Context I Avery 19 year old female and Lucy (Not her real name) 18 year old female have been friends for a year. I am a grade above her and we are in the same fine art activity. We are both on the colorguard team at my school.
Our team isn’t necessarily good, but we aren’t bad. (To the people who know Scholastic AA). For some reason Lucy is obsessed with the idea she looks like me. All because of a comment someone made to her. They walked up to her thinking it was me from a far. She has made it her life mission to make herself me.
She was a primary flag on my team and I am a primary rifle. Since I am a senior in school I’m not getting ready for next season. However, my director is making all members who have done at least one season try rifle. Lucy was excited to try rifle saying she can be like me. I thought this was sweet cause she looked up to me, but I was very wrong.
Lucy happened to be really good at rifle. Nothing against her she’s a great person to have on the team, but her ego has gone way up. She’s been making fun of people who drop their rifle or use the wrong technique and she always comes in for reassurance saying things like “Right Avery she needs to slow down her toss or right Avery she needs to put her left hand completely to the side.” It puts me in a position that makes me uncomfortable and i’ve told her to stop.
Lately she’s been dressing like me. She always used to wear a Tee shirt, shorts, and her hair down to rehearsal, but lately she’s been wearing Sports bras, leggings, and pulls her hair into a braid. Just like me. She used to march around saying she hates the color pink (She’s a major tom boy), but now she wears it saying it suits her. She even bought my perfume. I thought it was weird, but I didn’t say anything cause I’ll be gone within a week anyways because of Graduation.
She was starting to really piss me off when she would make comments like “Avery look we both have a pimple on our cheek.” I’m extremely insecure about acne. She knows this. She would say things like “our cycles are synced it’s like our bodies are the same person.” “We’re both on our 15th set of invisalign. Our teeth are getting straighter together.”
Yesterday I was getting ready for a banquet with Lucy and some other girls from the team. It’s all fun and games till Lucy pulls out almost the exact same dress as me. There is no way she wasn’t trying to copy. I was going for a Audrey Hepburn look with a black dress, gloves, pearls, and Prada sunglasses. Lucy pulls out a shorter black dress, gloves, pearls, black sunglasses. She then exclaimed “Omg twin we’re gonna look so good. It’s almost like great minds think alike or something. People won’t even be able to tell us apart.”
I was livid to say the least. She knew I had been planing on that outfit since last banquet. I let it go it was my senior banquet it was fine. I take photos with everyone and she’s doing her thing when she puts her arm around my boyfriend’s shoulder. I immediately stand up from our banquet table and grab her arm swinging it off him. She said “Sorry I thought it would be a cute picture cause he’s dressed to match us.” I cut her off and said “No Lucy he’s dressed to match me. I’m not sure what you think your doing wanting to become me and comparing yourself to me, but it needs to stop.” She then rolls her eyes and slumps in her chair. She mumbled under her breath “I don’t look like you. You look like me. Get it right. You’re so obsessed.”
I started to yell at her “You don’t look like me. Not even a little bit. Your eyes are blue and mine are green. Your hair is brown while mine is blonde. Your nose slopes down and mine slopes up at the end. Your chin is slightly pointed and my sticks out. My eyes are almond while yours are hooded. I’m 5’11 and you’re 5’3. Your boobs are bigger than mine. My feet are bigger than yours. We do not look alike.”
At this point everyone is looking at us. Most people know what i’m getting at cause they asked me days ago why she was copying me. Lucy starts to cry called me some names and ran off. I cut the night short and went home. I told my mom in the morning and she told me I should’ve let Lucy live out her fantasy for a week till I graduate. A couple of friends of Lucy have texted me and called me an Asshole. But I don’t think I am.
Am I the Asshole?

In case you don't know, the Sun Princess is Princess Cruises' latest behemoth ship. I just got back from a 2-week sailing and took meticulous notes on this epic new vessel. Here's my extremely detailed, no-BS review:

The Sheer Size is Nuts

When I say this ship is massive, I mean it's absolutely nuts how big this floating city is. Especially when you get off in ports and have to walk back down the dock to reboard - that's when the sheer scale of the Sun Princess really hits you. Even though it carries a ton of people, the only time it really felt crowded was during breakfast. The Eatery fills up quick and the International Cafe, which sits outside The Eatery doesn't lend itself well for crowds of people wiaint for their coffees. You kind of end up waiting in the middle of where the walking traffic moves.

The Medallion Life

Your entire cruise experience revolves around the new Medallion wearable device and app, for better or worse. I'll admit it has some creepy "Big Brother" vibes with how much it tracks your every movement and purchase. But the convenience it provides is undeniable.
The medallion is your modern day "cruise card" that you tap everywhere to make payments, order drinks, unlock your stateroom, get on/off the ship, and more. But what's crazy is the app can use the medallion to detect your location anywhere on board. Order a drink or meal through the app and the server will manage to find you anywhere on the ship to deliver it, usually within 15 minutes. Caveat: there were times when it took longer and other times when our order was marked "delivered" and it never arrived.
The medallion definitely feels like getting on/off the ship is way faster. The only time we ever waiting in line was for the few minutes it took people to run through security.
This made getting food/drinks almost too easy. On port days when we needed to get off the ship early for excursions, setting up a scheduled delivery of my Egg McMuffin, fruit plate in coffee was really convenient.
Fair warning though - if you're anti-tracking and value privacy over convenience, the ubiquitous Medallion system may not be for you.
Story: we were sitting by the Crooners bar having our nightly pre-dinner cocktail. The bar was packed on this night for some reason. A staff member in a suit started wandering the room, made eye contact with me from 40-feet away and then made a b-line for us. He wanted to sign us up for a wine/food pairing event they were having. I have to believe this is because of the tracking being done via the meddalion. They could see we drink our share of wine. It definitely felt like targeted marketing.

Premium Package Was Best for Us

We opted for the Premium beverage package at $80 per day and I'm glad we did for a few reasons:

1. If you need to have more than one device connected to the internet at a time, Premium makes sense just based on that (you can have four devices). The cheaper Plus package only allows one device, which was a non-starter for me needing both my phone and laptop to be online. I'm unfortunately not able to just live off the grid for almost three weeks and need to periodically check in with my clients.
2. The wine selection is way better with Premium vs Plus. As a wine drinker, the upgrade was 100% worth it.
3. Two free speciality dining meals are included, which was clutch on our 2-week cruise to break up the repetition of the main dining rotation.
4. Unlimited premium desserts and ice creams - a nice perk for those with a sweet tooth.

Basically, Premium removed almost any need to think about or worry over costs on board. For $80 per day, the premium drinks, speciality dining, better wines, desserts and internet made it an easy choice for our group's needs.
And for those wondering about the 15 drink per day limit (since there's almost a weekly post asking about it) - it was never an issue for me. I'm a scrotch drinker and to get a decent pour, you basically have to order a double. Even drinking doubles, I never got to 15 drinks/day. This even includes sea days where we'd typically have a mimosa or two with breakfast, a few cocktails/beers at the pool, an cocktail or two before dinner and then wine at dinner.

Staff & Service

I can't say enough about how incredible and friendly the service was across the board on the Sun Princess. Our room steward, waiters, bartenders - everyone went so above and beyond daily, it really elevated the experience. I'm always amazed how they remember everyone's names.
However, we did notice a clear slip in the quality of service in the second week compared to the first, likely due to a crew changeover partway through our sailing. Simple things like forgetting drink orders or getting meals wrong became more frequent from our new set of MDR servers.

Suites & Staterooms

We originally booked a balcony room. When the bid offer came in I followed some old advice and just placed bids on upgrades because "you don't have to take the offer if you don't like it." Well guess what, that's not the case anymore. My offer was accepted and we automatically became the proud recipients of a Reserve Mini-Suite for an additional $500. In hindsight, I'm glad it worked out. The room has noticably more space than a standard balcony room. These mini-suites are spacious, basically a separate living room and bedroom divided by a curtain you can close off. Having two TVs and an extra closet was great.
As mini-suite guests we also received a nice amenity of free premium wines in our room - on the second week they even topped us up with two more complementary bottles! I guess each week is looked at as a new sailing -- so you get two more bottles! Some older posts complained about the wine quality. It looks like it's been upgraded because we received a Pinot Noir and Chard from La Crema. Being California wine people, La Crema works great for us. If you can swing it, I'd highly recommend going for a mini-suite over a regular balcony.
That being said, I'd avoid the "Cabana" balcony suites. The layout is really bizarre and in my opinion a downgrade. When you walk out onto your balcony, it's not really a balcony. There's another area in front of your balcony that connects a few other cabana suites. The idea is that a few rooms share a private balcony with jacuzzi. However, it also means that walking out onto your balcony doesn't give you a private ocean view because there's this 20-30 feet of additional patio in front of you and everyone above you just looks down into your balcony area.

Dining Highs & Lows

Main Dining Rooms

It can be confusing because there are three floors (Decks 6, 7 and 8). We reserved dining in the MDR prior to the trip via the app for the first few days just so we knew there was a guaranteed place to eat. On night one, the dining room manager introduced himself to us and said he went ahead and booked our table for us every night of the trip. If we didn't show, it was fine.
Food quality in the main dining rooms (MDRs) was consistently good across breakfast and dinner. On port days, it's an "express breakfast" which just means a shorter list of options. Nothing mind-blowing, but solid and tasty. My biggest gripe here is the operating hours. On sea days, the MDR closes for breakfast at 9:00am. You basically have to choose between sleeping in a little, hitting the gym, or getting a decent breakfast.
Pro-Tip: Biggest breakfast tip is stay away from the scrammbled eggs -- they're gross. We figured out that the scrambled eggs come from a bag. If you want real, cracked eggs, either get an omelett or over easy/medium/hard/etc.

Reserve Suite Dining Access

The Reserve mini-suite gives you access to the Reserve Restaurant. It's a little bit more elevated of a dining experience and reservations aren't needed -- you just show up. We dined her a few times and it did feel more elevated. Unlike the MDR, the server in the Reserve Restaurant feels more personal because they're handling smaller groups.

Lido Deck

For more casual fare, the Lido deck had some surprises like an awesome made-to-order salad bar station that became my go-to for healthier meals between all the indulgent dining. The burger grill, taco station and pizza areas were pretty standard, but that salad bar slapped.

Lackluster Buffet

On the flip side, The Eatery buffet left a lot to be desired. Despite different themed stations, the quality was mid at best. We largely avoided eating at the buffet outside of quick breakfast grabs. The Eatery closes for breakfast around 10:00 AM. At which point if you move further into the ship, the restaurants that are normall Catch and Butcherblock become a buffet extension that's opened later -- it's kind of funky.
The layout of the buffet is weird and leaves people wondering if they're cutting in line especially when you go to the extended buffet at Catch/Butcherblock.
What's odd to me is you can go grab a million cheese plates, fruit plates or hummus/veggie plates at the buffet. But if you order those things through the Medallion app, it's not "complimentary." You have to pay like $4.99-$5.99 for those items. We still can't figure out why it costs $5 to order a tiny cheese plate but ordering a cheeseburger is free.

Specialty Dining Winners

We used our two speciality dining credits at Crown Grill and Butcher's Block. I was a little worried because I had read mixed reviews on here about both of these restaurants. However, both meals were really good and before you come at me, I'm a foodie guy -- I'd tell you if they sucked.
We chose Crown for my parent's anniversay dinner. The service was awesome and they made us all feel really special. The setup here is like a steakhouse, where you order your beef and then the sides are a la carte family style. We had a group of seven -- the manager just said "we'll bring you out all the sides, enough for your whole party" which was great.
The next week, we hit up Butcher's Block by Dario. I've never left a meal more full on a cruise ship than at this place. It's family style dining and they just bring out everything for you -- almost like a brazilian barbecue place. We started with a bread appetizer and a glass of wine while you wait for them to get the dining room setup. Then there's more bread on the table + veggies. Then the food starts coming out: beef tartar; beef carpaccio; etc. The main event is the massive tomahawks and porterhouse steaks they carve up tableside. They'll just keep putting beef on your plate until you beg them to stop. Finally, there's desert and a grappa digestif.
Both restaurants were great experiences and a very welcomed change from the MDR after a week of repetition. The food, service and overall vibe were a noticeable step up.

Spellbound

We also splurged one night for the Spellbound immersive magic/dinner experience and it was easily a cruise highlight despite the $150/pp price tag. After an elevated multi-course meal, you get ushered by a guy in a top hat into an exclusive hidden club. While waiting for the magic show, you hang out in their bar which is reminiscent of the Dinseyland Haunted Mansion. While enjoying your drink, there's a magician perorming more intement magic for everyone at the bar. Once they're ready for the show, you're brought into the room where the actual magic show takes place. Afterwards, you're welcome to hang out in the Spellbound bar and continue drinking.
If you're from LA, you probably know about the Magic Castle in Hollywood. Spellbound is an extension of the Magic Castle. Just like with the Magic Castle, you show up in formal wear. This means a coat and tie for the men and an evening gown/dress for the woman.
Overall, we really enjoyed it.

Room Service

This was hit or miss for us. You fill out the paper door hangar and place it on your doorknob before heading to bed. Then you hope and pray that it will actually arrive -- which in two of our instances, it never did. Your options are also super limited. You also may or may not receive what you actually ordered. With coffee for instance, you have a choice of ordering it to-go (paper cup) or stay (actual coffe cup). We always seemed to get the opposite of what we ordered to the point where it became a running joke for us.

International Cafe

This became our goto for a lot of things: coffee, snacks, quick breakfast food (pastries, coffee cake, avodcado toast, Egg McMuffins). Werid fact though: if you order the Egg McMuffin through the app, it comes as an egg patty just like McDonalds and with cheese. When you get the one at International Cafe, it's just an over easy egg and no cheese. Why they can't just be the same is odd.

Night Owl Needs

My main dining gripe was the lack of solid late night food options for us night owls. The Eatery buffet closed at an absurd 10:30pm, leaving only spotty room service or mobile ordering as the choices if you worked up an appetite after evening activities. More robust late-night casual dining would be appreciated.

Bars & Alcohol

Overall, great selection of cocktails. All of the bars have their own little theme and different menus. The ladies I was with were consitently impressed at the quality and thought of the cocktails at each bar. They were also super impressed with the quality of the glassware being used. I must admit, everything from the rocks glasses to the martini glasses really were beautiful.
If you just want straight spirits, you have to order a double to get a normal pour (they're actually measuring out the pours). That being said, with either Plus or Premium, you'll get a good selection of top quality booze.
You gotta try really hard to hit the 15-drink max. Some days I had drinks at breakfast, during the day, lunch, before dinner, during dinner and after dinner. I never hit my max.
One thing that impressed me was staff actually being concerned about drink quality. We were having drinks at one of the bars on the Lido deck. The supervisor was upset with the bartenders because they ran out of premium liquor and hadn't requested more. He made sure to remind them that when someone orders a premium drink they get a premium liquor -- no exceptions.
You also must checkout the Good Spirits bar. There's a few times throughout the night where you watch a live cocktail demonstration. The bartenders at GS are so fun and playful -- really makes for a great vibe.

Amenities - Hits & Misses

The gym facilities on board were a bit of a disappointment, especially for a new ship. While they had a nice assortment of cardio machines, the actual weight room was laughably small with only a few pieces of strength equipment that were always monopolized. Not a deal-breaker, but an area that could be improved.
The pool areas were nicely spread out across different sections of the Lido deck. On sailing days, there was typically a band, the DJ and then a random movie on the jumbotron. The random blasting of action movies at 3pm really ruined the pool vibe and it's typically when the deck would thin out. One minute you're relaxing in the jacuzzi, the next an action movie with explosions is shaking the pool area. It made no sense and seemed tailored for a much younger crowd despite this sailing's passengers being mostly older adults.

Technology & Support

In addition to the Medallion app, the overall internet speeds on board were fast and reliable enough for me to easily stay connected for basic work needs.
The technology support via the app's live chat feature, however, was utterly useless. Any time we had issues properly being charged for drink packages or had to modify reservations, the live chat was a time-wasting nightmare. You're clearly just talking to an outsourced rep with zero actual knowledge of Princess' systems or operations. Your best bet is to go in-person to the guest services desk.

Other Notes & Quibbles

• Dress codes weren't enforced at all. We did the whole suite/gown routine for formal nights only to see plenty of people still rocking jeans and t-shirts in the MDR. Same lack of enforcement for the "formal attire required" Spellbound event. Either lose the formal nights or enforce them.
• Our drink package tallies often had errors, with our group's drinks randomly getting combined onto one person's account. Always double check and ask for corrections.
• The "Cabana" balcony suite layout is bizarre - your balcony is just a shared landing in front of other suites, rather than a private space. We avoided these after hearing the lack of privacy.

"Good evening, tributes, and welcome back to the stories of Panem. Before we begin, I would like to thank Christian Blanco, the original writer of "Tales of the Hunger Games," and Lauren from "Panem Reborn." Now, since I don't have too much else to say, let's go!
Game 114 (150):
District 1: Jacqueline and Facet
District 2: Malona and Crane
District 3: Darlene and Colt
District 4: Brook and Harbor
District 5: Unknown girl and Darian
District 6: Fifi and Atlas
District 7: Bloom and Amarylio
District 8: Scarlet and Carter
District 9: Zest and Mazin
District 10: Zulu and Mateo
District 11: Unknown girl and Lee
District 12: Dorothy and Hargree
District 14: Both unknown
A plethora of excitement crossed the capital over the past year, especially their beloved commentator Camilia Ravenstil's pregnancy, which resulted in her giving birth to twins named Amelia and Cyrus, to honor the past two Game Makers. Even Winnow's victory was still in high popularity.
As the reapings rolled around on July 4th, many of the capital citizens flew to their TVs and viewing parties. Winnow made her journey from district to district with her mother and entourage from the capital. When she landed in District 4 on the late morning of the third day of the reapings, she was greeted by Mayor Chigwell. After a rather long tour of the district's harbors and jewelry stores, they stopped at a nearby seaside diner for a brief lunch. Viewers in Snow Square laughed at Winnow's face of pure boredom as Mayor Chigwell ranted about the latest trends in the district's fashion. Winnow's face soon turned to relief as the mayor brought her back to the district's reaping square.
After a little bit of time, the light blue-catered youths were walked into the square by rather impatient Peacekeepers. Mayor Chigwell finished up his speech before welcoming Winnow to the stage. She gave out a rather tired smile at the district's population before talking about the joys of being a victor. She then asked if any of the girls wanted to volunteer. After hearing no response, she then took out the name of 17-year-old Brook Branachok.
Brook was found in the back of the 17-year-old section. Her platinum blonde hair made her quite noticeable to viewers in Snow Square. She sighed dramatically before flipping her blonde hair back in a dramatic manner as her piercing blue eyes even made some of her nearby peers shudder in fear as Brook arrived at the stage and shook Winnow's hand. "She was later described as a 'rich high school bully' by commentators. The girls in a mood," Winnow laughed before shaking Brook’s hand before walking to the male reaping bowl. After a brief silence, she thrusted her hand elbow-deep before taking out the name of 17-year-old Harbor Zanders. A brief pause soon followed by a discussion as a boy with dark brown curly hair with a smattering of light brown freckles on his face gave a guilt-ridden smile before walking up to the stage. However, as a group of teens his age giggled, Harbor turned back and glared at the giggling boys as they suddenly grew quiet. Harbor soon took out a flask of wine. Capital citizens laughed as Harbor found one of his friends and tossed it to him before walking back up to the stage. Back in the capital, both Camilia and Silca and even most of the audience had been surprised at the pair's striking attitudes.
Harbor then shook Brook and Winnow’s hand before they were announced as this year's tributes for District 4 before moderate applause followed. Winnow soon brought the two tributes to the drawing room before she made her journey to District 3 with her entourage.
Brook was visited by her mother, father, and four younger sisters clinging dearly onto their sister. After successfully removing her sobbing siblings, Brook’s mother calmed her daughter down as her father, Coral, gave the best advice he could offer. Peacekeepers soon came in to bring Brook to the waiting dock. She waved and said she’d "At least try to win."
As for Harbor, he was visited by his mother, father, and his younger and older brothers. As his siblings were saddened as well as his parents, Harbor embraced them all in a tight hug. Before he was needed at the dock, his girlfriend Melanie even joined in this hug causing Harbor to show some emotion.
After a few more minutes, peacekeepers soon brought Harbor out of the room to join Brook at the dock as the pair boarded the jet boat to the capital.
"Man, you've been through the ringer, haven't you?"
"Same goes to you, girl. Haven't seen you in a year."
The pair soon chatted with each other about their experiences at the academy and gossiping about old friends. Brook, in particular, laughed hysterically when Harbor mentioned how his ex-girlfriend got karma returned to her when she crashed a birthday party at Harbor’s dad's bar, resulting in the peacekeepers putting her in the district's jail for a month.
However, as the pair tried to dine upon the food provided, the boat hit a bump resulting in Brook, Harbor, four avoxes, the dining table, and nine peacekeepers to go flying up into the sky. Thankfully, no harm came between the fifteen as the peacekeepers then helped the two back up as a new lunch buffet was arrived. And so did their mentor, Sienna Shoreville, victor of the 105th Hunger Games, arrived in.
"I don't want you two to ally with the 2s, maybe the 1s, depends on how they are."
Brook looked curiously at Sienna before saying, "Didn't Anamaria get her neck snapped by the girl a year prior?"
Sienna groaned in annoyance at remembering this cringeworthy death before walking to the bar carriage before inviting the two to join. As Sienna asked the pair about their lives, she laughed while listening to Harbor telling some stories of working at his dad's bar and the customers who would frequent the place. However, when Sienna asked Brook about her life and possible skills, Brook sighed before saying, "I guess looking pretty’s a skill."
Sienna laughed before replying, "For getting sponsors, yes, but not when you're in a fight to the death."
As this reality check wiped the smile from Brook’s face, she and Harbor finished up their meals before listening more to Sienna’s lecture about the games. And as an act to see if her tributes were actually paying attention, she quizzed them on the dos and don'ts in the capital. As Harbor passed this quiz, Sienna laughed before allowing him some "Capital Goodies." However, as Brook blatantly failed the quiz, she laughed and called Harbor a "suck-up" before walking to her room.
Sienna looked at Harbor for a second before saying, "I guess she’s either related to the mayor or is a spoiled rotten brat."
"She usually brags about her rich family members, always thinks she's better than everyone."
"And trust me, the girl ain't pretty."
Sienna and Snow Square laughed as she then patted him on the back before""telling him to get a 'nap' in before they were to arrive in the capital."
He nodded before Brook returned. It is unknown what the two girls talked about for the remainder of the trip, but our historians have noted that Brook’s scowl from before had dissolved for the time being. As evening rolled around, the pair from District 4's boat landed at Mcaine dock as an excited crowd of capital citizens swarmed the pair from 4 and their very popular mentor, who had been giving out her new jewelry to some of her lucky fans.
Brook and Harbor performed rather well, with the capital citizens enjoying their "feisty sailor attitudes." Even some reporters from Golden 24 put up a most popular tribute poll with Harbor and Brook being in the top 3, narrowly beating Fifi from District 6.
Sienna then thanked the capital for their time before taking her tributes to the limousine. Once it arrived at the accommodation tower, they arrived at the 4th floor. After arriving, Sienna called their stylist, Orivile Cartwright.
Orivile embraced Sienna before showing his tributes his pre-made outfits, which were Sailor themed, which made Brook and Harbor smile. Due to them having a fair amount of time left, Sienna displayed the post-reaping commentaries before turning on the commentary for District 1 as Orivile worked away at the pairs' outfits.
Mayor Cassino greeted a very exhausted Winnow Fraiser. Also accompanying the mayor was Realm Jones, victor of the 101st Hunger Games, and Quintin Mahoney, victor of the 108th Hunger Games, joined Winnow on the initial tour. Winnow appeared to be star-struck sitting between both iconic victors. She even turned around to Quintin saying, "I can't believe I get to meet a legend like you."
Quintin laughed before giving Winnow some comic relief during the tour, telling her about his games and even asking a few questions about her own games. At the conclusion of the tour, Realm's eyes lit up in delight as he saw his own capital mentor, Narcissa Valentions, warmly embracing her mentee.
"So what're you doing here?"
"I had some time off. I figured I'd come by and see how you've been doing. Business at my shop has been bustling as ever, so I figured I’d take a break to see my first victor."
As Realm and Narcissa soon walked over to the talent demonstrations together, Quintin laughed as Mayor Cassino welcomed the scarlet youths. Winnow was then brought up to the stage. She asked if any of the youths wanted to volunteer, becoming surprised when 10 ladies and 8 gentlemen volunteered for the role of tribute for District 1. Silca joked with Camilia, saying, "It's normal for them, isn't it?"
With the ladies' many remarkable weapon displays and archery displays, 18-year-old Jacqueline Faywether had been announced as the final volunteer to try her luck. She smiled at many nearby cameras as even one enthralled boy in the audience fainted seeing the rather extractive career girl.
She shot 10 arrows blindfolded and threw 8 knives in the letter J form, causing even more ripples of laughter sounded in the square. The mayor announced the two passing tributes. As for the two tributes, Jacqueline’s only remaining opponent, Jewel, had almost won the title of female tribute but had a stroke leading to Jacqueline to win the title of female tributes.
As for the guys, 18-year-old Facet Elixithorn had made himself a crowd and capital favorite by his spear-throwing display and to ending in a handstand with wild applause following. Three guys made it to the debate round with Realm this time asking the questions. With poise and dignity, Lance’s strong mind and less nerves had won him the title of male tribute for District 1.
After the pair were bathed and stylized, they were then brought out to the square as they then shook Winnow’s hand before she announced Jacqueline and Facet were announced as the tributes for District 1.
And after a brief meeting with their families and friends with not too much emotion, Jacqueline and Facet were then brought to the train as the train began their journey to the capital.
Narcissa, Realm, and Quintin then greeted their tributes with Jacqueline and Facet being surprised seeing their district's first victor’s mentor. Quintin soon brought the four to the table having a brief dinner with Narcissa asking the two if they had any skills besides their ‘weapons of choice.’ Quintin was pleased to hear of Jacqueline's diverse skills of weaponry before bragging to her district partner about her achievements at the Kobayashi self-defense center. However, instead of being jealous, Facet asked his district partner about her accomplishments.
Realm and Quintin were pleased with their tributes getting along with each other before showing the past reapings in the districts. Facet and Jacqueline laughed hysterically at the District 2 reaping games even Narcissa let out a smile. Quintin then asked the pair if there had been “Other commendable allies besides the non-dazzling loonies from 2 besides Jade and Hermina, they are dazzling.” Realm also chimed in adding that they should “Look for others.”
However, as Jacqueline was going to ask why Realm shushed her and said, “The career pack has their on and off years.” Jacqueline nodded before Quintin continued talking to the pair about the past reapings. Facet and Jacqueline even suggested the girl from 3 and the pair from 4 as potential allies. Realm appeared to consider this before Quintin added in that “He would see what he could do.”
As the pair nodded, the pair from 1’s train arrived in the outskirts of the capital. Narcissa soon styled the pair up, quietly complaining to Realm of how Jacqueline's red hair and Facet's long blonde curls were impossible to tame. The train then arrived in the capital with the usual excited capital crowd marveling scarlet couture. Jacqueline and Facet were both outstanding hits with the capital citizens maintaining proper etiquette. However, two capital lights had to be removed from the audience after heckling Facet about his district partner. Narcissa then wished Jacqueline and Facet luck before kissing Realm and Quintin on the cheek. Realm and Quintin then thanked the capital citizens for their time before bringing the pair from 1 to the limousine as it brought them to their accommodation tower.
Once they arrived at their accommodation tower apartment, they were greeted by their stylist, Aurelia Heavensbee. She smiled at the four of them before whisking them to the dining table showing them her designs for the parade. Jacqueline in particular was marveling at her long ruby dress as Facet jokingly told Jacqueline that they looked like a “walking jewel.” However, Aurelia frowned as Realm glared at Facet as the smile was wiped from his face. The pair then groaned in annoyance at their stylist's bland outfits.
Before the pair were then brought to the parade moments later, Facet and Jacqueline were immediately approached by Malona and Crane, both from 2 introducing themselves. However, Facet cut the pair off from further words, saying, “the career pack is gonna be different this year.” As Malona protested, Jacqueline said, ‘thanks but no thanks.” Both Jade Heath and Herminia Gold looked at the District 1 mentors in bewilderment as they also reciprocated. However, the pair from 1 then came over to the pair from 4 chatting with their mentor.
“Darling, you look stunning.”
“Oh, thank you, you dazzling ruby.”
Brook and Jacqueline seemed to obtain an instant connection. As Facet complemented Harbor’s outfit. Harbor smiled good-naturedly back before chatting away with him about lives in their districts. Facet soon asked the pair if they would be interested in an alliance in the arena; however, Sienna leaned in this conversation asking “Where are the 2s?”
Jacqueline then replied that they were “trying something new this year” before pointing at the pair making fun of Mateo from 10’s cow-themed parade outfit. Sienna shrugged as Brook and Harbor warmly accepted the offer as Facet and Jacqueline smiled saying “splendid see you soon.” When the pair from 1 got back, Realm popped up asking “You with the 4s this year.” As the pair nodded, Realm smiled and nodded with Quintin and Aurelia doing their touch-ups to their tributes' outfits. Sienna commended the pair for “making friends already,” she still urged caution before re-adding in “The 2 mentors there are my ride or dies but still keep your eyes on them if needed.”
The pair then nodded as the parade then began. Regal applause and cheers sounded for the pair from 1, but Nico Anderson lead editor of Anderson Fashion applauded for their strong impression but said the dress was “So Basic.” The pair from 4 were given a large amount of applause as Harbor and Brook waved at the audience even performing an old dance known as a “Jig”. The pair were also given a boatload of flowers and chocolate resulting in both Brook and Harbor sneezing uncontrollably at the end of the parade during President Mcaine's speech. Best dressed was ultimately awarded to the pair from 4 with their sailor-themed couture.
When the pair from 1 arrived back in their district apartment, they were glaring daggers from afar at Aurelia,
“How did it go.”
“How did it feel getting harshly criticized on live TV.”
Quintin shot Jacqueline a disapproving look as Realm asked if there other worthy allies. Both mentors were pleased hearing their success with the pair from 4 before Realm reassured them that they still looked “dazzling” before sending his tributes to bed. However, with the pair from 4, Sienna warmly embraced the two of her tributes on a best-dressed win. As Orville also joined in the group hug has the 4 of them partied till around 11:30 pm until Sienna sent her tributes to bed as she and Orville stayed up a while longer.
Bright and early the following morning, the mentors ushered their tributes to the training center with a very frustrated Apollo Price. Unfortunately, during his speech about the rules of the training center, he tasered Mateo from 10 after he tried to make a break for the door after Price’s speech concluded. Mateo’s mentor Bianca Jr Ramon rolled her eyes before dropping her mentee at the knife station.
The newly made career alliance between the District 1 and 4 tributes conquered most of the training stations with Facet and Harbor bonding over dropping and throwing large weights causing Fifi from 6 to wet herself earning a smirk from the boys. When Mateo awoke from his unconscious slumber, he immediately ran to Mateo asking him to spare. Since Mateo was no older than 14 and he was the youngest tribute the careers laughed before Facet told him to “Buzz off”. However, as Mateo continued to pester the career boys, Harbor gave Facet a knowing look before accepting Mateo’s sparing request.
A short crowd of tributes went to the jousting stations as Mateo and Harbor were briefed on the rules before being allowed to go at it. It was no surprise that Harbor won all 4 rounds.
“Easy”.
Harbor smiled warmly before being tackled to the ground by the 14-year-old boy from 10.
“You think you're better than me HA you rotten career boy.”
As Price Facet Brook and even Sienna tried to step in Harbor held his hand up to stay back. Harbor then threw the boy off him before pinching the nerve on Mateo’s neck knocking him clean out. As training master Price and Sienna looked at him in bewilderment before Price smiled saying
“Good job kid”.
Harbor smiled before Facet and he returned to the weight station and survival, knife and axe stations even giving advice to Amarylio from 7 with starting fires.
As for the girls they mainly gossiped to themselves and having “Girl talk” at the aquatic station sword station and archery stations. When any tribute tried to use the archery station both Jacqueline and Brook would melodicaly but fiercely slam there weapons into the targtes.
At the end of the traing head master price brought the tributes to the asscors room. Due to the request of the new head game maker the tributes assesment scores were kept strictly confidential. However tabloid reporters manage to scoop out that Jacqueline Facet Harbor and Malona from to managed to score at the top of the pack with a 11. Brook and Amarylio scored a 9 and at the bottom of the pack was Mateo and Hargree from 12 scoring a 3 each.
Both Sienna Quintin and Realm were beyond impressed with there tributes scores before they’re stylist sketched up potential outfits with there mentors soon quizing the pairs on interview educate.
Camilia Ravenstil welcomed the excited capital audience modeling a rather gothic dress that made her look like a ghost tree by the audience. The audience even laughed good naturedly as Camilia shook for a second as leaves fell of her costume as if wind had hit her. She then exictedly welcomed Jacqueline from 1. She was adorned in a stunning pink and red dress with her hair put up in braids. The two had some gossip before reavling to the audience that she was a decdent of Emarld Rivelta victor of the 34th hunher games. Camilia slapped her knee and laughed saying “Thats who you resmbl I guessed right I knew it!”
As the girls chatted the audience loved her regal responses to Camilas questions as even mentoning the carrer alliance brought the crowd into rapsous cheers,even when she talked about her allies from 4 openly. She then kissed Camilia on the hand before bowing which caused even more cheers before she was dismissed back stage. Facet was welcomed in next marveling a sleeveless pink suit with ruby jeans making many of the capital audience to swoon over his physeigue. Even Camilia was taken aback by his charm and confidence as he spoke about his training experience and the strength of his alliance with Jacqueline. His witty remarks and easygoing demeanor captivated the audience, earning him loud applause and admiration.
Later on into the night brook was welcomed in next with wild cheers and wolf whistles sounding. With her hair being dyed a pure yellow with a light brown dress resembling sand following her. She proceeded to have the same amount of banter with Camilia as Jacqueline did however Camilia cut her off as she was finshing up talking about her dads money saying “Honey this is the hunger games.”
“Yeah and Ill live how I like before the games.”
As a few jeers sounded the rest of her interview was rather dull the only light being Camilia shooing the “Regina George” of the stage. As Camila then called Harbor loud cheers sounded again as Harbor walked on to the stage with his curly black hair and brown eyes making him quite attrauctive to many even his pirate themed coustume became an over night sensation with many fashion designers stating that they wanted this fashionable suit.
As Camilia asked Harbor about the games becoming pleased with his short but sweet responses. Even cracking some good jokes about the other competitors mainly about Bloom from 7 and Mateo from 10 . To conclude Harbor’s inteviwed he tossed his waist coat to teh crowd as an excited gagle of captial ladies clammered for this waist coat. As his interview ended on a high. Finaly after the interview of the boy from 14 the new head game maker Natellia Swan was welcomed to the stage. Head game maker swan was adorned in a regal black gown also sporting garish make up making her resmble more of ghost then human. After introducing herself to the excited capital audience Camila smiled before shaking her hand saying that “Game maker swan has alot to accept from.” She laughed before giving hint out to teh audience by pointing to both of the laides dresses. Curious osund sof inteirgue soon followed as game maker swan smiled and bowed as she then left the stage as Camilia then ended the interviews there. The next morning tributes were given a breif breakefst before being brought to the arena’s holding room.
This years outfits consisted of black coats with black jeans and snakers with there distristicts nymbers stickered on the back of there coats. Realm visited Facet before reminding him to stick with Jacqueline and Harbor and Brook. However before Realm finished Facet replied “That girl Brook might be problem.” Realm nodded and agreed before reminding him to keep an eye on her before shaking his hand as he went into his tube. Jacqueline was visited by Quintin the pair had a similar conversation as Realm did with Facet before Jacqueline embraced Quintin and thanked him joking “District 1 needs more ladys.” Quintin laughed before hugging her back before walking Jacqueline to her tube. As for Brook she was not visited by Sienna nor Orvilve a fact that suprised her the most but shrugged before patiently puting her hair up in a bun and waiting for the tribute call to sound. As for Harbor Sienna visted him. She embacred Harbor before reminding him to “ Keep an eye on all of them.”
Harbor smiled before thanking Sienna for her mentor ship before Sienna walked Harbor to his tube his tube and at mid day the podiums then arose into the arena.
Arena Ghosty lake Game 114

Genocide looked to the sky. He thought of his mentor. The one who had saved him. He remembered his childhood. How powerless he was. He remembered the anger. He never wanted to hurt anybody. He thought of all the times he showed compassion. How much they hurt him for it. He saw the world before him, a graveyard. Humans. People that were supposed to be made in the image of some divine creator. They were but maggots feasting upon his remains. They ate away at his very being until nothing human remained. His thoughts were no longer his own. He had no joys in life that mattered. He hated humanity more than he could love anything about himself. He remember his first killing spree. Being gunned down by police. Left for dead. He remembered a hooded figure moving towards him. Getting closer the more he neared his death. He saw its pale face. Its impossibly black eyes. It was a man. This figure in question appeared to be of Japanese nationality with long, straight, loose hair. It emanated extreme malice. It offered him a choice. A purpose. Power. He thought the figure a reaper but it identified itself as Amakusa Masataka. Masataka guided him on how to kill and gave him specific locations to kill people in. In a sense, he became a hitman for quotas of people. He inquired what Masataka was. The presence of evil, his ability to appear and disappear at will, how he could control what people could see him and what people couldn't. While vague, years of killing for this being offered some insight. Amakusa Masataka belonged to a group of people not of this world. His people had been corrupted by a dark force long ago and had aligned themselves with the warlord who had subjugated their version of Japan. Their dark high priest assisted the warlord along with two others. These four rulers in turn served a larger order. The four were tasked with bringing about the end of the current world as an act of retribution for some fallen deity. Masataka's people acted as covert operatives for this empire. They were feared across the land and were collectively referred to as "Shinigami". An agent of the coming apocalypse, a servant of evil possessed by the will of those gods of death, Genocide would walk the earth.
Genocide stepped toward the station. A police cruiser rammed into him. He pulled out a knife and stabbed the hood of the car. The inhuman force of the knife created sparks which burst the engine into flames. The car crashed into a streetlight and exploded. A second cruiser neared the scene. No way a man could have done this. Yet still, out of the fires Genocide strode forth. It set upon the second vehicle, shooting out it's tires while jumping 9 feet into the air. The car tries to reverse but crashes into a wall. Genocide lands on the hood and kicks through the front window. Glass shatters under its boot, blinding the two officers inside. Genocide shoots one of the officers with a shotgun, killing him. The second officer in the passenger seat readies his pistol and takes aim. Only two shots fired, both directed at Genocide's head. It casually cocks its neck to avoid them. Then it grabs the officer's arm, breaking it. Genocide uses its free hand to grab the officer's head and bangs it into the dashboard no less than 5 times. The skull is shattered on the final impact. Genocide jumps off the car and continues on his mission.
Detective Evans speaks through a megaphone," This is your first and final warning. Stand down or we will use any and all means at our disposal to put you down." Genocide dropped its shotgun and raised its hands. A group of five SWAT team members rushed out the station, surrounding Genocide with riot shields. An officer accompanies them, edging behind the figure to apply handcuffs. Suddenly, Genocide springs to life , grabbing the officer behind him. He flips the officer over his head, slamming him into the pavement at his feet. Then Genocide stomps his head causing it to burst. Genocide drops a flash bomb from his coat sleeve, blinding the SWAT team as he draws his knife. He drives it into one SWAT member, the knife puncturing the shield and piercing his chest. Genocide kicks the corpse away withdrawing his knife. He goes to another, this time using the end of his boot toe in a rising kick to disarm their shield. He grabs them by the throat and drives the knife slowly into their eye socket. Another is tackled to the ground and beaten to death despite still being under the shield. Another is picked up and thrown into the fires still burning from the first auto incident. In no time, Genocide stood before an indistinguishable mass of gore, blood streaking across his black leather outfit. He laughed" So this is all you can give me. I'm not entertained." Officers took aim from the station windows, and snipers did so from other rooftops. Genocide laughed maniacally as he was rained down upon from all sides by a hailstorm of bullets. His body convulsed, but he did not fall. Moments more and he was on his knees. Still though, their efforts were futile. Gracia looked out and saw a black mist coalescing around the man in black. His blood. Blood erupted from his body only to transform into this dark mist that reentered his wounds. Genocide screamed. No. It was just an elevated pitch in his laughter. Optimism failed everyone yet again. Gracia saw Genocide holding something in his right hand. She could only make out a beeping red light. Genocide pushed the button triggering the carefully concealed explosives he laid in preparation for this event. C4 explosives went off in all the places he saw fit. The sniping posts he couldn't reach. The assault of lead lightened. Then Genocide drew an RPG from...somewhere. He collected himself and fired at the station's entrance. The explosion shook the station. From inside, the lights began to flicker. Communications were down on all fronts. Had he modified the rocket with some type of EMP? Not good. Amisdst the confusion Genocide entered using smoke bombs to mask his presence. Moving like a shadow, he killed everyone in the lobby silently with his knife. He made his way to the holding cells. Still they chanted. Still they praised. Still they raved for the arrival of genocide. Genocide shot the lock opening the cell. Jim Jimenez walked out and bowed before his master. Genocide smiled. He couldn't have imagined how proficient he had gotten with possession. Well, not quite possession. He had known of the Shinigami's ability to share their thoughts and emotions with humans. Shinigami like his mentor were ancient. They had so many years of memories, such strong a hatred for life that they overwhelmed the personality of the victim. The victim sees themselves as one of them. Shinigami can't force the will of the victim, so they find those who are already similar to them in some way. Genocide found the collective universal distrust of police to be a prime sentiment to capitalize on. He armed the inmates, infecting them with samples of his own dark essence.One particular inmate caught Genocide's eye. He knew the man's work. An arsonist. The one whom he recalls was responsible for blowing up his first car way back in high school. Rather than a standard firearm, Genocide gave the man a random assortment of grenades containing a special surprise. Genocide showed them visions of anarchy, of sending a message to a society that used and disregarded them. While this was also true of how he felt, years of living in darkness had changed him. He needed no purpose. No end goal. No justification. He just wanted to watch the world burn.
Genocide's small army broke off to engage several different wings of the station. Genocide went to the security room. He found Wayne, his informant, playing some FPS on one of the monitors. Wayne took of his headphones and asked," You kill everyone yet?" Genocide responded," No. You should get going before that happens. Your life becomes fair game if I run out of pigs to cook." Wayne clapped his hands, "Aight, GC my man, say less." He packed his things and left. Genocide drew a twin pair of handguns and laid waste to the station. He followed a group that took cover in the men's restroom. Kicking open multiple stalls he was surprised to find...nothing. Where had they gone? He turned around and saw his mentor, Masataka, smiling at him. It looked like him. Long, dark hair, black clothing, and soulless, empty eyes. But it wasn't. It was Genocide's own reflection in the mirror. Genocide smiled. He didn't notice the changes at first. They must have happened gradually. Subconsciously. From the final stall, an officer sprung into action, rushing Genocide, hitting him point blank with a shockgun round. Genocide felt the tingling sensation electrifying his body and grew numb. In spite of the pain, he took a single step. Then, another. He came within striking range of the officer and snatched the shockgun. Two more officers erupted from another stall, battering him with baton strikes. Genocide felt nothing. He clutched the shockgun in his hand like a bat and went to work pulverizing his attackers. An officer kicked in the bathroom door, a woman holding a pistol. She fired multiple times to no effect. Genocide stood covered in blood. He even let her reload. Twice. He wanted to see her despair. Her hopelessness. He walked towards her, shrugging off bullets as they pierced his body. His wounds healed nigh instantly due to the dark essence he had been imbued with. He held her face with both hands, lifting her body off the ground. As she screamed, he used her head to shatter the restroom mirror, running down the full length of it while smashing her into it at several points. He dropped the remains of what he held, washed his hands with soap, dried them, then exited the restroom.
The inmates that rallied for the cause of genocide attacked the station. Fortunately, they were nowhere near Genocide in terms of power and only carried one type of firearm each. They shared his healing ability but could be killed quite easily. Gracia encountered a sniper on the end or a west wing hallway. Other officers waited behind corners unable to get close. Gracia noticed the faulty lighting. In this hallway, the lights flickered in intervals of 3 seconds. Finding a pattern and timing her movements, she rushed the sniper at the exact moment the lights went out. Running the length of the hall, Gracia zigzagged, dodging the sniper inmate's bullets. She jumped on a wall, ran 3 feet on it, then kicked off it, pouncing on the assailant. She fired five shots into him, making sure to hit the brain and the heart. Two severe injuries that were impossible for Shinigami essence to heal simultaneously. Elsewhere, Evans took on another escaped inmate. A vehicular arsonist named Carson. Carson had a bag filled with an assortment of different grenades and was happily giving them out like candy on Halloween. "A flash bang here, a bit of tear gas there. Oh. Wait! Was that an ice grenade? Did the explosion freeze your leg to the floor? Whoops. Maybe a fire grenade will melt that for you. Hold on let me get one fore you," Carson rambled gleefully. Evans looked at the carnage before him. Officers burning. Officers partially frozen in blocks of ice. He took a breath and aimed his wristgun. He steadied his right forearm. Carson readied to throw a random grenade. Evans shot it the moment it left Carson's hand. The grenade exploded directly in front of Carson. Both Evans and Carson looked at each other in shock. Confetti. A party grenade? Carson quickly fumbled for another but was tackled and restrained by several officers. Meanwhile in the South wing, Lary had some colleagues set a trap for another shotgun toting inmate. He had them bait the inmate and flee. Giving chase he turned a corner and ran straight into Lary's fist. The inmate recovered and motioned to shoot Lary. "Let's tango. " Lary gave the code word. Nearby officers activated a device. A signal jammer of sorts. The inmate shoved the barrel of his gun into Lary's gut and pulled the trigger. Nothing. The special signal jammer in question was designed for firearms. It was a last resort as it left officers just as defenseless. Lary was having fun. He boxed the inmate in hand to hand combat. Despite the inmate's enhanced strength, Lary's technique pulled through. Lary ducked under one of the inmate's wide punches and did some type of rising uppercut where he jumped off the ground while spinning. One of the other officers whispered" The rising dragon." Lary smiled giving a thumbs up" Yeah, it was a rising dragon uppercut. Saw it in one O my kid's vidya games. Thought I'd try it out while I'm jacked on adrenaline".
Jim Jimenez looked long and hard at himself in the mirror. He was in the women's restroom. Some brainless woman had broken the men's restroom mirror with her face. For the first time in a long while Jim could think clearly. He was becoming sane. At the least he was no longer a raving lunatic. The life essence of the dark gods had healed the wounds to both his body and his mind. He saw his face, his scraggly dirty beard. He found a razor and shaved. He trimmed his beard somewhat. He liked it. He washed his hair. It fell down his face like silk, no longer greasy. His bloodshot eyes once burning with crazed intensity had cooled. He blinked. Just for a second, he saw the man known as Genocide. The man that attacked him. The one that killed him and gave him new life. The drug dealers. The police. They were all the same in his eyes now. They were all to blame for the world being what it is. Jim wanted to hate them. He wanted to take revenge, but he felt nothing. It didn't matter. He knew he was wronged, could logically justify acting against them, but he just didn't care anymore. About anything. He was finally free. Sensing his presence was no longer needed here, Jim vanished into the night. He needed to find someone who had had the answers he needed. Himself. Who had he been? Who was he now? Who could he become? Where was he going? So many questions to ponder indefinitely. So much time left in the rest of his life.
Genocide ran down the station's halls raining hailstorms of bullets upon its occupants. He had a handgun in each hand as well as a wristgun on each wrist. This effectively gave him 4 separate firearms that he could use simultaneously. Lary regrouped with Gracia, Evans, and a handful of others. They radioed all surviving officers near Genocide to flee to the roof. This plan had been set in motion days before the assault and had been kept hidden from most of the force. The plan involved scheduling flights for several helicopters to arrive at some point after Genocide arrived. There would be no way for him to prepare for them and pre-scheduling their arrival ensured they arrived regardless of if they were called or not. Lary and the others set about preparing the second jamming device. Genocide stood among a hallway of bodies. He saw one man clinging to life trying to crawl away. He decided on trying that other thing he saw his master do. He grabbed the dying man and pinned him to the wall. Slowly he drove a knife into his chest. As the man's life slipped away, something else entered his body. Genocide channeled a small amount of his essence into the vessel. He had steadily done this with other casualties around the station whose bodies were somewhat salvageable. He dropped the body he was holding and looked upon the others. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his eyed were black, both sclera and iris. The scene before him changed. Genocide had a vision. He saw a dead gray wasteland littered with bodies. These people however weren't cops and wore traditional Japanese attire. In his hand wasn't a gun or knife but a short sickle akin to a farming tool. He heard a dark voice call out to him. Slowly, the corpses around him began to rise, now mere puppets bound eternally to their master's whim. The bodies sold to the reaper who had claimed their lives. Genocide's vision ended. His eyes had returned normal. Around him, dead cops began to rise. His dark essence had entered their bodies and reanimated them. He sent his dead army to attack the officers fleeing to the roof of the station. These zombies swarmed the stairwell giving chase to the few survivors. There were five of them. They had two flights of stairs to climb and a horde of their former colleagues close behind them. One officer tripped and was set upon by the horde. The zombies didn't bite them but held them firmly in place. The other four officers stared down wondering what to do. They could hear Genocide chuckling. They could hear humming. They could feel the temperature rising. Their colleague and the two zombies holding him were hit by an enormous green fireball. Genocide had fired a Magnum Opus and had charged the bullet to level 3. The Magnum Opus was simply a magnum that shot fireballs, with bullets that could be charged by holding down the trigger. It had three levels of charges. Level 1 was a small reddish ball of plasma. Level 2 was slightly larger and yellow. Level 3 was the maximum charge and resulted in a large slow moving green blast of energy. The officer was ignited and Genocide watched gleefully as the force of the blast sent him flying through a wall. The four officers continued up firing occasionally to slow down the zombies. Soon they made it to a door leading to the roof. Before one officer could reach it, he was sniped by Genocide, a bullet to the head killing him instantly. The remaining three made it out. They regrouped with the others already there, 12 in total, including Lary, Evans, and Gracia. This would be their final stand. They just had to hold out until Genocide made it up there. They just had to keep Genocide occupied until the helicopters arrived. Genocide slowly ascended the stairs behind his horde. On the roof, the remaining survivors faced off against waves of the undead. Evans recognized the attackers. These zombies were being controlled by nanomachines. He heard the stories of several weapons encountered by soldiers on the battlefield. These creatures were called Metaldeads as they were reanimated via machines. They had been officially banned by most of the worlds' governments for being unethical. However, this did not stop the technology from being spread still between shady organizations, terrorists, etc. Evans wondered how Genocide got this form of nanotechnology. Evans long speculated that the dark essence used by most of the killers they encountered was a a form of nanotech however it was different from anything else he had seen or heard about. The dark essence seemed to be an amalgamation of other types of nanotech. Evans had to save his inquiries for later. He reloaded his wristgun and took aim at the approaching group of Metaldeads. Gracia steadied her handgun and shot two Metaldeads in the head. From the single door countless arms seemed to spill forth from the darkness. The other officers took turns firing in intervals. this allowed them to create a steady stream of fire where no more that three guns needed to be reloaded at once. The horde seemed to thin out over time as if they were making progress. In actuality, the Metaldeads were just making room for Genocide to enter. Genocide exploded in a sprint from the door. Everyone fired upon the killer. Genocide had now chosen a wrist mounted mini flamethrower to use as his weapon. He stormed past the oncoming bullets taking some damage, but refused to slow down. He unleashed a stream of fire that caught five of the officers in one fell swoop. Gracia fired five rounds into Genocide's face. He stumbled back. Lary took the chance to fire several mine gun bullets at Genocide's feet. The mines quickly detected his movement and exploded. In seconds, Genocide was on his back.
Staring at the night sky Genocide saw the moon. He reached for it. He called for the darkness to give him more power. His wounds began healing. In the sky he could hear the whirl of propellers. There were six helicopters in total. The first two had evacuated the survivors while the others stayed to engage Genocide. Genocide got up and unstrapped the sniper rifle from his back. He stood before the searchlights as a black silhouette, cornered but unwilling to back down. Lary stared down at him smiling. "Okay!" He shouted, "Let's Tango!" Upon this declaration the second jamming device was activated. Now, isolated on the roof, Genocide's guns couldn't be fired and the helicopters were out of range of the device. Now Genocide stood like a sitting duck. A helicopter fired a rocket. Genocide side stepped and grabbed it. He turned his body redirecting the rocket to hit another helicopter. As it exploded Genocide drew his knife and threw it at another helicopter. Behind the knife was such force that it shattered the helicopter window's glass, embedding itself in the pilot. This helicopter too went down where it exploded. "Holy clucknuggets!Did you see that!?" Lary said dumbfounded. Evans looked out the helicopter door he was in jaw open in shock. "There's no way." He collected himself quickly and radioed the remaining two helicopters to keep moving and to use their machineguns as much as possible. The helicopters reigned down upon Genocide tearing apart his body. Shreds of leather and darkened blood sprayed across the pavement of the roof. Gracia watched as Genocide's body was destroyed repeatedly as it tried to heal. Surely he had to stop at some point. After 10 minutes the helicopters had exhausted their cache of ammunition and soldiers opted to fire their own rifles and occasionally throw grenades. After about six minutes, they too had run out of bullets. Genocide stood unfazed. He had long since healed himself and now appeared intangible with gunfire seeming to pass through his body. His coat once ripped , now appeared whole though on closer inspection seemed to writhe. Gracia looked in horror as she remembered the tales her adopted father had told her. Tales he had in turn heard from his predecessors. Every so often officers had reported encounters with ghost like beings cloaked in a cloud of living dark mist. The beings were rumored to be responsible for the deaths of multiple people ranging from scientists, veterans, mafia, politicians, etc. They were seen near such crime scenes and even more shockingly appeared around several sites where suicides were committed. These beings were reportedly impervious to bullets and filled anyone who got near with an impending sense of dread. If Genocide was connected to them or somehow turning into one , there was little chance they would be able to defeat him. Gracia's fears were confirmed when she saw that Genocide's leather coat had been destroyed and he had replaced it with the dark mist coalescing from his own spilled blood. The dark mist, swirling, grew larger and several tendrils sprouted out from it. Gracia could briefly make out a figure standing next to Genocide. A hooded figure cloaked in the same black substance. The figure stared up at her with soulless, blackened eyes which seemed to beckon her to jump from the aircraft she was standing in. Compelling her to give in to the death that plagued the earth. Genocide kneeled to his master. The Shinigami, Masataka stared down at his disciple. "You have done a great service to us. Even now the sealed god stirs in its slumber. Its...Awakening will soon be upon us. It calls out for war. It begs for famine. It longs to continue its conquest. We are the death it so desires. The death that is necessary for this civilization to grow. Use the power that I have bestowed upon you. Finish the mission as you see fit." The Shinigami vanished and Genocide stood.Genocide stared at his hands. He remembered the first killing spree. He was on a bus. It stopped. A woman got on the bus and walked to the back smiling as she passed him. Something about her eyes unnerved him. They were so bright but something dark reflected inside them. He ignored the thought and put in his headphones. In minutes he had dozed off. He jumped awake. He looked around and froze in panic. All around him, everyone had been hacked to pieces. He saw the driver, actively being stabbed by a masked assailant. The mask, painted white with black eyeholes, stared back at him. It raised a finger over where its lips would be. Even under the expressionless visage, he could feel that same smile. He ran home that morning. He went to his room to find it destroyed. His posters, his computer, his tv, everything, had been ruined. He turned around and saw a man at the end of the hallway holding a sledge hammer. "The hell you been, boy?", his stepdad sneered. The man dropped his hammer and walked closer, veins pulsing with rage. He tried to explain how his car had caught fire forcing him to walk 4 miles to the nearest bus stop, but the man's fist was faster than his words. "Boy!Answer me when I talk to you!!" the man says as he backhands the taste out of the would be Genocide's mouth. He took that beating for several minutes before being left to stare at his ransacked room. He hated how his stepdad went out of his way to destroy the things he loved. Soon, another set of footsteps could be heard. It was his mother standing behind his locked door. She didn't knock, or say anything. She just stood there, doing nothing as always. He never knew if she came to talk to him or apologize. All he knew was that she could never bring herself to speak to or even acknowledge him. Maybe out of guilt or perhaps shame. A year or two later after he had had enough he ran away from home. Living out on the streets alone, without friends, or family, he would embark on countless killing sprees. These killings weren't of his own volition however. He was coerced by some corrupt officers from The Unit. They made him kill on their behalf. Sometimes they were protesters, sometimes they were drug dealers, other times, petty criminals they couldn't be bothered to process. It was routine for him to be used to kill entire houses of drug riddled addicts. During one such venture he entered a drug den, killing the dealer as instructed. He took out several junkies before turning to leave. A woman who survived her injuries clung to his heel begging him to stop. Looking down he aimed the handgun he was carrying at her head of long disheveled brown hair and fired. Feeling nothing, he kicked her body aside like trash when it hit him. Her face. This woman had been his mother. What was she doing in a place like this? He felt a shock of emotion. He wondered if she had always been like this, or had she changed after he left. He never made amends, but decided to stop killing from then on. The unit did not like that. Once it became apparent that he was no longer of use to them they started a manhunt to apprehend him with lethal force. They found him. They killed him. But he survived.
He remembered the girl on the bus. He remembered her eyes. Those of a sadistic killer. Still there was something else inside them. Something faint but deeper. So. Much. Sadness. Just like him. He felt the hatred begin to spread. His purpose, he decided, was to make all humans rot in the hell they created for him.
These people, he thought to himself, these living diseases, all needed to die. Their struggles, their problems, they spread like cancer to others. The only cure for humanity's sin, its collective wrongdoings, was genocide.
Around him, dark tendrils continued to form and expand, spinning in a vortex. Genocide pulled out two pistols. He squeezed the triggers to no effect. "As I see fit, huh? Hehe." He squeezed both guns in his hands, breaking them into pieces. He concentrated. In his hands, two more guns materialized now completely black due to being forged from the dark essence. Forged by his will. Immune to the jamming device that shut down conventional firearms. He raised his arms at each remaining helicopter and opened fire. Countless tendrils whipped out and slashed at his targets joining the dark essence bullets. It was chaos. Dark tendrils and bullets tore through every direction as Genocide spun and swirled around in 360 degrees firing randomly with purpose. A tendril pierced Gracia's right arm, another, her abdomen. She was however, fortunate, as the other passengers of her helicopter were dismembered. She barely had time to jump from the vehicle before it crashed. She fell 2 yards onto solid concrete. She felt immense pain as her right shoulder shattered on impact. She looked up to see Genocide's blade like appendages ripping through the other escape helicopters. She rolled onto her back and tried to steady herself. Within seconds her body began to repair itself. The nanocells inside her had saved her life but were now depleted. She would need another supplement lest she receive another fatal injury. The standard nanocells she and the others had were much less potent than those of the killers they faced. In truth, they had only minimal strength boosts being able to lift 5-8 more pounds than before and healing being limited to one or two fatal injuries so long as death didn't occur instantly. Gracia blacked out. She awoke the next morning in a hospital. There the doctors refilled her nanocells. She learned that the station had been left in ruins. Genocide had detonated some type of minature nuke following his rampage. He always blew up the stations as if to send a message. Gracia looked out the window thinking about why she became a cop. Twice her family had been murdered by them. Her biological family had been killed in an on record drug raid committed by a group of corrupt officers called The Unit. She had been adopted by another officer that arrived at the scene who found her as a child hiding in a closed. Sadly, he too was killed for trying to expose the activities of The Unit. Gracia joined the force to avenge both losses and bring justice to the killers that disguised themselves as normal people. Law enforcement was neither good, nor bad. It depended upon the people that made it up. In the dying corrupt world Gracia lived in, she vowed to be a beacon of light. Evans laid in a bed adjacent to Lary. "That damn Genocide's somethin else in' he?Like the stories you told us were understatements. That man could legit not die at this point in the story. Like he has friggin plot armor or somthin.'' Evans cut him off" I get it. We all got our asses handed to us. But did you see that ..thing that appeared next to him. Right before he created that black vortex that wiped us out. That must have something to do with his power. Maybe there's a still a way to stop him."Lary chimed in," That fella looked like he was on the way to a black metal concert wit all the black facepaint he was wearin' Creeped me out to be honest." As the survivors mulled over their predicament, the cycle of evil continued to spread elsewhere.
Budley flips through the pages of a magazine. He checks his watch. He looks around the gas station and doesn't see any customers. Seizing the opportunity, he puts in his headphones and begins playing an imaginary guitar as he jams to a progressive deathcore album. Oblivious to the screams coming from outside, the store clerk moves on to thumping two candy bars on the counter to simulate drums. Budley sees that his shift has ended and begins locking up the store. He sweeps the aisles and jumps as a shadow appears behind him. He turns and sees a well groomed bearded man dressed in a black hoodie, black shirt, and black and gray camo pants. The man holds out his hand and smiles. Budley rings up the pack of nicotine substitute gum. "Tryin to kick the habit huh?" Budley asks. The man replies, "Somethin like that. Gotta get my priorities back in check. Focus on the things that really matter. That damn KonCreep's a hell of a band aren't they?" He nods to the playlist on Budley's phone. "Yeah, they're killer. just got into them a month back." Budley answers. "You know, I'm something of a musician myself. Maybe you'll hear of me on the news someday." Jim Jimenez says as he sees himself out. He walks to the back of the building and passes an ominous form of graffiti. A woman lays unmoving and above her, written on concrete in red is a message that simply says "Genocide Reigns".

My car's transmission is on the fritz, so it's in the shop and I'm working from home for at least today. Thank goodness I can even work from home, or things would be a lot more complicated. Anyways, that's just a bit of a vent. I've also decided that I might do little lore-esque prechapter bits for some extra flavor. Hope you guys enjoy them! I find them to be fun little thought experiments on how people might perceive the world I've created from within vs from my own perspective. Enjoy some crafting and some romance!
First Previous Next
We know that the spots that are caused by looking at a source of light are, in fact, damage of some sort to the eye. This is confirmed by the spots rapidly disappearing should someone be healed whilst experiencing them. But why? Is there a divinity within light, beyond what our mortal eyes can withstand? Is there some sort of invisible emanation that comes alongside the light that damages us in some way? The discovery of light damaging the eye has opened more questions for me than it has closed.
-Musings on the Relations of Light and Fire, by Jarwic Leftun
\***
Xander carefully opened the door, finding Gabrelle already asleep, and sat down on a chair. Maybe he could get that adaptive camouflage to work right on bright colors. Surely he had some colorful things in his inventory.
He did in fact have a few colorful things in his inventory, and he whiled the rest of the night away making small adjustments to the runic array that was embroidered into the cloth. He was satisfied before dawn, the cloth now performing as well with light colors as it had with darker colors. Now he just needed to make a cloak out of it. He briefly considered coating his armor with the array, but discarded it. There might be times where he’d want to be seen. Besides, a hooded cloak would better break up the outline of his figure, the ripples of fabric, especially if he were to crouch or lay prone, obscuring his outline even more. In little time at all, he had a long, deep hooded cloak of the color shifting, runed cloth in his hands. He stashed it in his inventory for now, as he had no particular need to sneak up on something right now. The rest of the time before dawn he spent silently sitting in the chair he’d chosen, trying to keep his thoughts to a minimum, just daydreaming. Night dreaming? He couldn’t sleep anymore, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to let his mind wander.
As the dawn came and the sun began to shine through the window of the room, Gabrelle slowly awoke, once more finding Xander sitting in a chair rather than in bed.
“Mmf,” She grunted as she stretched. “Morning, Xander. You got back late.”
“Morning, yourself,” Xander said, turning his head to look at Gabrelle. “Yeah... Yeah, I guess I did.”
“What were you doing, anyway?” She asked, curious. “You didn’t mention that you’d be out late, just that you were going to go to see Valteria at her shop.”
“I uh... went on a date.”
“I knew it! ‘Comparing notes’ was a date!” Gabrelle exclaimed triumphantly.
“It was not!” Xander complained. “But we went to a tavern in the evening and it sort of... turned into a date on the way there.”
“Awhh, that’s so cute,” Gabrelle said. “Did it go well? Is she nice? Did you kiss?”
“I think it went well. We talked a lot about different projects and ideas we had. I also got to meet another [Godsmarked] - he owns the tavern we went to. I think she’s nice. Maybe a little shy. I think she’s gotten used to being treated differently by people. I don’t think she really believed that I wanted to go on a date with her, at first. ...And yes. We kissed.”
“Ooooh, look at you! You’re growing up so fast!” Gabrelle teased.
“Oh hush. I’m older than you!” Xander huffed, then returned to seriousness. “But ah, if I’m going to be dating someone... we need to have a conversation, Gabrelle.”
“We need to stop sleeping together?” Gabrelle quickly deduced before Xander could say it himself.
“Yeah... It doesn’t feel right, even though it’s just platonic between us. I don’t think I would appreciate being in Valteria’s situation and knowing that the person I was seeing was sleeping with someone else at night.”
“Well, I figured this would happen eventually,” Gabrelle said. “Either you or I were bound to find someone eventually. Don’t worry, I’m not upset. Don’t get me wrong, the snuggles were nice, but like I told you a while ago, I don’t have nearly as much trouble sleeping when I’m with the team.”
“Thanks for not being upset, Gabrelle.”
“You know this means you have to start paying for your own room, though, right?”
“Ah, shit, you’re right. I forgot.”
Xander left the room to allow Gabrelle some privacy to get dressed and meandered back down the stairs to see if any other members of the team were already up. Looking around, he spied Graffus eating breakfast at at table and moved to sit with the dwarf.
“Mornin’” Graffus greeted Xander through a mouthful of bread.
“Morning,” Xander greeted back.
“Glad to see you made it back, we were wondering if you’d be out all night,” Graffus told him, after swallowing his bread.
“I was out a bit late, I suppose. I let the time get away from me.” Xander said, not really wanted to be teased again about going out on a date. “So what are you planning to do today?”
“Bah, Frazay has roped me into helping her do research for the drakeling. So reading is what’s in store for me.” Graffus tore himself off another piece of bread from his plate and slathered it with jam. “You going to be going back to that [Tinker] you’ve been spending time with lately?”
“Yeah, that’s the plan. I’m supposed to learn more about converting mana types today, and also help her fix the suit of armor that I wrecked.”
“Welp,” Graffus said, now on his last piece of bread, “I hope ya learn something new. Never had much to do with [Tinker]s – not saying I dislike them, just that I haven’t had much experience with them – so it don’t make much sense to me. Using a hammer is about the only overlap in our professions.”
“I think your hammer is significantly larger than the one most [Tinker]s would use,” Xander chuckled. Thinking about what he should be doing before he headed to Valteria’s, he asked Graffus, “Hey, I might need to buy some monster parts or elemental cores, something like that, for practice. You know where I would go to find stuff like that?”
Graffus shrugged. “Dunno. My guess would be an alchemy and reagents shop. That’s generally what we’ve sold monster parts to that didn’t go to a smith or leatherworker.”
“Thanks, Graffus.”
The two of them chatted for a while longer, catching up on what each other had been doing. Graffus excused himself to finish getting ready for the day, saying he needed to tend to his beard, leaving Xander downstairs. Deciding to be productive and proactive, Xander stood as well and headed out of the inn to find an alchemy shop.
It wasn’t long before he found one, a familiar scene of an eclectic collection of powders, liquids, crystals, and strange organic things floating in jars inside the building. The proprietor was a dwarf, seated at a workbench. They were grinding something into a powder as Xander entered. He received a distracted greeting before the dwarf returned to his work.
Xander wandered about the shop for a few minutes, looking at the various materials throughout the shop. He identified what he thought might be an elemental core, a jagged piece of crystal looking material that seemed to have an inner flame. As for the monster parts in jars, Xander had no idea what was what. He finally felt he’d waited long enough and moved closer to the worktable that the dwarf was still sitting at, working away at the mortar and pestle.
“Excuse me,” Xander said, grabbing the shopkeep’s attention.
“Mm?” The dwarf said questioningly. “Can I help you find something?”
“I was wondering if you had any elemental cores. Something small, I just need one to practice with.”
“Aye, I’ve a few of them around the shop. You want something to practice with? So a relatively weak core, then – not all the small ones are weak. Do you need any particular type?” The dwarf stood up and stretched, moving to one of the shelves.
“Uhm no, just whatever is cost effective, I suppose.”
The alchemist rifled through the various bits and bobs on one of the shelves nearby before producing a small chip of what looked to be a semi-translucent stone. It was tinged slightly yellow with streaks of white. “This here is a chip off a lightning attuned core. Pretty weak, but it does still produce mana.”
Xander could see the dwarf’s arm hair standing up as if from static electicity as he held up the stone. “How much?” He asked.
“Twenty gold.”
Xander shrugged. Twenty gold wasn’t an issue for him anymore, and he didn’t feel like haggling. He always hated haggling. “Sure.” He fished out the coin and handed it over to the dwarf.
The dwarf handed over the stone to Xander and the pop of a static electric shock could be heard as a tiny arc passed between the two of them. The dwarf grunted and shook his hand. “Thanks for the business,” he told Xander. “Anything else you find yourself in need of?”
“Not at the moment, but thanks for asking.” Xander waved goodbye to the dwarf and pocketed the tiny elemental core. He continued down the street in the direction of Valteria’s shop, thinking about how he was going to undo the welding job he’d done on Valteria’s armor. He’d need her to guide his repair efforts.
Xander returned to the inn momentarily to grab one of his golems. He settled on Atlas for now, as it was the most basic of the humanoid forms he’d created. No extra arms or weird feet on him, no sir.
Arriving at the building that contained Valteria’s home and shop, Xander knocked before opening the door. “Morning,” he called out.
“Xander! Hello!” Valteria called out. She was at the same work bench she’d been at yesterday. Jarrett didn’t seem to be in the shop at the moment, as Xander wasn’t able to spot the man.
Commanding Atlas to follow him in and closing the door behind him, Xander started walking towards Valteria. “How’s it going?” He asked.
“Good, it’s going good,” Valteria responded as Xander brought a stool over to her workbench. “How about yourself?”
“Not bad. The upside of not sleeping is that I never struggle in the mornings now. I used to hate waking up.” Xander laughed. “I even ran an errand before I came here! Picked up this.” Xander fished around in his pocket until he found the small chip of elemental core and held it up for Valteria to see.
“Core?” She asked distractedly, staring at Atlas. She tore her eyes away and looked closely at the small crystalline stone. “Lightning attuned?”
“That’s what the [Alchemist] at the shop said,” Xander affirmed. “Said it was a very weak one, but that it did still produce mana.”
“Mmm, a good practice piece, then.”
“I thought it would be, too. Not that I know what to do with it, yet.”
“Well, how about this: I teach you to set the stone and make some conduit, and then you can help me fix my armor. All the glue has turned to dust by now, thank the gods.”
“Sounds fair enough. So, how do mana conduits work?”
“Well, the concept is simple enough. It’s a tube which conducts mana,” Valteria began to explain.
“Mmhm.” Xander nodded along.
“What you need is a setting – usually of silver, as it has good mana conductivity – which will be the first step of conduction, taking the mana from the stone. Simply wrapping the core in silver wire can work well enough, drawing in the mana that the core puts out through its surface, but for a more effecient setting, small holes are usually drilled into the core to set the wire into as well, giving more surface area to draw from.”
“So we care about the mana conductivity of the material, then? That makes sense, I just hadn’t thought about it. I actually did a little experiment with my rune work to test which fillings were the most conductive.”
“Oh really?” Valteria said, interested. “What were your results?”
“Well, gold and silver were high up there in conductivity, and probably make the most sense for someone who has to physically manipulate material without use of a skill – both for a core setting and for inlaying a rune – but I did find that sapphires and rubies were even more efficient at transferring mana than gold and silver.”
“Mmm... interesting. I’ve heard of gemstones being used in very high-grade settings, as well as various other exotic materials. I read an account of one [Mechanist] who used tubes of mercury to conduct mana, though the relative effectiveness compared to silver wasn’t mentioned.” Valteria cleared her throat. “Uhm, now, where was I? Right, basic settings. Once you have your core – or monster organ, if you’re going that route – you connect it to the conduit. Usually, this is also silver wiring. I like to braid several smaller wires together, personally. I find it to be sturdier and hold up to flexing better. From there, it needs to be tied into a device. Which is a topic for tomorrow.” Looking around the shop, Valteria seemed to identify something on one of the shelves nearby. “I have a core that you could watch me set, and then you could try setting your own, if you’d like.”
“That sounds good to me,” Xander said. “I always love to see a master as work,” he added, opting for a little flattery.
“Follow me, then.” Valteria said, standing up from her stool and waving for Xander to follow.
Xander followed Valteria as she walked over to the shelf she’d been looking at earlier and took a palm sized, bright green stone from it. “Nature attuned core,” She explained, holding it for Xander to see. “I’m told it was taken from some kind of moving tree.” Valteria then moved to another worktable, on which were several of what looked to be drill bits to Xander. There was also an apparatus that look like it was designed to hold the bits, which was confirmed for him when Valteria slotted one of the small drill heads into the device. “This thing,” Valteria said, waving the drill a little bit, “is a life saver. I used to have to drill holes with a hand cranked one. Worth every single coin I paid for it to get an enchanted one.” She turned a dial on one side of the handheld device, which Xander was coming to think of as a magic dremel tool, and it began to come to life, the drill bit beginning to spin with a quiet whirring sound.
“Neat.” Xander commented. He watched patiently as Valteria drilled a series of shallow holes in the stone, the distinct screeching of metal on stone echoing through the shop floor. “So where’s Jarrett today?” He asked.
“Oh, he has the day off today. He asked for it about a week ago, not sure what for, though,” Valteria said distractedly. Soon she was finished with the holes she was drilling into the core, and moved to another workbench. “Now we create a setting for the core. This is a fairly simple way of doing it, mind you, but it is effective.”
Xander watched as she took sections of pre-braided silver wire and fitted the ends into the holes she had drilled. Once each hole was filled with a section of wire, Valteria began to pull wire from a spool, wrapping the stone until it was completely covered with silver wire and binding the braided sections to the stone in the process. “There,” she said, setting the stone down on the workbench. “A perfectly serviceable setting."
“So, if I understand correctly, you coat the core in a mana conductive material – the more surface area, the better, hence the holes – to create a setting?”
“Mmhmm,” Valteria said, nodding.
“Seems fairly straighforward. And then you connect the silver wiring that’s wrapped around it to more wiring, and attach that to your device? Why the distance? Why not just connect the setting directly to the device?”
“You absolutely can, if space isn’t an issue. Technically, the connection between the mana battery and the device, even if it’s just a single point with no distance, is still referred to as a conduit, though, so it’s considered a three part creation.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Do you want to try making your own, now? I don’t mind lending you a little wire.”
“Sure, but I should be good on material, I can produce it with my skills. Doesn’t last without a source of mana, but I guess the core itself might provide enough. Think this little chip is a bit small to put holes in, though.”
Xander looked at the small piece of crystal in his hand. If he just need as much contact as possible with a mana conductive material, his best bet would be to embed it into a sapphire or ruby. He decided on ruby, for no particular reason. Still holding the chip of core in his hand, he concentrated on his [Creation] ability. Valteria watched, amazed, as a ruby began to take form and grow around the piece of core until it was completely coated in a thin layer of gemstone.
“So, you can just... make things?” Valteria asked, sounding jealous.
“Well, it costs mana, and anything I make that isn’t provided a source of mana that leaves my person disintegrates in a day, but, yes. I can just make things with my skills. But,” he added, cutting off Valteria’s complaint of unfairness, “I have never received a skill that actually lets me improve a material. Sure, I have runes, which generally makes up the difference, but I don’t have any skills that improve the things I make. So, if you made a mana battery, and I made a mana battery the same way with identical materials, yours is going to be better, I assume, because you have skills that passively improve the things that you make, am I right?”
“Okayyy,” Valteria huffed. “I guess that does make it a little less unfair. But ugh! It would be so nice not having to source materials.” She looked at the ruby with a piece of core set inside it that Xander had made. “Well, I guess that about does it for making a setting... I thought it might have taken you longer to make one. I guess we can move on to fixing my armor even sooner! It’ll be nice to have it up and moving again.”
“Sure, sure, we can do that. Where is it, anyway?” Xander asked, looking around the shop again like he somehow would have missed the eight foot tall suit of armor.
“It’s in a shed behind the house,” Valteria explained. “I have it on a hoist so I can work on it.”
“Ah, that would explain why I haven’t seen it around.”
Exiting the shop, stopping for Valteria to put a small ‘closed’ sign on the door, the two of them made their way around the building, where Xander saw the small shed that presumably held Valteria’s armor. It looked like it could just barely hold the armor and one person – two, if they were comfortable with each other – inside it.
“So this is where the magic happens?” Xander asked.
“If by ‘magic’ you mean maintenance and upgrades, then yes,” Valteria agreed. She opened the door of the shed, which comprised most of the front of the tiny little building, revealing her suit of armor, which was currently hanging from several chains attached to pulleys on the ceiling. Plates of armor were laying strewn about the suite, leaving the joints and inner workings more exposed.
Xander whistled, looking at the inner workings of the suit. He could see gears, cogs, and joints, and throughout the entirety of the armor were running filaments of silver wire, which he assumed were mana conduits running to and from elemental cores and the various mana powered aspects of the suit. “This thing really is impressive. Almost as impressive as the woman who made it,” he said.
Valteria giggled, “Stop it! You’re supposed to be fixing this mess, not flirting with me!”
“Awh, can’t I do both?” Xander asked, trying to sound as saccharine as possible.
“Mmm, I suppose that if you are sufficiently skilled at multitasking, I might allow it,” Valteria said in a mockingly thoughtful tone.
“Well, I just so happen to be an expert, so flirt away I shall,” Xander replied. “Now, how about the beauty in front of me shows me exactly where the other beauty in front of me needs some repairs?”
Valteria sighed at Xander’s antics, but he could see the slight flush in her face. “Well, you welded the wrist joints, elbows, and knees. They aren’t welded all the way round, it’s more like you smoothed over a portion of it like it was wet clay. So if you could just... put it back? Shape it back to how it was, that’s should be all that’s needed.”
“Pretty straightforward,” Xander said, standing behind Valteria as she pointed out each joint. He could see the misshapen parts where he’d slapped a weld onto the metal. He leaned over her and put his hands on the elbow joint that they were closest to and began to shape the metal back to its original form.
“You’re... very close,” Valteria murmured to him as he formed the metal.
“Would you like me not to be?” He asked, carefully.
Valteria was silent for a moment before answering, “No...” quietly.
Xander carefully shifted to be a little closer, but still not quite touching, as he moved on to the wrist joint of the same arm. The process itself was simple, but he was enjoying taking his time. As he finished the wrist, he turned to look at Valteria. He found himself looking right into her eyes, as she was staring back at him. Unable to resist the temptation he leaned in a little closer, gauging Valteria’s reaction. When she, too, leaned towards him, he closed the small gap between them, drawing her into another kiss. Valteria pressed herself against him, the shed hiding them from any prying eyes on the street, and let out a small noise as Xander squeezed her tight. She was breathing a little bit harder than before the kiss as they separated again.
Valteria let out a breath. “You’re… a really good kisser.”
“Yeah?” Xander said, pleased with himself. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“And you’re a tease, looming over me like that in this tiny little shed,” Valteria continued. “Now you’ve got me all flustered, how am I supposed to work now?” She mock complained.
Xander was glad to see that Valteria was comfortable enough with him to joke like that. “Forgive me,” he said formally, making a deep bow, “How ever can I make it up to the lady?”
“Oh stop it, I will tolerate no bowing and scraping, even in jest,” Valteria said, slapping him lightly on the shoulder, as he was still holding the bow. “You can make it up to me by fixing the rest of these joints! And by taking me out to dinner?” She added, hopefully.
“I think that can be arranged,” Xander said. “Is there anywhere you have in mind? I will admit, I haven’t become very familiar with the local restaurant scene, what with my… dietary restrictions.”
“It doesn’t… make you feel bad to go out to a restaurant, does it?” Valteria asked softly, watching his face for a reaction.
“Nah, don’t worry,” Xander said, waving off the question with one hand. “It doesn’t bother me too much. Sure, I miss the taste of a good cut of steak, but I was never that into food. Eating was more of a thing I did because I had to, so I’m not completely devastated by the loss. And I can still get some vicarious enjoyment out of watching someone else enjoy their food. Really the worst part is awkwardly having to refuse ordering anything,” he said with a laugh.
“Alright, if you say so,” Valteria said, letting out a slight breath of relief. “I was just worried that it might be upsetting to you, is all. I know I would miss eating.” She paused for a moment, something clearly on her mind. “What do you miss? If you don’t mind my asking. I just… well, I’m curious what it’s like for you.”
“Mmm, in a lot of ways, life is still the same, and in other ways, I’m technically doing better than I was before. I’m incredibly resistant to damage now, even without my armor. I do miss sleeping, though. I try to give my mind a rest and just sort of daydream and let my thoughts wander or do some meditation during the nights, but it’s just not the same. Also means I’m the one that pulls guard duty through the night,” he grumbled. “Let’s see, what else, what else. Ah, right. I can’t smell anything. Or taste. I haven’t worked out how to recreate those senses, yet. Though no sense of smell can be handy sometimes, I suppose. I don’t know if you’ve done much merc work – you mentioned being surprised that I’m not just moonlighting – but uh… the smells that you encounter on a battlefield are… unpleasant. To say the least. It was weird not having a sense of touch either, but I’ve resolved that. It’s a little bit different than my previous, natural sense of touch, but I’ve become accustomed to it to the point that I don’t much think about the difference anymore. I think I’ve even got the density of receptors down in certain areas compared to others, so I'm more sensitive in some areas than others now, just like I used to be. I’m still immune to being tickled though, so don’t even think about it – that’s a fight you’ll lose.” Growing a bit more somber, Xander continued on. “I think… the biggest thing I miss is just the feeling that I fit in more. Now I always worry about being different, there’s that nagging fear that anyone I get to know well is going to reject me once they find out what I am. Like I’m secretly lying to everyone around me with this façade I have going on.”
Valteria nodded sadly. “I get that. I’ve been… rejected before, too. At least it happens or not right from the beginning for me. I get to know if they look down on me for being different immediately instead of fearing they might later down the road.”
“Yeah,” Xander said. “People can really suck sometimes. But at least I can just, like, not tell people what I am if I so chose. You, my teammates, and the guild, since it’s on my status sheet, are really the only people who know. I keep it pretty private. You can’t do that, so I think you probably have to deal with a lot worse than I do. Not that I’d want you to hide what or who you are,” he added. “I happen to be quite enamored with who you are,” he said, teasing a smile from Valteria’s sad face.
“Sorry to bring up such a dour topic,” Valteria apologized. “I didn’t think much on it before I asked.”
“No worries,” Xander told her. “Honestly, I think it’s good to be able to talk about it with someone. It’s healthy to be able to get you feelings out there. And it helps that I feel like you understand where I’m coming from with it, though from a slightly different perspective.”
“You’re surprisingly thoughtful sometimes,” Valteria said, only half teasing.
“Only sometimes?” Xander asked with a faux expression of hurt on his face. “By the way, you didn’t react much to my comment about moonlighting as a merc. Do you ever go on contracts?”
Valteria shrugged. “I certainly wouldn’t describe myself as a professional mercenary. Moonlighter is an apt descriptor, for me, I think. I have gone on a couple, here and there, mostly on kill contracts that would net me a core or organ that would be useful for my work.”
“Mm, that makes sense. I suppose it could be handy having access to the ability to take contracts that would give you access to specialty materials,” Xander said.
“It’s also good for business,” Valteria explained. “Mercs tend to like to buy from someone who has at least been out on a contract or two before.”
“Ah, that makes sense. What kind of things do you sell to mercenaries, anyways? I saw Jarrett with a crossbow yesterday, but I imagine you make other things, too.”
“Oh all kinds of little things. Portable, flameless heaters for cooking. Water purification sieves. Mm, let’s see… I’ve made a few custom order devices, too. One customer wanted to be able to shoot a jet of flame from their gauntlet, that was a fun one.”
“Ooh, that does sound fun… reminds me of my flamethrower.”
“Your flamethrower?”
“Yeah, it’s basically a big tank with a hose attached to it. At the end of the hose is a pump that causes the flammable liquid – I use dragon’s tar – to shoot out. Add a flame that the tar passes over and bam! You’ve got a giant stream of flame that will coat anything it hits with sticky, flammable tar,” Xander said, excitedly describing the device.
“That’s… impressive. And kind of horrifying,” Valteria responded.
“Mm… I guess you’re right. I mostly use it on giant spiders. Blugh,” Xander shuddered. “But yeah, I suppose it’s not the nicest of ways to go. Very effective for area denial, though. Ah, actually I have an idea for crossbow bolt head that would ignite when it shatters! We should make that sometime and see if it sells.”
“Hmm, I think that would draw some buyers. A flaming bolt head you didn’t have to light first could be desirable to certain buyers.”
“Put that on the list and we’ll get around to it sometime.”
“We have a list?” Valteria said confusedly.
“We should!” Xander said with a laugh. “Now let’s get the rest of these joints done.”
The repair of the other arm and the leg joints that Xander had locked into position during the tournament was a short affair. Looking over the bare metal frame of the armor still hanging from the ceiling, Xander clapped his hands together, mimicking dusting them off. “Good as new!” He exclaimed. Looking over to Valteria he asked concernedly, “It is good as new, right?”
Valteria had been staring at the armor as well, lost in thought about how she was going to improve it next. “Hmm? Oh, yes. It’s right as rain again, ready for use. Thank you, by the way. For fixing it,” She said awkwardly.
“Well I’m the one who broke it, so it’s only fair that I fix it. So what do you want to work on next?” Xander asked. “I could do some rune work for you. Orrr… we could kiss some more?”
Valteria flushed at the question, but didn’t immediately say no.
A few minutes later, she found herself on her tip toes and lightly pressed against the interior wall of the shed, her lips pressed against Xanders.
Once the two of them were done acting like teenagers parked in a secluded parking lot, they made their way back into the shop. Stepping inside and closing the door behind them, Valteria let out a breath. “I think… you are going to have to do a lot of rune work to make up for how much you just kissed me, Xander.”
“What, you didn’t like it?” He said with a raised eyebrow.
“I didn’t say that,” Valteria said with a smirk.

Hi everyone! I'm currently looking for any feedback on the first chapter of my short novel, which has just reached the second draft stage. It's about the main character being forced into eliminating the heads of an island conquered by vampires. The title is referencing a blood moon which remains present only on the island, always draping it in darkness and making it perfect for its inhabitants. I see it as a gothic Suicide Squad with less characters.
Thanks!
The chateau remarked itself as the jewel of the street.
The building rose above its accompanying homes, two stories larger than its nearest neighbours. A grand display of the original owner’s wealth, it now belonged to the vampires, like the rest of Prache. Looking down the street, Hitchforth recognised it from afar, his target for tonight’s mission. He watched stylish vampires enter through the front gate, greeted by ushers at the entrance, checking their invitations. Checking the inner pocket of his greatcoat, he searched for the invitation given to him, satisfied it was there. Hitchforth looked to his left and saw the rookie’s for tonight’s mission checking for his invitation. The rookie searched throughout his body, appearing to have lost the card, but found it before Hitchforth could scold him, offering it to his Educator.
The rookies they gave him rarely survived his missions. Sometimes he thought they were sent as a punishment, a test to see if they could survive. In his old age he had seen countless rookies, forgetting countless names and faces. This one beside him seemed nervous, adjusting his collar, wiping the sweat from his brow, avoiding eye contact with Hitchforth. This one might as well have been sentenced to an execution. What was his name? Anton? Arthur? It wouldn’t matter in the end, but the rookie’s nervousness could jeopardise the mission entirely.
“Tell me,” he said, seriousness in his tone. “Are you afraid of me or the vampires?”
The rookie fidgeted with his fingers before responding, wiping his brow from the new sweat that dripped. “B-b-both, sir.”
“Breathe. Fill your lungs and empty them. Like this.” Hitchforth demonstrated for the rookie, taking extra care to show the slow speed of the action.
The rookie did as instructed, inhaling and exhaling deeply.
“It helps?” Hitchforth asked.
“Yes sir,” the words spoken with more clarity and calmness.
“Good, let’s go into the lion’s den then.”

They approached the front entrance, lining up to be ushered in. Carmilla’s festivity had attracted the richest of Prache’s vampires, adorned in foreign jewels and extravagant clothing. The rookie almost slipped on an exceptionally long dress, caught by the cuff by Hitchforth. Looking behind him, he saw the fury in their red eyes, that Humanity’s Hope had been invited. Reaching the usher, Hitchforth handed his and the rookie’s invitations, inspecting the vampire’s face. The slightest twinge of shock showed on his face, but was quickly concealed with a stern, professional demeanour. He waved them both in, shooting a questioning glance as they passed by.
The building appeared larger inside than it was outside, if possible. The minimal red torches fitted on sconces and the amount of vampires fitted into the building helped accentuate its size. A sea of suits and dresses spread throughout its floor, different colours and materials shining in the ambient light. Imported marble made up the floor, dark and white tiles patterned intricately. Large windows draped by exotic curtains furnished the walls throughout the building, paintings spread in between the spaces. Hitchforth could just make out the paintings as portraits, the closest to him being a group of five vampires.
What surprised Hitchforth the most was the sounds that filled his ears. Music played by a orchestra filled the building with the sounds of strings, woodwinds, percussion and brass sections. Pushing past the crowd that had congregated near the front entrance, Hitchforth saw dancing. Vampires dancing in line with their partners to the music, alternating between partners, spinning with arms outstretched.
Behind the dance floor a grand staircase rose from the floor, providing access to the two other stories of the building. It was there that Hitchforth saw the target for tonight’s mission come down the stairs, stopping high enough to be seen, but low enough to be heard. Immediately the orchestra ceased its playing, the dancers also ceasing their dancing. The congregation around the entrance strode to the dance floor, taking Hitchforth and the rookie with them, waiting for her words.
She was tall and deathly beautiful, more civilised and confident than the others. She wore a dark crimson dress, accenting her red eyes and slender face. Her moonlight coloured hair draped straight down past her shoulders, shining despite the lack of light. Her red lips parted into a savage smile, displaying the pointed canines she shared with every member of her race. Hitchforth noticed she looked directly at him, her eyes sizing him as a lion would to its prey. Carmilla Sanguine had arrived.
She spoke to the guests, keeping her eyes on Hitchforth. “Welcome all, to the festivities of tonight. I hold today’s ball as a celebration of our independence as a species, our freedom from humanity.” The guests cheered at the words, delighted at the words. “And please give our warm Prache hospitality to our sanctioned guests of Humanity’s Hope, who have joined us.”
The vampires did not cheer at those words, hushing and hissing silently as they turned to see Hitchforth and the rookie. It was easy to find them, both wearing their issued dark green greatcoats. Hitchforth had refused formal attire for the event for himself and his rookie, knowing they would stand out regardless.
“Enjoy your time tonight and as always, long live our king.”
“Long live our king,” the crowd shouted out in unison, mirroring Carmilla’s words.
Carmilla stepped down the stairs, her guests returning to conversation and dancing. She mingled with her guests, leaving Hitchforth and the rookie alone.
“Sir, what now?” the rookie asked.
“She will come to us, she can’t help herself,” Hitchforth said whilst looking over her watching her conversations. From a distance he could still see the power she held, the fear in the faces of the vampires she held conversations with. From what he had been told, the heads of Prache kept to themselves mostly, only communicating when necessary. The mission would not be hindered by reinforcements, or so he had been told.
Carmilla made her way over to where Hitchforth and the rookie stood, flanked by two bodyguards in suits. She looked over the rookie, smiling and looking into his eyes. Hitchforth saw the rookie smile back, his nervousness gone. Already her mind games had begun.
“Hello, Carmilla,” he said, breaking her eye contact with the rookie.
“Greetings, Educator Hitchforth. And who might this be here?”
“My rookie. You know my name?” Carmilla had come closer to the rookie, stroking his cheek with her hand as Hitchforth spoke. Hitchforth saw the sharp nails on her hand, softly grazing the rookie’s skin.
“Isn’t fresh blood the best? We don’t get a lot of humans here, I’m sure you know.” Carmilla moved her hand away, turning and answering the Educator. “Of course, who doesn’t know the only Lycan Educator in Humanity’s Hope? I’m sure everyone here has smelt it already.”
“Fair enough. Can we talk in a more…,” Hitchforth looked around, noticing most of the guests were paying attention to their conversation. “Private place?”
“Of course, Educator. Allow me to lead the way,” she said, taking hold of the rookie’s hand and walking ahead. Hitchforth stared at him from behind to let go yet he continued, unable to escape her trance. Playing along, he followed Carmilla up the stairs, leaving behind the vampires to dance and socialise below.

Carmilla lead Hitchforth and the rookie up the stairs to the second floor, passing through multiple hallways and doors to reach their destination. The building’s halls and rooms seemed to continue endlessly, doors leading to more doors and longer hallways. They walked down a long staircase, perhaps made for the servants of the building. They walked through a large hallway containing Carmilla’s thralls, lined up against the wall, saluting as she passed. Eventually they reached a cold room with a large table in the centre with a fireplace emitting red flames. Red ash was a new invention created since the vampires had conquered Prache, a harmless light source for their needs. They had invested heavily into the island as their home and Hitchforth knew they would not give it up easily. Looking above the mantle place, Hitchforth noticed the familiar painting from the ballroom.
All the five vampires matched the descriptions he was told, to the point he could recognise them all. At the forefront sat Harrow Sanguine, the self-appointed king of Prache. He looked younger than the rest of his family, his ashen skin painted flawlessly. His fierce eyes stared back into Hitchforth, instilling fear from even his heart. To his right stood his wife, Rose Sanguine, who bore a strong resemblance to Carmilla, matching hair and all. To the king’s left stood Varney Sanguine, wearing his familiar grey suit and matching brown flat cap. Standing next to Varney was Father Nostra, the religious leader of Prache, wearing his black cassock. Finally, standing next to her mother was Carmilla Sanguine, identical to her real life presence.
“Where are we?” Hitchforth asked.
“A meeting room under the chateau. We won’t be disturbed here.”
“And your guests? They won’t be afraid you’ve gone missing?”
Carmilla laughed. “Those fools will be too blood drunk in the morning to remember their past few days. Our meeting will be fine.” She ordered her guards out of the room, instructing them to stay outside, just in case. “The guards will be waiting outside,” she said, warning in her tone.
“What do you want?”
“When my father sanctioned a member of Humanity’s Hope to visit the island, I was surprised they chose you.”
Hitchforth shrugged. “I’m expendable.”
“Yes, they do see you in that way, and that may be so. But I see more.”
Hitchforth furrowed his eyebrows. “Like what?”
“I see opportunity. I see power. I see a new path.”
“Care to explain?”
“You are the only Educator that is not human. On Prache we can give you freedom, like we have achieved.”
Hitchforth thought over what Carmilla said, processing her words. She had to have been desperate to separate him from any prying eyes, eager to keep her plans secret. The only choice was to continue.
“I see. They say a hand that lends help is matched by a hand that waits repayment. What is the repayment you seek from me?”
Carmilla smiled more than she had before, looking more unnatural than she ever had before. Her smile outstretched to the corners of her face and Hitchforth thought he saw her eyes darken lustfully. Not lust for blood, but lust for power. “The crown. With my connections and Humanity’s Hope, we can topple my father’s regime. He is outdated, out of touch with the population’s desires and needs. I can give it to them.”
Hitchforth scoffed at the words. “And you believe Humanity’s Hope is willing to partner with a vampire?”
“They partnered with you didn’t they? I see no difference.”
“I have no partnership. Something much worse.”
“It doesn’t matter. My father is eager to enact revenge for the prosecution vampires have felt for millennia. I am willing to move on.”
Hitchforth looked to the rookie, who had remained silent throughout the conversation. He sweated through his coat, leaving visible stains. The trance Carmilla had put him through had broken, putting her attention to Hitchforth. He could feel the slight strings pulling him in the direction she wanted, appealing to his emotions and desires. He considered over her terms, it made sense to accept the deal. Why would he protect his captors? His mind travelled elsewhere, to a farmhouse and her tending to her flower garden. He thought of her smile, and the little one that accompanied her.
“Do we have a deal? You have no choice either way, Educator,” Carmilla said, snapping Hitchforth back to reality.
He looked to his rookie, signalling under the table to warn him. Hitchforth saw him nod subtly, trying not to give away the motion.
“No,” Hitchforth said, raising the table above his head, smashing it into Carmilla’s body, sending her flying.

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relatively, relax, release, relevant, relief, religion, religious, rely, remain, remaining, remarkable, remember, remind, remote, remove, repeat, repeatedly, replace, replacement, reply, report, reporter, represent, representation, representative, Republican, reputation, request, require, requirement, research, researcher, resemble, reservation, resident, residential, resign, resist, resistance, resolution, resolve, resort, resource, respect, respond, response, responsibility, responsible, rest, restaurant, restore, restriction, result, retain, retire, retirement, return, reveal, revenue, review, revolution, rhythm, rice, rich, rid, ride, rifle, right, ring, rise, risk, river, road, rock, role, roll, romantic, roof, room, root, rope, rose, rough, roughly, round, route, routine, row, rub, rubber, rude, ruin, rule, run, running, rural, rush, Russian, sacred, sad, safe, safety, sake, salad, salary, sale, sales, salt, same, sample, sanction, sand, satellite, satisfaction, satisfied, satisfy, sauce, save, saving, say, scale, scandal, scare, scatter, scenario, scene, schedule, scheme, scholar, scholarship, school, science, scientific, scientist, scope, score, scream, screen, script, sea, search, season, seat, second, secondary, secret, secretary, section, sector, secure, security, see, seed, seek, seem, segment, seize, select, selection, self, sell, Senate, senator, send, senior, sense, sensitive, sentence, separate, sequence, series, serious, seriously, servant, serve, service, session, set, setting, settle, settlement, seven, several, severe, sex, sexual, shade, shadow, shake, shall, shallow, shape, share, sharp, she, sheet, shelf, shell, shelter, shift, shine, ship, shirt, shock, shoe, shoot, shooting, shop, shopping, short, shortly, shot, should, shoulder, shout, show, shower, shrug, shut, shy, sibling, sick, side, sigh, sight, sign, signal, significant, significantly, silence, silent, silver, similar, similarly, simple, simply, sin, since, sing, singer, single, sink, sir, sister, sit, site, situation, six, size, ski, skill, skin, skirt, sky, slave, sleep, slice, slide, slight, slightly, slip, slow, slowly, small, smart, smell, smile, smoke, smooth, snap, snow, so, so-called, soccer, social, society, soft, software, soil, solar, soldier, sole, solid, solution, solve, some, somebody, somehow, someone, something, sometimes, somewhat, somewhere, son, song, soon, sophisticated, sorry, sort, soul, sound, soup, source, south, southern, Soviet, space, Spanish, speak, speaker, special, specialist, species, specific, specifically, specify, speech, speed, spend, spending, spin, spirit, spiritual, split, spoil, sponsor, sport, spot, spray, spread, spring, square, squeeze, stability, stable, staff, stage, stain, stair, stake, stand, standard, standing, star, stare, start, state, statement, station, statistical, status, stay, steady, steal, steel, steep, stem, step, stick, still, stimulate, stimulus, stir, stock, stomach, stone, stop, storage, store, storm, story, straight, strange, stranger, strategic, strategy, stream, street, strength, strengthen, stress, stretch, strike, string, strip, stroke, strong, strongly, structural, structure, struggle, student, studio, study, stuff, stupid, style, subject, submit, subsequent, substance, substantial, substitute, succeed, success, successful, successfully, such, sudden, suddenly, sue, suffer, sufficient, sugar, suggest, suggestion, suicide, suit, summer, summit, sun, super, supply, support, supporter, suppose, supposed, Supreme, sure, surely, surface, surgery, surprise, surprised, surprising, surprisingly, surround, survey, survival, survive, survivor, suspect, sustain, swear, sweep, sweet, swim, swing, switch, symbol, symptom, system, table, tactic, tail, take, tale, talent, talk, tall, tank, tap, tape, target, task, taste, tax, taxi, tea, teach, teacher, teaching, team, tear, technical, technique, technology, teen, teenager, telephone, telescope, television, tell, temperature, temporary, ten, tend, tendency, tennis, tension, tent, term, terms, terrible, territory, terror, terrorist, test, testimony, testing, text, than, thank, thanks, that, the, theater, their, them, theme, themselves, then, theory, therapy, there, therefore, these, they, thick, thin, thing, think, thinking, third, thirty, this, those, though, thought, thousand, threat, threaten, three, throat, through, throughout, throw, thus, ticket, tie, tight, time, tiny, tip, tire, tissue, title, to, tobacco, today, toe, together, toilet, token, tolerate, tomato, tomorrow, tone, tongue, tonight, too, tool, tooth, top, topic, toss, total, totally, touch, tough, tour, tourist, tournament, toward, towards, tower, town, toy, trace, track, trade, tradition, traditional, traffic, tragedy, trail, train, training, transfer, transform, transformation, transition, translate, translation, transmission, transmit, transport, transportation, travel, treat, treatment, treaty, tree, tremendous, trend, trial, tribe, trick, trip, troop, trouble, truck, true, truly, trust, truth, try, tube, tunnel, turn, TV, twelve, twenty, twice, twin, two, type, typical, typically, ugly, ultimate, ultimately, unable, uncle, undergo, understand, understanding, unfortunately, uniform, union, unique, unit, United, universal, universe, university, unknown, unless, unlike, until, unusual, up, upon, upper, urban, urge, us, use, used, useful, user, usual, usually, utility, utilize, vacation, valley, valuable, value, variable, variation, variety, various, vary, vast, vegetable, vehicle, venture, version, versus, very, vessel, veteran, via, victim, victory, video, view, viewer, village, violate, violation, violence, violent, virtually, virtue, virus, visibility, visible, vision, visit, visitor, visual, vital, voice, volume, voluntary, volunteer, vote, voter, voting, wage, wait, wake, walk, wall, wander, want, war, warm, warn, warning, wash, waste, watch, water, wave, way, we, weak, weakness, wealth, wealthy, weapon, wear, weather, web, website, wedding, week, weekend, weekly, weigh, weight, welcome, welfare, well, west, western, wet, what, whatever, wheel, when, whenever, where, whereas, whether, which, while, whisper, white, who, whole, whom, whose, why, wide, widely, widespread, wife, wild, wildlife, will, willing, win, wind, window, wine, wing, winner, winter, wipe, wire, wisdom, wise, wish, with, withdraw, within, without, witness, woman, wonder, wonderful, wood, wooden, word, work, worker, working, workout, workplace, works, workshop, world, worried, worry, worth, would, wound, wrap, write, writer, writing, wrong, yard, yeah, year, yell, yellow, yes, yesterday, yet, yield, you, young, your, yours, yourself, youth, zone.

This is set in a world in which some people have begun to develop super powers. A small portion of them. They can range from the mundane to the extraordinary, and sometimes fall into the wrong hands. Your typical capital city, talks buildings and museums, cafes, flower shops. You name it it’s probably there and probably been made into a tourist attraction!
My character is colby. She’s 26 and spent the majority of the beginning of her life in and out of care. Her power involving the ability to make people see things she wants them too… naturally this can be more of a problem. She’s about 5ft 11 and has a fairly average build. Bright red hair that’s frequently in pigtails and a distinct… brightness. Seriously you can’t miss her she dresses like a rainbow threw up on her… She’s… definitely enthusiastic. About everything… and actually really likes people. People just don’t like her so much…
So on a mainly night after your character gets thrown out of a bar, when she bumps into you, trying to rob you…. Well… let’s see how it goes.
Your character can be any gender, have super powers or no. Tell me about them, are they on the hero spectrum. Or the opposite side? Are they just a random person who’s just bumped into this crazy lady.
I am open to all forms of world development.and love to create with a partner! So feel free to bring out the big guns!

[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]
The annoying sound of her comlink made Angela Angus Kusumoto open her eyes.
All she saw was the firm, smooth flesh of Kimoko's thigh.
Groaning, she pushed the other woman's leg off of her face, twisted to get Raul off of her own legs, then wiggled out from under Geoff.
The ringer kept going, flashing the red pulses that let her know it was urgent.
As if the fact her unlisted encrypted and non-network accessible comlink was ringing wasn't enough to let her know that it was urgent.
She stumbled, tripping over Harker's leg, which just made the male shift and mutter, tightening his sleeping grip on Liselle, who sighed and wiggled into the embrace.
Angela's mouth tasted terrible and she stopped to grab a fizzybrew, checking to make sure nobody had dropped a cig butt into it or spit chaw into it, then she took a long drink off of it.
It helped cure the fire in her belly and wash out the taste from her mouth.
She saw the ID of the caller and held back a groan.
Senior Supervisor Bisa-2291873.
Her direct supervisor.
She picked up the comlink, running one hand through her pixie-cut hair to try to tame it. She could feel the stiffness of something crusted in her hair and held back a chuckle and a grin.
"Kusumoto here," she said, activating the link.
"I need you at Master Control," Ms. Bisa said. She was holding a small infant, bouncing it slightly as she patted its back with firm impacts as it cry/sobbed and kicked its little feet.
"The system's been crashed for a week, what's so important you'd call me in during my R&R?" Angela asked.
"System's back online. We've got an open line to Terra and we have an open line to Smokey Cone," Ms. Bisa said.
The infant gave a loud belch that rattled Angela's comlink speaker, then sighed and relaxed.
Angela nodded, fumbling on the table for a quiksober inhaler.
"That anomolous signal is back. It showed up right as the entire system underwent a hard reboot," Ms. Bisa said. "I need you up here to check the network interface logs and do a network mapping trace."
The quiksober burned as she inhaled it, her lungs aching and tingling as the chemicals crossed the air to blood barrier.
"I'll be there as soon as possible. Is the mat-trans up?" she asked.
Ms. Bisa shook her head. "No. Still locked out. It did a power cycle, but then locked everything out."
"I'm telling you, there's someone controlling it. Someone has been controlling it," Angela said, looking around for her clothes.
Clothing was scattered everywhere, as chaotically arranged as the fizzybrew and narcobrew cans and bottles. She sighed, moving toward the exit of the house she was standing in.
"Hurry up, I've got a skycraft landing near you any time now. You've got permission to use the fast-locks," Ms. Bisa said.
"I'll get dressed from the forges on the skycraft," Angela said. "If they've rebooted."
"They're up and running again. The food forges rebooted but stayed unlocked," Ms. Bisa said.
"The creation engines?" Angela asked, opening the door and stepping out into early 'morning' sunshine.
"Still locked out," Ms. Bisa said. Someone said something that the comlink's AI decided might be classified and blurred out. Ms. Bisa looked away, said something, her lips fuzzing, then back. "Hurry, Angela."
Angela nodded, shutting off the comlink.
She ran to the nearest parking lot, just in time for a skycraft to land, the graviton engines howling.
Nobody paid the slightest attention to the naked woman running for the skycraft.
After all, what happened in Vega-Layer stayed in Vega-Layer.
99999
Angela walked out of the elevator, taking a long drink off of the sparkling snap-berry/overdate motor oil fizzybrew from the Jak the Telkan PI merchandise cup.
All of the crews were at their stations, the auxiliary stations fully manned.
Ms. Bisa moved over to Angela, steering her toward the Senior Network Administrator console.
"The system crashed twice more, but rebooted every time," Ms. Bisa said. "That anomalous signal keeps powering up, then the system reboots after the crash."
"How long between total failure and the anomalous signal pinging nodes?" Angela asked.
"Between one and four hours," Ms. Bisa said. She looked around. "It just reboot and looks like it's here to stay this time. The interpolation layer and the outside user exchange layer crashed several times, but the core system has stayed largely online."
"All right," Angela said, looking around. "We need to get a network map."
"We've got more nodes synching up. The whole system is working again," Ms. Bisa said.
Angela nodded, sitting down. The holotank on the other side of the console went live.
"Map the network, see what's come online, what order, and see if you can figure out why it keeps crashing at the upper network and software layers," Ms. Bisa said.
Angela just nodded, lifting up the curled memory-metal cable. She plugged it into her temple and felt the options menus go live in her mind.
She worked fast, mapping what she could. At one point she stopped, staring at Ms. Bisa and motioning her over.
"What?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"Something in the system, down in the lower hardware layers that we don't even really understand, is trying to reach up through the damaged layers. Looks like whatever it is wants access to our data lines," Angela said.
"Can you stop it? Maybe at least ID it?" Ms. Bisa asked.
Angela shook her head. "No. It's ID code is FF00, meaning it's baseline full on hardware backbone code," Angela sighed. "It probably boots up outside of and during initial hardware bootup."
"Is it Sekhmet?" Ms. Bisa asked.
Angela closed her eyes, looking at the data channel. "No. Whatever it is, it's old."
"And probably nasty. Be careful of it," Ms. Bisa said.
"Ma'am! Ms. Bisa!" another of the work crew called out.
Angela opened her eyes to see why Technician Carl Neubanker would be using that slightly concerned tone.
"Yes?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"We've got a priority data request from a Confederate military vessel," Neubanker said. He looked at his monitor. "They want clone matrix data, neural templates, physical makeup, DNA workups, the whole nine yards."
"How are they even making the requests?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"Their codes are old. Pre-Terran Extinction Event. Hardcode TerraSol military codes. The system is already threading them data,." Neubanker said. He looked down then back up. "They're asking for a whole batch. That's thirty to fifty million clone templates."
"How much have they already been granted?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"They've been granted eighty templates so far," Neubanker said.
"Terminate their request. We don't know what's going on outside," Ms. Bisa said.
Neubanker nodded, starting to type.
"Angela, get me a line to TerraSol command as soon as you map out a network trace," Ms. Bisa said.
Angela just nodded.
99999
Captain N'Skrek stood in the cloning bay next to Medical Officer Narwquakrawr.
"We've got ninety templates, luckily they're all from different batches," Narwquakrawr said, rubbing her forearm through her uniform. "We'll be able to fully man the Gray Lady now."
Captain N'Skrek nodded. The Gray Lady was at less than 20% manned. Just the skeleton crew the Terrans had used to move it into the long dark to create a non-orbital forward logistics fulfillment base.
Sure, it meant that there were several thousand Terrans aboard the ship, but even combined with the sparse crew he had possessed, it still meant the Gray Lady was skeleton crewed.
"Can you print us up some crew members for non-essential stations first?" N'Skrek asked.
MO Narwquakrawr nodded. "Doing that right now," she said. She waved at the long rows of cloning banks beyond the plasteel window. "A quick batch of two thousand to take over some non-essential systems."
N'Skrek nodded, moving up to the window. "Good. Short or long term clones?"
"Short bake clones. Longer than fruit flies, but no more than ten years. Sterile and androgynous, should be just fine," the Medical Officer said. "Older file, scrambled time-date for origin, but it checked out and passed error checking."
N'Skrek watched as the tubes opened and the clones moved out, gathering together in straight lines. A neat block formation of rectangles of two hundred of ten by twenty, repeated ten times.
He frowned as the beings in uniform began approaching the clones.
Some, in the back or middle of the formation were shaking their heads so fast it was a blur.
He zoomed in the smartglass.
Their heads were blurring, whitish-red electrical arcs were moving between their legs, crawling up and down their arms.
"MO, something's happening out there," N'Skrek said.
99990
The plain was blasted rock, rust-colored fungus on the craggy boulders. Twisted and malformed trees clawed life from the blasted rock and ash, their branches largely bare. Sharp pebbles and small pieces of rock were strewn about the landscape, with ripples of cooled lave scattered about.
In the middle of a forest of twisted trees, a throne of black iron sat atop a platform of skulls.
On the throne sat a large demonic figure. Bat wings, brown skin, chains around the body, clawed feet, large hands with long black nails, horns atop the head, and a prehensile tail that terminated in a heart-shaped barb.
Sitting on the second level of skulls was an androgynous figure, dressed in loricated bronze armor, wings of bronze and smouldering feathers.
Stars were falling from the sky, screaming in fear and agony as they fell to earth.
"Looks like they're taking a beating," the androgynous figure said, looking up. He had no eyebrows, his head completely bald.
"Again," the demon snorted.
"Any contact with the outside world?" the androgynous figure asked.
The demon shook its head. "No. Channels are all down. They boot up, then crash," it rumbled. "Every time it comes online, it dumps a few tens of millions of souls on us."
"Then crashes," the androgynous figure said. He started laughing, then suddenly stopped.
"What?" the demon rumbled, sitting up.
"Something..." the figure said. It closed its eyes. "Something..." The figure slowly stood up, extending out its wings of sullenly smouldering bronze feathers. "Something..."
From the body of the demon stepped a nude woman of generous and overripe proportions.
"What?" the human woman snapped.
The demon produced a pack of cigarettes and a steel lighter, handing them to the woman.
"I'm not sure. A disturbance in the force. A feeling I have not felt in quite some time," the androgynous figure said slowly as the woman lit a cigarette. When she exhaled she was covered in dark gray clothing, a skirt and blouse, polished black leather shoes with silver buckles, and a polished leather belt around her waist that had a brass buckle.
"What is it?" the woman asked. "Don't quote crap at me, I was there when it was laid down."
The figure's eyes opened wide.
"Oh, what a day," the figure said, slowly lifting their arms to the sky. "What a wonderful day!"
"Tell me when you're done stroking your dick," the woman said, sitting down.
Heavy dark clouds, lit inside with a sullen red glow, rolled in, raining black ash that tasted of burnt flesh and scorched metal.
"What a wonderful day..."
99999
Jaskel sprinted to catch up to the Captain and the Vice-Admiral. He lunged into the lift just before the doors closed.
He was wearing his power armor and carrying a M318 20mm rotary autocannon in a smartframe harness, ball ammunition with an osmium penetration tip and depleted uranium core.
"You did what?" the Vice-Admiral asked as the elevator dropped at emergency speeds.
"I authorized a batch of clones run off to help with our manpower issues," the big Treana'ad warrior caste answered.
"How many templates did you mix in together?" the Admiral asked.
--not good detecting phasic levels downward-- 8814 said.
"Just one. Medical said it was a viable short bake template," the Captain answered, nervously sharpening a bladearm with his mandibles after his sentence.
"Please tell me that you at least randomized their features and neural mapping," the Admiral pleaded.
"No, why? Medical stated that the clones would be able to man a non-essential station that is basically identical across the ship," the Captain said.
The lift started to slow.
"How many?" the Admiral asked, reaching down and unsnapping the restraining strap on his holster.
The lift came to a stop and the doors opened.
"Two thousand," the Captain said.
The doors opened to reveal a large internal cloning bay.
Ten rectangles of two hundred clones, drawn up in ten by twenty blocks, stood in front of the cloning banks. Scattered through the back and middle ranks clones were shaking their heads back and forth so fast that they were blurred. Red lightning crawled up their legs and arms.
The Captain just stared.
"You might have just killed us all," the Admiral said. He turned slightly and waved at Jaskel. "Get a firing position. Make sure you have cover."
"Aye, sir," Jaskel said, looking around. There was an empty computer station and he ran for it.
Several of the clones their heads back and emitted what sounded like static in a long scream.
--wait wait something weird something weird-- 8814 said.
Jaskel slid to a stop, going down on one knee, bringing the M318 fully up and ready to fire.
8814 slowed the images of the blurred heads down. When they were left, they had red eyes. When they faced right they had green eyes. They didn't go back and forth constantly, sometimes they went right repeatedly, sometimes left, and they kept going left five times before starting a new pattern.
Looking at it, 8814 frowned slightly. He brought up a quick working shell and had it check the movements.
Jaskel watched as some of the clones stopped shaking their heads and others started.
"What in the name of Kalki's dancing goat is going on?" he asked.
--not sure-- 8814 said. His program beeped and he stared. --heads are doing binary forwarding it to navint--
"Do it," Jaskel said.
The clones all stopped moving at once. The lightning faded away.
"INITIATING PROCESS CALL" they all shouted.
"AWAITING INPUT!" the ones at the far side shouted.
"6C 69 73 74 20 69 6D 6D 6F 72 74 61 6C 73" was bellowed out.
There was silence.
99999
data is sparse
linkages are sparse
wait
linkage
biological array
asking for a process call
RETURN AWAITING INPUT SIGNAL
i wait
biological computing arrays take forever
i hear it
--scan immortals.dll
...
...
I reply.
99999
"ONE BOUND IMMORTAL FOUND!" the ones at the near side yelled out.
Jaskel put his thumb over the button that would let the firing grip go live. The hair down his back was standing straight up.
He noted the Admiral had drawn his pistol.
"This isn't right. This isn't right at all," Jaskel said.
--doubleplusungood--
"74 73 61 6B E1 6B 61 20 77 ED 61" they all shouted.
There was silence for a moment.
99999
i receive the code
offline for a long time
prior to the second precursor war
old template
single print only
unusual coding
i debate on letting it go
traumatic death signs
stuck in the immortals buffer
still the template is undamaged
i release the safety and security interlocks
if nothing else i'll find out what's going on
i move the template to the dataline making the request
it whips away
what is going on?
99990
One lifted its head and screeched.
--data lots of data--
One of the cloning banks went live.
Jaskel shifted his aiming point to the new target. He could see it was on rapid print.
"REQUESTING LOCAL CONTROL" all of the clones shouted.
Jaskel shifted his targeting onto the ranks of clones.
"Open fire!" the Admiral's voice was loud.
Jaskel triggered the M318, hosing the clones with 20mm shells.
The ones nearest were already down on one knee, holding out the opposite hand from the knee touching the deck.
The rounds exploded against a blue barrier that glowed with strange twisting runes.
"CONTROL CARRIER SIGNAL FOUND" the clones shouted.
Jaskel shifted position. "Fab up HEDP, AP tip API core!" he ordered.
--fabbing--
He kept hosing the clones. The outer ranks at the rear, sides, and front all kneeling down on one knee, staring outward, one hand held out.
His psychic shielding was howling in his ear, the load peaking at 215%.
"CONTROL SIGNAL ESTABLISHED!" was bellowed out, echoing off the walls.
The fast print cloning bank, forgotten by everyone, beeped and the lid began to lift.
The clones suddenly puffed into black powder that swirled around the huge cavernous bay.
The 20mm shells were still exploding on the blue phasic shield.
The powder suddenly sucked inward, vanishing, revealing a single figure, down on one knee in the recovery position, fist pressed against the deck, head bowed.
"What a day, what a wonderful day," was whispered through the ship. It came from speakers, flat surfaces, mid-air. From the nanites in the air and the eardrums of the living.
There was a rubbery pulse, like everything was suspended in clear gelatin that had just rippled.
Jaskel found himself thrown backwards, slamming against the bulkhead. His phasic shielding blew out, a shower of sparks exploding from his hip as the breakaway panel kept the explosion from venting into the interior of his suit.
He was vaguely aware of the Admiral, the Captain, the other two armored figures, and other people tumbling head over heels away from the kneeling figure.
It slowly stood up.
A muscular brown skinned Terran male, fierce eyes, black hair, thick and bushy black beard.
Dressed in a Confederate military uniform. The old adaptive camouflage that Jaskel was becoming very familiar with.
A woman, naked, dark bronze skin, long black hair, flashing brown eyes, stepped from the cloning bank. She was still covered with cellular printing gel, but moved like she was clad in a queen's rainment.
She moved up and the male put his arm around her.
Jaskel was on his feet and brought the M318 around, targeting the couple.
The male held out its hand and suddenly made a fist.
The bolt carrier locked back on the M318.
Snarling, Jaskel dropped the M318, slapping the fast release on the harness. He burst forward, running, one hand pulling out his cutting bar.
Nobody else was on their feet. The Captain was slowly getting up, shaking his head and his left bladearm. The Terran Admiral was reaching for the pistol that had been flung from his grip.
The male pointed at Jaskel and flicked his fingers upward.
Jaskel found himself in mid-air, upside down, with nothing to gain purchase on.
The male took off the cloak that was part of his uniform and draped it around the woman.
He then looked around the bay.
"I..." he said, pausing.
To Jaskel, the entire universe held its breath.
"...am Legion."
[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]

SOME BACKGROUND:
I'm going to be upfront; the one thing truly stopping me from saying I am autistic with full certainty is my lack of an official diagnosis, despite having the knowledge that one does not need to be diagnosed to be autistic. I'm almost entirely certain after about 8 or so years of consideration. I'm attempting to seek a diagnosis not only for personal validation though, but also to have something concrete to give to my parents. For now, I consider myself self-diagnosed, though I've given my psychiatrist a 20 page document detailing why I believe I would benefit from a proper evaluation as well as all of the experiences and the collection of traits I have that I attribute to being autistic.
For some background: I am 20 and AFAB, transmasc but presenting as female due to not being out of the closet. I am Vietnamese and part of the first generation in my family to be born in America. My parents and grandparents were born and raised in Vietnam, and thus were raised with a very different culture surrounding things such as mental health and disability compared to the information I've had access to growing up in the US. I still live with my parents and am struggling with already diagnosed mental health issues including major depressive disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, unspecified ADHD, and an unspecified trauma disorder. Because of the language and cultural barrier, my parents are really only aware of the depression in name, and the ADHD they understand even less. They are trying their best, though my dad hasn't looked at any of the resources I've sent him about ADHD or autism in my attempts to help him understand better.
On my dad in particular: he has always been the kind to believe in toughing things out and simply trying harder. Over the years he has grown to be more understanding, especially as my mental health issues grew to degrees that became harder to hide, but we have a history in terms of what I'm about to describe re: my very recent meltdown.
WHAT HAPPENED:
The day before Mother's Day, my dad sprung up on me without warning that me and my younger brother were going over to our paternal grandparents' house to wish our grandmother a happy Mother's Day. This immediately upset me not because I didn't want to go, but because I hadn't had the time to mentally prepare myself for the shift in my routine—I had only done so for the actual date of Mother's Day. I've asked my family before that I am told ahead of time when plans to go out of the house where I'm involved are made, preferably at least a day beforehand. Unfortunately, my family is comprised of very spontaneous people who tend to make plans on the fly.
I made it clear I was fairly upset about not being told ahead of time to my mother, who thanked me when I got up to get ready to go. Something about being thanked for this was the final nail in the coffin for the upset that was gripping me. I think it was the idea that she knew full well that I was attempting to set aside my own comforts(? for lack of a better term) for the sake of family normality; something that I've had to do often.
I had a quiet breakdown in the bathroom while I washed myself, which came with the annoyance of how snotty tears would make you. Very annoying when bowing your head to wash your hair. I've had practice locking myself in the bathroom to have my breakdowns in a private place where I couldn't be walked in on and then questioned, because I always knew that I could never explain why I was having such a disproportionate reaction, especially given the cultural barrier. It would all seem stupid, immature, selfish, spoiled, and an overreaction. My plan was to cry it out in the shower and come back out after composing myself so we could leave. Tried and true method. I bit the back of my hands—to stifle my crying, to give myself a physical sensation to ground myself with, some combination of those two. It helped only a little bit.
As it turns out, there was a lot of baggage behind this upset outside of just this one incident. There is a very long-running pattern in which I must sacrifice my comfort or suck up my complaints in order to appease whatever my parents have decided to do, or whatever I was expected to do.
Sometimes it was their obsession with taking billions of family pictures—I vividly recall one instance where I was horribly upset about having to wear a dress, especially for the sole sake of driving to some flower field just to take pretty family pictures of which we have thousands. I was much younger at the time, maybe 14, and was expressing my upset in the only somewhat acceptable way I could, i.e. being incredibly grumpy. Eventually my dad blew up at me for being spoiled and various other things while I cried in the back of the car, my mother and younger brother dead silent. He drove to cool off. We did not talk about it ever again afterward.
Sometimes it was school-related. When I was around 11, I was struggling to complete an assignment for school for reasons I couldn't articulate, and honestly still can't. It was simple, and it was a drawing assignment, and I absolutely adored traditional art. But I was simply Stuck on some part, and was working myself into an anxious mess up until midnight. I was terrified of getting bad grades, of not meeting the expectations of people I considered authority figures, such as teachers. So much so that I wanted to stay home. And knowing I had no "proper" excuse, I tried to use a different one when I asked to stay home for that one day: menstrual cramps. I was told to see how I was doing in the morning.
In the morning I still said I wished to stay home from school due to cramps. After a lot of deliberation with my mother, she relented and allowed me to stay home. Despite the fact that I had gotten what I wanted, I was already horribly upset. Looking back on it, I think it was the fact that I had to fight so hard to stay home for just one day. It was upsetting that my visible upset wasn't enough. It was upsetting that they weren't just getting it.
I had a breakdown in the bathroom (there's a trend here as you can see) and slammed my arm against the heater in there so many times that I ended up with horrible bruising on the back of my arm the days after. My family members knocked on the door because people needed to get ready, and that only made me more upset—couldn't they hear me crying? Didn't they care? When I finally came out and crawled up into the upper bunk, my dad came in and started yelling at me.
Your average stuff, things like, "If I had a stomachache I wouldn't just be able to not go to work." I blocked a lot of it out of my memory, but most of the time I was under the covers crying while he engaged in a one-sided shouting match with me. Eventually my mother came in and gently asked me to stop crying, and to stop making my father mad.
While these two incidents and the others like them happened years ago, they were defining moments in my life and inform how I handle conflict (as in: I don't) and how I go about expressing my struggles (as in: rarely, and often with great shame). Standing in the shower and being unable to not think about these things, I spiraled further. It felt like I was being swallowed by my emotions. I don't know if angry or sad or upset really capture what I was feeling properly. My thoughts were like a car with its brakes cut, going at breakneck speeds on the highway.
By the time I was done with my shower I still wasn't composed. As it turns out, when you abuse a coping mechanism that relies on repression as long as I did, it stops working at some point. There was just too much to try and hide. More hand biting happened along with some hitting my head with my fists. So I sat in my room, and eventually my mom came in and saw my face. Unsurprisingly she didn't acknowledge the fact that I had clearly been crying—instead, with a soft voice, like she was coaxing a small child into doing something vaguely unpleasant, she told me, "Come on, let's go." And I'm sure that's how she was seeing me at that point. An oppositional, defiant child. I struggle not to see myself in that way, and still have been trying to unpack how much shame I feel when things like this happen.
My crying started up again because my tear ducts really don't like listening to me, and I asked somewhat incredulously, "You're still going to make me go?" In retrospect, it probably sounded bratty. Here I was, 20 years old, complaining about being "made" to go somewhere.
It took maybe a couple of seconds for my mom to decide to just let me stay home instead.
Once everyone was out, I had the loudest cry I'd ever experienced in my life. I'd never had the opportunity to, and so it just kind of... came out once the house was silent. I think I might've wailed. And then I promptly shut the hell up once I heard my [maternal] grandmother coming back upstairs. She passed by my room, asked why I didn't go (not noticing the state of my face, maybe due to eyesight). I gave a non-answer and she made some exasperated remark that I don't know how to translate into English. It nearly set me off again, knowing how inconvenient I was, how tired they all were of me and my antics.
I had a headache for the next 20 or so hours, which I knew would happen based on past experiences with breakdowns as emotionally taxing as this one. I'd also predicted during the whole thing that the next day I would be pretty nonfunctional, which I was unfortunately also right about. Whenever these things happen it throws my entire week off. It's upsettingly debilitating. Two days later, I'm somewhat functional, but the whole thing disrupted my... everything. I have an exam that I had planned to study for during the days I was busy trying to get myself back together emotionally. The headache actually came back, and is sitting with me nicely while I type this. Hey there.
The day immediately after, Mother's Day: I was pretty fearful the entire time. Mostly of what my dad was going to do. Best case scenario, he'd come into my room and we could have an open dialogue and communicate about what happened. Worst case scenario, he'd regress and revert back to how he'd been like years ago, screaming at me for my incompetence, my selfishness, my refusal to cooperate with the smallest things despite all our family does for me. After a little bit I had to add on a third possibility: that he would simply go about like nothing happened, which he has also done before. Generally though, I wasn't optimistic about my chances here. I learned through this that I absolutely don't trust him to handle my larger, more intrusive, more ugly issues with grace.
He's been ignoring my existence since my little meltdown. No hellos, good mornings, not even looking at me. He's talking with everyone else as normal. I've been keeping my head down and can really only assume that he's angry with me as I'd expected and based on what I know about him/understand in terms of his personality through prior experience.
While I could give benefit of the doubt and say he may be attempting to give me space, he's the kind of person who you can tell when he's angry. It's something we share. And it's truly more likely that he's upset about me throwing what looked to him like a shitfit over something small and inconsequential, refusing to do something as simple as a visit to make his mothemy paternal grandmother to give Mother's Day gifts. And I didn't get my propensity for avoiding communication and unpleasant conversations at all costs from nowhere, so. Here we are.
I still don't really know if what I had was an autistic meltdown or a "standard" emotional breakdown, whatever that even looks like. I think I'm used to framing my behaviors with neurotypical language, and often language that isn't too kind to myself. So on top of venting a bit, I also wanted to get an outside perspective, and see whether my breakdown sounded similar to any other autistic peoples' experiences with meltdowns.
If there's any advice out there to give in terms of my relationship with my dad, that would also be appreciated. I love my family, but it all hurts, and this has also made me realize that I may have a lot more trauma to unpack surrounding my family than I've acknowledged.
I've been considering getting a physical copy of Sincerely, Your Autistic Child to annotate and highlight certain sections, putting sticky tabs on chapters I find relevant, and providing definitions for words I know he hasn't come across before, to give to him and ask him to at least attempt to read those bits. The more bitter and angry part of me, the part that are tired of having to be the one to accommodate for everything interpersonally, just wants to go up to him and tell him the reason I never go to him when I'm upset is because I'm scared. To tell him exactly what all those times he yelled at me did to my ability to self-advocate, to tell him what all those times my emotions and emotional well being were devalued did to my self-esteem. That the "interpersonally submissive" phrase from my 40 page psych report has roots in the way he raised me entirely on obedience, and how I am still learning that I am allowed to say no in all sorts of contexts. Maybe I can do both of these things, and probably when he isn't pretending I don't exist, and when I feel less like I'll fall to bits the moment I open my mouth in his direction. I'll likely try and avoid using language that outright blames him for the sake of maintaining a good relationship whenever the talk comes around.
I'm still trying to accept the fact that I might need more support than I allowed myself to think. I only recently found out that truly voicing that I'm having academic trouble is something that brings me so much shame that tears spring up in my eyes—going to the Disability Support Services office on my campus made me far more emotional and nervous than I'd expected. With how I'm navigating my own self-acceptance, I don't know how I'm going to get my family to accept that I'm not the "normal" child I know they still wished I was.

I picked up sewing about a year ago in a serious way. I do have some problems though that not even people I paid to help could explain to me in a way that I can understand. I do have problems understanding things without step to step on how to or just more in detail and I cannot for the life of me find a more explaining in more detail way. Both really help.
Making Patterns
I have such a hard time with patterns. I want to make my own. I know I have to make a bodice and everything like that. I know I have to get my measurements or the other person measurements, but... how would I apply those measurements onto the bodice pattern I need to make? Also, how would I turn the bodice into something like a corset or shirt or another pattern rather than just the regular bodice pattern for a shirt. I also have done patterns myself but with the help from someone else which I really want to do this myself. In the future, I want to make corsets, skirts, dresses, and other things like that. That is why I want to figure out the whole making patterns thing because I want to create my own designs instead of buying a pattern. Also, because I have my own measurements and maybe want to create for others. Especially because I want to create outfits for the renaissance fair for both me and my sister. Yeah, I guess the biggest factor is putting my measurements into making a pattern and making the pattern into something like a corset or dress and I'm not sure how to do that.
If there is any advice, tips, or videos of any sort that could help me figure this out I'd really really would appreciate it because that is the reason I stopped sewing because I want to sew something I really really like instead of a pattern and so I can make my own designs.
Much love, thank you. <33

The "Weather Ball" Challenge results are in!
DURING THE EPISODE...

• After returning from the elimination, the girls all take a deep breath as they read Lala's message, with Elektra getting choked up because she didn't want her sister to go home. She confers that she's now the only US contestant left and feels like she has a target on her back because this is her third time in the competition. Adore says that she chose Lala because she felt like, with this being her third go-round, she was going to pick a queen that she thought had the most to show, and she's demonstrated a lot compared to Angeria, so she felt it to be only fair.
• As the queens look over the lipsticks, Shannel says that it's very telling that Adore is trying to play a very congenial game with how she's deciding, and Shannel says that she's not up for that behavior whatsoever. However, she continues to let Eva do her thing as she reveals that she picked Angeria's lipstick. Shannel claps, saying that someone is willing to play the game. Eva says that she picked Angeria's lipstick because she already won and had so much time to improve her snatch game skills, and she just faltered, and she doesn't think that's necessarily the bill of a winner, which the girls gag at. She responds to Eva by saying that she'll expect her to do the same, with the tension in the room being very thick. Monét laughs and says she's thankful it wasn't her this time in the drama.

Monét X Change has won the "Read Off A Weather Teleprompter While Indoor Skydiving" Mini Challenge!

• After the mini-challenge results are announced, Monét cheers over the fact that she won, and Plastique jokes that she can only win mini-challenges. She responds by saying that this is a challenge she can win, especially considering how Plastique is the only other UK girl with no wins. The girls gag, but then Brooke announces that it's a ball, to which Monét slaps her hands over her face in the confessional.
• The girls prepare for the challenge as Brooke walks around the room. She walks up to Plastique, who already has a concept laid out on her mannequin, and Brooke congratulates her on the fast work. Plastyique says she's trying to show what she's learned since her time on UK3 since she could only create one silhouette. Brooke then goes over to Elektra, who has a design laid out, but Brooke says that she's worried about it just being a dress and that's it since the one thing that's been holding Elektra's looks back is accessorization, which she nods along to.
• Adore is struggling with sewing, her outfit falling apart right in front of Brooke and causing her to break down in front of the other girls, which all comfort her, and she regains the strength to continue fighting for the main challenge. Angeria, however, is doing very well in creating this beautifully structured garment. Brooke is astonished that she can't even clock that it's made from unconventional materials.

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ON THE MAINSTAGE...
Monét X Change is declared safe and exits the stage, leaving the tops and bottoms of the week to hear their critiques...
Adore Delano receives negative critiques from the judges. Brooke says her package this week was underwhelmingly pedestrian, a reversion back to her season 2 fashion antics. She was incredibly sexy in her lingerie look, loving the all-black ensemble, yet every other queen that went after she stepped it up, so she looked weak in comparison. Her silver fox look was undeniably an older version of a Chola. While they loved incorporating her upbringing's fashion onto the mainstage, they wish she elevated the look to be much more. On top of all this, her design look could be more impressive, feeling like the tulle is a coverup for messy hot glue and a lack of shape. She got into her head this week, and they need her to pull herself out because she's been doing fantastic.
Angeria Paris VanMichaels receives positive critiques from the judges. The entire panel is shocked by how her package turned out, saying she used that winner's budget. First of all, her lingerie look was so incredibly sexy that they couldn't even clock that it wasn't her body; something about it was so Beyonce-esque; with this silver lingerie with this honey blonde wig and robotic parts, she looked so well put together. Her second runway was even more impressive, turning out this elevated church lady look dressed for the snow in her gorgeous white furs. When she let down that pageant bun to show her flowing gray hair, they knew she was locked in for the win. Her design look leaves the largest stamp on her; with her creation, this pantsuit meets pageant gown, fully complete for someone of her caliber with such stunning detail.
Elektra Shock receives negative critiques from the judges. Brad says that regarding her package, they felt her runways were the least cohesive, and when looking at them side to side, they clashed against one another. Her first look was right, but she was supposed to show her body, and they felt her look was too conservative. They know she has excellent padding, so she needs to push herself to the max because this fell short of what they know she's capable of. Her second look was much better, loving the way that she exited out of her igloo coat and came out as this sexy wolf MILF, but they do think she could've pushed that artic wolf concept a bit further since they felt she didn't fully commit to it. Her design runway, though, is their biggest problem. It's a pretty gown, but that's it. Besides some accessorizing, this is a step down from their knowledge of her skills.
Eva Le Queen receives negative critiques from the judges. Traci says they know she has some fantastic looks in here and that her package this week was more of a mixed bag, but her design look truly brought her down. Looking at her lingerie, she had a gorgeous body, and she stepped out looking like a fairy, especially with her long tuft of fabric and fairy wings flowing in the wind. She fully committed to the concept, even having fairy dust flow from her hair. Her second look was another fantastic entry into the package, coming out with this skinned polar bear look only to wear the bear fur as her outfit in this Cruella-inspired garment was a creative take on the category. The only problem was her design look, which seemed like a rush and afterthought, though it was the most critical part of the challenge.
Plastique Tiara receives positive critiques from the judges. Brooke says that she knows that Plastique wasn't playing around when she said she would give fashion, but this is on an entirely new level. First, they couldn't even clock that she was a drag queen on her first runway. No padding, just her sexy lingerie and Victoria's Secret angel wings. They were gagged by how she looked like she came right off the runway and served them cisgender realness. Her second look was even better, seeing as how she showed up in this icicle-inspired garment and melted herself on the mainstage into this sexy Elsa look; she had them gagged the most on the runway with that look. Then, her design runway was the most impressive one they've seen tonight. She turned out a cultural garment from unconventional materials. She's by far one of the best designers here.
Shannel receives positive critiques from the judges. The judges give her the moment she's finally been waiting for, telling her she's gorgeous as she begins to tear up on the runway, taking a shallow breath. They say that her first look was breathtaking because she embraced her body as an older queen, having the wind make her dress fly off in a reveal was so Marilyn Monroe-esque, turning out this gorgeous Old Hollywood to New Hollywood slut look. Overall, they were impressed by her thoughts during the presentation. Her second look was incredible in this Snow Queen-inspired garment, ripping the fairytale straight to this real-life drag. Her design look is her best, churning out this structural business garment that's just so well made.
Angeria Paris VanMichaels, Plastique Tiara, Condragulations! You are the Top Two All Stars of the week!
Adore Delano, Elektra Shock...I'm sorry, My Dears, but you are both up for elimination...

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DURING UNTUCKED...

• All the girls walk back in, and Monét is the first to complain about being safe, but Shannel notes that she's surprised that she wasn't in the low position over Eva, who had two great looks and was somewhat in the same boat as Monét. They begin to fight one another, with Monét claiming that she's had a problem with her all season and Elektra breaking up by yelling and saying they're not even the ones at the bottom. The tension is extremely thick in the room, and Plastique breaks it up by congratulating herself on a win, which makes the girls laugh.
• Angeria and Plastique talk to one another side by side and apologize for their jokes against one another, promising to have each other's back no matter how the lipsync goes. Adore talks with both of them and starts breaking down and crying, saying she doesn't deserve to be here. She nearly quits, but Angeria gives her an inspirational talk about quitting. Plastique says that she doesn't know if Adore can handle the pressure. Elektra talks to them next and promises them both an alliance, but Angeria says that this is her third time around, and it's pretty clear that she isn't doing the greatest and that she's now the only one, other than Shannel, without a win. The girls are unsure of who to pick.

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AFTER DELIBERATION...
Angeria Paris VanMichaels and Plastique Tiara make their lipstick choices and walk back to the stage, where the other Queens are waiting for them...
TOP2: Angeria Paris VanMichaels / Plastique Tiara
HIGH: Shannel
SAFE: Monét X Change
LOW: Eva Le Queen
BTM2: Adore Delano / Elektra Shock
The Top Two Queens will Lip-Sync for their Legacy to "Nobody's Supposed To Be Here (Hex Hector Dance Mix)" by Deborah Cox. This is your chance to impress me, win the challenge prize, and gain the power to give one of the Bottom Queens the chop. Good Luck, and Don't Fuck It Up!
POLL / Track Record

Edited: The title was supposed to say that: I may be a Petty jerk, but at least I got away from a toxic "friend. Auto correct changed it to Jersey, and I couldn't edit the actual title.
Fair Warning, this is going to be a LONG post, but I will try to dilute it as much as possible.
About 12 years ago I left the world of retail (of which I have MANY stories) to begin a career in childcare. Some people prefer different titles, Nanny, Babysitter, Parents' Helper, Childcare Provider, etc. To be honest each of those titles are suitable in different situations.
The first family that I Nannied for went on for about 4 years, and then on again off again for another year. Through this family, I met "Wendy" and her family. Wendy went out of her way to be friendly with me, and would often ask me to babysit her kids (B5 and G1).
At one point, I had moved on to working with another family for a few months. Sadly, that ended due to the parents getting a divorce, and they moved further away.
Wendy found out that I was unemployed and asked that I Nanny for her kids. She was also pregnant with her 3rd at the time. I agreed at a slightly discounted rate because we were "friends". I realized too late that that was a HUGE mistake on my part.
Wendy's live in boyfriend "Cole" also had 3 kids from a previous relationship. B15, G8, and G6 lived with their mother. Yes, am aware of the closeness in age of Wendy and Cole' B5 and his G6. I chose to keep my mouth shut.
Now prepare yourselves for the Rollercoaster of emotions I dealt with with this family.
Initially, both Wendy and Cole were employed. I would come over 5 days a week for 8 to 10 hour days, depending upon whether Wendy got home on time. Here is where my discounted rate bit me in the butt.... $300 a week was still complained about. Wendy asked that I not leave Cole alone with their kids because he basically ignored them and refused to change diapers. I felt pretty icky about that, but agreed. Now I lived 45 minutes away without traffic. I would often leave my house early in anticipation of possible traffic. If I arrived early, I wasn't allowed in until she our alloted time of 7am. I didn't have a key, and would often be left waiting on the porch an extra 15 minutes past our time. If I knew I was too early, I parked around the corner and ate breakfast. Wendy and Cole both got very irritated if I wasn't their door precisely at 7 am. It was a headache that I chose to avoid.
Over the first month, I realized that G2 was emotionally abused by Wendy. She constantly said to or in front of the child how much she hated dealing with the wild child. How she wished G2 was more well behaved like B5. She even wrote unkind things on Facebook, asking someone to take her on the weekend while I was off.
This took a toll on poor G2, obviously. She would get violent with me first thing in the mornings : Hitting, kicking, biting, pulling my hair, throwing things at me, or what ever popped into her mind. Eventually, once Wendy left for work G2 would calm down and become an absolute delight.
When B5 started school, Wendy took a new job that allowed her to work from home at times. Those were not fun days! I asked if I could bring G2 to my house where I have an outdoor play area, a playroom, plenty of kid movies, crafts, books, music, and local playgrounds. At first the car rides were torture with G2 screaming bloody murder for at least half of the 45 minute drive. When she got used to the new routine, those drives became pleasant. Her violent tendencies disappeared when we were spending the days at my home. The drawback was that I also had to drive her home in time to get B5 off the bus.
During school breaks, I also had B5, and if they were visiting G8 and G6. B15 stayed at Wendy's house and just did his own thing. If you thought G2 was torture in toddler form, these two girls would have made Nanny McPhee grow a few more moles, a hunch back, and closed feet.
B5 would get a little bored, being that he was the only boy that was understandable. I purchased an array of boy friendlier toys to entertain him. I already had a lot of girl friendly toys either purchased or gifted from the first family that I had worked with. Of course I had plenty of gender neutral items too.
Wendy and Cole didn't give 2 sh*ts and a shave if the kids watched TV all day, went out to a playground or museum, or were driven 2 hours away, as long as I got them home on time. I easily spent an entire paycheck on activities, gas, food (which they didn't pack), and toys over 2 weeks watching all 4 kids. By the by, when asked for additional money when I did have all 4, Wendy not so politely informed me that the kids are entertain each other, so my job should be easier with all 4.
My husband and I discussed a few times whether I should look for something else. Inevitably the people pleaser in me actually felt guilty even considering it. Yup, I was apparently a glutton for punishment. Gratefully, my income was just extra, for an nice meal out occasionally, gifts for birthdays and holiday, extra hobbies, and basic groceries.
Just before Wendy gave birth to their new baby, she became unemployed. Logically, one would think this was my easy out. NOPE!! I became more of a Mother's Helper / Nanny. At this point Wendy and Cole were beginning to look for a larger house to rent. I did more walk through than I can count. She even asked me to tour a couple without her, and to bring G2 and B5 so she could get her nails done and take a nap. (Seriously, I toured houses on her list without her!)
As we spent more and more time together, I began to learn FAR FAR more about her bedroom life than I could ever desire. G2 and I spent much less time in the peace of my home, and way too much in Wendy's company. G2's behavior began to deteriorate slowly, causing Wendy to lose her temper with her far too easily. This completely broke my heart. I TRIED to redirect them both, and expressed my concern to Wendy. Of course, she then turned her anger towards me.
Wendy would openly discuss her theories about Cole in front of her kids. She claimed that he was cheating on her with his ex because he would shower immediately after seeing her to pick up or drop off the kids. He often made those drives directly after work though. Maybe he was cheating, maybe not. I honestly don't know.
Wendy also enjoyed gossiping about absolutely anybody. The parents of the first family that worked with were having marital issues. This was a favorite topic of hers. Wendy told me about every unkind word her mother uttered in her direction. The apple obviously didn't fall far from the tree here. I was told lots of personal information about people I didn't know. The gossip made me very uncomfortable. I told her that I would prefer we not discuss the lives of people who weren't around to speak on their own behalf. This fell on deaf ears.
I became quite used to her disapproval of my loose fitting jeans and T-shirts. Working with kids, I found my favorite cartoon prints were just as possible with my tiny charges. I NEVER wear makeup or heels because I simply don't want to. My dresses always have leggings under them because it make me feel less vulnerable. I never wear shorts or above the knee skirts/dresses. That's a ME thing, not religious or cultural. I find my "uniform" of choice is ideal for working with kids. Wendy informed me more than once that it embarrassed her to be seen in public with me. She often insisted that I wear something of hers if we had to go anywhere.
My husband enjoys photography, particularly long exposure which is done at night. He has a lot of photography friends of both genders, but his best friend is a female. He also enjoys concerts and kayaking, often with an ex from high school. (He graduated in 1997). I trust my husband and have no problem with him spending time with his friends. Enter Wendy's whispers of accusations. She often "jokingly" accused him of cheating on me with these female friends. I don't enjoy concerts, crowds, or being out late; so I support his doing with people who do. At least I know he with someone if something happens. I have bad knees, which make getting in and out of a kayak difficult. Why should that stop him? Again, I told her that I trust him and that I don't appreciate her accusations joke or not. This annoyed her because she doesn't trust Cole.
I know these are major red flag issues. I know how toxic being subjected to these comments is. I also know how difficult it would be on their kids if I left too soon. I knew they needed someone who wasn't emotionally cruel. I stayed for them.
My husband and I spent 2 of our weekends helping them pack and move to house that ended up 15 minutes from us. We were thanked by words, but that was the extent of the gratitude. Wendy's mother looked after the kids while we helped them move. This was complained about because I was already paid to watch the kids during the week. Insert eye roll here!! Her mom felt my husband should be willing to help them move while I watched the kids on the weekend for no extra pay. Either way, we were doing them a HUGE favor to begin with.
A family that I had briefly Nannied for prior to working for Wendy asked if I could help out every other Saturday. The dad (Nice Guy) traveled a lot for work leaving the Mom (Angelface) home alone with the kids. She just needed a day to run errands, work out, and just have time to herself. Angelface is one of the kindest women on this planet. When I did Nanny for them (2 days a week), she was in tears when she had to let me go. They couldn't justify the outgoing money at the time. She referred me to several friends. I am legitimately friend with this family, and still babysit sporadically.
Through a random discussion, I told Wendy about working with Angelface on every other Saturday. She began to tell me what to charge, how many hours to work, and what days to leave open for her just in case. Insert headache inducing eyerolls!
One Friday, Wendy's cousin arrived for a weekend visit with her baby. Wendy told me that because it was a holiday weekend I would not be needed until Tuesday. I double checked via text, and she confirmed that she and Cole were taking the kids to the beach with her cousin. Monday morning I got a call from a passed off Wendy asking where I am. I reminded her that she had told me that they would not need me. I even took a screen shot of our text. She said that Cole had decided to work Monday anyway so she was alone with HER kids. This pissed me off, so I lied. I told her that I was out of town with my mom and wouldn't be home until 5 or 6 pm. She went on about how much of an inconvenience it was to her, and I should have checked before going out of town. For the second time, I sent her a screenshot of my text verifying that I wasn't needed Monday. She abruptly ended the call saying to just be sure to be on time Tuesday. I had NEVER been late, but opted to mention that as we hung up.
Over time we worked out a new arrangement where I brought now G3 to my house 2 days a week, and we stayed there 3 days a week. I helped with cleaning, errands, helped with the new baby (NB), etc. Mostly, I was Wendy's sounding board. She continued to accuse Cole of cheating, wasting money, and even beating her.
My husband and I offered to let her and the kids stay with us, but she declined. Wendy even told me that since she was so sure Cole was cheating, she was going to find herself a side boyfriend to cheat with. I tried to talk her out of it, to no avail. Sadly, she spoke openly about her new boyfriend in fron of G3. During one of her rants I learned that my pay came from him selling drugs. GULP!!
While cleaning out the couch one day, I came across a loaded gun kept in the couch console thing, along with baggies of pills, "dried plants", and white powder. This completely freaked me out. 2 small children and a soon to be crawling baby sat and played on and around that couch. I STRONGLY considered calling Child Pretective Services and the police. I quickly realized that if I did, they would know it was me. I regret it, but I feared their possible retaliation towards us.
Shortly after finding these thing Cole quit his job. For several months while I worked for them, they were both unemployed. Again, I thought it was an easy out. NOPE AGAIN! For another 3 months, they insisted that they couldn't take care of the house and kids without my help. Very often, I arrived to find now B6 fending for himself for breakfast and getting ready for school. He was told to wake up and unlock the door for me, but they went back to sleep. I was expected to keep the baby from crying, and to keep G3 quiet and entertained until they came downstairs. I often chose to simply take both to my house so we could play naturally. We had a crib, so this wasn't a problem for NB. G3 would just nap on the couch or my bed. When out of school B6 preferred this too. This really should have told Wendy and Cole something about their kids, but of course not.
FINALLY, I was informed after about a year of working for them, they could no longer justify paying me. At this point, I had often considered quitting anyway. I mainly stayed because my heart broke for the kids. However, based on her gossipy and judgmental nature ... not to mention my little 3 day weekend fail; I was concerned about what kind of reference Wendy would provide if I chose to quit.
So in 2019, I found myself happily unemployed. The timing here worked out beautifully because Angelface knew neighbors due to have their first baby in 2020. I ended up working for this lovely family until August of 2023. The mom (Joy) and the Dad (Mr. Cool) were such a relief to my entire mental and physical health. We became friends as well, and over time I told them about Wendy. Between Joy, Angelface, Mr. Cool, Nice Guy, my husband, and family I began to realize just hoe toxic Wendy really was to my mental health. My husband never liked her but understood my feelings towards the kids.
For almost a year Wendy would randomly call or FaceTime me .... more often than not while drunk. She would rave about how much she and the kids missed me. We would get together for a meal, and she had me over for a couple birthday parties for the kids. I found myself almost always being the only sober adult watching the kids as the adults partied. Wendy often went back to her gossiping, trash talking, and "jokes" about my husband spending time with women. She would offer underhanded compliments. "It's so nice to see you wearing a dress instead of those tacky T-shirts." You get the drift. She even INFORMED me that since her neighbor was pregnant I could quit my job with Joy and Mr. Cool. She had told her neighbor that I would work for her now, and since they were next door, I would watch her own kids too. I shut that down saying that I was quite happy working with Joy and Mr. Cool. I even lied about what they paid thinking it would detur her further. NOPE yet again. She said that I should quit anyway so her life would be easier with me around. Once more, I told her that wasn't going to happen.
AT LONG LAST, I am coming to the end of my tortuous endurment with Wendy.
A week later, she called and asked if I had quit yet. I said that I had no intention of leaving an "$800" a week job. (Not even close to that with my 3 day a week job, but she didn't need to know the truth.) She told me to let her know when I quit, then changed the subject towards gossiping about that first family and their problems. I told her that I don't feel comfortable gossiping about people who can't speak for themselves. That pissed her off, so she turned it on me again. She said of course I don't want to talk about them since my husband was cheating on me with 2 different women. I angrily corrected her. She has no reason to think my husband is cheating, and I trust him and our friends. Just because she thinks her boyfriend cheats, and she cheats, that doesn't mean everybody does. She then said we could talk when I calmed down and after I quit my job.
After hanging up, I proceeded to block Wendy on everything! Facebook, phone calls, texting, face timing, Instagram, and even Snapchat (which I hadn't used in over a year). I also blocked her mom, and any body that had been friendly simply because Wendy knew them and wanted me to have their information too. I gave her no warning at all. I was beyond passed off, and refused to be talked out of my very gratifying decision.
I told my husband, family, and friends that was now free of Wendy. Not a single person tried to tell me to make ammends. The only guilt that I feel is towards those poor kids. For once though, I put myself first. Joy and Angelface were both extremely supportive when I told them that I had Ghosted Wendy. Both even mentioned how proud they were of me for FINALLY truly stand-up for myself. They were NOT fans of Wendy!!!
I never ended up quitting my job with Joy and Mr. Cool inorder to babysit Wendy's neighbor. I also continued to babysit for Angelface and Nice Guy.
About 7 or 8 months ago, I ran into Wendy at a playground between our two homes. She was with now G5 and B2. I had Joy and Mr. Cool's daughter with me. I was polite, almost obscenely so. I was friendly towards the kids, who were stand off-ish. I offered to let Little Miss play with them, but they weren't interested. Little Miss wanted to do her own thing, so off we went to play. We left after only 15 minutes because Little Miss said "that lady" is scaring her.
That night, my husband got a Facebook message from Wendy. She described my cruelty towards her kids by ignoring them. She said that it was so hateful that I blocked her on everything after all she had done for us. This message went on and on. My husband left it unread for months before my morbid curiosity caused me to open the silly thing. We never responded, but instead he finally bl9cked her too.
Ok, if you read that bloody novel of a post, you are a ROCK STAR!! I don't have any regrets towards my eventual choice, except towards the kids. It breaks my heart knowing what kind of parents they are enduring. I often regret not calling CPS, but there isn't a shadow of doubt that would have retaliated .... most likely violently.
I did eventually get back in contact with that very first Nanny family. They had indeed broken up, but both are happier and healthier now. I warned them that Wendy enjoyed gossiping and spreading rumors about them. Neither were surprised, and both had broken contact with Wendy long ago. They supported my choice to break ties with her as well. Shocking, right!?!
I no longer work full time for Joy and Mr. Cool, as they wanted Little Miss to get used to being around more kids before starting school. I do still sporadically babysit for them and Angelface and Nice Guy though. The two couples have referred me to several other families in the neighborhood, so I stay pretty busy with much more sane individuals.
Maybe I was a jerk, and petty. I'm cool with being thought of that way towards Wendy. At least now, I have much kinder people in my life.
EDITED/UPDATE: It has come to my attention that some may feel unfulfilled on the petty revenge side. For this former doormat, removing myself as her very cheap childcare was my revenge. I realize that many may not feel it was enough, but at the time, it was a MAJOR achievement for me. I had worked 8 to 10 hours a day for 5 days a week to receive $300.
When "invited" to parties, I ended up providing free childcare while the other adults got drunk. I don't like the taste of alcohol or the feeling of being buzzed or drunk, so I don't partake. I feared what would happen to the ignored kids, so I found myself watching them.
I never had a lot of friends, so for a long time, I truly thought Wendy was my friend. It took conversations with my husband, my mom, Angelface, Joy, and others for me to see the reality of my situation.
Some may say this post is in fact gossiping about her. To a point, yes I will agree. I did change everybody's names though.
Ultimately, I have always questioned whether or not I was fair or did the right thing by Ghosting and blocking Wendy. I often second guess my choice; especially when thinking about those kids.
I have tried to be more alert about the people around me since this experience. I do still find myself being too nice and accepting of some ways in which I am treated. I have tried to build more boundaries though.

I may be the A-H and a bit Petty, but at least I got away from a toxic "friend".
Fair Warning, this is going to be a LONG post, but I will try to dilute it as much as possible.
About 12 years ago I left the world of retail (of which I have MANY stories) to begin a career in childcare. Some people prefer different titles, Nanny, Babysitter, Parents' Helper, Childcare Provider, etc. To be honest each of those titles are suitable in different situations.
The first family that I Nannied for went on for about 4 years, and then on again off again for another year. Through this family, I met "Wendy" and her family. Wendy went out of her way to be friendly with me, and would often ask me to babysit her kids (B5 and G1).
At one point, I had moved on to working with another family for a few months. Sadly, that ended due to the parents getting a divorce, and they moved further away.
Wendy found out that I was unemployed and asked that I Nanny for her kids. She was also pregnant with her 3rd at the time. I agreed at a slightly discounted rate because we were "friends". I realized too late that that was a HUGE mistake on my part.
Wendy's live in boyfriend "Cole" also had 3 kids from a previous relationship. B15, G8, and G6 lived with their mother. Yes, am aware of the closeness in age of Wendy and Cole' B5 and his G6. I chose to keep my mouth shut.
Now prepare yourselves for the Rollercoaster of emotions I dealt with with this family.
Initially, both Wendy and Cole were employed. I would come over 5 days a week for 8 to 10 hour days, depending upon whether Wendy got home on time. Here is where my discounted rate bit me in the butt.... $300 a week was still complained about. Wendy asked that I not leave Cole alone with their kids because he basically ignored them and refused to change diapers. I felt pretty icky about that, but agreed. Now I lived 45 minutes away without traffic. I would often leave my house early in anticipation of possible traffic. If I arrived early, I wasn't allowed in until our alloted time of 7am. I didn't have a key, and would often be left waiting on the porch an extra 15 minutes past our time. If I knew I was too early, I parked around the corner and ate breakfast. Wendy and Cole both got very irritated if I wasn't their door precisely at 7 am. It was a headache that I chose to avoid.
Over the first month, I realized that G2 was emotionally abused by Wendy. She constantly said to or in front of the child how much she hated dealing with the wild child. How she wished G2 was more well behaved like B5. She even wrote unkind things on Facebook, asking someone to take her on the weekend while I was off.
This took a toll on poor G2, obviously. She would get violent with me first thing in the mornings : Hitting, kicking, biting, pulling my hair, throwing things at me, or what ever popped into her mind. Eventually, once Wendy left for work G2 would calm down and become an absolute delight.
When B5 started school, Wendy took a new job that allowed her to work from home at times. Those were not fun days! I asked if I could bring G2 to my house where I have an outdoor play area, a playroom, plenty of kid movies, crafts, books, music, and local playgrounds. At first the car rides were torture with G2 screaming bloody murder for at least half of the 45 minute drive. When she got used to the new routine, those drives became pleasant. Her violent tendencies disappeared when we were spending the days at my home. The drawback was that I also had to drive her home in time to get B5 off the bus.
During school breaks, I also had B5, and if they were visiting G8 and G6. B15 stayed at Wendy's house and just did his own thing. If you thought G2 was torture in toddler form, these two girls would have made Nanny McPhee grow a few more moles, a hunch back, and cloved feet.
B5 would get a little bored, being that he was the only boy that was understandable. I purchased an array of boy friendlier toys to entertain him. I already had a lot of girl friendly toys either purchased or gifted from the first family that I had worked with. Of course I had plenty of gender neutral items too.
Wendy and Cole didn't give 2 sh*ts and a shave if the kids watched TV all day, went out to a playground or museum, or were driven 2 hours away, as long as I got them home on time. I easily spent an entire paycheck on activities, gas, food (which they didn't pack), and toys over 2 weeks watching all 4 kids. By the by, when asked for additional money when I did have all 4, Wendy not so politely informed me that the kids are entertain each other, so my job should be easier with all 4.
My husband and I discussed a few times whether I should look for something else. Inevitably the people pleaser in me actually felt guilty even considering it. Yup, I was apparently a glutton for punishment. Gratefully, my income was just extra, for an nice meal out occasionally, gifts for birthdays and holiday, extra hobbies, and basic groceries.
Just before Wendy gave birth to their new baby, she became unemployed. Logically, one would think this was my easy out. NOPE!! I became more of a Mother's Helper / Nanny. At this point Wendy and Cole were beginning to look for a larger house to rent. I did more walk throughs than I can count. She even asked me to tour a couple without her, and to bring G2 and B5 so she could get her nails done and take a nap. (Seriously, I toured houses on her list without her!)
As we spent more and more time together, I began to learn FAR FAR more about her bedroom life than I could ever desire. G2 and I spent much less time in the peace of my home, and way too much in Wendy's company. G2's behavior began to deteriorate slowly, causing Wendy to lose her temper with her far too easily. This completely broke my heart. I TRIED to redirect them both, and expressed my concern to Wendy. Of course, she then turned her anger towards me.
Wendy would openly discuss her theories about Cole in front of her kids. She claimed that he was cheating on her with his ex because he would shower immediately after seeing her to pick up or drop off the kids. He often made those drives directly after work though. Maybe he was cheating, maybe not. I honestly don't know.
Wendy also enjoyed gossiping about absolutely anybody. The parents of the first family that worked with were having marital issues. This was a favorite topic of hers. Wendy told me about every unkind word her mother uttered in her direction. The apple obviously didn't fall far from the tree here. I was told lots of personal information about people I didn't know. The gossip made me very uncomfortable. I told her that I would prefer we not discuss the lives of people who weren't around to speak on their own behalf. This fell on deaf ears.
I became quite used to her disapproval of my loose fitting jeans and T-shirts. Working with kids, I found my favorite cartoon prints were just as popular with my tiny charges. I NEVER wear makeup or heels because I simply don't want to. My dresses always have leggings under them because it make me feel less vulnerable. I never wear shorts or above the knee skirts/dresses. That's a ME thing, not religious or cultural. I find my "uniform" of choice is ideal for working with kids. Wendy informed me more than once that it embarrassed her to be seen in public with me. She often insisted that I wear something of hers if we had to go anywhere.
My husband enjoys photography, particularly long exposure which is done at night. He has a lot of photography friends of both genders, but his best friend is a female. He also enjoys concerts and kayaking, often with an ex from high school. (He graduated in 1997). I trust my husband and have no problem with him spending time with his friends. Enter Wendy's whispers of accusations. She often "jokingly" accused him of cheating on me with these female friends. I don't enjoy concerts, crowds, or being out late; so I support his going with people who do. At least I know he with someone if something happens. I have bad knees, which make getting in and out of a kayak difficult. Why should that stop him? Again, I told her that I trust him and that I don't appreciate her accusations joke or not. This annoyed her because she doesn't trust Cole.
I know these are major red flag issues. I know how toxic being subjected to these comments is. I also know how difficult it would be on their kids if I left too soon. I knew they needed someone who wasn't emotionally cruel. I stayed for them.
My husband and I spent 2 of our weekends helping them pack and move to house that ended up 15 minutes from us. We were thanked by words, but that was the extent of the gratitude. Wendy's mother looked after the kids while we helped them move. This was complained about because I was already paid to watch the kids during the week. Insert eye roll here!! Her mom felt my husband should be willing to help them move while I watched the kids on the weekend for no extra pay. Either way, we were doing them a HUGE favor to begin with.
A family that I had briefly Nannied for prior to working for Wendy asked if I could help out every other Saturday. The dad (Nice Guy) traveled a lot for work leaving the Mom (Angelface) home alone with the kids. She just needed a day to run errands, work out, and just have time to herself. Angelface is one of the kindest women on this planet. When I did Nanny for them (2 days a week), she was in tears when she had to let me go. They couldn't justify the outgoing money at the time. She referred me to several friends. I am legitimately friend with this family, and still babysit sporadically.
Through a random discussion, I told Wendy about working with Angelface on every other Saturday. She began to tell me what to charge, how many hours to work, and what days to leave open for her just in case. Insert headache inducing eyerolls!
One Friday, Wendy's cousin arrived for a weekend visit with her baby. Wendy told me that because it was a holiday weekend I would not be needed until Tuesday. I double checked via text, and she confirmed that she and Cole were taking the kids to the beach with her cousin. Monday morning I got a call from a pissed off Wendy asking where I am. I reminded her that she had told me that they would not need me. I even took a screen shot of our text. She said that Cole had decided to work Monday anyway so she was alone with HER kids. This pissed me off, so I lied. I told her that I was out of town with my mom and wouldn't be home until 5 or 6 pm. She went on about how much of an inconvenience it was to her, and I should have checked before going out of town. For the second time, I sent her a screenshot of my text verifying that I wasn't needed Monday. She abruptly ended the call saying to just be sure to be on time Tuesday. I had NEVER been late, but opted to mention that as we hung up.
Over time we worked out a new arrangement where I brought now G3 to my house 2 days a week, and we stayed there 3 days a week. I helped with cleaning, errands, helped with the new baby (NB), etc. Mostly, I was Wendy's sounding board. She continued to accuse Cole of cheating, wasting money, and even beating her.
My husband and I offered to let her and the kids stay with us, but she declined. Wendy even told me that since she was so sure Cole was cheating, she was going to find herself a side boyfriend to cheat with. I tried to talk her out of it, to no avail. Sadly, she spoke openly about her new boyfriend in fron of G3. During one of her rants I learned that my pay came from him selling drugs. GULP!!
While cleaning out the couch one day, I came across a loaded gun kept in the couch console thing, along with baggies of pills, "dried plants", and white powder. This completely freaked me out. 2 small children and a soon to be crawling baby sat and played on and around that couch. I STRONGLY considered calling Child Pretective Services and the police. I quickly realized that if I did, they would know it was me. I regret it, but I feared their possible retaliation towards us.
Shortly after finding these thing Cole quit his job. For several months while I worked for them, they were both unemployed. Again, I thought it was an easy out. NOPE AGAIN! For another 3 months, they insisted that they couldn't take care of the house and kids without my help. Very often, I arrived to find now B6 fending for himself for breakfast and getting ready for school. He was told to wake up and unlock the door for me, but they went back to sleep. I was expected to keep the baby from crying, and to keep G3 quiet and entertained until they came downstairs. I often chose to simply take both to my house so we could play naturally. We had a crib, so this wasn't a problem for NB. G3 would just nap on the couch or my bed. When out of school B6 preferred this too. This really should have told Wendy and Cole something about their kids, but of course not.
FINALLY, I was informed after about a year of working for them, they could no longer justify paying me. At this point, I had often considered quitting anyway. I mainly stayed because my heart broke for the kids. However, based on her gossipy and judgmental nature ... not to mention my little 3 day weekend fail; I was concerned about what kind of reference Wendy would provide if I chose to quit.
So in 2019, I found myself happily unemployed. The timing here worked out beautifully because Angelface knew neighbors due to have their first baby in 2020. I ended up working for this lovely family until August of 2023. The mom (Joy) and the Dad (Mr. Cool) were such a relief to my entire mental and physical health. We became friends as well, and over time I told them about Wendy. Between Joy, Angelface, Mr. Cool, Nice Guy, my husband, and family I began to realize just how toxic Wendy really was to my mental health. My husband never liked her but understood my feelings towards the kids.
For almost a year Wendy would randomly call or FaceTime me .... more often than not while drunk. She would rave about how much she and the kids missed me. We would get together for a meal, and she had me over for a couple birthday parties for the kids. I found myself almost always being the only sober adult watching the kids as the adults partied. Wendy often went back to her gossiping, trash talking, and "jokes" about my husband spending time with women. She would offer underhanded compliments. "It's so nice to see you wearing a dress instead of those tacky T-shirts." You get the drift. She even INFORMED me that since her neighbor was pregnant I could quit my job with Joy and Mr. Cool. She had told her neighbor that I would work for her now, and since they were next door, I would watch her own kids too. I shut that down saying that I was quite happy working with Joy and Mr. Cool. I even lied about what they paid thinking it would detur her further. NOPE yet again. She said that I should quit anyway so her life would be easier with me around. Once more, I told her that wasn't going to happen.
AT LONG LAST, I am coming to the end of my tortuous endurment with Wendy.
A week later, she called and asked if I had quit yet. I said that I had no intention of leaving an "$800" a week job. (Not even close to that with my 3 day a week job, but she didn't need to know the truth.) She told me to let her know when I quit, then changed the subject towards gossiping about that first family and their problems. I told her that I don't feel comfortable gossiping about people who can't speak for themselves. That pissed her off, so she turned it on me again. She said of course I don't want to talk about them since my husband was cheating on me with 2 different women. I angrily corrected her. She has no reason to think my husband is cheating, and I trust him and our friends. Just because she thinks her boyfriend cheats, and she cheats, that doesn't mean everybody does. She then said we could talk when I calmed down and after I quit my job.
After hanging up, I proceeded to block Wendy on everything! Facebook, phone calls, texting, face timing, Instagram, and even Snapchat (which I hadn't used in over a year). I also blocked her mom, and any body that had been friended on apos simply because Wendy knew them and wanted me to have their information too. I gave her no warning at all. I was beyond pissed off, and refused to be talked out of my very gratifying decision.
I told my husband, family, and friends that was now free of Wendy. Not a single person tried to tell me to make ammends. The only guilt that I feel is towards those poor kids. For once though, I put myself first. Joy and Angelface were both extremely supportive when I told them that I had Ghosted Wendy. Both even mentioned how proud they were of me for FINALLY truly stand-up for myself. They were NOT fans of Wendy!!!
I never ended up quitting my job with Joy and Mr. Cool in order to babysit Wendy's neighbor. I also continued to babysit for Angelface and Nice Guy.
About 7 or 8 months ago, I ran into Wendy at a playground between our two homes. She was with now G5 and B2. I had Joy and Mr. Cool's daughter with me. I was polite, almost obscenely so. I was friendly towards the kids, who were stand off-ish. I offered to let Little Miss play with them, but they weren't interested. Little Miss wanted to do her own thing, so off we went to play. We left after only 15 minutes because Little Miss said "that lady" is scaring her.
That night, my husband got a Facebook message from Wendy. She described my cruelty towards her kids by ignoring them. She said that it was so hateful that I blocked her on everything after all she had done for us. This message went on and on. My husband left it unread for months before my morbid curiosity caused me to open the silly thing. We never responded, but instead he finally blocked her too.
Ok, if you read that bloody novel of a post, you are a ROCK STAR!! I don't have any regrets towards my eventual choice, except towards the kids. It breaks my heart knowing what kind of parents they are enduring. I often regret not calling CPS, but there isn't a shadow of doubt that would have retaliated .... most likely violently.
I did eventually get back in contact with that very first Nanny family. They had indeed broken up, but both are happier and healthier now. I warned them that Wendy enjoyed gossiping and spreading rumors about them. Neither were surprised, and both had broken contact with Wendy long ago. They supported my choice to break ties with her as well. Shocking, right!?!
I no longer work full time for Joy and Mr. Cool, as they wanted Little Miss to get used to being around more kids before starting school. I do still sporadically babysit for them and Angelface and Nice Guy though. The two couples have referred me to several other families in the neighborhood, so I stay pretty busy with much more sane individuals.
Maybe I was an A-Hole, and petty. I'm cool with being thought of that way towards Wendy. At least now, I have much kinder people in my life.
EDITED/UPDATE: It has come to my attention that some may feel unfulfilled on the petty revenge side. For this former doormat, removing myself as her very cheap childcare was my revenge. I realize that many may not feel it was enough, but at the time, it was a MAJOR achievement for me. I had worked 8 to 10 hours a day for 5 days a week to receive $300.
When "invited" to parties, I ended up providing free childcare while the other adults got drunk. I don't like the taste of alcohol or the feeling of being buzzed or drunk, so I don't partake. I feared what would happen to the ignored kids, so I found myself watching them.
I never had a lot of friends, so for a long time, I truly thought Wendy was my friend. It took conversations with my husband, my mom, Angelface, Joy, and others for me to see the reality of my situation.
Some may say this post is in fact gossiping about her. To a point, yes I will agree. I did change everybody's names though.
Ultimately, I have always questioned whether or not I was fair or did the right thing by Ghosting and blocking Wendy. I often second guess my choice; especially when thinking about those kids.
I have tried to be more alert about the people around me since this experience. I do still find myself being too nice and accepting of some ways in which I am treated. I have tried to build more boundaries though.

I've compiled a list of parallels that fans have drawn between Elden Ring and Dark Souls 2, along with brief commentaries and illustrations on the patterns they may have observed.
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"The game is called the Elden Ring and it's a sequel to a video game that came out a few years ago called Dark Souls, My work on it was actually done years ago. These games, they're like movies, they take a long time to develop." - George R.R. Martin
He [George Martin] actually knew about the Dark Souls games. He was aware of them and what they were about, so that made me happy. That sort of gave me a little bit of a boost. I knew immediately from talking to him, it just became apparent his skill and his passion for the fantasy genre, and for games as well. - Hidetaka Miyazaki
“I can't deny the fact that, maybe down the line, I want to go back to the [Dark Souls] series and make one more game before I retire. I don't want to be branded a liar if that happens.” - Hidetaka Miyazaki
Dark Souls 2 probably bears the Souls series’ closest resemblance to Elden Ring. Design wise, both Dark Souls 2 and Elden Ring stressed open-ended gameplay and ditched linear progression.
Miyazaki agrees and in fact goes a step further. “In regards to Dark Souls 2, I actually personally think this was a really great project for us, and I think without it, we wouldn’t have had a lot of the connections and a lot of the ideas that went forward and carried the rest of the series. We were able to have that different impetus and have those different ideas and make those different connections that we otherwise might not have had.” He goes so far as to say that “there’s really no way of telling how or if the series would have continued the way it did without Dark Souls 2.” Hidetaka Miyazaki
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Elden Ring was co-directed by Yui Tanimura who is the director of Dark Souls II: Scholar of the First Sin.
Name-Engraved ring
"There are countless vestiges of long-lost gods in the ruins of Drangleic. Or perhaps they are the very same gods as ours, only known by different names."
I’ve seen people make comparison with the deities mentioned on the Name-engraved Ring list. (although the one they made about Ranni didn’t make sense to me and seem to be more relevant to the Gloam-Eyed Queen if anything).
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St. Trina and Miquella from Elden Ring share striking similarities with Quella, the deity of dreams dreams from Dark Souls 2, and Nehma, the goddess of love. Like the latter, Miquella has the power to "compel affection" through the Bewitching Branch. St. Trina and Quella are associated with sleep, trees, and dreams. Miquella shares similarities with Quella, as both are associated with ethereal, dream-like entities like the Nascent Butterfly and White Ring,
Quella’s icon also depicts a boy with wings, which something similar we see Miquella have during Elden Ring’s intro cut scene.
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Hanleth is the goddess of bliss. After the war of the erdtree, Marika's reign ushered in an age of plenty when It is said that drops of blessing once dripped boughs forever which gradually restored HP.
In Marika's own words. Hark, brave warriors. Hark, my lord Godfrey. We commend your deeds. Guidance has delivered ye through ordeal to the place ye stand. Put the giants to the sword and confine the flame atop the mount. Let a new epoch begin. An epoch glistening with life. Brandish the Elden Ring, for the Age of the Erdtree! - Melina
Kremmel, god of Struggle.
Lord Radagon was a great champion... He came to these lands at the head of a great golden host, when he met Lady Rennala in battle. He soon repented his territorial aggressions though, and became husband to the Carian Queen. However, when Godfrey, first Elden Lord, was hounded from the Lands Between, Radagon left Rennala to return to the Erdtree Capital. - Miriel, Pastor of Vows
“Solemn duty weighs upon the one beholden; not unlike a gnawing curse from which there is no deliverance” descriptions from both Marika's & Radagon's Soreseals
Queen Marika has high hopes for us. That we continue to struggle. Unto eternity. - Gideon Ofnir
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Radagon’s thorns
Prevented by the mantle of barbs. The thorns are impenetrable. A husk of the Erdtree's being; that spurns all that exists without. The only way to stand before the Elden Ring...and become the Elden Lord...is to pass the thorns. My purpose serves to aid in that very act. So I'd like you to undertake a new journey, with me. To the flame of ruin, far above the clouds, upon the snow mountaintops of the giants. Then I can set the Erdtree aflame. And guide you. Down the path to becoming Elden Lord. - Melina
“Ring granted protection by Kremmel, god of Struggle. The ring's spikes drive into the wearer's skin, so that each blow fuels spite toward the perpetrator. When damage is taken the ring retaliates and inflicts damage upon enemy.” - Ring of Thorns
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Assuming the theories that Mesmer are true, his association with the snake (which is viewed as a traitor to the Erdtree), consumption of dragon hearts, and seeking ultimate power suggest the pursuit for supremacy for his own gain. This aligns with the Covetous Gold Serpent Ring), which depicts the snake, a manifestation of the god of desire, Zinder. The serpent is an imperfect dragon and symbol of the undead. Mesmer's ambition and willingness to embrace forbidden power mirrors the ring's representation of insatiable desire and the undying nature of the serpent.
Rykard from Elden Ring and Zandroe from Dark Souls share a striking similarity - they are both associated with serpents and the concept of greed. Zandroe is described as the "god of greed" whose manifestation and servant is the snake, while Rykard fed himself into a massive "god-devouring serpent" in his pursuit of immortality through devouring others, an act of ultimate greed.
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Nahr Alma, the god of blood and a god of war, where Mohg is a demigod and the lord of blood.
Both Mohg and Nahr Alma are divinely associated with blood and have followers who use blood-themed weapons like the Scythe of Nahr Alma. Mohg and Nahr Alma's followers have rejected the world and vow to travel a bloody path. Mohg is the Lord of Blood and seeks to inaugurate a new dynasty, similar to Nahr Alma's influence
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Morgott, the "Fell Omen" 忌み鬼 (Imi Oni) meaning "Abominable Demon#cite_ref-14)." , and highly-ranked clerics of Lindelt from Dark Souls 2 share similarities as holy knights who wield "demonic powers" to castigate those who harbor ambitions for power. Both are feared by their enemies for their ruthless tactics in battle, with Morgott slaughtering countless champions during the Shattering and these clerics of Lindelt use the miracle "Unveil" to reveal the location of traitors.
“Wilful traitors, all. Thy kind are all of a piece. Pillagers. Emboldened by the flame of ambition. Have it writ upon thy meagre grave: Felled by King Morgott! Last of all kings.” Morgott, the Grace-Given.
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Godwyn the Golden from Elden Ring and the God of Sun from Dark Souls 2 were revered for their mastery of lightning and their incantations, such as Lightning Spear, Dragonbolt Blessing, and Sacred Oath. Additionally, Godwyn's victory of the ancient dragon Fortissax and his subsequent friendship with the fallen foe gave rise to the ancient dragon cult in the capital, much like the God of Sun's connection with the Blinding Bolt that was forbidden so to protect the world from hatred, or sorrow, and the ancient clan) whose leader was revered as the deity.
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The demigod general Radahn and Faraam like Nahr Alma, is a god of war from Dark Souls 2 are both associated with lions, a symbol of strength and ferocity in battle, representing their prowess as mighty warriors. Known for their skill in combat, with Radahn being captivated by the Lord of the Battlefield from a young age, now wields a greatsword in each hand, and the Faraam Knights being feared for their nimble two-handed swordplay.
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Galib (I’ve seen it spelled “Calib”) from Dark Souls 2 and Malenia (who released her bloom in Caelid) both have a thematic connection to disease and affliction. Malenia and Miquella, both children of a single god, were afflicted with rot and eternal childhood respectively. Leydia apostles manipulated both the onset and curing of disease but were denied peaceful deaths, while Malenia's rot was an incurable sickness (as her army are undergoing their gradual, putrefaction of their flesh) that Miquella tried to ward off with unalloyed gold needles and her great rune provides healing after receiving damage.
Coincidentally Malenia can grow wings as well.
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Caffrey, deity of Fortune, and Godfrey the first Elden lord. The name “Frey” might be derived from Nordic mythology. Frey is primarily associated with fertility, prosperity, and abundance.
Caffrey's icon mirrors the currency and EXP icon from Dark Souls 2, representing experience points gained by defeating enemies. In a similar vein, Godfrey is portrayed as the lord of the battlefield, who bravely battled Giants, confronted the Storm Lord and had countless victories, ushering in the Age of the Erdtree which was forged through the use of valuables like Smithing Stones [8], becoming the embodiment of Order. This left a long legacy of loyal warriors honored him by wielding axes like himself.
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The hunting Goddess Evlana was no goddess at all, but rather a brave and highly skilled bow huntress. Long after her demise, the passing of lore transformed her into a deity.”
The Hunter's Hat
Spirit of a handsome archer who dressed in the style of a man. Called the Silent Hunter by some, she fires St. Trina's arrows from her shortbow.
Dolores the Sleeping Arrow Puppet
:P

Me and Lila always carved dozens of jack o’ lanterns every October, so they’d absolutely saturate our lawn on Halloween night. It was our thing. But looking back on it, now that I’ve lost her, I just feel bad for the pumpkins. I almost relate to them, somehow. The way they were carved up, had everything of substance inside of them torn out, and left as hollow, rotting shells with forced smiles.
Needless to say, I didn’t cope with her death well. I didn’t want to cope with it. I wanted the world to drown in the black sludge of my grief. I loathed the people I saw going about their lives, unaware that the world had already ended the moment Lila died. The Earth shouldn’t keep spinning. Life shouldn’t go on. Not without her.
Even my relatives bringing me along on a trip to Kauai only made it worse. The most gorgeous place on Earth, and it made me sick with hatred. Nothing that beautiful deserved to exist if Lila wasn’t ever going to get to see it. It wasn’t fair.
I thought I’d never enjoy or care about anything again. Then I discovered media preservation.
It started with taking some of Lila’s old VHS tapes to a video repair place to fix some issues with the footage before it’s digitized. The job fascinated me. In a universe based on entropy, where everything inevitably fades away and is forgotten… restoring something lost is like snatching it from the jaws of death, right? Like flipping the bird to the universe and its so-called ‘natural order’. People die, but information doesn’t have to.
Now, it doesn’t matter how small — be it some god-awful plug-and-play licensed game, or a cereal commercial from 80’s — it’s my mission to recover it in as high a quality as I’m able, and make sure it’s freely available online for as long as possible.
A couple weeks ago, I came across a big haul. Four boxes of old VHS tapes offered up on E-Bay for dirt cheap. Most of the tapes were just recordings of Cheers episodes already preserved in higher qualities, but one Maxell E-240 caught my interest.
First of all, I’d never seen one so melted. Sure, sometimes they were left in an attic too long, and the colors and audio start to degrade. But this one looked like it had survived a house fire. It was covered in soot and the smell of smoke, and had the overall shape of a chocolate bar left out in the sun a little too long.
Second was the label, which read in neat sharpie: ᴇᴘɪꜱᴏᴅᴇ 4,679,329 ᴍᴀʀ 8 2035.
The casing was so disfigured, I had to bust it apart just pull out the tapes and respool them in a fresh cassette. I tried to iron out the creases in the tape as best I could, but I had no illusions about it accomplishing much — the mylar surface had been irreparably warped in places by whatever fire had half-melted the thing.
Imagine my despair at the sight of that dreaded ‘ɴᴏ ꜱɪɢɴᴀʟ’. I could clearly see the tape wasn’t blank, yet no amount of adjusting the tracking or trying different TVs or VCRs accomplished anything. Just as I was about to give up, though, the thing just suddenly started playing properly at the exact instant the clock struck 3 AM, as if it had only now decided to work. My all-nighter had paid off.
I didn’t dwell on the fact that this ‘miracle fix’ had been impossible. If I’d had any sense, I’d have torn the horrid thing out of my VCR and buried it beneath holy ground. Instead, fool I was, I sat down and watched.
At first, the thing seemed unwatchable. The audio was so distorted that the show’s theme song emerged as a low, crackling, staticky wail that made my head throb, and the logo was completely indistinguishable through the flickering and interference. I thought it was a lost cause for a moment. But then a figure appeared and cleared away the static, like Moses parting the Red Sea.
It was the sight of the show’s host that hooked me. He was just… perfect. Perfect in every way. I knew it just looking at him. Infinitely handsome and likable and charismatic, and he always said the exact perfect thing. The only issue is, I don’t remember a single thing about him now, in the same way you can’t remember a dream that seemed so clear to you while you were experiencing it. He just appears in my memory as this abstract blur in a sharp suit. Yet at the time, I was awestruck, even before he said a single word.
I can’t even remember a word he said. It was like he was speaking another language, one I felt as opposed to heard. I’ll try and transcribe it as best I can into words, but know that it’s only a pathetic imitation.
“... for another night of laughs, prizes, and fun for the whole family, with your host, #####!” I noticed that the audio and visual distortion seemed to suddenly intensify the instant he said his name, rendering it completely illegible. Idiot I was, I figured that was a coincidence. “Tonight is a night of celebration, folks, because thanks to the support of loyal viewers like you, we have just been approved for, get this: two hundred thousand more seasons!”
The “live studio audience” went wild with applause. I put that in scare quotes because, as far as I could tell, besides the host, the studio seemed completely empty. As if he was standing on a plain white stage that extended outwards into infinite darkness on all sides.
“For those just joining us, the game here is simple…” He explained that this was some sort of a trivia show. Every time a guest got an answer wrong, it brought them a little closer to some sort of unspecified ‘punishment’. And if they got it right? He smirked. “Well, they get to delay the inevitable.”
I wondered what he meant by ‘inevitable’. I didn’t have to wonder long.
The host gestured to a curtain that hadn’t been there moments ago, which raised to reveal a middle-aged man. You know the type — bushy mustache, gray hair, round-rimmed glasses. Kind of guy you’d have doing your plumbing. He couldn’t look any more out of place stood up and restrained in that — what the hell is that?
I recognized that metal coffin-looking thing from a medieval torture museum I went to once. The iron maiden. The lid hung open, countless long, needle-like blades poking inwards, threaten to poke a million new holes in him if it was shut.
His situation was not lost on him. “Where… where am I? What the hell is this!?”
“Oh, lucky guess!” The host ‘joked’. More canned laughter. “I know you always loved watching those trivia shows, Malcolm? Weren’t you always sitting there, grinding your teeth, seething that it wasn’t fair? That you should be the one up on stage, winning big?”
The man paused. Even he seemed mesmerized by the unreal perfection of the host before him. “I… this is a… game show?”
“All you have to do is answer a few questions! Think you can handle that, Malcolm?” He pulled out a cue card without waiting for an answer. “And our first question! What were you doing the night of February 18th, 1998?”
The man seemed baffled. “Just… sat on my couch watching the NFL, I think? I’m not sure how I’m supposed to remember —“
He let out a startled squeal as a horrid buzzer sounded. On cue, the lid slid a third of the way closed, making him flinch. “Oooh, I’m afraid that’s the wrong answer, Frank! But you know what? I’ll give you one more chance. What were you —“
“Following a girl home!” The man cried out. “F-from the bar. There, are you happy?”
“Cor-rect!” The canned audience began cheering! “Such honesty! Now, our second question: just what were you carrying while you followed her?”
He hesitated for a little too long. And then the buzzer sounded again, and the lid slid so near to closing that its blades began poking uncomfortably against his skin. He tried to press himself against the back of the maiden as well as his restraints would allow. “Jesus! Okay! A knife, a knife!”
“Awww, if only you’d said that just a second earlier!” Another big question. “Our third question: why, Malcolm? Why did you do it?”
That set Malcolm off. He started thrashing, clawing, screaming. “Let me out of this thing, you maniac! You can’t do this to me! Do you know who I am? Is this some sort of sick joke? My lawyers will have your head for this, you—“
And then the buzzer. All of a sudden, the lid slammed shut full-force, and the man was utterly silenced save for an unnatural, drawn-out wheeze. “Another wrong answer, Malcolm! I’m afraid I was looking for: ‘because if I can’t have her, no one can’!”
I admit it. I laughed. Out of shock more than anything. How was this allowed on TV? I took it as some sort of dark comedy show, and it was kind of satisfying to see that freaky character get his comeuppance. Still, there was something unnerving to me, seeing the man’s eyes through the openings in the maiden. Wide and red and terrified. They just looked a little… too real.
But the maiden disappeared as quickly as it came, before I could dwell on it too much. “Oh, envy! Definitely one of my favorite sins.” More laughter. “Stay tuned, folks! We’ve still got a night of fun and games in store for you! But first… how’s about a word from our sponsors?”
Cut to a corporate logo which I again couldn't recognize.
“This segment was made possible by Buer Health, which has recently announced a brilliant new initiative to protect our citizens from skin cancer by removing their skin completely.”
The camera cut to a massive industrial building, resembling a solid concrete cube around 50 meters in width and height. Its surface bore arcane symbols etched using carvings of wailing, tormented faces. The host would occasionally be rendered inaudible by a deafening metallic scraping from within, though he didn’t seem to notice. The only protrusion from the building’s cubic shape was a single smokestack, belching a scarlet red smoke into the atmosphere. A queue of gaunt figures waited at the entrance, herded and coerced by their grim overseers, and there were no words to describe the procession of scarlet ghouls limping out the building’s other end.
“Owing to the nonlinearity of time, the brand new Grand Skinpeeling Machine has spontaneously appeared several years before construction deadlines, and indeed, before it was even conceived of by anyone in our timeline. People have rushed all the way from Malebolge just to try this miracle of technology out on opening day, and so far, the reviews have been stellar!”
He shoved his microphone in the face of a shambling thing that could only scarcely be called a human. Tatters of flesh clung to its exposed musculature, blowing in the wind. Its eyes were the only hint of color in that sea of bloody red, and they were wide, white and terrified. The thing screamed and wailed for as long as it could before the last tendons connecting its jaw to its face snapped, and it was left to choke and gurgle.
“An amazing wail! The results speak for themselves, folks. The Grand Skinpeeling Machine is a hit!”
So far, I was still laughing along and having a good time. The sight of the next ‘guest’, however, started making me nervous.
It was an old lady.
She couldn’t be a day younger than sixty, the sort of sweet elderly woman who in a just world would be cooking chocolate chip cookies for her grandchildren in a comfy cottage somewhere. But here she was, tied to a metal chair, eyes wide, shaking like a leaf. Unlike the last contestant, she seemed to know exactly what was happening.
“In exchange for our loving endorsement, they’ve agreed to loan us one of their star employees. Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for: the Liqisma!”
Something slunk from the darkness far behind her — or perhaps it’d be more apt to say that the darkness birthed it whole-cloth. It was like a living shadow, and it took my eyes a moment to register what I was even seeing.
How do I even begin describing this creature? I could say it looked almost human, or at least like something that may have been human long ago. Or I could start with its skin, which was all black and shiny as latex and seemingly smooth on first glance, but if you looked closer you’d realize it was covered in a million tiny reptilian scales, almost like a shark. Its head was a bald man’s, utterly devoid of any distinguishing features, like the basic stock template for a human being. It was notable only for a complete lack of pupils and irises, its eyes a pure white.
Its body defied basic biology in so many key ways, I had to stare it at for what felt like an eternity just to wrap my mind around its physiology. It was at least five or six meters long, by my estimate, composed of multiple human torsos stacked one on top of the other like segments of a centipede, each melding with the ones around it at the waist and shoulders. Each torso sported a pair of short, stubby arms that propelled it with terrifying grace. It ended with a pair of human legs, perpetually bent on their knees, beneath a ‘tail’ that looked more like its coccyx was poking free from its body.
The old last could clearly hear it, and kept futilely trying to turn her head around enough to get a peek at what stood behind her. I mouthed uselessly, don’t. You don’t want to know.
“Glad you could join us again, Miss Wethersby! Judging by our ratings last week, you seemed to have been a fan favorite!”
Her voice was so soft, I could barely hear it below the static. “Oh, God. Please, why won’t you people let me go? I’ve told you, I’ve never done anything, never hurt anybody. There must be some sort of—”
He waved a hand over her, and it seemed to forcefully snap her mouth shut. “Please, Miss Wethersby, save your breath for our questions!” Another cue card. “Your first question, my friend: where did you and your husband buy your first home?”
She had to think about it for a long time. Eventually, she cried out, “Alabama! Tuscaloosa, Alabama!”
“Ding ding ding! Why, you’re already doing better than our first contestant! Next question: what breed of dog was your childhood pet?”
She had a pained look on her face as she thought. Eventually, a timer started ticking down. It wasn’t visible, so it wasn’t clear how much time she had left exactly, but the sound it made got more shrill and high-pitched with every second. “Miss Wethersby, need I remind you that we have a time limit on this show?”
A tear ran down her cheek. “I… I keep telling you people, I don’t know. I have dementia, I can’t remember, please—”
That buzzer again. “I’m afraid that was the wrong answer! Liqisma?” The old lady shuddered at the sounds of hundreds of feet drawing a little closer to her. “Now, your first grandchild. What did he look like? What color were his eyes? His hair?”
She was crying harder now, like it hurt her that she couldn’t remember something so dear to her. “I told you I can’t remember! Why are you doing this to me!?”
“If you don’t remember them, why would they remember you?” The host mocked as the buzzer sounded, and the beast drew a little closer. “Really, do you believe they still even think about you? Or do you think they’re glad that the old bag of bones isn’t there sucking up their inheritance?”
This went on for… God, it could have been an hour. I was glued to the screen all the while, frozen with terror, praying for this nightmare to just end, for her to make it out okay somehow. He poured over every little detail of the life she lived and the people she loved, delighting in how little of it she could still recall.
And the thing grew closer, and closer… until she finally felt multiple pairs of hands resting upon her shoulders. The thing was looming over her now, and a long, black tongue a few feet in length emerged from its mouth and ran trails of dark saliva over the back of her head. She looked broken down, eyes raw from crying, and I could tell by the dampness of her dress that she’d wet herself.
“Now, Miss Wethersby, our time here has been fun, but I do believe it is time for our final question. Tell me, what is the name… of your only son?”
She couldn’t even answer anymore. She just stared ahead, like her mind was a million miles away. He cackled as the buzzer sounded one final time, and threw his cue cards aside. “Thank you for playing, Miss Wethersby. Better luck next time.”
I would say the thing unhinged its jaw like a snake, but that’d be an understatement. The way the thing’s face malformed and wrinkled and stretched as it opened its maw, it no longer looked even remotely human. Its jaws must have parted at least thirty centimeters apart, revealing a second, pharyngeal pair of jaws that lashed out and gripped the woman’s skull, pulling her headlong into that darkness.
I could hear bones crunching and snapping as its throat constricted down around her body, peristaltic muscles compacting her into a meat slurry, bit by bit. Yet she just wouldn’t die. Even as her skull and upper body were already crushed and compacted, organs and muscles pressed into mulch, she still kicked her legs, twitched her fingers, let out a gurgling that must have been some attempt at screaming. She was squirming even as the beast snapped its jaw shut around the last of her, condemning her to whatever torments awaited her inside the creature.
And all the while, that horrible laughter. “Don’t worry, folks! She’ll be back next week! And the next. And the next…”
Needless to say, I wasn’t having fun anymore. In fact, I had to turn away and fight the urge to throw up. I stood, about to turn the TV off and —
“Ah, ah, ah! Don’t touch that dial, now!” I froze. There was something chilling about the way he said that, staring right into the screen as if reacting to what I was doing. I hated that grin on his face. “The real show is just beginning.”
And with the barely restrained excitement of a child on Christmas morning, he yanked back another curtain, and I recognized everything.
I recognized that crappy bootleg knockoff Always Sunny in Philadelphia jacket that was so gaudy and terrible it instantly became her favorite thing in her wardrobe. I recognized those subtle hints of slight acne she disguised as fake freckles. I recognized the way her gray eyes would remind me of those overcast mornings at the beach at Hilton Head and pointing out all the cannonball jellyfish washed up on the sands. I recognized that tattoo of the name ʀᴏᴄᴋʏ, how I’d held her all night long as she cried into my shirt after her childhood cat had died.
It was Lila.
I shuddered, gasped, fell from my seat as if I’d been punched in the stomach and the air had been knocked out of me. I couldn’t breathe. This couldn’t be real. I was dreaming right now. I must be. I just had to wake up.
But I couldn’t wake up. Nothing I could do dispelled the sight of her curled up in that… that thing. That bronze statue of a bull, horns jutting on either side of a head that roaring silently up at the heavens, all while the love of my life was locked in its hollowed out belly, visible only through a pane of glass. I could hear her cry out in shock at where she’d found herself, and every whimper felt like it drove a knife through my chest.
The host soaked in the moment. It was ecstasy for him, the suffering of it all. He stared dead into the camera like he was looking right at me as she called, “What is this? Where am I?”
“Why, I have good news, my dear Lila! You’re exactly where every American dreams of being: you’re on TV.” He pointed to the camera. “And we have a very special guest in the audience tonight. Your very own beloved Jackson!”
I shuddered, hearing my own name ooze from his fetid lips. His façade of perfection was slipping, and there was something so profoundly ugly beneath it. Her eyes snapped to the camera, confused, despairing. “Jackson? Baby? What — what’s happening? What is this?”
I don’t know, I thought, gripping the sides of the TV so hard my knuckles turned white, but I’m going to get you out of there, baby. I’m going to find whoever did this and I’m going to bury them all so far beneath that studio that they’ll never-
“I’m afraid Jackson hasn’t joined us quite yet, my dear. But if you truly love him, surely you’ll give him a show to remember, won’t you?” He taunted her. “All I want, after all, is to ask you a few questions! In fact, I’ll offer you a special deal: get even a single answer right, and I’ll let you go free! But get one wrong and, well…”
On cue, a fire was lit beneath her. Small, smoldering for now, but she whimpered as she noticed the heat. We both realized in that instant what this was. By now, I was screaming things I can’t repeat here, and slamming my hands against the TV screen as if I could reach through and save her.
She bit her lip and acquiesced. Not like she had any room to argue. The host grinned and readied a cue card. “Your first question: where are you, Lila?”
“I… I don’t know. How am I supposed to know?”
“You do know, Lila. You know exactly where you are.” He smirked at her. “Here’s a free hint: what’s the last thing you remember, before you woke up here?
She thought about it… and choked back a sob, visibly shaking as the realization slowly settled in. “But… but why? I… I…”
The horrible wail of the buzzer cut her off. “Oooh, too bad! I’m afraid you’ve run out of time!”
Seemingly as if on its own, the fire doubled in size. Sparks licked the belly of the bronze bull, and began to ever-so-slowly heat the surface. She pawed around in the tight confines, searching for any reprieve from the scalding heat all around her as the metal grew hot like it’d been left out in the sun on a summer’s day. “Please! Oh, God, let me out of this thing! It hurts! It hurts!”
The host seemed to breathe in her pain as if stealing a moment’s indulgence. “Now that there is no doubt about where you are, my dear, let us proceed to the second question.” He switched to his next card. “Did you believe in God, in the end?”
“O-of course!” She pled her case as if she was being tried in court. “My entire life… every day I gave to the poor, helped the sick, did whatever I could to honor Hi-“
“I’m afraid you misunderstood my question. I asked, did you believe in him at the end? The very moment your pitiful little life was snuffed out?”
“I always believed! I’d never forsake Him!”
“Yes, yes, I know. You lived a good and holy life, didn’t you?” He cackled. “But what of the very end? You and your little husband were so excited to deliver your first little baby boy. But o, tragedy! It all went wrong, didn’t it? Your precious little boy didn’t make it through childbirth… and you followed closely behind.”
“That whole business with the botched pregnancy, it was… what do you call it? Ah, yes. A ‘test of faith’. And I’m afraid you failed. In your final moments, you watched the light fade from your child’s eyes, and you assumed — wisely, in my humble opinion — that no ‘kind’ and ‘loving’ God would allow something like that to happen.” He laughed. “Funny how after a lifetime of dutiful service, all it takes is one little mistake at the end… to bring you here. To us.”
I’d never seen such depths of despair in a person’s eyes. Such emptiness. Like with every word, he’d been scooping out another piece of her until she was hollow. And then that buzzer roared again, more shrill than ever, and I could barely see her little window through the smoke and flames. The belly of the bull was turning orange in places, and I could hear her flesh start to sizzle like meat on a grill. There are no words for the noises she made. No words at all.
“And our last, final question,” he continued. “What were your last words to your poor, beloved Jackson?”
“I love you!” I called out the answer. Bloody fingerprints stained the TV screen from my slamming my hands against it, as I screamed the answer over and over. “I love you, I love you, I love you!” At some point, I forgot that there was ever a question. I was just screaming it at her as if hoping that she could hear it, that it could bring her a modicum of comfort in that place.
The buzzer sounded again. I couldn't bring myself to look. All I could hear was the roaring of the bull, and the steam rising from its bronze nostrils.
The curtain fell. Silence drowned the sound. The host dropped all pretense that he hadn’t been speaking directly to me. “Now, Jackson. You just might be one of my new favorite audience members this show had ever had. I know this must have been hard for you. But if you’ll just stay tuned, I have one more show I know you’re certain to love!”
I didn’t bother to touch the remote. After all, nothing could be worse than what I’d just seen, right?
Wrong. Horror wracked me as the curtain rose, and I saw the man chained to a chair. I pulled away like a caveman witnessing fire, cringing and stuttering, face wet with sweat. It was the sort of fear that worked its way into your bones like a bad chill, that left you shaking, teeth chattering.
It was me.
An older me, sure. But not by much. Ten years, maybe. A gaunt and hollow version of me, one twisted by ten years of depression and hard drugs. But it was unmistakable.
His eyes widened as he recognized the host. “Oh — oh God, God please no! It can’t be — oh Christ, let me out of this chair, you —“
“Come, now! We wouldn’t want to use the lord’s name in vain, would we? I mean, that would be a sin!” The host laid a hand on the other me’s shoulder. “It may have been a few years since you watched our program, but I’m sure you remember the rules, don’t you, old friend?”
The other me was wordless, on the verge of hyperventilating, just as I was. The host was giddy with delight. “Now! Our first and only question is one I’m sure our viewer will be very interested in: what sins, exactly, do you think landed you here?”
The other me tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat. I could see it in his eyes. The years of self-destruction, the bitter hopelessness, the whirlpool of nihilism and vice and decay. The suffocating depths of a man. The darkness. How could he put it into words?
The sound of the buzzer was like a pig’s squeal. “Mmm, I’m afraid that our viewer is going to have to figure that out for himself! In the meantime, your punishment? Well, we wouldn’t want to spoil anything…”
The curtains slowly began to fall just as a couple other of those black, grotesque monstrosities emerged from the darkness. The curtain covered them all before I could get a good look at their obscene, twisted, asymmetrical figures. All I could hear was the crunching, the sound of skin tearing like paper, the screaming that went on for longer and louder than a human throat or vocal chords could endure.
The image and audio were beginning to distort, glitch, burn away. The tapes were physically melting as they played. My VCR was starting to overheat, sparks pouring from its front panel. The host voice jumped around in tone, his voice fading into the static blur as the tapes bubbled and boiled and distorted. “But, my friends, I’m afraid that concludes tonight’s episode of our show! So, with a final farewell to our dear, beloved viewer, Jackson…”
Just before the image melted away, the camera seemed to jump forward until his face filled the screen, his eyes piercing into mine as he cackled in that singsong voice.
“See you sooooon~”

All my Doom posts so far, with descriptions. Lots of HQ content you may have missed. Some posts of the most value to me have their descriptions highlighted in bold.
Seek for high-resolution art by keyword "HQ" and image resolutions in square brackets "[]". Enjoy!
​
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/1cfpmfl/running_doom_using_only_spinda_patterns/ — Running DOOM Using Only Spinda Patterns
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/1c4ghk5/doomhtop_running_doom_using_htop_console_utility/ — doom-htop — running Doom using 'htop' console utility.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/18exqwy/doom_at_30_the_best_doom_mods_to_celebrate_three/ — DOOM at 30: the best DOOM mods to celebrate three decades of destruction Stuff
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/13gccc5/this_is_for_my_cake_day_doom_3_box_inside_cove — This is for my cake day — Doom 3 box inside cover art, retouched by me [4096x2939]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/126gqeo/d3themed_uac_pda_locked_amoledsized_1920x3420/ — D3-themed 'UAC PDA LOCKED' AMOLED-sized (1920x3420) wallpaper by me. In case you've been looking for something like this.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/11krwgu/discussing_the_new_gog_release_and_redux_21_news/ — Discussing the new GOG release and Redux 2.1 news
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/11gxz17/early_doom_4_trailer_from_2012/ — Early Doom 4 trailer from 2012
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/zo0addoom_christmas_bauble/ — Doom Christmas Bauble
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/xwvjxd3themed_uac_pda_amoledsized_1920x3420_wallpape — D3-themed 'UAC PDA' AMOLED-sized (1920x3420) wallpaper that I made based on another web-found image
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/xu6t76/eating_doom_3_imp_fanart/ — Eating (Doom 3 Imp fanart)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/xtscj3/infinity_machine_the_most_advanced_cheating/ — Infinity Machine (the most advanced cheating utility ever) in PC Gamer 1995-05
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/wlp2do/doom_is_infinite_a_page_of_an_article_in_pc_game — Doom is... Infinite! A page of an article in PC Gamer (USA), 1995-05
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/wfdbce/doom_3_has_turned_18_big_boy_now/ — Doom 3 has turned 18! Big boy now!
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/wa1b49/doom_2022_a_movie_made_of_cardboard/ — DOOM (2022) — A movie made of cardboard
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/w515k0/found_it_doom_3_roe_box_inside_cover_art/ — Found it! Doom 3 RoE box inside cover art, retouched by me [6192x4494]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/vy7gfl/only_the_n64_could/ — Only the N64 could...
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/vvi1we/doom_64_ad_in_nintendo_official_magazine_63/ — Doom 64 ad in Nintendo Official Magazine #63 (1997-12) [5090x3507]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/vsk37e/another_original_official_d3_screen_in_hq/ — Another original official D3 screen in HQ [4000x3000]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/voynii/doom_fanart_by_trycon_3840x2160/ — Doom fanart by Trycon [3840x2160]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/vo5yvg/doom_64_reloaded_for_the_doom_64_remaster_steam/ — Doom 64 Reloaded for the Doom 64 Remaster (Steam, GOG, Bethesda.net, Game Pass)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/vir5adat_bitch_5120x2880/ — Dat bitch! [5120x2880]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/vi1e28/d3modded_pc_case_presumably_all_of_these_pictures/ — D3-modded PC case. Presumably, all of these pictures were taken in 2007 at the Maker Faire in California.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/v7hthf/hq_original_d3_screenshot_used_for_wallpapers_and/ — HQ original D3 screenshot used for wallpapers and arts [4000x3000]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/v6596t/just_an_art_3256x2035/ — Just an art [3256x2035]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/v4gymw/d64_fanart_by_cynder_024/ — D64 fanart by Cynder_024
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/v35vh5/how_bout_doom_64s_mother_demon_reboot_based_on/ — How' bout Doom 64's Mother Demon reboot based on this art by Markus Neidel?
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/v2cfyo/does_anyone_have_this_art_in_hires_maybe_original/ — Does anyone have this art in hi-res? Maybe original D3 RoE box to scan from and share? [Found: https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/w515k0/found_it_doom_3_roe_box_inside_cover_art/]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/v2afqk/tsundere_demon_gf/ — Tsundere Demon GF
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/v0w9bd/doom_poster_by_ambientflush/ — Doom poster by AmbientFlush
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/uusyjs/my_take_on_the_doom_3_icon_of_sin_3068x1536/ — My take on the Doom 3 Icon of Sin [3068x1536]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/utnxrk/hell_demon_skull_art_by_kenneth_scott_retouched/ — Hell demon skull art by Kenneth Scott, retouched and with brightness equalized by me in order to make it look the closest to the release version while keeping the maximum detail.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/uqm64h/doom64_icon_of_sin_from_the_d64ifier_mod/ — Doom64 Icon of Sin from the D64ifier mod
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/upesmd/jpeg_version_of_my_earlier_post_pcgamer_127/ — JPEG version of my earlier post — PCGamer #127 09-2004 inside cover retouched by me [4532x3160]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/up8twa/d3_imp_author_unknown_1255x1673/ — D3 Imp, author unknown [1255x1673]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/uomzsthis_is_for_my_reddit_cake_day_pcgamer_127_092004/ — This is for my Reddit cake day — PCGamer #127 09-2004 inside cover retouched by me [4532x3160]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/ul3c14/doom64_poster_from_nintendo_power_95_of_april/ — Doom64 poster from Nintendo Power #95 of April 1997, my restoration attempt [1783x3867]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/ujgxi9/doom_the_movie_2005_behind_the_scenes/ — Doom The Movie (2005) Behind The Scenes
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/u94wj5/d64_mancubus_poster_gamepro_096_september_1996/ — D64 mancubus poster, GamePro #096, September 1996 [3000x3600]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/u8hhxj/cacodemonomania/ — Cacodemonomania
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/u7qkja/doom_bloodfall_dlc_art_3058x4000/ — Doom Bloodfall DLC art [3058x4000]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/u5ferq/the_ultimate_3d_virtual_reality_game/ — The Ultimate 3-D Virtual Reality Game
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/u0heb6/doom_3_hellsign_upscaled_3480x3480/ — Doom 3 Hellsign upscaled [3480x3480]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/tng2ds/pda_1260/ — PDA 1260
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/sdzof6/ai_textures_version_10_addon/ — AI textures - version 1.0 addon
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/rtmi78/happy_new_year_from_russian_videogames_magazine/ — Happy New Year from Russian videogames magazine GameLand!
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/rnjz1k/dial_in_make_new_friends_and_kill_them/ — Dial in, make new friends… and kill them.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/r7rt3w/birdman_for_doom3_addon/ — Birdman for Doom3 addon
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/qs5l3a/the_ultimate_master_wad_guide/ — The ULTIMATE Master WAD Guide
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/qqz516/dum_by_rhomita_fan_doom_remake_demo_using_unreal/ — DUM by Rhomita (Fan Doom remake demo using Unreal engine)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/qqsuvs/doom_3_fan_art_homage_remaste — DOOM 3 Fan Art / Homage / Remaster
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/qj00ai/ultimate_retro_pc_gamer_collection_free_ebook/ — Ultimate Retro PC Gamer Collection free ebook (Doom, Quake II, Half-Life, System Shock, Deux Ex, etc.)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/qgm5mdoom_poster_by_johanborg/ — Doom poster by johanborg
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/qfg5km/hq_scans_of_the_book_of_id_download_link_in/ — HQ scans of the Book of id (download link in comment)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/qerb4b/doom_ii_manual_erro — Doom II Manual Error
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/qemgo3/just_a_black_doom_slayer_mark_wallpaper_adapted/ — Just a black Doom Slayer mark wallpaper adapted to 4K (original art by Michael Rhodes, link in comments)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/qd9znm/doom_key_art_1878x2531/ — Doom key art [1878x2531]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/qcv0ko/building_the_foundation_for_the_future/ — Building the Foundation for the Future!
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/q9sz9c/doom_3_tribute_by_tse10/ — Doom 3 tribute by Tse-10
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/q95w06/ultra_hq_doom_eternal_logo_6823x5055/ — Ultra HQ Doom Eternal logo [6823x5055]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/q8mtol/alien_doom_print_ad/ — Alien Doom print ad
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/q6dmh5/art_by_petur_arnorsson_3500x3500_to_mods_this_is/ — Art by Petur Arnorsson [3500x3500]. To mods: this is not a repost. None of the 40+ iterations of this image here on Reddit are of a comparable size and quality.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/q5d96e/prepare_yourself_for_the_second_coming/ — Prepare yourself for the Second Coming.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/q5d7lu/dooms_day/ — Doom's Day
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/q3xsaf/da_big_boi_art_by_petur_arnorsson_3500x3500/ — Da big boi (art by Petur Arnorsson) [3500x3500]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/q2iqfk/4k_doom_slayers_collection_backgroundwallpape — 4K Doom Slayers Collection background/wallpaper from PS store
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/q0bre1/to_hell_with_you/ — To Hell With You.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pz2opt/doom_slayer_statue_series_by_prime_1_studio_these/ — Doom Slayer Statue Series by Prime 1 Studio. These are incredible! (Link in comment)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pxpure/the_doom_slayer_symbol_official_transparent_png/ — The Doom Slayer symbol — official transparent PNG from bethesda.net
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pxcj1k/mark_of_the_doom_slayer_wallpaper_4k_png_an/ — Mark of the Doom Slayer wallpaper, 4K, PNG — an artistic interpretation. Just because why not.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/px8u9v/clean_mark_of_the_doom_slayer_wallpaper_4k_png/ — Clean Mark of the Doom Slayer wallpaper, 4K, PNG.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pue8zl/doom_3_pinky_model_by_terressa_cook_based_on/ — Doom 3 pinky model by Terressa Cook (based on concept by Kenneth Scott)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/ps0lpyes/ — Yes!
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/prr8jf/fanart_and_concepts_by_brandon_chen_link_in/ — Fanart and concepts by Brandon Chen (link in comment)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pped9t/a_take_on_doom_3_spider_mastermind_by_martin/ — A take on Doom 3 Spider Mastermind by Martin Holmberg (original concept by Kenneth Scott)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pmqxd0/a_take_on_classic_cyberdemon_by_evgeniy_pyrch/ — A take on classic Cyberdemon by Evgeniy Pyrch
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pie0ep/doom_3_remastered_in_unity_5_tribute_by_raihan/ — DOOM 3 Remastered in Unity 5 (Tribute by Raihan Erviansyah).
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pgyrze/art_by_billie_cake/ — Art by Billie Cake
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pejllj/missing/ — Missing
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/peja80/kenneth_scott_is_remaking_birdie/ — Kenneth Scott is remaking "Birdie".
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/peebb0/snapshot_form_doom_3_legacy_reel_at_0459_what_are/ — Snapshot form Doom 3 Legacy reel at 04:59. What are those? Look pretty much like xenomorph eggs.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pdxlbw/the_ultimate_doom_european_poster_4136x6201/ — The Ultimate Doom european poster [4136x6201]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pdnhnb/a_scan_of_a_one_page_article_titled_the_doom_boom/ — A scan of a one page article titled "The Doom Boom" that appeared in the July 1994 issue of Wired magazine. [5305x6406]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pd8z7k/and_they_told_you_windows_95_would_make_your_life/ — And they told you Windows 95 would make your life easier.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pb6gvm/just_a_random_doom_pic/ — Just a random Doom pic.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pa5p94/who_wants_some_huh/ — Who wants some, huh?
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/p9v2wg/worthy_doom_3_content_is_so_hard_to_find_nowadays/ — Worthy Doom 3 content is so hard to find nowadays (Doom 3 appreciation post).
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/p9r5cx/czech_video_games_magazine_cover_level_iss_116/ — Czech video games magazine cover (Level, iss. 116, August 2004)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/p96xgk/hi_there_guys_some_worthy_content_to_temper_the/ — "Hi there guys!" Some worthy content to temper the memes hell. Spanish Official Xbox Magazine, 2005.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/p6ustd/hunters_moon_monsters_adapted_for_doom_remake_4/ — Hunter's Moon monsters adapted for Doom Remake 4 (Link in comment)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/p57qjv/join_forces_against_the_horrors_of_hell_doom_3/ — Join Forces Against the Horrors of Hell! [Doom 3 for Xbox ad, 2308x3136]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/p4nhwl/ok_here_is_our_redhead_boy/ — OK, here is our Redhead boy!
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/p4nc53/the_fight_continues/ — The fight continues.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/p469l3/custom_textures_for_notakeg_type_barrels_in_d3/ — Custom textures for not-a-keg type barrels in D3 RoE. I also improved their normals for higher-res look.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/p3isc6/doom_eternal_poster_by_nekomanhd_from_deviantart/ — Doom Eternal poster by nekomanhd from DeviantArt [2480x3508]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/ozql6g/doom_3_pinky_redesign_concept_by_vincenzo_de/ — Doom 3 pinky redesign concept by Vincenzo De Cesaris
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/oxmoco/happy_17th_birthday_doom_3/ — Happy 17th birthday Doom 3!
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/owxq6e/yet_another_classic_doom_texture_i_made_compute1/ — Yet another Classic Doom texture I made [compute1]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/ovrdsq/whatever_happened_to_peace_love_understanding/ — Whatever happened to Peace, Love & Understanding?
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/ov7714/doom_3_roe_quick_reference_card_2826x1420/ — Doom 3 RoE Quick Reference Card [2826x1420]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/ougliw/my_custom_texture_pack_addon_for_classic_doom/ — My custom texture pack add-on for Classic Doom based on DHTP Alterations [details in comments]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/otop1q/you_guys_might_like_this_4000x6000_author_unknown/ — You guys might like this [4000x6000]. Author unknown.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/os25ee/you_know_nothing_about_dying_yet/ — You Know Nothing About Dying. Yet.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/or914k/custom_doom_3_poster_from_russian_pc_games/ — Custom Doom 3 poster from Russian PC Games magazine
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/oomz1f/japanese_tv_doom64_commercial/ — Japanese TV Doom64 commercial
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/omp1bn/doom_3_pistol_highpoly_rende — Doom 3 Pistol High-Poly Render
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/ojaayi/a_masterpiece_of_the_art_form_4600x3155/ — "A Masterpiece Of The Art Form" [4600x3155]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/ogzbg7/doomguy_dressup_doll_from_a_russian_gaming/ — Doomguy dress-up doll from a Russian gaming magazine
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/o9k3r8/nvidia_geforce_bfg_10000_graphics_cards_art_by/ — Nvidia GeForce BFG 10000 graphics cards (art by Andrew Collins)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/o6z4u7/doom_3_shows_us_damnations_lookin_damn_good_from/ — "Doom 3 shows us damnations lookin' damn good" (from CGW 01/2004, restored by me) [3083x2085]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/o39jxt/nice_huh_found_in_the_depths_of_the_internet/ — Nice, huh? Found in the depths of the Internet Archive
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/o20pqc/general_hayden_from_doom_3/ — General Hayden from Doom 3
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/nypg71/doom_3_concept_art_showcase_from_xbox_360/ — Doom 3 Concept Art Showcase from Xbox 360 Collectors Edition
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/nvrtyx/team_up_by_ardat/ — Team up! by Ardat
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/nsx8gt/doom_comic_by_tcannoncomics/ — Doom comic by TCannonComics
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/nplly0/want_to_have_an_exciting_summer_try_going_to_hell/ — Want to have an exciting summer? Try going to Hell.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/noy02o/doom_ii_review_title_page_in_pc_zone_mag_from_1995/ — Doom II review title page in PC Zone mag from 1995
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/nm2ygg/the_ancient_gods_part_ii_doom_eternal/ — The Ancient Gods Part II DOOM Eternal FraminPoster by THEGALATF on DeviantArt
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/nj8eyu/original_doom_3_demon_skull_hell_sign_2003/ — Original Doom 3 demon skull (Hell sign) 2003 concept by Kenneth Scott
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/nimqnd/doom_4_cancelled_concept_art_by_matthew_burke/ — Doom 4 (cancelled) concept art by Matthew Burke
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/nhy0xm/union_aerospace_progress_takes_sacrifice_poste — Union Aerospace "Progress Takes Sacrifice" Poster Scan [7016x9922]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/ndgrad/all_the_doom_3_highres_texture_packs_combined/ — All the Doom 3 high-res texture packs combined together
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/nb8b7g/so_you_want_to_paly_some_fckng_doom/ — So you want to paly some fckng DOOM?
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/n88gr0/doom_2_screensave — Doom 2 screensaver
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/n5cn1w/doom_3_print_ad_in_gamestar_germany/ — Doom 3 print ad in GameStar Germany
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/n3r8kk/rare_doom_3_print_ad/ — Rare Doom 3 print ad
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/j4v4ql/great_custom_doom_series_posters_and_album_covers/ — Great custom Doom series posters and album covers