I am not The OOP, OOP is u/Wide-Area-6779
His mistress made him a better husband. I feel nauseous.
Ongoing
Originally posted to TrueOffMyChest
Thanks to u/queenlegolas for suggesting this BoRU
TRIGGER WARNING: emotional infidelity, physical assault, verbal abuse, manipulation
Original Post Nov 22, 2023
This is a throwaway. I’m just nauseous and want to vent please let me do it here?
Everything changed about 3 years ago and my husband became my dream man. Before that, we suffered a lot in our marriage. After 2 hard pregnancies and PPD my libido was diminished and we fought all the time. After 4 years of dead bedroom we started therapy. I thought that was where the improvement came from.
My husband started paying attention to me. In the beginning I was panicking because whenever he paid me attention before he expected sex but now it felt like he was seeing me as a human being for the first time. He was attentive and caring. Emphatic. He touched and cuddled and kissed me out of the blue, without wanting sex in return. He started helping around the house, bringing me flowers, take out dinners when I work late, planning date nights. Anniversaries, birthdays and holidays are planned perfectly and I started getting the most beautiful and thoughtful gifts. When we fought, he would come the next day and admitted his wrongs and very accurately (if he was the one in the wrong) something he never did before. He would apologize too when back in the days him apologizing would be a blow to his ego. He said he was happy all the time and lucky to have us as his family. Everything was better and I even got my libido back if not as high as I hoped.
I found their conversation about 5 days ago and I have probably spent over 50 hours reading them. 3 years worth of conversation. He would tell her his woes and she would listen. 99 out of 100 times she sided with me. She taught him about intimacy and how important it is in marriages. The tragically funny part is that he never got angry or offended by her telling him off. Calling him silly, stubborn or at times man baby. Her honesty was brutal and yet he agreed with her. She was the one suggesting all the changes and he would ask her for advice about gifts, traveling and all the beautiful things he did for our family.
He thanks her all the time for helping him turn his miserable home life around, making it tolerable. With all these texts there were the texts between them that are about them like nobody else existed around them. The flirting, sextalk and pictures. The longing to see each other.
He says she is the love of his life every day and that he wishes their circumstances were different. She says the same. They both agree that divorce would ruin their families and that they couldn’t be that selfish. how admirable!
I feel nauseous. My happiness for the past three years was fake. I don’t know what to do. I want to hurt them. I want to expose them and I want to ruin whatever they think is perfect happiness
Hi!
I’m getting chat requests about my comments not being visible. Is this normal? I’m trying to answer you guys. Sorry
Hi again
Since I can’t comment and I can’t answer all the chats I will answer here
I am 35. My husband is 39 we have two children 9&7
She is 40 and she has one child 14. She is in a dead bedroom with her husband too and for 14 years.
The affair is physical too yes but they meet maybe once every month or every other month. She tells my husband that what they feel is probably limerence but that they don’t know it yet because they meet so little. She lives in another city
RELEVANT COMMENTS

So basically your cheating ex is trying to blame you for him cheating. The delusion of cheaters.
You only informed the mistress's husband that she couldn't keep her legs closed to a cold breeze.
He had a right to know. Onwards and upwards.
UpdateMe

OOP

He didn’t blame me for anything. He doesn’t care that he cheated. He was only angry that her husband hurt her and her child.
Maybe my post was this convoluted that everyone here is thinking he is trying to put the blame in me? He doesn’t care at all. He just thought that I should have confronted him instead because he was the one who cheated on me.
I told everyone around us what he done and he doesn’t even care

Update - My husband left me after I told his mistress’s husband about their affair. March 19, 2024
I was here some weeks ago, with my original post. I finally decided that I really should reach out to the husband of my husband’s mistress. I found him easily and I contacted him. He didn’t believe me at first and was rude about it and told me to go f myself. I hesitated to contact him again to be honest but after a few days I realized that I would too not believe a stranger just popping in my dms accusing my SO of cheating so I recorded my husband’s phone with my phone. Especially the messages where she’s sent explicit photos and stuff. I also went to the contact to show the number. He didn’t answer me the first day then he called me the c-word and blocked me. I thought well then, I have done my part and it’s on him if he believed me or not. Then after a week my husband came home angry and he yelled at me for exposing them. He asked me why I didn’t confront him instead, my problem was with him. I have never seen him yell like this then he packed a bag and left for about a week. I think he’s traveled to her.
When he got home he said that it was over. He said that he has been trying to make me happy for years and he’s done everything a good husband would do but still, nothing was good enough for me. I’ve made him miserable for years and instead of taking it out on him, I chose to hurt a woman and her child. He moved to his parents house and now he’s renting an apartment I have heard that he travels the weeks he doesn’t have the children to be with her and that she’s moving here soon when she gets full custody of her child.
I have not been feeling well at all. He has never spoken to me directly since he left and I haven’t seen him. He adamantly refuses to talk to me. Like I never existed in his life. I don’t know what I have done to deserve this treatment. I hate that they won.
RELEVANT COMMENTS
List-and-dumbfound

The last 3 years of your marriage were a lie. You know that now. Who he is the person he treated you before his affair partner had to convince him to be good to you. He is not a good person.
Do they even really know each other? Like how it is to be around each other on a daily basis. They are genuinely dumb to think the list will stay with 3 kids around plus handling chores and day to day things of life. They have 2 custody battles ahead of them and divorced on top of it.
If he’s angry with you the next time you have to see him, ask him why? He got what he wanted. He wanted to be with her and now he is. So why is he angry that you gave him what you wanted.
It’s probably shame that he’s painted to be a cheater. Not he can’t manipulate the narrative and paint you as the bad person.
If what they won is each other? Let them have each other. They are both awful people so they deserve each other

OOP

He is not angry about the divorce. He is angry I told the husband instead of him because the husband hurt her and her kid

DrNefariousMcFarious

He’s not angry bc of that, he always assumed that if you found out he could gaslight you into thinking that it was somehow your fault or not happening, but by you telling the other husband, there was no getting around it.

OOP

No he is angry about me putting his AP in danger.. he gives zero fucks about staying in our marriage or not. He only was with me to help raise the children and probably wait for her to get rid of her husband. I am not trying to he dramatic here but the soon I realize the truth the better is is for me to move on I think

I want full custody of my children after he went and beat up his mistress’s husband within an inch of his life and ended up in jail. Mar 22, 2024
This morning I got a call from my mother in law that my husband has been in jail for the past couple of days and only got out this morning but the charges weren’t dropped. Apparently his mistress and her husband had another altercation last weekend and she ended up hurt again.
Now I want full custody of my children. He is out but charges are not dropped so it will probably lead to some punishment. I don’t know if family court would count this in case I want full custody and supervised visits. My mother in law was hostile when I told her this and she’s one of the people who have supported me so I am expecting some push back. I don’t care.
RELEVANT COMMENTS
inquiryreport

You probably should not have let your MIL in on this idea. Her first reaction is going to be that it will threaten her ability to see the grand kids and her son’s ability to be a father. Even if you think she is on your team have to assume she isn’t.

OOP

Yeah it was a big mistake

NEW UPDATE

He celebrated Mother’s Day with his mistress and her son May 12, 2024
Thank you so much for staying in touch and I am so sorry that I cannot answer your dms. I haven’t been active on Reddit and I have received tens of dms every day since my posts. I have been trying to adjust to life as a single mother. It is hard and especially the weeks I don’t have my children. Unfortunately, I could not convince court to give me sole custody even with my husband’s pending legal issues due to him not having any priors. He however succeeded to limit my family’s access citing parental alienation. I am not allowed my children around my family without supervision (MIL). All of this actions are temporary however until we get a court date. He is refusing to meet or talk to me for any reason besides texting about the children.
He is not in jail (for those who are asking) he has no priors so he is out. He will probably not be getting any jail time either but rather parole. Anyway, his mistress has secretly recorded some of the abuse she was getting from her husband and she has sole custody of their child now. She has moved to our city and she and her child are living with my MIL. Yes, MIL and from what I have gathered, she lives with my husband on the days I have the children.
Today I was out with my children and my friend and her children to have mother’s day brunch. I was the happiest I been for months because I got a bouquet of flowers and chocolate that is signed from my children (worlds best mom) and I knew that it was from my husband. Anyway when we arrived to the restaurant, there he was with his mistress and her child. They were celebrating mother’s day too. Her son was sitting between them and she had gift papers and flowers all around her on the table. I froze and wanted to leave but he came and apologized and said that he didn’t mean for this. She was crying and hugging her son. I wanted to faint because my children were so excited to see him and wanted to go inside and eat brunch with their dad. He told our children that it was mommy’s day then he asked me if I wanted her to leave so the children can have lunch with both of us. I just left with the children and took them to McDonald’s instead. He sent me a long text saying how sorry he was and how he wished that he loved me as much as I deserved and that he wished me to find love soon. He doesn’t regret our marriage and hope I don’t either because we got our beautiful children out of it that we need to raise and to not punish them because of what he did. Please let us not let our resentment of each other to spill out on our children. Let us promise to keep them happy and loved. Let us not use them as pawns. I asked him what I lacked that she has. A question that have been living rent free inside my head He said to stop this. This is futile. I insisted and I called him and he answered for the first time in months. I told him I wanted to know. No matter how harsh the truth was I can’t live without knowing. He said Mothing. I lacked nothing and she is not better in any way. He just loves her and loves himself when he is with her. He feels real and genuine happiness with her that he never felt in his entire life. I hang up and he texted I am sorry. This is the truth you asked for. You are not less than. You lack nothing. Please let us give our children the good life they deserve. Don’t hurt them to hurt me
I don’t know what I have done in my previous life to deserve this. The way he was with her. He never looked at me that way not even when we first met. I don’t know how to stop thinking about them. It is in my brain all day. I want full custody of my children and I will fight for it as much as I can. She will never be their step mother. Her custody is not finalized either and hopefully she will have to move back to her city so her husband can have visitation rights and she is out of my life. If my husband wants to move to be with her. My children stay with me.
RELEVANT COMMENTS
OOP told to be careful around the husband, and asked what his mother thinks

Well I am not stupid and he can record me all he wants because I was very calm and I genuinely agree that the children come first. Even her child tbh. But I know that she only had emergency custody of hers because of the assault but I know the rules here and she will probably need to move back soon because her husband has right to meet his son. In that case my husband can move away but he can’t have custody because I want a stable home for them. I don’t know why I am getting hate in my dms calling me vindictive.
I am very grateful to you and others who are mentioning that she is coaching him to say things. Of course! How stupid was I not to figure this out. From not talking to me for a second to being all nice and begging me to forgive him and to keep it amicable? Of course it is her. Even mother’s day flowers was probably from her.
MIL is very devastated about what happened and she visits me every day even when the children aren’t home. She said that she had to take her in until she gets her own place. No she is not allowed to meet the children and it is already decided and MIL is making sure this is not the case. I understand that MIL chooses her son but she hasn’t given up on me.
I have talked a lot with mom about what happened and no she doesn’t feel guilty. She said that it was different (of course it is🙄) hers was real love and dad’s ex was very abusive. I don’t know, I don’t believe in karma or anything but she said that she at least understands now how dad’s ex felt. I feel anger because some people win and some lose and I still love him very much. I regret exposing what happened. At least I could have had 4 more years together. And the children would have been a bit older. I regret so much things that I have done in a moment of grief and anger

OOP When told to be careful what she puts in text messages and once again be weary of the mistress

Thanks. I have been very careful about texting because as I am keeping all the evidence, I am counting on him doing that too. About his mistress, it is less “evil” than that because I was wrong about her recording the abuse. She stole the surveillance her husband had installed around their house to spy on her. MIL told me this today. She is probably hoping for full custody but I know the rules here and he will have right to see his son no matter so the c-word will have to move back sooner or later.
Only them I will be asking for full custody if my husband moves with her to her city because I don’t want a part time father to my children who shows up whenever he pleases. I want stability. He is either a father or not

THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT THE OOP
DO NOT CONTACT THE OOP's OR COMMENT ON LINKED POSTS, REMEMBER - RULE 7

First / Previous
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Suzanne thought it was absolutely brilliant of me to put books on a flash drive for Sun. She explained that Sun wasn’t as sophant (her word, not mine) as she might seem, more of a repository of information, but she was fairly intelligent. It was how she was able to connect Andrew being in pain to the fact that I was friends with Andrew, and that I would want to know that he was in trouble. Apparently some of Sun’s species had given some ‘wisdom’ to others in the past and it had made its way into mythology.
The key fact was that she was not smart enough to protect herself and her kind from the clever, organized poachers. With that information in mind, it was fascinating for me to think of how Sun took in and organized what she learned. It was almost as if she was a walking, talking library.
On the topic of tours, my first one went wonderfully, and I’m almost hoping Suzanne lets me do more of them. I know not all the tourists are going to be as awesome as these people were, but Suzanne gave me a lot of slack when it comes to dealing with them. She actually said that being a smartass is not grounds for dismissal, and that if I’m sarcastic or facetious to guests who are being ‘daft’ and they complain, she really doesn’t care. Is this the perfect job for me or what?
There were four guests in this party, two adults who were sisters and two children of one of the women, brothers aged thirteen and seventeen. The tour was a birthday gift for the older of the boys from his aunt, since apparently he was passionate about animal protection and conservation.
When they arrived at the front gate, I was sitting at Andrew’s desk, going over the booklet of information one last time. When the visitors pressed the button that sounded the alert buzzer, I tucked away in a drawer and let them in. I did have a cheat sheet with information about the animals on my phone just in case, a brief notation of each of them and which enclosure they were in, but I really didn’t need to use it.
Exiting through the front door, I saw them walk up the path toward me. “Hi, I’m Ripley,” I said, holding out a hand toward the woman closest to me.
She shook it firmly. “I’m Denise. This is my sister Carla and my nephews, Wesley and Jason,” she said, motioning to each of them in turn.
“I heard it’s your birthday,” I said to Wesley, giving him a smile. “You’re interested in animal conversation?”
“Back where we live, yeah,” he said, nodding. “The animals that you’ve got here are incredible. I can’t wait to see them.”
“Well, I can’t wait to show them to you,” I said. “Right this way.”
I led them on the path around the building, toward enclosure one. Despite the horrific memories of the animal killing Stanley’s friends, I knew it was just an animal, and I had to push past my feelings on what had happened. Keeping a small smile on my face, I motioned to the enclosure. “Fiercely territorial and amazing hunters, despite their large size, they’re arboreal and known to dart from tree to tree with barely a sound. This is one of only about two thousand left in existence.”
“Two thousand, three hundred and fifty six at last count,” spoke Wesley, his eyes on the trees.
I blinked, surprised and impressed. “Well that was fantastic. Do you plan on stealing my job when you graduate?”
Wesley looked at me with a grin. “Nah, everyone knows Suzanne only offers humans this gig. And I want to help animals like this one get off the endangered species list. The zoos are great for awareness and fundraising, but then the money has to go somewhere. I want to be doing the real work.”
“That’s really great,” I told him. “I wish you all the best in that career path.” At that, we saw the animal climb down from the tree, wandering a few yards from the tree line. This was because 90% of the time, when humans were at their enclosure and making noise, whether it was speaking to each other or calling out to the animal, it was someone bringing them prey to eat. Or, in my case, enrichment toys to play with.
“Whoa,” Wesley whispered.
“How close can we get?” spoke up Jason.
“The warding starts at the fence,” I told him with a small gesture. “So, just there.”
Both boys wandered closer and I glanced at their parents. It seemed that Suzanne’s zoo had a serious reputation for high quality invisible walls, because they didn’t look worried in the slightest about the boys being hurt or killed.
“They prefer dense forest as their home and have been known to make their nests in trees up to twenty meter in the air,” I continued. “And when hunting, they’ve been seen dropping eight meters straight down. They have incredibly dense yet flexible musculature, which allows them to tackle their prey without injuring themselves.”
There was more information about the animal that I continued to rattle off, though Wesley chimed in at certain points with the info I was about to convey. That was highly entertaining and very cool. When I’d been in school, I’d never met anyone who had my level of passion about endangered animals. I wondered if things were better where these folks came from, but realized that considering there were so few of these animals left, I guessed not.
The animal paced a little bit, seemingly waiting to see if we were the kind of humans that came bearing food, before deciding we weren’t and climbing back up into the trees as easily as I would climb some stairs.
As we moved onto enclosure two, Jason spoke up. “Are there any animals here we can touch or feed or something?”
I sighed inwardly before slowing to a stop. “Well, can you show me your hands?” Jason looked bemused, holding out his hands. “I mean…they both look like they’re in great shape. You can stand to lose one.”
The two women chuckled and Wesley smirked as Jason shoved his hands into his pockets. “Very funny.”
Grinning, I started walking again. “The animals here are all carnivores and all predators. You get to see them, but that’s it.”
“Alright.”
When we reached enclosure two, I started on my next spiel. “We’ve got three reanimated dead in this enclosure,” I spoke. They were just coming out from the trees as we arrived, presumably having heard our approach. “Marissa, Connor, and Bradley. They were donated by families who knew where they would be exhibited. Their next of kin, whoever they are, can’t stand the idea of putting them down. But we need to make sure they don’t have access to corpses, because one of them plus one corpse equals two of them.”
“They eat flesh though, don’t they?” Wesley asked.
I nodded. “Oh, yeah, but it’s from bodies that have already been dismembered. There’s no chance of them being affected by the transformation because it’s all parts.”
“Oh, got it.”
The creatures with blueish-white skin had superhuman strength, which is why they qualified for the security of Suzanne’s zoo. They also were likely the source of any Earth tales of people being brought back to life as zombies, specifically draugr, according to my research. They smelled like rotting flesh, so even as I kept talking about them and giving a background to the people they used to be, we were quick to move on once Wesley had gotten a good, long look at them.
“Enclosure four’s animal is a vampiric spirit. He’s a small, hairy humanoid creature with pointed ears. He wears a hat, and if he somehow loses it, he freaks out,” I said.
“They eat horses,” Wesley noted. “Also anything that gives them the chance to sit on it, usually catching them by surprise while they’re sleeping.”
The creature came out from the brush, giving us a suspicious look. He wasn’t in his humanoid form though; for some reason, he’d chosen to shapeshift to a dog.
I nodded. “Yep, indeed. Once the prey is dead, then he’ll eat it, and he has a voracious appetite. We have two wolves and two bears in the forest, which is one of the reasons I’ve got some self-defense items,” I said, patting my belt where my pepper spray (rated for bear) and my taser. “But the wards keep them out of this area of the zoo, so it’s really not much of a worry. It’s also a known shapeshifter, preferring the form of a dog, as you can see, as well as a cat, a snake, or even white butterflies, though the last one is rare.”
“The white butterflies are supposed to be a sign of good luck,” Wesley said, glancing to me. “Too bad we got the dog.”
“Yeah, otherwise you might be able to talk your mom into getting scratch-offs on your way home, huh?”
Wesley smirked at me.
The next enclosure was Spike, and he was waiting for us, dripping wet from having just emerged from the lake. I gave the introductory information about him, which included his propensity for eating animal eyes, nails, and teeth. “Recently, I’ve given him some enrichment activities, and I learned he likes artichokes, pecans, and hazelnuts,” I said, taking a bag out from my cargo shorts. “Wesley, do you want to toss this bag into the enclosure?”
The boy’s eyes widened and he nodded excitedly. He took a look into the paper bag before wrapping down the top to make sure nothing would fly out. Then he chucked it underhand past the fence. It landed a few yards from Spike, who waddled over to it quickly and tearing the bag open, spilling out the prizes inside. As the animal ate the pecans and hazelnuts, Wesley asked, “How’d you figure out he likes those?”
“It’s not all about taste,” I told him. “It’s mainly the difficulty of getting them out of the shells. He’s used to having to work for the parts of his prey he likes the most, so this mimics that activity, and he enjoys the process. I tried a bunch of different foods to find a few he liked.”
“Cool,” Wesley murmured, staring at him.
We watched Spike eat until he’d finished and then he went back into the woods, leaving us to move onto enclosure five. Japanese camellia were plentiful here, a type of pink flower, and that was because they grew anywhere near one of his species made their den. “This girl spends most of her time in the lake also,” I said, as the creature made its way toward the fence separating us from it. “But as you can see, she’s just as curious as the rest about what we’re doing here and whether we have food for her. She eats fish mostly, but she also regularly gets live prey.”
This creature was a spider-like monster, having six legs with long claws on each, and the head of an ox with two sharp horns. She was capable of shapeshifting to look like a human, but I guessed that she wasn’t fond of it, since I hadn’t yet seen her in that form.
“She prefers the easy way of catching prey, so to speak, by hiding in the lake and pouncing when something comes for a drink of water,” I explained. “Apparently humans are some of her favorite prey. She has an advantage of being able to spit poison, which often hits her prey in the eyes. But it’s usually used in defense rather than offense, since it secretes a limited amount.”
“What kind of animal would even go after something like this?” Jason asked, staring at her.
“Never discount one of its own species when you’re thinking about what might attack an animal,” I replied. “There are places that are breeding all of the animals here, but competition for mates is common. That means an advantage in a fight, like poison or venom, can make or break who the winner is.”
“Ah, gotcha.”
“It can’t spit past the warding, right?” Carla suddenly asked.
“Oh, no,” I assured her. “We’re fine. The wards wouldn’t let anything cross over.” She nodded, appeased.
The animal in enclosure six was the ginormous seal-hippo, Fiona, and she was looking at us as if she was imagining sprinkling us with herbs and spices and stuffing us in an oven. “This girl is one animal I’m going to work on enrichment activities for next,” I told them. “She prefers to feed on crayfish, though she’s happy to eat any humans that wander into her territory. She’ll even make a sound like a baby crying to reel us in. I’ve heard it a bunch of times.”
“Can you get her to make the sound?” Jason asked, perking up.
I grinned. “Not on command, sorry.”
“What enrichment are you thinking of trying?” Wesley asked.
“Possibly food placed in puzzle feeders,” I told him, “since she has claws that are pretty dexterous. Maybe a piñata made out of newspaper with flour inside, or a scarecrow that mimics a human.”
“Awesome,” he muttered.
After a little more educational tidbits, we moved onto Yui’s enclosure. “What is that?” Wesley asked, smiling.
“I got Yui the closest thing I could to a ping-pong ball,” I replied. “She quite likes it.”
“That’s so funny,” he said as she came out of the trees in her spider form. “I mean, the idea of her being a bloodthirsty hunter who seduces men to their deaths and eats them alive, but then on the other hand, she likes playing with something like this.”
“It is a little funny,” I agreed. “But when it comes down to it, all the animals here enjoy activities besides hunting.”
“She can shapeshift to look human, right?” asked Jason, trying to be casual about knowing something factual like his nerdy brother.
I nodded. “She looks like a woman from a region of Earth called Japan. And she’ll use strategies like holding out a hand to shake to get you closer. She tried that on me when I first got here but, as you can see,” I said, holding up my hands and waving them, “I didn’t fall for it.”
The boys both laughed as they got closer to the fence, watching her slowly pace near the trees.
Next was Sun, but she didn’t make an appearance as I spoke about her species. “Well…unfortunately we can’t guarantee that every animal comes out to say hi,” I sighed. “But…oh wait, here she is.”
The green lion with several horns and many eyes along her flank came out from the forest. “Hello,” she spoke.
“Hi, Sun,” I replied. “We have visitors.”
“What’s that?” Wesley asked suddenly, pointing at the small plastic bag that was still where I’d left it.
“Oh! That is Sun’s enrichment,” I said with a smile. “I put dozens of books on a flash drive and found that she can read them just like she’d read a shelf of books.”
Wesley’s eyes widened. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve read about anyone trying that before. That’s really cool.”
“The books are new and interesting,” Sun spoke, drawing our attention. “I’m grateful for them.”
I nodded to her. “You’re quite welcome.”
The next animal, unfortunately, wasn’t there, and we waited around for ten minutes as we discussed him. He was large and reptile-like with red eyes, with its hind legs and tail making him look vaguely like a kangaroo. Then, enclosure ten was a terrifyingly disturbing creature, the not-a-centaur with no skin, that I’d only seen a few times while walking my route. It gave a good demonstration of its ferocity, showing its sharp teeth and snapping at us a few times.
“I’m thinking of trying salt licks and other horse enrichment like a big bouncy ball,” I told Wesley, whose eyebrows went up at that. “Maybe give him more things to forage like scattered grains or a box filled with pinecones and seeds. Foraging is a huge part of a horse’s life in the wild, and humans have to do a lot of activities like that to keep pet horses busy. Of course, he also loves the little salt-water lake that was built for him.”
We spent some time looking at the animal before moving past our last stop, the empty enclosure of the animal was stolen. Carla glanced at me with a sad smile, knowing what had happened, it seemed. I gave her a nod as we continued on our way, walking into the office. “So, I hope everyone enjoyed themselves!” I said with a smile.
“That was the coolest birthday present I’ve ever gotten,” Wesley said, looking to Denise. “Thanks so much, seriously.”
“It was my pleasure,” she said with a nod. “I’d never been here before, and knew I’d find it fascinating. Thank you for the educational aspect,” Denise said, glancing at me. “I learned quite a lot.”
“Happy to hear it,” I said, returning the nod.
As I escorted the guests out of the zoo and locked the door behind them, I reflected on how much I’d changed. The first time I’d seen Yui’s tarantula form, I’d nearly passed out from fear. Now here I was, walking tourists around like it was no big deal. Humans really can adapt to anything, it seems.
That afternoon, Suzanne had texted me that she was coming by after my shift, and I met her in Andrew’s office, shutting the door to the security room behind me. “How’s Andrew?” I asked first thing.
“He’s doing well,” she said with a wide smile. “Back on non-hospital food. He’s allowed to order food on his phone, and to hear it from him, that’s the best news he’d received in a long time.”
I chuckled. “I guess some clichés are true for a reason.”
“Indeed.” She took a breath. “All right. Ripley…I would like to discuss something with you.”
My face went slack at the serious tone in her voice. “I’m not… Am I being fired?”
“What? No!” she exclaimed. Then she chuckled softly. “No, it’s nothing like that. Just, here, let’s have a seat.” Suzanne walked over to the couch and sat at one end, and I took the other. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something I’ve kept from you, that I wanted to keep from you until you found your sea legs here.”
“Well…I have,” I said with a nod. “So, what is it?”
Suzanne took a breath. “I knew your mother.”
The words hung in the air for a moment before making their way to my ears. It was a perfectly logical sentence, and yet it didn’t make any sense. “What?” I finally managed.
“When you graduated college, I decided to move the zoo from Italy to within driving distance of your home,” she said softly. “Near enough to your town that you’d see the advert. We ignored any other applicants and I hoped you’d apply. Actually, I expected you’d apply. Not just for the money, but considering the field you wanted to go into. As soon as I’d found out your major, I knew.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” I said, holding up a hand. I pinched the bridge of my nose. “How do you know Patricia?”
“She owned the zoo before I did,” Susan explained. “Fourteen years ago…she was working to track an injured animal that we could bring into the zoo and she was killed by poachers.”
My heart calcified in my chest and a lump lodged in my throat. As my breaths became shaky, I stared at her in shock. “She…she’s really dead?”
“You suspected?” she asked softly.
“It…” I swallowed hard. “We had her declared legally dead after…I don’t know, seven years I think. My dad wanted to go after her for child support, but the police said…they said they couldn’t find…” Tears came to my eyes and I blinked them back before I met Suzanne’s gaze. “She owned the zoo?”
Suzanne nodded. “It was her baby, you’d say. When Patricia passed, I inherited it, which we’d discussed beforehand, a legal just-in-case that I never expected her to need. I’m under the impression that you were told she went to Africa for her photography career, but she was in fact going to remote areas back in my home world almost every time.”
“But I-I saw the photos,” I said, my eyes narrowing. “You’re telling me she put on a show of getting pictures that someone else took for us to see every time she visited? Did my dad even know?”
“I suppose that’s an accurate way to put it, putting on a show. And no, your father was never told. It’s not the way of things to tell humans unless it’s necessary. I won’t bore you with the details, but us and humans, we’re distant relatives, so we can still have children. But it wasn’t planned. Your mother fell in love with your father despite herself; she hadn’t meant to find love. Then she became pregnant with you and…well, the rest is history.”
“I think she had a different definition of love than the one I have,” I said tightly. “You’d think she’d have put her survival as more of a priority. Put being with the man she ‘loved’ as a priority. Her kids needed her. I needed her. She signed up when she became a mom. She could’ve screwed up all the time but she couldn’t even manage that one job: be there. When I was in the hospital, I kept thinking, ‘Where is she?’ and now you’re telling me that she put these animals above being there for her kids, and this whole time she’s been dead.”
“The hospital?” she asked, furrowing her brows.
“Never mind,” I said tersely, averting my gaze.
Suzanne hesitated before she nodded slowly. “I’m sorry for your loss, and not just for her death, Ripley,” she told me. “Patricia was…well, a ‘free spirit’ would be putting it gently. She always assumed the world would be there for her whenever she needed it.”
Staring at her for a long moment, I shook my head. “Why? Why come here and hire me?”
“I thought that would be obvious,” she said, smiling. “Your mother was so passionate about this place and once I found out your college major, I figured you would be as well.”
“Did you know that I hate her?” At that, Suzanne’s expression froze on the edge of shock. “She…she left us,” I whispered. “Didn’t tell us who she was or what she really did for a living and gave us no closure. And even when she was here, it was just visiting. Her real home was her work. She could give me all the presents she wanted, but even when she was here, half the time she was still on her computer doing work. It’s not like that stereotype of never making it to my tennis practice or something; it’s that it always felt like she was only partially here, even when I was sitting next to her. I don’t even know if I appreciate her turning me into a wildlife fanatic because it…it…makes me feel like I’m close to her in a way that’s just infuriating. She loved the animals more than she loved us.”
“Oh, Ripley-”
“Don’t,” I said, shoving myself to my feet. “Don’t try to convince me otherwise.”
“I wasn’t going to,” she said quietly. I pursed my lips. “I was going to say that I’m sorry that was the case. Your mother was…flawed, just like any other person. She had two loves in this world: her family and her work. And often, her work overcame her, her zeal for environmentalism getting in the way of being a good mum. She left your father trying to fill the role of two parents, holding your family together. You and your brother and your father, you all deserved better than that.”
My lower lip quivered but I bit down on it hard. It would’ve been a lot easier for me if she’d been speaking from a place of clueless reassurance about all this. But everything she said was making sense and that meant I didn’t have someone in front of me to be angry with.
“Why didn’t you tell me when Andrew hired me?” I sighed, sitting back down on the couch.
“Well, like I said, I wanted you to find your sea legs,” she said with a small smile. “I didn’t want the truth affecting whether or not you wanted to work here, whether you wanted to stay here after finding out about what the animals are. It would’ve complicated things, the emotions you’ll have to work through now that you know the truth. Whether or not you decide to give another tour, you also know what they’re like. That’s the benchmark I wanted you to reach before you found out about who you are.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Who I-” My face went slack. “Wait.”
Suzanne nodded slowly. “You’re only half human. Your brother too.”
The room seemed to tilt on an axis for a moment. “That means I’m also half…what?”
“We call ourselves Eldritch, these days,” she replied.
My eyes bugged out. “What?” I exclaimed. “So you’re all, like, gods or something?”
Suzanne burst out laughing. “Oh no, goodness, no,” she chuckled. “It’s just a word. We live in a very different world from this one, and a few generations ago we discovered the word and it made its way into our lexicon. But it does mean you can see all the animals. Indeed you did, on the tour you gave.”
“Wait, no, I had the glasses that…” I stopped. “Did those glasses do anything?”
She gave a sly smile and shook her head. “Not a thing. You made incredibly quick progress, and then when it came time for the tour, all you needed was to expect to see the animals, and you did.”
Genetics. That’s what Andrew had said during our interview, that part of how many animals you could see was determined by genetics. I guess having a mother who was originally from the other dimension gave me all the genes I needed to see everything here. “Could I…visit your world?” I asked tentatively. “You said that my mom took photos of the animals there. Could I…” My voice trailed off, not even sure if or how I wanted to finish that sentence.
“Those who are half human, especially those who are raised on Earth, don’t come visit,” she said gently. “I could show you some photos of other animals, and I could loan you as many books as you’d like, but it’s simply not a place where you’d be safe.”
“Oh,” I said, leaning into the couch cushion as I pictured the animals in the zoo. “Yeah, actually that…makes sense.” I paused. “So, what now?”
“It’s up to you,” she said. “I wanted to wait until I was sure you were comfortable with your position here, and then put the ball in your court. And so it is. What do you want to do now?”
What did I want to do? It wasn’t that difficult a question, just a deep, serious one.
I wanted to thrive, as the animals did. This is my enrichment now, working at an incredible, wonderful, terrifying zoo. The experience so far hasn’t been perfect, and I know there are risks, but life isn’t about staying safe. It’s about learning new things and making a difference in the world. And, if you’re lucky, having a job that’s something really special.
​
THE END
​
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So, still not talking to my MIL after all the stuff that's happened lately. It's been about 9 days. Today after getting home from DD1's dance class and between going back outside to play, a grocery bag containing a teeny bag of cat food, cat treats, and a cat toy was tied to our front door handle. The food and treats were organic brands that MIL has given us before. She used to be an organic food broker and is obsessed with everyone eating organic. I'm certain this was her as any of my neighbors would have texted that they left us something or asked if we wanted it.
DD1 saw the bag and contents, so I guess the cats are getting a new toy, but the food is salmon flavored. Neither of my cats will touch it. One of them chewed into the bag, maybe ate a bit, and then ignored it. I'm going to see if we can donate the food to a neighbor who has cats.
I'm just so confused. Is this her weird way of love bombing? Giving us a gift to make us like her again? Why use cat stuff? I'm trying to think of other reasons it could be, but nothing else makes sense. If she got free cat food, she easily could have kept it for BIL2's cat as he lives with them. Why leave it tied to the door handle and not knock? (I have paper taped over the bell so no one rings it while DD2 is taking a nap.)

ACT 1. Sunday afternoon after visiting the local market two brothers wait for their train to arrive. If they were even a minute late, they knew their mother would surely scold them and scold the elder of the two far worse. The idea of another beating did not bother the elder brother; he had been through far worse just dealing with the brat and his attempted jailbreaks, though something did begin to make him painfully nauseous forcing him to feel pressured by the light breeze as if gravity had suddenly been increased tenfold. All his senses were heightening beyond anything he had thought possible.All around him he saw that the once energetic and hyperactive passengers had become little more than mannequins; their movements slowing to a standstill. They had all gone silent. The station was no longer filled with the cries of children or the gentle laughs of their parents. He had never heard such silence in such a crowded location. He did not feel panicked, nor did he feel a need to act for this silence was oddly comforting to him. However, the newly calm atmosphere would quickly be the source of a lifetime of suffering.His hand began to reach for his brother in an attempt to call his attention. Though in a moment of both unprecedented shock and exhaustion John shoved his younger brother onto the rails of an oncoming train. Local news would report the incident as nothing more than a tragic manic episode of a young sixteen-year-old. However, for John this single visceral instant in which all of his brother's bones were instantly crushed was stretched into hours. He was painfully aware of how every bone in his brother's body contorted in inhuman ways some nearly resembling perfect right angles, until eventually, they snapped and sent insurmountable pain throughout his nervous system. His blood curling screams were made mute by the screech of the train coming to a halt, though, by the time they stopped, his brother had torn his every vocal cord and had long ago lost consciousness. Still on the platform, the elder brother stood still, attempting to process what exactly he had done. He had no idea what force had compelled him to push his brother, but that instant would forever define what he saw as reality.That however was nineteen years ago, in present day he lived in isolation far from any person. He spent his isolated days wandering the land around his cabin completing house chores that distracted him from reminiscing about his days in the asylum or as he liked to call it “The Echo Room” where he was transferred after the incident. He headed inside after spending a portion of his morning counting all one-hundred-and-thirty-two trees that were showing signs of life after the harsh winter that nearly forced him to cut down two of them for firewood. Once inside he began preparing his morning coffee when he heard a loud creak come from the hall. He (after many incidents) learnt to avoid the boards that creaked, so in his mind immediately an intruder was breaking into his cabin searching for food or his stash of special edition coffee. Deciding to investigate he walked towards the noise when suddenly he heard two knocks at his front door. Confused and slightly worried, he proceeded to walk towards the door making sure not to step on any of the annoyingly loud floorboards.He approached and looked through the peephole and saw only what remained of the melting snow outside. Opening the door, he saw that only his steps led to the doormat. He glanced around and saw no indication of any life aside a few dark patches on the snow. He was about to close the door when he noticed a tiny red package wrapped in a radiant red bow placed clear from where the door would open. Cautiously picking it up, he noticed how it had almost no weight to it; as if empty. He walked inside and sat at his desk planning to journal later about the weird morning he had been having. He examined the exterior of the package and saw how not only was it near perfect condition but it was also slightly warm to the touch; as if recently held. He undid the bow and cautiously opened the package, half expecting an explosive of some sort. Though, all he found was a ragged ripped piece of paper. Unremarkable aside from the fact that it was inside such a carefully constructed package. On the other side he saw that it had some scarlet lettering inscribed into it reading.“Ouroboros”. At first believing it to be a prank by the kids who had heard rumors about him, and his incident, nearly caused him to dismiss it entirely deeming it little more than a slightly humorous event. He decided to put it aside for now as he had coffee left to drink that was quickly getting cold. He walked back towards the kitchen still distracted by the idea of no trace being left by whoever had left the gift. Was it even a gift? Maybe it was just some well-executed prank? In any manner he would later have a better look at it. He absentmindedly, reached for his cup and immediately pulled his hand back shocked by the temperature of the cup. It was frozen! Almost to a complete solid. He thought himself slightly distracted but not enough to freeze his morning coffee especially not his special edition coffee. First The Box and now this, it was all adding up to an annoying morning. Was it still morning? No, that’s not right. He had just spent the day counting trees. How could it still possibly be morning?The thought of Dr. Lumis being correct about his mental condition after so many years sent a chill down his spine especially since last time they talked, he did not exactly behave amicably. He was sure that both incidents had been isolated events that could never happen again. Sure, he had heard the echoes every once in a while, but he was never insane like the others; this he knew to be a fact. If he was insane, how could he have ever left? Disoriented and beginning to sweat, his legs suddenly gave out causing him to fall backward landing on the cold wooden floorboards. He looked around hurriedly expecting to see an intruder that had somehow found him. After seeing nothing but his pristine furniture, he steadied himself and began to control his breathing. He slowly got up causing the wood underneath to creak under the sudden release of weight. Deciding to further assure himself he went around the cabin checking in all four rooms. He found nothing aside from his own disturbances. Still feeling slightly nervous and disturbed he headed back towards the living room in search for The Box with the red bow determining that it had somehow triggered his current situation. The Box was still where he placed it; much to his relief. He sat down. He looked once again at the scarlet lettering.
Act 2. Back in the asylum he would often spend his days wondering how he could have ever been grouped alongside individuals who had purposefully and viciously committed heinous crimes against innocent victims. He was not insane like them. Whatever had caused his hand to shove his brother had long abandoned him. His routine now consisted of cleaning whatever mess the older residents made in the halls and transporting lab waste to the crematorium. He would clean from the southern stalls all the way to the northern cemetery and make his rounds gathering the waste from the rooms. It was a simple job but lonely, nonetheless. The halls were often only illuminated by tiny flickering red lights that indicated the position of the cameras through which Dr.Lumis would often monitor John during his nightly crusades. Though incredibly distasteful, John did not mind, he accepted that odd situations would be easier to explain if someone of credit had seen them. Yet despite this, he felt he was being watched by someone other than the doctor. He assumed that this feeling was due to the paranoia he had been diagnosed with a few months back. On a particular night, moments after dumping another bag of soft solids and dense liquids down the chute, he heard footsteps, just outside the room. Expecting to see the doctor he begrudgingly walked towards the door. Exiting and seeing no one he called out for the doctor but got no response aside from the echo of his own voice. He began to walk towards where he had heard the footsteps come from when he suddenly collapsed out of exhaustion. The same exhaustion that had plagued him during the moment of his brother’s death. He tried to reach for his panic button (a gift from Lumis) but it had disappeared from his chain. He tried to scream but not a single whisper was heard. He gazed into the dark corridor where he had thought Dr.Lumis had gone, but saw nothing but soft shadows. Though something was unnervingly wrong about them. They moved as if following an order, all synchronized, all heading towards him. That night in the asylum had left him scared to even return to the disposal area; he feared that The Shadows might eventually be able to reach him. The Shadows did not haunt him unaccompanied: they followed alongside The Echo tormenting his nights. While The Shadows could not reach him during daylight, he could never escape The Echo. It followed wherever he went and tracked everything he did. Dr.Lumis explained that he merely suffered from an extreme case paranoia but John saw the others; who yelled and who screamed true nonsense, he was perfectly aware of himself and the ones around him. Dr. Lumis secretly believed patient #132 experienced Hyper-sanity though this he would never verbally confess. It was term he decided would for now adequately describe his patient’s acute awareness of The Shadows and The Echo. John would for many years go without hearing The Echo after that night, only ever hearing what seemed like the final moans of a dying voice. Back in present day, he hoped he wasn’t suffering another hallucination as they tended to leave him in an embarrassing shocked state. He questioned what “Ouroboros” could possibly mean in relation to himself. He considered the possibility of it being an early warning of some threat to the sanctity of his home. He quickly dismissed it as he had not interacted with anyone long enough to possibly annoy them. Weird them out? Sure. Offend them? Maybe with his sense of fashion. Following his incredibly fine-tuned survival instincts he put on a light coat and went outside to walk among the trees. A mundane task, but one he truly enjoyed especially since he hoped it would distract him for a short while. Just before he closed the door behind him, he took one more look at The Box sitting on his desk and decided to take it with him in case he met the person who had left it. The sun had begun to set marking the end of the day. He watched the sun hide behind the mountain range letting the world bathe in darkness for another night. John did not dislike the night (he had worked nightshifts in The Echo Room for years) but he didn’t find the freezing cold to be ideal. He had not left his land for what was a few years now and the idea of even slightly stepping out of his comfort was making him incredibly anxious. Still, he walked forward towards wherever the path took him. The night only got darker and quieter, and he only got colder. He did not see the lightning bugs that usually warded away the dark near the edge of his hill. Without the soft hum of bugs or soft breeze that would brush against his beard he felt alone. Even the nights back in the asylum did not possess this level of quiet. He kept moving hoping that eventually he would find something that could break the uncomfortable silence. As he continued down the hill, he realized he could no longer distinguish the path from the dirt surrounding it. He considered heading back when he realized he had not kept track of where he had come from. Not only was he lost but alone with his thoughts and whatever had been watching him from the start. He walked a step forward and then another one back repeatedly. What he was attempting to achieve was beyond reason. Had he gone mad? No, he was perfectly sane. “Wait, I can hear them clearly now” he spoke, his voice dried from the cold.“This is not a hallucination” he spoke softly.“i-I AM NOT HALLUCINATING” he proclaimed. He heard The Echo once more though they were not of his voice but rather of Another. He had long been aware of “The Echo” but he could never fully determine whether it was a dream or an effect of the chemicals but this Other was undoubtedly real. “I don’t know where you are but please. Are you real?” he asked the night. He could now hear The Echo or rather feel the pressure of its words upon his reality. Had it been trying to hide the Other? He walked forward and pulled out The Box. “You gave me this right? What for? What purpose does it serve?” No one responded.Annoyed, he threw it as far as he could down the hill. “THERE! THIS CAN’T CONTINUE WITHOUT IT, RIGHT?” He shouted at the endless empty. That’s when out of the darkness emerged a faint light. Was it a lightning bug or maybe a sign of civilization?
Act 3. Cautiously, he approached the cold light and saw that the light was artificial. The tube inside flickered before another appeared a few feet ahead, and then another and then another and then what seemed like an uncountable amount more. He took a step forward and noticed that the ground underneath had turned to hard white tile. Accepting that this was not the weirdest occurrence that had affected him he proceeded to walk forward making sure to keep a mental note to journal about it later. The surrounding landscape transformed into white walls that every so often had a window that let him peek at the other side. At first, he could still see the snowy landscape, but it to slowly changed; first having scattered papers and then chairs, cabinets, and desks until they eventually resembled a typical office. Its purpose was not obvious to him, and neither was the hallway but if they were changing surely, it possessed a deeper metaphorical meaning that related to his life. He saw a door at the very end of the hall and decided to not postpone the ploy of whatever “The Echo” was planning. He stood before the door wondering about what it could possibly contain. John proceeded to open the door. Inside was a desk along with a single cabinet. Walking inside he noticed that the room was illuminated by some otherworldly source that had no words that could possibly describe it. He walked towards the desk and a file he had not seen previously, sat open. Inside was a description of his physical appearance. “Age: 35. Height: 5’8. Weight: 185 lbs. Hair: Black with obvious signs of stress. Eyes: Brown. Character Aptitude: High.” “Okay, I get it. I’m old, you didn’t have to expose my hair like that” he said slightly embarrassed quickly restyling his hair. He noticed that even though they had an almost perfect description of his hobbies, dreams and wishes they did not have a single picture as if they for some reason were only able to use words. “SOOO you know about that one time in the asylum (don’t ask) BUT NOT A SINGLE PICTURE? That’s lame.” he said mockingly. On the final page he found what looked like an incomplete file; most of the personal attributes had not yet been filled and only a note was made reading. “They don’t need a complete story just one they can understand.” Besides the fact that whatever role he played in this act had been a mere afterthought; he was confused as to how anyone could have ever gathered such sensitive and personal information about his isolated life. Was it The Echo? Had it told them his life? A phone started to ring somewhere in the room abruptly breaking the silence he had become used to. He quickly rotated towards the source of the ringing but did not find anything. There was only him and the four walls that despite the lighting did not change a shade of grey. He walked towards one of them that seemed to be where the noise came from resting his hand on it and gently put his ear to it thinking that the ringing was from another room entirely. The wall he had just laid a hand on had no longer a physical representation and causing John to fall through to the other side. Disoriented he slowly looked up and saw The Telephone illuminated by what seemed to be the same light that illuminated the previous room. This one however was far more powerful and concentrated solely on The Telephone. He approached it expecting a chasm to somehow appear underneath his feet. The Telephone did not stop ringing and only seemed to increase in intensity (though this could have simply been a hallucination). He lifted it to cut the blaring noise and slowly put it to his ear. “hello?” “…” “…” “The protagonist only dies if the story ends” the voice said quietly. “HUH? YOU DRAGGED ME HERE TO TELL ME THAT OMINOUSLY ANNOYING LOAD OF *********!” “…I’m so sorry” The call disconnected not out of offense but rather out of completion. John slammed the phone back onto its stand and decided it was time for this nonsense to end. He walked out into the room he was in before anxiously attempting to find another exit: only to be met with solid walls. What wicked game had he been roped into? When would it end? These were questions he would answer far earlier than he expected. A door appeared in the center of the room. No, it was more of a two-dimensional plane that appeared to be a sort of portal. With no other options, John stepped into the newly opened portal.
Act 4. On the other side was a station, and his ears were immediately flooded with the cries of children and the laughs of their parents. He walked around moving through the crowd careful to not miss any indication of the location. His pace increased as he began to recognize the commuters shortly realizing exactly where he was. He rushed to a platform, the platform where he and his brother were to arrive after their day in the market. He sat on a nearby bench committed to saving his brother no matter who he would have to shove instead. Three agonizing days passed with the daily commuters repeating their routine with the slightest variations. One of these variations would be the key to preventing the day that haunted his nights. Something would soon cause him to shove his brother onto the tracks. He was determined to stop the fall or kill himself to keep his brother safe.He heard a familiar laughter and turned towards the source and saw his brothers face uncontrollably laughing and himself lightly smiling. He began to run towards them but felt once again suddenly exhausted. As if the air became a type of nonnewtonian sludge making his legs impossibly heavy. The crowd around him seemed to be moving just as easily as before; children laughing just as maniacally and just as carelessly. He tried to yell to them, but his lungs were filled with the dense fluid drowning any screams he attempted. He was forced to watch how his brother got closer and closer to the edge. Through much effort, he managed to get close enough to extend a hand towards his past trying to desperately push him away from his brother. The past reacted in what seemed to be a defensive system and sent a temporal anomaly throughout the space his past and present inhabited. Time began to exponentially speed forward. In a last desperate attempt to prevent his brother’s death he tried to distract the past long enough to let the train pass without incident, but the temporal anomaly caused the relative slow velocity of his touch to have the effect of a sudden jerk and in his final moments of consciousness he saw his brother accelerate towards the rails in a split second. He awoke back in the office alone with nothing, but the realization of what force had killed his brother. He curled into the fetal position and began to cry; still believing his lungs to be filled with the dense liquid he did not let out a single sigh. He spent several hours in this state of painful silence without even opening his eyes. His emotions were chaotic and his thoughts unending. They tormented him for hours far after he had run out of tears to let out. They were merciless and torturous forbidding him from resting, insisting on his suffering. Being the cause of his brother’s death nearly caused him to go insane yet part of him kept insisting that Another was to blame. Another had caused him to do it. The Other had forced his hand. Of this, he was now sure. The Other enjoyed his suffering, The Other forced him to kill his brother. He had not eaten nor slept in what seemed like years and yet he stood up defying the gravity that held him down. He took a deep breath of as much oxygen as his lungs allowed and began to speak. “Whoever you are. Whatever you are. Wherever you are. Just know I will no longer play for your entertainment the rest is entirely my choice” he said threateningly. He then began to walk forwards confidently towards the dark wall and through the hidden door that he was not supposed to see. He entered what seemed to be a studio room though, unlike the sterile office; it was trashed. Papers littered the floor and empty bottles populated the lone mattress. On it laid a journal that had recently had liquid spilt on it. He picked the journal and gently opened it and began to read. It was scratched with the stray ideas of a creator who seemed to have never decided upon an end or beginning to his story; yet possessing the journey. He saw many ideas that together seemed to create a way for the continuity to depend entirely on Another rather than itself. A thought described in a single word interested him enough to take it with him. The room started to dissolve around him transforming into a cold landscape. Armed with the knowledge of who he was he treaded what remained of the worn-out path. The sun began to rise signing the start of another day, yet John did not seem to notice as he was focused on something buried in the snow. He could not see much of it yet he knew it was The Box he had thrown the previous night. He dug it up and began his walk up the hill once more. He eventually arrived at his cabin and walked towards his front door….
Act 5.
If you wish to rebel; continue reading on the next page.
Begin the story once more on Truth 2.
If you wish to ward away The Other; don’t read any further
If you wish to follow The Echo read Truth 3
To understand turn to Truth 4
Truth 1
…Before deciding that no longer would he be a puppet for someone’s amusement. John arrogantly began marched back down the hill and headed north towards the nearest interstate a few miles from his home hoping that he had derailed The Echo’s plot. It took him hours on foot, but he would eventually come across the road and start his journey back to civilization no longer subject to the whims of an Otherworldly Audience. He believed his future was now his to decide. He decided what he would become. He decided when and what to think. This he was sure would be how he escaped his torment. John suddenly suffered a complete body collapse and fell forward landing face first onto the scorching road. It would be several sweltering hours before anyone would find him. But eventually someone did, john suffering heavy burns and on the brink of death was saved. He would awake months later in a hospital bed though no one would ever know of this. Weeks would pass as john laid in the hospital bed unable to speak or even move; alerting no one to his consciousness. The doctors and nurses were busy with whatever important patients needed immediate attention; they walked from one end to the other in what seemed like mere minutes. The entire time the only company he had was The Echo and yet slowly it too seemed to forget his existence as well. Eventually The Echo having no interest went away.Jane a third-year medical student had recently joined the staff a month prior and had already been assigned two elders and one child. Though overwhelmed she did not grow annoyed nor frustrated; she loved her job and by proxy her patients. Despite her benevolent nature there was a single patient she never went near as he always seemed to be watching her despite his eyes being shut for over four months. Any time she got near to patient #132 she would begin to get nauseous and quickly retreat. She had no ID on the man, but it seemed he was dehydrated for far longer than should’ve been possible and should be by all accounts dead if not near it. Whenever she worked nightshifts, she would swear that she heard the man whimper slightly as if to warn her of something. Even when she was on the opposite side of the building, she would hear the echo of his groans. She would eventually be transferred and would soon forget the man who after 6 months was officially declared braindead and was due to be disposed of, yet she would still every once in a while, still hear The Echo. Forgotten Ending
Truth 2…Realizing that there was no other choice John took a step forward while placing the note he ripped from the journal into The Box making sure to keep it neatly packaged. He saw the footprints he had left two nights before and carefully stepped into each one making sure to not disturb the surrounding snow. Whatever…Whoever had set him on this path allowed him to live a life of suffering, a life of loss, and a life of pain. This, he felt was the way things were intended to play out; the way it had to end. He placed The Box on the final step making sure it would not be knocked away whenever the door would eventually open. He walked away nearly to the edge of the property when he looked back once more. Managing to peek inside he saw his past still making his coffee when he saw an almost invisible distortion appear near the front door. He smiled and turned away only saying…Freedom ending
Truth 3…though spotting a disturbance near the back of the cabin distracted him from the front door. He decided to investigate for fear of losing a single blossoming tree. Arriving near the back fence he saw no indication of a disturbance giving him much needed reassurance. He heard noise emerge from inside the cabin giving him one more dilemma to deal with. He headed to the backdoor making sure to not disturb the recent snow and entered the cabin. Being sleep deprived and without coffee he had forgotten about the wooden floor and stepped on one that caused a creak to be heard throughout the cabin. He quickly hid in the bathroom fearing that he had disturbed the continuity that The Echo had established when suddenly a bright flash blinded him. He found himself at the front door next to The Box. Slightly amused he proceeded to knock on the door and was soon after transported once more to an empty hall. Both confused and entertained as he was being transported from one place in time to another he took a few steps forward alerting the past to his presence. Seeing his past enter the hall he ducked and quickly hid around the corner. His past seemed to believe that the doctor was in the halls and decided to investigate though just as he was nearing closer; his past collapsed. John saw how his fall was slowed as if moving through the dense liquid he had once gone through. He walked towards his past and noticed an old fashioned panic button that would instantly call Dr.Lumis to his location. Measuring the consequences, he decided to remove the panic button and head back towards The Shadows. For a third and final time he was transported to a final location, the bottom of a snowy hill. Taking in his surroundings he noticed burn marks on the snow where his past would eventually walk through the portal whenever the past caught up. He reached into his pocket and realized how the plot was supposed to move forward. He walked until he reached the exact point where his past would once again find The Box. He kneeled and buried The Box making sure to erase any evidence of his own disturbances. Fully fulfilling his purpose John collapsed. The End.
“Did the hero die?” “What?” “Did he die?” “No? He beat the bad guy and saved the day remember?” “Yea but like AFTER.” “Well, I guess after a few years he would.” “No” The young child said growing annoyed, “when you said, “The End” did he die?” “No.” responded the elder brother. “Then what happened to him? Is he still alive?” “The protagonist only dies if you stop reading.” concluded the elder brother as if possessed. Begin again?
Truth 4…Then just as he took his first step forward everything began to rot. His trees, his home, his coffee, all of it was slowly eroding into a fine dust. He knew that another temporal anomaly would be the likely cause, but he had not yet experienced one that possessed this level of molecular destruction. The fabric of his reality was slowly and thoroughly being untangled into its most simple of compositions. It separated the light from dark, gravity from time, and words from spaces.John could now comprehend what had defined his reality for so many painful years, he finally understood The Narrative and how all possible endings had been chosen long before his creation. John had been a slave from the moment The Narrative began; not once in his entire existence had he ever had a real choice only walking paths already treaded by Another. He was nothing but a plot device in an otherwise self-indulging tale written by a gentle master forced to be cruel for those above. From the moment this story began, John was in pain. He could never hope to truly escape; he could only die until he arose once more. Had John never understood what his life really was then maybe he could’ve found meaning in his suffering. Unfortunately, this choice has now forced John to become aware of how truly meaningless his existence was. His life was little more than entertainment for The Other; they were the ones truly in control. For as long as The Other remained, The Echo would doom John to eternal suffering. The Echo was never in control of The Narrative; he too was merely a subject to it by an even greater force. The Echo did not wish for John to suffer but The Other would not allow John to live if he did not. It is a toxic cycle of pain, suffering and realization that forces John to relive The Narrative lifetime after lifetime. The Narrative must have suffering intertwined into its foundation otherwise The Other would grow bored and erase the reality ending John in but a mere thought. Don’t you see? Don’t you understand? This is reality; John cannot exist without pain, The Echo cannot live without a narrative, and The Other is you. THE END......
Intended to be a philosophical narrative detailing the tragic relationship between the reader, the narrator, and the character and how they cannot coexist without hurting each other.

If you read my previous posts, you probably know that I've been trying to do a playthrough that ended up becoming a project (well maybe that's a bit far but you get the idea lol.). After a while of trying to find the right mods and right way to do things I finally got it. Mostly because of you guys which I highly appreciate. So I wanted to share my character. His story, restrictions, and of course the mods.
Story: though he was born a nord, Randal was raised by bosmer who followed the green pact. He learned how to hunt and fight from a young age. He grew up with the green pact and ways of the bosmer. At a young age him and his adopted family learned of the uncle being a werewolf. The father tried to confront him but uncle chantir grew enraged. He grew tired of the family and their ways. He started destroying the house and grew violent. The kids (Randal included) tried to stop him but he knocked them back. That's when he transformed and tore their mother apart as a beast. He back handed Randal and sent him flying. When Randal woke up chantir was gone and his father and siblings were a little hurt, nothing fatal thankfully. Years have passed and someone with the ability to see into the future told Randal and his panther friend nargay of a destiny in skyrim. More was described to nargay as Randal must discover more on his own by heading to helgen. So with heartfelt farewells, Randals family and village wishes him a good journey in skyrim.
There's kind of 3 arcs I wanted to do and hopefully I'll remember to list the mods that aid these alongside them.
Arc 1, the main one, destiny: at first Randal would be afraid to go to helgen (starting the main questline). He fears it would be a destiny that keeps him away from valenwood for too long. (For visits to valenwood, I'm using elden root. Also it has the version of nargay I'm using as I heard the milandriel version has some issues.) He has a home away from home for if skyrim gets to be too much (milandriel as there doesn't seem to be much choices for bosmer style homes.) But it's not the same. He discovers early that he is called dragonborn (I used gray cowl of nocturnal, mostly because I wanted to revisit it and see if I can give it a more fair shot than I did last time. But honestly, if a quest mod doesn't require using plants and mentions you being dragonborn, you could probably use that instead.) After helgen and fighting his first dragon, he tries to understand what being dragonborn means. His biggest motivation for the main questline would probably be something along the lines of thinking of his family and home. (If you want, you can also include followers and say they were destined to fight alongside you. I'm of course using auri but also my man inigo.)
Arc 2, belonging: throughout most of the playthrough, Randal would wonder if he, as a nord, truly deserves his place in his family and home. They treat him as one of his own. But he wonders if he could ever truly consider himself a real part of the family and village. He may be treated by them like he's one of them. But he is not bosmer, even though he cares little for his race. At least not the hateful storm cloaks and their racist fanatics. (If you want to play the civil war questline, though I doubt he'd care much for the politics, he's more likely to side with imperials. But I'll try to remember to include quest choices later.)
Arc 3, fear and vengeance: Randal still fears his uncle. So hearing that he is in skyrim gave him quite a panic. But Randal knows if he doesn't fight chantir, he could provide further danger to his family and others. He can't take that chance. It has to end (for chantir, there's a little bonus boss in the mod bosmer armor pack, he's called the champion of the hunt. Just say he's you're evil uncle.) But he must be ready to take on him. (For giving an edge, I'm using the green pact armor set mod. It also has really good weapons. Be sure to search in the falkreath hold for ghost deer called spirits of yffre. The nature's incense items you get from them are used to get the stuff. Hopefully you'll also get yffres bones which are used to temper the items. Try to think of it as yffres test of worthiness. Speaking of yffre I'm also using wintersun ae edition and the bosmeri yffre patch for worship.)
Restrictions (oh boy): as a follower of the green pact and someone who is disgusted by the use of things like firewood. Randal refuses to touch anything made of wood (hunterborn and the auri mod are good for bone arrows. Using campfire to sleep outside of towns for refusal to sleep on wooden beds. Until you can find a way to get a non wooden bow though, you'll have to stick to melee. Unless you want to get the green pact set early on which should be fine.) Which also includes alchemy. Since Randal doesn't trust drinking potions he relies on his food and drink for health and stamina recovery (probably one of the most important mods for this playthrough for this reason is ineed. Be sure to use ineed continue and ineed extended. Turn on the cannibal option but also important is the restoration option. Don't worry though, if you harvest enough "meat" from your enemies you'll have more food than you know what to do with. So food as a substitute might not be as harsh as you think because of just how much you get. In fact, you should also go to hunterborn settings and choose scrawny meat and materials abundancy. Otherwise it gets too much. The combat mods I hope to list further down should help keep it from being trivial though.) Also since Randal is not the biggest fan of other nords, be sure not to use any bonuses given to nords. The frost resistance sadly can't be helped. But if you're using any racial overhauls that might provide some Nordic abilities, you can't use them.
Quest choices:
Daedric quests: as a worshipper of yffre. Randal is not likely to be so eager to aid the likes of molag bal, peyrite, or mehrunes degone, and especially not hircine after his traumatic experience. Which leads me to...
Companions: Randal can smell the werewolves on them. He does not want to join the companions. Not only because of his past but also because becoming a werewolf would violate the green pact (needed to do a bit of research to find that out. Figure I'd be honest, as embarrassing as it is. But if you want you can install the mod for joining the silver hand. I can't quite recall the name. If it's just join the silver hand or dawn of the silver hand I'm unsure. But I opted out of using it this time because I'm not yet sure if for me anyway, if Randal would choose to cure the companions or wipe them out.)
Dawnguard: seeing as to how becoming a vampire lord would probably violate the green pact as well and Randal would prefer to not go to coldharbour among other reasons, he is more likely to stay with the dawnguard. (If you don't want to use the auri mod, serana dialogue add on could be another option. She drinks her enemies sure. But you might still relate to that part of her and understand it more. I haven't used sda for this playthrough though so I'm not sure how well it'd work in this case.)
College of winterhold: Randal is not very skilled in magic. So although he'd likely enjoy learning and education, he'd probably just get the information on the elder scrolls and go. Hopefully the scrolls aren't actually made of paper, ew (if you do want to do the questline and have some magic though, make sure it is conjuration and illusion, no destruction or restoration and little alteration. Also for conjuration only use spells for summoning animals and other spells of that sort. The druid mod seems to work well for me so far though I didn't use the spells this playthrough. When you're done with the staff of magnus, store it somewhere immediately or give it to a follower if you wish. But don't keep it on you. Right after you become arch mage pray to yffre for forgiveness for using such a thing.)
Thieves guild: yes but only if you have the mod no to nocturnal or a mod where you don't have to swear yourself to her. If you have the mod, go for it. (Though not required, I recommend thieves night on the town so you don't spend an eternity doing the different jobs to become guild master. Just thought I'd save you the trouble.)
Also be sure to use true hunter so there isn't a wild animal to fight every 5 steps. For extra adventure I used caves of morrowind and train fight. I also have it beats for her. The quest mods I mentioned aren't a requirement. Just something to think about adding for more content for the playthrough. But true hunter is a must. If you use alternate start live another life, I recommend using the attacked and left for dead start. Especially if you have inigo installed. For animations I'm using gdbs impossible animations jh. But now for the meat and anything but potatoes...
Combat: trust me, it's necessary, otherwise without these mods gameplay is trivial, even when relying only on food to heal. Thanks again to those who helped me with these recommendations. So here it goes...
Skyrim revamped loot and encounter
Skyrim revamped loot and encounter summermyst patch (I currently have Summermyst plus)
Fatality
Fatality damage plugin
Fatality mage movement
Know your enemy aio
Know your enemy aio Fatality patch
Skyrim revamped complete enemy overhaul
Skyrim revamped rebalanced and releveled
Lawless lite
Randal prefers to use a bow but also dual wields daggers or short blades. He's not a fan of clunky and slow. So he'll also use light armor and avoid two handed. He can Smith well enough but he's no master. Enchanting I'll leave up to you. Obviously more points go to health and stamina than magicka.
There we have it I think. Anything I might have missed? Anything that can be improved? I look forward to reading what you have to say!

WPA – A Completely Average Roadtrip
Disclaimer: Not canon, and I don’t use patreon so please don’t spoil me. Also, any opinion held by a character is that of the characters and not my own. Enjoy.
Town of Ljosalfington, local time 14:00, week 7
Emma Booker
“Again Illunor, I warned you before that this is a utility vehicle, not a party rated smart-limo. I am already compromising more than I should by allowing you to use the sample cooler as a minifridge, one which I can’t even use!” I said as I loaded the materials I had just purchased into the back of the high-G All terrain fusion-ethanol-electric hybrid 24th-century legacy pickup truck that I had printed out earlier this week, carefully avoiding the heavy ordinance hard point.
“That is hardly an excuse for that abysmally cramped leg space barely fit for cattle, never mind the bare minimum for standard decorum suitable for nobility. If this is what a car is like, then I don’t see why you care for your technology,” complained Illunor, who was sitting around idly with a malformed garish bowl of icecream that he had stashed away from lunch.
“If it bothers you so much, perhaps you could help next time with your ‘bigger-on-the-inside’ magic,” I retorted as I slid the last core sample into the back before covering it up with a tarp and strapping it down.
I had originally planned to visit Ljosalfington by myself to acquire much needed exo-materials to test various mana manipulator configurations as I worked to develop my first wand as not all of the materials I needed were procurable locally from Elaseer. I eventually yielded, much to my regret, to allowing Illunor to come with me as he insisted on wanting to deliver a letter personally in town after Thacea had pointed out the wisdom of not travelling alone.
We continued our back and forth for a bit yet as I finished securing my payload a voice called out to me from the direction of the town.
“Excuse me a moment, I couldn’t help but notice but are you from the academy?”
I turned to see an elf dressed in a plain brown buttoned up tunic matched by a slightly shabby pair of trousers with what appeared to be a lute upon his back and a plain and unenchanted longsword on his belt gesturing at our robes. Mine especially were new and unusual, tailored by the academy to go over my armour and allow access to the anchor points and allow me to exit my armour with minimal hassle. Illunor scoffed at what was evidently a commoner’s arrogance at approaching nobility and turned his head away in disgust. I glanced at Illunor and shook my head before turning to face the new man. I had time to spare, and any opportunity to engage in a hearts-and-minds dialogue with the locals outside the bounds of the managed environment of the academy was more than worth the time to chat. Especially as most of the other locals seemed to be content in ignoring me.
“Yes, we are currently studying at the Transgracian Academy. I am Cadet Emma Booker representing the United Nations of Earth and Luna from Earthream, and my aloof compatriot is Lord Illunor Rularia of the Vunerian courts. We were just about to head back but are in no rush. May I ask your name and what brings you by?” I asked with my hand outstretched in greeting.
“Ah yes, yes. My name is Edhel Redoehdelnif, a wandering bard by trade like my father and his father before him. My apologies, Cadet Emma Booker, I am unfamiliar with Earthrealm,” said Edhel as he grasped my hand with both of his and shook it tepidly yet vigorously. Or rather, tried to, as the motors on my suit resisted his efforts.
“News doesn’t seem to spread all that fast around here, so it makes sense you haven’t heard of us. We’re a new realm, and only just got here. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Edhel Redoehdelnif,” I replied.
“Absolutely fascinating! And a knight no less, or perhaps a squire? I’m sure you have many stories to tell of Earthrealm. Say, by chance are you about to head back to the academy? I have business in Elaseer and the usual coach has been absent as of late so I would rather not go it alone,” said Edhel.
I was hesitant to bring a stranger back in the car with me, even if Illunor was present. However, the opportunity that meeting a bard presented was too good to pass up from an intel perspective and to win the favour of the populace at large.
“That is a great idea. I think I have room for one more…” I paused before gesturing towards Illunor, “provided everyone is ok with it that is.”
Illunor gave a huff and turned his head away in silence.
“Very well, I will allow this. But he will not be joining me in your sorry excuse for a coach,” said Illunor dismissively.
Illunor approached the backseat expectantly and the door opened for him automatically, allowing the dlc kobold to gracefully enter and lounge across the length of the seats, once again ignoring the seatbelts. I sighed as I made my way to the driver’s seat, and Edhel entered from the passenger side as he marveled at the automatic doors and the interior.
“What a strange carriage this is! Although I must say, shouldn’t you be retrieving your horses? I didn’t see any harnesses or sense any artifices,” inquired Edhel as he attempted to make himself comfortable on the car seat, lute in front of him.
“Oh no, this thing doesn’t need horses or magic,” I said with a chuckle as EVI started the car. The elf raised his eyebrows at the sudden hum of the engine and made an expression of alarm when the car started driving itself without my input. “See, purrs like a kitten.”
“Earthrealm must have some large kittens if they purr like that,” noted Edhel, “but you must be concealing the enchantments somewhere. Such a thing as this with such strange yet precise craftsmanship is only possible in the crownlands.”
“Nope, no magic,” I said cheerfully.
“Then how?” Asked Edhel.
“It’s rather simple really. Are you familiar with the workings of a mill?” I asked, deciding to keep things surface level and elementary to avoid provoking the IDOV threshold.
“Somewhat, though I confess to not being familiar with their workings. Are you suggesting this is akin to a mill?” Asked Edhel perplexed.
“It’s the same principal. A mill works by taking a source of rotation such as a waterwheel or windmill, transferring that rotation along a series of rotating shafts and interlocking gears, and finally putting that energy to work by rotating a millstone,” I began as the car pulled out onto the smooth cobbled road in the direction of Elaseer. A notification popped up in the corner of my vision indicating my recon drone swarm had shifted from a holding formation to a convoy screening formation, and while the roads were clear I kept the speed at 60km/h to account for my passenger’s apparent distaste for seatbelts.
“Rotation…” muttered Edhel. He turned to face one of the wheels and EVI pinged an alert for a probable match for a detection spell, “fascinating.”
“Edhel, what are you doing?” I asked.
“Oh, yes, perhaps I should have asked first. Yes, I can see how it all fits together. But the source of this rotation? I see no mighty river or great wind to power this, so where does it come from?” Asked Edhel, not really apologizing. Elven arrogance, it seemed, was not limited by class.
The act reminded me of Sorecar when he inspected my gun, but where the armourer had been respectful with it, Edhel was more flippant. I considered the possibility that he was a spy sent by one of her peers or the crownlands, though this did not mesh with the methods I had seen so far. Edhel may have been just overly enthusiastic. In either case, I quickly decided to only reveal the antique design for the ethanol engine, and not that of the batteries or the emergency coupler to my suit’s fusion reactor.
“Right, well please ask first next time. As to your question, I won’t bore you with the details, but the rotation is generated by creating a periodic sequence of explosions inside of a machine – a manaless artifice – called a combustion engine, said Emma.
“So that’s what that sound is…” pondered Edhel, “are these artifices typical in Earthream?”
“You are awfully inquisitive for a commoner,” noted Illunor as he inspected his nails for dirt, “and rather accepting of something which should be impossible.”
“I wouldn’t be much of a bard if I wasn’t, my lord,” said Edhel shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “perhaps some music might set the mood better?”
“That would be preferable, bard. I have heard enough of the Earthrealmer’s Road Trip Playlist and would like to listen to some music of real culture,” said Illunor.
The bard agreed and proceeded to awkwardly play a ballad about an adventurer who slew a hydra in some frozen wasteland. Partway through, I politely interrupted the Edhel to point out the seat controls much to his fascination and Illunor’s grumbling at their common nature, and after some adjustment the bard went on playing and I half-heartedly listened while I paid attention to the road and my drone feed.
Particularly after EVI detected something unusual and alerted me to its presence.
”Attention Caded Booker. There is a disabled vehicle blocking the primary route to destination. Heat signatures in the woods are consistent with that of an ambush.”
“Damn it,” I muttered.
I glanced at the drone feed to see a broken cart strewn horizontally across a wooden bridge over a brook. On the surface it looked like a pair of civilians who required aid and assistance, but off in the woods were several heat signatures, several of which held weapons of varying levels of enchantments. Occasionally one of the pair on the bridge would talk with them, suggesting they were in cahoots rather than hostages. I recalled crossing that very bridge not a few hours earlier, so the blockade was very recent.
“EVI, did we pass that cart on the way here?” I asked.
”Negative,” replied EVI.
I grimaced. I had been trained to handle road-side ambushes, but it was only something that was a theoretical possibility. Something that should only occur in a warzone or a corrupt and unstable polity. I knew I had the capacity to handle such an encounter, even non-lethally, but that didn’t change the fact that these were civilians and as such were the responsibility of local law enforcement. Combined with the fact that I had passengers I was responsible for and engaging the ambush was a risky option.
“EVI, give me a list of alternative routes,” I commanded.
”Affirmative. Here is a list of routes in order of recommendation,” replied EVI.
I looked over the routes superimposed on a map of the region and quickly dismissed taking a shortcut through the forest and cutting through farmland. A detour caught my eye that extended the journey by roughly ten kilometers and I immediately sent a pair of drones to scout it out before committing to the detour.
“Are you alright, Cadet Emma Booker? You seem distracted,” asked Edhel, snapping me back to reality.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just focused on driving,” replied Emma.
“I suppose it must be quite taxing to command an artificed carriage of this complexity. Perhaps it might ease your mind if you were to regale me a tale of a hero of your realm?” Said Edhel, strumming a complex tune from his lute as he spoke as each and every pluck triggered a low-level spell.
“Well, that may be a problem. We don’t have any monsters to fight, and wars are a thing of the past,” I said while desperately tip-toeing the subject of aunt Ran, the subject of war, and our voyages through the cosmos, “though we are not without the adventurous spirit. We certainly have many stories of grand voyages. Some mythical and fictional such as The Odyssey as told by the Greek poet Homer and some historical such as the race to the south pole.”
“The south pole,” muttered the bard, “so you have explored all of Earthrealm then? I suppose that makes some sense, if you have artifices such as this then traversal of a globe would be quite manageable.”
“You are quite perceptive,” I said, not wishing to elaborate.
“A great performer knows his audience,” said Edhel with a charming, honest, almost human smile.
I felt a pang of homesickness as an intrusive thought reminded me that I could have gone to a real college surrounded by friendly faces my age, engaging in nightly holostreams and dreaming of adventures in the stars from the safety of a college dorm room. The sight of Illunor in the rear camera was the only thing that kept me grounded, as I almost felt like I was back at home on a road trip rather than returning to a fantasy feudal court, constantly evading death at every turn with the fate of humanity on the line. As such, and prompted by EVI, I barely had the wherewithal to take the planned detour.
A fact which did not pass by Edhel.
“I believe you may have taken a wrong turn, Emma,” he commented.
“Nah, I’m just taking the scenic route. I came from that direction on the way here, and you have inspired me to see the other road and I figure it should only add a few extra minutes to our travel time,” I said, gesturing at a paper map which I had referenced exactly once, “though on that subject, you seem to know these lands quite well. Do you have any recommendations on places to visit in the Nexus to scratch that itch?”
Illunor raised his eyebrow at the detour excuse, knowing full well this was not part of the plan. I worried that he might complain about the issue and but thankfully remained silent as he snacked on the contents of the misused sample storage unit. Edhel himself took on a more pensive posture.
“I’m happy to have been such an inspiration, Emma, though I am sure an explorer such as yourself has little need of such. I would normally suggest the skyward fountains of Verdellan or the cloud tides of Asturia, but that may be too casual for someone of your calibre. Perhaps the severed chasm or the fire marsh of Bhandahova may be more to your liking. Or perhaps…” Edhel leaned in, “I have heard rumours of a dragon in the glassy obsidian wastes of Vurcanar.”
I chuckled at that, knowing how I was fortunate enough to fish a dragon scale out of the nearby lake for the ECS. “The thought of going dragon hunting had certainly crossed my mind…” I mused aloud.
“Yet you sound hesitant. Perhaps it is too much for a newrealmer. Perhaps a slime or a dire rat might be more appropriate,” he said with a tease.
“No, it’s not like that! It’s” I stammered, before attempting to change course after realizing I had been goaded, “what I mean is, I was under the impression that dragons were an endangered species. Where I come from, hunting endangered animals is usually illegal, and big game hunting in general is frowned upon. We do make exceptions in the case of problem animals such as if a large predator starts hunting humans, but as a rule we prefer conservation and try to find ways of coexisting with wildlife such as the use of barrier fences and scaring away dangerous animals rather than being forced to cull their numbers. Having a species go extinct would prevent future generations from appreciating them and risks destabilizing the ecosystem they are a part of. Now if this dragon was actively razing villages and eating civilians and livestock, that would be one thing, but this does not look to be the case. I don’t imagine the Nexus has any settlements in this wasteland, and the dragon clearly wants to be left alone. Killing an innocent dragon would be murder.”
I grinned to myself after delivering a diatribe that would have made my tenth grade social and environmental studies teacher beam with pride, though by the expressions of my passengers my view did not appear to be shared. Edhel’s mouth was agape in shock and fascination, while the Venurian in the back seat merely huffed in disapproval.
“I assure you Newrealmer, there are no innocent dragons,” stated Illunor with a hint of terseness breaking through his otherwise regal demeanor.
“Illunor, I understand that Venurians have personal reasons for not liking dragons, but you can’t just extend that disdain to their descendants or those uninvolved just because they are the same species,” I said.
“If I may interject on your behalf, my lord, I believe I can address Cadet Emma Booker’s concerns,” said Edhel with a bow. Illunor nodded in approval.
“Very well, you may proceed,” he said.
“Thank you, my lord. My dear Emma, you must understand that dragons are not simple animals driven entirely off of instinct as it appears to be the case in Earthrealm. They are monsters. Intelligent, long-lived, violent, greedy, cruel, territorial, selfish flesh-eating monsters. They are evil by the very nature of their being, unable to change by their own accord, and unwilling to change when His Eternal Majesty offered them freedom from their nature. It isn’t that they want to be evil. As intelligent animals – intelligent monsters – dragons are capable of understanding morality, and many have tried to overcome their evil nature at great expense to themselves. A well intended and noble sentiment, yet a doomed one as like all animals, they all succumb to their nature in the end. Overcoming one’s nature is impossible,” said Edhel. His eyes took on a stoic, almost remorseful gaze as he spoke, and Illunor nodded with approval.
I was appalled by this claim, not by the contents so much as how blatantly false it was. As a representative of the human race, I was a living counterexample to his whole argument. We had remained physiologically unchanged as a species since the last Ice Age, and yet in spite of that, in spite of our many flaws, we had found peace and balance. If we could do it, anyone could do it.
“Will all due respect Edhel, that is nonsense. Monsters aren’t born, they are made. It is the mark of any intelligent species can adapt their behaviour to their environment for better or worse, and under the right care any so-called monster can grow to be a force for good,” I began, but while I searched for the right words Edhel shook his head.
“I appreciate your race is an empathetic one, Emma, your idealism is unfounded. As flesh eaters, a dragon must take the life of another animal or person to survive, or they will perish. As such, every dragon has taken a life. As long-lived creatures, they will have amassed a significant number of kills. As the land can only support so much animals, a dragon must be fiercely territorial and aggressive to remove competition, lest they starve. As such, even the most kind-hearted dragon alive must be violent and greedy, and their intelligence fuels this even more so if they know a bountiful land of morsels exists just outside their range.
Now perhaps a multitude of dragons may find a way to co-exist together in some settlement, but to support such a venture would require a large territory of prey, or a livestock animal. Perhaps they could support a large colony by farming grain for their livestock, but that would require effort on their behalf. As large animals, such efforts require a great deal of energy. Yet that size makes it easy for them to intimidate smaller races to do their labour for them, and to keep their client race in line dragons must be cruel. And even so, as their numbers grow so do their needs. As such, they must expand into the lands of their neighbours to survive until there is nothing left to devour, at which point they must turn against their own lest they starve. As such, it is the nature of dragons to conquer and devour. That is why there is no such thing as an innocent dragon,” finished Edhel.
I was speechless, not because I believed Edhel had a point, but because I was horrified at how easy he found it to rationalize the extermination of an entire sapient species. If this was how the elves thought, then it wasn’t the dragons who were the monsters. I suppressed that dark thought. Edhel’s thought process was a product of his culture, not a feature of his elven heritage. If there was any hope of peace between our people, I needed to show him there was another way of being. I needed to prove that co-existence was possible, no matter one’s nature.
I took a deep breath to steady myself before replying.
“That- that is a callous way of seeing things,” I began, though the shock was still there in my voice, “you speak as though there is no natural equilibrium with a dragon, that their only state of being must be to be cruel, to devour, to conquer. But I see things differently. In fact, I might wonder if a fledgling civilization might see the presence of a dragon as a boon rather than a curse. Being intelligent, the locals may be able to come to some agreement with the dragon. Perhaps they might leave some land as a hunting ground or offer up a share of their cattle or guard the dragon as it sleeps. In exchange, the dragon might allow them to build a town outside its mountain and protect them in times of danger. An equitable exchange. A civilization might even create artificial lairs to attract dragons for this very reason. True, some dragons may behave tyrannical towards their town, but a well armed populace of a large city would be more than capable of fighting such a threat, and a rational dragon might reason that threatening their own populace would put their reliable source of food and shelter at risk. You see, it’s all a matter of perspective.”
“You certainly are an imaginative one, Emma, to wonder up a quixotic world where the hare and the fox live together in harmony as equals. Even so, you seem to have ignored one key detail to such a society. What would happen should the dragon not be fed for months on end?” Asked Edhel with his eyebrow raised.
“The same thing as stranded a dozen starving, stranded Elves!” I spat back.
[Alert: Vehicle speed above recommended limit for conditions. Recommendation: slow down. ]
“I am driving slow!” I seethed, not realizing I had sped up with manual control enabled.
“I grow tired of this common prattle,” interjected Illunor just in time to prevent an awkward silence, “bard, play us another song.” “As my lord wishes,” said Edhel with a bow before turning to me with another smile, “perhaps a more soothing melody would be in order? A love song perhaps, to honour Cadet Booker’s compassionate nature?”
I said nothing as Edhel began to strum his lute again to the tune of a love story of a pair of doomed lovers named Ramian and Junette, hating his cheeky knowing grin that only served to get under my skin further as I focused on calming down and slowing the car back to a more reasonable pace before investigating a priority alert which I had been blinded to moments prior.
[Alert: hostile roadblock is absent, location unknown.]
Shit.
“Illunor, we may have a problem,” I said.
“Shush, Newrealmer, have you no class? We are almost at the best part! I’m sure it can wait,” replied the contextually clueless lizard.
I had never wanted to throttle Illunor as much as I did now.
“Illunor, shield, now,” I said with a raised voice.
“I don’t see-“ he started, pausing mid-sentence as his ears perked up.
[Alert: Multiple manafield and spell signatures detected!]
I took evasive maneuvers as Illunor tried to piece together a shield spell, fumbling it twice as panic appeared to set in and providing me with a reminder that Illunor was a civilian, not a soldier. A hail of arrows pelted the exterior of the truck, piercing but not penetrating the composite armour. I was tempted to do nothing but just drive away from the arrow fire, but a foreboding premonition of danger filled me as I recalled Sorecar’s hunter-seeker arrows.
Seeking to avoid that fate, I triggered the active defenses.
The smoke screens deployed around the vehicle, obscuring the sight of any who depended on visible light to see me. A barrage of decoy flares equipped with wooden cores shot upward at angles and diffusing to the side like a pair of giant wings which when combined with the MFD, short for mana-field dampener, inside the vehicle meant that the pelting hail of arrowfire softened to a whirr as the arrows whiffed over the top of the truck, retargeted away from the soft flesh of my passengers and even invoking friendly fire amongst the ambushers.
In the chaos, EVI and my drone swarm fed me complete tactical information on the ambush. Of the 26 individuals at the first blockade, 20 were accounted for, and 3 had died from friendly fire. Ahead at the bridge, 5 more of them were at the bridge where a barrier had been hastily erected to cage me in as the river valley was too deep to cross.
“Illunor, we need a bridge,” I said, taking stock of the wellbeing of my passengers.
The bard was huddled down low and suppressing his manafield, but otherwise rather composed. Illunor, on the other hand, was cowering in the gap between the seats with his hands covering his eyes and his tail tucked in.
“A bridge is no small request, Ne- Cadet Emma Booker,” replied Illunor, “and your ‘Emeffdee’ has blinded me to the outside of this moving death trap.”
“If I drop it, can you at least make a ramp?” I asked as I circled the battlefield. Or tried to, at least, as earthen ramparts emerged from the ground from a yet unseen source to cut off other avenues of escape.
“A ramp? Surely you don’t mean-“ he stammered.
“Yes or no,” I said.
Illunor paused, before taking an unsteady breath.
“Yes. But not with that Emeffdee,” he replied.
“Good. Steady your nerves and prepare to make a ramp ahead of us on my signal,” I said, “in the meantime, get your seatbelt on. This is going to be hairy.”
As I circled around to make my approach on the bridge, the final combatant made his appearance on a nearby tree, revealing himself as an elven mage. An alert focused on the air around him indicating he was preparing an unknown high-tier spell, and I locked the predator drone on him indicating the elf as a high-priority target if our escape plan failed, and I was forced to use lethal force.
If I was forced to kill.
It was one thing to know you may have to kill in the line of duty, but it was much harder to reconcile that with reality. No number of simulations could match the real thing, and a part of me wanted to simply offload the responsibility to EVI to keep my hands clean, but to do that would be betraying my duty as a human being. I breathed in deep and tried not to think about it, instead hoping to rely on the ace I held in my sleeve instead.
“EVI, ready the spell jammer,” I said unevenly.
“Acknowledged, the prototype Exo-Radiation Wave-Field Distruptor is primed. High risk target identified and locked, permission to engage?” EVI asked, forcing me to address the dreaded question.
“Negative,” I replied, “hold your fire. If the ramp fails, then you have permission to engage,” I said.
“Affirmative, on your mark,” replied EVI.
I lined up the truck with the bridge and bolted through the smoke, keeping a careful eye on the mage as I went. His spellform took on a more concerning shape as I accelerated, and I realized I could not afford to let him finish his spell. I triggered the spelljammer.
A terrible roar erupted from an array of speakers printed from mana-resistant materials that would have made Godzilla herself beam with pride. The sound was decidedly unnatural, gnarly, dubstep drop composed of an electric eel, a whale, a mountain lion, and a tyrannosaurus rex all being simultaneously assaulted by a swarm of angry cybernetic murder hornets as an equally chaotic wave of mana blasted outwards from the exterior of the truck, with the interior thankfully sheltered by audio and mana dampening.
The ambushing assailants cowered and panicked, and it was enough to cause the Elven mage’s spell to backfire in his face as his form exploded into ashes, meeting a horrific fate which I had tried so desperately to help him avoid. With all the combatants momentarily incapacitated or dead, I lowered the dampener and turned off the smoke.
“Ramp!” I shouted, snapping the lizard back to reality.
The Venerian nodded and hastily formed an earthwork ahead of us right before the blockade, and the truck leapt off the ramp with a not insignificant amount of air beneath our wheels. I braced for impact, regretting skimping on the shocks in the name of preserving materials, but the impact never came.
[Alert: Friendly spell designated ‘Feather Fall’]
Illunor thankfully had enough wherewithal to gently land the steel brick, and I sped off into the distance away from the trap that had unfolded behind us, leaving the interior of the truck in an awkward silence as we each processed our brush with death in our own way. “How many are dead?” I asked EVI.
“6 hostiles confirmed dead,” replied EVI.
I drove on in silence. Those were six deaths I had tried to avoid, and I became lost in thought as I wondered what I should have done differently to avoid the confrontation entirely.
Edhel broke the silence with a bout of laughter.
“Terrific! Absolutely terrific! Why, I can conjure up many a tale from this encounter alone! I live for this kind of inspiration!” Exclaimed Edhel a little too chipperly considering the circumstance.
“I would rather not hear stories about how I bravely ran away,” I moaned in deadpan sarcasm.
“You think too little of yourself, Cadet Emma Booker. It is plain to me that you are no ordinary rabbit. Make no mistake, I see it as a privilege to bear witness to the roar of a vorpal hare!” Said Edhel as he supressed his laughter, “though I am afraid with all the excitement that I must finish my song some other time.”
“How about I play some of our music?” I offered after the elf revealed his thrill-seeking side.
“Splendid, I would like that. Perhaps something of your ‘Roadtrip playlist’ you speak of? It sounds like a collection of your voyages,” said Edhel.
“That would be an improvement on the truth,” said Illunor dismissively as he eased from his state of shock, “it is little more than noise under the pretense of music.”
“Illunor…” I muttered to myself before turning the mic on, “no, no it’s not like that. I have terabytes of pre-recorded songs from various artists back home which can be played by… an artifice called a speaker. A playlist is a set of songs which are grouped together, usually to listen to in specific situations such as studying, partying, or travelling. The latter collection is what Illunor is referring to.”
I very deliberately chose not to reveal my ‘Unfortunate Daughters’ playlist.
“An artifice which plays music, and a magicless one at that. I must say, Emma, I fear for the bards in your realm,” said Edhel with a laugh.
“Your fear is misplaced, Edhel. Entertainers live like kings where I come from,” I retorted with a smirk of my own, “well, the ones with talent at least.”
“Well, well, I suppose I have to hear my competition!” Said Edhel with a laugh.
“Do as you must, though let it be known that I warned you,” said Illunor as he watched a play on his sightseer.
I had EVI compile a list of songs that left out content offensive to Nexian sensibilities or violating OpSec and as it compiled I mused over what type of sample spread I wanted to show off. Then it struck me. What better way to show off our culture than with some good old blue jumpers and nova rock! Sadly, jumpers were unavailable to show but I still had a whole list of modern artists to choose from.
Moments later, the car speakers sprung to life to the tune of ‘Innocent Youth of Mine. Edhel’s eyes lit up like a child visiting a zero-g gravity park for the first time, seemingly star-struck by the antique electric guitar and the synthesizer-drums in particular.
“What… what is this? I have never heard anything like this!” Proclaimed Edhel.
“Dreadful, isn’t it?” said Illunor, doing what he did best and pretending to hate it.
“Oh there is a lot more where that came from,” I said with a cheeky grin of my own, “this one is called ‘Innocent Youth of Mine’ by ‘Cannons and Poppies’. It’s part of the Nova Rock genre.
“And those strange instruments?” Asked Edhel.
“Oh, you mean the electric guitar and the synthesizer. They are electronic instruments, taking advantage of channeled and modulated electricity to create near any sound we can imagine,” I replied.
“Channeled electricity… are you suggesting these sounds were made by some form of lightning?” Asked Edhel.
[Suggestion: Avoid topic of electricity due to OpSec risk]
I nodded at EVI’s warning, thankful that it caught me before I discussed the very thing that all of my equipment ran on.
“It’s not exactly lightning, but close enough,” I said.
“If I had not witnessed to your display of power earlier, I might have perhaps been more skeptical of such a claim, but I suppose a lady must keep her secrets.” said Edhel with a raised eyebrow and chuckle, “but I digress, this music is most interesting.”
“There is a lot more where that came from,” I said with a cheeky grin of my own.
“If I ever have a prisoner in need of torture, I will turn to you first,” replied Illunor, “if you are willing to subject your peers to this madness then I cannot imagine what you would force upon your enemies before dunking them in ice.”
“In your dreams,” I retorted.
I played a few other songs including Astrodesee’s ‘Meteor Struck’, the Martian classic ‘Hotel Cydonia’ and even ‘Switching to Warp’ before Elaseer emerged from the distance, and I pulled up outside the gate to drop Edhel off.
“Here already?” Asked Edhel.
“Well, yeah. I was just running a quick errand, I didn’t want to go too far,” I replied casually.
“That was a distance worth at least five days of walking by foot, and you call that a ‘quick errand’?” Asked Edhel. I shrugged, and he laughed.
“Well in any case, thank you for allowing me passage in your car. I must apologize for my lack of gift or payment…” said Edhel. “Don’t worry about it, it was on the way,” I replied.
“I see, how generous. Perhaps we might one day meet again?” Asked Edhel.
“Maybe, but I’m not sure how likely that is. The academy takes up most of my time,” I replied, “though you never know. I still have a lot of quest hours to complete.”
“Is that so? In that case, I hope we meet again! Goodbye Cadet Emma Booker and farewell Lord Illunor Rularia,” he said. “And good travels to you, bard,” said Illunor.
I waved off Edhel and drove back to the academy, Illunor still sulking in the back seat.
“Perhaps next time, you should steer us away from danger?” Suggested Illunor.
“I tried, but we were tracked,” I replied.
I groaned inwardly at the additional work needed to fix the truck. EVI compiled a list of upgrades for future engagements, batting away my idea for a ‘turbo mode’ and a ‘jump boost’. Though at the end of the day, meeting the bard wasn’t a complete loss. It felt good to talk to someone almost normal for once, and I hoped I met him again.
Edhel Redoehdelnif
I watched as Cadet Emma Booker’s vehicle went off into the distance, getting one last look at the Earthrealmer’s strange artifice before turning towards the gate. The voyage was an exotic experience, not unlike that of a fever dream or a peak into a world completely alien to my own. Indeed, it was a struggle to contain my excitement and enthusiasm and process the experience rationally as I made my way through the southern gates of Elaseer and turned the corner of an alley before entering an impossible structure that did not exist.
“You are earlier than expected,” said the shadowy figure of my handler as I made my way to the meeting hall.
“The Earthrealmer’s means of transportation proved far more expedient than anticipated, my lord” I spoke as I knelt before him, “even with her unexpected departure from the anticipated road and the ambush we traveled for scantly more than an hour.”
“Yes, I will require a full report from you. Perhaps you can shed some light on the ‘smoke dragon’ my men claim intervened on the Earthrealmer’s behalf,” said my handler.
“Smoke Dragon, my lord?” I asked.
My handler responded by activating his sight-seer, revealing how the ambush had appeared from the outside. The Earthrealmer’s uncanny artifice traversed down the road, a pair of manafields displaying proudly from within until the archers began their assault. The artifice then transformed as smoke billowed out from its pores and wings sprung forth above until it was the form of a mighty wrym with a pair of glowing eyes springing forth from its ever extending head where it then gave forth a terrible unholy roar which sent waves of mana outward. The mage working to seal the area and trap their mark vapourized in an instant as his spell backfired. It was apparent to Edhel that his exceptional experience in the carriage was merely a muted rendition of the events unfolding around them.
It would seem the hare had the shadow of a dragon.
“I do have some insight, though I must confess the Earthrealmer did very little in the way of direct action. I suspect she has some unseen means of commanding and scrying through her artifices,” I said, “one which does not utilize magic as we know it.”
“Such a statement is heresy,” said my handler, “but such special circumstances are your reason for being. I will require you submit your memories for verification. What is your appraisal of the new realmer?”
“The girl is far more dangerous than a surface appraisal would suggest, though she prefers to conceal that power rather than utilize it out of a misplaced sense of compassion. Her people appear to have a boundless creative drive through which such artifices are birthed, though again it is misdirected towards more common applications. I believe that if properly tamed, this human animal may provide us with great works of art,” I said with a bow.
“I see. Does the girl know you work for us?” Asked my handler.
“She may harbour some suspicions, though did not voice them outright beyond concealing her knowledge,” I said, “though nothing significant. Provided our next meet is under believable circumstances such as a festival she should view me as cordial.”
“She has indeed proven clever,” conceded my handler, “very well, I will make arrangements for your paths to cross again. Perhaps I will arrange for her to be a contestant at the next inter-academy tournament. In the mean time, prepare your report and don’t wander far. This is a priority assignment.”
“As you wish, my lord,” I said with a bow and a smile.
Emma Booker had proved to be an interesting animal indeed, and I hoped our paths crossed again.

A couple months back some Chinese food was mistakenly delivered to my house in the NE heights, near constitution and Eubank. I wasn’t home when it happened but I checked the doorbell cam and sure enough, a doordash driver plops it on my patio. I’m a broke bitch and it wasn’t long before I got home and found the food, checked the cameras, weighed the risks and decided to take the plunge. Now let me tell you. This was some of the best Chinese food I’ve had in my life! There was absolutely no indication of where it was from, no receipts or anything on the bag. All I can say is that I must have this food again. I dream of it. I’m hoping I can describe what I had and maybe someone knows of a place that serves something similar. There were two dishes- the first one was maybe a sweet and sour or sesame chicken. Identifying characteristics: it was breaded/battered and CRISPY. Even with the sauce, and I had it for leftovers after it was in the fridge for a day, the crisp absolutely remained strong. There were no vegetables in with the chicken either. It was served with a separate plain white rice in one of those classic looking paper folding containers.
The other dish is probably more recognizable because Id never had anything like it. It was suuuuper thin stir fried noodles (think like, angel hair thickness or a bit wider, but thinner than spaghetti) with thin slices of beef or pork, no more than a few mm thick, 1-2cm wide, 5-10 cm long, so pretty small thin pieces. It had maybe a few veggies in there, but not many, maybe just some onions and maybe bok Choi? It was all perfectly seasoned in a perfectly salted, umami sauce that turned everything a reddish-brown.
Containers were white styrofoam boxes that were not divided for multiple items. I remember the soy sauce packet brand they used was not the super common one with the panda bear that most restaurants have, and the chopsticks were also not the super common brand either.
I know this is a long shot but it’s gonna take me a while to try every Chinese place in my area to find this spot, which I will absolutely do.
PS: I’m sorry if this was your food. There was no way I could have gotten it to you, but rest assured it did not go to waste.

Quick summary: yes, it's cheap but heart and talent seemingly come cheap. My full review v
I've heard plenty about this non-equity Shrek tour, albeit AFTER I bought tickets because I saw the advertisement in my theater. I thought about getting a refund in the weeks before the show but in every review, I heard praise for the cast. Also, I've loved this musical for a while so I decided to take a risk and went today.
It was WELL worth it :D
To address the dragon in the room, yes, it's clear the budget wasn't high. If nothing else I say will convince you to try this show at the prices they're asking, you won't hurt my feelings finding another thread. I'll be clear that I hate that the cast and crew don't get pay much in a non-equity performance.
That said, the art direction was nice. I consider it akin to the 1st Toy Story, where the CGI is dated but the art direction still makes it nice to look at (not to mention the story and acting ;) ). There wasn't much in sets but what was there were nice, storybook-like structures and hangings. Nothing like Broadway's but the designers did what they could and succeeded.
I won't defend the Shrek make-up. I could see the edge of the bald cap from my seat (row P, orchestra section) while I can barely see the mesh ear holes in the proshot. That said, I do like the tour Shrek's proportions better; while it looked cool, I thought Broadway covered Brian d'Arcy James in too much padding and latex to make him look like the animated Shrek. You just need a bald head and the ears; Shrek's pretty distinctive :)
On that note, if you're not going with puppetry, it's hard to depict a lot of the characters in Shrek. The Broadway costumes DO look a lost better but the tour costumes did a good job to suggest their characters. Not exactly Tony-winning or Broadway caliber but serviceable (if I had unlimited power for a Shrek revival, comparisons to The Lion King would be apt; not a complete copy of LK's style but certainly puppet heavy like it).
Really, the only bad thing I can say about the tour is that there were a few moments where a cast member's mic isn't turned on in time for a lyric/line. That was annoying, especially during adult Fiona's big intro in "I Know It's Today." Otherwise, there were only a few moments where the mixing was off but it was overall good (and I don't think my theater has the best acoustics).
Now for the unabashedly good :D
The cast was phenomenal. If they agreed with this subreddit that the production was cheap, they didn't let that affect their performance (or it did and they worked harder to compensate). In particular, Nicholas Hambruch, Cecily Dionne Davis, and Naphtali Yaakov Curry as the main trio (Shrek, Fiona, & Donkey respectively) were excellent and up there with both their Broadway and animated counterparts (and the 1st tour that came years ago to the same theater, even if I don't remember their names). Everyone else was excellent. They sang, danced, and acted to the T and deserved every applause and laugh they got. I can't say enough.
Music was good. The six-person band did the show good (not sure if there were prerecorded tracks to make the music fuller). I didn't re-listen to the cast album as I like going to shows as fresh as I can so I can't judge between Broadway and tour arrangements but the tour did the score good.
It's also fun to see how the show evolved from the original version and proshot.
To those use "woke" the same way most people use "f", "s", or "autotune", the changes would drive them crazy. Quite frankly, the changes fit the show and does not hurt it. Heck, you'd only notice them if you're familiar with the proshot and cast album.
The most noticeable is that Farquaad is no longer short and the short jokes are gone. Turns out, Farquaad is still a campy, prima donna that's a hilarious parody of a typical dashing, brave prince. We lose his second song in favor of a brief reprise of "What's Up, Duloc" and his back story that's revealed there. I do miss it and the depth it gave him (even if it turned out to be bull-squirt at the end) but the show isn't really hurt by it.
Also, some songs have preludes with the ensemble acting as narrators/Greek chorus (I enjoy the fact that Shrek is the type of franchise where I have to clarify that I don't mean LITERALLY a Greek chorus :D). Doesn't really add much to the show but not bad changes. Them holding scenic elements does make some moments funnier, particularly the forest animals in "Morning Person" and flowers in "I Think I Got You Beat." The puppets used for the kid versions of Shrek and Fiona were pretty good too (and understandable if they're keeping costs down).
There's 2 lyric changes that I noticed (might be more but I'm not remembering) that were just as good as the original and only stood out because I've heard the cast album so many times. One is that the wolf is not called a hot & tranny mess but now mocked for his fashion sense dressing like a grandma. The other (I remember) is Shrek no longer calls Fiona fat during "When Words Fail" but gets flustered mentioning love. Like I said, more inclusive yet still keeping in spirit with the show.
A major change that I ADORE, and I'm not ashamed to admit it, is Shrek's participation in the "Freak Flag." Broadway's Shrek-less version isn't bad and I do miss "Build A Wall" but Shrek being a part of it means he gets to share in the fairytale creatures' epiphany of accepting yourself. Granted, the subtle approach of the film and Broadway production worked just as well but, if you're gonna make a big showstopper song out of the moral, it works really well including the main character.
We do lose "Don't Let Me Go" and "This Is How A Dream Comes True." It IS a little disappointing but, in fairness, I didn't realize until writing this review that "Don't Let Me Go" was missing and the reprise of "I Know It's Today" isn't a bad replacement (although I do wish "This Is How A Dream Comes True" was kept).
Also no "I'm A Believer" but, again, the tour's budget likely precluded it (being a song not written for the show and only ever used after the curtain call).
In summary, no, I can't defend paying normal tour prices for the less than Broadway/high school production value. However, if you can afford it, you get a production that keeps the Broadway production's heart and humor with updates that doesn't fundamentally change the show's DNA. I know it's disappointing Shrek isn't getting the budget it deserves but this tour proves Shrek is a strong enough show to survive a low budget with good actors/singers.
That said, at least the Broadway version exists as a proshot if my review wasn't persuasive :)
(Added some pics. Im not always comfortable posting my face online so please excuse the edits to my selfies. I think they improvements :P ;). The last 2 pics are of my souvenirs; I like magnets and the pen, a floating pen starring Donkey is cute :D)

TL;DR: PLEASE READ THE LN!!!
I've always had an obsession over manhwa and manga (especially OI), and I was especially intrigued because how polarizing people's opinions were on it. I love my fair share of angst and trauma porn and toxicity, and although I dig through all the webtoon and manga trash out there, even I have lines I don't cross/tolerate, and series I drop. Especially with abusive/toxic couples, shit story, lack of development, lack of realism, lack of respect, misogyny, repetitive tropes, etc. But I always give everything a try (even trashy sexist smuts or Chinese manhuas)
But please I IMPLORE you: give the light novel of [My Beloved Oppressor] a read. The manhwa is great and beautiful, but doesn't do the story as much justice with how many details and emotional nuances that are left out. It's so rushed too.
I just finished and I am clutching my pears, biting my fist, sobbing my eyes out, and screaming.
I came for toxic hot trash and irredeemable black haired MLs and timid FLs to rag on, but actually got pretty hooked and teary from these 20 manhwa chapters. I saw on this reddit a great free place to read quality translations at: https://www.patreon.com/collection/188783?view=expanded
I do not ever read LNs for even my top-tier SSS class manhwas, but I had an unusual pull into these characters' lives and story. And thus I began to spiral with these characters.
To avoid spoilers, I wasn't expecting the development of the story, and I truly felt like I was going through the same life-changing rollercoaster as the characters. Not just the FL and ML but the world, setting, side characters, etc. the story is well thought out, detailed, BEAUTIFULLY written and expressed, and I literally felt like I was being sucker punched at some parts I was almost nauseous and disoriented. I could clearly picture scenes with such an artistic vivid imagination and suffered to many emotions throughout the reading.
My tissues are soaked with hot tears, and yet at the end I feel so unbelievably hurt and yet whole from the entire LN. The side stories and ending seriously felt so complete, and I felt there weren't any loose ends besides maybe some parts of the MLs past and whatnot, but I never said this series was perfect. I am very satisfied after, although I feel so impacted.
But they felt like fleshed out characters that I can't bring myself to love or hate, and I just want them find peace and happiness. I love how the FLs draws her line and doesn't just come running back to the ML when he's all ghastly and begging forgiveness. And he honestly doesn't do too much annoying begging and obsessing. He does try his best to separate them and to just love her from the shadows and be respectful of her wishes, although he's horrified of the thought of her killing herself while out. Even if not perfectly or at first. He also doesn't just leave his duties to some poor assistant side character, or completely neglect his role as the commander. In fact, he drowns in it since he feels it's the best thing he can do for her (bring peace and end the war and make a better place for her to live). It's my pet peeve when MLs abandon their jobs/duties over their loss of the FL and the company/empire/whatever they're running suffers from his emotional outbursts and grief over her while he's got bags under his eyes and has sexy shot of him with alcohol and cigarettes lmao.
The MLs development is truly such a breath of fresh air. I can understand his fucked up mentality and obsession, his self-deprication, self-destructive nature, and inferiority, and so on. And the FL isn't some pushover smiley happy Mary Sue. She has her flaws and confronts them throughout the story, and she's not some completely innocent perfect victim either. She really grows so much and I love how she interacts with Heiner. She really recognizes how unhealthy his 'love' is until he fully recognizes his feelings and perspective.
They get dirty and scarred, fight and argue, have unbearably sweet moments that made me want to burst, and gut wrenching parts that made me have to set me phone down. The insight the LN gives to Annette and Heiner's thoughts and feelings is on a whole different level.
For the homies who already read all of the LN too: First of all, Catherine supremacy for life. They were a fleshed out family with feelings, and not some tool or stepping stone for Annette like other runaway FLs after escaping or divorce.
Can't stress enough how the story doesn't just tunnel vision on the main couple too. Side characters are part of the story and make big impacts. Even the sniper at the church who got his face mauled is who saved her life in the fire. And even Catherine (in the side stories) would give it to Heiner over the phone and he'd reflect on himself. Even the guy who ratted Annette out while she was staying with them post-divorce showed up again when he lost his legs in battle and they had a moment together.
Annette's descent into depression was depicted so realistically it hit too close to home. The memory loss, handwriting and dexterity degradation, and her reaction to the miscarriage felt too real. So often depictions can feel too cheap or shallow. I was horrified by her suicide attempts but could completely put myself in her shoes. But it just doesn't go away quickly either, she does struggle with it and taking care of herself, or having the motivation to recover or do therapy to improve her ruined left hand after the church collapse
>!But seriously, the war church fire incident and the piano was seriously immaculate. The references to the Saint mural and glimpses to the past that reminds me of how far we've come and how much of her life has changed, Joseph, and the piano-playing scene. The shaken feelings of the enemy troops and battle with morality, that moment of pure serenity, I was so absorbed. I mean the play that the piano and music had in her journey and the story too was so tasteful.
And oh my God the ending with the title meaning reveal- I seriously thought it was another shitty toxic title but it was actually the name of the song Heiner fell in love with before he met her... and the one she played that lured him in. And what a switch around because I always assumed the ML was the oppressor in question, but really it was the FL to him because how much she engulfed his life. They even address in the story how her love is spread between so many things (piano) and people, and Heiner has nothing but her.!<
It's really such a tragedy that his innocent youthful crush became such a a double edged serrated knife. So obsessive and convoluted, and he created a cult-like worship of a fictional version of her in his head >! through extreme torture... I mean that kind of disassociation was literally the only way he could survive. Plus how could someone raised the way he was understand love and how to give/receive it? !<
I'll stop rambling here for now but guys please comment or something, I have so many feelings after reading the LN I NEED to talk more about it with someone 😭

I have bracelets and i’m making the rest tonight, if you see someone with purple hair and a bag with a piece of paper that says “bracelets to trade” come up to me tomorrow pls! ❤️

In hindsight, I should have known something was wrong with The Caeles Academy of Acting.
Maybe the fact that it doesn't exist to the outside world.
This place prided itself on famous alumni it didn't actually name, and a once in a lifetime opportunity to work with the best in the business.
It's what I wanted.
More than anything.
After enduring four years of high school with barely a semblance of a drama club (we met every month, and our teacher was an alcoholic), and countless failed auditions, I was ready to take my acting career seriously. I had one year.
According to my parents, I had one year to make a living from my passion.
If it didn't work out, I would be on the first plane back to Connecticut.
It's not like they didn't trust me. I think they were just scared I wouldn't be able to financially support myself. So, I got a job right out of high school and slipped a year. Drama schools are expensive, and college’s are cut-throat on who they take on. I found Caeles Academy by accident–or, I guess it found me?
After researching cheap drama classes, auditions, academy’s, literally anything to progress my career, an ad popped up.
Not exactly flashy.
Just a date, a time, and a promise that they only take the best. I ignored it, but throughout the week, I started getting more ads. Just the words, “IMPRESS US - - JOIN CAELES ACADEMY NOW.”
Followed by, “BE WITH THE BEST, AND BE THE BEST. JOIN THE S CLASS NOW.”
When I googled the academy, nothing came up.
It didn't exist, at least on Google.
So, I gave up, clicking on the ad, which sent me straight to an application form.
I filled in my details as more of a joke. But I wasn't expecting to get an email back. Again, it was a time, a date, and that exact same tagline: “Impress us.”
However, Caeles Academy was different from what I imagined.
I was expecting a university building, or at least some modern structure.
Judging from their marketing and ads, I figured they could at least afford decent premises. Though I was mistaken. When I stepped out of the Uber, I found myself staring at what looked like an abandoned office tower, a red-brick monolith in the middle of nowhere.
Which was crazy, because I swore a girl wearing a bikini had strode through the doors, with nothing but her phone, and a coffee tucked under her elbow.
According to the text sent from the academy, the auditioning rooms were on the third floor.
Tipping my head back, the checkerboard of broken windows didn't exactly instil confidence.
Neither did the clunky set of automatic doors that took a while to open.
It was a summer's day, and the heat was already baking through my dress, sweat sticky on the back of my neck.
I wanted to make a good impression, but the heels were a little over the top.
Though I had also seen a girl casually walk in wearing a two piece bikini.
“Well?”
Freddie’s voice made me jump. I forgot I was on the phone to him.
After being excited the whole car-ride, already high on five coffees, I was silent.
If I perceived the ‘academy’ from an objective standpoint, it definitely looked like the perfect place to be brutally murdered. But my own personal opinion was it was.. okay.
“What's it like?”
I pretended not to see a rat scuttling under an old candy wrapper.
“It's… fine.”
“Just fine?”
I could hear the smirk in my friend’s tone. He couldn't wait to tell me it was a scam, and had been reminding me all week I was essentially willingly selling myself to the black market. I was stubborn, so, fine sounded better than my initial first impression.
Which was to turn around, walk away, and completely block the place from my memory.
Unfortunately, at that moment, I valued my pride over my awareness.
“It's… okay.” I said, trying to find positives. I was staring at a looming grey building with shattered windows and a resident rat living near the door.
I had a hard time figuring out how the girl from earlier had just casually strode inside, barefoot too. I glanced down at the ground, immediately regretting it.
Like there weren't bits of chewing gum and grime stuck to the concrete.
“Huh.” Freddie said, his tone creeping into teasing territory. “You're really selling it.”
“It just looks like a building,” I muttered, my gaze glued to the rat, who looked a little too comfortable.
Maybe it was a pet.
I was getting progressively more infuriated the more I stared down this place. Judging from the decades old writing ingrained into the door, it used to be a dentist surgery. “What do you want me to say?” I wasn't even trying to hide the scorn from my voice. “It's a building that looks like an academy.”
“Can you send a picture?” Freddie asked, “Ooh, wait, I'll face-time you.”
“That's, uh, that’s not really necessary–”
I was cut off, suddenly, when a guy threw himself through the automatic doors, palms first. He took two stumbled steps forwards, one back.
Lifting his head, half lidded eyes found the sky, before he dropped to his knees, heaving pinkish liquid.
I could see him trying to hold it in, slamming his hands over his mouth, only for it to splurge through his fingers, showering the ground in greyish pink froth.
Like he'd downed a bottle of Pepto Bismol.
Inching towards him, I realized it was Pepto Bismol.
The stink made my own stomach churn.
“Missy?”
I found my voice. “Uh, can I call you back later?”
Before my friend could answer, I ended the call, slipping my phone in my pocket.
The guy was still heaving, coughing up globules of pink.
“Are you okay?”
The sound of my heels click-clacking on concrete made me cringe. The guy noticed, flinching away. Closer, and I could see his scraggly blonde hair.
He was handsome.
Without the bile spewing down his chin.
Early twenties, wearing a fitted white shirt now covered in streaks of bright pink. Part of me wanted to make a half-hearted joke, but getting even closer, so close I could smell his pepto-breath, I noticed he was trembling, his hands clenched into fists.
When I attempted to awkwardly pat him on the shoulder, he twisted around, so fast my morning coffee slithered its way back up my throat.
His eyes were wide, almost feral, studying me like a wild animal.
I noticed the whites of his pupils were red, like he'd burst a blood vessel.
Theatre kids were intense, though I had never met THIS kind of intense.
“Are you… going in there?” The guy’s voice was a child-like whimper I wasn't expecting.
It looked like he was slowly regaining clarity, staring down at his filthy shirt, his hands stained bright pink.
I nodded, uncertainly, offering him my water. “Yeah. Did you audition?”
He shoved it away, slapping himself in the face. “I… I don't know.”
“You… don’t know?”
Suddenly, it was like something had contorted in his expression, a switch being pulled. I wasn't expecting him to twist around so fast. The guy slowly cocked his head, his lips breaking into a grin. His eyes, however, stayed the same.
“Of course I've auditioned.” He said, with a laugh.
“It was the best experience of my life!" His mouth formed an almost mocking frown.
“Unfortunately, I didn't make the cut. Which is a real shame. I'm sure Caeles would have benefited from my talents.”
What was weird, is that his mouth was moving, but he wasn't even looking at me, frenzied eyes caught in an oblivion I couldn't see.
When he did look at me, his expression crumpled all over again.
Pepto jumped to his feet, brushing himself down.
I couldn't take his over the top smile seriously, when his eyes were screaming, hollowed out caverns silently begging me to listen.
This guy was fucking crazy.
“Wait.” Pepto whispered, when I turned to walk away.
He pulled out his phone, tapping the screen before shoving it in my face.
I HAD SO MUCH FUN AT THE CAELES ACADEMY AUDITIONS :)
When I could only stare at him in confusion, Pepto’s gaze flicked to his phone, swiping bile from his lips.
His eyes went cartoon wide, like he couldn't believe what he himself was typing.
“That… that's not what I was trying to say!” He tried retyping it, but the guy was just writing strings of emoji hearts.
I didn't know what to say. I had dealt with rejection before, but I had never gone this far. Pepto was having a full on mental breakdown, his body shuddering, teeth chattering, blinking eyes and lips parting as if to speak, but choking on his words. When he started clawing out his hair, I took the opportunity to make a quick getaway.
Before I could make it to the doors, though, Pepto jumped in front of me, waving his phone directly in my face.
“Just…” he pointed at the screen. “It won't let me…” Growing frustrated with himself, he let out a wet sounding sob, clawing his fingers through his hair.
“Fuck, it won't let me…it won't let me type! It's not letting me type!”
By now, he had tufts of hair stuck between his fingernails. I don't know why his first reaction was to immediately try ripping his hair out.
A quick glance at my own phone reminded me of my audition that was in five minutes.
Meanwhile, I was dealing with what I was pretty sure was delusion, denial, or a mixture of both.
I was considering pushing past him, when Pepto’s phone screen hit me in the face. Again.
This time, though, there was coherent writing.
“FIND LUKE.”
“Luke?” I said. “Who's that?”
“Luke!” The guy was bouncing on the heels of his feet. “He's my…” Pepto drifted off, his eyes going vacant, as if I could physically see his brain being plucked from his skull. Pepto dropped his phone, and I grabbed it before it could hit the ground. His hands went to his curls, clawing, scratching, until he was drawing blood across his forehead.
“I… I don't know! I can't… I can't remember. Luke. He was my… he was my… I don't know, I can't… I can't–”
I stumbled back when he let out a shriek, scratching at his face.
“Fuck!” He whimpered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Pepto grabbed my shoulders, shaking me, his fingers digging into my skin.
“I don't know who he is.” He gritted out, pink froth pooling from his lips.
Pepto broke out into a sob. “I don't… I don't know who he is, but you can find him, right? You can… you can find…”
Again, he trailed off mid sentence, his hands going limp around my shoulders.
I managed to side step him, swallowing a cry.
“Yeah, I'll, um, I'll find him for you.”
Pepto backed away, suddenly, stumbling over himself.
His gaze found mine, vacant, like a baby deer.
“Find who?”
I didn't wait around to answer him, pushing through the doors and stepping inside.
The interior was unsurprisingly even worse than the exterior.
The elevator was broken, so I had to run up three flights of stairs.
I expected at least an attempt at an academy, even in the dregs of an old dentist surgery.
What I got, though, was a never ending staircase, obnoxious photos of teeth greeting me on every level.
The third floor was… less clinical.
I strode directly into a waiting room filled with college aged students, either sitting on plastic chairs, or standing around, rehearsing.
The room itself was cosy enough, a navy carpet and a TV playing a random Twitch stream.
Situated in the middle was a desk with a bored looking woman behind it.
Her smile was fake. I could understand her pain. She was stuck in a room with theatre kids all day.
“Sign here.” She prodded a sheet of paper.
I was convinced her voice was AI.
While I was scribbling my details, I took a moment to notice the stark difference from the kids entering the room, to the ones leaving. The kids entering wore wide, confident smiles and were social butterflies, chatting amongst themselves.
The kids leaving reminded me of pod people.
They left the room silent, in an orderly line with dazed smiles on their faces, like they weren't sure where they were.
I watched one guy walk directly into the wall instead of taking a left toward the exit, and a girl straight up just toppled down the stairs.
The kids waiting with me named them rejects.
I wasn't convinced until I glimpsed an empty bottle of Pepto Bismol sitting on the floor by the window.
Thinking back to Pepto, that made a lot of sense.
I was still dazedly staring at the bottle, when my name was called.
Jumping to my feet, I did my best to calm myself down, straightening my ponytail. Pepto had really screwed with my head. I could barely even remember the lines I had been rehearsing for a week straight.
I was muttering my lines to myself, when I stepped through the door.
The door that apparently turned you into a pod-person on the way out.
For a moment, I thought I was blinded by stage lights.
It was so bright.
The glow bathing me was clinical, stabbing into my eyes.
When I blinked, I found myself standing in front of three shadows sitting in front of me.
Their chairs were made of leather, far different from the plastic ones in the waiting room.
So, they did have filthy cash.
I was looking at one man, and two women.
They were… average?
I expected them to be more glitzier, but they were just regular people.
The man was in his late twenties, maybe early thirties, a stiff looking brunette wearing a suit and tie, one leg crossed over the other. His eyes were narrowed slightly, lips curved into the start of a smile. Like I amused him.
The women were polar opposites.
One of them was my Mom’s age, grey hair and floral clothing. She took a sip of water, her gaze burning into me.
Google told me not to be intimidated by their stares, but it was impossible.
These people were carving holes into my skull.
Sitting next to her, a younger girl who seemed to own the color red.
Her hair simmered, blood red, while she herself was sculpted in a dress, perfect cherry lips spread in a wide smile.
With a little too many teeth.
They studied my face like I was already theirs, drinking in every inch of me.
Freddie said I had to find a weakness in their expression and use it to my advantage.
If I could find the prick of a genuine smile, I could become their favorite.
“Hi!” I said. My caffeine intake was starting to take effect.
I didn't realize I was bouncing up and down until I caught myself.
Red’s smile stretched wider.
Maybe they liked my eagerness.
“My name is Misa.” I introduced myself, staying casual, keeping my arms by my sides. “I'm twenty one years old–”
I choked on my next words when Red spoke up. “Impress us, Misa,” Her voice was a smooth, almost seductive rasp, and I felt myself fall into it, enveloped in sugar that was too sweet, and yet I couldn't stop myself. She folded her arms across her chest, her gaze challenging me to do something different. To make her want me.
“Show us something we have never seen before.” She stood up, cat-like eyes narrowing, “Show us how desperate you are to join this prestigious class.”
I nodded, and began.
I had planned a whole monologue, practised it over and over again, forcing Freddie to judge me with a none biassed opinion.
I was three lines in, when Red started laughing.
“Stop.”
I did, my cheeks heating up.
She clapped loudly. Obnoxiously.
“Sweetie, oh, stop, you're adorable!”
She leaned forward, like I was something that entertained her, jostling her heeled foot. “We don't take amateurs. I think you need to go back to school.”
This woman was definitely a psychopath.
Empty eyes sparkling with a gleam that definitely enjoyed humiliating candidates, and a twisted smile that was a little too wide. Red made me want to crawl into the ground.
She made me want to turn around, leave the room, and quit my dream. I was aware of my own fury, my embarrassment turning my cheeks crimson. I matched her.
Maybe that's what she wanted all along. To wear the color of her victims.
Taking a shaky step back, I started to nod, started to agree, my mouth choking with the words, “You're right. I'm sorry for wasting your time."
I had never received proper constructive criticism from a professional standpoint.
Which meant I really did suck.
But I didn't move. I didn't want to move, and Red continued laughing, her companions sitting in silence.
The man rolled his eyes with a loud, exaggerated sigh.
Like I was boring.
The older woman pulled out her phone.
“Misa, you are…cute.” Red said. “But you're not quite what we are looking for.”
I wasn't sure I could admit it right there, but she made me feel things.
Like I was ignited.
Like I was going to prove this crazy bitch wrong.
I found my voice, strong and confident, despite my hammering heart.
“Give me another chance.”
Red’s lips curled. “So cute, Misa. Oh, sugar bear, It would be better if you left the room. Unless you want to embarrass yourself further! In that case, be my guest!”
She turned her attention to her nails, nudging the guy.
“Dinner?” She hummed. “I'm thinking of Italian. You are quite the wine connoisseur, Nicholas. Why don't you introduce me to your favorite?”
“Hey.” I blurted.
They ignored me, getting a little too close.
I don't know why I continued, reading my lines, screaming them, so I would be heard. I read them perfectly, and tweaked the genre from drama to romance, and then to horror. I became three different characters, a high school girl struggling with cancer, a final girl, and a woman going through a divorce.
I was fucking perfect.
But they weren't listening to me, caught up in their own conversation.
I tried again.
And again.
And again.
By now, I was on my knees, my fingers ripping into my hair. I was seeing red.
“We want originality, Misa,” Red said, sucking her teeth.
Her voice crawling into my skull was enough.
She still wanted me.
The thought polluted the back of my mind, taking a strangling hold. She still wanted me. When I lifted my head, Red wasn't looking at me, her gaze on the table grains. “Show us something new.”
I got to my feet, panting, my breath in my throat.
I became a screaming, strangled mess, a woman who lost her baby.
Red’s interest was piqued. Only slightly. Through my fraying vision, she slowly turned in her chair. “Again.” She clapped her hands, “Come on, Misa! We want new! We want never been fucking done before! Are you deaf?”
I couldn't stop the sobs escaping my mouth.
They lost interest again, right in the middle of my reading.
“Why can't you look at me?” I found myself spluttering.
When the man pulled out a bottle of water, I yanked off my heel and lobbed it at his face.
“Look at me!”
He did. Slowly. His gaze found me, for perhaps the first time.
Not as an amateur, but as a potential candidate.
Around the twentieth attempt, I started to laugh. Never been done before? I could feel my fingernails already in my scalp, clawing chunks of my hair out.
Reality contorted, and I felt myself drop to my knees. I was still laughing, spluttering, sobbing. I could still hear her in my head. Never Been Done Before. I started slowly, dragging my fingernails down my face until I felt the harsh sting.
“Again.” Red said, and her voice led me to stare down at my hands, at pinkish flesh glued to my bones, fleshy mounds that I had never realized was so thin.
So easy to tear. I didn't even feel it.
Only the sudden, unbridled euphoria of biting into my own skin, locking in my jaw, and ripping into myself.
When I tore it from the bone, warmth filled my mouth, and I was choking, guzzling down my own flesh, mulling it in my mouth and swallowing.
I can't remember how I got so deep, and why I didn't stop.
Why I didn't fucking scream.
But it didn't matter.
Red was standing up. She was clapping, her lips spread into a grin.
Her applause filled me with stars.
So, I ripped my hair from my scalp, a hysterical giggle escaping my lips.
She loved me.
I could see her jumping up and down, clapping.
Louder, and louder.
Her applause controlled me, twisting and contorting me into hers.
I didn't even think. I wanted to impress her, and doing this was doing just that.
My fingers were delving into my right eye socket, clawing my eye out. It didn't even hurt. Not with her thundering applause that was deafening, beautiful, an orchestra in my ears.
When I was semi conscious, my eye was crushed in my hand, but my vision was still mine, almost too clear. I could see streaks of red blurred between my lashes. My hair was caught between my fingers. But I wanted to do more.
When I stumbled to my feet, Red’s smile was so beautiful.
The man, however, looked horrified.
“Someone grab one of the successes,” Red’s voice was a shrill giggle, “Bring him in!” she clapped her hands together, and I spat out a fleshy thing. “I want to see them together! I want to see the future in front of us!”
Footsteps coming towards me in slow, shuddery thumps. I looked up, and a shadow was dancing around me.
When I slowly rose to my feet, I half realized I’d bitten my toe off. The shadow had a face, a boy who was younger than me. I think he used to have hair, but half of it was gone, half of it was still stuck between his fists. When I found his eyes, I found twin caverns instead.
Eyes that were still physically there, and yet there was no life.
No spark.
I was staring at a dead body, a flesh puppet who had lost his strings.
When he grabbed my hands, pulling me into a waltz, I caught a smear of scarlet trickling down the back of his neck. When I followed it upwards, his head was covered, slick, dripping with red.
Like me, he matched her too.
And he was beautiful, she told me, her push, her thunderous applause, guiding me into a waltz.
His feet moved, perfecting every step, and my foggy mind couldn't understand why. He matched my every move, the two of us floating across the floor.
My feet knew the steps before my mind.
How could he dance? I thought, dizzily.
How could he dance, when smeared scarlet followed his twisting, and turning and pirouetting feet?
Because underneath that swimming clinical light, the back of the boy’s head had been carved away, a perfectly sculpted cavern where his brain should have been. I could see the severed stem, where it had cleanly plucked out.
His fingers cradled in mine were wet. Swimming in blood.
His own blood.
Spinning round and around, I imagined myself as a princess.
I saw an 18th century ballroom lit up around us. Glittering smiles and glasses of champagne, long, flowing ball gowns.
I blinked, and my head was tipped back, gliding in blood once again.
When he pulled me to his chest, I stumbled, and a name came to light.
Luke.
I had found him.
Our finishing spin left me hard to breathe.
My body was broken, ripped into, and yet somehow not.
By the time we were finished, the two of us bowing, my mind was full of fog.
Cotton candy.
“Congratulations!” Red’s smile was inhuman, stretching right off of her face.
“You're in the S class!”
I was led through a door that wasn't the one I entered from. Inside the room were a dozen or so students, kneeling on the floor. They were missing parts of themselves, like unfinished puzzle pieces.
I dropped onto my knees next to a girl without a head. I could only see her torso, but I knew she was smiling.
Looming over us, was the goddess Athena drenched in blood that was still wet.
Dripping, pooling from every crevice of her dress.
Looking closer, this statue was moving.
Something sickly crept into my mouth.
Her right eye was human, a twitching eyeball sandwiched inside the stone.
It didn't match her. It was wrong, horrifying, like a painting, a real human eye struggling to focus on us.
And then, my own gaze found the statues head, where a real human brain had been forced inside perfect white, pink, greyish mush dripping down the sculpted, slender neck.
I could see where it had been pushed, pulverised through the stone.
The statue’s singular eye found me.
Its dancing pupil jumped up and down.
Before it blinked.
Next to me, Luke was on his knees, as if in prayer.
I can't remember leaving the room.
I just remember running.
Back down the stairs, stumbling, staggering over myself.
I was screaming by the time I reached the doors.
They opened, as usual.
But I couldn't get through. I tried, but I was slamming into something I couldn't see.
Pepto was still waiting outside. The sky was dark.
When he saw me, he stumbled over, slamming his hands into the glass.
I couldn't even understand myself. I was just fucking screaming.
Pepto held up his phone.
“DID YOU FIND HIM?”
I shook my head.
“No.” I lied.
I can't tell him the truth. I don't even know what it is.
“I can't get out!”
Pepto nodded slowly, typing something and showing me his phone.
I'm getting you both out of there. I think I know how I can get inside.
It's been 3 days, and Pepto is yet to return.
I’ve tried multiple times to cry out for the H word. But it won't let me type it.
Please H me. I need to get out of this place.
Fuck. Get me OUT OF HERE.
Classes start tomorrow.

I've put a good few hours into this game and I still feel like I've barely improved any on understanding how things are working. The following are a few bulletin points of points that I'd like greater clarification on.

• Rebels of a puppet you're attempting to annex , you win the war but the rebels break off to form a new nation, despite the fact you literally held both the rebel province and the original.
• Constant subject rebellions , becomes rather disruptive / annoying , preventing diplomatic plays as you have to go stomp out a rebellion that consists of a single disgruntled grandad.
• Naval invasions, seriously; is this just an issue with the game in the current state? When I have a Flotilla of 60 ships and I'm having my invasion stop because the same 5 ship flotilla keeps popping up with each ship having a crew of 5 people , it gets to be a bit clownish. You should be able to "force" a landing attempt if you have overwhelming numbers of ships.
  • Another issue : why are my naval invasions pausing because they psychically know that a flotilla is coming from literally the other side of the world, they seem to wait literal weeks or months to do with the above 5 boats.
  • Another issue x2 : Naval invasions seem to just .... pause ? at points , Naval units are unoccupied , the army assigned has relatively high morale and manpower and organization and yet they'll sit there for weeks before launching the invasion, if ever.
• Armies , is it better to have 1-2 (high rank) officers assigned with "Adamant Defense" / "Pillage" / "Heavy Barrage" , or is it better to just fill up all 4 slots? It seems like if you have multiple officers, whoever is the left most takes priority? E.G. I had an adamant defense and a pillage officer, but the army more or less never attacked, even on fronts where they had rather strong numerical advantage.
  • Armies 2 : Is there a "meta" strategy for handling big nations? I tend to just do adamant defense for a while, let them burn MP and then mop up the rest.
  • Armies 3 : Is there a such thing as an ideal army comp? I tend to just do 50/50 Infantry/Arty or 60-80/40-20% of both
  • Navy : Does the rank of the Admiral matter / does it let them bring more boats into a single engagement , and should I have three admirals, one for Intercept/Raid/Escort?
• Great Powers : Is liberating countries the best way to kneecap the great powers? E.G. Ukraine & Kazan from Russia , I've been liberating but it feels like it's a bit of a double edged sword as some of the countries released can be powerful in their own right and can go against you later.
• Italy : Why the fuck can it annex my Piedmont / Tuscany / Lucca / Modena etc. puppets without even a notification, with the above great power question , Italy just keeps reforming itself, it's incredibly infuriating.
• Conquering : Is it better to actually gain land, or better to puppet them and have them depend on your customs union and pay you a tithe? (Ignoring Infamy costs)
  • On this note , is it better in terms of less infamy to outright take land, or to puppet then annex, I know that annexing puppet's lands costs less infamy, but does the initial puppet cost combined with lowering autonomy etc. make the cost greater in terms of overall infamy generated?
• Economy : It's either nuanced, or I'm dumb or both. I spend a lot of my early game building a couple of construction sectors, Logging camps & Iron Mines , Gold mines if they're there and largely ignoring everything under the agriculture tab and letting the investment pool build farms in the assumption that it'll build things that I'm short on (grain, tobacco, cloth, etc.) ; the only exceptions to this are usually in the case of something like Afghanistan where opium goes brrt. Mid/Late game I tend to build a bunch of Govt. Admin for Bureaucracy for the institutions, and just a bunch of factories : Glass, Paper, Steel etc.
  • GDP Growth and spontaneous dips without any seeming cause , is this normal, am I doing something wrong? This is particularly worrisome to me when I try to play bigger nations : France/Germany/Russia/GB where I can be growing at a fairly steady rate then I just hemmorhage 10-20% GDP in a short fashion, bonus points if I applied a building upgrade that said it'd make money. (no supply shortages)
  • Upgrades to buildings : Seriously, this one confuses me extensively and I can single-handedly cause GB's entirely 200m GDP economy to tank to 80m in a few simple clicks because I decided to tell certain industries to use a steam donkey or sumt.
    • Tall or Wide for industry for EOS , should I just make a few super industrialized counties and just let immigration within the country handle it, or should I spread it out a bit?
    • Should I ever use rail transportation , it seems to have more cons than pros, sure it means less employees needed but in almost every case I've seen, it's not worth it monetarily and population tends to not be much of an issue. (Minus stuff like small nations without conquering or places like the sahara)
    • Refrigeration for fishing/whaling , Livestock ranches in general , anything better than harvesting tools for farms,
  • Trade : Tips in general , importing seems to cost you money even if it says otherwise, and exporting feels rather disconnected.
  • Shipyards : Rather annoying gripe as once you upgrade to Steamers from Clippers you might still need them , leastwise this is true in case you have junior customs members.
  • Arms / Artillery industry : Subsidize during peacetime or just let them sit there empty until war kicks off again? Micromanaging trade for these things considering how short most of the AI wars last, it becomes more tedious than anything.
  • Urban Centers : Do these things just suck? They seem to always be losing money and services even if taxed don't seem to really ever make these things require more than market stalls , let alone any lighting upgrade.
  • Fishing / Whaling : Does this just suck in general? I've barely ever seen these things turn a profit.
  • Treaty ports (Qing) : Do these just let you bypass embargoes?
• Colonies : Are they actually worth it? I like doing it just because it let's me paint the map, and Niger (Delta) can actually be rather useful from my experience as that region has a rather large amount of population and seems fairly easy to integrate into your country.
  • A lot of the small pacific islands under the oceania region feel utterly worthless, they're all very small, low population, have no real interesting resources and all need a port that'll just act as a money sink as the islands will never get enough population to staff them or make it a profitable venture.
  • Colonial administration pros/cons? They don't seem particularly good in general.
• Education : Does literacy matter much? It seems like if you have even a 50% ish rate, qualifications aren't very hard to get filled, secondly how many universities are too many? Should you bother making numerous in high pop states, just a few in say your capital for the innovation bonus (which seems to get capped off rather quickly?)
• Tech : Is it better to research all of a previous row's techs or does it not matter, I read somewhere that if you research a previous row fully, you get a bonus but I haven't seen anything to corroborate that.
• Assimilation / Conversion : How , aside from promoting national values decree?

What exactly are Dharāṇī?
Dharāṇī, also known as Parittas, are Buddhist chants, mnemonic codes, incantations, or recitations, usually the mantras consisting of Sanskrit or Pāli phrases. Believed to be protective and with powers to generate merit for the Buddhist devotee, they constitute a major part of historic Buddhist literature. Many of these chants are in Sanskrit and Pāli, written in scripts such as Siddhaṃ, as well as transliterated into Chinese, Korean, Japanese, Vietnamese, Sinhala, Thai and other regional scripts. Dharāṇī are found in the ancient texts of all major traditions of Buddhism. They are a major part of the Pāli canon preserved by the Theravāda tradition. Mahāyāna Sūtras such as the Lotus Sūtra and the Heart Sūtra include or conclude with Dharāṇī. Dharāṇī are a part of the regular ritual prayers as well as considered to be an amulet and charm in themselves, whose recitation believed to allay bad luck, diseases or other calamity. In some Buddhist regions, they served as texts upon which the Buddhist witness would swear to tell the truth. Dharāṇī recitation for the purposes of healing and protection is referred to as Paritta in some Buddhist regions, such as Laos, Thailand, Burma, Cambodia, and Sri Lanka. Paritta is generally translated as ‘Safeguard’ or ‘Protection’ in the Pāli language.
Historical Context:
The word Dharāṇī derives from a Sanskrit root √dhṛ meaning "to hold or maintain". Some Buddhist communities outside India sometimes refer to Dharāṇī with alternate terms such as "Mantra, Hṛdaya (Hridiya), Paritrana (Paritta), Raksha (Pali: Rakkha), Gutti, or Vidyā" though these terms also have other contextual meanings in Buddhism. The Buddhist Dharāṇī invocations are the earliest mass printed texts that have survived. The earliest extant example of printing on paper is a fragment of a Dhāraṇī miniature scroll in Sanskrit unearthed in a tomb in Xi'an, called the Great spell of unsullied pure light (Wúgòu jìng guāngdà tuóluóní jīng; 無垢淨光大陀羅尼經). It was printed using woodblock during the Tang dynasty, c. 650–670 AD. The Hyakumantō Darani found as charms in wooden pagodas of Japan were broadly accepted as having been printed between 764 and 770 CE. In 1966, similarly printed Dharāṇī were discovered in stone pagoda of Pulguksa temple in Gyeongju, Korea. These are dated to the first half of the 8th century.
How to start the practice:
As stated, Dharāṇī, are used as a sort of mnemonic code, specifically curated to help a practitioner remember the text in which the teaching and incantation comes from, such a practice is a good starting point in exploring the genre of Buddhist text that have the ability to generate positive karma, and dedication of merit to other sentient beings. Remembering and reciting a Dharāṇī is useful, and is a good recommendation for beginners, linked here is also a guide on how to pronounce Sanskrit if you happen to have some linguistic difficulties:
https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLnFLN_eBOBMVEWX7pGJMGJNr_HK75VL_9&si=wSLN1Pz95q9bTcNA
Please note as some Dharāṇī/Paritta are esoteric and passed down by lineage of teacher to student, it is highly recommended for beginners to receive oral transmissions of such text. However, in this short list, all listed text are Sūtric and are free to recite without need of oral transmission.
Here is a good beginners list:
(Sanskrit works) Saddharma Puṇḍarīka Sūtraṁ (White Lotus Sūtra, used for praising the White Lotus Sūtra, and its benefits.)
Nīlakaṇṭha Dharāṇī (Blue-Necked One Dharāṇī, used for honoring, venerating, and requesting Avalokiteśvara protection, and clearance of obstacles.)
Śūraṅgama Mantraḥ/Sitātapatroṣṇīṣa Dhāraṇī* (Śūraṅgama Sūtra Mantraḥ, and the Dharāṇī associated in the Śūraṅgama Sūtra; White Parosal Dharāṇī of Sitātapatra Dharmapāla. Used for honoring, and venerating, the Śūraṅgama Sūtra, as well as requesting the help of Sitātapatra Dharmapāla to combat negative spiritual forces, magic, and beings.)
Bhaiṣajya-Guru-Vaiḍūrya-Prabhā-Rāja Dharāṇī (Used for honoring, and venerating, the Medicine Buddha Sūtra, as well as requesting his spiritual powers to heal and help sentient beings.)
Prajñāpāramitā-Hṛdaya (Sūtra) (Used for honoring, and venerating, the essence of Mahāyāna teachings on Śūnyatā, beneficial at warding off ill calamities, and dispelling negative forces.)
Munīndra-Hṛdaya-Mantraḥ (Shakyamuni Heart Mantraḥ, used for honoring, venerating, and establishing a connection to the Buddha Dharma.)
Śyāmatārā-Mantraḥ (Green Tārā Mantraḥ, used for requesting assistance from Green Tārā Bodhisattva.)
Amitāyus Dharāṇī (Amitāyus Buddha Dharāṇī used for honoring, venerating, and establishing a connection to the Amitabha Buddha Dharma, and for requesting longevity.)
Sarva-Tathāgatāyur-Vajra-Hṛdaya-Dharāṇī (All Thus Come One Life Diamond Heart Dharāṇī, used as an aspiration prayer towards Sukhāvatī, as well as praising, and venerating Amitābha Buddha.)
*Disclaimer, although this is an open mantraḥ, it is highly recommended to follow a teachers instructions on the usage of such a powerful mantraḥ. The Śuraṅgama Mantraḥ request the help of Vajrapaṇi Dharmapāla and is an extremely wrathful mantraḥ, often used at the most extreme of cases. Repeated usage is to advised by a qualified teacher.
For a more general overlook on Paritta works, which are often more peaceful in nature, and have a heavy emphasis on Mettā and merit dedication, here are a few open protective Parittas:
(Pāli linguistic works) Mettā Sutta/Karaṇīyamettā Sutta (The Discourse on Goodwill, used for spreading Mettā Pāramī to other sentient beings.)
Uddissanādhiṭṭhāna Gāthā (Verses for dedication of merit, used for dedicating merit to sentient beings, as well as multitudes of spiritual beings.)
Tiro-kuḍḍa-kaṇḍa-sutta Gāthā (Hungry Shades outside the walls verses, used for dedicating merit and food for ancestors and Pretā spiritual beings.)
Āmantana-Devatā Gāthā (Invitation to the Devās, used to invite the Buddhist and local deities protect those listening and preaching the Dhamma.)
Namakāra-siddhi Gāthā (Verses on success through homage, used as the beginning Paritta of ceremonies to venerate Buddhas and to bring success to rituals.)
Cha Ratana Paritta Gāthā (The Six Protective Verses from the Discourse on Treasures, derived from the larger Ratana Sutta, used for dispelling evil and negative forces, and proclaiming the truth [Saccakiriyā] of the triple gems.)
Khandha Paritta (The Group Protection, used for calming down and venerating the Nāga families, as well as dispelling harmful two footed, four footed, poisonous, and crawling creatures.)
Dhajagga Paritta (Top of the banner staff Protection, used for dispelling fear, and negative forces.)
Buddha-jaya-maṅgala Gāthā (The Verses of the Buddha’s Victory Blessings, used for proclaiming the eight auspicious victories of Shakyamuni Buddha in his life.)
It is recommended before the start of any Dharāṇī or Paritta chanting that one is to take refuge in the triple gems, and make aspiration prayers towards one’s goal, an example, as seen in the Theravāda Nikāya:
Namo tassa bhagavato arahato sammā-sambuddhassa. (Recite three times.)
Homage to the Blessed One, the Worthy One, the Rightly Self-awakened One.
Tisaraṇa (Triple Gem Refuge.)
Buddhaṁ saraṇaṁ gacchāmi. Dhammaṁ saraṇaṁ gacchāmi. Saṅghaṁ saraṇaṁ gacchāmi.
I go to the Buddha for refuge. I go to the Dhamma for refuge. I go to the Saṅgha for refuge.
Dutiyampi Buddhaṁ saraṇaṁ gacchāmi. Dutiyampi Dhammaṁ saraṇaṁ gacchāmi. Dutiyampi Saṅghaṁ saraṇaṁ gacchāmi.
Twice, I go to the Buddha for refuge. Twice, I go to the Dhamma for refuge. Twice, I go to the Saṅgha for refuge.
Tatiyampi Buddhaṁ saraṇaṁ gacchāmi. Tatiyampi Dhammaṁ saraṇaṁ gacchāmi. Tatiyampi Saṅghaṁ saraṇaṁ gacchāmi.
Thrice, I go to the Buddha for refuge. Thrice, I go to the Dhamma for refuge. Thrice, I go to the Saṅgha for refuge.
[Āmantana-Devatā Gāthā is said here.]
[Namakāra-siddhi Gāthā Paritta Chant, and so on…..]
Please feel free to ask questions, I don’t even know if you’re still reading, but…. Feel free to add suggestions too I guess. Have a nice day, and thank you for coming to my Ted-talk.

Need advice pls, Also TW possibly ahead. Had a real Shit day today.

Started off aight. Had a dream I was spiderman, and this time didn’t run outta my web fluid mid-swing 🤣😭

I had a shower was all good but after that. Shit only went down hill. (In the shit way) So I showered, and got ready to go get my T shot. Because I’m due today. (This was on Monday and it’s now Thursday 😭) So I got ready all except my shoes and grabbing the actual box of T to take with me. Went to look for the box. It’s gone.

(For context my mum had been in my room, had admitted to “cleaning up the floor a little and taking out the rubbish”)

Right so ideally id like to assume my mum hasn’t taken it. Because I’d like to assume my mum wouldn’t push her opinions of my decisions on me like that. So I’m just gonna say it was on the floor and she put it in the medicine cabinet or in the bathroom with my other ointments n meds n stuff (or where my morning meds are next to the bench.) Not in any of those places. Right so I thought right I’ll call mum. Coz she’d probably just moved it and hadn’t known that id put it in a very specific location for a very SPECIFIC REASON. Call her. “Nah idk I havnt seen it” Right. Then I’m just fuckin blind coz I’m rushing and looking for it. It’s gotta be here somewhere. Aggressive loud and panicked rummaging Bout 20 mins goes past. (Queue the bin/recycling truck noises this will be useful later I promise) I call her again. “Mum can you please promise me you didn’t see it and that you didn’t take it.” “deadname stop calling me I’m at work. I’ll talk to you later” Right she didn’t promise. She was either actually stressed at work or was trying to get me to stop talking about it. So I go looking in the places she used to hide my phone / iPad / DS / Computer / whatever when she took things off me. Not anywhere. Right now I think back to the last time I saw it or something similar and brushed my eyes over it. Last I KNOW I saw it. It was in the chemist warehouse (Australian chemist place) bag on the floor beside my bed. Right well she cleared the floor. So I’ll go look in all the places she stuffed shit in while I wasn’t here. Not in the backpack, not on the top bunk of my bed, not under my bed. Not in any drawers. Ok well my appointment to get my injection is in 30 mins and I’ve been searching for 30mind stressed asf coz I needa get on the bus. So let’s see if I can move that appointment. Moved the appointment back 2 hours. Right now I got 2.5h to find it. Now I have a very thorough look for it in my room in all the places that have been TOUCHED recently. Incase I’m just stupid and put it there to HIDE it. Coz doggy brain (and trauma) say “hide precious thing so nobody take. Coz precious thing good and need to keep safe.” Ok. I look in those places. Not there. Right well she cleared out the RUBBISH and a plastic chemist warehouse bag with a box and a receipt could be “rubbish” right well I took out the recycling yesturday and saw a blue and white somethin in the recycling maybe it’s in the recycling bin. …. •-• the bins 2 houses up. Has already been. Fook me dead. Right well literally EVERY OPTION of me getting the box I collected last week at the pharmacy hasn’t worked. Aight well what’re my options? Call the hospital see if they can get me an emergency script. Nope they said call ur GP. I call my GP, ask them what to do coz I havnt had my T shot, and they have literal proof coz I booked the injection with them. Had havnt had it…..

so I call em up. They said “yeah come in we’ll see what we can do” they get me a script. I’m brilliant I could KISS the gp rn :D!!

Get to the chemist. They make me wait 45mins. “Sorry we gotta call the dr coz he didn’t put the interval of how often you take this” Aight sure I’ll just wait. … Sorry you already have a script for this, and you picked it up the other day, so we can’t give it to you. Aight. Well I literally got the second proscription, so that I could get a new bottle… because I’ve LOST / HAD IT TAKEN FROM ME / IT HAD BEEN THROWN AWAY BY ACCIDENT That’s why u got the second proscription paper thingy. “Yeah nah I can’t do that” “Tf you mean nu-uh.” “Well we called ur GP on the script.

Told him (coz why wouldn’t you) you picked it up the other day and he said not to dispense it”

Dawggggg I literally came into the fucking medical centre told y’all the situation and u gave me the script not even 20 mother fucking minutes ago. Aight can I take my script back? Yeah. Aight well I still have the bit of paper of me needing my T. (Mind you, he didn’t put the fucking concession on it. So would’ve costed me 150$ instead of S E V E N which is how much u usually pay.) I call the medical centre I was literally JUST AT 20 mins ago “hey yeah he just told the chemist NOT to give it to me after I literally just left to come get it.” “Aight brb I’ll go talk to him” … “Yeah nah sorry can’t do anything…” “Aight well what am I gonna do then?”

“Idk hangs up”

WELL FUCK ME SIDEWAYS (don’t actually but it’s too late coz my days already FUCKED ME SO WHY NOT JOIN IN )

Aight well what are my other options. I’ll ring my endo see if he can call the pharmacy and tell them to gimme my fuckin boy juice. Aight he’s not in today. Right well reception sent him an email. He’s on leave for another fuckin 3 weeks. Right. Only other option. Is to go to another pharmacy. And try use this script which chemist warehouse already scribbled all over.!!!! See if they’ll give it to me. Priceline (another pharmacy) doesn’t have any. Right try the other one. They’re confused as to why they’d scribbled on it and DIDNT give it to me. I explain my situation. They said “also btw how much you usually pay for this..?” “Like 7 bucks..” “He hasn’t put the concession on this. And he can’t cos he’s not a specialist. And I’d have to ring him to ask if I can give this to you.” “Right then nvm I’ll try something else. Coz he’s just gonna tell you not to give it to me :)” Ok well I’m fucked now. It’s not at home. They won’t give it to me. I’ve tried every pharmacy in the area and they’ve all told me to get fucked. Right idk what else to do so I’ll go to safe haven (where mentally ill people go when they’re having / about to have a crisis. And need help coz they’re feeling unstable.) I go there. Chat to the chick there she suggested I try the gender centre or 20ten or whatever. Call the gender centre. They gimme a list of numbers to try. Tried all of em. One calls me back and says to call MY endo’s place coz SURELY he’s not the only endo there. So I do. They shut THREE MINUTES AGO. (4.03pm) :))) Aight guess that’s all I can fuckin DO FOR TODAY :))) So now I’m sitting here (bbq sauce in my tiddies) / ref And idk what to do.
OH and coz the day wasn’t COOKED enough.

The buses I signed by waving for a solid 8 seconds. Both changed lanes (to make the next turn in the route) AND DROVE PAST ME!!!!! So I WALKED to safe haven!!!!

Anyways. It’s Now Thursday I have some more info. Still have the problem UNSOLVED.

Called the endo. They said they’d see if they can get the other endo to call the chemist.

Mum didn’t chuck it out on purpose but thinks I could’ve been thrown away by accident when she was cleaning (it has to have been coz it’s not in my room or any-bloody-where else.

Ive called the endo up multiple times. I’ve called my GP and he just said “you could’ve sold it so we can’t get you another one” BUT WHY WOULD I SELL IT?! W h Y?!! And it has MY NAME ON IT. NOBODYS GONNA GIVE SOMEONE AN INJECTION THAT DOESNT HAVE THEIR NAME ON IT🤌🏻 bro the fuck just gimme my boy juice 😭😭😭

So I’ve had a pretty fucked week stressing over this so I’d appreciate any ideas anyone has on how I can get my T 😭

I live in Australia so we gotta abide by those laws with giving meds n shit but if u know a way around it… or somethin pls comment at lmk I really needed this like a hole in the head 😭😭😭

You guys know what an alpine coaster is? They are like a small roller coaster you find in the mountains. They are also called summer toboggans or mountain coasters and I think there’s some long German compound word they are called in parts of Europe. They are like a roller coaster, but with much smaller one or two person sleds you just sit on instead of multi-person cars you ride in, and instead of being built with like a scaffolding or a framework the tracks are just on the ground, using the elevation of the mountain. Basically it’s a coaster track on the side of a mountain where you ride a sled down.
They are pretty fun. Or at least I used to think so. They are more “personal” than roller coasters and although you get nowhere near the speed on them that you do on a good traditional roller coaster and they can’t do corkscrews or loops or anything like that the openness and simplicity of the ride gives an impression of a much greater speed. You’re just sitting there with nothing but a little plastic sled and the track between you and the ground as it goes zooming by. It’s like the difference between how fast a go-cart feels compared to how fast a sports car feels. You know the sports car goes faster but the open, simpleness of a go-cart feels a different kind of fast. There’s plenty of POV Youtube videos if you want to get the basic idea of what they are.
I used to love alpine coasters. Used to.
My family used to go to Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge and up and down the Smokey Mountains for vacations when I was a kid and they are common in that area and I’d always rode them every chance I got.
But as with so many things after I grew up and went to college they just became part of my childhood that slipped away. They aren’t exactly common once you get away from the mountains.
Until one cool spring afternoon in 2004. I was in my final year at college and I was driving back to campus in Tennessee after a short visit to my folks in North Carolina. It was only like a 4 or 5 hour drive via the most efficient route and I had no need to be back at campus early so instead of taking the freeway all the way I got off and took part of my trip through the mountains. The scenery was nicer and I admit I liked pushing my Camaro just a little faster than I should through the twisty mountain roads.
Just after lunchtime happened upon one of those little by-the-highway tourist towns deep somewhere in the Smoky Mountains near the Carolina/Tennessee border. Nothing fancy, a gas station/truck stop, a diner, a couple of places selling tourist merch nestled deep in the mountains. I pulled into the gas station. My tank was getting low and I needed to stretch my legs, maybe grab something to eat. It was still early and I only had another couple of hours. I could kill an hour or so and still make it back to campus at a decent hour.
I pulled into the gas station and was filling my tank when I happened to glance across the road and… well I’ll be damned. There it was. “The Blue Ridge Alpine Coaster.” Nestled on the side of the mountain was a building, a mockup of a red barn, where a single railed track that led up into the mountains, where it soon got lost in the greenery. Wooden hand painted standees of cartoon character bears dressed in stereotypical “Hillbilly” getup stood around, some of them holding signs showing the ride hours and ticket costs and other info. I had to admit, as silly as it was, it made me smile.I finished pumping my gas and, well, nostalgia is a helluva thing. I decided then and there I could waste a little time riding an Alpine Coaster again after all these years before getting back on the road.
I parked my car in a corner of the truck stop's parking lot, put my phone in the center console, this being the days before smart phones when people didn’t keep their phones with them 24/7 and I didn’t want my old Nokia brick phone to fall out during the ride, locked my car and walked across the mountain highway to the Alpine Coaster building.
Getting closer, the place was less inviting. The half hearted attempt at a whimsical faux-Americana kitsch was far less effective when it brushed up against the actual decaying, run down wooden building. Hell calling it a building was generous. It was a wood frame holding up a long roof that covered the area where you got on the sleds. The wood boards creaked under my footsteps.
The only real enclosed structure was a shack that held, what I assumed, was a ticket booth. A door on the side had both a single occupancy bathroom with an out of order sign on it. An old Pepsi machine buzzed and glowed next to it.
Still the place looked alive. Ahead of me a bored looking attendant was helping a mother and her young son into one of the sleds while in a bored monotone repeating the safety brief. A few people were waiting in line at the ticket booth. Up in the mountains the playful shouts of people on the ride echoed down. Fond memories of my own childhood rides flooded my mind.10 minutes and 15 dollars later I was settling into the hard plastic seat of a bright red sled sat atop a simple aluminum rail.
I couldn’t help but grin as the sled slowly climbed the track up the mountains, making click-clack ratcheting sounds that hit my nostalgia centers hard. I felt good. The air was cool and crisp and smelled of pine.Higher and higher in the mountains we went. I don’t know if this is my mind trying to make sense of it after the fact but when I remember these moments, the last good moments, I sometimes think I remember a very slight, very subtle pit of fear in my stomach. I honestly don’t know if I felt it at the time or not or it’s just how my mind tries to make sense of it looking back at.
But either way mostly I was enjoying myself. I smiled. I was a kid again. I could hear riders in front of me let out that initial yell of terrified glee you get at the first drop of any good ride.
It peaked. I glanced around. I could see for miles, rolling hills and mountains. I the sled tipped over and zoomed down the mountain and I let out the same happy yell I heard from the other passengers.The ride zoomed down the mountain, catching speed. The mountain forest floor zoomed past, only a few feet under me. Trees zoomed past. I gave out a happy whoop as the ride banked hard around a curve and then looped back under itself.Another dip, another curve. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of the G-forces pulling me every which way.
There was no one exact single moment where things started to go “wrong.” The ride kept going. And going. At this point the first creeping thought entered my head.
The ride… was still going.
It just started to hit me… this ride was going on for a really long time. I had taken a dozen rides on various coasters of this type before that day and they topped out at about 5 minutes or so, and that was the long ones. Longer than a traditional roller coaster but not that long. This one had been going on for what felt like 10, maybe even 15 minutes.
I looked back over my shoulder and could only see trees, moving too fast to really get a bearing on where I was at in relation to anything.
I wasn't exactly really worried yet. Okay so I had found a particularly long alpine coaster. At the time I wasn’t 100% wasn't sure they didn’t exist or anything like that. I was a little… unnerved but nothing was happening that was impossible. Yet.
I was trying to talk myself back into just enjoying the ride and stop overthinking it, and halfway succeeded, when out of nowhere I suddenly banked hard, the track jutting out almost over a sheer cliffside. I gripped the sled more tightly as I was whipped around. The ride then dipped hard and picked up speed, barreling down the side of the mountain.
I was pushed back against the seat by the force of the drop. Jesus I didn’t remember them being this rough. I was feeling slightly nauseous. And where had this elevation drop come from I wondered? I was still in the foothills and I didn’t remember seeing anything but gentle rolling hills and light drops from looking at the ride’s route earlier. How the ride had managed such a long, steep drop in this area I didn’t know. . For the first time I hoped that the ride would be over soon. I had no idea then how much I would want that same hope to be true so much more as time went on.
With a whiplash motion I was whipped forward and then back as the ride leveled out on flat ground again, but by this point I was going fast, too fast. My neck hurt from the mild whiplash and I felt sour in my throat and for a moment the contents of my stomach threatened to come back up. For the first, but hardly the last time the ride felt unsafe. Alpine Coasters are tame affairs, much slower and gentler than full on roller coasters but this thing was throwing me around like no thrill ride I had ever been on.
I looked around. I mean I wasn’t that deep into the woods. I should have been able to see a glimpse of something; the highway, the gas station, the tourist shops, the Alpine Coaster office, something, anything. But nothing. Just trees.
I forced back some panic for the first time. I closed my eyes and counted to ten. The ride zoomed along. I counted to 60. I counted to 60 again. And again. Okay this was getting uncomfortably harder and harder to explain.
Suddenly I noticed that up ahead the track seemed to just end, for one brief, terrible moment I thought the track just ended but I was wrong. Almost without warning the track dipped in an almost vertical drop. I almost screamed as I plummeted for 20, maybe 30 seconds before flattening out again.
By this point the voice in my head that was telling me something was wrong was louder and I could no longer tell myself it was wrong. This ride could not have been this long. I tried to make sense of it, wondering if somehow I had gotten diverted onto some kind of maintenance track or, hell for one brief irrational moment even entertaining the idea that I had wound up on an actual train track somehow. But that was absurd. The rail below me was not a train track, it was still just the simple, aluminum rail of an alpine coaster and there had been no diversions or junctions in the track. I was still on the ride, as insane as that was starting to feel. Had the ride somehow looped? Again after having the thought I immediately dismissed it as crazy. There’s no way I could have missed the ride building where I got on. And what kind of ride loops over and over?
The sled zoomed through the forest, oddly never seeming to lose speed despite the relatively flat grade of the track. I cursed myself for leaving my phone in the car and not wearing a watch. I don’t know exactly how long I had been on the ride at that point but it felt like I had been on the ride for a half hour, maybe more. But time is a funny thing when you’re in a situation you’ve never been in. Could have been more, could have been less, at that point.
My pride finally failed me. I started to scream for help. I screamed out that the ride was broken, to stop it, that I needed help. I did that for about ten minutes or so I think. The ride kept going. Mostly flat, level track with occasional mild dips and turns. But the simple length of the ride grew more and more unnerving and unexplainable.
I thought about just bailing out. But the ride, impossibly, was still not slowing down and chunks of mountain rock and thick tree trunks were all around me. Bailing out without risking smashing into a rock or a tree seemed impossible.
The ride kept going.
Up ahead the forest was clearing out some, I could see the forest brightening, more sunlight making it through the canopy.
I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.
The trees stopped and I had just enough time to take in a flat, open area of rock maybe 40, 50 yards at most before another sheer cliff. The tracks twisted and turned and then shot straight down. But that wasn’t the worst of it. For a moment, a very short moment, I had a clear view for miles and the landscape was, to be blunt, totally impossible. Any possibility that I had just stumbled on some incredibly long ride was blasted out of my head. Barren, volcanic looking rock stretched for miles. Jagged, black rocky outcroppings as far as the eye could see. I was in the goddamn Smoky Mountains. They don’t look like that.
I had a few moments for the terror of that view to settle in before the cart plunged into another horrifying drop. I gripped the handles of the cheap plastic sled until my knuckles turned white. The drop felt completely vertical, like I was falling at terminal velocity. I screamed. My stomach dropped and turned. I imagined the sled coming away from the track and me just plummeting screaming to my death on the rocks below. But somehow the ride still functioned. I closed my eyes tightly and just waited for whatever was going to happen. Eventually after several what felt like a full minute of steep plunging the track again leveled out, and I opened my eyes to see myself moving at breakneck speed over that black, rocky landscape.
Now that I was moving on a more or less flat horizontal track again I took a few deep breaths. I looked over the edge of the track. Nothing but that black, jagged rock, almost looking like obsidian, zooming past. I had no idea how fast the sled was moving now. Fast. Faster than a gravity powered sled should be moving. And the track was higher off the ground now. Alpine slides usually stick pretty close to the ground, but I was 20 feet or so in the air, the track suspended in the air, a simple metal tube tower like a power pylon every few yards.
Without any immediate threat and the sled moving fast but steadily and level I was able to think about my situation again, for all the good that did me. Ahead of me the track just continued to the horizon, nothing but the same rocky landscape as far as I could see. I craned my neck to look back over my shoulder and looked back behind me and it looked the same. Even the mountains were but distant specs on the horizon behind me.
This was insane. There’s not a giant seemingly endless field of black jagged rock in the goddamn Smoky Mountains. There’s no cliff faces tall and steep enough for a multi-minute vertical drop. And alpine coasters were small affairs, not major engineering projects that span miles with pylons and vertical tracks. It made no sense.
Sadly it wasn’t going to start making any more sense anytime soon.
The ride kept going.
I was on this rocky landscape for several hours. I feel comfortable saying this because I could actually notice the sun getting lower in the sky. And the sled wasn’t slowing down despite the grade of the track being flat. I was getting cramped from sitting and stretched my legs and twisted my back as best I could. Didn’t do much help. My eyes were starting to get irritated from the constant wind in them. Worst of all it was starting to get chilly. I only had on a light jacket, a windbreaker, just something to keep the breeze off me, no real insulation. I was cold, my joints were stiff, I was hungry and thirsty. My eyes watered and my throat was so dry it was sore.
But none of that was as bad as just how little sense this all made. There’s nothing like this place anywhere near the Smoky Mountains. This was like some volcanic rock landscape. The more I thought about it the less sense it made.
The ride kept going.
My mind didn’t even try to process this. Whatever I was experiencing simply couldn’t be possible. I was crazy. I was dreaming. The CIA had kidnapped me and dosed me with some new version of LSD and I was in a straightjacket in a padded room at Area 51.
The sled kept zooming along as the sky turned to dusk. Soon the bridge disappeared from my view and I continued on along the endless, rocky, featureless landscape.
I sat back against the sled, mentally and physically numb. I was exhausted. I was thirsty. I was cramping up. I was hungry. I had to pee. I held it for as long as I could, then had no choice but just wet myself. I cried until I had no more tears left. Then I just sat there.
The ride kept going.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon my throat felt like sandpaper. I dug around in my jacket pockets hoping to find a stick of gum or piece of candy. Nothing. I checked again, having nothing else to do. Under a crumpled store receipt in the inner pocket of my jacket was a single old, forgotten cough drop. I unwrapped it from the paper and popped it in my mouth. Saliva flooded back into my mouth and I was overwhelmed by the methanol and medicine taste. It was something at least, although I knew it would be a brief and temporary fix at best.
I felt my eyes get heavy. It was getting colder. That mountain cold. That deep cold the mountains have even into the early spring when the sun goes down. That kind that just pulls the heat right out of you. I shivered. A terrible, horrible certainty came to me. I would ride until I passed out from exhaustion or the hypothermia set in. My body would tumble off the sled to fall and skip across the rocky ground like a stone skipping across a lake, my bones breaking as I tumbled until my body finally came to a stop. If I was lucky I would be killed and not have to lie for days, broken and bruised, on the ground until death took me.
The ride kept going. The ride kept going. The fucking ride kept going.
“Fuck you” I said to the ride, my voice a horse whisper. I pulled my jacket closer around me, for all the good it did. The cold wind was slowly but surely pulling my body heat away. My shivering got worse, crossing the line from a simple normal shiver into those deep, almost violent full body ones.. I wasn’t anything you could call an experienced outdoorsman, but I knew enough to know that wasn’t a good sign.
It was getting dark. There was a full moon at least so I wasn’t totally in the dark.
About then I noticed something. The landscape, what little I could see in the fading light, was changing. It was smoothing out, becoming less rocky and craggy. Up ahead an odd, shimmering light was starting to appear on the ground.
I was over it before I even realized what it was. The tracks were going over a smooth surface.
Water. It was a lake. The odd lights I had seen were the moon, reflected in ripples on the lake.
Within minutes I was out of the view of the land. After the nearly endless rocky landscape and everything else I had seen, it scared me how little I was shocked. I didn’t like how mentally numb I was getting. I leaned over. There was enough moonlight to see the water, 15 or 20 feet below the track. The pylons holding up the track went into the water, the light wasn’t good enough to even make a guess at how far they went down or how deep the water was.I leaned back in the sled. My eyes were red and bloodshot from the constant wind. I closed them. This was a mistake.I jerked awake. I don’t know if I dozed off for a split second or an hour. My weight had shifted and I caught myself as my center of gravity was in danger of sending me off the sled and into the water.
I screamed in anger. A deep primal scream. I hurt so bad. My joints felt like they were full of glass. My limbs were full of pins and needles. I glanced over at the water. For the first time on the very edges of my brain a tiny voice started to speak up, telling me that I could be all over if I just jumped. I shut the voice up, but it scared me still.
I sat there as the ride went on. It felt like hours. Eventually the lake ended in a rocky shore line. The damned ride. There was no safe place to bail out. If the ride slowed down, it was high in the air, if it moved toward the ground it sped up. Sharp rocks, big trees, nothing you could safely bail out into.
I kept having to force myself awake. I kept dozing off. Once I felt myself falling asleep and drove a vicious uppercut into my own nose to stave it off.
I seriously started to think about how much longer I could hang on. The voice came back again. This time I didn’t shut it up. I wasn’t admitting it to myself yet, but I was starting to think about the best way to land that would end it quickly if I needed to.
Something was ahead. The track seemed to dip into the ground. I was too tired, too beaten to even get scared. I was just resigned to whatever happened at this point.
With little warning the track took my sled into a tunnel in the ground. Everything went completely pitch black. After several moments even the dim moonlight was gone.
This was the worst part. The creepy forest, the immense rocky landscape, the eerie lake… those were bad. But this was just nothing. Nothing to look at, nothing to hear, nothing for reference or sense of where I was going. The walls of the tunnel felt like they were inches from me in every direction. The air felt thick, like there wasn’t enough oxygen.
With every moment I was in that tunnel I lost a little more hope. After a long, long time I made a decision. When I got out of this tunnel, I would jump. I didn’t care anymore. Hopefully there would be a spot where I could be certain the fall would instantly kill me. I was done. The ride had beaten me. I sat there, waiting for a chance to end this on my terms. That was all I had left.
Eventually up ahead, a tiny speck of light appeared. I gathered my strength, ready to end it. I sat up, getting my legs under me so I could jump as soon as we were clear. The sled burst out of the tunnel. The dim light of the full moon was enough to be momentarily blinding after the pitch black of the tunnel.. I gave my eyes a moment to adjust.
I was back in a normal looking Appalachian forest. Rolling hills, green trees. The air smelled of pine again. I heard an owl hoot off somewhere.
Slowly I lowered myself back into a setting position, in shock. At first I refused to believe it but the ride was slowing down. I held still, making sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me, but no, the cheap plastic sled that had been my world for what felt like an eternity was slowing down.
Up ahead, a structure was visible, peeking out from among the trees in the dim lighting as the sled moved down the track.
It was the Alpine Slide building. The crappy fake red barn where I had boarded this cursed ride so long ago. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, sure it was either my mind or the cursed ride playing tricks with me. But the building stayed there.
It grew closer and closer. The track leveled completely out. The sled slowed down more. Before I had the time to really come to terms with it I arrived back at the building.
The sled slowed to a stop, gently pumping against another sled parked on the track. I sat there for a few moments, gasping in great big gulping fear breaths, trying to assure myself the ride didn’t have one last trick of its sleeve.
I looked around. The place was empty, deserted. The overhead lights were still on and the old Pepsi machine still glowed and buzzed, but the ticket booth was dark and empty, a metal gate pulled down over the ticket window.
Suddenly it hit me that I was free and I practically leapt out of the sled and onto the platform. I immediately collapsed. My legs were jelly and my head was spinning. I tried to stand up again and doubled over, dry heaving. Have you ever been out on a boat for a day and have that weird reverse motion sickness when you’re back on solid land? It was like that times a hundred. My inner ear was literally pounding, all the motion had really done a number on it.
I laid there for a few moments and eventually forced myself to stand up on my two wobbling legs. I looked around, a horrible certainty creeping into my mind that there would be no exit, no way off the platform but to my relief an exit turnstyle, one of those full height ones, was set into the fence that surrounded the ride property.
I went through it and found myself back on the main road. The truckstop was still there, still open but far less busy. My car sat in the same corner of the parking lot I had left it.
I allowed myself one look back, just one quick one. The metal skeleton of the Alpine Slide track sat there, dark and quiet but otherwise normal.
I stumbled-ran back to my car, dug the keys out of my pocket, and collapsed inside. When the door shut I let out a primal scream, the tons of fear and confusion and anger all fusing into a single, raw emotion. I screamed again and again.
After a few moments I felt like I was emotionally at least back to a place where I could act, although I wasn’t sure yet what to do next. Not really knowing what to do I cranked the car. The A/C had been on low when I shut off the car and it came roaring back to life and cold air blowing on me almost sent me back into a full on panic attack. I fumbled with the climate controls until the air stopped blowing directly on me, then calmed down enough to turn the heat on, helping to get the chill out of my bones. There was a half full bottle of water in the center console cup holder and I grabbed it and chugged it. Nothing ever tasted as good before or sense as that few ounces of water.
That was when I noticed the clock on the radio head unit. It was 4:17 in the morning. It had been about one, one thirty or so in the afternoon when I got on the accursed ride.
Over 15 hours. I had been on the goddamn ride for over 15 hours. Over half a day.
I just sat there. Warming up. Calming down. I was exhausted. I was dehydrated. I can’t even describe how my head felt. I probably had at least a minor case of hypothermia. I thought about going into the gas station and asking for help but what would I even say, and more than anything I just wanted to get away from this place. And I just wanted to get away. I wanted to be nowhere near that damn ride.
I put the Camaro in gear and pulled into the street and in panic I immediately slammed on the brakes. I was lucky there was no traffic on the road at that moment. The feeling of accelerating to just normal surface street speeds made me sick to my stomach. I gathered myself and very slowly accelerated the car I usually treated with a very heavy foot up to 30 miles an hour. Every time I tried to accelerate at a pace faster than “Old Lady Going to Church, Uphill” I would have a panic attack. I was okay once I was up to speed, but accelerating freaked me out after being on that ride.
I drove about 30 minutes, putting some arbitrary amount of distance between myself and the coaster. Eventually I made it back to where the twisty mountain road met back up with a major road that would eventually meet back up with the highway. After a few more minutes of driving I saw the onramp for the highway. There was one of those big truckstop travel plazas and pulled in, parking right up at the door. I smelled like pee and I can only imagine how I looked, but I didn’t care.
I kept a couple of emergency 20s in the back of my wallet and spent it on the biggest bottle of water the store had, an overpriced bottle of eye drops, and a huge travel mug of coffee. The clerk looked at me as if he was expecting me to either drop dead or rob him the entire time.
Back in my car I downed the coffee. I put a few eye drops in each of my eyes and sat there as the caffeine took effect until I felt like I could make it back to my apartment. The sun was just coming up when I finally pulled out of the truck stop and got on the freeway. I slowly, very slowly, accelerated up to highway speed, put the Camaro in cruise control, and let the miles start to drift away. I turned on the radio, I needed to hear human voices. Every time my mind went back to what had just happened I turned the radio up louder, eventually drowning it out with painful levels of rock music. I wasn’t ready to think about it yet. Yes looking back I know I was just in denial. I finally made it back to the crappy little apartment I had off campus, a little two story walk up studio. I let myself in and collapsed on the cheap couch. I was asleep before I even had the time to decide whether or not to do anything else. I woke up later that afternoon. I took a shower and ate a meal and didn’t think about the ride. I washed the pee stained filthy clothes I had been wearing and didn’t think about the ride. I went back to class and didn’t think about the ride. Every time I thought about the ride I forced it out of my head. I’m sure this wasn’t the most mentally healthy thing to do but what can you say?
I didn’t forget about it, don’t be silly. This isn’t the kind of thing you forget. One day while looking up something else in the university’s library my curiosity got the better of me and I looked up the Alpine Slide. No website but a few Google Map and Yelp mentions. None of them mentioned anything weird, certainly nothing even remotely like what I experienced. Near as I can tell it closed sometimes in the winter of 2012.
Life went on. I mean, that’s what it does. The next day was a little better. And the day after that a little better. And the day after that a little better still. I met a nice girl. Graduated. Got married. Got a nice house in the suburbs. Got a dog. Had a daughter. Spent a lot of time happy and not thinking about being trapped on an endless alpine coaster.And that was my life for many, many years after that.
Until a few weeks back when as a very different person I found myself driving a boring and safe mid sized family SUV through those same mountains. My wife Carol, 5 months pregnant, sat in the passenger seat, our 6 year old daughter Emily in a booster seat in the back, and Max our mixed breed mutt next to her. It had been a nice pleasant trip, driving back from visiting her folks.
I hadn’t thought about that fucking ride in so long I barely registered that I was in the same general area until it was too late. Suddenly I realized that little mountain tourist trap town was only a few minutes down the road. I swallowed hard and gripped the steering wheel hard. Carol was looking out the window at the scenery and Emily was deep into some kid’s Youtube video on an iPad. I forced myself to keep my breath steady as we rounded the corner.The town was still there, sorta. Time had not been kind to it. The gas station was still there, at some point it had been bought out by Shell. The tourist trap shops were still there. One of them was now a vape shop. The diner was closed, the building looking like it sat unused for a long time.
But of course that’s not what I cared about. A looked over at the site where the Alpine Coaster once stood. It was gone. The kitschy fake barn was gone. The site was just a bare concrete slab with a chainlink fence around it. Faded “no trespassing” and “for sale” signs hung off the fence. A pile of old, decaying lumber that might have once long ago been part of the structure covered part of the old lot. No sign of the track remained outside of some old concrete support posts dotting the side of the mountain.
I exhaled out a breath I hadn’t even realized I had been holding in. Soon the little town disappeared in my rear view mirror.
About a half hour later we stopped for gas. I pulled up to a gas pump across from a massive motorhome. Max stuck his head out the window and started barking at a little white dog, a toy breed of some kind, in the window of the motorhome. Carol and Emily immediately headed into the store to restock on snacks while I fueled up.
I stood there, a half smile on my lips as Max barked and wagged his tail in an attempt to attract the attention of the other dog while I filled up the tank, said dog doing an admirable job of ignoring him.
Right about the time I finished fueling up and cleaning the bugs off the windshield Carol returned from inside the store, Emily in tow, arms filled with two full sized bags of Salt and Vinegar Potato Chips and what looked to be a half dozen individually wrapped pickles.
I raised an eyebrow at the collection of food but knew better than to question a pregnant woman's snack choices.
“Should we take Max for a quick walk?” Carol asked. The travel plaza had a nice little gated dog walking area off to the side.
“Yeah probably not a bad idea, he’s been cooped up in the car for a few hours.” I said. Max, upon hearing his name and the word “walk” , forgot about the other dog and upgraded from wagging his tail to wagging his entire body while making whining sounds and staring right at me.
About this time I became half aware that the big motor home next to us was pulling away. I didn’t think much of it, outside of doing a quick automatic mental check to make sure Emily was well clear of the moving vehicle, but she was safely between me and our SUV, well out of the way.
But that was when Emily looked behind me and cheerfully yelled “Daddy look a roller coaster! Can I ride the coaster?”
It’s cliche as fuck I know but my blood went cold.
I turned around slowly, certain in my knowledge that terrible old decrepit Alpine Coaster would be there, having just popped into existence to trap me again.
That.. is not what I saw. Sure enough there was a coaster there, one I hadn’t noticed earlier because it had mostly been blocked by the motor home, but there it was. It was even an Alpine Coaster.
But it was not the same coaster I had encountered those years ago. That was immediately obvious. It was a small but modern and newish looking setup with neon lights and a bunch of people. There was an actual building where you bought tickets and a little snack stand.
“Daddy! Can we go on the coaster!” Emily asked again.
My mouth made motions but no words came out. I glanced over at Carol, hoping she’d say we didn’t have time but to my horror she smiled and said “You know what? That does sound like fun. Daddy will take you while I take Max for a walk.”
My mind raced, trying to think of a way to get out of it. But Emily was already dragging me across the parking lot to the entrance.
I patted my pocket, making sure my phone was in it. Every fiber of my being was screaming to run away. I slept walked through the line and the ticket booth while Emily bounced happily.
We got into a two seat plastic sled. This one was actually a lot nicer than the one my mind wouldn’t stop thinking about. It had two nice cushioned seats, big grab handles, even a nice rollbar.
The sled started up the track. I fought back the panic. I swerved my head around, keeping the building in my view. I was terrified of losing sight of it. We made it to the top and Emily did a happy squeal as we started down the side of the mountain.
My heart raced. Any second, any second my mind told me we’d lose sight of the building and then the ride would never end. The ride sped down the mountain. My mind tortured me with thoughts of not only going through it again, but seeing Emily go through it. The ride went around a big, banking turn. Emily kept shouting happily. How long before Carol reported us missing I wondered? Could I keep Emily calm? What if it lasted even longer this time? What if this time it never ended?
And then we were back at the start of the ride. The same attendant who had helped us into the sled was helping Emily out. I stepped out. The attendant gave me a brief look but said nothing. I guess I looked a little wild eyed.
I was fine. Emily was fine. It had been a perfectly normal, fun ride.
“That was fun Daddy! Thank you!” Emily said. I forced a smile back. “It was fun.” I responded, hoping like I sounded like I meant it.
I took Emily’s hand and we walked back to the car. Max saw us coming and barked happily. Carol looked up from the pint of Ben and Jerry’s she had somehow acquired and added to her snack collection while we were gone and smiled at us.
“Did you have fun?” she asked.
“It was so fun Mommy!” Emily said.
Carol smiled down at her, but then looked at me and frowned. “Are you okay?” Carol could read my face a lot better than the attendant could. “You’re pale.”
I smiled and this time the smile felt real. “Ya know what. Yeah, I think I am okay.”
Carol looked a little puzzled, but didn’t press it. We loaded Emily back in her booster seat, stopped Max from trying desperately to eat half a discarded gas station hot dog off the ground and got him back in the car. Carol and her small collection of snack food took her place in the passenger seat and I got in the driver's seat.I smiled. I cranked the car. I put it in gear. I pulled out of the gas station and back on the road, this time accelerating just a little faster than I had in years.

Recently I’ve been using corn tortillas for everything. Chicken/tuna salad, dips, lunch meat, leftovers, eggs. It’s been a decently easy and inexpensive substitute for bread. Gf bread is expensive and molds easily in my house. This has allowed me to eat a lot more than I normally would be and I’m glad about it. It’s also less calories than white bread so that’s nice.
I also make them into chips in the oven and keep a paper bag full and pretend I went to chipotle

After a string of incidents on my route today I came to a grim conclusion about my chosen profession. It's long been common knowledge amazon DAs don't really garner as much respect as postal carriers or even the UPS/FedEx driver though our job is the same as theirs. Furthermore, most interactions I've ever had with customers are negative and even the somewhat positive ones seem to come from a false assumption. Why do you always ask what's in the box? We don't know.
I was accosted about delivering someone's package to the wrong house when my label had the correct address and while receiving this woman's attitude and her shoving the completed picture in my face she kept saying, "You not paying attention?" but her picture was a brown paper bag...Inhad not delivered one of those. I informed her I was not the only truck on route and then she checked her door and found her package delivered correctly by someone else before I had arrived. She never apologized.
Then I was attacked by a dog. It usually barks as I pull up but the yard was quiet so I thought it must be inside. I got through the gate and approached the deck and found it, maybe it was as napping...Anyways it came at me and as I backpedaled I used the package as a muzzle and kept it on the dogs mouth so it couldn't bite me. Dropped the package over the fence and the owner then came out as I was getting in the van and shouted "sorry!" so, I suggested she have the dog up next time we're coming in a polite way but did inform her that it almost bit me. She became infuriated and screamed at me that I can always drop it over the fence but that's not in her instructions and there are no signs in the yard so I told her it would just be safer for everyone if the dog was put up.
Why are we so disrespected? We do the same thing your mail person and the ups drivers do. What is it about us that makes customers think they're so much better than we are? We're people too. I could have stabbed the dog it would have been within my rights. I could have ignored the other lady, it wasn't even a package assigned to me. Yet I tried to help both people because I understand, unlike them, that we're all people.