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For a moment I am shocked. If I had expected anyone to be here, aside from the Librarian herself, it would be Ricardo! But I guess the world is trying to surprise me today? Then again, considering the rumors, miss Pelafina wasn’t that much of an outrage either.

Then it hits me. What does she mean ‘took you long enough’, huh!?

“She was waiting for y—”

Yes I get that part! Was this whole deal a game for her?

I take my first steps towards her, a little indignant and I feel it is justified, but then I notice something in the corner of my eye. Movement. I immediately turn on my heels to face it: there’s shades of black in the darkness, at least in one spot. Soon, a figure steps up from the corner of the room, dressed in a long black cloak, dressing pants and elegant shoes. The hood covers their head and some magical darkness obscurs their eyes, but I can see a few locks of green hair slip from underneath the shadow.

The figure lifts a hand, they are even wearing black gloves! That’s some commitment to the bit.

“Yo. The name is Lucía. Sorry for skulking around but it is kind of my job; I assume you already know Overseer Pelafina?” She smirks. “She gets around! She said she was waiting for a Bastard to arrive but, Hell, we thought it was just an excuse of hers to skip work!”

“I am very responsible, excuse you.” Pelafina frowns, shaking her head softly. “Ignore Lucy, dear. She’s just my assigned guard, here to keep me safe!”

Her assigned guard? So she IS with the Cloaks after all! I mean, if the cloak she’s wearing wasn’t indication enough. I don’t like her, not one bit. She’s smiling too much, just balancing on her heels and toes while I stand there. I don’t wanna say I hate her, we’ve barely exchanged words… but I don’t like her. Not one bit.

I decide to take Pelafina’s words to heart and ignore her, when another thing hits me.

“Overseer Pelafina!? But you’re just the lady from the bookstore!” I think my eyes are going to jump right out of my skull like in one of those old cartoons.

“A girl has to move up in this world if she wants to survive.” The old lady chuckled, just a little bit. “You know my name, but I never truly caught yours though. How do we call you, dear?”

Fuck, here we go with names again… but hey, maybe this is a great chance to build a new identity for myself!

“People call me Tav.” I say, trying to puff up my chest a bit.

“That was not what she asked though!” Lucía intervenes with a singsongy voice.

“Oh let her have her own nom de guerre, Lucy. It’s adorable!” Having these two messing with me is really going to be bad for my health. I’ll have to endure it though. “Alright then, Tav. If you’re here, I assume you managed to read through the book at least a bit?”

I flinch. Just how much does this woman know? Did she know the contents of the book from the start? Is this a weird ‘Hero’s journey’ situation? A mysterious adventure she has sent me into so I grow as a person?

Or is she just fucking with me.

“Well? Don’t keep me waiting! It’s been days!” Pelafina insists with a twinkle shining in her eyes.

“... I have a few words translated.” I managed to say.

“Oh great! So Humiko left you hints. That’s great.”

“Miss Pelafina–”

“Please, just call me P.”

“Uhm. Miss P.” I gulp. “Just how much do you know of the book, exactly?”

“Well, Humiko asked me personally to keep it safe, so that’s one thing.” The overseer counts with her fingers. “I know it is written in Magic Runes, which… shouldn’t be possible, and yet, there it is! I trust Humiko enough to know it has to be real.”

“Wait.” I blink. “What do you mean ‘shouldn’t be possible’?”

“Magic is not a language, or at least it hasn’t been understood as one until… well, right now.” The old lady smiles a bit wider. “If you manage to make more sense of it than a few phrases, you’d be making history, boy!”

Again with the damn gendering… I frown a little bit but, try not to make it too visible. I gotta focus.

“Yeah, get it together. This is not the time for your ridiculous whining.”

Sigh.

“So you know what the book is, but you don’t know what it says.”

“To be honest, I am not really sure what it is either.” Pelafina admits with an embarrassed grin. “All I know is that it is a project Humiko had for a long time already, and according to her express instructions, the hints could only be read by a sleeper.”

I haven’t really checked if I can no longer check Humiko’s note in the book, so there’s homework for when I return.

“I am sorry we put this on you with deceit and all, but would you have really believed me if I said ‘You have to study magic’ just like that?” The old lady shrugs. “It was necessary, and if Ricardo could see the potential in you, then this was surely the correct choice.”

“Is Ricardo an Overseer too?” I feel like that is a sensible question.

“Oh heavens no, he’s a Sleeper. Not a word of this to him, you hear me?” P’s gesture grows severe for a moment. “I don’t want him involved in such things at his age. He had enough adventures already.”

I guess the rumors of Ricardo being a world-trotting adventurer are also true. Huh.

“So. Tell me, what did you learn?”

She’s very eager… I can notice Lucía’s gaze on me, too. They are both very, very eager.

“This doesn’t make sense.”

Right? It’s all wrong.

The book’s first warning was to avoid the cloaks, and yet here’s P! Just hanging out with this one, talking about the book like it’s nothing!

Well, if it’s true that she doesn’t know the contents, I can lie through my teeth!

“Well… I’ve learned a few characters. Do you have somewhere to write?” My body suddenly relaxes, my demeanor tightens. I may be bad at many things, but lying? I was born lying in this world and I can keep it up no matter what.

“Ah, sure. Lucy!”

The guard walks up to me casually, offering me a fancy black leather notebook decorated with a golden apple and a silver arrow piercing it. She even opens the yellow pages for me, and provides a cheap plastic pen.

I nod, and quickly begin scribbling.

I scribble ‘Tlo’i’, ‘Golthoi’ and ‘Thako’ with their respective symbols.

“There. These are the ones I’ve learned.”

Lucía looks at me dead in the eye for a moment. I can feel the sharpness of her wit, she’s trying to read me… but it will be useless. I am in a dissertation now, bitch. I’ve been doing these for years, it’s my one skill.

“Interesting.” Lucía nods.

“So, what do these mean?” Pelafina approaches us to check on the symbols. “Terrible calligraphy, by the way.”

“Yeah, I know.” The confidence abandons me for a moment, before I puff up my chest again and begin talking. “The first one is the word for ‘Butterfly’. The second one is a word for the action of turning something on, the third one… I am not sure yet.”

“When used on a spell, it makes the effect happen upon touching the glyph.” Lucía knows. “It’s a very common one.”

“Glyph?” I tilt my head.

“She means a combination of Runes, dear.” P smiles warmly. “Alright, so ‘Butterfly’, ‘Ignite’ and ‘Touch’, then?”

I never said ‘Ignite’ for Golthoi, but I guess that is a interpretation of it?

… Interesting. That these things have different meanings in different contexts, would that affect casting?

“Ah, I also found this.” I draw ‘Jo’ in the book. “Does this mean anything?”

“That one is used to counteract spells. If you draw this in a Glyph, it cancels its effect.” Lucía seems happy to provide the knowledge I lack.

I actually appreciate it, for it immediately made something click in my brain.

“It means ‘No’.” A voice whispers in my head, my own voice.

Yes. It’s a negative. That’s why it isn’t so common on its own. When added to another symbol, it negates it. ‘No-Light’ must be a way to say ‘Darkness’ or such… or… backwards, ‘No-Darkness’ equals ‘Light’.

Would this be dependent on the culture?

I smile a little bit to myself. This knowledge I will keep up my sleeve for now.

“What’s that smile for? Did you see something new?” Lucía is way too sharp to keep that smile from. I have to make something up quick.

“I realized I now know how to counter spells. That’s so cool…” I whisper to myself, channeling some of that wonder into my lie.

She seems to buy it, for she immediately focuses on correcting me.

“Knowing the Counterspell Rune is not enough, there are other factors to consider, so don’t go around trying to counter every spell so quickly.” She give me a smile I really dislike.

“Hmmm… well, that’s plenty for now,if that is all.” Pelafina shrugs softly. “It is quite late already… go back home for now, Tav.”

“B-But. I have so many questions!” I immediately pout. Saints damn it, so close to learn actually useful stuff!

“Yes, but sadly I cannot teach you. As the Overseer, I am bound by oath to remain neutral and not show favoritism for anyone.” The woman shrugged. “So, I can’t really teach you much. But, if you identify more words, I can definitely give you a few more pointers!”

“Fine…” A defeated sigh escapes my lips. So I’ll have to buy knowledge with knowledge, hmm? I look at Lucía for a second.

“Nope. I am too young to teach.” She immediately denies me.

“Tsk.” I look down… but then, an idea comes to me. Just a confirmation I need to get. “Can I check more stuff online? Maybe there’s resources out there…”

Pelafina frowns, looking at Lucía and waiting for her to explain. She eventually does, with a sigh.

“The process of getting on the internet as a mage is hard. You need a special router and everything, it’s honestly not worth it.” The guard shakes her head. “If you want, we can provide you one next time. But really, there aren’t many resources online for this… mages are isolationists, usually.”

Ah hah! So they don’t know of the forum! Alright then, that’s another point to my advantage.

“I don’t think I’ll need that, I have enough with mundane internet thank you very much.” I chuckle a little bit.

“I never got the so called ‘interwebs’ to be honest.” P grins. “Now, off to bed you go. Shoo, shoo. Remember coming back here at night, alright? That’s when it is nice and empty.”

Honestly, a nice and empty place to try and translate sounds fine to me. But I can just do that at home…

Besides. These people are dripfeeding me the information I need, so they are probably not trustworthy in the slightest.

I feel a little bad for not trusting Pelafina immediately, but…

“She threw you into this mess without consent.”

“Yeah, fuck her.”

Right.

“Alright then, I am going. Thank you again for everything, miss P!” I fail to hold back a yawn as I turn around and stand on the stairs. They… are still going up. “Uh.”

“The other stairs dear, there’s a magic escalator down.” Lucía tries not to laugh at my face, and fails.

“A-Ah, thank you.”

With a heavy sigh, I take the right escalator this time and disappear down the stairs. Looking at my clock, it’s already three in the morning…time to sleep for sure.

With some luck, the pillow will make this all make much more sense.


As Tav finally disappeared from the Elysium, and the sound of a closing door echoed through the room, Pelafina let out a little sigh, shaking her head.

“This isn’t going to work.” She commented, crossing her arms. “This girl is no good.”

“She seems smart enough. The type to keep notes….” Lucía suggested, her smile growing slowly.

“What are you suggesting?”

“Well. If we give her a few months and turns out she doesn’t make any breakthroughs, we can always… you know.”

“I don’t.”

“We can take her stuff.” Lucía finally said. “Just erase her memory and take the book and the notes back! With some luck, she probably took notes of the hints.”

“...Lucy, you’re diabolical.” The old crone chuckled loudly. “Ohhh, I guess we will get our chips back no matter how this gamble goes, then!”

“Of course! But I still don’t know why we can’t just go to a family of Mages and put this on their sleeper child!”

“That bitch Humiko probably thought of something like that.” A grumble escaped from the old lady. “This is our safest bet.”

“Well, I am just saying. If this experiment of yours doesn’t pay up, I may have to talk about this with the rest of the Coven…~” Lucía’s eyes were, for a moment, fully visible under that hood, brightly green. “And you know the captain wouldn’t like you skulking around with unapproved knowledge.~”

“Oh shush, you won’t.” Pelafina seemed quite confident of this. “Not after coming this close to finally finding that bitch…”

The overseer sighed, looking up to the fake stars for a moment while rubbing her hands together. What was this she felt? Anxiety?

“... It has to work, Lucía.” She finally said. “It has to.”

“What if it doesn’t though?” The guard tilted her head.

“It has to… it is our only way to free our King from his cell.”

“Welp, let’s hope this girl works fast!”

“I know. After all, King Hamil isn’t a patient man.”

Moby has always been a mainstay in house music and electronica in general. And on May 17th, 1999, he released his fifth studio album Play to critical and commercial success, becoming a rare phenomenon in the dance world.

…..but not in the way you would expect. You see, not even Moby thought he would make an impact, and originally intended to retire after that. So what makes his success story so unique? And how did this album become the best selling electronica album of all time? Let’s take a deep dive!

A quick recap into his early career

Throughout the 80s, Moby was involved in multiple underground punk rock bands. At the tail end of the decade, he shifted his interests towards the then-burgeoning electronic music scene, moving to New York City and taking up producing, remixing and DJ-ing as a result. By 1991, his single “Go” became an instant success and propelled him into stardom. For the next few years, he scored multiple dance hits (including a remix of the James Bond theme).

It was in 1996 when he released his album Animal Rights where everything went wrong. His sudden shift to punk and metal inspired music alienated much of his fan base and proved to be a critical and commercial failure, leaving him in a bit of a disarray. By this point, much of his audience began to cast doubts as to who Moby was as an artist, and while he asserted that the stylistic change was only temporary, it didn’t stop them from leaving his side. His own touring was disastrous, and him opening for alt-rock band Soundgarden was met with boos and jeers, prompting him on leaving music altogether. But thanks to artists like Bono, Axl Rose and Terence Trent D'Arby giving positive reactions to his Animal Rights album, he decided to stay a little while longer.

Background

Play's musical direction began around the time Moby's friend, Gregor Ehrlich loaned him a 1993 box set titled "Sounds of the South: A Musical Journey from the Georgia Sea Islands to the Mississippi Delta." by Alan Lomax. In it, a wide collection of folk music recorded throughout the 20th century.
Moby began to work on Play in August 1997, but touring obligations as well as unsatisfactory mixing sessions caused multiple delays. According to Moby's manager, Eric Härle had stated their original goal was to sell 250,000 copies, which was what Everything Is Wrong (1995), Moby's biggest-selling album at the time, had sold. Moby had doubts in achieving that, and many of the labels seemed to agree. Moby lost his outlet to released Play in the US following his removal from Elektra's roster of artists, leaving UK-based Mute Records as his sole label. Looking for US records to distribute was a struggle, with major label records like Warner Bros., Sony and RCA rejecting him. Even after V2 picked up the offer, most of the journalists passed on listening to the album. By March of 1999, two months before release, Moby began contemplating on his future and felt that maybe it's best to just throw in the towel and retire.

Play debuted at number 33 on the UK Albums Chart, but fell off shortly after. In addition, the radio and network airplay the songs received was very minimal. At this point, the goal was to simply get people to listen to the music; for that to happen, Moby and his management had to get really creative. While brainstorming, the team noticed a few agencies flocking to them for permission to use the music as soundbeds. That marked the moment a huge lightbulb went off on everybody's head; there's great potential in using licensing.
Licenses weren’t exactly lucrative but it was an alternate way of exposing listeners to the music rather than just radio. Management team was very diligent in looking for licenses, nevertheless, they took painstaking care of which requests were more appropriate for certain songs. Eventually they succeeded in getting every track on the album licensed, with "7" being the last track to do so.

Singles

Play's rollout consisted of eight singles. I've listed the samples used as well as where the songs are heard. While I listed as many licenses as I could, I tried to keep it within a 5 year timeframe. Forgive me as I know I missed a few but it's tough to find older, obscure commercials.

Honey
After discovering an a cappella song from Lomax's box set, Moby wrote this song in about 10 minutes. The song had minimal radio airplay but still managed to chart in several places including the UK Singles Chart (#33) and Billboard's Dance/Electronic Singles Sales (#95). A remix was later released featuring American R&B artist, Kelis.
Licensed: Permanent Midnight (1998), The 13th Warrior (1999), Maxwell Coffee (1999), Holes (2003),
Samples: Bessie Jones - Sometimes (1960)

Run On
This was one the first Play tracks Moby made. Due to the amount of samples, putting this song together proved to be a major challenge. Sampling the original folk song "God's Gonna Cut You Down" by Bill Landford and the Landfordaires, Moby didn’t know about the song's popularity until after recording it. It’s been covered by many artists including Elvis, Bobbie Gentry and Johnny Cash.
Licensed: Renault Kangoo (199x), Harsh Realm (1999), Mercy Streets (2000), Osmosis Jones (2001),
Samples: Bill Landford and The Landfordaires - Run On For A Long Time (1949), Melvin Bliss - Synthetic Substitution (1973)

Bodyrock
Fun fact: Both of Moby's managers tried to convince him not to include the song on the album, as they thought it sounded too similar to a Fatboy Slim, but he insisted on keeping it as he liked the song for its sample.
Licensed: Dawson's Creek (1998), Rolling Rock Beer (2000), Hype (2000), FIFA 2001 (2000), Buffy The Vampire Slayer (2001), Veronica's Closet theme (2003)
Samples: Spoonie Gee and The Treacherous Three - Love Rap (1980), Gang of Four - What We All Want (1981), Afrika Bambaataa and Soulsonic Force - Looking for the Perfect Beat (1983)

Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad
Moby originally wrote this back in 1992 as a techno song. Unsatisfied with the result, he never released it. Years later, he revisited the song, reproducing it with slower and more sorrowful tone, Eric Härle encouraged him to include it on the album. Kelis also provided vocals on a remix of this track.
Licensed: The Next Best Thing (2000), Millennium Mambo (2001), Lovely Rita (2001), Black Hawk Down trailer (2001), Associaçao Desportiva de Deficientes (2004)
Samples: The Banks Brothers and The Greater Harvest Back Home Choir - He'll Roll Your Burdens Away (1966), Delegate vs. Emo-Trance - Return to Tasmania (1998)

Natural Blues
Music video features Christina Ricci (famous for her Wednesday Addams role)
Licensed: Shadow Hours (2000), Freddy Got Fingered (2001), Joan Of Arcadia (2003), Basic (2003)
Samples: Vera Hall - Trouble So Hard (1937), Coke Escovedo - I Wouldn't Change a Thing (1976), The Banks Brothers and The Greater Harvest Back Home Choir - All the Way (1966)

Porcelain
A standout of the album, it's one of the only songs on the album that Moby sings on.
Licensed: The Beach (2000), Nordstrom 'Doorway' (2000), VW Polo 'Lunchtime' (2000), Bailey's Irish Cream (200x)
Samples: Ernest Gold - Fight for Survival (1961), Electra - Destiny (The Remix)(1989)

South Side
Initially recorded with No Doubt frontwoman Gwen Stefani, production problems forced Moby to leave Stefani's vocals off the mix of the song included on the album; her vocals were later restored for the song's single release.
Licensed: I cant find any :(
Samples: The Counts - What's Up Front That Counts (1971)
Find My Baby
The final single (obviously)
Licensed: Any Given Sunday (1999), Charmed (2000), Nissan Almera II (2000), American Express 'Tiger Woods Plays Manhattan' (2000)
Samples: Boy Blue - Joe Lee's Rock (1960), Louis Bellson, Shelly Manne, Willie Bobo & Paul Humphrey - Super Mellow (1975)

As for the deep cuts (once again, I couldn’t find them all).

Rushing
Licensed: Weather Channel (2000s-2010s)
Samples: n/a

Machete
Licensed: Play It To The Bone (1999), Mission Hill 'Andy Joins The PTA.' (2002)
Samples: Tom Jones - Looking Out My Window (1968), Incredible Bongo Band - Apache (1973)

7
Licensed: unknown
Samples: n/a

Down Slow
Licensed: unknown
Samples: n/a

If Things Were Perfect
Licensed: unknown
Samples: Willie Hutch - Hospital Prelude of Love Theme (1974)

Everloving
Licensed: Requeum For a Dream trailer (2000), Thortons Chocolates ad (200x)
Samples: n/a

Inside
Licensed: Riding Giants (2004)
Samples: n/a

Guitar Flute & String
Licensed: unknown
Samples: n/a

The Sky Is Broken
Licensed: The X-Files 'All Things' (2000) (fun fact: Gillian Anderson hand-picked this song!)
Samples: Creedence Clearwater Revival - Long as I Can See the Light (1970), SMPTE Timecode - Audio Sample (1967)


My Weakness
Licensed: The X-Files 'Closure' (2000), Any Given Sunday (1999), Behind Enemy Lines (2001), The Salton Sea (2002)
Samples: Kanak - Danse Nyinewaco De Tiga (1990)

Conclusion

Play was the breakthrough album Moby needed to break into the mainstream, landing DJ gigs across the world before he even knew it. It was the first album to have all of its tracks licensed. The licensing approach was a resounding success that helped increase the album's visibility along with radio and MTV. In fact, it was so lucrative that the album was already considered a financial success before it even reached multi-platinum sales! Overall, Play's journey to being a cultural phenomenon was a slow but gradual one, with the album re-entering the top 100 charts and have many of its songs hit the charts across multiple countries. Before you knew it, the whole blues-meets-electronica was everywhere (even Adele cited this album as an influence on 25).

Using popular songs for commercial purposes is nothing new but with Play, many viewed this album as redefining the concept of "commercial". Not everybody was on board with this, many techno purists scoffed at his approach for success, seeing Moby as an ultimate sell-out, and his music being devalued as a result. Despite this, Moby remained steadfast in his decisions. Now, 25 years on, with a staggering 12 million sold worldwide, Play still remains the best selling electronica album of all time.

Questions

What was your experience with this album? Did you enjoy it?
Do you feel the push for licensing really changed the game? For better or for worse?
Do you feel this album has any cultural relevance beyond its commercial ubiquity? Why or why not?

My family lives next to a man whose family farm historically included the land our house is in as well of many acres around us. The owner and his son/grandson would always mention how we were actually on part of their land, etc. for years. We would just laugh it off/ “well it isn’t now” later in private. They told my husband feel free to hunt on the land. When he attempted to, a family friend who already hunted there was very rude to him about it. So he just found another place to hunt. A few more incidences with that hunter who came on to my porch and threatened to shoot a gun over my head if I “wandered off my one acre” and eventually the hunter wasn’t allowed to hunt there anymore. Great. Except after I related that story to a neighbor I met, they evidently told the hunter and he was back on my porch knocking as my ring camera caught him. I didn’t answer so he came back again a few hours later. My daughter and I were home alone and it scared me. A few years after that (last Summer) my neighbor started selling off lots. He spent a large amount of time hanging out around the boundary of our lot taking with workers, etc., planting trees that border our lot. Put in a tall street sign and gravel road around the edge of one length of our lot and drove across the back instead of on the original road constantly. Weird, but whatever. I was home alone one day last summer and he and one of his handymen were along the side of our garden/lot spraying two large containers of Roundup all along our fully-ripened garden and our entire side yard. I was home with my young grandson and called my husband and showed him what he was doing. (He’s usually the less-volatile of the two of us) He said tell him to stop. Well, menopausal momma bear me went and did just that. I told him I didn’t want his cancer causing chemicals on our food supply. I saw red and told him off cussing him out. He told me “my name is on your house deed” like WTF??!! Umm NOOO?! His father was the original owner when we bought from someone who bought from their relatives. All the relatives signed off that they were okay with the sale- gave their right for first refusal- hold up the sale of a house for 90 days while they decided to buy it or not. When we bought it they all reconsidered when our lawyer wanted each signature notarized instead of one notarized signature. I know- this is so convoluted and ridiculous. We had allowed the very old man to be included as a first refusal- my husband was nicer than me. But I can’t believe nearly 20 years later and his asshole son is still under the misguided impression that we are squatters on his family land. Venting mostly here because -the audacity! Ugh I hate him so much. We spent $12,000 on a privacy fence so I can enjoy our backyard without the glaring eyes of his idiot handyman glaring at me and speeding cars along the gravel road. Ugh! Entitled asshole! My one recourse was to share the picture of this asshole with his full name on Facebook. Lol He and his son glare at me now. I don’t give a F! AITAH? Momma Bear had ENOUGH!

My family lives next to a man whose family farm historically included the land our house is in as well of many acres around us. The owner and his son/grandson would always mention how we were actually on part of their land, etc. for years. We would just laugh it off/ “well it isn’t now” later in private. They told my husband feel free to hunt on the land. When he attempted to, a family friend who already hunted there was very rude to him about it. So he just found another place to hunt. A few more incidences with that hunter who came on to my porch and threatened to shoot a gun over my head if I “wandered off my one acre” and eventually the hunter wasn’t allowed to hunt there anymore. Great. Except after I related that story to a neighbor I met, they evidently told the hunter and he was back on my porch knocking as my ring camera caught him. I didn’t answer so he came back again a few hours later. My daughter and I were home alone and it scared me. A few years after that (last Summer) my neighbor started selling off lots. He spent a large amount of time hanging out around the boundary of our lot taking with workers, etc., planting trees that border our lot. Put in a tall street sign and gravel road around the edge of one length of our lot and drove across the back instead of on the original road constantly. Weird, but whatever. I was home alone one day last summer and he and one of his handymen were along the side of our garden/lot spraying two large containers of Roundup all along our fully-ripened garden and our entire side yard. I was home with my young grandson and called my husband and showed him what he was doing. (He’s usually the less-volatile of the two of us) He said tell him to stop. Well, menopausal momma bear me went and did just that. I told him I didn’t want his cancer causing chemicals on our food supply. I saw red and told him off cussing him out. He told me “my name is on your house deed” like WTF??!! Umm NOOO?! His father was the original owner when we bought from someone who bought from their relatives. All the relatives signed off that they were okay with the sale- gave their right for first refusal- hold up the sale of a house for 90 days while they decided to buy it or not. When we bought it they all reconsidered when our lawyer wanted each signature notarized instead of one notarized signature. I know- this is so convoluted and ridiculous. We had allowed the very old man to be included as a first refusal- my husband was nicer than me. But I can’t believe nearly 20 years later and his asshole son is still under the misguided impression that we are squatters on his family land. Venting mostly here because -the audacity! Ugh I hate him so much. We spent $12,000 on a privacy fence so I can enjoy our backyard without the glaring eyes of his idiot handyman glaring at me and speeding cars along the gravel road. Ugh! Entitled asshole! My one recourse was to share the picture of this asshole with his full name on Facebook. Lol He and his son glare at me now. I don’t give a F! AITAH? Momma Bear had ENOUGH!

Hi, I know the title is ambiguous but I promise to tell you everything. This is my first post and it’s like 4am, so please bear with me as I get through this. I worked at a kennel that doubled as a security company training ground with a pretty large k9 security guard company where I live. There are multiple different levels of dogs that would stay ranging from the scaredy cats to the mean machines. These mean machines were off in an area by themselves in a kennel type room where it’s no touch. We can help the dog but didn’t have to enter its space to do so. There was one in this section, he lived at the kennel because he was a “failed” k9 dog. I asked what happened. Apparently he doesn’t like crates and he shredded his handlers arm. I would be pretty angry if my life was comprised of 70% crate time to 30% outside time. Then you have handlers who have never even spent any real time around a dog until training, so add the green human to a powerful working dog, it’s not really the best ingredients for success…
Sure the dog gave me crazy eyes for the first 3 weeks but with the help of treats, my puppy voice and being brave enough to pet him with my finger through the crack, I won him over. Treats, sitting on the floor with him giving him lovies and looking him in the eye. I needed him to know I was never going to hurt him. I was able to get to a point where I could leash him and walk him. Sure maybe others could too but no one trusted him enough to do so. At some point the boss started saying things like “want him?” “I’ll give you $XXX if you adopt him”. “If you don’t take him he’s going to the rainbow bridge”. Now at this point I was upset and told the general manager and he came back saying that it was just a joke and he’s asked the person who made that comment to knock it off. So I believed him. Not too long after that I truly think he was mad I spoke to someone so they said I was no longer allowed inside his room as he cannot be trusted. These men who train dogs and humans to handle these dogs- for a living. They couldn’t be bothered to even work on his issues to adopt him out. So rather than do their job as trainers- they put him down. I was actually thinking of adopting him and was at the point I wanted to see how he’d react to my dog. I don’t use a kennel and my dogs go anywhere they please except the counter and tables so I thought hey, if he likes my guy, then maybe this might work. Well I never got the chance to even try because they advised me of the “new rules” despite hounding me to adopt said dog. How am I supposed to do that if I can’t work on him and acclimate my personal dog in a safe neutral zone. I was unfortunately fired because I stood up for people when they asked for things like pay stubs and to be paid on time. And because I questioned things that he did and spoke up when asking for things we needed to do our jobs right. He doesn’t like confrontation and will bend over for the people he deems are above him. It’s fine. I believe in karma. I found out later they told the employees that he was adopted out. Nope, they killed him. Because they couldn’t care less and he would just keep bringing new dogs when he had 11 living at the kennel already not working. Yes he took 11 rooms from paying customers because he’s too lazy to work with the current dogs he has or adopt them out. I understand the dog had a bite record. I specialize in aggressive dogs. I don’t fear them. I look them in the eyes till they submit. Now this is partially due to the fact I respect their space, but I love winning a dog over. Now for legal reasons and just in case they ever see this post and try to take me to court for telling my story, I won’t be telling you where I’m from or any details of the companies. I’m too poor to be sued right now lol. I had this dream that I would open my own kennel and put him out of business. The property I want is currently for sale and the kennel is already built. I have ideas for additions to add to profit but I don’t have 3 million dollars lol. I didn’t really have anyone else to tell this to and it mortifies me that I ever supported them so I truly did need to get this out of my system. It makes me so angry what they’ve done. Bunch of lazy cowards. If you’ve gotten this far, thanks for reading. Also, thumper rules apply to comments: if you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all. And by that I mean please don’t be rude or judge me. You still only have a piece of the story and there are many more stories and details I’d like to give however I fear giving away too much will unearth who they are. Thanks again for the read.

Me (24) and my roommate of two years (24) study the same thing at university. Thats how we met. We both struggle with a few private things (money, mental health) which made our academic progress hard. We started in the same year, and when we met, we where at a similar progress state(?).
Now, I am almost finished with my degree while she is still behind.
I tried to help her with giving advice on courses or study techniques which helped me focus. She never really took those advices and did it her own way. I stopped giving those.
Once that happened, I stopped talking about university with her overall, not wanting to rub it under her nose that we are not at the same pace.
However I noticed something. She has a friend, who tries to get into university, who hasn't been in school for a few years and really struggles. She complained a bunch about her friend, even gossiped in really harsh tones how stupid she thinks she is, for thinking she can do it. I thought she probably did that to make herself feel better for not putting work into her own degree. There are similarities in the behavior her friend has and her, yet keep in mind her friend hasn't been in school for years and is used to working:

• She doesn't really study, neither plans anything nor has an overview of the degree
• she blames her not being able to study on external factors
• she self diagnosed herself with ADHD even though she is in therapy for over 3 years and could ask a professional
• she goes on multiple vacations during exam phases

A few things happened where I caught myself accidentally pointing the finger at her in a rather insensitive way:

• She talked about wanting to do an exchange year in her masters, I reacted with "You gotta finish bachelor first before thinking about that."
• She asked me how I got a good grade on a really difficult exam where she did study yet not enough so she had to cheat. I reacted with "Well...I studied." She replied with "Yea but I studied too."
• I asked her why she is going on so many vacations during exam phase and said something along the lines of "You're doing the same as your friend, who you complain about non stop."

So, am I the asshole for letting those bottled up feelings get out in a rude way?
TL;DR: My roommate and me study the same subject and started off the same time. She's lazy in my eyes, not putting in the effort, therefore further behind than me. I gave insensitive comments about it a few times.

Total budget (in local currency) and country of purchase:
€1000, Italy
Are you open to refurbs/used?
Yes but in pristine conditions and decent warranty
How would you prioritize form factor (ultrabook, 2-in-1, etc.), build quality, performance, and battery life?

1. Performance 2. Build quality 3. Form factor (ultrabook) 4. Battery life 

How important is weight and thinness to you?
Moderately important, as it needs to be portable for daily use. I like minimalist designs and don’t really like big dissipatore behind screen hinges
Do you have a preferred screen size? If indifferent, put N/A.
Between 15 and 16 inches
Are you doing any CAD/video editing/photo editing/gaming? List which programs/games you desire to run.
CPU-intensive calculations, possibly some gaming. I guess I should go for H series and not U or ultra CPUs, am I wrong?
If you’re gaming, do you have certain games you want to play? At what settings and FPS do you want?
Occasional gaming with low demands (Optional), settings and FPS not a priority
Any specific requirements such as good keyboard, reliable build quality, touch-screen, finger-print reader, optical drive or good input devices (keyboard/touchpad)?
Reliable build quality, minimalistic design, no preference for touch-screen, would appreciate fingerprint reader
Leave any finishing thoughts here that you may feel are necessary and beneficial to the discussion.
I prefer a laptop with expandable RAM (16 GB if expandable, 32 GB if soldered) and at least a 500 GB SSD. I’m open to both Intel and AMD options but need a CPU that can handle intensive tasks. My focus is on performance and quality without flashy gaming cheap led designs. Thank you!

The martial arts which I have the most experience in is Wrestling, Bjj, Judo, and then Sambo. For striking, Muay Thai, kick boxing, boxing in that order. I've done these for a few years, not equally though, so I did striking for one year, but then transitioned to grappling more, and I do striking now and again. I'm well acquainted with the culture of all of these with the exception of boxing due to mainly training at an mma gym and not a boxing club. From all of these arts, the worst culture I experienced was in Bjj and no other art comes close. After Bjj, I don't really have any negative views on the culture of any martial art, and by culture, I mean the broader community aspect, not individual clubs or methods, and so while boxing gyms may make you do a ton of cardio, I think that's more about training methods and the effectiveness of those can be questioned as part of another discussion.
Here are some of my observations:
Hierarchy
While Judo also has a hierachy and it is part and parcel of Judo culture, it is rooted in Japanese culture, and so there's an emphasis on honour, respecting your teacher, and taking care of your partner. This is a remnant of the culture in which it came from, and the only real effect of it is in bowing, lining up in belt order, and not doing things like putting your belt on the floor. While some clubs may have a traditional culture in Judo, the sports clubs keep the honour system and emphasis on hierachy to a minimum, at least in the West. So while there is a hierarchy, you'll never see things like mocking lower belts, but instead they are encouraged and are included in the club as equals, you won't see instructors saying you're doing 5th Kyu moves and so on.
I can't say the same for Bjj, the hierachy is present in Bjj, and yet there are additional elements which make it toxic. Seeing higher belts making jokes about white belts and saying "that's such a white belt move" is very common, calling anything ineffective as a lower belt move is common, and anything that's negative is called "white belt". Then there's also the social media aspect where the instructors share memes mocking white belts or making generalisations about other belts such as purple belts skipping warm ups or brown belts being overweight.
I think this is uncouth and undignified since these are people who have decided to take part in a martial art, and instead of them being made to feel included and valued, they're basically worthless until they've proven themselves to be in it for the long run which is usually when they're grades to blue belt, and then they're given respect. There is a bit of this in boxing where the coach will pay no attention to the beginners unless they show up for a few months and then the coach will say these are serious people and then pay attention. However, this is almost a self fulfilling prophecy in the sense that, the coach pays no attention, the beginners leave due to not receiving attention, the coach then says these weren't serious people and deserves no attention, however had they received attention, perhaps they would have stayed.
The hierachy is generally in the form of how different belts are perceived, and the respect they are given. Sambo and Wrestling doesn't have ranks but there's no mockery of amateus of beginners either. I'm not talking about your instructor, team mates etc making a off handed comment, I'm sure that happens in every art but Bjj alone makes a big deal of saying things like white belts do xyz, blue belts quit, and so on.
Sexual jokes/gay jokes/mocking your own art
You have a ton of "gay jokes", I'm not the sort of person who is offended by this, not just because I'm not gay but also because some of these comments in other areas are part of banter, albeit it's outdated and some people may not like it. What I find weird is when you're doing this to your own art, it's pretty dumb and insecure. It's a sort of insecurity masked by jokes rather than tackling it head on. If we take wrestling, then the things which make Bjj sexual apply more to wrestling and yet in wrestling, there's no degrading your own art and trying to "recognise the absurdity".
The angle I'm coming from is not, "that's homophobic" but rather, you're so insecure that you're mocking your own hobby and art rather than defending it. I get that in the U.S some people may make jokes about wrestling being gay etc, but where I'm from, Pehlwani (wrestling) is highly respected and you'd never see any comment like that, albeit the culture doesn't give room for sexual jokes, but even then, it's given respect. Bjj has a huge emphasis on respect within the community enforced through the hierachy, but to others, they openly mock their own hobby. It's quite difficult for me to place my finger on what I find particularly problematic but it's almost as if these people don't have the guts to challenge perceptions and to distance themselves from it being seen as sexual which would no doubt increase participants, but instead they're playing in on it. While the example is not good, what comes to mind is pole dancing. No doubt there is a sexual element to it, but it's also an art, and there's a lot of push back on it being seen as sexual, but there's no push back in Bjj. People like Craig Jones openly encourage others to recognise the absurdity and to play in on it. No doubt this will put many people off, especially women.
Hazing
When I got my belts in Judo, I did the grading, bowed, got my belt, and then bowed again. That was it. In Bjj, this doesn't happen, there's a sort of "frat culture" where getting a belt is an opportunity for a bit of hazing where you get whipped by everyone or there's a shark tank where you roll with everyone. The latter isn't degrading or harmful, but I find it odd that it's a thing to be hazed when being graded. Why exactly? Shouldn't this be a moment of celebration rather than a punishment masquerading as comradery?
instructor worship
There is this element in Judo too, but the Judokas don't really use their position as a Sensei to act like philosophers and nor do they act like they deserve special treatment for being a black belt. I'm sure this exists in some places, but not in the West from what I've seen. In Bjj, not only do the instructors want a special form of respect, they use this position to insert themselves as specialists in all other areas.
Right wing culture
My Judo club is mostly left wing, my Bjj club is mostly right wing. The latter is full of racism, bigotry, conspiracy theories, and bigotry.
Bjj does seem to attract the right wing crowd in a way that Judo does not do, perhaps it's due to Judo being more "proper" and an Olympic art, but I find it odd how out of all the arts I do, Bjj has a horrible right wing culture. While the people in the Judo club are left wing, they do not seem vocal about their beliefs and are generally not trying to make associations between being left wing and being a Judoka, whereas the Bjj guys are very vocal about being anti-vax, and they're constantly trying to associate doing Bjj with being right wing by linking it with being tough and manly and contrasting it with being weak and "liberal". This also exists in wrestling where I'm from albeit it's more mixed so you have some left wing people too, but in my Bjj club, I'd say 99% are right wing, and the people I've spoke to who are left wing are maybe around 5 or 6.
I get that all these elements will be present in every other martial art, Bjj is not unique in this and nor are other martial arts free from toxicity. These elements exist in those martial arts too, but I feel that this seems to be very common in Bjj and the extent to which it exists in Bjj surpasses the extent to which it exists in other martial arts.
Edit: Spelling errors, rewording some stuff.

I truly don’t know where to start. I have been physically and emotionally abused by my family. I have gotten beat up so many times by my parents. Today is like any other day. I got hit by mother for no particular reason. She is the type that will find a horrible reason of yourself to beat you up. Today as soon as I woke up late I was getting harassed by her as how much of failure I am because of how I am 24 years old and don’t have a job and not providing for them. And compares me to everyone and how everyone around me are doing much better in my age. I took her words and stood silent, she bashed me to do house chores so I did what she told me to try to avoid any problems. As soon as I finished she caught me in my phone and asking me why I havnt done other chores she never mentioned. I told her I will do it and she shouldn’t be loud. She started getting mad saying I don’t care about the cleaning I’m just tired of seeing you not having a job and not being like any other girls. So she started hitting me so hard in my back and she hit my head and pulled my hair and I was trying to hard to defend myself didn’t know how to before I can get worse beaten. So I pushed her and she over exgratted to the worse limit that i have hurt her. so she held both my arms with her nails to the point my skin dermis is torn as of someone stabed me she brusied my fingers as she hit me with a stick. hit my head enermouze times. sometimes. i question myself as why was i born to a cruel mother. i have accepeted so many abuse from them. i cant move out until im married. i have no one to rely on. im just trying ti make it throught the day each time but the world turns to hell snd i wish if i can just die snd rest peacefully then being stuck like this forever. i dont know how to ask for help. im never good enough for them and im really tired . i dont know what i should do. im getting hurt by my own blood. why did good bring me to cruel parents. im just so tired , nobody will ever help me . i have no shoulder to cry on . i hsve nobody. i just wish i can just rest peacefully but i dont want be sucudel snd her hurt myzelf more. im wroting this while im crying . sorry fot the missseplling. i hope u sll understsnd my story as i write this with tears

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Anglestan
Augustus 5, 1923
Facility 9, Mancheston
Colonel Jacobs
His hands flew through the folders General Jorgenson and Colonel Thatcher had. There were dozens of them, stacked upon each other all filed in alphabetical order. It had only been a few days since he had woken up from his coma and visited his home— now his mother’s grave. He clenched his fists at the thought. The grief and rage threatened to bubble and spill over once again. He took a deep breath and dragged out the exhale, almost to the point where he had emptied out his lungs.
He was the only one with clearance, and so he couldn’t disclose any of what he learned with his team. They would simply have to trust him and his judgment. Which he was sure they would do. His hands went over one of the folders skimming through it. There were multiple secret projects, but the ones with the most notes were Project S.T.A.R, Project L.U.N.A.R.I, Project R.E.V.I.V.E, Project D.A.W.N, and Project T.E.M.P.L.A.R.
The colonel decided to start with the most notes and papers. Project D.A.W.N.
He skimmed through the notes, reading through some of the details and highlighted words. Project D.A.W.N, the espionage project Thatcher had started placed two spies in Verlin who were to report directly to a Crescent general named Sienna Moretti who was apparently on humanity’s side.
So I was right. There was an espionage element. With the recent attacks and Thatcher’s death, however, it’s safe to assume that it had somehow failed. Either they got found out or they betrayed us. Both seem very likely, but if they were found out, it would be possible that they had died.
He read through all of it before setting the folder down. There were no new notes recently. He sighed and assumed that Project DAWN was a failure. Whether or not the agents were still alive and well, it was too risky to check if they had been compromised. It was better to assume that they had been and cut all contact. The only way to find out now was to go there himself and check. I can’t contact them again. There’s no telling if it would still be Moretti or the agents who would see my messages. It’s a big risk, and judging by the state of things, best to assume it failed.
He picked up another folder. This one had the label ‘under development’ on the folder. Project Templar. He opened the folder and was instantly met with a blueprint and drawings of a massive bipedal machine. It looked humanoid with strange proportions and was supposed to be standing at an impressive 30 meters, or 100 feet. The Titanic Engine Mech for Personal Land Assault and Reconnaissance.
It was apparently a joint project with the Church of Sol, utilizing new and advanced technologies he hadn’t heard of. A 203mm Gatling cannon on one arm, while the other had three different weapons. A massive firestarter that utilized a new type of fuel mixture that could theoretically spew flames a kilometer away using a high-pressure nozzle. The fuel was ignited using an electrical spark. The second weapon was a high-powered light weapon that fired a single powerful beam of focused light that was even further amplified by layers of focusing lenses that could increase its output several times. Its third weapon was… a dust domina?
Mark read through the specifications of the so-called ‘sand cannon’ weapon. It was a massive cannon that accelerated tiny particles several times. Each particle was to be electrically charged, and it would travel at immense speeds. Near impossible speeds. The resulting impact of a microscopic particle at such speeds would be enough to form a small crater and punch through armor like it was nothing. This weapon would fire multiple at the same time, which could literally eat away at anything on the opposing end.
In terms of secondary weapons, the titan had two missile launch chambers in front of its shoulder each containing about 40 missiles, and two massive howitzer cannons on top of it. Both are 800mm in caliber. It had massive stumpy legs that served as bunkers for a small platoon on each leg. Each leg had machine dominas and 155mm cannons. Its chassis held two nuclear reactors inside providing for its power and weaponry. Its armor was the thickest and most ridiculous he’d ever read. Two meters of heavy steel armor.
How far are we in terms of technology? This thing looks like it came out of an H.G. Wells sci-fi novel. He thought, shaking his head. It was over the top, but there was no denying its combat capabilities. If it was already under-developed then it must be the first prototype. This has already been approved. Guess I better see it for myself later and check how it's coming along. Construction apparently started just a few months before the invasion.
Next was project L.U.N.A.R.I. It was a project involving Six. “Huh,” he said, continuing to read on.
The Light Undone: Nocturnal’s Adaptive Resistance Initiative. As he read further, his eyes widened. The reason why Six was so special wasn’t just because of her immunity to all strigoi weaknesses, but because of her impressive ability to turn any true born strigoi like her. She could transfer her strain like any other strigoi and transform them into a version of hers. It however only seemed to work for naturally born strigoi. The new species of ‘half-breeds’ were called ‘Blessed Children’ as Thatcher had coined in the folder.
The plan was to turn all willing true-born hemolite strigoi into these blessed children. Able to withstand the sun. Immune to silver. Free from the dependency on blood. They could remove all the weaknesses of the strigoi and after the war— make it possible to integrate them into society as normal citizens living on the surface. The project folder also made mentions of a city-wide draft in Dante and highlighted the possibility of turning all Dantenite true born strigoi into these blessed children and renaming them as ‘Lunari’. A mix of the dark and the light. The light of Sol reflected in the children of the night.
“Thatcher, what the fuck have you been up to…” Mark whispered to himself.
While it was true that it could help in the war effort by utilizing Six and the dantenite population, it would also invite some unforeseen problems and consequences. Would humanity be okay with the Lunari? Would the world even be ready for them? Strigoi who were immune to the sun. They wouldn’t be impossible to kill, but they would be immensely more powerful if we were to take away their inherent weaknesses. This is a gamble. Its gain would only be seen during the war period, but its unintended effects on society could be catastrophic.
He frowned, setting the folder down. It was obviously Thatcher’s main plan; seeing as all her moves could be traced to the path of the eventual completion of this project. It seemed dangerous in the long run, but the duskwalkers and dantenites had been monumental in the war effort. Maybe it was the time the world started to accept them more. Isolation and segregation was definitely not the way to disperse fears and foster understanding.
If Thatcher thinks this is the next step forward… then I’ll put my faith in her plans.
Next up was Project S.T.A.R, or the Superior Tech and Adaptive Resistance. An upgrade to the current hemolite weapons and gear by using new researched studies. The Starfire Pattern Domina. The SFD-23 This thing features a new loading system and magazine, ditching the rotating cylinder most domina used, or the rotating helix magazine design of the current hemolite standard BM-16 domina.
The new domina had its magazine like a box… a strange design but it was certainly easier to handle than the bulky cylinders the helical mags used. In terms of ergonomics, it was smoother and fit more. Its placement however was on top of the domina, just above the barrel. Most of the weapon were to be made of lightweight polymers and the barrel itself were to be crafted out of reinforced aluminium. In addition to that, it had a 10-inch bayonet attached to it.
There were other new things as well, such as the composition of the bullet. Looking at the conceptual cross-section designs, Mark read through its description and how it would function. A .308 cased telescoped bullet covered in a silver jacket with break-away petals surrounding the main body. Inside the jacket was a penetrator core that was to be made of depleted uranium. It had a small amount of incendiary compound and… powdered white phosphorus behind an explosive compound. The thin silver jacket would deform and trigger the explosive compound inside the body. It would blow up causing massive internal damage and release the incendiary materials into the body with the flecks of powdered white phosphorus. The penetrator core could still potentially keep going and hit a second target, or punch through heavily armored targets.
Part of the new Project S.T.A.R was overhauling the armor and gear of not just the Hemolites but the Hunters as well. Starfire Mk 1. Carapace Armor. Carapace? It looked like plates of steel covered in a rubberized coat. It was supposed to be slipped on over the original hemolite body armor. It added a spring-loaded wrist blade to the gauntlet, a thicker coat made of resistant materials, and added extra padding for the knees, shoulders, and elbows.
However, the hemolites weren’t the only ones mentioned in the folder. It was to serve the Hunters as well. “Hunters…” Mark said. “August’s group is part of this initiative too.” He flipped through some of the pages. There were blueprints and drawings of an armored suit. A mechanized suit even smaller and more compact than the jotunn units. The Mark 1 STR battlesuit. It was supposed to hug the wearer’s frame and increase their overall power. It was supposed to be built of titanium alloy and a heavy steel frame with composite armor. It had a cooling system, life support systems that could recycle bodily fluids, and an exoskeleton frame that could increase the wearer’s strength and speed.
However, the real eye-opener was Thatcher’s notes. She had been ranting about the new human evolution, and how the Hunters were the first of the ‘Solari’. She wanted to enhance human genetics and push past the peak of human ability to reach greater heights. Implants and restructuring of the anatomy to make it more efficient. Using the blood of the goddess herself. She must have lost it. These are the ramblings of a lunatic. At least… if she didn’t mention the goddess. Why was the goddess important here?
The writings ended with the words: “See Project R.E.V.I.V.E, for more details.”
Mark eyed the final folder. His hands shook as he reached out to take it. Flipping it open, his hands nearly dropped it in shock. The goddess Helena was alive. There were pictures of her naked form floating in a giant tube of fluid. There were more of Thatcher’s ramblings and excited rants about the possibilities of such a discovery. Resurrection, Enhancement, and Veneration: Implementation of Visionary Evolution.
The goddess is alive?! According to the file, she’s currently under the Cathedral of New Lundun. Not only that, but the file also detailed the extraterrestrial tech that lay beneath the cathedral. So the goddess is real and she’s— not really a goddess, but rather, a vampyr who created herself a human body to stand in the sun, and decided that it wants to be on humanity’s side… what the fuck.
Mark’s frown and confusion only increased as he read on. Thatcher’s notes seemed to nearly descend into madness as she had written about creating ‘the first hundred’, alluding to the 100 members of the Hunters division. Her plan was to revive the goddess, and with her help and expertise in genetics— use her DNA to transform the Hunters into demi-humans. Super soldiers. Literal children of the goddess Helena. They would then don the STR battlesuits, the first of the superhuman warriors to defend humanity. Solari.
Their lightning-speed advancement into technology was heralded by studying the alien tech, which deepened the understanding of physics and engineering. Nuclear technologies, chemical warfare, new material sciences, the mechs, and walkers, it was spearheaded by trying to reverse-engineer technology centuries ahead of our own… for the past hundred years. It wasn’t completely stolen, however. More or less borrowed ideas that had been made into our own with our own designs and implements. Still, the speed at which the Church and the military had deciphered such advancements all by themselves was… impressive to say the least.
Still, the fact that the goddess was alive, and could be brought back was big news. Checking the file for details, he found that the previous general, Jorgenson, had already approved this project. It was their next step as soon as they returned from New Amsterdam; which never happened.
If Helena was alive, then she could end this war swiftly, or at the very least help greatly like she once did during the War of Darkness. Having the goddess back would throw a massive wrench in the Crescent’s plans. It would certainly be something they wouldn’t expect. Not even I expected this, since many sources say that the goddess had already ascended to watch over humanity, while conspiracy theorists claim she had died in battle and that the Church was worshiping a corpse. This could be the trick up our sleeves that no one would even consider.
The colonel quickly got up from his seat and gathered the main files he had read. He placed them in a bag and rushed outside of his office in Facility 9. He went over to a nearby room and flicked the lights on. “We need to go,” he said. In an instant seven hemolite soldiers got up from whatever they were doing and instantly stood in line.
“Sir! Whatever you need of us, sir,” the group said in unison.
They were Hemo-1. His former squad members. He had taken up Louis' suggestion that they be his personal security detail. It was a shame that he had basically placed the best hemolite team out of commission, but after all he had been through he convinced himself that he could be just a little selfish. He didn’t want to lose any more friends. Not on his watch. Not while he was in an office, and they were out fighting.
“We’re going to New Lundun. Better pack up, it’s going to be a long night.”
“Mark,” Olivia said.
Jacobs turned to her direction and gave her a nod.
“Colonel, sir, may I ask where in New Lundun?”
“Liv, you don’t need to do that with me. Please. I give all of you special permission,” the colonel groaned. “It’s so weird. I mean, ‘captain’ was bad enough, but now you’re acting like I’m an authority figure.”
“You… are, though,” Emma shrugged.
“I’m your friend, and Liv I’m literally your partner. Unless you have some kind of weird fetish, save it for later.”
Olivia grinned, shaking her head. “Duly noted!” she chirped.
“That’s better,” Mark chuckled. “Now come on, we have a cathedral to visit.”
“Uhh, I’m not sure if you noticed, but we’re kinda… strigoi?!” Louis groaned. “I’d burn the moment I step in that place! Plus, it’s coated in silver! Anything I even touch will give me burns!”
“Oh come on, Lou. You have fucking gloves on. As long as you’re not a clumsy dumbass you’ll be fine… oh wait.’
“Uh huh, just sayin’ what I think, boss.”
The group headed out and Mark said something on his radio. He then sat on the ground, making his joints pop. The rest of the squad shrugged and followed his example, sitting down on the grass and waiting for… nothing. Charles and Zach looked at each other in confusion. “Uh, sir?” they asked. “Aren’t we supposed to be heading out and traveling right now?”
“Oh yeah, we’re just waiting.”
“Foooor…?”
The colonel gave them a smirk as a loud noise began to make itself known. A hummingbird transport appeared out of the distance and stopped right above them, slowly descending into the grass. “Being colonel has its perks,” Mark said with a smile. He stood up and hopped inside the hummingbird as soon as it landed. “Come on now! We’ve got work to do! Last one aboard buys everyone food later!”
Emma zipped in before Mark could even finish his sentence, followed by Olivia, Phineas, Charles, Zach, and then Louis, who sadly took too long to process what the colonel said, and lagged behind.
“Aw, man! Fuck this shit.”
“Rules are rules, Lou. Prepare your wallet later.” Mark grinned.
With a smile, the colonel pulled Olivia to his side, who blushed for a moment before shaking her head. “Take us up! New Lundun Cathedral! How long would it take?” he asked the pilot.
“About an hour and a half!” The pilot replied. “Less if you want to get there as soon as possible!”
“Take your time! The night’s still young.”
The hummingbird started to lift up, taking them into the air. The group settled down in their seats and watched outside the open. Mark opened up a bag inside the hummingbird and took out some ear muffs built for a strigoi. Extremely loud noises were damaging for a strigoi’s enhanced hearing, so the military started implementing ear muffs for them after complaints from early deployments of the hemolite squads.
The trip didn’t take too long. In only an hour and twenty minutes they had arrived at the safe zone of New Lundun, heading straight for the cathedral. The night mass had just ended and people were leaving the cathedral. “Looks like we made it in perfect time!” Mark smiled. They hovered for a few minutes in the air before eventually landing down right in front of the statue of Helena.
As soon as they landed, the colonel and his group left the hummingbird. Mark instructed the pilot to wait for them. He went straight for the cathedral with his group following behind. He entered inside, clearing his throat. “Hello?”
“Well this is surely unexpected,” an old man said, walking up to greet them.
“Great Grandfather Aurelius. It’s uh, an honor.”
“Please. The honor is mine… I see you’re the new colonel. Yes, I’ve heard the news,” he said. “Would you mind telling me your name, young man? As well as your companions, if they feel so. I usually don’t allow duskwalkers here but, I have nothing against them. I’ll make an exception for your group.”
“Thank you, Great Grandfather,” Mark replied. “I am Colonel Mark Jacobs. These are my friends and security detail. Olivia, Zach, Phineas, Charles, Emma, and Louis.”
“I see, and what brings you here?”
“Since Thatcher’s demise, I was given access to her research and project folders upon taking up the title. I’ve learned about what’s under your cathedral,” Mark cleared his throat. “Would it be alright if we could see it? I’d like to check it for myself. Of course, under your permission and guidance, Great Grandfather.”
The church head looked from Mark to his companions. He pulled a slight frown and hummed. “Do these companions of yours have the clearance? Surely, we wish to keep our secrets hidden,” he said. Mark nodded.
“They do not have clearance to know what is in Thatcher’s folders and her findings,” the colonel nodded. “However, I give them permission to accompany me, and should they discover things for themselves, then you have my word and my trust that I can keep them from spilling state secrets.”
The Great Grandfather gave a short pause before ultimately relenting. “Very well,” he let out a sigh. “Follow me.”
Aurelius walked behind the altar and pulled the same lever, which opened the same staircase leading underground, where Jorgenson and Thatcher had once gone. “Over here, colonel,” he said. “I do not know you completely yet, but this is a big deal of trust I am giving you. Perhaps you would be the one to do things that Thatcher could not have.”
Mark nodded, he and his group followed the Great Grandfather down the staircase. It led down to a massive underground facility, with numerous priests, researchers, and scientists. Libraries, records, instruments, and artifacts of old. It was a treasure trove of learning.
“So,” Aurelius cleared his throat. “What would you like to know about?”
“This isn’t all of it,” Mark said. “Thatcher mentioned a living, breathing, Helena.”
His group behind him let out a soft gasp, but they tried their best to hide their surprise.
“Hm,” the Great Grandfather nodded. “Perceptive young man aren’t you? Very well.”
They were then led into another room, behind a set of heavy blast doors. If the whole group were trying to hide their surprise then, now they could barely contain it. Even the colonel stared awestruck at the things he had seen. Despite the near-magical objects around them, the true shock was the massive starship at the end of the hallway. “It’s impressive isn’t it?” Aurelius said. “All of the goddess’ artifacts and items at our disposal, to use and learn from, to integrate into our own. This is why Anglestan is the most powerful nation in the UHT in terms of development. When it comes to industry, however, that would go to the UNA. But we share our secrets with them. All our advancements are handed to them first before any other nation.”
“This is all amazing, Great Grandfather,” Mark replied. “But this is not what I’m here for.”
“No, it’s not.” Aurelius nodded.
He led them to another room, one that was sterilized and sported advanced machinery. Things that Mark had never even seen. There were screens with luminous green texts that appeared in front of it. Large panels with numerous keys, levers, and dials. Graphs of all sorts and beeping monitors. In the center, was the very thing he had come all this way to confirm. A large cylinder filled with liquid, sporting tubes and pipes connecting to its base. Inside was a woman of large proportion. Four arms, two legs, and six wings. In her bare chest was a symbol of the sun that seemed to glow dimly.
“There she is, there’s you goddess.”
Neither Mark nor his group spoke a word. He walked up to it, eyeing the woman inside. It really is her. Down to the last details. Golden hair, six limbs, six folded wings, and she looks massive. Probably as big as her statue just outside the cathedral. This is it. The very goddess in the history books, the one spoken about in legends and the one worshiped in the Churches of Sol.
“Can we free her?” he said.
The Great Grandfather nearly choked on his spit upon hearing those words. “Free her?! That could kill her! We don’t even understand this technology, let alone control it!” he said pointing at the panels. “The machines you see here are the best and most advanced we have based on what we can reverse engineer, but even then, the consequences of tampering with its functions may be disastrous!”
“I understand, Great Grandfather,” Mark said. “But we are in a dire situation, and the goddess may be our hope of turning this around. Whatever secrets of her tech that you don’t understand, wouldn’t she be able to teach us directly? What good is she floating around in Sol knows what?”
“That is her miraculous healing fluid. She had already built this contraption centuries ago in case anything were to happen to her, that her body’s natural healing could not sustain,” Aurelius said. “During the War of Darkness, Helena was struck with a weapon so deadly, her very cells began to tear away. The Reaper. Dealt to her by Absolem the progenitor. Her flesh was peeling from her body, and she began to decay whilst she still breathed. She entered this contraption and gave strict instructions to the Great Grandfather at the time, not to interrupt the healing process. The machine that monitored her, however, began to fail over time.”
“So this… these screens and panels…”
“Is only what functions we can understand. We took it upon ourselves to rebuild and study it the best we could. What we have right now is only a cheap imitation of a technology we do not fully comprehend,” he said. “It took us decades to even figure out the fundamentals and create a working prototype of this machine. By some miracle, the goddess’ healing process had remained even while we replaced components of technology ahead of ours.”
“But you know how to free her, don’t you?”
“I… yes.”
“Great Grandfather Aurelius,” Mark began. “We can end this war. Imagine what we could do with the goddess fighting on our side. We could advance even further, we could finally end the bloodshed, and we can show humanity that there is still hope. Imagine how people all over the world would feel seeing as their goddess has returned.”
“I wish I had your enthusiasm,” Aurelius said. “But it is simply too risky. The Church’s duty is to protect Helena and her legacy. We keep her alive, literally and figuratively. She nearly died the last time she was involved in a war. Would you risk losing the goddess?”
“Would you risk humanity losing?”
The Great Grandfather fell silent, looking back at Helena floating inside the tube, then to the panels that controlled it. He frowned and let out a long sigh. “The goddess said that we should not interrupt it. That it would end as soon as it was finished. Maybe we should trust her words.”
Mark shook his head. “I don’t spot a single blemish on the goddess. Not a single scratch,” he argued. “You said it yourself that the machine had begun to fail and you replaced components. How would you know that the thing that’s supposed to wake her up was not tampered with? Think about it. What you may think is a useless piece may be integral to the whole machine. Or maybe your replacements were not up to the task. Just because nothing’s happened doesn’t mean its functions have remained whole.”
“Young man, we simply cannot gamble with the goddess’ life here.”
“Have you no faith? Great Grandfather?”
Aurelius stepped back in shock. Mark’s companions looked at each other, clearly surprised as well. “Mark… I don’t think we should keep arguing with—” Olivia tried to say.
“No,” the colonel said firmly, cutting her off. “Great Grandfather Aurelius, do you think that Helena will not be able to pull through if we wake her? How long has it been? A century? How much longer will we wait? She may be immortal but humans aren’t.”
“I'm sorry, but the chances of failure are too high. The probability of her—”
“I don’t care about the probability! Would you rather put your faith in a statistic?!” Mark raised his voice. “I lost my mother to this war! My friends! My job! My eye, and almost my life! I’ve put mine on the line out there! You don’t know what it’s like out there! Was my mother’s death just a probability too? Was she just a statistic to you?! That as long as the numbers are good, no matter how many are lost, we are ‘winning’?!”
“Mark—!”
“No, Liv! He needs to know what’s really going on out there!” he spat. “Great Grandfather, with all due respect, but you don’t have a damn clue what it’s like to be in the field. You’re a man of faith, aren’t you? Take a risk. Everyone else has.”
Aurelius stood there, dumbfounded. He bit the inside of his cheeks and clenched his fists. “For your insolence, I would have had you flogged and stripped of your rank,” he glared at the young colonel. However, his features slowly softened, letting out a soft sigh. “But I have never seen such conviction. Mighty is your faith.”
The Great Grandfather moved over to the panels and reached into his robe, pulling out from around his neck a key with the symbol of the sun. He inserted it into the machine and turned. A beep sounded, right before Aurelius pulled a lever. In an instant, the fluid inside the glass chamber began to drain out into the tubes under it. Slowly, the chamber emptied and all that was left was the nude form of the goddess sitting in the glass.
“Did it work?” Louis asked, stepping forward and looking at the woman.
Aurelius stayed silent, his hands shaking in anticipation. Mark moved toward the glass chamber, when suddenly, the glass opened up like a door, releasing a fragrant mist. They stood there, watching for a whole minute. Nothing. At first nothing. The Great Grandfather looked like he was about to break down. His knees shook as he covered his mouth, thinking that he was responsible for the death of Helena.
That was when… a soft sound was heard. Movement. Olivia immediately went over to Mark and stood in front of him. Ready to protect him should anything happen. Slowly, the goddess moved more, her arms inched to the side.
Then, her eyes opened.

Please don’t comment unless u read the whole thing. I am a huge overthinker and have relationship anxiety, but I also think I can be a better spouse. I am newly married. I will admit me and my husband had a lot of unhealthy toxic fights in the past. Now that we are married, I’m starting to worry because we argue a lot. And I will admit I have not been the best to deal with and I feel really bad about how much I’ve stressed him due to my lack of awareness and difficulty to control my emotions and stubbornness. I am taking a step back and trying to be more aware of our arguments. I’m trying to be understanding when he feels tired and trying to let things go more. Stopped bothering him about an issue we had and accepted “no” as an answer and just “hid” my feelings about the subject. Not in an unhealthy way, I told him I will be upset and disappointed about things but I will not make it a big deal everytime. I care about how he feels about me so I started journaling my days since our first month has been rough. I just need to understand what exactly is considered “unhealthy” or “toxic” relationship . Im just concerned because it seems like we argue everyday, but i think it depends on the definition of “argue”. I would say we argue everyday if the definition means just any kind of arguing or bickering.
Now we have regular bickering where we get annoyed at each other but that’s not really serious it’s just like “I told you to put the towel there can you please to that” or just discussing how we feel. Sometimes voices get raised but no screaming (unless it’s an emergency like if they were doing something dangerous) and no name calling but might unintentionally say or do something rude without realizing it was rude. Or sometimes minor arguments but we move on within 10 minutes or an hour max sometimes I may be bothered at something he does and I feel annoyed at him until we have time o talk it out.
Sometimes we have arguments may feel “big” just because I am sensitive. For example, I’ll get sad because he was too tired to spend time with me or he may come off as harsh or rude without realizing so I show how I’m sad and if he’s in a good mood he’ll be understanding and be sweet but sometimes becomes mean instead of comforting me which causes me to cry and leave him alone. He usually apologizes for this same day or next day when he has time to focus on me and isn’t rushed. I do wanna try and solve this by explaining how he can be firm but kind at the same time. And I’m trying better to understand that he just needs space sometimes and just try to handle my sensitive emotions.
^ ^ ^so those may happen a lot, honestly even everyday because I feel like that’s normal bickering, small arguments, being sensitive as a woman. I would assume that is normal.
Now for the more serious kind of “arguments”
Sometimes the argument can be a bit mean and we may say things we regret but really quickly we apologize again within the hour. we don’t stay angry for days or anything. no actual name calling, but hurtful things. However I’m trying to be extremely aware of this and having up avoid it. Intentionally hurting the other person is something I will avoid. For example, “you disgust me because of how selfish you are” or “you’re an embarrassment of a man/woman” impulsively but apologize fast
^ ^ ^ this is something we will avoid but I feel that it could happen maybe a few times a month but wouldn’t last more than a day. Especially when one of us is stressed.
As far as MAJOR arguments (like screaming, completely disrespectful, name calling) major arguments that have a massive impact, this is something I’m trying to avoid at all costs. If it happens it would be extremely rare. We have had these before, but I’m being extremely aware to avoid this.
I know from the outside this seems horrible but I’m just being realistic. We LOVE each other. We care about each other and we are kind to each other. We have a lot of good times and moments we enjoy each others company and I would say since I started journaling the last 3 days we definitely have more good times than arguments especially with me being more aware. I said something mean due to his attitude, but apologized after 5 minutes whereas the old me would have stayed mad or gotten more angry. And last night he upset me because he was in a hurry and didn’t kiss me before he left and was acting a bit rude because he was in a rush so it made me sad until he came back after work to apologize. Obviously harmless bickers here and there. But the rest of the time we’re great and happy with each other. I’m going to continue journaling
The reason I’m worried is because we have had a lot of toxicity in the past due to long distance and this being both of our first relationship. Both of us have been very toxic. I just wanna try and help us have a relatively healthy relationship and I think this can be achieved because we both love each other and can communicate better now that we live with each other and because I am willing to be more aware and am trying to be less stubborn and more patient.
Should I be concerned or does it seem like we can make this work? Again, I am a huge overthinker so please bear with me. I’m journaling because it helps me piece together what to improve because we can definitely improve on something’s

I’m looking for a game that was on a multi-game NES cartridge (200+ etc) that I had when I was a kid in the mid 90s. This game was a real title and I have found it again before, but can’t remember what it was called again.
Setting: The game is a player vs. CPU karate fighting match, and I believe it was like a tournament where the opponents progressively got harder. I don’t remember if it was written in English or Japanese. But definitely had a Japanese feel to the game. U Graphics: The game has very Basic graphics and the fighters are small on the screen.
Controls / how to play: If I remember correctly the controls are very unique but simple and probably the biggest indicator of which game this is.

• if I remember correctly white or black symbols(circles?) would appear high or low in between the fighters(up/down on dpad?)
• I’m pretty sure the color meant to press block or attack(A/B?)
• I think you would have a short amount of time to press the correct combination? -If I remember this correctly after getting a bunch correct in a row(blocking/attacking high/low) you would get a power up and then a (star?) would activate instead of the white/back symbol, allowing you to do a special move. I think it was a jumping spin kick that would do lots of damage to your opponent (by pressing select?). When you did this there was a loud whooosh noise.

Any help would be greatly appreciated!

This place is a message... and part of a system of messages... pay attention to it!
Sending this message was important to us. We considered ourselves to be a powerful culture.
This place is not a place of honor... no highly esteemed deed is commemorated here... nothing valued is here.
What is here was dangerous and repulsive to us. This message is a warning about danger.
The danger is in a particular location... it increases towards a center... the center of danger is here... of a particular size and shape, and below us.
The danger is still present, in your time, as it was in ours.
The danger is to the body, and it can kill.
The form of the danger is an emanation of energy.
The danger is unleashed only if you substantially disturb this place physically. This place is best shunned and left uninhabited.

[Original source] [Wikipedia]
The above is from a 1993 study on how to warn people in the distant future about the dangers posed by a nuclear waste repository. This message needs to be communicated to people who stumble upon the site, and it needs to be done so non-verbally. As nuclear waste stays dangerous for tens of thousands of years, there will eventually be people who come upon the site who will not share a language with us. They will not share symbols with us. They will not share a culture with us. Yet they will be humans, and we are obligated to protect them.
I came upon this specific ... it's not quite a poem, but that's what Chelsea Weber-Smith of the podcast American Hysteria called it in her most recent episode, which I had the joy to listen to earlier this week. It's about the borderline-bonkers field of study (and one of my occasional obsessions) called nuclear semiotics, which analyzes this problem.
Coincidentally, I started my second playthrough of Tears of the Kingdom the day after listening to this story. As I descended the staircase, through the gloom, past the murals and to G-Do himself, I couldn't help but think... the ancient Hylians/Zonai had a similar problem to our civilization. There is a danger underground that must be contained, and people must be warned. It's interesting how some of the strategies they employ to convey this message are mirrored in the thoughts of nuclear semioticians, and how in other ways went against the most basic ideas of this field. In the end, did they fail? (Yes, the answer is yes) Will we fail to protect our own future people? (yes, but for different reasons)
Worth saying, they had it easy compared to us:

1. We know nothing of the people of 10,000 years from now. They literally had a princess from this future culture at their disposal.
2. All human languages currently in existence will be unintelligible to the people of 12024, more so than how Proto-Indo-European (spoken only ~6k years ago) is unintelligible to us today. Ancient Hylian, on the other hand, is basically Middle English.

They tried many strategies that nuclear semioticians have considered, some implemented better than others, with varying levels of success:

1. An "atomic priesthood", namely the Sheikah and the Royal Family. This is a group of people who are dedicated to the mission of preserving information about the threat across millennia, in the same way religious movements dating to the Iron Age and Classical Antiquity have managed to preserve the teachings of their founders into the present. We know Sheikah tech is seen in the imprisoning chamber, and the royal family pass down the story of the Imprisoning War. Unfortunately, this "priesthood" over the millennia proved small and unstable. Depending on how you place TotK in the timeline, the Sheikah and the royal line were nearly wiped out several times, reduced at one point to kindergarten teacher and a pre-teen pirate captain. Even if the movement survived, the message of "do not go below the castle" was eventually forgotten.
2. Physical monuments. There are three general threads of thought. One is to create some kind of frightening, ominous landscape that communicates "this is a bad place," like a forest of jagged concrete spikes. Another thread, as Weber-Smith put it, thinks that's some very American absurdity, and the best thing is to just hide it somewhere unimportant. Dig a hole in the Arctic, drop it in. Another (more interesting) idea is to make it the center of attention. Build a nuclear-themed amusement park, a nuclear temple, something people will tell stories of and preserve. No one wants to drill for oil on the Acropolis. The Hylians went and built a magnificent castle and their capitol city. It's not clear this helped since the original message was eventually lost.
3. Written and artistic representations of the message. Nuclear semioticians seem to think this is a challenge. Many proposals that do include written messages would start with it being in multiple languages, with broad, general terms are the periphery of the site (Bad! Malo!), getting more specific as you approach the center (plutonium 1.4km down). There's art, like this, which might not work, as we can't guarantee symbols like ☢️ or skulls will mean the same thing to future people. The Hylians/Zonai just... well they didn't think about any of this.
   1. They appear to have communicated the specifics primarily in writing, and in a single written language: Zonai, a system so obtuse that not even the Internet can crack it. Correct me if I am wrong, but we see no Gerudo hieroglyphs, no Sheikah characters, no other text in the game in any other language warning about what is under the castle. Almost none of this text is near the castle. Much of it is in the goddamn sky. There is text immediately adjacent to the Imprisoning Chamber, on and around statues of Zonai. Zelda just takes pictures and keeps walking.
      1. (I am trying to find a source, and I cannot, but I remember tales of a warning in the castle itself, a very nondescript stela that's like "don't go under the castle." I don't remember what language it is in, but in any case it's not exactly in a prominent place)
   2. The statues closest to the source of the danger are Zonai, a race completely forgotten. They are not in a position warning people off. They just stand there, arms at their sides, conveying nothing.
   3. Of course, a discussion of art would be incomplete without talking about the murals... they're a bit too close to the problem. G-Do is literally in the next room. If he was nuclear waste, you're already losing all your hair. The murals are only understandable by people with specific knowledge of the Royal Family's lore. They do not depict useful information (eg. he's literally in the next room), only a legend. And the structure of the space it was in was so poorly constructed that literally the most important bits were obscured by rubble.
4. Finally, there is the physical barrier between the environment and the threat. You bury it in concrete, deep underground, somewhere without a lot of rainfall and earthquakes. The last thing that needs to happen is a bit of groundwater to start carrying plutonium into a well. You don't just leave this stuff in a ditch (unless you do). And yet... there is apparently a staircase directly to G-Do. He keeps spitting out calamities. People are getting sick from the emanation of energy/gloom...

I am not sure I have a point exactly. The lore nerds will rightfully point out that containment failed at exactly the moment it was meant to: ie. when Zelda came upon it and closed the time loop. True fact. I'm just stirring these tropes together. The ancient Hylians/Zonai tried to communicate a danger and how to deal with it to people in their distant future, ultimately showing us a bunch of ways that this did not work.
Us in the real world will have nuclear semioticians have better ideas. Most of this stuff is sitting the parking lots of nuclear power plants as we argue about where to put it. Hopefully we put it underground with good signage before we have our own calamity.

I’m looking for advice. I (25F) am the leaseholder of my 2-bedroom apartment, and I am on the lookout for someone to fill my open second bedroom. Roommates I meet from Facebook usually have a bad track record, and I tend to think until all the right questions have been asked and that they are gonna be as nice as they seem… until that’s not the case. I end up realizing where I went wrong on some occasions: my last roommate I let in had no experience living away from home and family (20-21F), and she showed herself as being very immature on several occasions and also had some diagnosed mental disorders that she took medication for but did not regularly keep in touch with a therapist, so I saw things escalating worse and her taking such personal approaches to things I would ask (such as the kitchen being cleaned after she gets done, my stuff being taken care of, sustainable approaches for utilities, etc.), which led to me having to give her the notice to move (without leaving her high and dry… I gave her a list of places to look which was way more help than I had when I first started). When I first saw a Facebook post of hers in a group, she said she was moving for work, so I made the mistake of assuming she was older than she was, and she was actually moving and getting a job down here to be close to her boyfriend she met on an app and had been seeing for less than a year. So I saw more red flags being raised the more I found out, and she was rude to our neighbors on occasion (who I’ve never had beef with), and her boyfriend was always over when she was off work (and always left messes, which she chuckled at as if it was “cute”), but I was waiting it out to see where I needed to put my foot down. Another one of my roommates through Facebook was during my senior year of college, which she stayed up downing liquor with her friends all night and constantly kept me up, so the lesson learned there was to ask how much drinking and partying they do. That was also a place where I was not there first, so I ultimately accepted that I just needed to wait it out until I could find somewhere else. I never have more than two of anything when I’m having drinks, and I’m pretty much past the stage of the party scene being appealing to me. I don’t smoke, I don’t stay up super late (and I have epilepsy, so sleep deprivation is super triggering and borderline deadly for me anyway if I’m kept up).
All of this to ask: in my new search, in my pursuits, what questions do I ask? And how would I know they’d tell me the truth? I admit that I am on the pickier side when it comes to my things being taken care of. I was raised with the mindset of being mindful of how to take care of the things you work hard for, so I am particular about the way the dishes are washed so that nothing gets ruined or cracked, straightening up the common spaces after you’ve been in them, using good cleaning supplies when cleaning the house. My dishes also cost a lot of money, and I have plates and glassware on the fragile side (so while they’re dishwasher safe, they can’t be crowded together in there and I especially am a hard charger about rinsing off the dishes before loading them… and some of my stuff is strictly handwash only). I used to get made fun of for it and was even gaslit into thinking I had OCD, so in wanting to know my mind and how I worked, I went to get a psych evaluation, and I’m in the clear of any mental disorders. I’m very organized as well, and I’ve worked in restaurants and event venues where you really practice keeping things as neat as possible even when you’re super busy and it feels like you have 5 things to do at once. I was also raised in keeping a neat house (by a single mom who worked 2 jobs and took care of her parents living on the other side of town, so nobody was busier than she was), so I carried over an especially appreciative and mindful mindset from those years, and I’m diligent about the high standards I set because they are not without reason.

I am NOT the Original Poster. That is u/SisterGroundedThrway She posted in AmItheAsshole
Mood Spoiler: hopeful ending
Original Post: April 29, 2024
I (25F) live in a three bedroom apartment with my fiancé (27M). We have a six month old son.
My younger sister Mia (fake name; 20F) recently started attending a university that's closer to where I live than both my parents' places. Because she needs to get to class early in the morning, my fiancé and I allowed her to move into our spare bedroom. She's been living with us since January.
There's a set of rules I've been having Mia follow since she moved in, mostly to make sure everyone can live peacefully. One of the most important rules concerns arriving after my son's bedtime (usually between 19h and 20h). Mia is allowed to come home however late she wants, as long as she doesn't make too much noise.
The door to the apartment has an electronic keypad lock, and the one we use also has a normal lock under it. Everyone has a copy of the key, but we all prefer typing in the password. However, the keypad is very noisy, and my son's nursery isn't far from the door. Every time the keypad is used after I've put the baby to sleep, he wakes up.
So naturally, the rule about getting home late includes not using the keypad. Everyone, including Mia, has known about this since day one.
At first, we had no problems. But now that Mia has gotten used to college life, she's been going out at night frequently. This past month, she has arrived home after midnight every Friday and Saturday night. She always forgets the "don't make too much noise" rule, and she has, on multiple occasions, used the keypad. My son wakes up crying every. Damn. Time.
I'd sit her down and remind her of the rule whenever this happened, but she'd continue to do it. My fiancé and I got tired of putting our baby back to sleep because of that, so I changed the password and told Mia she was no longer allowed to use the keypad. She agreed, and promised to try to make less noise.
On Friday night this week, Mia went out with her friends. She came home very drunk at 4AM, and forgot that I'd changed the password. Not only did she use the keypad, she also got the password wrong so many times that she triggered an alarm.
I was furious. Not only did my baby wake up crying, but I also got complaints from my neighbors.
The next morning, I told Mia that I'm establishing a curfew: while living with me, she needs to be home by 20h. She won't be allowed to go out at night for the rest of the semester.
Mia put up a fight, saying I have no right to "ground" her (EDIT: I never used that word) like this or dictate what she does with her free time, but I held my ground. I told her she'll be free to do as she pleases when she has her own place and raises her own family. While living with mine, she has to do as I say.
She told our parents about this. Our mother and stepfather are both on my side; our father is on Mia's. He's saying I'm not her mother, and I have no right to treat her like a child. He also thinks it's unfair to do this to her over a drunken mistake.
AITA?
EDIT: No, I can't mute the keypad.
Relevant Comments:
OOP clarifies:

She is living here for free, but only for now. The deal is for her to start paying a small portion of rent once she gets a job.

Commenter: What if she never gets a job or takes months? What if she gets a job but doesn't tell you because she prefers freeloading?

OOP: If the latter happens, I will find out. She tells our mother everything, and my mom would tell me. I know my family.
But honestly, I don't need her to pay me right now. My father still gives her some money for personal expenses, so I'm not spending too much on her.

Commenter: I'm having genuine trouble how unlocking multiple locks and jangling keys into a door is quieter than a keypad (excluding the alarm) and also wouldn't wake the baby up.

OOP: It's only one lock. It's not noiseless, but it's quiet enough that it doesn't wake the baby.
The keypad makes very loud noises every time something is typed in, as well as another one once the door is open.
OOP (different comment addressing how loud it is): Very. It makes noises whenever something is typed in, as well as another one once the door has been unlocked. And she's not just quietly typing in the password, she's being loud besides that (slamming the door, knocking stuff over, etc.).

Commenter: I believe some electronic locks have a silent function. At least my alarm system's keypad does. Although I'm not so sure. I don't have electronic doorlocks, which is why I asked the question in the first place.

OOP: The one we use doesn't have a silent function.

Commenter: Just curious, is it possible to move your nursery to a different room that is further from the door? Not saying that you have to or anything, just wondering if it is a possibility would it help at all. You are definitely NTA though.
Also have you thought about saying she can go out later, but can't come home between 8pm and 6am? Basically she can go out, but has to crash elsewhere?

OOP: A lot of people are asking this, so let me explain why this is not an option.
Technically, it is possible. But moving my son from the nursery that I lovingly prepared while pregnant to the room my sister has been messing up since January would require time, effort and patience, none of which I'd have for this situation. I have a baby and a job, as does my fiancé, and I'm 99.9% sure my sister wouldn't help us. I'm making enough efforts as it is, and I refuse to do something like this when she can easily just use her key.
As for crashing somewhere else, I have suggested it before. There's always a reason why she can't do it.

Commenter: NTA and you've given her way more chances than I would have.
I would tell her that if she wakes the baby up one more time, she's out. I can't imagine how annoyed your husband must be that you keep letting your adult sister act like an entitled 16-year-old.

OOP: My fiancé is actually the reason I've been giving her this many chances. A big reason why I'm establishing the curfew now is because the situation has gotten bad enough that even he's sick of it.

Commenter: Well that's good that he hasn't been at his wits end as long as you. I would flip my lid if my husband let his sisters do this so I was coming at it from that perspective.

OOP: Understandable, really.
He's a younger sibling, so he tends to be more patient with her (especially now that we're all living together). He always agreed that she was being rude, but didn't want us to fight over it. Changing the password was his idea.

Commenter: Have you considered making her get the baby back to sleep? (not if she's drunk of course) Perhaps she would then understand the problem better.

OOP: The problem is that she usually is drunk, so there aren't many opportunities for her to help.

Commenter (downvoted): Yeah. And I'm not sure if women like OP understand this but babies can and should get used to people making normal sounds when living in a household. She probably is entitled and expects everyone else to cater around her baby.

OOP: I'm not sure I appreciate the "women like OP" comment there, but my son is used to normal sounds. The door beeping loudly at 4 in the morning is not a normal sound.
No, I don't expect everyone else to cater to my baby, but I do expect those sharing a space with him to let him sleep. It's not hard to use the normal key.

Commenter: The school year is probably just about done though, right? Maybe she should live with friends for next academic year.

OOP: We don't live in the US. The school year started in February.

OOP is voted NTA
Update Post: May 10, 2024
Before I start this update, I want to recommend reading my comments on my previous post. There were many questions that I was able to answer there.
It's very hard to explain my relationship with my younger sister in proper detail, but I will say that, while I love her dearly, Mia has always been a very inconsiderate person.
I have countless examples. She almost didn't attend our cousin's wedding last year because she didn't want to walk to the venue (which was two blocks away from our mom's place). We shared a bathroom when we were younger, and she'd insist on having the top drawers because she "didn't want to crouch down", but she was cool with me doing so. She slept through my college graduation, and didn't apologize for it.
I'm bringing this up now because whenever I asked Mia why she kept forgetting to use her key, her excuse was that looking through her bag took too long and the keypad was quicker. In her head, bothering other people is better than slightly inconveniencing herself.
After I established the curfew, Mia tried different ways to make me change my mind. She'd talk about not being able to cancel her tickets for Party X, or about the fun her friends had at Party Y. She'd show me her "developing" LinkedIn profile, and tell me she had learned her lesson and would be more responsible.
At first, I really didn't want to have to kick her out (which many of you suggested), but I have limits. A few days ago, I heard her complaining to her friends on the phone about her "bitch of a sister" who wouldn't let her do anything.
Later that day, I asked her which of our parents she planned on moving in with. Cue more fighting.
I managed to tell her that I had no obligation to continue housing her (for free!) if she couldn't respect my family. Mia could either move back in with our parents or continue living with me for the low price of respecting my infant son and stop complaining about it.
We did have a very productive conversation afterwards. I managed to get a lot off my chest, as did my sister. Mia apologized for everything. She admitted she'd been selfish, promised she'd make efforts to change and mature.
I'm a strong believer that people can change, which is why I'm not kicking her out right now. But I made it very clear that Mia is on thin ice, and the next time she does anything like this will be the last time she ever sees the inside of my home.
The curfew will continue until the end of the semester, as originally planned. My father also agreed to pay for Mia to go back to therapy. It helped her a lot when she was younger, so I'm hopeful about the future of this living situation.
I also want to thank those who suggested a white noise machine. My son is not a light sleeper, the keypad is just very loud and startles him awake, but my fiancé and I are still looking into getting one. Anything that helps our baby sleep better is welcome.
Thank you, Reddit!
Relevant Comments:
Commenter: The fact that she'd rather wake a sleeping infant than go through her purse is just... Selfish and lazy is too weak a descriptor for that. Also the idea that you, not her, is keeping her from doing stuff... Mind boggling!
I'm really happy that she's in therapy 'cause that shit aint normal. Did your parents never allow her to suffer any consequences for her actions as you were growing up? And/or is she incredibly stupid?

OOP: She did suffer consequences, but Mia never liked hearing the word "no", specially from me. I wouldn't even call her lazy, she just genuinely doesn't think about anyone else. If it's a minor inconvenience to her, she probably won't do it. That's why I'm so glad she's returning to therapy

Commenter: You realize that this summer will be her “hot girl era “ and she will still be her. But kudos for second chances

OOP: I live in the Southern Hemisphere. Summer starts in December, and we'll all be traveling for the holidays. But I don't think she'd want to stay with us during the Summer anyway.

Commenter: You should've kick her out that night,why are you being so nice??? That's not gonna help you or son.And lives rent free she would of been out so fast.

OOP: I'm being nice exclusively because Mia is going back to therapy, which was very helpful before she quit.
And I do believe things will get better. My sister is smart enough to understand that the extra time it would take for her to get to class if she moved back in with one of our parents is WAY more of an inconvenience than just using her key.
But this is her last chance. If she ever tries anything like this again, she's out.

Editor's note: OOP titled her the final update as her "last update," so I marked it as concluded.

I really just wanted to get this story off my chest. I sought out help with some issues before on another account and but ended up deleting it because some people decided that they were green lit to brigade me with rather unpleasant messages. Sometimes I feel truly alone now.
I guess a bit of back story to start out.
I lived in a decent rental property out in a rural area in the SE U.S. I am a male, mid-30s at the time, divorced, decent job and all around not a bad life all things considered. I had family nearby and friends who seemed to care, and there was a woman in my life that seemed like we were a pretty good match for each other. This was back in 2019 right before the big covid epidemic really ramped up.
I had no idea it was all about to end.
At 3am on a thursday night, I was awoken to a loud knock on my door. I put on some slippers and looked out the peephole. There was a police officer standing there. I hadn't done anything illegal and had no reason to fear a police run in. My first thought was that something was wrong with someone in my family. I opened the door and he asked my name. I confirmed and he grabbed hold of me and yanked me out. More officers from around the corner pinned me to the wall and cuffed me. I asked what was happening and received a punch to the head for my troubles.
I was rather stunned and horribly confused. They drug me out to where they had parked, just out of the line of sight for me to see from my door. I was tossed into the car and eventually one of them got in and finally answered my question of what was going on.
I had been charged with rape and child molestation. He didn't tell me who charged me or when, just that there was a warrant out for my arrest.
I was hauled into the county jail at that point. I had never been arrested in my life and I was terrified. I didn't have my phone and couldn't remember anyone's contact information at the time. I was processed, given my mugshot, and put in a small holding cell.
Some time later I got my first appearance and was told my charges, no bail, I was warned not to talk to the judge or I'd regret it. Just answer his questions and sit down when told,
Then they moved me to a very small padded room. There were 4 or 5 police officers I think that moved me. It's a bit hard to remember this part in detail, but I remember enough. They handed me this small cloth vest and told me to strip naked. I had no idea what they were doing and I got really scared. I didn't get asked again. They held me down, ripped my clothes off, and beat the hell out of me right there. They shoved my face against a vent in the floor that served as the toilet. One of them remarked that was where a piece of shit like me belonged and they laughed. They spit on me and left, leaving that small vest laying next to me on the cold rubber floor.
For four weeks, I curled up under that vest in the corner of the room. It was so cold and I didn't dare let that spot cool down. The pain was terrible and the nurses that had to check on me didn't care what I'd went though. I didn't have back problems before that, but now I do. Some days I wake up now and can hardly walk.
I was finally moved to general population. I figured things were finally getting better. I was sure that whatever had started happening would finally be over. I got a message from my family and was able to contact them. I reassured them I had no idea what was happening or who had filed charges or anything. I was as confused as everyone else would be.
I tried telling my mom about the abuse. An officer came back there, told me point blank that if I didn't want to get it again and worse next time, I'd better shut my mouth. It was a threat I'd rather not test out. I kept my mouth shut at that point. I learned that all calls and mail was monitored by the jail.
I asked my mom to get in touch with the woman I'd been seeing to explain things. She's already messaged my mom and told her that she wanted nothing to do with me. I guess all things considered I ended up better off, but it hurt at the time.
A few weeks later, a public attorney had been appointed and came to see me. I was finally about to find out who was behind all this. I figured this was some sort of great big misunderstanding and I'd be home soon.
It was the neighbors daughter. Someone I barely knew and only spoke to in passing. I never touched this girl and I didn't want to either. She had told her parents that I had forced open her window and raped her in the early morning hours and threatened to kill her if she told anyone.
I was 6'1 and 230lbs of pudding. I am not stealthy. There was no way I could quietly force open a trailer window and have my way with someone and keep it quiet. regardless though, that's what she claimed to her parents, and then to the police.
Why would that poor precious child lie? Very good question and I never found out the full story. I can speculate a few things on it. They did collect DNA evidence though and it had been sent off for testing.
Something to keep in mind. If you ever been in county lockup for any length of time, you know that nearly everyone claims innocence, and they don't believe other people are. I was locked into a dorm room with actual convicted child sexual predators and actual rapists. Some of whom were violent and had nothing to lose.
It wasn't pleasant and it wasn't fun. I was attacked on occasion simply for my charges.
And remember I said this was pre-covid? Yeah. They shut down the court system. They wouldn't be hearing my case for quite some time and the judge was a real hard ass that refused to set my bond. I spent the next 3 years in county lockup charged with a crime I did not commit.
3 years of my life gone.
I ended up firing my public defender and hiring a real defense attorney. the P.D. told me "things look pretty grim. If you just plea out, you can be home in about 10 years." Hell no. I borrowed the money from my family and got a real attorney. After he reviewed the case he was pretty positive I'd go home, and for a few good reasons.
Let's go to trial.
It finally happened. I got a trial date and I was ready to go. They came at me with another plea deal. The prosecutor said that I had wasted the states valuable time and they offered me 25 yrs in prison or I could lose and never see freedom. I told him to go pound sand.
At the trial, the alleged victim could not keep her story straight. She constantly backtracked and fudged the details of things like "What was he wearing?" or "Things he had said to you before." She also claimed to be a virgin and I took that from her.
I mentioned some time ago that they collected DNA. It was male, but it wasn't mine. Apparently the prosecution sat on those results until it was nearly time for trial. They knew I was innocent and let me sit in jail to entertain their plea deals.
I don't know what really happened that night, I suspect that she had sex with some guy she was seeing, They may have got into a fight and she cried rape, and then changed her mind after she'd started. She needed a rapist though and she just randomly chose a guy nearby that she didn't care anything about. Maybe she got in too deep and knew that if she backtracked she'd be in trouble.
I went home that day, found not guilty of all charges. I was thankful to be back with my family. Many of my so called friends abandoned me though. A few stuck around and those are the good ones.
My facebook arrest post had my full name and address and plenty of people wished for my death. "I'd be glad to put a bullet in him if they'd just let me" or "I know that guy. I knew there was something wrong with him the moment I met him."
I lost my home and a few things had been stolen before my family could secure it. Nothing irreplaceable I guess, but it still feels bad to of lost a few things I cared about.
In addition to severe back pain, the mental damage I got from this has been crippling. No matter how much I try, I just can't seem to get my life together. I am absolutely terrified of women as I know what just a few errant words can do. I don't think I could ever form another meaningful relationship because of those fears. I'm scared of the police as well. I fear they'll come after me again just like they did that night. They could kill me and get away with it these days.
Mostly I stay inside my moms house. Some days I'm ok. Others, I'm just so scared to go out. This isn't really a good life anymore. Counseling is somewhat helping at least.
There's no lawsuit that can be filed. The state doesn't have to answer for anything because they followed the letter of the law and the pandemic gave them emergency powers to do certain things. There's no lawsuit against the girl either as she never said it was made up. There's laws to protect her.
My life was ruined despite all charges being dropped. I honestly am not sure I can recover from this nightmare. There's plenty of details I left out, but I've talked enough as it is. I'm tired now. I expect people to call me a rapist or chomo anyways, innocent or not. For some, an accusation is enough proof for them.

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Synopsis:
Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.
Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.
Chapter 240: Private Gallery
My, how quaint.
An underground maze.
If it wasn’t dark towers laden with bats, it was underground mazes filled to the brim with all the upholstery recovered from the Summer Solstice Festival’s annual bonfire.
Here beneath a barn utilised as little more than a cellar door, black was still the new black. An unending panorama of dark embroidery and furnishings to match any budding empress’s humble beginnings, ensuring I remained busy offering all the slightly different variations of wrinkling my nose could perform.
The porcelain vases featuring motifs of the wrong season? A mild scrunch. The candelabras burning below 98% of their height instead of being immediately replaced? Hints of a sneeze. The golden silk carpets clearly stolen from the cathedrals of the Holy Church? … A nod of my head.
But what I could have no complaints about was a door still swinging upon its hinges.
Poetry in motion, it painted the picture of a baroness desperate in her haste to stumble over her dress as much as humanly possible. Excellent news. We didn’t need to break another door today.
A surprise.
After all, the baroness seemed intent on breaking everything herself.
Bwoomph.
The sound of a heavy object being dropped came crashing through.
And then another. And another.
A commotion to rival the scuffling of two rival sons at our reception hall. The cadence of chairs, small tables and then backsides falling to the ground as insults became slaps and slaps became a scene of disgrace, all the while my sisters and I watched and snacked on the walnuts.
Sadly for the baroness, I chose not to stand idly by as she roughly squirrelled away her stolen possessions. And neither did Coppelia, who rubbed her hands together in gleeful expectation.
It was still the most innocent gesture she’d ever made.
“Should we let her gather up the loot pile some more?” she asked brightly.
I shook my head at once, my nose aching from the ceaseless wrinkling.
“Absolutely not. Even a moment is too long in this burrow.”
“We could double back and ominously stamp our feet to make her go faster, too.”
“Or we could merely offer our supervision instead. Come. It’s time to end our stay in the countryside. As well as this baroness’s grand misadventure.”
Already dreaming of my bed, I lightly pushed the door open.
A moment later, I was met by the sight of an adventurer’s most wanton dream come to life.
Within the centre of a bedroom chamber, chests laden with silver and gold crowns sat waiting for the first lout to claim as hardship expenses for chasing cats in an endless circle. The chests gleamed with an organised lustre, winking in unison as though counted and arranged to the coin.
It was a sight which contrasted with the desperate movements of the baroness.
Only brief snippets of her could be seen as she went to-and-fro in another room, accessed through a parted bookcase. Through the opening, I heard hints of calamity. Heavy banging as objects crashed to the floor, joined by the sound of ragged breathing to match a servant dashing up and down my bedroom tower to fetch grapes for me in quantities of one.
“Haah … haahh … hahhh …”
And now my curiosity was kindled.
Things worth more than chests of crowns. What could she possess, I wonder?
Sweeping past the gleaming pile of silver and gold, I made my way towards the parted bookcase, and then peeked through to see our baroness performing one last act of defiance.
With her golden hair as dishevelled as her dress, she was kneeling beside an assembled pile of what were unmistakably paintings. A veritable mountain of them, all framed in gilded brass. The scent of oil, watercolours and various pigments struck me more than any whiff of alcohol I’d experienced today.
Clearly a gallery of sorts. A secondary trove of treasure, but no less valuable. Rare paintings were worth their weight in silver and gold as much as any of the coins gathered in the chamber.
And also, to my horror, much easier to destroy.
“Haah … haahhh … hahhhhh …”
The baroness didn’t even notice our presence.
So absorbed was she in her final act of petulance, her only concern was to raise her feeble arms, weakened by all the disdain it required to gather so many heavy paintings in one spot.
All to set it alight.
With a look of desperation on her face, she raised a single candle, readying to set the oil upon the canvasses ablaze.
“Noooooope~”
“–Aah?!”
The same candle which was promptly plucked from her hand by Coppelia, who required no prompting to stop the destruction of precious treasure.
The baroness jolted in shock at Coppelia’s sudden appearance behind her, and even more so at the playful smile leaning towards her. A heartbeat later, she swiped at the candle, tearing away the topmost half. But it was too late.
The flame had already been extinguished.
“Noo … nooooooooooooo!!”
The baroness cupped her hands around the top, offering a tiny breath as she hoped to ignite it like the fading embers of a hearthfire.
She failed.
I took a step into the hidden gallery, ready to offer the coup de grâce to round off this minor detour into my countryside. A final reminder to my kingdom’s nobility, that whatever their rank, none were too lowly to be ignored.
“Ohhohohohohoho … how pitiable,” I said, my hand barely covering my lips. “Instead of a vain attempt to flee, you choose mindless destruction instead. I suppose I’ve no grounds to fault on this. You were wildly successful. Only that it was your own schemes which came to ruin.”
I gazed at the crumpled heap of the baroness as she turned around.
Her grey eyes widened as she viewed me.
All of a sudden, what colour remained upon her face drained to the point where if she threw herself on her bed, she’d be invisible against the white linen. Her only method of escape remaining.
It certainly wasn’t in the gurgling she made.
“Ah … n-no … wait …”
Her voice petered out, whatever words she spoke fading like a mousy squeak in the distance.
Ugh. The standards I endured.
Despite attempting a final act of spite, she didn’t even have enough vigour left in her to transfer that into the most cursory of insults.
“Now, this right here is what separates the barony from the city nobility,” I said, well and truly exasperated. “You may despise your peers, but know that Lady Tolent and Duke Valence at least performed their roles as expected. They were rude until the end. You’ve a considerable amount to learn.”
With a sigh, I took a step towards the mound of portraits.
Given what I’d seen so far, I doubted if any painting here was worth what the baroness deemed worthy enough to hide away like a dragon’s favoured treasure. But I was open to being pleasantly surprised.
Who knows? Perhaps she’d pilfered more than carpets from the Holy Church.
However–
“Wait!!!!!”
The baroness scrambled to her feet, arms raised as she blocked my path.
Despite her sudden burst of life, no colour returned to her face. It was like a ghoul raised as a puppet, desperately heeding the command of its owner.
“You … You can’t look!” she said, quivering. “None of this … none of this is for you!”
My mouth widened at the gall.
… Why, so she did have some insult left in her!
To insinuate I wasn’t worthy of judging these paintings was far more wounding than any generic disdain she could level against my superior wealth, standing, beauty and shape of my hair!
After all, I was exceptionally confident in my curating skills!
Anything less would see my own works being met by a chorus of snivelling! Amongst all who resided in my kingdom, it wasn’t traitors who were the most fearless to my ire! It was art critics!
“E-Excuse me! Rest assured that I’m more than capable of judging the qualities of any painting! When it comes to my assessment of art, my valuation leaves no detail unturned!”
Somehow, the baroness paled even more. Her eyes quivered like ponds in a gale.
A moment later–
“You can’t!!!!”
She threw herself at me.
A slow, lumbering tackle to match her anaemic state. I stepped to the side as she hurled herself past me, falling to a heap by Renise’s feet.
The maid looked down. She didn’t wear a single hint of animosity. Only pity and sorrow. Truly, she was too kind to ever have been in the nobility. I feared for her current role.
Still, I gave a sigh, before leaning over the mountain of paintings.
“Uwah~ this is a new one.”
As the light from the doorway fell upon it, Coppelia offered a hint of what was to be expected. She wore a peculiar expression, her smile oddly fixed as she gazed down at the nearest one to face upright.
I joined her.
And then–
“Hmm.”
I blinked as I assessed it.
A moment later, I glanced over those nearby. And then those nearby them.
Not only paintings. But portraits.
All featuring the same subject. A girl with long, dark hair and vivid eyes.
Many featured a dress hinting at a summer’s day. Shafts of golden sunlight was a common theme, along with a backdrop of a pristine tea table, laden with a familiar array of confectionery. Carrot madeleines and carrot cakes. The same ones I tactically placed for everyone else to eat at my mandatory tea parties.
Indeed. That made sense.
Since this was assuredly my tea table being presented. And that girl with a pleasant smile, unblemished features, a regal bearing and warmth radiating from her very presence was me.
I dug inside the mountain of portraits, lifting up another at random.
Yes.
It was me. Again.
In fact–
Every single portrait in this heap was of me.
At least a hundred or more. All framed and recently placed upon the walls of a hidden room. A private gallery to a baroness–one who was a keen painter. A corner had been transformed into a small workshop. Unlike the one found in her tavern, this one was far more organised. Easels and brushes were neatly tidied away, cared for as much as the paintings that had been created here.
“Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!”
Ignoring the cry of despair behind me, I gazed at the heap of paintings, hand against my cheek as I considered the sight.
A short hum was all I required.
I turned to the stricken baroness upon the floor, her mouth wide as she waited for my judgement.
And then–
“Oho …”
I began to laugh.
“Ohoho … ohhohohoho …”
But this was no mocking laugh which spilled from my lips.
No … it was a laugh of pure delight.
“Ohhhohohoohhohohoohhohohoo!!”
True, nothing here was fit to be placed upon the Royal Villa’s walls. But few paintings were. This didn’t mean they were without merit. On the contrary, even a surface level impression of my face was worth more crowns than even a mosaic of the Grand Duchess completed by a thousand master painters.
But while better artists than her had painted me, few had painted more.
And this I could use.
Why … with this many paintings, I could fill up Soap Island with my imagery!
I could ensure that every tunnel possessed my permanent smile and watching eyes!
No matter where the soap miners hid, seeking respite from their days of hard labour and repentance, they could be met by the sight of my angelic face reminding them that I know and judge their every moment of unsupervised rest!
How … How wonderful!!!!
“A 7/10,” I declared. “Individually, they range between passable and acceptable. Except this one. There is something wrong with the nose. But when taken as an entire collection, the overall composition is greater than the sum of its parts. Alone, each is a verse describing a princess forced to adhere to her mandatory tea parties even as summer blooms a window away. But together, it is the sonata of a princess who continues in her duties without care to repetition or fatigue, reminding those whose hands falter when they should be mining soap that I do not rest, and so neither will they. Not an overly complex message, but then I wouldn’t wish it to be lost.”
Thus, I clapped my hands together in satisfaction.
“... Indeed, I shall put these portraits to excellent use!”
I waited for the gasp of relief which usually came with any of my scores which didn’t plunge into negative numbers. The baroness would not be destroyed by the world of fine art. Only ignored. The baseline criticism. She’d survive.
Providing, of course, that she ever woke from her stupor.
Looking down, I was appalled to see all the light had vacated her eyes.
Far from offering her gratitude, she lay collapsed in an untidy heap upon the floor, her body prone and motionless, her expression locked in morbid embarrassment, and with no signs of life other than the trail of drool which began to leak from the edge of her lips.
“Wow~” said Coppelia, leaning down to poke her cheeks. “You managed to kill her with just the laugh.”
I was appalled.
If this was the reaction to my satisfaction, I may as well be disappointed! That was always easier!
“C-Coppelia! I didn’t kill her! … Why, anyone who dies looking so slovenly would come back to life just to fix themselves!”
Also kneeling beside the fallen baroness, Renise gently shook the girl’s shoulder. Only a weak gurgling came out, wishing for an eternal night.
After a moment, Renise sent a slightly pained smile towards me.
“Um, by any chance … do you not have any thoughts regarding seeing so many portraits of yourself?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well … do you not find it odd?”
I looked at her in puzzlement.
“... No? Why would that be odd? Isn’t it natural that people would wish to paint me? I’m a princess. And an excellent one, too. Better me than a fruit bowl, surely.”
Renise blinked … just before raising her hand to her lips in a small giggle.
“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
Words which advanced her on my family’s career ladder exponentially. I nodded profusely.
Mreoow.
At least until an unexpected sound filled the air.
I looked around in puzzlement.
“... Did I hear a cat?”
“Mmh~” Coppelia pointed towards the faux-vault door we’d passed. “More than one. There’s a whole bunch being kept nearby. It smells terrible.”
I threw up my arms in exasperation.
Why, no wonder the baroness sought the bliss of unconsciousness! It was to evade my utter disbelief!
The absolute state of my kingdom’s schemers!
First Trierport! Now Hartzwiese! To think it was an epidemic!
Just what were these people doing?! Truly, it’s one thing to undermine my kingdom. But that was a pale crime compared to their feat of singlehandedly fuelling the existence of the Adventurer’s Guild!
“It must be Tantrum and Peppy,” said Renise, far less aggrieved. “As well as all the others.”
I directed my bewilderment towards her instead.
“What is a … Tantrum and a Peppy?”
“They’re the names of the deputy guildmaster’s cats. The ones she was looking for. We should ensure they’re rescued before the night is done.”
I shook my head rapidly. No, no, no, no.
“I am not rescuing cats.”
“Hm? … Why not? Isn’t that the job of adventurers?”
“No, that’s the job of drunkards who mistake the commissions plastered on walls for requests to save a kidnapped princess. Besides, cats hardly need rescuing. Whatever bonds they find themselves in, they’re more than capable of slipping free by their own endless guile.”
Indeed, our only danger was that we tripped over a lazing cat hidden in the shade!
It’s a wonder they hadn’t escaped already. By the time we were done, I fully expected to see cats causing anarchy as they reclaimed the town, mewing from rooftop and windowsill with barely held contempt for the very people who fed them!
… Why, they should be ashamed!
“I see …” said Renise, with a hum of uncertainty. “Well, I suppose they’re known for their self-sufficiency. But even so, I feel that we shouldn’t leave them in the chance that their artfulness fails. There’s a very dangerous forest between here and the town.”
Coppelia clapped her hands together.
Her interest in the baroness severed, she leaned towards her next source of amusement, her smile alive with all the usual colours of the mischief rainbow.
“That’s right~ cats are pretty smart, right? There’s no way they’ll be caught by the slobbering horrors devoid of mercy and compassion which I kept from eating us.”
“Coppelia, you frightened them away with sticks.”
“Exactly. Sticks thrown using opposable thumbs which cats lack. And that means they know where they are on the food tree. They’re gonna stay here where it’s safe, waiting for the dumb humans to come fetch them like they always do, even though cats do nothing but hiss and scratch at them.”
I gave a cautious nod … all the while leaning further away.
“Yes, well, I’m glad you agree. We’ve no need to lift a finger to rescue them.”
“Mmh~ but even so, aren’t you willingly leaving gold on the table?”
“Excuse me?”
“I bet every cat has a poster somewhere up in the Adventurer’s Guild. That’s a whole bunch of change you’re leaving lying around that could be used for our apple strudel budget.”
I was aghast.
Not only at the suggestion our funds went entirely towards the apple strudels she ate before I could even touch them … but also because I knew exactly what Coppelia was doing!
My keen eyes could see through her deep subterfuge!
True, it was only prudent to ensure our personal finances were as secure as possible … but even so!
I had my pride!
In my darkest dreams, I still recalled the shame of rescuing a warehouse of cats in Trierport! There was no scenario in which I’d willingly suffer such humiliation again! Once my dignity was stripped, what was I, but a beautiful maiden without equal?
Indeed, I had no doubt in my mind!
I, Juliette Contzen, 3rd Princess to the Kingdom of Tirea, would absolutely not resort to saving lost cats!
“The Adventurer’s Guild will never be happier,” said Coppelia brightly. “I bet that in less than a day, a literal army of adventurers will be swooping in to claim all the free cats for themselves. They’ll be everywhere. Literally everywhere. Productivity will be at its highest. You’ll be actively supporting the livelihoods of all those guys you see drinking themselves into a coma!”
Renise blinked, then looked at me with an expression filled with new warmth.
“Oh, I see! You intend to leave these cats behind to be collected by new adventurers. That’s very thoughtful of you. I understand now. This must be how high-ranked adventurers help their juniors progress and gain confidence in their skills.”
Renise filled the ensuing silence with her smile.
And then–
She slowly waved a hand in front of my face.
“... Miss Coppelia, why isn’t she responding?”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. Her cogs get stuck every now and again.”
“I see … ? Should we do something or … ?”
“Mmh~ I’ll scoop up the striped ones! You get the normal ones!”
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Introduction: The Mysterious Double Album
I’ll always remember 2 AM on April 19th 2024. I was in my pjs, alone, on my balcony, fresh off my first listen to Taylor Swift’s album The Tortured Poet’s Department. After sufficiently enjoying my solitary experience, I took to the internet to see what the masses were saying…when Swift dropped a whole second album: The Tortured Poets Department Anthology. Swift, a master of both Easter egging surprises for her fandom and practicing the number one rule of business (give the people what they want!), had been hinting at something “double” for months. Most significantly, while accepting her Grammy for Best Pop Vocal Album, she flashed a “peace sign.” That damn peace sign haunted the fandom for months. Swift’s corporate social media account, u/TaylorNation, used peace sign emojis and called attention to the number two whenever possible (ie teasing the album 22 days out etc.). There were also many “2”s present in in the promotional “experiences” leading up to the album release date—including statues of peace signs at the TTPD interactive experience at The Grove in LA. As usual, some Swifties went bonkers with their theories (or “clowning” as outlandish theorizing is referred to in the community). I myself couldn’t help but believe some concept of doubling would be significant in TTPD, but I couldn’t have guessed a full DOUBLE album (Swift’s capitalization). What an absolute treat. Mother was, as they say, mothering.
…Only the two mania didn’t seem to end post-drop. If anything, the two mania heightened. The albums were not just surprises in themselves, they were full of mystery. They seemed to reference multiple relationships, cryptic narratives, allusions to Swift’s previous songs, allusions to iconic poets, and very often, twins. The sleuthing type of Swiftie (full disclosure, moi) dove in deep. We gathered where we do—on Twitter, on TikTok, on Reddit (my preferred sandlot). And as we obsessed over every lyric, literary allusion, and video clip, Swift, our self-appointed “chairman” seemed to encourage us. Swift added a TTPD set to her Eras tour in Paris. Afterward, she posted a collection of photos to Instagram. The second photo of the post is Swift onstage, in a sparkling showman’s outfit, flashing two fingers.
Initial Tortured Poets and Sylvia Plath Connections
Swift has always been an incredible poet, but that’s not necessarily how the world saw hesees her. Swift is a pop star, specifically, Swift was a young girly pop star, most known for her tabloid romances and dramas, which she would (allegedly) write about in her music. Swift’s work has been labeled as “confessional” since her first album, which included songs she openly said were about boys at her high school. I offer this context (or, lore) to explain why I began seeing connections to TTPD in Sylvia Plath’s “confessional” work.
Of course, the theme of TTPD is tortured poets, so many avid literary Swifties have enjoyed seeking connections between Swift’s new songs and iconic poetry. No connections are overt, but some seem to be more likely than others. Namely, there’s been much discussion of Virginia Woolf thanks to the song “Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?”(perhaps a riff on the Edward Albee play title). Other Swifties have found possible lyrical links to Mary Shelley and Charlotte Bronte. Swift herself references Patti Smith and Dylan Thomas in the album’s title track.
I remembered a third poet in relation to Smith and Thomas: Sylvia Plath, obviously an all timer of a tortured poet. I remember hearing an anecdote that she had been obsessed with Thomas and stalked him outside the Chelsea Hotel (also named in the TTPD title track). I did a quick skim of Plath’s Wikipedia to confirm and then started noticing many possible connections to TTPD and Plath’s life.
In the “Fortnight” music video, Swift acts out being institutionalized for insanity and getting electric shock treatment—two significant experiences in Plath’s life. Plath was also coupled with a deeply problematic man, Ted Hughes. Plath fell in love with Hughes for his artistic talent before he revealed himself to be an unsupportive parter, ultimately cheating on Plath with a younger woman. The narrative is not too dissimilar to the narrative about Swift’s alleged ex Matty Healy, as seemingly told in TTPD. (Of course, we don’t know the true subjects of Swift’s songs—if they’re even actually confessional—but some key hints point to Healy. Whether those hints provide actual context to Swift’s life or to the story Swift is telling of her life, one cannot know.) Finally, several of TTPD songs reference a latent desire for suicide (“I might as well die / it would make no difference” etc.). Okay, post-“finally,” these are stretches, but, I’ll note anyway: one of Plath’s most famous collections of poems is titled Ariel, but an alternate title was Daddy. There are connections to both words in TTPD via the song “But Daddy I Love Him.” The title is a line from the Disney movie The Little Mermaid (which features the main character Ariel, a mermaid, caught between two worlds). Extra clowning: some people (hi, I'm people) believe Swift’s 1989 costume for her first Paris concert was an allusion to Ariel: a pink crop top and a seafoam skirt.
As I dug into Plath's life, I couldn’t help but also see similarities to Swift's life. Both women were prolific writers from a very young age. Also, although possibly obscured through artistic license, both women were/are known to write about their own lives. (Plath was apparently encouraged by her professors Robert Lowell and Anne Sexton to write from her experience. I cannot help but tie in Swift’s “The Manuscript” lyric “the Professor said to write what you know.”) Both Plath and Swift expressed/express their depression via their writing, but if you only knew them from their public personas, you’d never guess the depths of their struggles. It seems both Plath and Swift lived/live double lives. Plath was actually fascinated by the concept of doubles. In fact, the concept of doubling was the topic of Plath’s college thesis paper “The Magic Mirror.”
The Magic Mirror and TTPD
Plath’s college paper is sadly not available to the general public. (It had a limited print run in, you guessed it, 1989.) But! I was able to read a few texts about the thesis, and the amount of possible TTPD references is astounding.
Since we can’t directly analyze Swift’s work via Plath’s directly, I’d like to share several key quotes from the most telling article I could find about the “The Magic Mirror”: “Sylvia Plath’s Magic Mirror” by Kelly Coyne (May 2018, The Los Angeles Review of Books). (To be noted, Coyne has also written about Swift, in her article “Growing Up In Taylor Swift’s America” in December 2023 on Literary Hub—a fabulous read!)
Early in her article, Coyne sets the scene for Plath's thesis:
“Her undergraduate thesis, which she wrote as a senior at Smith College...is titled “The Magic Mirror: A Study of the Double in Two of Dostoevsky’s Novels.” “The Magic Mirror” explores literary doubles made up of a character’s repressed traits, and, as the double grows in power, it heralds the protagonist’s death. Citing Robert Louis Stevenson’s The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde as well as Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray, Plath argued that the choice to create a double works to “reveal hitherto concealed character traits in a radical manner” and simultaneously exposes the driving conflicts of the novel housing that character. Her thesis claims that both Ivan, of The Brothers Karamazov, and Golyadkin, of The Double, have attempted to repress troubling aspects of their personalities, resulting in the double.”
Immediately, I imagine the two versions of Swift from the “Anti-Hero” music video. One Swift is real, true, sensible. The other is a pot-stirring, self-esteem destroying, alcoholic. During Eras, the huge Swift (monster on a hill) screams and stomps around in the background while the real, true Swift smiles and dances in a sparkle dress onstage. The fandom seems to be referring to these two Swifts as Taylor Swift and TAYLOR SWIFT (TM). Folks have theorized Post-Malone in the Fortnight music video is not necessarily a lover, but a twin, or double, of Swift. This theory is enhances by the Eras visuals during that song, specifically two dancers walking away to the back of the stage, but then becoming one.
More Coyne: “Plath, quoting Dostoyevsky in her thesis, noted that Ivan’s double, Smerdyakov, is “wrinkled” and “yellow.” The distinct differences in appearance between originator and double, she continued, are meant to reflect the protagonist’s mental state and cultural status.”
First of all, yellow. In the Gaylor community, folks have often theorized yellow symbolizes being closeted—a reading based on the symbolic coloring in the 1999 film …But I’m a Cheerleader. However, one need not be a Gaylor to consider the importance of yellow to Swift’s storytelling. Most recently, Swift performed “my tears ricochet” at Eras in a bright yellow dress, as her dancers were dressed for a funeral. Following Coyne’s analysis of Plath's analysis of Dostoyevsky, one could guess Swift is teasing a death of some version of herself.
Coyne discusses how Plath clearly used a “double” of herself to write The Bell Jar. Plath herself spent a summer in New York interning for Mademoiselle. The protagonist in TBJ, Esther, spends a summer in New York interning at a magazine too. To go even further down the rabbit hole, Esther also doubles herself, frequently expressing normalcy on the outside and despair on the inside. On the book's first page, Esther tells her audience, “I was supposed to be having the time of my life.” (Again, I cannot help but hear a Swift echo of, “I can read your mind / she’s having the time of her life” from “I Can Do It With a Broken Heart” about smiling through her depression.) Coyne makes many more references to mirrors and concealing in The Bell Jar, Ether’s split (and sadness) gets worse and worse the more she hides who she is from others. Notably, at a low point, Esther hides under her mother’s bed. (And Swift sings of a post-heartbreak depression, “Afterwards she only ate kids' cereal / And couldn't sleep unless it was in her mother's bed.”)
Coyne writes about the “imprisoned” aspect of doubles: “The wound from which Esther tries, and fails, to hide chimes with the inescapable, colonizing double, and Plath’s language again illustrates its penal nature: it is inside Esther, but it traps her like a jail cell.” (Again, I cannot help but see references to “Fresh Out the Slammer”, “The Smaller Man Who Ever Lived,” and the TTPD Eras visuals of cages and cell lighting.)
Coyne, on Plath’s doubles’ names, something Swift has not ever used (or so we think): “From her conception of The Bell Jar all the way to its final revisions, Plath suffered an exhausting amount of anxiety over its heroine’s name.” Plath wrote to a friend, “‘I’ll have to publish it under a pseudonym, if I ever get it accepted, because it’s so chock full of real people I’d be sued to death’...Indeed, this wasn’t mere paranoia; she did have to change her protagonist’s name at the instruction of her editor for legal reasons.”
Coyne continues, “Most novelists likely have concerns about being associated with the characters to whom they give life, especially the ugly ones, and especially when the character resembles its author. Yet what is unique about Plath’s case is her knowledge of the theoretical underpinnings and implications of her choice to push Esther away, and the hold this knowledge assumed on Plath’s work and life. Another look at The Bell Jar with a consideration of Esther as Plath’s double tangles the issue even further, and Plath drops clues for this kind of reading throughout the novel. Esther, for example, sits down to write her own novel and recounts, “My heroine would be myself, only in disguise. She would be called Elaine. Elaine. I counted the letters on my fingers. There were six letters in Esther, too. It seemed a lucky thing.” Not coincidentally, Plath’s first name has six letters as well.” Again, Plath was in a bizarre double infinity loop (like the loop on the Eras stage in “Down Bad”?). Plath was concealing her double, the protagonist in her novel, who was concealing her double, the protagonist in her novel.
Coyne wraps up her findings: “In her thesis, written nearly a decade earlier, as she turned 22 — the year after her first documented suicide attempt — Plath claimed, quoting Otto Rank:
In such situations, where the Double symbolizes the evil or repressed elements in man’s nature, the apparition of the Double “becomes a persecution by it, the repressed material returns in the form of that which represses.” Man’s instinct to avoid or ignore the unpleasant aspects of his character turns into an active terror when he is faced by his Double, which resurrects those very parts of his personality which he sought to escape. The confrontation of the Double in these instances usually results in a duel which ends in insanity or death for the original hero.”
Coyne seems to argue Plath believed an artist's double has the power to become bigger than the artist herself, ultimately killing her. Is TTPD Swift's predetermination of, hopefully, her her double's death instead of her own?
In Conclusion: Plath to her Mentor, Dessner on Swift
Who knows what TTPD is really truly about, and who knows if we ever will.
The biggest Easter egg, hiding in plain sight, is that the album is titled THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT. There’s no apostrophe after “poet.” Nor is there an apostrophe after the “s” in “poets.” The department does not belong to a poet or to a collection of poets. It is a department OF tortured poets, perhaps two, to be exact. …or perhaps the album indicates the departure of the tortured poet...and her double.
I’ll sign off with two final quotes from my research:
According to Coyne, three months before Plath died by suicide, she had written a mentor about her second (obviously unfinished) book. Plath wrote, “It is to be called “Doubletake”, meaning that the second look you take at something reveals a deeper, double meaning […] it is semi-autobiographical about a wife whose husband turns out to be a deserter and philanderer although she had thought he was wonderful & perfect.”
According to Aaron Dessner’s TTPD release Instagram post: ”Keep searching and you'll find some new detail, layer or sliver of meaning with each listen.”
SUBREDDIT PS! Shout out to Expensive_Succotash5 for noting the TTPD intro poem's reference to being out of the oven, could be an allusion to Plath's death. Also shout-out to Good-Amphibian-7993 for this connection to a photo of Plath with a rose, not unlike Swift's album rose art.

As of last episode, things are even weirder. Mouse was obviously trapped by Bloody Rose or whoever is behind that. Ash was gone for a while for whatever reason.
My theory is that there is a mastermind and a pawn behind it all. Like last season, like in Riverdale given that this is a RAS show and we know his style.
Doctor Sullivan is also slightly suspicious, although I don't think she is involved with Bloody Rose. I guess she was one of the mom's therapists, most likely Davie's and she prescibed her those pills that Imogen's father talked about. Maybe we will see a flashback of younger doctor Sullivan with Davie (Nicole Fragala is almost 30, I doubt she will be playing a teenage Anne Sullivan lol).
The mastermind behind bloody Rose could either be Mrs. Langsberry or Mrs. Beasley, I think either of them used the Bloody Rose costume as a way to get back at the girls for the deaths of Chip oand Karren. Or it could be that both women are involved, acting as a team. They would also need a help, someone younger. All those red roses were found in places that would hardly be accessible to the likes of Martha or mrs. Langsberry. Someone younger. Either Ash or Jen.
I can't really find a reason for Ash, not a good one at least. As for Jen, the reason could be as simple as money. Maybe she doesn't do the killings, but she puts the roses and other potential messages. Just like Sara Harvey in the original PLL, doing the dirty work for money. I also guess it wouldn't be difficult for her to find out the girls' numbers.
The one doing the actual killings is the mastermind for sure. So either Martha Beasley or Mrs. Langsberry. There has been discussion about the importance of Bloody Rose's appearance. She wears the crown of thorns, a symbol of suffering. The bloody bandages can simply be a way to hide her identity in a specific way, using the imagery of Rose Waters as a suffering mother: skinned by her son and her daughter committing suicide.
Also Bloody Rose walks normally, lol. The weird walk was, so far, only what Imogen saw and she was in great distress. It might have simply been a hallucination or Rose was trying to scare her. But she walked normally when she was chasing Mouse.
One thing that bothers me is the lack of answer around the dead bodies. Tyler Marchand's body, from last season, was taken by Archie and never seen again. Nick and Sabrina's bodies also weren't recovered. Neither was Sandy's body. What points the finger at Martha Beasley is just how fast the church excused Sandy's absence. What is interesting is the church's focus on chastity and, so far, Bloody Rose murdering individuals that engage in sexual relations. Basically "cleansing" the town of Millwood. Reminiscent of Hal Cooper's storyline from Riverdale.
ALSO, why didn't Tabby ask Christian why did he make a BLOODY ROSE mask, she only asked about Archie's. Or was it intentional?

Ok the title is a bit dramatic but not far from the truth. Today I had an employee uncomfortably tell me that our problem child resident, who has been extremely abusive to the staff and is constantly upsetting the residents, told him that her boyfriend is coming this weekend, that he gives her the best sex of her life and that her room is "going to be rocking & rolling all weekend". A few hours later, I'm working away in my office. I was doing some accounting stuff and did not want to be interrupted but unfortunately, a situation arouse and my front desk staff came in to my office to tell me that we had a serious situation at happy hour with the problem child.
Don't want to get too specific about sole things here because I don't want to lose my job but basically this crazy resident caused a disturbance during happy hour because......you will not believe this. I am laughing over it now but at the time I was thinking "are you fcking kidding me?"......she lost her sht because residents had the nerve to dance during the living music performance (every Thursday we have a happy hour in the afternoon, with a snack, virgin and non-alcoholic cocktails and live music). The resident verbally abused the residents who were dancing and was yelling at them to move because she couldn't see the musicians. The employee running the event tried to de-escalate to no avail which is why I was called in. As I'm making my way to the front of the room this was happening in, another resident is in front of me, slowly making her way up the front and I see the problem child coming towards us. When she gets to the resident in front of me, she did something. Had she continued and gotten more aggressive, what she was doing would have turned in to a crime and I would have had no choice but to call the cops. I told the problem child not to do that to other residents and she yelled at me to shut up and then said something about "fcking bullsht" so I told her that was unacceptable behavior and she has to leave. She was going to be asked to leave regardless but now there really would be no negotiation, no attempt to come to a compromise so that she should could say and everyone else could dance. I escorted her out and headed back to my office when she turned around and let's just say she berated me, also said some kind things about how I am a great director and she adores me but then she flipped a switch and Unleashed the beast on me again. She wouldn't let me get a word in and every time I tried, she told me not to say she's being difficult. I never said anything about how she was acting, I tried to tell her that she is nothing but rude and disrespectful to the staff yet here she is going off on how stupid and rude we all are and how we do everything wrong. But I didn't even get two words out before she started going off on me again. I let her speak her piece, planning to speak mine as soon as she was done but as soon as my boss walked up and asked if she was ok, she said everything was fine and walked away LOL! (My boss was unaware of the situation and was on her way to another situation when she saw and heard the commotion in the hallway)
So apparently the resident's boyfriend is coming tomorrow and I sure do hope that her room is rockin' and rollin" all weekend. I can't say these kinds of things at work obviously haha. I am also extremely tempted to offer her the edibles I am now in possession of, after the dispensary made a mistake and gave us the wrong product we had ordered for a resident with doctors orders take THC gummies. Maybe some good old Mary Jane will lighten this b*tch up! I won't offer them to her but damn it I wish I could!!! Something has to give here. Hopefully she has all the sex she wants (needs?) this weekend and will be in a good mood for the rest of her time here. All week she was pleasant and said she loves me, said we are all wonderful and doing a great job. Was kind to everyone else and very pleasant. Today she is back to her abusive self! My poor ED is out until Monday and will have to deal with this crap once again when she returns.
I work the front desk tomorrow. Send positive vibes please. Cross your fingers that if my problem child comes to the front desk, she doesn't lose her sh*t on me again. I can handle it but my residents are getting increasingly upset over her behavior and we are doing all we can to accommodate this witch to no avail! I do not want them to witness this witch going off again. She is likely going to be evicted but that takes time.