on relevant committees. Unlike in the House which has this weird half-assed "we don't discriminate based on prior work experience, we only consider merit, length of service, degree of commitment to the Democratic agenda, diversity of the Caucus" and all that bs as they go on to totally discriminate based on prior work experience and just toss in some weird picks just to throw people off, the Senate is more like "yeah let's put people where they need to be."
The Steering Committee can't recommend two members from the same state for the same committee unless a waiver is granted by the whole Conference, and like the House these committee appointments should reflect the diversity of the Democrats. Pretty notably, freshman members are assigned, whenever possible, to at least one major committee of their choice, but if you ask for a thicker slice than usual you usually have to back it up with something (see: my former Boss' deal to get on the Appropriations Committee as a freshman Senator).
Like we talked about a few paragraphs ago, certain committees (Appropriations, Armed Services, Finance) are "Super A" material, and therefore exclusive, so members may not serve on more than one unless waivers are granted.
Oh and sportsmanship matters here. If a member is removed from a committee due to changes in the majority-minority ratio, they have the first claim to the next available seat on that committee. If a member voluntarily gives up their seat on a committee to accommodate another member's request and later wishes to rejoin, they also retain the next available seat on that committee, and their seniority.

Republicans

Couldn't tell you, TrunkLine shit.

Who's in charge?

The two most important (and sometimes the two only important) members of a committee are its chair and its ranking member. Legally, the authority of the committee almost always sits entirely with these two, heavily weighted towards the former of course. I've thrown these terms around a bit, but it's important to just hold that in practice, usually these are the people who actually want to get things done on the committee, they're the ones that most of the committee staff report to, and they have some additional capabilities that just some random member on the committee won't have.
The chair has "control of the dais" (that big desk or series of desks they sit at), meaning they're officially the ones running the show when the committee is convened, and "control of the calendar" which means they decide when the committee convenes and what it's supposed to do with itself when it gets together. They also have control of the money that the Clerk of the House or the Secretary of the Senate give them, hence why they control the staff.
The ranking member has control of their party. Sometimes.

Subcommittees

Instead of the old structure where you'd have individual matters appearing before independent committees that may or may not contain overlapping members (and therefore overlapping expertise), with absolutely no accountability to each other, committees today have one additional step-down group in the form of subcommittees.
Their roles? Varied. Always defined in the committee's rules adopted by the chair and ranking member.
Their membership? Varied. Always a smaller subset of members that sit on the full committee.
Their staff? Varied. Some of them have teams of highly independent staff, some of them have people who are dual-hatted between the chair or ranking member's personal office and the committee, and some of them have people who blur the line between the full committee and subcommittee.
Their usefulness? Varied. Entirely depends on what fucking phase of the moon we're in.

Who does the work here?

If you've read Part 5 you know all about personal office staff, but I'm here to say that committees have their own staff too.
Top of the food chain on a committee is the Committee Staff Director, who serves in a similar role to a personal office's Chief of Staff. They're usually hand picked by the chair, and they're usually a pretty involved boss, especially if they decide to dual-hat their roles with the job of one of their immediate reports: the Director of Legislation (a Committee's equivalent to the personal office's LD) and the Director of Oversight.

A quick callout box on Oversight: A big role these committees is that they serve as the fountainhead of the ability for executive departments and agencies to do their jobs. Every agency, therefore, has at least one associated authorizing committee (to give them the legal right to do what they do), an appropriations subcommittee (to fund those activities they have the right to do), and an oversight committee (to check and see if they're doing a good job). I'll explain this more in my next post.

Beneath these 3, you have 3 buckets:
The smallest is usually communications. Unlike personal office press shops, which exist in this limbo of making sure your boss gets reelected while also kind of spitting out facts, committee communications shops mostly stick to the facts plus some political tint. Here you have your Communications Director, who is in charge of some Communications Assistants/Communications Managers/Digital Assistants/Digital Coordinators/Digital Directors, that all kind of do the same job of writing what the committee is up to, taking and editing video, and spreading that to where it needs to go.
Administrative staff are the lifeblood of actually getting the work done, and they're also usually the most disparate in responsibility. Committee Staff Assistants spend their time keeping time during hearings, filling printers, and answering phones. Committee Clerks fit in this weird in-between of scheduling and sometimes helping policy staff if they dual-hat as a Legislative Assistant (more on them later). They can very much be the bottom rung of the ladder. But on the complete opposite end of the spectrum, committees usually have a Director of Member Services that serves as the nexus for inquiries under the committee's jurisdiction, convenes the new member orientations and new staff orientations, dispenses internal comms to the personal offices of the committee's membership. Then you have committee Parliamentarian(s), who are the ones who've sufficiently internalized the chamber, committee, and party rules (if they're on a committee that designates its admin staff to one party, not all of them do, especially in the Senate), to be able to tell the members how to actually go about the activities they're trying to do at the committee level. Here's a great clip where you can see how even experienced legislators who know some of the rules need to rely on these guys to tell them how to make these things operate. Again, important work at all levels, but it's VERY split.
Finally you have the legislative staff. These people are responsible for writing most of the law. Subcommittee Staff Directors are a combination between the full committee's staff director, director of legislation, and director of oversight, leading a small team focused on a particular set of issues within the larger committee's jurisdiction. They lead and liaise with Professional Staff Members and Counsel, whose roles are IDENTICAL but they get different names because one contingent has a JD and the other does not. These guys are deep knowledge experts about something, and serve either a subcommittee directly or the full committee, and they're the ones who actually do the work associated with creating legislation and considering oversight. They worked their way up from a more junior role (like a Committee Legislative Assistant who reports to them and might have their own portfolio sometimes), maybe they're coming from an agency full time to oversee the programs they used to be part of, or on detail from an agency or think tank or non profit that's given them the chance to be a Fellow (essentially a stand in for any job on this list, but their salary is paid for by an organization outside the Congress; seriously they can be a glorified intern or they can be a career civil servant who you should treat like a staff director in everything but name).

An Inconclusive Conclusion

Turns out you can only post 40,000 characters at a time. So I'm splitting this up into 3 posts. Join us next time when we talk about the work these guys actually do.

It's FINALLY here after over a MONTH! Admittedly, I did procrastinate most of that time, then I got a surge of energy and wrote the remaining 1/2-1/3rd over 2 days. I was playing Order on loop during that time, as well as writing nearly the entire chapter, so thank you Hakita, very cool :3 JUDGEMENT
Do note that this chapter has gone through noticeably less proof-reading compared to my other ones, and I feel like quite a few parts of the chapter are awkward/not great to read/whatever, so if you spot any of those issues please tell me and i'll get it fixed. hopefully. maybe. (also if you feel a general drop of quality in this chapter compared to the other ones)
also, go read Hello New Sector if you haven't already. The chances of TWO NOP/starsector crossover fanfictions going at the same time is nearly zero, so go support the guy :3c
Credit for The Nature of Predators goes to SpacePaladin15, and credit for Starsector goes to Fractal Softworks.
This fanfiction is going to contain HEAVY spoilers for Starsector, and they will not be censored for the sake of readability. If you are interested in the game and have not yet experienced it, I encourage you to do that before reading this fanfiction.
This fanfic will heavily bend and break the rules of Starsector, so keep in mind the fanfic is not completely representative of the Starsector experience.
First ---------- Previous ----------
Memory transcription subject: William, codename “Magpie”, UN Special Operative
Date [Standardized human time]: October 18, 2136
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
I bolted out of my seat the moment I heard MIRV’s comms degrade into static. I heard some surprised expressions and people calling out both my name and codename, but I ignored them and grabbed an EVA suit. I put it on preemptively and bolted out of the building, seeing security out the corners of my eyes; they were much too slow, however, and I was on my way to the spaceport before anyone could grab me.
I lost track of time as I focused on getting to any surface-to-orbit shuttle I could. I noticed my pad vibrating and I brought it out of my pocket, and it revealed my psychologist was calling me. Looking at the missed calls, it was obvious the spec ops guys went up the ladder to try and contact me before one of the higher-ups decided to get my psychologist to call me instead. I declined the call after realizing that. That should make them realize how serious I'm taking this; I never decline a call from my psychologist normally. Still racing over to the shuttle hangers, I saw a nearby military transport shuttle with an airlock. Perfect.
The guards hanging out on the edge of the open airlock raised their rifles at me as the soldiers inside all looked at me, also preparing their own weapons. “You are not authorized to be here, human. Leave now.” I slowed down and reached for my pad again, navigating it to the paycheck I got a few days ago. I haven’t bought many groceries, but I’ll make do. I flipped the pad over to the soldiers and showed them the screen. “Maybe some cash can change that?” I asked, staring directly at the guard that had spoken up whilst still walking over to the shuttle. The soldiers inside quickly stowed away their weapons, and the other guard had lowered his as well. The guard that spoke up looked around, sighed, then also finally lowered his weapon. “Thank you.” I responded in kind, walking inside the shuttle and taking an open seat.
“Where do you want me to take you, human?” The pilot asked without turning around. I gave him a paper with Xavier’s last known coordinates scribbled onto it. “Just wait for me at the nearest station after you drop me off, alright?” The pilot flicked an ear, then nodded, remembering humans didn’t communicate with ear or tail movements. Several uneventful minutes passed by as the shuttle crew ran some last-minute check-ups, started the engines, and launched the shuttle off the ground, the guards left behind to help with other military shuttles.
“So what makes you want to get up into orbit so quickly?” The soldier directly across from me asked. Everyone still seemed to be on edge from me, but it looked like it was more about my size rather than me being a human. Fair, I also tend to startle other humans from my size, and the EVA suit certainly doesn’t help, either. “You know that arxur bomber looking thing that went invisible?” Everyone flicked their ears, then nodded as they realized they made the same mistake as the pilot, which made me chuckle slightly. “A friend of mine was in a fighter chasing after it, but got hit by those strange energy balls. I’m going up there to make sure he’s okay.” Another, shorter venlil next to me spoke up. “Must be desperate if you’re willing to part with your entire paycheck, pred- human. Apologies.”
I shrugged. “It’s alright, I’m used to it. As for the paycheck, I’ll live. I need to burn some fat off anyways, I’ve been eating too much recently.” “You do realize that paycheck is enough to feed our families for a month, right?” The pilot asked as he turned towards me, turning on autopilot. “Yeah.” I responded simply. The pilot looked like they had other questions to ask, but kept to themselves. Most of the venlils in the shuttle started chatting amongst themselves, with the small one directly next to me being the sole exception. Their expression slowly turned crestfallen, and they eventually mumbled out “I wish I still had a family to feed…”
…Given what happened to Sydney, that should hit me like a truck. But it doesn’t. Some of his venlil buddies looked over at him with concern on their faces. Regardless of that, I slowly reached over to him and wrapped him in a gentle but firm hug, comforting him while everyone else in the shuttle looked at us in what looked like shock. “Me too, brother. Me too…” I responded to him, keeping my composure, as images of my suddenly-deceased family members flashed through my mind.
A few seconds passed, and he started sobbing lightly into my arms.
The rest of the flight was overall uneventful, excluding the grieving venlil in my arms. After a while, my heart sank as I saw a pile of debris, but then immediately gave me hope once I saw a mostly-intact fighter in the general direction of the debris cloud. “Well lads, that looks like my stop. Thanks.” I let go of the small venlil, who was still crying, and froze myself. He shouldn’t be left to deal with this alone. I hastily scribbled down the phone number of my psychologist on a piece of paper and handed it to the venlil who presumably lost their family.
“Here, it’s the contact number of my psychologist. Put that number into your pad and you can call him.” The small venlil was still sniffling when he said “Psy…cologist? W-what’s that?” “It’s someone who…” I paused, as I struggled to describe the concept of mental health to a society that labels every mental condition as insanity. Predator disease, my ass. “...Helps you understand your own brain. He’s good with trauma, so I suggest speaking to him.” I responded, talking softly. “What do humans know about the brain that we wouldn’t?” One of the other venlil said, curiosity in his tone of voice. Not condescending? That's a first. “Well, your society engages in practices that we have abandoned for…” I looked something up on my pad. “...Roughly 250 years? Give or take?” I wiggled my hand around in the air. “I can’t explain it all by myself, but to put it simply, we know this stuff better than you do.” I finished responding. I hugged the mourning venlil one last time before making my way over to the airlock.
“Remember lads, I’ll give you your payment back at the station, so don’t leave without me, pilot!” I yelled out, the airlock doors closing behind me. I waited for the atmosphere to vent, and the pilot reoriented the ship for the airlock to face the wrecked fighter before opening the doors. I jumped out the ship, coasting over to what was presumably my friend’s fighter. I activated the thrusters on my EVA suit, making small course corrections along the way. Anxiety filled my mind as it ran through every possible thing that could’ve happened to Xavier.
Slowly, but steadily, I drifted over to the fighter, until I was able to grab onto the heavily damaged frame. The wings were half-absent, half-eviscerated, and one of the engines was totally destroyed. The rest of the fighter looked to be peppered in shrapnel of varying sizes and materials. …Oh no. The anxiety was quickly replaced with a growing sense of dread, as I very slowly made my way to the cockpit. I finally look into the cockpit, and… There he is!
Relief flowed through me as I saw Xavier in the cockpit; I was able to tell because he switched his helmet out for an emergency oxygen tank and a facemask. His leg was bandaged and bloody. Given the size of the shrapnel I saw outside, it’s not hard to imagine why… Besides the leg, he looked completely fine. The electrical grid also looked like it was completely fried, given the severe electrical burns I could see behind some of the panels. And the damage. That too. He finally noticed me and stared directly into my eyes with his signature, expressionless stare. A big smile spread across my face despite nobody being able to see through my EVA suit’s visor. Yep… that's definitely him.
All of a sudden, the void of space was replaced with dull white panels, with one last view of the empty space around Venlil prime being replaced by said dull white panels. Given the visuals, I was sure we were in a ship; maybe a cargo bay of sorts. How’d I not see the ship approaching? Gravity returned out of nowhere, and I banged my body against the cockpit, and then the floor as I bounced off, groaning in pain. Xavier’s fighter made some loud clangs as it fell down, and I worked quickly to open the cockpit, fighting against the pain in my body.
I took off my helmet and hugged him right after he got down on the ground.
However, I realized something was very, very wrong with this… what seemed like a cargo bay immediately afterwards, confirming what I originally thought of earlier. The lights that were still functional were flickering, some of them actively sparking. The majority of the storage devices appeared to be damaged or destroyed in one way or another; there were traces of an ammo explosion in one of the corners. Holes of varying sizes littered the walls, and exposed everything from dangling, sparking wires, to leaking fluids of unknown compositions. Despite this, however, all of the damage seemed… off. The walls around what was presumably an ammo stockpile weren’t bulged and looked completely unphased, and the sparking from the wires seemed eerily consistent. The shrapnel glimmered with an unnatural glint, and the panels looked as orderly as they did chaotic, seemingly slowly shifting, like they were… organic? What in the fuck happened here…?
Xavier, almost like he was reading my mind, analyzed the damage in this cargo room out loud. “Such a clean-cut through armour would only be achievable with a projectile going a significant fraction of the speed of light, but the ship remains intact. The panels look just as ordered and machined as they do chaotic and organic, like a plant’s cells. The consistent sparking from damaged electronics look like blood pumped from a heart, and…” He leaned into a nearby damaged panel. “...It seems like the metal panels are repairing themselves in tune with each electrical pulse…” he finished, confusion evident in his voice. He paused, as both of us took a moment to understand the information we’ve gathered. “Perplexing, and perhaps, equally worrying.” He stated once again. You can say that again…
Dread filled my mind as I realized this was not merely a “ship”, but seemingly a living, breathing organism brutally combined with metal and electronics; like some sort of cyborg frankenstein. Despite this, however, it was still obvious this was not an actual organism, but a ship that was built in a shipyard.
Only the mind of a madman could come up with all of this. This is a cosmic horror, barely within human comprehension… And we’re standing inside of it.
Suddenly, some doors nearby opened, and revealed a very familiar individual in a full-body suit.
Goliath.
Memory transcription subject: Unknown, codename “Goliath”, Independent fleet commander
Date [Standardized human time]: October 18, Cycle 218 post-collapse
“Welcome, gentlemen, on my humble flagship!” I said ecstatically, despite the still actively-healing shrapnel wounds I had endured on the flight to escape the planet. “My apologies for both the trashed cargo bay and my delay. We’ve…” I looked behind me into the hallway behind the door, watching medical personnel and engineers with heavy body armour rush by. “...Experienced some technical difficulties.” Chuckling nervously afterwards, despite the disaster that happened on the Xenorphica. I started walking over to the pair, and realized the fighter was firmly too small to be a two-seater. “That's a single seat fighter, but there’s two of you. Do you have an explanation?”
“Xavier was the pilot of the fighter-” Xavier. Got it. “-but I came over with the help of a… convinced military shuttle and an EVA suit.” William stated through gritted teeth, anger evident in his voice. Well, I DID shoot his friend… “Apologies for shooting your friend there, I needed to relay a message to him.” William seemed confused, then Xavier spoke up. “The load of that shotgun shell seemed to be a signal booster of sorts. The message was “I have a deal to make with you, do not move the fighter.”” A moment passed, and understanding flashed in Williams eyes; the anger was still there, but was fading. “Well… are we going to continue with that deal now?” He responded. I’m surprised that he’s receptive to a deal, though considering I can infer he’s spec ops, I suppose it shouldn’t be too surprising. And especially considering Xavier’s… to be frank, blatant neglect.
“Xavier, your organization…” I looked over at the insignia on the side of the wrecked fighter. “...The UN? Is that right?” They both nodded. Excellent. “Anyways, the UN is heavily mistreating you, to the point of complete neglect.” Xavier looked at me with curiosity in his eyes, and my guards had arrived after helping with the wounded. One of them smiled and waved at Xavier specifically, which turned that curiosity into confusion. “I’ve helped out psychopaths in the past, and the guard that’s being friendly towards you is one of them.”
“I can personally vouch in favour of Goliath’s treatment towards people like us.” The psychopath guard - Hamish, if I recalled correctly - stated, noticeably expressing emotions without actively trying. This took Xavier a moment to process, and I saw hope in his eyes. I smiled wider than I normally do, my holographic face exaggerating it even more. “I WILL improve your life if you take this deal. You just have to work with me and be my spy.” In a heartbeat - literally, according to the suit’s heartbeat sensor - Xavier had his answer. “It would be a pleasure to accept your deal, Goliath.”
Excellent. Not only do I now have a spy within the UN, I can help Xavier improve his quality of li-
My thinking was interrupted by the sounds of a magnetic holster opening, then very quickly followed by the sound of a kinetic gun being primed to fire. I stood still for a moment as I saw William had pulled out a pistol and aimed it directly at my head. “What about me?” He stated, anger still in his voice, quickly followed by my guards priming their own weapons and aiming them at William, barking orders to surrender and disarm himself. Xavier kept silent, but was staring daggers into William, though most people wouldn’t pick up on that with his expressionless face.
One critical detail stuck out at me like a sore thumb, however; he didn’t flinch when our guns were trained on him. At all.
Looking down the barrel of the kinetic sidearm, there was no ammunition loaded into the chamber either. I slowly gestured to my guards to lower their guns. While they were doing that, I saw some medical personnel peeking into the trashed cargo bay from the hallway. I shooed them off with the flick of my hand, looking at William once again. I noticed what seemed like the safety was on for the gun as well, after looking at the gun again. “Special forces personnel wouldn’t make the mistake of aiming an unloaded firearm, with the safety on, at someone like me, would they?” I asked. “I sure hope not.” William said in return, with what now seemed like faux-anger. So he knows.
I thought out loud for everyone to hear, and for my own sake as well. “Not flinching in the slightest when multiple guns are trained on you, aiming an unloaded firearm at an exceptionally dangerous person, calming down but still showing off a fabricated anger…” I thought for a couple of moments, until something clicked in my brain. I decided to take the gamble. I looked him directly in his eyes and cocked one of my eyebrows up, my holographic face mimicking mine, remembering the other time I had encountered this exact pattern of behaviour. “You’re testing me, aren’t you, William?”
Another moment passed, and then William started laughing. He threw his gun up slightly and caught it by the barrel, extending it out to me for me to grab off of him. “Read me like a book, mate!” Looks like the gamble paid off. I declined grabbing his gun. “Why are you already on-board with accepting a deal like this, without any motivation?” I asked William, confusion evident in my voice.
“With how the UN dealt with evacuating Sydney, the only loyalties I have left are a paycheck and Xavier.” He responded, leaning over to hug Xavier. It was only then I realized how tall he was, having a solid extra head of height over his friend, even without the EVA suit. “With you taking Xavier, I might as well come along for the ride as well. Don’t even need to pay me if you don’t want to.” My guards snickered at that. Yeah, they know I treat my spies well.
“Best I can do is tripling your paycheck.” I stated simply, stretching my hand out to prompt a handshake, my holographic face morphing into a shit-eating grin. William chuckled, shaking my hand vigorously. “I like your sense of humour, Goliath. It’s a deal.” He let go of my hand after a few moments. “Well, with all of that sorted out, I suppose I should give both of you your datapads.” I stated, the smug grin on my helmet gone as I pulled out a couple of Tri-tachyon branded datapads and handed them over to Xavier and William. “You already have datapads of some sort, so operating one of these should be second-nature. I’ve already set them up so you have comms between yourselves, Yorin - my Venlil friend - and the fleet.” Xavier and William took the datapads and already started poking around. “You can personally message anyone you know of on those pads, so you can interact with people in my fleet whenever and possibly make new friends.”
A few moments of silence passed as I let them tinker with the datapads. “It shows here that Yorin doesn’t share the fleet’s communication server with us. Why is that?” Xavier broke the silence, curiosity in his voice despite an otherwise signature unreadable expression. “Well, I would have given him access to the fleet’s server, but, uhh…” I looked at my own pad and looked through some of the more… unhinged text channels. “...He wouldn’t be ready for it. Mentally.” After saying that I got a direct message from one of the COMSEC officers; the venlil fleet had started recovery operations. “Well, looks like we’ll have to cut this reunion of sorts short.” I gave them both a few extra datapads. “Have some extra datapads in case you break yours, don’t worry about the cost, I’m not running out of money any time soon. Good luck!”
I started walking away when William yelled out, making me stop in my tracks. “Oi! What’s the security like on these things? How are your ships invisible? Do we have to be careful with messaging you?” I laughed. “Security level SUPER ALABASTER, my friends. Can’t tell you any more than that.” I lied, just to get them out of the airlock quickly; the zone Xavier’s fighter was in is one of the first to be searched by recovery personnel. “You can add that to my file you guys have on me as well, make it look like you’re doing good work while leading them on a wild goose chase.” My guards quickly walked over to a disconnected part of the wing we had recovered along with the fighter. “Materials analysis.” One of them stated simply when Williams asked them about it. Xavier asked them why we were in such a rush, then he quickly got back into the trashed fighter’s cockpit along with Williams, despite his wounds, as they realized the time limit we were on. “They won’t be able to crack the security! So contact me any time!” I yelled out at them, walking out into the hallway as I heard from the distance the airlock engaging and cycling.
I walked over to the bridge of the Xenorphica, and, in extension, my bedroom. I saw a heavily wounded technician pass by on a stretcher, and a pang of guilt briefly entered my mind. Despite overclocking the mote attractors being a necessity, I still caused these injuries directly. I sighed, continuing to walk to the cockpit, being reminded of the shrapnel getting through my armour plating and my cracked visor as I passed a mirror. I entered the bridge, immediately asking for a casualty report. The crew’s safety and wellbeing is, and always will be, my number one priority. A few minutes passed, the bridge buzzing with activity, before someone spoke up. “Everyone is accounted for, and there’s been no death-”
What?
“No deaths? Bullshit! Show me the report!” I shouted over at the medical officer. He shrugged, and printed out the report, then walked over to me and handed it to me. I looked at the death list…
Holy shit, he’s right.
“Sure, there’s detached limbs and destroyed organs. But everyone is expected to survive. You can see a list of injured personnel who we suspect will require extensive rehabilitation to have a full recovery.” Well, a trip to Nomios can fix all of those… I flipped over the page, still amazed with the complete lack of deaths among the fleet. The list was still small, compared to what I would have expected. I laughed maniacally after seeing that. This is sheer dumb luck. Nothing else can explain this. I stood up, a burst of energy coming to me, rapidly walking over to the medical officer’s desk and gently putting the printed out report back on his desk. “I’m giving every single person in this fleet a raise.” I yelled out to nobody in particular on the fleet-wide comms, walking over to the door of my bedroom.
All of the officers looked at me wide-eyed, and fleet comms had died down significantly once again. “How much?” my chief COMSEC officer asked in return. “Double.” I responded plainly, pulling out my concealed carry shotgun and putting it on the gun rack outside my room, letting anyone put it back in the armoury for me. Exceptionally loud cheers and yells were audible, both from the bridge and the fleet-wide comms network. I chuckled, then closed the door to my bedroom, walking down a hallway connecting that door to my bedroom and no other room inside the ship; The Singing gradually getting louder and louder until I got into my bedroom proper.
I took off my visor and placed it on a glowing plate of sorts, letting it be repaired overnight. My armoured suit got a similar treatment, as I saw it slowly get dragged off automatically to a hidden compartment to have it repaired overnight for me. Inspecting my body in the mirror revealed that all the shrapnel was gone, with my wounds already no longer bleeding. Those suits do wonders for a speedy recovery, I thought to myself, as I lied down in my bed and turned off the lights, The Singing louder in my bedroom than any other part of the ship as it helped me drift off to sleep.
Most people that hear The Singing go insane from it. But for me? I find it especially calming and relaxing.
Memory transcription subject: Xavier, codename “MIRV”, “UN” Special Operative
Date [Standardized human time]: October 18, 2136
“It appears he wasn’t joking when he said he’d triple our salaries.” I stated simply to William, showing him the most recent payment in the account that popped up suddenly with no warning. He looked at me wide-eyed, then quickly checked his non-Goliath datapad to see if he got a payment. His eyes went even wider after a few moments. “Holy shit, the bugger actually did it.” The cockpit was quiet after that for a few minutes as we waited to go to the station William had requested. Then I interrupted the silence as a question came to my head. “Why hasn’t the UN helped me with my psychopathy before?” I asked out-loud.
William sighed heavily at that, taking me by surprise. “Do you have an answer?” “Unfortunately, yes, I do.” He responded. Slowly, he reached behind his back and pulled out a physical folder, with my name on it. “I’ve always carried this around with me, in case you ever asked this question.” He opened the folder to the first page and gave it to me, and I read it over. It was a form for psychological help, with all of the fields properly filled out, including William’s signature acting in place of mine. The date was…
“Yep.” William answered sadly, knowing which part I had read up to purely from my reaction.
It was obvious, even to me, that William was in pain just from remembering that day again. “Ever since then, I’ve tried to get you a psychologist. Monthly, plus any of the major operations we took part in. That day made me realize you’re the closest thing I’ve got to family. Minus my actual family, that is.” He paused. “Well, now they’re gone. But you’re not.” I flicked through the pages and, indeed, there was one forum signed by him every single month, including all of the major operations we took part in.
All of them were rejected.
I closed the folder and gave it back to William. I felt… no sadness or remorse from this. Or if it was, it was minimal. William, however… is definitely suffering from this. I leaned in and gave him a hug, to his surprise.
“Thank you for trying, William.”
We stayed like that, until we got onto the station. From there, we boarded another shuttle heading from the station to the surface, and William had started hugging a small Venlil he seemed to know. All the way down, I was thinking of the close call I had both today and in Washington those few years ago, how Goliath could help me with my psychopathy, and reevaluating what I thought about William.
I suppose I’ll have to inquire Goliath about the strange, pulsing, whispering ambiance I heard while on his ship another time.
Memory transcription subject: Yorin, Venlil ship mechanic
Date [Standardized human time]: October 18, 2136
“-e witness reports state Exterminators and Venlil special forces collaborating with UN special forces to presumably capture a human in a full-body suit.” The TV blared, sharing multiple low-but-good-enough quality photos taken from unknown civilians nearby. I dreaded seeing it, but in the middle of all of them, Goliath was there, with flamethrowers and guns pointed at him.
“A video taken by a civilian in a nearby building managed to catch the leadup to the firefight that was reported preceding the military action in orbit.” The TV switched to the video, all of the personnel shouting at Goliath before a loud bang went off, making him sprint away towards the newly-visible Arxur troop transport look-alike. A firefight started, then the footage got excessively shaky and ended moments later.
“The subject is unknown, outside of wearing a full-body suit. The UN has stated that the subject is not affiliated to the UN, and is actively investigating the unknown person themselves…” I zoned out as the news reporter repeated the UN’s statement, then turned the TV off after a while. This is… Not a good first impression for Goliath. At all…
Evidently, the arxur raid warning was a false alarm, so I did a few things to kill the time; browsing the internet, looking into the humans some more, playing online games being among them. Eventually though, I felt my strength sapping away as my body demanded sleep. Getting off the voice call I was in with some of my friends, I went over to my bed and tucked myself in. I chuckled to myself as one last thought entered my mind before I dozed off completely. I’ve barely spent any time at all with Goliath, yet I’m already treating him like a great friend of mine.
I guess he’s just charming like that.
^{i copy pasted this from google docs and all of the italics and bold stuff screwed up, so i had to do all of them manually >:C}

Hii, MOH here, not sure if this is allowed, but if so, I would really love any advice that can be offered on my situation. Thank you in advance!! 💗
warning long read
Problem: I (28F) want to step down as MOH in my friend’s (31F) wedding, I feel like it’s ruining our friendship, it’s become out of my budget and I’m afraid that by stepping down I’ll lose our friendship entirely & I’m not sure how to talk to her about this.
Context: I have only ever been in one wedding before this and in that experience as a bridesmaid, all that bride wanted was for us to buy our dresses ($50) and show up for rehearsal dinner & day of. I am also currently in graduate school, paying out of pocket while working and doing my internship hours. My friend (31F) makes double my salary, she knows this.
Details: My friend (31F) asked me to me be a bridesmaid in her wedding and I was super excited and asked what she expected while also being upfront that I had minimal experience and no clue what this would entail but was excited nonetheless to celebrate her and make room on my plate of responsibilities if she could give me clear expectations. She said no expectations, she just wanted someone to be excited with for planning her wedding because she also had no clue what goes into wedding planning. I helped her prep on the day of her bridesmaid proposal dinner, at this dinner she told us all (bridal party) that she did not want to have a MOH, and she wanted everyone instead to feel we were all “MOH Level” Since she got engaged (5 months before bridesmaid proposal dinner) and through this whole process leading to present day, I’ve been involved in ways like -giving her feedback on choosing a venue, save the dates, invitations, color palettes/schemes, seating, etc. -I helped organize her planning notes with things like Notion and Pinterest. -I coordinated scheduling virtual wedding party meetings (polling 18 people for availability, calendar invites, agenda setting and Google folders for notes). -I was on Pinterest with her and FaceTime calls figuring out what style of wedding dress she wanted & went with her twice for wedding dress shopping and FaceTimed in everyone who couldn’t make it. I also searched for a wedding photographer for her.
& Around this time (2 months post-bridesmaid dinner) she asked me to be her MOH. I then began trying to plan her bachelorette party (wanted to knock this out as much as possible before my new semester started) and 2 weeks into planning, she announces at the wedding meeting that they will do a joint bachelobachelorette party instead. —There has been no best man for this wedding and her fiancé doesn’t plan on picking someone because she says “his friends are flaky, always bail on hangouts, bdays, & milestone celebrations, etc.)” I will be planning the whole thing on my own. So to work with this change, I asked them a bunch of questions about their preferred activities, food, etc. because I don’t know her fiancé very well and want to plan something that will actually enjoy. I create a mock up of a whole weekend for 20 people, with activities & Airbnb, and her fiancé didn’t like it & instead of one weekend, he wanted multiple weekends over one month, so they scrapped the plans I put together.
I then make a survey asking the wedding party questions about budget, availability, preference of activities, suggestions, food allergies, etc. also asking if anyone would like to help with planning, and everyone said no they just want updates.
3 of her sisters are planning her bridal shower and announced to the bridal party that they have already put a deposit down for a restaurant for a brunch party of 40ppl and the bridal party will contribute to pay the bill $300 per person (7 of us excluding the sisters planning) they also said that I was apart of planning that in their announcement even though I wasn’t.
No one was happy with the price and said it was out of budget and asked for different options. One person called groom to complain and the bride called me to ask what was going on. I shared updates with her and asked if she was including all women in Groom’s party as she had wanted & as well for possible solution (more people more diving the cost) she tells me her sisters know that already, I say I’ll follow up to be sure. At some point she tells me how frustrating it is that people are saying the pricing is so high when on top of that she and her fiancé have been taking side jobs and gigs for extra money just to bring expenses down for everyone. At this point I was a bit surprised and her standpoint on this and rather than have a back and forth we ended the call and I’ve stepped back since to care for my mental health (I have a lot of other things on my plate in addition to this)
I announced to the bridal party and told her sisters planning separately too, that I would be pausing all planning until bridal shower details and pricing are worked out. The sisters did not actually include the women from Groom’s party and asked me to ask them to contribute and rsvp, this brought the price down to $194pp
3 people from the bridal party have reached out to me saying they will no longer be participating in bachelorette/bachelor weekend anymore because the expenses total are just too out of budget and they didn’t like how the bridal shower planning was approached. And to add to this, my husband just found out yesterday he is being let go from his job within the next quarter.
TLDR: my friend’s wedding is out of my budget now & my husband is getting let go from his job within the next quarter. 3 people from bridal party have dropped from the bachelorette/bachelor weekend celebration because the wedding expenses are becoming out of budget (bride doesn’t know yet) & she complained that she and her husband are working extra jobs to make expenses more affordable for people and no one appreciates it. I am feeling burnt out and not sure how to move forward without this crashing and burning our friendship + my mental health.
So far the cost of this wedding has been: $150, fabric of traditional culture wedding attire $300 for tailor (expense that was only shared later and not upfront) $580 for hotel at venue $50+ for American wedding attire (they are having two weddings) $194 (originally $300) for bridal shower $500 average budget for bachelobachelorette weekend estimated $1.8K (not including gifts yet)
Thank you!!

My husband is looking for work. He has almost 20 years experience in emergency vehicle upfitting, welding, metal fabrication, and hardware and software installations , camera systems, body cams, etc for emergency vehicles. He currently works for a big corporation as a field engineer manager.
He does not have a degree, but he does has certifications in this field.
He is looking to stop traveling so much or travel regionally. He currently travels accross the US and goes to a new place every week and is sick of the time zone changes.
He is having a hard time finding work that crosses over with his skills in the police, fire upfitting solutions, and tech and to keep relatively the same pay. He makes about $100k now but all the jobs in Ohio are like $50k for what he would do in a local shop. He started out in a shop when he was young and then branched to a big corporation to make more.
I am not sure what other companies could use his skills with no degree and keep relatively the same pay level. He can take a pay cut but not half his salary. Any ideas?