Suspect #1: ROSE WATERS

Season 1: Mental break at the Sinner's school taking a knife. Has been discharged from Radley. Very religious. Had two kids Archie and Angela.
Season 2: It's now confirmed that she was the person Davie saw at the soup kitchen!! So last seen actually kinda sane getting food. But with a run in with Davie that could trigger anything. Imogen and Davie left in a hurry after. First, second, and third victim were horny teenagers. Rose Waters would slut shame Angela.
Pros- religious and uses knife like Bloody Rose. Producers keep saying it's her and we already know which is so different for tv. Also she slut shames just like Bloody Rose's targets.
Cons- was sane in her last scene. Seems a little old to be Bloody Rose. No motive to start killing horn dogs now. Body doesn't match imo. If her face really was skinned, she sounds have died...?

Suspect #2: MS. BEASLEY

Season 1: Very religious. Wailing exactly like Rose Waters. Mentally unwell, submissive prior, possibly on meds prior. Knew Sheriff Beasley rapped Angela Waters. Eventually takes things into her own hands and stabs Sheriff Beasley repetitively when he threatened Kelly. Knife holding similar to Bloody Rose.
Season 2: religious gets another step connecting it to why Kelly is a born again virgin, as her mom's idea. Interesting since Bloody Rose's first three kills were all nonvirgins. Now sane seemingly. More mentally well than before the show even started tbh. Even more religious, wants to "save all that is worthy". Double standard with the virgin stuff bc she knew Tom was a rapist.
Pros- religious and uses knife like Bloody Rose. Wants her daughter to be a virgin, just like Bloody Rose kills those who aren't. Has motive to start now since she had hella trauma, killed her husband and lost her daughter. Been in every episode.
Cons- looks pretty normal. Mentally seems better than before. Unless that's because she is killing...

Suspect #3: DR. SULLIVAN

OG PLL: has son, Mona blackmailed her regarding him or smth to prevent her from telling the og Liars that Mona was A. Gave shitty advice like telling the girls to stay apart.
Season 2: she was a punk when she was in high school. Still gives crappy counseling imo. Uber involved in the girls and their family's lives. Is Imogen's bad reaction a side effect or a suspicious prescription?
Pros- her entrance is sus to some people. Actress said eventually she has alterer motives. We never got closure on what Mona had on her. She was a bad kid in highschool... like the sinners? Been in every episode. ~ some theorize Johnny is her son! Who's familiar with Rosewood...?
Cons- never had a psychotic break. Encouraged the girls to have hookups but Bloody Rose is killing those who hook up. No stabbing parallels the others. Too tall. Yeah she's really tall right? I don't think Blood Rose is.
Personally, based off the interview, I think she has a past in Millwood and knew the sinners with her punk history, but I don't see her as Bloody Rose. Def hiding smth, but not that.

Suspect #4: CHIP'S MOM

Season 1: seemly truly nice, knows Tabby well. Skinny neck like Bloody Rose!! Has the body for it.
Season 2: PISSED at the girls and mostly Tabby for defacing Chip's name. Mentally unwell? Thinks the Liars are liars.
Pros- hates the Liars. Perfect body for it!! Good timing to start.
Cons- hates the Liars, Bloody Rose is targeting people acting on sexual urges. Not the Liars yet. Also was not at all in 2x03.

Bonus mentions!

Shawn's Mom: doesn't like Noa and Shawn hooking up. Screentime for her seems random since Noa is getting with Jen anyway. If it was her though you'd think she'd of just killed Noa by now.
Kelly: I mean if she is even Kelly? She can still be Karen!!
Lola: does she know something? She was the first person we know to actually see Bloody Rose (and live). Yet doesn't remember anything the next morning?? Doesn't even recognize Ash?? Then proceeds to take Mouse to a creepy place the next episode! Hm you can remember that??
Jen: as one if you suggested!! Interesting time to join the show, suspicious, no? No new characters can be trusted! She asking too many questions too.
A Secret Twin: who doesn't love a good twin theory!

Hi! I'm currently an undergrad pre-med and I came to the realization that I probably need to take a gap year to ever have the chance of getting into med schools. I am deciding between doing a master's or just trying to work and gain some more shadowing and clinical hours. I really enjoy the school environment, learning, and whatnot so that's why I wanted to do a master's.
My dream med school would be University of Michigan and I want to do everything I can to increase my chances of getting in. I found the UMich "Molecular and Integrative Physiology" masters program and it doesn't look like a formal SMP but it seems like it is really similar to one since it is specifically for those who want to go to MD, DO, and dentistry schools. But from what I've seen, many who go through the program do it to increase their undergrad GPA. I currently have a 3.81 GPA so I would be doing the program to make connections at UMich (hopefully to help get me in) and boost my application with another degree. I know they also have a research path too but idk how much it would help since by the time I graduate I'l have 3 years of undergrad research assistant (hopefully a presentation too but we'll see).
Currently my ECs are meh, mostly my shadowing hours and clinical hours are low but I'm slowly getting them up. I have found it hard to get shadowing though because I moved to a new state in undergrad and have no connections to any physicians to get significantly more.
Basically I'm just wondering if I do this program, is there any overwhelming benefit to med schools or should I look at an actual SMP program or should I just try and get a job down at UMich instead?

TRIGGER WARNING: Bashing my weight and body on here after having my first child
I am currently almost 1 year postpartum and for the life of me cannot get back to my pre-pregnancy body. I literally have done everything to lose the weight once I was 6wks pp and got the okay from my doctor to exercise again. I have worked out every week day during my lunch breaks….walked 10k steps….maintaining a healthy diet without restricting like I use to….and yet I am still so un happy with my weight and the way how I look. I constantly see women around me or online who bounced back so quickly and I’m over hear with a pot belly and cellulite on my ass. I don’t wanna hear “it’s probably genetics” or “your body probably will never be the same” …. Like thanks I know I have shitty genes or that I’m never gonna be happy with my body again. I’m so tired of looking like this. My husband and everyone tells me I look amazing but I don’t see it. I’m currently weaning my soon to be 1 year old daughter from breastfeeding so hopefully that will help with my weight loss. I tried so hard to not restrict my food intake and did intuitive eating all these months but now I’m kicking myself for not restricting from the beginning. I’m currently intermittent fasting and will be eating less carbs. I don’t care anymore I just want to be happy with my body and not have another summer hiding it.

So, in my city, there are three great gyms, but I’m conflicted. For example, the wrestling gym has wrestling and boxing, but it is the same time as my wrestling I’m a blue belt and My BJJ is the only BJJ school and my kick boxing is a kickboxing-only school. I enjoy kick boxing. I have the funds to afford this until the fall and scheduling, but I’m not sure what to do.
I’m 19 and in good shape. My body is keeping up with training like 7x a week. I have an amateur kickboxing fight in a few weeks. A Bjj tournament in 6 weeks. And each school is the best in my city really at what they do. I really like all 3 so I would like to keep it going. Just not sure what to do

Please hide my identity.
Sorry for a really long message. I just want to rant about my trauma as a 1st year Klasmeyt in this blue and white school.
First sem was horrible but this sem is worst.
It started during the preliminary period of second semester, there were 2 weeks na wala kaming prof on our computing 2 course, but suddenly a professor naming M.L.C. and said to us that he will be gone for atleast 3 weeks because he has to attend a seminar on Singapore. So he gave a substitute learning material for us kasi wala din siyang hawak na syllabus and learning modules about the subject, So he gave his personal YOUTUBE ACCOUNT where he teaches so many topics, pero useless din ito kasi nga hindi namin alam kung ano-ano yung mga need namin panoorin. He also said The mathematics department is going to send a replacement professor for us. But none came. So much time was wasted waiting for a replacement professor for a 3:30 PM to 5:00 PM class.
But the time came and he got back for teaching us on preliminary period. Sobrang self-entitled niya like using mathematical symbols that were unfamilliar to us. But not only that, He was giving late announcements na walang klase to the point na 4:00 PM na kami naghihintay, dun palang siya magchachat sa GC namin na hindi siya makakapunta.
And at the start of midterms period, he said to us that he will resign because of personal reasons, so new substitute professor will be provided by the mathematics department. Mr. Ignacio was reassigned as our professor and yeah as you've expected, Bagsakan era. Only 2 (their grades was 2.25 and 3.00) out of 16 students passed on our course. Out of desperation, I started cheating on his exams, and whenever i looked around during exam, It's not only me that cheat and use calculators, BUT ALMOST EVERYONE. But i don't want to cheat anymore, it destroys my integrity and character.
He would come late in class, and immediately start giving QUIZ EVERY MEETING for only 15 MINUTES to do. This time is not enough, and his practice examples were not enough.
Mathematics was really my weakness, but I can keep up if I have a strong foundation in it. However, I was part of a K-12 program Pandemic Era where my calculus subjects (Pre-Cal and Basic Cal) were online, and we did not have a professor during my senior high school days. Kaya kung wala akong magandang nasimulan dito sa course na to, wala talaga.
I know matagal ng nirereklamo si Mr. Ignacio in this school, but why? parang walang action ang school dito. Because of this, I'm really fucked up, I'm really traumatized. I might resort into killing myself.

So, in my city, there are three great gyms, but I’m conflicted. For example, the wrestling gym has wrestling and boxing, but it is the same time as my wrestling. My BJJ is the only BJJ school and my kick boxing is a kickboxing-only school. I enjoy kick boxing. I have the funds to afford this until the fall and scheduling, but I’m not sure what to do.
I’m 19 and in good shape. My body is keeping up with training like 7x a week. I have an amateur kickboxing fight in a few weeks. A Bjj tournament in 6 weeks. And each school is the best in my city really at what they do. I really like all 3 so I would like to keep it going. Just not sure what to do

I'm currently searching for a good guide or a good template to track my habits and just be more organized to be more succsessfull with school and all the other stuff.
I'd be pretty happy, if the template looked good. So yeah it would be awesome if you have some guides or templates that you can give me

I graduated high school in 2021 and started a double degree in psychology and criminology as i was always facinated by the way the body works, I quickly realised I had no interest in any possible job post grad so dropped out real quick. Thank god for that.
After that I continued working a retail job while I tried to figure out what I wanted to do with myself. During that process I took a slight leap and started a new job in a workshop for an engineering company. I was told about it through a family friend and was under the impression it was a labour type job so I was a hesitant at first but the pay looked nice so I went for it.
Got to the place for an inteview and discovered I would be welding by using/controlling fanuc robots(!😳!). I was completely blown away by the place, it was the first time I had actually seen robots in full use. The job was more than I ever though it would be, I was learning so much every day about how the 'real world' oporated, I was taught how to MIG and TIG weld, how to write programs for the robot (fanuc not python) and a whole bunch of awesome skills. I was going in every day with this new excitement to learn, and knowing my resume was getting better and better felt pretty darn good.
I had started to truly appriciate how fcn cool and insane todays world is and how much goes into all the simple stuff, I describe it as just being in pure awe. With this new found passion, came this drive drive to actually succeed in life, It was the moment I knew what i wanted to do for the rest of my life. Mechatronic engineering baby.
I applied for the course and am now a semester in, the content is manageable but still intimidating. I feel very strongly about sticking to this and genuinely giving it all I've got, I ordered an arduino and set up python on my computer to try get ahead and understand more about how it all functions.
I’m reaching out because I want to keep this momentum going. If you’ve got any tips, resources, or advice on what I can do to really succeed in this field, I’d love to hear it. I’m all in on this path and want to make sure I’m doing everything I can to excel. For anyone working as an engineer what would you do in my position right now?
Officially locked in, this will be my origin story 😂

So my running pace has been on the slower side (25:30-27:59/mile). At first I tried to embrace it, by posting inspiring and relatable content to my instagram to help show people that slow runners are still runners.
But recently I've started to accumulate injuries after pushing myself to break under 2:00:00 in the 5k. I guess that's what I get for under fueling (only 3-10 gels/hour and only 2 bowls of Reeses Puffs pre race).
Anyway, I just saw a physical therapist (at least I assume he was one because he worked at a running store and had a fancy machine to analyze my gait). Assessment results showed that I understride -- about ~75% of my steps actually move my body in reverse, propelling me backwards, the exact opposite direction from where I am trying to go.
Luckily, this is a very treatable condition. According to my new PT, I just need to run even slower on my easy days, and also purchase around $2.5k of new gear (including a 10-day rotation of shoes, insoles, beans, and stroopwaffles).
TLDR: If you have injuries, don't wait to see a good PT and fix your running form

a 27 year old male living in the uk. My mental health hasn’t been great the last 10 years, and it has got significantly worse in the last two years. I have always had severe anxiety and depression. Although never diagnosed. All my life, I have been very insecure about who I was. I believe I am dumb, ugly, unlovable and unworthy. As a result I never really made an effort with anything. I never had any dreams or aspirations. I never dated or formed quality friendships. I don’t even have a career. I am a working a dead end warehouse job and I don’t see a positive future for myself.
Growing up I did poorly at school and never really excelled at anything. I could never find something I was good at and always felt incompetent. I have issues managing stress and every task overwhelms me.
I have self image issues and hate the way I look. I hate going out in public especially in the summer due to body issues. I am slim and struggle to gain weight. I also started balding very young and had severe acne growing up. I have blown thousands on fixing my appearance. Skin treatments, personal trainers, new clothes and eyebrow grooming. I have nothing to offer I might as well be pretty lol. 0 savingsa and now money issues. Tbh I still feel crap about my looks. Money wasted I guess…
To make matters worse, I have a speech impediment (stammer) that makes speaking incredibly difficult. I am so ashamed of my stammer that I hardly talk, and as a result have no friends or close connections. I feel so lonely. I never dated or had any romance. I am a closeted gay from religious Muslim family. I didn’t come to terms with my sexuality till age 22. I want to experience love. I honestly feel like I missed out. I am nearly 30 and it feels as if I will never meet anyone. Every guy I talk to I push them away, because I don’t feel good enough. I have hurt so many guys by ghosting them or blocking. I feel too ugly, dumb and unaccomplished in life. Who wants to date some loser 27 year old? With a stutter, no proper career and 0 friends.
Sad reality is I put myself here. My actions and decisions in life lead me here. I was weak and I allowed life to fuck me up. I have missed out on so much living. From age 16 to now it’s like I have been dead. Just a walking flesh. I pity my parents for having a son like me. But I resent them for just watching me become a car wreck. I don’t know if I have autism or adhd. Something is wrong with me. I have always felt different. I struggle with focusing on everything. Today I broke down in tears in my room. I feel anger, bitter and broken. I hate myself tbh. I have no purpose. I have reached my breaking point. Rock bottom. 27 years of rubbish. I don’t think I will ever be happy. I am not 18 or 21 it’s too late for me to get my life together. I can’t sleep at night and wake up with panic attacks because of how life has turned out. Writing this with tears as a grown man because I so desperately want out of my situation but I don’t know how….

As far back as I can remember, I had always been passionate about the great outdoors. My love for the wilderness began when I joined the scouts, exploring the diverse landscapes of Southern California, Nevada, Arizona, and Utah. I was never a huge fan of the dry, barren landscapes, but camping provided a much-needed escape from the monotony of Orange County suburbia.
The first time I visited the Pacific Northwest, I was enchanted. The scenery was breathtaking—majestic mountains, lush fields, and meandering rivers. It was clear that anyone who praised the desert's beauty had never laid eyes on the Cascades. Seeing grass and wildflowers growing without irrigation was practically a revelation.
When I was old enough, I moved to Washington state, immersing myself in nature every weekend. My adventures took me hiking through dense forests, camping by serene lakes, and occasionally taking mushrooms under peaceful waterfalls.
I joined several online forums dedicated to outdoor enthusiasts. One community that particularly fascinated me was the Northwest Tomb Raiders. This group of history buffs and thrill-seekers was dedicated to uncovering artifacts, whether Native American relics or treasures hidden in modern ruins. Many members were collectors, fencing their finds to museums and archaeologists, which made it a rather profitable side gig, should you be lucky enough.
In the fall of 2009, an intriguing post appeared on the forum. A user named Lokk claimed to have discovered a cache of artifacts with Scandinavian origins. He couldn't carry everything back due to the treacherous terrain and his age, so he shared the coordinates, hoping someone else could retrieve the items. I scrolled down to see a few posts of people planning to loot it in the Spring, when the paths have reopened. One user, Patagooner, planned on going as early as possible.
Excited by the prospect, I gathered my two friends, Carl and Noah, for the expedition. They weren't as enthusiastic about camping as I was, but after I told them how much a single arrowhead goes for on the black market, they were on board. It was the start of winter now, which had its advantages and disadvantages. On the plus side, the rangers would have a harder time spotting us. On the downside, the harsh conditions posed a serious challenge for two inexperienced hikers.
I must’ve blown about four grand at REI on gear for them, justifying it with the knowledge of how much more I would make with two extra packs. That is of course assuming there really were as many artifacts as Lokk had said, and Patagooner hadn’t beaten me there.
The journey began like any other. We met in the pre-dawn darkness and went over our supplies, ensuring we had everything we needed. By mid-morning, we were on our way, my pickup truck winding up the mountain paths. The roads of Olympic National Park were the epitome of the raw, untamed beauty of the Pacific Northwest.
They snake through ancient forests, where towering Douglas firs and Western hemlocks create a verdant canopy overhead. Mist clings to the trees, giving the landscape an ethereal quality. Occasionally, the forest would open up to reveal breathtaking vistas of snow-capped peaks and deep, shadowy valleys.
As we climbed higher, the landscape grew increasingly desolate. The dense forest thinned out, replaced by rugged terrain and jagged rock formations. The air grew colder, and the first flurries of snow began to fall, dusting the ground in a thin, white layer. The road became narrower and more treacherous, winding precariously along the edge of steep cliffs.
Finally, a road closure blockade signaled the end of our journey in the truck. We unloaded three dirt bikes—one mine, two rentals—and continued up the trail. The bikes roared to life, carrying us several more miles into the wilderness. The trail twisted and turned, cutting through dense underbrush and over fallen logs. The snow began to fall more heavily, blanketing the forest floor and muffling the sound of our engines. The world around us grew quieter, more isolated.
Eventually, the snow became too deep to traverse by bike. We dismounted and prepared to continue on foot. The silence of the forest was profound, broken only by the occasional rustle of branches in the wind. I checked my modern GPS, its screen displaying the coordinates and a relief map of our destination.
The cold air bit into our cheeks as we trudged through the snow-laden forest. The silence was almost oppressive, broken only by the crunch of our footsteps and the occasional call of distant wildlife. The GPS indicated we were close to our destination, but the dense underbrush and uneven terrain made progress slow.
Suddenly, Carl's excited whisper cut through the stillness. "Hey, look at that!"
He pointed to a small, furry creature ambling through the trees. It took a moment to realize what it was—a bear cub, innocently exploring its surroundings.
My heart sank. "Carl, get back," I hissed, my voice low but urgent. "Where there's a cub, there's a..."
Before I could finish, a massive shape exploded from the trees. The mother bear, easily three times the size of the cub, charged at Carl with a ferocity. She was a blur of dark fur and powerful muscles, her roar echoing through the forest.
"Run!" I yelled, but it was too late. The bear was upon Carl, swiping at him with her massive paws. He screamed as he fell to the ground, the bear towering over him. Desperation and adrenaline surged through me. I grabbed the nearest heavy branch and swung it at the bear, hoping to distract her.
Noah joined in, shouting and waving his arms. We had to be careful; one wrong move and she would turn on us. The bear snarled, turning her attention away from Carl for just a moment. It was enough for him to scramble backwards, clutching his bleeding arm.
"We have to get him out of here," I shouted to Noah, who nodded, fear etched on his face. The bear, still enraged, seemed torn between attacking us and protecting her cub.
Using the brief respite, we hauled Carl to his feet. His face was white, and he was clearly in shock. Blood soaked his sleeve, dripping onto the snow. "There's a ranger station about two miles from here," I said, my voice shaking. "We need to get him there. Now."
We half-carried, half-dragged Carl through the forest, every shadow and sound heightening our paranoia.
Finally, after what felt like forever, the small, wooden structure of the ranger station came into view. We had been avoiding the rangers to keep our expedition secret, but now it was our only hope.
Pounding on the door, I prayed for a quick response. The door creaked open, and a weathered face appeared. "What happened?" the ranger demanded, taking in the sight of Carl's bloodied form.
"Bear attack," I gasped. "We need help."
The ranger's expression shifted from suspicion to urgency. "Get him inside. We've got a first aid kit and a radio."
As we eased Carl onto a makeshift bed, the ranger inspected his wounds. "You're lucky," he said after a moment. "The cuts are deep, but they missed any major arteries. He'll need stitches, but we can handle that here. No need for an airlift."
The ranger's face darkened as he turned to me. "What the hell are you boys doing out here?”
I hesitated, "We... we were just exploring."
The ranger's eyes narrowed, his anger palpable. "Exploring? In a restricted area? In the middle of winter? Are you out of your minds?"
He worked quickly and efficiently, cleaning and stitching Carl's wounds. Carl winced but stayed silent, his eyes closed in pain.
"Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out here?" the ranger continued, his voice rising. "The storm, the wildlife... This area is off-limits for a reason! You should have known better." he said, pushing a finger into my chest.
"We'll stay here for the night," he continued, "The storm's getting worse, and it's too dangerous to move him now. We'll reassess in the morning. And count yourself lucky I don't arrest your asses."
Night fell quickly, the storm outside growing more ferocious with each passing minute. The howling wind battered the small ranger station, and the walls creaked under the pressure. We huddled in the main room, the tension thick in the air.
The ranger looked at us sternly. "I need to check the perimeter and make sure everything is secure. There are things out there you don’t want to encounter, especially in this storm."
"Things? What do you mean?" Noah asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The ranger's expression hardened. "Just stay put. No matter what you see or hear, do not leave this cabin. Understood?"
We nodded, the seriousness in his tone leaving no room for argument. "We'll stay put," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
The ranger grabbed his coat and shotgun. "I'll be back in an hour. Do not leave this cabin." With that, he opened the door and stepped into the raging storm, disappearing into the darkness.
As soon as the door closed, I turned to Noah. "We need to go. Now."
Noah's eyes widened. "Are you crazy? He said to stay put."
"If we wait until morning, we'll be escorted out of here and lose our chance. This might be our only opportunity to find those artifacts."
Noah hesitated with uncertainty "But... what about Carl?"
"He'll be fine here. The ranger can take care of him. We have to do this now."
Reluctantly, Noah nodded. "Alright. Let's take what we can and go."
We quickly looted extra gear from the cabin. I checked the GPS one last time before we slipped out into the storm, the cold wind battering us.
The snow fell heavily, obscuring our vision as we slogged through the forest. The ranger was nowhere in sight as we made our way towards the our destination, each step filled with trepidatious excitement.
The storm began to die down as we approached the coordinates. We stepped into a clearing where the undisturbed snow lay like a pristine white blanket. In the center stood an ancient, weathered stone altar, encircled by intricate wooden carvings, delicate metalwork, and beautifully crafted statues. The sight was breathtaking, a treasure trove, a veritable museum of paganism.
Noah and I exchanged glances, our eyes wide with amazement. "Do you see this?" I whispered, barely able to contain my excitement.
"We're going to be rich," Noah replied, his voice trembling with awe. "These must be worth a fortune!"
We approached cautiously, as if the vision before us might disappear. The craftsmanship was stunning. I reached out to touch a carved wooden idol, marveling at the detail. "This is incredible," I said, my voice barely audible.
We began to load our packs with as many artifacts as we could carry, each one more exquisite than the last. It was beyond our wildest dreams. We were so engrossed in our task that we didn't notice the small figure watching us from the ridge.
It wasn't until I turned to leave that I saw her. A young girl, maybe eight years old, stood there, her blue eyes wide with curiosity. She was dressed in simple, rustic clothing, her blonde straight hair blowing gently in the wind. For a moment, we just stared at each other.
"Noah," I whispered urgently, nudging him. "Look."
He turned, his eyes following my gaze. "What the...?" he muttered, his voice trailing off.
The girl took a tentative step forward, her eyes fixed on the items in our hands. There was no fear in her gaze, only a quiet intensity that made my skin crawl.
"Who are you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
She tilted her head slightly. "My name is Sigyn."
"What are you doing out here, Sigyn?" Noah asked, his voice shaky.
"I live here,"
"You live here?" I echoed, incredulous. "Is there anyone else around?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"Where?" Noah demanded, looking around nervously.
"Everywhere," she said with a giggle.
The way she said it, so matter-of-factly, bothered me deeply. Noah and I exchanged a look, both of us trying to figure out what to do next.
"We can't take her back to the ranger," Noah started, "We'll lose everything."
I nodded, my mind racing. "Sigyn," I said slowly, "we need to know who else is here. Can you help us?"
She looked at me with her piercing blue eyes, then said, "I'm sorry."
"For what?" Noah asked.
"For what's going to happen to you," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness.
"You need to tell us what's going on," Noah said, grabbing her arm roughly. "Why are you out here alone?"
She looked up at him, unperturbed. "I am not alone," she said softly.
Before we could press her further, a loud, guttural mooing sound echoed through the clearing. We turned towards the direction the girl had come from, and there, emerging from the shadows, was the silhouette of an elk. As it approached, my stomach dropped. Its body was a grotesque amalgamation of life and decay. Its skull was fully exposed, the eye sockets dark and empty. Large patches of its ribs were visible, the flesh around them rotted away.
The elk's movements were slow and deliberate, its head swaying as if in a trance. It walked directly towards us, its hollow eyes fixed on Sigyn. The closer it got, the more the stench of death filled the air—a nauseating mix of decay and earth. I fought the urge to retch.
Sigyn stood up, her expression calm. The monster sniffed her gently, its nostrils flaring. Without a word, she climbed onto its back, mounting it like a horse. It was a surreal and horrifying scene ripped straight from a nightmare.
As she settled onto the elk, she looked back at us, "A thief in the night shall reap what he sows," she said, her voice carrying an otherworldly echo. "Beware the price of stolen dreams."
With that, the beast turned and began to walk away, Sigyn riding it into the shadows of the forest. We stood there, frozen in place. The realization that we were in far over our heads began to sink in. This started to feel like a trap.
We need to get out of here," My voice trembling. "Now."
We turned to leave, our packs heavy with the pilfered goods. But as we took our first steps, the forest around us seemed to come alive. Shadows moved among the trees, and whispers floated on the wind. I quickened my pace, glancing nervously over my shoulder.
"Did you hear that?" Noah asked sharply,
"Just keep moving," I commanded.
A figure emerged from the shadows, blocking our path. It was a man, tall and gaunt, his eyes burning with an intense light. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked, his voice cold and menacing.
"We're leaving," I stammered. "We didn't mean any harm."
The man smirked, and with a swift motion, he raised his hand. More figures appeared, closing in on us from all sides. We were surrounded.
"Run!" I shouted, shoving Noah forward.
We sprinted through the forest, branches whipping at our faces and legs. The figures pursued us, their footsteps silent and relentless.
Noah stumbled and fell, his pack spilling open. Statues scattered across the ground, glinting in the moonlight. "Help!" he cried, scrambling to gather the items.
"Leave them!" I shouted, pulling him to his feet. "We have to keep moving!"
But it was too late, their hands seizing us. I struggled, kicking and thrashing, but their grips were too strong. They forced us to the ground, binding our hands with rough, coarse ropes.
"Please," I begged, "Don't hurt us."
The man who had first appeared stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "A thief in the night," he mocked.
They dragged us through the forest, the trees closing in around us like a cage. We were at their mercy.
In the distance, I could see the elk standing at the edge of the clearing, Sigyn still astride its back. Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of pity. But then they turned away, disappearing into the shadows once more.
We were dragged into the heart of the forest, our struggles futile against the unyielding grip of our captors. As we broke through the treeline, a massive bonfire came into view, its flames licking the night sky. Shadows danced around the clearing, cast by the flickering light. A woman stood at the forefront, her presence commanding.
Her eyes were milk white, devoid of pupils, and her long, flowing white hair cascaded down her back. She was completely naked, her skin pale and marked with intricate symbols. Atop her head, she wore an elk skull, its antlers extending like eerie, skeletal fingers. She beat a drum emblazoned with more of the same cryptic symbols, each thud resonating deep within my chest.
Around the fire, about two dozen people stood, all drinking from crude, horned cups. Their faces were solemn, eyes fixed on the woman as she led them in a haunting chant. The atmosphere was thick with a mix of reverence and intoxication.
We were forced to our knees before the woman, who paused her drumming to look down at us. Her gaze was haunting, as if she could see into the very depths of our souls.
"Who are you?" Noah demanded, his voice trembling.
The woman ignored him, raising her arms to the sky. The chanting grew louder, the rhythm of the drum faster and more frenzied. The air around us seemed to vibrate with energy, the flames of the bonfire growing higher and more intense.
I glanced at Noah, fear mirrored in his eyes. The woman began to speak, her voice low and melodic, but filled with power, in a language I couldn't understand. Suddenly, she stopped, lowering her arms. The chanting ceased, and an silence fell over the clearing. She looked directly at me, her white eyes unblinking.
En tjuv i natten skördar vad han sår, akta dig för drömmar som du stjäl och får.
Hans skratt bevakar lundens gömda stig, där skuggor sveper över skogens liv.
För varje stulet andetag och svek, måste en tjuv möta sitt smärtsamma ödelek.
Tricksterns vilja, vår ande här, så i hans nåd, våra liv bär.
I was terrified and confused. She started again, softer, in a way I could understand.
A thief in the night shall reap what he sows, beware the price of stolen dreams.
His laughter guards our hidden groves, where shadows cloak the forest's seams.
For every stolen breath and lie, a thief must meet his painful end.
The tricksters will, our spirits tie, so in his grace, our lives suspend.
The crowd surged forward, grabbing Noah first. He screamed, his terror echoing through the trees as they pulled him towards a makeshift altar beside the bonfire. The woman chanted louder, her voice rising in a hypnotic rhythm as they began their gruesome work.
They stripped him of his shirt and bound his arms to a wooden frame. I tried to move, to help him, but the grip on my shoulders tightened, pinning me to the ground.
The woman approached Noah, holding a knife with a blade that gleamed in the firelight. She started to slice into his back, her movements deliberate and unhurried. Noah's screams pierced the night as she methodically carved the shape of wings into his flesh.
Blood poured from the wounds, soaking the ground beneath him. The crowd's chant grew louder, almost drowning out his cries. I watched in horror as the woman reached into the incisions, breaking the ribs and pulling them outward, creating a parody of wings.
Noah's agony was unbearable to witness. His screams turned to whimpers, his body convulsing in pain. The woman didn't stop until the work was complete, his lungs exposed and hanging grotesquely from his back.
They lifted Noah's broken body and placed him over the fire. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, making me gag. His life ebbed away as the flames consumed him, the once vibrant light in his eyes fading to nothing.
The woman turned to me, her expression devoid of mercy. "You will meet the same fate," she said, "He demands it."
The smell of burning flesh and the sight of his broken body over the fire was seared into my mind. Despair settled over me as I closed my eyes.
A deafening blast shattered the night. My eyes flew open to see the shaman stumbling backward, a gaping wound in her chest. She collapsed to the ground, her white eyes staring lifelessly into the void.
The villagers turned in shock as another shot rang out, this time hitting one of the men holding me. I twisted free from their grasp and saw the park ranger standing at the edge of the clearing, a pump-action shotgun in his hands. He fired again, the sound echoing through the forest, before one of them tackled him to the ground.
"Run!" he shouted, his voice raw and desperate. "Get the hell out of here!"
I didn't need to be told twice. I sprinted into the darkness, the chaos of the clearing fading behind me. Branches whipped at my face, and the snow underfoot made every step a struggle. I could hear the sounds of fighting and gunshots, but I forced myself to keep moving.
The cold air burned in my lungs, but adrenaline pushed me forward. I didn't stop until I reached the station, my legs threatening to give out from under me. I burst through the door and slammed it behind me.
Inside, Carl lay where we had left him, his face pale and twisted in pain. I stumbled to the radio, my hands trembling as I fumbled with the controls.
"Mayday, mayday!" I yelled into the microphone. "This is an emergency! We need help! Please, someone, come quickly!"
Static filled the room, punctuated by my ragged breaths. I repeated the call, my voice growing more frantic with each passing second. Finally, a voice crackled through the speaker. "This is Ranger Station Bravo. What's your location? Over."
I could barely form the words. "Olympic National Park! The ranger station near mount Christie! We're under attack! Please, send help!"
"Copy that. Help is on the way. Stay put and stay safe. Over."
I collapsed to the floor, my body trembling with exhaustion and fear. Carl moaned softly, his eyes fluttering open. "What… What happened? Where's Noah?”
Tears streamed down my face and I found myself choked up. “He’s gone, man. Help is coming.”
The minutes stretched into an eternity as we waited. The wind howled around the station, and every creak and groan of the structure set my nerves on edge. I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched, that the forest itself was closing in on us.
The radio crackled again, this time with a different voice. "Helicopter en route, ETA fifteen minutes. Prepare for extraction."
I glanced at Carl, his eyes filled with confusion. "Hang on. We're getting out of here."
As the minutes ticked by, I couldn't help but think about the ranger. He had saved my life, but he hadn't made it back. My mind conjured up images of what might have happened to him, the cultists overwhelming him in the darkness. A sense of guilt gnawed at me, knowing he had sacrificed himself for us.
The sound of rotors cut through the night, growing louder as the helicopter approached. I ran to the window and saw its searchlight piercing the treetops, scanning for the station.
I helped Carl to his feet, supporting his weight as we made our way to the hatch. The helicopter hovered above, lowering a rescue basket. The wind from the rotors whipped the snow into a frenzy, but I didn't care. Salvation was finally here.
We secured Carl in the basket first, and I watched as he was hoisted up, disappearing into the safety of the helicopter. My turn was next. I realized that I was now alone and exposed. Fear coursing through me as I scanned around the edge of the forest, expecting to be grabbed and taken seconds before my rescue. But the moment never came. As I gripped the rope, I took one last look at the forest below. The flames of the bonfire still flickered in the distance.
I was lifted into the air, the ground falling away beneath me. The helicopter's crew pulled me inside, and I collapsed onto the floor still holding onto my pack, my body finally giving in to exhaustion. The doors closed, and the helicopter banked away, leaving the horrors of the park behind.
Weeks had passed since the harrowing events, but the memories clung to me like the bitter cold. I had returned to civilization, seeking solace in the familiar chaos of the city. I found a wealthy collector through a network of contacts. The artifacts fetched a price tenfold the cost of gear. The money was substantial, but as I held the cash, it felt like a hollow victory.
Noah's absence weighed heavily on me. His disappearance was chalked up as a missing persons case, and despite my best efforts to explain what had happened, no one believed me. The authorities conducted a search of the area, but they found no trace of the cult, the artifacts, or the clearing. It was as if the forest had swallowed up all the evidence.
I returned to the site where we had parked the truck. The dirt bikes were gone, stolen by opportunistic thieves, but the truck remained. I drove back in silence, the road winding through the dense forest. For a moment, I thought I saw the girl watching me from atop a ridge until I realized it was just paranoia. I stepped on the gas a little harder.
Back home, I checked the Tomb Raiders forum again. The post that had led us into the forest was gone, deleted without a trace. I messaged the mods, but apparently, they don’t keep records to maintain confidentiality. I wrote about our experience, detailing every terrifying moment, but the responses were skeptical at best. Most dismissed it as a work of fiction or a desperate cry for attention.
Time passed, and I tried to return to a semblance of normalcy. Yet, the wilderness called to me stronger than ever. It was my sanctuary, the only place where I could find peace amidst the turmoil. I spent more and more time outdoors than ever before, but now it always felt like I was just running from something.
Determined to prove what had happened, I returned to the forest with a camera and recording equipment. This time, I documented every step, capturing footage of the trees, the snow, and the eerie silence that hung in the air. I retraced our path, hoping to find the clearing again. But each night, as I reviewed the footage, something strange would happen. The files would be corrupted or entire segments missing.
I pressed on. I found the site where Noah had fallen, the ground still bearing faint traces of what had happened. I set up the camera and began to speak, recounting the events in detail. As I spoke, a cold wind swept through the clearing, and the camera's screen flickered. I finished my account and turned to check the recording, only to find the file corrupted once again, the footage replaced by static and a faint, mocking laughter.
I returned home, defeated and exhausted. My attempts to share what I had experienced were met with disbelief and ridicule. The files I managed to save were corrupted beyond recognition. It was as if the forest itself was conspiring against me.
Almost exactly one year later, as I browsed the forums, a new post caught my eye. It was cryptic, eerily similar to the one that had led us into the nightmare. It spoke of another trove of artifacts, hidden deep within the wilderness, waiting to be claimed.
The post was signed with a new name: Skygge. Different handle, same style. Another trap. They had taken so much from me, left scars that would never heal. I opened my drawer, my fingers brushing over the cold metal of my weapons. This was the moment I had been waiting for. This time, I'll be ready.
The forest’s secrets won't remain hidden forever.

when i was younger my family was happy, i guess. I was adopted by my grandparents officially when i was younger and i had been living with them my entire life. I grew up with sensory disorder and ADHD. My real mother wasn't really in my life until about 4 years ago. I never knew my real dad and i have never met him but i always knew my real mom. She used to live with me and my grandparents who i call 'mom and dad' because they took care of me most of my life. She always lived outside in an apartment my dad made for her. She then moved away. She moved a lot and never was really in my life completely. By the time I was adopted by my grandparents she was legally my sibling. She always was having boyfriends and brought some of them over for family holidays. I was bullied growing up since I was in first grade for no reason i knew about. All i knew was i was the school freak. When i was little i hardly ate much as well but i was still called 'fat'. Whenever i sung i was laughed at. I was actually good at singing and i loved to sing when I was little as well as dance. My legally sister (aka real mother) tells me now and days i was the bully growing up and i was sexual as a little kid when i wasn't. growing up i also had anger issues and nobody knew why. My mom (aka grandmother who adopted me) told me it because i was mad at my sister. my mental health started going downhill quickly when i was about starting middle the next year. i was getting bullied a lot more and my 'friend' was mean to me for no reason at all.i was at a christian private school at that time. I got blamed for put stick notes on other sticky notes in a prize container when i didn't. i was friends with everyone in that class. only one of them believed me. but when the others were told that i didnt do it they were acting sorry. one my best friend's at that time little brother had a crush on me. when i went to her house to hang out her brother was acting like a perve a little bit and was asking sexual stuff.i never liked school at all because the city and town i lived in didnt do crap when i was bullied and the principles were told. And around this time my sister came to live in the town i live right now.she gotten married. But she was toxic to everyone. Her husband's friends lived with them as roommates and my sister was abusive to them. when she was babysitting me during that time she would stab one of them in the arm with a medicine syringe you take medicine from.this kept going till that roommate left and then the next one was gone. my sister's husband had passed away when i was in middle school starting the first year of it. my sister was then toxic to me a lot. and since she was my real mom at one point i called her 'mom' all the time till she was toxic to me.she also always told me she couldnt have children. apparently, there was another before me and it was a miscarriage. i will mention this, my sister is known in my family to be a liar about everything from getting gifts for us, receiving it, not stealing, and most of the time children. About every 2 years she claims to be 'pregnant' with a kid but apparently, they all end up dying after they are born or are miscarriages. i was the only kid she had ever.and plus she always blamed me for stealing her stuff even her gun and hiding it under my bed at my mom's when i cant even put a phone under there cause the bed is really low to the ground. now onto my dad (my grandpa who adopted me with my grandma).me and my dad were really close when i was growing up.i was his little princess. That stopped happening after i came out as bisexual and genderfluid 4 years ago. And let me tell you my dad was born in the 50's so he grew up being raciest and homophobic. I was the only child he raised as his own. my sister was his stepdaughter and during that time her real dad never let my dad adopt her as his own.i kept telling my dad about things i liked that we loved together growing up. my dad was toxic to me in my middle school years up until now. He would verbally abuse me and threaten me. he even hit me before in front of my mom and she told the police that he never did. The police were called a lot cause of my anger and yelling. The police where i live never believe the kids about anything saying they dont have any rights like to clothes, a bed, sometimes to speak, to things they buy with their own money, and one even told me i didn't have a right to my own body.i was being bullied every more in school so i was getting depressed and mentally unstable. And my dad was always getting up in my face and i pushed him back sometimes to make sure he didn't hurt me and he just told me i 'assaulted' him and he was going to get me put in jail for defending myself as well a lot of the time. I had been to a mental hospital where i live 8 times. Some of them because i was mentally unstable, and 2 because i was forced for no reason. For my 3 or 5 time there my dad took me to the hospital to get 'diagnosed' but he lied.i had just gotten out of another mental hospital 2 days before for being depressed and i was there for 2 weeks so i needed to get adjusted to being out of there.and when we were at the hospital the doctor came in after talking to my dad and told me 'your being sent to *name of mental hospital i was at 8 times* for sewerslidal (not gonna say the actual word) thoughts'. and i was confused at first and i told him i was having those thoughts at all. and then he told me i was being sent there anyways and then left the room. Then my dad came in and said this directly at me, 'this is what happens when you dont go to school'. i was shocked and upset about this.he lied to the doctor and i was sent to that mental hospital again for it.i never forgave him for that.i was also sent to a behavior facility twice before. one for anger and the other for SH. neither times did it work.i was an SHing person a lot so i had different ways to hide it. like hoodies, long sleeve tee shirts finally, longer shorts, gloves, and short sleeved shirts that covered my shoulders. right now im in high school and i guess my dad is trying to rekindle our relationship because he is that old already. He is nicer now but about 2 months ago he was a jerk. my mom didnt listen to my feelings during these times so i never talked to her about feelings but when she wanted to and i tried to tell her she always interuppeted me and never let me talk and told me to shut up. my sister had moved in my dad's house recently because she bought it because he retired. my dad is planning on moving to my mom's place with me.and now here is an old relationship i need to talk about badly because my sister says i agreed to most of it when i didnt. it was my last year of middle school when it happened. i was already at a different school. I was still bullied but i could handled it a bit better there. my first boyfriend broke up with me 2 months after we got together and i was in 7th grade at that point when we broke up.i had just moved to that school about 2 months before we started dating.the reason he broke up with me was because 'he didnt feel love'.love is an emotion. you cant just not feel it right.i was touch starved and loved starved during that time so the summer after the broke up i was really mentally unstable and SH.i was taken to the mental hospital again. And when i came back to school after 2 months of being in the behavior facility for the second time so it was novemeber of my last year of middle school.about the end of November i was dating my guy best friend at that time.i didnt except what would happen after.he neglected me a lot when we saw each other at school during lunch even if we sat next to each other, was toxic and mad at me where i cried during that and wanted to feel pain, never stood up for me, never cared about how i felt or when i SH but pretended he did, and lastly he was obsessed with me during this time.threatening to hurt people. The first time i went to his house he got really touchy and then the second time he took that one thing a girl will never get back in her life no matter what.i was really desperate for love during that time but i didnt want to do that..he convinced me though. And then at school during lunch in the cafeteria while we were sitting with our friends at lunch he would touch me badly and threaten to do it more if i didnt eat or would do it anyway.i didnt eat much back then cause i was trying to lose weight, was having an eating disorder where i got sick every time i even at at least 2/4 of my meal. I didnt tell anyone this until last summer.i was still with him at the beginning of summer till my current boyfriend started talking to me on roblox after years of not talking because he moved while i was in 4th grade.he was a good friend. my current boyfriend told me what my ex was doing wrong at that time so i did the right thing and broke up with my ex.but my ex did scare me badly. He threatened to kill someone for me. i was terrified at that. He also had a spilt personality he would talk to me with a lot of the time. Then after a month of me breaking up with him my current boyfriend and me got together. He was a little toxic at first but he got better and was really nice to me. but we are in a long distance relationship. We talk a lot on discord and do video calls when we can.i was at 2 different public school this year.neither of them cared about what was happening to me so i started online school.i didnt go to either of them cause i was still bullied i couldnt handle it.and then when i started online school the teachers for that school accused me of not doing my work when i did them days in advance.i was doing really good but if i got most of the questions right on the quiz i still failed it.i would get 90% out of the question right and still get an f on the quiz.i started failing those classes and i was stressed with the video meetings cause there would be one right after another.i didnt get to pick my electives at all because the day i got the papers to see which ones i wanted they already picked them for me.and my dad was being a jerk the entire time as well as my sister so i was getting to a point of relaspe but didnt. im still kinda on that point but not that much.i dont go to therapy or a medication doctor anymore because the medication doctor kept telling me to lose weight when i was trying to, told my parents to send me to a children's home because i was not going to school because of the bullying and my regular doctor i had been seeing since i was a baby said the same because i was 'fakeing' being sick.i wasnt sick though but i was having an eating disorder still during that time to the point i was throwing up everything in my body every time i ate more than 6 bites of food.even the foods that were easy to eat i couldnt eat.and the reason i dont go to therapy is because all the ones i went to as a kid fired us for no reason and then a family counselor did the same thing because i was being rude.i was rude at all but i was pissed during that time cause i never got to talk and tell my side of the story and my family kept saying that raising my voice volume just a small bit was yelling and they still say that and my sister does the same with the voice volume but they dont say she is yelling when she is.if you guys have any of advice to help with any of this thank you.i have been wanting to vent for a long time but i didnt have a way to until now.

FYI, this is a story COLLECTION. Lots of standalones technically. So, you can basically start to read at any chapter, no pre-read of the other chapters needed technically (other than maybe getting better descriptions of characters than: Adam Vir=human, Krill=antlike alien, Sunny=tall alien, Conn=telepathic alien). The numbers are (mostly) only for organization of posts and continuity.
OC Written by Charlie Stastarrfallknightrise,
Typed up and then posted here by me.
Proofreading and language check for some chapters by u/Finbar9800 u/BakeGullible9975 u/Didnotseemecomein and u/medium_jock
Future Lore and fact check done by me.
*Starts to cry* I am so so happy! Isn’t that great? Finally some good news and great things to go forward!
Previous First [Next](link)
Want to find a specific one, see the whole list or check fanart?
Here is the link to the master-post.
Breaking News tonight from the Apollo 11 memorial landing site, as Admiral Adam Vir and Captains Warren Richards and Mary Chavez were rescued from the Pacific Ocean, following a journey that was supposed to be historical, turned harrowing. Amy Grey comes to us this morning with the story.
Thank you Julie, it was only a week ago here on the historic Cape Canaveral launch site, that the reconstructed Saturn V rocket was launched by the UNSC International Space and Aeronautics Division on the two thousand and fifty first anniversary of the original Apollo 11 mission. On board The reconstructed rocket were astronauts Fleet Admiral Adam Vir, head of the UNSC deep space exploration division, Captain Warren Richards five year veteran and historical aeronautics expert, and Mary Chavez, six year shuttle pilot veteran, and communications specialist.
The reconstructed Saturn V rocket took off thirty minutes behind schedule at 10:03 GMT July 16 after delays attributed to engineering standbys. However, reports by UNSC investigation early this morning indicate that the delays were called for by engineering head Jade Clein who noticed something strange during her final checks of the Saturn V recreated rocket.
In an interview early today, flight director, Aaliyah Seif of the Apollo re-creation mission informed outlets that there was evidence of attempted tampering on the hull of the Saturn V rocket. The tampering case in the shape of these small silver tape strips covering loosened bolts along one of the Saturn V side panels. Engineers stated that the tape was not heat resistant and would have burned off in time to rattle the bolts loose and, likely, cause a devastating spin that would destroy the rocket.
While this attempted tampering was thwarted, the mission would only become more dire. A sudden and shocking report by Mericanda News 5 showed an uncut image of an unknown alien hybrid woman claiming that the UN President had ordered the attempted assassination of Admiral Vir, in conjunction with an audio recording by Admiral Colter Massie, Head of the Galactic intelligence division and known isolationist, that admitted to the attempted assassination of Admiral Vir, and the acquisition of twenty Thunderhawk’s, which were used to harry the Saturn V on its way to the moon. Admiral Kelly, longtime friend of Admiral Vir, corroborated the story, saying she caught General Massie just after he ordered the deployment of the twenty Thunderhawk’s. During their conversion, he attempted to kill her, before being detained by two members of Admiral Vir's crew, and was later seen being escorted into custody by Military Police.
Indeed, footage has been captured from the hull of the Saturn V, showing approximately twenty Thunderhawk’s attempting to destroy the rocket while Rundi remote piloted drones and an unknown group of what appear to be racing jets, fought back to delay the attack, while word was sent to the UNSC to deploy F-90 Darkfire pilots to assist. This all after communications between Houston and the rocket were sabotaged shortly after leaving orbit. The F-90 Darkfire pilots were able to arrive on time to rescue the rocket, though a hole was reportedly torn in the hull, sucking Admiral Vir out into space. Luckily, he was later recovered and returned to his ship without any injuries. Patch teams were then able to repair the torn hull and the astronauts completed their mission landing to crowds on the moon and returning to earth on time, landing in the Pacific Ocean only nine miles away from the waiting ship.
All three astronauts were recovered and are reported to be in good health.
The investigation into the UN president's involvement is still ongoing at this time, however preliminary reports from the Global Bureau of Investigation suggest evidence is both staggering and damning to the current UN president, who earlier today, attempted to cut all ties to the sabotage efforts, saying she was framed. Political experts report that, even assuming her innocence, she will likely not last to the end of her term.
International News Network was able to interview Admiral Vir shortly after his landing while still on board the rescuing ship UNSS Victory.
Here is what the Admiral had to say:
"I find it... Really very disheartening that someone we all trusted, and someone that we all should have looked up to could do something like this. It really is a heinous demonstration of what political corruption can lead people to do."
"And how do you feel, personally about all of this?"
"Personally, I... well to be honest I am hurt and appalled. Not to mention that I fear for the safety of my family and my friends. Every day I wonder if my involvement with them is going to get someone I love killed... The thought haunts me, but I hope after all of this is over I... and all of us can breathe a little easier."
"Were you scared?"
"I don't think that even needs to be a question. Of course I was scared, getting sucked out of your spaceship isn't ideal."
"What do you hope will happen now?"
"I hope that justice can be upheld to those who deserve it."
"What do you have to say to the UN president."
”...”
”So?”
"I have nothing to say. Wouldn't want to waste the air.”
[…]
What followed would be one of the largest scandals in recent political history. At some point an unknown number of classified government documents was leaked onto the internet, and after that it was all over for the Presidency. Thousands of enterprising humans, and aliens alike, viewed the documents to discover all the underhanded and dirty things which had been going on in the UN governmental body over the past few years. Forensic accounting experts (mostly Tesraki), uncovered plenty of fiscal tampering which shed light on plenty of isolationist related projects and bank accounts. There was even evidence that they had something to do with the original assassination attempt against Admiral Vir so many months ago. The drama had even managed to capture the attention of Rundi political experts and Vrul computer science geniuses, and together they unearthed a world of unfathomable, but not unexpected corruption. The process to remove the UN president from office was probably one of the fastest movements of human government ever seen by UN congressional leaders, who were likely trying their very best to distance themselves from association with the president, who despite not being the only one involved, had become the political scapegoat for everyone else that had a supposed link with isolationism.
Even the VP fell under suspicion and was watched closely for the rest of his term.
Admiral Massie and the UN President were placed under arrest and set up for court dates in the nearing future, though everyone saw a long and arduous litigation process ahead. Even Ramirez's family had filed for damages against the government after the news came to light, confirming that their son had been shot as collateral in one of the UN presidents plans to assassinate Admiral Vir. They settled out of court to the tune of an unknown, but impressive sum of money.
No one really knew how much, but a couple months later Ramirez's younger sister was seen training at one of the most prestigious Olympic academies on earth.
Ramirez himself was suddenly able to afford housing on the moon in a condo just next door to his best friend, though no one else inquired further.
The Rundi chairwoman came forward with her own investigation, admitting to being suspicious for a long time though she feared accusations without proper proof. Admiral Vir was seen having lunch with her not so many months after the events took place, suggesting that the trust between the two of them had not been completely dissolved. With much of the isolationist element gone from government, public policy began to lean heavily towards integration with the alliance. The occasional isolationist demonstration or protest was held, but none of them managed to gain traction.
Admiral Vir was finding himself more important than ever, though it was to his chagrin that his ship was grounded for the intervening months while the investigation continued.
No one was entirely sure what the future held.
[…]
Admiral Vir stepped into Admiral Kelly's office. The last time he had actually visited her here had been over a few years ago, before his promotion to captain of the Harbinger. It seemed so distant now, and he never expected to walk into her office with a star on his shoulder. She stood as he entered, and the two of them shook hands, ignoring all the stuffy formalities that usually come with the meeting of two military officers.
The wall behind her was decorated with a myriad of metals and awards she had received over her career, and he couldn't help but note the slight tinge of grey he could see forming in her hair. He knew that feeling, he was going prematurely white much to his chagrin. She stood and the two of them shook hands.
"Vir."
"Kelly."
She motioned him to sit, and he sat, sighing lightly as he had been on his feet all day consulting with political figures and other members of the UNSC.
"A strange couple months wouldn't you say?”
"Tell me about it."
Kelly reached under her desk and withdrew an amber bottle which she placed between them,
"I always forget; do you drink?"
"On occasion."
"Well consider this an occasion."
She said, popping off the top and pouring two glasses for them. She handed his across the desk and he leaned back in his seat cupping the cool glass in both hands.
She swirled the amber liquid around in her glass,
"So what are your plans after all this?”
He took a sip of water warmed by the burning liquid,
"Hoping things will go back to normal and I can go back to traveling the galaxy."
Kelly grunted,
"A simple man with simple motivations."
He laughed,
"Sometimes I think a stupid man with simple motivations."
She chuckled then grew serious,
"A lot of people make the mistake of assuming simple people don't have the intelligence to match. Some people assume that trusting means gullible means dumb. Just because we are trusting and expect others to do the right thing is not necessarily a fault. I believe there is a kind of beauty in assuming the fundamental goodness of humanity."
Admiral Vir shook his head,
"How can you after seeing what we have seen?”
"How can you not?"
She shrugged,
"We always knew that politicians were corrupt, but think about everything else we have seen."
Admiral Vir nodded slowly,
"The enthusiasm for the Apollo 11 recreation mission, the people who flew up to help us. All of those people who went digging through years of information just to uncover the truth."
She raised her glass,
"Precisely. Goodness in humanity is all around us, but we tend to overlook the good in favor of the bad."
She placed her hat on the desk and sighed,
"It is up to good people to keep their goodness going even when it might seem easier to give into the bad. I have and will always believe in the fundamental good of humanity. Some may call it naive, or even stupid. Others have said I have a romanticized view of a species that is fundamentally broken."
She turned her head to look out the window, a contemplative expression on her face before turning back to look at Adam.
"You understand me, I think."
He nodded slowly.
"People need to be believed in. You tell someone for long enough that they are fundamentally bad at their core and they will begin to believe you. For thousands of years pessimists have gotten it into our heads that we are no better than animals, worse even since animals don't fight in wars. But I believe that is wrong, I have seen people, I have met people, and I have interacted with people who prove to me that humanity cannot just be fundamentally bad or else these people wouldn't exist."
She tapped her nails against the glass,
"I think it is easier to corrupt purity than wash away a stain."
He listened quietly as she continued.
"Humans are born good, Adam, and life stains us. We aren't born stained while some of us are wiped clean."
She shook her head,
"Doesn't make sense to me."
She caught him with a look, pinning him to the spot with her intense stare,
"People like you convince me of this every day."
"Me!?..."
She held up a hand.
"Adam Vir, I am convinced that the best outcome this universe ever had, was when a happy go lucky science fiction freak was lucky enough to be the first man to meet aliens. Any other way things would have gone horribly wrong."
She leaned across her desk,
"The universe needs men and women like you, and not only that but the universe needs people who are going to support men and women like you."
She sat back,
"Which is why I have made a decision…"
He raised an eyebrow in curiosity, not entirely sure where this could be going.
She smiled,
"I have decided to run for UN President."
He nearly spit his mouthful of expensive scotch onto the table, but managed to choke it mostly down.
Eyes wide he set his glass down,
"Are you serious?”
She smiled,
"Seriously serious."
"Well shit, you have my vote for sure."
He raised his glass to her,
"I couldn't think of a better outcome."
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Want to find a specific one, see the whole list or check fanart?
Here is the link to the master-post.
Intro post by me
OC-whole collection
Patreon of the author
Thanks for reading! As you saw in the title, this is a cross posted story written by starrfallknightrise and I'll just upload some of it here for you guys, if you are interested and want to read ahead, the original story-collection can be found on tumblr or wattpad to read for free. (link above this text under "OC:..." ) It is the Empyrean Iris story collection by starfallknightrise. Also, if you want to know more about the story collection i made an intro post about it, so feel free to check that out to see what other great characters to look forward to! (Link also above this text). I have no affiliations to the author; just thought I’d share some of the great stories you might enjoy a lot!
Obviously, I have Charlie’s permission to post this and for the people already knowing the stories, or starting to read them: If you follow the link and check out the story you will see some differences. I made some small (non-artistic) changes, mainly correcting writing mistakes, pronoun correction and some small additional info here and there of things which were not thought of/forgotten or even were added/changed in later stories (like the “USS->UNSC” prefix of Stabby, Chalar=/->Sunny etc). As well as some "biggemajor" changes in descriptions and info’s for the same stringency/continuity reason. That can be explained by the story collection being, well a story collection at the start with many standalone-stories just starring the same people, but later on it gets more to a stringent storyline with backstories and throwbacks. (For example Adam Vir has some HEAVY scars over his body, following his bones, which were not really talked about up till half the collection, where it says it covers his whole body and you find out via backflash that he had them the whole time and how he got them, they just weren't mentioned before. However, I would think a doctor would at least see these scars before that, especially since he gets analyzed, treated and goes shirtless/in T-shirts in some stories). So TLDR: Writing and some descriptions are slightly changed, with full OK from the author, since he himself did not bother to correct these things before.

Hi everyone, I’m using a throwaway for this because I don’t want this attached to my main account. I hope this isn’t too blog-y or anything for this sub, I’ve just really needed to get all of this off my chest and I’ve been thinking about it a lot over the past few days. I also hope it can be a warning for anyone who sees it and has gone too far into the online system community.
This is a fucking novel and I apologize in advance. I just have a lot I want to get off my chest, and I also hope that it could potentially be educational to anyone in the system community hate-reading this sub.
Quick warning for brief mentions of suicidal ideation and self harm.
I’m 23 (turning 24) this year, and I started to believe I had DID in 2019, when I was 18 (about a month or so away from turning 19). I had just started college. For context, writing has been my main hobby ever since early childhood, and I was also into roleplaying my original characters. I was EXTREMELY connected to my characters, I basically thought about them all the time. I spent the majority of my free time developing them, thinking about them, and writing or roleplaying. I even wrote and roleplayed during high school in the middle of class.
I started to believe I had DID whenever I talked to someone else about it and started to feel like my connection to my characters was abnormal. My main thought process was that I was so attached to them that it actually affected how I behaved. For example, if I was fixated on a certain character, I would find myself acting more like them or dressing more like them. I also started to over-analyze past behavior; the main thing that came to mind were the times when I was 14 and I would “talk” to my characters in my head, and there was also a particular instance where my handwriting would change to look more like how I imagined a certain character’s handwriting.
I also started to overthink because I had both childhood trauma and (then-recent) trauma from my teenage years, and during those events, I always used writing and roleplaying to cope. I was already prone to dissociation and had an extremely overactive imagination.
Within a day or so of starting to think I had DID, I “switched.” Basically one of my characters “fronted” for a little over an hour, and then I came-to with barely any memory of that past hour. Of course, prior to thinking I had DID, I never had any large memory gaps or loss of memory that caused me or anyone else any type of concern. The only things I ever struggled to remember were things related to my trauma, which is normal (to my knowledge anyways).
So after this I became pretty convinced I had DID, and then I discovered DissociaDID within a few days of this. I thought she was a legitimate source of information and an accurate portrayal of DID, because before her, the only other portrayals of DID that I saw were either horror movie shit or very extreme cases. I saw myself a lot in her because she was around my age, queer (like me), and a little alternative in her presentation. So I binged her videos and this only further fed into my delusion.
This was all within the span of a week. I had therapy on that Friday so I talked to my therapist about it. I’d also like to note that my therapist had been seeing me pretty consistently since I was 12, and had never caught on to anything that could signal that I had DID. When I told him about everything I was experiencing, we looked at the DSM entry for it together, and he basically told me that he couldn’t diagnose me and he had no experience treating DID, but if I was experiencing everything that I said I was experiencing, I should try to find a specialist or a psychiatrist. He gave me a few numbers but I was too scared to contact them. I also never brought up DID or my “alters” again with him because I was too embarrassed to, even though I continued to see him for the next year or so.
I also got more involved with the system community, specifically on tumblr. I didn’t use tiktok and I tried to keep my more personal accounts like instagram separate from what I was going through because I didn’t want my family to find out. The next few months were really turbulent and I went through a lot of “splitting” (aka making new roleplay characters and then becoming convinced they were actually alters making themselves known to me), and at one point, I stopped the medication I was taking for my anxiety and OCD because it was making me gain weight.
I’m bringing up my OCD because I believe it was relevant in the DID symptoms I was experiencing. My doctor and my therapist both agreed that I had OCD, and my doctor prescribed me seroquel to treat it. If you don’t know, seroquel is an antipsychotic. I started it a few months prior to the whole DID shit. I think my OCD is relevant because I have a history of intrusive thoughts, especially with anything causing me stress, and I think the instances of my “alters” talking to me were really just intrusive thoughts related to my OCD. Even now, I got an intrusive thought in a different voice that said “why don’t you believe I’m real?”.
Anyways, I quit taking seroquel and my mental health got terrible, and I ended up dropping out of college a few months into my very first semester, which was a decision exacerbated by the fact that I was convinced I had DID. This was towards the end of 2019, and then ofc 2020 happened. I spent the vast majority of 2020 completely isolated except for my immediate family, like a lot of people, and I didn’t have a job or school, so I was just locked inside on the internet all the time and further fueling my DID delusion. Ironically though, I stopped going on system tumblr at all, and around mid-2020 I discovered the DIDcringe sub. Which is pretty fucking hilarious because I was a little active on there for a few weeks or so, and I HATED system tiktok, I hated the endo shit, I was just shitting on these people because I thought I was better. I considered myself “medically recognized” and better than everyone in those tiktoks because I didn’t have fictives from anything outside of my own characters, I didn’t cosplay, and for what it’s worth I actually did research DID and was distressed by my symptoms. So I thought this made me genuine and different from the tiktok and tumblr fakers. I was really disgusted by the impact of the DID trend and even tried to make a tiktok account dedicated to spreading accurate information about DID, which again is fucking hilarious because I was neck deep in the delusion myself, but I ended up deleting the account before I even made my first video because I got paranoid about my family finding it.
I ended up going back to college in the fall, which ofc was all online because of the pandemic, and around that time I also tried to reach out and join some system discord servers that didn’t allow endos. Even the anti-endo ones were full of the kind of shit you see on this sub, and in both of the ones I joined, I was one of the older members even though I was only 20 at this point. So I left both of them because they were both terrible. Then some more shit happened, my mental health got terrible again, I dropped out of college again, my DID delusion kept getting worse but now I had a superiority complex about it because I thought that I was better than the teenagers with 500 MCYT fictives.
2021 rolled around and my mental health was all over the place, I got a job, I planned on going back to college but I was in a shitty situation with therapy and I was getting worse and worse. Basically, I stopped seeing my old therapist (at his recommendation) because I wanted to try a different EMDR therapist. I started going to the different clinic, but they were worried about giving me EMDR because I told them about the DID symptoms and they had no experience with treating someone with DID. I stayed in regular therapy but I barely saw my therapist, and they ended up discharging me because I missed too many appointments due to the fact that they were online and my connection was usually shitty. So I had no therapy and I was getting worse until I almost attempted suicide in May 2021 and ended up in the ER. Part of the reason why I was in such a bad state was because I felt so alone and scared about what I thought was DID, and I was terrified of never being able to have a normal life.
After the ER, I ended up being able to go to an intensive outpatient group therapy program, which helped me a lot, but again I never talked about DID in group therapy because I was too embarrassed. I told my new psychiatrist about what I was experiencing, and he diagnosed me with PTSD, but he didn’t diagnose me with DID because he wasn’t sure if I had it. This didn’t deter me though because I was two years deep into the delusion that I had it, that I knew my own brain better than doctors, that nothing else could explain my symptoms. And I also thought that he couldn’t diagnose me after one brief visit anyways, so I continued to think I had DID.
I ended up going back to college that fall, and I did really well. Around 2022 I started to get involved with the more “scientific” side of system tumblr and followed a lot of anti-endo blogs. At one point I even made a syscourse blog and got kind of hyperfixated on it which was extremely bad for my mental health. I read a lot of papers about DID and even tried to read a book about it (First Person Plural) but my attention span was just all over the place and I couldn’t focus on it. But I considered myself relatively well-informed about DID, which makes this all even more embarrassing to me, because I couldn’t see my own bullshit.
The worst was when I started delving into RAMCOA uncritically, and due to the way the community talks about it, I started to become scared that I experienced something RAMCOA-adjacent and couldn’t remember. Specifically, I became fixated on this memory of going to my grandma’s church when I was three, and I couldn’t remember what I ended up doing during bible school, so I became convinced something bad could have happened. I had dread surrounding the memory, which I took as a sign that something bad happened, even though the dread was probably just from all the conspiracy theory shit I was reading about children being ritualistically tortured.
There’s not really a climatic end to all of this. I just stopped “switching” more and more, stopped hearing alters, and even when I did think I switched, I wasn’t fully disconnected from myself and still had most if not all of my memories of the switch. I noticed more and more that, during switches, my alters never acted completely independently of me, even if I was convinced I was someone else. For example, my fight or flight response is typically fawning, and during fights, my supposed alters (even the “angry” or assertive ones) would always fawn and act like me when I was panicked. I chalked it all up to me being “co-conscious” and “bleeding through.” But I could never do something completely different from what I would normally do, like yell at people or start fights or physically self harm.
My long term boyfriend and I broke up in 2023 and I also fell out of a friendship in 2023, which were both really stressful and upsetting events for me, but I started to think I didn’t have DID around this time because, if I was going through something this stressful and basically felt awful in every aspect of my life, wouldn’t I be splitting or at the very least switching more? But I wasn’t at all, if anything all of my symptoms started to go away even more. I stopped thinking about it and it all just kind of stopped in general.
I think there was a combination of things happening that made me convinced I had DID. I already had PTSD and dissociative tendencies, so that didn’t help at all. I’ve had dissociative episodes so bad that I couldn’t move. I have other mental illnesses that could explain the intrusive thoughts that I thought were alters. I have both body dysmorphia and gender dysphoria, as well as generally just a lot of self-loathing and hating myself, which fueled my desire to be literally anyone other than myself. I have an extremely vivid imagination and let my anxiety get carried away a lot. I also think I was just young.
So that’s how I lost five years of my life to thinking that I had a severe mental illness that I almost definitely don’t actually have. It’s had a very negative impact on my life. It made me isolate myself from my family and friends, the stress from it made me drop out of college twice. It made me suicidal. I don’t drive because, when I had time to start working on learning how to drive and getting my license, I was terrified I would switch behind the wheel and get into an accident, so now I’m nearing 24 and I can’t drive. It made me delay getting testosterone for my gender dysphoria because I thought that my dysphoria could be linked to just having alters of different genders, so I shouldn’t have transitioned because it could have been DID-related. It made me scared to write and roleplay because I thought I would end up developing introjects of more of my characters. It made me dissociate more heavily and actively indulge in dissociating and triggering myself because I thought it made me more “valid.” It also just made me so disconnected from myself that I barely even knew who I was for five years, I was just a shell of who I used to be and fucking miserable, while actively forcing myself to be other people to cope with the fact I hated myself. Which is ofc the worst way to cope with hating yourself.
I’m just so embarrassed now because I genuinely thought I was better than this and that I was above all of the people misinformed about DID. I even considered myself relatively well-educated on it. I guess that just shows that we can convince ourselves of wild shit. I wish I didn’t spend five years of my life actively making my mental illnesses so much worse, and I wish I didn’t fall into a community that not only enabled but encouraged it.
Thank you for reading all of this and I’m sorry this was so long.

Recovery from BDD might sometimes feel like a distant goal that seems, at times, impossible to achieve. But many people recover from BDD or learn to reduce the symptoms to the point where they don't play a role in their everyday life. Remember that a mental disorder is not a life long sentence but rather something that can be managed and recovered from.
Here we have collected a set of stories and advice on what recovery looks like and how others have gotten there.
Watch personal stories

• Tips for Overcoming Body Image Issues Kim White
• My BDD Recovery Annie Elainey
• Finding body peace Annie Elainey
• Healing Ugly – How I healed my body dysmorphia helloamygarner
• How I Deal With BDD, tips for when you're having a rough time AlexandriaTheGreat
• BDD (& Things That Can Help) Melanie Murphy
• Hannah Lewis, recovery story BDD foundation
• Alex Mummery, recovery story BDD foundation

Read personal stories

• Recovery stories BDDFoundation
• How I recovered from BDD International OCD Foundation

Professional advice

• CBT for BDD - Rob Willson / BDDFoundation
• Coping and Recovering from BDD when you have Visible Flaws - Dr Rob Willson

Healthier perspective

• On feeling ugly School of Life
• Our Bodies are Not an Image Mary Jelkovsky, TEDx
• Beauty and how we're obsessed with the wrong idea Christina Gressianu / TEDx
• Body Positivity or Body Obsession? Lindsay Kite, TEDx
• Shake my beauty - a series redefining what beauty means

Looking to see what your experience was with a CFI. If one parent travels biweekly did they consider that? (Young kids- early elementary and not yet school aged) How about things like school/daycare drop off and pick up, going to extracurricular events (like swim lessons), if one parent had a secret second life/name/phone and enjoys having sex with strangers do they consider it as it demonstrates the past pattern of involvement hasn’t been high/focus isn’t on kids?
What does a CFI investigation look like? How do they determine who to interview?
Lawyer wants a PRE but unfortunately that may be financially out of reach so just curious what your experience is with a CFI

"New Type of English Hard Porcelain" was reportedly developed at the Central School of Science and Technology in Stoke-on-Trent. Can you provide more information about the specific type of porcelain mentioned in the article, and whether it had any lasting technological impact?
Article: NEW type of hard porcelain that possess two important advantages has been evolved through researches undertaken by the Central School of Science and Technology in Stoke-on-Trent. The experimenters sought to produce a hard porcelain made wholly of British materials and to compound a body that would “pot” like ordinary earthenware. Specimens of ware exhibited show that both these objects have been accomplished.
The body of the new porcelain is as cheap as or cheaper than ordinary earthenware. The glaze (leadless) is about one-tenth the price of earthenware glaze. Particular satisfaction is expressed with the glaze, which, when fired under suitable conditions, seems equal to anything yet marketed. The firing margin is very large. The oven which was built for experiments—an entirely new type—has proved a great success, and there is no reason why a development of this oven might not be used in the production of ordinary earthenware.
Little difficulty was anticipated with the fire clays, since it was known that there are many suitable fire clays in the country. The saggers used have stood remarkably well, in fact, not more than two or three saggers were lost in over 20 firings to temperatures ranging from Cone No. 10 to Cone No. 16.
The ware produced is capable of being successfully decorated with ordinary colors. People acquainted with hard porcelain know that this is not possible with some types. A great defect attaching to the Continental hard porcelain is the limitation of the colors that can be applied.
The firing of the new porcelain is the point that will be regarded most seriously by the manufacturer contemplating its production. The new ware can be fired in either “oxidizing” or “reducing” atmospheres, but the best results are obtained by the “reducing" method, which will involve important modifications in the firing practice now obtaining.
Many interesting problems in connection with the firing have arisen and much work has yet to be done. At present the experimenters are concentrating on faults in manufacture, so that the more probable sources of difficulties and losses will be known. The examination of these is necessarily slow, as it is not possible to fire oftener than once a week if they are to fire under ordinary manufacturing conditions.

I’m sure you all know where I’m going with this but, where I live, there just are not enough doctors and surgeons that are BIPOC and it makes me feel unsafe a lot of the time. Not because I have an issue with white folks. I have had great doctors before, but some haven’t been the greatest at all and have gave me a lasting bad impression on them as a whole in the health field.
Like for example, I had a white male doctor who seemed truly amazing! He was well educated and was great at explaining things, answering questions and giving recommendations for the betterment of my health. Unfortunately, what ruined it was that he prescribed me Metformin (a diabetes medication) when I didn’t meet all of the criteria for diabetes or even pre diabetes and that bothered me. It wasn’t until he left the network and I had to see another doctor so I saw a black female doctor who ended up asking why I was on Metformin if my A1C and Glucose are fine. I said, “because of my BMI, I may be at risk and he wanted to get on top of it before anything occurs” (this is not normal procedures). She said, “Oh, well that’s great that you have a doctor that cares about the future of your health.” I was baffled.
Another example, I went to see an OBGYN for a scratch that I made between one of my inner and outer labia while I was sleep. I’ve done this before and normally I ignore it because it goes away but there were so many other things going on with my body at the time and I got anxious and decided to get it checked out this time around. She was great! We had a great chat about my situation and it felt so smooth! I felt so comfortable and heard and understood. It was the same way I felt with the white male primary doctor from my story above, but of course I didn’t think anything bad of it. I started to trust her….. ugh, MISTAKE. Anyway, she grabs a swab to press into the scratch, no problem. Then she says she needs to do another swab into my vagina to get a full vaginal analysis. She proceeds to swab, mind you she’s supposed to be inside my vagina… this bitch puts the swab into my urethra giving me the most excruciating pain I’d ever felt so far in my life. I swear to god I almost kicked her in her pale face…… I yelped, she said, “oh I’m sorry, I must’ve been too far into your urethra….” So bitch you knew where you was putting it and can acknowledge you went too far in but why was you there in the first place???
Ugh, telling this story has pissed me off all over again so I’m done talking now. This was like 2 months ago.