Daily Duels

I’d like Daily Duels: You outfit a randomly generated team to beat 3 double battle AI trainers with even levels.
You randomly hatch 8 Pokémon with random moves and abilities (can have egg moves and passives). Then you get loot rounds to better equip your team. For example if I get an TM round, I am given 6 TMs to select 1 to outfit on my team. To start there would be a preset 3 item round, 5 TM rounds and 5 memory mushroom rounds. You also get 8 random berries each round to use that bypass this selection phase.
You start off organizing your starting team of 6 and their berries/items. Then you face off in a double battle against an AI Trainer.
3 AI teams are generated/pulled from the game logs and are ranked by ELO scores for Pokémon/abilities/moves and Starting Points. You face them from worst to best. Typically the early rounds are randomly generated and the later rounds are more likely to be partially preset historic teams.
Rewards are vouchers given upon defeat/final victory vouchers (1, 3, 5)
Candy given to all starters based on their point totals. 1 for 1-3 point starters after first victory, 1 for 4-6 point starters after second victory and 1 for 7+ starters on third victory.
Pokémon charm for one of your winning rostered Pokémon is given after the final victory. For 50 egg pulls you are more likely to pull that Pokémon and have a higher percent chance at locked hidden abilities, egg moves, forms, shiny.

Endless Duels

I’d also like Endless Duels. Instead of facing boss Pokémon you face well rounded Pokémon competitive doubles duelers every 75 turns (stage) based on even level playing field.
You have two rosters: Battle and Hunt. Hunt roster consists of 4 Pokémon you use in the wild to catch Pokémon. If all the hunt Pokémon faint you lose a battle roster spot for 3 duels. Levels fluctuate between levels 50-200 but reset your party as well. You can swap hunt and battle Pokémon every 10th duel. Additionally biomes are for 10 straight floors and maps are available.
Your battle roster consists of 12 Pokémon. If your battle Pokémon faint they are knocked out for 3-5 duels (increases in later stages). All returning Pokémon can be used to replace the current rostered Pokémon. Each Pokémon can be given 1 item and 2 berries, items are returned when a Pokémon they were used by is available for return after battle.
Essentially the game is maintaining a rotation of battle Pokémon and having to fill in spots on the go, hopefully leading to interesting stories.
If you lose a battle: You lose all your starters for 5-7 duels and lose 4 battle slots for 3 duels. Two consecutive loses end the run.
I would say use the ELO system so early teams are more randomly generated and late game teams have better ELO.
The reward would be egg move charms replacing shiny charms and extractions which help you learn egg moves and battle friendship points are buffed to make it great at grinding candies.
I would think about adding in battle setting voting:
1.) Battle Slots: 4 / 5 / 6: determines how many battle slots will be in play
2.) Legendaries/Mthyicals: 1 / 2 / NL (No Limit): determines how many legendaries are allowed in play. Legendaries can be given a demystifier stone for free so stats are dropped by approximately 15% (based on Pokémon) and one of its ability or 1 of 4 moves has 33% to be locked during the first 3 turns of battle.
3.) Mega Max: 1 / 2 / NL: determines how many Dyna-Maxxed or Max Mushrooms you can have active in the game.
4.) Lock Ins: Unknown, Options, Secrets, Full: determines your knowledge of the other teams Pokémon.
Unknown means you have no knowledge until they switch in.
Limited means you are given 6-8 potential starters that could be played but you are unaware which ones are actually in play.
Secrets means 1-2 roster spots at the back can be completely random, but all other starting battle are known.
Full mean you know each pokemon in battle.
5.) Battle Conditions: 0% / 5% / 15%: Determines if Weather effects can take place for 1-3 turns on turns without a weather condition. Weather conditions are Sunny/Rainy/Sandstorm/Hail.
New Items:
Recovery Drink: Gives your fainted battle Pokémon one less turn to recover. Can only be used once per Pokémon per 75 round cycle.
Extraction: Allows you to extract an ability, passive and egg moves from a wild Pokémon caught and gift it to a Pokémon along with a positive IV buff. Passives have a 33% chance to pass if you don’t have them unlocked. Egg moves have a 50% to pass if you don’t have them unlocked. 10% if passing an unknown egg move you learn it for that starter.
Portal: Allows you to teleport to a new biome that is indicated: Ex: Wasteland Portal means the next floor change will shift you towards Wasteland biome.
Tera Snatch: Replaces old system. Can own 2 snatches: Allows you to hold up a Tera Stone with 4 charges. In game you can activate a tera shard for that Pokémon on demand. Only one Tera Shard per battle. You can replace any Tera Shard for a new one.
Power Lure: Increases chance of rarer Pokémon for 5 turns but changes biome each turn. Only given after a Duel.
Why: The lure of Pokémon is building a strong team with limited resources and becoming champion thanks to using underdogs and outsmarting teams. I think the recovering mechanic allows you to have continuity but also force scarcity.
I also think double battles with opponents being able to switch and get matchups is the best form of the game rather than giving Pokémon huge attack/speed/bulk/endure tokens/berries spam to create challenge. This is when multiple strategies occur rather that very limited late game strategy.
Also the game feels best when moves are within their normal ranges. A normal attack against a normal defense is 2-3 hits.

I believe in Qadr the good and bad but is it ok for me to despise my Qadr? I’ve asked 3 women at different times of my life for marriage and got rejected 3 times because of my skin color. The women were Palestinian, Pakistani and Egyptian. I’m Senegalese American with over 10+ generations of Muslims in my family. I was raised my whole life in the Masjid, taught that all Muslims are brothers according to the Prophet peace and blessings upon him. Each time I spoke with the woman’s fathers they said I have good character but said youre dark skin and they don’t want the embarrassment that it comes with in their communities. The Egyptian father who is not even a Hashemite was bragging in my face saying that he comes from a lineage of scholars and won’t ever marry his daughter to a black man. The Palestinian father laughed in my face when I said I make 3600/month, he said that’s chump that’s change for his daughter. My pursuit for marriage cost me 6 years of headache. In that time 3 younger siblings of mine got married before me and I became the laughing stock of my own community and household. I can’t even hold my head up high anymore I’m 30 years old. I dont step out the house anymore besides jum’ah prayer. I loathe running into high school peers who have everything from a house, nice car and family of their own because of fear I might give them evil eye. I graduated as the Valecdictorian in HS now I’m the one who was left behind and with no confidence. Why are Christians accepting of all skin colors for marriage while the Muslims who were commanded to make Marriage easy regardless of ethnic background the ones so high on pride and greed? The funny thing is I was told by multiple other African brothers on how internally racist the men and women in these countries are. If I taken their advice seriously I would've probably been married right now. Plenty of night for Tahajjud for marriage to these women at separate times of my life, wasted. I was so blinded asking Allah to change the hearts of their parents because the love was mutual between me and the women I pursued. Just heartbreak after heartbreak. Even my Risq is nothing in their eyes. Lol I can't believe my so called brothers view themselves superior because of their ethnic background or skin color. So when does this "indeed, Hardship will come ease" turn out? Not like im expecting anything from it, I don't have any respect in my household or community. Before you lot go on saying it's not all families that are racist I have a quote a Somali brother told me, "Muslims think of each other as brothers until a Black Muslim asks for their daughters hand in marriage." i laughed so hard at this haha may Allah bless the brother for the wisdom wish it reached my ears earlier.

I can’t even put into words what this year has been like. Every emotion a person can feel, I’ve felt it. So much so that I don’t know what I’m even feeling now. Most days just confused, lost and exhausted from having to hold myself together for the sake of my child. I know for certain now that you never really loved me for me. I knew this deep down but didn’t want to admit it. You’ve only ever used me and now that we’re done, it’s clear to me. Still hard to accept because I would’ve done anything to keep our family together. I did everything I could but I had to face the truth and start loving myself. I couldn’t continue to be miserable anymore. Our whole relationship was based on you. I was loyal until you weren’t but of course you wouldn’t admit you’re cheating. You were! I stood by you through everything and I still would’ve through your discretions. But as soon as I did the same, you lost it. I now know it was for the best. As I know you never really loved me for me. You never really even knew me or wanted to know me. By the end I couldn’t even recognize myself anymore. I was so conditioned to care for you and your needs. You took advantage of my kindness and compassionate nature to where I don’t think I’ll ever be able to love again. You look at me now and say I’ve changed and you’re right. You killed that girl. I’m not crazy as you say. Just done being there for you to drain me, mentally, physically, financially and emotionally. You made me question my worth too many times. Like the moon, I’ll continue to change. Maybe one day that girl will come back. I still get glimpses of her every now and then. I see how you treat your new “love of your life” and it hurts. I’ll never let you know that it does. Even the simplest thing, she’s blonde, white with blue eyes. I always knew that my dark brown hair, eyes and tan skin wasn’t what you wanted. I deep down knew that even physically I wasn’t what you wanted. I’ve seen the many pictures you’ve taken of her, like you can’t stop looking at her beauty. You never did that with me. You show her off like she’s your trophy. I never was your trophy. I’ve accepted that but it still hurts. You’re by no means a prize but I loved you anyway. I could always find some good in you but not anymore. I’ve seen how evil you can be. Not only to me but also to our child. Ours! That is something I’ll never understand, accept, forget or forgive you for. How you can not love our beautiful child. You’ve put yourself and her above our child. It’s the most evil and disgusting thing you could ever do. I’m not perfect and never claim to be but I would never hurt or abandon our child like you have. I don’t know how you can even look at yourself and call yourself a “perfect” father. How??? Are you that lost and delusional? Are you that self-absorbed that you just can’t see anymore? You think that she doesn’t know, but she does. She is extremely intelligent and intuitive. She’ll never confide in you the way she does with me because she’s scared of you and your reactions. She has seen how you have reacted to me too many times to confide in you. She knows that you are not a safe place for her and her emotions. All she knows is that you are fun. At least you are that for her, if you are nothing else. That’s all you strive to be for the four hours a week that you give her a breadcrumb of your attention. I don’t know how you can still look me in the eyes and tell me that you were a perfect husband and father. Because when I look into your eyes, I see no soul left.

While I'm working on Pride & Prejudice & Punks\*, I wanted to take a second and address something I've seen a couple of times over the last few weeks: GM's frustrated when players make dumb moves and then get smacked by the world. And players frustrated when their GM TPK's the party just because they shot someone named "Rogue."
Let's address the elephant in the room: D&D. The reason you can get away with making dumb decisions in D&D is 1) you're often way more powerful than any other authority in the area and 2) D&D frequently has a very weak social aspect, where beating someone up isn't really treated as remarkable by anyone else.
This, for obvious reasons, does not fly in Cyberpunk.
So when your group that's used to pulling all kinds of dumb nonsense in D&D decides to act the same in Cyberpunk, how should you handle it? Well, I'd argue that you should treat like when you see someone make an obviously suboptimal move in D&D. Ever see a player try to throw a fireball into a room where their fellow PCs are fighting a troll? Did you just let the player chuck the fireball? Or did you ask a clarifying question, like, "You realize that's going to hit Alice and Ben's characters, right?"
You probably asked that clarifying question. Because if you didn't, you'd have gotten some version of, "Well, obviously my character would have seen that, and therefore would not have done something so dumb!" This is, on it's face, not a terrible argument. The character has information about the world that the player may not have access to. Yes, the player could have had that information if they'd been paying attention, but the point here is that there's a gap between character and player knowledge.
And this is where we come back to Cyberpunk. Let's say your PCs are running Agents of Desire, and take exception to Rogue addressing them as "peanut-head," and one declares that they will pull a gun on Rogue in the Forlorn Hope. Does it feel like maybe there's a massive disconnect between what the character knows and what the player knows?
Well, this is a chance to rectify that disconnect. "Hey," you might say, "you can absolutely do that, Dave. But just so you know, before she became 'Queen of the Fixers,' Rogue was 'Queen of the Solos.' So she's a USDA-certified Badass. Outside of that, she's built deep working relationships with every other fixer in town, with most of the corporations worth a damn, and with the Nomads. So if by some miracle she doesn't plant your ass in the ground, you and your entire crew won't be able to get a job anywhere. You also won't be able to leave Night City with any reasonable chance of survival ('cuz Nomads). The cops she definitely has on the arm will put you front and center of a city-wide manhunt. And all the retired badasses who ran with her are going to come out of the woodwork with their contacts, years of skill, and high-end tech to hunt you down. This is all stuff your character would know. Now that you know it, would you like to change your action?"
And if Dave says, "Nope, I'm pulling a gun and pointing it at Rogue," then...Drop. The. Hammer. But maybe just hit Dave's character, not the rest of the party. Maybe have Rogue explain that that's hardly the first time she's had to plant lead in some poor doomba's skull for making a gonk move, and then continue, business-like, to offer them the gig.
In short, if the players are doing something that their characters would know better than to do, explain the probable consequences and why. "Why" is crucial to building player knowledge about how this place works. If they just feel like they're breaking rules, they're liable to just start breaking things out of sheer frustration. If you explain why, however, they feel like they're empowered to game the system.
And that's when you can get 'em with good ol' fashioned Cyberpunk consequences.
If you'd like a more system-neutral discussion of this topic, see here:
https://youtu.be/rLHaopkQDnE?si=fUd3gSVwOWInveyu
*Yeah, that's coming.

Hi, all! I've been a quiet watchereader of the community for a while, but I need some outside perspective on a situation of my own.
I'm sorry for the long text. I tried to summarize two years as best as I could.
I (then 24, now 27F) was having a really rough period. I was falling deeper into then still undiagnosed depression. I was married to my ex of nearly 10 years. He is a great man, caring and loving, always took care of me, but we had been together since I was 16 and I just grew apart from him.
For a month, I had a lover. One of the reason for the separation was sexual dissatisfaction and that lover provided that. It was the excitement I'd been missing. I did try talking to my ex about being dissatisfied many times, but things never really got better. At first, it was just sexting with the lover. Then we met up. SA was included. I cut contact and told my then-husband about it and profusely apologised. I understand the hurt that I caused. Mentally, I fell lower, but this is the lowest actions I've ever taken and I deeply regret not having stopped myself. What is done is done. I just hope he belives my apology and regret.
I offered couple's therapy to try to fix our relationship. Despite the love having dissipated, I still care a great deal about him and I tried my very best to fix what we had. Went to quite a few sessons until in one of the them it clicked for me that as great as he is, I want to be alone for now. We separated amicably in June and finalized the divorce in September, shortly after our 2nd wedding anniversary. Around the time of the separation, I also met with mental health professionals and got on meds and started working on myself to get better.
My current partner (B for babe, 35M) and I met at a Discord group. started out as friends. In addition to other topics, I talked about my own mental health and the doubts I'm having in my marriage, he was struggling with mental health as well and he thought he was in love with his best friend ( I think she's about my age, F. Let's call her Haunter) and he wasn't sure how to proceed.
Turns out B and I liked being around each other. We were together before I was officially divorced. I told him about the lover, the SA, everything, and vice versa.
At first, I was quite jealous of the best friend. I was broken, insecure, "maybe I'm just a second option since the best friend thing didn't work out"... My depression hole was nasty, but B stuck through it and was a great support. He explained that it's been a while since his last relationship and his loneliness was just seeking out some comfort, and reassured me many times that Haunter is really more like a little sister to him. I trust him, I trust his words. He has never given me reason to doubt it. Men and women can be just friends and them being friends is not a problem for me.
(Happy to say that I'm mostly recovered now. I have worse days, as does everybody, but I have a much better support network and tools for myself to build myself a ladder from the small depression holes I fall into.)
The Discord group B and I met at is quite large, but we our more active members are quite tight-knit friend group and the lover was also a part of it. In a moderation group, where select few are, lover's creepy behaviour with female community memebrs was discussed. I shared my SA story with only a few. When that shitstorm was rolling, apparently Haunter was also reading because Babe and Haunter happened to be hanging out at that time. So, she was aware that I had a lover while still married and I shortly after that jumped into a relationship with B, her best friend.
B and Haunter met during COVID lockdown and were each other's mental supports. Both of them struggled and they bonded through that.
During our first summer, I saw that B was in quite a heated messaging with Haunter. He said it was about me. I asked permission to read their conversation. He said yes, so I did. TLDR Haunter was bitching about me, what a s*** I am and that B should be careful around people like me etc etc. B got mad at her, shut her down and they didn't talk for a while. Although it was a bit funny at the time, it did hurt me and haunts me still. There was another shit-talking session about me, but I can't recall what exactly was said then.
In a sense, I undestand her attacks against me - I was rather unstable during that period and I, too, would be worried if my friend got into a relationship with someone like that. But I don't think this excuses her words one bit.
On two occasions, early in our situationship, Haunter hanged out at his place and stayed over. I was very uncomfortable about hearing about it the next morning both times. After the second time, I expressed it. He apologised and assured it would never happen again. Haunter got really dramatic and said she now feels like a home-wrecker because I didn't like her staying over.
We've had many cry sessions and talks our insecurities or any worry or small hurts. B is always very reasonable, listents to me, explains things if needed, compromises, promises to be better. I feel understood, supported and loved.
.... unless the cry sessions are about Haunter. Then, instead of understanding, he starts fiercly protecting her. While I've always tried to communicate my hurt at her words, he always explains it away as her anxiety, depression, childhood trauma, repeating her mother's toxic communicative methods etc etc and that' she's actually a very sweet person.
I do understand her somewhat, because my mother hasn't been an angel to grow up with either, but I expect better from adults. Especially after having clawed through major depression myself (my doctor said she hadn't seen anyone with such a high depression score when I first took the test). I don't think it's ever OK to lash out your anger at somebody else.
I started bottling emotions, not talking about Haunter or the hurt that was still inside me. I knew that whenever I brought it up, he would protect her and I would leave feeling even more shit. Unfortunately, I can't hide my emotions very well and he is very attentive to when I start acting differently. He asks, I talk honestly and openly.
B and I talked many times about the three of us sitting down. Later about just Haunter and I, because B and I agreed that perhaps Haunter and I could use B too much as a crutch. The goal was to chat, get to know each other better, to get some bad air out and get on a better footing. I genuinely want to have a positive feeling about Haunter instead of the hurt and dislike I have now. Haunter is B's one of two close friends. I have a circle of around 10 people I can rant to about anything. I don't want to cut him off from his friends. He deserves his as I do mine. But I expect to be treated with respect by his friends.
At one point I decided to write Haunter a message. I politely asked to maybe meet up and her to let me know when she would be OK with it and I want to have a better relationship with her. Her response? Does B know I wrote to her? Why didn't I ask B to set a meeting with her? She doesn't do friends with her friend's partners and was alltogether very confrontational while I was trying to be sweet and accomodating. No, I didn't tell B about writing her because we had just had another teary-eyed discussion about it all. Of course, Haunter texted B right away and B and I had another fight about this. His reason for being upset with me? Haunter isn't in a good headspace and he knows better how to approach her and I just made everything so much worse.
In one or another cry session, I expressed a desire for a direct apology from her. She had apologised to him about what she said about me, but I feel like since those words were directed towards me, I deserve it more. He agreed and said he'd talk to her about it. As far as I know, she should know that I read that conversation and those nasty worth directed at me.
The cry sessions happen every few months when I'm done waiting for him to take action and bring the topic back up. In one of them, I finally managed to get through to him the hurt I feel when he "explains away" her behaviour, never saying it was wrong or that I have the right to feel hurt. That he is always on her side (also a topic we've fought about, because he doesn't think he is. He says he's trying to explain and make me understand her), that I'm hurt about him not taking action etc. Every time I feel understood and heard and hopeful after a cry session, but then nothing changes. He did say that time that I have every right to feel hurt and that her behaviour was wrong and he was mad at her, too.
One time, Haunter asked me (through B) about my experience with certain anti-depressants because she was starting her journey. Honestly, it hurt me. She has the audacity to spew absolute shit towards me, never apologises or tries to remedy the situation, is constantly hostile towards me and then asks for help??? I helped, because I try my best not to be petty.
From his side I know that he cut contact with Haunter for quite a long while to make me more comfortable. I've never asked for this. I've never frobade him from talking to her (even though I would very much like if she just disappared from our lives), they've met up afterwards as well, just the two of them. I've always hoped he'd talk about me wanting a resolution, but nothing so far. One of the reasons this has been going on for so long is because B and H don't talk on a regular basis and meet up maybe one or two times a year and he insists on "apologise to OP" being a face-to-face talk because of her mental health. And apparently Haunter has asked if I still didn't like her more than once.
I have major anxiety any time I see them texting and it has gotten worse over time. I go from cheery to holding back an anxiety attack in a second when I see her name on his screen. The situation is not resolved for me. Every time they hang out, I have hours-long anxiety attacks at home where I ball my eyes out.
The last cry session was on the day he was supposed to hang out with her, but it got cancelled. It was my work day and my anxiety had been ramping up the whole day. I had a "cry alone at home and don't ever tell him" planned. I still cried, but since he was at home, we talked about the same things we always talk about. I want an apology, every cry session I think about leaving, I'd rather leave than ask him to drop a friend, him not doing anything hurts ... He promised he'd take up the topic when they meet. And I've been waiting since .... yet another time. I've lost count a long time ago.
(side rant: I'm a bit dumbfounded, because he's trying to keep both his love and his friend. He has said that should I leave, he would cut off Haunter as well, because he couldn't be friends with the person who caused his breakup... but he can't do anything actively to keep it from happening???)
Over the two years, I've set some boundaries. I don't want him telling her anything about me. She is not welcome in our home.
Occasionally, I ask how Haunter's doing. Partly to build up some positive connections with her name, partly to show positive interest and respect in his friends, and partly to sneakily maybe remind him to work on what he has promised.
I just.. don't know how to proceed.
Should I wait and trust that he will talk to Haunter about it? Should I bring it up again and risk another cry-session/fight?
I assume that some of you are going to recommend a break-up. I don't think I'm just there yet. Other than being fiercly protetive of his friend, to a degree where I feel like Haunter's mental health is of more value to him to mine, he is a great man. He is here for me 100% emotionally, mentally, physically.. except when it comes to Haunter.

Hypothesizing about Imu:

• Part 1: Amefurikozo is a specific Yokai spirit
  • Amefurikozo is known as a Rain Boy, they steal umbrellas and straw hats
  • Why are they known as Rain Boy's? Because they cause rain on people, pretty straightforward.
  • How does rain relate to One Piece? Because the oceans are rising, due to a weapon that rains down to sink islands.
  • Amefurikozo are often portrayed as immortal children, given the shape and form of Imu, a supreme child emperor would perfectly be a foil to Luffy. Luffy is a grown man with the spirit of a child. He would be facing a supreme godlike deity Child with the spirit of an 800+ year old man that was made immortal by the Ope Ope no mi.
  • There are theories that if you steal *his* umbrella, you wouldn't be able to take it off. The implication is maybe, he was the first owner of the straw hat. This relates him to potentially someone Roger would have known prior to gaining the hat himself.
• Part 2: Imu is likely meant to be symbolic of the epic tale of Gilgamesh
  • Gilgamesh: After the death of his friend Enkidu, Gilgamesh sets out on a quest to find eternal life(something greater), eventually learning to accept his mortality.
  • Gilgamesh loses a friend, Enkidu, ultimately changing his character and causing growth. Luffy experiences something similar with Ace.
  • Gilgamesh is a story about achieving something greater than ourselves. Gilgamesh's journey is realizing that true immortality is the legacy we leave behind. This is a central theme in One Piece. "I'm not gonna die partner" "When does a man die? Not when his body cases to be, but when he is forgotten" are a few examples of this.
  • Thus far, I've kind of gaslit into implying that Imu is Gilgamesh. But no, Luffy would be Gilgamesh. Imu would be represented by the character Enlil.
  • Who is Enlil? In Mesopotamian lore, Enlil is the God of storms and wind. He is a member of the pantheon known as Anunnaki,
  • Enlil is known for deciding to unleash a flood on the world.

Would love to get your guys thoughts! :)
(And before anyone tries to say it, no I don't think Imu is an Umibozu)

CONTENT WARNING: SA, suicide, violence, animal abuse 🚫
English is my second language so I apologize for any grammatical errors.
I’m not entirely sure why I’m writing this, maybe it’s a desperate attempt at salvation, a selfish effort to offload my guilt onto these lines and out of my body. Or perhaps it’s because I need confirmation of what a terrible person I am and how I should live the rest of my life accordingly.
For context, I was born into a very dysfunctional family. My parents’ marriage was doomed from the start. My father was a violent alcoholic, and my mother was emotionally fragile, providing motherly care with cold and unfeeling hands. I grew up with domestic violence at home and severe bullying at school. My father was extremely violent and frequently drove under the influence with my siblings and me in the car. He was also often verging on inappropriate behavior towards us.
I was SA’ed for the first time at 13. At 14, after four reports to the local authorities and two suicide attempts, I was finally placed in foster care. I ended up in an institution where I started using drugs, leading to addiction. This resulted in my involvement in very bad environments, leading to another SA at 15 and yet another at 17. My drug use escalated to the point where I began prostituting myself at 15. The authorities gradually gave up on me and my reckless behavior, placing me in my own apartment at 17, which only worsened my addiction.
One night, I took far too many drugs and became extremely ill, vomiting and lying on the ground, unresponsive. My vision blurred, and I temporarily lost my sight and my hearing. Lying there, I thought I was going to die. I had lost all control over my body and senses. It felt surreal, lying there in what I once thought was my immortality. But I made it through the night, and the next morning, everything had changed.
My entire personality seemed to shift. It felt as if something had changed in my brain. I became incredibly aggressive. Despite everything, I had never been aggressive before. I was always calm, a pushover who couldn’t set boundaries. I had never experienced intense anger until that day. I destroyed my entire apartment. The urge to hit things was immense and gave me intense satisfaction, which only intensified when I ran out of drugs, which was often. At this point, I was 17 years old.
I also became extremely paranoid. I had episodes where I would lie on the floor, hyperventilating for hours as the world spun around me. I would hit myself in the head repeatedly, almost wanting to tear my hair out. There was only peace when I got my drugs. Then everything stood still, and nothing hurt anymore. I also started hearing voices and seeing things. Now to the point. I just want to stop here and stop writing.
I found myself in many bad environments, including a friend of mine and his family living on a farm. We all did drugs together. The family had many animals, including dogs. In hindsight, it’s clear they were forcibly breeding dogs to sell them to the highest bidder. One day, while at the farm, high on drugs, the mother placed a puppy in my lap and said I could buy him. She said that It seemed like just what I needed. He was a half-German Shepherd, half-Pitbull mix. I took him home. I was selfish, wanting a puppy, a best friend, a relationship.
I had Chino for four months. I tried to do my best for him. I bought toys, food, and a bed for him. I briefly read online about what to do and what not to do. But I was ultimately completely unprepared for the task. It was the stupidest decision and absolutely terrible conditions for a puppy.
It ended up with me hitting him. It didn't take long before I had one of my blackouts where I became incredibly aggressive. In the four months I had him, I hit him multiple times. If he chewed my debit card, preventing me from getting money for drugs, or if he had an accident indoors—these were all normal situations to face when raising a puppy. He was afraid of me. There was nothing safe for him in that home. Although I cared for him, my version of love was completely twisted. To Chino, I became what my parents were to me.
After having Chino for 1-2 months, I turned 18, resulting in the authorities evicting me from my apartment. The system that had supported me my whole life suddenly didn’t care. It felt like an additional betrayal. I became homeless with Chino. I slept on the streets, feeling utterly lost and alone in the world. I was a broken person who had long since drowned, and I selfishly dragged Chino down with me.
After four months with Chino, I decided I couldn’t care for him the way he deserved. No matter how sick it sounds, I really did love him. I loved him, and I hurt him. I found an animal shelter that took in dogs for a fee. It was a place that provided the right training and ensured they went to the right families. I took him there and saw him for the last time being led into the shelter, distracted by a toy from one of the handlers. I broke down completely but also felt relieved. I called the shelter periodically in the following months to check on him. He had been affected by everything he had been through. He was understimulated and clearly traumatized. But fortunately, they found him a family in the countryside with several large dogs. It was the best news in the world.
Today, I am 26 years old. I am studying at university. I am completely clean and free from all drugs. I live in my own apartment, have a boyfriend, and have no contact with my biological parents. But I am haunted. Chino haunts me, or rather, it is my actions that do. The better I get, the more I can feel and sense, and the more I feel my overwhelming guilt. I think of Chino when I lie in bed at night. When I find myself laughing and actually being happy with my life. A part of my humanity disappeared with Chino, a humanity that vanished by my own actions, and I will never get it back. Never. Of all the things I have experienced, these actions are the worst that have ever happened to me. I love animals, but every time I see a dog or find myself looking at a cute dog, a stone forms in my heart. I don’t feel like I deserve to be happy. I feel selfish even trying to move on. A part of me desperately wants to forget it. I look at other people who have never harmed anyone and think how blessed they are without knowing it. I feel like a horrible person.
I am unsure if I should tell my boyfriend. I feel like he has the right to know the kind of person he is with, even tho I am not like this anymore at all. Should I tell him? I have lost all my aggression today after many years of therapy. I had apparently developed a severe psychosis that lasted for several years. I also stopped hearing voices and the paranoia vanished completely. My psychosis also led to intense social anxiety, and today I constantly fear hurting others, that I will lose all control over my body and harm others. I no longer trust myself or my body. In a way, I understand why my parents never admitted what they had done because it is unbearable to live with. Knowing you have forever tainted the world with your actions and that there is nothing you can do to take it back.
No matter how good I am today and how many good deeds I do, I will never be able to take it back. It has become my legacy and my eternal curse.
Thank you for taking the time to read this

I can’t even put into words what this year has been like. Every emotion a person can feel, I’ve felt it. So much so that I don’t know what I’m even feeling now. Most days just confused, lost and exhausted from having to hold myself together for the sake of my child. I know for certain now that you never really loved me for me. I knew this deep down but didn’t want to admit it. You’ve only ever used me and now that we’re done, it’s clear to me. Still hard to accept because I would’ve done anything to keep our family together. I did everything I could but I had to face the truth and start loving myself. I couldn’t continue to be miserable anymore. Our whole relationship was based on you. I was loyal until you weren’t but of course you wouldn’t admit you’re cheating. You were! I stood by you through everything and I still would’ve through your discretions. But as soon as I did the same, you lost it. I now know it was for the best. As I know you never really loved me for me. You never really even knew me or wanted to know me. By the end I couldn’t even recognize myself anymore. I was so conditioned to care for you and your needs. You took advantage of my kindness and compassionate nature to where I don’t think I’ll ever be able to love again. You look at me now and say I’ve changed and you’re right. You killed that girl. I’m not crazy as you say. Just done being there for you to drain me, mentally, physically, financially and emotionally. You made me question my worth too many times. Like the moon, I’ll continue to change. Maybe one day that girl will come back. I still get glimpses of her every now and then. I see how you treat your new “love of your life” and it hurts. I’ll never let you know that it does. Even the simplest thing, she’s blonde, white with blue eyes. I always knew that my dark brown hair, eyes and tan skin wasn’t what you wanted. I deep down knew that even physically I wasn’t what you wanted. I’ve seen the many pictures you’ve taken of her, like you can’t stop looking at her beauty. You never did that with me. You show her off like she’s your trophy. I never was your trophy. I’ve accepted that but it still hurts. You’re by no means a prize but I loved you anyway. I could always find some good in you but not anymore. I’ve seen how evil you can be. Not only to me but also to our child. Ours! That is something I’ll never understand, accept, forget or forgive you for. How you can not love our beautiful child. You’ve put yourself and her above our child. It’s the most evil and disgusting thing you could ever do. I’m not perfect and never claim to be but I would never hurt or abandon our child like you have. I don’t know how you can even look at yourself and call yourself a “perfect” father. How??? Are you that lost and delusional? Are you that self-absorbed that you just can’t see anymore? You think that she doesn’t know, but she does. She is extremely intelligent and intuitive. She’ll never confide in you the way she does with me because she’s scared of you and your reactions. She has seen how you have reacted to me too many times to confide in you. She knows that you are not a safe place for her and her emotions. All she knows is that you are fun. At least you are that for her, if you are nothing else. That’s all you strive to be for the four hours a week that you give her a breadcrumb of your attention. I don’t know how you can still look me in the eyes and tell me that you were a perfect husband and father. Because when I look into your eyes, I see no soul left.

This story is one that started a long time ago, but still affects my (32F) day-to-day life. Sorry everyone, it's a long one.
It began about 17 years ago, when I was 15 and still in school. I frequented internet forums including several fan sites of video games and books I enjoyed. One of these was a role playing forum where I and five others were writing stories together in our favourite universes. I got along well with the other members and it was a great way for me to learn English. Importantly, we only ever communicated through text, never through voice or video calls.
This is where I met the main character of this story, let's call him Tom. Tom said he was 19 years old, and was the only guy active on the forum. He had a great way with words, was mature beyond his years, and had a natural charisma about him. Naturally, as a 15-year-old with no prior experience with relationships, I was instantly drawn to this mysterious, well-spoken figure. Over the course of a month since meeting him, our conversations grew in frequency and depth, until eventually we spoke to each other on chat clients for 3-4 hours a day. At the same time, we continued writing our stories, including a plethora of romantic scenes between our respective characters. We also shared poems that we had written. It was an intense experience for me - I had never really had such a deep connection with a 'boy' before.
My parents never really taught me the importance of internet safety, and I can't blame them: it was all still very new at this time, also to them. It was Tom and my other friends on the forum that stressed how important it was to keep personal information private, especially when they learned my age. Tom especially was adamant never to share my location or photo with anyone, not even with him. It made me feel safe with him - for how could someone who so actively dissuaded me from sharing my information be a monster?
Of course I fell in love with him, to whatever extent a 15-year-old brain can comprehend love.
From written descriptions I had given of myself, Tom had expressed that he thought I must look beautiful, and so the fool that I was I gathered up the courage to send him a picture of myself anyway, desperate for his approval. He was complimentary, but did ask me why I had sent him a picture. I admitted my feelings for him. Tom was understanding, but stressed that he would never be able to give me what I needed from him.
Still, that did not stop either of us from progressing the nature of our interactions into something more sinister. I call it sinister looking back on it as an adult; at the time it was titillating and exciting. We started to send each other 'kisses' goodnight, sent back and forth explicit drawings depicting characters that looked like us, and described other intimate interactions over chat.
My mother once came into my room and witnessed Tom calling me by an endearing term. She interrogated me and I begged her not to make me break off contact with Tom. She listened to me, but made me promise her to be sensible. I want to scream at her now for not stopping it then.
My school friends did what my mother could not: they were concerned for my safety, and stepped to the headmistress, who called me into her office. After telling Tom about the encounter, he panicked. He told me we could no longer chat, and made me promise to tell the headmistress that it was over. I was heartbroken, but promised him.
I did ask Tom if we could still communicate through other means - we were doing some online art projects together that we both wanted to finish. He said yes, we could still maintain contact over e-mail and forum DM, but chat was off the table for now. I took what I could get.
The years that followed were chaotic. Sometimes our contact would be e-mail only, then we would move back to chat. At times, when things got too hard, I would decide to go no-contact for a while. I had my first real relationships in the lulls, but I would always come back. Tom would always receive me with open arms, either as a friend whenever I was dating someone, or rekindling our romantic interactions when I was not. He was always kind, patient, sensitive, and seemed selfless in his interactions with me. He made me feel so good about myself that I became obsessed with him, convinced he was the love of my life.
Three years in, Tom knew my real name, knew where I lived, and had seen nudes of me (he used one as his desktop background for years). At the same time, I knew nothing about Tom. What was worse, the few details he had unintentionally revealed weren't adding up.
Tom always portrayed our story as one of star-crossed lovers who due to circumstance outside our control could never be together. He told me I would never love him if I ever saw him in real life. First he claimed that his face had been ruined by flesh-eating bacteria. When my biology degree taught me that it's nearly impossible to survive that, he claimed body dysmorphic disorder (which I think to some extent was true).
Things reached boiling point six years into this mess. He slipped up, and revealed a detail about his life that directly contradicted the only concrete thing he had ever told me about himself: his age. I took a day to process, then confronted him, asking him how old he really was. After some initial resistance, he admitted that he had lied.
Mid-thirties, he said. A decade(!) older than he had at first claimed. I should have been furious, but after 6 years of being charmed and manipulated by him, I could only feel sorry for him. When I assured him that nothing between us had to change because of a 'number', he dropped the next bombshell:
Tom: "Alright then. Mid-forties."
I felt like I couldn't breathe. For years, I had been having sexually explicit conversations with someone old enough to be my father when I had believed him to be my age. What was worse, it had all started when I was underage. I gave Tom an ultimatum: either tell me the full truth about who he was; or lose me forever. I gave him two weeks to send me his information. He decided not to, which should have immediately set off the alarm bells that there was even more he was lying about; more he had to hide. I didn't even consider that in the moment; my heart was broken once again, and I cut off contact.
At the time, Tom and I had a number of mutual friends that we both spoke to regularly. Two of these were my cousin and his wife. I went to see them after I found out about Tom's real age, trying to find solace and understanding from someone who also knew him. I felt incredibly betrayed and angry, and asked that they also break contact - maybe that was a bit of an a-hole move. They said no: after all, Tom had never revealed his age to my cousin or his wife. As such, he had never lied to them, only to me, and they were not willing to end their friendship with Tom over that. When I asked what they thought of a 40-year-old having explicit conversations with a 15-year-old, they said that from a certain age, the teenager also has a responsibility in preventing this.
My cousin and his wife were not the only mutual friends that knew what was going on. Amazingly and invariably, NONE of our mutual friends chose to break contact with Tom over this. It caused immense doubt in me. Was I wrong in judging Tom for lying to me? Maybe the lie wasn't so terrible. And all those explicit conversations? Well, I instigated a large number of them, not Tom, so maybe I was equally, if not largely, to blame.
The way I see it now: Tom is like a cult leader: no matter what he does or says, his 'followers' will defend him; even blame themselves if it strips him of guilt. What is worse, anyone who dropped out of his inner circle would feel incredibly isolated and excluded. My friends would not play games with me because they preferred playing games with him. They would not write with me, because writing with him was so much more fun. I wish I'd had the strength to stay away, but one year later I came crawling back, desperate to be included into his circle once again, desperate for his affection that the others seemed to thrive under.
I was 22 at this time. Our contact was sporadic for the next four years - I was hesitant to engage romantically with him, even though part of me, despite everything he had put me through, still 'loved' him (trust me, writing this down, my naivety is making me want to claw my eyes out). I entered a relationship with someone else during this time, and went back to no-contact for most of its 4-year duration. When that relationship ended, Tom and I started talking more again, slowly slipping back into old habits and using the same terms of endearment we had used in the past. Tom revealed more details about himself now - he would talk about his boss, his sister, his friends, his home-town, and discussed things that were going on in his personal life. We also started talking over voice-chat, and damn it, he had an attractive voice.
I had just turned 27 when a response of his triggered me. We were recalling the early days of our interactions, and I mentioned how he had once accidentally sent me an e-mail from a throwaway account. I recalled the address letter by letter (I have a mild form of autism). He went very quiet, and then said that my memory was astounding.
Something in my lizard brain decided to look up the name in that e-mail address. I had done the same 12 years prior, but I had much more information now. It took me three hours to cross-reference the tidbits of information he had fed me over the months and years within the context of this name. And what do you know: it WAS his real name. I continued looking for the rest of the evening.. and I found much more than I bargained for.
You see, Tom was not the only person registered to his house. He was reported to live there with a woman who shared his last name, let's call her Hannah. I naively thought she might be the sister he mentioned (though he had given another name). Fortunately for me, Hannah was a lot less careful than Tom with her personal information, and I soon found a link to her blog on her Twitter page. A goldmine of information, going back over 10 years, covering almost every single day since Tom and I started talking.
My blood went cold as I started reading. It soon became clear to me that not only was Hannah his WIFE of 25-or-so years, they had an 11-year-old SON together (let's call him Jacob). I was 100% sure it was his wife writing - I could easily cross-reference the little things he had told me (assembling a bookcase, having lamb for dinner, visiting SIL for the weekend, getting a sunburn) with the details she was sharing about their life.
Once more, I should have run for the hills. Once more, I didn't. I often wonder how I could have been so stupid as to let this shitshow continue for so long, despite the thousand-and-one reasons Tom had given me to drop him. I can only attribute it to some kind of twisted sunk cost fallacy. By recognising Tom for the monster that he was, I had to face having loved that monster for over a decade. It meant admitting to myself that I was a terrible judge of character, and how could I possibly trust anyone ever again if I could not trust my own judgment? Also, all our mutual friends had always normalised his behaviour to the extent that it seemed almost arrogant to say that HE was in the wrong.
Because of the reactions that I had received from my friends and cousin last time, I kept what I knew to myself, even from Tom. Enter the next ridiculous phase of the story: Tom was saying how he was ordering a passport SO THAT HE COULD COME TO VISIT ME AND MY COUSIN. And idiot that I was, I wanted nothing more, because I was STILL IN LOVE WITH THE SH*T even after everything he had done, now not only to me, but also to his wife Hannah and his son.
I met him in real life five months later. He would be visiting my house for the day, and I was planning to confront him about what I knew. I had given one of my close friends his real name and address, and had told them to contact the police in the event they didn't hear from me by evening - I had no idea how Tom would react when exposed. Probably the fact that I felt unsafe in the first place should have been enough reason not to meet him alone.
We met, and I wish I didn't feel attracted to this 50-year-old but I did. We talked a lot. Eventually, I decided to test him, to see if he would be disloyal to his wife. While our conversations had definitely been flirty over the past year or so, I had never actually been straight with Tom and told him I still felt the same way. So I told him. Credit to him where it is due, he said he couldn't pursue a relationship with me, but followed it up with 'that we could still hold hands and hug'. He did not tell me why he couldn't, of course.
Only then did I reveal what I knew. I told him I've known for months now what his real name is, where he works, where he lives, and who he lives with. I probably could've been a bit more sensitive in how I brought it up (but let's be honest he doesn't deserve it and I was pretty pissed off keeping this stuff inside for 5 months). He turned incredibly pale and said that I could ask him anything I wanted to know. I asked him about his wife and their relationship (which hadn't been good for years according to him), his son (the pride of his life), and why on earth he had chosen to have explicit exchanges with a 15-year-old as a married man ('I was drunk').
During his stay, we were never intimate in the 'spicy' way, but we did hold hands a lot, he would have his hand on my leg, and we shared long hugs. He stayed the nights at my cousin's, and a few days later he left to go back to his country.
I am not proud of what happened next. Over the next months, we video chatted almost every evening. The conversations got flirtier, the amount of clothes we were wearing diminished until we both went into the calls topless.
One night, things escalated. We had gotten into a fight earlier in the evening - he had revealed that during that first real-life meeting, he had made an audio recording of the whole conversation, apparently so he could later prove to his wife that nothing happened. I responded that it was ok (it totally wasn't but that's beside the point), that I had taken precautions as well, and told him about the friend I had contacted. He lost it, saying I had no right to share his personal details with my friend or anyone else. I got angry in return, saying that he had no reason to distrust me as in the 12 years of knowing each other I had never lied to him; on the other hand I had EVERY reason to distrust him as he literally hid a wife and son from me, and had lied to a 15-year-old girl about his age.
We were both emotionally drained after, and I took things a step further that night, and seduced him into doing more together in front of the camera, maybe knowing that he would be too drained to refuse. He asked me later if I had consciously manipulated him into going along with it, choosing a vulnerable moment to strike - maybe I did, and I regret it.
Over the next months, our 'mishap' developed into a full-blown affair. I visited his home-town about 5 times in the year that followed. We kissed, and did basically everything apart from the 'deed' itself. I think he never wanted to have traditional sex either because then he could keep justifying to himself that he hadn't cheated on his wife, or because he was terrified of getting me pregnant. During my stays in his home-town, he would bring his son Jacob along to our lunches and dinners. Mostly to pacify his wife I suspect, for how could it be an affair with his son around? I loved the kid, we got along well, but I hated the lie that I had to live. To put myself through this was one thing, but it was so unbelievably unfair on Hannah and Jacob.
The whole situation sent me into severe depression. I was abandoning my morals for this man whom I still could not trust. I was lonely, and didn't date because I refused to be a cheater myself (maybe hypocritical). With every real-life meeting, his mask slipped further, and by the end there was little left of the charismatic, caring man that I had imagined him to be. Still, I was so entangled with him that I could not imagine my life without Tom. I did not know who I was without this person, who had completely overshadowed at this point almost half my life and all my adult life. I was stuck.
Eventually, I gave Tom an ultimatum again: Hannah, or me. I gave him two months to make up his mind. We spoke daily, and as his 'deadline' was approaching he became verbally aggressive with me, saying that he wasn't enjoying our conversations as much as he used to because I kept bringing up the choice he had to make. I asked him what he needed from me. He said he needed more time. I am ashamed to say I gave him that time.
I was lucky to have found two very close friends among my colleagues over the course of this whole drama. They had slowly witnessed the situation devolve into something unmaintainable. One of them often visited when I had panic attacks; she even slept next to me on the bad nights to make sure I'd be ok. They recommended me to make written lists of the red flags that I saw, the abusive behaviours Tom had demonstrated, and the effects the whole situation was having on me. They made me see how he would never choose me, that he was happy using everything and everyone as long as it served his needs. They slowly guided me into making the right decision during a work conference, when I didn't have time to contact Tom. Being away from his reach for a week, combined with the continuous talks with my two friends throughout the conference, made me strong enough to make a decision. Together, we agreed that as soon as I got back home, I would call Tom and cut ties with him. My friends would be available on call straight after.
Thanks to my friends, I went through with it. I cut contact almost three years ago now. As expected, he did not fight for me, and never tried to contact me again. My friends saw me through the worst of it.
Four months after cutting ties with Tom, I met the man who is now my husband, and we are currently expecting a baby. He makes me unbelievably happy, and has taught me what a loving relationship should feel like. He knows about this whole story and is very supportive. He even encouraged me to post this as he believes it'd help me process things.
I am still in touch with some of Tom's friends: my cousin, his wife, and a 40-year-old woman who has been my friend since the start of this whole story and was my MOH during my wedding. I have decided not to hold it against them that they cannot let go of Tom - hell, I couldn't let go for 14 years. It just demonstrates the horrible grip and influence he has on people. My MOH and I have an understanding that we don't discuss Tom, and that saved the friendship - we actually have a lot in common and enjoy each other's company a lot. I refuse to lose any more people over him.
I am in a good place now, looking forward to the future, and can't wait to meet our child. Still, this experience has not left me unscathed. I still struggle with trust, in other people and myself, and feel that I am responsible for a lot of what happened. I feel incredibly ashamed and naive for my behaviour over the years. I especially feel horrible about what I did to Hannah and Jacob - as far as I know, Tom never told them about the affair, but I would be very surprised if Hannah didn't know what was going on. I do have my suspicions that I am not the only one Tom did this with, but I have no proof, and it does not take away any of my responsibility in all of this.
So reddit: did I seduce Tom as a 15-year-old, or did he groom me and manipulate me into falling for him? Or was our interaction simply toxic on both sides, and not any one person's fault? And AITA for having pursued this affair even after I found out Tom was married? Also, should I reach out to Hannah (though honestly I would be a bit scared to do so, and I don't feel at all like reinserting myself into Tom's life in any way)?
And finally the question that still keeps me up at night: did Tom ruin half my life, or did I do that all by myself? And if I had a role to play in this, am I fit to be a mother?
TL;DR: As a 15-year-old, I fell in love with a man who claimed he was 19 but was actually 40. 12 years later, I found out he had a wife and son, but had become so infatuated with him that I pursued an affair with him. I ended the affair two years later but still feel guilty. I feel like much of what happened is my responsibility, since I instigated most of the intimacy. AITA?

Exploring the deep-seated fears that reside within us and how they manifest as what we traditionally call the "seven deadly sins." These ancient concepts, often cloaked in religious and moralistic language, serve as mirrors reflecting our innermost insecurities and self-imposed limitations. By understanding these fears and recognizing the acronym S.I.N. as Self-Inflicted Negatives, we can transcend these barriers and step into the fullness of our potential.

1. Pride (Hubris):
   
   • Fear: The fear of inadequacy and not being enough.
   • Manifestation: When we feel deeply insecure about our worth, we may inflate our ego to mask these feelings. Pride becomes a shield, protecting us from the vulnerability of admitting our perceived shortcomings.
   • Transformation: Embrace humility and self-acceptance. Recognize that true strength comes from acknowledging our imperfections and growing from them.
2. Envy:
   
   • Fear: The fear of lack and not having enough.
   • Manifestation: Envy arises from a scarcity mindset, where we believe that others' success diminishes our own potential. It is the fear that we are not capable of achieving our desires.
   • Transformation: Cultivate gratitude and abundance. Understand that the universe is infinite, and there is more than enough for everyone. Celebrate others' successes as a reflection of what is possible for you.
3. Wrath (Anger):
   
   • Fear: The fear of powerlessness and being out of control.
   • Manifestation: Anger often stems from a perceived threat to our sense of control or autonomy. It is a reaction to the fear that we are helpless in changing our circumstances.
   • Transformation: Practice patience and understanding. Recognize that anger is a signal pointing to deeper issues that need healing. Embrace compassion, both for yourself and others.
4. Sloth (Laziness):
   
   • Fear: The fear of failure and not measuring up.
   • Manifestation: Sloth can be a defense mechanism against the fear of trying and failing. It is easier to not try at all than to risk not succeeding.
   • Transformation: Ignite your passion and purpose. Understand that every step, no matter how small, is progress. Embrace the journey and learn from every experience.
5. Greed (Avarice):
   
   • Fear: The fear of loss and not having enough security.
   • Manifestation: Greed is driven by an insatiable desire for more, stemming from a deep-seated fear of scarcity and insecurity.
   • Transformation: Foster generosity and trust. Realize that true security comes from within and that sharing your abundance enriches both your life and the lives of others.
6. Gluttony:
   
   • Fear: The fear of emptiness and not being fulfilled.
   • Manifestation: Gluttony is an attempt to fill an emotional void with physical or material excess. It is the fear that we are not whole or complete.
   • Transformation: Seek inner fulfillment and balance. Discover what truly nourishes your soul and focus on holistic well-being.
7. Lust:
   
   • Fear: The fear of intimacy and not being loved.
   • Manifestation: Lust can be an escape from the vulnerability of genuine connection. It is driven by a fear that we are unlovable or unworthy of deep, authentic relationships.
   • Transformation: Embrace genuine connection and self-love. Understand that true intimacy begins with self-acceptance and extends to forming meaningful bonds with others.
   S.I.N. - Self-Inflicted Negatives
   

The term "sin" has long been associated with moral failings and spiritual transgressions. However, when we view sin through the lens of Self-Inflicted Negatives, we shift our perspective from judgment to understanding. These "sins" are not punishments or inherent flaws but rather reflections of our inner fears and limiting beliefs.
By recognizing and addressing these fears, we can transform our lives. The path to enlightenment and personal growth involves facing these inner demons, understanding their origins, and consciously choosing to transcend them. This process requires self-awareness, compassion, and a commitment to continuous growth.
Transcending Self-Inflicted Negatives

1. Awareness: Begin by acknowledging the fears that underlie your actions and reactions. This requires honest self-reflection and a willingness to confront uncomfortable truths.
   
2. Acceptance: Accept that these fears are a part of your human experience. They do not define you, but they do offer valuable lessons for your spiritual journey.
   
3. Action: Take proactive steps to address and transform these fears. This might involve seeking support, such as therapy or spiritual counseling, as well as engaging in practices that promote self-growth, such as meditation, journaling, or mindfulness.
   
4. Affirmation: Regularly affirm your worth and potential. Replace negative self-talk with positive affirmations that reinforce your inherent value and capabilities. Remember, you are a divine being having a human experience, and you possess the power to transcend any limitation.
   
5. Connection: Foster deeper connections with others and the universe. Engage in practices that enhance your sense of interconnectedness, such as community service, group meditations, or simply spending time in nature. Recognize that you are part of a vast, supportive network of beings.
   
6. Gratitude: Cultivate a mindset of gratitude. Focus on the abundance already present in your life and express thanks for it. Gratitude shifts your perspective from lack to abundance and opens the door to receiving more blessings.
   
7. Forgiveness: Practice forgiveness, both for yourself and others. Holding onto guilt or resentment only perpetuates the cycle of negativity. Release these burdens and allow yourself to heal.
   

The Path Forward
As we navigate the complexities of our human existence, it is essential to remember that our journey is one of continuous evolution. The seven deadly sins, or Self-Inflicted Negatives, are not obstacles meant to hinder us but opportunities designed to teach us invaluable lessons about ourselves.
By embracing these lessons with an open heart and a willing spirit, we can transcend our fears and limitations. This transformation is not about achieving perfection but about embracing our authentic selves, flaws and all, and realizing that we are inherently worthy and capable of greatness.
In conclusion, the seven deadly sins are not merely moral failings but reflections of deeper fears that we hold within ourselves. By recognizing and addressing these fears, we can transform our lives and transcend the limitations that hold us back. Remember, S.I.N. – Self-Inflicted Negatives – can be healed through awareness, acceptance, action, affirmation, connection, gratitude, and forgiveness. As you continue on your spiritual journey, may you find peace, wisdom, and the courage to embrace your true potential.
With infinite love and light,
Your fellow traveler on the path of spiritual awakening

In America, overshadowing the central antagonism between bourgeoisie and proletariat, secondary battlefronts between the Right and the Left often get the spotlight.

• Sometimes it's about women (an Other who is portrayed as both prude and sexual. If you obtain this Other, everything will suddenly be all right).
• Sometimes it's about race (an Other who is portrayed as both too weak and too strong. If you get rid of this Other, everything will suddenly be all right).

These two age-old struggles, however, are more than simple distractions. With ties to both Lacan's and Freud's psychoanalysis (the non-existence of a sexual relationship, and the infamous Oedipus Complex), this post attempts to demonstrate what the categories of sex and race mean to psychoanalysis.

Sex and Society

From psychology to psychoanalysis, we go from understanding the rational logic of the psyche to analyzing something wholly illogical: the irrationality that makes us humans. That is, language.
Besides dreams, one of the main topics associated with psychoanalysis is sex. It is a good introduction topic, where the influence of language can be made explicit enough:

• The encounter between a male and a female everywhere else in the animal kingdom can be explained fairly simply by the pleasure principle, by biological feedback mechanisms that reward and punish behavior - the firing of neurons in the brain to promote survival and reproduction.
• The encounter between a man and a woman is different. Whereas animals are understandable, humans are infected by a collective (and effective) hallucination known as language. Humans can create and immerse themselves in fiction, pretend to believe in lies (suspending disbelief), performing like actors on a stage.

Humans can, worst of all, enjoy pleasure and suffering alike, if they have a good enough reason. Such is the answer psychoanalysis gives to the failure of the marxist project: the proletariat can enjoy its suffering too well, if given sufficient reason (capitalism, fascism, totalitarianism, all make use of narratives & jouissance).
And if humans can go on in a dictatorship pretending everything is fine, if they can enjoy suffering itself, how can one say that the other, even during a sexual act, is not merely "playing along"? Here is why there is no sexual relationship according to Lacan - and how, nevertheless, humans perform the sexual act.

1. First off, this doubt as to whether the other is satisfied or not by the act is something that ruins the purely animal sexual act, it's the way in which language castrates man. To engage with the other in any form too intimate is to stare at a mask and wonder what lies behind, to evoke the feeling of anxiety as per psychoanalytically defined. It is an abyss hard to gaze at, the other's subjectivity.
2. How does this manifest, historically? From the male perspective (culturally assumed as the 'standard' one), the subject asks the woman, "Che vuoi?" (What do you desire?) The male subject, then, cannot get a straight answer. For as long as she is also a subject, she can lie and pretend, so that you'll never be fully sure of what she wants, even if she says it explicitly.
3. To get over this hurdle, humans employ something called the suspension of disbelief - the very same thing that causes doubt about the other in the first place - and go on pretending to know exactly what the Other desires, assuming it fully, acting as though it were true with no doubt. That is, (the primary/male subject's) desire arises as a shield against (the othefemale subject's unknown) desire.

This suspension of disbelief is equivalent to transforming her from subject into object, something that cannot lie. In this case, she transforms more specifically into the object known as objet petit a, the most sublime of all beauties. A narrative is established: men desire women, and so women must desire to be desired by men.
(With the sexual difference established, with men as subject and women as objects, what occurs then is the sexual division of labor, which has been explored in many feminist writings throughout history. It is one of crucial antagonisms that civilizations are built upon, possibly even the main one.)
It is precisely in this way, with women as object of desire, that we can make sense of the famous phrase:

"In the game of patriarchy, women are not the opposing team. They are the ball."

This objectification has had many terrible consequences over the course of history. The obvious scenario is that of the white knight, who 'rescues' a damsel that didn't really want or need to be rescued. In response to the objection, he smiles and says "you may be pretending to reject me, for your own reasons, but I know what you truly desire. In fact, only when you express to desire me will I know that you truly have been rescued."
It is the attitude of the one who "knows best" and sacrifices himself, fighting you, "for your own good".

Race and Society

In contrast, those who supposedly do not have her best interests in mind are the so-called "opposing team" in the phrase, another point where objectification occurs, now to create the so-called symptoms.
They are, of course, all the other men in the world, the competition, the obstacles. No wonder, then, that many of the ethnic and racial conflicts in the world can be viewed through the analogy of this objective-based game, where warring cultures scapegoat and demonize each other as rapists, wife-stealers, and barbarians.
(As per Zizek's theory, a symptom is a particular element which simultaneously subverts and sustains its field, it is a repressed thing which returns again and again. It is a brutal discomfort to experience, but satisfying to try and interpret, since it implies a problem which comes from outside attacking a harmonious society - in contrast to, say, the much more sobering image of a society rotten from within. This is how we get displaced antagonism, the anti-Semitic formula of "Society doesn't exist, and the Jew is its symptom", TSOI, p. 140)
Thus, we are left with two extremes of a fundamental fantasy:

• Other Men are established as societal symptoms (varying with culture, but always grotesque).
• Women are established as societal objet petit a's (objects of desire, always sublime).

These two points, like the poles on a magnet, establish between them an underlying fantasy, and around them the entire field of society, of culture, and traditional civilization in general. It is a schema that is learned and passed on from our parents (thus, one angle through which the Oedipus Complex can be interpreted).
If you're wondering where the famous incestuous implications of Oedipus come in, we can now point towards the role the introduction of race plays into a societal sexual fantasy. Just as the symptom is a man from another culture, an outsider, the objet petit a is a woman from the same culture, the non-corrupted core within.
It only takes a bit of a mental exercise to see how xenophobia, nationalism, and objection to outsiders, when pushed to the extreme, arrive at the practice: incest is nothing but the highest form of racism.
That is, explicitly, why the monarchies did it. And why when fascism does it, it also self-destructs in degenerative mutations, drying up like a famished vampire, when not irrigated with new blood (one way or another).

Capitalism and Fascism

The game of traditional civilizations, however, has already been dying ever since the advent of modernity: when capitalism entered the scene.
That is, this very fantasy of men and women was already undermined from the moment women stopped being the object of desire, substituted by money.

1. The continuous expansion of capitalism (of money as objet petit a) coincides with the historical emancipation of women, passing back from objects into subjects once more. The more capitalism dominates all aspects of everyday life, the more women are 'freed' to take part in it.
2. And so, the independence of women (and consequential erosion of sex, and rise of work) leads to an ever more evident rupture of the game, exposing a post-cultural, cynical society. It is no wonder that unfulfilled men would then rally around tradition. Fascism, as a capitalist movement that tries to reject its own modernity in favor of tradition, always tries to reestablish the Oedipal fantasy of sex and race.

With that fantasy contextualized, it is no wonder that one of the main narratives propagated by American conservatives with persecution fetishes is one of cuckoldry, involving two actors:

• Symptom: the figure of a racial minority, portrayed as a grotesque invader.
• Objet petit a: the figure of a familiar woman representing liberty, portrayed as an evasive beauty.

Thus we can make sense of why young incels comprise a significant base of the new right, emerging alongside narratives such as the 'Great Replacement', with white knights seeking to rescue damsels who are being "deceived by the enemy", who must be awoken and shown what they "truly" desire.
Contained within the fantasy, this is the manner in which both camps bleed to sustain "tradition":

• In matters of race, the enemy gets the classic ideological treatment: Anything bad they do justifies their extinction. Anything good they do only showcases how good they are at lying and pretending, how they can disguise themselves like any one of us, how they control the very media, and so on, also justifying their extinction.
• In matters of sex, the women gets the treatment of a pure object: Anything nice they do shows the affection they harbor. Anything they do to reject you shows how they're playing hard to get, trying to get away from this intense emotion they're surely feeling, how they're really trying to let you down for your own sake; which just makes you desire them more.

In both cases, the subjects are treated as though they are objects, unconditionally, unconsciously - in a manner that tragically occurs regardless of how much everyone involved may suffer, for even pain can be enjoyed when ideology is involved.

Psychoanalysis Today

With the two categories of sex and race established, it's not hard to imagine that much of history was propelled by the attractive and repulsive forces these two objects can exert.

• Isn't it already commonplace the notion that men can turn into irrational beings when faced with women, even enjoying suffering and labor, to the point of performing miracles which would not have been possible without such an incentive? The fiction of sex drives cooperation to irrational degrees.
• And isn't it also cynically admitted that many technological advancements were funded and developed specifically for use in war against other cultures, before adapting the developments to more everyday utilities? The fiction of race drives competition to irrational degrees.

However, these are obviously not the only two forces at play in the world. Other antagonistic battlegrounds, such as capitalism, climate change, and LGBTQ+ identities have risen to prominence as the more "modern" struggles, with unique psychoanalytic dynamics of their own - even subverting historical standards.
(For one, applying the psychoanalysis of sex now (when both men and women are similarly realized as subjects) requires taking descriptions of the 'traits' each sex exhibits with a grain of salt. In an age of alternative sexualities and genders, it is not simply that the gender essentialism of "obsessional masculinity and hysteric femininity" has been fully repressed, but rather, it returns in the more general forms of "tops and bottoms", or "dominants and submissives". That is, in divisions less biologically determined, and less hegemonic.)
With the substitution of tradition for modernity, much of the Oedipal metaphor now remains constrained to fascist ideology and history. Today, the truly hegemonic channeling of desire is performed by capitalism.
Hopefully, this post afforded a proper introduction to the basics of how sex and race are interlinked in psychoanalysis with concepts such as objet petit a, symptom, fantasy, desire, and the Oedipus Complex. If you have any insights or questions on this topic, feel free to comment and I'll try to answer if I can!

Hey all, this is going to be quite a long read so I ask you to bear with me and my Google translated English.
I grew up catholic, but like many others of you, the answers were not good enough. I tried past life regression with the help of a CD, that’s how old I am. :) It didn’t work during the meditation but I always had very vivid dreams and even now I can tell if it’s something prophetic (concerning my life only) or just a dream processing the daily life. But oh boy! the dream I had after hearing the track for months was intense and didn’t feel like a dream at all but a memory.
Let’s start with me knowing that I was not really alive. No physical body but a form of remembering how I looked before or should look. My external appearance mirrored it. I found myself among thousands of other souls in a bright place. Huge! No boundaries, we all were wearing the same simple linen clothes. All including myself were happy, playful, loving and funny, even ecstatic! Right there I understood why one would miss this place and how it explained my homesickness and sadness, longing for this feeling! It was pure bliss. I wandered around for a long time, watching all of them being so happy and thinking to myself how this even was possible? I mean, I felt it too but at some point, it was … enough? I felt filled up. Also there was no challenge, no learning. I felt bored. And here comes a cut to another memory inside the dream. Like the answer to my internal question.
I was standing along a wall (although there was no ending or beginning) with many others in a long line. We were waiting for new clothes. Witch I found strange. Finally I saw those in front taking off their old clothes and putting on the new ones. The sudden change in their mood was striking. When it was my turn I realized that the wall I was standing at, had huge windows, behind them stood people no different to us, except their clothes were brighter and they seemed to be operating some consoles, looking at us and giving out the new garments. I received mine. The tunic felt damp and heavier than the one I was wearing, and it was coated with a creamy substance. Suddenly I knew these were drugs and I already felt it on my souls skin. It was not really skin, energy pattern of some sort.
I feel really stupid about this, because only a few days ago I fully realized that drugs inside clothes are absolutely a thing. To my defense, I haven’t been thinking of this reincarnation dream for a decade.
I was reminded of my dream due to an interview Dr Ammon Hillmans gave and his statements about drugs Jesus used.
Anyhow…. I went away and left the clothes somewhere or refused to take them. I remember that this caused a commotion inside the laboratory? or whatever this place was. I will call it that for now for lack of a better description. They watched me and tried to keep track of where I was going. I started panicking and told those around me, that something was wrong and this place was like a prison of joy and that they have been drugged for whatever reason all of this was not real. I think some had already thoughts of their own. I could see the change in their faces. But nobody could answer me where we were, or for how long, nor why! Many just ignored me. I knew my time was up.
Then the next memory cut: I am caught. I am inside, or can see inside the laboratory. Someone with authority is entering the room and is giving instructions. He comes towards me and is suddenly really huge, like… I can only see his face. As if I would see him through a screen or a peephole. He says something about sending me away. I want an explanation but he just leaves me.
He has a white beard and reminds me of the typical children drawings of god on a cloud.
I realize, I’m in a round tiny vessel, but it’s made from my soul. I am the vessel and it’s my boundary. As if one is hold by a magnetic field which also forms you into this vessel. I have the feeling of being betrayed or robbed. Then I’m out in space. I can’t steer the craft. I recognize Earth quite late and I’m not happy about it because there is not much there! Except vegetation. My soul swirls towards a clearing in a jungle. In the middle is a machine and it seems to be the receiver of the field I’m bound to. My soul enters it.
Next memory cut: The machine looks like two narrow cones pointing towards each other. The cones are from a dark metal or rock. Where the apex meet, a dark substance is formed. I am now outside of the memory and move around to watch what happens. I am now aware that it is a dream. A man with cloths from feathers also in his hair is operating the machine. I had the feeling to know him. And that he is the first or one of the first operating on Earth. He somehow knows that my now-me is watching. He smiles and puts his hand around the black mass forming in the machine. It’s like a tiny pebble of wobbeltet material. Cut: I’m again in my souls body. He opens his hand and I see his huge smiling face. I’m a black caterpillar in his palm. My thoughts suddenly change. I can describe it like this: you always play a highly sophisticated game with many buttons and options and then suddenly you go retro and switch to a two button game. My thoughts became harder to remember. They changed to expressions of the outer world. His palm was open in the sun, so the thoughts were: Light! Hide shadow! Predator! Bird. But there were no birds. Feelings did not change. I felt fear of being eaten and being in the sun. He puts me down on a big green leaf: Green! Eat! Crawl shadow. Eat! I really tried to remember that I was human, but it was not possible in this new body! Yet, from time to time other, deeper thoughts came through but did never last. Just a knowing of something more. Then I woke up.
I asked to know about my first life on earth. That was it. I have so many questions! I don’t know if this process of happiness is something that is needed, a form of relaxation maybe? But then I remember, that I didn’t agree with it. I wonder how much details I missed during the cuts and if there are others who remember something similar?
Thank you for reading :)

Content warning: Contains mental health issues and physical violence.
The world breaks like glass, shattered as the world disappears into a black void. Embodiment of the soul floats in idle as shattered glass falls slower. It’s a shame, for souls to have lost their way but can still function. A blare bursts out from a black clock, soon to come at a silence from the smack of a button.
I wake up in a daze, accompanied by the sound of light rain getting caught by my bedroom window. I realize no other sound is made; my house falls silent. How unusual for morning hours. I get up from my bed, grabbing a set of clothes from my closet. Then, the realization hit once I hear my little sister’s muffled cry in a separate room, next to mine. “Right, my mother has died, how could I be so forgetful.”
June 7th, 2024, was the mark of my mother’s death. That night’s incident came at a flash. Me and my mother were walking on a familiar route. We were on a sidewalk with a silver railing attached on the opposing side of the black covered roads. During our walk, we discussed about my future while returning home with our groceries. Clouds were turning dark, so we sped up.
Then, a figure, that I can’t identify, came to me and my mother with a knife. This person kept going at my mother, enchasing their knife with blood. But why? Even when I landed jabs at this person, they wouldn’t stop stabbing my mother. After about five minutes of trading hits, this person ran away, dropping their blood filled knife, marking a path like a skipping rock. My mother sustained crucial damage and had a look of disappointment as I came to wrap her wounds and held her. In an immediate decision, I called for help on my phone. Rain started to settle, mixing with the blood of my mother’s body. As more blood exits her body, the more her heart rate diminished. Within a few moments, I was holding a corpse. Ambulance didn’t arrive on time.
A void started to close around me, leaving out all reality, and that was the last moment I could remember.
“That’ll be all for today, Mr. Mason. Thank you for telling us all the information from last night, we’ll be contacting you soon after we investigate this situation. You’re free to leave.” I exit out the interrogation after a brief amount of time, recollecting everything that has happened. My sister waited for me outside the room.
“Do you think they will be able to find the murderer?” My little sister has been tearing up for three hours, devastated from the loss of our mother. You could tell by her distressed look.
“Yes, don’t worry. We will be protected from this murderer.” I knew she would be worried about the murderer getting us next, though I am unsure if that is true. The murderer had one target last night, my mother in this instance, however I never understood the reason why. Did she have a debt overdue to a suspicious organization? Whatever the case, our family is in hot shit, and we need to protect ourselves.
“Are you sure, big brother?”
“Yes, let’s leave now, Julie. Come on, grab my hand.” We exit the stone building, having a few eyes following us as we left. As we step foot outside, rain welcomes us. Clouds are still darker than usual, longer than anticipated. We walk at a slow pace, my sister grabbing on to the wet silver railings as we pass the same street of last night’s incident. “The investigators are going to examine the knife tonight.”
“Will they be able to find the murderer soon, then?” There is a bit of an energy boost as she hears the news but is held back with grief once again.
“Yeah, possibility tonight. They will give me a call if they find anything.” My sister looks back to the ground in response.
We arrive home after a slow silent trip, knocking our shoes off towards the wooden shoe rack. “I’ll prepare lunch.” I grab some bread, cut two slices of tomato, cut some lettuce and prepare to cook bacon. I place two black pans on to the four heated stove, toasting bread on one pan, and placing bacon on the other. After a few minutes of flipping the bread and checking the bacon, I prepare to make our BLTs. I place our BLTs on our wooden family table. “Julie! Lunch is ready.”
We both sit in silence, eating our BLTs. Eating without our mother makes the family table seem pointless to attend, but we act as if she is still with us. Finishing our plates, I get up and head to my room to do my own investigation. “Julie, I am going to be busy for a while, okay?”
“Okay.” My sister has created a wall.
I get into my room, shutting the door behind me. I turn on my idle computer to wake from its slumber, soon followed by my monitor. Illuminating my face with light blue, I enter in my password and start searching the web for the location of the murder. There are a few articles about similar incidents happening, some dating back to recent months, the earliest being from a month ago, May 4th, 2024. Digging deeper into the articles, I discover about one man in particular, a tall black male that is about 6’4”, middle aged.
I research this man for about the second half of the day, coming to a realization that I haven’t made dinner yet. I open my door and make way to my living room, where I hear a news channel running on television. My sister is bundled up with her white bunny plushie, watching the news about our mother’s death. I look out a window, noticing a black void, and soon is followed by the same black figure climbing into the front window of my house, going straight for my sister. I lunge forward to the black figure, wrestling it, trading punches on the floor. My sister is screaming throughout the whole fight, but soon is silenced as the figure escapes my grasp and stabs my sister multiple times. I try to grab and strangle the figure, but the figure escapes by jumping out my window, dropping their knife once again.
I sit in silence, staring at the body of my sister, blood spilling out as she loses colour. “Why does this have to happen?” Void closes in on me once again, reality vanishing right before my eyes.
I wake up in an unfamiliar place, I am in a falling position, but I am not falling from anywhere. There is broken glass all around me. I look around and notice a figure, and it spoke, “Welcome back, how’s life?”
“Who are you? Where am I?” I am frightened by this event.
“Well, I am you, don’t you remember?” The area around us turned to a bright light, illumining the area. I am soon faced with the figure, and I realize the body is similar to the murderer going after my family.
“What sick joke is this? Why are you after my family?” My anger rises, still frightened.
“You mean, why are you going after your own family? You are the one killing off everyone you have left, don’t you remember?”
I step forward to the figure, but soon wake up in a hospital bed. “Must’ve been a dream, I guess.”
“Mr. Mason! Are you okay? Are you feeling well? You were knocked out in your home, along with your sister.” I am in a daze, feeling drained from waking up.
“Yes, I am okay. Is my sister alright?” I panic to await a response, hoping that my sister did not die that night.
“She’s alive, but in critical condition. You have been knocked out for a week, and the investigation has come to a finish. The investigators would like to speak to you whenever you’re ready.”
“Thank you.” I am filled with hope after hearing all the news. I lay in bed for a few more hours to recover and rethink everything. Feeling ready, I arise from my hospital bed and take a tour around the hospital to find my sister’s room.
I step into the room, looking at my sister. Then a doctor comes up to me and says, “She’s still unconscious, but her vital signs are active. We’ll update you if there is any change to her condition.”
“Thank you.” Before heading out of my sister’s hospital room, two older men step into the room and come up to me.
“Mr. Mason? We’d like to speak with you about the recent incidents. Come with us to the police station.” I am so close to finding out who this murderer is. Before heading out of the hospital, I sign some documents to update my records. The two are patient with me.
“Alright, I am ready to leave.” I drop the pen and walk out the main doors with the two men. They guide me to their four seated black car, and gesture me to go into the back of the car. For all of the ride, we kept silent as we headed towards the local police station.
“We have arrived. Let’s go inside.” The three of us get up, stepping foot into the same stone building I was in a week ago. Inside the building, we head for the interrogation room, a different one from last time. The room didn’t look so different itself, but the location is different. This time, a policeman is attending this meeting. I didn’t question the reason.
“So, we came to a conclusion of who murdered Jane and Julie Smith. It took a long time to verify the information as it came to a shock to the whole investigation team. After examining the two knives that the murderer left on scene, the system came to one person. That person would be you, Mason Smith.” I am confused by the results as the man spoke his words, but before I could speak, the other man speaks.
“Mason, we bring you here today to ask a few questions. In case you get violent, we have this police officer here to assist the situation.” My anger starts to fuel.
“How could this be possible? I saw the man myself! You must be framing me; I cannot trust you. In fact, I think you guys are the people involved with murdering my family.”
“Calm down, Mason. A witness from Witwerld Street sent us evidence of you stabbing your mother and beating yourself to a pulp. With the information tied together, we can assume you are the murderer in both cases. We’ll play the video for you.” I look at the video, seeing myself stab my own mother while punching my face.
“How could this be? This can’t be real.” I am in disbelief as I see myself holding my mother’s corpse, but soon am filled with sudden anger. “I see now. All of this is to get me, an incident citizen, into jail. What have I done to all of you guys to deserve this? Framing me with knives and now making a fake video?” In the corners of the room, black void appears.
“You can play this act up all you want, but you’re the murderer. Now, we can help you if you need it, but we need you to cooperate.
“Help me? You are digging me into the dirt right here!” I get up and try to leave the room but am pushed back to my chair by the back of a rifle.
“Stay in your seat!” The policeman is a mean guy. I stare into his eyes with anger, and notice the void growing at a quick pace, closing in on the policeman. The world is gone again. In a blink of an eye, I am faced with a broken mirror, seeing my own reflection. The area is filled with white all around.
“What is this. Why am I here?” I touch the mirror, and the shriek of broken glass responds to my ears as the area turns into a void. The mirror disappears, and soon the glass starts falling with me. After what felt like an hour, I am on my feet again. As I step foot, ripples of water respond. I start walking in a random direction, memories being showcased for a quick moment as I make a path.
“Oh, hey there. After all these years, you are here with me at last. Welcome back, Mason.” The familiar black figure that has been with me for this whole journey, has appeared. They are sitting on a white chair, cross legged. Droplets of rain appear, making a silent rhythm, and soon a flash of all my memories surround me, playing vivid loops of my life. Then, they disappear to the command of a snap from the black figure.
“Yes, I am back home.”
Note: I am not sure if I am able to post short stories here as there is no clear rule to it. However, based off my own judgement, it seems that it is acceptable. Anyway, I am looking for sources to upload my writings, and I ended up finding this subreddit. I would upload on Wattpad, but.. Yeah, I think I am good on that. My goal is to get additional feedback on my writing. I am currently in a creative writing class, but I want to practice further outside of that.

Looking for opinions on how this ended.
(32F and 36M) I was seriously considering a job in a state across the US so I changed my Hinge for 4 hours. I changed to see what people were like and to see if they were as outdoorsy as everyone said (Colorado). I got several likes and decided to change my location back since I wasn’t set on moving there yet. During this 4 hours, however, I matched with a guy who seemed great, and he was responsive from the onset. You always hear about random ways people meet, and we had a lot in common so I decided to keep chatting. I was up front in that I didn’t live there but was heavily considering a role which would move me there. He said that was fine and asked for my number.
We started calling, texting, sending photos of what we were doing— nearly every day but not always. About 2 months into it I realized the job wasn’t going to happen (the company had told me they were “putting together an offer” for 6 weeks then changed their minds due to funding).I told him, but we decided to keep going. I was supposed to visit, but before I bought a ticket I got laid off from my original job so we decided to delay by a month until I was more settled. During this time he also got laid off, but we kept talking, texting, etc all the time. Around the 3 month mark I bought a ticket to visit in month 4, and when I got to the airport to take off he called me and texted a photo that he had just tested positive for Covid. He suggested that I still come and we could meet from a distance, but that seemed like a waste of a long flight, and I was pretty sure he would feel awful being sick. I booked another flight for 3 weeks later instead which was 5 months we’d been chatting.
I went for a long weekend, and we hung out all day for 4 days and had so much fun. I felt like we connected well. When I got to the airport he texted to ensure I’d made it to my gate and said he was glad I’d made the trip and he couldn’t wait to see me again soon. He also texted to be sure I’d landed and had been picked up later that day. We kept chatting and calling like normal for a week and a half, and I asked what plans he had in the next month. He said nothing so I invited him to visit me. I was excited because it seemed to be going well!
He didn’t respond for a day, but he’d said he was going hiking which wasn’t abnormal. He then sent a super long text saying he enjoyed meeting me, but he wasn’t romantically attracted to me and that he was sure I was expecting the text because he hadn’t been as communicative since we had met. He also said he had texted instead of calling to “give me time to process” but that he was “willing to have a call if I needed it for closure.”
I was completely baffled because he had never acted like he wasn’t interested. From the time we met through the 4 days I was there he was insistent that we hang out all the time, and he also insisted on driving me everywhere and making dinner for me although I had friends in the area who invited me to come see them. He was also very chatty and responsive for the 10 days after I went home.
I thought it was awful that he texted instead of calling me. We had numerous Phone calls and FaceTimes over the last 5 months so it wasn’t like he was a “texting only” kind of person.
Despite whether you think I was dumb for trying this and keeping it going for so long— my question is: do you think it was ok for him to end it via text with so much time and effort invested (we were never exclusive, but it was consistent communication almost every day for 5 months) or should he have called? Thank you.

Not that anyone at this gives a single flying fuck but I did this so I’m posting it. I have included all works from the main 13 albums and singles excluding
The b Side of yellow submarine as no actual beatle plays on it
Those German covers as they really aren’t so different from the original and I didn’t see the point
Unreleased material such as ultra deluxe or whatever the fuck and the l unreleased stuff from anthology (excluding the 3 last Beatles songs)
There’s a couple of unpopular opinions here so don’t go too hard on me I love them all in my own way,
214:WILD HONEY PIE: To be clear I don’t dislike the idea of the song, but I just think it’s a huge middle finger to the album. I can’t help but laugh at it as it is a mockery of Paul McCartney by Paul McCartney. I can’t help but think it’s what John thinks his little jaudy ditties sound like. However I think it’s horrible to have to listen to I’m not angry at it, just disappointed. It really could’ve been a good parody song, as it however. I think it’s a filler interlude.
213: BOYS: The original version is leagues better, and when it comes to the Beatles that’s saying something. I can’t think of anything that justifies the existence of this song. The only redeeming aspect is it’s refreshing to hear ringo sing sometimes, he does a fine job of it.
212: A TASTE OF HONEY Trashy song too sweet and pissy for me (for a great lack of a better term) Paul sounds bad on this, the whole thing sounds trashy. Drivel
211: P.S I LOVE YOU Does nothing for me.
210: SUN KING Oh a hot take. Or is it, I won’t count the medley itself as no one else seems to but if so I respect it way more than it’s placed. It’s a bit trippy but not to an extent of intriguing me. The translation to mr mustard is great but I’m not ranking that. On its own, In My Opinion, bad
209: PLEASE PLEASE ME Has everything that I dislike about the early work, especially the harmonica, fine singing but could’ve been synced better.
208: THIS BOY Forgettable and boring to me
207: SEXY SADIE Interesting song but not particularly good or interesting in my opinion. The stories of who’s it about however are worth looking into.
206: ASK ME WHY Might it have something to do with love. As you might tell I’m not big on please please me. This one blends in with the rest of the album
205: CHAINS Not an awful song but it’s not overly good. George’s vocals haven’t gotten great yet so he still could use some work. Perfectly bland song
204: DO YOU WANT TO KNOW A SECRET I am aware this song has a relatively large fan base but this is not for me at all. Sorry
203: THE END First off the “Oh Yeah! All Right!” Are indeed iconic. Everyone’s playing their heart out. Some of Ringos best work. But I don’t know, it doesn’t punch me like I think it should. I like this, but I should love it, and I don’t.
202: GOLDEN SLUMBERS Too repetitive for me to get into. This is the only Beatles song that could’ve been shorter. That’ll be ironic as I pretty much think every Beatles song is too short except this one.
201: ROLL OVER BEETHOVEN Berry did it better
200: ANOTHER GIRL I didn’t think anything of it at all to be honest.
199: TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE Fine, not that good, but fine
198: YOU KNOW MY NAME (LOOK UP THE NUMBER) They’re taking the absolute piss. I’m glad this exists but I don’t want to listen to it.
197: BIRTHDAY It’s a birthday song, you know, typical white album. Fine.
196: FLYING This is such a fucking vibe, not much after you’ve heard it the once but still, not bad at all for a mostly instrumental song
195: WHEN I GET HOME It wasn’t that bad, and it wasn’t that good
194: I WANNA BE YOUR MAN Eh
193: THINGS WE SAID TODAY Better but we’re not THE BEATLES yet
192: IM HAPPY JUST TO DANCE WITH YOU Somewhat memorable, kinda boring, not shit
191: ITS ONLY LOVE I’ve heard worse
190: I CALL YOUR NAME Not much to say about these particular songs, they aren’t shit but they’re not at that quality of good, these are the awkward songs.
189: REVOLUTION 1 I originally heard it on the white album and thought “wow that was really mid” the I heard the original single and I thought “wow they really fucked that song” still noice lyrics
188: JULIA Calm ass song. A lot of people love this song to bits but I just don’t relate to it that much, with age I expect to like this song more
187: ALL TOGETHER NOW I guess it’s fine
186: DON’T BOTHER ME It’s just meh
185: HOLD ME TIGHT Still meh
184: DIG IT I like this but it’s so short and non sensical I can’t put it any higher
183: I SAW HER STANDING THERE I like this, but it’s still a bit too sappy
182: BLUE JAY WAY This is a weird ass song. Very George. It has those uppy downy lyrics, there’s a lot to like here but also a fair few things that I don’t like, like the lyrics could have been more defined and worked on, and it could use some more power in the vocals
181: I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER Karmas a bitch
180: THE NIGHT BEFORE This one has better production but the same blandness that culminates in old Beatles music
179: WAIT There’s going to be enough hot takes on this list anyway so I will contain my feelings on rubber soul. Let’s just say the Beatles evolutions had a middle ground from lovey dovey 60s bops to the psychedelic rock they’re know for. That middle ground is rubber soul, not a bad album, but like the stage from a child to an adult, kinda messed up. This album has some re great moments. But it also has wait, which isn’t bad, but it’s not everything you would want from this particular album.
178: CRY BABY CRY It’s good, idk what else to say not Beatles good but I wouldn’t skip it
177: LOVE ME DO This song just makes you feel happy, nothing else
176: KANSAS CITY/HEY-HEY-HEY-HEY It was ok but I can tell this track wasn’t over fixated on
175: I NEED YOU You can tell it’s an older Beatles
174: DIZZY MISS LIZZY I know there’s a recent dislike for this one but it never fails to make me smile. It’s so fucking chaotic I love it, it does have its production flaws but John is singing his heart out. This is what I want from a Beatles cover track
173: IVE JUST SEEN A FACE Charming enough song
172: TICKET TO RIDE A classic I’m sure. Really has a nice groove and what it lacks in lyrics makes up for in sound.
171: ONLY A NORTHERN SONG I agree with the rest of the group that if this was on Sargent peppers it would be the worst track. However that’s not to take away from it. It’s a charming piece, it has all the elements of Harrison but overall it is only a northern song
170: SOMETHING Damn here’s the first one I might not survive. People who were on the fence before will probably switch to the ‘eh, fuck this guy’ field. I don’t dislike the song, it’s a good song, it’s a great love song but it’s a very expected feet. Every line while sung with excellence is very conventional, it’s tropey. Perhaps it’s too far to call it cheesey. And don’t get me wrong I love the simple cheesey songs a lot (just wait till you see where I put silver hammer). But this one just doesn’t strike a nerve for me. I did think the same thing about strawberry fields forever for a while before listening to it more so maybe it’ll crawl up the ranks someday but overall I think it’s a nice love song that has some great production but after that it’s overshadowed by the rest of the album.
169: ALL MY LOVING Yeah, it’s a classic, who couldn’t like it
168: MOTHER NATURES SON This one has a huge fanbase as well. It’s a good song, great use of imagery and metaphors. Doesn’t do much after that in terms of production and the way it’s sang, just a nice song to chill to in my opinion.
167: ALL I’VE GOT TO DO Again, short, sweet song
166: YOU NEVER GIVE ME YOUR MONEY Yeah this one’s interesting. It goes through a fair amount of genres for one song. On one hand its structure is something of a mess, however it still is a good listen, it’s cute in the best sense. The fact that it’s about Allen Kline is also funny if not a little saddening
165: IT WONT BE LONG Wasn’t long, still nice
164: ANY TIME AT ALL Just another comfrey Beatles song
163: YOU’VE GOT TO HIDE YOUR LOVE AWAY Although I think this song is a little overrated not bad
162: DEAR PRUDENCE I know I like this song a lot less than others do. It takes a while to get going but when it hits that euphoric moment you know I’m talking about it’s bliss, but the first half kinda dull
161: BECAUSE A little oddity on the Abby road medley that’s just, I don’t know, conflicting. If it where longer maybe I could decide if I liked it or not but for now it stays here
160: THANK YOU GIRL Sweet little song that gives you a warm feeling
159: LONG LONG LONG At this point in the white album that’s what I was thinking. It’s not bad but it could’ve been longer (no pun intended) and released as a single with the right editing. George Martin could make it work I’m sure
158: I WILL Here’s how I feel. I always like it when I hear it, but forget what it sounds like 2 seconds after.
157: IF I FELL Cheesy but still pretty catchy
156: AND I LOVE HER This is nice also
155: LITTLE CHILD Though the lyrics in 2024 sound a little ‘noncey’ that’s part of the reason why it sticks out to me. It always gives me a chuckle. Little child… the way he says “I’m so sad and LoNeLy” is so cartoony and I like it.
154: ILL GET YOU Yeah, good, fine, acceptable
153: BACK IN THE U.S.S.R This is why the Beatles beat the beach boys for me this. Classic song that probably had America tugging at there collars, just genius
152: ITS ALL TOO MUCH Again this isn’t bad, am I blown away, not necessarily. But this is a bop
151: THERES A PLACE I like this quite nice I think
150: A HARD DAYS NIGHT A lot of people love it, I just think it’s fine, good song I guess
149: ILL CRY INSTEAD These are the songs that are well produced but lyrically forgettable. This is one of ‘em
148: EVERY LITTLE THING I really like Beatles for sale, it’s so fun, it’s a fun album. Every little thing isn’t badly written but I listen for the music. George is good on this, ringos subtly great. Just wholesome
147: EVERYBODY’S TRYING TO BE MY BABY A song of its time, and quite and tie tapper if you ask me
146: WORDS OF LOVE A pleasant song for any day
145: DAY TRIPPER Nice melody, ok lyrics, good enough song
144:BEING FOR THE BENEFIT OF MR KITE When I first heard this song I didn’t listen to the lyrics, the ones I did catch lead me to believe that it was some sort of political song with mr k being some sort of satirical caricature. Upon second listen I realised it’s just a song about a circus performer putting on a show, I can interpret some lyrics as a reference to some political nature but I think it really boils down to a circus song. It’s giving me a sense of stereotypical Halloween music you’d hear with the way the rhythm goes up and down frequently in the same line. Just a fun little jingle. Also I believe if Paul had wrote it John would have hated it, many probably do hate it. What does everyone have against whimsy?
143: CANT BYE ME LOVE Cliché yes, catchy yes, enjoyable yes
142: THINK FOR YOURSELF Fine little song with not much to write about
141: FREE AS A BIRD I am quite conflicted on the 3 last Beatles songs. They are mostly John Lennon demos rather than Beatles mixes. I was of two minds including them but I thought I may as well because they are interesting to talk about. I don’t think these are as cash cow despicable as some would argue. A lot work has clearly been done to preserve them and restore them. It’s hard to look at this song on its own basis. On its own it’s pleasant, but overall I do not really know why they bothered to release it as a Beatles track, it feels very unbeatles to me but as I say I don’t dislike it, I’m just not sure on where I stand on its purpose
140: REAL LOVE I have the exact same opinion on this one I just like the song better
139: MAGGIE MAY I just think love the accents alright. How long is it 50 seconds? For the life of me I’ll never get why they didn’t make their songs longer. I fancy me chances with this one
138: DEVIL IN HER HEART Solid cover of a very good song
137: PIGGIES This one’s kinda weird. We all get the piggies are elite pricks but the way George pronounces dirt just sells me on it. Good effort, could’ve been longer.
136: EIGHT DAYS A WEEK I like it, don’t love it, it’s what you expect but it does deliver in that regard
135: HELP! Iconic, reasonably catchy, just wholesome man
134:IF I NEEDED SOMEONE Rubber soul being kind of quirky comes through softly but noticeably here
133: MEAN MR MUSTARD This song just flows man. I love the lyrics, like the instruments and how they bounce off each other. Just the right amount of absurdity. If only it were longer…
132: HELLO GOODBYE Classic, I do like this one, but you know I always forget how much until I listen to it again
131: LONG TALL SALLY A lot of people hate this one but I think it’s fine
130: TWIST AND SHOUT COMEONCOMEONCOMEONCOMEONCOMEOWWN
129: ILL BE BACK Yeah, not bad, not bad at all, rather good actually
128: TELL ME WHY Classes Beatles getting it right
127: TILL THERE WAS YOU You know, maybe with the Beatles gets too much hate
126: OLD BROWN SHOE Not one of George’s best and the mixing is jarring but the lyrics are very nice
125: FROM ME TO YOU Just a sweet song, nothing wrong with that
124: SHES A WOMAN Not much to unpack, Paul is good in this though
123: MICHELLE Everyone loves Michelle. It’s a dainty song that isn’t that great, but good, it’s just so quaint
122:THE WORD The n word. No love of course. Maximum corniness but still a treat to hear, Lennon sings it believably
121: WHAT GOES ON How eloquent, idfk
120: BAD BOY Now junior, behave yourself! I just needed to hear Lennon say that and I was hooked. Weird to release a cover as a single but I won’t complain
119 : FIXING A HOLE Fun psychedelia, bring the family
118: MATCHBOX Just a song on the struggles of life, Beatles style
117: ONE AFTER 909 Chaotic song that gets the blood flowing. Also regrettably relatable
116: GETTING BETTER The charm is in the McCartney Lennon dynamic. Paul says it’s getting better everyday. John says it can’t get much worse. Doesn’t that sum up those two quiet well. Just so vibrant. This era had so much colour.
115: FOR YOU BLUE Solid song, ain’t bad at all
114: ACT NATURALLY I like this song a lot. Ringo fits well for it, it’s playful, just so pleasing
113: I DONT WANT TO SPOIL THE PARTY Another underrated song from Beatles for sale.
112: BABY ITS YOU This is fun
111: MONEY (THATS WHAT I WANT) Good cover, maybe not as good as the original but you can just feel the mayhem going on through the speakers
110: YOU WONT SEE ME Mmhm, mmhm, yup, that’s some nice music
109: YOU LIKE ME TOO MUCH A playful, goofy ass song that has some great lines and a pretty fine beat
108: YOUR MOTHER SHOULD KNOW Heartwarming, just, heartwarming
107: YOU CANT DO THAT Not perfect but undeniably based
106: NOT A SECOND TIME A great story mixed with some simply beautiful descriptions making up a song that hits different form other songs of the similar nature
105: SLOW DOWN It’s the bluddy beetles mate, whatja expect
104: YOU’RE GOING TO LOOSE THAT GIRL The character in this story is such a dick but I just can’t help vibing with him. He’s such a cnt that he says he gonna steal the guys girl right to the guys face. That’s hilarious and I really like it
103: GOOD MORNING GOOD MORNING Gets too much hate for what it is
102: RAIN I don’t know what it is about rain that grabs me but every time I listen I just get drawn in, it’s very clean
101: MAGICAL MYSTERY TOUR ROLLUP ROLLUP. God I think this is so vibrant, so colourful, just really cool, great harmony, overshadowed by the rest of the album
100: MISERY Misery stuck with me, unexpectedly based for a first album
99: YES IT IS Yeah yeah yeah this one’s pretty good yeah
98: CARRY THAT WEIGHT I just sing this all the time randomly. It’s to the point, honest, fun. I don’t know what accents they’re singing in this time but it’s great. Not much of a lullaby though.
97: WHY DONT WE DO IT IN THE ROAD This one just makes me happy. I know it’s kind of filler but the way Paul increasingly hypes things up in his vocals make me smile. Big fan of this, thing
96:HONEY DONT I liked this a lot the first time I heard it and frankly I still do
95: IN MY LIFE When rubber soul gets it right it can end up like this song. And that’s a good thing
94: NOWHERE MAN Lyrically enchanting, some hot instrumentation. Production ok and a more memorable song from rubber soul
93: I FEEL FINE Yup this is fine
92: YESTERDAY A song you think is overplayed until you listen and it’s just so good. A real highlight from the early years, my favourite from help, a somber melody that is sang flawlessly by Paul
91: LOVELY RITA A song of a somewhat unlikely love that is different enough from the Beatles other love songs to stand out
90: WHILE MY GUITAR GENTLY WEEPS Why is it so low I hear you scream. Well to be honest FOR ME the verses while lyrically interesting don’t stand out in my mind. Obviously the chorus is incredible but it’s just as the rest of the verses which mind you are still good that bring it down for me. A song not really my thing till the chorus hits but still the fact that it’s there makes it worth the listen
89: HER MAJESTY Yes, I prefer this over while my guitar gently weeps. Moving on, I think this is a fun, tongue in cheek song that I always thought implied he was talking about money. Think about it, her majesty is on all the bank notes, she certainly doesn’t have a lot to say in that case, price changes from day to day. Paul loves it but to get it he has to get a belly full of wine to make it… think about it.
88: SHE CAME IN THROUGH THE BATHROOM WINDOW Ah, this one. The intrigue of the contrast of the chorus and the verses. One of my favourite from the medley
87: YOU REALLY GOT A HOLD ON ME With the Beatles being underrated again
86: TOMORROW NEVER KNOWS Look, I don’t dislike this song, it’s just a bit messy for me. There’s a lot going on and I like that but ultimately the trippy style is done better in other songs like day in the life. But I do like that George Martin on the piano isn’t half bad, he’s one of twelve fifth Beatles I hear
85: HERE COMES THE SUN I like George I swear. This song is really good and I like it but I just wouldn’t listen to it as much as some higher ones below. The changing of the seasons to describe a relationship isn’t new but it fit’s really well here I think.
84: IM SO TIRED Would be higher if it were longer, good, very good, too short
83: POLYTHENE PAM The fucking accents. Love the weird ass story of the gender ambiguous Pam and her drag persona as in a polythene bag. Just a fun character song
82: DOCTOR ROBERT My least favourite from revolver but still charming enough
81: WHAT YOUR DOING Just good
80: BLACKBIRD I really like this. I want to love it, but it’s so goddamn short man. Oh well what we got is still great
79: DONT PASS ME BY Weird, goofy, sung by ringo. A real gem of a song off the white album.
78: ROCK AND ROLL MUSIC A cover almost better than the original berry’s. Almost is still a hard feet to reach.
77: IM LOOKING THROUGH YOU The loss of a love has been done many times by these guys but this is one of there best
76: WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIENDS The lyrics are kinda mid in my opinion but hearing ringo sing always has its perks
75: IVE GOT A FEELING Very good song, production a little iffy but not horrible, I think let it be is given too much shit for that
74: GOOD NIGHT They subverted my expectations with this one. What a way to end such a large album, I think this one is cute and light and just very sweet. Whispering is somewhat creepy though.
73: WITHIN YOU WITHOUT YOU We all know they were on a lot of serious shit during this era but goddamn the lsd vibes mixed with the Indian sitar sound is really fucking unique. And I like it, don’t love it but still
72: IM DOWN V good
71: THE INNER LIGHT V nice
70: BABYS IN BLACK This one strikes a nerve with me, a hood premise, John sings it well. A treat
69: ILL FOLLOW THE SUN Never got why people disliked this one. I had a theory that the guy in it is dead and he’s going away from his girl, you know, towards the Sun
68: RUN FOR YOUR LIFE More than inspired by Elvis but I can’t complain its a banger
67: PLEASE MR POSTMAN This is well suited for John to sing. I prefer this over the original maybe that’s controversial to say I don’t know. It’s great
66 : GLASS ONION The rocking beat is what hooks me at this one to be honest, the references are cool but a bit pointless
65: MARTHA MY DEAR Who doesn’t love dogs, just heartwarming. Just pure joy
64: IM A LOSER God this album doesn’t get enough love
63: MR MOONLIGHT I heard people disliked this one but John is really suited for this one. I do indeed prefer it to its counterpart
62: LOVE YOU TO Weird vibes, good track
61: I WANT TO HOLD YOUR HAND Just gets you grooving. Love it
60: DIG A PONY Nonsense song that sounds good in your ears, typical Lennon
59: DRIVE MY CAR Maybe overrated but still slaps
58: GIRL Love girl
57: SHE LOVES YOU Again one of those dancer songs that never fails to deliver
56: ANNA (GO TO HIM) Way better than the original, such a good cover, ah, bliss
55: NOW AND THEN You see is this the recency bias. I don’t think so I hope not but it feels like it is. Man I don’t know it just sounds like Lennon was going for something different and I get it. There was so much work that went into this I just don’t know. I do really like it.
54: I WANT TO TELL YOU Somewhat forgettable but when I hear it it comes rushing back to me.
53: GOOD DAY SUNSHINE Good vibes, peace and love you know
52: HERE THERE AND EVERYWHERE Somewhat cliché but idk I like it
51: TWO OF US I just love this. I don’t think it’s as badly produced as some claim (the long and winding road is evidently over produced but it still goes absolutely hard)
50: TAXMAN We can all relate to this. More relevant than ever, and will continue to be in the future I’m sure
49: WHEN IM SIXTY FOUR It’s so jaunty that I feel like it would belong in a cartoon but that just makes it better for me. I love whimsy
48: IM ONLY SLEEPING This is great
47: PAPERBACK WRITER Be longer please
46: WE CAN WORK IT OUT Longer be please
45: HEY BULLDOG Kickass bass playing by Paul. Lyrics that were just fucked together by John are somehow incredible. Ringos drumming on this one is really good too. Wow, for a throwaway song it works really well
44: NORWEGIAN WOOD (THIS BIRD HAS FLOWN) You can almost smell the pot off this one. Love Norwegian wood rubber soul at its best.
43: AND YOUR BIRD CAN SING Not much to say great song
42: GOT TO GET YOH INTO MY LIFE Iconic, great again
41: ELANOR RIGBY Maybe you’ll say I put this too low but I still like it to a great extent
40: LADY MADONNA One of their best character songs
39: THE LONG AND WINDING ROAD Epic song, great lyrics, sang fantastically, so good
38: SHE SAID SHE SAID Tripping balls but goddamn amazing
37: LUCY IN THE SKY WITH DIAMONDS Psychedelia on full force with this one. Some of the best imagery from any song. It’s charming and fun and at times mystical but overall Johns way with words really come to the top of the log pill with this track
36: I ME MINE In hindsight a song that highlights the way George felt the world around him was and he was probably right. I like the metaphor and the waltz aspect works more than any other of the Beatles attempts at the style, it’s a fantastic piece
35: THE FOOL ON THE HILL Oh I love this song so very much. The song has the fool as some sort of wise figure many (myself included) take to be god. And I like to think if there is a god he’s like this. Watching over giving the world his wisdom but we’re just to ignorant to hear it. Also the medieval sound is one of my favourite styles (love sunforest if you’ve ever listened to any of their songs) so the flute works just so well for me especially when it mixes with the piano. Oh I just love this song to bits it’s great
34: ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE The cheesiness is undeniable, the magic is unbeatable. This song is just such a good album ender. The chaos and randomness near the climax is such an incarnation of the love message and how it works as an organised mayhem. The anthem of love and joy and passion is overflowing and I really like this song, if you can’t tell
33: NO REPLY Oh the way people overlook this song is not right. Its well written, it’s well sang, everyone’s playing well, it’s delightful
32: HONEY PIE I know people hate this song however for me it brings me back into the 20s. It is a sweet ditty that works really well for me and I love this one
31: FOR NO ONE God I love this. It feels so personal and is reflective, as unbiased as it can be and just beautifully sang with no grit. It’s honest. Paul’s on piano here witch is always great. Ringos drums work well to I think. This one’s just brilliant
30: SARGENT PEPPERS LONELY HEARTS CLUB BAND REPRISE I love this, the best feels like fucking hip hop, it’s a nice way to lead into day in the life it’s just good no real flaws
29: SARGENT PEPPERS LONELY HEARTS CLUB BAND Well this is just a perfect way to start an album. Set up the setting, it explains why the music in this one’s a little different as it’s not the Beatles it’s Sargent peppers and that’s a good concept from the start. You get a real idea if what the world the album takes place in is like and you get a feel for the members of the band itself. Just a class act
28: SAVOY TRUFFLE Controversial one perhaps. I just like the song. The mixing is interesting, the lyrics are fun, I think George outdid himself with it, all just to mock Eric Clapton, hilarious
27: ROCKY RACCOON I know this one’s gonna be a war. Rocky raccoon is so listenable, and fun and encapsulating. Ringo is singing it in a great way. I just like it, ok, just my taste. If you hate this song and believe it should be burned than that is perfectly fine, but don’t undermine someone else’s opinion
26 : DONT LET ME DOWN Oh this one’s so powerful, grand, fitting really.
25: YELLOW SUBMARINE I have a fee that I’m not going to survive this list. Can I not like fun, that’s what this is, pure unfiltered fun. This song makes me very happy ok. Ringo singing it just gives it that relaxing feel. Yellow submarine is that kind of happy go lucky song I love
24: REVOLUTION After hearing its bastardisation this is just so refreshing. It’s about a peaceful revolution. It sure as hell doesn’t sound peaceful what with the two electric guitars blowing my speakers out. This one just sounds like a revolution should in a song, and it’s really very good because of it.
23: GET BACK Shit, shit back, shit 1. No I love this. This is such a vibe man it strikes a nerve, it sounds incredible (considering it was recorded outside) and it helps that everyone is clearly giving it there absolute all. Love get back.
22: OB-LA-DI OB-LA-DA I don’t know if this one is as controversial as it used to be but I know there are still some who fucking loath this song. I saw an article where it put this song as the worst the Beatles ever done saying that it was genuinely a horrible experience to listen to. I don’t know this song is just a tonic for a bad day, I will always feel a little bit better after listening to it and that really pulls it up the list. Don’t get the hate
21: A DAY IN THE LIFE Oh boy. This is so good damn it. The Lennon McCartney dynamic is the best it ever will be. Lennon reads the news of suicide and sees a war film while Paul dashes about in his chipper day. The rising orchestra is incredible, Ringos drumming is so different to other approaches in the genre. I can’t tell the scales of the strangeness and the depression aspect mixed with the weird ass ending it’s just an experience instead of a song.
20: OH! DARLING You can’t deny the power in this song, Paul gives it his absolute soul and it works for me, this rejection song is more of an explosion of emotions that gets you invested. Idk I like it
19: REVOLUTION 9 Well I’m dead, there’s no redeeming myself now oh well, however if you would at least hear me out on why I put number nine here then I will do my best. I love things that are different, things that go against the norm and defy expectations. And if we can all agree that revolution 9 is not what you expect when you think Beatles then we have agreed on something. This song (if you can call it a song) is doing for me something interesting. Celebrating the avant-garde while also making fun of it. It sounds impeccable. The mixing is superb, it makes full use of the stereo format. It makes me feel things, picture things, it’s a very interpretive sound that mixes together different instruments and words and phrases forwards and backwards to make something of a trip. This sounds like what a revolution sounds like, points getting muffled over time, being big and grand before shrinking into disarray. You can take what you want from the meaning but when I listen I get completely overwhelmed with feelings. It’s a collage of expression that is most certainly not for everybody but I think is a full on revolution in my head. That’s just how I feel
18: EVERYBODY’S GOT SOMETHING TO HIDE EXCEPT FOR ME AND MY MONKEY There’s some dislike for this one too but I think it’s just a complete rocker, the lyrics also make me chuckle a fair bit
17: THE BALLED OF JOHN AND YOKO I don’t think this one is that hated. I love it. It’s genuinely very funny some highlights being the what you doing in bed interaction and the two gurus in drag. John was highlighting his problems with the media in a way that doesn’t sound bitchy or like he’s talking down to the listeners. Very good song
16: ACROSS THE UNIVERSE God the imagery, similes and lyricism is so beautiful. This is a beautiful song. So elegant
15: SHES LEAVING HOME I was somewhat shocked to find this in some worst of the Beatles lists. The people writing it seeming to miss the point that it isn’t that biased. Sure it shows the hardships of the parents, how broken they are but it realises that fun can simply not manifest in some places and has to be sought out. It’s a real understandable song that is softly sung by Paul in a mystifying way.
14: I WANT YOU (SHES SO HEAVY) Fucking insane song, it’s like a ride at an amusement park it ramps up over time and brings you right to the heights that you wonder how it’s going to end. This song subverts that by giving it no ending, it just gets cut off, which is brilliant. It’s like a ride through hell. A decent into madness of desire in a way making it shockingly relevant.
13: OCTOPUSES GARDEN Kudos to ringo bro just wants to be under the ocean. Calm as fuck. Beautiful expression of the desire to get away from the hassles of life and responsibilities which I’m sure we all relate to. Also bubbles, what’s not to love.
12: HAPPINESS IS A WARM GUN It’s almost perfect, but goddamn it it’s too short. I love this thing but I feel it cuts off before it’s time is up you know
11: THE CONTINUING STORY OF BUNGALOW BILL I don’t get the hate for this one (well maybe I do but still) you got a fire ass spanish guitar. A balled of verses, a sing song chorus that feels like it’s taking the piss in a good way. Even an underlying message of hypocrisy and ignorance. Now I know that yoko is very loud on the song but honestly it just ads to the bizarre feeling that the whole song gives off, I love this.
10: YER BLUES One of the most explosive blues songs I’ve ever heard, incredible
9: STRAWBERRY FEILDS FOREVER You already know it’s fantastic, but that still shouldn’t take away how fantastic it is
8: MAXWELLS SILVER HAMMER … yeah, no joke. Listen it was on of the first Beatles songs I ever heard, if not the first. It has that jaunty Paul feel but then it hits you that it’s about a murderer and it just makes me take a step back and go damn, the Beatles could make anything whimsical. It’s so sing song while being so dark. Yea it is fruity but man I don’t know. The synthesiser near the end is also just really fun to me. It’s fun it’s nostalgic and I will always love it. Sorry not sorry.
7: HELTER SKELTER I applaud you Paul McCartney, you put everything you had into this one and it paid off
6: BABY YOUR A RICH MAN I don’t know what it is about this one I love so much, I’m not a huge fan of sitar but it works here. I like the lyrics. There’s a lot of interpretation around them but I always took it as a similar vane of the balled of John and Yoko where it is like a dickhead reporter asking John the questions we here Paul sing in a sense of leading him on and that they’re responding in the sense that these people nagging them about having money when most who were had money themselves. Just a thought.
5: COME TOGETHER Classic, genius rhyming scheme brilliant
4: HEY JUDE 2nd Best uplifting song I’ve ever heard
3: LET IT BE Best uplifting song I’ve ever heard
2: PENNY LANE A fantastic song highlighting the serenity in modern life that often goes unrecognised. It’s penny lane, what’s not to love
1: I AM THE WALRUS It’s I am the walrus. Lyrics are dazzling. The whole mixture of instruments and sounds the distortion making it sound like a dream at points. The way it uses the stereo medium is genius. The Beatles were geniuses. One of the best things ever written.

Hello Everyone!
My name is Vinícius, I'm from Brazil and I have some history here in "Gift of Games", as I have requested "Diablo 4" 22 times, "Helldivers 2" 8 times and more haha!
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What is Shin Megami Tensei V: Vengeance
SMT V: Vengeance is a very hard, strange and interesting JRPG, it has some dark themes that make it stand out from the majority of games on this genre.
The game features a monster catching system(more like demon catching in this case) that enables you to recruit, improve and fuse demons that you find everywhere. It is very unique because for you to recruit them you have to chat with them, and sometimes it doesn't work like you expected, the demons may not want to join you or maybe they even want to trick you into giving them something and just vanishing after, the outcomes are very funny sometimes.
This is the first SMT game to feature an exploration system WITHOUT random encounters, and this is one of the best advantages of this game over the others, cause everybody knows how bad random encounters can be in some situations right?
Talking about exploration, this is a very fun aspect of SMT V for me, I really love that they made this a very important part of the game, you have many items, enemies and secrets to find on every part of the map, and it makes for some very good change of pace from the battles.
The newer version improves the game in many ways, it has a lot of QOL features, 60 fps, better textures, but the biggest difference is a totally new campaign, since most fans thought it was the weakest point of the original version.
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Why Shin Megami Tensei V: Vengeance?
I'm a very big JRPG fan and have been for many years, I like many of the old ones and also newer ones, but I'm specificaly found of the ATLUS games like the SMT and Persona series. They have such a personality that you can always be sure that they are made by ATLUS the moment you see a frame of it. This is also a very big game, so I will certainly get many hours of fun out of it as I plan to do a 100% completion! 😎
I have been waiting to play this game since 2021 when it released, since I don't have a Nintendo Switch, but it feels like even more time and I'm sure it will be worth it to now play it at 60fps and with much better graphics.
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Why can't I buy it?
All games are very expensive here, I live in a small town in Brazil, a country in which the AAA games cost R$ 300(our currency is called Real) or even more(SMT V is R$319), and the minimum wage is R$ 1.412, so it costs a big % of the minimum wage, it's absurd. I am a photographer who is still trying to make a living of it, I had many jobs before but some fired me and some I just could not keep up because they had a huge tow on my mental state. From my experience the only job that could maintain me without destroying my mental is photography, I just love it, and I took too long to realise that I could do something important with it. But the point is that not only AAA games, but all game prices here went up really fast on the last few years, and it's impossible to keep up with it. I am struggling at the moment to acomplish my objectives professionaly, and I believe that this game may make my days a little easier.
But the most important reason why I can't buy it is that my city right now is going through the biggest natural catastrophe the country has ever seen. I live in Pelotas, in the state of Rio Grande do Sul, and we have many cities very close that were completely vanished because of a flood, and I mean that literally, some cities will now cease to exist because everything was consumed by water. The situation here is sad, we have never seen something of that magnitude in our lives, if you want to have an idea just search about it and watch some videos, it's devastating...
Now my city is also starting to suffer because of the flood, I think my house is probably safe for now, but now I can't even work, nobody can do anything until this passes, and even after that, we will have to deal with the problems that will appear. Some people lost everything they had, some people lost their family, their pets, the whole country is trying to help but there is no way to really stop it now.
So I basically just want this game to keep me sane during these dark times that we are living here, I know it will not make life easier, but it might bring me a little more joy so I can face the problems in a better shape than I am right now.
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I think I don't have anymore to say, so I just hope someone reads this poorly written but full of sincerity text. 😁 Thank you SO much for giving me the opportunity to ask for something like this, you have no idea how much this means to me and how surprised I am that we have some people here with that kind of generosity!
Shin Megami Tensei V: Vengeance
Steam Profile

All things come to an end. But some only lie still, forgotten
This book is fantastic. I've been wanting to say that since I finished it a few days ago. There are books that you see mentioned all the time and to some extent you think "i'm sure its good, but there's probably some exaggeration in there as well". You expect to be let down and try not to get your hopes up too high. Because there's nothing worse than having high expectations and being let down. Well, The Blade Itself is a case where high expectations are well earned. The start was a bit slow for me. Random guy gets attacked in the woods by some monsters, then falls off a cliff. I was wondering "Ok. Where are we going with this? Is he the protagonist or just a walking dead guy meant to show the tone of the story?" But from that introduction this grows into a truly epic tale set in kind of a harsh world in which you'll see a growing war, magical powers returning, and different political players seeking to take advantage wherever they can. If I had to throw three important words out to describe this book it would be Action, Characters, Intrigue.
This isn't some power fantasy where the protagonist is getting into fights every chapter and steamrolling all of his opponents. But when he, or anyone else, gets into a fight it's a real, no holds barred, tip of the nose, bloody fight. Political/social intrigue is just as important, if not more so, because this is a case where the plot focuses heavily on the actual politics involved in running different organizations and gradually building toward, what seems like it'll be, a new world war. And at the heart of everything it's the point of view characters that bring it all together and make you want to keep reading. Kudos to the author for actually making them all distinct. There are a few similarities between some of them, but this isn't a story in which you'll be confused when switching from one to the other.

Thoughts

It's a sorry fact that the man who strikes first usually strikes last
In my opinion, this story is kind of a giant subversion on classic fantasy tropes. I'd say the "main" protagonist is Logen Ninefingers, a viscious northman with a bloody past who seems to be trying to change for the better. But that past keeps coming back to bite him as he associates with old enemies and, more importantly, comes into contact with the mage Bayaz who wants to use Logen for unknown reasons. And that's one major subversion right there. Bayaz and Logen come into contact because Bayaz sent his apprentice to find Logen. Bayaz didn't do it himself. Bayaz and Logen aren't old friends. Bayaz didn't know Logen's father (Or if he did it isn't mentioned here). Bayaz knows of Logen, needs him for something, and sends someone to fetch him. He does the same with another protagonist from a different region of the world named Ferro Maljinn. In fact, the group of companions that has formed by the story's end were all gathered by Bayaz, mostly through him sending his proxies to find them. And he clearly has some mystical quest planned for them all, but this isn't a story about destiny or fate leading a group together. It's not about friends reuniting or one man gradually gathering a group of trusted friends who he saves on his way. It's all the manipulations of Bayaz setting these characters up to follow him, as if he's moving chess pieces on a board. And its brilliant.
Bayaz himself is not the stereotypical wise wizard. Instead you have this solidly built, bald, arrogant man who will set a group of men on fire, be physically taxed by it, and keep going on his merry way. He's not providing words of wisdom, he's speaking in riddles and keeping his cards close to the chest. He looks down his nose at his apprentice constantly and clearly believes he knows what's best for everyone. In turn you have Logen who is trying to be better, but constantly struggling to do so and by the story's end he completely loses it to what could be called a more bloodthirsty alter ego (The Bloody Nine) who proceeds to kill the enemies before him like a maniac. Ferro, who in another story might be a noble freedom fighter after having escaped slavery, is in some ways just as harsh as Logen, seeking to cause as much harm as possible to the people she despises (And notably being pretty damn racist as well lol). None of these characters, and there are more I haven't mentioned, are who you'd expect them to be in a classical fantasy novel, but it's handled so damn well and I love it.

Points of View

Why do I do this? Why?
Apart from Logen and Ferro there are 4 other point of view characters.
Collem West, an aging soldier from a poor background
Dogman, a northman who was in a group with Logen right as things went to shit at the story's start
Sand dan Glokta, former soldier, current cripple and member of the King's Inquisition
Jezal dan Luthar, nobleman and aspiring swordsman who is too lazy for his own good
I'll say that Ferro absolutely gets the least amount of focus, probably followed by the Dogman right after. Collem and Jezal are actual friends at the story's start, so even when you're following one of them the other will often appear as well. Glokta will pop up in their segments too, and vice versa, since all 3 of them are located in the same city. Overall, i'd say this is an excellent example of handling different points of view properly. It isn't just because the characters have major differences between them, it's about how the writing divides page time between all of them. Furthermore, there's an overarching story that all of their narratives play into even though individually they aren't aware of this. It's fun to see something like Jezal reacting to Bayaz, wondering why the Mage seems so interested in him, and right afterward you have Glokta looking into Bayaz to see if he is who he says he is. Things like that not only kept me interested, it built my interest in the story as it went on because I wanted to see which characters would end up interacting by the story's end.

Logen

Mercy, the man was like a child. A six and a half food child with a face like a butchers block
All of the characters are great and could have carried a story on their own, but i'd like to take a moment and say Logen was my favorite. There's something so tragic about this guy who has clearly lived a bloody life, references it often in almost everything he says or does, who does seem like he wants to change, but clearly can't change. A really interesting segment was when he first arrived in Adua, the nation's capitol. Having always lived in a completely different land that has a suitably different climate and landscape he reacts as you'd expect him to. He panics. He is lost in a crowd, finds it to be stifling hot, doesn't understand the way people react to him or how they treat one another. I'd say he was on the verge of passing out from a panic attack to be honest. He is a foreigner in a strange land and he reacts as such. It's a generally small moment in the entire book, but it's one of my favorites because it shows a level of thought that you don't see from every author. That's how a character like Logen should be reacting, but more often than not things like this aren't even touched upon. And when he's trapped by enemies at the end with no hope of escape, wounded and covered in blood, he finally loses it. The beast inside himself that he hid away the entire time finally comes out and you can see why his enemies who know him tried to get rid of him. You can see why he does want to move beyond that and why he is adamant that the world probably would have been better off without him. I'm repeating myself, but it's all done so well and I love it.

Conclusion

The blade itself incites to deeds of violence
I'm willing to say that if the next 2 books in this trilogy are written as well as this one i'd place the series on my list of favorites. There's so much i'm not mentioned, but I was very impressed and it was a pleasure to read. Sometimes when reading a book can feel like a chore, because you're not really enjoying it but you want to finish it. This is a case where I became a kid again, staying up later and later to read one more chapter, my mind constantly turning over the events of the book to wonder what would happen next. I was lost in this story and it was actually fun to read. Very violent, bloody, and sure to have a bittersweet ending when all is said and done (I have the feeling that both Logen and Collem will probably die), but absolutely fun. I suggest it to anyone who enjoys stories like Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire or books with multiple POV characters for you to follow.

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With the use of ancient and forbidden magic, a handful of Mages erased the collective memory of the world, turning many innocent practitioners into mere Sleepers. Only a few trusted folk were left with access to the Runes, and the vast majority of those left with power united to form two sister organizations: The Exodus Corps and the Genesis Corps. One to oversee mages, and one to look after Sleepers.

“Okay, two things.” Tav interrupted once again. “First, I have never heard of any of those, so I assume they either died off or are a secret.”

“Correct on both accounts.” Mustafá nodded.

“I guess Genesis is no more then.” The youth blinked. “Anyways… So we are dealing with Exodus now, which has the power to erase and rewrite memories!? What hope do we have against power like that!?”

The alchemist closed her eyes. She agreed, full heartedly, that such tremendous power shouldn’t be in the hands of anyone.

“I am unsure if such magic is possible anymore, with the changes in how information works and flows in our world.” Mustafá shrugged softly. “But it is not worth it to worry about that, at least not for now. May I continue?”

With Tav’s nod, the old mage continued her story.

The arrival of the Age of Silence did not stop the efforts of humanity for complete control of Jericho. More and more magical beings were erased or enslaved, for people considered them an abomination against their new understanding of the world.

Until everything reached a breaking point.

Mustafá glared for a moment, falling silent and taking a sip of her tea before resuming.

One day, all of a sudden, all magical creatures disappeared from the face of Jericho, apparently at the same time. And soon after that… a mist began spreading through the entire world. A thick, malicious fog carrying horrors of flesh and bone to Jericho, turning animals and humans alike into abominations which had been hidden in the imagination of men for the longest time.

The survivors came to call this cataclysmic event ‘The First Sacrifice’, and it is thought to be the revenge of the forsaken Presences of Jericho, and the many displaced magical creatures.

“It took centuries to rebuild the world after that.” Mustafá said, looking into her cup of tea. “It was terrible for everyone involved… and now, a little beyond six hundred years later, we are facing the start of a Second Sacrifice, a return of the same mist that once covered the world, and the horrors that come with it.”

Storytime was over. Tav’s eyes stared into the middle distance as she tried to imagine it, a fog so thick that could cover the Sun in its entirety. Nightmarish beings roaming the land, death for everyone. She shivered, closing her eyes and trembling for a moment before looking at her teacher once again.

“Wait. How do you even know it is coming? How can you be so sure?” The youth questioned.

“I learned to see the signs, the shifts in the mana of the world, the changes in the Third Layer, the apparent reduction in the amount of unexplainable events.” The alchemist sighed, before forcing herself to admit. “I am not the only one who has been fearing this, nor the only one who has confirmed its coming.”

“H-How long do we have?” The apprentice was starting to feel the pressure. “Is there something we can do!?”

“I don’t have a specific date, but I know that it must happen this year.” Mustafá shook her head, setting her empty cup on the table. “As per what we can do… the book must be the answer. It was written by one of the greatest minds from the First Sacrifice.”

“Humiko did look like the sort of person who knew things…” Tav mumbled mostly to herself. “... Where will it all start?”

“The North Pole.” The teacher nodded softly.

“That’s where we have to go as soon as this book is translated, then. That’s what her introduction said…” The young one finished her cup of tea in one gulp, setting it down as well. “Let’s get to it.”

If Mustafá had the power of smiling right there, she would. Her lips curled up, ever so slightly, as she nodded and cracked her knuckles, walking over to the pile of dried clothes and pulling her turban out. She couldn’t teach without it, at least she felt that way.

“Where’s the iron? I wish to iron my clothes.” The alchemist stretched lazily. “Once that’s done, we are leaving again. We will practice in your assigned Elysium.”

“Isn’t that a bit dangerous? Anyone could see us.” Tav asked to divert from the fact that she didn’t exactly remember where her iron was.

“That’s the point. You need to be seen, at least a little bit, before people stop suspecting you of being evil, or worse, a leech on society.” Mustafá, catching the nervous glances of her apprentice, just sighs and conjures both an iron and an ironing board with a flick of her wrist.

The younger one sighs in relief, before she suddenly realizes something.

“Wait, if you can just conjure stuff like that, why did we have to go to Obuda for bread!? Couldn’t you just summon or create the bread instead of paying for it!?”

“I am not good at making bread.” The alchemist answered, setting her clothes on the board and plugging in the iron.

“Oh but you’re good at making electrical appliances?” The apprentice grew rowdy.

“One.” Mustafá began counting with her fingers. “I am not creating these, I am technically summoning them from my apartment. Two, I am very good at making electrical appliances, thank you. Three, you can only create the objects that you actually understand, so even if I know how bread is made, my lack of talent for baking means my produce will always be inferior to an actual baker.”

“Oh…” Tav frowned. “I guess that makes sense…”

“Four. Just for that, you’re ironing my clothes.” The teacher walked back to her seat.

“Argh, you bitch…”

Knowing that arguing with this woman was useless, the apprentice sighed and got to work immediately, politely leaving the underwear on the side to work with the rest of the clothes. She had her limits.


Honestly, when I started thinking and hearing about Elysiums as magical places, I was expecting something far more mystical or something. Not that there’s anything wrong with a mysterious building in the middle of the city, no; I guess these hideouts need to keep appearances up so people don’t come around making the wrong questions, but… a Cat Café? Really? I didn’t even know we had one in Saüle!

Entering wasn’t a problem, for the place opened quite early in the morning. Soon enough, Mustafá and I are sitting on a puffy couch, in the middle of a warm and comfortable living room decorated with pastel colours and many figurines of cats… not to mention the REAL cats, gathering around Mustafá like bees to honey while completely ignoring me.

She doesn’t look really happy about it.

“The more magical potential you develop, the more you start attracting cats. Or repelling them. It’s a coin toss, depends on the cat really.” She explains with a sigh. “That’s why cats make good familiars.”

“So familiars are a thing, huh?” I tilt my head.

“Of course they are a thing. Did you really think no one would try magic with animal companions? They are dumb as bricks, but useful if you are into that.” Mustafá clearly wasn’t into that, gently pushing the cats away from her as they purred and seeked her attention. “Shoo.”

To keep appearances, and to enjoy the delicious hot cocoa they serve here, we decide to stay a bit in the actual café… but soon enough, Mustafá grows restless and annoyed with all the attention and demands we go into the Elysium proper. Right when I am finally managing to bond with a silly but loving orange cat! I don’t even manage to make the silly lasagna cat joke when she pulls me by the arm and takes me over to the kind lady tending to the café.

I don’t even get the chance to speak when suddenly my teacher pulls out both of our credentials. For a moment I think her mad… but then, I try to put those feelings down and trust her. She is my teacher now, after all! She’s supposed to know what she’s doing.

“Ah…” The lady nodded, recognition in her eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were kin. Let me register your entrance.”

Mustafá probably feels my eyes on her, asking questions in silence, because she immediately says:

“Most Elysiums, except for the more public ones, have a guardian that keeps tabs on who enters and who exits them. The members of the Brotherhood are fascists.”

I immediately tell her to hush up, checking to see if the café lady heard her. Luckily, she seems busy looking for her note book. With a sigh, I turn to Mustafá and shake my finger.

“Don’t. Say those things. We all think them, we all know they are true, but we don’t just call a pig a pig to its face!!” I can feel the strength leaving my body as I tell this to her. Her lack of common sense is killing me.

“You’re way too soft.” She simply says, shrugging as the tending lady returns with an open book. “Put your thumb on the page and sign your name.”
I do as she says, even though there’s no ink to dunk my finger in or anything. The paper itself takes the print from my thumb and I feel a little burning sensation on my skin for a few seconds. With a wince I pull my hand off, shaking it for a moment and then taking the pencil to sign my name besides the black print.

Mustafá does the same soon enough, without even caring about the burn, and then we are both directed to a door ‘in the end of the hallway, to your left’. She just lets us leave, just like that! Not even doubting our intentions or anything. Again, I turn to my teacher as we walk through the hall.

“What was that all about?”

“To avoid people using glamour, which is a thing by the way, to sneak in with other identities, they use special paper to reveal your real identity using your fingerprints.” She shrugs.

“What, can’t you change your fingerprints with magic?” I grin, feeling smart and subversive.

“No.” She answers calmly, turning to the left and facing a wall in the hallway. “One of the aspects in which Sleeper Technology has surpassed us is the ability to modify and take care of the body.”

Now that takes me by surprise.

“So there’s no magical medicine?!” I say, louder than I intended.

“You can make magical remedies and enhancements, but magic can’t directly warp the body in any shape or form.” She explained, looking for the Phi symbol carved in the wall. “We are too dense, too attached to our body… It’s also forbidden to even try. We don’t want to end up with another ‘Flesh Sculptor’ situation.”

“A what situation?” Now that has to be made up, I demand for it to be made up.

“Ah, here it is.” Mustafá ignores me once more, pushing a finger against the symbol on the wall and letting her magic do the rest… I watch the octarine travel through her body into the wooden wall, forming a round door leading to a set of stairs. “Come.”

“No, seriously, what was that about ‘Flesh Sculptors’!?” I follow closely to her, watching our access into the dark stairway close right behind us.

“Don’t worry about it. They used to be a great number of them among the necromancers, but lately it’s just an old wives’ tale. Something to make little kids wet their pants.” Again, the damn crone (because I am sure she’s far older than she looks) comes so close to smiling it is actually a bit unnerving.

Honestly… the more I learn of this magical world, the more scared I feel.

Sangar rose shivering in the cave. Cold sweat had pooled around his eyes. He took his fingers out of his mouth. Vomit clung to his forearm and on the ground he had been lying for longer than he'd care to know. He remembered his name. He remembered the fight in the ruins. He remembered the refugees coming to the aftermath offering aid. Offering them relief from the despair and wounds. Offering them a drink that would stop them feeling. How they gulped down the broth from their ladles. And then nothing. The cave paintings were complex patterns just like that in the Planetarium. But his eyes did not linger on the art long.
Their captors were hunched over the embers of a fire. They ate with open mouths. The rude mastication echoed in the dark, sucking and cracking bones now, their shadows ugly on the wall against the glow of dying ash.
The well worn clothes of their meal were in a uncaring pile beside them surrounded by wet butchers knives.
The sedative worked hard on him, pulling him away into a chamber far away from his battered body. He bit his cheek, tasting blood, focusing on the pain. Pain was good, pain was better than nothing.
His vision turned spotty again as he stood upright. HIs body shook against his will. His ears rung in a high pitch. Don't fall, don't fall. He couldn't see a thing now. He blinked over and over.
He saw his mother, his father above him, humming, pressing him between their chests in the dark. Were they crying too? He felt soft kisses on his newborn head. They danced slow side to side, in words that he had heard before but couldn't remember. Then the dark turned into that changing blue that comes just before the sun. This was not a hallucination, it was a memory. He came from the other place into this one cared for. He mattered to two people at sometime. He mattered a lot it would seem What did that mean. It seemed to mean everything. It was an alien thought
He gasped 'I was loved'
They were alien words said out loud.
His vision cleared. It was an alien sight.
The captors turned sharply at his words. Crimson mouths open, hands full with spilling grub, eyes shocked.
'Its the big one!'
A couple scrambled for their tools. Another hissed 'find more red holly for big one we got the dose wrong.
Sangar bounced on his calves. Memories of beauty bled into training. When you throw a punch you aim an elbows length behind a head, you go through the head.
'We dosed him with enough to comatose a horse!'
They came at him with knives, their meal splattered across the dusty floor.
'I was loved' Sangar bent to pick up a rock, near the size of his fist. He memorised the weight lobbing it from one hand to the other. Footsteps rushed to him. He locked eyes.
The cave echoed with grunts of the damned, and primordial thuds.
I was loved. He never thought he could learn so much in one day. To learn too now too that cannibals scream like cowards when thrown off a cliff. He basked in the knowledge that he was hugged as a baby. In sick meagre relief he felt good not knowing the man who had been eaten. They had left his fearful face aside from his cheeks and eyes which had been scraped out crudely and his scalp which had been peeled half way back to hang, folded unto itself. He found himself hoping suddenly that this young soul too was loved sometime in this broken place. He found his bark blade and then he went to wake the rest. The day had just begun.

Lydia awoke with Waldo screaming. Lydia quickly got up and activated the magic stones lighting the room, Lydia did not see a reason for him to be screaming and was about to wake him when he went quiet. Lydia wondered what had happened and as she watched him she became concerned he was not breathing but just as she was about to shake him away he started breathing again then he began to weep in his sleep saying “I would take it back if I could. I did not know what it meant. Please, I never meant for this.” Lydia watched over him for several minutes as he repeated this over and over. Lydia did not know why but after a while she embraced him gently.
“It is ok. We all make mistakes.” Lydia said quietly holding him. She did not entirely know why she chose to do this as she felt some concern over what he was apologizing for having done but something made her decide to stay with him. Eventually, he stopped and started sleeping peacefully. Lydia slowly fell back to sleep after he quieted and returned to a peaceful state.
Lydia awoke again with Waldo sitting dressed on the edge of the bed. “Good Morning.”
“Good Morning.” Waldo replied, turning to Lydia. “Sorry, if I woke you in the night. I do not always sleep well.”
“I can understand that. It took almost a year before I could sleep through the night.” Lydia replied.
“I brought breakfast up. Kna mentioned I screamed in the middle of the night. I rarely have a companion… So I did not know. I guess I was extra loud last night. I woke some other patrons.” Waldo said calmly. Lydia climbed out of bed and dressed herself as Waldo watched her but when she looked at him she felt he was lost in his own mind.
"Copper for your thoughts.” Lydia said as she started to lace up her dress. Waldo walked over to her and helped her.
“I thought I knew who I was…but I remembered things last night…” Waldo said hollowly. “I don’t know what I was fighting for… All that time as a soldier and now I remembered… what I learned before arriving here and it isn’t what I thought.”
“Do you want to elaborate?” Lydia asked.
“I am not sure I know how.” Waldo said and there was silence for a moment.
“Well, maybe you should stay here if you don’t know why you were fighting. At least, until you figure out what you want.” Lydia said and feeling better about what she had heard last night she kissed him gently on the cheek. “Thank you. I would stay for breakfast but I need to get to work.” Lydia said, grabbing a piece of bread with an egg off the plate.
“Have a nice day and I hope to see you later.” Waldo said, as she headed toward the door.
“Good luck today!” Lydia said, smiling and left. Waldo collected several things from his pack then stored it under the bed and took the plate of food to the common room where he ate slowly. Waldo noticed that Lydia was not in the common room as he ate breakfast. Waldo did not have to wait long after finishing his breakfast before Strisk arrived.
“Good Morning!” Strisk waved at Waldo moving across the common room.
“Greetings Strisk.” Waldo replied standing and moving to meet him.
“Are you ready to go down to the training grounds?” Strisk asked.
“Yeah, let’s head out.” Waldo said, motioning for Strisk to lead the way.
“Are you in a hurry?” Strisk asked, leading Waldo out.
“No, nothing like that just…” Waldo stopped in the door exiting the inn as he looked out into the city. Waldo had expected Protham to be small but realized it had been dark when he arrived and late that is why he had not realized how expansive it was. Waldo saw a wall sixty or seventy feet tall. Waldo stepped into the street and could see a gate two hundred or so feet down the road in one direction and in the other there was what appeared to be a small square. “How big is Protham?”
“It is just a small village, only five thousand or so. Most people are employed in fishing the lake or harvesting trees.” Strisk replied. “The gnolls recently opened a college here… Something about ley lines and increased power, but that is not my expertise.”
“I am surprised they even care about the ley line. The planet is so saturated with magic I would have thought everyone can easily use it.” Waldo responded.
“I wouldn’t know about that. Are you a mage?” Strisk asked.
“I cannot use magic… I can still feel it pooling.” Waldo said, wondering why he could feel it still since he now knew he could not use it. “It must be something to do with the leveling. I wonder if there is a construct powering the whole system.”
“You are suggesting a magic artifact causes people to level?”Strisk asked, shocked at the strangeness of the idea.
“Um… So I assume it is a mage college of some kind they opened?” Waldo asked, trying to change topics.
“Yeah. I would have suggested going and seeing the head there about your teleporting but from what I have heard they see almost no one who isn’t a student.” Strisk said, starting to walk down the street. Waldo followed, taking in the people and the streets. Waldo noticed most people were gnollish he saw drakes as well but it seemed to be ten to one.
“Lydia said you are a Drake. I have never learned to identify the scaled races apart from one another. It appears that Protham is mostly gnolls and Drakes. What makes a drake a drake and not say a lizardfolk?” Waldo asked, carefully.
“Lydia is right. I am a Drake. Lizardfolk always have tails. Drakes rarely have tails and those that do have a tail almost always have wings. That is usually the easiest way to tell us apart but it is more nuanced. A healthy Drake’s scales are vibrant, we stand out. A healthy lizardfolk has duller scales. Drakes can have horns or spikes across their head and back but never hair. Lizardfolk never have horns but can grow spikes. Usually they grow something more like a fin, which can be over their head or even down their chin to their chest. All the facial features are nuanced except the eye. Drake’s eyes face forward. Lizardfolk’s eyes face out enough to easily tell if you look at them.” Strisk explained calmly. “Kobolds are short but look like Drakes with a tail and all the other scaled races have gills.”
“Thank you. I realize that might have been rude to ask but I assume it is ruder to make a mistake.” Waldo said as they continued to make their way through the mostly empty streets.
“Most drakes consider it the pinnacle of rudeness to mistake us for the lizardfolk. Well the lizardfolk seem indifferent. I once saw a short Lizardman get mistaken for a Kobold and they laughed about it. Well a few days ago I had to break up a bar fight cause a gnoll called a drake a lizard.” Strisk said. “My people need to calm down about being mistaken for another race. Most cannot even tell the other races apart. No offense, but I assume you are a human because Lydia is one without looking at your ears, which are currently covered by your hair you could pass for an elf in my eyes and if you told me you were a dwarf I would believe it… even though, I think you are too tall to be a dwarf.” Waldo laughed at Strisk’s words.
“An elf you say?” Waldo said, smiling and moving his hair from over his ears. “I am a human. However, I can understand the confusion. Even among humans it is possible for some to mistake another human as one of our kin races.”
“Kin race?” Strisk asked.
“Yes, races that share certain broad features and where half races are possible.” Waldo said.
“Then would Drakes not be a Kin race.” Strisk asked.
“You ever seen a half human and half drake?” Waldo asked.
“Well no, but I was told it was possible.” Strisk said, wondering.
“Possible for our race's women’s bodies to respond as if they are creating a blend. However, it is largely my understanding no blend has survived birth. Maybe one is out there but largely our internal anatomy; bone structure, organ placement, organs in general, and finer points don’t blend into something that survives birth if a pregnancy occurs which to my knowledge is extremely rare and usually it is a half race not a full where that can occur according to one report I read most mothers die in labor if they carry the blend to term and the child still dies.” Waldo said calmly. Strisk stopped.
“How do you know this?” Strisk asked. Waldo thought about it for a moment. Realizing he did not know how to explain having millions of years of knowledge on hand a little surprised he had so easily recalled something from another life. As he thought about it he wondered how he could so easily access it. Then he knew. Four of his prior selves had learned to build a mind palace. When the Orc had implanted all the memories, those four had combined their knowledge and laid out everything, which made him wonder how he knew about the interbreeding of humans and drakes, which brought forth the memories of four doctors. One of which was drake. Strisk watched as Waldo stared off into the distance. Suddenly, Waldo went pale and threw up in the street. “What the hell?” Strisk said, jumping back to avoid getting splattered.
“Sorry.” Waldo said, feeling queasy. Waldo pushed the doctor’s memories away realizing he was not ready to go exploring all the memories aimlessly. Waldo pulled out his hip canteen and washed his mouth out. Spitting the water down a nearby drain “Damn. I was hoping to not have to eat until dinner. I assume the interview will have a combat skills test?” Waldo asked, looking at Strisk.
“Well yes, but what was that?” Strisk asked, feeling the response was unjustified for his question.
“Oh, right, your question. Um… I went to a memory I should have left alone. I was thinking about my time studying… when I strayed into an incident.” Waldo said, trying to explain without lying.
“An incident?” Strisk asked.
“I expect there are things you have seen as a city guard you would rather not remember.” Waldo replied, carefully.
“Oh… you mean something like that. I can understand that. Let’s continue on. Just another block or so.” Strisk said, letting Waldo follow him. Neither said anything until they got to the city's barracks. They had crossed near the center of town and were now at a lakeside gate that had a training arena with a large gatehouse next to it.
“How many positions is the guard filling?” Waldo asked as they approached the building.
“We are adding five new full time positions in hope of growth due to the mage college, three part time, and around fifty new reservists.” Strisk said and then opened the gatehouse’s front door.
“Good Morning, Strisk!” A female voice behind the counter greeted as they entered.
“Good Morning, Violet.” Strisk replied. “Is Trag in?”
“Yes, he got in a bit ago and…Who are you?” Violet asked, staring at Waldo as he entered the gatehouse.
“Waldo Winter.” Waldo said, step into the room and bowing slightly to the human girl behind the counter.
“He is with me. Violet. He arrived in town last night under strange circumstances.” Strisk said.
“Is he why you are meeting with Trag this early?” Violet asked, keeping her eyes on Waldo. “Is he a criminal?”
“Yes to the meeting with Trag and not as far as I am aware. You haven’t done anything illegal have you?” Strisk asked, grinning Waldo.
“Admittedly, I have not read your legal code, but assuming it follows traditional patterns of legal codes for structured societies. Not in this city. At least, I very much doubt I have.” Waldo said, smiling lightly at Violet.
“What are you doing here then?” Violet asked.
“Apart from identifying myself to local authorities due to the strange way I arrived. Hopefully, applying for a job.” Waldo stated. Violet frowned.
“Are you applying for citizenship in Protham or just submitting notice of intent to work in Protham?” Violet asked.
“Notice of intent to work, at this time.” Waldo replied, moving up to the desk as Strisk stepped away. Violet handed him a sheet of paper and pulled out a second enchanted page.
“Good luck finding work here. There are not many jobs outside of scribe, barworker, or general laborer for humans in Protham. The Drakes and Gnolls are larger and stronger than humans naturally and they are basically hiring enforcers right now.” Violet whispered to Waldo. “Where are you staying?”
“The Spriggan Inn.” Waldo said, looking at the form, surprised he could read it. As he started to fill out the form he remembered a passage about grown arrivals passing between world and being gifted languages of the worlds they arrived on from death. Waldo tried to remember the author's reasoning for the gift but could not. Waldo wished he had learned written gnollish languages but had only learned their spoken languages.
“How did you come to be there?” Violet said, showing surprise.
“Long story short…Some sort of teleportation accident.” Waldo answered, focused on completing the form.
“Wow… Lucky.” Violet said, thinking it strange he appeared in the only inn with a human working in it in Protham.
“Yes, but I suspect there is a good reason for that.” Waldo said, handing her the completed form.
“You how to read Grofeas gnoll?” Strisk asked, looking at Waldo holding the form out to Violet. “You said you had not heard of this country last night.” Violet took the form looking suspiciously at Waldo.
"No, I am familiar with other gnollish written languages and this is close enough to them that I guessed. Please check that and make sure my responses make sense.” Waldo said, looking at Violet. Waldo smiled at his omission. He was familiar with several gnoll written languages and had learned a few key words like bathroom, food, and price but had not even memorized their alphabet. Violet started to look over the document carefully. Waldo noticed the enchanted page on the desk had a picture of his face on it now with a list of several things about him, such as height, an approximate weight, and the like. Waldo heard a low growl with several inflections. Waldo looked at the gnoll standing by Strisk.
“Would you mind repeating that? I am not sure I quite heard what you said, because I thought you called me a fur lover.” Waldo said, looking narrowly at the gnoll. The gnoll made several more growls at Waldo. The gnoll had reddish brown fur and stood a little shorter than Strisk. Waldo thought the gnoll would probably be considered extremely handsome among gnolls. He was well groomed and clearly muscled under the fur. He even wore a steel breastplate that was polished to a shine. Waldo saw a stamp over his right peck that appeared to be a runic enchantment.
“Because I am not. I learned it at the time because my life depended on it. The gnolls I met were not as affluent as you are here and only knew one language. Their own. I had to learn it or live without speaking. Their treatment of me would have killed me if I had not learned their language. They knew next to nothing of humans and were a tribe secluded in the mountains. They meant well, but due to the harsh circumstances of the location I was slowly dying from starvation and exposure. It took four weeks to learn enough for rough communication after which I found them to be extremely friendly and curious. I spent two years with that tribe before making contact with a human settlement in the area. I managed to broker a peace there because I learned gnollish. So I continued my education and have since learned various spoken dialects.” Waldo responded to the newcomers' growls calmly.
“Why don’t you respond in gnollish?” The gnoll asked, changing languages. Waldo growled back in several inflections and moved a hand. Violet had noticed hand movements when gnolls growled and never associated it with them speaking but Waldo’s movements were so pronounced she realized it had to be part of the gnollish language. “Fair enough. I am Captain Trag. Strisk says you are a soldier.”
“Wait what did you say?” Violet asked Waldo.
“Violet. Don’t be rude.” Strisk chided, curious himself but having held himself back.
“I am sorry. I have just never seen a non-gnoll speak gnollish” Violet said, almost involuntarily. Trag slapped Strisk across the back of the head.
“Strisk, she is our scribe, do not order her around.” Trag said, smiling. Waldo got the sense that Trag did not like Strisk.
“I explained human throats are not well formed for the gnollish language, which hurts my throat the more I speak it and makes my accompanying hand movements more pronounced than is proper.” Waldo explained to Violet.
“Can you teach me?” Violet asked, seeing how beneficial it would be to know gnollish in her job.
“We can talk after the interview.” Waldo said, smiling at Violet.
“Right, sorry. Thank you.” Violet replied looking over at Trag apologetically.
“Excuse me for interrupting your conversation Violet. I will make sure to send Waldo back once we are done.” Trag said, smiling at Violet then turning to Waldo. “What level of soldier are you? Or is it some other fighting class?”
“I don’t have any levels in fighting classes.” Waldo replied.
“And you want to be a city guard?” Trag said looking angrily at Strisk who looked at Waldo surprised.
“Wait, are you a medic of somekind?” Strisk asked, remembering the other night.
“No, just give me a chance. We should go to the training ground if combat assessment is to be a large part of this process.” Waldo stated, a little surprised they had started asking questions in the entrance.
“It is. We can train you in Protham legal code, but we rarely do combat training for our guards; most people come to us with twenty or more levels in a combat class, when they are applying to be a guard.” Trag stated, as Waldo opened the door.
“Where I come from people do not rely on the leveling systems for combat training.” Waldo started walking to the training grounds as Trag and Strisk followed.
“Where are you from?” Trag asked.
“Halcyon. Heard of it?” Waldo asked, knowing the reply.
“Nope.” Trag replied, thinking this human could never keep up with a gnoll or drake in a fight. “What are you wearing?” Trag asked, no longer able to hold back the question as the human looked very strange to him.
“Desert Armored Combat Fatigues, my throwing knives, combat knife, an assortment of tools I have found useful over the years, and a magic sling.” Waldo said, touching different things on his body. “The armor is stab resistant and there are several metal plates spread out in the fabric. If I get the job I would like to wear this until I can afford to get some locally made gear.”
“A magic sling?” Trag asked.
“Yeah, but I have limited ammo for it. It only works with special magic ammo and I doubt you have that here.” Waldo replied.
“Have you heard of a magic sling Strisk?” Trag asked.
“No, that is new to me.” Strisk replied. “I thought you could not use magic.”
“I cannot not cast a magic spell but this is an artifact. I could teach anyone to use it. If I had unlimited ammo or access to a bullet manufacturer I would be happy to show it off but I only have ninety rounds for it.” Waldo explained.
“How long have you been a soldier?” Trag asked, Waldo had seen himself in a mirror and knew they would not believe the truth. Waldo looked like he was in his prime but Halcyon slowed aging massively Waldo was older than any human got to normally and he was still unsure if he had died or Death’s healing had further reduced the effects of aging.
“Nine years.” Waldo replied, pushing it as far as he thought he could. Waldo had put his age down as twenty nine on the form, but knew he looked closer to twenty now. “I expect I will be sparing with one of you?”
“No, we are waiting for your sparring partners. I sent for two reservists. They generally are not needed for regular guard shifts and if they are injured it should not interfere with their regular jobs.” Trag stated, show us how good you are with throwing knives.
“Alright.” Waldo said, pulling four of the weighted knives from their sheaths. Waldo carried twelve in all. Four on his left leg, two on each arm and four on his chest. Waldo started by juggling the knives as he moved into position to throw them. Waldo smoothly plucked them out of the air as he was juggling them and launched them one after another in quick succession down the lane, with the knives sinking deep into the wooden target in a tight group.
“For having no skills that is pretty good. Now for the moving targets.” Trag said, with Waldo looking back at him as he pressed a button. Waldo watched as the targets began to move side to side. Waldo could tell this was intended for arrows as the range was longer than he would usually throw when it came to moving targets.
“May I move up or do you want me to throw from here?” Waldo asked.
“Tark throws from there.” Trag replied, Waldo grabbed two more knives, throwing them half a second after looking back at the target. Both landed bullseyes but Waldo could feel the strain on his muscles. He was not used to this distance. Waldo pulled two more and turned his back to the targets. Waldo slowly strafed toward the center of the range as he had started to the right side. After a moment making sure to give the targets time to move he spun around and with one hand launched both knives. One landed in a bullseye, but the other fell short. Waldo turned his back to the targets and drew all of his remaining knives placing them at the ready in one hand. Waldo turned and threw three and turned back around quickly. He heard 2 thuds and one that was a clang. He was not sure what the third had hit. Waldo spun around and sent his final knife down the lane hitting another bullseye. The three quick throws were not bullseyes but they had all hit targets.
“That is all the throwing knives I carry.” Waldo said. “Shall I collect them?”
“No, Strisk go get the knives and report back on how deep they are.” Trag said, turning the moving targets off. Waldo moved over to Trag as Strisk retrieved the knives. “Only one complete miss, that is not bad. If you are hired then we are gonna have to replace the knives with some weighted rods. We can issue you some bolas while on duty. Unless a kill order is issued, but most the time we will expect people to be taken alive.”
“Understandable. What is a bolas?” Waldo asked.
“It is three pieces of rope tied to each other on one end and has a weight on the other side. When throwing it, the intent is to hit a person's legs and if it works correctly it will wrap around a fleeing person’s legs and trip them. In town it can be tricky to use and for people they have lighter weights. It was originally used to hunt various animals on the plains. If the weights are too heavy they can break bones.” Trag said, explained. “What class are you?”
Waldo had been preparing for this question since they had asked him earlier. “Diplomat.” Waldo replied.
“You have no levels in a combat class but you are a diplomat as a soldier?” Trag questioned.
“When I use skills from it as a soldier it is generally in interrogations, but my personal goal was to try and find less violent solutions to my nation's disputes. So, I ended up becoming a diplomat. The times I acted in that capacity I was glad to have trained as a soldier. Few people seem to want peaceful resolutions. So as a diplomat I have often been met with violence.” Waldo explained twisting the truth. They stood in silence as they waited for Strisk to finish retrieving the knives. Strisk handed Waldo eleven of the knives and Trag one of the knives.
“Six perfect hits. Three near perfects. Two hits. One miss. Ten hits were all very deep. The one that made the clang hit a metal frame holding the target. It dented the metal and chipped his knife.” Strisk reported as Waldo sheathed the eleven knives he had been handed. Waldo looked at Trag just in time to catch his face returning to a neutral state after what Waldo believed to be a frown.
“How is your hand to hand combat proficiency?”Trag asked.
“I am an expert with a knife, however, I could easily swap it out for a padded baton. It would be harder on me, but I am sure I can hold my own.” Waldo said, showing the knife sheathed across his lower back and trying to determine Trag’s mood. Trag examined the knife and could see it was custom made for Waldo and well used.
“Strisk, you are good to go on patrol. Your partner should be ready about now.” Trag said, with a hint of sadness.
“I was hoping to stay and see him fight the reservists.” Strisk said, a little excited and as Strisk said that it clicked for Waldo.
“No one is coming. To test my combat proficiency.” Waldo said, calmly. “Sorry, Strisk. I should have known better.”
“We should go to my office and talk.” Trag said and handed Waldo the chipped knife Strisk had handed him.
“Wait, why?” Strisk asked, Trag.
“Politics, Strisk. Guardsmen are just a little political, which means Trag cannot hire another human. Especially, not in a citizen-facing role.” Waldo said, with a smile. “Am I right?”
“Violet, is our scribe. Citizen’s see her.” Strisk said looking confused.
“Violet is my scribe. She assists with filing and compiling guardsmen reports. She has only covered the front desk on a few occasions and usually it is to give another scribe a break or chance to go to the bathroom.” Trag stated.
“Strisk, thank you for introducing me to Captain Trag. I truly appreciate this opportunity. I would be happy to speak to you in your office Trag.” Waldo said, smiling at both of them.
“Sorry, Waldo… I didn’t realize.” Strisk said dejectly. Waldo laughed lightly.
“You have done no harm at all and even helped me file documents I needed to in order to stay. You introduced me to your Captain. Strisk, you have been nothing but helpful. Please do not feel sorry.” Waldo said, smiling at Strisk.
“Thanks, I guess I should get going.” Strisk said, clearly feeling better. “Sir. Waldo.” Strisk said, nodding his head to each of them and leaving. Trag started heading towards the guard house and motioned for Waldo to follow, which Waldo did in silence. Trag opened the door and sure enough Violet was no longer at the front desk. There was a male Drake scribe sitting behind the counter.
“Sir.” The drake said, standing up to greet them. Trag waved his hand and the drake sat back down. Waldo followed him up a set of stairs and down a hall to an open room with three scribes working on various documents on a table big enough for four, one of which was Violet.
“Your morning report sir.” A female gnoll scribe said, smiling at Trag and holding a folder. She noticed Waldo and her demeanor changed slightly. She glanced at Violet as Trag grabbed the folder.
“Thank you. I have a meeting for a few minutes. Is there anything urgent?” Trag gestured at Waldo. The scribes all looked up and gave a negative nod. “If needed you may interrupt us.” Trag said, opening his office door and leading Waldo into his office. It was a plain room. There were several chairs facing the back of the room with a large desk and chair behind it facing the door. There were two sturdy looking bookcases organized with an assortment of documents. The room was clean and orderly. A couch sat against one wall with a window behind it that had shutters and Waldo noticed a plain axe with a rope next to it leaning against a bookcase. “Please take a seat.” Trag said, opening the folder as he moved around the desk and sat down. Waldo sat across from him. They sat in silence as Trag read over a few reports. “Thank you for your patience.” Trag said look up from the report.
“Anything important?” Waldo asked.
“No, just the normal going on. Except for you of course.” Trag said.
“Yeah, I made a surprising entrance last night.” Waldo agreed.
“Teleportation has a tendency to create some alerts. If Strisk had not reported your arrival last night, the guard may have interrupted your welcome to our fine city.” Trag replied.
“That report is more thorough than I would have liked.” Waldo stated.
“Kna is a friend and Aer is a gossip.” Trag replied.
“I should have waited in the common room. We could have talked last night.” Waldo guessed.
“Doubtful, but I would have known your face this morning if you had.” Trag stated.
“I had hoped this was an offer for contract work of some kind.” Waldo said, frowning slightly.
“It still might be. I have not determined what to do about you.” Trag replied.
“Oh, well is there something you would like cleared up?” Waldo asked, smiling.
“Kna is worried about one of her barmaids. Aer has never seen her friend respond so positively to someone so quickly.” Trag stated, calmly. Waldo knew they were straying into dangerous territory.
“I have never responded to another human as positively.” Waldo replied, honestly.
“Just two soulmates meeting for the first time?” Trag asked, Waldo jerked in surprise at the word reacting before he could stop himself. Waldo realized Trag did not mean it the way he had taken it but it was too late. Trag had been watching him closely and was now looking unsure at Waldo. “I think you have some explaining to do.” Trag said, prepared to strike. Waldo leaned forward and placed his head in his hand dropping his show.
“This cannot under any circumstances leave this room. If you have listeners they need to stop. If you have a way to make the room secure. I will tell you enough to know why.” Waldo said, unsure of what would happen next.
“What, so can you kill me in silence?” Trag asked, feeling concerned about this stranger's response.
“If you want to tie me up feel free, but I am not talking until I am confident the secret won’t leave this room.” Waldo said, sitting back and calming his nerves. Waldo was trying to figure out how to explain this with as little lying as possible. Waldo wondered if he could avoid lying all together. Trag hesitated for a minute then opened a drawer and pulled out a small box. Trag said a command word under his breath and the box activated.
“Alright, we are alone and no one can see or hear us. This better be good or I won’t keep your secret.” Trag said.
“Have you ever been in love so much it hurt your soul?” Waldo asked.
“What?” Trag asked, surprised.
“I have. If I had understood this was possible. If I had known. I would have done so many things differently.” Waldo said, deciding to be as honest as he felt he could. “I thought she was dead. I joined the wrong people to get vengeance. To make it stop. In doing, so I pissed off some really powerful people. I thought my master was strong enough to protect me and I thought I was powerful enough to protect myself. I want to tell Lydia so bad. I want her to remember our time together. Every second we spent together. If I had magic this would be so easy but using magic to accomplish it would be wrong.” Waldo said, with tears in his eyes. “I wish I could just show her. However, the people I pissed off took my ability to use magic. I did not even know that was possible.” Waldo said, holding out an open palm. “Light.” Trag felt magic tug slightly, but nothing happened. “They took my magic so I could not interfere. When they did that I thought they would send me to a prison cell or some equally horrible place. They cursed me with unwanted knowledge I can barely grasp. Part of my mind is still trying to rip itself apart. But instead of sending me to a desert. They toss me like I am nothing and I land inside Spriggan Inn, in Protham barely even hurt. I did know she was the same soul at first. Standing in the dim light of the inn. She looks the same. Alive working as a barmaid in a place I have never even heard of. She doesn’t even remember me but she was drawn to me just like I was to her all those years ago.” Waldo said. “Kna is worried I might hurt her and honestly so am I. However, if we are to separate again I would have her tell me to go. It would be the most painful thing I ever do but I would leave if she asked. I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me, but I have found my dead lover again, my soulmate and I never thought I would see her. She died so I figured that was it. I did not know about the cycle but now I do. So please give me the chance to win her.” Waldo finished with tears at the corners of his eyes. “Please, I am begging you.” Trag knew Waldo was leaving part out but felt he was being honest and looking at Waldo Trag knew he held this man’s life in his hands at this moment. Trag looked at Waldo and activated several skills he had for conversations like this. Trag knew Waldo did not intend harm at this time or harm to his city.
“For the moment. You have convinced me.” Trag said, still slightly concerned, something about him bothered Trag, but Trag was confident the stranger would be unlikely to deliberately cause problems in Protham.
“Thank you for giving me a chance. I will prove I mean no harm.” Waldo said, starting to recover his composure. Trag grabbed the rope and axe, placing them on his desk.
“Do you know how to cut down a tree?” Trag asked.
“Yes.” Waldo replied.
“As captain of the guard. I am allotted two trees every year. The town allows me to do as I will with the tree tokens, I am issued. The mill will pay me five gold per token on average. However, If I cut the tree down and turn in the tree with the token they will right now pay eight gold. If you cut a tree down and turn it in for me. I will let you keep two gold coins of those eight.” Trag stated placing a token on the table.
“Sounds like a good deal.” Waldo replied.
“Have you hunted boar?” Trag asked.
“I have hunted. Not specifically boar but I am familiar with the complexities they present.” Waldo replied, wondering where this was going.
“Currently, we have a boar problem on the western road and several groups have been attacked by boars. It is quite troublesome. Protham does not have an adventuring guild and most hunters will hunt safer game or only kill one or two boars at a time. You can rent a hand cart for a day for three coppers at the docks. Usually they are used to transport fish around town. They are sturdy carts and can hold several hundred kilos. There are several blacksmiths in town that sell quality steel tipped javelins, for a silver. Now they are not perfect for hunting boar but they should work well enough. Currently, I have placed a bounty on boar kills of a silver per boar jaw turned in. We will even buy the dead boar for one and half coppers per five pounds. However, you could show us the boar, collect the silver, then most local butchers will buy dead boar for two copper per five pounds. Those are the current rates for whole boars” Trag explained.
“Sounds like I have a tree to chop down.” Waldo said standing.
“Out the main gate past the mill and then pick an un-worked tree the taller the better. They pay less for trees shorter than twenty feet and more for trees taller than twenty five feet. If you are willing to search there are some forty and fifty footers out there. I expect six gold regardless.” Trag stated.
“Why are you doing this?” Waldo asked.
“It is not one thing. Lots of little things adding up. Kna is a friend and Lydia is important to her. Kna knows I cannot employ you as a guard. This keeps you out of trouble. Solves a problem for me and if you work hard. Kna might start to like you. I was not going to be able to cut my second tree down before the end of the year. There are more reasons, but in the end, I see no downside for me giving you this chance.” Trag stated plainly.
“Well thank you. I appreciate this.” Waldo said and picked up the axe smiling.
“Good Luck. I plan to eat dinner at Spriggan Inn. So if you get back after sunset you can find me there.” Trag said, gesturing for Waldo to leave.
“Thank you, again!” Waldo said, leaving. After he closed the door he looked for Violet but she was not there. Waldo headed to the stairs back to the entryway. Violet wasn’t there either so he left a message for her and headed back to the Inn. Waldo wanted to ditch his armor before heading out to cut down a tree.

Let me break this down for everyone, the title was meant to be alarming. My older sister (40F) is a single mother to three kids, a 9 year old girl, a 2 year old girl, and a 4 year old boy. All very sweet kids. Unfortunately my sister was messing with some really sketchy people and about 7 months ago she got arrested. Either the kids got split up in the foster care system or they were taken care of by immediate family. Which is me and my husband. We gladly opened our home to the kids because we love them and we’d do anything for them. We live in a three bedroom house, so we let the two year old’s crib stay in our room, then the other kids get their own room. We thought it would be temporary as my sister was adamant she would beat the case but from 6 months ago, from the trajectory of the court case, she looks like she’ll be facing about 5 years minimum.
Being with the kids has been bliss, for the most part, but if it was all sunshine and rainbows i wouldn’t have made this account. My husband and I don’t have any kids, nor did we plan on having any kids. Because we are of “parental age” (that’s what the social workers called us) we are just expected to know what to do in terms of raising them. I mean, we got the practical part of it down. A breakfast routine, school, sleep time, homework, practices. All that stuff we’ve got down, in terms of that the kids haven’t been very fussy.
Everything was going well up until about 4 months ago, and everything just seemingly changed overnight. The 9 year old became extremely rude, mouthy, swearing, just all around disrespectful towards us. After many “you will not talk to me like that” she stopped listening. She throws full tantrums. Throws cutlery, completely refuses to do anything at all. During a tantrum she will completely destroy her bedroom and refuse to clean it up. Her younger brother has started to copy her behaviour by also being destructive. He spills rice and sugar on the floor, throws temper tantrums be it at home, in the store, at a restaurant. Completely destroys the house, drawing on the walls, our cars, with permanent markers.
We acknowledged that the kids might be acting out due to the overwhelming feelings of uncertainty they’re feeling. They just stopped living with their mother whom they barely see anymore, they live in a new house, they don’t know when things will feel normal again. I thought maybe they’re acting up because they think that we will send them back to their mom? I don’t know. The social worker judged us a lot when we told her we really don’t know what to do. She didn’t help much. A friend told me to try a behavioural therapist, but I think it’s too soon to send them to that just yet.
They’re not bad kids, we know what they’re going through, but we genuinely don’t know how to help them or make anything easier for them. So here I am on reddit, as my last resort, asking for any sort of help. If i was vague in my explaining ask me for more detail if that will help.