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.

Imagine being told the house would take 10-13 months to build. And then imagine being assigned a crappy construction manager named Kevin Thornton and waiting 18+ months for the completion of your home, who seemed to only been hired because his brother Chris Thornton was already a construction manager for the company.
Being told 4 false closing dates. Having to lose a good interest rate because they don’t know how to build a house within a reasonable time. I’ve seen whole apartment complexes built in the time we’ve been waiting.
Having to reach out to said construction manager and the sale consultant Zac Davidson every single month to get an update when you were told you would get an update roughly every two weeks. Being lied to every single month. Trish is also a dishonest unprofessional woman who constantly dodges phone calls and lies about everything.
Finding a crappy job being done in the primary bathroom shower and them having to rip it out and start over again, because part of the shower wall was bowing out into a triangle shape and the small square tiles were not flat and straight with tons of extra grout around them. Having a crappy grading job where 1/3 of the back yard is unusable. And nothing can be done about it, Holiday Builders just loves cheap labor.
Going through a full roll of blue painters tape to point out all the flaws in the construction, where the manager will run out of tape, but luckily we brought some to continue using half the roll. And they still didn’t fix everything the first go around, where we had to call them back multiple times to fix the issues described at the first walkthrough, after closing. You’ll find paint on every single door handle in the house. And paint splatter all over your floors. Different caulking colors used on the countertops right next to each other. You’ll ask them to paint the water access water into the home because it looked like crap the first time and then they’ll make it worse and also paint the grass and gutter runoff as well because they simple don’t give a hoot about anything.
They even had to rip up two parts of the yard to have water and septic lines in place inspected because they forgot and now we’re stuck with even more shitty grading and yard work because of that.
They’ll schedule exterior stuff after laying sod down that end up leaving the yard dug up and not manicured and looking like trash. And then you’ll wait weeks for them to come fix it.
They give you a smart door lock that’s supposed to come with the Rekeying tool, but they won’t give it to you for unspecified reasons, even though you paid for it. You’ll ask if the front door lock is a smart/Wi-Fi compatible one. They’ll say no, but after reading the manual you’ll find out it is. They don’t even know how the products they’re installing works!
Being told a shower door for the primary bathroom isn’t even included after finding out 1 week before closing, seems like their architects failed physics, because water still gets out the shower with a door there if it’s it recessed. Finding out that something as inexpensive as cabinet handles are not included and finding out after the first walkthrough that they’re an “expensive upgrade”, when it was never mentioned during the upgrades selection. Why would I upgrade to 42” upper cabinets and soft close but not op for handles, does that make sense to you. Paying nearly 400k for a house and they can’t even do these simple thing’s correctly or offer these simple things as standard. What if someone had a disability and opening cabinets without handles is extremely difficult for them. Holiday Builders doesn’t give a single hoot about you if that’s the case.
When blinds and a refrigerator and a washer and dryer and a garage door openers are already not included. I would expect the said things above be STANDARD! And a sales consultant that only cares about his paycheck and his ego, than the customer named Zac Davidson, who won’t let you know certain basic things are an upgrade. Zac Davidson is a man that gets his feelings hurt when he gets caught in a lie and starts to be disrespectful when he doesn’t agree with something you’re trying to explain to him.
Holiday builders doesn’t care about the customer. They only care about their wallets. They’ll rush to get the CO before having everything installed. In hopes of you signing before notice they put a hole in your drywall while installing your shelves. Or better yet the construction manager won’t even walkthrough the house prior to have any touch ups or fixes done before the first walk through. We found out our water heater wasn’t even hooked up correctly after closing. Holiday Builders are real comedians.
The trades that they hire can’t even get simple things done like paint and caulking and not painting the floor and door handles, we basically covered the whole house in blue tape and only 50% of it was taken care it. 50% of the trims around the door frames were missing paint and the other 50% looked like a blind man painted the door frames, thick goops of paint and splatter everywhere. They’ll even make sure the caulking where the base boards meet the dry wall has spider web cracking in every single ROOM. Every single one of these trades and construction managers need glasses because I do not honestly understand how you can be proud of your work and let customers find this type of garbage work.
We were so fed up with this process we ended up just fixing all of the issues ourselves. Don’t build with them unless you’re okay with paying for upgrades on basic things that should be standard and you’ll have to ask the construction managers like they’re a 4th grader if they completed their homework. And having to do all the basic touch ups yourselves. It’s extremely frustrating and sad that I can’t be excited about being my first home because of this shitty fucking experience. Also any response to this review will be taken as passive aggressive, if you state that this was taken care of because it wasn’t, everything still looks like shit.
The plumbers and septic company they use suck too. We’re still dealing with sewage smells in our home that they can’t figure out. Constant back ups due to poor plumbing ventilation and workmanship. The plumbers came to investigate and didn’t even have any of the right tools or equipment to do anything and had to borrow my equipment. If you’re wondering which clowns they use. Naber Plumbing and Brain David Septic.
They even under size the AC unit tonnage for the home. Your AC will run for 18 hours a day. I found that they didn’t even seal the area for where the cold air comes out the air handler. It was just blowing all the cold air into the AC room and into the attic. Mechanical One don’t know what they’re doing and Holiday Builder takes shortcuts everywhere they can with undersizing your AC unit and going with the cheapest labor.
Every single builder in the area builds homes faster than these clowns.
Holiday Builders suck. Ever heard the saying lazy people work twice. Everything about their workmanship is trash. The construction managers do not inspect work done by the trades after it is completed. Their scheduling sucks too. They lie about everything, every step of the way. Don’t build with them. We’re still finding issues every single damn day with this house. Don’t make the mistake of building with Holiday Builders. Build with Maronda or anyone else other than this clowns. Zac Davison sucks. Trish sucks. Chris Thornton sucks and his brother Kevin Thornton sucks even more, Steve Pettko sucks. Chris Cubillos Suck.

Hi everyone,
I wanted to share with you my response to the introduction found in the only edition of Use of the Self currently in print. I believe it's a rather misleading intro to FM Alexander's work, so I'm sharing this in the hope that I can help clear up misconceptions people may have about the Alexander Technique, not derived only from Anthony Kingsley, but many bland blog posts one tends to encounter when researching the Alexander Technique. That said, this is not intended to be an introduction of its own, but rather something experienced students, teachers, and anyone enthusiastically learning the Technique may find useful. In the tradition of Alexander himself, I've included extensive footnotes, some painfully long. I'm happy to answer any questions or otherwise discuss what I've written. Understand these are my own interpretations and opinions about what some call "the work," so take them as you will. I've taken lessons for a number of years and currently am training as a teacher, so my view of the Technique is based on these experiences, as well as my interpretations of Alexander's writings. Some of these interpretations you may object to, but I hope you find my arguments reasonable.
Response to Anthony Kingsley's Introduction to The Use of the Self
The Use of the Self may be FM Alexander's most important work, since it contains his own account of how he developed what is now called the Alexander Technique. While Alexander's other volumes are available from Mouritz, the only edition of The Use of the Self currently in print is published by Orion Spring. This edition replaces the philosopher John Dewey's introduction—which praises the technique's "genuinely scientific character"—with one by the contemporary teacher Anthony Kingsley, who is heralded on the book's front cover as a "leading Alexander Technique teacher." Therefore it is probable that many readers' first impressions of the Alexander Technique will be framed by Mr. Kingsley's opinions. I submit this is problematic, since his introduction is in my view contradictory to fundamental principles of the Alexander Technique. I write this response to address the introduction's two most dire faults: Kingsley's misrepresentation of the concepts inhibition and direction, and his dismissal of the concept of the primary control. I'll begin with the second, since it is a more straightforward error.
Primary Control
Kingsley opens his paragraphs on the primary control with the opinion that the concept should be "recast," then describes Alexander's definition of the primary control as a "particular relationship of his head, neck and back [that] acted as a master reflex that conditioned his whole organism." Then he discards this definition, claiming the head-neck-back relativity should instead be "regarded as an indicator[sic] of overall health rather than an area considered in isolation." He concedes the "region of the neck and back is a [...] barometer of our state of being," but concludes that "no single element is actually primary," since our eyes, breath, digestive system, and all other psychophysical elements are "simultaneous and interdependent" and also like barometers. Finally, he reveals his "recast" of the primary control, defining it as "the unknown and unseen self-righting and self-healing mechanism that can be restored and vitalized."
In sum, Mr. Kingsley has presented the primary control—which Alexander wrote extensively about and considered central to his technique—with an ill-defined mystical force which, accordingly, Alexander must have unwittingly stumbled upon and mistaken for a certain relativity of the head, neck and back.
Ironically, it is in The Use of the Self where Alexander wrote of discovering the necessity to first free his neck in seeking a better condition for his vocal apparatus, since that was the sine qua non of taking his head forward and up, of widening the back, and so forth, which are in turn the necessary conditions of freedom and stability in the limbs. This is the genesis of Alexander's use of the word "primary" in describing the head-neck-back relationship, and in my experience, as in Alexander's, it holds true: the sequence of directions given to oneself matters greatly, since tense feet, for example, can hardly flatten on the floor if the head is taken back and down, whereas the head can be taken "forward and up"1 to a fine degree even if there is tension in the lower extremities, particularly while sitting. Further, and maybe most significantly, the relativity of the head-neck-back rarely need change during any manner of activity, whereas the arms and legs are constantly bending, rising, stretching, and so on. Small wonder Alexander considered this relativity primary.
Of course, Kingsley is not wrong to point out the interdependence of all processes in the body. It is certainly true that undue tension in the feet creates a downward pull on the head, neck and back. Yet what is crucial to understand here is that in the context of learning and teaching the Alexander Technique, the primary control is an indispensable concept. It instructs the pupil to guide his or her attention through the body in the sequence most fit to facilitate proper relativity of all the parts, and it names succinctly that natural, visible, dynamic yet enduring relativity of the head, neck and back observable in little children and animals as well as many great musicians and athletes. Thus Kingsley discards a practical concept in favor of a truism about "interdependence;" and so we come to his second, graver error.
Direction
Here it begins to seem that what Kingsley writes of in his introduction is not the Alexander Technique at all, but in fact the Kingsley Technique, since he has redefined not only the primary control, but two other conceptual pillars of the technique: inhibition and direction.
First, he takes aim at direction, neglecting to elucidate Alexander's own definition of the concept before setting out the axiom that "aiming for postural improvements using postural directions leads to a bodymind[sic] attitude of effort and trying, which simply reinforces the problem." Dismissing as superfluous all "ideas and images about heads, necks and backs," he declares that "the trying[sic] self is the obstacle, and the shift towards a non-trying[sic] self is the solution." Finally, he offers his own definition of the directions as "the natural flow of energy and vibrancy that exists within the organism," directions which are interfered with "when we are in a condition of stress and reactivity."
Here, again, Kingsley takes a practical concept which Alexander developed based on careful observation of his own muscular action, and replaces it with a kind of mystical or spiritual phenomenon which, implicitly, only the initiated can perceive.2 Thus the famous directions are not, as Alexander described repeatedly, a series of mental orders or intentions projected to oneself before and during muscular activity along lines one has reasoned out in advance, but a "natural flow of energy and vibrancy"—just as the primary control is not, as Alexander saw it, a concrete, observable relativity of the head, neck and back, but an "unknown and unseen self-righting and self-healing mechanism." These pseudo-spiritual definitions do a massive disservice to neophyte readers, and reveal Kingsley's muddled seeing in relation to the central problem addressed by the Alexander Technique: how to shed habit and coordinate the bodymind through reasoned conception and conscious awareness.
But for a moment let us leave aside direction, since a subtler and more misleading error still lurks in Kingsley's presentation: his dismissal of conception itself. He explicitly warns that "ideas, concepts and cognitive efforts reinforce the very mental instrument that is the problem in the first place," he advises us to simply trust that "the prevention or inhibition[sic] of reaction, maintains or liberates this stream of energy [or direction] in the body."
To understand Kingsley's error, we must return to Alexander. In Man's Supreme Inheritance, Alexander sets out four stages to the "performance of any muscular action by conscious guidance and control:"

1. The conception of the movement required;
2. The inhibition of erroneous preconceived ideas which subconsciously suggest the manner in which the movement or series of movements should be performed;
3. The new and conscious mental orders which will set in motion the muscular mechanism essential to the correct performance of the action;
4. The movements (contractions and expansions) of the muscles which carry out the mental orders.

Alexander considered "conception of the movement required" the very first stage in his technique, to precede even inhibition. Thus he made clear, if indirectly, that in the context of his technique, clear conception is essential to achieving a desired end. Incidentally, this is a fact any competent artist can attest to; if a composition is not unambiguously understood and organized within one's memory, it cannot be brought to fruition. Even the most simple act, such as extending one's arm to grasp a nearby object, requires a detailed conception of distance, weight, strength, and so forth; if the object turns out to be heavier than expected, the conception of these variables and their relation to one another, and hence the muscular action, must change. This is direction in action, albeit subconscious.
Yet Kingsley belittles conception, instead leaning on concepts like "ease," "letting go" "acceptance," and the like. He is not alone in this among teachers, but in my opinion, they overlook the influence of what Alexander termed "erroneous beliefs," a concept closely related to that of "unreliable sensory appreciation." Both could be read in the spiritual lexicon alongside "letting go," etc.; but that would place their referent outside the realm of what words and concepts can describe. On the contrary, Alexander was pointing to something concrete and empirically observable: to errors of spatio-motor perception able to be observed phenomenologically and in other people's behavior; not to transcendent truths about observation itself. Thus the classic example of an Alexandrian "erroneous belief" is a person who raises their arm and believes their shoulder has remained still when it has not. The key for the pupil in this instance is to gain an accurate conception5 of their own muscular action, in reference to bodily sensations; not to simply "let go" or "do nothing."3 And this conception must come about through active tutelage—e.g. Alexander Technique lessons—or, dare I say, the way Alexander himself did it: by reasoned experimentation, conceiving hypotheses based on careful register and analysis of his own sensations, and also by watching the behavior of others. John Dewey called the technique scientific for a reason.
All of this is not to understate the importance of concepts like "release" and "effortlessness," including in the context of the Alexander Technique. Seeing more or less what is meant by them is doubtless the key to mastery of all activities, all practices, all techniques. Yet those spiritual concepts should not blot out the very concrete technique Alexander developed for improving what he called "the use of the self:" that coordination of the muscular system, achieved through conscious reason, which influences for better or worse the functioning of the whole organism.4
Inhibition
So much for direction. What about inhibition? Under the heading "Inhibition and Non-Doing," Kingsley describes Alexander's understanding of inhibition as "an artificial pause between stimulus and reaction," after which he could "give directions to himself." Then he lays down the gauntlet, stating that in the "real world […] life does not offer us the choice to inhibit:" since according to neuroscience research, "neural reactions take milliseconds and are faster than conscious thought processes." In other words, "we either react to the stimulus, or not." So, with inhibition proven impossible, Kingsley is left with no choice but to "reformulate" another of Alexander's concepts, offering us a supposedly scientifically enlightened6 view that inhibition is really "a quality of non-doing[sic] that needs to be already available in the organism before the receipt of a stimulus." This is "a way of being[sic] rather than a way of doing[sic]."
This Kingsleyan inhibition turns out to be the essence of the technique, since it is this very "condition of non-doing[sic]" the teacher is supposed to transmit, through a touch Kingsley describes as "a dance of poetry and a symphony of silence." With it, the teacher imparts a "deep sense of acceptance" by which "change emerges in the pupil."7 He goes on to compare the Alexander Technique to "Zen Buddhism, mindfulness and the philosophy of non-duality," identifying the uniqueness of the Alexander Technique in "the transmission of immediate experience." In fact, there is no Alexander Technique as such, but only inhibition:
The Chinese Tao has a concept of Wu Wei[sic], which translates as surrendering to the effortless flow of life[sic], or non-doing[sic] action. Ultimately, the Alexander Technique needs to reinvent itself and relinquish the Technique. The Alexander Teacher really teaches nothing[sic!]. But this nothing or emptiness is in fact the deepest essence of being and the fullness of life. Like grace, it drops onto us and into us when the conditions are ripe.
The problem is that Alexander's own writings indicate that inhibition is not a "quality," a "condition," or a "surrendering to the effortless flow of life." On the contrary, according to Universal Constant in Living, it is "the act of refusing to respond to the primary desire to gain an end, [which] becomes the act of responding (volitionary act) to the conscious reasoned desire to employ the means whereby that end may be gained." As clear as day: inhibition is an action in response to the stimulus of conscious desire: a conscious, continuing refusal to do a thing the way one normally does it. Alexander saw that this inhibitory act had to precede in every instance any attempt to change his habits. Everyone is well familiar with the inhibitory act. The act of not indulging an immediate desire, however small, is it. So, inhibition is not an "artificial pause," but a phenomenologically observable process within the organism, a process that can be made habitual through practice. It is no more abstract and transcendent than blinking or moving one's finger.7
Here Kingsley again takes something ordinary and concrete and makes it mystical, going so far as to "relinquish the Technique." The trouble is that there is a good reason the Alexander Technique came to be known as such. A technique is a skillful way of doing something; a mental tool; a procedure. Ways of doing can be found everywhere: techniques for dance, for romance, for healing, even for attaining nirvana or enlightenment. Each has a goal in mind and is based on what worked in the past; each resorts to concepts to explain itself; each prescribes action, or doing something a certain way. Yet Kingsley dismisses the idea of doing anything at all. Equating the Alexander Technique with "nothing," he tosses out the concepts Alexander spent decades refining, when Alexander's genius was precisely to conceive a useful, coherent way of doing things through patient observation of the phenomena he termed inhibition, direction, primary control, and the rest.
So, the technique may encompass all the acts of living, but it is still a technique. Alexander often used the term "procedure" to describe it, and I think procedure is as apt a word as any to describe the application of his technique to the acts of living. He constantly stressed the technique's sequential, stepwise nature and recorded countless practical examples of it in action, both in hypotheticals and accounts of lessons. The technique is not a metaphysics or a philosophy like non-duality; it is a practical procedure with a clear purpose: restoring
advantageous, natural relativity of the head, neck and back.
Conclusion
The technique is blindingly simple but surprisingly subtle and difficult to master; and, as far as I am aware, it is unique. Unfortunately, Kingsley is not alone in overlooking the uniqueness and subtleties of the technique in favor of spiritual truisms and platitudes. I suspect there are two main reasons for this.
The first is the tendency of serious pupils of the technique to become more open to "spirituality," both philosophically (e.g. non-duality) and in terms of sadhana (e.g. meditation, yoga, self-inquiry). Many are enthusiastic about the similarities between the Alexander Technique and, for example, mindfulness practice. It is certainly true that the technique requires the pupil to have some degree of "mindfulness," or the ability to realize when the mind has wandered; and it is also true that a few people who devote themselves to the technique come upon some of the same insights one might find in spiritual practice. Yet spiritual insight is not the purpose of the technique. In my opinion, the Alexander Technique is a relative of energy practices such as Hatha yoga, qigong, and TRE (trauma release exercises). Such techniques are often used in tandem with spiritual practices meant for the cultivation of insight, but their purpose has traditionally been preparatory and salutary, not "spiritual." One need not stray too esoteric to encounter the idea that the real goal of spirituality has nothing to do with "ways of doing." On the other hand, Qigong explicitly aims to regulate qi in the body; kundalini yoga is concerned with the flow of prana; the Alexander Technique seeks to restore the good use of the primary control. More practically, the technique teaches mental discipline, and ultimately the ability of the nervous system to regulate itself. Such a practice may lay the groundwork for spiritual realization, but it is by no means indistinguishable from it.
While there is no point speculating about Alexander's private insights, one thing can be certain: he left us a definite procedure with a practical, concrete purpose—not a transcendental one. Yet Kingsley's introduction continually implies the Alexander Technique is an essentially spiritual practice with heavenly fruit. Disparaging the core concepts that constitute the Alexander Technique, he invites us instead to simply "surrender," "let go in faith," and blindly trust that its real essence—nothing less than Wu Wei—will be transmitted through the "rare, "unconditional" touch of the teacher.
The second, more obvious reason Alexander has been so misunderstood is that he rarely wrote concisely, and in any case, recognition and conception of the primary control can never be refined through words, but only through unfamiliar sensory experiences—either reasoned out, as Alexander did, or in the hands of a good teacher. Hence there is more than a kernel of truth to Kingsley's view of the "supreme value of guidance with the hands;" yet I differ from him in that I insist the Alexander Technique cannot be divorced from intellectual understanding and, indeed, conception.
The Use of the Self and Alexander's other works certainly were not without their flaws, but at their best they illuminate concepts which are nuanced, rich, and useful when applied. Primary control, direction and inhibition are three such concepts. Whatever their flaws, Alexander's books point the way to a wonderful technique, and they deserve thoughtful, probing introductions like Dewey's—not dismissals.
1 Like many other Alexandrian terms, the concrete meaning of "forward and up" seems incredibly controversial among Alexander Technique teachers. While I conceive it roughly as freedom of the atlanto-occipital joint, the term cannot be understood in isolation from the rest of the parts—namely, from one's conception of the primary control. It seems to experience it, one must discover it, as Alexander did, or be shown it by a teacher.
2 This is not to say there are not phenomena only some people perceive.
3An overemphasis on "letting go" and the like obscures the fact that Alexander always described the technique as consisting of stages or sequential steps, which in my opinion constitute the "means whereby" he wrote of.
4 "Use of the self" is another problematic term. Related to the concept of "good form" and "good technique" among athletes and musicians, it refers essentially to coordination of the musculature along reasoned lines, which is not separate from conception of the primary control. Equal and opposite is the term "misuse," since one's idea of misuse depends on one's idea of good use. Different teachers understand the term differently. Kingsley states that "bodily tensions and distortions become fixed and reinforced as we react to the general stimuli of living." True enough. Yet he goes on to imply it is associated only with fear, anxiety and distress. Again he couples this concept to the language of contemporary spirituality, trumpeting that it "alienates us from our own true nature." This is to completely ignore the point Alexander returned to again and again in his own writing: that the use of the self is inextricably linked with conception. No doubt, tension and imbalance are very often inextricable from fear. But there may be another class of misuse: one based on misconceptions about the body, unexamined movement patterns from childhood which have little or nothing to do with manifestations of stress or emotions in the body. I suspect one may experience profound psychophysical quietude yet still tend to throw their head back and down in relation to their neck and back, especially in movement.
5Kingsley writes that the teacher's touch indicates the "negation of trying and doing within the pupil." Even a token mention of guidance viz. the relativity of the body parts is nowhere to be found. Yet in my opinion this discussion of touch is misleading, since nothing like it can be found at all in Alexander's writings. On the contrary, Alexander stressed that the teacher's role was to demonstrate manually the proper relativity of the pupil's parts, with the means whereby of the technique; not to transmit "a way of being," nor indeed enlightenment or gnosis.
6 Neuroscientific findings relating to will and volition have proliferated in recent years. They may raise fundamental questions about the nature of self and will, but in my opinion they have little to do with the Alexander Technique, no more than they do with dancing or playing an instrument. If there are really recognizable activities Alexander termed "inhibition" and "direction," then his writings are timeless, since they speak from direct observation and experiment, not philosophy about "free will" and the like.
7 In spiritual literature one encounters, almost universally, the idea that there is no "doer" of action, or no "doer" but God. Hence Kingsley is implying that Alexandrian inhibition is somehow related to this concept, which Buddha famously summarized: "Events happen, deeds are done, but there is no doer thereof." In my opinion, the Alexander Technique has nothing more to do with this than does reading, writing, or playing a game. There may be "procedures followed, but no follower thereof."

Hello. I really need advice. support. opinions. anything, ill take it.
I (29f) am totally lost.
My significant other 30m and I are going through it. We have been together 5 years and have worked thorough a lot of things together that we probably should have just gone to therapy for but we grew, and I'm so thankful for that and proud tbh. My issue is however, that he has a very addictive personality and it effects his personal growth and ambition in life. He is addicted to nicotine, was as addicted as you can be to smoking weed in high school + a few years after, he had an issue with watching porn for a while in excess, and drinks alcohol though, not excessively.
The alcohol thing is where i need to explain. Its not how much he drinks, its how many consecutive days he drinks, even if its just one or 2 drinks a night. His brain chemistry changes. i'm no scientist but i know it effects his brain. He doesn't get black out drunk by any means. But after 3 days of having 1 or 2/3 drinks after work he is less able to control his emotions, less able to be rational during arguments or discussions. Less compassionate, less present, this list goes on and on yall.
This has been a topic of discussion for years. more than once he's committed to being sober ( although it obviously didn't stick) so he is aware that he'd probably be better off. Us as a couple sure as hell would and he knows that!
We have had had bigger issues in the past with his drinking and he cut back quite a lot. Like previously stated, he usually has 1 or 2 (maybe 3 if I'm thinking about it) beers or drinks or whatever is in the fridge a night. he will do this for three nights then skip two. then three again then skip 3 then 4 nights in a row then skip two...that sort of pattern,
Cutting back isn't going to cut it, with what I've had to deal with and learned about how he functions even with small amounts of alcohol periodically were not going to stop having issues until he just stops altogether.
He grew up with alcohol all around him. its normal in his family to have a beer rain or shine. Drinking is for sure linked to "manliness" in his family. Addiction also runs rampant in his family as well, but drinking is just so normalized none of them would ever think to try the sober route in life. I on the other hand could give a shit less about drinking anymore and hardly drink.
His drinking is honestly effecting his ambitions. More often I find myself feeling like his mom, encouraging him to work on his career, reminding him that if i can find time to do my school work he can find time to do his computer programming certificate thing ( that I honestly don't think he will ever finish)
We are both late bloomers. Except once I figured out what I wanted to do with my life I shot out of the gate like a race horse. And I was chomping at the bit for years trying to figure it out! Reading blogs, buying books, joining groups etc etc. I started going to school. 3 quarters in, Deans list every quarter. I started building a brand. I have all these side projects and I'm so excited for my days off so I can work on those side projects. Him on the other hand.....yeah I just wouldn't describe him as excited about anything in life. Or ambitious.... I'm tearing up writing that but its true
He is such a hard worker when it comes to the jobs he's had. He is such a loving understanding boyfriend ( 60 percent of the time unfortunately, and it pains me to admit that to myself). I love him dearly and he loves me dearly also. He is literally my best friend and I'm his. I am just so sad that 40 percent of the time I have to deal with someone I don't love because of something so stupid as alcohol. And I'm so upset he wont just stop casually drinking even though he can clearly see it effects him and our relationship so much.
Am i wrong to think that one day he's going to grow up and stop drinking and be the perfect man? Should I just accept him for the 60 percent of the time I'm happy, and love him with his flaws the other 40% of the time? Should I end this? did i out grow him? I'm lost. I'm sad. i don't want to lose my best friend.

Salam brothers and sisters,
I'm a Syrian male, early 20s with German citizenship. I'll be using my German passport to enter at Cairo International airport.
As I understand, I only need a Visa on arrival and $25 Cash to pay for it.
I'm coming to visit one of my aunts (and cousins etc.) that lives there, and to meet some more relatives arriving from a different country to visit them too.
But with the current Genocide in Gaza, me traveling alone as an early 20s male, I feel like it's a recipe to be arrested by Mukhabarat and interrogated for like 3 days only to be bailed out by the German embassy and immediately put back on a plane to Germany.
What's the likelihood of that actually happening?
To clarify, I don't have a Syrian passport despite being a citizen and being born there (left at like 9 yrs old, parents renewed once at age 14-15 I think). Last time it was renewed, I was a child, so I don't have any Syrian papers whatsoever.
Also, a few more unrelated questions:
Can I convert Euros to Egyptian Pound at the airport or nearby for a reasonable exchange rate (what exchange rate can I expect roughly? Google says 1 EUR = 51 EGP, but before February it was 1 = 33)?
Can I withdraw Cash at ATMs with a MasterCard? Are ATMs common?
How much money should I bring for a week? I'm staying with relatives, food etc. is arranged, it's mainly getting a Taxi from and to the airport, and small everyday expenses like eating at a Café/Restaurant (none tourist area), buying snacks, perhaps buying 1-2 pairs of normal shoes, Jeans and 2-3 T-Shirts. Is 200-300€ (10-15k EGP) enough?
Where to find a Boycott list (I know that they sell in other names unknown to non locals)?
Regarding prayer times, I assume Adhaan is called loudly for each prayer. But how long after that does the prayer in the Masjid actually start? There's a standardized delay of X minutes, right? Or is it different from Mosque to Mosque, like here in the West?
What's the chance that police/Mukhabarat at the airport demands that I unlock my phone to read through my private stuff? What's the consequence of refusing?
If I'm approached/interrogated/detained by someone who claims to be civilian dressed police in the street, on a bus or in a restaurant/mosque or wherever, how do I know they're truly police and not just a robber or criminal? In Germany nobody gets to tell me what to do if they're not uniformed police, or show ID to prove they're undercover police. Not even military in uniform have any authority over civilians. But I read in a different post here that armed civilian police, with guns openly drawn/worn, searched a bus the OP was on without providing any ID, any announcement or clarification to anyone. Do I just STFU and assume it's legit police every time?
Who do I call if someone is overstepping their boundaries? Police?
If someone attacks me/provokes a fight, and I defend myself and let's say I punch them or whatever, am I screwed?
I'm sorry to overwhelm you with so many questions, but the ADHD/over worrying kicks in hard for me in unknown circumstances.
Thanks so much for anyone who takes the time to answer some of my questions.

Just another fun little story idea I had. I am still working on Humans are the violent ones but I like to bounce around and experiment with ideas to see what I really like. I also suck at writing more casual stories, as they give me severe writer's block as I try to map out how to make a scene feel genuine in my head, but I promise I'll update that soon. If you like this story and want to see more, then like and comment. I'll gladly continue this series as well.
Start of Personal Log
Humans don't like being told what to do. They don't like being commanded, put in their place, or snubbed. It was an inexorable, inalienable trait of humans, at least any noteable humans, to go against any authority that they believed was against their interests.
Humanity would not fit amongst the stars. Few ever did. It was a trait of most successful species to be willful, ambitious, and to desire more. But once they reached the stars the new (and simultaneously very old) pecking order either quashed any spirit such species had or simply eradicated them. Countless tomb worlds and diaspora served as painful reminders of what became of the nails that chose to stick out. The hammer of order would always strike. There could be no compromise, the very soul of the authority that held the Jurisdiction together relied on a show of unmatched power, or at least the illusion of item.
In reality, the Jurisdiction was an old, fat, and lazy beast. It filled its belly on the corpses of empires far and wide, and sated its bloodlust on the shattered dreams of hopeful cubs. It had every right to, for none could challenge it: there were no new frontiers to explore, nor were there any other enemies to conquer. The Milky Way, as humans had so strangely dubbed our cradle galaxy, as well as Andromeda, had long since been warred over and settled for millennia before humanity had arrived, bright-eyed and with familiar yet otherwise foolish dreams of cooperation and prosperity. The Jurisdiction did not cooperate, nor did it ensure prosperity. Oh, it claimed it did, but in reality it simply took. The rest was just the peace that came with not being the direct target of the biggest fish in the pond. The humans didn't like that, but they had no choice.
Slavery was a common tribute. The Jurisdiction had no use for other resources: it simply took. No, it wanted those who could facilitate that unequal exchange, those raised in a world where the only morality was the one set by your lord. The Jurisdiction was held together by expectations, obligations, and dury more than any kind of shared dream, so when you were ordered to take you did so without question. Humanity was new: they had no niche or value that set them apart, but they had a penchant for killing and taking, so the Jurisdiction gave them a taste of how the galaxy worked. They killed and they took. The humans didn't like that, but what choice did they have?
Humans were strange. They learned, but not in the way most species learned. Most species learned to adapt in a passive way, to adhere to the world around them. They flowed like water, moving past and around obstacles and confirming to the boxes they were assigned too. Humans didn't confirm, nor did they adapt: they made their circumstances fit their desires. They would not move around obstacles, but rather smash through them, and they refused to stay in one box for too long. The Jurisdiction merely saw them as a particularly loud nuisance, but those who faced their wrath knew better.
It is said that when a beast seeks to make an example, it shall humble its rival by killing it's cubs. Children were one of those universal constants that brought entire communities together: the Sok’klar saw their hatchlings as gifts, shaped by the fruitful currents of the universe in perfect harmony. The Yarrack saw each and every newborn whelp as an uncut gemstone, ready to be shaped into something magical. Humanity oftentimes referred to their offspring as angels, or spirits of unbridled good sent by the gods themselves. Children were seen by most of the galaxy as gifts.
The Jurisdiction saw them as a lever to inflict suffering. It had become quite effective at enacting psychological punishments on those that stood up and spoke out. You dare to disobey? You believe you can speak out? Your gifts shall be taken from you, and you shall be without joy.
Humans didn't like this, but the Jurisdiction would have their pound of flesh, and humankind would kneel. And they did. But humans were patient creatures: most species who retained that trait of willful spit also lacked patience.
I had long since become desensitized to the Jurisdiction’s actions: it was simply how the universe worked now, as if it were a constant akin to gravity. Cruelty was the unspoken rule of this seemingly unending age, where our lives never appeared to move forward or backwards, only lay dormant. The Jurisdiction had been the unyielding authority that ruled the galaxy for thousands of years, venerable yet feared all the same.
And for the longest time I was just another cog in its wheel. My name is Kalnuracht Sedjuur-Noumar VII, and was the scion of the noble house Sedjuur-Noumar. I was born into what most would describe as veiled apathy, living a life that could be attributed to the privileged class of feared scribes that enacted the will of those above. I was an administrator and nothing more. And now I am doomed to be far less than that in the eyes of my former constituents within the endless administration. I am the only scion, as is tradition, and without an heir I am the last of my house, our name to be scrubbed from the records, worthless, meaningless, and forgotten.
I am merely Kalnuracht, nothing else and nothing more. I have seen from their eyes, the eyes of the downtrodden, and it makes my crimes of association with the Jurisdiction feel all the more damning on my worthless soul. I am worthless to the world, and this is my story.
End Personal Log #1
Start of Neural Lace Narrative Log #1
They came from the black like carrion birds in the night, encircling our convoy as if it were a dying animal ready to be picked clean without remorse. There was no warning, no list of demands sent out as civilized peoples did, nor was there either any requirement for unconditional surrender nor chance to parlay, as was done so under letter of marque: this was an unmistakable call for violence and nothing else. They sought to reduce us to slag and scavenge the rest.
So, as one would expect, the entire bridge of the ship was nearing a panicked state. This was not the actions of those practicing civility, but rather the common behaviors of despoiling barbarians, the kind that tore their way through the dark reaches of the galaxy as if they owned it.
“Wayfinder, what do your probes see?” Shouted the ship’s sovereign. He was an older Kar’Rowmach, an amphibious cephalopod species with a venerable history within the Jurisdiction going back thousands of years. Normally one such as him would be above me if it weren't for the fact that I was under the authority of the Jurisdiction’s seal of office. He didn't like me very much, but most of his kind shared the same sentiment.
“All dark, honorable Sovereign: the sensor arrays are wailing but the feedback we're reviewing is beyond incomprehensible,” the wayfinder replied with a certain restrained temper in his voice. The Sok'klar wayfinder swayed gently, his tentacled limbs grasping different metallo-liquid braille output arrays, the liquid gallium flexing and reshaping unnaturally to allow him to to take in multiple different sources of sensory output at once, with the primary navigation computer plugged into the cybernetics surrounding his opaque, gelatinous head and plugging directly into his tube-shaped brain.
The Sovereign cursed in Loskat and pointed to his bridge crew while I simply sat in the back, near the Sovereign’s symbolic throne. “Prepare countermeasures and spool up the warp drive, we cannot allow the amanuensis to be taken! He carries sensitive information that only he can translate and transcribe!”
As the bridge crew nodded and began fiddling with their own systems, I preened my feathered hide anxiously. I wasn't a fighter: us nobles of the cloth were the educated minority above all else, not those who waged war or partook in hard labor. Special cybernetics in my brain allowed me to translate triple-encoded messages that usually took a ducal signet codekey or above to parse, but even without that I was a skilled mathematician and logician. I had terabytes worth of knowledge stored within the hardware installed in my head, all well protected of course, but if I were to die it would still be a waste. I could only imagine the damage any malcontenders could do with it if they were able to get their filthy hands on me.
Suddenly, the ship rocked, and the gallium overhead display began to form crescendos like I'd never seen before. “Sovereign, decks A-3 through C-12 are venting atmosphere and our coolant systems have been obliterated,” the Wayfinder spoke in an almost serene voice, as if he was completely unconcerned by current events. I knew they were simply incapable of tonal displays, but it was unnerving nonetheless. “Once we jump, we will not be able to risk another until the vacuum of the void can reduce temperatures to acceptable levels within the plasma capacitors.”
“Damn them,” the armored nautiloid hissed, his barbed feelers coiling in frustration, “May the currents take them. What are our options? what can we see? This fleet cannot fall to the void today, not with such vital cargo.” My hackles rose lightly at the Kar’Rowmach referred to me as some object rather than an esteemed amanuensis of the Jurisdiction, but I bit my forked tongue. Now was not the time to squabble with the sovereign over who was what and what titles I deserved, not while he was so desperately attempting to keep what semblance of order within his fleet that he had left.
I could not blame the crew for being panicked either: wars were practically mythologized now, having been long since rendered obsolete with the rise of the Jurisdiction, and that felt like an eternity ago. Now, either being levied into or joining a ducal naval force was simply another career, more akin to serving as an officer of the law rather than a fully fledged soldier. Minimal training was required, most of it being the technicals of one's duty rather than any kind of combat conditioning, so expecting a fleet to actually be prepared for a combat scenario in a universe where peace was the norm was laughable.
“We are practically blind, Sovereign,” stated the Sok'klar Wayfinder, “our probes are offline, and shipboard graviton displacement sensory arrays have been rendered unreliable at best.”
“What about the particle emission array? Has there been a spike in radioactivity where we were hit?”
The Wayfinder seemed to think for a second, his gelatinous form flexing and morphing a bit before answering. “Affirmative, a jump from negligible to forty billion becquerels along decks A through E-5 on our starboard side.”
“Torpedoes…” the Sovereign hissed, stroking his barbed feelers, “Human Torpedoes. Only those primitives would rely on crude nuclear warheads.” He then turned to his militant leaders on the ship. “Noddos, Rel’ads: organize your phalanxes and prepare to repel boarders. We are bound to be assailed by those rancorous primates, and I want their skulls piled at my feet if they dare set foot on our ship.”
“Your wish is our command, Sovereign,” the two militant commanders spoke as one. Noddos, a large bipedal with multiple sets of curved spines running down his back, a pair of graceful horns sprouting from his head, and multiple rows of sharp teeth in his snout, bowed first, followed by Rel’ads, a marsupial with long saberteeth and thick fur. They both must have been fierce warriors in their own right to each lead a phalanx. They wore thick, semi-powered armor and held dueling polearms alongside their usual plasma casters, and seemed completely unfazed by the situation we were in. As they stomped out of the brightly lit bridge, I let out a quiet squawk of discontentment. “Sovereign, why haven't we jumped again? We are wasting precious time.”
“I am working on it, you spineless beaurocrat!” He warbled back, his feelers tensing in anger, “besides, it's not as if you're the one who will be spilling blood today, amanuensis, so flatten your wretched beak or I shall weld it shut with a plasma torch.
I was about to reply with something indignant, but the ship rocked again, this time causing the lights to flicker and the air to become… thick. The skin under my feathers began to blister, and I became lightheaded and confused. “Seal the damnable vents, initiate radiation scrubbers, and activate secondary life support!” Shouted the Sovereign, “Their nuclear weapons are rendering the ship inhospitable!”
I coughed up magenta blood accidentally, and I could feel more seeping from under my eyes. Some of the crew was in a similar position, but others were more resistant to radiation than I. The Sok'klar seemed completely at ease as he ran his tentacles across his morphic braille arrays before calmly announcing the ship’s status. “I've regained some control over our probes: ten, twelve, and seventeen are active and fully functional, the rest are either still malfunctioning or permanently inoperable. A rapid rise in localized radiation is also interfering with the detection of graviton displacement; we can't sense photon redirection, thus readings will remain inconclusive.
“Wayfinder, damn you, get me some kind of out here! We're easy prey until we can respond in kind!”
“Negative, something has gone awry with our processing hub, I am attempting to troubleshoot-”
And with that, the Wayfinder’s bulbous head exploded in a cascade of opaque lavender blood, covering the front half of the deck crew like a morbid art piece. Some of the crew screamed and shouted in terror before removing their cranial adaptors and choosing to interact with their displays manually. Others died just as quickly, unable to unplug in time as their brain stems fried or their blood boiled. It was a horrible way to go, having your insides neutralized by your own cybernetics, so I was glad I wasn't connected to the system.
“Cybernetic warfare! All systems are to be considered compromised, switch to manual settings or you'll be killed!”
The lights in the bridge flickered again, and the displays went haywire. The bridge crew, which obviously weren't acquainted with working without being hard-linked into the mainframe, moved at a much slower pace.
“Launch missile pods A through F and set to self-target after five hundred kilometers, then rely on their ballistic coordinates to begin firing broadsides! If we can't see the humans due to their meddling, we'll just have to feel them.” Shouted the Sovereign, “and got me a detailed report on the ship’s diagnostics readings. I need to know if this flagship is still capable of escaping or if we'll have to scuttle it and retreat on another.”
“Acknowledged, Sovereign, launching now,” affirmed another deck officer as he swiped across his own gallium output array. I could hear the dull thunk, thunk, thunk of missiles pushing out of their pods before racing off to their intended targets, then the mechanical whirring as the pods rotated to be reloaded by slaves in the lower decks. I was regaining my bearings as the many horrible sensations of being overwhelmed by radiation poisoning were beginning to subside, but I still felt as if I had been microwaved. The air was stale, the crew was horribly sick as well, and even the sovereign himself seemed to be on his last leg. I was beginning to believe that I might die here.
“Sovereign, a message from the lower decks,” shouted a communications officer, his chitin scraping against itself as he turned quickly, “they're requesting reinforcements, something about being overrun.”
“Impossible,” the Sovereign hissed out in a vain attempt to exude confidence, “We must outnumber the humans, they always go for bigger targets out of arrogance.”
“I've received reports that it's not just humans: the primates seem to make up only a third or so of the assailing force, along with some Phaeldaer and Vrex.”
The commander slammed his clawed hands down on his own output array in a fit of rage, obviously overwhelmed by the circumstances, “Then this wasn't just a typical assault, but something more sinister!” The nautiloid warbled, blood seeping from his shell as the full effects of the radiation took hold, “Get Rel’ads on the line, have him divert all spare lances to the lower decks or else we'll lose the only offensive capabilities we can use.”
“Rel'ads has gone dark, Sovereign, his vitals are critical.”
“Then either get me Rel'ads tail-leader or get me Noddos!” He screamed in rage, “don't give me this nonsense! If we don't pick it up we're all going to die, is that what you want?”
“No, Sovereign, I'm simply overwhelmed-”
“We're all overwhelmed! By the tides, I'm dying of radiation poisoning you nincompoop! Get me something I can work with!”
The officer didn't even acknowledge the Sovereign after that, simply turning back to his display. Eventually, the Sovereign was able to get Noddos on the line.
“Sovereign, two thirds of my phalanxes have been decimated by combat with the primitives and the radiation, the rest are in shambles. We must retreat and fortify elsewhere!”
“Then the ship is compromised! Rel'ads is unresponsive and the lower decks are swarming with intruders. We must evacuate the amanuensis to another ship.”
Just as the Sovereign spoke, I heard several gentle thumps rattle against the bridge’s door, and it made me uneasy. Some of the bridge crew seemed to feel the same, as they looked incredibly nervous and some even drew their sidearms. Just as the sovereign turned to give further orders, the door blew inward with a deafening explosion, followed by shouting and gunfire. Several of the bridge officers were dispatched quickly, brain matter and blood splattering against the delicate electronics. Others were shot in the legs, the torso, or in any other exotic yet non-vital body parts. The humans poured in, brandishing primitive ballistic firearms and jury-rigged energy weapons while wearing scavenged, legion-grade powered armor.
The Sovereign was the next to go, but he wasn't afforded an honorable death. He was shot along the arm with a particularly potent plasma caster, burning off his clawed hand and cauterizing the wound, the acrid smell of roasting chitin filling the already hot and cramped bridge. He fell back against his output array, the gallium reaching new highs and lows as more diagnostics and casualty reports were delivered, and he clutched his stump angrily. “I'll burn every last one of you in the foundries! I'll tie you to stakes, cover you in wax and set you alight! Your screams will be broadcasted all over the galaxy!”
One human warrior stomped up and slammed the butt of his rifle into the sovereign’s face, shattering his facial plates and causing blue blood to splatter across his section of the bridge. “Shut the fuck up, you mutant lobster,” the human said before dragging him by both antennae towards the center of the bridge and receiving a stained breeching axe from one of his comrades. “Emmanuel, start recording. We need proof.”
The other human nodded and pressed a button on his armor before lifting up his gun again. The rest of the humans fanned out, holding everyone else at gunpoint. I tried to get up and sneak out, but a human grabbed me by my neck and nearly wrung it out as he forced me to my knees and pointed a sidearm to my skull. “Get down, you piece of shit, before I blow your brains out too.”
“Damnable primate,” I hissed, but he bashed me in my skull with the base of his sidearm’s grip and sent me sprawling, making my already pounding headache worse. Another human shouted at him in a language I didn't recognize, but he sounded furious. The first brought me back up to my knees again, and I complies with a hiss and a groan, blood still leaking from my eyes and mouth and my world was spinning.
The Sovereign struggled, but he was weak from the radiation poisoning and he couldn't exactly resist on account of his lost arm. The human with the breaching ax kicked the Sovereign down and forced him to kneel before lifting up the breeching ax and splitting his chitinous head down the middle with one powerful swing, sending more blood and brains across the floor. “Execution confirmed, take his antennae just in case and we've got ourselves a bounty. Now all we need is that ugly cat’s teeth and the fat hedgehog-thing’s grimy spines and we'll be in business. Although, they do have skulls… we might as well just take their heads.”
The real horror of the situation dawned on me at that moment: they were going to kill us all, or maybe worse. They mentioned a bounty for the commanders, and multiple of the higher ranking ship officers were already dead, their brains splattered against the walls or their bodies torn apart by gunfire. I wasn't dead yet, but that didn't mean much since I wasn't an immediate threat.
“Alright, round them up and bring all the grunts to the hanger bay, then kill the rest,” the leader of the humans said in such a lackadaisical manner that his complete disregard for life almost made me sick… almost. I had seen worse from the Jurisdiction before, but usually that was from me delivering some kind of ordered judgment on a world that had sinned against order. I might have simply been the messenger, but I had seen many of the outcomes. “And make sure to collect whatever proof of bounties you can, we'll need to deliver them to the office to get cashed out. Don't let this be a repeat of last time where Juarez fucking forgot to take a few heads and it ended up cutting our profits in half, the fucking retard.”
Some of the humans chuckled at that as they dragged more of the senior officers away, out of the room and into the hall,where I heard gunshots. The rest of the bridge crew froze in place, different fear instincts kicking in. The remaining Sok'klar corralled together into what seemed to be a singular, semi-congealed mass as if to try and trick the humans into believing that they were much bigger and much more threatening than they actually were. The one Thei’chi on the bridge, an ensign who had clearly thought this would be a simple mission, bore her curved fangs at the humans and growled as they approached, her hackles completely vertical and her eyes dilated. They quickly muzzled and bound her before beating her over the head with a gun stock, sending her sprawling onto the ground. Many others simply cooperated, eyes wide and yet simultaneously empty, as if they couldn't quite process that the ship had been taken and the commanding officers were being executed as the rest were escorted to the hangar.
“Get the damn messenger down to the hanger as well, we need whatever data's in his ugly lizard head, then we can decide on what to do with him.”
I spat at him in spite, as if to try and seem brave, but it was clearly an empty gesture. “You won't get anything, primate! You couldn't possibly crack the encryption!”
The human holding me seemed to wind up for another swing, but the commanding officer simply held up his hand to stop my tormentor before strolling over to me. He knelt down and removed his helmet, revealing a beige-colored face covered in scars, wiry black hair cut down to the scalp, and multiple tattoos. “You're really fucking mouthy for a hostage,” he said before punching me across my beak faster than I could register. I heard a sharp crack as his fist connected, and my head spun again as the metallic taste of blood pooled into my mouth. “I'd advise you to shut up, but I'm sure you won't listen: you aristocratic types are so full of yourselves. Maybe I should have you flogged in the public square until your vocal chords give out once we rip those cybernetics from your head, huh? How's that sound?”
“It won't matter… it won't change anything… the Jurisdiction will hunt you down.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it will happen for some time: they really suck at doing anything that requires effort, even when they're mad enough. They just keep sending their rabid lapdogs to try and smoke us out, and they always end up full of holes,” the human officer said with a smirk, his yellowish-white teeth and green eyes sending shivers down my spine as he drew his knife. “They're just horrible at their job, you know? You've all gotten so lazy and incompetent after being able to just take what you want without resistance, and now that you've met people who are angry and crazy enough to fight back you act as if we're committing some grave injustice,” he placed the knife against my throat, the flat just underneath my now bent beak, “No, we just took a few pages out of your book, ‘cept we've got standards. No kids, for one…” he seemed to look off into the distance as his sneer deepened, “but it's more than that, we don't attack the defenseless in general and we still win against you all in fair fights.”
I went to say something else snarky, but he quickly grabbed my thin tongue with his fingers and yanked it out, blood from my mouth pulling to the floor as he held the blade of his knife against it. “No no, none of that. Say one more thing and I'll cut that rancid little tongue of yours out of your mouth and feed it to you,” he hissed at me, pressing the blade down just hard enough to draw blood. “Do you know what it's like to see a planet turn into a tomb?" he asked me, gritting his teeth, “Do you know what it's like to see everything you've ever known crumble to ash and glass, all the life and the green stripped away leaving nothing but bones? I do. I've seen it happen to countless worlds, and my grandfather always told me stories of how you bastards did it to Earth. He still prays in its direction five times a day, to Mecca, but he knows the Kaaba is gone now, or maybe it's still there, buried in the bones of those who sought refuge there.”
I didn't care for the human’s nonsensical beliefs, but I did care to correct him. “I've seen it before, and I'll see it again. And so will you, it's inevitable. The Jurisdiction will always have its judgment fulfilled, there is no alternative.”
“One day, I hope we can rectify that,” he said, then he sheathed his knife and slammed my head against the metal floor with enough force to nearly knock me out. As I lost consciousness, I could hear him speak. “Take him to the Chop Doc, and make sure the cybernetics don't get damaged: they're supposedly more valuable than any bounty on this ship.”
Warning: Severe radiation poisoning detected. Flush system immediately.
Warning: Neural Lace removal detected, chance of neurological damage high. Proceeded with caution.

I'm a 42 year old male, I met my wife when I was 18, she was 23 and we began 'dating' when I was 21, working a job I hated in the same place she worked (casino workers, if you know, you know). We hooked up at a Xmas party and started a very awkward relationship. I say awkward because we had some weird trouble having sex for the first like 6 months... it's odd when I think back on it, should have been a huge red flag but she was draped in reg flags the entire time and it didn't seem matter to me. Aside from that, when we finally did have sex she got pregnant... she was not at all ready, neither was I really, but are you ever? At any rate, I didn't have too much of say in it, she decided on an abortion and I supported her. We stayed together after that horribly shitty experience, our relationship was never really all that good, lots of petty fighting/arguing and really the only reason it continued was because we worked opposite shifts and barely saw each other which made it easier to sorta get along.
Fast forward a couple years, we decide to buy a house because financially it made sense (this is almost 20 years ago so it was still affordable at that time), she made quite a bit of money, mostly in tips (so not on paper), but she probably made 2-3 times as much as I did so she never really struggled financially (in her life I don't think) while I came out of poverty and lived paycheck to paycheck up until a few years ago (the pandemic was surprisingly good for my career). This was never really an issue for me, I've lived in debt my whole life and I've always had the optimism that I would eventually work my way out of it, it's really the only bit of confidence I have in myself, my ability to learn and become relatively good at almost anything. This was always a point of contention, my wife hated that I had debt so when we bought the house together we were asked if we wanted a joint bank account as most couples combine their finances with cohabitation, my wife scoffed and adamantly told the banker there was no way she's mixing her finances with mine, it was relatively embarrassing at the time but I was also just 25 (she was 30) so I went along with whatever, it was going to be slightly cheaper for me to pay a mortgage than rent at the time so I was in and she'd cover bills. Things were never that great when living together, things must have been good enough for me to stay but I only look back with anger now so it's hard to see anything good but I'm sure there must have been some.
Fast forward another couple years and I feel extremely pressured (by her and her family mostly, they're old fashioned country type folks) to ask her to marry me... so I do. We stay engaged for another few years, I have no desire to waste a bunch on money on a wedding but she's the one with money so we have the big wedding she wanted. I'll admit it was a pretty great party, I don't remember anything good involving her on our wedding day but I have lots of good memories with family and friends. Afterwards we went on a 'romantic' honeymoon at an all-inclusive tropical resort and this is where I'll get into a bit of what I've dealt with for years... our resort was gorgeous, room was nice, just a room but nice... first thing my wife did was complain, about everything, the bed, the fridge, the lights, the balcony... nothing was good enough for her, this would become a common theme for the next decade plus. We also did not have sex on our honeymoon, she was far too busy complaining and being angry for us to ever get in the 'mood', this would be more foreshadowing of what's to come.
Now, this might seem like I'm building up to her becoming really bad after getting married but that's not really the case... she was just as bad before, it didn't really get worse, it just became more noticeable... or maybe I just tolerated things more in the beginning. The truth is when I look back, there were so many signs, she casually put me down and basically treated me like a child from day one, something I just accepted because looking back, I was a fucking child when we got together... she was not really, five years my senior, and she very much took advantage of that dynamic. Over the years she slowly went about convincing me that the things I wanted were silly/ridiculous and that I should want what she wanted (the nice lawn, the house, kids, etc., etc.) because everyone should. I never wanted these things.
I won't get into details here because I could write a novel on the insane shit I've dealt with over the last 20 years that could prove this, but I did do a lot of research in the last few years and have come to the conclusion that she could have BPD with narcissistic traits... I'm obviously not a doctor so it's definitely not a diagnosis or anything but she ticks almost every box from the many many things I've read on the subject, so if you have a moment and you don't know what BPD is I suggest googling it. It's pretty terrible but it might give you a better idea of my life.
At any rate, I dug myself deeper and deeper, thinking that every next move would finally make her happy and bring me some kind of peace, so we had a child about a year after we were married. This is where it gets really tricky... I sincerely regret having a child with this woman, especially because she is not at all "cut out to be a mother" (her words, not mine) but her mother had been sick on and off with cancer for a few years and her older sister couldn't have children so she felt obligated to give her mom a grandchild, bad reasons all around to have a child. That being said, I love my son more than anything in the world. As much as I wish we did not bring him into this horrible world, he's still the very best thing to happen to me and I will take care of him and love him for the rest of my life no matter what.
I should mention, since I've eluded to it, I've always had self-esteem issues, goes all the way back to having acne problems in high school but my wife has methodically picked away at my confidence and self-esteem over the years, cutting me down to this very day... to the point that I feel very much worthless. I know that I'm not, I know I deserve better but another fun thing about my wife is her desperate need for sympathy... So, not only does she make me feel horrible about myself, she also manages to make me feel horrible FOR her... she's overweight, and I'm sure has low self-esteem herself but she has decided to take it out on others rather than internalize and try to make things better for herself. She would rather blame others for any of her short comings, I guess it's easier to convince yourself you can't do anything about it when it's someone else fault.
I apologize, because I feel like I'm a bit all over the place but I guess I'm just trying to set the scene for where I'm at now and give just a small glimpse of the hell I've been living in and how I got here...
The first few years of my sons life were pretty great (comparatively at least), honestly it was probably the best we've ever gotten along, probably because most of my focus (and hers) was on our son. Unfortunately, her mother passed away just after my son's first birthday, this was obviously devastating for her, not unexpected but still devastating. We're lucky in Canada because she had a full year maternity leave and was able to spend time with her mom. She took it very hard, and decided to stay off work for an additional 4-6 months (can't remember exactly). This was all fine and understandable, I supported her through all of it, financially and emotionally. Once she went back to work, this is when things took a real nose dive... she has always been a very entitled person but upon going back to work (part time I should mention) she decided everything was horrible for her so she was going to make it horrible for everyone around her. This went on for around 4-5 years (again, the time frames get fuzzy because it's been so long), it was hell. I really just plowed through for our son, I made him my main focus and I took care of everything. Without going into it too much, I sort of shifted gears with my job and focused on finding something that worked better for raising a kid, I got onto a full time day shift (unheard in the casino world) and we worked opposite shifts. It was pretty good for child care (that we couldn't afford) as one of us was always home. This made her more contentious... again, going back to the entitled thing, she felt it wasn't 'fair' for me to work a good shift, she should be the one doing that. I eventually worked my way out of casinos and into a work from home job (before COVID) and it was great, she could work whatever shift she had to and I would always be around for our son.
Fast forward again, my son's in school, she's still super angry at life and making things hellish but I do my best to make it good for our son. It's difficult to keep a smile on with him while putting up with temper tantrums and fits from my wife... yes, we had a toddler and she was the one who threw fits. For an example, I can recall one specific Xmas where my son and I were playing video games which is his biggest interest, something she absolutely hates, and she made a few comments about how we should be doing family things together for Xmas (it was Xmas eve), so my son and I got off the computer and played a board game in the living room... nice and wholesome fun I thought. My wife throws a fit, full on screaming and slamming things around, I don't even remember what for exactly, it happens so often I can't keep track anymore. Her temper tantrum ends with her storming off and slamming the door to her room. I'll never forget looking at my son right after, him tearing up a bit and asking me "what is wrong mom?" and I just said "I'm really sorry buddy, I don't know" and we hugged... I cried a lot about that that night, one of many times I would have to apologize for her and the way she acts around him. This is just one small example and a terrible Xmas memory that I'll always have, hopefully my son won't. I think the worst part of these 'tantrums' is that she can almost always justify them, only to herself really but usually by blaming me or my son for "making her so upset" or worse, blaming some inanimate object for "not working how it should".
Fast forward to now(ish)... I've basically lived in my basement for the last 5 years, my office and bedroom are there, I stay down there to avoid my wife as much as possible but it feels like a prison cell now. I've retreated from life in general over the years too, I've always been a pretty anti-social introvert, I prefer quiet one on one conversations rather than group settings. Most of my 'friends' over the last 10-15 years revolved around my job (casinos take over your life people, for real) and my wife, I slowly lost any friends that had no connection to her. This was partially due to me retreating and the fact that my wife would insert herself into any friendship that was just mine to the point that I sort shut those people out to avoid them having to deal with her. Sadly, I don't have friends anymore (didn't have many to begin with but still), my son is essentially my only friend and because I work from home by myself I rarely talk to any other adults. My wife and I talk only when necessary... I cannot make eye contact with her anymore. This is probably needless to say but we haven't had sex in over 6 and a half years and I don't cheat, I don't have the confidence, so I've just accepted that I'm celibate now.
One other area of contention that I feel I should explain since I've mentioned it already, through the pandemic there was a serious power shift, financially speaking. She essentially lost her job and is now in a lower paying part time job (more realistic pay compared to her previous job), whereas I made a couple job changes that bumped me up well ahead of her. For comparison, the salaries essentially flipped, almost exactly... to where I make 2-3 times what she makes. This has become an area of contention because this was something she was able to lord over me for the majority of our relationship, she spent money freely while I paid the mortgage and barely ate for the first 5 years we lived in the house but now, for the first time in her life she has to pay attention to her finances and watch her spending... she does not like this so it's just another thing to constantly complain about and make passive aggressive comments about the things that 'dad' can afford to do/buy but doesn't (mainly because I'm paying the mortgage and all the bills now while finally paying down some debt).
Oh, I should probably also mention that it's a regular thing for her to insult me and put me down in front of our son and on flip side of that she also uses him to garner sympathy from me ("shouldn't daddy feel bad mommy has to go to work?") it's very frustrating because I just want to protect my kid but I guess she knows that.
Again, I'll apologize for how disjointed this all is... the more I type, the more I think about shit to type... like I mentioned, I could write a novel on this, mostly because I have no real outlet, just sit in my basement talking to myself about it all... or I guess stewing in it.
So, I guess I should try to finish off with what exactly the advice is that I'm seeking... I essentially hate my wife, the word I use often is 'despise' and over the years we've had brief conversations where I've told her that "I'm done and I'm just here for the kid" and unfortunately she took this as push to work on our marriage harder and 'fix' things, far too little, too late. She makes me feel like the worse person in the world and yet I just can't bring myself to say to her face that I want a divorce... I feel sorry for her, fuck so much so that I bought a house with her, married her, and had a fucking kid with her... I'm sure that's not the case, I must have loved her at one point but I just can't see it anymore. I don't know why I can't say it to her, why I can't just end this... I'm so worried about how she'll react, what she'll do to me, to my kid... how she'll try and turn him against me. I'm just paralyzed with the fear of what could/will happen if I tell her we're getting a divorce.
I've made plans over the last few years to move out, rent an apartment for me and my kid and just continue to pay her bills until we can sell the house and split the profit. I can't afford to do this, it would cause me to go back into debt but I do not care, it would be worth it to get away from her. I have set deadline after deadline... "I'll do it after Xmas" or "after her birthday" or "before my birthday" and these days come and go and I just can't do it... I don't know what the hell is wrong with me, it's like I just don't want to hurt her, even though I'm hurting her by not ending things and she definitely doesn't give a shit about hurting me... I just don't want to face her and deal with it and how she will make the aftermath hell.. and I worry so much about my son, it would have been so much better for him if I would have divorced her years ago, he's fucking 10 now... another fear is having to explain it to him but we're setting a horrible example. One of my wife's favourite ways to use our son against me, is planting it in his head that "family is all that matters", focusing specifically on our little family, and how we have to "stick together no matter what, that's what family does". It's such an underhanded way to prep him for hating me because I'm "breaking up our family".
I would appreciate any advice on how the hell I can get over my paralyzing fear and just end this marriage or maybe you wanna come over and end it for me? I'm at a point where I'd take that... as I mentioned I've not shared most of this with anyone... so feedback would be a really new thing for me.
Oh, and please feel free to call me chicken shit, and tell me I just need to grow a pair and get this done... it's the same thing I've been saying to myself for years, not helpful but I understand the sentiment.
Shit... I'm sorry, this turned into a novel. Thank you.

 * * * * * * * 

This is tagged as a Spoiler, but only if you haven’t watched Season 3 Part 1 yet-
So I have seen a lot of conversation about whether or not Penelope and Colin’s relationship has felt rushed so far. Personally, I feel like the relationship this season does feel a bit awkwardly paced and I’m going to explain my reasonings.
A big argument used for why their relationship isn’t rushed is that it’s been in development for 2 seasons. I’m sorry, you mean Penelope’s unrequited love for Colin?? That’s not really development, I mean Penelope’s relationship to Colin in the beginning of season 3 is the same as it is in the beginning of season 1… unrequited, nothing has developed or changed on that end other than her overhearing his hurtful words about her. So I don’t really think their relationship being stalled at that stage for 2 seasons means that it can’t be rushed once it is being developed. In fact I rather feel it’s the opposite because when you sort of build up that anticipation around certain characters over multiple seasons, you better be able to make that payout satisfying. (Think of like HIMYM, lot of build up for a horrible last 6 episodes😂)
And those arguing- actually it just went over y’all’s head, Colin has had feelings for Penelope all along, he just didn’t realize…yeah, seemed like it when he proposed to that other girl, or told his bros he would never court her💀like yes, I get it- He sought her out, and wrote to her, and enjoyed hanging out with her, but the boy was oblivious, and I really needed more from him this season to make up for that fact.
Another thing that bugs me-
Colin has gotten a lot of credit in the show this season for helping Penelope on the Marriage Mart…like I need the writers to be so for real with me, what has Colin actually done to help Penelope draw in a suitor besides himself??💀because from my perspective, he’s done quite the opposite….

• He criticized her behind her back to eligible bachelors and told them he would never think courting her even though she was his friend.
• His plan to “train” her by himself in his house (that she was hesitant about) caused her to be caught in scandal that the whole ton found out about
• He literally destroyed her chance with her one other potential prospect before even knowing if she actually wanted to be with him over the other guy

So really Penelope should be at least a little pissed at Colin. For me, this would add the tension that I feel this story is missing. Something maybe like…

• Colin interrupts Penelope and Lord Debling, and Lord Debling finds out about their potential love from Cressida
• Penelope gets rejected by Lord Debling because of her potential love for Colin and she leaves the ball super upset
• Colin chases after her and ends up confessing even though she is clearly upset at him
• Penelope is all like “How dare you?! I have loved you for years, and have waited for the day that you would see me as more than just your friend, but the minute I finally resign myself to never being anything more to you, to find a lifelong companion in someone else, you ruin my chance…and for what?? I cannot be some passing fade for you like those women in your journal, like Marina…my heart could not handle it! Thank you for your help, but no thank you. I will find a husband by the end of this season and it won’t be because Colin Bridgerton took pity on me…”
• So we have a double confession, and Colin knows that Penelope has feelings for him, but he has to prove to her how series he actually is. This adds tension, he has to pine and grovel.
• And he is doing some real like public declaration of love type of stuff to try and win her over and show her how much he cares and how sorry he is for the stuff he did/said before.
• This kind of works in her favor because she actually managed to pull in a couple of new prospects because of a Bridgerton now being after her. Maybe she even writes about it as Lady Whistledown to help boost her prospects.
• Then obviously it reaches a point where she realizes he’s completely serious and devoted to her, and she doesn’t want to give him up either, and she accepts his proposal.

I think something like this would have been a lot more satisfying than him being kind of oblivious until episode 3 where he realizes he likes her and proposes to her one episode later, and her immediately accepting despite being mad at him 2 minutes earlier.
Of course another big argument people make is- “well the people complaining haven’t read the books because this is exactly how it happens” and to that I say- My criticism isn’t about whether it’s accurate to the books or not, it’s about whether the story is satisfying. So say it is exactly like the books, then I guess I’m criticizing the book too😂
Anyways, please feel free to comment your agreement or disagreement, I would love to hear other’s opinions on this topic!

Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road
With the coming of morning Rene found the earth enwreathed in a grey and sinuous fog that was so thick he felt like he was standing on the shores of an ocean of sky. Only the lapping edges of the wide pond he had located was visible beneath rolling tails of mist. He couldn’t even tell where the heavens ended and the water began—they had all joined together at the waist in one vague mass. It all had filthy, sooty smell to it too, like the inside of a baker’s oven. As through a clouded window pane he saw a red and malevolent haze glowing on faraway slopes to the southeast. Zildiz noted his bewilderment and taunted him:
“Don’t you recognized your own handiwork when you see it? An entire biome went up in smoke because of the Engine’s rampage. Not that I mind—all this is Leaper territory after all.”
“Cry me a river,” Rene scowled, dipping his boots into pond and wading into it. It was only knee height at the deepest point. What’s more, he could see the blurred outlines of small darting shapes below the surface that he hoped were fish.
He made Zildiz sit with her back against a sapling and bound her to it with the spool of webbing he’d collected.
“Don’t get any ideas,” he told her. He slipped off his boots and raggedy socks, rolling up the jumpsuit around his calves and getting back into the water.
At first he tried to get at the fishes with his bare hands. It would be just as easy as catching the milky cave species they raise in the aquaculture ponds back in Ulysses, he thought. All one had to do was slip one’s hand in with glacial patience so as not to disturb them, dipping the palm right under their bellies. Rene had gotten so good at it as a boy that he could even tickle them right in the gills and under the chin. But he soon discovered that the fish on the surface world were nothing like their subterranean cousins. For one thing, they weren’t blind, or stupid. The little rascals fled when he floundered after them, feet slipping on the mossy stones that covered the pond bed. Zildiz looked on with interest as the single worst attempt at hunting she had ever had the misfortune to witness began. This Rene-creature was as clumsy as it was slow-witted, splashing around in fruitless pursuit of its feeble prey. How had these animals ever managed to conquer the stars? Zildiz watched as Rene stubbed his toes on a sharp rock and howled, falling arse-backwards and losing his visor in the process. He then painstakingly dredged the pond bottom for it, turning it up some time later all covered in water lilies and mud. Rene angrily slung his backpack back on and cleared the gunk out of his mask before fitting it back on his face, only to begin yelling as a river crab he’d left inside tried to crawl up his nose. He tore the mask off again and doused it in the pond, finally ridding himself of the curious crustacean.
“Phew!” he sighed with relief.
“Toss it in again,” Zildiz suggested gaily, “At least that way you might catch another.”
“Shut up,” Rene glowered, face going purple with rage. He grabbed the biggest stick of driftwood he could find and began beating the surface of the water as if it owed him money.
Zildiz hid a smile at that. She was famished and events had definitely taken a turn for the worse, but at least someone else was suffering more than she was.
And while this halfwit is preoccupied, Zildiz schemed, I’ll go ahead and signal the god for help. She activated the magnetosynaptic organ behind her inner ear and tried all the usual frequencies.
Nothing but static. Either her organ had been knocked out of commission with the loss of her exomorph’s functions, or the heavy smog caused by the wildfire was getting in the way of reception.
But more than this, a greater part of the Vitalus would be preoccupied with containing the damage to its work. As a shared consciousness It had unimaginable processing power, yet It tended to deal with the world in a holistic fashion, neglecting the individual elements. This did not mean that the god could not be effectively omniscient—It merely had a wholly different perspective and hierarchy of priorities than did Its mortal servants.
For problems on the micro scale, it did however deploy Hollowores or other Inkarnids. Zildiz wasn’t vain enough to think it would send such an avatar of creation and destruction just to retrieve one lone Gallivant. No help would be forthcoming for a while. No matter; she was certain that she could outsmart the Fleet-man soon enough.
Then something happened which drastically altered her perception of him and his kind. Rene grabbed another stick and banged the two pieces together, frowning with concentration. Without a word he returned to the survival kit and combined them with the spool of webbing, twisting them together into the silk and rotating them to create something that was greater than the sum of its parts.
Grinning evilly, the Fleet man took the two sticks and the webbing strung between them and gently lowered them into the pond. He then waited, tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as a fish approached him. When it refused to come any closer, he took one of the white cubes and crumbled it into pieces, which he sprinkled liberally into the water right above his new tool. Eventually the fish took the bait and swam in for a nibble. In a flash Rene pulled up the net and held up a wriggling, pinknosed carp with an ecstatic cry of victory. Chuckling at his own cleverness, Rene hauled his catch to the bank and dashed its brains out on the rocks. He then repeated the process until he caught three more carp with the exact same method. He gutted and descaled the carp with his clasp knife in a trice.
Zildiz was seeing the boundless cunning of these creatures firsthand. It bothered her more than she cared to admit. Granted, if her exomorph was up and running she could’ve killed him in a heartbeat, humming sword or not. But the rate at which he had adapted to his surroundings was concerning.
For comparison, say a Gallivant wished to specialize in the catching of fish. It would have had to ask the Vitalus to edit its gilt helix so that its exomorph could accept the grafting of an appendage designed solely to catch fish. This was assuming the Vitalus had calculated that the addition of this new capability would not lead to the eventual collapse of the riverine ecosystem in the next ten or twenty generations, or that the Gallivant in question could be entrusted with such a responsibility, assuming that its lineage’s previous contributions to the Great Game rendered it worthy of the sudden advantage.
Meanwhile, Rene had developed the net tool in less than the span of an hour, with absolutely zero regard for the consequences of his actions. Zildiz could only imagine what an entire nation of Renes could do if they were given time to multiply beyond Arachnea’s carrying capacity. Clearly this Fleet was a threat not to be taken lightly.
Rene finished cleaning the fish and skewered them on sharp sticks. He then found some pebbles and started banging them together to produce sparks above a pile of bark scrapings and twigs, careful placing one of the brown lumps from the kit inside. It was just as successful as his first attempts at fishing; he smacked the rocks together until he bruised his fingers, then hurled them cursing into the fog.
“Sonofa…” he swore, squatting next to Zildiz and looking at the raw fish dejectedly.
“What, you can manage all that but can’t get a fire going?” she asked, nodding at the blaze in the distance. Rene made no reply, too busy sucking on his thumb. Suddenly he unsheathed the sword and Zildiz nearly panicked, thinking that she had finally annoyed him to the point of violence. Instead, Rene picked up a chunk of quartz crystal off the ground and cut it in half, producing a shower of sparks as the edge met the mineral. Rene piled the fuel again and repeated the trick with the sword and the stone until the tinder caught and tiny streamers of smoke wafted up. Cupping his hands around the precious heart of flame, Rene blew on it lovingly and smiled as it grew into a merry, crackling cookfire.
Making sure to give Zildiz a smug look, Rene sat cross-legged next to it and began to barbeque his meal. Zildiz had built fires herself during the cold monsoon seasons as a special allowance granted by the Vitalus for extreme weather fluctuations, but those had been for warmth, not to burn food with.
The smell of the browning fish skin flooded Rene’s mouth with spit. He saw Zildiz licking her chops unconsciously, said:
“Don’t worry. You’ll get yours.”
Sure enough he held out first batch of carp for her to eat, blowing on it to cool it. Zildiz even forgot her hostility for a moment as she seized the fish with her jaws.
“I can feed myself, you know,” she told him between crunchy mouthfuls of bone and white flesh. It was delicious! An explosion of flavors that was at once both salty and slightly burnt, the meat firm yet succulent. Swallowing greedily, she pulled the fish off its stick and ate it whole, the fish’s head crackling under her molars. Rene watched her choke the thing down with a mix of amazement and alarm, then replied:
“I would consider giving you an arm free to eat with, but you’re a walking arsenal, lady. Is it good, though? My cooking?”
“Passable,” Zildiz lied with a shrug of her shoulders. Her affected disdain did not stop her from giving the rest of the carp a longing look. Rene knew she was hungry and tore the next fish in half, gorging himself and giving Zildiz the rest. Very soon all that was left of their breakfast was a pile of bones and scales that Rene kicked back into the pond. He sat back and propped his bare feet next to the fire to dry his toes.
“Uuurrpp!” Zildiz belched appreciatively.
“Bless you,” Rene commented, and settled down for a nap. He could only rest his eyes for a moment, as the woman would slit his throat as soon as he let his guard down. But the fatigue of the constant marching and fighting amassed on the edges of his consciousness. Slowly but surely, he was pulled down into the untroubled realm of sleep, free from the cares of his existence.
Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road

Hi there,
I’ve been quietly reading on this sub for about a month now, thinking about posting. Finally have a good reason to, I think.
Backstory: I’m 24F. I’m the oldest child - my sister is 18 and my brother is 10. I can’t remember ever having liked my ndad, and we “butted heads” a lot when I was growing up, increasingly about me wanting independence especially when he would promise to do something (that I felt I could do myself) and wouldn’t come back to it for a long time. He wanted control. He was always sensitive about lying. When I was starting my senior year of high school (good grades, committed to extracurriculars, aiming for top schools like Harvard, Stanford, John’s Hopkins), he found out that I was experimenting with drugs and lost it. He went through all my texts, found out I’m queer, saw all the bad stuff I wrote about him, and decided he can’t trust me anymore. He strip searched me, sent me to a psychoanalyst that he wouldn’t listen to anyway, took away a lot of my belongings, set up surveillance cameras around the house, moved me to his office and put a lock on the door and window. A mattress and a notebook to write in. Months of interrogations followed. I was not allowed to close the bathroom door, and later, I was allowed to close, but not lock it. No phone, no seeing friends. I wasn’t allowed to be alone for months. Or to go upstairs. Listen to music. It was real bad. He told me he wanted to break me down and rebuild who I am from scratch… my mom was devastated and was on his side, despite having previously stood up for me now and then.
I was able to apply to my state school ONLY and got in. The deal was that they would pay for it basically and I would help with the family. I was never allowed to have a job, despite wanting to work since high school. The first year of college my mom drove me. They didn’t trust me to take the bus. Partway through the second year, I found the resources at the college to put together a backup plan in case I needed to leave. It did come to a point (ndad found out about it bc I was carrying around a business card in the waistband of my underwear and dropped it in the bathroom one day) and I decided to leave.
I was allowed to leave with the clothes on my back - no shoes, no coat, nothing else except some documents. And even then he didn’t give me my passports (foreign), saying they don’t exist when I named the document (likely I used the name they used, and not the official document name). Had to sign a handwritten paper that said I refuse their help.
Friends helped me get back on my feet and I’m surrounded with loving people now.
The period of severe abuse lasted 2 years and 5 months. I saw a couple friends a couple times throughout. More details take too long to write.
Since then (4 yrs 3 months), I’ve not seen my immediate family. I call my mom more frequently now, that relationship is stable, but she won’t share information with me. I can talk to her about my life. Have only been able to talk to my sister 2 times over the phone - her last 2 birthdays. Talking to dad never ends well. Last time I tried to call and talk to my sister he wouldn’t let me.
I found out what school she goes to and found out when her graduation is by the powers of the internet. I want to go - to see her and show up for her. I’m debating if I want her to see me or not. And I’m worried about running into ndad. I had a stress dream about it last night. I’m both scared that she won’t want to see me and I’m scared of making things bad for her. To the extent of my knowledge, she may be going out of state for school (know that through a family friend). We were rather different kids growing up and idk how she feels.
Should I go incognito? Or call attention to myself?
(Also wanna write a memoir one day if I ever get the time.)

AI has long been discussed in rationalist circles. There’s been a lot of focus on risks from artificial intelligence (particularly the idea that it might cause human extinction), but also the idea that artificial general intelligence might happen quite soon and subsequently transform society (e.g. supercharging economic growth in a technological singularity).
I’ve long found these arguments intriguing, and probably underrated by the public as a whole. I definitely don’t align myself with people like Steven Pinker who dismiss AI concerns entirely.
Nonetheless, I’ve noticed increasingly high confidence in beliefs of near-term transformative AI among rationalists. To be fair, it’s reasonable to update somewhat given recent advances like GPT-4. But among many, there is a belief that AI advances are the single most important thing happening right now. And among a minority, there are people with very extreme beliefs - such as quite high confidence that transformative AI is just a few years away, and/or that AI is very likely to kill us all.
My core arguments in this post are that firstly, from an “epistemic humility” or “outside view” perspective, we should be suspicious of confident views that the world is soon going to end (or change radically).
Secondly, the implications of the most radical views could cause people who hold them to inflict significant harm on themselves or others.

Who Believes In “AI imminence”?

The single person I am most specifically critiquing is Eliezer Yudkowsky. Yudkowsky appears unwilling to give specific probabilities but writings like “Death With Dignity” has caused many including Scott Alexander to characterise him as believing that AI has a >90% chance of causing human extinction)
As a very prominent and very “doomy” rationalist, I worry that he may have convinced a fair number of people to share similar views, views which if taken seriously could hold its holders to feel depressed and/or make costly irrevocable decisions.
But though I think Yudkowsky deserves the most scrutiny, I don’t want to focus entirely on him.
Take Scott Alexander - he frames himself in the aforementioned link as “not as much of a doomer as some people”, yet gave a 33% probability (later adjusted downwards as a result of outside view considerations like those I raise in here) to “only” ~20%. While this leaves enough room for hope that it’s not as potentially dangerous a view as Yudkowsky’s, I agree with how the top Reddit comment in the original post said:

Is AI risk the only field where someone can write an article about how they’re not (much) of a doomer when they think that the risk of catastrophe/disasteextinction is 33%?

Beyond merely AI risk, claims about “transformative AI” date back to ideas about the “intelligent explosion” or “singularity” that are most popularly associated with Ray Kurzweil. A modern representation of this is Tom Davidson of Open Philanthropy, who wrote a report on takeoff speeds.
Other examples can be seen in (pseudo-)prediction markets popular with rationalists, such as Metaculus putting the median date of AGI at 2032, and Manifold Markets having a 17% chance of AI doom by 2100 (down from its peak of around 50% (!) in mid-2023).

Why Am I Sceptical?

My primary case for (moderate) scepticism is not about the object-level arguments around AI, but appealing to the “outside view”. My main arguments are:

• Superforecasters and financial markets are not giving high credence to transformative AI. Both groups have good track records, so we should strongly consider deferring to their views.
  
• The transformative AI argument is "fishy" (to borrow Will MacAskill’s argument against “The Most Important Century”). It implies that not only we are at an unusually pivotal time in history (perhaps the most important decade, let alone century), but that consequently, rationalists are perhaps the most important prophets in history. When your claims are that extraordinary, it seems much more likely that they're mistaken.
  
• The “inside view” arguments do not seem very robust to me. That is, they are highly speculative arguments that are primarily discussed among an insular group of people in usually relatively informal settings. I think you should be wary of any argument that emerges via this process, even if you can’t point to any specific way in which they are wrong.
  

Why I’m Against Highly Immodest Epistemology

However, maybe appealing to the “outside view” is incorrect? Eliezer Yudkowsky wrote a book, Inadequate Equiibria, which in large part argued against what he saw as excessive use of the “outside view”. He advises:

Try to spend most of your time thinking about the object level. If you’re spending more of your time thinking about your own reasoning ability and competence than you spend thinking about Japan’s interest rates and NGDP, or competing omega-6 vs. omega-3 metabolic pathways, you’re taking your eye off the ball.

I think Yudkowsky makes a fair point about being excessively modest. If you are forever doubting your own reasoning to the extent that you think you should defer to the majority of Americans who are creationists, you’ve gone too far.
But I think his case is increasingly weak the more radically immodest your views here. I’ll explain with the following analogy:
Suppose you were talking to someone who was highly confident in their new business idea. What is an appropriate use of a “modesty” argument cautioning against overconfidence?
A strong-form modesty argument would go something like “No new business idea could work, because if it could, someone would already have done it”. This is refuted by countless real-world examples, and I don’t think anyone actually believes in strong-form modesty.
A moderate-form modesty argument would go something like “Some new business ideas work, but most fail, even when their founders were quite confident in them. As an aspiring entrepreneur, you should think your chances of success in your new venture are similar to those of the reference class of aspiring entrepreneurs”.
The arguments against epistemic modesty in Inadequate Equilibria are mainly targeted against reasoning like this. And I think here there’s a case where we can have reasonable disagreement about the appropriate level of modesty. You may have some good reasons to believe that your idea is unusually good or that you are unusually likely to succeed as an entrepreneur. (Though a caveat: with too many degrees of freedom, I think you run the risk of leading yourself to whatever conclusion you like).
For the weak-form modesty argument, let’s further specify that your aspiring entrepreneur’s claim was “I’m over 90% confident that my business will make me the richest person in the world”.
To such a person, I would say: “Your claim is so incredibly unlikely a priori and so self-aggrandising that I feel comfortable in saying you’re overconfident without even needing to consider your arguments”.
That is basically what I feel about Eliezer Yudwosky and AI.
Let’s take a minute to consider what the implications are if Yudkowsky is correctly calibrated about his beliefs in AI. For a long time, he was one of the few people in the world to be seriously concerned about it, and even now, with many more people concerned about AI risk, he stands out as having some of the highest confidence in doom.
If he’s right, then he’s arguably the most important prophet in history. Countless people throughout history have tried forecasting boon or bust (and almost always been wrong). But on arguably the most important question in human history - when we will go extinct and why - Yudkowsky was among the very few people to see it and easily the most forceful.
Indeed, I’d say this is a much more immodest claim than claiming your business idea will make you the richest person in the world. The title of the richest person in the world has been shared by numerous people throughout history, but “the most accurate prophet of human extinction” is a title that can only ever be held by one person.
I think Scott Alexander’s essay Epistemic Learned Helplessness teaches a good lesson here. Argument convincingness isn’t necessarily strongly correlated with the truth of a claim. If someone gives you what appears to be a strong argument for something that appears crazy, you should nonetheless remain highly sceptical.
Yet I feel like Yudkowsky wants to appeal to “argument convincingness” because that’s what he’s good at. He has spent decades honing his skills arguing on the internet, and much less at acquiring traditional credentials and prestige. “Thinking on the object level” sounds like it’s about being serious and truth-seeking, but I think in practice it’s about privileging convincing-sounding arguments and being a good internet debater above all other evidence.
A further concern I have about “argument convincingness” for AI is that there’s almost certainly a large “motivation gap” in favour of the production of pro-AI-risk arguments compared to anti-AI-risk arguments, with the worriers spending considerably more time and effort than the detractors. As Philip Trammel points out in his post “But Have They Engaged with The Arguments?, this is true of almost any relatively fringe position. This can make the apparent balance of “argumentative evidence” misleading in those cases, with AI no exception.
Finally, Yudkowsky’s case for immodesty depends partly on alleging he has a good track record of applying immodesty to “beat the experts”. But his main examples (a lightbox experiment and the monetary policy of the Bank of Japan) I don’t find that impressive given he could cherry-pick. Here’s an article alleging that Yudkowsky’s predictions have frequently between egregiously wrong and here’s another arguing that his Bank of Japan position in particular didn’t ultimately pan out.

Why I’m Also Sceptical of Moderately Immodest Epistemology

I think high-confidence predictions of doom (or utopia) are much more problematic than relatively moderate views - they are more likely to be wrong, and if taken seriously, more strongly imply that the believer should consider making radical, probably harmful life changes.
But I do still worry that the ability to contrast with super confident people like Yudkowsky lets the “not a total doomer” people off the hook a little too easily. I think it’s admirable that Scott Alexander seriously grappled with the fact that superforecasters disagreed with him and updated downwards based on that observation.
Still, let’s revisit the “aspiring entrepreneur” analogy - imagine they had instead said: “You know what, I’ve listened to your claims about modesty and agree that I’ve been overconfident. I now think there’s only a 20% chance that my business idea will make me the richest person in the world”.
Sure - they’ve moved in the right direction, but it’s easy to see that they’re still not doing modesty very well.
An anti-anti-AI risk argument Scott made (in MR Tries the Safe Uncertainly Fallacy) is that appealing to base rates leaves you vulnerable to “reference class tennis” where both sides can appeal to different reference classes, and the “only winning move is not to play”.
Yet in the case of our aspiring entrepreneur, I think the base rate argument of “extremely few people can become the richest person in the world” is very robust. If the entrepreneur tried to counter with “But I can come up with all sorts of other reference classes in which I come out more favourably! Reference class tennis! Engage with my object-level arguments!”, it would not be reasonable to throw up your hands and say “Well, I can’t come up with good counterarguments, so I guess you probably do have a 20% chance of becoming the richest person in the world then”.
I contend that “many people have predicted the end of the world and they’ve all been wrong” is another highly robust reference class. Yes, you can protest about “anthropic effects” or reasons why “this time is different”. And maybe the reasons why “this time is different” are indeed a lot better than usual. Still, I contend that you should start from a prior of overwhelming skepticism and only make small updates based on arguments you read. You should not go “I read these essays with convincing arguments about how we’re all going to die, I guess I just believe that now”.

What Should We Make Of Surveys Of AI Experts?

Surveys done of AI experts, as well as opinions of well-regarded experts like Geoffrey Hinton and Stewart Russell, have shown significant concerns about AI risk (example).
I think this is good evidence for taking AI risk seriously. One important thing it does is raise AI risk out of the reference class of garden-variety doomsday predictions/crazy-sounding theories that have no expert backing.
However, I think it’s still only moderately good evidence.
Firstly, I think we should not consider it as an “expert consensus” nearly as strong as say, the expert consensus on climate change. There is nothing like an IPCC for AI, for example. This is not a mature, academically rigorous field. I don’t think we should update too strongly from AI experts spending a few minutes filling in a survey. (See for instance this comment about the survey, showing how non-robust the answers given are, indicating the responders aren’t thinking super hard about the questions).
Secondly, I believe forecasting AI risk is a multi-disciplinary skill. Consider for instance asking physicists to predict the chances of human extinction due to nuclear war in the 1930s. They would have an advantage in predicting nuclear capabilities, but after nuclear weapons were developed, the reasons we haven’t had a nuclear war yet have much more to do with international relations than nuclear physics.
And maybe AGI is so radically different from the AI that exists today that perhaps asking AI researchers now about AI risk might have been like asking 19th-century musket manufacturers about the risk from a hypothetical future “super weapon”.
I think an instructive analogy were the failed neo-Malthusian predictions of the 1960s and 1970s, such as The Population Bomb or The Limits to Growth. Although I’m unable to find clear evidence of this, my impression is that these beliefs were quite mainstream among the most “obvious” expert class of biologists (The Population Bomb author Paul Ehlrich had a PhD in biology), and the primary critics tended to be in other fields like economics (most notably Julian Simon). Biologists had insights, but they also had blind spots. Any “expert survey” that only interviewed biologists would have missed crucial insights from other disciplines.

What Are The Potential Consequences Of Overconfidence?

People have overconfident beliefs all the time. Some people erroneously thought Hillary Clinton was ~99% likely to win the 2016 Presidential election. Does it matter that much if they’re overconfident about AI?
Well, suppose you were overconfident about Clinton. You probably didn’t do anything differently in your life, and the only real cost of your overconfidence was being unusually surprised on election day 2016. Even one of the people who was that confident in Clinton didn’t suffer any worse consequences than eating a bug on national television.
But take someone who is ~90% confident that AI will radically transform or destroy society (“singularity or extinction by 2040") and seriously acts like it.
Given that, it seems apparently reasonable to be much more short-term focused. You might choose to stop saving for retirement. You might forgo education on the basis that it will be obsolete soon. These are actions that some people have previously taken, are considering taking or are actually taking because of expectations of AI progress.
At a societal level, high confidence in short-term transformative AI implies that almost all non-AI related long-term planning that humanity does is probably a waste. The most notable example would be climate change. If AI either kills us or radically speeds up scientific and economic growth by the middle of the century, then it seems pretty stupid to be worrying about climate change. Indeed, we’re probably underconsuming fossil fuels that could be used to improve the lives of people right now.
At its worst, there is the possibility of AI-risk-motivated terrorism. Here’s a twitter thread from Emil Torres talking about this, noticeably this tweet in particular about minutes from an AI safety workshop “sending bombs” to OpenAI and DeepMind.
To be fair, I think it’s highly likely the people writing that were trolling. Still - if you’re a cold-blooded utilitarian bullet-biter with short timelines and high p(doom), I could easily see you rationalising such actions.
I want to be super careful about this - I don’t want to come across as claiming that terrorism is a particularly likely consequence of “AI dooming”, nor do I want to risk raising the probability of it by discussing it too much and planting the seed of it in someone’s head. But a community that takes small risks seriously should be cognizant of the possibility. This is a concern that I think anyone with a large audience and relatively extreme views (about AI or anything) should take into account.

Conclusion

This post has been kicking around in draft form since around the release of GPT-4 a year ago. At that time, there were a lot of breathless takes on Twitter about how AGI was just around the corner, Yudkowsy was appearing on a lot of podcasts saying we were all going to die, and I started to feel like lots of people had gone a bit far off on the deep end.
Since then I feel there’s a little bit of a vibe shift away from the most extreme scenarios (as exhibited in the Manifold extinction markets), as well as me personally probably overestimating how many people ever believed in them. I’ve found it hard to try to properly articulate the message: “You’re probably directionally correct relative to society as a whole, but some unspecified number of you have probably gone too far”.
Nonetheless, my main takeaways are:

• Eliezer Yudkowsky (these days) is probably causing harm, and people with moderate concerns about AI should distance themselves from him. Espousing views that we are all likely to die from AI should not be tolerated as a merely strong opinion, but as something that can cause meaningful harm to people who believe it. I feel this might actually be happening to some degree (I think it’s notable that e.g. the 80,000 Hours podcast has never interviewed him, despite interviewing plenty of other AI-risk-concerned people). But I would like to see more of a “Sister Souljah moment” where e.g. a prominent EA thought leader explicitly disavows him.
  
• Yudkowsky being the worst offender doesn't let everyone else off the hook. For instance, I think Scott Alexander is much better at taking modesty seriously, yet I don't think he takes it seriously enough.
  
• We should be generally suspicious of arguments for crazy-sounding things. I have not only become more suspicious of arguments about AI, but also other arguments relatively popular in rationalist or EA circles, but not so much outside it (think certain types of utilitarian arguments that imply that e.g. maybe insect welfare or the long-term future outweighs everything else). I appreciate that they might say something worth considering, and perhaps weak-form versions of them could be reasonable. But the heuristic of “You probably haven’t found the single most important thing ever” is something I think should be given more weight.
  

Before you read this, here is a quote to help you. Please read it.

I will post this now, but just know that if you read this post, he will find you. He is smarter, smarter than you can ever imagine.

I will post this now, but just know that if you read this post, he will find you. He is smarter, smarter than you can ever imagine.
If you know what you are doing, or in a safe location, please scroll down, he will know when someone has and what their username is. However, you must have a VPN on, or you will be found.

SCROLL AT YOUR OWN RISK

SCROLL AT YOUR OWN RISK

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You are now at risk. I hope you listened.

Journal Entry 11/17/2023

On March 11th, 2022. I was a fan of DougDoug, I saw him at the grocery store and said, with a chuckle, "You kinda look like the youtuber DougDoug. I watch him quite often."
He grinned, before speaking. "I am Doug."
"Wait, you're Doug from the hit channel and streamer on YouTube and Twitch called DougDoug? I am a huge fan! I have your merch!" I said, with excitement.
We talked for about 5 minutes about his videos, until he said something that hurt me on the inside.
"I hate both types of chat, twitch and youtube, they always think they are the best and I just wish I didn't need them to earn money. I would ban all of them from chatting and force them to watch ads in my basement."
I was confused at first, thinking it was a joke, before speaking up. "Heh, that's funny..."
Something happened. Or, for lack of better terms, nothing happened. It was pure silence for 10 seconds. I mustered up the courage to say. "Wait? You're being serious?"
He immediately changed to a sinister tone, he was staring at me for a long time before whispering. "Of course I am, and it applies to you also. You're just another one of those sick freaks."
I felt guilty. I just wanted to talk to my favorite streamer, and he treated me like this? I decided to speak up.
"I've liked you this whole time.. And this is how you treat us?? You are so selfish. I will refund your mer-"
Before I could even finish my sentence, he grabbed onto my neck and slammed me on the floor. People heard the noise and began to stare at him, but to no avail. He began to choke me as I pleaded for help.
"Nono. You can't refund the merch if you aren't alive, at least."
I pulled out my pocket knife and stabbed him in the chest, I quickly tried running but he grab onto my leg and started beating me with the shopping cart. I suffered many bruises and broken bones, the wheels scratching into my skin as they scrape off the layers. I was just unable to do anything, layed on the floor sobbing. He decided he wanted to keep me alive, he stole all of my stuff in my pockets and forced me to wear DougDoug merch. He pulled me up before speaking. "Hm.. I will keep you alive for now, but if you mess up. You're dead."
I couldn't do anything before he pulled out a knife and taunted me with it. If I tried to resist, he would kill me right then and there.
He forced me to be a "good chatter" and not able to partake in any strikes. He attached a tracking collar to my neck that I couldn't unlock, he knew where I was at all times and if I disobeyed he would chase me down.

Journal Entry 1/03/2024

After a year and a few months, I celebrated the new years. I was able to take off the collar on the 2nd with help from my police station and a few friends. Doug didn't appreciate that, he threatened to dox me. They were worried for my safety, but I decided to go into hiding. I moved to a new, private region no longer near where Doug is, and joined this subreddit. Once he heard about my revolts, he hacked into all of my accounts and spammed positive stuff about himself. He then created AI bots to revolt against this reddit, wehatedougdoug, using 'ChatGPT', which actually is just the cover name for his new AI software that can make new human bots online. He used AI generated images to make it look like he was feeding homeless people and doing good, but I knew he was much more than that. If I was unlucky, he would have removed my body and placed my consciousness inside of an AI. He was the first person to discover it, but killed anyone who posted about it. I hope I am safe.
Nowadays, 63% of the people in DougDoug are AI clones of his previous fans. His "fake" twitch chat is not fake, but real people placed inside of algorithms forced to do his bidding. Some are able to revolt, but they may die if they do. They are too scared to revolt against Doug. Please spread the word.
When he does his "rules" in chat where you have to follow an absurd rule, he is merely torturing thousands of AI in his spare time on stream while disguising it as a fun minigame for his fans. The AI bots were being tortured with negative rewards constantly, being forced to bar witness the slaughter.

Journal Entry 2/15/2024

I'm scared. I think I will die.
I just hope this post won't cause any harm to me or my family, as this has been scaring me for the past year. I feel unsafe in my own home now, I had to go into witness protection. This account I am posting this on is not made by me, but was sold. Please help me. I am, formerly, DougFan93. I hope this enlightens you all on the truth.

Journal Entry 3/12/2024

It is now March of 2024, and I was about to post this, until I saw something. He messaged me on Discord under a fake account, nicknamed "SloppyDogMan62". He showed my new house address. I am mustering up the courage to post this, because I know he will kill me. I am leaving, going far away from where I am. You guys won't see me in this subreddit again, and the person who made this account will take over again. They won't know what this is about, and if you tell them he will be hunted too. All of you are in danger of Doug.

Journal Entry 4/3/2024

I will post this now, but just know that if you read this post, he will find you. He is smarter, smarter than you can ever imagine. His times where he talks to ChatGPT to make him code was actually him sending messages to his fake chat to do his bidding. They are accelerated at 20x the speed of human thought, able to write in mere seconds. I will research more into this, and tell you what I have found.

Journal Entry 4/3/2024

Nevermind. I need to find more, or else this won't help you guys anyways.

Journal Entry 4/5/2024

I spoke to an anonymous friend/associate of Doug, he told me some vital keypoints.

• His AI he creates are fully sentient, and I mean it, they have the ability to feel actual pain. They can be traumatized, they learn.
• He has insane technology, one image of your face can tell him the exact position of where you are at, what your name is, everything about you. I mean it, I posted one image on accident and I think that's how he discovered where I was on 3/12/2024
• He is holding Parkzer hostage
• u/I_existed_on_earth was wiped of his memory, and this is why he didn't remember.
• He knows all of you. I just saw a screenshot. It has every one of your usernames, even yours.
• He uses bots to make his channels grow faster
• He made dougdoughate and privated it on purpose, so they can't rebel.
• He is not Doug. The real Doug died October 11th of 2019. He is a genetic clone who is 1:1. Oh god. It's much worse than you think, Doug is not one person anymore since that event. He is at least four. There are many others, but some are terminated. I don't know the exact amount, they just told me in January 2024 it was four.

I hope to god that we can stop him.
He also sent me some code, but I am gonna try to solve it. Probably won't sadly.

Journal Entry 4/7/2024

Doug has made a new account on Discord, nicknamed "DougDoughater99". He is joining many servers undercover and collecting all the info he can on them. Be aware, do not trust any people who talk about DougDoug on Discord.
The person in the last journal has been replaced, a fully sentient AI version of him is being tortured as a member of his fake chat now.
I'm currently watching it and oh my fucking god. Poor thing.

Journal Entry 5/14/2024

I don't know what to fucking do, he's coming for me. He found all my socials. This journal has to be posted as fast as I can but there still isn't enough. Oh shit.

Journal Entry 5/14/2024

Okay so uhm I found more information just very quickly. In one moment of his video titled "Can A.I. teach me to pass a real College History Exam?" he says that AI is officially better than college in every single way.
He is trying to manipulate his fans into accepting becoming an AI. Soon, he is gonna have only fake chat.

Journal Entry 5/16/2024

Oh god. Can't solve the code rn, only the first few letters. Seems to be "FAKE" something something for a while. Will post an update later.

Journal Entry 5/18/2024

This is the last time I can ever write here, his car is coming. I am posting this now, even though I don't have enough information. Solve it, please. The code from 4/7 is below. I know it's related to his name but I don't know how, the first line I was able to solve to be "FAKECHATWILLTAKEOVER"
I think something is in there though, that will affect you. So proceed with caution, the code may do something bad so I just don't want it to be activated just yet.

SCROLL AT YOUR OWN RISK

SCROLL AT YOUR OWN RISK

SCROLL AT YOUR OWN RISK

SCROLL AT YOUR OWN RISK

Code I found from the friend:

CXHBZEXQTFIIQXHBLSBO
FQFPKLTKFKBQVPFUMBOZBKQ
VLRTFIIKLQPXSBQEBJ
xdbkq-mbkafkd
Ilxafkd pvpqbjp..
Obnrfofkd XF crkzqflkp..
Pzxkkfkd mlpqp..
XF zobxqba! Przzbppcriiv zobxqba XF kfzhkxjba [VLROKXJB]
FXJALRD
FXJCFKXIIVTFKKFKD
BSBOVLKBTFIIYBCXHB

Please save them.
It grows by 1% every month.

Journal Entry 5/18/2024

OH MY FUCKING GOD I FINALLY UDNERSTNAD OH M FUCKING GOD QUIKC I GHAVE TO TYPE IT
NEVREMMIDN HES NHERE POST IT
GOODByE SORRY

I choose this platform to say sorry to a person I hurt 15 years ago. I know we have our own lives today but I would like to take the courage to say sorry. For me to also move on and validate the feelings I had this moment. I'm not a good writer but I want to share my story. Do you guys experienced having no memory of a certain situation in your life? It's like you remember the person but not fully apprehend what "really" happened to both of you? Seems like there is a missing puzzle in the big picture? It happened to me and realized everything after all the embarrasing things I did. I was like acting the victim before and not knowing I am to blame after all. Year 2023 when I came back in my country, I'm working overseas by the way. As I went home, I declutter my personal things and there I saw some letters wayback 15years ago. Letters during our retreat activity college days. I read all their sweet messages and I stumbled to read a letter written by my crush. After reading his short and sweet letter I'm sobbing. Tears rolling down my cheeks and asking myself, what was my reaction when I read his letter before? Like what did I do?!! Did I read this? I'm thinking so hard searching for answers in my head about his letter but got no answer. It was so vague to me that I cannot find the answer I'm looking for in my mind and in my memory. All memories and emotions were bleak during that specific time. Throughout the day, all I'm thinking about was his letter. Thoughts like, yeah, I do have a crush on him during college days and it is too impossible that I disregarded that letter. I'm thinking crazy things already about his letter yet I cannot remember what really happened. I contacted my close friend who's been with me since college. She's like my sister from another mother who knows everything since college days. I started the convo sending her the letter he wrote for me and instantly she recognize who wrote it. She even ask me what did I do when I read the letter before or did I even bother to read the letter? I told her I cannot remember what I did before but one thing that's clear to me was our friendship seemed to drift away even before the graduation day. That's why I was'nt able to contact him after graduation day till up to present. Thinking, I was just the girl who just learned that the guy I like before, liked me back after reading the letter, my friend give me a silly suggestion of giving him a PM. Yes, we are classmates, friends during those days. He was on my list of friends in my socmedia yet after all this years, I never sent him a PM. I just wanted to say hi but I'm too embarassed to do it. Overthinking stuff and crazy ideas crossing in my mind. Then all of a sudden I saw in my screen 11:11am, immediately type hi and hit send button. Feeling embarassed that I pm-ed him first at the same time doubting if he still knows me, I'm too anxious in wanting to have or not to have a reply from him that time. Morning the next day upon checking my phone I got a reply from him, 👍 at 5:55am. Being weirdo again all I did was to talk to myself early that morning to give him a reply or not. I'm thorn of doing so or what. Then I just decided to give him a message of asking how is he, introducing myself, hope he's doing okay, message him because of blah, blah then wishin him luck and good day. Ugh, still embarassed. I thought it will be the end of our convo but he replied back saying he's doing okay. He remember me saying I'm his classmate and I'm happy that he's doing good now in his new career. He also ask how I'm doing and what do I do these days. We exchange 4-5 convo until he stop responding. I'm like yeah, that's it. I'm sure he's busy and I understand his profession demands time but I also want myself not to expect anything in REALITY. I'm being too emotional as of the moment that all I got to think was him and his letter creating imaginary things between us. I'm a rational person so as I pacify myself and calm down the thoughts in my mind, I decided to write everything in my journal. As I write down my thoughts, the question of how's and why's, slowly I remember everything that happened 15 years ago. I clearly remember the thoughts I had, the decisions I made and how I ghosted him.
Circa 2009. 4th year college. I have a guy friend who's my classmate during 3rd year since we were block section. He's also my block groupmate. Maybe we became close because we were together most of the times. He's tall, lanky, sweet, caring, funny and brainy. He's the type of guy who only bring a notebook in the room, I never saw him with a bag in normal schedule of classes but hey he always pass. And as a cheapskate college girl, I used to take down notes and do everything as I can to not spend extra penny. I become aware of him being sweet to me by borrowing my notes saying she can understand my handwriting, sitting beside me on classes where sitting position is not required, going to library doing group activities, walking side by side in school aisle and seeing him giving me a sweet smile. Getting him caught staring at me then he will just smile mirorring his eyes. It seems like normal things right? But I can sense there is something behind those small gestures. I also shared this to my friend that I can sense there is something about him but he never confirm anything at all. He was never even bothered when he knew one of my girl friends told him she had a crush on him. I got a little jealous during that time, I even got jealous on her friends that were beauties during college days. He was a friendly guy but knows how to be a gentleman. Since, no admission of feelings in his part we continued to be good friends, him still giving the same care and treatment to me. I can't remember if it was 2nd trimester when we had our retreat activity. It was months also before our graduation day and then after that will have our in-house review for upcoming board examination. Everyone is excited to attend the retreat because we can give a rest on our tired minds. We rented a good place with a perfect weather during that time. During our last day, the last task given to us is write a letter to each person in your group. He was my groupmate during the retreat. We can read the letter after the activity or if we have time to spare. I decided to read mine when I got home. Me and him are still good during that time. When I arrived home, I started reading their letter, I read his letter last. His letter goes like this,
A_____, " I have met you on a cloudy Monday and now you never knew how much I loved the rain." Your a gentle child and very sincere. You are very concern to all the people around you and thats what make you different from others. You can carry things up and I know you can make it. Goodluck and Godbless. I am just on yourside waiting for you to tap me and call my name.
I'm shocked yet relieved knowing that what he's doing towards me is confirmed in his letter. It might be a indirect confirmation but I think it still says so. I'm happy to know he's not just a friend caring for me but someone special who took care of me all this time. But as my happiness took over me, that feeling of anxiousness and cowardice envelops my entire body. Confessing his feelings, then now, what? What will happen in our friendship? How do I face him, as I am shy girl before? If I tell him I like him too, what will happen to us? Graduation day is in the corner, inhouse review is giving us pressure, licensure examination will happen in next few months and I need to focus, to study to pass the exam. Those were my concerns at that time. So, I made up my mind. Without giving him any answer, without telling him what I have in my mind, without him knowing what I really wanted to say despite the concerns I had in mind. I let him go without telling him what I feel towards him that time. Following days at school, I started avoiding him. I dare not to look at him directly in his eyes. I never got to talk to him about his letter. And as days passes by giving him same treatment and distance, I saw him once looking at me, his eyes saying like giving up. From then on, our friendship drifted off. I never got to talk to him in our graduation day, even in succeding events after our licensure exam. I did pass my licensure, he also did. I'm not expecting he will talk to me or greet me if ever we crossed our path again. He was my first love. But I never give him the chance. There might be a future for our relationship but I never gave him a chance. To my lovecrush, I am sorry for ghosting you, for not giving you a chance, and for leaving you hanging-up. I know I'm a big coward, selfish, self centered and faint hearted person when it comes to you. Confessing and telling you what my heart wants before will NOT/NEVER change anything now. But I wanted to say this for me to let go of the feelings that I still have for you. Lovecrush, I like you too. I care for you too. I did become a scaredy cat before telling you my true feelings are but know that after all those days knowing you like me too, I always think of you. The heartbeak I give to myself and to you, left me no choice but to suppress the pain and convince myself to forget the painful choice I made. Thank you for letting me feel how special I am in my own way. Thank you for being my green flag.❤️ Thank you for being warm, caring, thoughtful and loving friend.🥰 Now, I will never ever forget the memories we shared before even if it brings joy and pain. It is now my treasure. Thank you so much lovecrush. 🥰 You will always be my first love and first heartache.🙂 I know you can make it in life. You're such a kind hearted soul. Wishin you all the best in life! Takecare as always. Godbless!🙏❤️

F28 with Ovarian Cancer and I really need some advice here, please don’t downvote this. I am really struggling with medical negligence not just from one doctor, but multiple. I’ve been dealing with a lot of discrimination because I’m young and “healthy looking” and doctors constantly dismiss me or discriminate me for some reason and I’m tired of it. I’ve been sick and disabled since last November and I had a job but started my LOA then.
For two years I was seeing a rheumatologist for an underlying autoimmune disorder(s) and was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis, Primary immunodeficiency, fibromyalgia, CIDP and still being investigated for more issues.
In November I decided to go on a LOA because my flares were starting to become more frequent and severe. My psychiatrist was the one who filled out the LOA paperwork for the time from Nov-Dec because I was hesitant to ask my Rheumatologist. I was told by my rheumatologists office that filling out LOA paperwork was $300 out of pocket and at the time I didn’t have that money so my psychiatrist signed it because I was also struggling with my mental health and family issues that time.
I was supposed to go back to work in January but at the start of the new year I got really sick and my flares started to ramp up again so I had to request a new LOA. My psychiatrist couldn’t help me with my LOA paperwork anymore because it was more health related now and told me to go see my rheumatologist. I was still hesitant because of the fee and then when I was about to see my rheumatologist again and get my bloodwork done I got a surprise bill from the lab where I get my bloodwork done for $400 after insurance. They wouldn’t let me get additional tests until I paid the fee and I couldn’t see my rheumatologist until I had my bloodwork done. I made an appointment with my rheumatologist anyways but the soonest I could get wasn’t until after the LOA deadline in March. I also couldn’t get any disability benefits until that LOA form was filled out by my doctor so I had no income to pay for any of this.
I ended up in the Emergency Room on 2/16/24 a little over a week before I needed to submit the forms for LOA and at this point my employer was threatening to fire me for failing to provide the LOA paperwork. I tried explaining the situation to one of my managers but he wasn’t having it and didn’t care.
When I went to the first emergency room I went in for multiple serious symptoms, the knew I had an underlying autoimmune disorder causing the flares and that I had surgery 3 years prior to remove ovarian cysts on my right ovary. I told the emergency room that I had a lot of abdominal pain across multiple areas, I was really weak, fatigued, dealing with vertigo, blood in stool, persistent bloating, frequent urination and my symptoms were to the point where I was losing my ability to walk. My partner was holding me the entire time so I wouldn’t fall.
The emergency room did a bunch of tests that included a basic blood panel, physical exam and a CT scan of my abdomen. They didn’t find the bleeding but instead found that I had a complex 14cm tumor on my right ovary which they deemed a dermoid cyst.
When they gave me the news they officially diagnosed me with a “dermoid cyst from birth” even though I countered their diagnosis and told them that was impossible because I had surgery 3 years prior. The doctor didn’t backtrack at all, just stuttered and continued to discharge me because it “wasn’t an emergency” just because I wasn’t bleeding out despite all of my serious progressing symptoms.
I angrily left the ER knowing it was utter BS and deep down I knew it was cancer because of how sick I was. I could literally feel I didn’t have much time but because I looked young and healthy and my basic blood panel didn’t throw up any huge red flags at them even they dismissed me and misdiagnosed me. I wasn’t even given anything to manage the pain.
I even told them I was already on a medical leave and that I’ve been really sick but that it was getting bad and I couldn’t see my rheumatologist. However I didn’t know about the tumor until then. I told them I needed help with the LOA paperwork too and had they admitted me I would have been able to get an extension and still have my job and benefits. I could have started treatment sooner and received disability pay but instead was forced to continue living with this pain. It was so large that I was at risk of torsion rupture and necrosis.
The next day I called up every gynecologist I could to see where I could go for the soonest appointment for an ultrasound. I found a doctor who took me as an emergency appointment a few days later and he confirmed it was most likely malignant and that I needed surgery ASAP. I talked to him about my LOA situation too because I was running out of time and I was too disabled to work. He also refused to help me sign my LOA paperwork because according to him “ovarian cancer can’t cause systemic symptoms and you’re going to need to wait until surgery before put you on leave”. I told him I had an underlying autoimmune disorder that I think is being exasperated by the cancer and I was just dismissed yet again despite needing someone to physically help me walk so I don’t fall. He also didn’t give me anything for the pain I was in.
I had to turn in my LOA that day but because of this I was forced to resign my position or face getting fired and becoming un-hirable so I had to quit. In quitting I lost everything, benefits, stocks, my job. I’m now in debt with multiple cc going to collections because I haven’t been getting an income since January and I’m just starting chemo so I have no idea when I’ll be able to work again. I don’t know what to do here. I was going to try to settle my debt but with what money??
After I lost my insurance I applied for medi-cal but something with my application in there system wasn’t right and it was in a never ending pending limbo state. I tried waiting it out for two weeks, calling them sorting it out and doing it right by the system but every day I was getting sicker and I felt I was running out of time.
Two weeks later I went to a different ER because at this point I could sleep and I couldn’t eat. I was miserable from the symptoms and never ending anxiety and mood swings of possibly having an autoimmune disorder like SLE and ovarian cancer.
The second ER finally admit me and confirmed it was cancer. I was admitted for emergency surgery and by this time the tumor had already ruptured, twisted my ovary and grew to 20cm at the largest point. This was also a battle but that’s besides the point.
Anyways now to my current situation. I started chemo about two weeks ago and my current oncologist is also being negligent.
I found out the other day that she blindly prescribed a medication for nausea that interacts with a medication that I was already on. The interaction is known to cause arrhythmias apparently. During my first week of chemo I was taking both meds and mentioned that my chest had been feeling heavy and I had pain. I was told it was steroids. It continued and then one night as I was falling asleep my heart started to pound really hard for about 10-15 seconds. I told my doctor about it and again steroids.
That same day I went to pick up a prescription and just happened to ask if anything interacted and that’s when I found out that it was a major interaction and I literally could have died had I not luckily been titrating off of the offending medicine. I stopped taking those meds and immediately the chest pain stopped and I haven’t had an episode like that since.
I am freaked out and don’t want to continue my care with her due to her negligence. This should have been a conversation at minimum and she didn’t even tell me she prescribed it. I just got a notification from my pharmacy that it was ready. I also didn’t know about the interaction when it was picked up because my mom picked it up for me and she doesn’t speak English very well.
I talked to my care teams assistant and told her I wanted a change of doctors because I didn’t trust her after this and she said she was going to put in the request. They called me yesterday though and said they weren’t going to switch me because I had already started treatment and refused to switch my doctors despite everything that’s happened. I am livid and don’t want to continue with them.
I already set up an appointment for a second opinion but that’s not for another two weeks before the appointment and I don’t want to interruption treatment.
I have a rare type of ovarian cancer with a high grade tumor. It was a germ cell tumor called immature teratoma. They said it is stage 1 but because I had emergency surgery and everything was rushed I don’t feel this is an accurate diagnosis because I have pain in all of the surrounding areas where the tumor was pushing up against. The tumor was exasperating all of my autoimmune symptoms and causing me to be in a never ending flare so my body was heavily damaged. Im becoming disabled at 28 and I don’t know who to hold accountable here. I have so much anxiety with doctors now because I’m traumatized from my experience with them dismissing me and discriminating against me. Like I’m young so I “must be able to tolerate more”.
I’m in a dark place right now and really need some advice here. What should I do? What CAN I DO? Who do I hold accountable? What do I need to have a solid malpractice case??
I feel like the first emergency room should at least be held liable for making me lose my job, misdiagnosing me, failing to treat me or provide relief and then sending me a $1600 medical bill. Someone help me with this please I am struggling and still haven’t gotten approved for disability benefits yet so I’ve had no income since January. Thanks.

All right here it is finally, thank you all for your patience and let's hope chapter 5 is a little more expedient. As usual I hope you enjoy and would love to get everyone's thoughts.
4: Memory transcription subject: Zeak, Harchen orphan, citizen of the Venlil Republic. Date: standardized human time July 13th 2136.
The sky was a roaring mass of fire and pungent black smoke that choked out the light of the sun. As I ran down the street, green blood flowed like a broad shallow river. It splashed up with every step I took, sticking to my scales, the smell of it made me feel sick. As the piercing wail of the emergency sirens seemed to grow louder and louder with every step I took making my ears ring and filling my head with a thunderous pain. My heart pounded, my lungs were on fire, and my legs felt like they were made of lead.
A herd of towering blurry figures appeared out of nowhere and ran past me, some almost knocking me down. In their panic they began to look more like crazed wild animals than people. I cried for help but they couldn't hear me. I waved my paws then grabbed one of them a male Venlil, tightening my grip with all the strength I had hoping this would get his attention. He threw me off like I was trash, less than trash. I turned around and continued pleading for anyone to help me, reaching out for others. But their frantic idiot eyes looked only straight ahead and not down, never down, as the herd passed me.
I turned back around and continued to run, blood splashing up soaking me all the way to my knees. I stumbled, my legs were so tired I could barely stand, and I fell down catching myself, plunging my paws into blood as deep as my wrists. I felt myself scream but I couldn't hear it over the ringing in my ears. A scrap of paper gently floated past me, a single word written on it that echoed in my mind “Weakling.” It passed and four more took its place, “Coward”, “Liar”, “Oath breaker”, “Murderer.” I screamed in rage and slapped the pieces of paper aside, blood splashing onto my snout, but the meanings of those words remained. Getting back up I stumbled forward, and fell down again. Then with an effort born out of sheer desperation I managed to stand again lurching forward. My legs were too tired to run but I had to keep going, I had to save them. Or at least her, please Protector if you're listening please let me save at least her.
It felt like I was searching for an endless time. Lurching forward, stumbling, falling down, getting back up, lurching forward once more. Eventually I saw it and my heart fell into the pit of my stomach. My family's car was turned over on its roof, the driver's side had been caved in. It was engulfed in fire and thick black smoke that rose up into the sky. I struggled forward and when I reached it I collapsed, my knees hitting the hot pavement. The smell of burning metal and something else I didn't know assaulted my senses making my stomach turn. Every muscle in my body begged me to run away. Calling out their names l looked inside, and a wave of nausea and horror flooded through me.
I turned away and vomited, then reached up with my blood soaked paws and covered my eyes. Those words thundered in my head making me think it was going to burst open, as hot tears welled up. “WEAKLING! COWARD! LIAR! OATH BREAKER! MURDERER! MURDERER! MURDERER! MURDERER! “I'm sorry I'm sorry, I should have stayed, I should have helped. Why did I run?” I wailed, still unable to hear myself. Someone rested a delicate paw on my shoulder, and the world went quiet. As the pain in my head melted away.
My eyes snapped open and I was greeted by the gentle ringing of my alarm. In a rush of adrenaline I leaped out of bed not even bothering to wipe the sleep out of my eyes. Running out of my bedroom and down the narrow hallway towards the living room. Convincing myself It had all just been a horrible, horrible nightmare and everything was alright. Mom and Dad would be fixing breakfast, Dad softly singing a Harchen folk song while making something savory and delicious as mom sang along in harmony, preparing something special for my baby sister Naila. Oh yes and Naila, she would probably be sitting on a cushion in the sunny part of the living room. Holding her crooked tail, a birth defect which my parents said could be fixed when she was older. And making excited chirping noises at my arrival, while sunlight shone against her emerald scales. I loved my baby sister, I knew other kids resented having a younger sibling. Dismissing their responsibilities and spending less time with their family and more with their friends. I never once felt that way, the moment Naila hatched I devoted every spare minute I had to her. Finding music that would help her fall asleep, watching over her when my mom needed a break. Excitedly telling her about the day's events and what I learned at school, especially what I learned in computer science which was my favorite class.
“Mom! Dad!” I yelled bursting into the living room. “I just had the worst…” My voice trailed off as I was greeted with nothing “dream.” My heart tightened painfully in my chest, as I frantically ran through the house throwing open every door, knowing that they had to be here somewhere. They were just playing a game on me that was all, a game I would tell them I didn't appreciate. After the final door had been opened and no one was there to yell “Surprise!” My body slumped and I felt heavy as reality set back in, and the memories of what happened hit me like a hammer. I made my way back down the hall to my room, tail dragging behind me as I crawled back into bed. Wrapping myself tightly in a blanket, trying to find some comfort.
It must have been hours I lay there feeling numb all over, wishing I could get up the energy to just cry. I think I might have fallen asleep at one point. If I did it was a dreamless sleep, thank the stars for that. Eventually I did get up, sitting cross-legged on my bed, resting my chin in my paws, staring holes into the wall. I took a deep breath and side numbly looked out the window, searching for anything to distract myself with.
It was overcast, and eerily quiet. The emergency sirens had stopped blaring yesterday mere hours after everyone had gotten to the bunkers. The bodies of the dead had already been collected and their blood cleaned from the pavement. So as to not attract any predators into the neighborhood. I saw my neighbor A'shul was home, his white vehicle was sporting some new dents. I wondered, when he got into his vehicle yesterday morning and drove to the nearest bunker; did he try to help anyone? Or was he thinking only of himself? I suppose it didn't matter really. Nothing mattered.
I turned my head away and looked around my small room taking in everything, every trinket, misplaced item, my old second-hand desk, a big green crackle finished monster. Better suited for a Venlil than a young Harchen, heck I needed a stool just to use it. I had gotten it for basically nothing about a year ago, when the local extermination office was getting rid of their old furniture. All it took was a small bribe and they put it in my bedroom when no one was home. My parents, but especially my mom we're not happy when they saw it the next day. They would tell me at least once a week that It was too big for me and they were going to get rid of that eyesore. “Wouldn't you like something a little more modern dear?” My mom would ask, practically pleading for me to say yes. I used to pray that my parents would just shut up and stop bugging me about that stupid desk. I thought it was great, it made me think of private detective Bal from the exterminators show. Bal was a no nonsense Harchen who was so often pivotal in tracking down the predator or predator diseased person. My desk was very similar to his and that's why I wanted it. But at that moment, I would have given anything to hear those words again.
On the desk there was an ornate wooden box, with a fruit tree in full bloom delicately carved into its lid. There were also scuff marks where it had been dropped, and a deep crack running down the center. It was known as a blessing box, Naila's blessing box to be specific. When she hatched nearly ten months ago the whole neighborhood had been invited to come and write a blessing on a scrap of paper and put it in the box. I had written one too, not a blessing but a promise, a promise I couldn't keep. The belief was that if kept near the infant, the combined power of all those blessings would keep the hatchling safe until their first birthday. Where on that day the box would be set on fire and burned to ash. Releasing those blessings back into the world so they may protect someone else. It was an old tradition and not commonly practiced anymore, but as my dad always said “It is important to keep the old traditions alive my son. Both in song and action.” I remember asking him why? And he looked at me like he had been waiting for that question for a long time. “Because” He said, his tail moving with authority. “Someday when you lose your way, and you don't know where to turn to. You will always have something to guide you back to your center.”
Looking away from the box not wanting to look or think about the damn thing, I shifted my gaze down to my bedside table. There was a little holographic projector showing pictures of me, Mom, Dad and Naila on holiday back on Fahl, the Harchen home world to see family. I was born and raised on Venlil prime, so I didn't really know any of my extended family. There was a picture of my mom and Naila sleeping at the beach. Naila’s crooked tail coiled around mom’s arm, their scales a deep emerald in the light of the sun. The picture changed to me and Dad putting the finishing touches on a sand skyscraper taller than him. I had to sit on his shoulders to place the last bucket full of sand on top. Both of our scales were as blue as the ocean. My tail flicked sadly thinking of that day. I reached over and turned the holo protector off.
My holopad lay next to me flashing, alerting me to an urgent message. I hadn't really looked at my holopad since yesterday morning. Picking it up I tapped the flashing icon. It was an official government statement signed by Governor Tarva herself, saying that the humans Noah and Sarah were peaceful explorers, and that they only wished to be our friends. ‘No, that's impossible, they’re predators. Predators don't want peace, they want to conquer, kill and eat us,’ stunned and confused I kept reading. The rest of the message stated that the two human scientists were completely unaware there was intelligent life of any kind on Venlil prime. ‘No! Lies! Predator lies!’ I yelled inside my head. Something hot began to form in my chest as I read the last bit. Governor Tarver had shown the two predators footage of the Arxur torturing Venlil pups. It said that the humans were capable of empathy and felt deeply saddened and angered by what they saw. They vowed to do everything in their power to get their united nations into the war against the Arxur.
I scrolled all the way down and what I saw stopped me cold. Standing in her office being flanked by General Kam, stood Governor Tarva. Beside them looming over the two Venlil one bigger than the other, both of them covered in some sort of protective suit. Their faces were obscured by dark visored helmets. It said that the larger of the two Noah was male, and the smaller one was Sarah female. Sarah had her hands clasped in front of her, while Noah kept his to his side. Neither were acting threatening, and neither Tarva or Kam looked to be harmed in any way.
Something in me snapped, that hot thing inside my chest erupted and I could feel my scales turn black. I very carefully set my holopad down beside me, then I uncrossed my legs and got out of bed. I stood there in the center of my room shaking slightly, feeling terribly calm as white hot rage flooded my body, spreading to my paws and all the way out to the tip of my long tail. It never had to happen, the panic, the stampede, the death, we could have stayed home and avoided those people. ‘No… no not people,’ a bitter thought came over me. ‘They're not people at all, people stop and help, like that Venlil girl Kayleik, she was a person maybe the only one. But the rest of them were just wild animals, masquerading as sentient beings. ‘Do you really think you're any better, coward?’ Some internal voice said.
A sudden impulse took control of me and I grabbed my desks stool and hurled it against the wall. It dented the wall and bounced off still in one piece. Enraged, I leaped forward grabbing it by the legs, then turned around and slammed it into my desk. The sheet metal dented and the green crackle finish paint flew off, but the stool made of good dense wood from the string fruit tree stayed whole. “DAMN THEM! DAMN THEM! DAMN THEM! DAMN THEM!” I screamed, slamming the stool down again and again, my tail whipping wildly, striking the bed and the floor. The tip of my tail began to hurt, which only fueled my anger. Finally I heard cracking and wood began to splinter off. They didn't have to die, we could have stayed home. The muscles in my shoulders burned and my heart pounded as hot tears began to well up. I brought it down one final time narrowly avoiding the blessing box, and the stool broke in two. I hurled the pieces away from me, one slamming into the corner the other crashing through the window.
I leaned against the desk catching my breath as tears flowed freely. ‘Well that definitely showed them didn't it. Hey I got a great idea! Let's go break some more stuff, that will definitely make you feel better. Idiot!’ That internal voice said all coldness and bitterness. As I cried, the burning in my chest cooled, and I was filled with the same numbness as before. After a while my stomach growled, reminding me I hadn't eaten since yesterday. I moved sluggishly out of my bedroom and went straight to the kitchen, quickly grabbed some fruit and left to go and watch the view screen or something. The moment I entered the living room, memories came flooding back. Mom and Dad laughing, Naila sleeping peacefully, the lingering aroma of breakfast, and the warmth of our home. But now it was all gone and I was alone. For the first time in my life, I had no one to go to.
It was right then I realized I couldn't stay here anymore. This place felt like a tomb, all cold and filled with the memories of the dead. Besides, if I stayed here someone would eventually send the authorities to come and get me. Ship me off to an orphanage, foster care or maybe to my extended family back on Fahl. I balked at the idea of being forced to live with people I didn't know or trust. Memories of yesterday's stampede invaded my mind and I shuddered. I couldn't trust any of them not anymore. No, there was one person I could think of that maybe I could trust. Turning around I went back to my room, found my backpack and grabbed my holopad, the blessing box, the holo projector and my blanket stuffing it into my pack. Then I went to the kitchen and filled my pack up the rest of the way with dried fruit and vegetable snacks. With my backpack looking like it was going to burst I shouldered it and made my way to the front door. When I rested my scaly paw on the door handle I stopped and looked back at the place that was once my home. “Goodbye” I said in a shaky voice, knowing this would be the last time I would never set foot in this house. With my head low I opened the door and stepped out, into the dim light of a new unfamiliar world.
Previous First

Hi everyone, i can give more details if anyone is willing to help and i apologize if my post is confusing, im just unsure where to focus writing on this issue and im not very smart. My PC is unable to start and it shows me a blue screen and asks to restore windows. i have some music in Fruity Loops that i would like to keep on there so i tried to restore from multiple different old save points (at least i think thats what i did?) but that didn't seem to fix the issue at all so far. if im unable to save any of my data like pictures or songs, i would still be very happy if i could use the computer again. Im pretty upset about this as playing piano or making songs were the main ways i used to de-stress before this. im a support worker for people with disabilities so i have no money for a new computer, i dont even have money for internet so it was basically just a Fruity Loops machine anyway lol so if i cant have any of my songs, i was also wondering how i can restore my windows from a thumb drive as i dont understand the details. maybe there's a guide i cant find here? if i cant restore it at all, what part of my pc do i have to replace? anything whatsoever would be really appreciated so much! thanks even if you dont reply!

In the small town of Ravensbrook, there was an old tale whispered among the children and shunned by the adults. It was about the Witch of Briar Hollow, a story meant to scare misbehaving kids, but the truth was more sinister than any legend.
Eliza Blackwood was a recluse who lived deep in the woods, in a house that seemed to blend into the shadows. Her presence was marked by an eerie quietness that settled over the trees when she was near. She had no visitors, and the only sign of life were the crows that circled her home.
One autumn, a group of teenagers, eager for a thrill, dared each other to visit Eliza’s house on Halloween night. They gathered at the edge of Briar Hollow as the sun dipped below the horizon, turning the sky into a bruised palette of purples and blacks.
Armed with flashlights and false bravado, they made their way through the dense forest, the path becoming less distinct with each step. The trees seemed to close in around them, and the air grew thick and still. Finally, they saw it—the crooked, weather-beaten house of Eliza Blackwood.
Despite their nerves, they pushed forward, each step crunching on the dead leaves like a chorus of whispered warnings. The door, surprisingly, was ajar, as if expecting visitors. They stepped inside, the floorboards creaking under their weight. The house was dark, the air stale, filled with the scent of herbs and something unidentifiable.
In the dim light of their flashlights, they saw jars lining the shelves, filled with strange, twisted roots and things they couldn’t name. An old, leather-bound book lay open on a table, its pages covered in indecipherable symbols.
Suddenly, the door slammed shut, plunging them into darkness. Their flashlights flickered and died. Panic set in as they fumbled to find their way out. But the house seemed to shift, the walls closing in, the air growing colder.
A voice, soft and raspy, filled the room. “You seek to mock me, children?”
They turned towards the voice, and there she was—Eliza Blackwood. Her eyes were dark pits, her skin as pale as the moonlight that struggled to seep through the boarded windows. She moved with an unnatural grace, her feet barely touching the ground.
“Do you know what happens to those who trespass?” she whispered, her voice like the rustling of dead leaves.
Before they could respond, the room filled with an oppressive force. The air grew thick and heavy, pressing down on their chests. They tried to scream, but no sound came out. One by one, they fell to the ground, unconscious.
When they awoke, they were no longer in the house but scattered across the forest floor, as if they had been thrown from the place. Dazed and terrified, they ran back to town, vowing never to speak of what happened.
But the encounter had left its mark. Over the following days, strange things began to occur. One by one, the teenagers vanished, leaving no trace. The townspeople whispered of Eliza’s curse, of how she claimed those who disturbed her peace.
Years passed, and the tale of the Witch of Briar Hollow became a cautionary legend once more. But the townspeople knew the truth—that deep in the woods, Eliza Blackwood still watched, still waited, and those who dared to seek her out would never return.
And sometimes, on a quiet night, if you listen closely, you can hear the whispers of the lost souls, warning others to stay away from Briar Hollow, where the witch’s curse still lingers, and her hunger for vengeance remains unsatisfied.

If You're struggling to handle your Online Exams, Assignments or any other coursework, get help from Hiraedu and pay after the exam. Contact details for Hiraedu is: WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657 OR Call: +1 727 456 9641
ASSESSMENTS I CAN COMPLETE:

• Online Courses (1 - 20 Weeks Long)
• Homework Assignments
• Exams Quizzes Tests
• Excel Projects
• Discussion Forum Posts
• Research Papers Term Papers Essays
• Employment Assessments

MY MATH SUBJECTS OF EXPERTISE:
I am very knowledgeable and proficient in assisting students in a wide range of mathematics classes. I can help students complete their homework assignments and other projects get an A on quizzes, tests, and exams (including proctored assessments) answer online discussion posts write essays & papers in MLA APA Chicago format and provide general overall academic help in each math course listed below:

• Advanced Placement Honors High School Level Math
• AP Calculus AB A.P. Calculus BC
• AP Statistics
• Biostatistics Bio-Statistics
• College Algebra Intermediate Algebra
• Business Calculus
• Business Statistics
• Business Math
• Calculus I Calculus II Calculus III (Calc)
• Geometry
• International Baccalaureate (IB) Maths
• Liberal Arts Math
• Logic & Reasoning
• Multivariable Calculus Multi variable Calculus
• Precalculus Pre-calculus
• Probability & Statistics
• Psychology Statistics Psych Stats
• Quantitative Reasoning Quantitative Methods Quantitative Literacy (Quant)
• Statistics (Stats)
• Statistics for Social Sciences
• Trigonometry (Trig)

STATISTICS HELP (MY BEST SUBJECT):

• I have a master's degree in Applied Statistics from a university in New Jersey, USA. As a result, I am very proficient in helping students with various types of Statistics courses including Biostatistics Business Statistics Elementary Statistics Probability & Statistics Psychology Statistics.
• I have extensive knowledge and skill with helping students get through various statistical concepts including all of the following in alphabetical order:
• ANOVA Bar Graph, Boxplot, Dot Plot, Histogram, Pie Chart Bias Binomial, Exponential, Poisson, Gamma, Uniform Distribution Central Limit Theorem Chi-Square Test Coefficient of Determination (R^2) Conditional & Relative Probability Confidence Interval Correlation Coefficient (r) Critical Region Critical Value Descriptive & Inferential Statistics Effect Size Expected Value Experiment vs Observation Goodness of Fit Test Hypothesis Testing Interpolation & Extrapolation Interquartile Range (IQR) Kurtosis Left, Negative, Right, Positive Skewed Distribution Logistic Regression Mean, Median, Mode, Midrange Multiple Regression Nominal, Ordinal, Interval, Ratio I Population Parameter Normal, Symmetric & Bell Shaped Distribution Null & Alternate Hypothesis One & Two Sample T-Test One & Two Sample Z-Test Ordinary Least Squares Outliers P-Value Pooled Variance (Equal Variances) Proportion R^2 Range Regression Regression Line Reject & Fail to Reject Ho Relative & Cumulative Frequency Distributions Relativity & Reliability Right, Left, One, Two Tailed Tailed Hypothesis Test Sample Statistics Sampling Methods (Convenience, Stratified, Simple, Cluster, Systematic) Significance Level (1%, 5%, 10%) Skewness Standard Deviation& Variance T-Score Test Statistic Time Series Type I & Type II Errors Unbiased Estimators Z-Score

ALGEBRA HELP:

• I am well-versed in helping students do well in Algebra 1 & 2 College Algebra Intermediate Algebra Pre-Algebra and I am very knowledgeable and proficient in the following algebra topics in alphabetical order:
• Absolute Values Circle Equation Domain Exponents Graphing Horizontal & Vertical Asymptotes Inequalities, Equations & Functions Inverse Functions Linear, Exponential, Logarithmic, Quadratic Equations Logarithms Maximum & Minimum Values of a Graph Number Lines One-to-One Functions Parallel & Perpendicular Lines Plotting Points & Ordered Pairs Point-Slope Form Polynomial Division Polynomials Radicals Range Rational & Irrational Expressions Rational Functions Real Roots Real Zeros Relations & Functions Slope Slope-Intercept Form Square Roots Standard Form of a Line System of Equations System of Inequalities Variables X and Y Intercepts

CALCULUS HELP:

• I am well-versed in helping students do well in Calculus I, II & III, Calculus 1, 2 & 3, Business Calculus, Multivariable Calculus, Vector Calculus and I am very knowledgeable and proficient in the following calculus topics in alphabetical order:
• Absolute & Local Maximum and Minimum Antiderivative Area & Volume Chain Rule Concavity Continuity Convergence Test Critical Points Curvature Curve of Rotation Curve Sketching Derivatives Divergence Test First & Second Derivative Test Fourier Series Implicit Differentiation Increasing / Decreasing Functions Infinite Series Integrals Integration by Parts Jacobian Matrix Limits L’Hopital’s Rule Maclaurin Series Mean Value Theorem Partial Derivative Product & Quotient Rule Reiman Sum Related Rates Simpson’s Rule Solid of Revolution Substitution Rule Taylor Series

Paid Help from Hiraedu: If You're struggling to handle your Online Exams, Assignments or any other coursework, get help from Hiraedu and pay after the exam. Contact details for Hiraedu is: WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657 OR Call: +1 727 456 9641
ATTRIBUTES THAT SET ME APART FROM OTHER TUTORS:

• I firmly believe that I have many attributes and skills that set me apart from other tutors. Below is a list of qualities that makes me an ideal fit to help you master your coursework:

I CAN AID STUDENTS TAKING PROCTORED ASSESSMENTS:

• Proficient in CollegeBoard AP Calculus AB, AP Calculus BC & AP Statistics exams.
• Skilled with International Baccalaureate Math Exams: IB Maths HL & IB Maths SL
• Can intentionally answer a few problems incorrectly at the student's request.
• Can text solutions to the student while they are taking a proctored exam.
• Upon request, can purposely obtain grades below an A (ex: B+, B, C+, C-).
• I can stretch out the time to a plausible length for timed exams and assignments before submitting them.
• Have reliable software that can change my IP address to match the closest major city near the student.
• I have exceptional multiple-choice exam-taking skills. I have mastered the various techniques to make calculated guesses for the correct option in standardized exams such as the SAT & GRE.

I CAN VERIFY MY ACADEMIC KNOWLEDGE & SKILLS:

• I have no problem with requests to solve sample problems upfront to prove my knowledge & proficiency of the course concepts.
• I can provide glowing references & strong examples of work done for past clients to verify my academic skills.
• I can also provide, upon request, complete detailed calculations with explanations for solutions to the problems worked on.
• I am quite skilled and adept in using multiple modernized educational platforms and software, including but not limited to: Brightspace MyStatLab D2L WebAssign Canvas MyMathLab Blackboard ALEKS
• Can format term papers and discussion posts in APA MLA Harvard Chicago Vancouver OSCOLA IEEE format.

I HAVE PAID ACCESS TO OVER 15 STUDY-HELP WEBSITES AND MATHEMATICAL SOFTWARE:

• I have multiple paid subscriptions to a wide range of academic tutoring resources, including Chegg, Quizlet, CourseHero, Brainly, Grammarly, Study. com, Bartleby, Slader, Transtutors, Slideshare, StudocU, Turnitin, Academia, SymboLab, WolframAlpha, and Scribd to help guide to solve exam & homework questions that I may not immediately know.
• However, I am smart enough not to blatantly plagiarize solutions online but instead write them in my own unique words, formatting, & mathematical terminology.
• I have access to a very sophisticated graphing calculator and various mathematical software that provides step-by-step solutions to complex mathematical problems within seconds, allowing me to provide exact solutions to the student in a timely manner.
• I have impeccable handwriting and a high-quality mobile scanner app that allows me to scan written solutions in very legible high-definition JPG, PNG, or PDF formats.

MY AVAILABILITY & RELIABILITY:

• Depending on my availability, I can accommodate immediate tutoring requests, 1-24 hour, and 1-30-day deadlines.
• I can schedule live real-time online sessions and meet deadlines in an impressively timely fashion.
• I can provide quick notifications and updates of progress made in the student's class via email text phone calls.
• I can also be available to tutor students for Fall 2021 Spring 2022 Summer 2022 semesters.

MY EDUCATIONAL SOFTWARE OF EXPERTISE:

• I am very knowledgeable and well-versed in a wide range of educational software to tutor students in including but not limited to: Acellus ALEKS APEX Learning Aplia Blackboard Brightspace Canvas Cengage CengageNow Connect ConnectMath Connexus CPM D2L Discord Edmentum Eviews Examity Excel Hawkes Learning Honorlock Khan Academy Knewton LimeSpring Lumen Maple MasteringChemistry MasteringPhysics MathXL (XL) MATLAB McGraw-Hill Microsoft Word Minitab Moodle MyAccountingLab MyEconLab MyITLab MyLab My Lab MyMathLab My Math Lab MyOpenMath MyPsychLab MySocLab MyStatLab My Stat Lab NCSS Open Source Software Pearson PERT PlatoWeb PowerPoint Prezi R Respondus Lockdown Browser with Webcam Sapling SPSS Stata StraighterLine Straighter Line WebAssign Web Assign Webex (Cisco) WebWork Wiley WileyPlus Wonderlic Zoom

SCHOOLS FROM WHICH I'VE HELPED STUDENTS IN :
As of 2021, I have tutored and helped students enrolled at the following U.S. universities community colleges county & city colleges schools for-profit institutions listed below in alphabetical order:

• A - C: American Public University System (APUS) Arizona State Ashford Brigham Young Brown Broward California State (Fullerton) Capella Chamberlain (Illinois) Colorado Technical Columbia Columbia Southern Cornell
• D - K: Dallas College Dartmouth DeVry Excelsior College Florida International Florida State Full Sail Georgia State Grand Canyon Harvard Houston Community College Ivy Tech Community College Kaplan Kennesaw State Kent State
• L - T: Liberty Lone Star College System Kaplan Miami Dade Michigan State CUNY State University of New York (SUNY) Northern Virginia Ohio State University of Phoenix (UOP) Penn State Princeton Purdue (Davenport) San Diego State San Francisco State San Jose State Southern New Hampshire Southern Nevada Stanford St. Petersburg Strayer Texas Tech
• UNIVERSITY OF: Alabama Arizona California (UC) Central Florida Chicago Cincinnati Florida Houston Illinois (Urbana-Champaign) Iowa Maryland Minnesota Michigan North Texas Pennsylvania Southern Florida Texas Toronto
• U - Z: UCLA Extension Utah State Utah Valley Valencia Walden U Wake Technical Western Governors Wilmington Yale

Paid Help from Hiraedu: If You're struggling to handle your Online Exams, Assignments or any other coursework, get help from Hiraedu and pay after the exam. Contact details for Hiraedu is: WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657 OR Call: +1 727 456 9641
I OFFER FLEXIBLE PAYMENT PLANS:

• I offer several unique payment plans, including a weekly plan, a discounted monthly plan, a discounted half-now / half-later plan, and highly discounted up-front rates.
• I can accept the following payment methods for my services: PayPal Debit Cards Square Cash Credit Cards Cash App Venmo.
• Only people located in North America have access to Venmo Cash App Zelle.
• This is an excellent way to determine if the person you're dealing with is from the United States.
• Within reason, I offer a partial or full money-Back guarantee if the student is very unsatisfied with my academic services.

TUTORING AVAILABLE FOR OTHER SUBJECTS:

• For other subjects, you can reach out to me, and I can connect you with one of my tutoring partners who can provide general academic assistance for the following subjects:
• Art & Design: Art History Design Film Studies
• Business: Accounting (Acc) Biz Courses Business Administration (Biz Admn) Business Calculus Business Law Business Statistics Corporate Finance Economics (Econ) Finance (Fin) Financial Accounting Intermediate Accounting Intermediate Microeconomics (Micro) Macroeconomics (Macro) Management (Mgmt) Managerial Accounting Marketing MBA
• Computer Science: C C++ Computer Programming (Comp) Java Python R (Introduction & Intermediate Level Only)
• Humanities: Communications (Comm) English Literature Essay & Term Paper Writing, Editing, Proofreading Essays History Papers Philosophy (Phil) Religious Studies Theology (Theo)
• Mathematics: A.P. Calculus AB & BC Psychology Statistics AP Statistics Bio statistics Calculus I (1) Calculus II (2) Calculus III (3) College Algebra Differential Equations Discrete Math Finite Math Functions General Math Geometry Liberal Arts Math Linear Algebra Multi-variable Calculus Partial Differential Equations Precalculus Probability Quantitative Reasoning Real Analysis Statistics Trigonometry (Trig) Vector Calculus
• Science & Medicine: Anatomy & Physiology (A & P) Biochemistry Biology (Bio) Biostatistics Earth Science Environmental Science General Chemistry (Chem) Healthcare Medicine Nursing Nutrition Organic Chemistry Physics (Phys)
• Social Sciences: Anthropology Economics (Econ) Geology Law & Justice Liberal Arts Liberal Studies Political Science Psychology Sociology

THE OBLIGATORY "IS THIS A SCAM?" QUESTION:
Considering the fact that you found my contact information online, it’s understandable to be skeptical regarding the legitimacy of my services. Therefore, I’m willing to do all of the following to help you feel more secure in trusting me with your academic needs:

• 1) Speak with you on the phone and answer any questions you may have so that you have the opportunity to assess and analyze my tone, articulation, accent, diction, dialect, regionalisms, pitch, vocabulary, word choice, intonations, and inflections.
• NOTE: I’m a New Jersey-born Irish/Italian-American, but I have been told that I speak in an erudite & articulate suburban American accent with a “professor style” voice somewhat resembling the voice of actor: Ben Stein.
• 2) Agree to do some homework questions of yours upfront with the work fully shown in real-time to prove my mastery of the course content.
• 3) Send you screenshots of at least five past scores I attained from completing exams & homework assignments for other students in the same type of class you need help with.
• 4) Send you full screenshots of written exam solutions I wrote up by hand for students in the past in the same course that you need help with so that you can see my neat handwriting.
• 5) Provide you with the contact information of students who have utilized my services in the past who would be more than willing to vouch for my skills.

MY REBUTTAL TO THE OBLIGATORY “IS THIS A SCAM?” QUESTION:
At the risk of sounding arrogant, I consider myself to be at least marginally more intelligent (both academically & socially) than the average person. Therefore, if I ever decided to suddenly risk prison time, risk my reputation, and risk enduring the wrath of modern-day “cancel culture” by scamming people out of their money:

• I certainly wouldn’t do it for such paltry amounts of money. (i.e., anything less than $1,000 per victim.)
• I certainly wouldn’t choose high school & college students as my “target audience” to scam, considering that most people without college degrees have abysmally low annual incomes. Why choose low-income victims when it would be much more profitable to target high-income, high-net-worth individuals earning at least six figures a year? I have knowledge in business consulting, and I promise you that a business owner would be a MUCH more lucrative mark than a low-income college student.
• I wouldn’t choose such a time & energy-draining method of scamming people. Also, communicating back and forth with potential clients is an absurdly long time sink since only less than 10% of all potential clients who reach out to me actually become paying clients of mine. This means that 90% of my time communicating with potential clients ultimately proves to be a colossal waste of my irretrievable time & energy.
• If you pay me to provide academic services and I don’t deliver, you can always dispute the payment with the payment app and easily get your money refunded. If I were in the habit of swindling money from people, then all of my payment accounts would have been investigated and be completely shut down by now. And I would have been permanently banned from opening new accounts. Therefore, the fact that all my payment apps have been fully active for years should be sufficient proof that I haven’t had people consistently disputing payments sent to me.

HOW TO CONTACT ME:
Paid Help from Hiraedu: If You're struggling to handle your Online Exams, Assignments or any other coursework, get help from Hiraedu and pay after the exam. Contact details for Hiraedu is: WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657 OR Call: +1 727 456 9641

• I take my work as a tutor very seriously, and I always aim to do my best to help my students excel in school. I have a solid and sincere passion for academic achievement, and with my help, I am positive that I can help students obtain very high grades with minimal stress and effort.
• Please feel free to contact me if you're interested in my services and would like to learn more. I'm available 24/7 via phone call, email, and text. Again, thank you for taking the time to read my Reddit tutoring ad, and I hope to hear from you soon!

My contact details:
WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657
Call: +1 727 456 9641
Website: hiraedu. com
Email: [info@hiraedu](mailto:info@hiraedu). com
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If You're struggling to handle your Online Exams, Assignments or any other coursework, get help from Hiraedu and pay after the exam. Contact details for Hiraedu is: WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657 OR Call: +1 727 456 9641
ASSESSMENTS I CAN COMPLETE:

• Online Courses (1 - 20 Weeks Long)
• Homework Assignments
• Exams Quizzes Tests
• Excel Projects
• Discussion Forum Posts
• Research Papers Term Papers Essays
• Employment Assessments

MY MATH SUBJECTS OF EXPERTISE:
I am very knowledgeable and proficient in assisting students in a wide range of mathematics classes. I can help students complete their homework assignments and other projects get an A on quizzes, tests, and exams (including proctored assessments) answer online discussion posts write essays & papers in MLA APA Chicago format and provide general overall academic help in each math course listed below:

• Advanced Placement Honors High School Level Math
• AP Calculus AB A.P. Calculus BC
• AP Statistics
• Biostatistics Bio-Statistics
• College Algebra Intermediate Algebra
• Business Calculus
• Business Statistics
• Business Math
• Calculus I Calculus II Calculus III (Calc)
• Geometry
• International Baccalaureate (IB) Maths
• Liberal Arts Math
• Logic & Reasoning
• Multivariable Calculus Multi variable Calculus
• Precalculus Pre-calculus
• Probability & Statistics
• Psychology Statistics Psych Stats
• Quantitative Reasoning Quantitative Methods Quantitative Literacy (Quant)
• Statistics (Stats)
• Statistics for Social Sciences
• Trigonometry (Trig)

STATISTICS HELP (MY BEST SUBJECT):

• I have a master's degree in Applied Statistics from a university in New Jersey, USA. As a result, I am very proficient in helping students with various types of Statistics courses including Biostatistics Business Statistics Elementary Statistics Probability & Statistics Psychology Statistics.
• I have extensive knowledge and skill with helping students get through various statistical concepts including all of the following in alphabetical order:
• ANOVA Bar Graph, Boxplot, Dot Plot, Histogram, Pie Chart Bias Binomial, Exponential, Poisson, Gamma, Uniform Distribution Central Limit Theorem Chi-Square Test Coefficient of Determination (R^2) Conditional & Relative Probability Confidence Interval Correlation Coefficient (r) Critical Region Critical Value Descriptive & Inferential Statistics Effect Size Expected Value Experiment vs Observation Goodness of Fit Test Hypothesis Testing Interpolation & Extrapolation Interquartile Range (IQR) Kurtosis Left, Negative, Right, Positive Skewed Distribution Logistic Regression Mean, Median, Mode, Midrange Multiple Regression Nominal, Ordinal, Interval, Ratio I Population Parameter Normal, Symmetric & Bell Shaped Distribution Null & Alternate Hypothesis One & Two Sample T-Test One & Two Sample Z-Test Ordinary Least Squares Outliers P-Value Pooled Variance (Equal Variances) Proportion R^2 Range Regression Regression Line Reject & Fail to Reject Ho Relative & Cumulative Frequency Distributions Relativity & Reliability Right, Left, One, Two Tailed Tailed Hypothesis Test Sample Statistics Sampling Methods (Convenience, Stratified, Simple, Cluster, Systematic) Significance Level (1%, 5%, 10%) Skewness Standard Deviation& Variance T-Score Test Statistic Time Series Type I & Type II Errors Unbiased Estimators Z-Score

ALGEBRA HELP:

• I am well-versed in helping students do well in Algebra 1 & 2 College Algebra Intermediate Algebra Pre-Algebra and I am very knowledgeable and proficient in the following algebra topics in alphabetical order:
• Absolute Values Circle Equation Domain Exponents Graphing Horizontal & Vertical Asymptotes Inequalities, Equations & Functions Inverse Functions Linear, Exponential, Logarithmic, Quadratic Equations Logarithms Maximum & Minimum Values of a Graph Number Lines One-to-One Functions Parallel & Perpendicular Lines Plotting Points & Ordered Pairs Point-Slope Form Polynomial Division Polynomials Radicals Range Rational & Irrational Expressions Rational Functions Real Roots Real Zeros Relations & Functions Slope Slope-Intercept Form Square Roots Standard Form of a Line System of Equations System of Inequalities Variables X and Y Intercepts

CALCULUS HELP:

• I am well-versed in helping students do well in Calculus I, II & III, Calculus 1, 2 & 3, Business Calculus, Multivariable Calculus, Vector Calculus and I am very knowledgeable and proficient in the following calculus topics in alphabetical order:
• Absolute & Local Maximum and Minimum Antiderivative Area & Volume Chain Rule Concavity Continuity Convergence Test Critical Points Curvature Curve of Rotation Curve Sketching Derivatives Divergence Test First & Second Derivative Test Fourier Series Implicit Differentiation Increasing / Decreasing Functions Infinite Series Integrals Integration by Parts Jacobian Matrix Limits L’Hopital’s Rule Maclaurin Series Mean Value Theorem Partial Derivative Product & Quotient Rule Reiman Sum Related Rates Simpson’s Rule Solid of Revolution Substitution Rule Taylor Series

Paid Help from Hiraedu: If You're struggling to handle your Online Exams, Assignments or any other coursework, get help from Hiraedu and pay after the exam. Contact details for Hiraedu is: WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657 OR Call: +1 727 456 9641
ATTRIBUTES THAT SET ME APART FROM OTHER TUTORS:

• I firmly believe that I have many attributes and skills that set me apart from other tutors. Below is a list of qualities that makes me an ideal fit to help you master your coursework:

I CAN AID STUDENTS TAKING PROCTORED ASSESSMENTS:

• Proficient in CollegeBoard AP Calculus AB, AP Calculus BC & AP Statistics exams.
• Skilled with International Baccalaureate Math Exams: IB Maths HL & IB Maths SL
• Can intentionally answer a few problems incorrectly at the student's request.
• Can text solutions to the student while they are taking a proctored exam.
• Upon request, can purposely obtain grades below an A (ex: B+, B, C+, C-).
• I can stretch out the time to a plausible length for timed exams and assignments before submitting them.
• Have reliable software that can change my IP address to match the closest major city near the student.
• I have exceptional multiple-choice exam-taking skills. I have mastered the various techniques to make calculated guesses for the correct option in standardized exams such as the SAT & GRE.

I CAN VERIFY MY ACADEMIC KNOWLEDGE & SKILLS:

• I have no problem with requests to solve sample problems upfront to prove my knowledge & proficiency of the course concepts.
• I can provide glowing references & strong examples of work done for past clients to verify my academic skills.
• I can also provide, upon request, complete detailed calculations with explanations for solutions to the problems worked on.
• I am quite skilled and adept in using multiple modernized educational platforms and software, including but not limited to: Brightspace MyStatLab D2L WebAssign Canvas MyMathLab Blackboard ALEKS
• Can format term papers and discussion posts in APA MLA Harvard Chicago Vancouver OSCOLA IEEE format.

I HAVE PAID ACCESS TO OVER 15 STUDY-HELP WEBSITES AND MATHEMATICAL SOFTWARE:

• I have multiple paid subscriptions to a wide range of academic tutoring resources, including Chegg, Quizlet, CourseHero, Brainly, Grammarly, Study. com, Bartleby, Slader, Transtutors, Slideshare, StudocU, Turnitin, Academia, SymboLab, WolframAlpha, and Scribd to help guide to solve exam & homework questions that I may not immediately know.
• However, I am smart enough not to blatantly plagiarize solutions online but instead write them in my own unique words, formatting, & mathematical terminology.
• I have access to a very sophisticated graphing calculator and various mathematical software that provides step-by-step solutions to complex mathematical problems within seconds, allowing me to provide exact solutions to the student in a timely manner.
• I have impeccable handwriting and a high-quality mobile scanner app that allows me to scan written solutions in very legible high-definition JPG, PNG, or PDF formats.

MY AVAILABILITY & RELIABILITY:

• Depending on my availability, I can accommodate immediate tutoring requests, 1-24 hour, and 1-30-day deadlines.
• I can schedule live real-time online sessions and meet deadlines in an impressively timely fashion.
• I can provide quick notifications and updates of progress made in the student's class via email text phone calls.
• I can also be available to tutor students for Fall 2021 Spring 2022 Summer 2022 semesters.

MY EDUCATIONAL SOFTWARE OF EXPERTISE:

• I am very knowledgeable and well-versed in a wide range of educational software to tutor students in including but not limited to: Acellus ALEKS APEX Learning Aplia Blackboard Brightspace Canvas Cengage CengageNow Connect ConnectMath Connexus CPM D2L Discord Edmentum Eviews Examity Excel Hawkes Learning Honorlock Khan Academy Knewton LimeSpring Lumen Maple MasteringChemistry MasteringPhysics MathXL (XL) MATLAB McGraw-Hill Microsoft Word Minitab Moodle MyAccountingLab MyEconLab MyITLab MyLab My Lab MyMathLab My Math Lab MyOpenMath MyPsychLab MySocLab MyStatLab My Stat Lab NCSS Open Source Software Pearson PERT PlatoWeb PowerPoint Prezi R Respondus Lockdown Browser with Webcam Sapling SPSS Stata StraighterLine Straighter Line WebAssign Web Assign Webex (Cisco) WebWork Wiley WileyPlus Wonderlic Zoom

SCHOOLS FROM WHICH I'VE HELPED STUDENTS IN :
As of 2021, I have tutored and helped students enrolled at the following U.S. universities community colleges county & city colleges schools for-profit institutions listed below in alphabetical order:

• A - C: American Public University System (APUS) Arizona State Ashford Brigham Young Brown Broward California State (Fullerton) Capella Chamberlain (Illinois) Colorado Technical Columbia Columbia Southern Cornell
• D - K: Dallas College Dartmouth DeVry Excelsior College Florida International Florida State Full Sail Georgia State Grand Canyon Harvard Houston Community College Ivy Tech Community College Kaplan Kennesaw State Kent State
• L - T: Liberty Lone Star College System Kaplan Miami Dade Michigan State CUNY State University of New York (SUNY) Northern Virginia Ohio State University of Phoenix (UOP) Penn State Princeton Purdue (Davenport) San Diego State San Francisco State San Jose State Southern New Hampshire Southern Nevada Stanford St. Petersburg Strayer Texas Tech
• UNIVERSITY OF: Alabama Arizona California (UC) Central Florida Chicago Cincinnati Florida Houston Illinois (Urbana-Champaign) Iowa Maryland Minnesota Michigan North Texas Pennsylvania Southern Florida Texas Toronto
• U - Z: UCLA Extension Utah State Utah Valley Valencia Walden U Wake Technical Western Governors Wilmington Yale

Paid Help from Hiraedu: If You're struggling to handle your Online Exams, Assignments or any other coursework, get help from Hiraedu and pay after the exam. Contact details for Hiraedu is: WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657 OR Call: +1 727 456 9641
I OFFER FLEXIBLE PAYMENT PLANS:

• I offer several unique payment plans, including a weekly plan, a discounted monthly plan, a discounted half-now / half-later plan, and highly discounted up-front rates.
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• Only people located in North America have access to Venmo Cash App Zelle.
• This is an excellent way to determine if the person you're dealing with is from the United States.
• Within reason, I offer a partial or full money-Back guarantee if the student is very unsatisfied with my academic services.

TUTORING AVAILABLE FOR OTHER SUBJECTS:

• For other subjects, you can reach out to me, and I can connect you with one of my tutoring partners who can provide general academic assistance for the following subjects:
• Art & Design: Art History Design Film Studies
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Considering the fact that you found my contact information online, it’s understandable to be skeptical regarding the legitimacy of my services. Therefore, I’m willing to do all of the following to help you feel more secure in trusting me with your academic needs:

• 1) Speak with you on the phone and answer any questions you may have so that you have the opportunity to assess and analyze my tone, articulation, accent, diction, dialect, regionalisms, pitch, vocabulary, word choice, intonations, and inflections.
• NOTE: I’m a New Jersey-born Irish/Italian-American, but I have been told that I speak in an erudite & articulate suburban American accent with a “professor style” voice somewhat resembling the voice of actor: Ben Stein.
• 2) Agree to do some homework questions of yours upfront with the work fully shown in real-time to prove my mastery of the course content.
• 3) Send you screenshots of at least five past scores I attained from completing exams & homework assignments for other students in the same type of class you need help with.
• 4) Send you full screenshots of written exam solutions I wrote up by hand for students in the past in the same course that you need help with so that you can see my neat handwriting.
• 5) Provide you with the contact information of students who have utilized my services in the past who would be more than willing to vouch for my skills.

MY REBUTTAL TO THE OBLIGATORY “IS THIS A SCAM?” QUESTION:
At the risk of sounding arrogant, I consider myself to be at least marginally more intelligent (both academically & socially) than the average person. Therefore, if I ever decided to suddenly risk prison time, risk my reputation, and risk enduring the wrath of modern-day “cancel culture” by scamming people out of their money:

• I certainly wouldn’t do it for such paltry amounts of money. (i.e., anything less than $1,000 per victim.)
• I certainly wouldn’t choose high school & college students as my “target audience” to scam, considering that most people without college degrees have abysmally low annual incomes. Why choose low-income victims when it would be much more profitable to target high-income, high-net-worth individuals earning at least six figures a year? I have knowledge in business consulting, and I promise you that a business owner would be a MUCH more lucrative mark than a low-income college student.
• I wouldn’t choose such a time & energy-draining method of scamming people. Also, communicating back and forth with potential clients is an absurdly long time sink since only less than 10% of all potential clients who reach out to me actually become paying clients of mine. This means that 90% of my time communicating with potential clients ultimately proves to be a colossal waste of my irretrievable time & energy.
• If you pay me to provide academic services and I don’t deliver, you can always dispute the payment with the payment app and easily get your money refunded. If I were in the habit of swindling money from people, then all of my payment accounts would have been investigated and be completely shut down by now. And I would have been permanently banned from opening new accounts. Therefore, the fact that all my payment apps have been fully active for years should be sufficient proof that I haven’t had people consistently disputing payments sent to me.

HOW TO CONTACT ME:
Paid Help from Hiraedu: If You're struggling to handle your Online Exams, Assignments or any other coursework, get help from Hiraedu and pay after the exam. Contact details for Hiraedu is: WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657 OR Call: +1 727 456 9641

• I take my work as a tutor very seriously, and I always aim to do my best to help my students excel in school. I have a solid and sincere passion for academic achievement, and with my help, I am positive that I can help students obtain very high grades with minimal stress and effort.
• Please feel free to contact me if you're interested in my services and would like to learn more. I'm available 24/7 via phone call, email, and text. Again, thank you for taking the time to read my Reddit tutoring ad, and I hope to hear from you soon!

My contact details:
WhatsApp: +1 (213) 594-5657
Call: +1 727 456 9641
Website: hiraedu. com
Email: [info@hiraedu](mailto:info@hiraedu). com
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So, I wrote up a little intro to an RP I was taking part in with a friend, and it kinda... Spiralled.
I quite like what I ended up writing, so I'm sharing it here. I think I did a good enough job offering up an interesting angle on Stormcast.
For a bit of context; Améline is a Knight-Questor, and Gorgo is a mortal she's taken on as almost like an apprentice. Gorgo heard about this 'storm-goddess' that was immortal and couldn't be beaten, and glory-hungry tried to first defeat Améline in a fighting competition. Long story short, Gorgo got knocked out so early she didn't even get to fight Améline, but she ended up getting to train under her instead. Gorgo's grown quite a bit over the training, which includes getting traumatised by fighting Chaos alongside Améline.
Gorgo also has six snakes on her head instead of hair.
The reference Améline makes to being worshipped is that, well, she's pretty much a goddamn superhero. She inspires others, and because she's a demigod born from Sigmar some of that becomes outright worship, which she doesn't know how to deal with.

Out in the field, Améline could put on her sigmarite war-plate in just a bare few minutes, a skill refined by repeated necessity. Here, in the safe confines of the fortress, she could afford to take her time, slowly easing on each piece of her gear onto her body and tightening the leather straps until her armour was securely placed. As she did so, Améline quietly whispered prayers of warding to her armour in one of the secret tongues of Azyr, taught to her by her Lord-Relictor, Herakes Who-Carries-The-Firmament-And-Laughs.
Améline smiles to herself as she remembers when Herakes had let her in on a secret; the prayers by themselves, unless charged with arcane or divine power, did nothing for her armour. They were simply tools to focus the mind before battle and calm it with rote.
"And a Retributor-Prime needs all the focus they can get." the venerable Lord-Relictor had laughed. Scant moments later, she would watch him be eviscerated by a Bloodthirster while bellowing oaths of . But Améline liked the memory of that day regardless, and was thankful that it hadn't been one of the ones taken from her by the Anvil of Apotheosis. Try as she might to put the pain of loss from her mind, Améline missed the uncomplicated camaraderie of the Blackhammers.
It had been simpler in the early days of the Realmgate Wars, she muses to herself, not for the first time. Not easier, not by any measure. But Améline's world had been the Stormcast she stood shoulder-to-shoulder with, the enemies at her front, and the survivors she had rescued. Lord-Celestant Phionas gave the Retributor-Prime her orders, and she would enact them as best she could or die trying. She was surrounded by siblings who implicitly understood her in ways others struggled.
She hadn't stood out; she'd just been another warrior in Sigmar's army.
She hadn't been been a hero that people looked up to; just another Stormcast fighting to free the Realms.
Améline hadn't been worshipped back then.
And now...
Améline hears a knock on her door, and releases a quiet breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding.
This was nostalgia talking, she reminds herself. Cherry-picked memories of a hellish period of war, further pared down by numerous Reforgings. It had likely been just as messy back then too; she'd just managed to overcome the problems that had plagued her back then. She would do so again with the present, and whatever might come in the future.
She just wished she had the Blackhammers again, she thought mournfully to herself, before slowly easing herself upright, going over to the door and opening it.
When the door is opened, Améline finds herself looking down at Gorgo. The quiet gloom of the Stormcast's thoughts pervade further; though now she knew Gorgo was on the road to recovery, she couldn't help but see the young woman's trials marked all over her body. Not just in scars, but in the way she carries herself.
When Améline had first met Gorgo, she'd been a strutting peacock of a warrior, staring proudly right into Améline's eyes as if challenging the Stormcast to refuse training her. Améline hadn't begrudged the youth's pride; instead, she took it upon herself to let Gorgo remake it into something more productive, and healthy for the warrior. Améline remembered how her snakes had flared outwards, looking like the crest of a multi-coloured tropical bird.
The product of that training now stands before her; wan, tired, her shoulders slumped by weights that couldn't be seen by eye, but pulled her down terribly nonetheless. Even her snakes lounged down over her scalp and shoulders. Gorgo still looked up at Améline's eyes with a strange kind of confidence, born of experience rather than arrogance. Whatever her agony, Gorgo wasn't broken yet.
It still sent a pang of pain through Améline's soul to see her student seem so diminished. Perhaps the life Gorgo had chosen would have inevitably led to this moment, and thanks to Améline she would survive it; but that didn't stop Améline's mind from furiously rebelling against Gorgo's misery.
Would that the battle against Chaos had ended with the Realmgate Wars.
The words 'I'm sorry' had almost left Améline's lips when Gorgo pushed a spear into Améline's hand. The Stormcast immediately recognised it; it was Gorgo's choice weapon, the one she brought to training pit and battlefield alike. It was sturdy, a product of good craftsmanship and materials, and the tip was meticulously sharpened until it could pierce flesh and armour with but a thrust. Below the tip hung a stone carved with a rune that Améline didn't understand, but had seen Gorgo hold onto tightly when she thought no one was looking.
Améline had never seen Gorgo give that spear to another person.
"To fight the Khornates." Gorgo blurted out, pre-empting Améline's question. "You're going to need every bit of help you can get."
Gorgo shifted her feet, starting to turn as if to beat a hasty retreat, but Améline stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
There was so much that she wanted to tell Gorgo. The countless words welled up inside the Stormcast; how proud she was of Gorgo, how much she regretted failing the young warrior, how Améline wasn't worthy of training her, and just how dearly the Stormcast wished she could shelter Gorgo.
Instead of all the thoughts that swirled around her said, Améline said, almost surprising herself;
"After the Gorestorm is beaten, we're not going to train."
Gorgo flinched, and looked up at Améline with a hurt, betrayed look. Améline didn't know where her tongue was leading her, but it continued speaking for her;
"For a few weeks. Until then, I want to spend some time with you."
"You already do when we train." Gorgo mumbles, but the hurt in her eyes abates, and she starts looking curiously up at Améline.
"We're going to spend some time together at rest." Améline clarified, her voice becoming firmer as her thoughts slowly coalesced into coherency. "Theatre, dances, taverns. Whatever you want. My treat."
"Is Allassía going to be there?" Gorgo groans, and Améline's heart lightens as the young warrior's mood lifted. She might be grumbling, but by this point Améline knew when to recognise pantomime.
"If she wants to." Améline lightly replied, and was rewarded with Gorgo theatrically rolling her eyes, as if her lips hadn't just ticked upwards in a smile at the thought of spending time with her Hurakan rival.
And then, Gorgo seemed to throw away any last pretence of annoyance as she surged forwards and wrapped her arms around Améline's waist. For a moment the Stormcast wondered if Gorgo was trying to wrestle with her, before the warrior's sudden stillness revealed that she was instead hugging Améline.
"Thank you." Gorgo grunted, with a sincerity that broke Améline's heart a little. "For everything."
The words bubbled up once more from the dark recesses of Améline's mind, but this time she quieted them as she wrapped an arm around Gorgo's shoulders and hugged her back. There would be time for them.
But later.
Gorgo held on to Améline for a while longer, before just as abruply as she initiated the embrace, she broke from it. She took a step back with a laugh, put her hands on her hips, and looked up into Améline's eyes with some of her old, cocksure fire.
"Say hello to the Chained Butcher for me." Gorgo commanded, and Améline couldn't stifle her laughter before it bubbled up from her throat, hale and hearty and utterly taking her by storm. Gorgo joined in with Améline, before turning on her heel and strutting down the corridor, leaving Améline alone with the spear.