What is this?

This is a weekly crowdfunding roundup of new projects launched last week and projects that end the coming week.

Google Docs

As an alternative format, the lists are now also available as a Google Docs found here: Weekly Crowdfunding Roundup

Updates

Expect new lists every Sunday between 00:00 and 23:59 CEST on the following platforms:
Mastodon: @danielpervan@mastodon.social
Discord: https://discord.gg/dN4P4PZcU9
Reddit: /boardgames

Selection criteria

The criteria for the lists are as follows:

Ending soon

• Sorted by number of backers
  
• Kickstarter projects ending in the next 7 days, that have at least 100 backers (or marked as "Project we love" by Kickstarter), will have reached more than estimated 95% of their goal by their deadline and passed the filters:
  
  • No DnD books
  • No zines
  • No 3D printing
  • No dice sets
  • No magazines
  • No shirts
  • No playmats
  • No furniture
  • No events
• Gamefound projects ending in the next 7 days, that will have reached more than estimated 95% of their goal by their deadline and passed the above filters.
  
• (beta) Backerkit Crowdfunding projects ending in the next 7 days, that will have reached more than estimated 95% of their goal by their deadline and have a matching BGG page.
  

Newly launched

• Sorted by number of backers
  
• Kickstarter projects launched in the last 7 days, that have had at least average 15 backers per day, have at least 100 backers or is marked as "Project we love" by Kickstarter and passed the filters (see above).
  
• Gamefound projects launched in the last 7 days and passed the filters (see above).
  
• (beta) Backerkit Crowdfunding projects launched in the last 7 days and have a matching BGG page.
  

Notable filtered projects

• Filtered projects from above lists that have more than 1000 backers.

Tags

🎉: Staff pick/featured
💰: Funded
🔥: More than average 200 backers/day
🌱: Creator's first project
🌳: Creator's >5th project
🔄: Money back guarantee (Read more)

FAQ

I live in El SalvadoCanada/Colombia/USA, why are you posting on a Saturday?!
Because I'm writing this from Europe in the future where it's already Sunday. Timezones be crazy.
Why are there a bunch of non-board games in the board game list?
Because the Tabletop games category on Kickstarter includes anything remotely related to board games and sometimes things slip through my filters.
Why is this future award winning board game and literal saviour of humanity missing from your list?
Sometimes my filters get a bit overzealous and discard actually valid projects. If you feel something is missing for this reason, leave a comment and I'll add it (maybe).
Can I donate all my money to you?
No
Can you help me promote my game?
Please no. I make lists. Nothing more.
Your list is full of errors and now I cnat spel amymor!
Indeed, this fine piece of code runs purely on single malt whisky, so anything can happen. Leave a comment and I'll see what I can do.

Ending soon (29)

Name	Description	Backers	Pledged	Ends	Information	Tags	BGG
Rebirth: Limited Edition	A brand new, tile-laying game from Reiner Knizia, set in a lush and hopeful future.	5552	€265,854.00 (1329%) in 19 days	2024-06-12	💸 Kickstarter 👥 2‑4 players 👶 10+ ⏱️ 45-60 min.	🎉💰🔥🌳	BGG
Feudum	Game-of-the-year winner, Feudum is back with the 7th anniversary collector's edition featuring an exclusive clockwork behemoth! Grrrrrrrrrr.	2679	$354,257.05 (1417%) in 26 days	2024-06-14	💸 Gamefound 👥 1‑5 players ⏱️ 150 min. Area Control	💰🌱
Hex Effects: A Spellbinding Card Game	Hex Effects is a “take that” card game that involves beautiful artwork and easy-to-pick-up gameplay. From the makers of Side Effects!	1413	$55,457.00 (462%) in 24 days	2024-06-14	💸 Kickstarter 👥 2‑8 players 👶 10+ ⏱️ 20-40 min.	🎉💰	BGG
How to Save a World	Three desperate plans. One small chance... to save a world.	1216	CA$114,038.00 (190%) in 19 days	2024-06-13	💸 Kickstarter 👥 2‑4 players 👶 10+ ⏱️ 60-90 min.	🎉💰🌳	BGG
Village Pillage: Big Box + New Expansion	Magic makes its way to Village Pillage in the fourth and final expansion to the critically acclaimed game!	1090	$60,172.00 (301%) in 19 days	2024-06-15	💸 Kickstarter 👥 2‑5 players ⏱️ 15-30 min.	💰🌳	BGG
BERSERKERS : Chaos Extension by Alone Editions	Berserkers is Back !	972	€26,872.00 (413%) in 24 days	⚠️ 2024-06-09	💸 Kickstarter	💰🌳
Big Sur, Grand Central Skyport, Sand Art, & Wine Cellar	Mix and match your pledge from four new games across a variety of styles, themes, and player counts to elevate your next game night.	893	$42,936.00 (429%) in 12 days	2024-06-14	💸 Kickstarter	🎉💰🌳
🍁 Masters of Maple Syrup & Downstream 🛶	Manage a maple farm and explore the riverbank in these cozy, pocket-sized games for two!	835	CA$47,616.00 (595%) in 19 days	2024-06-10	💸 Kickstarter	💰
Greenlight	A game for people who will never make it in Hollywood.	829	$45,269.00 (453%) in 33 days	2024-06-10	💸 Kickstarter	💰🌱
Thorgal: The card game	Thorgal: Card Game, where strategy meets destiny in a thrilling card-based adventure	761	€40,864.00 (409%) in 19 days	2024-06-11	💸 Kickstarter 👥 2‑4 players 👶 14+ ⏱️ 45-90 min.	💰	BGG
The Big Bad Wolf	Based on The 3 Little Pigs! Secretly pass the "Big Bad Wolf" then Entice & Persuade players into flipping it, to Blow Down their house!	570	$12,768.00 (365%) in 26 days	2024-06-13	💸 Kickstarter 👥 2‑4 players 👶 10+ ⏱️ 15-35 min.	🎉💰🌱	BGG
Catstronauts: The Board Game	The cooperative boardgame based on the hit graphic novels!	492	$31,506.00 (630%) in 26 days	2024-06-14	💸 Kickstarter 👥 1‑4 players 👶 8+ ⏱️ 30 min.	💰🌳	BGG
TOOTHEAD	Let's Get Ready To Rumble!!! Sneaky moves and a lot of fighting in an innocent setting. A family-friendly game, also great for parties!	448	€29,744.00 (372%) in 33 days	2024-06-10	💸 Kickstarter 👥 2‑8 players 👶 10+ ⏱️ 40-180 min.	🎉💰🌱	BGG
Amsterdam Board Game Design - season 1	Three fun card games by different members of ABGD: Bable, Grachtenpand, & TimeZoo. May this be the first season of many!	419	€11,900.00 (397%) in 27 days	2024-06-13	💸 Kickstarter	💰🌱
Guns of the Old West	Players compete in solo/co-op play or as a team with over 100 campaign paths. Each playthrough is a unique cinematic experience offering endless replayability. Players make strategic decisions and interact with each other to achieve their group and secret individual objectives, some of which involve…	299	£53,400.50 (107%) in 26 days	2024-06-11	💸 Gamefound 👥 1‑8 players 👶 14+ ⏱️ 45-90 min. Card Game Wargame Dice Game Area Control Cooperative	💰🌱	BGG
DVG - Mustang Leader	The WWII Air War Over Europe Solitaire Game!	284	$54,294.00 (271%) in 19 days	2024-06-12	💸 Kickstarter	💰🌳
GotchaCards: a rock-paper-scissors card game!	a thrilling RPS dueling card game for all ages by Pat Casao & pabloKM	278	$15,972.00 (86%) in 31 days	2024-06-15	💸 Kickstarter	🌱
EXPENDABLE EMPLOYEES	A Cooperative Miniature Skirmish-Extraction Game Inspired by Lethal Company, Content Warning & Helldivers 2!	269	CA$6,390.00 (256%) in 24 days	2024-06-15	💸 Kickstarter	💰🌳
Dabba Walla	The famous Dabba Walla invite everyone to join them on their daily journey through Mumbai!	250	$14,400.00 (288%) in 5 days	2024-06-13	💸 Kickstarter 👥 2‑4 players 👶 8+ ⏱️ 30-45 min.	🎉💰🌳	BGG
The Thinning Veil Cormac Mac Airt on the Other Side of Midnight	A solo dungeon crawl now featuring a 2 player mode set in the world of The Thinning Veil, and featuring Cormac Mac Airt, High King of Inis Fael! This game is the first in the Thinning Veil line and the Cormac series.	243	£34,126.74 (1706%) in 26 days	2024-06-11	💸 Gamefound 👥 1‑2 players ⏱️ 90 min. Dice Game	💰
Freak War: A Card Game	A fun and simple pick-up-and-play card game—with unhinged rules and a hidden layer of intense strategy.	227	$15,544.00 (155%) in 26 days	2024-06-13	💸 Kickstarter 👥 2‑4 players 👶 6+ ⏱️ 15-60 min.	🎉💰	BGG
Dice Tales: Knight's Adventures	Become mighty Knight, live exciting adventures in this solo sandbox print and play roll and write board game with a dose of strategy.	226	€3,030.00 (3030%) in 10 days	2024-06-13	💸 Kickstarter 👥 1 player 👶 10+ ⏱️ 20-30 min.	💰🌱	BGG
One Hour World War II	A fast playing game of all of World War II for 2 players. Actions and Reactions drive the game. Plays in....wait for it.....1 hour.	224	$20,955.00 (1080%) in 8 days	2024-06-15	💸 Kickstarter	💰🌳
The 7 Seas: A New Start	Embark on a thrilling adventure in the world of The 7 Seas. Explore, trade, and fight to become a legend!	218	€20,600.20 (206%) in 24 days	⚠️ 2024-06-09	💸 Gamefound 👥 1‑5 players 👶 10+ ⏱️ 30-90 min.	💰	BGG
The Dream of Gods: An Interactive Mystery Game	Speak with gods. Solve puzzles. Uncover secrets. An interactive mystery book with audio, puzzles and visuals.	201	€12,151.00 (608%) in 25 days	2024-06-14	💸 Kickstarter	💰🌱
Of Popes & Plagues	The Game of Plague & Pestilence in the Middle Ages	183	$7,890.00 (158%) in 33 days	⚠️ 2024-06-09	💸 Kickstarter 👥 2‑6 players 👶 10+ ⏱️ 20-60 min.	💰🌱	BGG
Scare BnB - Spooky family fun for all ages!	Help guests flee from a Bed and Breakfast run by monsters!	142	$2,938.00 (94%) in 19 days	2024-06-11	💸 Kickstarter 👥 2‑4 players 👶 5+ ⏱️ 15-30 min.	🌱	BGG
El Camino de Belén (The Journey to Bethlehem)	The game that brings families together. Up to 4 teams, the first to get to Bethlehem wins! The game comes in English and Spanish.	111	$10,384.00 (103%) in 30 days	⚠️ 2024-06-09	💸 Kickstarter	💰
WARLINE x Dragons War	Design the battlefield. Design your army. Design custom tactics. Craft your own path to victory in this sandbox fantasy warfare game. Now, Warline's head-to-head "Strategicraft" gameplay is bolstered with the new solo or cooperative army-versus-dragon expansion—Dragons War.	99	$10,085.15 (81%) in 10 days	2024-06-16	💸 Gamefound 👥 1‑4 players ⏱️ 45 min. Wargame Cooperative

New this week (28)

Name	Description	Backers	Pledged	Ends	Information	Tags	BGG
Grimcoven	Discover our new boss battler game for 1-4 players, set in a dark Victorian universe where only the hunt matters. In the unique tactical gameplay of Grimcoven, you take up the role of a hunter fueled by Lament.	9366	$1,795,810.67 (3592%) in 3 days	2024-06-27	💸 Gamefound 👥 1‑4 players 👶 14+ ⏱️ 90-270 min. Cooperative	💰🔥🌳	BGG
RETURN TO THE 7th CITADEL. Explore, build, YOU are the hero!	Get ready for new adventures in the Collapsing Lands! 1000+ minutes of exploration and adventure for 1 to 4 slave-gardeners.	8031	€837,720.00 (1077%) in 5 days	2024-06-19	💸 Kickstarter	🎉💰🔥
🧁 Apothebakery - The Culinary Alchemists	Forage resources, brew elixirs and bake cakes of salvation to heal adventurers on the brink of doom in this game for 1 – 4 players.	3870	£286,958.00 (820%) in 5 days	2024-06-28	💸 Kickstarter 👥 2‑4 players 👶 14+ ⏱️ 60-90 min.	🎉💰🔥🌱	BGG
Mythic Battles: Isfet	Explore Ancient Egypt or Norse Mythology, commanding gods, heroes, monsters and troops in this 2-4 player skirmish adventure game!	3288	€627,108.00 (314%) in 5 days	2024-06-21	💸 Kickstarter 👥 2‑4 players 👶 14+ ⏱️ 60-90 min.	🎉💰🔥🌳	BGG
Mine Turtle: It’s a blast!	An explosive game of truth or dare.	2655	£98,122.00 (981%) in 6 days	2024-07-03	💸 Kickstarter	🎉💰🔥
Secret Villages & Santa's Workshop (+Related Story Puzzles!)	The first expansion to Merchants of the Dark Road, plus a deluxe edition of Santa's Workshop and our first two story-driven puzzles!	2289	$146,525.00 (488%) in 5 days	2024-06-22	💸 Kickstarter	💰🔥🌳
Agemonia Reprint + New Heroes!	From the publisher of Eclipse, a fully co-operative board game with challenging moral choices, set in an epic campaign for 1-4 players!	1924	€161,398.00 (461%) in 5 days	2024-06-21	💸 Kickstarter 👥 1‑4 players 👶 10+ ⏱️ 60-120 min.	🎉💰🔥	BGG
Yokai Septet Pocket Edition	Fan favorite trick-taking game is back with a smaller footprint and an official inclusion of 2-player mode!	945	$15,535.00 (518%) in 5 days	2024-06-21	💸 Kickstarter	💰🌳
Port Royal	A Miniature Skirmish Game set in the Searover's Caribbean	558	$72,324.00 (482%) in 4 days	2024-07-05	💸 Kickstarter	💰🌳
Pillars of Heracles - Awaken the Legends!	Lead your city-state through a monumental adventure in Ancient Greece in this epic civilization board game for 1-4 players.	517	$42,151.00 (211%) in 5 days	2024-06-24	💸 Kickstarter 👥 1‑4 players 👶 14+ ⏱️ 90-120 min.	💰	BGG
Imperfect Crimes: Pop-Up Escape Book	Solve an immersive, 3D PopUp Book crime escape game. Find clues, solve puzzles and explore each crime scene filled with hidden secrets.	463	€44,896.00 (180%) in 4 days	2024-07-08	💸 Kickstarter	💰🌳
Operation Barclay	Operation Barclay is a two-player game of low/medium complexity about the intelligence war between the Allies and their Abwehr counterparts in the Mediterranean theater in 1942-1943.	461	€15,244.85 (191%) in 3 days	2024-07-04	💸 Gamefound 👥 2 players 👶 10+ ⏱️ 25-40 min. Card Game	💰🌳	BGG
2GM Tactics 🔥 France & Total War	2GM Tactics series expansions. Fight in World War II! And become the best General.	368	€20,878.00 (418%) in 5 days	2024-06-28	💸 Kickstarter	💰🌳
Fluffy Dragons	A bluffing game, where you'll use the force of the elements to fight your Fluffiest enemies to collect the most gems!	357	$16,827.00 (224%) in 5 days	2024-06-29	💸 Kickstarter	💰🌱
Bunny Boom	Bunny Boom is a strategic game of bunny infestation! Manage actions, place cards, and pass the bunnies to your opponents to end the game with the fewest bunnies! 🐰💥	310	CA$28,728.43 (144%) in 5 days	2024-06-27	💸 Gamefound 👥 2‑4 players 👶 12+ ⏱️ 15-45 min. Card Game	💰	BGG
Cyberpunk RED: Combat Zone™ - RePrint and Vehicle MAYHEM	An introduction of vehicles to the Combat Zone featuring the Zetatech Herakles, sleek cyber-bikes, and more!	310	$83,971.00 (280%) in 4 days	2024-06-28	💸 Kickstarter	🎉💰🌳
Clash - D-Day Special edition	Get ready for an immersive World War II experience, during the D-Day landings in Normandy, 1944. 'Clash - D-Day Special edition' is an accessible, turn-based, tile-laying board game for 2 players. You and your opponent will have to fight for every beachhead to win this war. This special 80th commem…	308	€25,105.99 (279%) in 6 days	2024-07-03	💸 Gamefound 👥 2 players ⏱️ 45 min. Wargame Area Control	💰🌱
The Parthenogenesis of Hungry Hollow for Liminal Horror	The Parthenogenesis of Hungry Hollow is a sandbox investigation for Liminal Horror.	285	$12,340.00 (123%) in 5 days	2024-07-05	💸 Backerkit	💰
Dabba Walla	The famous Dabba Walla invite everyone to join them on their daily journey through Mumbai!	250	$14,400.00 (288%) in 5 days	2024-06-13	💸 Kickstarter 👥 2‑4 players 👶 8+ ⏱️ 30-45 min.	🎉💰🌳	BGG
CASSETTE DUNGEONS!	A compact rogue-like dungeon crawl board game through a realm of metal and madness packed in a cassette tape case!	196	$2,955.00 (197%) in 6 days	2024-07-03	💸 Kickstarter 👥 1 player 👶 13+ ⏱️ 5-45 min.	💰🌱	BGG
X: Seekers of Fortune | An Action-Packed Adventure Card Game	Hunt for lost relics and legendary sites while performing heroic feats to outfox your rivals in this tcg-like strategy card game.	191	$12,328.00 (123%) in 5 days	2024-07-01	💸 Kickstarter 👥 2‑4 players 👶 14+ ⏱️ 20-40 min.	🎉💰🌱	BGG
NAWALLI: The Aztec Card Game (Second Edition)	A strategic lane battle game based on Aztec mythology - become a Nawalli Sorcerer summoning Nawals and Spells to dominate the Arena!	129	$8,198.00 (410%) in 3 days	2024-07-06	💸 Kickstarter	💰
Paw of Duty	Command a kitty squad to regain control of a war-torn city.	102	$2,832.00 (189%) in 5 days	2024-07-04	💸 Kickstarter	💰🌱
TomeBound	The Game of Strategic Sorcery	77	$4,686.00 (134%) in 2 days	2024-07-07	💸 Kickstarter	💰🌱
Order of the Day: Normandy	A boardgame of the D-Day invasion, June 6, 1944, playable by inexperienced or veteran boardgamers.	60	$2,744.00 (62%) in 3 days	2024-07-06	💸 Kickstarter 👥 1‑2 players 👶 12+ ⏱️ 45-120 min.	🌳	BGG
Wrestling Cubes	A unique abstract strategy game about pinning your opponent's cubes.	51	$2,102.00 (42%) in 2 days	2024-07-07	💸 Kickstarter
Fantasy Adventure Game LIGHT AND DARKNESS	Embark on a journey full of dangers, random locations, random encounters, watch out for traps, hunt animals, heal the sick, pay for services, trade. Enter the darkness and explore ruins, caves, or undergrounds. Keep your team in mind and meet their basic needs of thirst, craving, and sleep.	19	PLN 5,227.50 (7%) in 6 days	2024-08-03	💸 Gamefound 👥 1‑3 players ⏱️ 180 min.	🌱
Top Line Hockey	A fast paced table top hockey game that fits on a piece of paper.	18	$605.00 (151%) in 1 days	2024-07-08	💸 Kickstarter	💰

Notable filtered projects (4)

Name	Description	Backers	Pledged	Ends	Information	Tags
DC20	The Next Great Evolution in Fantasy TTRPGs: A Fresh System with Epic Combat, Intuitive Gameplay, and Characters as Unique as Your Group	10643	$1,109,228.00 (5546%) in 5 days	2024-07-02	💸 Kickstarter	🎉💰🔥
Blade Runner RPG: Replicant Rebellion & Asset Pack	Fight back against Replicant oppression in this major expansion to the award-winning BLADE RUNNER RPG from Free League Publishing.	4134	SEK 3,612,769.00 (1445%) in 12 days	2024-06-13	💸 Kickstarter	🎉💰🔥🌳
Mörderin by John Blanche	John Blanche presents a new range of 32mm grimdark femmes miniatures based upon his artwork.	1733	£53,911.00 (2696%) in 4 days	2024-06-12	💸 Kickstarter	💰🔥🌱
Mörk Borg Action Figure w/ Zine by Stockholm Kartell	Dread Risen - A fully articulated Mörk Borg Action Figure w/ Zine by Johan and Pelle of Stockholm Kartell	1199	$104,799.00 (210%) in 40 days	2024-06-11	💸 Kickstarter	🎉💰🌳

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

One thing about having over 40 different Sapient species in a community, all of whom evolved in different situations, was that rarely would any two species wake up the same way. A mostly carnivorous species who'd evolved at the top of their food chain could sleep through damn near anything, as they never needed to worry too much about something killing them in their sleep. A herd animal would wake up at the slightest sound, requiring either near soundproof rooms or the presence of a sort of "Cuddle Puddle" in their bedroom to make them feel safe (Preferably with no large, 6 legged Deathworld predator in the middle of it). An omnivore who'd evolved somewhere in the middle could sleep pretty lightly, but might very well not be woken up by, say, their insectoid lover getting out of bed after the electric shock their communicator used to wake them, going to grab their (Now CLEARLY labeled) thermos from the fridge, and heading out the door to start their day.
Hence why a light alert was sounding throughout the station, warning any gardenworlders that a human was currently dashing through the area, large groups quickly moving to the sides or floating up into the air to make way for the wheezing, slightly out of shape young man who was thudding across the slightly reinforced metal floors towards the docking area, swarms of little metal balls rolling over to repair the dents in the floor, their encased feelers twitching slightly in a way anyone who'd known one of them would know to mean annoyed grumbles and some VERY harsh language unbecoming of the still adorable, marble to kiwi sized walking hazards.

"Dammit, she's probably still holding a grudge about me calling her a spider last month. Could have at LEAST poked me before she headed out." Ben mumbled, checking his communicator yet again as a dodged past yet another security checkpoint before the canine security officer could say what Ben KNEW they would say if given half the chance. He cursed as he got yet another communication from Syl, letting him know just how messy toilets designed to accommodate multiple species could get, even when partially self cleaning. Eventually, he made his way to the line in front of a particularly large, blocky black ship, crew and payload alike being loaded into the singular massive metal cargo door, currently being guarded by one of the ever present Kabosu security detail and a particularly large, well shined Korwagian who, after catching his eye, pointed him out to their canine companion and headed back into the ship. With a renewed sense of dread, Ben made his way slowly through the line, until he finally heard the words he KNEW he'd hear some variation of eventually, like EVERY time one of the furballs met a new one of his kind. "Such Greetings! Very Security! Much Help! Wow!", the canine barked, the trademark,adorable sidegrin somewhat lessening the blow as he patted the shorter, dense human on the shoulder. "Over half a century and you guys STILL insist on that meme as a greeting? She wasn't some big hero of our species, she was a very good dog people on our intern.....datanet loved at the time!" he grumbled, shaking the canines paw anyway and smiling at him after a bit. "And yet your species made the date of her death a human holiday decades later! Besides, some of us are still a bit sore you didn't do anything to stop us from changing the name of our entire race! Names Belber, by the way. Cap is expecting you in her office as soon as you board, wants your help smoothing over an issue with the Feltans." the Good Boy growled, Ben looking a bit confused before he recognized the official name of the Dust Bunnies. "Course she is. Names Ben, promise me no more doggo memes and we'll get along fine."
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Decided a lot of the chapters might be short till I actually get into the habit of actually writing as a hobby, also decided to actually cement one of the ideas I had for one of the races, RIP Kabosu.

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Karghol stepped forward. As Rob he might be scared, but he'd been the leader of the group for a long time, operating as our main tank across a ton of games, and now, I could see him taking that step again, "Okay, first thing's first. If they're gonna pop us out of this from the outside, then that's not on us, but we've all seen this anime. If they're not coming, then we need to get to the endgame as fast as possible."
"Nope," I shook my head, surprising even myself at how quickly I'd said something.
He turned, "What? I mean, we gotta get out ahead of this."
"In most games, I'd agree, but not here, not in this game. Also, side-point but decision time for everyone: Real names or character names? I can't keep flipping between them. Lugh is what's on my party registry, so I'm sticking with Lugh," It seemed small but wasn't.
I'd learned well enough that giving people all of the information was most often counter-productive at best. Giving people a small, immediate choice was far preferable and got them on the path to understanding better. Temur snorted slightly at the absurdity, "Well, I suppose you can call me either Temur, or Temur. Whichever floats your boat."
Several groans came out, and finally, some laughter. I mean, it was dad joke humor to be sure, but jokes were probably going to become a much more specific thing for us. From there, everyone chose their character names, either because it was simply easier given the nametags in our party rotation, or because they just didn't want everyone knowing their real ones. Khargol however, was a slight agitated, "Alright, so why not speedrun it?"
"Because speedrunners die and reset constantly."
The slight mirth died out in the room, but Khargol wasn't ready to yield the point, "I've watched you do a no-death run of Dark Souls!"
I nodded, "And do you have any idea how many times I died in that game getting to that level of skill? Look, this isn't Dark Souls. That game has set difficulty levels. Yeah, it's got solid AI, but here? The AI adapts to tactics, and I'm pretty sure the beta test players are about to learn that the hard way."
Everyone was a bit curious at the statement, but it was Shelara who spoke up, "What does that 'adaptive AI' mean?"
I sighed, and took a seat at the head of the table, with Khargol finally sitting down next to me, "It means the AI of the system is learning. Beta testers essentially get to play ahead of the general public to try and stress test the system under actual play conditions. Most usually, they'll try to learn as many exploits as possible, so even if they start out on brand new characters, they're still going to be far ahead of the pack, getting gear and coin ahead of others. Assume that the beta testers have watched things like SAO or other 'trapped in a video game' style series, and they're doing the same as Khargol is suggesting. Problem is, that's exactly what a bunch of them already did, and if the AI works like it's supposed to, then it's ready for them.
"For Valorian Saga, one of the biggest selling points was its adaptive AI system, a system that learns. What that means is that the system behind bosses has already learned those exploits from beta testers and has some sort of answer for them, and they're going to run dead into them."
Chrysta sat forward, leaning her elbows on the table, at least in part to show off her biceps, "Well if a speedrun is out of the question, then what do we do instead?"
Shelara cut back in, "But... shouldn't we try and go save the beta testers?"
I considered, "Shelara, in answer to your question, we can't. Even assuming we could catch up to wherever they're at, there's almost no chance they'd listen to us if we did. They're just as likely to assume we're rivals, or to think we're idiots, but regardless they won't be following our instructions just because we say so. As far as they're concerned, they already know this game, and we're a bunch of sprouts who are panicking. Even if we could get past that point, we don't know the game like they do, and we're more likely to end up needing saving before we ever get to them.
"As to the other question, Chrysta, what we do now is finish up the starter quests, then we use our flyers to join the militia."
Every MMO veteran groaned openly. Arkadi especially was annoyed at the concept, "Come on, man, faction-grinding on day two? We're not even out of the gate yet!"
I'd expected this, and checked my in-game clock, and swore under my breath. We needed to get moving, with only roughly eighteen minutes of daylight left, "Guys, that's why we need to join the militia. It's safe, and grinding up our faction rep with Valoria opens a lot of doors, not least of which is giving us barracks space to live in free of charge, basic equipment upgrades, and getting coin. That's just the short-term gains. Yeah, not much, but it gives us a foundation. We get the lay of the land, and we build up our strategies. There's another reason though, and it's important."
Khargol nodded, "As militia, we get arrest powers in line with the laws of Farrelston."
"Wait, we'd be cops?" Shelera seemed slightly hyped about the concept.
I nodded, "More or less. We aren't out in the main room right now cause everyone's losing their minds out there. They're all coming to terms with the idea that this place is where they might die, and that breeds desperate reactions. Fourteen million players split between fifty servers, giving an average server population of... two-hundred-eighty thousand per server give or take for server popularity. Assume maybe one percent of that go fully around the bend and get violent, and that gives us two thousand eight hundred violent criminals that just hit the city on this server that have the ability to level up within the system.
"Farrelston has to be a safe space for players to return to, but that can't happen if there isn't order, and that means law enforcement."
One of our newcomers made her presence felt, the elf woman from the cathedral, shaking as she spoke, "I'm Layala. What about my brother?"
Tom... "I don't know. I don't what happens to those who die in the game. Maybe they wake up, maybe they're just comatose in a hospital somewhere, or maybe they're gone."
I let it sink in for everyone. Layala's eyes fell to the table as she slowly wept. I hate this, but sugarcoating the thing wasn't good for anyone, "All I can work on right now is keeping us all alive. This is a fantasy RPG, so for all I know, there might be another way to get them back, but I don't want to get anyone's hopes up. Anyone who knows someone who didn't respawn, we'll keep a journal of names, to see that they're remembered. We chronicle the dead, and if the opportunity to get them back presents itself, we go all-in on it.
"I know we all have questions... but we can't stay here to answer them all, and I don't have all the answers for you. We need to start moving, and moving now. We've got thirteen people here, our five and the eight we added on. We've got enough people to form a guild when the time comes, so we should start acting like a guild now."
Layala's voice cracked, "I-I nominate Lugh."
I was startled. I've been very game-knowledgeable, but I wasn't the leader type. It was never my role in the group.
"I second the nomination."
Khargol. My head whipped around, "Look, guys, I'm not a leader. I know stuff, that's what I've got. Khargol's the one who leads."
Khargol shook his head, "Not here, not in this game. I'm all good for the tanking, but you're the only one of us who's putting out a plan of attack, and I'm getting more lost by the minute. It sucks dude, and it hurts to admit it to myself, but you're the guy this time."
Nods occurred, and by show of hands, I was almost unanimously elected to command the 'guild', minus my own dissenting vote. Well.... crapbaskets, "Alright, fine. I won't argue it, but we've gotta get a move on. Get the starter quests going, and when we unlock the job change system, we'll work things out from there. Until then, we'll break into three parties, two four-man parties, and one five-man. Khargol, you're in charge of the five-man, Temur and myself are the other party leaders for now. We'll meet at the barracks come sundown. We spread out the neos amongst the three parties so they're all protected, and we get started. Don't do any combat quests alone."
I picked up Shelera for my party's neo, along with Chrysta and Layala, and the parties agreed to meet up in front of the barracks around sunset so we could join up together. We fought the press of bodies in the tavern to get out into the streets, and headed off for our quests. I could feel my heart racing a bit, the whole thing feeling like some sort of bad dream, but we would need a minute to get things together, "Okay, let's check everyone's quest logs. Any shareable quests, share them with the group so we can all help out and get rewards. We tackle them from lowest to highest."
We moved through the streets to the first quest, running messages around the city for the heralds. The quest was designed to get new players oriented with the larger city of Farrelston and what factions existed within it. The vast majority of players though, were barely moving, either pressed into the tavern or milling about in front of the cathedral. This was a huge problem, and we were finding clusters of people around, hiding and trying to just deal with the enormity of it all. We were running messages to guards, merchants, and nobles on what was a very low-key questline while watching people crying or raging. Shelera moved up next to me, close to tears herself, "We can't do anything?"
a I halted, and looked around again, and noticed some people who weren't in groups. Solo players who had come in by themselves, the same as you'd see in any MMO, and now they were cut off from the world, friends, family, and no party. Solo players really only existed in MMOs, people who would just fill in the gaps, and otherwise keep to themselves, and it worked in the world of video games. In the real world, though, it wasn't good, "We can do a little."
I jogged over to where a powerfully built Dracon with a sword and shield was balled up on the ground, weeping, purple-scaled head buried in his arms. I knelt down next to him, laying a hand on his shoulder, "Hey, what's your character name?"
The Dracon boy looked up imploringly, his voice quavering, "Umbaar..."
"Hi, Umbaar. I'm Lugh, and these are my friends. Why don't you come with us? You can join our party," I kept my tone even by pleasant.
He nodded sheepishly and accepted the party invite, "My mom's gonna kill me. I wasn't even supposed to be playing the game."
Oh God, no, "How old are you, Umbaar?"
"I'll be fourteen in December."
Due to the nature of the game, the minimum age for Valorian Saga was eighteen. He'd likely gotten access to the rig, and just jumped on, and now he was trapped, "I'm sure right now, your mom's just worried about you, but we'll keep you safe. Come on, we've got quests to do."
The absurdity of our questing was fully growing with each step we took. After running messages, we helped the watch with investigating some local crimes to learn the search system, worked with merchants on trading to get the economy down, and along the way, we found some more solos to fill us out to the party cap of eight. The jobs were immaterial to me, but Shelera and Layala both found comfort in picking up more people, with the latter taking over care of Umbaar. NPCs went about their day's work, and I started to catch on to something, "Hey... is this day... running long to anyone else?"
Games don't use full twenty-four-hour days, using a shorter day and night cycle to give the impression of a world without having to artificially inflate the game to make it feel like a full day. Valorian Saga had, in the videos, been shown to have a twenty-minute day, and twenty-minute night, but as we ran around, it had been far more than twenty minutes now. The sun had barely moved in the sky, which given the rest of the game's level of detail wasn't something they would've ignored. Chrysta spoke up after counting her clock, "Uh... well dearheart, I do believe we've got us a twenty-four cycle now."
There were several possibilities to this, perhaps either our minds changed gear to work with in-game time, or the game had altered to have twenty-four-hour time. Either way, we had no answers for it. I was getting a bit sick of having more and more questions I couldn't answer, but I couldn't focus on it in the here and now. I called a halt, and we found a small corner tavern to get food and drink. I took some time with the menu system, and up popped the character status window.
By statistics, we were moving up a bit, but the main stats of our jobs weren't changing very much at all. My basic stats for movement had risen, but not by much, and the gain was tapering off. That was probably from all the walking around the city we were doing. Reputations were going up in the city guilds attached to our quests, but again, they were minor improvements, and the effective XP was tapering off from doing them. I took out my character journal, a system conceit by the devs that the game world was simply too grand in scale to not allow a lot of notetaking, and did stat-math just like when I would spreadsheet my builds at home. From what I could see, the game had no true 'leveling' system. Instead, skills and attributes were built up by how you played, sort of like in Skyrim, but the same actions would not keep getting you the same degree of XP. A common enough point, or else someone could pull a South Park and just merc wolves until they hit the cap. Abilities would unlock as your stats rose, some coming online automatically like Sprint, while others you had to find a trainer for, such as the Double Knock ability for archers. From what I'd seen online, the abilities would unlock advanced jobs, and certain combinations would unlock hybrid jobs, so a Paladin would be a combination of a knight and acolyte. None of the testers had gotten that far, however, they'd just seen the possibility of it.
I noticed Shelera leaning over to look at my journal, and I smiled, "Just doing nerd stuff, plotting my progression to figure out what jobs I need."
She smiled back, "That seems weirdly normal. What are you thinking of doing?"
"Well, for now, I need to move up my abilities as a Hunter, right? Hunter eventually leads to a few choices, so I'm thinking I'll probably go for a Ranger build. That means I can train up Yndress here as a battle companion."
Yndress had been flying about with me, and sometimes resting on my shoulder, and now, she was curled up by my arm on the table as I continued. Shelera reached over and petted Yndress, "That is so cool. She's so warm. I totally should've figured out a way to get the limited edition... so what should I be leveling up?"
"Well, you're a vagabond, so you might look at something like Bounty Hunter since we're working with the militia. Combine that with another job.... huh."
"What?"
Daeva grinned, "Oh, sweetie, he just worked somethin' out. What do you need, Lugh?"
"Give me a minute. I need to go to the scrivener," I shot up and stepped out of the tavern.
It wasn't far to the scrivener where I could buy the supplies I needed. We'd just done an ink delivery there, and now, I would need paper and ink to work with. Returning, I cleared off the tavern table and laid out a large scroll used for maps, currently unmarked, "Okay, I need everyone to bring up your character pages and stand where I can read them."
Gamers generally do have a sense of when someone's worked out an exploit, and this was one of those times. They brought up their screens so I could start marking down abilities, attributes, and skills. Of note, my Scibing ability was ticking slowly upward as I laid things out. Scribing could turn into runic writing and other more arcane and mundane pursuits. What I was working on became a skill tree system, with the various jobs being grouped together. I had to move things around, and in real life I wouldn't be able to do that with ink, but in the game sense, it was pretty simple. I kept moving around my drawing, finally starting to come into a workable initial system of abilities, jobs, and other things that built off of one another. It look a bit mad, like if no one had stopped the devs on Path of Exile's skill tree, but it was there, "We're thinking about this wrong. We need to get to the barracks. I don't want to explain this twice."
Banded back up, I stopped by our newest unlock: Carriage Stations. The city was entirely too big to be running around it all the time, and for just half a silver, we could go to any other ward in the city. I signaled the coachman, handing him my flyer, "Take us to the militia barracks."
The coachman nodded sharply, "Right you are, sir."
The coaches held four, so we split between the two, and I rechecked my numbers. I was pretty certain I was right by the math, but these things didn't always pan out like you wanted, so it was best to recheck. It still seemed to be working out like I thought, but I needed Temur for a blind study of it. We got out at the barracks, a building made up of fortified walls and barred windows with internal shutters. Militiamen NPCs were standing guard out front, while we could just see some working in the training yard to the side. From what I could see, however, we were the only players here.
Temur's party arrived first, and apparently, I wasn't the only one picking up strays as two carriages emptied of people. He was running a full party as well now, and grinning in his uniquely Temur way, even if he did have draconic features now, "So, I see we're all taking in the lost little lambs?"
"I mean, sure, why not? That's how we met, so why not do it here, too?"
He nodded, "Questing went well, if a bit hum-drum, but you have a look in your eyes that says you've worked something out. You got math time!"
I nodded, "Waiting for... yeah, Khargol went off-road, I see."
Temur and I had shown up with two carriages each, only for Khargol to pull up with four, all packed. That put our new numbers at thirty-two players as he practically bounced up to us, "What?!"
We both shook our heads, "Nothing, man. Never change. I've got some news for everyone."
The full mass moved over to the side of the building so we weren't obstructing the entrance, "Party people, I worked something out at lunch."
I rolled out my map of the skills tree, "Okay, so I was going over my character screen, and did some math. I know what we need to do: We need to move up on every job."
Khargol shook his head, "Isn't that gonna leave us as jacks of all trades? We'd be running pretty average."
I gestured with my hands a bit in dismissal, "Usually, you're right, but here, it's different. The stats aren't really separated here, they're intended for cross-classing, and it's not just the combat jobs. I moved up a bit at Scribing here, and it looks like it'll be the same for crafting and gathering jobs. Move up in X, Y, and/or Z jobs and you unlock a hybrid. So like, say you move up as a blacksmith, armorer, and weaponsmith. All three have abilities building into one another, and that can unlock further abilities, other jobs, a whole classification of things we can't see yet.
"Using abilities works up the stats associated with that ability, and the higher the ability, the more XP it generates for the stats. Those stats still stay there when you do a job change, so you could be a Gladiator working up strength by working the forge."
Shelera looked over the drawing, "Okay, so you think if we take every job up, then that'll make us a lot stronger? But won't we end up with a bunch of usless stats?"
I shook my head, "No, for two primary reasons. For one, what if instead of Paladin, you went something like a Hexblade in D&D terms? Or, Shelera, you take Bounty Hunter, then build up your hunter job to Scout, and you have something akin to a Justicar class? Or Khargol, what if you master every weapon group?"
Temur's interest was peaked at mention of Hexblade, "And what is the second reason?"
I sucked in a breath, "It's a job change system. There's a job change skill, and every basic skill I've seen has upgrades, even if I can't see the end of the trees yet. The adaptive AI is going to adapt to our individual tactics, but even if all of us were playing hunters, we'd all approach hunting differently, maybe more reliant on archery, or snares, or pets. It would force the AI to keep readapting its own tactics on the fly. If we build up, we might just be able to get to something better than the sum of our parts."
Karghol nodded, "And that makes it doubly important we get going on the militia stuff. Shall we?"
The lot of us went over to the barracks, where a guard greeted us at the door, "Hold, citizens. What is your business with the thirteenth Valorian militia?"
I stepped forward, "We're here to enlist for service."
The guard perked right up, "Ah, good. Greetings and well met! I am Sergeant-at-Arms Brant. We are in need of stalwart folk to help protect Farrelston and wider Valoria in these trying times. Dark things are afoot both at home and afar, and it speaks well of you that you would choose service. Please, enter the hall, and register yourselves with Yeoman Granger. Welcome once again, may the purple dragon fly eternal!"
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Hello. I am almost 22 and I am looking for older people to give me some advice. I know that addiction is a disease, and a gnarly one. I have my own personal struggles, but my main concern related to the topic is my father. He will be 54 this year and I am starting to get worried that he will not live to see me have children. We have not always had the closest relationship, but I do love and care for him greatly. I will kind of set the stage of my father, his personality and his past. Apologies in advance if this post is not typically what people come here to read, but I have never really told anyone my story about my dad in its entirety, and I just kind of want to get it off my chest. And I also just watched The Whale, and regardless of how you feel about the movie, it made me feel things about my own father in a weird way and those emotions are real and separate from the media that probed them.
My mother admits, without saying the exact words, that she settled. She was in her late twenties and she strongly desired a family and felt that her time was "running out". She is my dad's second wife. They live together essentially as roommates. They get into huge screaming matches that start at the silliest, most trivial things, like loading the dishwasher inefficiently. The fights always circle back to the core truths that they hold about one another, the deep discomfort that each of them have with certain traits of the other. My mother is too loud and too emotional. She is messy and, if she lived alone, would almost certainly have collected a menagerie of abandoned animals by now. My father is a functional alcoholic living in denial. He has an intense desire for control of his surroundings. A few people that know me and my family intimately enough have come to me genuinely asking if my father is autistic. I am not sure if I agree or how I feel about that, but it is an observation that has been made about him more than once. He has pretty severe anxiety that he is medicated for (Xanax) but rarely takes, instead choosing to self-medicate (booze). He was not very present in my life growing up, although we always lived under the same roof. My mother taught me how to drive, how to ride a bike, how to ice skate, how to write, how to read, how to bake. Ironically, he is a teacher, and yet was never there for many of life's crucial lessons. My dad is always lingering out the outskirts of my memories, watching me from afar. We fought heavily during my teen years when I first began realizing how he had stepped back from my childhood to instead focus on his work and drinking. Those are the two things he puts the most time, money, and energy into. That, and I guess science fiction movies about space, and maybe listening to ambient music and Radiohead.
I live about two hours from my parents currently, and last week my mom came to see me and get lunch. She said that my father is cutting back on the drinking. This is certainly not the first time, this is a perpetual new year's resolution for him that always seems to peter out around the first gloomy days of February. If he can make it without drinking for 30 days, he's not a "real" alcoholic, right? The difference this time, is that when he tapered down to one drink a day he started going through withdrawals. He got the shakes and the sweats. Selfishly, I'm glad I wasn't home to see that. It makes me worry that his habits are going to catch up with him. The things he jokes about, how he's gone through "a dozen livers in his life so far", no longer seem very funny, if they ever even were. He was a bartender in college, and alludes to the fact that it was there his issues with alcohol began, though he never explicitly says it. He'll say, "When I was a bartender, you know, I had to start biking to work so I could get myself home" and that sort of thing. His genes also aren't on his side. Much of his side of the family are heavy drinkers, they are northern people who say they drink to keep warm in the cold and desolate winters. But, that no longer seems to make much sense when great uncle bill starts showing signs of alcohol-related dementia and cousin Doug can drink a whole handle of vodka when he's out ice fishing and then drive three hours home.
Sorry again for the long post. All of that to say, what do I do here? My dad's social life revolves primarily around drinking. He doesn't have any hobbies that he doesn't do while drinking. He used to brew beer a lot with his friends when I was a kid but over the past decade or so he's shifted to drinking only liquor. He starts in the afternoon on his days off work, maybe noon, and then continuously drinks until he goes to bed. He tells me that vodka tastes sweet to him, and he has a certain gene that makes his tastebuds different (he is a biology and genetics teacher btw). He was hospitalized for a night a couple years ago and my parents have not really told me the specifics. Something to do with his blood pressure and sodium levels. I suspect it is connected to his drinking, otherwise he would have told me what was wrong. He has enough awareness of his issue to not discuss it in plain terms, but not enough to actually do anything about it. The only person who has called him out on his drinking, besides my mother (he has been dismissing her for years, although she has almost left him over it), is my parent's neighbor. She used to drink with him frequently, and she introduced him to marijuana. After a couple publicly embarrassing incidents, she went to rehab and has now been sober for three years. She told my mother once that my dad reminds her of herself, and not in a good way. My dad takes things very personally and he will avoid you for a long time if you say something to him that he doesn't like. He has thin skin and deals incredibly poorly when faced with criticism.
How do I talk to him about this without him shutting me down and brushing me off? I feel like since I am young, he will not take me seriously in my concerns about him, as that is what he usually says to me when I try to give him advice about things. Perhaps I am not the right person to talk to him about this anyway, but I still want to help. If you have read this whole thing, thank you. Truly, thank you. It feels good to put these thoughts that have been swirling in my head for years into words.

Hello. I am almost 22 and I am looking for older people to give me some advice. I know that addiction is a disease, and a gnarly one. I have my own personal struggles, but my main concern related to the topic is my father. He will be 54 this year and I am starting to get worried that he will not live to see me have children. We have not always had the closest relationship, but I do love and care for him greatly. I will kind of set the stage of my father, his personality and his past. Apologies in advance if this post is not typically what people come here to read, but I have never really told anyone my story about my dad in its entirety, and I just kind of want to get it off my chest. And I also just watched The Whale, and regardless of how you feel about the movie, it made me feel things about my own father in a weird way and those emotions are real and separate from the media that probed them.
My mother admits, without saying the exact words, that she settled. She was in her late twenties and she strongly desired a family and felt that her time was "running out". She is my dad's second wife. They live together essentially as roommates. They get into huge screaming matches that start at the silliest, most trivial things, like loading the dishwasher inefficiently. The fights always circle back to the core truths that they hold about one another, the deep discomfort that each of them have with certain traits of the other. My mother is too loud and too emotional. She is messy and, if she lived alone, would almost certainly have collected a menagerie of abandoned animals by now. My father is a functional alcoholic living in denial. He has an intense desire for control of his surroundings. A few people that know me and my family intimately enough have come to me genuinely asking if my father is autistic. I am not sure if I agree or how I feel about that, but it is an observation that has been made about him more than once. He has pretty severe anxiety that he is medicated for (Xanax) but rarely takes, instead choosing to self-medicate (booze). He was not very present in my life growing up, although we always lived under the same roof. My mother taught me how to drive, how to ride a bike, how to ice skate, how to write, how to read, how to bake. Ironically, he is a teacher, and yet was never there for many of life's crucial lessons. My dad is always lingering out the outskirts of my memories, watching me from afar. We fought heavily during my teen years when I first began realizing how he had stepped back from my childhood to instead focus on his work and drinking. Those are the two things he puts the most time, money, and energy into. That, and I guess science fiction movies about space, and maybe listening to ambient music and Radiohead.
I live about two hours from my parents currently, and last week my mom came to see me and get lunch. She said that my father is cutting back on the drinking. This is certainly not the first time, this is a perpetual new year's resolution for him that always seems to peter out around the first gloomy days of February. If he can make it without drinking for 30 days, he's not a "real" alcoholic, right? The difference this time, is that when he tapered down to one drink a day he started going through withdrawals. He got the shakes and the sweats. Selfishly, I'm glad I wasn't home to see that. It makes me worry that his habits are going to catch up with him. The things he jokes about, how he's gone through "a dozen livers in his life so far", no longer seem very funny, if they ever even were. He was a bartender in college, and alludes to the fact that it was there his issues with alcohol began, though he never explicitly says it. He'll say, "When I was a bartender, you know, I had to start biking to work so I could get myself home" and that sort of thing. His genes also aren't on his side. Much of his side of the family are heavy drinkers, they are northern people who say they drink to keep warm in the cold and desolate winters. But, that no longer seems to make much sense when great uncle bill starts showing signs of alcohol-related dementia and cousin Doug can drink a whole handle of vodka when he's out ice fishing and then drive three hours home.
Sorry again for the long post. All of that to say, what do I do here? My dad's social life revolves primarily around drinking. He doesn't have any hobbies that he doesn't do while drinking. He used to brew beer a lot with his friends when I was a kid but over the past decade or so he's shifted to drinking only liquor. He starts in the afternoon on his days off work, maybe noon, and then continuously drinks until he goes to bed. He tells me that vodka tastes sweet to him, and he has a certain gene that makes his tastebuds different (he is a biology and genetics teacher btw). He was hospitalized for a night a couple years ago and my parents have not really told me the specifics. Something to do with his blood pressure and sodium levels. I suspect it is connected to his drinking, otherwise he would have told me what was wrong. He has enough awareness of his issue to not discuss it in plain terms, but not enough to actually do anything about it. The only person who has called him out on his drinking, besides my mother (he has been dismissing her for years, although she has almost left him over it), is my parent's neighbor. She used to drink with him frequently, and she introduced him to marijuana. After a couple publicly embarrassing incidents, she went to rehab and has now been sober for three years. She told my mother once that my dad reminds her of herself, and not in a good way. My dad takes things very personally and he will avoid you for a long time if you say something to him that he doesn't like. He has thin skin and deals incredibly poorly when faced with criticism.
How do I talk to him about this without him shutting me down and brushing me off? I feel like since I am young, he will not take me seriously in my concerns about him, as that is what he usually says to me when I try to give him advice about things. Perhaps I am not the right person to talk to him about this anyway, but I still want to help. If you have read this whole thing, thank you. Truly, thank you. It feels good to put these thoughts that have been swirling in my head for years into words.

Hello! I hope this post is allowed, and that I used the right flair. Before I begin, I would like to tell you that I am not completely dog-free nor anti-dog. I only like dogs if they are well-trained, obedient, and were not bred to suffer because it’s “cute” (a breed that was basically made to suffer for example are pugs… Poor things cannot breathe because of their ugly smooshed faces…)
About 4 years ago, my parents got 3 poodles. Two of them are larger than the third one. And ever since they got these dogs, my home life has been far from peaceful… The fact that these dogs are present in the house affects me negatively in a sensory manner. I have sensory issues with certain smells and loud sounds due to being neurodivergent. First, they constantly bark! All the fucking time! It’s loud and very repetitive, and it is very annoying! It’s headache inducing. Second, because my family has these big dogs, the house is constantly filled with the stench of unseasoned chicken or beef being cooked. My sensory issues with smells makes me literally unable to tolerate the smell of unseasoned meat cooking. The smells get so strong, that it seemingly stings my nose. I go into my room and open a window as wide as possible and turn on a fan and wait in my room as I wait foe the stench to die down. If we didn’t have these big dogs, the house would be filled with the smell of cookies being baked in the oven instead of some greasy-ass unseasoned chicken. Third, they are just way too hyper and crazy for my comfort. They literally run as fast as they can in a room that is small and has lots of furniture, jumping on couches, reaching for and gobbling up human food that is on a table (seriously, one of these big dogs goes on its hind legs just to eat some human food on a dinner table!), and go into your room and take small objects if you left the door open.
Overall, having to live with these three big dogs has been a nightmare for me, and even if it’s been four whole years, I have never once gotten used to a single aspect of it. I don’t think I would ever get better at having to handle the constant smell of meat being cooked, the constant noise of the annoying barking, or big dogs literally running around a very small room to wreck things up.

I am not OOP. OOP is u/Constant_Barnacle992
Posted in TrueOffMyChest 2 months ago- https://www.reddit.com/TrueOffMyChest/comments/1caj4og/i_ruined_my_wifes_life/
Update #1 to add more context in same post as first post.
Update #2 in the same post as the first.
Update #3 posted in TrueOffMyChest 5 days ago.
https://www.reddit.com/TrueOffMyChest/comments/1d7eiq1/i_ruined_my_wifes_life_again/
I (m43) try to do my best to provide for my wife (f38) and 2 kids (3,5) as well as my MIL and would like to think I am doing a decent job. Over the years, I worked to improve our family’s living situation, not only did I complete another bachelors and recently masters in a STEM related degree, I at the same time worked 2 full time jobs (while completing my 2nd bachelors) and put my wife through school as well. She completed a degree where she could make good money (~60-70k/yr) in a healthcare field that always has jobs available. But with the birth of our 2 kids, she has since “gave up” on her career to be a SAHM for the time being. At first it was a struggle while I was finishing up my masters. Once I completed it, after our youngest turned 3 my career took a jump up and we are now able to afford our single income household in a more feasible manner. We’re far from rich but do ok for a single income family of 4 (a little north of 150k base+ bonuses). The past year life was overwhelming per my wife, so even though I now work 75% from home, I budgeted to hire a daytime nanny to help her around the house with 1 child while the other is in school now
My day starts everyday around 530-6am. I get the house ready for the day before the nanny comes at 8am, I get our oldest up and ready for school, breakfast made, and plan out my day, bring our oldest to drop off, and be home in time to let the nanny in. My most recent task at work has me grounded for the next 2 months meaning I am now 100% WFH, while this is nice, I am busy in meetings all day as my role manages teams on a global scale as I oversee projects from my industry. For the past 1 ½ months, I realized… my wife as much as she says her life is stressful at home… starts at 10am. I asked my MIL and nanny if this was always the case after a week or so of wfh, and they both responded more or less… sometimes earlier sometimes later. My wife literally wakes up and cooks and then scrolls through her phone or shops from home… which brings me to my gripe.
I am glad I am able to provide her that sort of life since we both grew up lacking in means. I get the possibility of postpartum depression, the stress of having kids, the feeling of being unfulfilled, the fact that I probably am a shitty husband… but for what it’s worth… everything is taken care of and then some.
I manage the houses finances (she claimed she was too busy to do so), pay all the household bills, I pay my own personal bills, I pay her bills, track and perform all the upkeep of our house appliances/cars/pets/etc., and I also “help” pay for my MIL’s medical bills and car note.
…but apparently my life is on easy street compared to hers. I can't decompress to her because it seems like she always feels the need to 1 up me. I had a bad day… but she had it worse cause I’m lucky I got to go away and work… My feet hurt from walking all day during work travel, which is nothing compared to her standing and cooking with a child clinging to her. For the past 2 or so years… I’ve been told I ruined her life, her opportunities, etc… but when I reminded her of what she says, she denies and dodges accountability. My MIL has brought me aside and stated she’s noticed a change in both myself and my wife. I have a greater attachment to my kids and hell… I’ve hugged the dogs and talked to them more about my life than to my wife. I honestly feel like I am in emotional survival mode as I’m one step from moving up the career ladder and one step away from finding love and comfort from the bottom of a whiskey bottle.
I’m sure I’ll be hearing from the manly men of reddit about how I’m simping… but I’m not a machine. I just want to know and feel that someone I prioritize aside from my kids appreciates and loves me for what I do… I’m sure I’ll hear from the stay at home moms of reddit… which is fine. I grew up in a single parent/mother household. It’s not easy… and honestly with the help of her mother and a nanny Mon-Fri, for one toddler while another child is at school… Can you honestly tell me she’s having the typical SAHM experience? Because neither my friends or colleagues who are single parents can say she is. I’m sure the masses of holier than thou redditors will consider this a poorly written fanfic, but it is what it is.
TL;DR Long story short, It feels as if my wife has checked out of our marriage… we’re only roommates where she can still reap the marriage benefits. I’m not asking for her to throw herself at me all the time and let me do whatever I want… I really just want to be told I’m doing good and just offer me some form of emotional comfort as simple as a hug, but I guess as the man who ruined her life, I deserve it.
Update #1 in same post.
*Thank you for the replies. To add more context:

1. Never cheated. I do work in an industry that has a large female population, but I’m literally an open book with work, name colleagues and staff under me, she has access to my work agendas and correspondence if she really wanted to snoop, but on that note she still doesn’t know what exactly I do for a living at this time…
2. We as whole family her parents and mine have tried to get her to go to therapy but she refuses or skirts around the issue.
3. Aside from my coming from a single mother household perse, my biological dad was present in my life. She has had both parents in a reportedly monogamous marriage for over 40 years.
4. I have tried to talk to her about everything and my own feelings but again… 1 upmanship tends to be the trend here.
5. What I am getting out of the marriage was asked… now, aside from my 2 beautiful kids, I’ve been asking myself that same question. We have a near nonexistent sex life mainly since last year. I always figured maybe it’s part of depression or whatever she may be going through… maybe I’m just not attractive enough or just horrible in bed because of my health conditions… I’m not some super model husband but temptation and opportunity does knock and I can perform still but I never give in, because as cliche as it sounds I honestly do love my wife and want to only be with her.
6. I’ll give credit where credit is due as I don’t want to sound biased: when I say she wakes up and cooks she cooks for everyone in the house. Myself, kids, MIL, and even nanny. Aside from breakfast she cooks all meals and snacks. I typically fast until lunch time and our oldest tends to eat a small simple breakfast incase they don’t like what school serves that morning. She does load both the kids and her laundry… but seldomly folds and puts them up. I typically do my own and the rest of my clothes I dry clean because they’re work clothes. She does keep track of our pantry and fridge? But after she makes the list I’m the one who goes out and buys everything if not delivered. She does clean our bathrooms and house 50% of the time, the other 50 is done by either MIL or myself or sometime nanny if she feels like being extra helpful.
7. Prior to nanny, my MIL was the main help for my wife up until she had unexpected medical needs. So I opted to hire a nanny to help them both, more so when MIL is having treatments and recovering.

Update #2 at the top of same post.
UPDATE 06May2024. Not sure if anyone would read this, but thank you for those who have reached out and chit chatted. While I know I’ve kept my newfound friends here updated, I figured I just update my post and keep it short.
I showed my wife my post the following weekend and she read it and all the comments. Long story short, argument, she left our house to stay with her sister, and I’ve been a “single parent” since.
It’s sad to say, aside from the goodnights to our kids it’s all pretty much the same routine.
Nothing much else to say other than thank you for all the kind words of encouragement.
***just need to add, this post got bigger than I expected from a venting post but I’ve responded to a few comments. Nonetheless, thank you for the comments and DMs… and more so for the offers to let me ruin your life ha. It’s been the highlight of my day/night as I sit here drinking with my dog while everyone else is asleep.
It feels depressingly sad that I feel that I have to turn to random internet strangers for some sort of validation in my rant. My apologies in advance as I try to keep this as vague as possible.
Update 3 posted in TrueOffMyChest 5 days ago
https://www.reddit.com/TrueOffMyChest/comments/1d7eiq1/i_ruined_my_wifes_life_again/
**First off, thank you for all the comments and DMs. Some context and clarification since admittingly my post was emotionally charged since I typed it up after another argument. **
Post birth, our kids pediatrician’s office gave my wife those PostPartum Depression screening forms and during the time of both she scored pretty high and was suggested to see a therapist. With our second child she scored significantly higher and we or I should say I made an effort to get her the help she needs. She refused, so entered mother-in-law and nanny for support… I know what people will say/think, but this is one of the reasons I am not 100% ready to just give up and file our life together away.
Also, I know silently suffering in the near and long run of our kids' future will not add to a healthy atmosphere, but neither would a bitter and hate filled divorce. I know some have compared it to the ripping off a bandage, saying it’ll hurt at first but that pain goes away but I’d rather try to spare my kids thinking that their parents ended up hating each other because of them or something along those lines.
I’ve told a few ppl I talk to in DM since my last post, a little more insight on my personal life, prior to my promotion I was a PM managing teams and budgets so out of habit I plan for a lot of “what ifs.”. That being said, I made a number of contingency plans if sadly things went south. So, yes I:
Have talked to a lawyer, 3 actually. Know our rights and what each of us are entitled to. Have a draft settlement created and on hold until I feel I need to use it. I know what I want and am willing to offer more than what is fair for our kids' well being, but also have a plan if we end up going to court.
It’s 100% on me that I’m suffering in silence, but I’m too stubborn to just give up so while I am venting, I don't expect anyone to “feel sorry for me”. I endure it to keep the norm our kids know, ensure my MIL’s treatments go uninterrupted, and of course the hope my wife would finally be open to give therapy a shot and climb together to a better place.
Thank you all again.
I just wanted to update those who have been kind enough to check up via DM and comments. Apologies in advance for the lengthy post. It’s a bit of irony and coincidence that I made a follow up from the update on 06May2024 I made on my original post during men’s mental health awareness month but I could really use another outlet outside of my therapist. My apologies if this isn’t the story book ending/destroying of a relationship people were hoping for…
To save you a read. Wife left. Came back like nothing happened. She made it about her. Nothings changed. I’m continuing to be suffering mentally knowing nothing will change while trying to keep it together for our kids. Lots of take out.
The day after she packed up and left, my wife attempted to come back and take the kids with her to her sister’s. Naturally I was against this and thankfully so was her whole family including said sister. Not only was it not fair to our kids for her to sweep them away into a home that’s not theirs but to put that financial and housing stress on the rest of her family since she doesn’t work and her sister and her family (husband and 3 kids) stays with their dad in the house they grew up in.
After a little over a week of being away, I guess she cooled off so she just decided that it would be fine if she walked in the door with her bags as if she just came back from Target. She came into my office while I was working and angrily stared at me while I sat on a conference call meeting with my team and I couldn't just jump off as this is a busy time of the quarter for us. I guess that didn’t sit well with her because once I took off my headset and closed my laptop she started yelling at me about how much I really don’t care about her and her well being overall. At that moment I couldn't do anything more than look at her and just shake my head. Mother in law came in after hearing my wife yelling and pulled her away, telling her to not bother me, while our nanny kept our youngest away from it all on the other side of the house.
That night after the kids were put to bed, I sat in my office by myself with a drink as I have been doing for the past nights and my wife came in. We talked. We argued. We cried. We drank. One thing led to another and we were in bed. I wish I could say that was our making up but the next sobering morning as we laid there, she went on about how hard it was for her the time she was gone. Literally… it was about her struggles staying at her family house in her old room with her dad and sister’s family. How lucky I am to be able to stay here and do this and that and buy this or do that and not stress as much as they did.
How easy MY and everyone else's in our family lives are compared to hers even though we had similar upbringings…
My mind and heart broke that morning. I’ve been spiraling down since then and this last week I made another attempt to reconcile and talk things out, but I was met with a shouting match while trying to express my current stress and anxieties with life and work in general:
Wife: ”... well do you know how hard this is all for me? You’re supposed to help me be happy.” Me: “So when it comes to my happiness, stress, needs, and overall well being… fk me get over it right? ” Wife: “ We all have our own problems, you need to figure it out and get over them.”
I don't know who the woman I am at home with is but that wasn’t the woman I married and vowed to spend my life with and raise our kids together. Since that conversation, I’ve been noticeably distant with her. I’ve been sleeping in my office or on the couch or with my kids in their bed after putting either one of them to sleep. Still doesn't change her starting her day at 10am… and sitting on her phone talking to her mom groups between cooking meals with the kids in both mother in law and nanny’s care.
Nothing has changed and I doubt that anything will change. Sadly, I think even if we got a divorce, nothing would change or feel different anyway since during my wife’s leaving the days seemed like any other day except with a little more take out than usual. My main fear there isn’t that I wouldn’t just lose my wife, I’d lose my kids in the process.
So I guess it’s sad to say the grand finale to my story with like alot of men and some women I’ve talked to here, I’ll just continue to smile and suffer in silence.
EDIT: Now deleted comment history found by a commenter.
From his comment history
I've been struggling with ED in my later 30's early 40s, for a while I thought I had low testosterone or it was due to my health. I got "healthier" (lost the weight, lowered my blood pressure, got off the meds) and when that didn't work I got consultations from a few urologists and endocrinologist. I did test for low T... so I got on hormone therapy. It somewhat worked... but a few of the urologist highly suspect I have a penile venous leak. After talking to quite a number of experts in the field and looking for alternatives... I actually found a combination of both medication (Trimix) and device that honestly made me harder than in my 20s- early 30s. Even though this combination gets me good to go within 10-15 minutes which is usually focused on foreplay with my wife. For the last of 2021 and early 2022 we were having some of the best sex of our marriage almost daily... then one day after sex she tells me she doesn't feel happy with it because it's "unnatural" that I have to take these steps to just make love to her. She then compared me to her ex in bed... I laid there next to her in silence and just turned away. My brain broke that night.

What's up guys, its Big_Orchid here on my other reddit account. Here's my whole regimen and some notes to help you all out!
Organic Herbs (Everything taken in the morning and at night)

• Wild whole cloves, not dried
• Green Walnut Hull
• Prickly ash bark
• Slipper elm inner bark
• Greater Burdock Root
• Dandelion Root
• Cat's claw (twice a day)
• Plantain leaf
• Wormwood
• Mary Ruth’s Organic Mushroom Complex
• Olive Leaf Extract
• Colloidal Silver
• Oregano oil (rub 2 drops on your spine also) Since it is very potent, use it for 14 days, then take a break for 14 days to avoid damaging the liver.
• 3% Food Grade Hydrogen Peroxide (used for cleaning fruits)
• Cilantro (yes it’s a vegetable but it is a natural chlorophyll building plant that pulls metals and toxins out of the body. Can just put some in your teas)

Organic Raw Fruits

• Pears
  
• Red/Purple grapes with seeds are most powerful, seedless or green grapes is acceptable
  
• Mangos
  
• Oranges (no orange juice unless squeezed yourself)
  
• Pineapple
  
• Berries
  
• Watermelon
  
• Raw/Unfiltered/unheated honey
  
• Raw Apple Cider Vinegar (has antifungal properties)
  
• No L-Arginine fruits, only L-Lysine fruits (only recommend the fruits above)
  
• Wash the fruits in a bowl of distilled water and some food-grade hydrogen peroxide
  

IGG Bloodwork

• Should get western blot test if you can
• Below 0.90 is negative
• If you are between a 2.0-10.1 then you need a 10+ week detox
• If you are 10.0+ then you need a 14+ week detox

Notes

• Once you come out negative, you must still stay on the protocol for at LEAST 1 more month to ensure you are healed, then get tested again for reassurance. Stay on the fruits and herbs!
• Use Food Grade hydrogen peroxide and distilled water to wash your fruits
• Herpes is not a virus. It is a parasitic that comes with a viral load. Always keep that in mind.
• Hydrogen water is beneficial, since it oxygenates the body. You can buy a nice one on Amazon for like $80 and you should only put spring water in it.
• Sea moss is actually bad for herpes, it does not help unless its purple sea moss but sea moss overall is not needed
• Greens slow down the herpes healing process, just stick to only l-lysine fruits. Only if the greens are juiced, then they are accepted.
• Hemp seeds and nuts slows down the healing process
• Yahki Awakened has a $400 parasite cleanse bundle with most of the herbs you need. Not sure if it's 2 months worth, but probably only 1 month's worth. Does not say on website
• Stay disciplined. The longer you stay on protocol, the shorter the amount of time it will take to cure yourself. No cheating. No caffeine, sugar, alcohol, processed foods, vegetables, no jacking off, nothing. Stay true to yourself.
• Everyday things are very important also…. For example the clothes you wear should be 100% organic cotton or linen (at least your underwear, socks, and shirts). Your toothpaste should be organic and no fluoride. Your soap/shampoo/lotion should be organic. Your toothbrush should be made out of bamboo. Your toilet paper should be bamboo and BPA free/Bleach free. Your everyday cleaning supplies should be organic oils. Laundry detergent should be organic. Drink out of glass not plastic. You should have a showerhead filter so you’re not showering in warm chemical tap water which your skin absorbs, believe it or not. You see how deep this goes? Everything nowadays is poison and affecting you and you don't even know it….
• If you live somewhere where you can do ozone therapy, by ALL MEANS do it. In general, ozone is introduced to the body either through intravenous infusion, ozone sauna, direct injection into specific body areas or via inhalation. It can also be delivered as a topical cream or gel applied directly to the skin. I think the ozone sauna is the best option.
• Do not drink store-bought fruit juices even if they’re organic. They are pasteurized and all it is is sugar and water now. You must juice the fruits yourself or find something that's “raw cold pressed juice.”
• Stay away from bleach, super super toxic. Just like I said too, make sure all your cleaning products are organic essential oils.
• Stay away from radiation as much as you can. Some examples would include not living near a 5G cell tower, not using your phone that much, putting your phone on airplane mode if it’s in your pocket, not sleeping near wifi routers, turning off your wifi routers during sleep even, don’t use your laptop on your lap, etc.
• Diseases are not real. All it is, is the body naturally healing itself by creating detoxification symptoms.
• Aqua Panna is the best spring water since it's in glass and contains no contaminants compared to other spring water. It is quite expensive though.
• A good organic all natural multi-purpose cleaner you can make yourself would be concentrated lemon juice, concentrated lime juice, 35% food grade hydrogen peroxide, and some spring water. Or you can do spring water, vinegar, and baking soda.
• A good organic natural deodorant would be just limes or lemons. Squeeze them and then rub them underneath your pits.
• Lymph Node massages are very good to clear you out. Could do them once a week, but it’s expensive, so 1-2 times a month is fine. But if you just go outside and jump up and down on a “rebounder” for 10-20 minutes you can get your lymph nodes moving.

Daily Health Routines

• Getting sunlight for at least 1 hour. Sunlight is very important, it is the source of all energy. Tan your whole body too if possible (meaning fully naked)
• Grounding for 1 hour to reduce inflammation (or just get organic cotton grounding bed sheets for $100)
• Utilize deep Breathing exercises to oxygenate the body
• Meditate each day/night for 15-30 minutes to calm the mind and body
• Say to the universe out loud, “I am cured of herpes” Speaking in the present tense is better than saying “I will” or “I can” because you are re-affirming to the universe that it’s already here, not in the future, because only the PRESENT exists. The past and future do not exist.
• If you are a man, semen retention is required. If you HAVE to ejaculate cause you're mentally weak, then do so once a week MAX.
• Sleep is very important. Should not be going to bed super late and getting at least 8-9 hours of good sleep a night. Optimally going to bed around 10pm-11pm and waking up around 7am-8am is optimal.
• Go on walks alone for 20-30 min. Let your thoughts flow. Listen to some synthwave and realize how blessed you are to be alive and breathing and outside.
• If you workout only go 2-3 times a week and do low weight high reps.

You were already drunk and wearing your red sweatshirt the night we met. My memory pairs it with a blue ball cap but I’m not sure if that’s a detail I’ve implanted from a photograph of you in that same sweatshirt. You were from Florida and fit this stereotype I had formed from working in hospitality to a tee. I lumped Floridians in with New Yorkers as abrasive, arrogant and rude. This wasn’t entirely fair but it brought out some sarcastic humor in me that deflected my own insecurities. I really don’t remember much of the evening until I partitioned the neighbor to score some coke.
I imagine sitting on the curb by the carport with you under the power lines. We look good side by side The lines would crackle in the moisture of the fog which somehow made the city feel bigger. We talked of philosophies and science and broken hearts and the care packages your mom would send you of baked goods to eat on the boat. That detail especially stands out to me now that you’re gone. We smoked cigarettes and explained the significance behind our tattoos. You insisted you were jaded and told me about Venice while you pulled the leather belt she’d given you for your birthday through the hoops of your chino pants.
It’s interesting to see as I write this how sad you were under that price-is-right-humor and Florida pride. We were both tethered to the bottle and relating too deeply to song lyrics. I was mad when you left, not because you were leaving but because you needed money for a Lyft.
I’d try to keep you at arms length, we’d talk on the phone about sadness; about alcoholism and as I withdrew you said you wanted to build me a blanket fort with a surprising sincerity. I was always so fixated on the ways we wouldn’t work; you living on a boat without transportation, my broken heart, not wanting to drink and not wanting to not drink. I had neglected to see until now how much you actually cared.
We’d let so much time elapse writing each other off and then I’d call or you’d text and we’d jump right back in. I have a lot of regrets around that last night together. I’d noticed those scars on your forearms with alarm before slipping into oblivion unable to revive my memory of your explanation. You did however revive my consciousness with a line on the plate. What a train wreck, I hated that we were in this situation; hearts otherwise occupied, adult children, scrambling for a ride. This new gal you’d met was willing to come get you.
The next day my spirit was gone and looking at where I was and where I wanted to be took the wind out of me. I was mad when you called. Again in hindsight I see you cared. I can hear you saying this happened to both of us.
I thought we were bonded by this shared experience. I hadn’t considered all the words and non words of our bodies entangled where my memory lapses. How could I not have seen this was the source of your care? I wasn’t present for you and now you aren’t present at all.
I still check your mom’s Facebook page from time to time to cry at a photo of your face and say your name in my mind. This was your most confusing exit yet. We were at arms length and at this time even out of touch and I’ve felt a lot of different things about it over the years. Mostly “by the grace of god, go I”. And in looking at that time with new clarity I must say I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t see your sincerity, your vulnerability and I didn’t appreciate your pain because I was too wrapped up in my own. I see you differently today. I see me differently this morning.

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Season 10 “Days of Fury” - Episode 4 “Aftermath of Lesser Chances”

Talek was not your everyday doctor. Few people would claim to have three different species as parents and somehow make it land true, and honestly few people would use ‘mother’ and ‘father’ to refer to four different people. Still, that gave the harchen both an unusual name and an unusual upbringing.
Talek had done more than just follow on mama Heren’s pawsteps, medical college on Colia was just the start. He served in the First Response Fleet, he saw the worst the galaxy had to offer, he saw more than one world meet its end, he had to operate in conditions even the yotul would break out the word ‘primitive’ for. He thought he would have gotten away from the battlefield finding work on Skalga. Solgalick’s Mercy was proving him wrong.
“Move, move, move” he jumps on the wall to dodge a moving stretcher, scrambling on all fours on it for a few steps before jumping out of it and continuing his sprint towards the admission area.
The admission area was usually an ordered thing, patients would come in and quickly and efficiently be directed to where they needed to go. It was still as ordered as it could be, which wasn’t much. Talek did not have time to look at the patients, he had been directly called for a reason- The screeching deafening everyone was the reason, a tilfish was strapped as well as he could be to a stretcher not fit for his body plan, screaming their lungs out in pain.
Without hesitation, Talek walks up to the gurney and brings his head closer to the tilfish’s thorax as he brings a paw to the side of his visor, the patient’s piercing screams inducing in him a minor headache “Did you give ‘em painkillers?!” he has to yell at a nearby nurse. He’d expected a report on the patient present in his visor’s data, but with this much intake all the information he could expect would come from the lungs of his coworkers.
The tilfish’s accelerated heartbeat could be felt in the vibration of their chest “Already, as much as we could but it doesn’t seem to work” the nurse answers. Talek brings a paw up to the side of his face, commanding again the visor he’s wearing and causing a single warning to come to life in his periphery ‘Busy’ is all it says.
With all of the possible sensor suites present here busy with other patients in triage he proceeds with the only tools he has left, his own self. He puts a paw over the tilfish’s chest, but got no further response. The next was touching their joints, but the screaming neither changes nor ceases. Further up is an attempt at touching their neck, aside from the strains of the screaming he can sense nothing else- But a minor spark of recognition strikes him. Very gently he brings a toe closer to their antennae.
While the tilfish does not respond for a moment, the instant his toe makes contact with the organ the tilfish’s head jerks aside, the scream turning into a gargle for a moment before it stops for a moment- Only for the patient to begin retching “Antennae connective tissue damage, overstimulation” those words are mostly to himself, he then raises a toe to his visor again “Operation room four, sensory deprivation gear, failing that a fucking water bucket will do” he howls over the renewed screams and begins pulling the stretcher.
Carrying the wailing tilfish he and the nurse quickly make their way through the corridors and up the elevator to the second floor, and from there it’s a quick trip to the operation room number four. In a moment his visor has synched up with the operation system, but their first action involves the least advanced object in the room: A green water bucket.
Talek swiftly grabs the bucket and brings it up, dunking the tilfish’s antennae on it. The patient calms down considerably, breathing hard and fast still, and gives them the chance they need to move him safely. As Talek holds the bucket in place the nurse carefully drags the stretcher until it connects with the operation theater, then he brings his face nearby the fluid “Can you hear me?”
The patient has an audible flinch, yet they manage to answer “Y-yes”
“You’ve suffered antennae damage, connective tissue” Talek keeps his voice steady and professional “The only solution is extensive regenerative treatment, it takes months, maybe over a year. But it won’t stop what you’re feeling right now”
“C-can you- Anything? The noise- THE BUZZING- I thought it’d go away-”
“Two choices, either a psychotropic or we cut the connective tissue. One will keep you dazed, similar to predator disease medicine, the other will cut you from your sense of smell and hearing.” This was hardly the worst bargain he had to offer to a patient, Talek couldn’t say they still moved him.
“Can’t- Argh” the tilfish winces again, their arms jerk against the restraint- They gag for a moment “Cut it out, CUT IT OUT” he was beginning to shout again.
It takes some effort to fully sedate the patient, Talek had to let go of the temporary sensory deprivation equipment, and the nurse had to physically restrain one of the tilfish’s arms until he could get an injector on their joint- One of the few vulnerable places unprotected by chitin. From there, it took a few more seconds until they had passed out and the operation could start.
For Talek’s skills it was simple, particularly with access to the hospital’s operating tools. He chose to use his own paws to guide the laser cutter, with the tiny camera set at the emitter as guidance he makes first an initial incision on the chitin protecting the connection, and then using weaker light a quick incision finishing the job the resonant frequencies had begun, fully severing that sensory organ’s connection to the rest of the body’s nervous system.
It takes little more than a few seconds to finish wrapping the exposed section with protective cloth “Take him to a free recovery room, send out a message for admin to book his treatment” the nurse needed no bedside manners, and they’re off as soon as the stretcher is detached from the operating theater.
That very same moment a red warning flashes on his visor, another emergency call, and he begins sprinting again. In the span of time it took for him to get the tilfish treated the corridors outside had become even more busy, there were people being treated for cuts and bruises right on the corridor, nurses were evaluating people and sending them to treatment rooms. Talek knew the distant noises and smell of ash were a simple psychosomatic response of his own body to the situation, unfortunately there were people in more need of aid than him right now.
More than once he had to use the wall climbing technique he’d honed so well to avoid interrupting anyone on the hall, and more than once he took advantage of his small stature to weave between longer sets of legs.
He arrives in time to see a stretcher being pulled in by a takkan nurse, in a trained move the nurse offers his arm to him and Talek hops up to get a better view of the patient. The sight in front of him was… Talek shakes his head, clearing the phantom mangling out of his sight and focusing on the wounded venlil on the stretcher. Orange stained the side of their head, their breathing was slow and ragged but little else could be seen at first glance.
It doesn’t take long for Talek’s visor to start showing more data as they approach one of the treatment rooms, as the sensors in the room spin to life an overlay comes over the venlil showing everything their thick fur was hiding, fractured bones in the leg, two broken ribs and most worryingly: Behind the closed lid of their left eye was nothing.
“Bone splints and foam, sealant gel” he states plainly for the nurse as he jumps off and reaches into the small tool cart. Busy as the hospital had become, not everyone had access to a full surgery suite and it’s not like he needed it right now. The first order of business was dealing with the eye.
First he lowers his head closer to listen to the patient’s breathing, then with care he opens the good eye to look at him and confirm the man’s unconscious state. Once done, he uses the same paw to open the damaged eye to find what is best described as a mushed orange paste in its place. The process of handling that was simple, slowly work to separate the damaged mass that was once an eye with a forceps, lift it and finally carefully snip off the optical nerve. By the time he had finished he just had to offer his paw out for the nurse to hand him the sealant gel, the translucent material used to coat the interior of the empty eyesocket to prevent infection.
As the nurse proceeded to wrap the eye, Talek progressed to the leg. With a quick hand and a shaver he removes the fur around the fracture as he analyzes the overlay from the sensors, he’s working almost on automatic at this point as his next step is to perform an incision on the skin granting him access to the muscle and bone beneath. The process to remove bone fragments is rapid for him, two dozen little fragments of bone that had become lodged in the muscle, and one major leg vein had to be sewn shut with bio-absorbable suture.
The next step was to realign the bone, then inject the bone foam in the fractures so they would heal rapidly. Next, closing the incision and stapling it closed and then slipping the splint around the leg. He stops for half a second staring at the advanced split he’d just slipped into the venlil’s leg, the equipment could adjust itself to the wearer according to set parameters to ensure the leg remained properly positioned until the bones had healed.
He used to have memorized the right parameters to input for a venlil, the system would adjust the rest to the details of the user. But now he had two sets of parameters to choose from, this man was here right now because there was this difference. Talek’s mind is blank for a moment, he had to make a decision right now as first response, and he inputs the old values.
Just focus on keeping them stable, he can fix himself later if wants. Also that’d make the legs uneven, why did you even hesitate?
He steps back from the stretcher “I’ll take him to the recovery ward, take a second doc” the nurse says as they leave. Talek… Would like to say he doesn’t need that second, but he does. He raises his paws up to his face, staring at the orange stains over his pure white scales… He’d grown so used to shifting into a white color to better see anything he’d need to clean that it had become his normal idle coloration.
Another warning on his visor tells him he can’t keep doing this for much longer, so he hurries to the washing station until his scales are white again. He doesn’t need to rush through the corridors this time, however, as the patient was being brought to the very same room he was in a second ago. And this time the warning came with a report, the influx of new victims must be slowing down if triage was finding time for at least a basic report over the system instead of just shouting something.
“Krakotl, female, young, broken bones, torn muscles, wing” he mutters to himself as he walks back to the room. It doesn’t take much longer until the venlil nurse drags the stretcher in, and a final detail about the patient that the report failed to mention: She was wet, completely soaked. Also, she was aware.
Quickly enough the sensor suite in the room was reading his patient, and Talek saw signs of nothing unusual. Or he did not for a fragment of a second, before his mind reminded him that the multiple fractures, torn flesh and lost feathers were supposed to be unusual. He quickly approaches the avian, apprising each wound- The arm had fractured in four places including the shoulder joint, from the damage whatever crushed her bones had proceeded to attempt to remove it by force leading to torn muscles and complete loss of functionality, she was cradling it close to her chest with the other wing. “What happened” he asks bluntly.
“T-the water…” she says, coughing immediately after. “I didn’t think water was so hard, it was like being hit with a car” she winces again, the involuntary shoulder jostling her arm “A-and the shocks…”
At that mention Talek comes closer to inspect the exposed skin of her wing, the water had managed to rip a great deal of feathers and flay her more sensitive skin, and in addition to that there was further markings indicative of electrical burns.
But those are older scars.
The first process Talek goes through is applying a local anesthetic as he explains the procedure about to happen “I will have to reset your bones first and foremost, it should be painless with this anesthetic” he doesn’t wait for confirmation, of course, before injecting the fluid on her wing. After a few seconds of wait for the medicine to work he gently holds the wing and feels along the arm bones until he finds the fractures. Simple and clean breaks, easily put back into position which won’t even need bone foam to heal quickly. No access to wing braces would ordinarily be an issue, however, combining the feather loss and the necessity to use treated bandages for the damaged skin makes using the bandaging as bracing an easy choice.
Then, it was time for the most difficult part, which he needed the stabilized wing for. The shoulder joint had thankfully mostly survived, the bones had their heads slightly damaged and the connective tissue was torn asunder, but nothing the body couldn’t fix in time. The process was easy enough here, first removing the first-aid sealant gel, then applying a small amount of bone foam on the heads of the bones, some regenerative gel to induce faster recovery of the connective tissue of the joint, then readjust the elbow into place and suture it closed.
By the time he’d finished he saw the krakotl hadn’t ceased staring at the process, seemingly unfazed at seeing her arm being stitched together. He takes a moment to look closer, analyzing her eye’s reactions to a small light, ensuring there is no possible cognitive damage. “Take her to the recovery ward” he says calmly.
“Th-thanks doctor” the krakotl says, and then coughs again.
“Just my job” Talek turns to the nurse “Check what she’s being fed, there’s some minor throat damage. She must have inhaled some of the water” he says before finally walking out of the room.
And then, an emergency call pings on Talek’s visor. He’s off through the corridors again, but this time there are fewer legs to weave through, and almost no obstructions on his path. The visor’s augmented reality guides him towards the right room, not like he didn’t already memorize the paths of the hospital. It was an operating room, cleaning up and getting ready took mere moments and soon he had made his way inside to be greeted with a human in the stretcher attached to the operating system.
The staff had already put a tube down his mouth, from the looks of it towards his respiratory system, but it was draining too much blood. By now his visor had synched with the sensors already, but just the peripheral gear wasn’t showing enough data for this, so with a simple paw movement he calls down a sensor arm from the ceiling and brings it closer to the human’s body to examine. The more detailed scan shows signs of blood buildup as well as fluid pressure in the chest cavity, so he quickly tears open the patient’s clothing with a scissor and is welcomed with a pale skin filled with a large blue-black patch.
Talek brings the sensor arm closer, keeping a close eye in the readouts… “Broken rib, punctured heart, pressure. I need a drain” he commands mechanically as he calls down a precision cutter from the ceiling- This time he’ll need to use mechanized assistance. As the staff hurries to bring the additional piece of gear he readies the sharpened cutter by the man’s chest, closes his mouth with certainty and initiates the incision. The pressure of the built up blood causes a small, temporary spray of blood to erupt from the initial incision that manages to stain the left side of his body but he continues nonetheless, opening up the human’s chest cavity and putting in the draining tube to remove the excess blood.
A rib had broken and the fragment had lodged itself in the man’s heart, though the bleeding was profuse the bone itself was doing a decent job at keeping most of the blood from spilling, his heart continued to beat in rhythm. The process was simple, in theory, and in practice as well but the execution would need to be both quick and precise.
First was preparing a manipulator arm to remove the bone piece from the heart, then using three other, slimmer, manipulators holding the edges of the wound he pulls out the bone fragment and commands the smaller manipulators to hold the wound closed. The loss of blood was minimal. The next step required suturing the wound tightly closed and applying an absorbable sealing tissue to prevent further blood loss. Will require followup, but everything that can be done for the wounded heart was done.
Then, the rib required attending. The fracture wasn’t clear, but not unrecoverable. The bone fragment could be re-placed in position, and the addition of bone foam and sealing tissue would ensure the rib would eventually recover, the severed cartilage would need to go unattended for now and might require further treatment.
Finishing the process, then, was to finally close up the skin of the patient and properly suture it, a process made much faster with the usage of the precision tools. Once done, he looks down at the human he’d been operating on, the crimson stains on his white scales, the clearly pained face of the unconscious man whose lungs were being drained of fluid buildup by a tube shoved down his threat.
Talek’s toes twitch, and he steps back from the stretcher so that the staff can move him away to the recovery ward “K-” the man’s voice fights against the tube on his throat “Kichi…” somehow still retaining some consciousness despite his state, but he can’t say anything else before he’s out of the room. But Talek had no reprieve, immediately another cart arrived into the room and was attached to the operation rig, but this one was even more worrisome.
He gives a command for the operation rig to send the current toolset for sterilization and replace them with a new clean set, for the few seconds the process took Talek stares at the new patient before him. The sort of patient every doctor fears, especially those working emergencies: A dossur.
A being so small is infinitely fragile, and dossur are famous among doctors for being a lifeform with only extremes. They could survive things that’d have killed larger people five times over, but anything that could cause them any damage would cause critical, nearly life-ending damage. There was no middle ground with them, and this woman seemed to be teetering towards the critical. Visibly, her outward wounds were her right leg, which had been crushed by some external force, and the right side of her torso had become a single massive bruise. The blood covering her, however, was red. But a sound was what called up Talek’s attention the most: That of her breathing.
He couldn’t use his senses for this and the tool suite had been swapped, so he lowers a scanner arm towards her and begins gathering information. The first thing to notice was that her leg’s bones weren’t broken, but instead completely pulverized beyond recovery, the bruise that was the right side of her body merely indicated whatever happened was pure blunt force as her innards indicated ruptured organs in that area from the impact- But despite all that the most worrisome were her lungs. The sensors’ imaging was showing her lungs working overtime and yet her breathing sounded just plain wrong and as if she wasn’t able to draw in enough breath.
There was no time to keep researching, she needed aid in breathing first and foremost, so Talek carefully uses a mechanized tube pushed through her mouth. Usually for larger people the tube could be manually inserted but for someone so small he decided to use one that had its own powered articulation as well as a micro camera to help with guidance, which had proven to be a wise decision as he could see the damage to her throat in the process.
There were quite a few plants that were mildly poisonous, and of course Talek knew that people of all sorts enjoyed such toxins. It was just a part of being people, some people simply enjoyed consuming irritants, a classic example being capsaicin. But the dosage is always important, and the effects such irritants cause vary between species, dossur in particular could suffer sores in their soft tissue from an excess of capsaicin. He had seen capsaicin poisoning on dossur before, but he had never seen the effects manifest themselves in the respiratory system and as he continued to push the respiratory tube down towards her lungs he saw more and more damage.
Talek had, this paw, finally seen something he had not seen before. This woman had inhaled enough capsaicin to damage her respiratory system- And if enough of it got into her blood flow, she would die. The clock was ticking and all the wounds that had built up on this woman prevented a proper treatment of the other.
“Prepare a dialysis machine, now! Make sure there is a filter for capsaicin!” Talek says to the staff with a mechanical voice.
He flicks his wrists and calls down the entire surgery equipment, sets it to maximum sensitivity and starts- This woman will need an external dialysis until her system has been purged of the literally deadly amount of capsaicin she had inhaled, but she couldn’t be put into a dialysis machine until the ruptured organs were re-stitched so the first order of business was initiating an incision on her torso, the process was quick and had machine-compensated precision.
Next, the damaged organs had to be sutured. There was more than one, the intestine had suffered damage, the bladder had ruptured but not been completely devastated and one of the kidneys was beyond saving, so he begins suturing quickly while one of the staff uses a suction tube to clean the pooling blood and humors. There wasn’t much time to do what was needed, the kidney had to be removed with a laser cutter, the intestine left to find its own position alone and the bladder needed a layer of absorbable cover to prevent a possible leaking. Anything else would have to wait until her blood had been cleansed.
The sutures on her skin were still professional, but they were quick. The next step was getting a good access point to her blood, one entrance and one exit. For the required volume, especially given their size, there were very few places the needles could find purchase- With machine-assisted precision he gently drives a very small, thin needle on the patient’s neck, and a second one on her waist. With the procedure done he steps back “Take her to dialysis, now” the staff detach the operation cart and start to move her away.
Talek stares at the dossur being moved, and without thinking brings a paw up to his visor- He couldn’t. Something in him wanted to know who this person was, something told him there was a story here, but he knew he shouldn’t. They were just victims, if they were anything else for him then he wouldn’t be able to work, if he cared then he wouldn’t be able to treat them well. He brings his paw away from his visor, and stares at it.
White scales stained red and green, sharp claws on the tip of terrifying digits. They’re no different from pieces of meat.
Talek shakes his head hard, then brings his paw to the side of his visor, summoning up the identification of the patient just as they’re about to bring the dossur out of the door. He stares at the nametag by her, ‘Kichi’ it says, and soon she vanishes past the door.
He continues to stare at the door as his breathing speeds up. But that process is short-circuited as another emergency signal is reported, he inhales a sharp breath and heads to the cleaning room as he commands the operating tools to cycle again.
By the time he had returned there was a new patient waiting, this one was a venlil with silver fur. No obvious external injuries, but his breathing was clearly troubled. “They got stickyfoam on their face” it was a human nurse that had brought them in “Sticky substance that turns solid, needs a special solvent.” The nurse holds a small canister out “First aid got him mostly breathing without need of a tracheostomy, but just barely”
Talek nods, once again calling down the surgical tools. The patient was quite clearly sedated, a necessity as he’d be panicking from the lack of breath. Talek took a second to recognize how often he had to operate on the airways of people this paw; it seems that whatever they were doing in the chaos outside aimed only at the most fragile parts of bodies, every wound had been failures of the most sensitive systems of the body.
This time the first step was unusual, the nurse needed to rig the solvent into the surgical tools. While the set of instruments at the tip of the tube meant to enter the patient included a spray for medicinal compounds it wasn’t made to normally utilize ad-hoc materials, but the nurse was inventive and jury-rigged a solution by replacing one of the anesthetic canisters with the the solvent, it suffered from a loss of pressure and that particular operating arm would need a complete maintenance cycle afterwards, but it worked.
Then, he began guiding the articulated tube down the venlil’s mouth. The process was slow, he needed to first spray the green mass that had solidified in many parts, from the roof of the mouth to the between teeth and under the tongue, before using the forceps and scissor tools to remove pieces that would be sucked out from the cavity by the suction tool.
Clearing the mouth was easy, and merely practice for the process later in more fragile parts. He then proceeded to guide the tube down the throat, he could see a small passage for air, but the blockage was easily ninety percent of the space of the throat. The process to soften, cut and remove the green mass continued to be slow and careful, though the position of the patient precluded any from falling further down the throat.
Some pieces did not let go with ease as regardless of how much care he had a few had reacted with the mucous of the throat, becoming firmly attached and eventually causing a wound when removed. Those were quickly treated with some superficial sealant gel and should lead to no more than discomfort when breathing and eating for a while.
When the process was completed, he finally slowly removes the tube from the patient’s mouth and waits. Slowly, he can hear the man’s breathing become fuller and less ragged. “I think this is the last serious case we got, doctor” the nurse looks down at him “Don’t know how you do it”
“I don’t either” Talek sighs with emotion “Get him to the recovery ward” he says, following him out of the room as he carries the stretcher. However, as they exit the operation room there is a venlil waiting out there, her silvery fur is of a different shade than that of the patient, she’s dressed in a strange set of black plates indicating she was probably one of the ones on the side of the law outside “Yes?” he says, with his professional tone.
“I… I just wanted to know how he’s doing…”
“Family?”
“N-no… No. It’s just- I… I caused that, and I need to know if he’s alright”
Talek shakes his head slightly, causing the venlil’s ears to fold back “Nothing long-term, the first response was fast enough to prevent any damage by hypoxia and cleaning up that substance wasn’t difficult. Please avoid doing the same again in the future”
“Y-yes… Yes… Thank you”
Talek waves dismissively at the officer before continuing to head out. He finds the corridors to be a lot more orderly now, how long had passed since this all began? He’d lost track. He passes by the admission area, finding it still full but no life-threatening wounds.
Then he walks outside, looking to the sides of the street. Behind him, Solgalick’s Mercy stood tall and unbroken, every other building around it a pile of rubble the buildings around surprisingly unblemished despite the damaged cars, upturned trashcans and copses littering the street. Off in the distance the city hall exterminator’s building was still blazing.
I wonder… When will I ever leave Lithan’s Orchard? Half the galaxy was not far enough to leave… Maybe I just have to accept I never will.
Once again he shakes his head to clear his thoughts, turns around, and heads back inside.
[ [FIRST] [NEXT>]
It is a misnomer to call them non-lethal, because the living body is a fragile thing, and even the gentlest touch can wreck havok on it's balance. And yet, at times, you must be firm, and harmful.
But even the least chances are nor impossible, and others will have to live with the consequences of your actions.

I already posted this on a different subreddit, but it did not get many comments, so I am reposting it here to see if anyone else has any input on this.
F (25) here. I've never used Reddit before, but my sister does and has gotten some good advice from it. I don't know where else to turn for help, so here I am.
I've never wanted to drive, nor have I ever taken an interest in it. I've never felt ready, if I'm being honest. Learning to drive is a sign of freedom and independence for many people, but for me, having control over a giant metal machine that has the possibility of killing you or others if you mess up has always been a scary thought. Even now, I still don't have the desire to do it. In this day in age Uber or public transport exists, so there are definitely other options if I somehow don't learn. But I'm only trying to learn now because knowing how to drive would make things a bit easier on me when I move out of my parents' house and in with my boyfriend.
I got my permit in January of this year, and I passed the exam with flying colors. The only thing that's keeping me between me and a license is learning how to drive. And this is where the problem comes in.
I am a person who suffers from severe anxiety and depression. And although I'm currently being medicated and seeing a therapist for both issues, it doesn't seem to be helping me too much. The anxiety is especially persistent whenever the topic of driving is present. It took me a few months after getting my permit to even have the courage to ask my mother to take me to a parking lot to learn the basics. And though I did relatively fine for my first time, I had a huge meltdown in the car. I couldn't stop shaking, my heart was palpitating so fast, and I started crying uncontrollably. I don't know if I can do that again. Even now, the thought of being behind the wheel makes my stomach churn. My anxiety is so bad at this point that I feel as though I'd be a hazard on the road. Not only that, but I have such poor spacial awareness. I don't know when I should turn or the distances I am from objects. I'm not sure if this is due to me having mild autism or if it's just my nerves or even perhaps an eye issue, but the fact that I can't determine exact distances or when to park and turn is anxiety-inducing regardless.
I'm currently taking a break from learning for a few months per my therapist's request. But I want to be prepared for when I do start learning again. Any advice on how to overcome my issues would be greatly appreciated. I have until January of next year before my permit expires, and if possible, I would like to learn before then.

\** Part 1*
The sun blazed fiercely over the vast, sandy expanse, reminiscent of ancient Egypt's grandeur. The air was thick with anticipation, an almost palpable hum reverberating through the sea of onlookers gathered around a colossal arena. The ominous music echoed in the background, a haunting melody that heightened the tension and sent chills down the spines of those present.
Two god men, indistinguishable from mortals in appearance but radiating an aura of immense power, stood at the center of the arena. Their names and origins were whispered among the crowd, inspiring both reverence and fear. Each had amassed a legion of devoted supporters, their fervent cheers and chants creating a cacophony that filled the air, vibrating with the intensity of their collective faith.
At the heart of the arena lies a labyrinthine maze, a complex network of narrow corridors, winding pathways, and hidden traps. The sun blazes fiercely overhead, casting harsh, unwavering light on the sands below, creating an atmosphere of intense heat and blinding brightness. The outer walls are adorned with intricate carvings and ancient runes, telling the stories of past champions and legendary battles. There is more that meets the eye, the Arena is not just a physical battleground but also a place of deep mystical significance. It is said to be a convergence point of ley lines, channels of magical energy that crisscross the world-453.
The god men, each bearing a unique weapon, faced each other with intense, unwavering gazes. One held a wooden stake - a straight, cylindrical piece of dark, weathered wood, roughly the length of a man. At first glance, the stake appears deceptively simple. Despite its unadorned appearance, the stake emanates a quiet, almost ominous power. While the other wielded a long, gilded sword, its golden blade gleaming in the harsh sunlight, a relic of ancient craftsmanship imbued with an ethereal glow. Intricate engravings run along the length of the blade, depicting scenes of celestial battles and ancient runes that shimmer with a soft, surreal glow.
Gravitus, the god man with the green aura, emanating strength and resilience like a rock, arrived atop a massive, elephant-like creature. Yet this was no ordinary elephant; it bore the appearance of a commando dragon, its scales shimmering like polished jade and its eyes fierce and calculating. The ground trembled under its weight as it approached, each step a thunderous drumbeat heralding its master's arrival. Gravitus himself was a towering figure, his muscles rippling under his emerald-hued armor. His eyes glowed with a steady, unyielding dark green light, and his movements were deliberate and powerful, every step echoing his indomitable will.
Opposite, Zephyros, the god man with the blue aura, exuding quickness and agility, descended from the sky on the back of an extraordinary bird. This bird had the head of a tiger, fierce and majestic, with sharp, intelligent eyes, and the sinuous body of a snake, its movements fluid and graceful like flowing water. It landed with a swift, silent elegance, its presence no less imposing than its counterpart, its feathers glistening in the sunlight like sapphires. Zephyros himself was lean and lithe, his form seemingly built for speed. His golden cobalt armor glinted like the ocean's surface under the sun, and his eyes sparkled with an intense, restless energy. His every movement was swift and precise, a blur of motion that left afterimages in his wake.
Zephyros points his golden relic, Vinderrblade at Gravitus and commences his attack windstep and strikes at his rival. Windstep, a unique ability of the golden sword, that channels Zephyros’ auro allowing him to move at incredible speed but leaving behind an afterimage that misleads his opponent. Gravitus was no guest to this attack, He knew every trick that Zephyros would engage in. He slams his wooden stake into the ground and launches himself into the air and land on the tall tower of the maze. As the fight commenced, the god-men moved with a speed and grace that seemed otherworldly. The stake and the sword clashed with a thunderous roar, sending sparks flying and echoing through the maze. Each strike was a testament to their strength and skill, yet it was impossible to discern which one harbored evil intention. Their movements were a blur, a deadly dance that left the spectators in awe.
The maze proved to be as much a challenge as their opponent. Its narrow corridors and hidden traps tested their agility and wit. Supporters on both sides watched with bated breath, their loyalties unwavering despite the uncertainty of the gods' true natures. Every twist and turn of the maze brought new dangers, from concealed pitfalls to walls that shifted without warning, making the arena a living, breathing entity in their epic confrontation.
The ominous music swelled, its eerie notes weaving through the air, amplifying the drama unfolding below. Every clash of the wooden stake and the golden sword, every strategic maneuver within the maze, was underscored by the relentless, haunting melody. The music seemed to respond to the battle itself, its rhythm accelerating with each fierce exchange, its volume rising with the stakes.
As the battle raged on, the gods showed no signs of fatigue. Zephyros darted through the maze with lightning speed, evading traps and striking with precision. His movements were a blur, each step calculated, each strike aimed to incapacitate. Gravitus moved with unyielding force, each blow like a hammer, and every defense as solid as a rock. His strength was unparalleled, his endurance seemingly infinite as he met each attack with unwavering resilience.
The sun began to set, casting long, dramatic shadows across the arena. The intensity of the fight only grew as the twilight enveloped the battleground. The green and blue auras of the gods glowed brighter against the darkening sky, their lights dancing like ethereal flames. The maze, now bathed in the golden hue of dusk, seemed to come alive, its secrets and traps more menacing in the dim light. Their mounts roared and shrieked from the sidelines, their presence a constant reminder of the otherworldly power at play. The commando dragon stomped and bellowed, its roar shaking the very foundation of the arena, while the tiger-headed bird hissed and snapped, its serpentine body coiling with anticipation.
Suddenly, Zephyros leaped back, his eyes narrowing as he prepared to unleash one of his most powerful abilities. He raised VinderrBlade high, and with a swift, precise motion, channeled his aura through the sword, releasing a brilliant flare of light—Celestial Flare. The arena was momentarily blinded by the radiant burst, an explosion of light so intense it seemed to turn night into day. Gravitus staggered, his vision overwhelmed by the blinding light. Zephyros seized the opportunity and darted forward with lightning speed. Concealing VinderrBlade, Zephyros slammed his hand into TerrarThorn, intending to drive the wooden stake from Gravitus's grip. Gravitus, his senses returning, reacted just in time to block the strike. The force of the impact, however, was immense. The collision with TerrarThorn sent a shockwave throughout the arena and shattered Zephyros’ right hand, bones breaking and flesh tearing from the immense force. Driven by a surge of determination, pain and adrenaline, Zephyros unsheathed VinderrBlade. In a swift, fluid motion, he drove the sword into Gravitus's chest. The blade pierced through the emerald armor, finding its mark. Gravitus gasped, his eyes wide with shock and pain as the celestial energy of VinderrBlade coursed through his body.
\*** End of Part 1*

\*** Part 1*
The sun blazed fiercely over the vast, sandy expanse, reminiscent of ancient Egypt's grandeur. The air was thick with anticipation, an almost palpable hum reverberating through the sea of onlookers gathered around a colossal arena. The ominous music echoed in the background, a haunting melody that heightened the tension and sent chills down the spines of those present.
Two god men, indistinguishable from mortals in appearance but radiating an aura of immense power, stood at the center of the arena. Their names and origins were whispered among the crowd, inspiring both reverence and fear. Each had amassed a legion of devoted supporters, their fervent cheers and chants creating a cacophony that filled the air, vibrating with the intensity of their collective faith.
At the heart of the arena lies a labyrinthine maze, a complex network of narrow corridors, winding pathways, and hidden traps. The sun blazes fiercely overhead, casting harsh, unwavering light on the sands below, creating an atmosphere of intense heat and blinding brightness. The outer walls are adorned with intricate carvings and ancient runes, telling the stories of past champions and legendary battles. There is more that meets the eye, the Arena is not just a physical battleground but also a place of deep mystical significance. It is said to be a convergence point of ley lines, channels of magical energy that crisscross the world-453.
The god men, each bearing a unique weapon, faced each other with intense, unwavering gazes. One held a wooden stake - a straight, cylindrical piece of dark, weathered wood, roughly the length of a man. At first glance, the stake appears deceptively simple. Despite its unadorned appearance, the stake emanates a quiet, almost ominous power. While the other wielded a long, gilded sword, its golden blade gleaming in the harsh sunlight, a relic of ancient craftsmanship imbued with an ethereal glow. Intricate engravings run along the length of the blade, depicting scenes of celestial battles and ancient runes that shimmer with a soft, surreal glow.
Gravitus, the god man with the green aura, emanating strength and resilience like a rock, arrived atop a massive, elephant-like creature. Yet this was no ordinary elephant; it bore the appearance of a commando dragon, its scales shimmering like polished jade and its eyes fierce and calculating. The ground trembled under its weight as it approached, each step a thunderous drumbeat heralding its master's arrival. Gravitus himself was a towering figure, his muscles rippling under his emerald-hued armor. His eyes glowed with a steady, unyielding dark green light, and his movements were deliberate and powerful, every step echoing his indomitable will.
Opposite, Zephyros, the god man with the blue aura, exuding quickness and agility, descended from the sky on the back of an extraordinary bird. This bird had the head of a tiger, fierce and majestic, with sharp, intelligent eyes, and the sinuous body of a snake, its movements fluid and graceful like flowing water. It landed with a swift, silent elegance, its presence no less imposing than its counterpart, its feathers glistening in the sunlight like sapphires. Zephyros himself was lean and lithe, his form seemingly built for speed. His golden cobalt armor glinted like the ocean's surface under the sun, and his eyes sparkled with an intense, restless energy. His every movement was swift and precise, a blur of motion that left afterimages in his wake.
Zephyros points his golden relic, Vinderrblade at Gravitus and commences his attack windstep and strikes at his rival. Windstep, a unique ability of the golden sword, that channels Zephyros’ auro allowing him to move at incredible speed but leaving behind an afterimage that misleads his opponent. Gravitus was no guest to this attack, He knew every trick that Zephyros would engage in. He slams his wooden stake into the ground and launches himself into the air and land on the tall tower of the maze. As the fight commenced, the god-men moved with a speed and grace that seemed otherworldly. The stake and the sword clashed with a thunderous roar, sending sparks flying and echoing through the maze. Each strike was a testament to their strength and skill, yet it was impossible to discern which one harbored evil intention. Their movements were a blur, a deadly dance that left the spectators in awe.
The maze proved to be as much a challenge as their opponent. Its narrow corridors and hidden traps tested their agility and wit. Supporters on both sides watched with bated breath, their loyalties unwavering despite the uncertainty of the gods' true natures. Every twist and turn of the maze brought new dangers, from concealed pitfalls to walls that shifted without warning, making the arena a living, breathing entity in their epic confrontation.
The ominous music swelled, its eerie notes weaving through the air, amplifying the drama unfolding below. Every clash of the wooden stake and the golden sword, every strategic maneuver within the maze, was underscored by the relentless, haunting melody. The music seemed to respond to the battle itself, its rhythm accelerating with each fierce exchange, its volume rising with the stakes.
As the battle raged on, the gods showed no signs of fatigue. Zephyros darted through the maze with lightning speed, evading traps and striking with precision. His movements were a blur, each step calculated, each strike aimed to incapacitate. Gravitus moved with unyielding force, each blow like a hammer, and every defense as solid as a rock. His strength was unparalleled, his endurance seemingly infinite as he met each attack with unwavering resilience.
The sun began to set, casting long, dramatic shadows across the arena. The intensity of the fight only grew as the twilight enveloped the battleground. The green and blue auras of the gods glowed brighter against the darkening sky, their lights dancing like ethereal flames. The maze, now bathed in the golden hue of dusk, seemed to come alive, its secrets and traps more menacing in the dim light. Their mounts roared and shrieked from the sidelines, their presence a constant reminder of the otherworldly power at play. The commando dragon stomped and bellowed, its roar shaking the very foundation of the arena, while the tiger-headed bird hissed and snapped, its serpentine body coiling with anticipation.
Suddenly, Zephyros leaped back, his eyes narrowing as he prepared to unleash one of his most powerful abilities. He raised VinderrBlade high, and with a swift, precise motion, channeled his aura through the sword, releasing a brilliant flare of light—Celestial Flare. The arena was momentarily blinded by the radiant burst, an explosion of light so intense it seemed to turn night into day. Gravitus staggered, his vision overwhelmed by the blinding light. Zephyros seized the opportunity and darted forward with lightning speed. Concealing VinderrBlade, Zephyros slammed his hand into TerrarThorn, intending to drive the wooden stake from Gravitus's grip. Gravitus, his senses returning, reacted just in time to block the strike. The force of the impact, however, was immense. The collision with TerrarThorn sent a shockwave throughout the arena and shattered Zephyros’ right hand, bones breaking and flesh tearing from the immense force. Driven by a surge of determination, pain and adrenaline, Zephyros unsheathed VinderrBlade. In a swift, fluid motion, he drove the sword into Gravitus's chest. The blade pierced through the emerald armor, finding its mark. Gravitus gasped, his eyes wide with shock and pain as the celestial energy of VinderrBlade coursed through his body.
\*** End of Part 1*

Previously on Tales of Arcadia Adventures: Lance Holtman and Elijah Pepperjack were investigating on the origins of a mysterious amulet that spoke only to Lance. But, they fell asleep after a long night of research, only to then be woken up by a mysterious voice exclaiming; "Master Lance!!"
Now cutting back to the present, Lance and Eli both woked up to the sound of the voice, looked around and couldn't find or see anything. Lance told Eli to turn on the lights and that's when they see Blinky and Arrrgh excited to meet their new and first ever human Trollhunter. Eli screams in fear as Lance shuts him to not cause any panic and calming him by saying that they haven't eated them yet. Lance out of curiosity asks them what do they want? And Blinky responds:
"Master Lance, you have been given a big responsibility and purpose. You are chosen as the Trollhunter, a hero destined to protect the world from evil and be the bridge between Trollkind and Humanity. I know this is a lot of information to acknowledge, but it is big enough to fit in that small head of yours."
Lance out of disbelief responds: "Okaaay? Eli, slap me in the head cuz I might be dreaming." Eli then slaps him and this confirms that this is in fact, NOT a dream. Trolls exist. A magical amulet chose him to be a guardian and now, his chances of living in Arcadia normally are gone. Lance then replies: "how will I know it's time to be... you know, a hero to troll...kind?" Blinky then says: "Because Lance, with great power comes great purpose, given by destiny itself." "Destiny?" "Yes Master Lance, destiny. But fear not. All will come clear when the amulet responds to the incantation." "What incantation?" Arrrgh then says: "You'll see..." As the mysterious trolls vanish out of sight back to their homes, Lance and Eli try to sleep again, but Lance is still obnoxious of the amulet and the existence of Trolls while Eli is excited because his theories were true. He stayed awake the whole night creating theories while Lance was asleep and woke up to an aura emited by the amulet. Lance then, still sleepy, grabs the amulet and sees some incantation. Lance then reads the following incantation, knowing nothing of what it'll do, but he feels safe and curious to try out and he speaks: "For the Glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to Command." The room shakes as a light emerges from the amulet and goes to Lance's heart. Then, Lance levitates and a mysterious troll-like armor covers him and adjusts to his size, making it more fittable for a human. And a sword is summoned from his hand as Lance is confusingly amazed and Eli faints due to shock, happines and awesomeness.
The scene then cuts to Strickler and Nomura reunited in the cannals, speaking of the amulet and how it chose a human. Behind their backs, Bular hears this and swears to kill the human and feed his flesh to Gunmar. But Strickler tells him to not take action for now. They need to wait for the Trollhunter to be alone. And decided the next day to be the day of the end Trollhunter's Legacy.
And thus, chapter 3 of Tales of Arcadia Adventures has ended. It's been a while since I didn't posted this since I gave up a little, but as I lived everyday with this fandom it reminded me how I loved this series and how I wanted to make a self-insert OC story cuz, I enjoyed the series so much that I WANTED to be a part of that series. I wanted to live the adventures that these characters went through but, in a different point of view with some similar events but a few changes. But don't worry. I'll do my best to cook well and maje an awesomesauce buffet.

I dont know who will read this, but i just have to get this off my chest.
TL:DR at bottom
A bit of a backstory: I am 19 right now. 11 days from 20. During my life, i have had it all. The best family behind me anyone could ever ask for. They raised me well, gave me all the support and love humanly possible.
I grew up in an eastern european smalltown, been always above average, and slightly autistic at least, lets admit it. The typical gifted white suburban kid syndrome: never ever ran into problems during my life, everything seemd straight forward, always knew what i shold do with my life. During my blunder years, i have developed some pretty bad traits: a never had to struggle in my life for anything. Every single thing was handed to me on a silver plate. I really am just the luckiest person alive: always done well mentally, academically, and socially. Read the book once before when the teacher said put away your books, aced every exam still, after elementary(8 years here), got accepted to one of the best middle school of my country.
Experienced all the perks of middle school and the freedom of doing whatever the fuck you want during the stupidest years of your life, 15-19. And i did. Of course, procrastinating and not giving a fuck have not lifted me above average as in elementary, but i was still in the middle of the group. Again: everything others sweated blood for, handed to me on a silver plate. Straight goals in my life, stable personality, many friends, altough i still had my innocent nerdy kid persona, which was challenged majorly during the primal environment of a middle school coeducated dorm, but was never particularly bullied, countless friends and family, support and appreciation for who i was, altough i was just being as stupid as a middleschooler is.
Then covid came, and it somehow turned everything around. Not so many friends, no such concrete stable confidence, still being a lazy fucker who somehow lucked his way through everything. also during this time, i kinda started falling off, got into weed, not jsut alcohol, started going out and socialising less, falling off, but i had a great time, thinking about those times fondly, altough not so dearly. Rocked my way through the end exams of middle school with some last minute studying, i mean i absolutely still pulled from my little finger what others couldn't with teeth, tears and blood: got accepted into university as a dentist, still feeling like i am the top of the word.
During the last true summer break of my life, i started doing food delivery. 11:30am till 22-23:00 pm sometimes. During this time, the penjamin really took off in my country, weed being illegal but alternatives, such as Hexahidrocannabinol (HHC) being legal, available in a pen, just like an Elfbar: no neet to sneak out, to talk with the plug(some of you know arranging a meeting with those fuckers isnt as easy as it seems at all lmao), just getting high while laying in my bed. During this time, my weed addiction spiralled out of control, i got high every single night, this being my "well deserved downtime": just existing in my own little world in my bed, for 2 months. Those 4 years really did turned my personality to someone who isn't fit for a course that puts "Dr." in front of your name, this wil be important later.
Before the university, there is a social event hosted for us juniors called "junior camp", where you really are supposed to meet new people, and lay the basis of your entire uvicersity social life. And i took the penjamin(like 4th one in 2 months) with me. Now for those of you who dont know, weed can be a nice social drug, taken with moderation. If you get "schwasted, wake n baked" every day, the devils lettuce really puts you into your own world. No ambitions, no will to progress, just existing in your own little world, being fine as fuck with things as it is. Still had the best memory of my life though: being high as fuck in a water park they organised for us, literally youngsters in their prime, like 1500 of us, just being ourselves in the biggest pool party of the country. What i spent it doing: weed and cigarette breaks, taking slides, which literally felt like descending to hell, and walking around, aimlessly, not giving a fuck about the 1,5k people who came here to meet me and socialise, barely communicating with them, floating in my own world. This, and watching tje closing firework while being high are the best memories of my life until this day, guys if you can, take water slides and watch fireworks while being high, its definitely worth it.
And then came the first oath to myself that I've broken since then: that i will do a conversion of Paul, really focusing on the most important thing in my life: becoming a dentist, which is, besides helping people, is a ticket on first class to upper middle class, for someone from a bloodline of the poorest eastern european easants you can imagine. It takes 4 generations to break out of poverty, and i am the 4th. All the blood and sweat of my ancestors who worked their asses out, slaving away for the communist, them capitalist system, only for their kids to someday, amybe havve the chance i do hae right, now, and I am currently fucking up.
Now for those of you who dont know, university really is the most liberal form of education on the planet: you finally get your own timetable, the only mandatory attendance being the "practices", which you could just get through without putting anything on the table, and the lectures where they actually teach you university shit, not having a mandatory attendance, so who gives a fuck?
This gets us to the University: the first 2 weeks, i was being the typical student: al the lectures, learning from day to day, putting myself there in possibly the most alien environment i have ever been during my life. And turns out, i wasn't ready for the maturity and devotion a serious practice like dentistry takes. Man, i will literally be healing other people, everyones been to the dentist, and to get there, standing above your open mouth: Thats not something what is handed on a silver plate. No matter how smart, gifted, or special you think you are: this will only be achieved with tooth and nails. And i wasn't ready, not the slightest.
This is the point where i really started descending to the level of a fast food worker(no offence, which i was too): the first 3 months can be described with one word: Weed. no studying at all, just smoking that shit, feeling the buzz, it got to the point where i couldnt fall asleep without being hihg. Quite literally, i couldn'T imagine laying in bed, just...laying. IN november, i had it all came down on me, had a small breakdown, took the second oath i have broken: that i will change. This was the 11th of November, 2023
I cut back on weed, started attending lectures, realised that i have no fucking idea what the fuck are they talking about, so whats the point of attending? 3 more weks, sometimes begging to 5-6 different plugs, just to get my dose. Then came the so-called "exam period": where they excpt you to account for what you have "learned" during the "period of diligence". Of course, you can ace all your exams in literally 2 weeks, but for me, i was at diggind the foundation, while others were building the roof, already.
3rd oath: i will put my best, really gonna study my ass off for this one, having no plans whatsoever, just getting through somehow, like i always did. I think this is the time where i have made the first real steps towards maturity: admitting my parents that i havent done shit, and the chance of failure is around 90%. They gave me the encouragement i needed, realy got back on track, and pulled my first half year. So much so, that i got a study scholarship: 13k HUF, 36 USD/month, lower middle class scholarship, but still, that meant im in the top 10 percent of students. Yet again, by partying all yer, doing everything in the last moments.
4th oath: after these few weeks of hell, i will really put myself there, study as the year goes along, being ready and up-to*date with everything. Like the adult i am
For 1 week, this really worked out. studies for hours every day, being with my "new friends": fellow dental students, whom i had a really good start with, but now, arent really close pals. They have had a complete change, a real 180 in their life: being out in a new environment, gangs and friend groups really started forming, and i was there sometimes, having a blast with them, but you know: not really a part of the gang, just the chill, stoner, pretty stupid streets dude, never being up to date, never really giving a serious fuck about them, still smoking weed and drinking with my old middleschool friends. They naturally started inviting me less and less, and slowly fell into the group of a workplace friend, who you really dont just meet after work, you know. Now this might just be my insecurity speaking, i literally have a 2 week vacation fixated with them to the beaches of Croatia, but yeah, just a chill dude whos around sometimes, not *the gang*
And then came the wrost 6 weeks of my life. During my all afternoon studying sessions, i started noticing a slight tingling in my legs and feet, and my visual snow, which ive always had for some degree, starting putting itself into second gear. I even jokingly told one of my friends who happened to study with me: "Man, i might have gotten some real nerve damage from all the weed and fake penjamins, a-ha-ha".
During the next few days, hell unfolded: imagine the worst kind of buzzing, not the gentle weed buzzingm but a genuinely alarming one, an impending sense of doom, and pretty serious unvellness: during an anatomy lecture about the cranial nerves. Figured a snus might help: stuffed a Killa cold mint(european snus is generally stronger than Zyn, this particular one being 4times as strong as the stongrst Zyn, and its still pretty mid in eastern europe lmao). Hell broke loose. If you are familiar with trip reports, i have went trhough something very similar to a bad trip, almost had to run out of the lecture, in front of the teacher and 60 of my classmates beceuse i genuinely thought im gonna die. Went out after surbibing the lecture, ambling around for 2 hours, walking to a pharmacy 45 minutes away and back, speaking with my parents, being in a complete panic which just made things worse.
This went on for a week, then i got to the doctor. The anatomy practice was always the low point: the best teacher of the institute explaining how a human body works, and i was shaking in a corner, not falling into the deepest panic attack i have ever had was taking up all my energy. Drumming with my leg,s counting the tiles on the floor again and again, not paying attention about some of the most important words ever said to me in my life. Went to the doctor that friday finally, and got good words that i am really studying anatomy, i must have known that the innervation of the top of the limbs and and the feet are completely different, so my CNS works just fine, but im describing the most common symptoms of stress induced anxiety. Also told him about my ever worsening visual snow: imagine those old TV-s who had no signal, and displayed what we called "ant football". That is my life, especially when i look at the sky, which was a thing i admired dearly: The giant cloud, not abstructed by any mountain, flowing, and ever changing, still are the most beautiful thing for me, compared with the mind.blowing sunsets we have here, in the great plains. Being robbed of that put me even deeper. The 75mg pregabalin i got described, once a day and night, havent done anything at all. INstead, they amplified my brain fog, the tingling and buzzling, and the feeling of looming dread. I havent known this at the time, so sometimes i took my daily two before the anatomy sessions, which made them truly like hell. Having to walk out multiple times in a span of 1,5 hours of the lesson, just to simply breathe. If someone closed the door of the dissecting room, all hell broke loose, i couldn't breathe. I was bumping into people on the way there and back, being so disoriented due to basically being drugged. Talked about my mother about this, she went through literally the same hell, while attempting university, just like his brother, my Godfather, who was a border guard during the East-German refugee crysis, having to shoot live munition centimeters in front of the feet of pregnant women during the fall of the iron courtain. And this was a true and horrific mental breakdown, a literal *Idegösszeomlás*, akai burnout
So long story short: missed the most crucial 8 weeks of the semester, where we were told in the beginning: if you miss a week, you are done for. The last parts of the period of diligence were spent studying like hell, with my symptoms greatly improvving: attended parties with the dentist gang, smoked weed again, and just laid the foundations for the period of exams, actually studying like hell, like i always wanted to, AND I STILL ACED IT, but with the looming over me the sword of damocles.
Now thinking back, i could've made it. I really cold have. I still can. I completed every single subject i could in the diligence period, cell biology being the hardest, I barely passed that subject with a "2", basically a B-, this will be very important later. The last exam date is at the 7th of july, but with 6 weeks for only the anatomy, and basically the chemistry of 5 years, thats should be enough, eh? Yeaahh, yet another broken oath, spent a week doing nothing, weed, youtube, and old friends, while everyone leraned their asses off. Started learning too, and i took it seriously. But any students, you know how it is:

alarm set at 7:30 am.
10 minutes of snooze, every single day, the next time i wake up more rested than i should have been after 10 minutes, i check the clock, 8:50AM.
Awesome, get out of bed and shower. Check the time again: 11AM.
Cool, the whole day ahead of me. Just a siiiingle youtube video, while i pass the morning fatigue and the rapid morning hearthbeat of 5 years of chainsmoking, yet another amazing dedication of my life.
Then its 12AM, time to dinner! Post dinner fatigue is exactly a 30min video, 12:30PM, imma begin studying.
Next time i look at the clok, its 14:27. I really lock in until 6pm, then my parents cone home. I talk with them for what feels like 20-25 minutes.
Look at the clock again. 20:21PM. How the fuck did the whole fucking day passed again? i truly lock in for the rest of the day
23:35, i can't anymore. Starting to watch trash streams on youtube, braincells dying every second
Time spent with studying: 2-3 hours.
Every. Single. Fucking. Day.

Then i got the worst news i have ever gotten
Decided to check into the E-uni managament system of my country. "You have an offered grade, you can accept it *here*. Click link. "you can't accept, you have an exam applification of this subject". So this was the first semester where they made the application to the different exams at different dates open at March instead of the end of May, so students can "pre-plan their whole semester", the backstory of this is some uni drama equal in lenght of this post *hungarian text-* (Akinek esetleg volt dolga a Debreceni Egyetem Anatómiai-, Szövet-, és Fejlődéstani intézetével, az pontosan tudja miről beszélek lmao, a többiek úgysem értenék, H***igeci),
So, remember about my offered grade about cell biology? Wel, you have to accept it, because it LITERALLY MEANS THEY OFFERED IT AND YOU CAN DECLINE IT, this is stragiht up ez shit, of course who was the hero, who forgot to do this 5 seconds thing? My pretty faced self. All the while having an exam booked for the 28th of may, which obviously had passed, and i jsut realized this now, because the university e-administration site, which you should check every day for like 10 times, havent been opened by me for a month. And in my country, no matter what grade you get offered, if you take an exam and dont attend, thats automatically a failure overwriting literally any grade you had before. And i really put in the work. Really did got the offered grade, which means 55% on 2 intersemester exams, which both of them are hell. And all undone because im too fucking lazy and stupid to open a fucking website. Because i havent declined the offered grade, and this is the first year they implemented the early exam booking, i still have hope that the email i have written towards Students affairs will have an effect, and i will be able to accept the offered grade. We are talking about a subject where if you do have to take the exam, there is a 90% failure rate. 90. fucking. percent. I have 1 month to learn the Central Nervous System(at least i know that mostly by now), and the complete human body as it is from the shoulders upwards, embriology, histology of the semester, and 1 ENTIRE YEAR of university level chenistry. Im fucked already as it is, cell biology by itself would take 3 weeks of no life learning JUST TO HAVE A CHANCE, which i have completed, and willingly, and ignorantly have thrown away.
What happens if i fail? Well, the state pays 12 active and 3 passive semester. The course is 10 semesters, so i can passivate and then retry, and still have a chance like this once more, before falling out of State Sponsored Scholarship. A semester is 1,3 million HUF, 5 months on minimum wage if you dont eat, sleep, and save 100%. PER SEMESTER. So the world wont collapse, buti would lose everyone i met during university, dropping to a class of strangers, being the failed kid, so laying the path from the best kinda uni life to the worst, in terms of connections and social life. My family knows about my mental health, even my conserative KGB grandparents are very supportive, but i wouldn't be able to stand the shame myseelf.
Had an eye watering hours long convo with a genuine friend about my life, and that made me realise im still aint shit, things reall have to change. this is why im typing this, mainly for my own self. As the first page of a diary im planning on starting, to never forget the feeling of being in the literal bottom right now. I dont except anyone to read this, idk why im even posting this, i dont even except any advice, but ofc if you have made it this far, thank you for dwelving into the life of a hungarian smalltown trash, hope you can learn
Not gonna reread this fucking yapping, sry for the typos and language, english isn't my first one
So this was it guys, my Magnum Opus of literature, the biggest yapping session of my life so far. Still spent 1,5 hours typing this even on my pc, instead of studdying, on 1,5mg alprazolam(xanax benzo), about to smoke a jo. Yet another broken oath
TL:DR: Failed to mature up for a hardcore branch of university, and a silly mistake will destroy my entire semester, and im still not studying, typing this

Maybe it's the hopes or expectations I had after the first episode, but I can't stop watching this show despite the fact that so much of this show frustrates me is the characters.

• Autumn... I can't decide if I like Imogeen as an actor, or if I just hate how good her acting is in this show. I can't stand her character, and after watching her kiss like a bear mauling/trying to get it's lips around a jar of honey in S1E7, I'm kind of exhausted with her b.s. overall. I've seen others comment that the way she acts would get her committed and I'm still there, personally. (This whole idea that Amy=Autumn seems really half-baked to me, as it's presented in S1 E8. It could definitely be something solid... but it feels like it's suffered by the characters just being mysterious for the sake of it, rather than layered or actually complex)
  
• Perry: This show has me asking myself if I actually liked Tom Pelphry in Ozark, or if I was paying attention enough. Perry as a character is terribly one-note. "The fool/Black sheep", and it hits a little too hard on the head for so many characters to point our that Perry is the fuck up of the family, and then he goes and fulfills that role. I really, really, hope he gets some decent character development, and isn't just a tool for the narrative in S2 in the way Autumn kind of feels for S1. Kinda like, "without them the story wouldn't move... so fuckin deal with it" lmao.
  
• Rhett: As far as I can tell, Rhett doesn't really contribute anything to the plot besides a "tragic loss of love" via family and romance that seems like you can see it a mile away. Yes, his involvement lends itself to Perry's actions and as such is meant to be a part of the "stakes" the family could lose in the season, but he seems pretty inconsequential after his fight in Ep1. It feels like we could actually explore characters like Wayne and Autumn more if we didn't have this extra narrative-fat in each episode.
  
• Wayne: Dude, I fucking love Will Paton... and after the first couple episodes I was looking forward to him being a character we engage with... not just watch in bed. Just like in Yellowstone, he seems to be being massively underutilized. Realizing in episode 7-8 what he meant by "Well Royal, why would I want that West Pasture" was such an exciting, yet frustrating tease.
  

I've only just finished Season 1. And I am looking forward to continuing into S2. I guess my main complaint is that S1 would have been better if it had another episode or two to help better connect with the characters. Besides certain small details like the spit strings between Autumn and Billy, and the Google phone case on Luke's IPhone. It seems like mystery shows like this, and Found on MGM+, that are kinda like modern Losts with intentionally open ended mysteries... don't serve well with condensed, studio standardized, 8 episode seasons.

It felt very, very strange being granted such a title. Mona’s dad was a barkeeper, and my parents (gods rest their souls) worked manual labor and as a cleric. Neither of us had any noble blood in us, or had butlers, footmen and maids. It was a pretty big adjustment for us, especially having to call Mona by her full name when we were in polite company. I had always called her Mona or Emerald (Emmy for short), cause she was beautiful like an emerald, and she always called me Cookie because I loved baking for her. So, going from our pet names to “Ah yes, this is my wife, Lady Desdamona Torres of Mardul, and I am Lady Catherine Louise of Mardul” was so weird. 

But, regardless, I began my misguided quest for revenge against people I didn’t like. I started with Torence, and knew I needed to be smart about what I did. He had just harassed my wife, so if anyone was going to point fingers, he would have an easy reason. So, I started very small. I took on a monstrous form, either that of one of the many wyverns I had cut apart and studied, the Hell Cobra, or the Nightmare Corvid. It started simply enough, roaming the forests of their estate at night, causing people and animals to panic as I let out nightmarish noises to keep them up. Once they were sufficiently worked up, phase two of the plan took effect. I would watch them from their yard, and just stare. Nothing is more terrifying than seeing a 30 foot tall bird just staring at you from the front of your grounds, and then when you call someone to help it’s just gone. Finally, I’d start harassing them. I would swoop down at them or chase them when they were outside, I would damage their windows with rocks or branches, or destroy some of their outside possessions like carriages and gardens. Once I felt they were sufficiently harassed, or had spent a ton of money trying to get rid of me, I’d leave and move on to the next one. Again, THIS IS NOT HOW THINGS SHOULD BE DONE! Please, for the love of the gods, understand that! Either way, that was my schedule for each asshole noble that we encountered. I even got a name for myself, I was simply known as “The Beast”, or “The Shifter”. I liked the beast better, personally, because then that gave me the chance to make lewd and unladylike jokes to my wife. (Yes, penis jokes, and they’re still funny). 

We looked at each other, a bit underwhelmed by this display and kind of disappointed overall. But, we had to remind ourselves that these were basically fodder for hell. Imps aren’t hard enemies unless they swarm in numbers, and even then they go down fairly easily. We were a Grandmaster and Archmage, we were incredibly overpowered for the enemies we had just faced. But, it still felt good to know we had done a service to the town! We were now technically certified devil hunters, but neither of us really felt we had deserved it. So, we started doing our research for the next job. We learned more about the hierarchy of hell, who had control over who, how they commanded them, how things moved up in the ranks, all that. We were upset to learn that killing a devil in our world does not actually kill them for good unless you do something special like a soul-trap or soul destruction. Their soul returns to hell, gets recycled through the machine and implanted into a new body of equal strength to the one they had just lost. So, those imps were definitely going to come back for revenge, I guess. Eh, whatever, it takes a long time to move up the ranks and we’d just continue killing them. Maybe some research into stopping that would be a good idea… We started moving our way up the hierarchy ladder slowly, making sure to build up our name as an annoyance of hell as best we could. Our first year was very easy, we spent our time hunting imps, spined devils and chain devils that we were way too outclassed to give a fair shot. I’m not going to say we wiped the floor every time, we did have moments where they were able to get a good hit on us or were able to cause us some damage, but overall it was a very easy fight. One annoyance, though, was their immunity to my flames. I had to rely solely on my shifting magic and protection magic to be able to fight properly due to them being immune to fire. It was annoying, especially since the majority of my offensive spells were fire spells! I started to do some research on the topic, hoping I could find something that could overcome their fiery immunity or even shut it off completely. My search came up dry, however, so it was back to turning into cool beasts I had killed and dissected and using their forms to maim a bunch of terrified devils. I had considered dissecting and studying the make-up of devils, but once I opened up a bone devil I quickly learned that their forms were mostly just houses for their infernal magic. Without the flames of hell burning inside them, these were just weird looking vessels made of flesh, bone and organs. Plus, probably wasn’t a good idea to be running around in a form that most people feared and wanted dead, so that line of thinking and studying was quickly abandoned. Once we had reached what I guess would be considered the level of Sergeant for the legions of hell, we had begun to acquire quite the name for ourselves in hell. We had not taken out incredibly high ranking members of hell, but we had been able to take a lot of them out in such a short time-frame. As powerful as those on top think they are, a large portion of their strength is having disposable fodder to throw at problems and handle most things for them. We were causing that number to decrease, which was causing problems up the ladder. 

We found out after a bone devil appeared in our bedroom one night. He held two wanted posters, one for Shapechanger Catherine Louise and the other for Potion Master Desdemona Torres. We had a price of 250 soul coins on our head together, quite an impressive sum! We were a real annoyance to them, it seems. We couldn’t help but cheer, even hugging the bone devil and thanking him for telling us the news! He was incredibly confused, pushing us off as he attempted to spear through us with his tail. I shifted my teeth into sharp daggers like a wyvern, grabbed his tail in my teeth and bit it clean off. Mona followed with a special explosive concoction she had been refining that seeped into the body of the devil. Even with their fire immunity, that didn’t mean they couldn’t be lit on fire. I threw a spark at his chest, the concoction lighting him on fire and causing the potion to heat up. It seeped into his skin as he screamed out in pain, his body starting to bulge and swell as the concoction did its magic. We didn’t want a mess to clean up, so I cast a spell of force to push him out the window. He shattered through, his body starting to crack and blister with energy as he continued screaming out in pain. In a brilliant flash, his body exploded into a glitter of magic and faded into nothingness. Once his corporeal form was gone, I decided it was time to test out my research. My hands began to glow as I set an area around the area where its soul would be. 

"During a shareholder presentation Tuesday, the three execs currently running Paramount Global (at least for now; the company may be on the verge of being sold) announced that they had a plan to “transform” the company’s streaming strategy, [...] Instead, the company is looking to form “a deep and expansive relationship, one that would make the most of our hit content while improving the customer offering.” McCarthy said Par wants a new paradigm that both reduces subscriber churn and, perhaps most importantly, controls cost.
It’s not that Par execs think their programming isn’t popular enough to work in a subscription universe. Quite the opposite: The exec trio talked up the populist appeal of its content and noted Paramount+’s ability to become a top-five streamer just a couple of years after launch, with over 70 million global subscribers. But Paramount has decided the costs of running its own streaming service — marketing dozens of shows, finding a user interface that actually works, etc. — are too high.
Instead, it wants to create a new blueprint where Paramount content (CBS shows, MTV reality series, the Yellowstone universe, Paramount Pictures movies) has a guaranteed home, but not in an expensive, self-contained luxury island where Par shareholders pay the full mortgage. Think of it this way: Paramount wants to move its streaming offering from the ritzy mountaintop mansion where it’s lived the past few years and relocate it to a still very nice duplex condo where another owner (or owners) helps pay for building upkeep.
To underscore just how serious they were about moving on from the current Paramount+ status quo, McCarthy said the company has “already had a great deal of an inbound interest” in the idea and that there would be more details “soon.”
It’s worth noting here that back in February, The Wall Street Journal reported that Paramount had engaged in conversations with Peacock owner Comcast about a Peacock–Paramount+ merger “through a partnership or joint venture” — the exact same wording McCarthy used this week. The paper has also reported Warner Bros. Discovery’s interest in a team-up. Nothing has happened publicly on this front, in part because of the aforementioned potential sale to David Ellison’s Skydance Media, producer (with Par) of the recent Mission: Impossible and Top Gun movies and TV shows like Reacher and Jack Ryan. Per multiple published reports, the Skydance-Paramount deal is both all but done and possibly in doubt, given some supposed last-minute doubts from Shari Redstone, the media mogul who basically controls Paramount through her family’s movie-theater chain National Amusements.
It’s this uncertainty that may explain why Tuesday’s admission by Paramount’s current leadership that Paramount+ as a stand-alone business no longer makes sense hasn’t generated a ton of headlines. Fact is, as long as there’s a strong chance that new ownership could be taking over, any plans from the current “office of the CEO” of Paramount Global come with a major asterisk attached. It’s hard to imagine any potential Paramount+ partner would sign a deal without knowing for sure that either the people executing said deal will be around to see it through or that the new owners are onboard with the idea.
And then there’s this: Many in the media and Wall Street have been operating under the assumption that Paramount+ as it is now isn’t long for this world, and that any new owner, including Skydance, would look to make a meaningful change in streaming. (In fact, I continue to hear rumblings from very good sources that a Peacock–Paramount+ team-up of some sort is more likely than not, however the current ownership drama gets resolved.) So the fact that the current management officially signed on shaking things up might not read as worthy of a breaking-news alert. [...]"
Link (Vulture):
https://www.vulture.com/article/paramount-plus-future-peacock-merger.html