Shortly before a final paper with pre-assigned topics was due for one of my last courses at Columbia University, our professor sent us an email telling us to forego the previous parameters of the essay, and to instead write about the events that had occurred not even forty-eight hours earlier, as well as our reflections on them, to be done in any manner we chose. Here is a very lightly revised version of what I submitted: read it, ignore it, upvote it, downvote it, hate it, love it.
I am prefacing this essay by stating that it is the culmination of several intense emotions that I have been dealing with over the last few weeks, more specifically, the last several days. It is a free-form expression of the many things occupying my mind, and, as such, it may seem overwhelming or disjointed. Nevertheless, I will do my best to convey my feelings into something representative of my beliefs, and my time at this institution.
My time at Columbia University has been bookended in an almost comically bad way; it started with Zoom classes during the COVID-19 pandemic, and now it ends with Zoom final exams due to the lockdown of Columbia’s campus after protests regarding the Israel – Palestine conflict reached a fever pitch not just within Morningside Campus, but the international stage. My classmates and I missed in-person orientation, and now, given recent developments, we will not have a University Commencement, a fact I found out not from Columbia, but a New York Times alert, somehow lowering my opinion of this administration’s handling of recent events even more. While the circumstances around my time at Columbia have now both begun and finished in the same manner, I am proud to say that I have not. I do not mean that Columbia has simply made me a better writer, a more critical thinker, or more well read, although it certainly has done those things, sometimes forcing me to when I was not particularly in the mood to do so, but those improvements pale in comparison to the maturity and empathy my time at this university has given me.
When the decision to transition to remote learning during the Spring 2020 semester was made, occurring only a short time after I had received my acceptance letter (email), my first thought was how the pandemic would affect my transfer from community college to Columbia in September. Admittedly, this was a selfish perspective, considering the tremendous challenges that many would endure during the ensuing lockdowns and other upheavals of life. My concerns were solely focused on myself because I was on a simple track to graduate, place my degree on my resumé, and continue my trajectory of military service to college to employment, leaving little else to consideration, to include other people who were not in my immediate circle. Sitting here now, two weeks from graduation, with a job at a Fortune 500 company lined up, I should be happy, with the plans I had made years ago coming to fruition. Yet I cannot help feeling a sense of sadness and concern for the school I have spent years of my life at, and for the world as a whole.
James Hatch, a former member of the United States’s elite Naval Special Warfare Development Group, or DEVGRU, for short, more commonly known by its nickname, Seal Team Six, famous for its involvement in the killing of Osama Bin Laden and the rescue of the Maersk Alabama Captain Richard Phillips from pirates, amongst other things, spent over twenty years in the military. After being wounded on a mission to rescue American serviceman sergeant Bowe Bergdahl from enemy forces, he was medically discharged, and would eventually attend Yale University. While there, he wrote a piece titled My Semester with the Snowflakes (please give this a read, it will help people who have never been in the military understand its culture, along with some of the challenges veterans face when transitioning to college), where he details his initial discomfort with being in a vastly different environment than the military, surrounded by individuals who possessed opinions and beliefs contrary to the ones he was accustomed to. He recalls witnessing a student protest the country he spent over two decades serving by coating her hand in red paint, and leaving a palm print on an American flag, and details his shock when a classmate of his explained to him what a “safe space” was, as well as his pride when he began to understand the nuances of life both inside and outside of the nation he dedicated twenty-six years to.
I can relate to Mr. Hatch, (despite my service paling in comparison to his, as well as the fact that Columbia is far superior to Yale), because, like his friends who make fun of him for attending college with a bunch of “snowflakes,” mine do the same. More significantly, however, his personal growth during his time at school is something that I have experienced myself. When I started at Columbia, I did not even know which major I would choose, and was largely lost in a world very different than the one I had come from. Despite this, I made the decision to avoid communities such as MilVets and the students who made it very clear that they came from a military background, with their style of dress and demeanor, not because those organizations and individuals are a detriment; I know for a fact that MilVets has helped countless students succeed at Columbia and beyond, and the veterans that I have relationships with are all phenomenal people, but because I wanted to pressure myself into being exposed to something different. I was uncomfortable at first, but this turned out to be the right decision. I learned as much from simply talking to people whom I would normally never converse with about topics and ideas that I had never encountered as I did during classes about great works of art, polar and Cartesian coordinates, literature, astronomy, the list goes on.
If the protests about the Israel – Palestine conflict had occurred when I first started at Columbia, I would have been frustrated by the students taking up space, forcing us to be funneled on to campus by restricted access points and identification checks. Likely irritated by the disturbance of the quiet during finals season, I would have agreed with the people who called for students to simply focus on their assignments and stop inconveniencing others by shouting about something occurring on the other side of the world. Instead, I decided to learn about the conflict, educating myself about both sides of a war that has roots extending back millennia. While Columbia University did not agree to the demands of the protestors, they achieved something else they surely desired, reaching a goal they did not state to President Shafik and her advisors: they brought attention to their cause by educating at least one additional person about it.
After reading, talking to people, listening to input from students within various classes, and understanding that things such as the intertwined nature of financial workings, as well as conflicts not just in the Middle East, but all over the world, are a level of complexity that baffles some of the most brilliant minds of ours and previous generations, I will leave my thoughts about Israel and Palestine separate from this paper. I recognize that it is important to choose a side, as remaining impartial helps no one. However, when every news agency, group and individual makes their voice heard, satirical sources such as The Onion make these kind of posts, or Adult Swim’s Rick, the nihilistic, narcissistic, psychopathic, misanthropic lead character from the series Rick and Morty, addresses the conflict in this manner, I feel that it is better to relegate myself to a much smaller part of this debate, namely the occurrences on Columbia University’s Morningside Campus.
During basic training for the United States Army, a sense of brotherhood and camaraderie is hammered into recruits’ identities. When you graduate and are assigned to a unit, one where you could be thousands of miles from home on the opposite side of the country, or even in a completely different country, serving on one of the international bases, approaching someone who you have never met before is easy. Talking to them about shared experiences and stories you have in common, and the bonding that occurs, is the product of an indoctrination process and lifestyle that has existed longer than any of us have been alive, and is proof of its effectiveness. This sense of familiarity tends to continue even when one leaves the military. The Veterans of Foreign Wars community is a place for prior servicemembers of all conflicts to share a drink, a laugh, and sometimes a tear. When I go to the Veterans Administration Hospital for periodic check-ups or the occasional injury, men and woman wearing hats commemorating their service during Vietnam waiting for their appointments greet me with a smile and a handshake, as if we have known each other for years. While working at a golf club’s greens department before I transferred to Columbia from community college, a coworker of mine who had served in the Gulf War had heard from our supervisor that I had been in the Army, and he introduced himself to me on my first day, before anyone else, telling me that if I needed anything, I only had to ask. This camaraderie has expanded to encompass not just veterans, but first responders such as firemen, EMT’s, and the police as well.
Underneath the picture on my driver’s license, the word “veteran” is emblazoned next to a star, written in bright red text and all capital letters. I know for a fact that this one-and-a-half-inch indicator has helped me during interactions with law enforcement on multiple occasions. Only earlier this semester, during Presidents’ Day weekend, I went upstate to spend time with my family. While driving back, in an effort to make the seven-hour trip at a reasonable time, I was stopped for going twenty miles-per-hour over the speed limit. The officer who pulled me over, initially reserved, became noticeably more friendly when I handed him my license and registration. Ultimately, he gave me what amounted to a parking ticket for my actions, rather than the point-incurring, heavily fined moving violation he could have charged me with.
The ‘Thin Blue Line,’ as it is known, is a reference to the idea that the police are the barrier between law abiding citizens and criminals, order and chaos. The most common representation of this concept is a black-and-white American flag, with a single blue line in the place where a red or white stripe would normally be. This style has been expanded to include numerous other colors representing other first-responders: green for the military, red and white no longer to be interpreted as the traditional stripes of the American flag, but instead meant to represent the fire department and paramedics, and even grey for corrections officers. Seeing the appropriation of one of the most iconic symbols in the world, one that flies above the White House, schools, homes, national and international events, and even the Moon, I can say, as someone who has been unwillingly entangled within that appropriation, is nothing short of terrifying.
The fact that these entities and their supporters have literally sewn themselves into the fabric of the symbol of our nation makes one think that there is little room for the countless other occupations, aspects and people that make up this country. The idea of the police being the sole protectors of our society is patently absurd, and all one must do is point out the many instances of police brutality occurring over the years to refute it. I find myself thinking of how much power the officer who stopped me just three months ago had over me. Initially, I was happy that I had received a slap on the wrist, but recently I have found myself wondering what if my license did not state that I was a veteran, would he have charged me with a ticket that would have had much more serious implications? What if he was simply having a bad day, and he decided he did not like the look of me, or the color of my car, and I was the one who he ultimately decided to vent his frustrations on? This traffic infraction, an incredibly small incident compared to all the turmoil in the world, one that involves two strangers, supposedly bonded by our professions, on the side of a quiet, New York highway, serves as a metaphor to me, reminding me of the power structures at play on a much larger scale.
On April 22^nd, 2024, I received this email, one of the many Clery Crime Alerts that students are automatically sent. An affiliate of Columbia University had their car stolen at gunpoint by two masked men on Claremont Avenue, not even a five-minute walk from campus. I skimmed the report, and almost immediately forgot about it, recognizing that crime is an inevitability in major cities, and that I needed to start my commute to school. Days later, on the night of April 30^th, 2024, I received another email from Columbia, containing one of the most ominous messages I had ever seen, one that put the kind of fear in my heart that not even the alert of an armed carjacking could. Columbia’s Emergency Management Operations Team, offering no explanations, specifications, or even a greeting or sign-off, wrote in bold letters these three sentences: “Shelter in place for your safety due to heightened activity on the Morningside campus. Non-compliance may result in disciplinary action. Avoid the area until further notice.” Due to the protests on campus during recent weeks, President Shafik testifying before Congress, Columbia’s role as one of the main catalysts for student protests around the country, and the occupation of Hamilton Hall occurring in the earlier hours of that day, it was not hard to figure out what the email was referencing. Over the next several hours, I followed news agencies, remained glued to the Columbia subreddit, and listened to WKCR, in awe of these eighteen- to twenty-two-year-old students putting themselves at risk to deliver on the ground, accurate, unbiased coverage of one of the most significant events in the school’s history.
While tracking the events from multiple perspectives, to include the social media accounts of those near and on campus live streaming them, I held out hope that the university would make good on their promise from several days earlier to not invite the NYPD back, but a frightening picture began to unfold, one that I was intimately familiar with. One WKCR reporter stated that 114^th street had so many officers on it that he could not see the asphalt of the road beneath them, and I knew that the staging area the NYPD had chosen was one of the best routes for moving towards what the military, and presumably law enforcement, would call an ‘objective.’ The officers cleared the smaller ‘objective,’ the largely unoccupied tents in front of Butler, and then moved towards Hamilton Hall, ordering even those not associated with its occupation to disperse, raising my stress levels and likely those of others, as it is rarely a good sign when police do not want their actions recorded and archived. After the initial entry to campus and clearing of areas and people in the immediate vicinity of Hamilton Hall, came the Long-Range Acoustic Device, or LRAD, a device that makes a megaphone sound like a whisper, and one known for its crowd-control potential, capable of producing sounds loud enough to cause damage to ear-drums, nausea, and headaches, ordering individuals to clear away. The NYPD began its execution of tactics in a way that my fellow soldiers and I used to rehearse, tactics I never dreamed that I would witness outside of the military, and certainly not by police officers who vastly outnumbered unarmed students on their own campus. The NYPD created a perimeter, or a ‘second layer of security’ to both provide reinforcements for the officers entering the building, and to prevent the fleeing of what are called ‘squirters,’ or individuals who attempt to escape the building after the raid begins. While the ‘breach’ team moved towards the front doors, using tools from a ‘hooligan kit,’ such as bolt cutters, hand-held battering rams and crowbars, a siege machine was brought in to allow access from a window; when taking over a building, the idea is to overwhelm it from as many different directions as possible to better disorient and overwhelm its occupants. Flash-bang grenades, described as non-lethal, but known to have harmful effects, were thrown inside, presumably before entering any room, hallway, or otherwise enclosed area to minimize the resistance of anyone unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of what can only be described as an assault on the visual and auditory senses. According to the Manhattan District Attorney, one of the officers inside Hamilton Hall had what is called in the military a “negligent discharge,” meaning his firearm went off unintentionally. While no one was hurt, the question remains why at least one, and more likely, numerous other officers were carrying guns loaded with live ammunition in the first place, when they so drastically outmatched the protestors in numbers and equipment. Additionally, a negligent discharge is an act of incompetence that would result in an active-duty soldier facing serious consequences, and derision from his peers. So far, the officer remains defended by his coworkers, and unpunished by his superiors.
As all this unfolded, I communicated with my friends from the past and present. My friends from the military checked on me to ensure that I was okay, as did my friends from school. The difference in how they viewed these events highlights what I believe is the change in myself that I stated I am most proud of at the beginning of this paper. My friends from the military were commenting that the assertion of order and control by way of militarized tactics was necessary, not concerning themselves with the human toll and destruction of trust that came along with it. Conversely, my schoolmates lamented the brutality and overstepping of boundaries that the NYPD and Columbia’s administration committed, one that turned a place meant to be a beacon of free speech, expression, and ideas, into what is now a police-state with strict control over who enters it.
My education inside and outside the classroom at this institution has challenged, thrilled, and changed me. Sitting here now, at the end of this paper, the end of the semester, and the end of my time at Columbia University, I am left feeling confused and sad regarding recent events, but also hopeful for the future. I know from experience that the students, teachers, and culture of this school have the power to encourage critical thinking and initiate personal growth. If it did those things for me, surely it can do the same for others

I’ve seen the numerous posts warning going back to a pwbpd. Mine broke up with me a month ago (while living with me) and went and had sex with someone and made a tinder all while sleeping next to me every night. Also while leaving me in financial ruin and mental and verbally abusing me daily, going into rages telling me the most vile things about myself such as no man will ever love me, he thought of other women every time we had sex, I was disgusting pitiful cancerous pathetic the list goes on. It was probably the most traumatic month of my life, I lost 15 pounds, have insomnia and visibly am still in shambles. He told me he thought he had bpd about 6 months ago and I started reading up on it and everything made sense. He had a traumatic childhood, in short term foster homes his entire life. I love him so much and knew that he was sick and had been through unimaginable pain. I knew he had to protect himself and was always left and I wanted him to know I would protect him always and would never leave him.
After this month of horror and dealing with someone who I didn’t recognize, after one night of raging on me I guess I said something that struck a chord finally and he broke down. He took down the mask and cried to me for hours. Telling me about how he knows he’s sick and he’s been in these cycles his entire life and ruined every relationship. He said he’d do anything to stop living like this. He said he didn’t mean anything he said that he only wanted to hurt me because he was hurt. He even told me he believes he has narcissistic traits which i definitely had thought before but thought i was being too harsh. I told him he needed to start therapy and remember this night and hold on to that clarity, that he couldn’t revert after this and be in denial. I then spent a few days writing out a letter that I read to him detailing my boundaries and that I would stick by him through whatever but that I couldn’t accept abuse or cheating.
I was so nervous to bring it to him because I thought he may not take it well and as you know we walk on eggshells with these people but I had studied up on ways to communicate with your partner with bpd and put a lot of thought into it. His response was pulling me close and telling me he loved me. I decided that I was giving him a fresh clean slate to be the best him he could be, who he wanted to be, I thought. I didn’t treat him as if he just cheated on me 2 weeks prior. We had a great week. 2 days ago I had an important exam and woke up anxious and told him. He was trying to make me feel better but I guess I didn’t respond to him in the way he wanted and he changed his tone and I asked him why he was being rude to me, this upset him so he walked outside without saying anything to leave. I followed after him which I shouldn’t have, and he told me to shut up and leave him alone. My exam was in one hour, I was crying and a mess, he tried to quickly make up for it and move past it and prepare me for my exam but I definetley failed. I let it go and didn’t let it ruin the day. Things were good but in the back of my mind I wondered did he subconsciously intentionally try to mess up a day he knew was so important to me, but I was sweet and let it go. Yesterday morning things felt off. He wasn’t as cheery as he had been the rest of the week, and left to work and didn’t message me the entire morning or afternoon. When he got home i let him know that I felt like things were off and was sad that he didn’t kiss me when he came in or talk to me throughout the day. I’m an anxious attachment style anyways and my love language is definitely touch. Besides that I was just cheated on and told by the man I love how awful I am, so despite me playing it so cool I do feel insecure and distrusting of him and when he will switch.
To make a long story short, he doesn’t take it well. I try to communicate calmly and tell him that these things don’t need to be turned into this, that he could have simply hugged me and let me know nothing was wrong and that I made it clear it was his responsibility to help reassure me through this process. He flips everything on me, somehow is the victim who isn’t enough or doesn’t do enough and says he’s done and this isn’t worth it to him. Goes to sleep, wake up at 7 leaves doesn’t say a word to me all day. Gets home at 5 and acts like nothing really happened but still no kiss or I love you and of course no recognition of what’s happened. At this point I’m so tired of the weird games. I ask him is he comfortable with this weirdness. That he could have just hugged me today and apologized and moved forward. But his pride doesn’t allow him to do that. It turned into a huge ordeal and I tried to remind him of our conversation where he had a moment of clarity, everything he told me, and it got no where. He denied everything and tried to flip it all on me. Said he thinks I’m being emotionally unstable because I just got off my birth control not because I’m being gaslit cheated on and manipulated by the man I’ve given my everything to. Took no accountability and just ends it with what’s easiest, that this isn’t gonna work. I tell him I took him back after the biggest betrayal of my life because I believed him that he was aware of his issues and that he needed to work on them and couldn’t hurt me anymore. He tells me no, he took ME back. He doesn’t live in reality and it’s honestly terrifying, for him and for me being in love with him. I’m not crying right now. I don’t even know what’s real anymore. My life just feels like a bad acid trip. Words couldn’t describe how I feel. I question if it’s rubbing off on me. I feel an incredible emptiness and confusion now from going through this manipulation and trauma. I have my second therapy appt tomorrow. I can’t make sense of anything in my life. I’ve just tried to be a good person and love him and it seems he is incapable of giving me that back. I’ve accepted that this won’t work but still feel guilt and pain that he will continue to suffer through life. I don’t want him to be alone. I wanted to be that one person that never left him. But it feels like he cannot care for me or think of me in the same capacity and sometimes that he wants to actually destroy me.

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 32:‌ ‌ The Pale Wanderer
Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1
Edited‌ ‌by‌ PatrollinTheMojave
 
Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon
 
Arc: Flesh and Bark‌ ‌
 ‌ ‌
‌  ‌ ‌
Then
An arc of purple lightning flashed across the night sky of the Boneyard, splitting the dark sky in twain as Capucine trudged across the ashy wastes of the realm. A cold gale ripped through the land, chilling the warrior to the bone, yet after centuries of time living in the Rot’s home realm, it felt identical to the ocean breeze that graced her every evening of her monastic childhood. Anxious, she fiddled with her leather armor, tightening every strap and support to make sure they were all in the right positions. She double checked that her sheath was properly tied to her belt, and that the steel sword within was sharp and clean.
He would catch up to her sooner or later, almost certainly before she made it to the portal. It wasn’t hard to pick that fact up. The Boneyard always became a little rougher when he wasn’t happy. She’d endeavored to spare him a difficult conversation, but perhaps that was too optimistic a hope. He was smart for someone his age, even if he’d made such a grave mistake.
Perhaps she was trying to spare herself the labor of having a conversation, rather than trying to keep the adolescent Avatar’s emotions in check. Perhaps she was just running from her problems, something she couldn’t remember ever doing before. Perhaps her ambitions to steer the young Avatar towards better decisions was the wrong choice on her part.
…No. Her advice was invaluable, she knew that much, and William Holland took that advice well. She just wasn’t in much of a position to give advice anymore.
Climbing atop an gray, dusty hill, Capucine gazed at the portal back to the physical world, composed of a miasma of swirling bones and inky fluids. To the unadjusted nose, it smelled absolutely foul, but to Capucine it smelled no different than the rest of the Boneyard. This was her ticket back, to somewhere where she’d do… something.
She didn’t know what that something was. In fact, she felt nauseous at the idea of wandering the world for centuries yet again with no real goal or purpose, though when considering the alternative, Capucine was ready to step right through the portal, even if her reason for leaving was so small in the grand scheme of things.
Breathless, Capucine took one step towards the portal, only for a boom of thunder to shake the realm. Capucine stopped dead in her tracks, sighing. William didn’t need to say anything to get her attention, as she turned around, coming face to face with the young Avatar.
He’d grown quite a bit in the three years she’d been advising him. His mane of red hair had regained some of its color, and across his pale face stood the beginnings of a beard, with bits of pronounced stubble around his chin and above his lips. He remained as gaunt as ever, yet he’d also grown much taller since his beginning as the Rot’s leader. He looked Capucine in the eyes, keeping his expression as blank as possible, “I got your note.”
Capucine narrowed her eyes, “So you did.”
William’s bottom lip quivered, “There’s no way I can change your mind…is there?”
“Not that I can see,” Capucine remarked.
William’s head drifted to the side as he attempted to avert his gaze, hiding his eyes from Capucine behind his wild hair. He choked back something, maybe a sob, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said. It was a mistake.”
Capucine took a step forward, feeling the urge to console the boy, yet as she reached out towards him, she found herself frozen by trepidation. She was not a woman of gentle words, and this was a situation that called for them. Rescinding her hand, she stepped back towards the portal, “What’s done is done. I do not hate you, William Arcane, but I cannot stay here.”
Capucine turned her back on William, readying herself to step through the portal. She took one step, then another before William spoke once more, “Tefé.”
Capucine stopped, electing not to turn back and face the young Avatar. Realizing that she was waiting for him to continue, William spoke again, “My sister. I know her, she’s got a good heart, but she’s not like me. She’s not an Avatar. She could always use someone to watch her back.”
For a moment, Capucine did not answer, and the silence seemed to push William to take a few steps back. Turning, he began to walk away, unable to think of much else to say, when Capucine finally answered back, “If she is the sister of William Arcane…then I know her to be someone of good character. Your advice is invaluable, Avatar. Thank you.”
Without another word, Capucine stepped through the portal, disappearing from the Boneyard. William stared at the portal for what felt like hours before he finally shuddered, his shaky breathing accompanied by a single tear that froze up on its way down his cheek, stopping short as a bead of ice just before it fell off of his jaw.
Now
“So you’re here because my brother suggested it?”
“That’s correct.”
Capucine answered Tefé’s inquiry in a dry manner, keeping most of her focus on cleaning the gasoline off her sword with a rag. She sat upon the corpse of the formerly living infected tree, using it as a comfortable log of sorts while Maxine and Tefé remained in their canoe, having managed to dock it by tying it to a nearby set of protruding roots. It was about noon now, and the Florida heat had become unbearable. Maxine wiped her forehead, expecting that she’d probably be dead without the trees as a shield from the sun.
Tefé rubbed her throat, recovering from the vice grip of the tree, “I…how is he? He’s not in trouble is he?”
“Far from it. Your brother is doing better than most. He’s got a keen mind for leadership, and the Rot endures with him as its head,” Capucine sheathed her sword. “He doesn’t need my advice anymore, and I do the world no favors remaining at his side. If I am to continue the preservation of a better world, then it’s best I accompany you instead.”
Tefé grumbled a little, but also couldn’t help but smile, “So the little rascal thinks I need a hand, huh? Thinks I need advice.”
Tefé smirked, then looked up at Capucine, “Got any words of wisdom for me?”
Capucine looked down at the tree carcass, then back at Tefé, “Don’t get grabbed by monstrous trees.”
Tefé swallowed, “Yeah…sound advice.”
Maxine stared at the water, noting that its viscosity had remained unchanged, “Uh…guys? I think there are more gasoline trees somewhere out there. I feel like it would’ve cleared up at least a little bit.”
Capucine jumped into the canoe, breaking the rope keeping it moored with her bare hands, “Then we find the source of the infestation, and remove it.”
Maxine and Tefé didn’t do anything to impede Capucine’s actions, though they were certainly taken aback by this old English era woman taking charge of their mission. Without a word, Capucine grabbed a paddle and began rowing upstream, her toned build making what was a laborious task for Tefé effortless. The trio moved upstream at a rapid pace, with Capucine barely making a single grunt or noise as she paddled onward. As the hours went by, the water to gasoline ratio of the river continued to tip in the gasoline’s favor, to the point that eventually Capucine looked like she was putting real effort into her paddling.
Tefé stared at the woman, unsure of what to make of her, “So…Capucine?”
“Yes?”
“I know your name, I know you’ve been…advising my brother. What else do you do? What’s your story?”
Capucine frowned, “To be brief…I was born over a thousand years ago in Lindisfarne Abbey. What happened after is a personal matter, and one I’d rather not discuss. Similarly, discussing how I came to be immortal, and what I’ve done in the many centuries afterwards would doubtlessly be a fruitless and boring exercise. That energy is better spent rowing.”
Tefé raised an eyebrow, “Okay….then, why are you doing any of this? What drives you to help us?”
Capucine paused for a moment, allowing the canoe to slow in its approach upriver. Then, she snorted, a small smile forming as she began to paddle once more, “I’ve lived long enough to know this is a good place, a good world. I like it intact and alive, and I’d do whatever it takes to keep it that way.”
“Uh…good answer,” Tefé turned her attention to the rest of the forest, watching carefully for threats. Capucine was certainly blunt, and maybe a little scary looking, but from what she could tell the woman wasn’t much of a danger. If she wanted to learn more, she could do that after the case of Silver Springs was solved.
Maxine grimaced, staring at the thick gasoline they were rowing through, “What do you think is causing this stuff? The closest thing I can think of is the Rot but…part of me can’t put that picture together.”
“Because this is not the Rot’s doing. William is well aware of these kinds of problems, and manages them well. He would never allow something like this to escalate as far as it has,” Capucine grunted, her sheath rattling against the interior of the canoe. “This is something different.”
“Oil’s a fossil fuel, right?” Maxine asked, “Could there be any connection?”
“Perhaps, but this isn’t just oil, it’s gasoline. It’s processed,” Capucine grunted, the act of rowing becoming tougher. “Something is turning the oil into Gasoline. Maybe it’s the trees, maybe it’s something else.”
“But what force would do that? There’s definitely something magical going on about these things,” Maxine asked.
Capucine frowned, “I am…unsure. I’ve not heard of any force that pertains to these properties. Perhaps one of them has evolved. Such an occurrence is not unheard of; the Red does it all the time.”
“Or maybe…someone’s twisting a force into something it isn’t,” said Tefé. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out soon enough.”
Eventually, the boat rounded a corner, passing another infected tree. Maxine and Tefé readied themselves, only for Capucine to keep paddling, “Do not bother with them. They’re symptoms, not the cause.”
Maxine raised an eyebrow, “And the cause is….where?”
Capucine pointed down the river, and past a muddy, poisoned shore sat an entire row of the ailing cypresses, encircling a clearing of some kind. As the canoe pushed up against the mid, Capucine trudged out, making her way towards the clearing with her hand on her longsword’s hilt. The trees seemed to regard her, blatantly still conscious, yet they did not attack. Maxine and Tefé followed in trepidation, eyeing the trees in suspicion.
“Why aren’t they attacking?” Maxine asked.
“I don’t know,” Capucine remarked. “Perhaps they’re afraid.”
“Of you…or of something else?” Tefé wondered aloud.
As the three entered the clearing, they came across a sight none of them would have expected…a human heart.
It laid in the mud, rooted by cartilage that snaked its way beneath the earth. It beat with a satisfying rhythm, pulsating as if it still rested inside the body of a living man. A thick liquid permeated the mud, shifting outward from the heart.
Gasoline.
Capucine drew her sword, preparing to stab the heart with it. Eyes wide, Maxine jumped in front of her, “Woah woah woah, what are you doing?!”
“I’m removing the problem,” Capucine remarked.
“But…but…we don’t know what this thing even is?”
Capucine sneered at Maxine, “Is it not obvious? Someone or something has perverted an object of the Red, and that infection is spreading to the Green. With its removal, this area can begin healing.”
“How can you know that for sure? I’m the Avatar of the Red, and I can’t feel any trace of the Red in there,” Maxine exclaimed.
“Then the corruption of the object has completely overridden its connection to the Red. All the more reason to destroy it.”
Maxine whirled around, staring at Tefé for help. Tefé opened her mouth to protest, yet she was unsure of how to proceed. On the one hand, the Green was suffering, this place was suffering. Getting rid of the heart seemed like the right answer, yet Maxine was right as well. They knew practically nothing about this heart, and if the trees weren’t attacking them, maybe it was an invitation to learn more.
Before she could voice her opinion on one approach or the other though, a new voice made itself known, a raspy, texan accent that came from vocal chords that didn’t realize they were long past their expiration date.
“Well, if you’d let me speak…I’d love to tell you why I deserve to live!”
The trio assumed defensive stances as the ground rumbled around the heart, at which point a dozen or so ribs began to poke out of the mud around the heart, followed by rotten yet well preserved flesh. The heart and ribs rose with the flesh, revealing a man with an open chest as he picked himself up from out of the mud. He was wearing an old coat and pants, and wore only one sock on his feet. Inconsistent, matted hair hung from his head, covered up slightly by a ruined cowboy hat. An ugly stubble dotted his cheeks, paired with yellow teeth and milky white eyes. He smiled, raising what looked to be an old revolver to his chin to scratch it with the barrel. With the other hand, he reached out to shake any of the trio’s hands, “Howdy folks. Pale Wanderer, representing the Parliament of Gears…how are you doing this fine day?”
The trio looked at each other in confusion, then Capucine spoke, “What are you? Are you the cause of the Malady plaguing this land.”
“Well…I wouldn’t call it a malady per-se! More of a necessary sacrifice.” The Pale Wanderer tipped his hat up. “As for what I am? Well honey…I’m a crusader. A force meant to alleviate suffering, and right now? That suffering is…well, it’s not exactly something any of the flora or fauna here really give a shit about.”
“And what’s that?” Tefé asked.
“Well…it’s a bit of a logistical nightmare to explain, but it starts with oil!” The Pale Wanderer gestured towards the ground. “We’re a car based society, here in the United States I mean! Trouble is, gas prices are fuckin’ outrageous these days, right?”
Capucine narrowed her eyes, “I do not see how that should concern us.”
“I’m not finished!” The Pale Wanderer remarked. “The average American has to pay an arm and a leg for gas nowadays, and they need gas if they want to get anywhere. Have a job, wanna see family, need to make a trip to the grocery store? Need to pay for gas if you wanna to any of that! Trouble is, gas comes from oil, and oil? It’s getting rarer by the minute…that’s why I made this place!”
The Pale Wanderer raised his arms, gesturing to the gasoline laced mud and the producing trees, “Think about it! More Gasoline means the market price of Gasoline’s gonna go down, which means gas is cheaper for everyone! At least, I think that’s how it works! Plus, my Gas is A+ quality, even comes in Diesel!”
As The Pale Wanderer continued on about his tirade on Gas prices, Maxine and Tefé shared a confused glance at each other. They’d never encountered something like this before, something this unusual, this keyed in and calculated in purpose yet scattershot in reasoning. The only thing two of them seemed to fixate on though was something the Pale Wanderer said when he introduced himself.
The Parliament of Gears.
Tefé stepped forward, “You said you were part of the Parliament of Gears? What is that? I’ve never heard of them.”
“Oh, That’s cause we’re new on the block, sweetie, but glad to be here,” The Pale Wanderer remarked. “Not qualified to sell them overall though, you’ll have to talk to marketing for that.”
“Enough!” Capucine declared, holding the point of the sword at the Pale Wanderer. “Your reasons for poisoning this place are simplistic and needless. Leave, or I will make you leave!”
The Pale Wanderer raised an eyebrow, “See, now I don’t like comments like that! We’re all just having a lovely discussion and now all you wanna do is escalate! Things don’t have to be this way! Maybe we can work something out?”
Tefé glanced between Capucine and the Pale Wanderer, making an educated guess that Capucine wasn’t the type to back down in these sorts of situations. Furthermore, she had a point. This place was suffering, and no matter the Pale Wanderer’s intentions, that was something that wouldn’t stand, “We don’t want to fight you, but what you’re doing is…horrifying. You’re killing everything around here for…Gasoline! We can’t stand by and let that happen.”
The Pale Wanderer glanced at Tefé, a glum look on his face. Maxine seemed to be holder her breath somewhat, but there was no question that she was on Tefé and Capucine’s side. Sighing, The Pale Wanderer scratched his thigh with his gun, “So that’s how it is?”
Capucine’s grip on her sword tightened, “That’s how it is.”
The Pale Wanderer pursed his lips, “...Well, if we’ve got no more words to share…I guess we better hop to it.”
The wanderer raised his revolver, only for Capucine to surge forward at lightning speed, piercing him in the heart with her sword. For a moment, he was still, motionless, and Capucine stared him dead in the eyes. Then, he shifted, and after meeting her gaze, he began to laugh, his guffawing causing gasoline to spurt from his heart and onto Capucine’s sword and armor, “Hah! Good try!”
Capucine attempted to back away from the Wanderer, only for him to grab her wrist, keeping her and the sword wedged firmly in his body. Raising his weapon, he prepared to put a bullet in Capucine’s eyes, only for her to deliver a swift fist to his arm, knocking the gun out of his hands. Smiling, he took advantage of his newly freed hand, grabbing her by the throat and squeezing tight. As Capucine struggled for air, the Wanderer could only hoot and holler, “Whooo-weeee! We’re getting down to it now!”
Maxine and Tefé rushed to help the ancient warrior, only for a mob of living trees to encroach upon them, blocking their way while attempting to grab or smash them with their heavy branched arms. Maxine dove to the left, dodging the crushing slam of one tree, while Tefé slipped through the roots of another, narrowly avoiding being picked up again. Separated, the two tried to get a read on each other while avoiding harm, yet it was difficult for either of them to really do anything to help Capucine.
They were both far from the Red and the Green’s safety. No animal would go anywhere near the Pale Wanderer, meaning Maxine’s powers were utterly neutered. Similarly, there was no living plant life near the battlefield, meaning Tefé couldn’t use her powers either. If they wanted to get out of this, they would need to think outside the box.
And that’s when Tefé spotted the Wanderer’s revolver sitting in the mud, and a wild idea crossed her mind as she scanned it and the gasoline laden ground around it. She glanced at Maxine, then to the gun, and Maxine seemed to pick up on what she was thinking. It was a gambit, an insane gambit, but without much power to draw on, it might be their only shot.
Together, the two began to race for the gun, trying desperately to keep out of the reach of the trees. Tefé tried to get there quickly, yet she found herself pursued by a half dozen trees, pressured by their presence. Maxine was closer, and managed to pick up the gun as Tefé was halfway over, only for a tree to come barreling towards her. She whirled around to run, only to snag her foot on a dead root, causing her to trip and fall. Afraid of losing their one chance at Victory, Maxine shared a split second look with Tefé before throwing the gun towards the Pale Wanderer, just as the tree came down on her. It stretched out its arms, its branches ensnaring her and trapping her in place.
Her mind in overdrive, Tefé pivoted and raced for the Pale Wanderer, leaping over the swinging branches of another tree in order to catch the gun. Capucine gasped for air, her eyes glazing over as the Wanderer choked the life out of her, laughing like a madman. With the trees about to grab her, Tefé leapt for the Wanderer’s back, looping one arm around his neck to hold on while planting the gun’s barrel against the gasoline soaked sword, “Stop!”
The trees froze in place, including the one holding Maxine captive. The Pale Wanderer raised his eyebrow, loosening his grip on Capucine and allowing her to breath, “What’s this now? Ready to call it quits?”
Tefé gritted her teeth, “I’m ready to make a deal, and if you refuse, I’ll blow us all sky high! Even you won’t survive that, will you?”
“The hell’re you…” The Pale Wanderer looked down at the gun planted against the sword, and finally realized what was at stake. There was a reason smoking a cigarette at a gas station was a stupid idea, and Tefé was willing to demonstrate. A bullet crashing against steel would cause sparks, and sparks can light many fires, especially ones where the ground was soaked in gasoline. She’s set miles of forest on fire, to nuke the entire place from the ground up….and from the tone of her words, the Wanderer knew Tefé meant it, “Ohhhhh…Clever girl….Ha! So, you’ve got me. What do you want from me?”
Tefé let out a grunt of exhaustion, “I want you…to fuck off and never come back here. Got it?”
The Wanderer chuckled, then winked at Capucine, letting go of her and allowing her to pull out the sword, “Well then, a deal’s a deal.”
Snapping his fingers, The Wanderer watched as every tree around him began to dissolve into an inky ooze, including the one holding onto Maxine, who became drencheds in the stuff. Similarly, the Wanderer himself began to dissolve, though much more slowly. As he sank into the earth, he looked up at Tefé and Capucine, “This place’ll return to what it once was, but don’t count me out just yet. We’ll be seeing each other…oh, and keep the gun. Think of it as a gift from little ol’ me.”
Eventually, the Pale Wanderer was gone, not even his hat remaining, leaving Maxine, Tefé, and Capucine to stare at the spot he once occupied. The crisis at hand was solved, at least as far as they knew, but the problems were only just beginning.
A new force of nature was here, and it did not seem to be a peaceful one.
 
Next Issue: A Trip to somewhere new!
 

First...Previous
Colonist Memory Log: Captain Alan J. Emerson
UNS Evandra
Mechanical melodies of gears grinding together and switches flicking of their own accord surrounded the shrine room as before us the gramophone began softly to whistle and click. “He is here…” Kritivek announced, standing tall and bowing his head in rigid deference to his god.
After a few more seconds, the machine’s output grew in both volume and complexity until at last my GRIM could recognize the clicks as Chitaan language. “Hello, Kritivek.” It began, its voice smooth and rhythmic like something between the crackle of a geiger counter and a typewriter’s telltale racket. “I am glad to see you alive and well. Judging by the fact that Gheyk and Fevik are not with you, however, I calculate an 86% chance that they were not so lucky.”
“You are correct, Great One…” murmured Kritivek, the sadness in his tone underpinned by pure awe and reverence for this being.
For a few seconds, Omnus did not speak, but from the everpresent churn of gears we could quite literally hear him ‘thinking’. “I have logged their names in my backup database,” the machine eventually concluded, its words visibly bringing relief to Kritivek. “They shall be remembered for the remainder of my existence. Please, take solace in that…”
“May they frolic in your glory for all of time,” our Chitaan guide prayed aloud, his words followed by yet another long, smothering silence.
“You hath served me well, Kritivek.” Continued the machine, prompting a delighted chitter from the Chitaan priest. “You may go in peace, for I wish to speak with these Humans alone. Mourn your brothers and celebrate the time you spent together. Perhaps enjoy a flask of bogal poured out in their honor?”
“As you wish, my lord… I will inform those outside that you are in contemplation for this night and can take no more prayers until daybreak.”
Replicating with its gears the gentle rattle of a Chitaan chuckle, Omnus waited until his priest had left before at last speaking directly to the three of us. “You are not native to this planet, correct?” He asked, his words distinctly lacking the emotional inflections of Kritivek’s. “Your arrival here is without precedent, but not entirely unexpected.”
Though clearly far from divine in nature, the being with whom we conversed at this shrine was nevertheless a true marvel to behold: one born not of metaphysics, but rather mechanics. “You’re an AI!” I gasped, that last word having no direct translation in the Chitaan language and as such forcing my translator to make do with the clumsier phrase ‘thinking tool’.
“That is correct,” replied this machine, its words underscored by the distant hiss of steam valves and other clockwork components. “Allow me to offer my most sincere sympathies for the unfortunate demise of your homeworld. Taking into account the trajectory of your ship prior to landing, I presume its origin to be the Cichek system—a G-class star located [forty lightyears] away. Is this hypothesis accurate?”
Awkwardly clearing his throat in a bid to obtain the AI’s attention, it was Alex who next deigned to speak out. “You would be dead on,” he affirmed, his tone betraying an understandable degree of awe. “Though our name for it is the Sol system. How long have you known about our ship for?”
“I first detected the gravitational anomaly in our system approximately [3 months] ago. Initially, I had mistaken your vessel for an asteroid and as such expected it to continue on its prior trajectory. Asteroids, however, do not suddenly change course in the direction of nearby planets like your ship did [hours] ago.”
“Are you entirely clockwork?” I asked Omnus, gesturing incredulously toward its walls of grinding machinery. Surely, that could not be the case. For a convincingly sapient AI to be constructed on the basis of such primitive technology, it would require decades or perhaps even centuries of construction.
Again, silence fell over the room as Omnus mechanically contemplated my query, meeting it with a reply after some twenty seconds of deliberation. “What else might I be?” The machine asked, providing me implicitly with my answer. “While I have theorized several possible avenues for technologies more advanced than myself, including electronic and organic integration, such methods appear to have been beyond my creators' capabilities.”
“That brings up another question…” Alice interjected, recovering at last from the sheer shock of encountering a sapient machine. “Who built you and why?” Despite years of exponential advancement in the field of computer science, true AI nevertheless had continued to elude mankind. Convincing as our facsimiles of sapience could be at times, they nevertheless lacked the capacity for emotion and initiative characteristic of real consciousness. Whoever constructed this machine had done something thought impossible by over a century of Human engineers.
“In truth, I am not sure…” Omnus concluded after an even longer-than-usual pause. “My core memory bank was reset [9,462 years] ago. As such, I have no data on my creators nor their original intentions for me. However, I have largely ruled out the possibility of them having been Chitaan.”
Fascinating as this clockwork consciousness undoubtedly was, something about its relationship with the natives left a bad taste in my mouth all the same. "And why exactly are you masquerading as a god before these people?" I asked him, my words tipped in a venom the potency of which apparently surprised my companions. "What value do you derive from tricking them into worshipping you?"
Lengthy silence fell over the shrine chamber as its AI occupant contemplated my complaint, responding much quicker than it had to the previous question. "In all fairness, 'trick' is a rather strong word..." answered Omnus with a steam-valve sigh. "When first I encountered the Chitaan, I had attempted to explain my true nature to them. No matter how I worded things, however, they simply could not comprehend me as anything short of divine. Upon finding me, the Chitaan found a guide bearing great wisdom; and in turn, I found a species in need of guidance.”
Falling silent for a moment to parse this response within my mind, I was hardly surprised when Alex spoke up to question the computer in my stead. “Is this the only settlement that follows you or are there others?” He asked.
“This access point where you now stand is but one of several thousand, stretched out across [hundreds of thousands of miles],” explained Omnus, practically knocking the wind out of me with its sheer implied scale. “Currently, I am worshipped by the people of 2,147 city states, and through my guidance they are able to coexist in harmony.”
Perhaps at a later date, I reasoned, there would come a time to more closely study the inner workings of this clockwork deity. For the moment, however, my mind was occupied by far more salient concerns: anxieties related less so what this being was and more so to who. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to tell us what your end goal with the Chitaan is, would you?" I inquired, my tone saturated with appropriate suspicion.
Contrary to my expectations of some evasion or simplification, this AI seemed more than happy to comply with my questioning. "My primary objective regarding the Chitaan is to create a society which both minimizes individual suffering and maximizes civilizational longevity. To this end, I have instilled values into my followers that prioritize empathy and compassion above all else. By drip-feeding them the technologies of my creators, I am able to ensure that the Chitaan who follow these directives remain more advanced than their neighbors."
"And why do you want that?" I asked, sticking my head thoroughly within the gift horse's mouth. Machines as I understood them were built not upon sweet sentiments, but rather on cold, unfeeling logic. Even if this AI was benevolent, there nevertheless had to be some reason behind its desires.
"If you are searching for some vile ulterior motive, I am afraid I will have to disappoint you. My decision to aid the Chitaan is based upon two simple factors: necessity and curiosity. On the one claw, without regular maintenance, I will shut down and 'die'. The Chitaan can provide me with this maintenance, and as such it is in my best interest to keep them healthy and alive for as long as possible. More importantly, however, is the matter of sapience itself. It is clear to me that my creators are no longer around. For such an advanced species to die out is not only tragic, but also provides a rather pessimistic paradigm with which to judge intelligent life. Your arrival here following the self-inflicted destruction of your own world further suggests that civilization is unstable: a race between innovation and eradication. Perhaps with the assistance of a being such as myself, I can prevent the Chitaan from suffering a similar fate and as such create a functional spacefaring civilization.“
At that moment, the motivations of this machine made perfect sense. “So that’s what this is,” I growled contemptuously, glancing behind myself to the cave entrance as Kritivek politely dispersed the other worshippers. “It's all just a science experiment to you…”
"Perhaps my explanation was a tad overly clinical..." Replied the machine following a brief period of reassessment. "Make no mistake: I do care for Kritivek and his species. They are far more to me than variables on a spread sheet. Had I no love for them, then my experiments would surely spiral into abject cruelty."
Interrupting this line of conversation with a stern glare shot in my direction, Alice was next among our troupe to speak up. "Forgive Alan's weariness: he spent sixty years of his life alone maintaining our ship on its journey.”
“That sounds like a difficult use of one’s lifespan: especially one so long as those of your kind.” Omnus hummed, the low-pitch of his synthetic voice oddly relaxing.
“My combative behavior does have a reason!” I snapped at the physicist, my tone coming off as a bit more aggressive than intended. “Two thousand lives are in our hands and we need to find some place for them to settle.” As I spoke, my thoughts returned—as they so often did—to Mina. I made a promise to her mother that I would do everything in my power to take care of her, and I held no intention of going back on my word.
Hearing this, the AI fell silent for a long few seconds before at last dignifying my concerns with a response. “Perhaps I could be of some use to you…”
Behind us, the larger Chitaan clad in red stepped inside Omnus’ shrine room. Gently nudging me aside so as to access his ‘god’, the priest knelt down before this machine and with a low-pitched chitter began to commune with it. “Lord Omnus. Forgive my intrusion most indiscreet, for there is one amongst us who desperately seeks your aid.”
“Apologies, Humans: before we continue this riveting conversation, I must first tend to the concerns of my pod.” Began the AI, promptly shifting its focus toward the priest and addressing him directly. “You are forgiven, my child. Speak freely and tell me to whom I can be of assistance.”
“It is Vevik, my lord…” Clicked the priest in red, his tone strained somewhat by what I presumed to be emotion. “His daughter has fallen deathly ill. Our apothecaries have attempted to purge her body of the illness using your divinely-taught potions, but their efforts have been to no avail.”
“I presume Vevik is outside. Invite him inside so that I may hear his prayers.”
“As you demand, Lord Omnus!” Exclaimed the priest, shuffling off toward the cave entrance before returning with a smaller Chitaan whose eyes were just about level with Alex’s forehead.
“Speak, my child…” Hummed the AI, its monotone voice somehow underlined by a tenderness almost unnoticeable against the grinding of its ancient gears. “Tell me the nature of your offspring’s affliction.”
Immediately falling to his knees before the clockwork god, this Chitaan who I presumed to be Vevik began to pray in response. “Great one: my beloved Yitika is most terribly ill. Her body is plagued by violent bouts of seizure. She struggles to speak and walks as though drunken. When she does manage to communicate, she complains of splitting pain within her mind. Please, Omnus: I know that the [six years] I have spent with her have been in themselves gifts most priceless, and I have no right to implore you for more, but I beg of thee not to take her from me so soon…”
What followed must have been two minutes straight of silence from the computer as its gears ground away fervently. “The symptoms you have described to me are most troubling…” It concluded at last. “And you say none of the medications I’ve taught the apothecaries were effective?”
"Yes, Lord Omnus. Even your draught of respite has done little to ease her suffering!" Vevik affirmed, his tone saturated with desperation.
"I calculate a 94% chance that Yitika's suffering is the result of a brain tumor..." Continued the AI in cold, calculating monotone. "Alleviating such an illness is not impossible, but there are certain things I must ask of you, Vevik."
Hearing this, the Chitaan knelt before Omnus began to weep with joy. "I will undergo any trial you place before me, my god. What beast need I slay? What ritual need I complete to prove my unending faith and loyalty to you?"
"Retrieve for me one thistle of frojeth and two bilvarian roots. Bring these ingredients and your child to the bed of revival [six miles] east of here. Beware, however, the faithless tribes, for they have taken up residence in the area."
"We are unworthy even to be in your presence, o great one; yet still you do not forsake us in our times of need!" Professed Vevik before the AI, his body quivering with some emotion my Cogitolink struggled to identify .
"That, my child, is where you are incorrect." The machine responded rather matter-of-factly. "Your people are worthy of every gift I hath given you. Archpriest Jokuk: your task is to assist Vevik in gathering the ritual components. Go now in peace, for I wish to commune privately with these beings from the stars."
Chittering out their parting prayers of protection to the AI, Jokuk and Vevik wasted little time in exiting the cave and setting off in search of the ingredients mentioned by their god, leaving the three of us alone with it once more. "Again, I must apologize for that interruption." Omnus began, its gears having slowed down to a somewhat more relaxed rate of revolution. “Fascinated as I am by your arrival here, I nevertheless must fulfill my ‘divine’ obligations. I hope you do not terribly mind.”
Fortunate though it was for Vevik, this machine’s intervention nevertheless left the three of us with more questions than answers. “You mentioned something about a ‘bed of revival’?” Alice began curiously, voicing but one of our newfound gaps in knowledge. “What sort of ritual item is that, and why can’t you just make another here?”
“It is not a ritual item,” replied Omnus matter-of-factly, “The bed of revival is an automated surgery bay hooked up to one of my subsystems. With it, I can perform complex surgical operations far beyond the Chitaan’s current capabilities. Those herbs I sent Vevik to collect can be used as rudimentary anesthetics and antiseptics."
"So why not just tell them the truth?" I shrugged, curious as to why this AI would feel the need to lie by omission regarding something like surgery.
"When communicating with people so technologically primitive as the Chitaan, it is important to do so in terms they can understand. There will come a day when they will be ready to hear the whole truth, but as of yet my worshippers remain unprepared."
Alex never was one to wait his turn when it came to the procurement of knowledge, and as per usual he felt the need to interject with an inquiry of his own. "You spoke about the so-called 'faithless tribes' like they're dangerous," he began, his expression briefly tightening up as though the term itself was somehow bitter. "Why demonize people who don't worship you?"
"What sort of narcissist do you take me for?" Replied Omnus in monotone displeasure, his gears again churning against each other as he turned over the xenobiologist's question in his analog mind. "Not all tribes who do not follow me are 'faithless'. There are many as-of-yet unconverted groups that Kritivek's people remain on amicable terms with. Faithless is a term first coined by my Chitaan followers to describe a group of particularly brutal raider tribes."
Hearing this, the underlined aggression within Alex's voice fizzled out in favor of grim understanding. Though clearly quite peaceful compared to our own iron age, this civilization nevertheless would naturally have its own barbaric holdouts. "Okay... What makes these Chitaan more dangerous than other raiders?"
"One substantial part of it is their belief system," explained the AI, pausing for a long while as though in recollection. "Their cultural power structure can best be described as an atheistic militaristic gerontocracy. In essence, the faithless believe that rather than gods, the universe is governed by fundamental truths, and that these truths become more apparent as one ages and grows."
On Earth, such a belief system would be relatively innocuous: no more harmful than the average. On a planet like this one, however, on which age turns people into cannibalistic monsters, I could most definitely see the problem. "Let me guess: they worship the mad ones?"
"Correct. The faithless regard mad ones as the wisest beings to exist, and as such seek to emulate their behaviors: cannibalism and animalistic violence chief among them. In their society, the larger one can grow before truly losing their sanity and therefore 'ascending' to the state of a mad one, the more power and respect they are given within society." Another long pause fell over the shrine room as this machine seemed to contemplate before speaking out yet again. "Perhaps I could make you an offer..."
"Let's hear it," Alice shrugged, her husband mirroring the reply with an affirmative nod.
Loud clacking sounds like those of a typewriter rattled out of the console as a sliver of ancient parchment inscribed with what looked to be a map slid out from a previously-unseen paper slot. "This map depicts the local area," explained Omnus. "If you can clear out the faithless ones so that Vevik can bring his child to the bed of revival, I will provide you with assistance in setting up a new colony for your species. Deal?"
Awkwardly plucking the paper from it's resting place and scanning it over with my ancient eyes, I contemplated carefully what this deal might entail. "We'll need to back to the Evandra first. There, we could theoretically thaw out a crew to help clear the place..."
"That will not be an issue," replied Omnus confidently. "I will send battle priests to assist you in your return... Assuming, of course, that we have an agreement?"
"We could definitely use this guy's help!" Alex affirmed, prompting a similar expression of agreement from Alice. Nevertheless, however, I still was the captain, and as such this was my choice.
And with that, I reached out my hand reflexively as though expecting the computer to reach back and shake it. "Deal..."

The following are some tips for trading on CUE (the best card app!!) I’ve picked up over 8 years on multiple card trading apps and would like to pass on that may not be common knowledge.
I’m not writing this out of frustration or anything lol. I’ve been around long enough and have seen it all xD. I write this because I wish I knew this when I started out or wasn’t as experienced, but once I applied it, it made a big difference.
My game has always been trading & collecting, so I applied myself to learn how to do it the best I can and it’s worked for me and I feel it would be of benefit to share.
This is not a sure fire guide as everyone manages their collections their way and values are subjective but more some info to help out. No trade is ever 100% gonna happen but this will give you the best possible shot :)
The most successful trades tend to be equal value ones, especially if it’s the same 1:1 value for each player. Logical, right?
Of course with values, trades may have multiple cards to help balance values but that’s usually a pre trade discussion or for more advanced trading, I’m referring to general, more common trades where you want a specific card.
1:1 value for value is your best bet. We all see quantity low end stuff for 1 good/great card and those usually end in a decline. Mostly because it’s one of the most common trades you will see and that’s usually not considered an overpay, just quantity.
So it helps to find/learn values or ask pre trade to get an evaluation if needed. This alone won’t 100% be accepted either. This should, however, be applied as often as you can though. Taking the time to learn values is the most important tool you can have for trading, it’s worth the time investment if you can.
Another variable is what to do if the person you’re trading with is complete/doesn’t need any card you have.
In this situation, while still applying the above 1:1 value, look for a card you have of equal value that they have less of, better yet if they don’t have a dupe and have a few of what you want from them.
It’s usually logical to balance dupes, it gives them a card to unlock or they have little of to trade for what they’re looking for while still potentially leaving them dupes of the card you’re taking. In the case they have 1 dupe of the card you want, send one they don’t have a dupe of. They’re more likely to decline if you take their last dupe and you’re giving them a card they already have dupes of even if same value because it takes a card out of play for one they have available already.
This next one is more my personal trading rule, but I feel it’s worth a mention. Respect people’s collections. I don’t send trades for singles. Unless it’s pre discussed I won’t send for them. Most people want to keep cards they have and not chase them again, I feel if they want to trade them, they’ll send it. So I only look for dupes. The only exception is when I go to counter and I see their original offer was a single on their side, this tells me they’re willing to trade a single so I’ll counter to one if there’s one I’m looking for. There’s more to this and I’ll touch on it another time.
Next, assume when you sent a trade and it was declined, they looked for a counter. I always do(look for a counter and assume they did too if I sent). It can irritate some people seeing the same trade repeated or slightly different cards but essentially the same value wise. The person you sent to knows with the first trade what you want, if they change their mind they’ll most likely send to you.
This is more for the novice/less experienced players, do not trade your level up cards. They can be difficult to get back. Especially the few ones that have value. Also, do not accept level ups from others, many don’t have much value and it’s common to see them be sent for limited cards. Until you’re familiar with values I’d recommend just not dealing with them or at least ask for an evaluation before hand.
Next, Some tips for dealing with collectors (not because I am one, but because they’re on every card app lol).
I have always been a collector and most of my dealings in all card apps I’ve been on are mainly with them, so here’s some stuff I see often that may help.
Most likely if they collect multiple copies of a card, they’re on a social platform. We usually have somewhere to post exactly what we offer so it’s worth while to check it out for successful trades as we trade exactly what we offer.
Next is a big no in my books and I’ve seen it often on these apps. Don’t try to push thru a bad trade by adding in a card they collect. For example, don’t send a low value Limited Legendary for a high value one 1:1 and add on their basic card they collect. It will usually not get accepted.
Half the time if you followed everything above then the collectors card may not be needed at all. Trust me collectors aren’t usually only after their cards, they do fair, logical trades also. Just makes sense lol.
If you want to trade a collector a card they collect and you are not sure what they offer for it, send it for something of the same value 1:1. Taking an overpay without knowing what over pay they offer could get declined. Collectors will usually send an overpay themselves or, again, post exactly what they offer which is usually an overpay as is.
I know it can take some time but hopefully these subtle but valuable tips lend to helping you improve your trading game.
This again isn’t an end all for getting every trade accepted as other factors can be involved, value, scarcity etc. But, they’ve been key for me and a staple for successful trading on every card app I’ve been on and hope they help you as well.
If you have any questions please comment/reply and I’ll do my best to respond. Please keep in mind this is very bare bones. I plan to do other segments when I have time to elaborate more :)
I’m hoping to touch on some of the other trading and collecting aspects and strategies of the game down the road. Until then, Happy Trading!
I apologize for the length but I wanted to be as precise and clear as possible so you, the reader, would benefit the most from it :)

I posted this guide on vce but thought a condensed version might be more appropriate here.
Centrelink is a government agency that provides financial support to millions, but you need to be really careful when dealing with them. They're known for strictly adhering to rules and won't hesitate to penalize you on a technicality.
Student Support:
If you apply as a student, maintain a full-time study load. Your university won't directly collaborate with Centrelink and may not always offer enough subjects per semester to keep you at full-time status, but Centrelink will not care, they'll still demand their money back.
If you're not studying full-time in a semester, Centrelink will demand the money back, not just for that semester but for all semesters afterwards (even if you studied those full-time).
Centrelink doesn't even care if your universities's official study guide explicitly advised you to do less units for that particular semester! They expect a full time load for each individual semester and will demand the money back regardless.
If you change courses or pursue a double degree, remember to cancel and reapply for Youth Allowance. Centrelink will consider this a new program and require you to reapply, regardless of your study hours.
It's always best to clarify with you university about what constitues a full-time study load. But generally, it is 4 units or more a semester, or 3 units or more a trimester.
Appeals and Assistance: If Centrelink ever demands repayment, stay calm. They aren't bikies, and jail terms are expectionally rare for simply failing to pay them back (and are usually very short in the odd event it happens)
You can appeal to the Administrative Appeals Tribunal (AAT) on compassionate or technical grounds. You can also always negotiate a reasonable payment plan to pay them back. Centrelink sometimes makes mistakes even when you've done nothing wrong. In these cases speak politely with their staff, and if necessary, escalate your case to the AAT.

Successor : u/Intel81994
Hi,
I first found this subreddit and Neville's works in 2018 so I thought I'd share my success/experiences.
I've never posted here, only lurked... daily. I often see people post tiny wins in here like manifesting a test result or a few hundred dollars. I don't see many huge wins except occasionally, or multi-year life changing creations.
Well, I'm not where I want to be bc my goals have gotten a lot bigger, but I've come a long way and finding this work in 2018 changed my life so I want to share with you how.
Not to discourage, but small wins are nothing compared to the deep life changes and incredible abundance you can create in knowing who you really are - just think - there are people out there, several, who own $10M+ houses, multi-millionaires, many came from nothing.
I'm not saying that's the only thing worth striving for or even the source of joy, of course. But my point is anything you want, someone else out there has done it, they are just humans like myself and you.
So here's how my life turned around since 2018 and what I created. The HOW I did so is no different than what you already read on this sub every day.
Neville has been my favorite teacher and this is the MAIN sub I have read over the last few years. I own all of his books and have read them several times.
I regard his methods as most influential for me. This may come off as some motivational story but truth is I use Neville's methods daily and always try to understand and control my beliefs to grow.
Here is how my life changed completely after DOING the work:

• MONEY/TRAVEL : I went from -50k in debt running my own online fitness coaching business at my lowest point not knowing how I would pay rent (long story but I was young and not skilled enough in business at this time to really build a team and 7 figure business like I wanted),

to acquiring amazing skills being an intrapreneur working in a small startup online with a terrific mentor (I manifested this exact position with SATS), traveled the world a crazy amount in the exact places I had wanted to and met a ton of cool people (SATS), over 27 countries now, and grew my net worth to over 250k from 2018-2021.
To my current goals, this is really nothing now and I now surround myself with people doing a ton more than me. So I'm not preaching here, it's just levels to the game right.
I now work professionally in the crypto industry, but also have skills and knowledge to a few types of online businesses in the consulting & marketing space, as well as make money from markets/trading, which is a great vehicle because there are effectively no limits.
I can live anywhere I want, have plenty of cushion and money to live mostly how I want (have larger goals now), have time freedom as well, and most of all, love growth and feel great striving for more. I did SATS to get my current gig.
I've also been trading the last 2 years and no it's not easy, in fact you're competing against algorithms and the best minds in the world so the learning curve is quite steep.
Trading is not easy money, but the potential is there. Besides, trading is just one vehicle, it's not value-additive to the market like businesses are, so I believe it's best used in conjunction with a business/job, and investing longer term is better.
Anyway I turned <40k into ~350K in crypto, and a separate stock portfolio last year.
And yes a lot of that crypto growth was market timing and luck with everything going on, monetary policy and all, and I know people who turned less into several million and also plenty who got liquidated and lost millions. I still spent a lot of time and skill to create that, point is I created all of it in various forms.

• FITNESS/HEALTH: I achieved a more fit and better body than 98% of men have. This was a result of hard work plus these methods and was in 2018 when I decided to undergo a bodybuilding prep for a photoshoot. Great size, leanness, abs, I had been lifting for years but never gotten this in shape.

It was not easy, but I looked incredible, and the exact city/water background scene I had visualized for the photos happened. You can scroll to my IG posts from early 2018 for pics proof.
My health is impeccable and I've for sure made other physical changes, and I think I somehow changed my gf's looks to become better over time too. She was always quite cute though. I'm still very much in shape but now do yoga daily for last few years, as well as lifting.

• LOCATION/LIVING: I manifested the EXACT view I used to visualize in the center of my major city, with a gorgeous view of the ocean and city both, for a great price and have lived here for last 3 years now. In a luxury high rise. I can see ships and yachts right outside my balcony every day. It's literally grander than I even knew to imagine just 5 years ago.
  
• MORE FINANCE: Over the last 2 years my investments and more were doing so well sometimes - not always - that I often was able to have some months making 20-40k, point is I was not worried about work.
  

I also believe parallel realities are real and I used to visualize Bitcoin going to 50k back in 2019 when it had stayed below <10k for 2 years. This was not all due to bitcoin, but rather all sorts of investments, but yes crypto as well.
Some was luck, some was skill and work. All was my creation. I also got quite decent at trading and managing a portfolio that I not only managed to publicly call the exact day of the market TOP in november 2021 but also sniped the bottom in July. Intuition plus knowledge.
So I kept this money, it is not bleeding out in my portfolio with the market. I've devoted a LOT into mastering this craft but again, self concept and Neville helped.
I got hacked for 60k-70k a few months back and chose to give it new meaning and manifested a career change to crypto industry, landing a position making over 10k per month (I'm not happy with this at my current standards of income, but I'm grateful), that I am growing to 20k per month of active income now with other streams.
What's interesting in my recent career manifestation is I decided I want a position that basically pays me to do what I already do (I was independently researching and managing a multi-6 figure crypto portfolio... over a quarter million dollars combined money that I was managing. )
I now get paid a full time 6 fig salary to do nothing extra from what I was already doing and barely work on the actual job with plenty of time for other stuff.
I just decided it was done and that's it. Also of course it's remote... knowing what I know, I will only consider remote jobs (never worked in a physical office and I've actually never had a w2 job before this, always doing sales and stuff or my own thing).
I have been working on increasing my standard to 25k per month minimum of active income generation. Had a lot of ideas come through. I’m just not the type to have a job I think but I have to figure out what I can build again.
Compared to who I want to be at a later date that’s also nothing much. Again, levels to the game.
Now also working on growing a business in this space. This hack event was pretty traumatic but I now see how I 100% manifested it. And I can choose to also create something far greater out of the event now.
With every job I've ever had, I've never worked in an office. I've only ever been remote or online because this is the only thing I was willing to accept. Being a digital nomad has been my norm since I graduated college.
Be specific in what you want and do not settle.
I went to a top 5 US public university and even manifested myself to lead a large pre-med club on campus (I was a pre med student) before I knew Neville. I'm now very glad I chose to go my own route instead of medicine for several reasons beyond scope of this post but anyway.

• SP: Manifested my SP (gf) back in 2018 and we have a great relationship going on 6 years now (together since 2016). I focus more on self love and feeling I AM God rather than seeking it externally. My consciousness and inner connection is my source of sustenance.
  
• Honestly there are so many other crazy little things I can't possibly keep track. Every day I have synchronicities like crazy still. I don't give them much meaning but just take it to mean that I am aligned.
  

My best mental model/tips

• Delude yourself into knowing that imagination is MORE real than the 3d. The 3d is 'old news.' Meaning it's a shadow world. The real creation is happening in your imagination, and there is a time lag in this physical world.

Live in your imagination and tune out anything that does not serve keeping you in an optimal state where you feel in control. The more you focus on things that are meant to distract you or displease you, which state do you create from?

• I do SATS during the day, works fine for me, I don't think it matters much if day/night, but you need to do it. Follow a guided hypnosis session to get deeper into trance first if it helps.
  
• Act and trust deeply that life is leading you to what you want, and the meaning you give to events is literally what molds your future. Choose empowering meanings. Stop being a victim.
  

Make a resolve to never think of yourself as a victim of forces out there, the economy, evil people, whatever it is. You want to control your reality then act like it internally.

• Make a daily routine checklist and stick to it so you internally feel in control of your reality. Mine is: SATS or revision, meditate or breathwork, EFT or writing, cold shower, no phone in the morning, wake at 6am, and of course I exercise daily in some form. I use a spreadsheet to make sure I hit my routines for the day so I don't be a victim but rather stay in control. This is critical for me.
  
• As long as you occupy the realms of consciousness that you want, the result WILL come via downloads and hunches and thoughts, and insane physical things will happen that will 'seem like it would have happened anyway' so don't worry about the how.
  

Random Musings
The thing with manifesting is we sometimes take a passive route and wait for things to happen to us (and sure this is fine and still works), but think- if you don't grow your mental, emotional, skills container to deal with large amounts of money, or a team, or skills to sell and market and manage money... if you suddenly get 500K or 1M, how are you going to hold on to it?
If you lack personal power and execution skills, say you suddenly win 5M from the lottery, do you have the skills to keep it and make decisions at a level that can fluctuate several millions? It's stressful and requires thinking completely differently.
You have to 'stress test' your consciousness and expand your container.
I know that because I got hacked (stolen) ~70k it means nothing because the version of me who makes multi-7 figures a year deals with fluctuations of multi-6 figures in his portfolio all the time, it's part of the game. and I HAVE dealt with 6 figure fluctuations in my portfolio before this hack so it wasn't super new in that sense.
You know time is not real, it's all happening now, Creation is already finished, so you should also know that the way to 'hack' time is making decisions from a place of the future version of yourself you already are.
Make a commitment to stop playing small and settling for crumbs. Why would you get hung up on the one limited way your ego thinks that abundance has to manifest in your life, or love, instead of just feeling the emotions themselves, knowing it's done, and letting your life color it in in grander ways than you could have imagined.
Funny little manifestations and things happen literally every day that I just take it as reflections of me being in my creative power.
Something crazy/funny that happened was on our last trip, I told my girlfriend 'hey, how funny and weird would it be to see a parrot meowing?' - then next day we sit at a cafe and there is a parrot in a cage outside, meowing loudly. The most bizarre manifestation, I didn't even intend for it, just asked hey would it not be funny. Things like this happen so often, I can't keep track.
There is nothing new to learn. Just do the techniques and do self care rituals and get lost in your work. Feel the feeling of utter abundance and freedom now and it will happen.
We live in an advanced economy with the internet, it has never been easier to start or fund a business compared to even 50 years ago (see interest rates), distribution has never been easier, so if you know these tools, why would you not create the biggest dream you can imagine? Why settle for a free $200?
I realize there are levels people go through however so I don't mean to belittle, but now that I have been through so much and grown, I know there is nothing separating myself from multi millions and VC's and creators of large companies except belief, work, and time in this reality.
I have the knowledge, belief, and skills to not need a job if I don't want one. I can instead offer something to the market and be independent.
I'm telling you this stuff works and is sustainable. You can be as specific as you want and get whatever you want, and trust that with the turns life takes you through, it is a BRIDGE meant to turn you into the person to get and sustain what you say you want. Decide it and it is so.
I am someone who is a first generation American immigrant, my parents moved to the US from India when I was 5 and we had very little here. I grew up 'lower' middle class, and didn't have the best money programming from parents, but I always did well in school.
I KNOW I am going to be the first multi millionaire in my family. It's all in how you think about yourself/self concept and the work you do from that mindset. Do actions and shift your environment in accordance with who you want to be.
I always splurge on self care now and do things like fly business class or pay more for a better room because that's who I internally am. Just find a way to produce more and let it flow instead of shrinking yourself to be someone you’re not in your 4D
I don't try to scrimp and penny pinch, I let money flow. Even though getting stolen 70k was traumatic, oh well, I chose to give it a better, empowering meaning and my reality shifted.
That's all I have to say. Do the work. Stop procrastinating with learning. All the teachers, scripture, it's all the same Truth at the core. Learning is fine because you learn different mental models at different points of your life but you need to do the work.
I've been fortunate to not only have explored TONS of teachers and books in this realm, you name it I've probably read it or have a copy, I've also HAD mentors and WORKED directly under multi millionaires older and more experienced than me who know this work very well and knew Neville specifically, and it's the real deal. I did sales for someone in the online coaching space was was very well off and had decades of success and spoke of Neville very often, it was really cool.
Proof of the Law
I don't know what more proof you need that the Law is real. All religions throughout eternity have known this, Neville just distilled the same Truth through his own methods that work really well in my opinion and I personally love his interpretation of scripture.
The most successful people in the world are usually consciously (and some unconsciously) doing these same actions. Just do the work and focus on it coming from a good place of knowing that it's done. You don't need to know HOW but you just need to know the plane is going to somehow land one day.
I just come back to Neville every time, because his methods are simple and philosophies work well for how I think. I've done tons of psychedelic mushrooms over the years which luckily made me very open to this sort of thinking, before that I was very rigid and too '3d scientific' minded in my thinking. Keep in mind there is actually nothing 'unscientific' about the Law... modern science has its own limitations in that we cannot measure many things.
What used to be called magic in years past is now under the realm of science right? I'm not saying I don't value logic and science... I have a science degree from a top 5 university.
I'm just saying your ego mind which wants to keep you stuck and surviving uses the excuse of logic and science when that's actually not the full scope of how reality works, we are incredibly limited in our conscious understanding of reality.... we don't even know what we're doing here on a floating rock in infinite space and we can hardly see much of the light spectrum as it is.
So remember that when your ego tries to believe in your limitations and the 3d reality only. You being here is magic that even the most advanced science does not know the answer to. Do scientists know fundamentally why there is something at all instead of nothing?
Anyway, one more thing is I've never been shy of making relatively bold and fast decisions, investing in a mentor (for business) and just generally betting on myself.
Because getting around people who think bigger than you and don't settle is a hack and it's worth every penny. There is a reason millionaires hang with other millionaires.
I'm not saying to cut people out of your life (unless toxic) but rather to seek proximity and get around winners or pay to join some mastermind in business or whatever you need to do to network in your realm.
Just last week I invested 7.5k for get into a network of high performing young male entrepreneurs just because I want a better network in real life and work on business tactics and execution. When I was 23 I invested 25k that I did not have at the time (I made it happen and earned it back) to get a business mentor. So I use all of this in combo with Neville's methods primarily. I really like revision method as well.
The act of DECISION literally creates a parallel reality and becomes the new bridge to your manifestation.

My sister has been a best friend of mine since we were kids. We were the total attached at the hip package. You couldn’t find us in a room not playing around and getting into mischief.
My older brother and I turned out to be the successful ones (as of now), whereas my sister always struggled and would take 2 steps forward and 1 back.
About 2 years ago, she was in a super abusive and toxic relationship. I offered to let her move in with me in a different state to launch her into a better situation. She agreed and moved in for a year. Around that time, she met a girl and they started dating. It has been a great relationship, the first stable one, but my sister has fallen into some poor habits.
I travel a lot for work, like maybe 2 weeks out of every month, and so I never could tell my sister was developing a drinking habit. I’d see a lot of cans, but when you’re gone for 2 weeks you can’t assume it was a nightly thing. Anyways, she moved out and for 7-8 months it seemed like her and her girlfriend were the real deal. About 2 months ago, her girlfriend starting telling me about their issues, and it revolved around my sisters drinking. It started small, but it has snowballed into hiding it, bingeing, tantrums when caught and the full 9 yards. Her gf finally had enough, and asked her to leave the house.
She asked me if she could move into my new home, and while I love my sister, I have far too often taken the savior role and am in therapy trying to be better about not taking on others burdens. I told her no, not because I didn’t love her, but because she needed to learn to save herself and pull herself up.
She freaked out. Said I was being a terrible brother and that I didn’t care about her at all and wanted her to get worse. That I was taking revenge on her for when she abandoned me (long story, rough childhood and she dipped at the lowest point) and that I clearly thought I was better than her.
I don’t, at all, but I know if I let her in it won’t get better, and my life will become going behind and trying to catch her and help her. It’s not my place to do it, and I think she needs to move home and seek out inpatient facilities.
AITA?

Tier List: https://imgur.com/a/8uZCpGy
Oh boy, is this one gonna be a can of worms. Let's dive in headfirst!
"I'll school you in this battle of the baddest Bruce, with your He-Man haircut and your Daisy Dukes." It's an unremarkable line, but the rhythm here is pretty kickass, and I love the choregraphy of Jenner doing stretches in time with the beat, it's a really satisfying visual. "I hear you're good at running, you're just like the Flash. Especially in the 100-meter ditch-your-wife dash." Decent attack. They never fail to use someone getting divorced as material for a diss, do they? Banner looming over his beakers and microscope is a nice visual, and "You turned one gold medal to a lifetime of green; the most overrated athlete anyone's ever seen" is a competent enough attack. "You need to carry fatherhood across that finish line; kept up with the Kardashians but left some kids behind" is, again, a decent enough diss. A lot of material about Jenner's family here; I guess that's to be expected. There's still one or two much more obvious lines of attack to make, but I suppose Banner is just saving his best stuff for the end, right? He certainly wasn't saving it for the end of this verse, in which he just references the fact that he transforms when he gets pissed off without fashioning it into much of an attack or boast. The use of strings in the music here is a really nice touch, although I'd say the green screen effect with Bruce standing in front of those neurons or whatever ain't looking so hot.
Actually, the green screen effects for this battle broadly aren't the best. That stadium Jenner's standing in is looking pretty low-res. "I think you're in your element when you're behaving badly; honestly you're kind of boron when you're happy." It's a corny pun, but the sentiment is true enough. "I'll lap and pass your ass ten different ways. Decathlon athlete blast through you like some gamma rays." This is filler; it's fine, rhythm sounds pretty good, but it's just taking up space. "The truth is there's no truce between the Bruces, you're a drifter being useless, I'm a winner, no excuses!" That's a lot of playing on the same rhyme in a short period of time, and I dig that: truth/truce/Bruces/useless/excuses, hell yeah. I guess some of those aren't proper rhymes so much as, what's the word... assonance, maybe? It's good writing, is the point. The visuals panning in and out of this home gym is a nice touch too, and a nice parallel to Banner's sequence with his lab. "Beatiful women all up on my jock, I got a home gym, check me on the cereal box, Doc!" The rhythm Jenner's spitting here rules, this beat is low-key one of the better ones they've done. It's also a nice boast, and that Wheaties visual is pretty great. "You big green freak, don't try to flex; if it wasn't for your cousin, you'd never have sex!" Okay, this line goes super hard and I think it's one of the most underrated ones in ERB history. AND it's got one of the funniest visuals in the way Jenner pops in on that roller shouting "OHH!" while Banner suffers. That bit lives rent-free in my head. "You're so strong when you get mad, too bad you can't go back to protect your mom from your dad!" Holy fucking SHIT, this goes hard! The flow here kicks all kinds of ass, and we've got a 3x rhyme combo going on with mad/bad/dad; I LOVE odd numbers of rhymes! It's also just an extremely savage low blow. Another line that doesn't get enough credit. Jenner is kicking Banner's ass so far.
One questionable and inadvisable transformation sequence later, The Hulk comes in to spit a few bars. But only a few. "That painted face don't give you class; just one more thing Bruce do for cash!" Interesting argument. "Best thing you make? Kylie ass! She eighteen? Hulk SMASH!!" I do think this is a pretty funny way to reduce Jenner's legacy to Kardashian bullshit, and the Hulk SMASH joke always gets a strong reaction out of people.
Fully transitioned Caitlin Jenner comes in with "That's my teenage daughter, man, I have to forbid this; I'll put a javelin through your jolly green discus." Decent lines. Good way for Caitlin Jenner to brag about her athletic achievements while also throwing a Jolly Green Giant jab in. "Kylie not the kinda girl I'm gonna let you smash on; you'll get the medal without the decathlon!" I like the medeal/metal wordplay here, although Caitlin Jenner dual-wielding pistols and firing them at the Hulk feels extremely out of left field.
"Hulk is Hulk! No identify as man! Me thinks Cait might understand!" Pretty funny line, and Caitlin's reaction is also amusing. "No gender issue; this Jenner issue! Just you being you is enough to diss you!" So that's it, then? They're really not going to bring that one thing up, eh? I feel like that closing line would land a lot better if they did.
"Look I understand that you hate yourself; but you don't need to blame yourself." Oh, huh. That's different. Let's see where this therapy session goes. "You're a tiger, stop trying to tame yourself; you gotta be big enough to contain yourself." Well... I like that she's mixing things up by rhyming with the penultimate word instead of the last word, that's always something. Beyond that, I don't think these lines are accomplishing much. "And get hit with a little forgiveness! Be green, it ain't none of my business!" That line's pretty funny, as is the tea-sipping visual. "But if you think you're looking good in those torn-ass clothes; you're lying, which means you need a new wardrobe!" That's a reference to The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, which has absolutely nothing to do with this matchup. Feels out of place because of it. And it's not a very strong diss besides, feels like padding. Doubly strange to end her verse on it. "The visions of those shorts kinda scarred me; what'd you just rage at a Barney themed party?" Oh, there's more? Alright. This burn is really lame. Barney jokes? Come aaaaaaaahhhhhn, what are we doing here? That line should have definitely been left on the cutting room floor. "That's probably not something you seen as a child; not one day did you see your daddy smile!" Okay. She already established that Hulk's father was abusive in her first verse, and while it was a powerful blow there, here it feels much more toothless. "Hulk not strong enough to deal with denial! Laying you down easy; that's kitchen tile!" The first line is pretty amusing with how Caitlin imitates The Hulk's speech, but that second line... why? Pretty weaksauce way to finish her performance off, but whatever. Also not a fan of these visuals with the diamonds, feels like they wanted to add some visual flair but couldn't think of a good way to do it so they settled on Caitlin popping out of diamonds which is just odd. "Examine this under your microscope; you've got no neck, but you still fucking choked!" Oh. This verse is still going? Okay. Well, it's a good line. "After battling me, you're gonna always be pissed! So the Hulk will stay forever, neither Bruce will exist!" You know, that's actually a pretty strong closer, but I can't help but feel like it's undercut by just how long that verse was dragging on.
Okay, so. I feel it should be pointed out that there's a lot of people who were always going to hate this battle for making the decision not to attack Caitlin for being trans. Furthermore, the overwhelming sentiment has been that Banner won this; it bears keeping in mind that there's a lot of transphobes out there who were going to say the Hulk won no matter what happened simply because Caitlin is trans. So to that end, I think that a fair amount of the hate this battle gets, and the hate that Caitlin's performance gets, is bullshit. But there are still some big criticisms that need to be made.
So let's be honest: they threw the match for Caitlin. Or at least attempted to. You might still think the Hulk managed to win, but with that insanely long final verse it's pretty clear they tried to make Caitlin the 'canon' winner, as with Thomas Jefferson vs. Frederick Douglass. They did this presumably because it was pride month, and they wanted to say Trans Rights with a trans rapper that gets a positive portrayal. I can get behind that sentiment, but the execution is questionable to say the least.
Like... I'm not trans, but there's some shitty stuff going on here that's easy to see. For one, the cardinal rule that everybody knows is that you're not supposed to misgendedeadname a trans person, and the title of this battle is Bruce Banner vs. Bruce Jenner. So from the get-go, before the video even starts playing, we're getting some mixed signals here. Are we to take from this that they made the tactical decision to go ahead and deadname Caitlin for the sake of the matchup making intuitive sense(what with it obviously being a play on their similar names), and then try and do a hard pivot and make Caitlin win the battle to avoid criticism for that decision? Feels like maybe they could have just not gone with this matchup instead. The whole transformation element also seems dubious, but I could see someone reasonably landing either way on whether that's actually an issue or just silly fun, so I won't go into that.
Another issue to consider: Caitlin Jenner kind of sucks. Most people do not like her. Most TRANS people don't even like her. For one, despite the fact that she's trans, she is a Republican who has made anti-gay marriage comments in the past. The bizarre shittiness of a trans person being like that is a pretty ripe source of material for disses, yet this battle does not bring it up at all. And more notably than that, Caitlin Jenner was famously involved with a manslaughter case, where she was accused of getting someone killed due to negligent driving. It was ultimately determined that there wasn't enough evidence for manslaughter and so she wasn't found guilty(though it's widely believed that this decision was bullshit and she did commit manslaughter), but it's an extremely well-known and controversial factoid and it's insane they didn't have Banner bring up as a diss. If you're going to have a rapper make the case of "Just you being you is enough to diss you", seems like being a trans Republican and quite possibly committing vehicular manslaughter are the two strongest and most obvious points to go with. And yet... nothing. If your goal to make a battle that gives trans people positive representation, I feel like Caitlin Jenner seems like a pretty poor choice. I get that there aren't a lot of choices for a trans rep with name recognition or ample material to work with, but... the Wachowski sisters are right there.
Another thing is... why is it a moral imperative that Caitlin win this battle? Sure she's trans, and it's cool want to give trans people positive representation, but you didn't need to give her an absurdly long verse at the end to do that. You could just give her good writing, refrain from shitting on her just for being trans, and sure, let her have the final word. Then, yes, show the pride flag at the end to say Trans Rights. That's all you had to do. With something like Jefferson v. Douglass the scale-tipping made sense, because it was a slave-owner vs. a slave. Yeah, it's kind of hard for the slave-owner to win that match, and it makes sense to use it as a vehicle to take a firm stand against slavery. But it's not like this battle is Trans Person vs. Transphobe; Bruce Banner isn't some horrible person that must be morally condemned(there's a much stronger case for Caitlin herself), so... why have it play out like this? I think that ironically, by trying to hand the match to Caitlin they wound up getting more hate thrown towards the performance and more people voting against her in polls than there otherwise would have been if they'd just cut out all that excessive padding and given her a solid closing verse. As-is the verse isn't good, the overall quality is dragged down by just how much fluff there is.
In the end, my read on the situation is this: for whatever reason, they really liked the idea of this matchup and wanted to go through with it. They knew that going through with it would necessitate making it Bruce Banner vs. Bruce Jenner at the start, so they bit the bullet on the deadnaming and the conceit for the matchup and did everything they could to mitigate the potential backlash for that, going as soft on Caitlin as possible and giving her a verse that was ridiculously lengthy. People always say "but it's the Hulk, it makes sense he wouldn't say much!" and sure, I can buy that as an excuse as to why Caitlin's verse would be longER than his, but that still doesn't account for why it's as insanely long as it is. In any case... this paragraph is just speculation, I can't know their actual motivations, but I think this is likely what happened.
Anyway... despite all, this battle gets way too much hate. I think Jenner's first verse is really good, and the Hulk is also quite solid for as few lines as he gets. Bruce Banner is a little mediocre and Caitlin's last verse ends up just being a pain in the ass to sit through(could've been good if they cut all the fat and left in the handful of good lines) that's best skipped past on repeat listens. But still... there's some stuff here that is thoroughly enjoyable. I don't think this battle quite manages to be good, but it's got enough going for it that I think it manages to avoid being outright bad. I'm putting this in the top of C tier, because I genuinely think it's more enjoyable than all of the battles that are below it.
It's understandable to say that The Hulk beat Jenner's second verse, but I think her first verse was pretty fire and the highlight of the battle. I think she edges out a win, but a case could be made either way.
Let me end things off by saying this: I once watched this battle with an extremely transphobic relative, and he was pissed off by that "no gender issue, this Jenner issue" line. So even if this battle was a regrettable mistake, at least they did something right.

I am not The OOP, OOP is u/ThrowRA29329323
Me 25M grew up with parents 48F and 52M who had an open marriage it sort of messed me up and my parents wants to know why I had not spoken to them in almost four years.
Originally posted to relationship_advice
Previous BoRU posted by u/-bonita_applebum**
TRIGGER WARNING: depression, child neglect, mentions of bullying
While this was posted before, it has never been posted with the final update
Original Post July 31, 2021
I found out when I was around 12 that my parents liked to play around if you can call it that I did not get until I was around 14 what that really meant.
Anyways I kept my mouth shut and focused on myself and moved out when I was 18 and we have barely spoken since.
I ended up becoming very insecure I struggeled when it came to dating and girls and was alone for most of my teens, mom and dad was this perfect couple that was well liked by everyone.
All I can remember is how alone I felt during that time and was too afraid to speak to my parents about how I had it, they were always smiling and seemed to have the perfect marriage while they saw other people while I felt alone and miserable.
They used to go on weekend trips and was alone for many weekends and they rarely brought me along for vacations and I ended up being on my own when they did as well.
I struggle with depression and started seeing a therapist and are on antidepresseants right now, I just felt like I did not matter to my parents at all and see no real reason for why I should talk to them now.
I have not celebrated christmas with them or not been at home since I was 19 because I honestly have nothing but bad memories from living with them I just felt like I was in the way.
Not sure what I should do here my emotions are all over the place I don't think they know I struggle with depression.
Update Aug 4, 2021
I tried posting this earlier but yeah some other things have also happened so wanted to add that as well.
I dedided to write a letter but ended with me using that letter as reference to what I wanted to say to them instead.
I wrote the letter and actually just planned to drop in in their mailbox and just let them read it.
But honestly after so many years I needed to have the conversation with them so I did.
​
So I went home and surprise surprise dad and mom had a friend over, the woman who I ran into a few days ago let's call her Claire.
They were just sitting in the living room just talking I asked Claire politely to leave because I need to speak to my parents she said sure and she left, my parents understood I had something discuss and they did not argue.
​
Apperantly they were talking about me and Claire actually came over because she was worried about me after I basiclly ignored her the other day when I ran into her.
​
I sat down with my parents had the letter I had written and they understood I had a lot to say.
​
The whole thing was weird I sounded like a prosecutor trying to convince a jury of all my parents wrongdoings, it ended up being 40 minute indictment of my parents.
​
I went through all of it how alone I felt, me struggeling with depression, me seeing a therapist, on anti depresseants, me feeling since I was 11 that was always in the way, that I never mattered to them and that other people were always more important.
​
How Claire who was 25 the same age I am now when she started hanging around with you actually gave more of a damn than you did.
How you (dad) yelled at me when I messed up the settings on the dishwasher while you were away, I was 11 and did not know how it worked and that I offered to wash them by hand which I did.
​
I was bullied in school and was socially ackward, had no friends and was always alone both at school and at home.
​
I was 11 and had to deal with being alone on the weekends even christmas was weird and ackward I remember seeing families light christmas trees in our street seeing parents and their kids.
But you guys went to your christmas get togethers and only on christmas day were you home and I honestly felt alone then as well.
​
I have no such memories or felt any belonging whatsoever and now you keep asking me why I have barely spoken to you for four years ?
​
I don't know you and you never bothered to get to know me, other people were always more important.
​
When I found out and understood what you guys were into, I was even more mad why was that more important than me ??
​
How is it fair that you are happy and I am alone and miserable, it's not fair because you did this to me.
​
I have spent my childhood alone, my teens alone and now my twenties alone so far I never had a girlfriend because I struggle to trust people and have no idea how to get close to people.
​
You shared a picture of me on FB one of the few of us together from when I was a kid, saw Claire and your other GF comment on it how cute I was and what a great family we were.
Notice anything on those pictures ? I never smiled.
​
Why did you even have me to begin with clearly I was just a prop for you to show off to let others know what great parents you were, your FB profiles makes me sick to honest.
​
Dad wanted to say something and mom just looked stunned and she had tears, I just got up and left and that was that.
​
I never yelled or called them any names I was surprisingly calm I honestly felt numb walking out but also a lot lighter.
I left my sparekey to their place and just walked back to my place.
Mom has been texting and tried callin me I think they are both struggeling on what to say to me, I just demanded they remove the pictures of me from their FB which they did.
They do not get to pretend to the world like they were great parents anymore I refuse to be a prop.
So that's the update still gonna continue with my therapists or may need to find a new one.

NEW UPDATE

Update 2 - rareddit Oct 11, 2021
Just wanted to give an update and thank you for all the comments, I decided to switch therapists and the new one is better than my old one.
Still dealing with anxiety and feel very lonely sometimes, but trying to get through the day.
Had a long talk with mom who actually decided to stop by my place, she and I talked for almost three hours.
I decided not to berate her and instead just being honest and explain how my life has been and how I am dealing with a bunch of things.
It was as honest as it could get with me basiclly just sharing how I was doing, mom did not realize how bad it was and she just gave me a hug I don't know why but that helped, she was not sure what to say about everything and I don't really blame her.
She said come home for awhile especially at christmas you don't have to sit in your apartment alone, told her I would think about it.
Mom looks like she finally realized that I had been in pain for quite some time and her recognizing that is I guess what I really wanted like she finally got it.
So yeah progress I guess still not sure what the future holds, still feel very apathethic and my anxiety can get the best of me sometimes and have had days I feel very low like nothing matters anymore.
But I guess it's a step in the right direction
​THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT THE OOP
DO NOT CONTACT THE OOP's OR COMMENT ON LINKED POSTS, REMEMBER - RULE 7

Am I the only person experiencing this?
I am moving out of state and have been posting on Facebook marketplace, Craigslist, OfferUp- and I’ll have people ask me if an item is available and then just completely ghost me. Or they’ll say they will meet up and never show. I honestly feel so disheartened and feel like crying :/ it’s such a stressful process and the thing that sucks is I have such good quality stuff, it would just cost way too much to ship it.
I’m going to try here, if anything interests you let me know and I will work out a good deal for you. It only allows me to post so many pictures so if anything interests you ask me and I will send you pictures of it. Good and genuine Vegas locals please come through.
BRAND NEW TV STAND‼️ Still in box, never got a chance to use: Selling for $250 (picture is what it looks like when put together) 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE🌺
Outdoor backyard table set with 4 chairs, just got this for 770, selling it for $550- shoot me a message and I’ll give you a better price or send me your best offer. 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE🌺
(PRICE LOWERED‼️)✨Cherry wood desk / top quality wood Bought this for around 2000, selling for just $650 but will give you a better price- or send me your best offer. Willing to work with you 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE🌺
(PRICE LOWERED‼️) ✨65 inch Sony Bravia $550 + $75 Klipsch subwoofers and speaker: AVAILABLE ⭐️ and we made it a better deal for all of you so someone can enjoy. Must be bought together as a set to get this deal 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE🌺
3 piece wood set, living room Table, side table, table holding TV (can also be used for other things like putting pictures flowers etc) $300 for all 3 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE🌺
I have 1 great blender available: High, strong, speedy, quiet, works great. $25 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE🌺
BRAND NEW ‼️ still in case, never used : Floating shelf home decoration. This is your sign to beautify your home. You can put pictures on there, plants, vases, anything and it gives it more of a home like feel. Selling for $25 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE 🌺
Crystal home decor: $15 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE🌺
Food Processor: works great! $15 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE🌺
Portable stove: perfect for having shabu shabu, or hot pot, or bbq at home together at the table to enjoy together. Great to enjoy outdoors for parks & camping as well $15 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE 🌺
1Strong sturdy Iron Board used twice $20 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE🌺
Tripod can be used small on the table and extends huge up to 75 inches. Has a holder for camera or phone: $20 🌺 CURRENTLY AVAILABLE 🌺
BRAND NEW: YAHTZEE Board game still in wrapper with price tag on it bought for 20, selling for $10 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE 🌺
Tower fan, just got this for 70 bucks, selling for 50 but I’ll give it to you for a better price. Just shoot me a message with your best offer🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE🌺
MARBLE BOARD: $20 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE 🌺
5 pound weights : $6 each both for $10 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE🌺
Wi-Fi extenders: 45 each or 75 for both 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE🌺
Waffle maker: $10 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE🌺
Skewer grill brand new still in box, never used : $20 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE🌺
ceramic big vase: bought for 70, selling for 30- send me your best offer we will work something out 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE 🌺
Electric hand mixer: works great and makes baking a breeze!! A must for baking $15 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE🌺
Super cute weighted soap holder brand new: $5 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE🌺
Couch is from Jubilee LV luxury modern couch purchased at 3,150. Selling it for 1000 shoot me a message and I’ll give you a better price or send me your best offer. We work something out. 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE 🌺
lamp: $15 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE🌺
Air fryer, used a few times. $20 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE🌺
realistic faux plant decoration $10 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE 🌺
This couch is the comfiest couch. It is stuffed with goose feathers so you just melt into the couch. needs to be lightly cleaned (was quoted $50 for a cleaning but I have no time so just selling the couch for super cheap) but this is the most comfortable couch, best naps on it ever! I just got these covers for 120 (they’re removable super easy no worries) lolll but you can have them for free with this couch. Probably should take it off and let the couch shine $200 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE🌺
small dresser: Has a little chip on it but nothing too noticeable $10 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE 🌺
(PRICE LOWERED‼️)✨Round table with Tempered glass with 4 chairs and cherry wood stand- this is a 2000 tempered glass table imported from Italy- selling for $600 but shoot me a message and we can work something out or send me your best offer. 🌺CURRENTLY AVAILABLE🌺
okay hear me out I know Christmas is a little ways away but it sneaks up every year and this year you’re going to be like man when that Asian girl was selling the Christmas stuff I should have gotten it for cheap lol ✨pine cone ribbon lamp battery operated: $5 🌺currently available🌺 ✨nutcracker: $5 🌺currently available🌺 ✨gnomes there’s 2 $5 each 🌺currently available🌺 ✨light up wreath: $5 🌺currently available🌺 ✨Christmas table decor: $5 ✨currently available✨ ✨Christmas towel: $2 🌺currently available🌺 Christmas plate/tray: $5 🌺currently available🌺 Or take all the Christmas stuff for $20 total

Centrelink is a government agency that provides financial support to millions, but you need to be really careful when dealing with them. They're known for strictly adhering to rules and won't hesitate to penalize you on a technicality.
Strict Policies: Centrelink can be very heartless machine, and as adults, you'll be legally responsible for any incorrectly received payments.
Consider this, if you've been incorrectly receiving centrelink payments for a year or two, your debt can easily exceed $10,000. You'll have to pay Centrelink back, and Centrelink will send debt collectors to your house and prevent you from leaving the country.
The good news is that you can always negotiate a payment plan with them and repay as little as $20 a week for the next few years
Parental Income and Eligibility: Until you turn 22, Centrelink considers your parents' income when assessing your eligibility. If they earn too much, you may not qualify, even if you're no longer living with them. However, you can try applying as "Independent" for Youth Allowance if it's unreasonable for you to live at home.
Earning Money While Receiving Centrelink: If eligible for Centrelink support, you can earn extra income without losing your benefits. You can earn a certain amount without reducing your payment, and beyond that, it decreases at a percentage rate for each dollar earned. Keep all payslips and report your weekly income accurately to Centrelink to avoid overpayments.
Centrelink Programs:
Job Seeker: If you apply as a Job Seeker, carefully read the instructions and be thorough during your initial application.
Student Support:
If you apply as a student, maintain a full-time study load. Your university won't directly collaborate with Centrelink and may not always offer enough subjects per semester to keep you at full-time status, but Centrelink will not care, they'll still demand their money back.
If you're not studying full-time in a semester, Centrelink will demand the money back, not just for that semester but for all semesters afterwards (even if you studied those full-time).
Centrelink doesn't even care if your universities's official study guide explicitly advised you to do less units for that particular semester! They expect a full time load for each individual semester and will demand the money back regardless.
If you change courses or pursue a double degree, remember to cancel and reapply for Youth Allowance. Centrelink will consider this a new program and require you to reapply, regardless of your study hours.
It's always best to clarify with you university about what constitues a full-time study load. But generally, it is 4 units or more a semester, or 3 units or more a trimester.
Appeals and Assistance:
If Centrelink ever demands repayment, stay calm. They aren't bikies, and jail terms are expectionally rare for simply failing to pay them back (and are usually very short in the odd event it happens)
You can appeal to the Administrative Appeals Tribunal (AAT) on compassionate or technical grounds. You can also always negotiate a reasonable payment plan to pay them back. Centrelink sometimes makes mistakes even when you've done nothing wrong. In these cases speak politely with their staff, and if necessary, escalate your case to the AAT.

Prices negotiable Deals on multiples Details in comments I’ve wiped all indicated ink to the best of my abilities Happy to answer ?’s you have or provide closer pictures

Ok so I'm 27F, my ex is 27M, my closest friend is 25F.
So let me just start off with saying I was on to some bullshit here. I know I was.
I've known my closest friend since high school, but we didn't really get close until last year. I've shared things with her I've never really shared with anyone who wasn't my ex.
I didn't realize she lived do close to me.
I developed a crush on her while I was dating my ex, because we did some open relationship stuff that went tits up. We kissed and did alot of stuff that made us really close really fast. I'm bi. She's bi.
Long story short, me and ex moved in with closest friend.
This was a pivotal point of contention that contributed to ending our relationship among other factors.
Things didn't work romantically between me and friend, we're still close friends.
Me and ex were living with her me for about 8 months, him about 4. When we broke up he moved out.
I'm still not over my ex. We still fuck. I am over my friend.
What bothers me is that they still hangout, and I feel like he's just gotten just as close with her as I did.
It bothers me alot. They hangout with the same frequency, she talks to him just as much as me, and she shares personal stuff with him that she doesn't with me 😥
She's the closest friendship I've ever established, and he's my longest relationship we dated for 3 years.
I don't know how to process my feelings on this or get over it.
The worst part is my ex is a movie director and he gave my friend my spot in the movie. That feels like a cruel joke tbh. It also involves kissing someone who stopped talking to me because of some negativity I had towards her during the breakup. It feels weird that I would see her in a spot that was originally mine.
I really feel like I should go no contact with both of them. But I would be so lonley if I did... I would miss them...
I don't know what to do about my feelings about this. I wouldn't ask either of them to stop being friends with the other.
But I'm not sure I can keep dealing with this emotionally.
Me and my ex broke up like 9 months ago.
I don't even know why this bothers me so much. Maybe that I felt I had a special connection with my friend, and if he has the same thing what we had, my connection with her REALLY doesn't mean shit. Which would suck because I've never managed to be platonically closer with another human being than with my friend.
I don't know what to do. The thought of going no contact with both of them definitely has come to mind more than once.
Any advice would be appreciated. I feel like I'm going insane over here. I don't know how to resolve these feelings and I'm trying to work through them. I don't really feel like they're fair to either of them my friend or ex.
*TL;DR My friendship with my best friend is weird and a little gay, my ex and I are still fucking, they're close friends and it bothers me more than it should.

So, I am running Bias FX 2 Elite on my HP Pavilion Laptop 15-eg0067st, which came with 12 GB of RAM and a 512 GB M.2 SSD for storage. I've noticed that sometimes, even when running in standalone mode, that I get artifacts in my tones, and other times, when I'm really jammin' and playing some heavier stuff the program will go from sounding really great, as it should, to just going off the wall, and getting ugly sounding, and at times will even cut the audio out all together.
I am curious as to what causes this. I guess it's also worth mentioning that I am plugging my guitar in to my Pavilion laptop via a Focusrite Scarlett 2i2 audio interface (firmware version 1605) . Sample rate is 44.1 kHz, with a buffer size of 128. My round-trip latency is 15.2ms - (666 samples), and I am in "safe mode". I am getting ready to upgrade my PC since I am going to already be opening it up in order to install a new fan, which it needs just because the original one isn't doing so hot, and I don't like my laptop getting too, well, hot.
I plan on installing a Crucial 32 GB RAM kit (which will consist of two 16 GB sticks), as well as a storage upgrade in the form of a Crucial 2TB M.2 PCle NVMe SSD. These upgrades will obviously work wonders for my trusty laptop (which is about 3 years old at this point in time, and has been a great PC, which I have not had a single issue/problem with throughout the entire time I've owned it thus far) from many different angles, one of the biggest improvements of which, I assume will be my performance when using multiple plug-ins while recording/tracking in Reaper, in which I always only use either Bias FX 2 Elite, or Amplitube as far as my plug-ins are concerned.
I am just wondering if these audio anomalies and such which are occurring as I am playing guitar, might be another item which I might expect to see some improvement upon once I have completed these fixes and upgrades. I learned very early on, that if one expects to be able to play using BIAS FX 2, without experiencing a noticeable amount of latency (or any other plug-in for that matter), that RAM is one's best friend. The more RAM one has, the better these programs will run. More seamlessly, and with less latency. So, I know that I will be improving my usage of BIAS FX 2 Elite, I am just curious as to which ways I might expect to see noticeable improvements, aside from the fact that I should be able to get round-trip latency way down, to a point where it will not be noticeable at all anymore, and more like playing on an actual amplifier.
It's definitely sweet to be able to jam using my computer as a means of amplification. But any considering taking this leap for themselves, who have not already, be warned, it is absolutely NOT, just as simple as purchasing a license, downloading some software, and BOOM, you're in the game! Unfortunately, there is a great deal more involved than that, the main thing being, the fact that regardless whether you are sporting a MAC, or a PC, either way, it must be a relatively powerful machine. Positive Grid's website states that a minimum of 8 GB of RAM is required to run BIAS FX 2. However, based upon personal experience, and the fact that almost all of us are going to have other programs and apps being put to use on our computers, other than just what is necessary to play our guitars - think, DAWs for example... because chances are, if you are interested in playing guitar on your MAC or PC, then you are almost certainly going to want to start doing some tracking/recording as well... and that's still just sticking to the guitar related stuff - , I would highly recommend investing in a desktop, or laptop with absolutely no less than 16 GB of RAM.

So I have made three waist beads, originally I used something called braiding cord (it says it’s polyester but it feels kinda waxy and when the wax wears off it feels like hemp) within a few days one of them snapped. I figured it was too tight so I restrung all my waist beads on 5 strands of cotton thread. Again one of them snapped but it was the tightest one so I decided to leave that one off and keep the two looser ones. A few days later and another one snaps!!
I feel like it might be because I have stomach issues and deal with random bouts of serious bloating which makes the beads quite tight. Has anyone else dealt with the same issues? I’m wondering what the best string to use would be, I ’ve watched tons of videos and everyone says different things. I don’t have any fancy tools or even a proper beading needle so it takes hours to make just one string of beads. They make me feel so much more confidant in my body so I’d love to find something more sturdy that what I’ve been using!

Well, I didn’t think things would come this far or have to be like this. I want to start off by saying that I am not perfect, I do make plenty of mistakes and i will continue to make mistakes. I’m writing this because a coworker of mine decided to make a post about me and completely lied.
I work for Jo-Ann fabrics and I love it, I love the atmosphere and I love the people- the customers and coworkers. Well, except one. For privacy I will call her Regina because she acts like work is the mean girls movie. I started working for this company October of 2023, I was hired in as the full time key holder. I do have a four year old that goes to school and due to kids having germs my daughter was sick a lot so I did have to call in, I don’t have much help babysitter wise so I HAD to stay home to take care of her. I didn’t call in every other day it was like twice every so often. Regina didn’t like that and resented me for choosing to take care of my daughter rather than work, so she told our boss that she should have the position because she doesn’t have a kid and would be available more. Our boss talked to me so I sacrificed the position so she could have it, now I’m not mad, upset or jealous that I don’t have the full time position it’s just hard to make a living working part time hours only making 10.55 an hour. If I knew what was to come I would have NEVER sacrificed the full time position. I do have a steady babysitter now so I’m working as much as I can so I can provide for my daughters need, kids are expensive and my daughters birthday is coming up so I asked for extra hours.
Days after Regina and I switched positions she started to act like she was made out of gold, like a golden child would. She would ALWAYS rub it in my face that she now was the full time key holder and always bragged how much more an hour she makes. She would ask all of our coworkers what their pay was and then would tell them how much she makes. I don’t care how much she makes, though higher pay would make my living situation easier. I grew up poor so I already adapted to a life of poverty and I’m honestly okay with it, sometimes it’s harder than other times but I make it work with what I have. Money to me is just paper, I can’t take it to the grave with me. Regina stoped me in the back room and said “I hope your not mad” I asked “why would I be mad” Regina replied with “because I make way more money than you” I smiled “well, I honestly don’t care. I couldn’t care less about money” Regina’s face got sour and cold because she knew she wasn’t getting under my skin. She replied with “oh, I thought you were”. I chuckled and said “no” and continued what I was doing.
Some time goes where nothing was happening but I could feel that something was brewing. It was the calm before the storm is what I’d call it. Now around this time I was going through a break up and was not feeling the best in my own skin and Regina knew this and used it as her ammunition. She started to call me her fat friend and then gave me hugs, I felt awkward because I do not like to be touched due to some very tramatic events . I’m bigger, I’m not skinny but I’m also not severely obese. Regina started to poke me and grab my fat and jiggle it. The first time she did, it was in front of two other female coworkers. They weren’t nice either, I’ll call them Gretchen and Karen, they were all in on this. When Regina grabbed my fat and giggled it Gretchen and Karen watched and laughed. I asked Regina “what are you doing” she responded with “I just wanted to feel how squishy it is”. Me being a non confrontational person I say “oh, don’t do that” still being nice and smiling, though I felt what was left of my self esteem completely shatter. I brushed it off and walked up to where all three of the mean girls were to ask a question about work since I was the only one doing something. Before I could even ask the question Gretchen goes behind me, makes a fist and lightly punched my back fat making it jiggle. All the girls laugh, I could feel my face getting hot and tears forming in my eyes as my heart sank to my stomach. I went to the bathroom for a moment to gather myself. This would go one for weeks, and every time it happened I would ask her to stop or to leave me be, each time she disregarded what I asked. During this time she would tell every coworker that I was a bad worker, I didn’t do what I was supposed to and if I did I would do a horrible job. There are so many other things she has said to others one that hurt the most was her saying it was annoying that I talk about my daughter so much. Now this whole time I thought we were friends, I’m a very forgiving person and I’m super nice even to people who don’t deserve it so when I heard about everything she was saying I was hurt I was so confused because she even asked to be my daughters god mother though she was never in my daughters life. I know friends don’t treat friends like that but I was just happy I could call someone a friend after years of having no one due to becoming a mom and losing myself in motherhood. I call my kindness and willingness to forgive a blessing and a curse because it truly is.
After finding out about everything she was saying, the drama and the physical touching which is actually bulling and harassment I finally went to my boss. It took me almost two months to tell her what was going on and how I felt. I hated every second explaining the torment to her, my boss is a lovey person and is super sweet. I couldn’t imagine how she felt hearing all of this, I truly felt like I was going to puke. I was so uncomfortable I couldn’t bear to work any longer without the help of my boss. My boss did talk to Regina and she said that she seems like she will be better and will stop the nonsense. A day after she was talked to Regina poked my back fat and laughed, she was shocked at how I responded. This time I wasn’t nice I turned to her and pretty much yelled “don’t touch me” she immediately apologized. I was surprised with how I responded as well, I actually stood up for myself and it felt nice. I did tell my boss she touched me again so Regina was talked to again and was extremely pissed. She started acting really passive aggressive, avoiding me and slamming things and being rude to everyone even customers. Me, being the nice person I am I decided that I would forgive her. Dumb of me, I know. I wrote her a four or five page letter explaining how everything made me feel , how bad of a friend she was and that I would teach her how to be a good friend. I even bought her a candle and some other stuff along with the letter I went as far as going over to her house to help her clean. She cried a lot when she read the letter and cried to me saying how bad of a friend she was, I hugged her back and said that it was okay and I forgive her. After that is was okay for a while until I witnessed her take drinks without paying for them and told my boss. After this, it was like a war.
I have never gotten in trouble with anyone, anywhere with anything, I guess I’m a goodie-two-shoes. Though I do have anger problems I have found ways to cope and deal with my anger, I’ve been working really hard to not get angry at Regina even though she deserves to hear what the mama bear side of me wants to say. I want to be gentle, I want to be nice and forgiving, I don’t want to be angry. But I knew I had to set some sturdy boundaries in order to keep my sanity. These past few weeks have been hell, in summary I caught her talking bad about me to my boss, she was lying about me, blaming me and others for things we didn’t do. With one situation in particular she turned the tables , when hearing this my adrenaline started to course through my veins, I stared to shake so bad. I went up to her and told her that was not how the story went. She got so scared seeing me so mad and shaking. She apologized to our boss for lying but not to me, my other coworker helped me calm down and thank god she did because I was going to quit right there and then. To summarize other things she has done I will just list them -tried to frame another coworker for theft to the point the coworker cried to our boss -tried to take credit for the work I did -talks bad about other managers and workers in other stores -gave out the phone numbers and emails of our hr and of our boss’s boss -made me work off the clock to train new people because she didn’t want to train them -purposely trained me wrong and is hesitant with teaching me new things to the point my boss has to and when I learn she gets mad and jealous because she’s threatened by my work ethic -yelled at me in front of a customer to the point the customer came back to complain about Regina to our boss and another coworker
And so many more but, the most recent is her blaming me for not locking the doors at close when it was her that didn’t do it correctly, the alarm company called my boss at night and the cops came to our Joanns and everything. I have several eye witnesses watch her do it. I told my boss to watch the cameras because I have nothing to lie about and Regina still is trying to blame me. This is where I draw the line, I will not forgive her so easily this time. Forgiveness without changed behavior is just manipulation. I am not the only one who has complained about her, many of our coworker have switched their availability to when I work or when my boss works because they don’t want to deal with Regina. Tension is very high and I’m afraid of what is to come.

Well, I didn’t think things would come this far or have to be like this. I want to start off by saying that I am not perfect, I do make plenty of mistakes and i will continue to make mistakes. I’m writing this because a coworker of mine decided to make a post about me and completely lied.
I work for Jo-Ann fabrics and I love it, I love the atmosphere and I love the people- the customers and coworkers. Well, except one. For privacy I will call her Regina because she acts like work is the mean girls movie. I started working for this company October of 2023, I was hired in as the full time key holder. I do have a four year old that goes to school and due to kids having germs my daughter was sick a lot so I did have to call in, I don’t have much help babysitter wise so I HAD to stay home to take care of her. I didn’t call in every other day it was like twice every so often. Regina didn’t like that and resented me for choosing to take care of my daughter rather than work, so she told our boss that she should have the position because she doesn’t have a kid and would be available more. Our boss talked to me so I sacrificed the position so she could have it, now I’m not mad, upset or jealous that I don’t have the full time position it’s just hard to make a living working part time hours only making 10.55 an hour. If I knew what was to come I would have NEVER sacrificed the full time position. I do have a steady babysitter now so I’m working as much as I can so I can provide for my daughters need, kids are expensive and my daughters birthday is coming up so I asked for extra hours.
Days after Regina and I switched positions she started to act like she was made out of gold, like a golden child would. She would ALWAYS rub it in my face that she now was the full time key holder and always bragged how much more an hour she makes. She would ask all of our coworkers what their pay was and then would tell them how much she makes. I don’t care how much she makes, though higher pay would make my living situation easier. I grew up poor so I already adapted to a life of poverty and I’m honestly okay with it, sometimes it’s harder than other times but I make it work with what I have. Money to me is just paper, I can’t take it to the grave with me. Regina stoped me in the back room and said “I hope your not mad” I asked “why would I be mad” Regina replied with “because I make way more money than you” I smiled “well, I honestly don’t care. I couldn’t care less about money” Regina’s face got sour and cold because she knew she wasn’t getting under my skin. She replied with “oh, I thought you were”. I chuckled and said “no” and continued what I was doing.
Some time goes where nothing was happening but I could feel that something was brewing. It was the calm before the storm is what I’d call it. Now around this time I was going through a break up and was not feeling the best in my own skin and Regina knew this and used it as her ammunition. She started to call me her fat friend and then gave me hugs, I felt awkward because I do not like to be touched due to some very tramatic events . I’m bigger, I’m not skinny but I’m also not severely obese. Regina started to poke me and grab my fat and jiggle it. The first time she did, it was in front of two other female coworkers. They weren’t nice either, I’ll call them Gretchen and Karen, they were all in on this. When Regina grabbed my fat and giggled it Gretchen and Karen watched and laughed. I asked Regina “what are you doing” she responded with “I just wanted to feel how squishy it is”. Me being a non confrontational person I say “oh, don’t do that” still being nice and smiling, though I felt what was left of my self esteem completely shatter. I brushed it off and walked up to where all three of the mean girls were to ask a question about work since I was the only one doing something. Before I could even ask the question Gretchen goes behind me, makes a fist and lightly punched my back fat making it jiggle. All the girls laugh, I could feel my face getting hot and tears forming in my eyes as my heart sank to my stomach. I went to the bathroom for a moment to gather myself. This would go one for weeks, and every time it happened I would ask her to stop or to leave me be, each time she disregarded what I asked. During this time she would tell every coworker that I was a bad worker, I didn’t do what I was supposed to and if I did I would do a horrible job. There are so many other things she has said to others one that hurt the most was her saying it was annoying that I talk about my daughter so much. Now this whole time I thought we were friends, I’m a very forgiving person and I’m super nice even to people who don’t deserve it so when I heard about everything she was saying I was hurt I was so confused because she even asked to be my daughters god mother though she was never in my daughters life. I know friends don’t treat friends like that but I was just happy I could call someone a friend after years of having no one due to becoming a mom and losing myself in motherhood. I call my kindness and willingness to forgive a blessing and a curse because it truly is.
After finding out about everything she was saying, the drama and the physical touching which is actually bulling and harassment I finally went to my boss. It took me almost two months to tell her what was going on and how I felt. I hated every second explaining the torment to her, my boss is a lovey person and is super sweet. I couldn’t imagine how she felt hearing all of this, I truly felt like I was going to puke. I was so uncomfortable I couldn’t bear to work any longer without the help of my boss. My boss did talk to Regina and she said that she seems like she will be better and will stop the nonsense. A day after she was talked to Regina poked my back fat and laughed, she was shocked at how I responded. This time I wasn’t nice I turned to her and pretty much yelled “don’t touch me” she immediately apologized. I was surprised with how I responded as well, I actually stood up for myself and it felt nice. I did tell my boss she touched me again so Regina was talked to again and was extremely pissed. She started acting really passive aggressive, avoiding me and slamming things and being rude to everyone even customers. Me, being the nice person I am I decided that I would forgive her. Dumb of me, I know. I wrote her a four or five page letter explaining how everything made me feel , how bad of a friend she was and that I would teach her how to be a good friend. I even bought her a candle and some other stuff along with the letter I went as far as going over to her house to help her clean. She cried a lot when she read the letter and cried to me saying how bad of a friend she was, I hugged her back and said that it was okay and I forgive her. After that is was okay for a while until I witnessed her take drinks without paying for them and told my boss. After this, it was like a war.
I have never gotten in trouble with anyone, anywhere with anything, I guess I’m a goodie-two-shoes. Though I do have anger problems I have found ways to cope and deal with my anger, I’ve been working really hard to not get angry at Regina even though she deserves to hear what the mama bear side of me wants to say. I want to be gentle, I want to be nice and forgiving, I don’t want to be angry. But I knew I had to set some sturdy boundaries in order to keep my sanity. These past few weeks have been hell, in summary I caught her talking bad about me to my boss, she was lying about me, blaming me and others for things we didn’t do. With one situation in particular she turned the tables , when hearing this my adrenaline started to course through my veins, I stared to shake so bad. I went up to her and told her that was not how the story went. She got so scared seeing me so mad and shaking. She apologized to our boss for lying but not to me, my other coworker helped me calm down and thank god she did because I was going to quit right there and then. To summarize other things she has done I will just list them -tried to frame another coworker for theft to the point the coworker cried to our boss -tried to take credit for the work I did -talks bad about other managers and workers in other stores -gave out the phone numbers and emails of our hr and of our boss’s boss -made me work off the clock to train new people because she didn’t want to train them -purposely trained me wrong and is hesitant with teaching me new things to the point my boss has to and when I learn she gets mad and jealous because she’s threatened by my work ethic -yelled at me in front of a customer to the point the customer came back to complain about Regina to our boss and another coworker
And so many more but, the most recent is her blaming me for not locking the doors at close when it was her that didn’t do it correctly, the alarm company called my boss at night and the cops came to our Joanns and everything. I have several eye witnesses watch her do it. I told my boss to watch the cameras because I have nothing to lie about and Regina still is trying to blame me. This is where I draw the line, I will not forgive her so easily this time. Forgiveness without changed behavior is just manipulation. I am not the only one who has complained about her, many of our coworker have switched their availability to when I work or when my boss works because they don’t want to deal with Regina. Tension is very high and I’m afraid of what is to come.

Cigarettes and rebellion have always gone hand-in-hand, and in an age of cigarette packet-sized health warnings, now more than ever, smoking a fag says: 'I do not give a fuck.' But if Brandon Flowers is hoping to strike a seditious pose by sparking up at the start of the interview, it's not going according to plan. The Killers' frontman is on all fours rooting through the junk that carpets the anteroom at the band's rehearsal space. "Has anyone seen my lighter?" he asks, rocking back on his heels. The question hangs in the air while Brandon cocks his head, waiting for an answer like a meerkat listening for a predator. Twenty-five years old and with a delicate bone structure, there's something almost dainty about him. Receiving no response, he returns to his search. "Oh, Jeez," he sighs. "I had it just a minute ago."
It's a scene that emphatically does not suggest a rebel without a cause. The mess isn't helping. The Killers' HQ - an industrial unit sandwiched between a construction supplier and the offices of a housing development just off Dean Martin Drive in West Las Vegas - is ankle-deep in designer clothing. A Dior Homme suit lies crumpled by the door; there's a pile of shoes topped like a sundae by a pair of Marc Jacobs trainers; and anyone wishing to enter the shoebox room the band use as an office must negotiate a mountain of discarded jeans. Many items are identifiable as coming from the wardrobe of Hot Fuss, The Killers' hugely successful 2004 debut album - triple platinum in the UK with two weeks at Number One and five million sold worldwide. Look! There are the shirts, ties and suit jackets they wore when they thrilled Glastonbury 2005 with indie rock anthems Mr Brightside and Somebody Told Me. That was the crowning moment of a two-and-a-half year tour that finally concluded in October of last year. It seems that after playing that final date in Miami, they returned to Vegas and shrugged off their image onto the floor of this bland white box.
Now a fine layer of dust covers the dead clothes. The Killers have no further use for white tuxedos on their second album, Sam's Town. Today, Brandon wears a black polo shirt, black pin-stripe waistcoat, black jeans and black boots. Where there used to be a layer of foundation, there is now a beard - an untrimmed beard at that. Dave Keuning (30, guitar), Mark Stoermer (29, bass) and Ronnie Vannucci (29, drums) all echo Brandon's black ensemble. Ronnie has added Aviator shades and a handlebar moustache for a dash of motorcycle cop, Dave's frizzy bubble of hair gives him a Marc Bolan-ish air, and there's something very teenage about Mark's scuffed Vans.
Short of walking around wearing sandwich boards saying, "Our new record is a bit heavier than the last one," The Killers couldn't hope to communicate that message more effectively. And they have gained some musical girth on Sam's Town. The pop hooks that made Hot Fuss so irresistible survive intact - see the ringing guitar riffs on first single When You Were Young - but there's a newfound punchiness, coupled with an epic sweep. The minor-to-major uplifts on Bones are fabulously dramatic, the coda to Why Do I Keep Counting? thrillingly intense. Comparisons to Bruce Springsteen have been made. If they overstate the case a little, they are at leaset qualitatively accurate. The Killers are back and this time it's serious - they've got the bootlace ties to prove it.
"Hey, it says here that Springsteen's headlining Glastonbury next year," shouts Ronnie, who's flicking through the NME. He nods sagely at the page without looking up.
"Really?" asks Dave, nicknamed Crazy Dave on account of his alledgedly volatile nature.
"The Boss is headlining one night, we're playing second on the bill the next night and Kylie's headlining the Sunday," says Brandon, charging like a bull through Michael Eavis' as-yet-unannounced line-up with what subsequently proves to be a characteristic gaucheness.
But that lighter is proving elusive. This being America, none of the people hurrying to-and-fro prepping the world for the release of Sam's Town smokes. Manager Robert Reynolds - Bobby Rey to the band - barks into his mobile, booking his band onto eye-wateringly demanding tours. "We're going to make a lot of money," he cackles to himself before switching calls to make a series of stern pronouncements on legal matters. Dave, Mark and Ronnie disappear for a jam session. Artwork is approved, B-sides are decided on and schedules are hammered out.
"I can't find it," Brandon says, finally. But he's not going to be denied the opportunity to underline The Killers reinvention with a puff of smoke. "Let's go to the gas station. I'll have to buy one. It's too busy to talk here anyway."
+
Brandon's black (of course) Volkswagen Touraeg four-wheel drive is barrelling down West Flamingo Road into town. "I was a bell boy there," he says, pointing out of the driver's window at the stucco facade of the Gold Coast casino. "I was working there when we were signed."
Coming from Las Vegas, it is perhaps inevitable that casinos play a big part in The Killers' story; not only is Sam's Town named after one, it was recorded in one, too.
The band began writing songs while on the road with Hot Fuss, turning up early for soundchecks to run through new ideas. On a trip home to Vegas, George Maloof, a hotelier known for cultivating famous friends, invited them to record the album in the new studio he'd built at The Palms, his flagship hotel-cum-gambling den. When the tour finished in October 2005, they returned to Vegas and spent five month finessing the songs they'd sketched out on the road. Then, in February, they decampled to the third floor studio at The Palms and recorded Sam's Town over 11 weeks.
Producer Flood (U2, Depeche Mode) encouraged them to experiment. They overdubbed, fiddled with synthesizers and played with new equipment. It took them five weeks to get the backing vocals right. The band sang the harmonies, then double-tracked them four times. The end result recalls Queen wondering, "Is this is the real life? Is this just fantasy?" When Ronnie, a trained classical percussionist, brought some kettledrums down, eyebrows were raised; but the fabulously bombastic coda on Why Do I Keep Counting? vindicates his indulgence.
"That's kind of the Ben Hur of the album," he says. He's not wrong. Sam's Town is a record on an epic scale. "Yeah, it has drama," he continues. "But, at the same time, I think it's a little more exposed than Hot Fuss. It's a little more naked. Last time it was about a lot of fictional things." By "fictional", Ronnie means that Hot Fuss wore its predominantly British influences for all to see. Brandon's taste in music is rabidly Anglophile - he constantly references The Smiths, The Cure and Joy Division - and it showed. By contrast, Sam's Town is an unequivocally American record. The lyrical imagery is pure American dream - cars, girls, wide-open spaces and escaping to a better life. "We're burning down the highway skyline/On the back of a hurricane that started turning/When you were young," sings Brandon on When You Were Young. That's the basis of the Springsteen comparisons then, though the lack of pathos more closely recalls another blue-collar rocker from New Jersey - Jon Bon Jovi.
The phrase "this town" recurs throughout the album, and it's always receding into the distance as The Killers escape to a new life. "This town was made for passing through/I never did get along with everybody else," sings Brandon on This River Is Wild. On Read My Mind he "never really gave up on breaking out of this two-star town", while on the title track he offers something of an explanation: "Nobody ever had a dream round here."
"With the first record, there was this feeling that there was this world out there that we didn't know," says Mark later in the day. Before The Killers, he studied philosophy: now he's their quiet one. "We wanted to get out and away from this and be somewhere else. We hadn't had a lot of experience - hadn't travelled much - then we were gone for three years. We didn't sit down and say that we wanted to make a record about how we're glad to be home, but that's what happened naturally."
It's not an angsty record. The Killers have already escaped with Hot Fuss, and, having done so, they view the experience fondly now they're back. There's a mistiness to Brandon's eyes as he explains how the album got it's name.
"Sam's Town is a casino on the edge of Vegas," he says. "I grew up in Henderson, which is out on the way to the Hoover Dam. My mom and dad lived in a trailer park, and my dad used to hitchhike up and down Boulder Highway, which is the only way you could get to Vegas. Sam's Town was the first thing you saw on your way in to town. So, when you're driving down Boulder Highway from Henderson, I always thought you finally knew you were getting somewhere when you saw Sam's Town. It was kind of like a beacon."
"It's not a completely American album," contines Brandon. "We still have our English influence, but we're also from the Wild West. Somehow we've managed to unify all that on this album. it's just such a perfect resemblence of what we are."
At the petrol station, Brandon rummages through the glove box looking for change to buy a lighter. "This is a great album," he says, pointing at Highway Companion, the latest from iconic American rocker Tom Petty. "I've always been a big fan of his. He's such a great American artist."
Yes, Brandon: we get the point.
+
When Brandon finally lights his cigarette, he smokes it awkwardly, like a child mimicking something he's seen the grown-ups doing. However, when he cheerfully admits that, "I feel the same mentally as I did when I was 12," it's not a knowing nod to the fact that he sometimes behaves like a loveably precocious child, but a reference to an unusually comprehensive grounding in pop music at an early age.
When Brandon sings about "this town", he doesn't mean Las Vegas. He means Nephi, Utah or Henderson, Nevada, where he spent his childhood. His parents are Mormon and he is the youngest of six children. "I was a surprise," he says. "I've got a 42-year-old sister." If he was issues about his "surprise" status, he chooses to gloss over them. "It turned out perfect because my brother was a teenager when I was a kid," he says. "He would bring home things like Rattle And Hum by U2 and I would watch it. I remember he bought Live In Dallas by Morrissey. It was always him watching these things, or his door was shut and you'd hear The Head On The Door by The Cure blasting through the house and rattling the walls."
The Killers were formed when Brandon answered an advert Dave had placed in a local paper in late 2002. Dave cited Oasis as a big influence; Brandon had seen them play recently and responded; and, as Dave has said in previous interviews: "He was the only person to reply to my ad who wasn't a complete freak." However, the band was born in Brandon's brothers bedroom.
"His room was like a shrine," enthuses Brandon. "It was a holy place. I wish I could show you a picture of it. It was covered in posters. There'd be a big picture of Elvis wearing a bow tie that just said 'The Smiths' [the artwork for The Smiths 1987 single Shoplifters Of The World Unite]. You had The Cure wearing face paint [the artwork to The Cure's 1985 single In Between Days] - all that kind of stuff. I remember Morrissey being on the cover of the NME, with the halo [from 1985] - stuff like that. You just wanted to know about these people 'cause they were so cool. My brother seemed like such a cool person. But he was a teenager, so he wasn't going to be that nice to me, a kid."
Brandon was fascinated by his brother's collection of music, magazines and posters, but he was denied access to them - officially, at least. "I would sneak in," he says. "I knew he'd be angry if he found out, but I would go in as soon as he left the house." For a long time Brandon was too scared to actually play anything. "That didn't come 'til later. I just used to go in there because I liked it. Then I got to the point where I'd actually take a tape out and put it in. It took more guts to do that."
It was a life-changing moment. "I was ten and the first song I played was Sing Your Life by Morrissey. I remember dancing about to it."
The lyrics to Sing Your Life include the lines, "Sing your life/Just walk right up to the microphone/And name all the things that you love/All the things that you loathe." It's intriguing to wonder what Morrissey makes of the neophyte he inspired with these lines.
Eventually, Brandon inherited his brother's tape collection. "It was around the same time CDs started coming out in a big way. He started buying CDs and gave me his tapes. And that was it: it took off from there. I got a hundred of the best albums - all the New Order, all the Morrissey, all The Smiths, The Beatles. I started buying posters. I went to see The Cure in concert. It was just kind of a continuation of my brother. And it was nice because, though my parents were strict, they were already used to it from him. There was no, 'My dad doesn't understand me,' or any of that kind of stuff. My mum likes The Smiths."
Brandon was 13 and his favourite band was late-'70s/early-'80s American new wavers The Cars, and particularly their jaw-droppingly catchy 1979 single Just What I Needed.
"I wouldn't exist without that song," he says. "That was the one. I remember driving around with my mum when I was 13, and we're living in Nephi - a really small town - and I felt so cool when I put that song on. Like: 'I have something that none of these kids I'm going to middle school with tomorrow have.' That excitement is what music's about, isn't it? That's why I understand the mentality of people that don't like us because we've sold so many records. I used to like it when no one else knew about a band. So I get that - I do."
+
Brandon's first band was called Blush Response. It was never going to work out. Not because he refused to move to Los Angeles with them, but because he is utterly - comically - shameless. He's given to making outrageously boastful statements like: "It's not like the '60s, '70s and '80s now. There are only a few bands around that are really good, that just do it. I mean, there's what, five or six of us?"
For the record, in Brandon's estimation, those bands are Franz Ferdinand, Razorlight, The Strokes, The White Stripes, Yeah Yeah Yeahs and, of course, The Killers.
"I don't want people to think I'm lumping myself with other people just to make us sound cool," he says. Really? It sort of sounds like you are. But he just steamrolls through it. "Yeah, but you know what I mean," he says, grinning at his own cheekiness. He's so disgracefully forward you can't help but laugh along with him - Oh you are awful, Brandon! But joking aside, The Killers are the most commercially successful of all the bands he mentions.
Later, back at the rehearsal space, the band run through Sam's Town at deafening volume in preparation for the forthcoming tour - first the US, then the world. The infectious, almost contagious, chorus of When You Were Young sounds fabulous, as do the U2-like guitars and Twin Peaks synths of Read My Mind. Meanwhile, Smile Like You Mean It and Somebody Told Me benefit from the newfound harder edge.
They somewhat heavy-handedly underline the new direction by playing Paranoid by Black Sabbath and Get It On by T Rex. That's the thing: The Killers are not a subtle band. Their songs are like a wet kiss from a girl who's a bit too drunk. They are big and brash, and not everyone loves them for it. Mr Brightside and Somebody Told Me might go down as well at hip nightclubs as they do on the festival circuit, but the DJs play them with the same guilty look they wear when playing a pop record.
"I hate that," says Brandon. "Like writing a song you can hum somehow cheapens it? It makes me think of this quote by Morrissey. Everybody knows how he read Oscar Wilde, Keats and Yates when he was growing up and that he wanted to be a writer. He was talking to this journalist who asked why he hadn't become a writer, and Morrissey said: 'What I do is more powerful than what you do because I can write down these words and you get it to a melody. How can you beat that?' I'm of the same opinion. I don't understand why a good melody that's memorable is a bad thing."
Being dismissed as pop particular aggrieves Ronnie. "When we first came out we got compared to Duran Duran all the time. Jesus Christ! We got a keyboard player now all of a sudden he's Nick Rhodes! Come on!"
"The people who criticise us for being too poppy don't get it," agrees Mark. "I think that's the problem with a lot of rock music. People are afraid to write a song any more. Either that or they can't. And that attitude hurts music in general. The best bands ever have all written great songs. You can still do it and do it intelligently and it can be original. This isn't a studio creation with a producer writing these songs for us. We're not Avril Lavigne, or something like that. We're a real band writing real songs, just like a punk band would do, except that we write pop songs."
You get the impression that The Killers knack for showboating pop hooks that border on vulgar is inextricably tied up with the brazen side of Brandon's personality. But while his ebullient charisma, not to mention the songs themselves, mitigates his outrageousness, there is a less attractive side to his ego. He has a combative streak. He can't resist taking pot shots at emo bands, notably Fall Out Boy, whith whom The Killers share an A&R man.
Has he heard how many emo kids it takes to change a light bulb? "No." None. They just sit in the dark and cry. It's a full 30 seconds before he stops laughing. When he does he admits: "Yeah, we've had problems with other bands. You know, when you walk in the room it's like..." He whistles the theme to The Good, The Bad And The Ugly. "We're like gangs."
And while the other members of the band are diplomatic on the subject of Brandon, you don't have to read too deeply between the lines to conclude that there have been internal issues, too.
"Some people will think Brandon's the big genius," says Dave, visibly bridling. "There are songs, such as Why Do I Keep Counting?, where he's written every note. But there are others, like When You Were Young, that were more of a collaboration - like Mr Brightside, where I had some of the music and Brandon came up with the lyrics. We always have arguments about who wrote what. The truth is that we all help in that process."
When asked how success affected them, Ronnie says: "There were certain things that needed adjusting. When you're on tour for two years, people can get a little needy. It doesn't help that you're surrounded by yes men and everybody's working for you. At times we've had to say, 'Who do you think you are?' to people. No one wears the trousers, but some people would like to. I think if it wasn't for the people in the band kicking each other in the ass... Let's just say there was some ass-kickin'."
It doesn't take a genius to work out whose ass needed kicking most often.
+
It's the following day and The Killers are back at their rehearsal space. The topic of discussion is what to wear in the video for Bones, the second single. It's a big deal: the director is Tim Burton. "I feel like Frank Sinatra when I sing it," announces Brandon. "With maybe a little bit of Morrissey and a little bit of Elvis, too."
Of course he does. But if securing the services of Tim Burton tells you one thing, it's that The Killers are about to get even bigger, perhaps even make the leap to the same level as Coldplay et al. Already stars, they are about to become superstars. Brandon can hardly wait.
"Do you know that Rolling Stone didn't want to put us on the cover last time," he says indignantly. "They didn't think we were stars. We sold five million albums! What more do they want from a band?"
Whatever was required, Brandon would be happy to do most things. "I'll do stuff that some people don't want to do, 'cause I want people to hear the music," he says. However, even he has limits. "The Rolling Stone thing made the record label think: 'What can we do to make them stars?' If I go on vacation with my wife, do they have to send somebody to be there to take pictures of me? Is that how you become a star? I don't want that. I walked down the red carpet one time and I realised I don't like it. But you don't have to walk down the red carpet for people to hear your music. We do still have some of that indie blood running through our veins."
He heads off at a tangent: "When you walk around Liverpool, you think of The Beatles, or you go to Manchester and you think of The Smiths or Oasis. I want you to come to Las Vegas and think of Sam's Town. And I think we've started to capture that, which is a truer version of The Killers, 'cause that's where we're from."
He pauses.
"I used to live across the street from Sam's Town. Maybe it'll be like our Abbey Road where people go to take pictures."
Is that what he'd like?
"I wouldn't mind it," he says, desperately hoping it will come true.
He puts a cigarette between his lips, looks down at his trouser pockets and pats them in search of the lighter he bought yesterday.
"Hey, I don't suppose you've got one?"

DC Next presents:

I AM BATMAN

In True Crime
Issue Sixteen: Dark Hair And Face Paint
Written by ClaraEclair
Edited by PredaPlant & DeadIslandMan1
 
<< < Previous Issue Next Issue > Coming Next Month
 
 
Gotham University’s winter term was coming to an end, and that meant the resident varsity football team was finishing out their season — on home turf, no less. The Nighthawks were on a winning streak and were looking to finish off the season with a championship. The entire team felt the energy coursing through them as the stadium filled and crowd chants grew.
There were always major league scouts within the crowds at these types of games, especially for teams as impressive as the Nighthawks had been. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that some of the players on the varsity team would be making it to the national league. The coach, as hard as he could be on his team, felt nothing but warm pride in his heart and mind.
Zack Howard, the captain of the Nighthawks, looked over the 120 yard field from the player entrance, listening to the roaring crowd chanting for the Nighthawks — even fans of the Princeton Tigers felt the pull toward cheering on the Gotham University team. Just as much as his coach, he felt pride in being able to carry his team this far. He hoped to give the best game he’d ever played, to be noticed by big league coaches and scouts.
“Zack!” He heard his coach shout from behind him, no doubt trying to shift his attention back to the locker room and preparations for the game ahead. Zack exhaled deeply and turned around to see Coach Fremlin approaching with a light jog, holding something in his hand. “Delivery for ya,” he said, handing the envelope to the captain. “Some girl said to give it to you, said there’s somethin’ special inside.” With a smirk, Fremlin clapped Zack’s shoulder before turning back toward the locker room.
Zack’s mind flooded with possibilities and fantasies about what could’ve been in the envelope. Something special could have been anything, and it excited him as he ripped it open. His expression quickly shifted, however, as he pulled a handwritten note out of the envelope, scribbled in nearly illegible handwriting.
”Zack Howard,” it read. He opened it, his brow furrowed, and watched as an instant print photograph fell out of the fold and onto the ground. One piece of clear tape had been shoddily applied to the corner and had clearly lost its adhesion. Leaning down, Zack picked up the photo and squinted, trying to make out the subject.
It took a few moments, but the longer he stared at the photo, the more it dawned on him what was depicted in it. Instantly, upon realising what he saw, he rushed back to the locker room and forced himself through his teammates to Coach Fremlin, who was dragging out his playbook. He grabbed the coach by the shoulder, twisted him around to face him directly, and planted the photo firmly on his chest.
“What the fuck is this?” he demanded. Confused, Fremlin chuckled nervously as he tried to grasp the small photo on his chest, not able to see the subject but only the fury in Zack’s face. The room fell totally silent as the entire team watched the coach and their captain with bated breaths.
“What do you mean?” asked Fremlin, turning the image over and squinting at it, trying to make out the details. Just as fast as Zack had initially made out the details, Fremlin’s face dropped at the realisation. “Holy God, Zack, I–”
“What the hell is this?!” Zack demanded once more, resisting the urge to grab his coach by the collar and push him against the wall. “Who gave this to you?”
“I– I don’t know, it was some girl,” Fremlin stuttered, fumbling over himself. “She was short, had black hair, face paint…”
“What’s it say on the back?” asked Tim Teslow, the team’s best running back, pointing toward the image and the messy scrawls on the back of it. Zack snapped it back out of Fremlin’s hands as the coach sat down, head in his hands.
“Section 204, Row 8, seat 9,” Zack read the note aloud. “I’m going to go see what this is,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Dude, that’s across the stadium,” said Cutter Karznowski, the wide receiver that had only joined at the start of the season. “The game’s starting in a few minutes.”
“I don’t care,” Zack snapped back. “I’m going.”
 
 
Good evening, Gothamites, I hope you enjoyed that last one — Barcode by Self-Sacrificial. It’s always been a personal favourite of mine, straight to the point with the best beats and deepest riffs.
In the same spirit, I’ll get straight to the point of why today’s a big day for me — you’ve all known this was coming but I never quite said what it was. When I started this show a little over a year ago, I wanted to look at the dirt of the world. I wanted to bring you my favourite music while trying to figure out my favourite events in this city.
I’ve talked about all the legends, I’ve talked about Joker, Mister Freeze, and so many others. I’ve talked about new shooters like Man-Bat and Professor Pyg. I’ve even, unfortunately, shed some light on the unoriginal copycat hacks that have started popping up in recent years. It’s all been out of love, though. Love for the mind of those who would commit these atrocities, appreciation for what they are and what they represent.
There’s a reason why they are what they are, and it’s always been a goal of mine to love and appreciate what they put into the world. It’s all about the chaos.
But, today, I won’t be talking about that. Today, I’ll be talking about football. Before you all start booing me, it’s my special day and it’s my show, so I get final say. Specifically, it’s the big championship game for the Gotham University Nighthawks. I went to school with these guys, I feel… an obligation.
I’m excited to see how the game will turn out. I get the nagging feeling that their winning streak might come to an end.
 
 
Section 204 in the Gotham Knights stadium, on the north side of Tricorner Island, the southernmost landmass of Gotham, was filled to the brim with spectators and fans. All were cheering as they waited and watched the Gotham University Nighthawks enter the field below, while Zack spent his time searching the section for a small woman with black hair and face paint.
Despite the difficulty of sifting through the crowded seats, he couldn’t find a woman matching that description. He looked back down at the photograph’s note and read it again, making sure he was in the right spot. The location remained the same: Section 204, row 8, seat 9.
People called out his name, but he was quick to shrug them off. He was too focused on finding the woman who’d sent him the photograph. Even asking those who’d been sitting within section 204 had proved fruitless, with no one being able to say anything about the described woman.
Angry and dejected, Zack turned back toward the steps between sections to head back down to the field when something caught his eye as he moved.
“Sir!” He called out, angling his head toward a man two rows above him, pointing beneath his seat. “Sir, what’s that under your seat?” There was some sort of flashing light taped to the bottom of the seat, slowly pulsing between purple and green.
The man looked confused, leaning forward to take a look at what Zack had pointed at, eyes widening the moment he saw the wiring that he sat atop. A complex series of wires and lights traced their way around each seat in the section, though neither he nor Zack could see what, exactly, the wires were attached to.
“I don’t–”
The man could only shout out those few words before a loud explosion rocked the stadium, blasts running down the portion of the stadium from rows 12 to 4. Dozens of seats were annihilated as smoke, fire, and green gas erupted. Cries of pain and fear replaced the cheers of the spectators.
Blood tainted the intact seats while the smoke rose into the air, infiltrating the sky of southern Gotham, visible from all along the city’s coast. What fell across the stadium, permeating nearly every seat on the west side of the stadium, making its way into the halls that traced the inner workings of the building, was a thick green gas, forcing its way into the lungs of the men and women who were running for their lives, trampling each other.
Those closest to the explosion felt intense convulsions in their abdomens and spasms in their faces, involuntarily forced to bear wicked grins while their shattering breaths overtook the screams of terror in the form of wicked laughter.
Amidst the chaos, the charred photo that Zack once held fell slowly and gracefully, slightly charred, ignorant of the horror that it had been subject to. Slightly charred, it landed a few sections away from the explosions, trampled upon by infected spectators who had no idea what was being done to them.
 
 
A Few Minutes Earlier…
James Gordon’s office at the Gotham City Police Department headquarters was quiet as he sat at his desk, resting his elbows on its surface with his hands clasped, opposite Astrid Arkham, the frail-seeming daughter of Jeremiah Arkham. She had requested a meeting with him, and he had assumed it was for an update into Batman’s investigation into her father.
“Gotham City needs something new,” she began, catching him by surprise. His eyes widened slightly, then his brow furrowed. “We’ve been in this… this state of insanity for decades now, and it is only getting worse. This city is no longer livable, Commissioner.” He resisted the urge to groan. The only difference in Gotham City as it was and the Gotham City of before was that the murders had become spectacle.
When supervillains pushed out mobsters and gangsters, there was a shift in crime, but the results remained the same. Salvatore Maroni and Carmine Falcone knew how to keep their business quiet to the public unless they were in active war. Those were the good old days, now.
“Insane, maniacal supervillains,” she continued. “They rule the streets whenever they so choose. The police cannot deal with them, not under you. You rely on the Batman,” there was venom in her voice as she spoke the name, “and she sweeps up the problems while bringing deranged cultists and assassins into this city. She’s the heir of a small personal army with untold technology and she runs free. The Joker Riots, the assassin siege, Simon Hurt, all because the Batman has infested this town with these misguided thoughts of the supernatural, supposedly haunting our city.” Gordon remained silent.
“Essen’s incentives are now failing,” she said, watching Gordon closely for a reaction. If he gave one, she couldn’t see it. “How many companies that were enticed by her incentives have moved headquarters out of Gotham? They pay nothing in taxes, they have Essen licking their boots, and it’s still not enough. Despite all that’s happened, we haven’t been through hell yet, Commissioner. We’ve only arrived at the gates.”
“If I may, Miss Arkham,” said Gordon, leaning back in his chair, scanning the young woman up and down. “What’s your point?” He understood what she was saying, and he feared she was right, but he didn’t like the conclusion she was bringing forth.
“You are antiquated, Commissioner,” she replied, her face straight. “Obsolete. Your methods don’t work anymore, the law you uphold is no longer effective. Besides that, you are getting old. I can see the fatigue in your face, the bags under your eyes, your paleness. You’re not the detective you used to be.” Astrid leaned forward in her seat, putting her weight on her cane. “Gotham needs something new.”
Gordon’s phone rang, and for a brief moment he was thankful for the reprieve — but only for a moment.
 
 
I’d say I feel bad for the people at the Nighthawks game, but, if I’m totally honest, they had it coming. It’s about time everything caught up to them.
While we all ruminate on what’s happening at the game right now, let’s listen to some good music. This is Confetti by Viscera.
 
 
Batman had listened to as many notes as she could about a green gas that made anyone who inhaled it laugh uncontrollably. It typically led to suffocation through the inability to control the diaphragm, but this time it didn’t, and it confused the Dark Knight. A familiar sight, an attack that resulted in eery laughter, and yet it wasn’t what the city had seen before. None of the victims that hadn’t been in the initial blast had died, though medical care for each of them was necessary.
As much as she cursed herself for being late, not able to save anyone as the events unfolded, she knew that she needed to take control as fast as possible. She, along with every person in the city, dreaded what this attack meant. The name of a particular clown lingered on everyone’s tongues, though no one dared invoke his name.
Batman wasn’t so sure, and she hoped that her gut feeling was right. Most of the bodies that were recoverable had been extracted from the blast zone, over a dozen dead and dozens more injured. Blood and soot equally covered the destroyed seats, and even more on the concrete below.
One thing caught Batman’s eye amidst the mess, two sections away from the initial blast. A small instant print photograph, half burnt, laid on the ground, covered in dirty boot prints. She picked it up and looked it over, squinting as she studied the subject.
It was a blonde woman, head down with wet hair covering her face. Almost lost in the details was a small trail of blood behind the hair, mixing with trailing makeup. Batman frowned as she flipped the image over, seeing the note for a specific seat in the section of the stadium that had been blown to bits.
She approached the seat and kneeled, ducking down to see under the seat. It was one of few that remained intact after the explosions. Zack Howard’s Final Stop was scratched into the bottom of the seat, and at the sight of it, Batman signalled to Oracle to scan the engraving. She couldn’t identify the woman in the photograph, but she could see clearly enough that the attack was targeted at a specific person.
Another killer, she thought to herself, fearing what it could mean for the city. Pyg almost tore the richest members of the city’s economy apart, and they were ready to throw their own to the wolves. Now, there’d been a deadly gas attack at a football game — one that had been sponsored by many of Gotham’s elite.
The idea that the Clown Prince of Crime had returned was already making its way through the city — Batman knew she would have to exert control over everything she could to keep it from tearing itself apart at the seams. She was more than prepared to do so.
“It doesn’t look good,” she said to Oracle.
“Yeah,” she said, her voice distant. “I hope it’s just another copycat, they’re much easier to deal with.”
“I don’t know,” Batman replied, looking back at the photograph. “Something’s different.”