So I went out with this guy from an app. He matched w me and we talked a bit, moved to text. Didn’t nail down a day so I said can we do next week?
He never replied. I go back on the app and run into him and match. He made a joke about how he saw me before. Long story short we finally make a plan and meet up.
He didn’t ask me out again during the date so I figured it’s not gonna happen, I was super nervous and was more friendly than flirty. From our texts I didn’t know his personality but my friend helped me act more flirty and he responded well to that. Anyway, after the date he texted me that he hopes I’m back safe and I said it was great meeting him etc. he asked me a few other questions like about hobbies and I shot some questions back- then on my last text he just never replied back.
I feel like I did something wrong. Like I did this fully wrong and I’m embarrassed/ can’t stop thinking about it. I actually ran into him on the app again. I wanna just forget about it.. also I had no other success with messaging any other guys on the apps or they end up telling me they don’t live in my area etc. he’s the only one I actually met with. Anyway I don’t know I feel horrible

You make pretty regrettable mistakes when you're desperate. Unfortunately, desperation would go on to cost me much more than I ever thought possible.
When I was 19 years old my financial situation wasn't great. In what was left of a crumbling home would be my recovering addict twin sister, and myself. The unfortunate state of our home was all from the even more unfortunate passing of our parents just four years prior. The two hadn't died tragically by any means, thankfully. No.. our parents died of old age, a consequence of having us kids later in life, while not being able to take on the financial burden that would be.. us.
My sister was making the early steps into the college lifestyle, doing her best to stay afloat with my support in funding. Money was tight for the two of us, but as she became more well off on her own, the more content she was with severing the last remaining tie to her childhood.. me.
I didn't hate Xel for her decision, if anything I understood her distancing from this life.. even if it saddened me. So then it was just me! Left to a house with a hole in the ceiling. Believe it or not, life wasn't all to bad even with how considerably down in the dumps it otherwise seemed to be.
However, content as I might have been, it's human nature to want more than you have. Can't say I was to greedy to look for some comfortability in my own home..
And so there it was! The glistening letters of ink outlining my salvation. An advertisement I'd found plastered onto the wall of the small booth I sat at while I waited for the bus to carry me off to work. "$5,000 to those compatible for a recent scientific breakthrough." Under any 'normal' circumstances I would consider this a scam. Hell, I was skeptical as I scanned the letters. Had I been told of this opportunity through spam call or text I would've glossed right over it just as anyone else would have.. but I was desperate.
I think it was the fact that someone, some real person had to have put this paper up on this wall gave me some glimmer of hope for a quick cash grab. Listed bellow the promise of money was details for a number to call regarding interest in the proposition.
I took the bait.. I saw the line, and like some idiot I clamped my teeth down just for that hook to sweep me away.
The corporation I'd come to know as, "The Arsaction," would see me just a week later. There was a brief consultation. They took my weight, age, all things I would've expected. It wasn't until they pulled records regarding my familial situation that I began to find this whole ordeal.. suspicious.
To 'begin' to find things suspicious only at this point is foolish, something I full understand, but I feel the need to reinforce the fact that I, Lex McKarthy, was desperate.
Everything by this point seemed pretty legit. The blood tests, the doctors office, the tests were.. reasonable. What was I to suspect? Everything was so vague, and truth be told I honestly didn't even expect anything to come of this visit. All the doctors, all the consultants seemed so disinterested in my features.. but when they realized I had no one, everything seemed to change.
Suddenly ears perked, suddenly doors closed, suddenly I was.. exactly what they were looking for. Every feature of myself was so painfully average. I was anyman, I was.. nothing. Despite their best efforts to be discreate, I knew it was only the fact that nobody would come looking for me that peaked their interests.
My stomach dropped when I was faced with a pen in my hand, trembling over that NDA. Every fiber of me cursed myself for never considering putting just a minute of research into 'The Arsaction,' however a video briefing would ease my nerves. Nobody knew who The Arsaction was. There was no public record of their existence, and that NDA would make sure that they continued to never exist.
I was stupid, I was irrational, I was in over my head! But I was desperate.. and I had nothing else.
"I have nothing else.. I have nothing else!"
It was a mantra I chanted as I was injected with that substance. The substance that turned my blood orange, made my skin freakishly thin.
And then I went home.
That was it. I was given my sum of money, and I was sent home. They told me I was, "good to go," and no number of questions would get a one of them to speak. I was only met with who I'd assume to be security guiding me out of the building.
Not a word more of what I'd just been injected with, only given instructions to not dwell on mirrors for too long. That was it, just some ominous instructions. So I left, as befuddled as I arrived. Relief washed over me as I made my way home. The anxiety I'd received from such an ominous buildup was all waved by the fact that I was somehow just.. good to go?
Relief quickly turned to panic as the inherent nature of it all being too good to be true set in. I expected to die, I expected some visit from government agents, I expected anything and everything, but as months turned to years.. Nothing ever came of it. No mirror ever caused me any harm, which was its own anxiety I'd have to overcome simply because of the absurd nature or such a request.
I hoped it was.. some prank. Everything was well... for a time. Of course to disturb my peace, my sister called.
I just.. watched the phone ring. My sister, someone who I hadn't spoken to in upwards of 8 years was suddenly ringing me up. When I finally had answered, her question left me speechless.
"Hey Lex. would you happen to remember Mom's recipe for that egg toast? I think I left the cookbook at your place."
I felt my ears ring. The question was so.. casual. She entirely skipped the part where we discussed how she's been, how I'm doing. She spoke to me like we'd hung out only days ago.
At the time I'd thought I was just being dramatic, but looking back on it I can only justify my own hesitation to respond.
"W-..what?"
I stammered like a fool, but I was firm in my disbelief.
"Yeah, it should be in the book on the counter?"
I looked over my shoulder to my kitchen counter, past the toaster I never bought, and over to the book she spoke of. My jaw hung heavy, the whole interaction feeling like a dream.
With one hand I held the phone, and with the other I began to skim the pages of the book letting my eyes linger on mom's cinnamon roll recipe for a bit longer than intended.
"Lex.. are you ok?"
My sister inquired on the other end. I suddenly felt sick.. falling the the ground and laying on my back. This wasn't happening.
"Lex? Are you alright!?"
My sister repeated back more urgently, followed by her assurance that she would be over soon to check on me. But.. no company ever arrived. After hours the line just dropped, and I fell asleep there on that cold, wooden floor, paralyzed with a feeling I couldn't wrap my head around.
When I finally gathered the composure to stand I would try to call Xel back. A frown dawned my face when she never answered. Somehow this didn’t surprise me, and I was lead to believe that she had never called me in the first place. The thing is, the book was still on my counter, and her call was still logged on my phone.
Still, I hadn’t known Xel to do something like this. It wasn’t in her nature to do something so cruel, to act like all this time hadn’t passed.
But it has. Years have gone by and nothing but radio silence from her, a silence I feared would go on. The following days I would continue to attempt to call her, but to no avail.
I had to come to terms with the fact that, as quickly as she had returned too my life, Xel was once again gone. I’m ashamed to admit that, just as I’d forgotten that experience with The Arsaction several years ago, I’d forgotten about my own sister.
Even if she wouldn’t call back, I was inspired to begin looking through old family pictures, and this is where the oddities would start to fester.
I found a picture of Xel and I just.. eating breakfast. Usually my mom was off to work by then, but it was a special occasion. It was a day I remember so vividly. I was 14 years old at this time, and had awoke to the sweet smell of cinnamon rolls filling the air. After all, it was Xel’s and I’s birthday. All was right with the world, all as I climbed from the messy sheets in my dark room. It was abundantly clear that the bulb of the light beside my bed had burnt out over the course of the night, and the closed blinds didn't aid my vision as I stumbled around my room in search of my door.
An oddity presented itself in the fashion of aimless wondering. Where was the nob? One I'd become so accustomed to.. not needing to open? I'd never closed my door. Not the previous night, not ever. Not to the behest of my mother who'd always taken annoyance to closed doors, some trait of my grandmother's to which my mom had unfortunately inherited.
Breakfast took the form of two strips of bacon, scrambled eggs, and slightly burnt French-Toast. My previous assumption of cinnamon rolls unfortunately missed the mark, however I wouldn't object to this. I wish I could convince myself that I was wrong. Something so mundane, something so insignificant to the events in this story, however the first notable instance of a curse that I couldn't pinpoint
My mother had already seen herself off to work by this point, and so I was faced with the responsibilities of seeing myself out to the bus. Some routine I'd become far too used to; The minutes passed, leaving me with nothing to do but wait by the door for a buss that would never arrive.
If the door being shut and the cinnamon rolls being a different meal entirely had left me with a minor confusion, then suddenly being seated in the passenger seat of my mother's car listening to the nonchalant complaints from my twin sister about the nuances freshmen year math shot me into a disarray I couldn't possibly quantify.
I think one of the scariest things for me is the fact that I thought nothing of it. I hadn't freaked out. No scene was made to express what should have been one of the more disturbing instances of my childhood.
I could chalk up the mistaking breakfast for something else as me just misremembering events.. But something unmistakable is the fact that somehow my mom both never drove me to school, yet the fact that she.. always had.
If you're confused, I understand. I am too, because the contradicting nature of my memory is something that haunts me to no end.
Things were easier as a child. That's often the case, but ever sense I stopped aging, I've begun to notice the oddities presented by life that are.. inexplainable. I'm not even sure where to start with researching my predicament. Hell, this is reddit! If I couldn't find an answer here, I doubt there is an answer to be found at all.
The Mandela Effect is something that I feel needs no introduction. To those who don't know, the Mandela Effect, in brief, is a phenomenon that incurs when you "misremember" something. Think of a card, now imagine you saw that card as a child and it had a single heart drawn on it's center. Now, years later you are discussing this card with someone else just for them to tell you that the heart you swear, the heart you KNOW you saw.. was a diamond. You tell them they are wrong, you shake your head, chuckle nervously.. But then they present you with the card.
Your stomach drops. This can't be the card, there is no way! Only it is the card, and when you come to the realization that it is in fact the card you'd seen as a child, you are filled with a mix of confusion, fascination, and quite possibly denial.
Most often, the Mandela Effect is associated with silly things like books titles, and board game mascots, but my experience is far beyond such things. It's the only phenomenon I've found that seems even within the realm of explaining my predicament. Problem is, the more I think, the more is wrong.
All of me wishes it all ended with that one childhood experience! But it didn't. In fact, the more I consider my childhood, the more contradictions I notice. Part of me believes I could handle this if it was limited to my childhood, but it's not. This.. experience... It effects my every day!
I'm not losing my mind, I'm just picking up crumbs that I never dropped. Not.. losing my mind, just finding more "mind" than the inventory should account for.
As I stop and think now, I’m understanding that my memories are.. overlapping. Other mirrored versions of myself and my memories will occasionally cross paths, and when they do it causes me to misremember. Not because I don’t remember, but because my memories conflict with one another.
I wish I could see someone about this, but I’m worried the consequences of me seeking someone out.. still, we make dumb mistakes when we are desperate, and I’m starting to feel desperate again.

Not sure what I hope to gain from this but maybe there will be some clarity to gain from an objective opinion. That being said I will prob delete this later- but while I’m here I will try to be as detailed and neutral to the facts as I can be, but there is a lot of history in a 15 year relationship so get ready to read a small book. I M33, grew up in an abusive and poverty stricken home, naturally I escaped that situation as soon as I could (after high school in 2008) my parents would explode over the littlest thing- like the first time I recall thinking I could not rely on my dad was after witnessing him beat my sister to a pulp, and then threaten me about telling (I never did) over her bedroom being filthy. Now, between high school and meeting my now wife F34 I was in a committed long distance relationship. Not to dwell here as it has little to do with the story, that relationship ended Dec 1 2009, I made my way to a small college town and found a place to stay with a few friends I knew from high school. This could only be described as a party house that a few poor and brave folks lived. The rent was cheap and the people were good. Not to mention, it was easy to drowned my feeling with drugs and alcohol here and not be judged. This was right after the 2008 financial crisis and I had found employment delivering for a local restaurant, and was not interested in starting a new relationship. Well mid way through December one roommate decided he was moving out, which left a room open for rent. This is where I met who, at least at one point was the love of my life. Jen F34 was a recent college graduate, who comes from, what I would consider a well off family. Jen was part of some drama with her old roommates and decided she would move in. She had been accepted into a work training program that would send her to a new state 15 hours away, so she was also not interested in a serious relationship. Jen was seeing someone we will call Mark. Mark and Jen we in a non-serious sexual relationship. The moment I saw Jen something inside me said i want to be with her, but I was still fighting demons from my failed relationship. So I hung around her and was content just being a friend..well this goes on for about a month..before it happened. One drunk night and I am waking up, naked next to her..she was still seeing Mark at that point, and I had no idea what I had done. She broke it off with mark a few days later and I took his spot. As a non-serious sexual partner, well the months flew by then all of a sudden we both had caught feelings. We had finally agreed we would only see each other. Well one day I come home from work and she is cuddled up next to a guy we will call Adam. I was devastated. I confronted her and she played it off as nothing. Just passed out and woke up and he was next to her, I had my doubts but in the end believed her and forgot about it. As things got more and more serious the dread of her moving day was inching closer. We both were bothered by this. She wanted to stay, I said no. I eventually agreed I’d move to her after her training program. (She had to stay on a company campus for 3 months for training) during this time we were long distance- I worked my ass off to get ready for a cross country move and she was getting a place ready for us to live. During this time she went out with “friends” and said she would call me after. 2 am nothing, 3 nothing 4 I’m worried sick and finally fell asleep around 4:15am. My phone goes off at 5am. She calls me incoherent and making 0 sense. I thought again she may have cheated on me but again no evidence- said she got a bit to drunk and stayed out too late. I again believed her. I was able to forgive and get over it- I’m not the type to stress over anything that’s not life changing so moving day arrives. I get all my stuff in order jump on the greyhound and start my journey. Dying inside to finally see my women again, well 22 hours later I arrived. She was supposed to be there to pick me up but she was no where to be found. I text and called, she finally answered and was very short with me, and pulled up a short while later. As soon as I got in the car she was mad. Telling me I should not have come, it was a mistake etc. we get to the apartment and I’m feeling like a sucker for being there, we have some food and she apologized for her actions in the car and we moved forward. Well the next almost two years of our relationship was amazing- epic sex life, passionate about each other the whole 9. Some minor drunk arguments here and there but nothing crazy. I consider this the best time of my life. Around 3 years in our relationship we got pregnant. Over those 9 months we were closer than ever. Excited to bring a beautiful baby into to this world, scared beyond words but happy. Then one day she was in pain and pretty sure she was in labor. We get to the hospital and thus starts one of the most traumatizing experiences for her. Extended labor time, breach baby, intense pain and anxiety followed by a c-section, and a multi-night stay in the hospital. Then a long recovery process. Needless to say being young, broke, new parents is probably the hardest thing I have ever experienced and can admit that experience must have been even worse for her and while life as new parents took hold she grew into a nurturing mother while I regressed. I was over worked, underpaid, stressed out and took what was a minor drinking habit to an excessive drinking habit. This was the start of a long line of huge fights, financial problems, and ultimately leads us to know. chewing on the idea of divorce. But before I get to now, let’s do a quick life recap. My wife and I are living together with our newborn, isolated from friends and family, I’m quickly drinking more and more. I worked an over night labor job, and Jen was still working for the same company. But more of an 8 - 5 we only saw each other in passing most days. Our blessing was colic and cried constantly. We both began to feel like we needed to be close to friends so we packed up and move back after her contacted ended a year later. Back to the small sleepy college town we met. We moved back, our kiddo was 1, things were looking up, I had gotten a day job- our kiddo was finally sleeping better, really it seemed good. But since her c-section a year prior, we had only managed to have sex a few times. I thought this would be the change we could to finally revive our bedroom life. But it hardly changed, add a few more times to the few mentioned before. We went from daily to basically none, not to mention we would constantly fight about things that need to be done, money, etc. I’ll admit I did not do my part of house work. So things are starting to fall apart- I’m still drinking heavily, our bedroom was on life support and I fucked up and started watching porn, browsing sites akin to tinder. I have to say I never actually hooked up with anyone but I did get some photos sent to me. Not my proudest moment. Well I arrived home from work and Jen had found said communications and browsing history and was rightfully mad. After a week or so staying with a friend and she allows me to apologize , I assured her it was nothing more than digital and explained how I felt about our sex life, or lack of one specifically. Things kind of improved for a bit, I stopped drinking, we were being intimate, we got married, she quit working and went for a graduate degree, I had found more gainful employment. until one day Jen noticed something new on my body.. a wart to be specific. At some point I contacted HPV. Which then made me look like a liar. (I since found out it was a girl i had a one night stand with shortly before my prior relationship. (Common friend told me years later))but I had no explanation or evidence to prove my infidelity was not physical. Well after this happened things got bad, really bad. I started drinking heavily again, right into financial ruin. We were broke, rent due, hungry baby, relationship just about dead. 0 bedroom life. I never said I was the good guy here. Just trying to be honest about our past. So we need cash quick so we don’t fall behind on bills, it is eventually decided she will strip for cash until we can get out of the hole I dug us. I’m pretty insecure but we had no other choice. I was handling it pretty well, until I noticed something in her attitude. She would get home and try to initiate sex with me. It was welcome but odd- till this point we had a half dead bedroom for years. I pried it out of her that stripping turned her on and instantly felt disgust. I lost it on her, how could she- come home and fuck me smelling like alcohol and bathroom cologne. Can’t fuck them at the club easily so come home and pretend I’m someone that turns you on. Had we not had issues overall in the bedroom I would not have felt this way but this made me feel gross, betrayed, guilty, angry. She obviously is mad at me since it’s my fault she was there. We had a fight and somewhat made up. Bedroom life was slow, life went on, things are pretty crappy and one night she goes out with a friend and shows up back at our place, hammered, with a guy from the bar. Our child was asleep in the room and that man is lucky I did not shoot him. She claims he was her friends stray but she let a stranger come to OUR HOUSE. Well at this point, i was mad but eventually just got over it. Life moved on we came out of the financial hole moved to a nicer place and began work towards saving for a home. She was still stripping on and off to help save. Well then she actually cheated on me, with another girl I front of a group of guys for money. I’m died inside at this point. I fell back to drinking heavily, again sexually all but dead. I basically repressed it and allowed her to get off easy (when she found my digital infidelity years prior I had to stay with a friend for a week) over this time, things are quite- status quo- saving for our first home. After some time like this I got a new job- and we could finally purchase. So we did- just before the pandemic. Our bedroom was basically dead- only initiated by me, was pretty one sided and seemed like she was just doing it to appease me. Constantly fighting of little things like chores (if I did not do them exactly the way or time she wanted it done WW3 would break out) but we managed. The the pandemic happened. We decided we would move closer to her family so we could have some support and hopefully work on us. We were able to live with her family for the next 1.5ish years. I only recall having sex twice during this time. (Could have been more but like I said I’m still drinking at this point) we bicker constantly during this time. Mind you all I am slowly at this dying on the inside this whole time. We had a major blow up in front of everyone a few days prior to closing. Stemming from myself feeling generally put out. Stick in a sexless marriage and the fact that I had a work thing in Vegas for a week. We sign - I leave for Vegas- she organizes the movers and get everything in. We have our own space again. Now we are almost to the present day. I again found new employment and have a high stress, high 6 figure salary career we have had many of fights due to chores, and household duties etc. she was convinced it was due to alcohol so I finally quit drinking for good. The goal was to hopefully fix this relationship, have a more intimate bedroom. In fact this was agreed upon when I quit. Some of the other things that have been said in these arguments was that she is working and trying to find better work so she can financially afford to leave me. She currently works on a “less than part time” contract work type stuff but is basically is a SAHM. I pay 100% of everything. This is now 6 months after I stopped drinking and there has been no change in our bedroom life. 3.5 weeks ago: I calm Loy state that I thought we agreed on the spicing up the bedroom with more frequently maybe some lingerie. I am getting a bit frustrated with this. Her: I just started my period but I hear you. A week goes by period done still nothing. 2 weeks ago Friday: we are sitting on the couch. I am feeling very much frustrated sexually. We are watching tv together, and I make a comment about one of the people. Here is what happened : Person on TV while crying “I recently found out my body produces excess estrogen” me: must be why you’re so emotional. Her: you’re a sexist pig, a misogynist, thats a misnomer and actually testosterone does that and so many other things I forget them all but that was the gist. Just offended. I apologized and said it was just a dumb comment. Somewhat calmed down but the energy was thick. Then I made my second mistake: a morbidly obese person came on screen wearing a sold color onesie. I muttered : dude looks like a bowling ball. And that was it- I’m a disgusting pig and she is going to bed. I sleep on the couch that night seething that again no sex, again random attacks against my character, again using something like a comment about a person on screen to go to bed. Saturday: my kiddo sees me on the couch, asks “dad can you make me an omelet.” Me still upset with how the night ended with my wife- complained about not wanting to make it- and eventually agreed. While cooking breakfast - wife comes downstairs and immediately starts in on me, ignoring my advances for a hug, telling me i need to walk the dog because she doesn’t have time. I also needed to run an errand before the kiddos sports ball game. I told her kind of angrily I had shit to do as well and what is preventing her from doing it. Well she does, things are quiet, we get to the game and we are sitting there. She brings up the comments of the night before and started this whole thing in public. Trying to get me to lose my temper in public. I was able to ignore it and just finish the game. Pushed all that down and was ready to move on. We get home from the day’s activities and she does what she always does says good night to the kiddo and gets ready for bed. Again I sleep on the couch. Sunday: she wakes up and starts cleaning, I try to be nice again- making advances to hug her, kiss her etc. I walked the doggo, not asked to do so- kiddo asks me to cook some food again so I do. No complaint, but while I’m cooking she makes another comment about my character. And brings up Friday again. I lost it: I was screaming at her like I never have before. Told her I wanted a divorce, that she clearly doesn’t want this it’s why she can’t even pretend to want me sexually and that I am nothing more than an ATM for her at this point. The rest of Sunday and Monday was silent. This is when I started this novel of a post. Finally she apologized and admitted to being cold to me, promised to work on this. Tuesday, best sex we have had in a decade, Wednesday, repeat action, Thursday a 3rd time. This past Friday- I was spent this was more sex than I had in a row in years. I was happy. Saturday, family members bday and another sports game. All day gone- everything good. We get home late- she is tired no problems. Sunday Mothers Day. We had plans with her family to do some hiking the first part of the day then have lunch and play a game. Everything is going fine. It starts to get around 3:00 pm and I tell her I am ready to go home. She said we have not played the game and that she wanted to. So I agree- we play a few rounds and during the game she could see that I was getting annoyed that we had to play another round I was not being rude but just not enthusiastic about ti. She looked at me and said I need to check myself. The way she said it, the fact she said it at the table so everyone could hear. I felt disrespected, we left and argued a little but I ended up saying sorry because ok I get it my fault. So we get home and she comes into my office space (which was dirty) glasses, and tons of boxes /other recycling that had not be taken care of. She told me to do it I agreed it was gross and started picking up. She kept on about how I’m disgusting for leaving it in the first place- etc I calmly asked her to just leave it alone and drop it, I’d take care of it but she didnt after 10 mins of her spewing on me I finally lost it and told her to get the fuck out of my office if she doesn’t like it. That I’m tired of the hostility and it’s clear she didn’t actually want to fix this. She kept asking me to lower my volume while telling me why she is right, brining up everything from the prior week. I did not lower my volume I got louder and more upset till she goes to bed and I sleep on the couch again. Monday: we argue more. The general mood is “how could I blow up on her on Mother’s Day.” That she is done etc. as soon as she can financially leave she will. I said why wait and asked her to stay with her mother for a few days- she refused to, so I left to a hotel room. Today was more of the same: not accepting that she had a part in the argument. That I just freaked out over her asking me to clean up. We have eventually agreed to give therapy a shot but here I sit, in my hotel room. Contemplating life I can’t help but feel we gave it our best but we were doomed to fail. I really don’t want to lose my family. but neither of us can take the current state anymore. What does the world of Reddit think?

So I made this comment to another person's post recently about her feeling annoyed at the teachestudent relationship in Maxton Hall and that it wasn't being properly addressed as toxic. I agree. But that's hardly my only issue with the show. Because a lot of really young people are into these genres, I feel the need to address these points as someone who's actually lived the Ruby/James storyline, different ways and multiple times. A veteran, one might say. You can take my statements as a grain of salt, or whatever you like, but may those who have ears listen:
Spoilers throughout if someone hasn't finished the season:
This is the thing...I actually find the lead actors cute and super talented even despite this being a genre that I find deplorably predictable and drab. I actually only got invested to improve my German, sadly now I'm actually invested in the characters at this point despite me seeing everything that's going to happen a mile away, because a lot of these writers who may actually be creative but stifle it for the sake of hashing out another "proven to make money" storyline that has been recreated time and time again. Yes, the teachestudent situation is problematic not because they're both consenting individuals who or of age, but because apparently they knew each long before which hints that she would've most likely have been a minor when the relationship took form. Maybe people who have read the books can shed better light on the matter.
Beyond that, my biggest issue with these common bad boy meets good girl trope shows beyond how oversaturated the romance world is with these stories (damn, not even a reversal like good boy meets bad girl), is the very negative expectations they put on real girls out there. These stories fuel the idea that they "can fix him" and even those overly toxic traits he possesses should be downplayed in some way, and even the slightest redeemable qualities he shows should be made out as holy. This is one of the large reasons I hate this genre. For example, despite James's slight transition in S1 (and yes, I'm fully aware that he will most likely continue to change for the better in some ways), to say I think Ruby deserves better is an understatement. Women/girls keep fawning over the swimming pool scene where he saves Ruby, but I was honestly pissed at him for this whole catastrophic scenario and how it unfolded. Firstly, he invited her to this godforsaken hive of scum and villainy of a party despite him knowing full well this is not normally her scene, ignores Ruby's actualized fears of pupils teasing hedisliking her for being with James, and gives her an invitation into the lion's den thinking she'll come out unscathed? For someone who hints at himself having an impressive GPA, I'm not impressed by his lack of logical deduction. When viewed from this perspective, the blame of Ruby getting pushed into the pool and being triggered into a panic attack that nearly got her drowned largely rests on James's shoulders, especially as one of the sole people at that party claiming to "care" about her. Despite this, no open moment from James of reflection of responsibility for what took place there and nothing even remotely resembling an apology not even the following morning of the incident, but rather even gave off the impression that it wasn't even that big of a deal. He sent a text asking if she was doing better (not even the first text the following morning, mind you), and that was the end of that. Not a question or care more before a slew of flirting between the two. Of course, at that point Ruby is already infatuated with him, so it makes little difference. But to someone from the outside looking in, the selfishness and ambivalence is glaringly obvious.
It's an ongoing theme in S1 that apparently getting apologies out of James is like pulling teeth (another highly toxic masculinity trait that we need to stop treating with humor or something "enduring" when interest is involved). I believe I counted him saying it only twice in the last episodes and it was always backed by some sort of excuse "but I did it because I was embarrassed by my parents...sorry, but I can't...my father...etc." In reality he's been needing to give proper apologies since the show began, but the moment he finally formulates the words, it's always accompanied by some excuse? Immaturity. What was the topper on the cake for me and an ultimate red flag (yes, yes...it's fantasy, a show...but in real life, run for the hills), he continues to take decisions that should normally involve both of them, into his own hands and gravely gauging her whims wrongly in these situations. First with the poster of them, then again ending the relationship in order to "protect" her. He's very creative at finding solutions when it's getting back at Ruby for things in the beginning, but now he's just willing to throw in the towel anytime he has to fight for their relationship? Again questioning his logical capabilities and even his intentions at this point. Perhaps it's actually just rooted in him being afraid of commitment after a life of whoring himself out to hush people up or a slew of one night stands which has left him detached? If not, as I suspect it isn't, a form of self-sabotage due to his father's hold on him. I know it's most likely the latter, and as relatable and sad as that may be, this is catastrophic and needs therapy to get resolved. Rose-tinted romance isn't going to fix that (trust me, speaking from experience, girlies). And to make matters worse, I can read the handwriting on the wall from the last episode ending, that James is liable to take matters into his own hands again and hurt Ruby because he keeps trying to decide what HE thinks is best for HER life. I'm not a teen or in my early twenties watching this show, so I tend to view these from a mother hen type of perspective. If you see a guy like James Beaufort, it might be entertaining on TV or film, but in REAL life, run for the hills unless you have written proof he's attending therapy and counselling for his issues and start seeing a difference. My interest in the show is starting to wane after already guessing (like most things in this show and others of its genre) what's coming next season...such as James getting cold feet, taking executive control of their relationship again and bailing...very sure. I don't even need to read the books for that. I've lived this, girlies.
Hopefully, the writers exceed my expectations and do something unexpected. As I said in another post, it wouldn't be the most drastic of plot twists, but make the chauffeur the old flame James's mother was alluded to and have James secretly be his kid, which would give light on why he acts like a father figure (or at least the closest positive one James has) and his passionate defense of James. That would maybe keep me invested and one my toes knowing there are actually all these secrets being unraveled. Okay, anyway, that's my rant on this. That was waaay too long. Bye.

Asgard 1827
The Trial of Asgard made national news in Valhalla . Brunhilde stood there in front of many gods, each vote determining her faith . Does she live or die ? Only odin can make that judgment. Heimdall opened a pamphlet speaking though his horn “ Brunhilde, eldest sister of the gods ! You stand accused of crimes against Humanity and Goding alike ! How do you plead ? “. Brunhilde rolled her eyes before speaking her mind . “How do I plead ? What crimes are you talking about ? I was making coffee before me and Randgriz were arrested on the spot “ she spoke out . “ Don't play dumb Brunhilde I saw you cast forbidden spells and illegal magic “ Odin told everyone. Despite the bold straight up lie hilde remained as calm as ever . Using magic and spells is more for Gondul and she is too smart to get caught. What did Odin really want and why is he dragging Randgriz of all demigods.“Nonsense ! My sister would never so such a ““SILENCE “ Odin shouted but Randgriz stood her ground ready to face death itself to protect Brunhilde. Meanwhile in another area. Loki used his blades to slice the doors open splitting them in half. Beelzebub was in the middle of an experiment his red eyes shooting at loki. “This better be good “ he whispered. “It is Brunhilde and Randgriz lives are a stake during the trial “ Loki spat out in a panicked state . “ Why should I care about some demigod's life when I don't even care about my own? “ Beel questioned. “It's because I know you hate Odin and would do anything to spite him how dare he label you as a freak when he is just as bad “ Loki answered “ Hurry we are running out of time ! “ . “What do you get out of this ? “ Beel stood up . “ I owe Brunhilde a favor “ A flashback of small Loki almost getting eaten by a giant snake until Brunhilde saved him by slicing it in half with a scythe
. “Be more careful child “ she turned around seeing the scared loki shiver .
The flash back ended with Brunhilde standing off to Odin . “Confess your crime or serve death “ A purple hue spear floated over him. “ I choose death, “ Brunhilde replied. “ Brun no ! “ Randgriz screamed buy it was too late . The spear launched at her body with such force blood she was pushed back to the wall. Brunhilde refused to give up despite all the pain seeping into her. “ This is the end of the road valkyrie…” Odin whispering. The last thing she saw was the gods demonic smile before everything faced to black.
“Is she alive ? “
“Wait “
“What if he killed her ? “
“Wait “
“ Is she dead ?”
“I will slap you “
“Yikes chill emo “
Brunhilde woke up in the lab with purple ,red and green eyes staring at her. “ What just happened…” Brunhilde felt a tight hug from Randgriz “ You are alive! “ Grizz cried out. “Yes …I am …” Brunhilde realized. “However at a price ….” Beel commented . “What did you do demon? “ Brunhilde hissed . “ Weird way of thanking someone for saving your life “ Beel brushed that comment off. The valkyrie gave him a weird look , “ Don't mention it I only did it to piss off Odin “ Beel shrugged. “Wait Mr Beel what “price “ are you talking about ? “ Grizz asked. “Oh well being a demigod you are more human then god now “ Loki jumped in stuttering at every word. “Meaning you can't fly , super strength and speed is gone, no more soul connection or anything that would make you a valkyrie “ Loki explained some more “ I had to do something to get Beel to save your life “. “ I'm not mad Loki “ Brunhilde took a deep breath “ This is just a sign that I need to leave asgard now …” Brunhilde stated . “I'm coming with you “ Randgriz sat next to her “ If I stay I'm dead Valkyrie walking “. “Plus it's no longer possible to survive here, however despite losing most of your powers there is still a place for you “ Beel mentioned “ Loki will take you “ . “Wait, what about our sisters ! “ Randgriz started to cry . Loki and Beelzebub looked at each other. “ We will figure that part out but remember if Odin catches wind they die too “ Loki pointed out . “Yes but faking our deaths still sounds horrible, “ Randgriz shook her head. “ Alright I'll do something you will see them again soon “ Beel told her “ Overall you both need to leave as soon as possible “ . “Follow me there is not much time “ Loki used his magic to make a portal . The scenery revealed a large Eiffel tower and people walking by . “ Once we step in there is no going back “ Randgriz shivered. “We don't have a choice “ Brunhilde stepped in holding Randgriz hand to help her . “Even if we never meet again Lord Loki, thank you for saving my life “ Brunhilde bowed down. “ No Brunhilde…thank you for saving mine “ Loki smiled, closing the portal. “So this is our new home “ Randgriz looked around seeing things that just aren't familiar anymore .
5 years later 1832
Late in the afternoon at the Salle Pleyel concert there was the sound of the piano . The fast paced music made everyone in the area cheer . The musician had blonde brown hair that passed his ears . He waved it back and forth like a rockstar smashing his keyboards so hard you would think he broke them. The crowd cheered his name “LISZT LISZT LISZT LISZT “ , fangirls jumped up and down going crazy over him . Brunhilde and Randgriz sat down in chairs watching the man go , “ His music is very rough and insane ..reminds me of home listening to vikings “ Brunhilde mentioned. “ I don't know who is making me more deaf the music or the annoying girls “ Randgriz covered her ears, “If it's too much for you then why did you bother coming? “ Brunhilde gave her a look. “ I don't wanna be alone “ Grizz admitted, “By the way ,..why are you wearing a suit “ Brunhilde wondered . “ The human women show too much window and well sister you don't show just the window the entire frame is gone leaving only thin fabric “ Randgriz gave her honest opinion. “ I don't need a lesson on modesty “ Brunhilde focused her attention on Liszt who kept playing . His piercing green eyes gave her a wink . “Was he winking at me ? “ Brunhilde turned to Randgriz. “Probably or at the other women fawning over him “ Grizz stated . “Yeah you're right “ Brunhilde relaxed some more “Not like I care he is a massive playboy breaking one heart after another I'm not going to fall for that plus I'm not a noble “. “You are right Hilde you aren't..you are a demigod , from our divine perspective human nobility is just fancy talk for commoner” Grizz whispered.
“ Randy shhhh we aren't in Valhalla anymore “ Brun reminded her , “ If looks could kill you would be a serial killer by now “ Randgriz laughed “ I mean I'm not wrong if an Archduke came to Valhalla and started bossing everyone he would be laughed at “. That comment made by a few folks behind her gave the sisters an irritated glare . “Shhh “ a man right next to Randgriz silenced her with his white glove .The concert ended leaving Liszt to step off the stage . He was quickly surrounded by fans causing Brunhilde to leave until she felt something hit her. Behind her was a red rose , she picked it up seeing the musician wave at her before being surrounded by more fans . “Come on Brunhilde let's go, I don't like parties “ Randgriz dragged her out towards the concert halls . “Oof I'm sorry “ she accidentally bumped into the same guy that sat next to him. He was a short guy with a big nose that spoke with a thick polish accident. “Sorry I'm looking for a man named Liszt “ he mentioned. “Down the hallway but you are going to have to wait in line “ Brunhilde pointed to the left before leaving . The man thanked her before walking in that direction, “He is very cute “ Randgriz thought. “Eh …okay let's go home “ she walked with Randgriz.
A few days later Brunhilde went back to the same concert alone this time to attend a mass . There she sat down reading the holy Bible while waiting for the preacher . “ Excuse me, is this seat taken? “ a familiar voice spoke to her . Brunhilde turned around, seeing the face once again. “Are you Franz Liszt ? “she asked while watching him sit down. “Yes “ Liszt confirmed sitting next to her “ Nice to meet you “ . “ Yeah I see ..” Brunhilde stuck her head back in the Bible. “Sorry if I was bothering you “ Liszt apologized getting ready to leave . “No you weren't, I just have a lot on my mind “ Brunhilde sighed. “Oh ..I hope the church can relax you ..lift those spirits up “ Liszt gave a warm smile. “Yeah” Brunhilde half smiled back , “So where are you from? I've never seen you around? “ he questioned. “Oh I'm from - “ Brunhilde tried to think of an answer. “Don't tell me your from heaven? “ Liszt answered "Wait how did you -”Brunhilde's face turned red from the blushing. “ “ Relax I was just kidding c Liszt chuckled . “Oh right …hahaha” Brunhilde joined the laughter

***I posted this originally in but think this might be a better place for it
TLDR: I'm struggling to understand if my relationship issues are genuine concerns or my past influencing my perception. My boyfriend (29M) and I (25F) have been dating long-distance for 10 months. He initially talked a lot about our future, including plans to get a place together, but has since become non-committal and distant. Given my history with a narcissistic parent, I'm unsure if these are red flags or typical relationship hurdles. I'm worried he's "future faking" me. Any advice on discerning these issues would be appreciated. ___________________________
Sorry this is so long - It's clearly weighing heavy on my mind and I also have a habit of overexplaining myself due to my past. Believe it or not, this was my attempt to keep it short.
As someone raised by a single narcissistic parent, I (25F) have a lot of difficulty in figuring out if my perception is accurate or if I'm misinterpreting things. I've spent years working on this in therapy and have made progress in figuring out when I'm being treated poorly, specifically in platonic relationships, but have still a ways to go.
Recently, I've gotten into a relationship with my bf (29M) after having been single for 5 years. The person I've started dating proactively chased me during this time and I was clear that I wanted to be just friends due to concerns about long-distance, feeling overwhelmed with the interest they had in me without knowing me super well, and feeling like my boundaries weren't being respected. Over those 5 years, we developed a strong friendship/relationship and these issues resolved (except for the long-distance). I had a major life event happen in 2023 that had me questioning how much of my life I had lived in fear and avoidance. Simultaneously, this person was a huge support to me while I went through this difficult moment. I decided I was ready to pursue a romance with him and he agreed he wanted to too. So we started officially dating roughly 10 months ago.
In the beginning of our relationship, he would make tons of comments about our future together, talking about our kids, what life would be like when we're married, trips that we would take, etc. I was hesitant in the beginning to believe this, but slowly started to imagine this future too and would join in these conversations. I had never dated someone who so openly talked about a future with me and while it felt scary in the beginning, I started to feel like it was a beautiful thing and I was experiencing healthy love.
Back in January, he started to talking to me about getting a place in my city. Although we're long distance, he has to come to my city fairly often for business reasons and likes to extend his stays to spend time with me. I initially thought he just meant something for himself that he would stay in when he was in my city. This wasn't super surprising since he has an apartment in another city sitting completely empty and he was talking about getting a place in another city for when he'd visit before we started dating. To be clear, he has vast financial resources. Like hundreds of millions.
I was excited that he was going to get a place in my city, because I knew it would make him more comfortable when he'd visit and therefore make his visits more likely. However, he clarified to me a week later that he actually wanted to get a place for the both of us - where I would stay full time and he would stay when he was visiting. He was surprised that I thought this would just be his place. I thought about it and got excited at the idea (although I had some concerns about living alone for those periods he wasn't there - I've always had roommates and have loved it honestly).
Once I agreed, he said he wanted to start looking at places when he was visiting my city for a few weeks that February. I started to look at places online and have conversations with him about what we'd both want. February came, he didn't make any effort or mention of seeing places in person. My roommates started to ask me if I'd be renewing the lease with them or not and I told them I wasn't sure. I'd periodically bring it up to him and emphasize that we probably need to start looking and make serious progress on it. He would agree, but I wouldn't hear anything more about it. Finally, I told him I needed to give my roommates a final answer about it. He said that I should renew the lease with them so that we're not rushed into finding something and can find the perfect place. He said it was okay if the leases overlapped, assuring me that it wouldn't be a problem and he'd cover it financially. I was hesitant, but given his vast wealth, I figured this was just one of those rich people things where comfort is prioritized over wastefulness.
He has not brought it up since. Recently, I had felt some distance from him. He wasn't as communicative. He flaked on a vacation we were supposed to go on during my spring break at the last minute due to a conference he wanted to attend. He was vague about when he would be able to visit next, saying that I could visit him whenever even though he knew I was in school until May. He invited me to go to a friend's wedding in a far away state in late April, but said he figured I wouldn't be able to go because he knew I had finals. I decided to make it work by flying in for 48 hours despite having finals. While we were together in person, it didn't seem like anything was wrong at all. I decided to talk to him about some of these concerns and mentioned the apartment. He said that he wanted to find the perfect place for us and not stress about it. I told him that I get that, but we need to take action in order to find the perfect place. He said that there's no rush. I pointed out he said he wanted to start looking at places in February, so it seemed like he wanted to get a place fairly soon, but I was feeling confused because since those early talks, I've been the only one to talk to him about it. I told him that it felt like he didn't want to get a place with me anymore. He said that he does want to still but when he brought it up to me, he meant he wanted to get a place in the future and there's no timeline. In his head, it will happen eventually and I shouldn't be worried (????? WTF). Anyways, I decided to drop it and give him the benefit of the doubt.
He also early on told me how excited he was for when we go to his home country, how we'll go in the next year, how he needs to take me there. A week or two ago, an opportunity came up where he would be in a nearby country for business and I would be on a break from school. We talked about me going with him and then going to his home country after for a bit. Yesterday, I asked him about it and he started to express doubts, saying he's never taken a girl home before... Keep in mind: 1) I have already met his parents and brothers more than once. 2) This man has only dated one other person, and it was in high school. 3) This man has been talking about taking me there as soon as its convenient since we started dating.
I'm worried given my past with parental narcissistic abuse and having my perception constantly questioned/invalidated that I'm not able to identify red flags unless they're really severe or different from what I experienced growing up. Prior to this relationship, I always pursued men that were emotionally distant and whose love I had to earn because it felt safer (and mirrored my relationship with my absent parent). This is the first time I've dated someone who consistently showed interest in me. I thought this was healthier and that I was recalibrating my dating patterns, but now I'm starting to have doubts. I'm feeling like I can't trust his word anymore. I'm starting to wonder if he's been future faking me.
What do you guys think? Any tips on what I should be looking out for in the future? Or how you can know with certainty that there might be love bombing/future faking before things get worse? I don't want to find myself in a position years down the line in an abusive or toxic relationship and realize that there were signs I missed/ignored earlier on. I also don't want to ruin a happy and healthy relationship because I'm making mountains out of mole hills.

Hey everyone,
I'm gonna just spill everything that's going on, and rant and I'd appreciate it if I could hear it from insight or advice from some people!! Thank you! I'm a guy (18) btw and my ex is a girl (18)
So me and my ex broke up about a month and a half ago. She brought it up with me about mid march out of the blue and said that her mental health was real bad and she didn't want it affecting our relationship, which is fair, I told her let's give it a month, let's try and work everything out, told her to maybe try therapy and let's try communicating and work it out because I loved her so much. After that it was thin ice for the rest of march, I tried so hard and she was just being distant. I stayed over the Easter weekend and she told me that she just doesn't see it working and wants the break up, I was like ok that's fine if that's what you need to do. While she was out of her house at work that weekend I was chilling at hers waiting for my own shift to start, I got curious and remembered she'd had a diary. The diary was a set boundary and I knew never to open it or read it, but in my mind at the time I thought what if there was something in there that could maybe help or understand her state of mind better yah know? When I did read the most recent entry I wish I didn't, she wrote some things that I won't disclose but she wrote that she had developed a crush on a guy in her uni class and that she was questioning "what if" Because they had similar interests and she believed that was something that we lacked (which honestly we didn't really, our childhoods are very similar, our humour is similar, the only things we didn't really have in common was a slight difference in music taste and TV shows etc but that never really bothered me) anyway at the end of the entry and she said "I won't act on it though". That whole weekend she was secretive about her phone, which she never was and "went to the toilet alot" we also went to have a shower after work and she left her phone open on the bathroom counter I picked it up and she freaked out, grabbing it and turning it off, when I questioned the reaction she said she had embarrassing photos she'd taken recently of herself and didn't want me to see them. Righttttt..... she left the room for a minute and left her phone and I ended up opening the conversation between her and this guy on her intsa and only saw the most recent message where he asked how everything was going, she replied with "it seems OK, everything seems mutual but I think everything's gonna be ok" something along the lines of that. I ended up telling her that I read her diary because I couldn't keep that to myself, she left the room hurt for about 10 minutes and when she came back I told her I also read her messages with the guy her face dropped like she had to explain something, but when I told her that I only saw the most recent one she seemed relieved. She ended up ignoring me for the rest of the night and going to sleep, I tried going on her phone after she feel asleep but she took my fingerprint and face id off, I didn't know her password unfortunately. The next day I stayed until I had work later in the afternoon but never mention anything because I didn't really think of it. For the first few days of the breakup we were still talking but then she randomly switched on me because I wasn't giving her space, giving me the cold shoulder etc. I ended up adding the dude on insta and messaging him, I found out through him that she was confiding in him and she was telling him our relationship problems, things she's never told me. I asked him to relay a message to her for me at uni and he did, she wasn't happy, she ended up massaging me and sending me a long paragraph where she doesn't really wanna interact with me anymore etc. I begged her to give me a 2nd chance just the usual shit you do and she was unresponsive and didn't seem to care at all, after our conversation she posted a new post on insta and the first picture was her and this dude next to eachother at a party, not sitting next to eachother but close enough. I've talked with some female friends and they've told me she's was emotionally cheating on me and yeah she was, whether she sees it like that or not. I never knew anything about this guy and their relationship tbh, I knew of his existence and that he recently went through a bad break up but other then that, nothing. I thought maybe she didn't tell me because of my insecurities etc and I also thought that she talked him for advice because he knew what she was going through but now that I look back I'm not to sure.
I was at a mates place 2 weeks ago and he told me that he thinks he saw her on tinder, he wasn't sure tho, we ended up making a new account on his phone and sure enough she was. Why was she on tinder if she's getting this attention from another guy? She also posted songs on her insta note which were clearly aimed at me, she also posted a song which was clearly aimed at me to make me jealous, the song is basically about a man and a women and how good they'd be together. Since then she's acted like I don't exist, but something that really got to me is that I saw one of her highschool friends where I work and she was telling me that they were at a catch up that my ex was present at and didn't speak bad about me, she told her friends that she broke up but when they all started a conversation about how hard uni was she mentioned and seemed quite chirpy at the fact that I recently got into uni. (I applied for uni after the break up and posted it on my socials when I got in) why act happy for me that I got into uni after being a cold bitch after the break up?
We ended up talking again recently because I needed a favour from her and she told me that when we broke up it was because her mental health wasn't good for us, but then she said that she didn't like the way she was treated during and after the relationship, she said that I destroyed her self worth because I made comments and my temper was bad. All of these things were at the start of the relationship and when I noticed it was hurting her I took a step back and stopped these actions, I apologised, worked on it and changed. It's like she was nit picking things and people have told me it's because she feels guilty but also because she's avoiding accountability.
She recently had a family member pass away and I messaged her my condolences after about 2 - 3 weeks of no contact and she said thank you, but after that I'm done. I hate the way I was treated and she's made me feel like shit and made me feel like some kind of monster with the things she said. With all of this do you think she'll come around and realise that she was not nice to me at all? I've also had a friend tell me that she'll realise that the grass wasn't greener and try to come back to me but to not let myself be an option. She said when she's ready she might reach out and we can catch up for coffee and be friends but if she doesn't start the conversation with an apology I know she hasn't done anything to reflect or change. But essentially will she come around and realise she wasn't nice at all and apologise or is this whole ordeal a sinking ship? I've been taking therapy and I'm in a better position then I was a month ago and I still get thoughts about her and miss her but I'm getting over it with the way she treated me.
Thanks for listening to my Ted talk and thanks for reading this big ass rant. Oh we were together for a year and 3 months if that helps with anything either. Thanks. Also Jan and February were fine and then in march she became distant. Thanks again.

I accidentally posted this to my username instead of my subreddit so here is is:
The Mortgage, Part 3
“Fuck,” I said as I drove to work in the old beater that only started on the fourth try because it could tell that I was pissed off. Ray’s case started at two o’clock, and I was heading to the office to get ready. “Fuck fuck fuckity fucking fuck. Fuck.” I’d wanted to tell Angela about Ray’s case, and how I was sorry that I hadn’t wanted to help him, but now I would, I would help him, and I would win, but then I’d gotten her all riled up on something else, something totally different, something way more serious.
My wife had given me a triple ultimatum: fix things up with her father, save idiot Ray from Sy-Co Corp., and somehow find a downpayment for the place she wanted to buy, in the little townhouse infill project in Bixity. It was like demanding I do a double bank shot, and then run over to the baseball diamond and hit a home run after first pointing to where it would land, Babe Ruth style.
Angela was mad at me, seriously mad. She’d slipped out that morning before I was even awake, sliding quietly past me on the couch. I didn’t realize she was gone until I heard the faint click of the front door closing. I jumped up, tripped over a blanket, and by the time I got up and my robe on, the elevator down the hall dinged, and Angela was gone before I opened the apartment door.
I swore at myself some more and pounded the steering wheel, “I fucked up,” I said, several times as I hit the wheel over and over again, until I accidentally honked it, and then looked all sheepish when the guy in front of me gave me the finger. I reached my office without further incident, but instead of walking in the front door, I went further down the hall, and into the office of Mark Cecil-Rowe, Barrister, LL.D, the man with the finest speaking voice I ever heard. When I entered his office I forgot for a minute about Angela and her father and sleeping on the couch the night before. I forget about everything, except the reason that I had come to Cecil-Rowe’s office: to stump him with a legal problem that I had solved, but which I was pretty sure he could not. In other words, I had come to preen and to brag and to boast. No one likes a showoff, and I had come to show off. I put my hand on the door and turned the knob. After a brief pause, I flung open the door.
“I’m a goddamn genius,” I said as I strolled into the older man’s office.
I noticed the echo of a hastily closed desk drawer hanging in the air. In Aaron’s office, where I rented space, a sudden act of concealment implied cocaine, but with Cecil-Rowe, the item in question was probably a mickey of vodka. I had the sense that he’d been drinking a bit before I arrived, but his powers of observation were unimpaired, and when he looked into my face, his expression showed sympathy, and actual pain.
“What have you done now?” he said, as set the papers before him to one side, and readied himself to hear my latest tale of legal brilliance.
“I’m a genius,” I said.
“Oh dear. Have a seat.”
“No really, I am. I’m a genius. I got this case that everyone says you can’t win, but I’m gonna win it, and when I do, I’m gonna look like a genius.” Cecil-Rowe gave me a sad indulgent smile.
“Whenever you tell me you’re a genius, I am always concerned about what is to follow. When you get wrapped up in what you call your genius, you tend to ignore the more mundane things we lawyers have to do to win a case. You think you’re going to win by genius alone.”
“Let me tell you why I’m a goddamn genius.” With effort I wiped the smug, self-satisfied expression that was on my face.
“Tell me why you’re a genius,” Cecil-Rowe said, “while I pour us a coffee.” He heaved his bulky body up from his chair and shuffled over to a counter. He picked up a carafe of hot coffee sitting on a hot plate, and poured two cups. “Speak,” he said, handing me one. I took a sip of the coffee, and told Cecil-Rowe the tale of Cousin Ray: his purchase of a franchise from Sy-Co Corp, its swift demise, the crash and burn in Commercial Court, the Minutes of Settlement, the seventy-one kilometer limit, and lastly, Sy-Co’s motion scheduled for two p.m. that very day, seeking an interim injunction shutting down Ray’s place.
Cecil-Rowe absorbed all this without the need to take notes. Instead, he sat back while he eyed me, taking the occasional sip of coffee, and smiling at the extravagant flourishes and details that brought out Ray’s story to full effect.
“Obviously Ray is dead on arrival,” he said, “but I guess this is the part where you tell me how you’re going to win.”
So I told him how I was going to win, but it didn’t have the desired effect. “I told ya I’m a genius, Mr. C,” cueing him to applaud, to admit what a brilliant lawyer I was. But there was no applause from Mark Cecil-Rowe. He looked at me without so much as a smile.
“You can cling to that genius notion as a consolation prize, after you get whipped this afternoon in court.”
“No way,” I said, “not a chance. I got this thing won hands down. I’m gonna kick ass in court today and--”
“And how exactly do you plan to do that, if you don’t have evidence?”
“What?”
“Evidence, Calledinthe9os. It’s what lawyers like me use to beat geniuses like you.”
“But I’m gonna win without proof. I don’t need proof. The argument I’m gonna make, relies on simple facts that are totally obvious, so the judge is gonna--” Cecil-Rowe stuck up his hand.
“Stop right there. I know what’s coming. You’re going to ask the judge to take *judicial notice.”
And he was right. That was exactly what I was going to do.
There are some things so obvious that you didn’t have to prove them, things that everyone knew. You didn’t have to prove that water froze at zero degrees and boiled at a hundred, or that Bixity was between West Bay and East Bay.
“You got it,” I said, “judicial notice all the way.”
“You’re going to tell the judge that the centerpiece of your argument, the lynchpin of your case is a fact known to pretty well everyone, and so you don’t need proof.”
“Exactly,” I said. Cecil-Rowe took another sip of his coffee, and left me hanging in the silence for a while before he spoke.
“If that’s true, then why does coming up with that argument make you a genius?”
“Oh, I said,”I didn’t think of that.”
“It is acceptable to rely on judicial notice for minor, ancillary points. But you never should walk into court thinking that the court will take judicial notice of your entire defence. It’s just too risky.”
“But how am I going to rustle up a witness in time for this afternoon?”
“Worry about that after you leave my office. I can’t help you with that. What I want to know, is why you’re doing this at the last minute.”
“What makes you think I’m doing this at the last minute?”
“Because you never would have resorted to judicial notice if you were properly prepared. If you’d opened this case a bit earlier, you’ve have everything lined up. But you got to work on it late, and so you want to rely on judicial notice. You’ve messed up, Calledinthe90s, and you know what my rule is when you mess up.” Cecil-Rowe didn’t extend aid to me, until I admitted the error of my ways. It was infuriating, but he was inflexible. So I fessed up.
“My idiot cousin Ray’s been trying to retain me for almost two weeks, but I was putting him off because I was mad at him. So now my wife’s mad at me, and if I don’t win this case, I’m dead. Plus her dad’s mad at me too and --” My brain roared into overdrive, a mess of family and law and fear, and at the centre of it, thoughts of Angela’s anger and her father. My mind took off, and then came to an instant halt at a helpful destination.
“Yes?” Cecil-Rowe said.
“Sorry. I just realized how to solve the evidence problem. Look, can I ask you about the thing I actually came here to ask you about?”
“You have a problem that’s worse than having no evidence? What could be worse than -- oh. You don’t have a retainer. Your client doesn't have any money.”
“Exactly. How do I get paid? That’s the problem.” I explained that Ray had no money, as in none, and that if he did have money, he wouldn’t spend it on me. Instead, he’d go back downtown and throw his cash at some big firm, who would take on his case, and proceed to lose it in a calm, careful, sober manner, ending in a reporting letter to Ray telling him that he’d lost.
“Now that’s a problem I can solve,” Cecil-Rowe said.
“Really? ‘Cause I can’t see a way around it. I think I’m gonna have to do this for free, and that really pisses me off.” Cecil-Rowe shook his head.
“You may or may not get paid, but you can set things up so that if you win, you’ll win pretty good.”
“How? Ray’s a deadbeat. Tapped out.”
“But is he desperate?”
“Totally. The first time he failed, he lost his own money, but if he goes under this time, he’s taking family money with him, and he’ll be the black sheep forever.”
“And he’s using family to emotionally blackmail you into helping him?’
“Like no shit. That’s the part that pisses me off the most. I’m like a goddamn slave, being forced to work for free.”
“Never fear, young apprentice. I have just the thing in mind.” He reached into a drawer, and pulled out a form. “Fill in the blanks, and have him sign.”
I looked it over, and saw that the document was a retainer agreement. I whistled. “Holy shit. If he signs this, he’s almost my slave.”
“Close, but not quite” Cecil-Rowe said, “the Latin term for this is "contractus pro venditione animae"”. It’s the ultimate retainer agreement. Once Ray signs that, you own any cause of action he has against the person suing him. You can settle the case on any terms you like, and you get to keep whatever proceeds there are.” Cecil-Rowe placed the folder back in a drawer, and from his manner you could tell that the interview was over.
“Awesome, Mr. C. I’ll call you from Commercial Court when we’re done.”
“Commercial Court?” he said.
“Yeah, Commercial Court.”
“This just keeps getting worse. Take notes, Calledinthe90s, while I school you on Commercial Court. Commercial Court is a jungle, and without preparation, you’ll get savaged.”
“That’s what happened to Ray when--”
“Take notes, young apprentice,” he said, tossing me a pad and a pen. He started to lecture, and I took notes that I have with me to this day, in a safe deposit box downstairs in the vault at Mega Bank Main Branch.
* * *
By the time Cecil-Rowe finished schooling me, it was close to ten, and the case started at two. I didn’t have much time. I ran down the hall to my office, and called Ray’s restaurant. No answer. Then I called Ray’s house. I expected to get Ray’s wife, but the man himself answered.
“You’re not at work. Why aren’t you at work?”
“Sy-Co Corp served all my employees with a cease and desist letter. They all got scared and took off. The place is shut down.”
“You gotta fax machine at home?” He did, and asked why.
“I’m taking your case, but only if you sign the paper I’m about to send and fax it back.” I sent the fax, and five minutes later it came back signed, and it was official: Ray had sold me his legal soul.
I went out to the parking lot, got into my beater and drove fast. In less than thirty minutes I reached my destination. I knocked on the door, and when it opened, my diminutive mother-in-law poked out her head. “What a pleasant surprise,” she said.
“Sorry, Mrs. M, but I’m in a super hurry. I gotta rush to get to court to help Ray. But first, I gotta speak to Dr. M.”
“He’s not here,” she said.
“Not here?”
“He’s on his way to his bridge game. He left just a few minutes ago.”
“Where’s the club?”
“He’s walking there,” she said, and pointed down the street.
“Thanks.” I got into my car and headed where Mrs. M had pointed, passing big houses and new project with an “Opening Soon” sign. And walking past it was the figure of Dr. M.
“Hey, Dr. M,” I called out the window. He stopped and looked around, startled. But he didn’t see me, not at first.
“It’s me, Dr. M. Me, Calledin90s.” He leaned forward as if to see me better. I got out of the car.
“Is something wrong with Angela? Or the baby?”
“No, no not at all, sorry to scare you, it’s nothing like that. I need your help.”
“Oh.” He started walking again, and now it was my turn to be a bit stunned, watching my father-in-law walk away from me. I caught up with him in a few quick strides.
“Listen, I really need your help.”
“And I really need to get to a bridge game.”
“This isn’t about me. It’s about Ray.” That brought him to a halt. He turned to me, angrier even than he’d been the night before.
“Did you drive all the way out here just to make fun of me? To remind me of how you won, distracting me with nonsense about Ray’s case?”
“I mean it,” I said, “I can win Ray’s case. I can prove it in a few words.”
“Prove it, then.” So I did. I spoke words, only a few words, but they were the right words to speak to Dr. M, for the words I spoke were in his language, words that he understood perfectly.
“I understand,” he said, “you’ve come to boast some more, to prove that you were right after all.”
“I want to win Ray’s case, but I don’t have any proof of what I’m saying.”
“You don’t need to prove that two plus two is four.”
“This, I gotta prove, and I need you to help me prove it. I need you to come to court with me, as my witness.”
“I can’t do that. I didn’t witness anything.”
“As my witness. My expert witness.” Unlike a normal witness, an expert witness can give an opinion. An expert is there not to advocate, I explained to Dr. M but to instruct, to teach.
“My bridge partner won’t be very happy,” he said.
“But Ray will, and so will Mrs. M and Angela and--”
“Very well. Do you have a cell phone? We can call the bridge club from my car.”
* * *
We were on the highway getting close to the downtown exit, when my wife called my cell phone. Back then cell phone service was super expensive and my wife only used it for emergencies. Or when she was really angry. I picked up the phone, wondering which it would be.
“I’m so happy that you made things up with my father,” she said.
“How did you know?”
“My mother called. She says you took him with you, that you went out together.”
“He’s with me right now,” I said.
“Where are you going?”
“To court. Going to court to win Ray’s case for him.”
“And you brought my father with you to watch?” She was so happy, I could hear in her voice that she was smiling. “That’s a great way to bond with him, Calledinthe90s. Look, I’m sorry I got so mad at you earlier, I really am. My dad’s a bit too sensitive and--”
“Sorry, Angela, your dad’s not coming to watch me.”
“Why is he with you, then?”
“He’s my witness,” I said.
“What?”
“His expert witness,” Dr. M said, loudly enough for Angela to hear.
My wife’s anger exploded into the phone. She wanted to know how I could expose her elderly, vulnerable father to the stress of a court case. I tried to tell her how I needed him, how there was literally no one else I could turn to, that her father was an expert, a true expert, and the judge was legally bound to believe him, but Angela heard none of this.
“Look,’ I said, “I promise you that--” And then I lowered the phone and pushed the red button, terminating the call. I’d learned that the best way to hang up on someone, was to do it when I was doing the talking. That way it looked like the call had dropped.
“I’m going to steal that move,” Dr. M said.
We rolled into the parking lot. I grabbed the cloth bag out of the back of my car, the bag that held my law robes and shirt and tabs, plus the other stuff I needed for court. It was one-thirty, still thirty minutes to go, not a lot of time to get robed and ready for court. It was just past one-forty five when I, with Dr. M in tow, opened the door to a courtroom on the eighth floor of an old insurance building that had been converted into a courthouse, the home of Commercial Court.
“Commercial Court is an exclusive club,” Cecil-Rowe had explained to me earlier that day, “the legal playground of the rich and powerful. They’ll know instantly that you’re not one of them.” And he was right. It was clear from the moment I walked in that I did not belong, for I was the only lawyer in robes. Everyone else was wearing a suit, and not some cheap thing off the rack like I wore.
There were a half-dozen lawyers present, and after they saw me, they exchanged knowing looks about the stranger amongst them. I ignored them, and walked up to the Registrar. I told him the case I was on, and he signed me in.
“First time in Commercial Court?” he said, eyeing my robes. “You know you don’t have to be robed in Commercial Court.” In other Superior Courts, you always had to bring your robes and get all dressed up. But Commercial Court had its own set of rules, and in the court for rich people, their lawyers did not have to wear robes.
“You’re here on the Sy-Co case?” a young woman asked. She was a junior like me, give a year or two either way. She was dressed in the finest downtown counsel fashion, some designer thing that Angela would know if she saw it.
“Just got retained,” I said.
“You know there’s no adjournments, right? We don’t do adjournments in Commercial Court. I’m just trying to be helpful, because I don’t think you've been here before. You know you don’t have to be robed, right?
“So I heard.”
“So where’s your material? You haven’t served anything, so how do you plan to argue your case?”
“I gotta witness,” I said.
She smiled. “There’s no viva voce evidence, either. Affidavit only.”
“We’ll see what the judge says.” There was a knock from the other side of the door to the judge’s chambers, and then the man himself entered.
I was amazed to see that even the judge wasn’t wearing a robe; instead, he was wearing a light coloured suit and a bright blue bow tie. He was dressed as good as the lawyers, all part of the downtown Commercial Court club, the playground of the richest and most powerful corporations in the City.
“Commercial Court’s not like other courts,” Cecil-Rowe told me earlier that day, explaining that most cases were over in fifteen minutes or less. A plaintiff showed up with some papers, and had a short consultation with the judge. The judge signed an order granting an injunction, or taking away a man’s business, or freezing his money. Commercial Court is where you went to get quick and simple court orders that eviscerated your opponent before the case even got going.
Defendants would appear sometimes in Commercial Court, Cecil-Rowe explained, but it was usually their last time up. Defendants always died a quick death in Commercial Court.
The judge took his seat, and then looked over the lawyers before him. His eyes moved along, and then stopped when they reached me, the one lawyer who was not like the others.
“You don’t need robes in Commercial Court,” the judge said to me.
“I’ll remember that for next time,” I said.
“What case are you on?”
I told him.
“He’s filed no responding materials,” my opponent said, “nothing at all.”
“I’m just vetting the list,” the judge said, “I’ll circle back to you two in a few minutes.” I listend while the judge vetted the rest of the afternoon list: a Mareva, plus a Norwich order, with counsel on those cases sent away in a matter of minutes.
Now the courtroom was almost empty, just the judge, two lawyers, the registrar and my star witness and father-in-law, Dr. M, who sat in the back of the courtroom dressed in an old business suit, put on hastily at his place two hours earlier, when I urged him to hurry it up, to not waste so much time on picking a suit.
“Back to you,” the judge said, addressing my opponent, “I thought this was an uncontested matter. That’s what your confirmation sheet said.”
“I’m sorry, Your Honour, but I didn’t know until I got here that the case was defended.”
“I got retained at the last minute,” I said, “barely three hours ago, the day after I read the papers. But I’m ready to go, ready to argue the case on the merits, so long as you grant me an indulgence, and let me call my witness, to let him testify in person instead of by affidavit, there being no time for me to draft anything.”
Opposing counsel was on her feet. “That’s not how things are done in Commercial Court,” she said, “or any court that I know of, for that matter. My friend (that’s what they make lawyers call each other in court, ‘my friend,’ even though you might hate the other guy’s guts),” the lawyer said, “my friend should have served his responding materials and filed them with the court. Instead, he’s taken us totally by surprise.”
“I’m sorry my friend is surprised by opposition,” I said, “but then consider, it’s my client’s livelihood that’s at stake. If my friend gets her injunction, Ray Telewu’s business is dead, and he loses everything. So yes, my client opposes the injunction, and yes, I’d like to call evidence.”
The judge didn’t consult the papers before him nor the books, but instead, he looked up at the big white clock on the courtroom wall. Its hands said two-fifteen.
“How long will your witness take, counsel?”
“In chief, ten minutes.” I’d practiced with Dr. M on the way in, and I was pretty sure he could do it in five, but I gave him a bit of extra time, just in case.
“We’ve got about two hours,” the judge said, “but I want to be fair to you and your client. Let’s take a fifteen minute recess so you can get instructions. Either we go ahead today with viva voce evidence, or we adjourn, and that will give Calledinthe90s time to file responding materials.”
When everyone came back, the junior’s boss was there, Senior Counsel, a heavy weight, one of those big guys downtown. Plus they brought this guy from Sy-Co Corp, the head of some bullshit division, with some bullshit title, Head of whatever, so that’s the title I’ll give him here. He was The Head. He was the man, the big cheese, the signer of the affidavit on which Sy-Co relied that day.
“What’s he doing here?” I asked Senior Counsel.
He stared at me, all lean and steel grey, looking every inch the hard hitting lawyer that commanded the biggest fees. “If you’re calling a live witness, then so can we. The Head will give evidence today, in advance of your client, so that the judge hears it from him first.” His junior smirked at me, and the two of them sat down, delighted that they’d thought of a way to one up me.
Except that they’d done it by exposing their client to cross-examination. The judge came in, allowed the Head to testify, and when he was done, I stood up.
“Just a few questions,” I said. Senior Counsel was stunned for an instant, and then he stood.
“This serves no purpose, Your Honour. The witness has confirmed the simple facts of his affidavit, and there’s no disputing it. Ray Telewu opened a restaurant less than seventy-one kilometres from Bixity City Hall, and that’s in breach of the Minutes of Settlement he signed.”
I did not bother to respond. Instead, I just stood, and I started to ask questions.
“Have a look at that map in your affidavit,” I said, and he did. I picked up my copy, and tore the map out of it. I passed it up to him.
“What do you notice about this map?”
“That it’s accurate,” the Head said, repeating his evidence in chief, amplifying it, talking about how the map contained perfect measurement.
“You will notice that the map is flat,” I said, laying it on the witness box before him.
“Of course it’s flat. That’s what maps are. Maps are flat.”
“But the earth is round,” I said, “or more properly, a sphere.” Senior Counsel was on his feet in an instant.
“What difference does that make?” he said.
“What you’ll hear from my expert witness, is that a flat map cannot accurately show Earth’s curves. A flat map distorts distances, and in this case, reduces them.”
“But that can’t be by very much.”
“In this case, by just over twenty meters,” Dr. M said from the back of the court.
“That’s my expert witness, the esteemed Dr. M.” I didn’t actually say Dr. M. Instead, I said his real name. But I’m not going to use the real names of my family here, so I’ll just keep calling him Dr. M. “Dr. M was a professor of Physics at the University of Bixity for almost thirty years. He has published numerous papers on particle physics, and is the first Canadian winner of the Wolf Prize for physics.”

• * * *

It went downhill after that for Sy-Co Corp. My father-in-law testified, explaining in simple language, language that even a child could understand, that the Earth was a sphere, that the shortest distance between two points on Earth was a curve, not a straight line. He summarized his calculations in plain English, dumbing down the math, so that everyone present imagined, if only for the moment, that they shared his understanding of a difficult mathematical equation.
Senior Counsel tried to cross-examine Dr. M, but it did not go well, my father-in-law indulging him, gently chiding him, continuing his explanations until the lawyer sat down, defeated by Dr. M’s mastery of the subject,his own lack of preparation and his inability to improvise. When counsel said that he had no further questions, the judge addressed us all.
“I’m not going to reserve, and I don’t think I need to tell everyone why. I think it will take about a minute for me to write a decision saying that the Earth is not flat. I’ll give you some more time after that, but after fifteen minutes, I”ll be back to render my decision.” He rose, everyone bowed, and he disappeared behind the door to judge’s chambers.
I pulled a piece of paper out of my file, and slammed it on the desk before Senior Counsel and his junior. “Fill in the blanks, and sign,” I said.
Dr. M’s head shot up at the commotion, and he shuffled over to see what was going on.
“What’s this?” Senior Counsel said, picking up the paper I gave him..
“Minutes of Settlement. You fill in a number, a big number, for the costs you gotta pay me. Your client signs, and then we’re done.” Senior Counsel opened his mouth to bargain, but I overrode him.
“You know your client’s going to lose; the judge made that obvious. Hurry up if you want to settle; we don’t have much time.”
At the end of most Canadian court cases, the loser has to pay at least part of the winner’s legal fees. That’s the way it’s been since forever, and I think it’s a good rule. Sy-Co Corp had lost, so it had to pay a good chunk of Ray’s costs, and Ray’s costs were somewhere between whatever bullshit figure I claimed they were, and where they actually ought to be. Senior Counsel took the paper over to his client. There was a brief discussion, and then they came back, with the form signed, and a number written in the blank space.
I’ll give it to Sy-Co Corp and their lawyer. It wasn’t a bullshit number, a low ball number. They gave me a real number, a number more like something I’d actually accept, a number that made sense to pay me in costs, in light of the success I’d had, and how I got it. It was a respectful number, a common sense number, and I appreciated it an awful lot.
I tossed the paper back at them.
“Add a zero,” I said, continuing on when Senior Counsel blanched, and his junior retreated a step. “I know what’s going on here. Your client sold mine a bullshit franchise, one with a history of failing.” The franchise had opened up again under a new owner not long after Ray had lost it and then it promptly failed again. Like I said at the start of this story, it’s an old story. It’s how some franchise companies make money. “Your client makes more money selling bullshit franchises doomed to fail, then it does from the honest ones that make money. So add a zero to that number, or Ray’s gonna sue you, class action and all that, for all the people you’ve fucked.”
The Head stepped forward from the benches and spoke to me.
“We get threats like that all the time, but no one follows through. They don’t have the money to fight us, and neither does your client. So go ahead and sue.”
“It’s true that Ray doesn’t have jack shit,” I said, “not a pot to piss in, but he’s my cousin, Ray is, and even if he doesn’t have money, he’s got me. Ray’s family, and for Ray, I’ll sue you guys for free. Hell, I’ll even pay the expenses. Plus I’m gonna put a jury notice in, too, come to think of it, ‘cause juries--”
Senior Counsel cut me off, and moved his client to the back of the courtroom. There was a brief discussion, and then they came back. I watched as Senior Counsel wrote a single digit on the Minutes, a zero, written right where I wanted it.
“You’ll have to initial the change,” I said to the Head of Sy-C0, and it gave me great satisfaction to watch him sign.
“Don’t forget,” I said the moment his pen stopped moving, “for the settlement to be valid, I need to get the money today. Right now.”
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” the Head said.
“Not if you want the settlement to stay in place. I’ll follow you back to your office, and you can put a cheque in my hands.”

• * * *

“What’s this?” my wife said when I entered the apartment later that day, after I’d driven Dr. M home, stopping first at a local pub for beers.
“It’s an absurdly expensive bunch of flowers,” I said, “although no flowers, however beautiful, however expensive, could expiate my--”
She took the flowers, and gave a kiss.
“My mom called. She told me what happened. You fixed things with my dad.”
“Yup,” I said. I had certainly done that. I’d made Dr. M a professor again, if only for a few minutes. Not only a professor, but an expert witness. The judge had declared him an expert in plain terms and Dr.M had beamed when he’d heard those words.
“And you won Ray’s case, too. But my mom didn’t know how, and I don’t know how you did it either.”
“I’ll tell you over dinner tonight,” I said.
“But we agreed no more dinners out; we have to save money, now that a baby’s coming.”
I passed her the envelope that I’d received a few hours before. She opened it, and took out a cheque, a cheque drawn up for an amount I specified, made payable to Mr. and Mrs. Calledinthe90s.
The moment I got that cheque, all I could think about was how my wife would react when I put it into her hands. I could not wait to see her eyes bulge, to hear her voice say “oh my god,” to hear her laugh.
She did none of these things. Instead, she cried.
“Does this mean we can buy a house?” The money wouldn’t be enough to buy a house, not nowadays, with prices being so crazy. But things were different back then in the 90s. Sure, the internet was barely a thing and cell phones were super expensive and a lot of things sucked, but I’ll give the nineties one thing: houses were cheap.
“I think so,” I said.

I guess this could also be delayed grief. I have no idea what I’m even trying to say in this, I just can’t imagine speaking these thoughts to anyone in my life right now because I just can’t stand the way people look at me or speak to me or go quiet when I talk about him. Today just sucks.
I thought it would be last year that would suck, being ten years without him. And it did, but it sucks as much as it always does. Right now feels particularly hard.
I’m just thinking about how unfair it all is. I was 10 when I lost him, and I’m just thinking about how much I’ve missed out on with him. How much he has missed out on in his kids lives. Which doesn’t feel fair, because he had some shitty fucking things go on for him throughout his life and I think he at least deserved to watch his kids grow up. And it’s not fucking fair for me either. I looked up his obituary impulsively at work, and someone had left a story there about him that I’d never seen or heard. And I can’t imagine how many stories I’m missing out on, or how many things he could’ve guided me through. And I just feel so angry and tired about it all.
I just got my first apartment last year, and my moms boyfriend helped me build the bed and get it up all the stairs. He’s a sweet guy, we aren’t close, and it’s not his fault, but that should’ve been my dad. I don’t want men to do anything for me because it just fucking sucks because that should be my dad helping me, it shouldn’t be some fucking guy it should be him. I should be able to introduce him to all my partners, I want him to walk me down the aisle, I want to hear all his crazy stories, I want to show him stupid Tik toks and let him meet my cat. I wish that he had been there when I dropped out of school, when I went to detox, when I was couch surfing and trying to stay sober. I wish I could’ve gone to him. I wish he could’ve been there when I finally graduated, and when I got my dream job.
I want him to embarrass me in front of my friends, I want to make fun of him for being old, I want to listen to his ridiculously mish mash mixtape that was way too long, I want to show him what music I like. I want to show him all my tattoos, I want him to be disappointed in my new stupid tattoo ideas. I wanted him to be there when I was being a stupid teenager and tell me to stop being an idiot.
I want to scream at every man who tried to father me for daring to try and take his spot when that was his job and that was for him nobody else deserves to take that role from him just because he isn’t here.
I want to go back to when I was little, and we were sitting in his car just us and playing around with the new speech to text and he was reciting the jabberwocky poem, and we couldn’t stop laughing at the nonsense it typed out, and I want to stay in that car forever.
Today sucks. And FUCK cancer.

I have a crush on this boy at school that ive been crushing on for two years, hes the ugly nerd typa guy that no one else really wants- yk glasses, bunny teeth, lanky figure, and pale as hell, smart, chess player. while im a girl whos kinda masculine and chaotic, im very fit and athletic since i do taekwondo. but im convinced that he dosent like me back, i confessed to him and he said yes but i really feel like he just dosent mean it, he dosent approach me or talk to me and just passes by, were in the same grade a classroom away, and when i chat hes just really nonchalant and dismissive, he asked me out after the school year ends (through texts) and i said yes. i think im going to cancel but theres still that one tingle of hope that he actually likes me back

GUYS there's a mistake in the title: I am a female, not a male. Can't edit.
Just to be clear beforehand:
· I am a 100% sure he is single and not dating his ex
I (27F) met this man (26M) a couple months ago on a datingapp. I remember it saying in his bio that he was looking for something casual, at that point I didn’t know what I was looking for so I just sent him a message. We bonded over the fact that we both just got out of a long term relationship, we were both single for 2 months at that point after 4.5-5 years of dating (very coincidental but nice to bond over that LOL). He was very open and honest and also told me that he is still living with her at this point (it’s not easy to find a new place in the capital of our country). What I noticed is that this man was very honest, for example, he shared that he had a STD and that he has kissed guys (which could definitely be a dealbreaker for some girls). While it was clear that he was looking for casual, I did notice that after a short while he would text me at 7am when he woke up, and he literally talk the whole day. Also when he was working he would text me all the time. I started really liking him.
We had a strong attraction, and I was the one making very flirty and sexual comments. We would tease each other and couldn’t wait till the moment that we could meet up and have sex. After talking 24/7 for 3 weeks, we had our first date. We very both very nervous, and I remember him saying that he normally doesn’t get nervous so that this was weird for him. I sometimes did get the feeling that he started to like me a little more than only for casual. The date went great, and I think we really hit it off. We just talked for hours about our life and interests. We went from bar to bar just talking, and I remember saying that I had to at a certain point because I paid for my parking until a specific time. It was just a 10 minute walk. What made me certain that he liked me enough for a second date is when he offered to just keep talking, and that he would pay for my fine (100$) when I got one. He has a good job (therapist) so definitely has a good income but that amount of money is also a lot for him. Of course I declined LOL but I remember being flattered.
The day after I remember saying that he decided after the date to only focus on me, and that he would like it if I did the same. He also said that he was a “one girl kind of guy”. On the first date he also made me promise jokingly, yet serious, to at least go on 5 dates with each other. At tis point, it was clear that we found each other very attractive and that we really want to sleep with each other. Date two was also a lot of fun and at this point I really started to like him. The day after, he asked me for a third date. We kept taking initiative with conversations all the time. It would be very flirty and sexual sometimes, but also about anything and everything. I remember that sometimes I would try to be very flirty and he would direct the conversation to other stuff (like family), which was interesting to me, but I think he just really liked me. I am very cautious, and am really scared of the dating scene especially hearing all the ghosting, manipulating, whatever shit that happened to people around me so I was really analyzing anything and everything he was saying but there did not seem to be any red flags. My friends and older sister were sure he was falling in love with me based on the information I shared.
One night we were on the phone and I remember him hanging up suddenly when his ex entered their home. He already told me that he would have to end the conversation if this happened. After the conversation I remember him being kind of scared that I was annoyed that his ex is affecting our situation, but I explained that I understand and think it’s very respectful that he’s not rubbing it in her face that he’s talking to someone new. The day after he shared that he realized he wants to really separate wit this ex, and that he initiated a conversation about one of them moving out. I remember being like: oh he really likes me since little situation made him take action.
Throughout all of this, I would sometimes joke and make non-casual comments, in the beginning he was clear that he was not ready for that. After a while I remember him saying that these jokes were not scaring him (anymore). At this point I really liked him, and wasn’t sure if I was going to be happy with only being casual, and we had multiple conversations about this. The conversations went from ‘I really only can do casual at this point so if we’re not at the same page, we need to be clear and end it so no one gets hurt’ to ‘I wanted casual but at this point I am not sure, I really like you and I think it’s likely that I would want a serious relationship with you’. He was very clear and open about the fact that he was confused and was trying to figure out what he really wanted. A very important note: I noticed from the beginning on that this is a very conscientious, analytical person that thinks things through. From the beginning, I was also very clear that I could develop feelings, and that if I did and wanted more, that I would really like it if he would respect me enough to tell if he wasn’t in that place. He promised he would be honest. At this point there was no indication that he was dishonest about anything so I tried to just trust him on this.
I think at this point we’ve been talking for 3 weeks, and of course, I start to really like him. To me, it’s clear that he really likes me too. We did not have sex at this point. I started to catch feelings and asked him how to prevent falling in love. He responded that he had the same, and that at this point he is not even sure that this something he wants to prevent anymore. However, he was still reflecting on this situation and honestly it would be kind of weird to rush into a new relationship after being involved with someone else for so long, he was also living with her, and we do not live near each other so the situation was not in our favor.
Note: at this point we did not have sex yet. The sexual connection was definitely there though, and it was clear for both of us that on date 3 we would have sex.
One night, he had a party that he was really looking forward to. The day after he called me and kind of broke things off with me. He explained that this party made him realize that being single/having freedom is what he wants at this point. He was honest about finding other women attractive at this party (he volunteered the information that he did not find the girls more attractive than me), and that he did not flirt with them because we were talking, but that he would’ve liked that and would’ve liked to just have fun without the commitment. He said that he really liked me, and that if he kept talking to me and if we would continue to mee up, he was sure that he would fall in love and that he is just not ready for that at this point. He shared that he only wants to get in a relationship if he thinks he can give himself fully, and that at this point he’s just not there yet. During this conversation, he realized that this situation also happened with his ex that we dating for 5 years: they really liked each other, but he didn’t feel like he could give his all to her, so he didn’t commit. However, they still kept in contact (studying the same thing), couldn’t really keep away from each other and still had sex. This continued for a while until he felt ready to give himself fully, and that’s when they got official. I asked him if he also sees that happening with me, he said he did but that he couldn’t promise that 100%. I thanked him for his honesty, but couldn’t understand: all the signals were there that he really liked me and was very invested. I also told him that I was afraid I was being naïve to believe what he was saying, as I heard this exact situation happen to every girl ever (the bullshit cliches like “you deserve better”, “I need to work on myself”) and that it didn’t make sense what he was saying like: “I like you. I like you so much that if we would keep meeting, I will fall in love. Therefore, let’s stop talking.” However, at the same time I felt like I could trust him, based on the fact that he cut if off BEFORE we had sex. He literally could’ve waited another five days, had sex with me, and then cut if off. But at this point he didn’t get any.
This guy is not a fuckboy, I am sure of that. I have a specific type. He is the exact type like my ex, there is no fuckboy bone in their body.
We ended it. I let him know that he could contact me whenever he is ready for something serious, but that I would also keep dating and go on with my life.
My question to you guys is, and you can be harsh:
· Am I delusional, and is this quite literally every situation ever and does it come down to “I am not ready to a relationship… WITH YOU” or does it make sense what he’s saying? I just don’t understand letting someone go you like so much, think is so beautiful and interesting. It just does not make sense. However, at the same time, everything that he is and said did indicate that he really values “doing the right thing” and is really strict on himself. Is he just such a good, stand-up guy that he’s willing to let me go, or at least let the possibility for sex go, because he “knows he can’t give himself fully” and that he won’t get in a serious relationship if this is the case because he would lose respect for himself, and also doesn’t want me to accept any less than 100%.
(Last point: I considered the possibility that he just lost interest after date 2. He ended it 6 days after the second day. However, I don’t think this is likely: he asked for a third date the day after, and would jokingly remind me of the 5-date-promise, he “offered” to go to a concert with me of someone that he is not as big as a fan of which would cost him a lot of money, nothing in our conversations changed. Nothing gave off that he was less interested.)
TL;DR Met a guy on a dating app who initially wanted something casual. Despite living with his ex and admitting to not being ready for a serious relationship, we connected deeply. He was very open and honest, shared personal details early on, and our communication was intense and constant. After a few great dates, he seemed to start considering a more serious relationship with me. However, after a party, he realized he wasn’t ready to commit and broke things off, saying he feared falling in love because he couldn’t give himself fully yet. He was honest and ended things respectfully before we became more involved. I’m left wondering if this situation is a typical "it’s not you, it’s me" scenario or if he genuinely needs more time, as he stated. Is it delusional to think he might come around, or did his actions show genuine integrity and self-awareness?

So Me 23(m) and my buddy, let’s call him Robbie 19(m). We are hanging out he comes over and helps me cook dinner. We are having a good time and we are attracted to each other, but things are kinda weird. Some how we end ho talking about Grindr and invite a 3rd over. We are in a miltary town, so everyone is basically a top or has a fetish for the feminine side of things, so the hunt for a bottom is hard. He brings up this guy who he met once. He said the sex was ok, but the guy like confessed his love for him earlier in the day. So I’m down to fuck him with Rob, because Rob made it clear he didn’t want a relationship with the kid, let’s call him Jose(19).
So my place is kinda far out of town, but this kid comes over in like 10 minutes tops. Me and Rob are in the bad kinda just talking having a good time, Jose walks in. Rob says hi introduces me and the whole interaction feels weird. Like he tried to hug Rob, and Rob didn’t want that and just shook his hand. Jose didn’t even seem to wanna talk to me, yet he is at my house and came for a threesome. After we talked for a bit and Jose leans over Rob and kiss his cheek and whisper shit in his ear. Now I’m just sitting on the other side of my bed talking to Rob and he clearly looks uncomfortable. Jose then starts like putting this finger in Robs mouth and Rob is verbally and physically saying stop. Jose begins to ask him about other guys in his phone and read his text as he is scrolling through. Me and Rob engaged in more intense conversation, so Jose rolls to the foot of the bed and is holding Rob hand hostage. I mean death gripping with both hands as he is falling asleep. Rob and I then begin texting and Rob is telling me he has to go and I need to kick him out. So I say something like “yeah I have work at 4 tmr and it 10 yall like got to go” Rob’s like yeah ok and Jose just ignores me and talking about how he is tired. I reply “well you’re not sleeping here” he is like “ I know”. I text Rob and say I’m just going to make out with you, we will act like he doesn’t exist and he will hopefully get the message and leave.
So I lean over and kiss him. (Side note him and I only made out once prior to this, and he is such a good fucking kisser) As we are making out, I kinda forget it was planned and fell into it a bit. So I’m kissing as hard as I can, and enjoying it too. While we are in the middle of making out Jose climbs on top of him and kinda tries to get Robs attention, but me and Rob are enjoying the moment. Jose then gets pissed and move my head to kiss Rob it, it last maybe 5 secs before Rob pulls away and is like “why do you to make out with I make it clear I am not longer interested in doing anything with Jose. Honestly watching Rob kiss him kinda pissed me off. Rob is then like I have to pee and Jose is like, “no you, don’t you lying” and after 5 minutes of him explaining it he finally lets his hand go to pee. Rob comes back and pretend to get his stuff to leave and the guy walks out my door and pauses for a second to wait for Rob bc he is still in my room. He leaves so Rob locks the door and we are talking about how stupid that dude is, and how Jose acted like he didn’t know he was coming over for a threesome but instead came to see Rob. We look out my window to see him park in my yard throwing a tantrum in his car. He leaves then blocks the both of us on Snapchat, then proceeds to text a friend of Rob’s and talk shit on him and says he going to tell him his what Rob is doing.

GUYS SORRY THE TITLE IS WONG, I can't seem to edit: I AM A FEMALE, not a 26 year old male.
Just to be clear beforehand:
· I am a 100% sure he is single and not dating his ex
I (27F) met this man (26M) a couple months ago on a datingapp. I remember it saying in his bio that he was looking for something casual, at that point I didn’t know what I was looking for so I just sent him a message. We bonded over the fact that we both just got out of a long term relationship, we were both single for 2 months at that point after 4.5-5 years of dating (very coincidental but nice to bond over that LOL). He was very open and honest and also told me that he is still living with her at this point (it’s not easy to find a new place in the capital of our country). What I noticed is that this man was very honest, for example, he shared that he had a STD and that he has kissed guys (which could definitely be a dealbreaker for some girls). While it was clear that he was looking for casual, I did notice that after a short while he would text me at 7am when he woke up, and he literally talk the whole day. Also when he was working he would text me all the time. I started really liking him.
We had a strong attraction, and I was the one making very flirty and sexual comments. We would tease each other and couldn’t wait till the moment that we could meet up and have sex. After talking 24/7 for 3 weeks, we had our first date. We very both very nervous, and I remember him saying that he normally doesn’t get nervous so that this was weird for him. I sometimes did get the feeling that he started to like me a little more than only for casual. The date went great, and I think we really hit it off. We just talked for hours about our life and interests. We went from bar to bar just talking, and I remember saying that I had to leave at a certain point because I paid for my parking until a specific time. It was just a 10 minute walk. What made me certain that he liked me enough for a second date is when he offered to just keep talking, and that he would pay for my fine (100$) when I got one. He has a good job (he's a therapist) so definitely has a good income but that amount of money is also a lot for him. Of course I declined LOL but I remember being flattered.
The day after I remember saying that he decided after the date to only focus on me, and that he would like it if I did the same. He also said that he was a “one girl kind of guy”. On the first date he also made me promise jokingly, yet serious, to at least go on 5 dates with each other. At tis point, it was clear that we found each other very attractive and that we really want to sleep with each other. Date two was also a lot of fun and at this point I really started to like him. The day after, he asked me for a third date. We kept taking initiative with conversations all the time. It would be very flirty and sexual sometimes, but also about anything and everything. I remember that sometimes I would try to be very flirty and he would direct the conversation to other stuff (like family), which was interesting to me, but I think he just really liked me. I am very cautious, and am really scared of the dating scene especially hearing all the ghosting, manipulating, whatever shit that happened to people around me so I was really analyzing anything and everything he was saying but there did not seem to be any red flags. My friends and older sister were sure he was falling in love with me based on the information I shared.
One night we were on the phone and I remember him hanging up suddenly when his ex entered their home. He already told me that he would have to end the conversation if this happened. After the conversation I remember him being kind of scared that I was annoyed that his ex is affecting our situation, but I explained that I understand and think it’s very respectful that he’s not rubbing it in her face that he’s talking to someone new. The day after he shared that he realized he wants to really physically separate with this ex, and that he initiated a conversation about one of them moving out. I remember being like: oh he really likes me since little situation made him take action.
Throughout all of this, I would sometimes joke and make non-casual comments, in the beginning he was clear that he was not ready for that. After a while I remember him saying that these jokes were not scaring him (anymore). At this point I really liked him, and wasn’t sure if I was going to be happy with only being casual, and we had multiple conversations about this. The conversations went from ‘I really only can do casual at this point so if we’re not at the same page, we need to be clear and end it so no one gets hurt’ to ‘I wanted casual but at this point I am not sure, I really like you and I think it’s likely that I would want a serious relationship with you’. He was very clear and open about the fact that he was confused and was trying to figure out what he really wanted. A very important note: I noticed from the beginning on that this is a very conscientious, analytical person that thinks things through. From the beginning, I was also very clear that I could develop feelings, and that if I did and wanted more, that I would really like it if he would respect me enough to tell if he wasn’t in that place. He promised he would be honest. At this point there was no indication that he was dishonest about anything so I tried to just trust him on this.
I think at this point we’ve been talking for 3 weeks, and of course, I start to really like him. To me, it’s clear that he really likes me too. We did not have sex at this point. I started to catch feelings and asked him how to prevent falling in love. He responded that he had the same, and that at this point he is not even sure that this something he wants to prevent anymore. However, he was still reflecting on this situation and honestly it would be kind of weird to rush into a new relationship after being involved with someone else for so long, he was also living with her, and we do not live near each other so the situation was not in our favor.
Note: at this point we did not have sex yet. The sexual connection was definitely there though, and it was clear for both of us that on date 3 we would have sex.
One night, he had a party that he was really looking forward to. The day after he called me and kind of broke things off with me. He explained that this party made him realize that being single/having freedom is what he wants at this point. He was honest about finding other women attractive at this party (he volunteered the information that he did not find the girls more attractive than me), and that he did not flirt with them because we were talking, but that he would’ve liked that and would’ve liked to just have fun without the commitment. He said that he really liked me, and that if he kept talking to me and if we would continue to meet up, he was sure that he would fall in love and that he is just not ready for that at this point. He shared that he only wants to get in a relationship if he thinks he can give himself fully, and that at this point he’s just not there yet. During this conversation, he realized that this situation also happened with his ex that we dating for 5 years: they really liked each other, but he didn’t feel like he could give his all to her, so he didn’t commit. However, they still kept in contact (studying the same thing), couldn’t really keep away from each other and still had sex. This continued for a while until he felt ready to give himself fully, and that’s when they got official. I asked him if he also sees that happening with me, he said he did but that he couldn’t promise that 100%. I thanked him for his honesty, but couldn’t understand: all the signals were there that he really liked me and was very invested. I also told him that I was afraid I was being naïve to believe what he was saying, as I heard this exact situation happen to every girl ever (the bullshit cliches like “you deserve better”, “I need to work on myself”) and that it didn’t make sense what he was saying like: “I like you. I like you so much that if we would keep meeting, I will fall in love. Therefore, let’s stop talking.” However, at the same time I felt like I could trust him, based on the fact that he cut if off BEFORE we had sex. He literally could’ve waited another five days, had sex with me, and then cut if off. But at this point he didn’t get any.
This guy is not a fuckboy, I am sure of that. I have a specific type. He is the exact type like my ex, there is no fuckboy bone in their body.
We ended it. I let him know that he could contact me whenever he is ready for something serious, but that I would also keep dating and go on with my life.
My question to you guys is:
· Am I delusional, and is this quite literally every situation ever and does it come down to “I am not ready to a relationship… WITH YOU” or does it make sense what he’s saying? I just don’t understand letting someone go you like so much, think is so beautiful and interesting. It just does not make sense. However, at the same time, everything that he is and said did indicate that he really values “doing the right thing” and is really strict on himself. Is he just such a good, stand-up guy that he’s willing to let me go, or at least let the possibility for sex go, because he “knows he can’t give himself fully” and that he won’t get in a serious relationship if this is the case because he would lose respect for himself, and also doesn’t want me to accept any less than 100%.
(Last point: I considered the possibility that he just lost interest after date 2. He ended it 6 days after the second date. However, I don’t think this is likely: he asked for a third date the day after, and would jokingly remind me of the 5-date-promise, he “offered” to go to a concert with me of someone that he is not as big as a fan of which would cost him a lot of money, nothing in our conversations changed. Nothing gave off that he was less interested.)
TL;DR Met a guy on a dating app who initially wanted something casual. Despite living with his ex and admitting to not being ready for a serious relationship, we connected deeply. He was very open and honest, shared personal details early on, and our communication was intense and constant. After a few great dates, he seemed to start considering a more serious relationship with me. However, after a party, he realized he wasn’t ready to commit and broke things off, saying he feared falling in love because he couldn’t give himself fully yet. He was honest and ended things respectfully before we became more involved. I’m left wondering if this situation is a typical "it’s not you, it’s me" scenario or if he genuinely needs more time, as he stated. Is it delusional to think he might come around, or did his actions show genuine integrity and self-awareness?

Hey everyone,
I wanted to share my recent experience with a landlord named James O'Reilly to warn others who might be considering renting from him. Here’s what happened:
I rented a house from James O'Reilly a while ago, and it turned out to be a nightmare. From the beginning, there were several issues with the property that he promised to fix but never did. Here are some key points:

1. Maintenance Neglect: Major repairs like washer issues, electrical problems, and mold were ignored despite multiple requests. This made living conditions unbearable and potentially hazardous.
2. Unjust Charges: He frequently added unjustified charges to the rent without providing clear explanations or invoices. This included random fees for maintenance services that were never performed.
3. Poor Communication: James was extremely difficult to reach. Voicemails, texts, and emails went unanswered for weeks, leaving me in the dark about important matters related to the property.
4. Unprofessional Behavior: He showed up unannounced several times, invading my privacy. On a few occasions, he entered the apartment without prior notice, which is not only unprofessional but also illegal.
5. Deposit Issues: Upon moving out, he refused to return my security deposit, citing damages that were either pre-existing or never occurred. It took months of back-and-forth to get a partial refund, and that too only after threatening legal action.
6. Rude and Threatening: He was extremely rude and threatening during interactions, especially when issues were brought up. His hostile attitude made it very difficult to communicate or resolve any problems.

I’m sharing this to hopefully save others from the stress and inconvenience I went through. If you’re considering renting from James O'Reilly, please think twice. There are plenty of other landlords out there who are far more reliable and respectful.
Feel free to ask me any questions if you need more details about my experience. Stay safe and happy renting!
TL;DR: Avoid renting from James O'Reilly due to neglect of maintenance, unjust charges, poor communication, unprofessional behavior, deposit issues, and his extremely rude and threatening demeanor.

#rentalwarning #tenantexperience #badlandlord

OOC: co-written with NotTooSunny
It was an ordinary day at the New York City Library. People wandered in and out of the building, unaware of the monster that lurked among them.
The only people who seemed to know the danger these mortals were in were Harper and Amon, who entered the building with glowing bronze swords at their hips. The bulky weapons seemed to have escaped the notice of the other library patrons, which was a good thing. The job description had made it clear that they were meant to remain inconspicuous in completing their task.
Harper had traded her usual bright orange camp shirt for a more discrete cropped black t-shirt and pleated pants. She had been insistent on coming up with a persona for them on the train ride from Montauk Station into New York City. They were meant to act as high school students researching for a World History paper on Ancient Greece. Now that they were inside the library, she had stopped her incessant rambling to peruse a riddle book, in what she had insisted was preparation for their job.
As they wandered through the bookshelves, she remained absorbed in the dog-eared children’s book, thumbing through the pages to find a riddle that would be fitting of a sphinx.
“Here’s one, Amon,” she said, narrowly avoiding a collision with another library patron as she read, “What is something that runs but never walks, has a mouth but never talks, has a head but never weeps, has a bed but never sleeps?”
The dark-haired son of Apollo glanced over from a shelf of dusty atlases, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. “That is an easy one,” he replied simply. "River. Try me with something more challenging next time around." He adjusted the collar of his striped button down, which he had layered with a navy blue sweater in preparation for the chill of the air-conditioned interior.
“The real riddle is where we can find this sphinx,” Amon glanced around the spacious reading area, eyeing the dark wooden staircase with its ornate railings. “The boyfriend and girlfriend who tried this last time, they found her by a bookcase.”
“A bookcase,” Harper repeated derisively, closing her book to theatrically scan their surroundings. “That narrows it down.”
Ignoring Harper’s mockery, the son of Apollo paused suddenly, his dark eyes glazing over with concentration. His hearing dulled, the surrounding footsteps and rustling pages fading into the background as if muffled by a thick curtain. Amon searched for the energy signature of the monster he knew lurked among the mortals. It was a subtle shift, like trying to discern a whisper in a crowded room, but he felt a faint, abnormal energy hanging somewhere up above.
“I say we try the second floor,” he said as he snapped out of the tracking trance, offering no other explanation to Harper.
“We could do that, sure,” Harper said, words laced with blatant doubt at his sudden certainty. “I say we try asking the Visitor’s Center. I know she's supposed to be disguised by the Mist, but the librarians have to have noticed something.”
“You can go ahead and do that.” The small smirk from earlier was now spreading across his face. “But you can’t be upset if I find the sphinx and solve her riddle before you even get there.”
Harper rolled her eyes, but she made no attempt to stop Amon from walking towards the staircase. After a moment she set off after him, footsteps even against the wooden steps.
Up on the second floor, Amon moved quietly, his dark eyes scanning the hallway for anything out of the ordinary.
I know you’re up here.
He stopped at every heavy-looking mahogany door, peering through each muted glass insert. He felt the air grow thicker with ominous energy at every step, so he knew the monster must be near.
One of the doors was slightly ajar, a suspiciously open invitation. Or a trap. The dark-haired boy caught sight of a cat-shaped figure on the other side before ducking down and motioning sharply for Harper’s attention. He unsheathed his kopis from his belt, bracing himself for confrontation.
Harper crouched against the wall, hand on the hilt of her sword as she tried to peek through the frosted glass pane. She held her breath, ready to move at Amon’s signal. He held out three fingers and then put them down one by one. When he hit zero, they stood in unison, flinging the door open together.
When Amon and Harper stepped inside, the body of the sphinx lay motionless on the floor.
The rest of the room was in disarray, littered with disheveled chairs and broken bits of chalk. A window on the other side of the room had been forced open, the curtain fluttering in the wind.
“No way,” Harper said. The door clicked shut behind her as she pushed past Amon into the room and kneeled to study the monster’s limp figure.
The sphinx had the large body of a lion and the eerily human face of a middle-aged woman, hair tied back in a severe bun and foundation caked onto her high cheekbones. Fangs jutted out of her red-painted lips, and eagle wings sprouted out of the space between her shoulder blades, folded tight against her back.
“Monsters dissolve into dust when they die,” Amon remarked, keeping his distance as he watched the subtle rise and fall of the monster’s ribs. “She must have been knocked unconscious.”
“Right,” Harper agreed, “The real question is who. And why.”
She hovered a hand over the cat's shoulder, set on rousing her. Before she made contact, the sphinx's eyes snapped open, round irises surrounded by shocking yellow sclera.
"Slain!" she wailed. Harper staggered backwards. Amon’s arms instinctively reached out to catch her, but she didn’t stumble near enough to make contact. "I am slain!"
With feline grace, the sphinx rose to her feet. A white tape outline marked the placement of her previously prone body on the floor. The muscles in her legs rippled as she paced in front of Harper and Amon, massive velvet paws silent against the carpet.
"And you, my dear heroes," she roared, eyes narrowed in an accusatory glare, "were too late to save me!"
The sphinx sniffed, composing herself. She leapt onto a wooden table. The table legs creaked underneath her weight. "Fear not," she tutted, "Fear not. For you can still avenge me. If you are able to determine the murderer and their weapon, then I will obtain justice, and all will be right with the world.”
“Your riddle is a murder mystery,” Harper said, confusion written across her face. Amon raised an eyebrow. The sphinx chuffed, a low rumbling sound reminiscent of laughter.
“You sought that hackneyed question about man? The Sphinx that the storytellers remember is far less adaptive than I am. I am not interested in your ability to regurgitate the information you have read. Nor am I interested in taking advantage of the nonsensical rules of your English language.”
“I am here to satisfy my own curiosity: does modern mankind still possess the ability to engage in deductive reasoning, or do they only seek to make themselves appear intelligent? Do not speak,” the sphinx said, a pointed look at Harper, who had opened her mouth to interject, “You will answer my questions when you play my game.”
“The potential murder weapons are scattered throughout this room,” she continued, leaping off the table. “And the suspects have already provided their testimonies for your review. Rest assured, I have made certain that their statements contain no lies.”
A shimmering, translucent energy began to swirl around Harper and Amon’s feet, beginning to take shape as holograms with a flickering, ephemeral quality.
A projection of Cerberus materialized first, his three massive heads snarling and snapping in unison. A ribbon of text appeared by his paws to translate his growling: "I was guarding the entrance, my duty unbroken."
Next came the Minotaur, his towering form pacing within the labyrinth on Crete. He snorted and pawed at the ground, the holographic maze shifting behind him in the background. The translation text appeared: "Confined within these walls, no escape for me."
Lamia's projection flickered into view, her serpentine lower half coiled around her as she wept in her cave. She glanced mournfully at the holographic images of her lost children: "My grief consumes me, innocent of this crime."
A shimmering Hydra emerged next, its nine heads snapping at invisible foes. Each one moved independently, showcasing its ability to act on its own. The translation for the hissing head at the center read: "Engaged in battle, I could not have killed."
Typhon materialized with a thunderous roar, his colossal form fighting against restraints under Mount Etna. His immense size and power were palpable, even in scaled down holographic form: "Bound by chains of the earth, I could not have roamed free."
Echidna’s hologram appeared last, her form a mix of human and serpent, lounging in a dimly lit cave. She looked directly at the viewers, her expression both defiant and amused. The translation text by her side read: “I dwell in my lair, uninvolved in such petty affairs.”
The sphinx swiped at the last projection as it faded, deeming her handiwork satisfactory. “There is not enough information to deduce the killer using evidence alone. Because I am fair, I will provide you with three hints before your final guess. Be forewarned: if you fail to provide a correct answer, you will both perish. Is this understood?”
Harper spoke. “If we answer correctly, you will leave this library for good.”
“If you answer correctly, I will permanently relocate. It is a preferable option in comparison to another death. Now, do you agree to the terms and conditions?” the sphinx said primly, regarding Harper and Amon with casual disdain. The pair nodded. “Very well.”
The sphinx dropped onto the floor and let her head loll back, pretending to be dead once more.
Hint #1

Suspects	Weapons
Cerberus	The Shirt of Nessus
The Minotaur	Siren Song
Lamia	Harpy Talon
The Hydra	Celestial Bronze Sword
Typhon	A-C Encyclopedia
Echidna	Cerberus Fang

Soon after the Sphinx had laid back down, Harper and Amon began to scour the room. A small pile of prospective murder weapons formed on a nearby table.
“We can easily eliminate the siren song,” Amon rushed to speak over Harper, eyeing the small glass vial of swirling gray matter that they had found nestled behind a row of books on metalworking. “It is a luring mechanism, not a murder weapon.”
“We could rule out Cerberus’ fang too,” he pointed at the enormous yellowing tooth, about the size of the small baseball bat Amon used to have when he played in the little league. “If we take the hologram as ground truth, all of his teeth were intact there.”
Harper used her kopis to prod at the stained tunic that had been hidden in a desk drawer, being careful not to touch it with bare skin. “The Shirt of Nessus is a viable option. It would be easy for any of the suspects to lay it down and wait for the hydra venom to kick in.”
“I am not ready to rule out the bronze sword either,” Amon noted. “Monsters have access to heroes and the weapons they leave behind.”
“Most of these monsters don’t even have opposable thumbs,” Harper argued, running a hand over the sword they had found by a power outlet. ”They don’t have the dexterity to wield a sword.”
“I do not imagine that the technicality would be that granular.”
Harper laughed. “Oh, the number of teeth in the Cerberus hologram tell all, but we’re drawing the line at opposable thumbs.”
“I suppose that that logic would also rule out the harpy talon and the encyclopedia easily as well,” Amon admitted. “Which would be too easy.”
“I’m just that good at logical deduction.” Harper said proudly. “If my assumption is correct, then the poisoned shirt is the only one that makes sense.”
Amon scoffed, folding his arms across his chest as his dark eyes bored into Harper. “It would not necessarily matter what our first guess would be anyway.”
“Can you provide an argument for any other weapon? Or are you intent on purposely making an illogical guess?” she countered cooly.
“Fine,” Amon acquiesced. “Since you are so adamant about the shirt, we can guess the shirt, and be incorrect. It does not matter. What about the suspects themselves?” He clasped his hands behind his back, his steps measured as he started to pace across the plush red carpet of the room.
Harper smiled, smugly accepting her victory. She strode towards a chalkboard at the side of the study room, inscribing the list of weapons and suspects with a fresh piece of white chalk.
“All of them have alibis,“ she began. “I think that-”
“Some make more sense than others,” Amon spoke over Harper, irritated by her minor triumph. “Cerberus, for example, is under the service of Hades. He says he did not leave his post, and he could not have done so without permission or dire consequences on the process of the dead.”
Harper silently seethed as Amon spoke, meeting his rationale with reluctant acceptance before starting again in a louder, exaggerated tone. “I think that the ones with the shakiest alibis are Lamia, the Minotaur, Typhon, and Echidna. No witnesses can confirm their locations. In fact, Lamia provides no location at all.” Harper circled those names. She looked at Amon with a forced smile, allowing him a moment to provide more commentary.
“Lamia? Well,” there was a hint of mockery in the sneer that tugged on the corner of Amon’s lips. “I would imagine her emotions rendered her… Too fragile and unstable to carry out such an act.”
“You’re kidding,” Harper scoffed, searching Amon's face for the slightest hint that he was joking. “Her grief is what moved her to kill children in the first place. I doubt it would suddenly be incapacitating. She’s just appealing to your sense of superiority, and I can’t believe that you’re falling for it.”
"It is not about superiority. It is about logic," Amon retorted, bristling in defense. “You cannot deny that emotions cloud judgment. Maybe the sphinx wants us to leverage our knowledge about her past crimes to reason that she was not thinking clearly in this case either.” Amon had no other evidence that pointed towards Lamia as the top suspect, but he had dug deep enough where he was now ready to stand firm in his reasoning.
“Murder,” Harper countered, eyes narrowed in a venomous stare, “-does not require you to think clearly. Haven’t you heard of a crime of passion? If anyone’s judgment is clouded right now, Amon, it’s yours.”
The son of Apollo squared his shoulders, his expression hardening. "I understand the concept of crimes of passion, thank you.” His dark-eyed stare returned Harper's gaze, unflinching at the intensity. “But our investigation must be rooted in facts, not assumptions based on emotions. And the facts are,” he resumed his pacing once more, “that Lamia cannot be the culprit, as she is the only suspect that openly admits to being innocent of this crime.”
Amon had considered this from the very start, but provoking Harper like this had proved to be far more amusing.
Harper crossed Lamia’s name off of the board. She swallowed down her anger, fighting the urge to continue pressing the issue in favor of returning to their list of suspects. She pointed her piece of chalk at the next names on the list. “The Minotaur and Typhon are trapped, or so they say. How could they have done anything?”
“Their alibis revolve around their inability to escape,” Amon pointed out. “Not that they were unable to commit murder. The Labyrinth, in fact,” he raised a dramatic finger, “has several moving passages that could have permitted the Minotaur to move and commit murder without an official escape.”
Harper considered his words for a long moment, trying to find the flaw in his reasoning. Seeing none, she placed a dot next to the Minotaurs's name.
“Typhon escaped his prison in the Second Titanomachy. He could do it again,” Harper said thoughtfully. “Though I don’t understand why he would do something like this. He’s the Sphinx's father. The same goes for Echidna.”
Amon, who had been nodding at Harper’s assessment of Typhon’s abilities, pursed his lips at her observation of parentage. “I do not see how this could possibly be relevant to the logical puzzle at hand.”
Harper spoke slowly, as if the answer was obvious. “What motive would they have to kill their own daughter?”
“Harper,” Amon began curtly, folding his arms across his chest. “Half of the Greek myths revolve around immortals killing their own children.”
“Then we should pick one of them,” Harper declared, pivoting her argument instead of admitting her logical blunder. “They would have more of a motive than the rest of the suspects, if anything.”
“The Minotaur can escape much more easily than Typhon can. Motive aside, it is the most logical guess,” Amon concluded, adjusting his collar haughtily. “I will remind you that we picked your choice of weapon. It is only fair that I select the monster.”
“Fine.” Harper agreed, her gaze stormy as she turned back towards the sphinx. “We accuse the Minotaur of killing the sphinx with the Shirt of Nessus.”
The sphinx opened one eye. “None of these are correct!”
Hint #2

Suspects	Weapons
Cerberus	The Shirt of Nessus
The Minotaur	Siren Song
Lamia	Harpy Talon
The Hydra	Celestial Bronze Sword
Typhon	A-C Encyclopedia
Echidna	Cerberus Fang

“Two more hints left.” Harper announced, crossing off the Minotaur’s name and the poisoned shirt on the chalkboard with a flourish. It was not ideal that her initial logical deductions had been incorrect, but at least Amon had also been wrong. She couldn't resist a snide comment. “I knew it wasn’t the Minotaur.”
“So you still think it’s Typhon.” Choosing to ignore Harper’s taunting, Amon rested his hand on a nearby desk, studying the lists on the chalkboard before him. He had taken the Minotaur error as a personal failure, and was determined to get the suspect right this time.
“I do.”
“Why not Echidna?”
“She’s too emotional to kill someone, obviously.” Harper said sarcastically. “Her frail female arms are probably too weak to even hold a weapon.”
The dark-haired boy rolled his eyes. “Objectively,” he began, ignoring her quip once more, “Typhon could not have lied about his inability to roam free. A natural disaster freed him from Mount Etna during the Second Titanomachy, but he could not recreate those conditions on his own.” Though his tone remained aloof, it was clear that Amon was relishing in the opportunity to flaunt his mythology knowledge.
“Maybe,” Harper argued, stubborn. “But Echidna’s statement was less ambiguous than his. Typhon just explains his predicament; he doesn't provide a real claim. Echidna explicitly says she was not involved.” She thought for a few more moments, rolling the piece of chalk in her hands. “Echidna could have released him? They would be accomplices.”
Amon shook his head. “There was a single murderer. Not two. The sphinx would not lie about the premise of the game.”
Harper stared at him coldly, but could offer no rebuttal. She turned her attention to the board. “Typhon is a giant. He’s capable of using the sword.”
“But the specificity of Echidna’s denial is still incredibly suspicious. ‘Petty affairs’ is a strange way to phrase a murder. But,” Amon added reluctantly, “I understand the logic behind Typhon. I suppose it is your turn to choose the monster, and we will still have another guess to work with.”
“As for the weapon,” he continued, “I still think the sword is the most viable option, given that the siren song and the fang can be ruled out and the shirt with the venom was, well,” Amon pursed his lips, fighting the urge to smile, “incorrect.”
Before Harper could interject, Amon turned towards the sphinx at the front of the room. “We accuse Typhon of killing the sphinx with a Celestial Bronze Sword.”
“One of these is correct!”
Hint #3

Suspects	Weapons
Cerberus	The Shirt of Nessus
The Minotaur	Siren Song
Lamia	Harpy Talon
The Hydra	Celestial Bronze Sword
Typhon	A-C Encyclopedia
Echidna	Cerberus Fang

“Aha!” Amon raised a triumphant finger before pointing it at Harper. “I told you,” he gloated, “Typhon had no escape route.”
“You were right,” Harper admitted, staring down at the carpet so that she would not have to look at his smug expression.
“Let’s get this over with,” she muttered, and turned back towards the lioness with crossed arms. “We accuse Echidna of killing the sphinx with a Celestial Bronze Sword”
“One of these is correct,” the sphinx announced. Her mouth twisted in amusement, fangs bared in a menacing smile.
READ PART 2 HERE

Hey guys! Today I checked recommended games and a few posts and realized maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing to just ask.
I am a huge fan of games with heavy customization. For as much flak as Heroes Unlimited gets
YES it's a really unbalanced game unless your players agree to a power tier YES the book is messy and difficult to use and you're better off ripping pages out and making a binder YES the amount of chaff text in the book is overwhelming and makes barrier to entry impossible YES I recognize it's probably not a good example of a game that does what I'm looking for
Which is why I am asking for a good example of a game that does what I'm looking for.
The thing I loved about Heroes Unlimited?
Got a guy who wants to run an underground spy lab? There's rules for that. Got a guy who wants to send henchmen into a fight and stay home on chair? There's rules for that. Got a guy who wants customizable power armor that isn't just a one size fits all? Rules for that. Someone wants to run the hulk? Got it. Someone wants a customizable vehicle that isn't one size? You're covered. Captain Planet clone? We got that too!
It wasn't necessarily balanced, but I loved that I could have Nick Fury sending regular shield agents, the hulk, a cyborg with internal blades and armor that gave them speed and each of those had enough VARIETY in their rules that even if someone else made the same type of character they felt unique.
I'm running Sentinel right now just as one shots when our regular game falls through but the lack of progression (no leveling or upgrades) and the fact that all powers feel "same-y" really just doesn't hit for me.
A planet buster hulk punching the villain does about 5 damage on an attack. A deadpool character trash talking the villain also does about 5 damage on an attack.
Are there any games with the myriad of options that HU had? Ideally.. not with a book that makes my players' eyes roll into the back of their heads during the 8 hours it takes to do a single character's creation?
I'm not super comfortable homebrewing things but I'm starting to get the feeling that might be the answer to my problem. That or GURPS or something.

Blachowicz here.
Kept yah’ waiting, huh? Heh, sorry about that one, but I can explain. As we all know… we lost a few good men the last few months.
That’s the brutal part of a hybrid war like ours: We’re fighting a foe unconventional, with half our arsenal tied down because those who grant us authorization are either in disbelief of the true facts, or scared… or already assimilated. That being said our momentum recently was a change not seen in years, and because of that… despite the losses we have garnered, we were close through a breakthrough. One last night Krol pulls myself and other two must trusted squad leads into the back of our COP. There is one of our equipment cages, surrounded by m-bitter radios, tripods, and several hundred thousand dollars of equipment he brought us around a simple worn table. Before us he laid a map of eastern poland… red markings indicating cells that seemed to dot the countryside like a pestilence, or used to… as deep gashes of advance from raids had trisected their lines, even if ones did pop up in the interior.
It was a back and forth; an outside virus infecting Polska at it’s heart, and we were the antibodies sent to drive them out. To which… Major Krol points to one of the largest symbol on the map: a dark red diamond, the NATO symbol for an enemy unit, deep inside of an untouched wooded area, adjacent to a mountain ridge. Several jagged lines indicated entrenchment, with red horizontal lines indicating possible enemy control… or our contested control, for over 20kms surrounding it. Letting us all look, the Major lit himself a cigarette.
“Sir, you sure it’s wise to smoke in here with the dive tanks just behind us” 1st Squad’s lead quipped. “Fuck off” Krol dryly said.
“Alright… this is it… this is the one we’ve been searching for for years, this is the nucleus my predecessor commander died trying to find” he says, pointing to it. Not far from Zamosc, it was almost touching the border with Belarus, the contested area indicating the Strigoi did operate over it… indicating one of the largest spill through points. “-It’s an old soviet bunker, made during their 1960s initiative it was designed to hold the munitions and manpower of several units in the event of a NATO first strike” Krol explained. “It’s gotta be massive then…” I said gazing at the map; “Didn’t the army demolish all of the old soviet hulks near Belarus to prevent any infiltrations?” 3rd Squad’s lead asked. “National Police took the effort over… and by extension, the Strigoi. It was halfway demo’ed before they burrowed into it and have been using it as a bridgehead ever since. This is it…” Krol said. He looked around at all of us, a sense of certainty I had never seen before as he blew smoke from his nostrils; “We’ve been fucking around in the dark for so long, it’s hard to believe we’ve made any progress, but this is it. With this gone, this will set them back over a decade and the momentum will finally shift into our favor… into Poland’s… -Europe’s”.
I swear there was almost a flash of joy, of pride in his eyes and a phantom of a smirk before reality set back in “That being said… we can’t leave this to chance, especially not something as important as this. We’re going to have to go there ourselves… clear through every inch of that place, and tear it all down, piece by piece. I will be straight with you all… when we go, there will be some of us that aren’t coming back. -but we are going… a whole generation is counting on us, and unborn billions rely on us to succeed”. We all nodded, a silent agreement washing over us as we took this upon ourselves. Echo-1 spoke up: “So… They’re authorizing a raid? How big?”. “We’re rolling in as a hard target, armor, explosives, and air support” Krol answered, taking a drag off his cigarette. “Aviation? How the hell did we get that approved, we’ve gotten attempts shot down four times due to those leeches” I said in disbelief. “There’s too much evidence here pointing to the human trafficking tied to their actions… We’ve finally got too much weight pinning them down, to keep the hammer from slamming into their necks” Krol chuckled. He looked around “Any questions?”. “When?” Echo-3 asked. “Three hours. We’re hitting them in the dead of night, only time we could get the birds authorized. Get your boys ready. We’re rolling out” Krol said, dying the cigarette bud out on the table. I can’t begin to tell you the euphoria we felt leaving that cage, as our men started arriving, they did so a lot quicker, and with their heads a lot higher than they had in weeks. As Second Squad’s lead we were going to be one of the main arms of attack into the bunker, thus I made sure we had a breacher loaded with enough thermite, charges, and tools to cut through anything. Our shield bearer we ready to go, as was our assaulters, grenadiers, and machine gunner. I double checked each and everyone of their weapons; ensuring the feeder paws of our squad’s belt fed were intact, making sure every breach charge we had was properly set and packed. There was going to be no mistakes, no slip ups. The margin of error needed to be the smallest it had ever been for us tonight if we were going to make the gore spilt worth it.
Finally… there on the outside of the building, the bright LED lights kept the darkness of the ensuing night at bay as the roar of our MRAPs could be heard. It was said once that war is 99% peace, and 1% chaos, they were right. The slow periods where the blood slowed and the doubt creeped in was the worst… yet we all kept it at bay. We needed to, there was going to be no backing down tonight. All three squads were up, all of us ready to go… we circled up… short stares and shaky nods telling us one things: We were in this together, till the end… the finish line so many before us had been searching for, we were being granted tonight.
A single set of footsteps could be heard as we turned, Major Krol stepping into the center. He took the last drag of a cigarette, throwing it down to the ground and stamping it out onto the damp concrete. He looked around… his chin strap blowing in the weak air as he met everyone of our gazes… then mine… then looked around. “I want you to remember every detail of tonight, as you have every other night… when you are situationally aware, scanning for the enemy, liberating the subjugated, I want you to remember the sting of anxiety, the shake of adrenaline, the chill of the bunker, the heat of your weapon as it cuts them down… because tonight we are going to write every fine detail of our victory, their defeat, in history…” Krol’s words echoed deep into our souls. He paused for a moment, staring around he looked down… a small pause before he said “When you are ruthless in combat, remember to be patient, and reserved in victory. This conflict is for our existence… a lot of innocents have bled due to the mistakes of those who failed to listen, a lot of our brothers are now laid under because we had to bridge the gap of uncertainty with their lives. We remember them now… but in an hour? We forget them… when we raise our barrels, when we cut into those foes, and we liberate Polska!! This does not end tonight, but history puts everything in it’s place, and patience is the companion of the victor… All of our hard work will be cemented, no matter the obstacles we face in that darkness… no matter the demons, the blood, no matter what incomprehensible horrors, we will make them comprehend that to invade our land, to bleed our people, the justice will be paid in full… Load up. It’s time*”*.
The purpose in our steps was heavy as we climbed the back ramps of the MRAPS; Four of the heavily armored vehicles, one for each squad with an additional for attached personnel including our JTAC, the term means Joint Terminal Attack Controllers. With air support requisitioned to us for this operations, there needs to be a definite liaison on the ground who can directly communicate to the birds, and coordinate their fire and progress. I’d worked with many of them in the past, resourceful guys, quick thinking though I guess that comes with the position they hold of needing to quickly figure out what bombs to drop, on which target, at what precise points, whilst taking contact. He loaded in the lead vehicle with Major Krol… and soon, our convoy kicked off.
The drive was several hours as myself and my squad sat in the back of that forty ton goliath, the rumbling of the engine keeping us awake as the crap heater fought to keep the cold from the outside frost from setting in. I looked around to each of them, some were catching some sleep because even with the circumstances… better to get all the energy you can, than to stay awake for nothing. Others were checking their weapons… My gunner locked eyes with me, the same one from the village extraction… many of these men I had trained with for a while now, fought with for months.
We may have met on unconventional circumstances but those in JW Grom thrive on austere chance and create opportunity from scratch. I was pulled from my thought by the sound of a transmission, my peltors were set up for dual comms so I could both receive information from the Major and other leads, whilst communicating with my team.
Krol himself sent out: [“Approximately 10 minutes from enemy AO…”]. As the rest of the squads acknowledged, I quickly sent out [“Echo-2 Copies”], before kicking the boots of any of them sleeping: “Look alive, we’re here”. Through the exterior net armor of the MRAPS, and the bars protecting the small reinforced windows, we could barely see jack shit. I reached up, turning off the overhead light as we all looked through our nods to scan the outside. A dark wall of dense trees was shown before us, making it difficult to see… in addition to night vision capabilities we had also requisitioned ourselves some thermals… when mounted onto rifles they were bulky, made it a pain to aim down quickly, but considering the supernatural capabilities of spotting our foes we needed every advantage necessary.
I flipped out one of my tubes… scanning the outside with my scope. I looked over to one of my assaulters who had been assigned to man the turret of the MRAP, seated near the view screen as he controlled the 50. Cal. Each of the vehicle turrets had been assigned a direction to cover… we took the 9 o’clock, the left flank. “See anything?” I asked. He shook his head; “Negative… wait… I’ve got two cold signatures, front left heading to our rear”.
I quickly scanned the far tree line, at approximately 60 meters off our left were two cold signatures… followed by a third heading to our front… then another. They were surrounding us, moving at speeds so fast I could barely keep my reticle on them. Is this what the National Police saw? What they faced at that lodge without the benefit of a foot of heavy armor protecting them on all sides. Then… suddenly. Something slammed into the side of our MRAP so hard, it caused it to shake. From over the leader comms, Echo-3 quickly shouted [“Contact right!! 4 hostiles!!”].
One of the Strigoi… so bold, had charged and slammed into the side of our MRAP. I quickly looked to see the figure, a dark blue mass of cold energy through my thermal, back away without so much as a stagger… as they tried to flee into the woods, the white hot justice of Echo-3’s gun fired at them, cutting them down. “Blachowicz I’ve got a few breaking for our vic” my man on the turret called out, I spun around, spotting out the window.
Just then, Major Krol announced [“weapons free, watch and shoot for targets of opportunity…”]. I turned to him… “take those fuckers out-”. Without hesitation my vic’s turret began to quickly target them, and through the darkness I saw a stream of outgoing fire bisect one of them, the ISR of the black blood freaking out the optic so badly it didn’t know what temperature to register it as… but it did register it. As another was cut down, one broke through the tree line and latched onto the side of our MRAP. The thing tore at one of the outer net armor panels, usually made to stop RPGs. It grabbed at the bars near the windows, tearing one off… I lowered my rifle as we locked eyes through the reinforced window.
The thing… the Strigoi looked at me, skin cracked as putrefied muscle fibers seemed to leak through dead flesh. It’s teeth were corroded and worn down to sharp fragments, alongside newly mutated fangs that messily protrude from the jaws. Even through the thick walls of the MRAP I could hear it’s roar, as it then tried to punch it’s way through… it cracked the outer coating of the vehicle… but it wasn’t getting anywhere near. My machine gunner, seated next to me, seemed to chuckle at the sight, quippily saying “Yeah… fuck you too”. It’s then our vehicle lurched upwards, as we began to climb the small incline of the bunker. I knew the layout, mapped it in our head, the main entrance was built into the rocky side of an old cliff meaning we could easily set up a defensive perimeter around it, a horseshoe. Krol’s vehicle was first, taking to the right as Echo-3’s MRAP followed. My vehicle, third, left the incline and took a left and… that’s where things got complicated.
We’re still trying to work out what happened but… from what Joakim says his drone captured. Right when the MRAP turned, several of the monsters quickly slammed into the side of the vehicle, as another more bulkier one, pushed at it’s undercarriage. The result.. Was the 40 ton armored vehicle tipped over. It wasn’t uncommon, hell in some cases a well placed IED, a good shot with a recoilless rifle, have been known to tip over Oshkoshs and Maxpros all the time. But this beast? Needless to say we barely had a second to comprehend it as it leaned to the left; “Grab on to something-” is all I had time to shout. A mess of gear and men spilled onto one side of the vehicle as it slammed into the old gravel and dirt.
Several of my assaulters, my grenadier planted right ontop of myself and the others as we came to a stop. Someone’s knee slammed directly into the side of my skull, causing me to dazily bob in and out of consciousness as my face was smushed against the glass of one of the windows.
Through my peltors, the other squads were erratic;
[“Echo-2’s vehicle is down!!”].
[“Echo-3 to Echo-2… Echo-3 to Echo-2…”].
Krol’s voice came through the comms;
[“Echo-Lead to Echo-2… Fuc-... Echo-1 secure Echo 2’s flank, Echo-3”].
[“Echo-3 to other units, they’re spilling through, I’ve got several enemy combatants converging on Echo-2’s vehicle”].
I pushed the legs of my grenadier off my head as I fought to my hands and knees, unfucking my nods as I looked around… “Fuck it… we’re going lights on, shield your eyes” I muttered as I reached for the overhead lights and flipped them on. The bright LEDs bathed the inside of the vehicle as we all gained our bearings, a mess of multicam, gear, and weapons as we quickly pushed each other off. My gunner caught as he fought to realign his promask, from what I gathered one of the assaulters had landed directly into his gun, pushing it directly into his jugular, as pulled back at the rubber and coughed, freeing up his esophagus. We didn’t have time to think however… the sound of bending metal caught our attention… as the back ramp door of the MRAP was ripped clean off. I could barely believe it but as the white light of the MRAP’s interior poured to the outside, a hulking mass leaned in, the dead flesh on it’s face nearly fallen off as the hideous Strigoi leaned inside.
Without hesitation I aimed took aim, yelling “Keep to the deck!!” to any of those inbetween myself and the invader as I opened fire. A burst of full auto fire tore through it’s collar and neck, my men quickly clung to either sides of the fallen MRAP as a few more fired out. As the thing backed up, a blast of .50 cal fire quickly tore it to shreds, along with several others as I realized they were fuckin swarming over the outside of our vehicle. Echo-3’s vehicle continued to carefully fire on the Strigoi on the outside, the sounds of .50 cal ricocheting off the outside of our armor was enough to make the pucker factor set in.
[“Echo-3 to Echo-2”].
[“This is Echo-2, we’re green on ammo, equipment, men”].
[“Roger, we’re shifting fire, exit the vehicle”].
“Hurry up let’s go!!” I barked to my men, leading the way as I staggered out. I turned on my peq, taking aim at silhouettes in the brush as I began to fire. The sounds of machine guns lighting up the brush, as a sea of growls, howls, and incomprehensible roars fired back at us was the ambient noise of the night. My men quickly exited, my gunner being the last as he and I pulled back to the rest of the defensive perimeter. I set in my men to take up the frontal security, as 3rd squad took the right flank, 1st squad to the left. Major Krol and the JTAC were bickering with each other; “How far out are the birds”. “They’re entering airspace now…” Joakim said, already scanning his smart book.
I asked “What’ve we got?”. He then flipped through… to the NATO combined arms segment, quippily saying; “Apaches…”. This caused me to pause as Echo-3 turned their head whilst directing their squad’s fire “The hell… where did we get apaches from?”. “The Americans… they volunteered” Krol said dismissively as he took aim at the darkness, firing off a controlled trio. “Volunteered? They’re aware of what’s going on?” I asked.
Krol seemed to stop, glancing back at me before returning his focus “There’s a lot more going on than you realize, Blachowicz… Prep the breach, you and 1st are going on”.
I quickly pulled my breacher off the line, securing some thermite as the reinforced bunker door wasn’t going to go as easily as a conventional door breach would. 1st Squad pulled back, stacking up and preparing themselves to be the first in. All the while… Joakim gave his firing solution; “Alpha Hotel Two Five Nine, This is Bravo-4…… Type 2….”.
I snapped to my right, watching as a Strigoi managed to dark across the clear gravel field, only to be cut down by my gunner, the peq’s laser marking the burst as it tore through the beasts’ hips, as it hit the ground and still continued to claw, another GROM operator took aim and fired into it’s skull. Joakim popped up to his feet…. “Marking laser, high power…”. He then pulled out a target marking laser… if you’ve watched night operations, you’ve probably seen them.
The green laser than as it says on the label, marks targets. The pattern of which can vary… if it’s a point target, it’ll usually lasso an area, or remain on target until the target is removed with extreme prejudice. If its close air support, then it’ll be a line of the general area… and Joakim damn near marked the entire perimeter around us. He quickly pocketed the tool, turning back to Krol; “Don’t go past 20 meters unless you want to be liquidated”.
With that… 2nd and 1st stacked up at the door as 3rd squad took up the perimeter security. As Major Krol went over to Echo-1… I saw them. A single blinking IR strobe from the beasts as they moved on the far off horizon, converging from several angles… and fired. The sound of the Apache’s main gun, the M230, truly sounds like the hammer of god… the 30mm cannon shot through the dark sky, lighting it up as we saw three incoming streams tear up the woods. Only then as the sound broke did we start to hear their rotors as they broke and began to circle, firing again… then… Joakim dipped his head and looked to Krol; [“Foxtrot Mike, hang onto your teeth…”]. One of the Apaches fired off a AGM-114… a Hellfire. I barely saw it out of the corner of my eye as the Apache from our right flank fired off at a target approximately 200 meters off. A fireball lit up the forest as the horrendous roar echoed throughout… then went silent.
Echo-3 scanned the horizon carefully;
[“Echo-3 to Echo-Lead, enemy contact is starting to die down”].
[“Maintain perimeter, Close Air is to maintain fire mission until we are boots up, Break…”].
[“Echo-Lead to Echo-1, condition white has been met. Proceeds”]. I saw Echo-1 and his men quickly stack up close to the wall and gesture to me; Breaching. I quickly pulled my stack back against the wall as his and mine breacher quickly hit their actuators. Now under normal circumstances, it doesn’t take much for thermite to melt the locks off of a metal surface, in fact it’s a more precise took as alternative means get real medieval like saws, pry bars… we weren’t in the mood for precision, we need to breach their little lair, and drag them out. The sound of several pounds of hellfire burning through the metal could be heard around the corner as a sea of white and red sparks flew out… after several seconds, two of our men tossed a fragmentation grenade and a nine-bang through the opening… a series of concussive blasts and a large explosion rang out.
Echo-1 and his men maneuvered. 1st Squad quickly converged as we followed them in.
Stepping through the black wall of smoke, the dark abyss of the interior was illuminated in a white light as entered barrels raised. Shots rang out as several of the beasts near the entrance were cut down, though not immediately, rounds disconnected the shoulder of one of them, leading to their arm hanging limply by a single tendon as they roared… another series of rounds putting them down. What greeted us was a messy concrete hell of rust and debris, fecal matter, trash, and all kinds of obstacles laid in our way, our boots sticking to the floor. I thank every god we had promasks that night. I called my shield bearer up, 2nd squad leapfrogging ahead to take the next corridor as 1st squad checked their weapons.
One of my men mule kicked the metal door ahead, twice, finally the latch gave away as we tossed in a grenade. A horrifying roar was cut off as an M67 shook the walls of the ancient soviet mausoleum, frag and spall kicked off the walls as I moved in right behind my shield man. The cramped russian design meant there was barely enough space for three people, and that’s three normal people, not in 50kgs of kit, moving slowly and maneuvering against creatures of the dark. Still… we moved forward, my shield bearer and I pushing the pace as two stacked of either squad formed on either wall.
As we passed doorways they flowed in… “Door Left!!”, “Door Right!!”. “Move!!”.
Two men entered each side, no gunshots, we moved up, a roar came.
“Door left!!-”. A series of gunshots came out as we continued to push forward.
“Two down!!”. “Confirm them” Krol commanded, as a series of gunshots run out in response. From one of the doorways, a Strigoi emerged… a female… clumps of hair had been ripped from her decaying skull, as her blooded eyes locked on myself and my shieldman. The skin on her hands had been tore down to the point where barely her bones and tendons remain… looking like huge talons as she roared and lunged at us. He fired off his pistol, though the rounds did little to stop her as she pushed against our stack.
“Fuck!!” he muttered, somehow her strength caused him to stagnate, holding up the advance… fuck that. I shoved the muzzle of my MK18 into her ribcage, flipping the weapon to auto as I fired of round after round. The 5.56 salvo disconnecting her spinal column, causing her to fall as I continued to fire, along with a man to our right and left as the stacks reformed as we pushed to the end of the hall. I fell back, dropping the magazine and loading a fresh one, like clockwork a GROM Operator from 1st squad took my place. Krol was beside me as we approached the end of the hall.
[“-Prep an entry”] I radioed to my breacher, a comrade handed him one of the charges from his back panel as he took to the door, quickly securing it. We all moved as far back as we could, look away, exhale. The blast knocked metal and wood in all directions, scrapping against our uniforms and kit as we made our way in and what laid before us was… it used to be the center atrium of one of these bunkers. Soviet’s loved their grandiose designs, the complex was supposed to be a circular room around a central planning table… instead. It had been turned into some sort of church. Runes and old eastern Romuva pagan symbols written in black ink and blood across the walls, old rotten filing cabinets, long receipt terminals. In the center… several of the Strigoi were kneeling before the table where someone had been tied down, flayed, and… shared amongst the group. They rose to their feet, we aimed our barrels…
The ladder amongst turned to us… his skin wasn’t cracked, or flayed, it was smooth… it still looked dead as the body on the table but it seemed more… accustomed to it. I don’t know… evolved? Under the surface however I could see it’s darkened veins pumping whatever cursed blood ran through them as it locked two blood red eyes onto each of us. It’s nose had long since been turn off, exposing boney nostrils to the open air as it seemed to smirk. All across it’s body were the same symbols on the walls, in every cell… markings of death, of rebirth, of assimilation… From behind this seemingly Alpha emerges another figure I had never seemed before… dressed in a white cloak with a deer head.
"So they've followed the trail... they're too late" the Deer headed individual spoke, definitely not from here, a dialect similar to an Americans but... aristocratic? Each word was drawn out, assurance as if they had everything mapped down to our actions. They didn’t sound like they were from Poland or the east.
“Doesn’t matter…” the Alpha growled… and then, it lunged at us. Quickly breaking from their ground it slammed into my shield man knocking both him and myself at the ground as it displayed an intense feat of strength. Around us I could see several of the Strigoi leap at our comrades… though to no fruitful endeavor as I could see one GROM operator cut two down, as another got into a hand to hand confrontation… my breacher, crafty as they were, reached back and slammed one of the prybars of his kit into the skull of the beast.
The Alpha however was not content as it threw away the 90lb shield, sending it flying across the room as it grabbed my comrade by the skull. I quickly kicked up at it, firing my MK18 into it’s body as the rounds pierced it’s gray and rune covered flesh. The thing simply seemed to chuckle… that was until Major Krol blasted away at the side of it’s head, the alpha turned… and it’s smirk turned to a scowl when face to face with the major. A knowing pause almost like they had done this dance before…
The creature lunged, locking up with Major Krol as it swung and slammed railing. Krol didn’t back down however as he pushed against the creature, hiptossing it to the ground even as it tore at his armor and gear. But the beast pulled, both of them rolled and the Major was on his back as the thing reached for his neck. I fought to a kneel, firing into the creature messily with my MK18, trying not to hit my commander… then…
Click. A sound sends a chill up the spine of every warfighter during a firefight.
My gun ran dry. I dropped the magazine, looking to load another, but the thing came up and with one of it’s claws, sliced deep into my cheek, through the pro mask. I could feel my own blood go flying through the air as I landed hard on my back plate, spitting out red iron as I quickly tried to adjust my mask. Through my fogged up, blood covered lense… I saw my shield man raise his pistol, firing into the skull of the thing staggering it with a roar. Krol came from behind, drawing his knife he sunk it deep into the neck of it…. I reached for my rifle, forcing a new magazine in and damn near punching the bold release. ““Sir, down!!” I shouted, Krol rolled away, back to his own rifle as I fired. So did my comrade as he continued to fire his pistol… so did the Major as he fired his rifle. All of us chewing through that apex predator of darkness, that beast… the leader that had been preying on our people for so long. Layer by layer, muscle group by bone… eventually… the alpha landed on whatever was left of his back.
The silence of the fight died down as all of us checked our surroundings, GROM Operators putting controlled pairs in the heads and nerve stems of any Strigoi laying around… I flicked my weapon onto safe, letting it hang as I pulled off my mask. I dared not touch the wound on my face… the pain nearly crippling me if it wasn’t sheer will pushing me through, and adrenaline doing all it could to subdue it. The sound of the apaches continuing to lay hate drew us from our moment of contemplation as the Major went back to work; [“Confiscate any info, burn the rest…”]. He turned back to me as I shoved my damaged M50 mask back into it’s bag, chuckling as he looked at the sight; “You need a medevac, Blachowicz?” he quipped.
I shook my head, barely able to speak as I muttered; “Negative sir…”. The two of us scanned the room as my shield bearer went to collect his defense implement turned 90lb projectile, we scanned the center of the room, checking and confirming bodies, until we got to the last one alive. His white gown was soaked in red crimson and black ooze, as his dear head was mangled from bullet fire and impact from falling on it. I swear… the way his blood poured out of it though made me wonder if it was a mask. I gave it no second thoughts as he looked to Krol; “You… you can’t stop this, they’ve already-”.
The Major was in no mood for communication as his rifle snapped up and fired off three rounds to the body, four the head. The violent yet quick salvo ending the cultists life, I looked down at it, then to him as he remarked; “Have your squad drag him out to the front, burn the rest”. I stood alongside him, looking down as the sight of it’s deer head was both captivating and horrifying… the curiosity in me wanting to look closer at it fighting the primal instinct I had to burn the thing to ash. “-Haven’t seen one of those before…” I muttered, thinking the Major had an answer.
He didn’t. Krol saying “Neither have I…” shortly before he walked away, was what truly shook my soul about that entire night. Victory stood firm in our hearts that night as we stood outside of the bunker. The night sky burning with fire and white phosphorus as we watched the ruin burn from the inside from the other side of the lot. In the distance, the Apaches continued to scan and circle the forests, no longer firing…. Which meant they had driven any or turned to glass any enemy combatants within a four miles, probably both, more than likely the latter. Echo-1 patted me on the shoulder as we stood there, soaking it all in, though Krol looked none to pleased. “In the time it took us to take this one down, they’ll be trying to set up three more cells… that being established…” he said, looking to either of us, then to Echo-3. “-Hell of a thing we did tonight, been waiting for this one for a decade, cleanly, maybe more… but no time to rest on our laurels… we’ll have another task for us as soon as we’re boots down back home” he said, to which his eyes followed mine, the body of whatever cultist that was zipped up in a black body bag beside the wheel of one of the MRAPs. The fire from the bunker casting an orange hue over it’s shiny jet black outside, something didn’t sit right with me… “That wasn’t a Strigoi…” I said to Krol.
“That’s very clear…” the Major said, shoving his mask under his arm and lighting a cigarette. “So… someone’s helping them?” I asked. The meer notion of it shook me to my core, sickened me. This parasite was already badly infecting Europa, Polska… if it was spread like this throughout the world. Krol settled my nerves: “We’ll be ready… It’s not just us anymore”. As he said that, I realized what he meant… my eyes looking to the Apaches as they started to form up, leaving the areas as their thunderous propellers melted into the night’s calm, unnerving ambience.
It’s been a couple of weeks since then, Echo Detachment has been busy. We’ve gained good ground against the enemy and honestly I think in a few years, we might see a much larger change. For now… we must keep going, that being said the Strigoi aren’t the only ones we’ve been combating. Recently we’ve made contact with of some sort of extermination coalition, they’ve known about the Strigoi, and others plaguing the world, the level of corruption and corrosion on society goes deep. Regardless a lot of the units we’ve been working with are apart of NATO, such as this “4th Special Forces Group” of the American Military. I don’t know where the road from here leads, but we’ve gotten momentum on our side, finally. Just remember… these things are out there, in every town, every city, every nation… preying and waiting for you to be alone, vulnerable, so they can take you and replace you.
Watch your back, and stay safe.
For now, Blachowicz signing out. Until next time

I wasn't entirely sure where to chronicle the wonderous tale of Clyde, because this spans multiple websites including reddit. Not enough drama localized here for it to be subredditdrama , and not enough on the Discord for it to be considered discordhorrorstories, and not enough TTRPG for rpghorrorstories.
Mods, feel free to direct me to the proper place if this isn't it. Anyway, on with the disaster.
Our tale begins on a subreddit in a semi-niche community of the RP side of Reddit, which I won't name because of Rule 9. It's a medieval-themed board where you can post memes if you want, but is mainly known for it's "encounter posts" and long, long chains of IC conversations between the regulars of the sub. I myself love the place, my Doctor Who OC (isn't relevant to the tale so I'll keep info on that brief) is one such regular, having decided to become that planet's Doctor stand-in. Long irrelevant story. Check my comment history, I'm all over that sub. Any references to that character are just to provide examples for how things work there.

Some background to understand the landscape:

Character creation is pretty lax there. One doesn't necessarily have to be a knight, (such as my character for example) but most people choose to be. It's gotten some controversies in the past concerning technology limitations to some extent, mainly asking folks to flavor things fantasy-style, such as my character being viewed as an eccentric artificer who lives in a box of miracles. A phrase I see commonly for when people ask questions about this is something like this:

"You can have an F-22 Raptor, but it cannot be an F-22 Raptor. Perhaps a Da-Vinci style flying machine propelled by magic to have comparable speed instead?"

Stuff like that. The community doesn't want to stifle creativity, but also don't want people to ruin the DnD-style universe with technology far outstripping the era (hence why my character must be secretive about his Tardis; Meta-perspective it's to avoid violating the tech rule more than it already does by nature). There's also a no-NSFW/ERP rule (unless its in DMs), which will come into play later.
Due to rulings like this, it has the obvious problem of how to settle things like duels, or how various people groups see each other IC. This caused a mutual agreement over on the discord to have the combatants agree on the terms of the duel beforehand, either in DMs or OOC somewhere. Stuff like, HP per character, highest D20 wins/best of 3, or first to Nat 20. Alternatively, self-hosted Encounter Posts can have their own rules, which must be outlined in the comment section by OP. Here's an example stat block from one such encounter:
https://preview.redd.it/xlo49rq4ih0d1.png?width=1122&format=png&auto=webp&s=dd7c9908af081c25953ebebcb1ed1a3a40c04eb6

Now, where does Clyde come into play?

Once upon a time, there was a user I'll call Clyde. Clyde is effectively the most anime character of all anime characters I've ever seen in my time in that community. To put it bluntly, he refuses to lose. I don't mean like he's very determined or super good at the combat, or a clever RP-er. I mean, his characters (of which the Tupperbox list on the Discord is FULL of, which will come up later), have miscellaneous excuses as to why they can literally never lose any engagement. Not one. Hence the nickname, "The Nuh-Uh King"
Here's a word for word excerpt from the Bio of one of his characters. Keep in mind, he's no troll. I've talked to him in VC before. This is completely, unironically, serious.

She was also born with several vampiric abilities yet none of the weaknesses.

I have plenty of more snippets just like this if not worse, including one that I couldn't relocate to post here that in summary said "can cast Wish as a Cantrip" (Clyde typically prefers to use DnD for organization of his very overpowered moveset.) or claiming to be level 50, despite DnD maxing at 20.
Note: Clyde insists on DnD-puritanism in his interactions, only to immediately violate his own rules.
By far the most cursed of his lineup is the Golden Half-Dragon. This character supposedly can predict the opponent's moves before they make them. Most Encounter Hosts try to make him roll for this, but he insists it's an innate ability that doesn't have to be rolled, and he has "+30 on every roll" (despite the Encounters not typically allowing modifiers) so he cannot fail anyway. Additionally, there is no Saving Throw for the opponent. Using the same justification, you cannot circumvent it. It's always a Critical hit, and he flaunts this totally fair ability to one-shot anyone and anything, including Lovecraftian Elder Gods (We have a Warlock or two who have dark pacts with Outer Beings)
Clyde seems to have no concept of fun for people other than himself. There's been several incidents of him joining other people's threads, of course one-shotting their instance of the Encounter and declaring himself the winner. People often just ignore him, but sometimes people will try to argue with him about it, and he gets very defensive and picks a fight with the person who won't just let him steamroll their combat. Not to mention, the hypocrisy can be smelled a MILE away.
Here's another lovely message in one such argument. TLDR-ed because there was a bunch of anime exposition that I'm not gonna make you read.

"I snap my fingers and the entire army falls dead, (TW: Violence) their heads severed from their bodies in a fraction of an instant with my blade."

The person protests about ruining the fun (Encounter involved liberating an occupied village by stealth or counter-raiding or assassination of the General, a boss. It was open ended, but they asked for creativity in the post. You were allowed to challenge the army, but you couldn't John Wick them, the Host asked that a Tactical victory be done through soldiers of the Commenter's own). They argued that it was overpowered to do that alone and not very fun to host. Posts a hypothetical of what if someone with the same unimaginably powerful level of a character was able to take down his character in one hit and received this as a response:

"If I ever meet a character that strong I won't consider them canon nor interact with them. My characters are too powerful and they can't lose so it wouldn't happen anyway."

Once more, this was without /s, this was without a hint of irony. I've seen trolls do something similar before, but no one has gone to a practically cartoonish level with it. Everyone is pretty tired of it, and he's been warned by the Mods of both the Subreddit and the Discord multiple times, which brings us to Part 3:

Clyde Joins the Discord

Oh, boy. THIS is a story. So the Discord has several separate sections, places where people can interact OOC and talk about games or other interests outside of Text RP. They also have threads for IC stuff if, say, your character wanted to rent a room at the local Tavern, or conduct business at the marketplace, or visit a shop run by someone else.
The moment he discovered that a Discord existed, the Tupperbox creation channel was absolutely flooded with his characters, and ALL of them are almost impressively overpowered in some form or fashion. I won't go into detail, but it's a long list.
Pretty quickly, a nasty habit of "ghost-pinging" or @ ing someone repeatedly and then deleting the messages developed. One of his warnings was due to this habit, and to his credit it happens less often now, but if you don't respond for more than a minute after he continues, the spam begins until you return. Now, I understand sending a reminder to be sure they remember the interaction/figure out if they're ghosting, but this is insane.
The other warning so far was his rampant violation of the No-ERP rule. I'm friends with one of the mods on the Discord, and they showed me a thread of him writing a lengthy scene between two of his Tuppers in the public channels, after being told he couldn't. I've seen a lot worse, but it wasn't pleasant to read over regardless.
This adventure is still ongoing, I'll be sure to post more Clyde Stories if you liked this one. Why he hasn't been banned from both yet, I have no idea, but it makes for amazing tales.