Community College counselor sexually harassed by student
Hi all. Not sure if this is the best place for this but I’m in need of guidance and wanted to see if anyone else has been in a similar situation. Apologies in advance for rambling
I am a community college counselor in CA .I specifically work with formerly incarcerated/justice impacted students. Sometimes my students are coming straight from being incarcerated to school. They are dealing with a myriad of issues including addiction, recidivism, homelessness,trouble finding employment ,mental health issues.. the list goes on.
As a young female counselor, I have from time have my students make flirty comments or ask for my number or social media. I find these instances fairly easy to shut down by saying that I am not allowed to share my private contact info with students or any kind of social media. I make sure to emphasize that it would be inappropriate. I had one incident in November that escalated somewhat but nothing compared to what happened a few weeks ago.
I had an appointment with a young man, about 20- this was my first time meeting with him. His energy seemed slightly off( I assumed he may have been high) but I proceeded with the appt. The first red flag was the he pulled up a chair to sit right next to me. My desk is pushed up against the wall and there are chairs to my left side and one behind me. I have a double monitor set up- Usually students sit to my left , and I turn the one monitor towards them so I can show them relevant info/work on their ed plan. That day my second monitor wasn’t displaying so I thought maybe that’s why the student got so close. Throughout the appt he was very fidgety and kept brushing up against my leg and turning my office chair( the spiny kind) towards him. The movement was just slight enough that I stupidly gave him the benefit of the doubt. I also felt “frozen” in the momen. Anyway we wrap up the appt and I ask him if he had any questions or if there was anything else I could help him with. In that moment, he grabs my face with both hands and kisses me. I immediately tell him to get the fuck out of my office and run over to my supervisor.
That day I filed a report with the campus title IX office. Just this week I got a letter of how things will proceed: interview me,him witnesses, a hearing and then a resolution n.
If you’ve made it this far I guess I’m hoping to receive any type of advice from professors, counselors, advisors, administrators etc who have been sexually harassed by students . What did you do? If you also went through title ix, what was the outcome. Did you press charges through the police??
Thanks in advance for any advice. Maybe I’m being dramatic but this has been tough for many reasons

My name is Rory Fars, and my little sister, Lily Fars, is the last family I had left.
A heavy sense of dread settled over me like a suffocating blanket as I sat in the worn leather seat of Lily's old jeep. The car, a relic of our happier days, seemed to groan under our shared sorrow. Beside me, Lily, my best friend, and confidante, absentmindedly twirled a strand of her long, dark hair, which swayed gently in rhythm with the haunting melodies from the oldies station on the radio. This car had seen us through countless joyful journeys when our family was whole. Almost three years had passed since that fateful Christmas trip in Texas when our parents were tragically killed in a horrific multi-car pileup. The memory of their loss was a constant ache, a wound that never fully healed.
My dad was from Amarillo, Texas, so my parents often took trips down there, visiting the places that held so many memories for him. During one of these trips, just before Christmas, a sudden blizzard struck while they were on the freeway. The snow fell in blinding sheets, making the world outside a disorienting white blur. As they tried to slowly pull to the side, their vision obscured by the relentless storm, they never saw the car barreling toward them at least forty miles an hour. The impact was devastating, an abrupt and brutal end to their journey and, in many ways, to our lives as we had known them.
My parents were always sticklers for safety, insisting on seatbelts every time we got in the car. So, of course, they had theirs on during that fateful trip. The initial impact wasn't what killed them, the coroner explained to me. Not even the first hit from behind, which was going at least fifty miles an hour, was fatal. I had to practically shake the information out of him—they were so resistant to tell me anything at first. By the time the third car hit, with an unknown speed, their survival was already in jeopardy. The coroner said that by the fifth car, they were likely dead. But it didn't end there. Another twenty-three vehicles slammed into the back of the pile, each collision further crushing their bodies, reducing them to a horrific, unrecognizable state. Each jarring impact pushed my parents deeper into a gruesome amalgamation of twisted metal and shattered lives.
I don't know why I felt compelled to demand those details at the time, but I deeply regret it now. I wish I had never asked. Almost every night, unless I drink myself into oblivion, I am haunted by nightmares of what they endured. I dream of driving up to save them, only to be caught in the same deadly barrage of cars, ending in a twisted metal tomb for all of us.
Lily is never in those dreams. Even in my most horrific imaginings, I can't envision her being hurt. Lily is my little sister, younger by eight years and three months. Whenever I mention our age difference, I see the judgment in people's eyes, but what can I say? Our parents never stopped loving each other. They had Lily late in life; she became our shared joy, our living reminder of the love that had bound our family together.
Lily wasn't my twin in the literal sense, but ever since she was born, it felt like we shared the inexplicable connection that twins often describe. As she grew up, our bond only deepened—we acted, sounded, and even looked remarkably alike. She became my rock, especially after our parents' tragic deaths. We leaned on each other, cried into each other's shoulders, and somehow found the strength to move forward. We eventually moved in together, finding solace in a two-bedroom apartment that became our sanctuary.
Lily seemed to handle our parents' deaths better than I did, or maybe she was just better at distracting herself with technology. Even before their passing, Lily was addicted to any kind of digital screen she could manipulate. Her ability to navigate the digital world was unmatched; she was the most intelligent person I had ever met. Her intelligence was a beacon of light in the darkness that had enveloped us, a testament to her resilience and brilliance.
After my parents' death, I embarked on a quest to find my spirituality by delving into paranormal investigations. I hoped these pursuits would bring me closer to my parents in the afterlife, spiritual realm, or whatever you want to call it. Instead, it created a chasm between me and any sense of spiritual existence. Each investigation seemed to push me further from the answers I sought, leaving me feeling more isolated and disconnected than ever.
I had hoped that by exploring these paranormal claims, I would discover a way to reach out to my parents and feel their presence again. Yet, as the years have passed, this endeavor has only deepened my loneliness and sense of loss. Despite knowing how detrimental it is to my mental health, I can't bring myself to stop. The hope that the subsequent investigation will be the one that proves the existence of an afterlife and that I'll find a way to contact my parents keeps me going. It's a desperate, unrelenting pursuit for a connection that remains heartbreakingly out of reach.
I should have accepted their death and moved on like any sane person would. Instead, I let my grief fester and dragged my sister and a stranger, Mark, through my obsessive quest for answers. My relentless pursuit of the paranormal didn't just alienate me; it consumed us all, leading to their untimely deaths. My name is Rory Fars, and I am here to confess my side of the story about the missing case of Lily Fars and Mark Lawrence.
This is the truth about how my desperate search for a connection with the afterlife led to a nightmare from which none of us could escape.
To start off, no, Lily was not a student of Mark's who fell in love with him and then got jealous of me hitting on him, leading her to kill him and herself. I know that sounds ridiculous, but given some wild theories circulating online, I need to address this one specifically since it seems to be the most popular.
First and foremost, Mark Lawrence was not, nor has he ever been, a professor at a university. Lily and I met Mark at the Local Museum in Redlin, a town nestled deep in the Appalachian Mountains. He was the curator of an exhibit showcasing the history of Raven's Nest, a forgotten mining town that neither Lily nor I had ever heard of. This is where our story begins, in a place steeped in history and mystery, far removed from the convoluted theories that now cloud the truth.
We were constantly searching for new ideas for our podcast about paranormal claims. Each of our twenty-five episodes so far had concluded with a rational explanation, so when Mark told us about the curse of Harper, I was immediately intrigued.
Mark was an older man, likely in his mid-sixties, with a full head of silver hair and a beard that stubbornly clung to its youthful color, only lightly dusted with grey. He had a presence that commanded attention, and his stories about the curse were delivered with an intensity that drew me in.
On the other hand, Lily was always more interested in the technical aspects of the paranormal. She had her own theories and was determined to debunk every claim we investigated. She wasn't easily swayed by Mark's tales about the curse of Harper, but she was willing to listen and give him a chance to prove himself. Her skeptical mind constantly checked my enthusiasm, and together, we hoped to uncover the truth behind yet another paranormal mystery.
"Hello ladies, care to hear about the mysterious town of Raven's Nest?" Mark asked with theatrical enthusiasm.
Lily and I exchanged a knowing glance, trying to stifle our amusement. Despite our attempts to remain composed, a smirk played at the corners of our lips.
"We're all ears," I replied, my tone laced with a hint of sarcasm.
He sighed, almost as if he was disappointed that we said yes. Taking a deep breath, he seemed to steel himself for the task ahead. "Well, you see," he began, his voice tinged with uncertainty, "in the early twentieth century, a man named Harper Franstein exploited many men and children in the coal mines. By the mid-1920s, he had established his own settlement in a secluded valley, which he dubbed 'The Raven's Nest.' It was never officially recognized as a town, but that's the only name we have to go off of."
I could see the beads of sweat forming on Mark's brow as he struggled to recall every detail. Despite his initial enthusiasm, he now appeared flustered, his confidence waning. Eventually, he resorted to consulting his damp and crumpled notes, a sign of his growing unease.
"Um, anyway, yeah, um," he stuttered, audibly gulping as his nerves got the better of him. Lily couldn't contain her laughter, emitting a snicker that earned us a glare from Mark.
"Hey, just relax," I interjected, trying to diffuse the tension. "We're not here to judge or intimidate you." With a gentle touch on his forearm and a chuckle, I attempted to reassure him, hoping to ease his obvious discomfort.
He paused, sharing a chuckle with me, while Lily struggled to suppress her laughter and eventually excused herself, leaving just Mark and me. Evidently, he felt more at ease with fewer listeners, so he pressed on with his narrative.
"Anyway," he resumed, "Harper held complete control over the town and the mine, and he made sure everyone was acutely aware of that fact. When the disappearances began, he tried to sweep them under the rug, attributing them to anything but his own negligence in mining practices."
"What do you mean by 'negligence in mining practices'?" I interjected, eager to delve deeper into his intriguing tale.
He looked up, clearly pleased by my question. "Yes, exactly," he affirmed. "Harper adhered to a mining technique outlined by Dwight Brunst in the mid to late nineteenth century. This method mandated only one entry and exit point into the mine."
"Wait, so they were forbidden from creating additional exits?" I pressed for clarification.
"Not explicitly," he explained. "The practice advocated for just one entry and exit as it was believed to minimize the risk of cave-ins, at least in theory. However, there were instances where miners, feeling uneasy about this restriction, took matters into their own hands and carved out what they called 'Emergency Exits' for themselves. After about half of the town started going missing, Harper couldn't take criticism about how he responded, but most people say he was losing money quickly and didn't want to live in a world where he was poor. He walked into the mine, never to be seen again, much like the cave's past victims. Visitors report seeing and hearing Harper, trying to get them to leave."
As I stood there, listening to Mark's enthralling narrative, I found myself captivated by the mysterious allure of Raven's Nest. Unable to contain my curiosity, I decided to pose a question.
"So, what does the town look like now?" I inquired, eager to learn more about the present state of this enigmatic place.
Mark's demeanor shifted slightly as he rifled through his notes, a subtle indication that he didn't have a straightforward answer to my query.
"You've never been there?" I asked, my tone softening with genuine curiosity.
He flinched as though my question had struck a nerve. "Shhhhhh... shut up," he demanded, his voice tinged with unease.
Suppressing a chuckle, I leaned in closer and whispered, "Okay, hear me out. My sister Lily and I are investigating paranormal phenomena. Your story about Raven's Nest sounds like the perfect addition to our podcast. What do you say we compensate you for your guidance? Let's say, three hundred bucks?"
He straightened up, contemplating my proposition for a few moments. Without uttering a word, he extended his hand, and I met it halfway with my own, sealing our agreement with a firm handshake.
Our journey to Raven's Nest was no easy feat. Situated a good twenty miles from town and nestled deep within a dense valley. After all of the tight turns, narrow dirt roads, and steep inclines, it took us a grueling two and a half hours to go twenty-something miles, but we finally reached the outskirts of the infamous settlement. As we stood at the edge of the "Nest," anticipation mingled with trepidation, setting the stage for the eerie exploration that lay ahead.
I glanced at my phone; the time read 11:56 pm, signaling the late hour. Sensing the exhaustion weighing heavily, I suggested we catch a few hours of rest in Lily's jeep. Mark, though visibly unsettled, remained silent from the back seat, his arms folded tightly across his chest as he slumped against the window like a sulking child.
Drifting asleep in the passenger seat, I soon found myself ensnared in a nightmare. In my dream, Mark was being dragged away into the darkness, his desperate attempts to claw his way back to safety only resulting in broken fingertips. Despite his struggles, he was powerless against the unseen force pulling him inexorably into the abyss. Suddenly, I was alone, engulfed in utter darkness, my heart pounding with fear as I ran blindly from an unseen terror that seemed to pursue me relentlessly, its malevolent presence palpable but unseen.
I jolted awake, gasping for breath, my heart racing as the remnants of dread lingered in the pit of my stomach. It was morning, and I was struggling to adjust my vision. Lily's frantic but comforting voice broke through the haze of my terror, grounding me in reality. With her comforting embrace, I gradually calmed my racing thoughts, drawing deep, steadying breaths.
As we sat there, enveloped in each other's embrace, Mark approached the driver's side window with an unexpected question, "Alright, what's for breakfast?" His nonchalant tone and casual demeanor were a stark contrast to the harrowing nightmare that had just consumed my thoughts, momentarily dispelling the lingering specter of fear that had haunted my dreams.
Lily and I both look up at him and back at each other as we burst out into laughter.
Amidst our shared laughter, Lily and I exchanged amused glances before turning our attention back to Mark.
"Ha...ha, yeah. No, but seriously, what's for breakfast? Eggs, bacon, toast, at least?" Mark pressed, hoping for a more substantial response.
His earnest inquiry fueled our laughter further, our giggles echoing through the quiet night air. Eventually, we regained our composure and stepped out of the jeep, stretching our limbs after the cramped confines of the vehicle.
Mark awkwardly moves to the side, still waiting for an honest answer. Lily tossed him a granola bar, eliciting a bemused chuckle from him. With a shared understanding, we set off on foot, embarking on the hike into the town.
The path ahead was clear: a single dirt road that wound its way from the abandoned coal mine into the heart of the small settlement. The road, now overgrown and muddy from years of disuse, bore the marks of neglect and isolation. Wary of the treacherous conditions, Lily opted to forgo the risk of getting stuck, steering clear of the decrepit road that likely hadn't seen a traveler in at least half a century.
We parked Lily's jeep at the entrance to both the mine and the town of Raven's Nest, opting to proceed on foot from there. Standing at the mountain's peak, gazing down at the desolate town below, I couldn't help but ponder the history beneath the dilapidated structures. I imagined how this valley must have once been a pristine landscape cherished by the indigenous people who roamed its lush terrain.
"Jesus, this place is more like a shit nest," Mark muttered in disgust, his disdain evident in his tone.
Lily shot me a knowing glance, silently communicating her skepticism toward Mark's assessment of the town.
Deciding to put Mark's knowledge to the test, I casually inquired, "So, what year was this area founded?"
Mark's reaction was almost defensive as if my question had caught him off guard. He hesitated momentarily before fumbling for his note cards in his pocket, a telltale sign that he wasn't as knowledgeable as he let on.
Before he could respond, I interjected with another question, "Mark, how long have you worked at the museum?"
As Mark froze, his gaze locking onto mine like a deer caught in headlights, I watched him closely, waiting for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. My narrowed eyes bore into his, silently urging him to be honest.
Finally, breaking the tense silence, Mark confessed, "Look, this is only my first week. I... I haven't had the greatest time lately, and I really need the extra money. I'm sorry I lied, but I'll help however I can."
I met his gaze unwaveringly, sensing the sincerity in his words. Clearly, he was a man in need of redemption, grappling with his own personal struggles.
"Alright, alright, don't cry too much," I teased lightly, trying to ease the tension. Gesturing towards Lily, who was busy preparing her wireless motion cameras in her backpack, I continued, "Lily and I already figured that was the case. Honestly, we're surprised you agreed to come along."
Mark remained frozen, but the tension seemed to melt away from his expression, replaced by a tentative smile. It was a moment of shared understanding, a silent acknowledgment that he was still welcomed into our expedition despite his initial deception.
"Alright, I have the cams and portable batteries to make sure the cameras and anything we have with power can last," Lily said, her voice brimming with determination.
We began our descent into the town, our hiking boots struggling against the thick, clinging mud produced by the constant light rain and years of disuse. Each step was a battle, the mud threatening to swallow our boots with every move.
After an eternity of trudging through the muck, we finally reached the town's only paved road—the main road. It had taken us only about fifteen minutes to hike down, but navigating the muddy slope had sapped our energy. We paused for a break, taking a few minutes to clean off our boots and catch our breath.
As we rested, I noticed Lily rummaging through her bag with a focused intensity. Curious, I asked, "What are you looking for?"
"I brought five motion-detecting cameras that I want to set up strategically throughout the town," she replied, pulling out one of the cameras. She walked over to the nearest building, a structure that served as a post office, police station, and fire station. She positioned the camera outside the building so it was pointed at the only road leading in and out of the town.
"We need to cover all potential points of interest," she explained, securing the camera in place. "This one will monitor any activity on the main road. We should place the other cameras around key locations like the mine entrance, the town square, and some more intact buildings."
I nodded, appreciating her thoroughness. "Good idea. We need to make sure we capture anything unusual."
Mark, having finally caught his breath, joined us. "Alright, let's get these cameras set up and see what we can find," he said, a hint of excitement in his voice.
"Look," Lily said, turning her tablet screen toward us. She waved her hand in front of the camera she had just placed. The tablet displayed five squares on the interface, each meant to show a feed from one of the cameras. Since Lily had only set up one camera so far, only the bottom right square showed any footage pointed at the road leading out of town. She stopped waving her hand, and the feed went to a blue screen.
"What happened? Did we lose connection?" Mark asked frantically, his eyes wide with concern.
Lily cackled, struggling to contain her amusement. Composing herself, she waved her hand in front of the camera again, and the bottom right square showed her hand waving once more. "It's motion-activated. It's the best way to save on battery life," she explained.
Mark seemed to relax, though he was still catching his breath after the brief panic.
I glanced at my watch, noting the time. "It's 8:30. We're behind schedule. If you want to place the rest of your cameras, we better move now," I said, walking down the street.
Lily immediately got up and followed me, with Mark struggling to keep pace behind us. We reached the market building, and Lily positioned her second camera on the side of the road, pointing up at the market.
It's not much longer before we make it to the Town Hall. I suggest Lily place a camera nearby. She nods and heads into a building across from the Town Hall labeled, "Slaughterhouse: LOCAL ANIMALS ONLY."
As Lily explores the building to find an adequate spot for the camera, I wait for Mark to catch up. While I wait, I can't help but imagine this town in its prime, picturing the streets filled with families who loved each other.
My thoughts are abruptly cut off by a sound echoing in the distance—a roar unlike any I've ever heard. It was a mix of a human screaming in pain, the roar of a lion, and, near the end, the howl of a wolf. The chilling sound sent shivers down my spine.
I jump to my feet and immediately call out, "Lily, you okay?"
There's no response from Lily, but I'm interrupted by Mark finally catching up, panting heavily.
"Holy... shit... did you... hear that?" Mark said frantically between breaths.
"Yeah, we have to find Lily," I say, bolting into the slaughterhouse. I glance back to see Mark bracing himself on the steps of the Town Hall, struggling to keep up.
As I enter the building, the stench of rotting flesh hits me like a wave, causing me to gag. The smell is too fresh to be decades old.
"Lily? Lily, where are you?" I yell, using my shirt to shield my nose from the overwhelming odor.
"Rory, I'm in here!" I hear Lily yell from a room two doors down. I pass the first door, peeking in to ensure I hadn't misheard, but I wish I hadn't looked.
Inside the first room, I catch a glimpse of what appears to be a pile of animal carcasses, their decayed bodies arranged in a grotesque display. The sight is horrifying, the flesh still disturbingly fresh. The bile rises in my throat, but I force myself to focus on finding Lily.
I rush to the room where her voice came from, pushing the door open. Lily is there, setting up the camera, seemingly oblivious to the horror in the adjacent room. Relief floods through me as I see she's safe.
"Lily, did you hear that roar?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Yeah, I heard it," she replies, her eyes wide with concern. "I was just finishing up here. Let's get back to Mark and figure out what that was." She had placed the camera in a window, pointing directly at the Town Hall.
We hurry back outside, where Mark still catches his breath as we meet between the buildings. "We need to stay together from now on," I say firmly, looking at both of them. "Whatever that noise was, it's not something we want to face alone."
"Let's check out the Town Hall!" Mark says excitedly as he slowly clambers through a broken window.
"Did he not just hear what I said?" I mutter under my breath, shaking my head in disbelief.
Lily gives me a shrug, her eyes reflecting a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Guess we're heading into the Town Hall then," she says, adjusting her backpack and walking towards the broken window.
I sigh and follow suit, hoisting myself up and carefully maneuvering through the jagged glass. Inside, the air is musty, filled with the scent of old paper and decaying wood. Dust motes float lazily in the beams of sunlight streaming through the cracked windows.
The main hall is vast and eerily silent, with rows of empty chairs facing a stage draped in tattered curtains. The walls are lined with faded portraits and yellowed maps of the town, remnants of a time when this place was alive and bustling.
Mark is already at the front, examining a large, decrepit desk. "Look at this," he says, his voice echoing in the empty space. "It's like stepping back in time."
I walk over, glancing at the old papers scattered across the desk. Most are mundane—meeting minutes, maintenance logs—but one catches my eye. It's a letter dated June 1925, addressed to Harper Franstein.
"Harper, the disappearances are becoming more frequent. The townsfolk are getting restless, and I fear they may take matters into their own hands if we don't act soon. We need to find out what's causing this before it's too late."
I read the letter aloud, and the room fell silent. "Sounds like things were getting pretty tense," Lily remarks, her voice subdued.
As I'm distracted by the time capsule in front of us, Mark sneaks off.
I'm not sure how long it was before she noticed, but I saw Lily looking around before saying, "Where the hell did Mark go?" breaking me out of my trance.
I look around, turning my head in all directions, and shrug at Lily. I hear shuffling in the second room down the hall, so I slowly walk toward it.
"Mark?" I call out.
Just then, a loud crash reverberates through the building, making it sound like the whole place was about to come down.
We run in and see Mark struggling to keep himself from falling into a giant hole that must've broken under his weight. Trying not to laugh, I glance at Lily. We help him up as he dramatically falls onto his back, wheezing as he catches his breath.
Lily and I can't contain our laughter anymore as we bust out laughing hard. Startled by our sudden outburst, Mark jumps in fear. He looks around, confused for a few seconds, before realizing that we are laughing at him.
"Jesus, thanks, I guess," he says, clearly thankful but annoyed by our reaction.
After we contained ourselves, we headed back outside, exiting through the window Mark entered through. He struggles to climb out, but after Lily gives him a hand, he is safely out of the Town Hall.
"Alright, Ror, where should we put the next camera?" Lily asks me.
I stop to think momentarily, trying to picture the town's layout. "I think the only place left is the neighborhood," I respond confidently. I always talk like that with Lily. Over the years, I've realized she is the only person I can have that much confidence around. With anyone else, I'm worried about saying something stupid or wrong or how they'll view me, but with my sister, everything is easy.
As I look at the replica map of the town in its heyday from the museum, I determine that the neighborhood is to the East. "Okay, looks like we head East past the Library. Let's go." I say, walking away.
It only takes about eight minutes to get to the long strip of road that housed the town's workers. According to the map, there were fifteen houses along this strip of road.
The houses stand eerily silent, their wooden frames weathered and decayed by time. We walk down the road, our footsteps crunching on the gravel and echoing in the stillness. The air feels heavier here like the past is watching us, waiting to reveal its secrets.
"Let's put the last cameras on that house at the end of the road," I suggest, pointing to a house that looks slightly less dilapidated than the others, "another one at the last house on the other side, and the last we can save for a spot you choose."
Lily nods and heads toward the first house, pulling another camera from her backpack. She sets it up on the porch, positioning it to capture the entire street, and does the same in the opposite house. As I stand with Mark breathing hard, still unable to catch his breath since we first got here, I can't shake the feeling that we're being watched. I glance around nervously but see nothing out of the ordinary.
"All set," Lily says, breaking my reverie, "Still no ideas for the last cam?" Lily asks me.
"Like I said, wherever you think it would be best. I feel like we have enough good spots and angles, so go wild with that one," I told her.
She smirked and kept walking next to me. Mark was still struggling behind, but after the town hall mishap, he was trying his best to keep up. I looked at my watch, and it read '12:30 pm'.
"Holy shit, it's already 12:30," I said in amazement, but no one else seemed fazed. It felt like we'd only been here thirty minutes, not almost four hours.
We walked back down the street. Lily and I had been discussing on the walk that she should put the last camera at the town's only stoplight in front of the Library.
As we made our way to it, I could have sworn I was seeing something moving fast past my vision in the corner of my eye. Every time I turned to look, it was gone. I chalked it up to being my imagination until Lily and Mark both experienced the same thing.
"What the fuck was that?" Mark asked as he ducked, bracing for something terrible to happen. Lily and I looked back at him and then at each other as we shrugged. It was after that that I started seeing things, too.
I confided in Lily about the unsettling visions and sounds, and she admitted she had experienced the same phenomena but had kept quiet, fearing Mark would dismiss her as paranoid.
"Well, it's probably just a cat or something," I said, attempting to downplay the situation, but neither seemed convinced.
We continued our trek, and I noticed that the more we walked, the more frequently I caught fleeting glimpses of movement in my peripheral vision. It was beginning to grate on my nerves.
Finally, we reached the light in front of the Library. As Lily mounted the camera, I felt a sense of satisfaction. We were making good progress, and it seemed like a suitable moment to start exploring the town more freely. We decided to split up and cover different sections of the town.
"Wait, we have to go alone? Why can't we stay together like you said?" Mark asked frantically, but Lily and I ignored him as we headed in separate directions. He continued to protest, but we paid him no mind. Eventually, I was either far enough away to not hear him anymore, or he had given up. Either way, I was happy to enjoy the eerie silence of the town.
As I wandered, the stillness of Raven's Nest enveloped me. With its decrepit buildings and overgrown streets, the town exuded an unsettling charm. It was as if I had stepped into a forgotten world, a place frozen in time with secrets waiting to be unearthed. The ambiance reminded me of an amusement park's haunted town section—artificially eerie yet irresistibly intriguing. Despite the creepiness, the mysterious vibe of the town kept me engaged and eager to explore its hidden corners.
I glanced at my watch again, only to find the time glaring back at me: 3:19 pm. It couldn't be right. There was no way it had been that long since I last checked. Panic seized me, and I called out for Lily, my voice tinged with urgency. She appeared beside me in a matter of minutes, her expression mirroring my concern.
"What's up, Ror? You okay?" she asked, her voice laced with worry.
"How long would you say it's been since you put the last camera down?" I inquired, my heart pounding in my chest.
Lily's brow furrowed as she struggled to come up with an answer. "Uh, I don't know, thirty minutes?" she hazarded a guess.
I held up my watch, displaying the time: 3:20 pm. Lily fell silent, her eyes widening in disbelief. She was never great with time, but missing almost three hours of our memory was unprecedented.
"There's no way. Your watch must be—" Lily began, her voice trailing off as she checked her own watch, only to freeze in shock when she found it displayed the same time as mine.
"Lil, something is going on," I stated, my voice tight and apprehensive. I glanced up at the sky, my stomach churning as I noticed the clouds darkening and rolling in from all sides of the valley.
The sky closed rapidly, ominous clouds obscuring the sun as thunder rumbled ominously against the mountains.
"Mark? Mark, where are—" I began to call out, but before I could finish, Mark emerged from behind a wall, appearing as if he'd been too frightened to venture far on his own.
"We have to get inside!" Mark exclaimed urgently, his voice tinged with fear.

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

Basics

• Feel free to leave a comment here, DM me on reddit or add me to talk on Steam, but a comment in this thread is still needed for a trade!
  
• I am open to any kind of offer, just make a reasonable one
  
• I take any Game/DLC I don’t have already (STEAM ONLY) You can compare here or here
  
• Also taking any Steam Items (Cards, CS2, TF2, etc.) & PayPal offers
  
• Trading my whole Steam Inventory, 15.000+ items if there is something you are interested in
  
• I will go first on keys that are already revealed to ensure the key is still working for you, all other keys are unrevealed & safe keys.
  

Important Links

• My Steam Wishlist ~ 300+ Games Wishlisted
  
• My Steam Games ~ 3000+ Owned Games
  
• My IGSRep Page ~ 60+ Trades Made
  
• My SGS Flair~ 60+ Trades Made
  
• My GameTradeRep ~ 20+ Trades Made
  

Humble Bundle Gifts
Steam

• 198X (Unused HG)
• 911 Operator
• Action Henk
• Anomaly Defenders
• Arizona Sunshine VR
• Armello
• Battletech – Shadow Hawk Pack (maybe used)
• Beholder
• Between the Stars
• BioShock™ Remastered (RL in some countries)
• Blaston
• Book of Demons
• Borderlands 2: GOTY
• Breathedge
• Broken Age
• Calico
• Crusader Kings II (RL in some Countries)
• Crusader Kings II The Old Gods DLC
• Deep Dungeons of Doom
• Draw Slasher
• Dungeon Rushers
• Elex II
• Embr
• Endless Space® - Collection
• From Space
• Full Throttle Remastered
• Galactic Civilizations Ultimate Edition
• GameGuru
• Going Under
• Golden Light
• Grime
• Guns of Icarus Alliance Collector's Edition
• Guts and Glory
• Hack 'n' Slash
• HackyZack
• HIVESWAP: Act 1
• How to Survive 1 (Unused HG)
• Hyperdrive Massacre
• I'm not a Monster
• Kerbal Space Program
• Killing Floor Incursion
• Kingdom Classic
• Kingdom Two Crowns
• Lust from Beyond - M Edition
• Monaco
• No Time to Explain Remastered
• Orbital Racer
• Orwell: Ignorance is Strength
• Pathfinder: Kingmaker - Enhanced Plus Edition
• PAYDAY 2
• Pesterquest
• PGA Tour 2K21
• Pixplode
• Popup Dungeon
• Quake II
• Regular Human Basketball
• Resident Evil Revelations 2 - Episode 1: Penal Colony (RL in some countries)
• Rym 9000
• SIMULACRA
• Sonic Adventure 2
• Sonic Adventure 2: Battle
• Soulblight
• Space Crew: Legendary Edition
• Space Pilgrim Episode 1: Alpha Centauri
• Stick Fight
• Stories Untold
• Stride
• Stronghold Crusader 2:
• Stygian: Reign of the Old Ones
• Styx: Master of Shadows
• Superliminal
• System Shock 2
• System Shock Enhanced Edition
• Talisman: Digital Edition
• The Amazing American Circus
• The Inner World
• The Walking Dead
• The Walking Dead: Michonne - A Telltale Miniseries
• The Walking Dead: Saints & Sinners
• The Witness
• Ticket to Ride
• Tooth and Tail
• Tower 57
• Tropico 4
• Victoria 3
• Warhammer: End Times – Vermintide
• WARSAW
• We Were Here Together
• West of Dead
• Westerado: Double Barreled
• Worms Rumble
• WWE 2K Battlegrounds
• X-Morph: Defense Complete Pack (Unused HG)
• Zero Caliber VR
• Zombie Driver HD *Prodeus

GOG

• Liberated
• Wanderlust: Travel Stories
• Disjunction

Origin

• Command & Conquer Remastered Collection
• Dead Space
• Mirror's Edge
• Populous

Rockstar Social Club

• Max Payne 3

Other

• GameMaker Studio 2 Creator 12 Months
• Intro to Game Development with Unity
• Microsoft 365 Single 1 Year Licence Code (Eurozone)
• Musik Maker EDM Edition (Magix Key)
• Pathfinder Second Edition Core Rulebook and Starfinder Core Rulebook
• Race The Sun (Flippfly Key)
• Rooster Teeth FIRST Subscription - 1 Month Free (Rooster Teeth Key)
• Starfinder Core Rulebook and Starfinder: Junker's Delight
• Starfinder: Pact Worlds Campaign Setting (Paizo Key)

Fanatical Steam Keys

• 16bit Trader
• Alien Rampage
• A-Tech Cybernetic VR
• Castle of no Escape 2
• Daemonsgate
• DISTRAINT: Deluxe Edition
• Drill Arena
• Er-Spectro
• Eternam
• Fairy Lands: Rinka and the Fairy Gems
• Galactic Lords
• Grey Goo Definitive Edition
• Hostage: Rescue Mission
• King Arthur's Gold
• King's Table - The Legend of Ragnarok
• Marco Polo
• OutDrive
• Overcast - Walden and the Werewolf
• Particula
• Prophecy I - The Viking Child
• Red Risk
• ShipLord
• SPACECOM
• Spiritual Warfare & Wisdom Tree Collection
• Story Of the Survivor
• Timberman
• Trip to Vinelands
• Tropico 5
• TTV2
• UBERMOSH
• UBERMOSH Vol.3
• UBERMOSH Vol.5
• UBERMOSH:BLACK
• UBERMOSH:WRAITH
• W4RR-i/o-RS
• Walhall
• Warhammer: End Times - Vermintide

Retail & Revealed Keys
Battle.net

• Overwatch Digital Extras [Collectors Edition Retail Key: World of Warcraft Winston, Hearthstone Cardback, Starcraft 2 Portraits, Heroes of the Storm Tracer, Diablo 3 Mercy Wings (+ XBOX One Mercy Wings)]
• Overwatch Widowmaker Noire Skin (XBOX ONE Code)

Steam

• 12 is Better Than 6
• A grande bagunça espacial - The big space mess
• Aegis Defenders
• AI War: Fleet Command
• Anomaly Korea
• Anomaly: Warzone Earth
• Ashes of the Singularity: Escalation
• Attrition: Nuclear Domination
• Aurion: Legacy of the Kori-Odan
• BARRIER X
• Bear With Me Collectors Edition
• Bioshock 2
• Blood of the Old(OLD VERSION) + Blood of the Old - The Rise To Greatness
• Bomber Crew
• Boys Love (Locked on Steam)
• Chroma Squad
• Clickdraw Clicker
• Dark Deity
• Darkness and a Crowd
• Deadbreed
• Death Squared
• Desolate
• Drift Streets Japan
• East India Company Gold
• Endless Space Collection
• Food Hunter
• Freebie
• Galactic Civilizations II: Ultimate Edition
• Galactic Lords
• Glass Wing
• Dirt Rally
• GROOVY
• GT Legends
• Guns of Icarus Alliance
• Guns of Icarus Online
• Heaven Island - VR MMO
• Heaven Island Life
• iO
• JDM Tuner Racing
• Journey Down: Chapter Two
• Kingdom: Classic
• Krog Wars:
• LARA CROFT AND THE TEMPLE OF OSIRIS™
• Layers of Fear
• Little Nightmares
• Little Nightmares - DLC Fox Mask
• Little Racers STREET
• Lost Moon
• Lost Moon:
• Mad Games Tycoon
• Mafia III: Sign of the Times
• Magma Tsunami
• Manual Samuel
• Medieval Wars
• Megabyte Punch
• Mighty Party
• Mini Attack Submarine
• Monsti
• Multiple Key for: Brilliant Bob / Why So Evil / Why So Evil 2: Dystopia
• No Turning Back
• Nomad Survival
• One Finger Death Punch
• Paradox Wrench
• Paranormal Psychosis
• PHAT STACKS
• Q.U.B.E.
• Rapture Rejects - Humble Exclusive "Safari Outfit" DLC
• Rise of Industry
• ROGALIK
• Satellite Reign
• Serial Cleaner
• Sins of a Solar Empire Trinity Edition
• Skullgirls
• Snake Pass
• Space Beret
• Space Hulk Ascension
• Space Overlords
• Starship: Nova Strike
• State of Mind Soundtrack
• Stealth Bastard Deluxe
• Switchblade
• Tharsis
• The Deer
• The Next Door
• The Slaughtering Grounds
• The Strangers
• The Walking Dead: Season 1
• Tomb Raider: Temple of Osiris & Guardian of Light Bundle
• Turn Around
• Ultimate Zombie Defense
• Unforgiving Trials: The Darkest Crusade
• Unforgiving Trials: The Space Crusade
• Unknown Battle
• VAULT OF HONOR
• Viscera Cleanup Detail: Santa's Rampage
• Warp Rider
• Winged Knights: Penetration
• Witherung Kingdom: Arcane War
• Woodle Tree Adventure
• Yellow: The Yellow Artifact
• Zero Gear

Uplay

• Rayman® Origins
• Watch_Dogs™
• Watch_Dogs™ DEDSEC Edition Content

GoG

• Little Nightmares - DLC Tengu Mask
• Little Nightmares - DLC Fox Mask

Playstation 4

• Tekken 7 - PS4 DLC Theme"
• Project CARS 2 - Dynamic Theme PS4"
• Dark Souls III Transitory Lands PS4 Theme
• Dark Souls III The Ringed City PS4 Theme
• Sword Art Online : Hollow Realization: DLC Maid Costume (Also PS Vita)
• DRAGON BALL XENOVERSE 2 - Masters Pack
• DIGI’ADVENTURE PACK - PS4
• One Piece Burning Blood - Golden Luffy DLC (Also PS Vita)
• Tales of Zestiria - Mystische Artes und PlayStation-Designs (Also PS3)
• Little Nightmares - DLC Tengu Mask
• Little Nightmares - DLC Fox Mask

Xbox One

• DRAGON BALL XENOVERSE 2 - Masters Pack
• One Piece Burning Blood - Golden Luffy DLC
• Little Nightmares - DLC Tengu Mask
• Little Nightmares - DLC Fox Mask

Nintendo Switch

• Enclave HD

Microsoft

• XBOX Game Pass 14 Days
• XBOX Game Pass 3 Months

Coupons & Other Stuff

• 25% Off Coupon for PurePings.com Servers
• Absolute LoJack for Laptops 90 Day Trial Key Giveaway
• Astro Lords: Oort Cloud Exclusive Alienware Pack
• BigHead BASH Alien Head Key Giveaway
• Broforce 25% Steam Discount Key Giveaway
• Civilization V 50% Steam Discount Key Giveaway
• Divine Souls Closed Beta Key Giveaway
• Drunken Robot Pornography 60% Steam Discount Key Giveaway
• Dungeon Defenders Eternity Alienware Helmet Key Giveaway
• Heroes Of Newerth 200 Silver Coin Key Giveaway
• Heroes Of Newerth Account Icon Key Giveaway
• Loadout Exclusive In-Game Alienware T-Shirt Key Giveaway
• Neverwinter's Tyranny of Dragons Prize Pack Key Giveaway
• Shadow Warrior 75% Steam Discount Key Giveaway
• ShootMania Storm Exclusive Alienware Skin Giveaway
• War Inc. Arsenal Bundle Giveaway
• Warface Starter Pack Key Giveaway

Important Links
My Steam Wishlist
My Steam Games
My IGSRep Page
My SGS Flair
My GameTradeRep

Basics

• Feel free to leave a comment here, DM me on reddit or add me to talk on Steam, but a comment in this thread is still needed for a trade!
  
• I am open to any kind of offer, just make a reasonable one
  
• I take any Game/DLC I don’t have already (STEAM ONLY) You can compare here or here
  
• Also taking any Steam Items (Cards, CS2, TF2, etc.) & PayPal offers
  
• Trading my whole Steam Inventory, 15.000+ items if there is something you are interested in
  
• I will go first on keys that are already revealed to ensure the key is still working for you, all other keys are unrevealed & safe keys.
  

Important Links

• My Steam Wishlist ~ 300+ Games Wishlisted
  
• My Steam Games ~ 3000+ Owned Games
  
• My IGSRep Page ~ 60+ Trades Made
  
• My SGS Flair~ 60+ Trades Made
  
• My GameTradeRep ~ 20+ Trades Made
  

Humble Bundle Gifts
Steam

• 198X (Unused HG)
• 911 Operator
• Action Henk
• Anomaly Defenders
• Arizona Sunshine VR
• Armello
• Battletech – Shadow Hawk Pack (maybe used)
• Beholder
• Between the Stars
• BioShock™ Remastered (RL in some countries)
• Blaston
• Book of Demons
• Borderlands 2: GOTY
• Breathedge
• Broken Age
• Calico
• Crusader Kings II (RL in some Countries)
• Crusader Kings II The Old Gods DLC
• Deep Dungeons of Doom
• Draw Slasher
• Dungeon Rushers
• Elex II
• Embr
• Endless Space® - Collection
• From Space
• Full Throttle Remastered
• Galactic Civilizations Ultimate Edition
• GameGuru
• Going Under
• Golden Light
• Grime
• Guns of Icarus Alliance Collector's Edition
• Guts and Glory
• Hack 'n' Slash
• HackyZack
• HIVESWAP: Act 1
• How to Survive 1 (Unused HG)
• Hyperdrive Massacre
• I'm not a Monster
• Kerbal Space Program
• Killing Floor Incursion
• Kingdom Classic
• Kingdom Two Crowns
• Lust from Beyond - M Edition
• Monaco
• No Time to Explain Remastered
• Orbital Racer
• Orwell: Ignorance is Strength
• Pathfinder: Kingmaker - Enhanced Plus Edition
• PAYDAY 2
• Pesterquest
• PGA Tour 2K21
• Pixplode
• Popup Dungeon
• Quake II
• Regular Human Basketball
• Resident Evil Revelations 2 - Episode 1: Penal Colony (RL in some countries)
• Rym 9000
• SIMULACRA
• Sonic Adventure 2
• Sonic Adventure 2: Battle
• Soulblight
• Space Crew: Legendary Edition
• Space Pilgrim Episode 1: Alpha Centauri
• Stick Fight
• Stories Untold
• Stride
• Stronghold Crusader 2:
• Stygian: Reign of the Old Ones
• Styx: Master of Shadows
• Superliminal
• System Shock 2
• System Shock Enhanced Edition
• Talisman: Digital Edition
• The Amazing American Circus
• The Inner World
• The Walking Dead
• The Walking Dead: Michonne - A Telltale Miniseries
• The Walking Dead: Saints & Sinners
• The Witness
• Ticket to Ride
• Tooth and Tail
• Tower 57
• Tropico 4
• Victoria 3
• Warhammer: End Times – Vermintide
• WARSAW
• We Were Here Together
• West of Dead
• Westerado: Double Barreled
• Worms Rumble
• WWE 2K Battlegrounds
• X-Morph: Defense Complete Pack (Unused HG)
• Zero Caliber VR
• Zombie Driver HD *Prodeus

GOG

• Liberated
• Wanderlust: Travel Stories
• Disjunction

Origin

• Command & Conquer Remastered Collection
• Dead Space
• Mirror's Edge
• Populous

Rockstar Social Club

• Max Payne 3

Other

• GameMaker Studio 2 Creator 12 Months
• Intro to Game Development with Unity
• Microsoft 365 Single 1 Year Licence Code (Eurozone)
• Musik Maker EDM Edition (Magix Key)
• Pathfinder Second Edition Core Rulebook and Starfinder Core Rulebook
• Race The Sun (Flippfly Key)
• Rooster Teeth FIRST Subscription - 1 Month Free (Rooster Teeth Key)
• Starfinder Core Rulebook and Starfinder: Junker's Delight
• Starfinder: Pact Worlds Campaign Setting (Paizo Key)

Fanatical Steam Keys

• 16bit Trader
• Alien Rampage
• A-Tech Cybernetic VR
• Castle of no Escape 2
• Daemonsgate
• DISTRAINT: Deluxe Edition
• Drill Arena
• Er-Spectro
• Eternam
• Fairy Lands: Rinka and the Fairy Gems
• Galactic Lords
• Grey Goo Definitive Edition
• Hostage: Rescue Mission
• King Arthur's Gold
• King's Table - The Legend of Ragnarok
• Marco Polo
• OutDrive
• Overcast - Walden and the Werewolf
• Particula
• Prophecy I - The Viking Child
• Red Risk
• ShipLord
• SPACECOM
• Spiritual Warfare & Wisdom Tree Collection
• Story Of the Survivor
• Timberman
• Trip to Vinelands
• Tropico 5
• TTV2
• UBERMOSH
• UBERMOSH Vol.3
• UBERMOSH Vol.5
• UBERMOSH:BLACK
• UBERMOSH:WRAITH
• W4RR-i/o-RS
• Walhall
• Warhammer: End Times - Vermintide

Retail & Revealed Keys
Battle.net

• Overwatch Digital Extras [Collectors Edition Retail Key: World of Warcraft Winston, Hearthstone Cardback, Starcraft 2 Portraits, Heroes of the Storm Tracer, Diablo 3 Mercy Wings (+ XBOX One Mercy Wings)]
• Overwatch Widowmaker Noire Skin (XBOX ONE Code)

Steam

• 12 is Better Than 6
• A grande bagunça espacial - The big space mess
• Aegis Defenders
• AI War: Fleet Command
• Anomaly Korea
• Anomaly: Warzone Earth
• Ashes of the Singularity: Escalation
• Attrition: Nuclear Domination
• Aurion: Legacy of the Kori-Odan
• BARRIER X
• Bear With Me Collectors Edition
• Bioshock 2
• Blood of the Old(OLD VERSION) + Blood of the Old - The Rise To Greatness
• Bomber Crew
• Boys Love (Locked on Steam)
• Chroma Squad
• Clickdraw Clicker
• Dark Deity
• Darkness and a Crowd
• Deadbreed
• Death Squared
• Desolate
• Drift Streets Japan
• East India Company Gold
• Endless Space Collection
• Food Hunter
• Freebie
• Galactic Civilizations II: Ultimate Edition
• Galactic Lords
• Glass Wing
• Dirt Rally
• GROOVY
• GT Legends
• Guns of Icarus Alliance
• Guns of Icarus Online
• Heaven Island - VR MMO
• Heaven Island Life
• iO
• JDM Tuner Racing
• Journey Down: Chapter Two
• Kingdom: Classic
• Krog Wars:
• LARA CROFT AND THE TEMPLE OF OSIRIS™
• Layers of Fear
• Little Nightmares
• Little Nightmares - DLC Fox Mask
• Little Racers STREET
• Lost Moon
• Lost Moon:
• Mad Games Tycoon
• Mafia III: Sign of the Times
• Magma Tsunami
• Manual Samuel
• Medieval Wars
• Megabyte Punch
• Mighty Party
• Mini Attack Submarine
• Monsti
• Multiple Key for: Brilliant Bob / Why So Evil / Why So Evil 2: Dystopia
• No Turning Back
• Nomad Survival
• One Finger Death Punch
• Paradox Wrench
• Paranormal Psychosis
• PHAT STACKS
• Q.U.B.E.
• Rapture Rejects - Humble Exclusive "Safari Outfit" DLC
• Rise of Industry
• ROGALIK
• Satellite Reign
• Serial Cleaner
• Sins of a Solar Empire Trinity Edition
• Skullgirls
• Snake Pass
• Space Beret
• Space Hulk Ascension
• Space Overlords
• Starship: Nova Strike
• State of Mind Soundtrack
• Stealth Bastard Deluxe
• Switchblade
• Tharsis
• The Deer
• The Next Door
• The Slaughtering Grounds
• The Strangers
• The Walking Dead: Season 1
• Tomb Raider: Temple of Osiris & Guardian of Light Bundle
• Turn Around
• Ultimate Zombie Defense
• Unforgiving Trials: The Darkest Crusade
• Unforgiving Trials: The Space Crusade
• Unknown Battle
• VAULT OF HONOR
• Viscera Cleanup Detail: Santa's Rampage
• Warp Rider
• Winged Knights: Penetration
• Witherung Kingdom: Arcane War
• Woodle Tree Adventure
• Yellow: The Yellow Artifact
• Zero Gear

Uplay

• Rayman® Origins
• Watch_Dogs™
• Watch_Dogs™ DEDSEC Edition Content

GoG

• Little Nightmares - DLC Tengu Mask
• Little Nightmares - DLC Fox Mask

Playstation 4

• Tekken 7 - PS4 DLC Theme"
• Project CARS 2 - Dynamic Theme PS4"
• Dark Souls III Transitory Lands PS4 Theme
• Dark Souls III The Ringed City PS4 Theme
• Sword Art Online : Hollow Realization: DLC Maid Costume (Also PS Vita)
• DRAGON BALL XENOVERSE 2 - Masters Pack
• DIGI’ADVENTURE PACK - PS4
• One Piece Burning Blood - Golden Luffy DLC (Also PS Vita)
• Tales of Zestiria - Mystische Artes und PlayStation-Designs (Also PS3)
• Little Nightmares - DLC Tengu Mask
• Little Nightmares - DLC Fox Mask

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Ok so I'm sorry this is super long but I really hope someone reads this because I could really do with some advice.
So basically it started when my boyfriend (then fiance - together 5 years engaged for 2) cheated on me back in December. I won't go into too much detail but it was a pretty rough time and he did some fucked up shit I never expected him to do. One of them being he came home one night and said he is entitled to half of this house, to which I responded by giving him our whole shared savings (about 7k) just so he didn't go down some legal route.
We broke up end of December and he left (which I thought was for good because he made it v clear at that time he didn't want the life we had together). When I told my parents this they set the wheels in motion to get his name off the mortgage and they were pretty stressed about it all.
I should mention as well - the house is my grandparents house which was gifted to me and my two brothers a few years ago from my mum, because I owed a third though that the mortgage was only ever for my two brothers share and my dream has always been to keep it in my family and one day pass it down to my kids, it's my dream home and I don't plan on moving ever.
Anyway, skip to February, after he's spend January with his new girlfriend and I've spend January in the biggest depression of my life, he comes back and basically says this is worth fighting for and wants to give it another go, so we agree to try and reconcile. It's not been perfect since then though - I am still struggling with being depressed, the cheating effected me more than I ever expected, my self esteem and confidence is pretty much none existent at this point. And since then he's got in a motorbike accident and will be off work sick for months meaning he's been in a pretty rough place too. We talked about the mortgage a few months ago and it didn't go down well - I wasn't happy that I was having to go through with it anyway - but I felt like he caused this, but ive paid my mortgage advisor and hes spend months on this so I dont want to be wasting anyone's time.
Yesterday a letter arrived address to me and my mum (her name has to go on it because I can't afford it on my own on paper) but she's signed a bunch of shit to say she's not getting anything out of it. He sees the letter and goes crazy. He's furious, thinking I've forged his signature behind his back or thinks my mum is out to get him - either is not remotely true, my mum isn't ever the type to do that and neither am I. God, even when he cheated on me I never said he had to leave the house, we took it in turns staying at our parents.
He's angry because he sees this as I don't trust him, he sees the mortgage as a representation of our life together and thinks the worst. Yesterday he said something like "yes I didn't know what I wanted 6 months ago but that doesn't mean it should cause issues now" whereas it wasnt "he didn't know what he wanted", he literally had a new girlfriend and had left for good.
I see it as a piece of paper and its not going to change any of my day to day life or what we do together - as long as the mortgage is paid I don't really care who's name is on it, and I would never in a million years throw him out with nothing. The current mortgage is up by the end of this month and he's demanding his name is put on it - but the offer is already in place and accepted and I don't have time to change it now. I can't see us coming to an agreement, the easiest thing for me to do is just go ahead with it at this point and I just want an easy life, but at the same time I know he won't back down. It's a two year mortgage- the shortest term - and I've said plenty of times if he still wants this by then of course he can go back on it. I see it as fair - if the only consequence for his actions is to not be on the mortgage for two years I think that's a fair price for what I went through, he does not see it that way at all.
So yeah, it's long and I hope someone reads this because I need all the advice I can get - AITAH?? And if I am - please help me understand because we both really can't understand the other sides pov.

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I can see alot of people singing praises of this game and I want to join them today after beating it. I was made aware of it from fireborns video about few days before it came out and although I really liked what I saw I was not going to play the game or at least not directly after It came out. Than came one evening I was browsing steam library and saw that the game was out already. I was bored and decided why not. Let me tell you what a ride it has been. Took me 32 hours cause I really wanted to take my time with the game. The combat, story and art style are so captivating that I literally lost myself in this game. I really hope that more people pick it up and it gains popularity because I truly think it deserves it. In my eyes a true masterpiece.

I had a huge crush on somebody at my school last year, since we were seniors I decided to try to talk to them before the school year ended. we actually did talk before as classmates so I decided why not? Fast forward, we’re talking and we have a lot in common, they told me how they recently just broke up with there gf and so I asked them out. He told me that he would take things slow which I understood. but long story short it ended with love bombing, playing with my feelings, he was a pathological liar, and struggled with empathy. He cheated on his gf too. (He admitted that) But also I was playing along so I’m not any better. I knew we were hurting each other but I kept going. Honestly, I just wanted to try to fix him. Realistically I should’ve just said this isn’t gonna work. But I kept going.
He had blocked me after this. So I got another number, I contacted him again. He never reached back and I genuinely thought the number just didn’t go through, so I found his tiktok through my contacts, I texted him and nothing. I thought well he probably is never on the app. You know what I fucking did next? I made a letter and walked to his house, and dropped it off like it was normal. He never gave me his address btw. (I only knew where he lived because he said what street he lived on and showed me photos of his house, but still creepy)
About a few days later, it finally hits me how fucking disgusting my behavior is. This was the only time my limerence got so bad that I was now hurting others and potentially making someone feel unsafe. The letter had nothing, no threats, a thank you letter specifically but nonetheless I deleted everything off my phone so I couldn’t do anything else potentially. I’m actually afraid to be in public, in fear I may accidentally run into them or there family and he might think I’m still stalking him. my town is quite small.
I genuinely didn’t want to hurt him but in the moment I wasn’t thinking how crazy this all was. I’m not excusing it. I’m a bad person. I want to just hide and avoid mirrors because the shame is eating at me. I can’t look at myself. Or sleep. I feel as though this was a wake up call. I’m currently trying to seek a therapist. I’m contemplating on confessing to the police because I just can’t live with myself.
If you are somehow reading this, I’m genuinely sorry I’m just crazy and I’m trying to get help. If you are concerned I might come back to harass you, that won’t be happening because I’m getting a new number and moving states soon.

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

Part I: The Van Billiards

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

Part II: Other Possibilities

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

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

A few possibilities can be easily excluded from this list:

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

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

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

Our list is thus reduced to:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Part III: Conclusion

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

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

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

(OPEN & LOOKING)

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

Request:

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

Game Synopsis:

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

Citing the Original Game:

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

Proof of Concept Test Video:

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

Proof of Concept, Playable Game:

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

Synopsis of Theme:

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

Overview of Game ‘Chunks’:

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

Market Expectations:

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

What Happened and why am I doing this:

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

Build Time:

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

Goal Post 1:

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

Goal Post 2:

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

Goal Post 3:

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

Marketing:

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

Sound:

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

Revshare:

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

Response:

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

Timezone:

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

About you:

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

I've left tech for about two years. I'm trying to make it in a different field, but sometimes I miss the pure joy of coding. But not the drama.
It was a nightmarish 3 years at a unicorn tech company...can't put it otherwise. I still process over the trauma it gave me. I still wonder what I could have done differently, how much of it was really my fault. Maybe I really wasn't a good Software Engineer, and maybe I was really a good-for-nothing crybaby, as they seemed to view me, and deserved all the shit I got. But I can't help feel I was some sort of "scapegoat" of the company, at least the team.
For background, I am an Asian female. I have a BS and an MS in CS from one of HYPSM (this was my first job out of school). But your degree and your ability isn't really that related. I was never really a programming kid growing up, and I kinda went with the flow to choose CS as a major because "everyone is doing CS" (and other practical reasons). That's my fault. Maybe this was the price I had to pay.
I admit I didn't feel 100% capable and skilled at any time during my job. Sometimes I dealt with a lot of brain fog. When your HR isn't helping you, and your manager had the audacity to put you on the same project as the person you reported, how much can you focus on learning the codebase?
Even though I wanted to train myself, be better, having all the emotional baggage really drained me down. I learned it's colossally difficult to learn and improve when you are, well at least you believe you are, not treated like an equal human being by those around you. It was also during the pandemic.
There are too many instances to count. Too many slights, snubs, mansplaining, etc. to go through. But here are just some key dramas that happened:
1.At my first team, the manger was a fellow Asian female. Everyone else were dudes. They barely talked about my "new grad project" which "didn't have a deadline." I was invisible at meetings, so was my project. However, suddenly, they realized my project had a deadline. I found that out, like 1.5 weeks before the deadline. Apparently when my manager said it "didn't have a deadline," she meant "If it's done before the deadline, it ships. If not, then it doesn't ship. Like ever." But the PM (and the Marketing Team) wasn't on roll with that. This had to ship. So I suddenly worked lots of over-hours and worked with the manger to cut down on many spots to make the deadline.
But the manager took no responsibility of the havoc it caused, and I got zero credit for pulling this through (because "you got help from so many people" - really? looking back, that looks like a fairly normal amount of collaboration between people who work on the same, uh, company. And I really wrote all the code...). And also, why would anyone want to work on something for months, knowing it will never ship??? If she thought that was really ok, why didn't she tell that to me sooner???

1. There was an older white dude that kept making icky comments. He would "compliment" my outfit, would ask me to rate the attractiveness of a celebrity, and so on. This caused me a lot of confusion and I couldn't focus on my work (to be fair, these comments were fairly benign compared to the totality of yuck within tech, but as I said, I was a fresh grad so had no immunity to these stuff).

Then one day, when I asked him where he was going to sit, he said "on your lap."
I was shocked. I couldn't focus on anything. I mean now, as I am four years older and four years more jaded, I think I can brush it off. But back then, not at all. This was the company that said they care so much about women and underrepresented minorities. I can't give you too many details, but this company really espouses the point that they are "different from other tech companies" and "everyone is welcomed and respected." They have a really good brand (looking back, it was a borderline cult).
After a lot of thinking (and searching up similar stories on Reddit), I reported this to my manager. The same manager from #1. Her knee-jerk response?
"He says that to guys too," with a smile, as if I am bringing up the stupidest thing ever.
Looking back, she was a borderline psychopath. Not just because of this, but everything that happened during our relationship.
Anyhow, she reported this to HR, because she knew it would look bad on her if she didn't. Now, the HR lady was that typical white HR lady that says she will help you but secretly wants to destroy your soul.
They - the manager, HR lady, many other people I talked to - let me talk about all the difficulties of being a woman in tech. They let me talk about all the instances I felt snubbed for being a woman, not just this on-your-lap dude. They were like “Yeah, bring it all up!" “Call it all out!" “We want to hear from you!" “Our company is different from other companies!!!" Looking back, I shouldn't have. I should have just kept to the point about the dude. I was really just playing the woman card. I wish I knew they were making me talk not to help me, but to collect ammunition to paint me as the good-for-nothing crybaby they had to make me be.
How do I know this? Well, for one - HR never got back to me. I never found out what happened with the on-your-lap guy. When I asked them, like after a year, they said it's "confidential."
And my manager? Well....she said she thinks I have "low tolerance to stress." And she also said that "when you are more senior, you'll realize how wrong you were." (I can't remember the exact wording, but it was basically the same effect, revealing that she never listened to me in the first place.)
And then she put me on the same project as the on-your-lap guy, and we had to work together one-on-one for weeks. Back then, I didn't realize it, but now, it chills me to the bone how much she didn't care.
There are many other instances where this manager gaslighted and snubbed me, even in more professional context, but I have to give too much context. Looking back, she really couldn't stand me. I was this weird thing that came in to her perfect team and was starting to ruin it. She and the on-your-lap guy had worked well together for years - she wasn't going to jeopardize that relationship because of this good-for-nothing-entitled-crybaby-girl. And the HR?? Well, I think they loved the drama. I was just a drama source. Not a human being.

1. After all that happened (+much more), you wouldn't be surprised that I just didn't want to befriend anyone in the company anymore. I just kept to myself, didn't socialize, just did my work. But here's my sin - I wanted to be acknowledged for my work. That was my fault. I should have just accepted my role as the quiet, obedient coding monkey, who has no emotion, and who occasionally provides drama for the fun of everyone -- I shouldn't have dared to think I can be recognized as a competent laborer!! But I wanted to.

And maybe now, and better as I get older, I can practice the elusive art of getting your work done while being undisturbed by all human bullshit surrounding me, but I wasn't able to do that back then. Also the angst from all previous drama hadn't been resolved. I became "sharp, aggressive, hard to work with" -- all the classic things women in tech are called. I became snappy when men started being mansplainy (maybe now, I have the wisdom to just smile and let them mansplain while I mentally plan my dinner). I became angry when too many meetings and interviews got scheduled, leaving me scarce time for actual work (maybe now, I have the stamina to wake up at 5am, get work done "before work," and let them waste my "working hours").
This continued until this young white male joined the team. He was new to the company, but he was about a year or two more senior than me. He talked a lot. He would talk about 90% of the meeting. And meetings would go over 1-2 hours. He had no respect for meeting members' time. If he wanted to talk, we were to be his audience. This irked me (maybe now, I have the inner balance to just politely and calmly excuse myself from the meeting with a plausible excuse).
And then he joined this project me and another colleague had been working on for months before he joined. We would have meetings where he would just talk and talk, and the 30-minute meeting was going on its two-hour mark. And he didn't seem to care. And he was talking nonsense.
One key nonsense was that he was suggesting we import certain third-party data into a "big, giant table." I said that wouldn't be feasible as the third-party data is nested. He asked me to explain. I did. But he wouldn't get it. Actually, he wasn't even listening to me. He seemed hurt that I shot down his idea (and pooped his party) and didn't want to admit he could be wrong. He kept looking for ways where nested data can be indeed imported into a "big, giant table." (A week later, he saw my point.) They all made no sense. I got very irritated. And became...ah, aggressive.
For the next hour or so, I was very snappy. And shot down all his ideas. He got very hurt. And we ended the meeting. Looking back, I should have just zoned out and watched cat videos while he was performing his standup comedy. And then get real work done with the other colleague while barely including him. All the while giving him the ego validation - the only thing he wanted. But I lacked the flexibility to act smart like that.
After the meeting, I felt a bit bad for being so snappy. And I found out he was indeed right for one point he said. He said our X service has Y but I said it doesn't, because it is barely used and I didn't encounter its existence for the 2+ years I was in that company. But it really did have Y (there's little likelihood he actually knew that, he was just spewing whatever came to his mind and got luckily right) so I apologized to him on that point over Slack. Later, my such "apology" would become proof that I was 100% culpable during that meeting. (I realize this is why my manger from Story 1 never apologized. She knew it could be used against her.)
The week of the meeting, and the week after, this kid (I don't know what else to call him) scheduled meetings with me to "talk about that meeting." And we were on Zoom...and I didn't know what to do?? I asked him, "Do you want me to apologize?" He said no. "Should I be nicer during meetings?" He said that wasn't it. "THEN WHAT???" He didn't say anything. But looked at me like I was some sort of psychopathic monster. And these meetings, again, went overtime by a lot. I was, in my working hours, sitting on a one-on-one Zoom, expected to pet and stroke this pouting kid's ego. (THEY never petted MY ego. WHY SHOULD PET HIS??????)
And that didn't end there. Our co-manager (different from Story 1, 2 manager - this one is white male) had multiple 1-on-1s with me (at least three or four) where we talked about "my behavior during that meeting." I asked him the same questions "WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO???? OR SAY????" (I didn't scream this, but I wanted to.) He said "I don't know." But he just sat there, expecting me to say something. Here I was, spending three or four meetings with my manager, talking about "my behavior," given no actionable feedback, but not even allowed to move on to talk about actual work. It was just torture. What did they want me to do? Kneel down and repent??
It didn't end there. The kid gave me detailed peer feedback, basically word salad, where he used all my words against me and painted me as some psychopathic monster. This was going to go on my HR file forever since it was official feedback. He said we were in a "divergent phase in brainstorming" so it wasn't appropriate for me to shot down his ideas like that, which should have been done in a more "convergent phase." WTF????? Never heard those words before. And again, we had already been working on this project for months before he joined.
The same company that basically told me to eat it up when I was getting snubbed (Story 1 & 2), was basically telling me to stroke the ego of this kid. Because what? Because he's a white male??? And I'm an Asian female???
What they wanted to say, was already indirectly saying, was this: “Shut up and eat up all the bullshit we give you.“ Bullshit including bullshit management, bullshit meetings, bullshit brand. But they didn't want to say it, because it goes against their brand. But they still wanted me to get the message and act accordingly. But they didn't want to be the one who says it.
I wish they just said this. Then my three years would have been lot less confused and dramatic. And they wouldn’t have had the grumpy colleague I was. But I guess if they were that transparent, I wouldn’t have joined them in the first place.
This is a brick wall of a post. It got longer than I initially thought. Thanks to anyone that read this far. This still doesn't contain all of the drama I experienced -- maybe about 20%? But this gives you the idea. Basically, I didn't feel like an equal human being. I felt like a scapegoat of sorts, getting hazed for having a backbone. Looking back, I am thankful that I didn't actually go crazy. I mean, they were already treating me like a crazy person.
Women in tech of Reddit. Please tell me. What went wrong? What should I have done? Is this level of bullshit normal? Can I work in tech again?

It's difficult to find someone who doesn't have strong opinions about which of the different types of cake flavors is the best. Each of us has a favorite type and flavor.
It may be a mile-high, rich and sweet layer cake with lots of frosting for some. Others prefer a lighter cake with a dollop of whipped cream and fresh berries, such as angel food cake.
Some people will only eat homemade cakes when it comes to birthday cakes, but a few of us enjoy a good old-fashioned grocery store cake or even a cookie cake with a letter scribbled in tube icing.
Whatever your preferences, knowing the facts about different types of cake flavors is beneficial. Cakes are ideal for sweets, gatherings, celebrations, and pretty much everything else.
There are many distinct cake flavors, and You can combine them in many ways, such as red velvet and vanilla cakes.
Nowadays, you can make cakes in almost any flavor and shape. There is a great cake flavor out there for whatever occasion or craving.
However, not all flavors complement one other. Some flavor combinations are simply superior to others. Cakes are a delectable and traditional part of any celebration, and it is your responsibility as a baker and host to provide the best options available.
Without much ado, let's discuss some of th different types of cake flavors available.

1. Yellow Butter Cake

A sheet cake variation of this delicacy, covered with billows of chocolate frosting and rainbow sprinkles, is served at many kids' birthday parties.
Also, c the butter and sugar together (with an electric mixer in modern times) is a standard method for making yellow butter cakes, then adding dry and wet ingredients.
There are also "dump" variations, in which all of the ingredients are simply combined in a bowl.

2. Red Velvet Cake

A chemical reaction between cocoa powder and acidic buttermilk turns red velvet cake scarlet, but a drop of red food coloring makes the bright cake shine.
The delectable cream cheese frosting is an absolute must. This is a true Southern classic and a great favorite. The color of red velvet cake derives from the reaction of buttermilk and cocoa powder when made with either butter or oil.
Also, modern variations often use red food coloring, or in the instance of the raspberry velvet cake shown here, pink food coloring.

3. Pound Cake

This cake doesn't rise much when baking and has a dense texture. It's named after the fact that it's made using a pound of each of the key ingredients (flour, butter, and sugar).
Matcha and cocoa powder is used in our version, although vanilla essence is used in traditional recipes. Bake one of these in a loaf pan or a Bundt pan. This is one of the different types of cake flavors.

4. Carrot Cake

Carrot cake is a shorter cake leavened with baking soda and baking powder and utilizes oil instead of butter as its primary fat.
Also, The inclusion of grated carrots adds moisture to the cake. Warm spices flavor the carrot cake, topped with a luscious cream cheese frosting. Walnuts or pecans are optional!.
Furthermore, Carrot cake recipes vary in the quantity and amount of spices used and the addition of nuts and fruit.
Still, tender chunks of sweet carrot, an ideal dosage of cinnamon, and a fantastic frosting are what make a perfect carrot cake. Try our Carrot Cake Cupcakes recipe.

5. Sponge Cake

This foam-style cake has no artificial leaveners (baking powder or baking soda). It is entirely made up of whipped eggs, either whole or just whites.
This cake can be soaked in flavored syrups (try lemon syrup with a dab of lemon curd) or stacked with whipped cream and smashed berries.
Sponge cake can be rolled with fillings when baked thin in a sheet pan, like Buche de Noel's Christmas classic.

6. Genoise Cake

In Italy and France, a sponge cake is known as Genoise. Egg yolks, egg whites, and sugar are mixed together until mousse-like in this dessert. The flour, oil, or butter is then folded in. This cake is moister and more delicate than its sponge cake counterpart.

7. Chiffon Cake

A chiffon cake is a sponge cake and an oil cake hybrid. It has the richness of a shorter cake thanks to the addition of oil, and it's light and airy thanks to whipped egg whites and baking powder.

8. Angel Food Cake

Angel food cake is the lightest of the light, created with only beaten egg whites for leavening and no extra fat. It's traditionally made in an angel food cake pan and then cooled upside down in the pan to keep the light texture. Its high sugar content in an angel food cake gives it a chewy, sponge-like feel.

9. Funfetti Cake

Funfetti is a joyful and fun dessert that has received a lot of love from its fans, earning it the eighth slot on this list. Also, Funfetti is a delightful birthday cake with colorful sprinkles both inside and out. This is one of the different types of cake flavors.

10. Vanilla Cake

Vanilla is, believe it or not, the third most popular and well-liked cake flavor. It's flexible and goes well with various flavors, including chocolate, lemon, and strawberry.

11. Coffee Cake

They're tasty and come in various coffee flavors, including Irish and Mocha. Also, this cake is ideal for coffee enthusiasts as a treat.

12. Banana Cake

The banana cake is the cake flavor that makes you go bananas. It has a juicy texture and an overpowering flavor. This is one of the different types of cake flavors.

13. Pineapple Cake

The pineapple, like the cake, is a beautiful element for desserts. The cake has a refreshing flavor and a stunning appearance.

Hi. I was issued a letter by a couple of officers at my doorstep a few days ago to make my way to the police station very soon. There was a cheating case that had my identification involved but of course I personally had no involvement in it.
More details: On January I fell victim to a job scam. Went looking for a side job and found the ad on a pretty reputable telegram job group. Contacted them and gave them all my details. This is definitely my error. I wasn’t cautious enough to stop myself from giving away access to my Singpass when asked. After I gave that away I got very suspicious that the person did not reply me after they said they’d get back to me soon. After multiple failed calls, I dug a little deeper and found out that the contact was part of a scam and I only realised it after everything was done. I did all I could to retract all of my documents from the contact and lodged a police report. I called all the banks available to shut down any accounts that were made in my name. Even followed up with the officers until they called to inform me that no further action needed on my end. Fortunately I did not lose any money to the scam but I strongly believe that they were after my identification more so than my money.
Fast forward and now I’m being called to the police station. I’ve no experience in this at all and have a clean record. No criminal past. Would like to know if I should be aware of certain things or what I will need to prepare for. Have already prepared all the evidence I could get my hands on regarding the scam. Thanks for the help.

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I am interested in interactive story telling. The most impactful stories I have read or engaged with in the last few years have been games. My goal is to explore that medium and that way of telling stories that are impacted by who the reader interacts with it.
All my experience is in start to finish story writing. Novels, sometimes novellas, extremely rarely short stories. I don't know much about writing scripts.
I am in the exploration phase of developing this hobby and that exploration is big.

1. Am I going to end up making an RPG with true gameplay elements like item collection and a combat system?
2. Am I hiring an artist and making a visual novel?
3. Am I writing an interactive game using twine or a similar engine?

Each of these ideas has pros and cons.
RPG with Godot
I like the idea of digging deep into the programming on something like GODOT and making an RPG. I've started exploring the tutorials and poking around the engine. I think this is most likely to create a product that I would like. Downloading an indie dev's story-based RPG is something I do and it's a kind of game that I enjoy.
The con here is that my programming experience is basic javascript and some HTML so digging into an object oriented programming environment with that much functionality means the learning curve is a steep slope straight up. Exciting but also A Lot.
Interactive Fiction with Twine
A twine game fits in my current skillset. I know how to write prose far more than I know how to script dialogue, most of Twine's programming is the kind of programming I am familiar enough with that my questions are more "how does twine do x?" instead of starting from "what can this thing do?" I have to do some learning to do but the learning curve is then focused on "how to tell branching narratives" instead of on EVERYTHING like Godot.
The problem here is that I don't enjoy interactive fiction. Even really good games that are well put together can't hold my attention. The interactive features pull me out of the immersion I would get with a book. But they interactive features aren't interactive enough to hold my entire attention the way a "real" video game does.
Visual Novels with ??? Renpy maybe?
The scripting attempts I have made so far seem to fit the Visual Novel style and the story I have in mind is a fantasy with heavy romance angles and romance is a big genre in VN (in a way I feel like it isn't for indie RPGs which are usually marketed on story or game play or art style whereas you see VNs specifically marketed for the romance).
I have never played a VN. I don't like the popular art style. I look at lists of recommended Visual Novels and go "meh." and I feel like being That Person who is making a thing without liking the thing is stupid. I am not going to understand my audience's expectations or wants. Also - I cannot currently draw. I would probably have to hire an artist to get this to a demo stage.
Do I dig deeper into VNs? Really get into the guts of the genre. Get past my aversion to the anime art style? There must be fascinating stories in that genre. I'm like a week into toying with the VN idea so there's so much I don't know.
Do I jump all in with Godot and bury myself into tutorials until I emerge from the other side with a functional knowledge of the engine?
Do I just draft the story as a story and then try to map it to a game engine later?
I feel like the game engine will seriously impact the story, if it is going to be an RPG with combat and items and physical environments to explore, that will impact the story I write. If it's going to be a VN then that means writing it is mostly scripting dialogue. If it's going to be a IF then that means writing in prose.
This is Baby's First Shitty Game.
I am probably overthinking it.
I am just frustrated and struggling to see it in my head. I can see my characters and the story I want to tell about this town. But I don't know how that will come to exist.

Content Warning: This story contains themes of mental health issues, suicide and physical violence.
Prosopagnosia v. Cotard's Syndrome
My new doctor - a bright and friendly guy named Sarbjit - took the time to explain his diagnosis to me. He told me my condition was mental, not physical, but it was hard to pay attention to everything he said because my left arm was numb and rotting from the inside out. I smiled and nodded and then when I got home I looked up Cotard’s Syndrome online. Here is what Wikipedia had to say on it.
“Cotard's syndrome, also known as ‘Cotard's delusion’ or ‘Walking Corpse Syndrome’, is a rare mental disorder in which the affected person holds the delusional belief that they are dead, do not exist, are putrefying, or have lost their blood or internal organs.”
I don’t know. Sounded extremely strange to me. I just knew my left arm was dying. Maybe my liver too. I used my right arm, the good one, to open my mail. Most of it was just the normal stuff but when I saw the letter from the Supreme Court of the State of New York I got a little worried. I was here legally - a citizen for almost ten years now - and I knew my rights but being summoned to testify at this criminal trial was a bit unnerving. I didn’t like it. I just try to do my best in this life and mind my own business and not cause problems for others.
When my trial appearance date arrived two months later I took the subway downtown and left my assistant, Stavvy, in charge of the office that day. I sat there on a hard wooden bench in the courtroom all morning listening to the testimony of other witnesses but I wasn’t called to the stand until sometime after we returned from lunch. Eventually, the lawyer for the defense called my name.
She mispronounced it of course - people here always mispronounce Albanian names - so I wasn’t surprised when she called me Mister Shka-Rell-Eee. My surname is Shkreli, after the place where my family comes from, and the proper pronunciation contains only two syllables - Shkrell-Eee. I was trying to hold my left arm in place when she asked her opening question.
Where was I at the time of the murder?
“Well, Miss Anderson” - I pronounced it Ahnd-REE-Sawn, drawing out the first and last syllables while placing too much emphasis on the middle one, intentionally - “I am not entirely certain. That was over a year ago and I travel all around this city on a daily basis for my job. I work in computer repair and IT support and I have customers in all five boroughs.” (This wasn’t exactly true. I wasn’t really willing to travel to Staten Island.) We had spoken four months earlier when she informed me of the questions she intended to ask at trial but I was fairly oblique then and I intended to remain so now. I had bigger problems. Could these people not see that my left arm was rotting away?
She looked at me with a furrowed brow and briskly walked back to the defense table, picked up a leather-bound notepad and opened it.
“Mister Shkreli, when you and I spoke on June 18th you confirmed that you were just leaving a client’s office, TRG Commercial Realty, located at 223 Broome Street here in lower Manhattan at approximately 3:30pm that day, shortly before the incident at issue took place less than one block away. Is that not correct?”
I turned up my native eastern European accent a bit and repositioned my left arm in my lap. I could barely feel it at that point. What was wrong with these people?
“If you say so. Like I said, that was over a year ago and it was just another workday for me.”
She stared at me for a beat or two longer than necessary and then flashed a quick look towards the jurors before continuing.
“Well yes, Mister Shkreli” - again it was Shka-Rell-Eee - “You did tell me that and I do have a recording of our conversation, which you consented to before we began, if the court would like this to be entered into evidence?”
She looked at the judge and the judge looked at me.
“Mister Shkreli,” - he too pronounced it Shka-Rell-Eee - ‘Are you refuting the testimony that Miss Anderson is referencing during your preliminary deposition or can we just move on at this point? If counsel for the defense claims to have this recording I am fairly certain this is true. Will it be necessary to enter this recording into evidence at this time or are you willing to acknowledge Miss Anderson’s claim?”
I repositioned my left arm in my lap and nodded.
“That’s fine, Your Honor. As I said, it was just another workday for me but if Miss Anderson says that is what we discussed I am sure she is probably right.”
The judge nodded back at me. “Very good. Let’s proceed then.”
Miss Anderson walked back to the defense table and dropped the leather-bound notepad before continuing with her final question for me, looking annoyed.
“Picking up where we left off, Mister Shkreli, can you please describe for the court what happened immediately after you left the offices of TRG Commercial Realty at 223 Broome Street on the date in question, October 22nd of last year?”
I didn’t like the way that she was trying to fence me in but I wasn't particularly concerned. I had bigger problems.
“Well, like I said, I don’t really remember that day. There was nothing memorable about it. It was just another day.”
She stared at me for a few seconds then flashed a quick look at the jury box with her eyebrows raised before returning her attention to the judge. “No more questions, Your Honor.”
I was dismissed from the stand but asked to remain in the courtroom as she called her next witness; a small, frail woman from Queens about my same age named Maureen Stewart. She had an odd, twitchy nature about her. I wanted to get home. I wanted to relax.
“Miss Stewart, can you please tell the court where you were on October 22nd of last year at approximately 3:30 in the afternoon?”
The witness looked down for a moment and then glanced towards the judge before removing the slightly confused look from her face and responding in a semi-automated tone.
“Yes, Miss Anderson. At that time, I was just leaving my day shift at the FedEx Office Store (she pronounced it ‘Staw’ in her thick New York accent) on Broome Street and I was walking towards the station for the Six Train to begin my ride back home.”
The attorney for the defense took a momentary pause and then asked her next question.
“And can you please tell us what happened then?”
The witness looked down again and then looked back at the judge, then the jury and, finally, at me. I didn’t like the way she looked at me.
“Yes, as I was leaving my workplace I crossed the street and I remember walking past the entrance to a narrow alleyway where I heard a commotion taking place. It made me stop and look for a second or two but I didn’t want to get involved so I just kept on walking towards the subway and I didn’t think too much about the whole thing until the Homicide detectives contacted me a few days later after they pulled the security camera videos. I came down to the police station the day after that and gave my statement. That was just over a year ago.”
Miss Anderson took a moment to stare at me. I didn’t like that either. I adjusted my left arm in my lap. It was completely numb.
“Thank you, Miss Stewart. Can you please be a bit more specific about what you saw occurring in that alleyway?”
Again, the witness looked down at the floor and then her eyes shot all around the courtroom before she responded.
“Well,” she said, before taking a brief pause. “At first I thought it was just a little scuffle but when I saw the shorter man in the black jacket punch the tall man in the belly a few times I saw some blood starting to spread on the side of his white button-down shirt and I saw what looked like a small knife or something in the shorter man’s hand. The tall thin man looked like he was starting to fall. I remember looking around for a police officer but I certainly wasn’t gonna do anything about it by myself. I mean, what could I do? When I didn’t see no one who could help I just kept on walking towards the subway. I guess I should have done more but I was scared and I just wanted to get back to Forest Hills to pick up my daughter from daycare before five o’clock.”
I glanced at the defendant seated at the table on the left. He looked both hopeful and nervous at the same time, but in a subtle way, like he didn’t want to appear to be either. He kept his head down and never once glanced towards the jury box. Miss Anderson asked her final question.
“Thank you, Miss Stewart. And do you see the man in the black jacket who stabbed the victim, Mister Baronston, on that day last October here in the courtroom now?”
Again the witness looked down at the floor between her feet for a moment and then looked back up, right at me. I felt my blood stop flowing through my veins, or at least through my left arm and the top of my right leg, when she raised up her hand and pointed her index finger at me.
“It was that man, there,” she said.
Miss Anderson nodded and paused for a moment, satisfied, letting it sink in for the jury members. I was stunned. The stylish defense attorney in the toney, expensive clothing began walking back in my direction and she too pointed an accusatory finger.
“If it pleases the court, let the record show that Miss Stewart has identified Mister Jack Shkreli as the attacker who she witnessed in the-”
Just then the witness on the stand, Miss Stewart, pointed her finger at the judge without really looking at him and suddenly blurted out, “Or him. It might have been him too. I’m not 100% sure...”
Miss Anderson paused, clearly nonplussed, and just stared at her witness. The judge also looked baffled for a second or two and then leaned over and whispered something to his court assistant and the two of them shared a quiet smirk.
Then the witness pointed at one of the jurors, a man in the front row about my size.
“Or him. It could have been him. I’m just not sure...” Then she went silent, as did the rest of the courtroom for a few moments. The State’s Attorney, a heavy-set bald man, broke the silence pretty quickly as he rose to his feet.
“Your Honor, the State would like to move to dismiss this witness along with all previous testimony.” He paused briefly and took a deep breath, choosing his next words.
“While we appreciate Miss Stewart’s willingness to appear at trial today, I think it’s clear that her recollection of events is…uncertain at best.” He glared at the defense table for a moment, then added “I’d just like to remind the court that Mister Shkreli” - and God bless him, he pronounced my two-syllable surname correctly - “is not on trial here and if this witness cannot distinguish the man she saw that day from yourself or a random member of our jury panel I don’t think we can accept this testimony or any further testimony from this witness.”
He hung his head respectfully, with the tiniest little smile on his face. He already knew he had won this argument and the judge quickly agreed, telling the jury to disregard what they just heard. Miss Stewart was dismissed from the stand and the defense had no other witnesses left to call. Less than two hours later the jury returned a guilty verdict against the defendant on all counts and the courtroom was cleared. The sentencing hearing would take place at a later date and I was not required to be there. My right leg was starting to feel numb by then but I still managed to get back to the office in time for Stavvy to head home at the end of his shift to make dinner for his kids. His wife was killed in a car accident two years earlier. He was a hard worker and I really liked him.
That night, back at my apartment, I did some research online and learned about a rare mental disorder known as Prosopagnosia. Here is what Wikipedia had to say.
Prosopagnosia, also known as face blindness, is a cognitive disorder of face perception in which the ability to recognize familiar faces, including one's own face (self-recognition), is impaired, while other aspects of visual processing (e.g. object discrimination) and intellectual functioning remain intact.
It all sounded pretty strange to me but if the doctors say it’s real who am I to argue? Apparently it is well documented in the DSM-5. I don’t know if this is the reason why I was able to walk away from the courtroom without consequence at first but I think it is the most likely explanation. I only know that when I left my client’s offices at TRG Commercial Realty on that day just over a year ago and hailed a cab I was stunned and confused when Mister Baronston, a complete stranger with a hostile face, suddenly attacked me, claiming that it was his cab and not mine.
He was bigger than me, tall and thin but strong, and I would have just given up the cab and caught the next one but he was clearly already very angry about something. When he backed me towards the alley, shoving me and then punching me around my head and neck, my backpack tumbled open and I saw my wallet and phone and some other items come crashing out onto the pavement. It was just a stupid and unnecessary altercation, the kind of thing that probably happens on the streets of this city every day, sadly. Too many people, not enough space. I did my best to fight back and protect myself but he was a good deal bigger than me.
Then I was getting punched some more and thrown against the alley wall as people passed by, disinterested, and I just instinctively reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out the pen knife that has been attached to my keychain for years. Before I really knew what was happening it was open and then my right hand was growing warm and red and slick with his blood. Then I was moving again, not looking back.
What an odd thing. I remember seeing Miss Stewart stopping there on the sidewalk to look from the mouth of the alley that day. Of all the passers-by, she was the only one who paused to look at us, at me, right as I desperately punctured Mister Baronston’s rib cage for the fifth or sixth time with my little penknife and he began to drop, but she averted her gaze after a few seconds and moved on and then I was rapidly heading in the opposite direction. This is a huge city and I never expected to see her face again. Fortunately, she was apparently never really able to see mine.
Anyway, I have more important problems to worry about at this time. Stavvy received a letter from the Manhattan DA’s office yesterday ordering him to appear at a grand jury hearing next month related to my involvement in Mister Baronston’s death. He showed it to me. More importantly, my left arm is just about gone now, my right leg is quickly starting to feel the same way and in just the last day or two I have begun feeling that strange tingling sensation in the tips of the fingers on my right hand. I know my liver is failing. It won’t be long now.
I scheduled a meeting with my lawyer in the morning to legally put the business and the rest of my assets in Stavvy’s name in my will. I have no family here anyway and almost no relatives who I remain close with back in Albania or Montenegro anymore. Stavvy is a good man and he has kids to feed and I have already lived a full life.
So yes, I will just leave it all to him and after that’s done I think I will get the old Ford minivan that we sometimes still use for the business and drive it out to the George Washington Bridge while I am still able. I know that when I stop it and get out and leave it there on the center-span I will screw up traffic badly and inconvenience a lot of people but I can’t worry about that. I have to do what I have to do. There’s no point in waiting for this to get worse. I can barely feel the fingers on my right hand and I don’t have much time left.
Maybe I should have told the truth at the trial. I don’t know. I think I was just too distracted by all of my health problems. I didn’t really have any choice at the time. I don’t have any choice now. I’m actually surprised that I lasted this long. I was certain that I would already be gone a few months ago but I feel I have done my best with this life.
As my people back in Albania say, Mos pyet si vdiq, por si rrojti!
“Do not ask how he died, but how he lived!”
THE END