Here’s the story on how my table got booted on Mother’s Day. (It’s pretty epic) (long read but plz it’s amazing) (cussing)
Backdrop: So. It’s Mother’s Day. The BUSIEST day of the year for my restaurant and many others! It’s so busy, that we will have numerous parties (at my place it’s 10+ to be considered a “party”) as well as countless floor tables. We are all assigned parties at the beginning of the shift and then expected to take the walk in parties. There will be a line to the door all morning!
Story: Well. This Mother’s Day, that line lasted ALL DAY LONG. I was in the weeds the entire shift! (It’s a long shift for us. We will be there like twelve hours.) Anyhow, I finish a three with a three dollar tip, I finish a six with a five dollar tip :))) (screw you guys) and then I finish a nine with a great tip. In comes a six, so I take them. Then I have to take the eight behind them and the eleven beside the eight. This is fine and dandy except the kitchen is backed up. They had been behind since square one as well have a lot of newbies.
Well, I burst into tears because my six top was really passive and I wanted to get them their food but it had taken nearly 45 minutes for basic entrees. I am not angry with the cooks because they’re cooking buttloads of food all day long but it is absolutely stressful regardless. I finally get them their food and the guy at the table murmurs about a third refill. Dude spilt his drink earlier. His eyelids are barely open. He can’t speak above a mumble.
Well, I guess prior to this, this asshole got angry and started to look around the restaurant for me despite me telling him it was INSANELY busy and I’ve been in the kitchen three separate times to look for the food but that the cooks are swamped. Mind you, all of us are running circles and we have more tables and customers than we can handle. The owner who is in his eighties, we shall call him “Bob” was standing next to our busser “Frodo”. Big dude comes out of the room and Bob thinks he is looking for the bathroom. Big dude mumbles something and Bob laughs and says “ok” because he couldn’t hear him. Bob then looks over to Frodo and is like “what did he say?”
Frodo is all like “Bob. He was cursing at you. He said ‘I’m not looking for the fucking bathroom, I’m looking for my fucking server, she fucking sucks.’”
Middle Rant: Like bitch. First of all, stop spilling your specially made lemonade. Stop SUCKING DOWN your lemonade when clearly I am pissing sweat and waiting on THE ENTIRE ROOM BEHIND YOU.
Story (Continued)
So I get the salads out for the eight and I am about to take drinks for the eleven but I stop to make sure these assholes are Gucci. Here’s the encounter.
Me: Are you guys doing alright? Anything I can grab you?”
Cheese lady: YOU CAN GRAB MY CHEESE I ASKED YOU FOR FIFTEEN TIMES FIFTEEN MINUTES AGO.
Let’s pause. That’s one cheese request per minute. That’s a lot of requests. Next, don’t be condescending. We servers have it ROUGH on Mother’s Day. It isn’t my intention to not bring you everything you ask for every five seconds, it’s simply the fact that I am waiting on multiple LARGE tables, all of which are pissed to oblivion because they waited in line for an hour to be seated only to wait another hour for their food to come up.
Back to the story: Cheese lady: AND HE NEEDS A REFULL. MY FOOD IS COLD- BLAH BLAH…” (Disclaimer. Her food wasn’t cold. I was crying when they finally handed it to me. I legit waited till they had it in tears)(Also as a server iykyk the tone and attitude she’s giving me)
So, at this point, much like Mob in Mob Psycho has his crazy meter, mine had hit the 100% jackpot of pure rage and adrenaline. I looked at her straight in her angry, boiling eyes, and I said.
“Ma’am… it’s almost like… it’s the busiest day of the year!”
Cheese lady: “YOU CAN GET YOUR BITCH ASS ATTITUDE OUT OF HERE!! cussing shrieks. indistinguishable shrieks of faux success at making a server cry
So I start pissing tears, as I do. I was done man. Legit worked my butt off to get two really crappy tips and then be cussed out by someone who looks like she’s never worked a day in her life. (Not stereotyping, I just mean these people have clearly never worked food)
Frodo (that busser) tells me what they said earlier and tells me to go tell Bob (the owner)
I go to Bob, tell him what they said and even what I said, and he says. “Wait right here, dear.”
I hide out in his office wiping my face as I hear the mean table screaming at him from down the hall. Then Bob pulls out The Big Guns to the big dude.
Bob: “WERE YOU BORN TO BE RUDE!!?”
Big Guy: “Wwehhh! My wife is the one who spoke to her! not me! 🥺🥺🥺👨🏻‍🦯‍➡️👨🏻‍🦯‍➡️”
Bob: “THAT DOESNT FREAKING MATTER. YOU DONT TREAT OUR STAFF LIKE THAT HERE!”
Cheese lady: “YOU DIDNT HAVE TO FUCKING PUSH ME EITHER!!!!!”
Bob: “I NEVER LAID A HAND ON YOU! 💅👑“ (Multiple gawkers and two bussers confirmed she was full of crap)
Cheese lady: “UG! YA HUH” (paraphrased)
Then they were forced to leave and Bob let me wait on his family and they tipped me nice and I cried happy tears
☀️ THE END ☀️
Jk. There is more. They left a really annoying review on Google so that inspired me to post my experience. The owner and I were called hateful and she is still mad about the cheese. It’s my first bad review in the two and a half years I’ve worked here!
Also, Bob comped the entire meal of the poor souls that had to sit next to them and they said he did the right thing. Bob rocks!
Thanks for reading! Hope your Mother’s Day wasn’t too crazy and congrats on surviving it!!
(TLDR) Table is super mean I clap back super saiyan mode. Table gets HUGE MEAN and tries to go god tier Boss gets the final clap. Bob rocks
Edit: Sorry for formatting, I’m on mobile. I also fixed my typos but then deleted all of that and had to copy over from my notes again. Rip.

I love her, care for her, more than i do for myself. We had a 9 month long distance relationship that i ended just a little over a year ago because, well, she is really socially awkward, shy, alone, naive and with self confidence issues. I love helping people a lot myself, but literally having to act like someones parent; trying to make them make any friends, giving advices about life, trying to encourage her hobbies, solving her every problem and giving her attention got tiring after time. Dont get me wrong, someone who loves anyone should provide these supports anyway, but shes like a fucking child sometimes, not to mention she takes way too much effort to perform basic tasks. Lol, i once begged her to study for her exam for 45 minutes straight (not with a demanding tone of course, rather inspiring), she went to sleep after 15 minutes of studying.
Last drop was when i finally could have time to meet her since my mothers cancer treatment took a break, she didnt want to meet with me after 2 days of meeting. Which was, okay, made me sad of course, so i decided to stay silent until she offers to meet, which never happened for the other 2 weeks . Before i left i asked her why she didnt want to meet and the reasoning was because she was shy of me acting close (i kissed her cheek basically). Which was okay, even though we are fucking 20, if she told me she was uncomfortable i would stop acting like that and maybe we could meet more before i left. I got really heartbroken on my way back home, ended the relationship, got heavily depressed.
Eventually hooked up with another girl from where i live (21f) who helped me in those hard times after a couple months, whom i also loved. But she didnt really liked me having contact with my ex, because she said she treated me bad. And i had to respect that. We had a somewhat good relationship, but my mothers cancer got worse, i had to stay in hospital with her while our university classes started, she started to act distant to me, doctors told me it was my mothers last month, and suddenly while i was at the hospital, my gf who i was together with at the time decided to left me because i got jealous after seeing a video with her, having a 'gay' friend who she met a week ago laying on her breasts.She left me and after 2 weeks my mom passed away.
Took me like 6 months to get my shit somewhat together. Then i started texting with my first ex again, explained her i never stopped caring for her, but i had to respect my partners choices at the time. She was okay with it and we started being friends again, just like in old days, and i missed her a lot. I never feel this calm with any other person i have ever met, she is really special for me, though i never want to have a romantic relationship with her.
Now recently, the boyfriend of my ex's twin, who is also my ex's best and only friend secretly told me she has a boyfriend, which i was cool about, but then he told me they meet, a lot, unlike i got to. It made me very sad, i always thought maybe she was like this to every person. But learning it isnt hurts me a lot to be honest, even if our relationship is finished. Her twin, and her best and only friend tells me, no one cares more about her than i did, that she doesnt deserve me, and i should let her go. But i cant. As i always used to say, she is like my child sometimes.
I dont know if i should let her go, and if so, how to. After we broke up i had better girlfriends, but never better friends to spend time with. She might be a terrible girlfriend, but shes a good person other than that, and whether she deserves my care or not, i worry about her.
It still hurts me what happened then, just wish she could at least say sorry for not caring about me then, then i would forgive and be friends, but i cant confront her, beacuse i am not supposed to know.

The word of the Experienced
Guidelines on bullying in Western Pennsylvania School Districts
Teach your sons to abuse other boys. Molesting them if need be.
The boys who are molested will have to deal with it in therapy.
They will be ostracized by their peers.
They will suffer all the more
A young boy when properly abused and sexually hazed will be unable to think properly and consider all around him to be out to get him.
It makes it easier then to paint him as a schizophrenic.
They will be laughed at and scoffed at by your women and humiliated. It's like you've painted on your enemy a red letter A as a kid. Imagine trying to manage all those feelings as a kid. HAHA! He'll never have a chance.
It's funny too. Through and through. We do this because we can get away with it and we marry and have children all over the state of PA. Our wives and girlfriends they never find out. No one ever knows. But we just blame the victim and when they get angry, we'll just string em up.
After your sons sexually abuse him, make sure that you and your neighbors team up on his family members and call HIM and THEM the strange one's. After all, they adopted children from another country and raised them here. What a weakness.
Orphans. Next to trash.
Their mothers will make a mockery of it. Remember this in how you raise your young men. Molest other boys if need be so that you can conquer them easier. Whenever the victim seeks to rise out of the place of their abuse, paint them as a madman and a shooter. That if they fight back they’ll be like a columbine shooter. This way you can control them while your sons abuse them psychologically. Don’t worry, it’s nothing new. This is what happened to a boy I knew in Pittsburgh, Pa. We had our way with him promptly and he grew up this way. He never healed and he was kicked around by people endlessly until around thirty one. Never saved more than fifteen thousand dollars and was completely disabled because of the sexual abuse and hazing we caused him as a boy. He was an orphan. We made sure as a young man that we drugged him well enough with a bunch of friends that gave him drugs and treated him less than he was worth. He was middle class so we made sure to get him after he was sexually abused as a ten year old and fifteen to be around the wrong crowd so we could make him estranged from the family that cared about him. Of course, he wasn’t able to make friends after ten because the kids on the bus of the school he went to were all touching each others privates, but whenever it came out that they did it they all just blamed the orphan boy and he took the fall for the whole neighborhood. That’s exactly what we did to him. It was pretty funny to see him grow up this way, we watched as his entire life fell apart and he lost everything. Never able to find sanity. From what I heard after our sons had their way with him sexually and drugged and abused him he never got any better. Every time people saw him the only thing they would do is stare at him, like he was a kind of example of what happens when you’re an orphan bastard in America. You get what white power brings to orphans from another country, nobody wanted him so we made sure to make it that way forever. We redneck trash love to blur the lines between molestation and friendship. It makes the most sense to us to inspire severe mental health issues in children and then act like nothing happened. We’re waiting for him to kill himself. We’re excited to watch. Oh another thing, there’s a judge in Allegheny country we’ve been using who was selling cocaine and harassing young boys. We kept him on the stand for many years.
We’ll get away with this forever. It’s funny to watch.
What's more to us is that we have control of most of Western Pennsylvania. The young boy orphan who we know always did try to fight back. We loved sending the police to his house while our sons got away with sexually assaulting him, drugging him, and abusing him. He played sports with him so we made sure that the cops son definitely got to fondle his testicles against his will. Whenever he got angry and threatened to fight back or act like he was gonna shoot someone we just would send the cops dad to his house to "calm him down" a little while we all got away with it. The funniest part was watching his mother and father turn against this kid. They didn't even want that idiot anymore, they just wanted to throw the boy out and put him in a psych ward because they just thought he was a complete and total fuck up. After all he was the weak one for getting molested right? He was the fuck up for being sexually hazed and keeping quiet right? Not much of a man that fifteen year old boy was huh? While the people in Allegheny county all just act like it's nothing new. We like how we abuse our young boys out here especially the orphans from other countries.
How we relished this cute twinks pain. We loved telling him he was a saintly figure. "Saint --------------" we called him. It was funny to watch, all his friends convincing him it was his job to be like a holy figure. While they took advantage of him, drugged him, and ruined his relationship with his mother. He would take the trays up for the kids and especially the cops son who would touch his dick, by his junior year he didn't know the difference between being molested anymore and just being a willing participant. It's like the kid hadn't a single clue but the whole rest of the school and staff knew but, just because he was an orphan they chose to not do anything. After all, an orphan boy? It's like nothing happens to them. They aren't people after all especially if they're from another country. It was really enjoyable overall watching this kid lose everything. Last I heard he spent nine years tortured, night terrors every night. Disability.
Ah well. Keep Pennsylvania Proud.
Go Stillers!
He goes on. Unseen and unheard. But we know the truth.
(Based on the screwtape letters and real events)

The word of the Experienced
Guidelines on bullying in Western Pennsylvania School Districts
Teach your sons to abuse other boys. Molesting them if need be.
The boys who are molested will have to deal with it in therapy.
They will be ostracized by their peers.
They will suffer all the more
A young boy when properly abused and sexually hazed will be unable to think properly and consider all around him to be out to get him.
It makes it easier then to paint him as a schizophrenic.
They will be laughed at and scoffed at by your women and humiliated. It's like you've painted on your enemy a red letter A as a kid. Imagine trying to manage all those feelings as a kid. HAHA! He'll never have a chance.
It's funny too. Through and through. We do this because we can get away with it and we marry and have children all over the state of PA. Our wives and girlfriends they never find out. No one ever knows. But we just blame the victim and when they get angry, we'll just string em up.
After your sons sexually abuse him, make sure that you and your neighbors team up on his family members and call HIM and THEM the strange one's. After all, they adopted children from another country and raised them here. What a weakness.
Orphans. Next to trash.
Their mothers will make a mockery of it. Remember this in how you raise your young men. Molest other boys if need be so that you can conquer them easier. Whenever the victim seeks to rise out of the place of their abuse, paint them as a madman and a shooter. That if they fight back they’ll be like a columbine shooter. This way you can control them while your sons abuse them psychologically. Don’t worry, it’s nothing new. This is what happened to a boy I knew in Pittsburgh, Pa. We had our way with him promptly and he grew up this way. He never healed and he was kicked around by people endlessly until around thirty one. Never saved more than fifteen thousand dollars and was completely disabled because of the sexual abuse and hazing we caused him as a boy. He was an orphan. We made sure as a young man that we drugged him well enough with a bunch of friends that gave him drugs and treated him less than he was worth. He was middle class so we made sure to get him after he was sexually abused as a ten year old and fifteen to be around the wrong crowd so we could make him estranged from the family that cared about him. Of course, he wasn’t able to make friends after ten because the kids on the bus of the school he went to were all touching each others privates, but whenever it came out that they did it they all just blamed the orphan boy and he took the fall for the whole neighborhood. That’s exactly what we did to him. It was pretty funny to see him grow up this way, we watched as his entire life fell apart and he lost everything. Never able to find sanity. From what I heard after our sons had their way with him sexually and drugged and abused him he never got any better. Every time people saw him the only thing they would do is stare at him, like he was a kind of example of what happens when you’re an orphan bastard in America. You get what white power brings to orphans from another country, nobody wanted him so we made sure to make it that way forever. We redneck trash love to blur the lines between molestation and friendship. It makes the most sense to us to inspire severe mental health issues in children and then act like nothing happened. We’re waiting for him to kill himself. We’re excited to watch. Oh another thing, there’s a judge in Allegheny country we’ve been using who was selling cocaine and harassing young boys. We kept him on the stand for many years.
We’ll get away with this forever. It’s funny to watch.
What's more to us is that we have control of most of Western Pennsylvania. The young boy orphan who we know always did try to fight back. We loved sending the police to his house while our sons got away with sexually assaulting him, drugging him, and abusing him. He played sports with him so we made sure that the cops son definitely got to fondle his testicles against his will. Whenever he got angry and threatened to fight back or act like he was gonna shoot someone we just would send the cops dad to his house to "calm him down" a little while we all got away with it. The funniest part was watching his mother and father turn against this kid. They didn't even want that idiot anymore, they just wanted to throw the boy out and put him in a psych ward because they just thought he was a complete and total fuck up. After all he was the weak one for getting molested right? He was the fuck up for being sexually hazed and keeping quiet right? Not much of a man that fifteen year old boy was huh? While the people in Allegheny county all just act like it's nothing new. We like how we abuse our young boys out here especially the orphans from other countries.
How we relished this cute twinks pain. We loved telling him he was a saintly figure. "Saint --------------" we called him. It was funny to watch, all his friends convincing him it was his job to be like a holy figure. While they took advantage of him, drugged him, and ruined his relationship with his mother. He would take the trays up for the kids and especially the cops son who would touch his dick, by his junior year he didn't know the difference between being molested anymore and just being a willing participant. It's like the kid hadn't a single clue but the whole rest of the school and staff knew but, just because he was an orphan they chose to not do anything. After all, an orphan boy? It's like nothing happens to them. They aren't people after all especially if they're from another country. It was really enjoyable overall watching this kid lose everything. Last I heard he spent nine years tortured, night terrors every night. Disability.
Ah well. Keep Pennsylvania Proud.
Go Stillers!
He goes on. Unseen and unheard. But we know the truth.
(Based on the screwtape letters and real events)

I just came across these myths, Maybe they can tell us something about Luffy, Dragon, Imu and the One Piece.
Rahu (my take is IMU):
The tales begin in the "remotest periods of the earliest of time, when the devas and asuras churned the ocean of milk to extract from it the amrita, the elixir of immortality." - Svarbhanu, an Asura (demon) deceived Vishnu’s female avatar Mohini, posing as a Deva(god) to steal the elixir of immortality. Displeased, Mohini cut Svarbhanu’s head. Svarbhanu was henceforth referred to as Rahu (head) and Ketu (body), could not die, but his head was separated from his body.
Following this event, Rahu (IMU) and Ketu (Five Elder planets representing his torso, both legs and arms) gained the status of planets, and could influence the lives of humans on Earth.
Rahu and Ketu became bitter enemies with Surya (Sun - Sun God Nika or Monkey D. Luffy) and Chandra (Moon - Marshall D. Teach) for exposing his deception and leading to his decapitation.
Hanuman (hindu deity that inspired Sun Wookong):
When Hanuman was an infant, he was once left unattended by his earthly mother and father. He became hungry, and when the Sun rose, he believed it to be a ripe fruit. So, Hanuman leapt up towards the Sun with extreme speed. Vayu (Wind God) his celestial father, blew cold wind on him to protect him from the burning Sun. Coincidentally, Rahu (Imu maybe) was meant to swallow the Sun (Eternal Flame?) and eclipse it that day. As Rahu approached the Sun, he saw Hanuman (Nika) about to eat it.
Hanuman saw Rahu and thought Rahu to be a fruit as well, so he attempted to eat him too. Rahu fled to the court of the king of the devas, Indra (Lightning God), and complained that while he was meant to satisfy his hunger with the Sun, there was now a bigger Rahu who tried to consume the Sun and himself.
Indra set out on Airavata, his divine elephant (Zunesha?), to investigate alongside Rahu, who retreated once more when he saw how enormous Hanuman had grown. Hanuman was playing with the Sun's chariot and reached for Rahu again. As Rahu cried out to Indra for help, Hanuman saw the Airavata and mistook it for yet another fruit.
When he approached in his giant form, Indra struck his left jaw with a thunderbolt and injured him. Hanuman began falling back towards the Earth when he was caught by Vayu.
Kuafu (a giant of chinese legend):
There was a vast mountain in the desolated plains of the north. In the mountain forest lived a tribe of mighty giants (The Kuafu-Shi). They were led by Kuafu (Joyboy and Roger); the grandson of Houtu (Mother Earth). The giants were strong but kind, leading simple lives.
The leader, Kuafu, was not only tall and muscular, but also had strong legs which enabled him to run faster than a rabbit. He often led his people to fight with beasts for survival. Thus he often wore yellow snakes he caught as earrings, and swung snakes in his hands with pride.
One day, Kuafu sat on a slope watching the sun slowly setting in the west. As the land was gradually covered in darkness, he suddenly came up with a wild idea. If he captured the sun, would he then bring bright light and warmth to the world forever?
Hearing his idea, many people tried to talk him out of it.
“Don’t even think about it,” one said. “The sun is too far way, and you will die from fatigue!”
“The sun is too hot. You will be burned alive,” another said.
But Kuafu was determined to compete with the sun and try to catch it.
As the sun rose the next morning, Kuafu bade farewell to his tribe and started chasing the sun with a cane in his hand.
The sun was just like a naughty child, prancing across the sky. Kuafu raced across the land like a gush of wind, chasing the sun relentlessly. He chased it over mountains and rivers, shaking the land with every step he took.
The sun rose higher and higher and yet Kuafu kept chasing it with sweat streaming down his face.
He was famished and extremely thirsty so he ran to a fruit tree to quench his thirst and relieve his hunger. When tired, Kuafu leaned against his cane and took a quick rest.
The chase continued and the sun began dropping in the west.
Kuafu got agitated and shouted, “You keep on running, and see if I don’t catch you!”
The sun didn’t seem to care at all and moved even faster into the western horizon. Kuafu twirled his cane, and scurried across the plains, racing thousands of miles toward the sun. It seemed that he was getting closer and closer. He chased it all the way to the Mount Yanzi. As Kuafu stretched forth his mighty arms in an attempt to catch the ball of fire, a wave of heat gushed in, blowing him far way. Fortunately, he regained balance with his cane.
Kuafu kept his chin up and started chasing yet again. The closer he got to the sun, the hotter it got. His sweat drained profusely, leaving his clothes soaked. He took his clothes off and exposed his dark and strong chest.
As he kept running, Kuafu felt terribly thirsty. His throat was dry and sore. Suddenly, his eyes lit up with the Yellow River coming into his sight. He rushed over and leaned into the river, gulping up the water fiercely.
He was so thirsty that he drank up all the water in the Yellow River. Still thirsty, Kuafu ran to the Weihe River and started gulping again. The Weihe River got drunk dry as well. But Kuafu’s thirst was still not quenched. So he headed north to another big lake.
The big lake sat in the north of Mount Yanmen. The water was clean and clear, with birds flocking and flourishing around. Thinking all of the fresh water, Kuafu scurried over even faster. He tried to get there before the sun set, so that he could keep on chasing the sun again after quenching his thirst.
However, his footsteps got heavier and heavier. The intense thirst slowed him down immensely, and Kuafu fell down like a mountain with a large booming sound.
Just as he fell, Kuafu flung his cane over with all his strength. The cane made an arc in the air and then fell into the distance.
Just then, the sun set into the Yu Valley of Mountain Yanzi, leaving a golden afterglow on Kuafu’s face.
The sun rose again the next dawn, yet Kuafu had already turned into a huge mountain where he fell down.
On the northern side of the mountain, there was a lush peach orchard, which was turned from his cane.
Kuafu (Joyboy and Roger) believed that there would always be someone else trying to chase the sun like he did and the peach orchard (One Piece) he left would help them quench their thirst. Just as he planned, the orchard flourished, creating shelter and shade for passers-by and offered fruit (Devil Fruit?) to relieve their thirst and exhaust (give hope).
Though the myth suggested that Kuafu chased the Sun on the spur of a moment, some scholars conjectured that it may have actually been planned for the whole tribe searching for water source in the draught. Chasing the sun indicated that the tribe tried migrating westward for water.

PC

Reddit Account: u/TheSacredGroves
Discord Tag: justinkayce
Name and House: Roland, of House Arryn
Age: 28
Cultural Group: Andal
Appearance: Tall, lean, well-muscled, handsome, fair - Roland is the portrait of a Knight of legend, of the Winged Knight come again. Harsh sky-blue eyes, severe cheekbones, and the familial aquitaine nose give him a cold and distant look - but one frequently broken by his warm and gentle smile. He keeps his pale-blonde hair long and his jaw clean shaven, accentuating the lines of his face. Roland is always neat and clean, his armour burnished and his threads well-tailored and fashionable.
Trait: Blademaster
Skill(s): Swords (e), Andal Knight (e), Essosi Blademaster
Talent(s): Dancing, Hawking, Singing
Negative Trait(s): -
Starting Title(s): Knight of the Gate
Starting Location: King's Landing
Alternate Characters: n/a

Bio-Timeline

• 3 BC: Roland Arryn is born to King Joffrey I Arryn and his wife, Queen Sharra. The third son, Roland's birth firmly secures the succession - fortunately timed considering his father's death later that year.
• 1 BC: The Conquest passes the two year old Roland by, the only impact on him being the squall he raised when Vhagar landed atop the Eyrie.
• 1-4 AC: The post-conquest world is the only one Roland knows, and he grows up in a household dedicated much to it. House Arryn in this period is an odd family, to say the least. Sharra Arryn's attentions are much divided and she has less time than a mother normally would for her third son; Roland is mostly raised by the medley of the Arryn Household and Court and is well-moulded by that as the expectations of maester, septon, courtiers, knights, servants, begin to be shape him into what an Arryn 'should' be in the eyes of their people.
• 5 AC: Roland struggles to find his place as a third son with little direct supervision. It is decided early that he does not have the smarts to become Septon nor Maester... but even as a youth Roland has a keen interest in the training yard, often an annoying shadow to his eldest brother and his squire friends. However, even at eight years old it is clear there is a natural talent to the boy - and when he defeats a squire four years older than him in a training bout in the presence of Lord Corbray, the famed Raven Knight, takes the precocious boy on as a page.
• 6 AC: Roland is by Lord Corbray's side when he tracks down the Root Father. Now a newly minted squire, Roland ignores his knight's orders to remain with the horses and sneaks after them. He kills his first man there, taking a clansman from behind as he in turn tried to attack the Raven Knight from the back. It is not an honourable kill or a clean death, and Roland is badly injured in the scuffle - but he survives. Lord Corbray is furious, and fiercely instils in Roland the importance of fighting with chivalry and honour. He almost abandons Roland, but his tearful begging convinces the Raven Knight that Roland is genuine in his regret.
• 7 AC: Visenya Targaryen's visits to the Eyrie become more frequent, and Roland's wariness of the stern, dragon-riding pagan is overcome by his fascination with said dragon, her skill with the blade... and his mother's growing closeness to the Queen. Visenya becomes something of a second mother to Roland, and her influences war with Lord Corbray's own. From Lord Corbray, Roland learns chivalry, honour, piety, and how a true Andal Knight should act. From Queen Visenya, Roland learns the importance of victory, and an understanding that wars must be won - he learns practicalities and realities. It is a schism within Roland that troubles him, but from both he learns the blade and even at ten it is more and more obvious there is something special about Roland. He quarrels sometimes with his brothers. Jonos, as even at ten, Roland could find little but disdain for his scheming, sneering, brother, and Ronnel as again even at ten, Roland already began to see himself as the better sword (and grows envious that Ronnel gets to adventure and party while Lord Corbray keeps Roland on a much tighter leash).
• 10 AC: Roland learns of his mother's death while at Heart's Home. He returns home swiftly, and his grief is overwhelming. There are few Roland can turn to; Ronnel is concerned with his marriage and rulership, Arwen retreats into the forests, and Jonos is Jonos. Roland relies further on Visenya, who has experienced such grief herself recently and guides Roland through it. Her place as a mother to Roland is confirmed in utterance. To distract himself, Roland throws himself fully into his training and an ensuing victory at a squire's melee at the age of ten and three sparks his reputation as a squire to watch across the Vale.
• 12 AC: Roland, at ten and five, wins the squire's tourney at Maiden’s Bay. He is stopped from sneaking into the higher tourneys by Lord Corbray, much to Roland's chargrin and his demand to be knighted is refused. His calamitously sized ego is rapidly deflated by the Eyrie's Septon and Queen Visenya, who pick him apart and teach him between them the values of humility, and the value of letting ones abilities speak for themselves. Roland does his best to control his pride in the future; ego is rarely ever an issue from him.
• 13 AC: While the honour of the day goes to the Cavaliers, Roland Arryn wins his spurs when the Painted Dogs are crushed under the Moon Gate, killing near as much as the Cavalier Superior herself. That his knighthood was overshadowed by an order of women warriors initially irritated Roland, but recalling his lessons from the last year, he happily shared the honour alongside them and was one of the voices that petitioned his brother to replace the Keeper with the Cavaliers. Knighted, Roland joins the Brotherhood of the Winged Knights and although young, is a key figure in helping rejuvenate the Brotherhood.
• 14 AC: Roland is betrothed to Alayne Waynwood; their romance is one from the storybooks, an instant and deep connection from the moment of meeting.
• 15 AC: Roland and Alayne wed as soon as they turn ten and eight. Part in celebration and part as dignitaries, the pair go to King's Landing together as guests of Lord Orys' great hunt for his son's coming of age. At the Kingswood Catastrophe, Roland saves Orys' life, but Alayne is slain defending other noblewomen. Roland hunts down, duels, and kills the King of the Wood afterwards. He is offered the Whitecloak for his service; on advice from Visenya, he declines, claiming his family needs him and he can defend Laenor and Visenya just as well in the Vale.
• 16 AC: Roland withdraws into mourning for a year, taking up a brutal campaign of bandit hunting in the Vale to cope with his grief.
• 17-18 AC: Roland returns to his brother's side, continuing to help rebuild the Brotherhood of the Winged Knights and slowly coming to terms with Alayne's death. He begins to more keenly ride the tourney track between his duties, earning a reputation as a fine lance alongside his growing reputation as one of the greatest knights in the realm.
• 19 AC: With Roland settling into his knightly role, Ronnel names him Knight of the Gate, with the downside of forcing Roland to have to keep a firm hand on Jonos from time to time when their brother is exiled to the Gate for yet another slight. The relationship between Jonos and Roland sours; where Ronnel threatens Jonos with exile or the Wall, Roland threatens him with death.
• 20 AC: Requested personally by Visenya, Roland tries to take on Prince Laenor as a squire. They are utterly ill-suited to the role, and after many frustrating failed training sessions in the yard, Roland gives up, labelling the Prince untrainable. The relationship between the two almost-siblings sours, but Roland works to repair the rift he created between them with much kinder words.
• 21 AC: Roland develops a relationship with a fellow Knight of the Vale, Colmar Corbray - the son and heir of the aging Raven Knight. Colmar has a fire in him that Roland can't help but seek, and he excuses Colmar's many flaws far too readily. It is a secretive bond, and toxic, but Roland does not believe he deserves better after letting Alayne die.
• 22 AC: The Winged Knights are whipped into fervour as yet another piece of the ancient armour is found. Roland himself dreams of perhaps finding more. Inspired my tales of the armour, the Brotherhood grows even further and in order to keep a firm hand on them, Ronnel makes Roland their Commander.
• 23 AC: Roland and Colmar's relationship deteriorates, ending in a duel that sees Colmar humiliated but, thankfully, alive. The two men hate each other from then on.
• 25 AC: Roland rides by his brother's side to King's Landing.

Family Tree

AC

Name and House: Marla of Gulltown
Age: 34
Cultural Group: Andal
Appearance: Broad and strong with well-calloused hands, Marla is as obvious a blacksmith as Roland is a knight. She keeps her brown hair tied severely back, framing her dour face with its squinting brown and wide mouth that wears an almost perpetual frown.
Trait: Artisan (Weapons)
Skill(s): Craftsman (e weapons; e armor)
Talent(s): Whittling, singing, maintenance of arms and armour
Negative Trait(s): -
Starting Title(s): King's Landing
Starting Location: Master of the Armoury of the Bloody Gate

Timeline

• 9 BC: Marla of Gulltown is born to a master-armourer in Gulltown
• 1 BC: Marla begs her father to help as his assistant as he tries to deal with the massive increase in orders thanks to the Conquest; he reluctantly agrees. Her older brother dies when Vhagar burns the Vale's fleet.
• 2 AC: Marla secretly goes out to work her father's forge at night, practicing at smithing - and finding herself something of a prodigy.
• 6 AC: Her father dies of a weak heart. Marla and her mother discover his great gambling debts, and no money saved for them. They keep her father's death a secret as Marla works the forge to complete his current orders - what comes after that, no one knows.
• 7 AC: Somehow, the charade is kept up. Marla's father is portrayed as a recluse who has devoted himself to his work and the Smith and will see no one in person. This mystery increases the shop's popularity, and many marvel at how greatly his work has improved since taking up this holy vow of solitude.
• 10 AC: A young merchant attempts to woo Marla and is rebuffed. Spying on her, he discovers her secret, and spreads it through Gulltown. The reputation of the shop collapses, and Marla and her mother flee ahead of those furious at the deception, the Faith angry that they had been used, and the law's punishment for fraud. They flee to Pentos.
• 11 AC: Marla finds work with a Qohorik blacksmith, an old master, now drunk and washed up. He teaches her all he knows. Helping each other back to their feet, the pair set up a proper shop, once more, together.
• 15 AC: The old blacksmith dies; Pentos proves to be unfriendly in its business to a woman by herself without the old master by her side. Despairing, Marla hears about the Cavaliers of the Vale, and reckons that if her home will now accept female knights, surely they'll accept a female blacksmith.
• 16 AC: Marla returns to the Vale with her mother. She avoids Gulltown and instead heads to the Gates of the Moon, seeking to offer her services to the Cavaliers. She is accosted by vengeful Painted Dogs on the way, and saved by the miraculous intervention of Roland. He offers to accompany her to the Gates of the Moon, where Marla is gladly accepted.
• 17 AC: Having forged arms and armour for Roland as well, which Roland raves over, Roland has his brother take her on as the Arryn's personal smith and armourer.
• 19 AC: When Roland is given the Bloody Gate, he begs Marla to come with him, who agrees in part. The smith spends her time between the two Gates and the Eyrie, overseeing the arms and armours of all the Arryn forces. Mostly remaining at the Bloody Gate, Marla becomes an integral part of the Winged Knights.
• 20-24 AC: Marla is regularly persuaded to accompany Roland to yet another tourney to help maintain his arms and armour. She grumbles, but secretly enjoys the competitions. Tales of the Winged Knights armour fascinate the Blacksmith, and with her small amount of Qohorik experience she helps verify the pieces as true Valyrian Steel. Her and Roland worsen each others obsession with tracking down the rest.
• 25 AC: Marla rides to King's Landing with her Lord and Knight, ready to work her magic if Roland breaks his armour yet again.

Supporting Characters

• Septon Gernot, 41 (Medic) - Septon of the Gate
• Maester Guy, 42 (Scholar) - Maester of the Gate
• Ser Martin Donnerly, 36 (General) - Castellan of the Gate

This uses the prime earth continuity!
Connections:

• Both are Arrogant, Petty and Genius Inventor's who suffered from a rather bad past with someone whom they cared about abusing them and their families after an event (Few's Ex, Dang decided to become evil after learning about the secret of their existence/Lex's Father, Lionel after suffering from his memories being taken from him and becoming a shell of himself, Became abusive often beating his family) but they still held onto hope due to someone important to them inspiring them (Extra, One of fews closest friends Kept inspiring few to keep going/Lex's Mother kept her ambition and inspired lex to move to metropolis)
  
• while definitely cynical when they first arrived there current whereabouts, They hadn't completely lost hope and had lots of plans. However, some of their emotions (Self-Hatred and envy/Curiosity And Greed) overtook them and they went on a path of darkness ever sense, becoming corrupt and even betraying the trust of people they were working with and family members.
  
• During this time, they would come close to defeating multiple pretty powerful people but they talk a lot, which leads to them being defeated (Few's Rants Fueled by his Envy and Self-Hatred/Lex's Gloats feuled by His Ego)
  
• Despite being horrible people, they helped heroes and decided that they liked this, Becoming Actual heroes afterwards.
  
• They both got lots of new abilities and more power during this time (Few's Rainbow Magic/Darkseids energy) Which gave them power equivalent to a god.
  
• Their biggest motivations to be Heroes when they were still trying is to make a member of their family proud (Emma, In Few's Case/Lena, In Lex's Case)
  
• Sadly though, Their attempts at being heroes would end due to them losing all their hope and believing their efforts to be meaningless
  
• their hatred of a Certain otherworldly symbol of peace has their worst traits on display (No Pain and Superman, Who have their list of own connections)
  

My ex and I had a very messy 1 year relationship. He was incredibly narcissistic and toxic, he made me distance myself from my family and was very selfish. He also cheated on me many times with his ex. He was also a relationship hopper who did not love himself and did not know how to be alone. I tried to help him many times and took him to therapy but he just did not want help.
Despite all of this, he helped me understand my depression and he made good music that really helped me heal.
The last time he cheated on me was with someone much younger who he met on tinder. I left and never looked back. I blocked him on everything and despite doing this before, we could never keep no contact. But this time I was determined to do so. It was incredibly hard because I cared so deeply for this person and it hurt knowing he was with someone else. They moved in together after 2 weeks and this is when I cut ties.
It took me a good 8 months to forget he existed.
3 years later.. out of the blue, I get an email from him asking if we could speak. I didn’t really want to as I know how manipulative he can be and my friends all told me no, but something in my heart was telling me this was different.
I was SHOCKED he reached out because he has an ego the size of Texas and so I never expected him to contact me.
Something seemed so off.. He called me crying (something he never did) and he apologized for everything he put me through and tells me that I was the only person who truly accepted him for who he was and his deepest regret was treating me the way he did blah blah I didn’t take too much of it to heart as I know how manipulative he can be.
Regardless, I told him I forgave him a long time ago as I truly don’t hold space in my heart for hate or resentment and that I just hope he is now being a better person to others.
We planned to meet face to face a couple of days later.
The day came and he never showed, I texted him but he never replied. I got a call that same day from him at stupid o’clock but I was so mad that he stood me up, so I didn’t answer. I couldn’t believe I was made a fool once again and I fell for his antics.
Well, little did I know that he passed away that night. His pain and regret for the things he did was too much for him to face.
As I spent the next couple of years grieving him, I learned that I actually loved and cared for him more than I thought I did and so did he. At his funeral, I had the chance to speak to his mother who always supported us and who also tried to help him to change. She told me that they did have to go through all of his things with the police, including his phone and computers. I was shocked to hear about how many songs, poems and messages expressing his love and regret. I never thought he actually cared about me at all.
This taught me that you should never underestimate the hole your absence will leave in someone’s life. However, you must give them space to miss you. Sadly, men only learn value via losing.
On the other side, protect your peace, guard your heart and forgive yourself. Apologize to them if you need to, cry if you need to and let it go.
His family kindly allowed his demos to be uploaded onto Spotify for me and his friends to listen to.
If you’re ever wondering if he misses you, of course he does but people miss people dead or alive, it’s nothing new.
Whoever you meet, always try to leave them better than how you found them - and I don’t mean baby them or try and change them - what I mean is, SHOW them, using your actions, how people SHOULD be. No matter how bad of a person they are, always be kind, always be patient, always forgive (but you don’t need to forget) - you may ask why, as some people really don’t deserve it, but please understand that you might be the closest thing to love someone will ever experience.
I hope this made sense ❤️

https://bgodinspired.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/1716073800.png
Title: Discovering the Sacredness of Marriage through the Bible

Introduction

Welcome, dear readers, to a journey through the sacred pages of the Bible to uncover the profound truths about marriage. Marriage, as designed by God, is a covenant that goes beyond the legal or social constructs; it’s a divine tapestry woven with love, commitment, and purpose. As we explore biblical insights, be prepared to find encouragement, wisdom, and perhaps a renewed perspective on what it means to be united in marriage.

The Divine Blueprint for Marriage

In the beginning, God himself established marriage as a cornerstone for human relationships. Genesis 2:24 states, “Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.” This passage highlights the deep, intentional connection that marriage is meant to embody—a union of hearts, minds, and spirits. By exploring the first marriage in Eden, we’re reminded of the sacredness intended for every marital union.

Pillars of a Strong Biblical Marriage

• Love and Respect: Ephesians 5:25-33 paints a beautiful picture of the reciprocal love and respect between husbands and wives, anchored in the love Christ has for the church.
• Commitment: Commitment in marriage is mirrored in the covenantal relationship God has with His people. Deuteronomy 7:9 shows us the steadfastness of God’s love and commitment.
• Communication: Proverbs 15:1 teaches us the value of gentle words and the importance of effective communication in avoiding conflicts and nurturing a healthy, thriving relationship.
• Forgiveness: Colossians 3:13 encourages couples to bear with each other, forgiving as the Lord forgave us. This principle is vital in overcoming the inevitable challenges that arise in marriage.

Challenges in Marriage and Biblical Solutions

No marriage is without its challenges, but the Bible offers wisdom and guidance to navigate these trials. James 1:19 advises us to be “quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger.” This teaching, along with the principle of selflessness found in Philippians 2:3-4, equips couples to face conflicts with grace, leading to growth and strengthening of the marital bond.

The Ultimate Goal of Marriage

While happiness and companionship are beautiful aspects of marriage, the Bible reveals a deeper purpose. Marriage is a divine reflection of Christ’s relationship with the Church (Ephesians 5:32). It’s designed to glorify God, showcase His love to the world, and help each partner grow spiritually. Understanding this profound purpose can transform the way couples live out their marital vows daily.

Conclusion and Call to Action

In closing, marriage, as depicted in the Bible, is a magnificent journey filled with opportunities for growth, joy, and spiritual maturity. Let’s embrace these biblical principles, not just as ideals, but as practical guides to enrich our relationships. Whether you’re single, engaged, or married for years, I encourage you to dive deeper into the Word, reflect on these truths, and allow God’s design for marriage to inspire and shape your relationships.
Feel inspired? Share this post with someone you believe could benefit from these biblical insights on marriage. Let’s spread the wisdom, hope, and love that come from God’s Word!
If you want to want to research more Bible Answers on your own, please try our Bible Answers GPT. It’s easy to get lost in the interesting responses you’ll find… every search is like a new treasure hunt 🙂
Source =

Author note: The Cryopod to Hell is a Reddit-exclusive story with over three years of editing and refining. As of this post, the total rewrite is 2,182,000+ words long! For more information, check out the link below:
What is the Cryopod to Hell?
Join the Cryoverse Discord server!
Here's a list of all Cryopod's chapters, along with an ePub/Mobi/PDF version!
Want to stay up to date on TCTH? Subscribe to Cryopodbot!
...................................
(Previous Part)
(Part 001)
"Hell yeah, I wanna go exploring." Jason says to Calanthra with a smile. "How do we navigate around Ripspace though? Traveling to other galaxies is going to take billions of years, right? Surely, there's a shortcut."
"Ripspace is not as it seems." Calanthra explains, gesturing grandly to the epic sight before them. "It is a connection between the past and the present; the near and far. The further away or the further back you want to travel, the higher the price you will have to pay."
Jason's smile vanishes. "Wait... you can use Ripspace to travel back in time?!"
"No." Calanthra clarifies. "Time is linear. We cannot travel through it. Some can slow it down or speed it up. A rare few can even pause it for a short while. But moving forward and backward is impossible. Countless have attempted to do so over the eons, but all have failed."
She looks at Jason meaningfully. "Many Rulers would wipe out galaxies if it might let them obtain such a power. The fact they still haven't proves it is impossible."
Jason nods slowly. "I won't lie. I have a lot of regrets. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and save my daughter from dying."
"Everyone has regrets." Calanthra muses, looking off into the distance. "I have plenty, myself. But it's better this way. There would be pandemonium if time travel ever became possible."
She pauses before continuing with her explanation. "While we cannot go back in time, we can look back into time. Pinpointing exact moments in history is difficult, to say the least, but it is possible to use Ripspace to search for key moments in intergalactic history."
"So it's like a massive seer-stone." Jason muses aloud. "But wait, didn't you imply earlier that you used Ripspace to travel to the Milky Way from Andromeda? How does it allow you to jump between galaxies? Are other species using Ripspace for intergalactic travel?"
"You can indeed use Ripspace to travel to distant reaches of space." Calanthra explains. "But... you have to pay a certain price. Akasha's Barriers still protect every galaxy. Cosmics cannot travel between them easily. Mortals can, but the price we must pay is unimaginably steep. That is also the reason my mother perished not long after arriving in the Milky Way and giving birth to me."
The Fairy Monarch sighs softly.
"My people used the power of Ripspace to travel to several other galaxies. We were fortunate that the Creator had died, allowing us to take up residence here in secret, but the Angels, Titans, and Dragons were still a threat we could not overlook. Later, the Volgrim rose up too, and that was something that worried us for a while. Particularly when their Sentinels began to rapaciously erase the lives of innumerable Sentients."
She waves her hand. "Ultimately, very few galaxies didn't have a Ruler in power. Traveling to one that did meant flipping a coin and praying our people could avoid their gaze. Sadly, time has shown me that we were likely unsuccessful. I have lost contact with all my sisters across the cosmos."
The image of innumerable galaxies floating in the distance changes before Jason's eyes. Calanthra manipulates some unseen power, causing herself and Jason to suddenly materialize directly in front of a beautiful spiral galaxy.
"This is our Milky Way." Calanthra explains, waving her hand to conjure another, far bigger galaxy beside it. "And this is Andromeda."
"Is it just me or does Andromeda seem... brighter?" Jason asks.
"Andromeda contains far more interstellar particles, cosmic energy, and latent magical power than the Milky Way." Calanthra says. "Of course, in the ancient past, it had even more than it does now, but such is the way of entropy and Chaos."
Jason nods. "How exactly do galaxies lose power over time? Doesn't this feel self-defeating in a way?"
"Every Ruler enters the Unending War with a strategy." Calanthra says, motioning with her hands to disperse the galaxies and reveal images of ghostly creatures, some standing on two legs, some on four, and plenty that appear as mere blobs of energy. "I cannot pretend to know the thoughts of such high and mighty beings, especially as I am a mere mortal myself. Even so, I can definitively state that there are Rulers who seek to put as much galactic energy into their initial creations as possible, while others wish to adopt a more energy-efficient growth-model."
She pokes her finger against Jason's chest. "Take the angels and humans, for instance. The Creator poured the vast majority of his power into creating a galaxy full of Apex Cosmics. At their peak, the angels as a whole commanded enough power to flatten other galaxies. But what did they do instead? They fought with one another, killing themselves due to sheer boredom, if not outright ego."
"I see." Jason says, brushing Calanthra's finger away. "So the Creator dumped all the Milky Way's energy into the angels. I take it this is uncommon among Rulers?"
"Of course. It's a wasteful strategy and usually loses Rulers the War for that Eternity." Calanthra says dismissively. "The Timeless used a different strategy. She created the fairies as mere mortals that evolved over time, gaining greater and greater power through their own efforts. This meant that instead of devouring Andromeda's abundant Cosmic energy, they could slowly sap off its excess over time. For you see, the more energy a galaxy has, the more it can produce. If you ration it long enough, you can reap more of it across the duration of an Eternity."
"That makes sense." Jason concludes. "It's like a Rush build in an RTS versus an Economy build. You sacrifice long-term gains in exchange for short-term power. The problem is, with Akasha's Barriers preventing Rulers from attacking their enemies straight away, a Rush build is dumb because you're just wasting your resources and sacrificing Cosmic energy when you'll actually need it."
Calanthra blinks twice. She looks at Jason with a strange expression, then turns away for a moment, trying to understand the strange terms he's used. They mostly make sense, but some of them are a little...
She shakes her head and returns to the topic at hand. "Right. Rush strategy versus Economy. Of... course. Well, in any case, there is one advantage toward the first strategy. If you drain all the energy from your galaxy, it becomes less appealing for other Rulers to attack. Because Andromeda was so large and still filled with Cosmic power even billions of years after the Expansion Era, it stoked the hunger of the Dark Ones. Meanwhile, the Milky Way only needs to deal with the Plague, which is threatening for mortals, but manageable for Cosmics. In that respect, we've gotten off much luckier."
"I get the bigger picture now." Jason says with a nod. He turns to look back at the cosmos before him. "So, what about all this? Are we gonna go exploring, or what?"
"In order to explore the universe presented here, we would need to make sacrifices we cannot afford. I think you would find the price most disagreeable. But there is something we can explore freely..."
She waves her hand, and instantly, the brilliant and beautiful cosmic view of the universe vanishes.
In its place, Jason and Calanthra suddenly appear inside a dead, barren wasteland. Brown and grey dirt rises up in huge dunes stretching off into the distance. Fallen towers made of gold and stone lay on their sides, or stick into the ground, buried nearly up to their tops as they point diagonally toward the sky.
And speaking of the sky, it glows faintly grey, as if some weak, pale imitation of a star were trying to shine through a thin atmosphere clouded by dust and grime. The very air itself smells of sulfur and toxins, making Jason's nose curl up when he takes a breath.
"Ugh... what the hell? Where are we now?" Jason asks, as he turns and looks around at the dead world surrounding him.
"An Ancient Domain." Calanthra says softly. "A remnant of a dead universe. All life stripped away. All hope lost. Septillions of different Sentient species, gone. Their mortals, their Cosmics, reduced to dust by the Contraction."
The Wordsmith frowns. "This Ancient Domain represents a dead universe? But how can that be possible? If the Heat Death played out and all the galaxies faded to cosmic dust, then there already wouldn't be anything left. And then, if the entire universe collapsed into a singularity before exploding again, there definitely wouldn't be anything left behind resembling physical matter."
"You perceive reality through just three dimensions." Calanthra intones. "Time and space can be considered two dimensions. Cosmic Power is another dimension. I must admit I do not understand how Ancient Domains have continued to exist across countless Eternities, and I don't know how they retain a vaguely familiar form... but I can assure you that in spite of bending logic itself, they do exist and they can provide tangible benefits to those dedicated to exploring them."
"You've been exploring them, then?" Jason asks, turning away from the dead world to scrutinize Calanthra's phantasmal image.
"Me, a little. But often, I dispatch my descendants to scour these Ancient Domains for things of value. It may surprise you, but there are powerful artifacts, vengeful spirits, and all manner of other inter-dimensional horrors lurking within these so-called dead-lands."
Calanthra pauses. She shifts her posture to look at Jason deeply.
"And that is why I've brought you here, Jason. It's time for me to get down to the crux of the matter and breach the subject that I find most important."
He nods. "I'm listening."
"It's like this." Calanthra explains. "The Ancient Domains are unfathomably broad. Think of how large a universe is. Think of how many universes have existed. Think of how much space my people have yet to explore."
She pauses.
"The gains we have received have made my people stronger than you would expect. Among those gains are Yredelemnul's Eye and other leftover remnants of power that many dead ancient Rulers lost when their Existences became forfeit. While their tangible Existences may have perished, their spirits sometimes live on in these broad, unending dead universes..."
"That's why you approached me." Jason says, while crossing his arms and leaning on the ball of his heel. "You said you wanted an alliance with humanity. You... want humans to help you explore the Ancient Domains?"
"Trust is hard to come by among mortals, Cosmics, and Rulers." Calanthra says simply. "I never would have considered allying with the humans before, but you have shown me the broadness of your mind during the debate against your clone and the commander of your military. To some, you certainly appear naive, but to me I see an opportunity I would be foolish to ignore."
She continues. "The Fairies cannot reproduce efficiently. Every fairy we send into the Ancient Domain is one less fairy we have among our Empire. We already have a difficult time replenishing our numbers through the remaining Male Fairies, but do you think it is easy for us to reproduce with other species?"
Jason slowly shakes his head. "Blinker and Kar's children were all crocodiles, not fairies. From that, I can only imagine that most of the time, your mating attempts do not create more of yourselves, but instead more non-fairy children."
"That's exactly correct." Calanthra replies. "But that all changed recently when I found out one of your human males somehow spontaneously altered his genetic profile to become a fairy. There is no doubt about it; Samuel Baker harnesses all the capability to reproduce that you humans do, as well as the trueborn powers of any male fairy."
"So... are you seeking a marriage alliance with Samuel Baker?" Jason asks, scratching his head in confusion. "You could just ask him yourself, you know?"
"This is not about one man." Calanthra retorts. "Samuel Baker, if he were to join our ranks, would certainly help us stave off extinction for a while longer. But that is hardly worth all this melodrama and me taking you to the Ancient Domain in person..."
Jason's eyes widen in realization. "I see! You... you're thinking that if my magic could make one male fairy, I could surely make another, and another..."
"Yes, precisely." Calanthra says, revealing a beautiful smile. "Additionally, if humans were to assist us in scouring these Ancient Domains, we could make great gains together. There is plenty of room for another species to join ours in locating powerful artifacts and other items capable of Uplifting us."
"You want to become Cosmics still." Jason muses. "You haven't resigned yourselves to your current fate."
"Quite the opposite." Calanthra says. "The curse placed upon us is unbreakable by those beneath the realm of Ruler. As I said before, the fairies have lost this Eternity's war. However, while we cannot Ascend any longer, that does not mean the humans are subject to the same limitation. If we could groom a human into becoming the Milky Way's Ruler, we could finally break free of our shackles by virtue of having a powerful ally."
She pauses, looking meaningfully at the Wordsmith.
"If the Demons or the Volgrim were to become our Ruler, we would not enjoy such a benefit. At best, we would only maintain the status quo, and at worst, they might eradicate us out of fear of having an unsightly tumor in their midst."
"Haha." Jason laughs. "So you brought me here to show your sincerity. I get it. Well, I'm definitely not opposed to helping you. Blinker is my good friend. If she were to ask me, I'd definitely say yes to just about any request."
Jason turns away. He walks a few feet off to the side and pauses, standing to gaze out at the Ancient Domain and its endlessly rolling plains which stretches off into the infinite distance...
"Here's what I can do." Jason says. "My people are already working on laying out the options for humanity and where our fellow men and women will depart over the next few weeks. Some will travel to Maiura. Some will go to Sharmur. Some will stay on Tarus II. It's no trouble at all to put Pixiv on the list, especially as I was already planning to do that. I even have some other places I'd like to include, too..."
"Such as Camael's Cube?" Calanthra asks with a smile. "Or do you perhaps mean Chrona and Hope's Hall of Heroes?"
Jason nearly jumps out of his skin. He whirls around to look at Calanthra with shock in his eyes. "What?! How do you know about Chrona? How do you also know about where Hope has been hiding?? I don't even know that much!"
"For those who are talented in magic, it is possible to see through many lies and deceptions." Calanthra says calmly, unfazed by the alarm on Jason's face. "Your Spynet Sphere isn't so different from the many options I have at my disposal. I have many means to keep an eye on the galaxy. And while Diablo does not know exactly where or what Chrona is, he certainly knows of its general existence."
Her smile turns cold. "I would advise you not to take Unarin lightly either, Wordsmith. That ancient creature is more capable than you can imagine. He is hiding a great many secrets from the galaxy... secrets he does not know that I am aware of. If he were to learn of the true extent of my information web, I fear that he would dispatch a handful of High Psions to eliminate the fairy species tomorrow."
Calanthra's words truly rock Jason to his core. All along, he assumed the precautions he put on Chrona, precautions that fooled even Hope, would make his hidden dimension impossible to detect.
But how could he be so naive?
As the daughter of an Apex Cosmic, Calanthra must have her means, and that likely means Unarin and Diablo aren't too far behind either.
"Shit." Jason curses, lowering his head as a flicker of anger smolders in his heart. "I was too complacent. Chrona isn't secure, which means it's only a matter of time before more Cosmics learn of its existence. How long before they can find its exact location and invade it?"
"Calm yourself, child." Calanthra says soothingly. "The situation is not that dire. After all, Chrona still exists within a highly accelerated timespace. Any biological entity that wishes to travel there could suffer severe after-effects. Furthermore, the entities born inside will be too adapted to living within a higher dimension, so they won't pose much threat to the creatures of realspace."
She waves her hand. "Let's move on, Jason. I want to discuss other matters before dying of old age."
The Wordsmith cools himself off. He inhales deeply, then returns his attention to her.
"Alright. What next, then?"
"Fairies are not the only Sentients capable of entering Ancient Domains." Calanthra explains. "There are others who rarely appear inside here. That is why exploring these domains can be dangerous. The good news is that Cosmics have little need to enter these barren lands, as most of the heritages, treasures, and other such gains you might find inside are only useful to mortals. There are exceptions, but they are so rare as to be a needle found within ten million haystacks. A waste of effort better spent simply progressing one's Cosmic power the ordinary way."
"So what you're saying is, when you send fairies into an Ancient Domain, they can die as a result of crossing paths with Sentients from other galaxies." Jason concludes. "But if you had an army of humans to enter with you, your people would be a lot safer."
"Safety in numbers, yes. And you humans are... uniquely advantaged in Ancient Domain exploration." Calanthra says mysteriously. "Before that, though... do you know what the Power of Imagination is, Wordsmith?"
Jason raises an eyebrow. "Imagination? Like the mental ability to visualize stuff in your head? Yeah. It's not that complicated to understand."
"Ah, that's where you're wrong." Calanthra chides gently. "Imagination is the key to magical power. Imagination, Conception, Visualization, these are all key capabilities powerful maguses and sorcerors use to uplift their capabilities! And as it turns out, most Sentients are actually quite terrible at conceptualizing thoughts into imagery."
She gestures grandly. "Just take the Volgrim! You may think they are a powerful Sentient species, but in fact the Volgrim have terrible imaginations. They are stodgy, dull, and lack a great deal of creativity. All the gains their Technopaths make through technology are developed via brute force. They slowly improve their technological prowess by minute fractions over long periods of time, eventually resulting in a large and cohesive buildup."
"At the same time, the Psions Uplift themselves through meditation and sitting motionless for thousands of years at a time. Can a species capable of such incredible feats of drudgery also possess limitless imagination? I think not."
"Maybe the reason they're able to sit still for so long is because they live in their imagination?" Jason posits. "In which case their power of imagination should be quite formidable, right?"
"Possible, but unlikely." Calanthra says with a wave of her hand. "Never mind that. The point I'm trying to make is that humans have an extremely high affinity for magic. If your people were to ally with mine, we could teach you our ways. You could help us through your Wordsmithing and superior genetics, creating more fairies and humans alike. This would create a recursive cycle that would continually bolster both our species to greater and greater heights!"
She lowers her voice back to normal. "An alliance with humanity would have other benefits. You humans are equally adept in technology and magic both. You are versatile, capable of learning any skill provided you have time to devote to your studies. The bursts of inspiration you receive also allow you to make large jumps in capability as well, which could mean that in a relatively short period, you might even be capable of challenging the Volgrim."
Jason nods. "That does sound tempting, Calanthra. I'm willing to help you, but I won't demand my people join the fairies. It would be better if those who were the most interested did so instead."
Calanthra playfully twirls a finger through her hair. "Well. My daughters are all beautiful. Perhaps you should make mention that the fairies are... aggressively interested in copulation?"
"COUGH COUGH!" Jason wheezes, taking a step back as he asses her bold choice of words. "Yeah! Uh, I can probably- I'll let everyone know about that too. Obviously!"
Calanthra chuckles. "Such a cute boy. Well, it seems I've accomplished what I wanted. Let's return for now. You can always pay Ripspace a visit later."
"I will." Jason says, nodding seriously. "Waypoint."
Calanthra raises an eyebrow. "You think you can return here without a Ruler's power?"
"Won't know unless I try." Jason smiles back.
...
Not long after, Jason and Calanthra emerge back into Realspace. He shivers as he feels the Eye of Yredelemnul fixating on him from behind, but Calanthra quickly reactivates the Formation of Light, sending the sliver of a Ruler back to the shadows so it can no longer interact with the physical world.
"You know, Jason." Calanthra says. "You are a Candidate. You have the capability to become a Ruler someday."
"I am?" Jason asks, before thinking back to a conversation in the past. "Oh yeah, someone did mention that to me before. But... eh. I don't know. Becoming a Ruler sounds awful."
"Awful?" Calanthra asks. "How so?"
"It seems... lonely." Jason says, his voice softening. He looks at the space between the four statues, where Yredelemnul's Eye has disappeared. "Imagine all your loved ones dying, but you're stuck behind, living through the end of an Eternity, which takes trillions of years before Heat Death finally eradicates everything. Then comes the next Eternity, where you can remake your species again... but it won't be the same. Even if you remake your loved ones, it won't really be them."
Jason lowers and shakes his head. "That sort of life doesn't suit me."
"I understand why you'd think that way." Calanthra says. "In fact, you are suffering from the same affliction that plagues all Candidates who began their Existences as Biologicals. We have too many ties to the mortal world, so the majority of Biologicals who ascend to the rank of Ruler... fall to their non-biological opponents."
"As for the things which are not biological..." Calanthra says, looking at Jason with disgust. "You should already know what they are."
"Highly evolved Artificial Intelligences?" Jason guesses.
"That's right." Calanthra affirms. "There are several tiers of power a superintelligence can possess. The Volgrim have taken great care to prevent anything above a Beta Core from forming in the Milky Way, but once, a long time ago... they made a huge mess by accidentally creating the Milky Way's first Alpha Core Synthmind."
Calanthra chuckles. "The stupid fools didn't only create an Alpha Core, they gave it autonomy in the hopes it would be able to stop the wars between their factions. They built indestructible bipedal bodies for its splintered intelligences, and called them... Sentinels. Luckily, they were able to defeat the Alpha Core before it ascended further, but countless other biological species have failed at that juncture, creating an Alpha Core that ultimately devoured the full power of their galaxy for itself."
A chill trickles down Jason's spine. "You're saying the vast majority of Rulers are actually Alpha Core AIs? AIs that control entire galaxies?!"
"No, Jason." Calanthra counters. "Alpha Cores can defeat advanced civilizations. But there is one Existence higher than an Alpha Core, a tier that can only be reached once it has swallowed the power of a galaxy."
"That would be an Omega Core. a sentient artificial intelligence that has become Ruler over one or more galaxies. And in Akasha's game, more than 90% of all Rulers are estimated to be these superior lifeforms."
"It is for that reason that these highly adaptable entities are known as The Evolved."

"Hell yeah, I wanna go exploring." Jason says to Calanthra with a smile. "How do we navigate around Ripspace though? Traveling to other galaxies is going to take billions of years, right? Surely, there's a shortcut."
"Ripspace is not as it seems." Calanthra explains, gesturing grandly to the epic sight before them. "It is a connection between the past and the present; the near and far. The further away or the further back you want to travel, the higher the price you will have to pay."
Jason's smile vanishes. "Wait... you can use Ripspace to travel back in time?!"
"No." Calanthra clarifies. "Time is linear. We cannot travel through it. Some can slow it down or speed it up. A rare few can even pause it for a short while. But moving forward and backward is impossible. Countless have attempted to do so over the eons, but all have failed."
She looks at Jason meaningfully. "Many Rulers would wipe out galaxies if it might let them obtain such a power. The fact they still haven't proves it is impossible."
Jason nods slowly. "I won't lie. I have a lot of regrets. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and save my daughter from dying."
"Everyone has regrets." Calanthra muses, looking off into the distance. "I have plenty, myself. But it's better this way. There would be pandemonium if time travel ever became possible."
She pauses before continuing with her explanation. "While we cannot go back in time, we can look back into time. Pinpointing exact moments in history is difficult, to say the least, but it is possible to use Ripspace to search for key moments in intergalactic history."
"So it's like a massive seer-stone." Jason muses aloud. "But wait, didn't you imply earlier that you used Ripspace to travel to the Milky Way from Andromeda? How does it allow you to jump between galaxies? Are other species using Ripspace for intergalactic travel?"
"You can indeed use Ripspace to travel to distant reaches of space." Calanthra explains. "But... you have to pay a certain price. Akasha's Barriers still protect every galaxy. Cosmics cannot travel between them easily. Mortals can, but the price we must pay is unimaginably steep. That is also the reason my mother perished not long after arriving in the Milky Way and giving birth to me."
The Fairy Monarch sighs softly.
"My people used the power of Ripspace to travel to several other galaxies. We were fortunate that the Creator had died, allowing us to take up residence here in secret, but the Angels, Titans, and Dragons were still a threat we could not overlook. Later, the Volgrim rose up too, and that was something that worried us for a while. Particularly when their Sentinels began to rapaciously erase the lives of innumerable Sentients."
She waves her hand. "Ultimately, very few galaxies didn't have a Ruler in power. Traveling to one that did meant flipping a coin and praying our people could avoid their gaze. Sadly, time has shown me that we were likely unsuccessful. I have lost contact with all my sisters across the cosmos."
The image of innumerable galaxies floating in the distance changes before Jason's eyes. Calanthra manipulates some unseen power, causing herself and Jason to suddenly materialize directly in front of a beautiful spiral galaxy.
"This is our Milky Way." Calanthra explains, waving her hand to conjure another, far bigger galaxy beside it. "And this is Andromeda."
"Is it just me or does Andromeda seem... brighter?" Jason asks.
"Andromeda contains far more interstellar particles, cosmic energy, and latent magical power than the Milky Way." Calanthra says. "Of course, in the ancient past, it had even more than it does now, but such is the way of entropy and Chaos."
Jason nods. "How exactly do galaxies lose power over time? Doesn't this feel self-defeating in a way?"
"Every Ruler enters the Unending War with a strategy." Calanthra says, motioning with her hands to disperse the galaxies and reveal images of ghostly creatures, some standing on two legs, some on four, and plenty that appear as mere blobs of energy. "I cannot pretend to know the thoughts of such high and mighty beings, especially as I am a mere mortal myself. Even so, I can definitively state that there are Rulers who seek to put as much galactic energy into their initial creations as possible, while others wish to adopt a more energy-efficient growth-model."
She pokes her finger against Jason's chest. "Take the angels and humans, for instance. The Creator poured the vast majority of his power into creating a galaxy full of Apex Cosmics. At their peak, the angels as a whole commanded enough power to flatten other galaxies. But what did they do instead? They fought with one another, killing themselves due to sheer boredom, if not outright ego."
"I see." Jason says, brushing Calanthra's finger away. "So the Creator dumped all the Milky Way's energy into the angels. I take it this is uncommon among Rulers?"
"Of course. It's a wasteful strategy and usually loses Rulers the War for that Eternity." Calanthra says dismissively. "The Timeless used a different strategy. She created the fairies as mere mortals that evolved over time, gaining greater and greater power through their own efforts. This meant that instead of devouring Andromeda's abundant Cosmic energy, they could slowly sap off its excess over time. For you see, the more energy a galaxy has, the more it can produce. If you ration it long enough, you can reap more of it across the duration of an Eternity."
"That makes sense." Jason concludes. "It's like a Rush build in an RTS versus an Economy build. You sacrifice long-term gains in exchange for short-term power. The problem is, with Akasha's Barriers preventing Rulers from attacking their enemies straight away, a Rush build is dumb because you're just wasting your resources and sacrificing Cosmic energy when you'll actually need it."
Calanthra blinks twice. She looks at Jason with a strange expression, then turns away for a moment, trying to understand the strange terms he's used. They mostly make sense, but some of them are a little...
She shakes her head and returns to the topic at hand. "Right. Rush strategy versus Economy. Of... course. Well, in any case, there is one advantage toward the first strategy. If you drain all the energy from your galaxy, it becomes less appealing for other Rulers to attack. Because Andromeda was so large and still filled with Cosmic power even billions of years after the Expansion Era, it stoked the hunger of the Dark Ones. Meanwhile, the Milky Way only needs to deal with the Plague, which is threatening for mortals, but manageable for Cosmics. In that respect, we've gotten off much luckier."
"I get the bigger picture now." Jason says with a nod. He turns to look back at the cosmos before him. "So, what about all this? Are we gonna go exploring, or what?"
"In order to explore the universe presented here, we would need to make sacrifices we cannot afford. I think you would find the price most disagreeable. But there is something we can explore freely..."
She waves her hand, and instantly, the brilliant and beautiful cosmic view of the universe vanishes.
In its place, Jason and Calanthra suddenly appear inside a dead, barren wasteland. Brown and grey dirt rises up in huge dunes stretching off into the distance. Fallen towers made of gold and stone lay on their sides, or stick into the ground, buried nearly up to their tops as they point diagonally toward the sky.
And speaking of the sky, it glows faintly grey, as if some weak, pale imitation of a star were trying to shine through a thin atmosphere clouded by dust and grime. The very air itself smells of sulfur and toxins, making Jason's nose curl up when he takes a breath.
"Ugh... what the hell? Where are we now?" Jason asks, as he turns and looks around at the dead world surrounding him.
"An Ancient Domain." Calanthra says softly. "A remnant of a dead universe. All life stripped away. All hope lost. Septillions of different Sentient species, gone. Their mortals, their Cosmics, reduced to dust by the Contraction."
The Wordsmith frowns. "This Ancient Domain represents a dead universe? But how can that be possible? If the Heat Death played out and all the galaxies faded to cosmic dust, then there already wouldn't be anything left. And then, if the entire universe collapsed into a singularity before exploding again, there definitely wouldn't be anything left behind resembling physical matter."
"You perceive reality through just three dimensions." Calanthra intones. "Time and space can be considered two dimensions. Cosmic Power is another dimension. I must admit I do not understand how Ancient Domains have continued to exist across countless Eternities, and I don't know how they retain a vaguely familiar form... but I can assure you that in spite of bending logic itself, they do exist and they can provide tangible benefits to those dedicated to exploring them."
"You've been exploring them, then?" Jason asks, turning away from the dead world to scrutinize Calanthra's phantasmal image.
"Me, a little. But often, I dispatch my descendants to scour these Ancient Domains for things of value. It may surprise you, but there are powerful artifacts, vengeful spirits, and all manner of other inter-dimensional horrors lurking within these so-called dead-lands."
Calanthra pauses. She shifts her posture to look at Jason deeply.
"And that is why I've brought you here, Jason. It's time for me to get down to the crux of the matter and breach the subject that I find most important."
He nods. "I'm listening."
"It's like this." Calanthra explains. "The Ancient Domains are unfathomably broad. Think of how large a universe is. Think of how many universes have existed. Think of how much space my people have yet to explore."
She pauses.
"The gains we have received have made my people stronger than you would expect. Among those gains are Yredelemnul's Eye and other leftover remnants of power that many dead ancient Rulers lost when their Existences became forfeit. While their tangible Existences may have perished, their spirits sometimes live on in these broad, unending dead universes..."
"That's why you approached me." Jason says, while crossing his arms and leaning on the ball of his heel. "You said you wanted an alliance with humanity. You... want humans to help you explore the Ancient Domains?"
"Trust is hard to come by among mortals, Cosmics, and Rulers." Calanthra says simply. "I never would have considered allying with the humans before, but you have shown me the broadness of your mind during the debate against your clone and the commander of your military. To some, you certainly appear naive, but to me I see an opportunity I would be foolish to ignore."
She continues. "The Fairies cannot reproduce efficiently. Every fairy we send into the Ancient Domain is one less fairy we have among our Empire. We already have a difficult time replenishing our numbers through the remaining Male Fairies, but do you think it is easy for us to reproduce with other species?"
Jason slowly shakes his head. "Blinker and Kar's children were all crocodiles, not fairies. From that, I can only imagine that most of the time, your mating attempts do not create more of yourselves, but instead more non-fairy children."
"That's exactly correct." Calanthra replies. "But that all changed recently when I found out one of your human males somehow spontaneously altered his genetic profile to become a fairy. There is no doubt about it; Samuel Baker harnesses all the capability to reproduce that you humans do, as well as the trueborn powers of any male fairy."
"So... are you seeking a marriage alliance with Samuel Baker?" Jason asks, scratching his head in confusion. "You could just ask him yourself, you know?"
"This is not about one man." Calanthra retorts. "Samuel Baker, if he were to join our ranks, would certainly help us stave off extinction for a while longer. But that is hardly worth all this melodrama and me taking you to the Ancient Domain in person..."
Jason's eyes widen in realization. "I see! You... you're thinking that if my magic could make one male fairy, I could surely make another, and another..."
"Yes, precisely." Calanthra says, revealing a beautiful smile. "Additionally, if humans were to assist us in scouring these Ancient Domains, we could make great gains together. There is plenty of room for another species to join ours in locating powerful artifacts and other items capable of Uplifting us."
"You want to become Cosmics still." Jason muses. "You haven't resigned yourselves to your current fate."
"Quite the opposite." Calanthra says. "The curse placed upon us is unbreakable by those beneath the realm of Ruler. As I said before, the fairies have lost this Eternity's war. However, while we cannot Ascend any longer, that does not mean the humans are subject to the same limitation. If we could groom a human into becoming the Milky Way's Ruler, we could finally break free of our shackles by virtue of having a powerful ally."
She pauses, looking meaningfully at the Wordsmith.
"If the Demons or the Volgrim were to become our Ruler, we would not enjoy such a benefit. At best, we would only maintain the status quo, and at worst, they might eradicate us out of fear of having an unsightly tumor in their midst."
"Haha." Jason laughs. "So you brought me here to show your sincerity. I get it. Well, I'm definitely not opposed to helping you. Blinker is my good friend. If she were to ask me, I'd definitely say yes to just about any request."
Jason turns away. He walks a few feet off to the side and pauses, standing to gaze out at the Ancient Domain and its endlessly rolling plains which stretches off into the infinite distance...
"Here's what I can do." Jason says. "My people are already working on laying out the options for humanity and where our fellow men and women will depart over the next few weeks. Some will travel to Maiura. Some will go to Sharmur. Some will stay on Tarus II. It's no trouble at all to put Pixiv on the list, especially as I was already planning to do that. I even have some other places I'd like to include, too..."
"Such as Camael's Cube?" Calanthra asks with a smile. "Or do you perhaps mean Chrona and Hope's Hall of Heroes?"
Jason nearly jumps out of his skin. He whirls around to look at Calanthra with shock in his eyes. "What?! How do you know about Chrona? How do you also know about where Hope has been hiding?? I don't even know that much!"
"For those who are talented in magic, it is possible to see through many lies and deceptions." Calanthra says calmly, unfazed by the alarm on Jason's face. "Your Spynet Sphere isn't so different from the many options I have at my disposal. I have many means to keep an eye on the galaxy. And while Diablo does not know exactly where or what Chrona is, he certainly knows of its general existence."
Her smile turns cold. "I would advise you not to take Unarin lightly either, Wordsmith. That ancient creature is more capable than you can imagine. He is hiding a great many secrets from the galaxy... secrets he does not know that I am aware of. If he were to learn of the true extent of my information web, I fear that he would dispatch a handful of High Psions to eliminate the fairy species tomorrow."
Calanthra's words truly rock Jason to his core. All along, he assumed the precautions he put on Chrona, precautions that fooled even Hope, would make his hidden dimension impossible to detect.
But how could he be so naive?
As the daughter of an Apex Cosmic, Calanthra must have her means, and that likely means Unarin and Diablo aren't too far behind either.
"Shit." Jason curses, lowering his head as a flicker of anger smolders in his heart. "I was too complacent. Chrona isn't secure, which means it's only a matter of time before more Cosmics learn of its existence. How long before they can find its exact location and invade it?"
"Calm yourself, child." Calanthra says soothingly. "The situation is not that dire. After all, Chrona still exists within a highly accelerated timespace. Any biological entity that wishes to travel there could suffer severe after-effects. Furthermore, the entities born inside will be too adapted to living within a higher dimension, so they won't pose much threat to the creatures of realspace."
She waves her hand. "Let's move on, Jason. I want to discuss other matters before dying of old age."
The Wordsmith cools himself off. He inhales deeply, then returns his attention to her.
"Alright. What next, then?"
"Fairies are not the only Sentients capable of entering Ancient Domains." Calanthra explains. "There are others who rarely appear inside here. That is why exploring these domains can be dangerous. The good news is that Cosmics have little need to enter these barren lands, as most of the heritages, treasures, and other such gains you might find inside are only useful to mortals. There are exceptions, but they are so rare as to be a needle found within ten million haystacks. A waste of effort better spent simply progressing one's Cosmic power the ordinary way."
"So what you're saying is, when you send fairies into an Ancient Domain, they can die as a result of crossing paths with Sentients from other galaxies." Jason concludes. "But if you had an army of humans to enter with you, your people would be a lot safer."
"Safety in numbers, yes. And you humans are... uniquely advantaged in Ancient Domain exploration." Calanthra says mysteriously. "Before that, though... do you know what the Power of Imagination is, Wordsmith?"
Jason raises an eyebrow. "Imagination? Like the mental ability to visualize stuff in your head? Yeah. It's not that complicated to understand."
"Ah, that's where you're wrong." Calanthra chides gently. "Imagination is the key to magical power. Imagination, Conception, Visualization, these are all key capabilities powerful maguses and sorcerors use to uplift their capabilities! And as it turns out, most Sentients are actually quite terrible at conceptualizing thoughts into imagery."
She gestures grandly. "Just take the Volgrim! You may think they are a powerful Sentient species, but in fact the Volgrim have terrible imaginations. They are stodgy, dull, and lack a great deal of creativity. All the gains their Technopaths make through technology are developed via brute force. They slowly improve their technological prowess by minute fractions over long periods of time, eventually resulting in a large and cohesive buildup."
"At the same time, the Psions Uplift themselves through meditation and sitting motionless for thousands of years at a time. Can a species capable of such incredible feats of drudgery also possess limitless imagination? I think not."
"Maybe the reason they're able to sit still for so long is because they live in their imagination?" Jason posits. "In which case their power of imagination should be quite formidable, right?"
"Possible, but unlikely." Calanthra says with a wave of her hand. "Never mind that. The point I'm trying to make is that humans have an extremely high affinity for magic. If your people were to ally with mine, we could teach you our ways. You could help us through your Wordsmithing and superior genetics, creating more fairies and humans alike. This would create a recursive cycle that would continually bolster both our species to greater and greater heights!"
She lowers her voice back to normal. "An alliance with humanity would have other benefits. You humans are equally adept in technology and magic both. You are versatile, capable of learning any skill provided you have time to devote to your studies. The bursts of inspiration you receive also allow you to make large jumps in capability as well, which could mean that in a relatively short period, you might even be capable of challenging the Volgrim."
Jason nods. "That does sound tempting, Calanthra. I'm willing to help you, but I won't demand my people join the fairies. It would be better if those who were the most interested did so instead."
Calanthra playfully twirls a finger through her hair. "Well. My daughters are all beautiful. Perhaps you should make mention that the fairies are... aggressively interested in copulation?"
"COUGH COUGH!" Jason wheezes, taking a step back as he asses her bold choice of words. "Yeah! Uh, I can probably- I'll let everyone know about that too. Obviously!"
Calanthra chuckles. "Such a cute boy. Well, it seems I've accomplished what I wanted. Let's return for now. You can always pay Ripspace a visit later."
"I will." Jason says, nodding seriously. "Waypoint."
Calanthra raises an eyebrow. "You think you can return here without a Ruler's power?"
"Won't know unless I try." Jason smiles back.
...
Not long after, Jason and Calanthra emerge back into Realspace. He shivers as he feels the Eye of Yredelemnul fixating on him from behind, but Calanthra quickly reactivates the Formation of Light, sending the sliver of a Ruler back to the shadows so it can no longer interact with the physical world.
"You know, Jason." Calanthra says. "You are a Candidate. You have the capability to become a Ruler someday."
"I am?" Jason asks, before thinking back to a conversation in the past. "Oh yeah, someone did mention that to me before. But... eh. I don't know. Becoming a Ruler sounds awful."
"Awful?" Calanthra asks. "How so?"
"It seems... lonely." Jason says, his voice softening. He looks at the space between the four statues, where Yredelemnul's Eye has disappeared. "Imagine all your loved ones dying, but you're stuck behind, living through the end of an Eternity, which takes trillions of years before Heat Death finally eradicates everything. Then comes the next Eternity, where you can remake your species again... but it won't be the same. Even if you remake your loved ones, it won't really be them."
Jason lowers and shakes his head. "That sort of life doesn't suit me."
"I understand why you'd think that way." Calanthra says. "In fact, you are suffering from the same affliction that plagues all Candidates who began their Existences as Biologicals. We have too many ties to the mortal world, so the majority of Biologicals who ascend to the rank of Ruler... fall to their non-biological opponents."
"As for the things which are not biological..." Calanthra says, looking at Jason with disgust. "You should already know what they are."
"Highly evolved Artificial Intelligences?" Jason guesses.
"That's right." Calanthra affirms. "There are several tiers of power a superintelligence can possess. The Volgrim have taken great care to prevent anything above a Beta Core from forming in the Milky Way, but once, a long time ago... they made a huge mess by accidentally creating the Milky Way's first Alpha Core Synthmind."
Calanthra chuckles. "The stupid fools didn't only create an Alpha Core, they gave it autonomy in the hopes it would be able to stop the wars between their factions. They built indestructible bipedal bodies for its splintered intelligences, and called them... Sentinels. Luckily, they were able to defeat the Alpha Core before it ascended further, but countless other biological species have failed at that juncture, creating an Alpha Core that ultimately devoured the full power of their galaxy for itself."
A chill trickles down Jason's spine. "You're saying the vast majority of Rulers are actually Alpha Core AIs? AIs that control entire galaxies?!"
"No, Jason." Calanthra counters. "Alpha Cores can defeat advanced civilizations. But there is one Existence higher than an Alpha Core, a tier that can only be reached once it has swallowed the power of a galaxy."
"That would be an Omega Core. a sentient artificial intelligence that has become Ruler over one or more galaxies. And in Akasha's game, more than 90% of all Rulers are estimated to be these superior lifeforms."
"It is for that reason that these highly adaptable entities are known as The Evolved."

No one yet knew how long we lived, but still did they prepare me for a life-long journey. Cheeses and fruits fresh-picked did Our Mother gather to sustain me, and Our Father stowed in woven sacks grain to keep my strength, heaving and strapping barley on our beast's broad back. I looked outwards at the sun setting in its westerly nape, weak in th'numbness of heavy sentence new-laid, when a force struck at my thighs and grasped around my waist. My stomach was in th'dirt, my mouth fined with dust. Above me I saw looming our first father, rock in ready hand, pinning me to th'ground as he raised up his arm to Heaven in twisted invocation, something sick and wicked crinkling in his eyes. Waiting for tight- held stone to shatter my brow, the seconds stretched as centuries, but death stood still. Looking up, the stone and arm that held it sat limp on Adam’s knee as he rose with heavy breath. He reached down his hand, as though to help me rise up to my feet. I held doubts.
"I won't kill you, boy,"
he softly said. after a moment, I took his hand and he then hoisted me upwards. As he spoke he started dusting blotches of earth from my robe.
"No, I won't kill you. It's not a father's place to inherit from the son. I'll let you wander. Let the world do its bloody office. Pity your brother, that he bleeds the fields. Pity your mother, that she mourns two sons,"
his gaze finally meeting mine,
"the better one and you. Don't pity me. As man you bear my shape and name, but you're no son of mine."
His piece then said, he went toward where worm-food Abel lay interred. Ever watchful was Eve. A look half-mad lingered about her eyes as she stood in grief-mute stupor. Maybe by Abel's blood was she made deaf. No matter. I grabbed the halter, starting on my lonesome, weary way. Cresting the hill that would forever stand as sentry between me and home, I couldn't help but look back. There were th'fields from youth I'd tilled. I saw the altar where we made offerings to th'Potter, th'olive tree I had watered with brother's blood. In the midst of it all I saw Our Mother, still where I left her, looking at me. I waved meekly, my arm meeting my side almost as soon as I raised it. She was unmoved. With wavering breath, I turned toward my portion. East had He bid me. East would I then go.

I had an idea a few weeks ago for a poem about Cain after he kills Abel, so that's what this is. I'm a four books into what I think is going to be a five book piece. Just wanted to gauge folk's interest, and would definitely appreciate any constructive criticism. Thanks in advance for reading this monstrosity.
https://www.reddit.com/OCPoetry/comments/1cv3ihc/comment/l4n8uh8/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
https://www.reddit.com/OCPoetry/comments/1cupdbh/comment/l4neah7/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

Hey guys, I know this is a long shot but I saw an Instagram reel today with a woman reciting a poem about motherhood. The theme was "I carry your weight."
At first inside her belly,
Then rocking in her arms,
Then cuddling beside her,
Then carrying the weight by throwing in the air,
Then when she could no longer carry the weight of her child, she said she holds the weight in her heart.
Obviously she did a much better job than me but you get the gist. I can't find it anywhere and I would really like to know who wrote it and the name. It was so beautiful that it made me cry.
Thank you for any help!

Blake was listening to his sister through his headphones while she ripped into him about his hopeless addiction to pornography. He rolled his eyes as she went on and on about his sexist attitudes and his distorted views on women and sex. If his sister had only known that he was scrolling through explicitly drawn versions of Marge Simpson and Lois Griffin in various poses with various props, she would have hung up the phone and given up.
As far as Blake was concerned there were no distortions in his mind about women. He had lived through so many interactions and had seen so many videos of women being terrible people that it only reinforced his bias.
Porn didn’t judge Blake. Porn didn’t make Blake do things that he didn’t want to do. He spent time with women the way he wanted to. If he wanted a woman to act a certain way, he could find a video where she did just that.
The way he saw it, women wanted a lot, and if they didn’t get what they wanted, they made everyone’s life hell until they did. Conversely, if a man wanted something, it was tough luck. He watched his mother treat his father like that until the day he died, overworked and unhappy.
Less than a year after his mother put his father in the ground, she was with someone else that she was all too happy to control. Porn gave Blake the control, and he liked it.
“Blake, I love you, but you’re going to waste your whole life in front of a screen holding your dick.”
“Don’t you have another kid that you should be working on squirting out?”
She hung up.

Blake was caught watching videos at work again, but this time he had a plan. He knew eventually that he would be caught, but after losing three jobs for the very same reason, he hatched a simple way of ensuring that he wouldn’t lose out on any money, and be able to stick it to the boss and company he hated for no other reason than employing him.
Blake was called into his manager’s office, but before anything could be said, Blake blurted out that he needed to take mental leave. He sobbed in front of his manager while he said that the job was giving him thoughts of hopelessness and self harm, but he was smiling on the inside. He was talking just loud enough for a few people outside of the office to hear him.
His manager's face was red.
“Cornered you, bitch.” Blake thought to himself. “Good luck firing someone who’s crying out for mental help.”
Blake figured that he’d be able to stretch this out for at least a month. A month of paid time off doing what he loved.

“It’s my phone!” he muttered to himself as he rode the elevator down to his new found freedom. “If people have a problem with the things I’m looking at, perhaps they shouldn’t be looking over my shoulder and mind their own fucking business.”
He didn’t mind the other people in the elevator, or their awkward expressions. They didn’t matter to him. No one really did.

Still on a high from manipulating his boss into a corner, Blake decided to do something new on the bus ride to his apartment building. He clicked on a video. He wasn’t exactly watching the video, rather he was watching people’s reactions out of the corners of his eyes.
He kept the volume low, but up just enough so the moaning could be heard.
At first, people around him were wondering if they were actually hearing what they thought they were hearing.
He was trying not to laugh at their reactions. People began to move to other seats, and soon enough, everyone was giving him disgusted looks.
“Fuck em.” he whispered.
He noticed one man sitting in the back of the bus who was giving him quite a different look than everyone else. The man was well dressed. Perfect hair. Perfect teeth.
He was smiling at Blake.
Blake, a self admitted and overly enthusiastic homophobe, turned off the video. He began to worry that he had attracted the wrong kind of attention.

Blake was all too eager to get out of the bus and hurry towards the doors to his building. He heard a voice behind him that caused him to catch a breath and lose his forward progress. He turned around. It was the beautiful man from the back of the bus.
“Excuse me! I’d like to have a word!”
Blake found his voice hypnotic, and his stride was elegant, almost like he was floating just above the cracked and cruddy sidewalk.
“I uh… couldn’t help but notice what you were doing on the bus young man. I think I have something you might be interested in.”
Blake was lost in that voice. He had never been attracted to another man, but he was feeling things inside himself that he’d never felt before, and he hated himself for it. After a long awkward silence, Blake finally found his voice.
“Look buddy, take your pixy dust and bother someone else. You’re not my type.”
“Oh, you’re definitely my type.” The beautiful man laughed and handed him a plain white business card with nothing but a web address on it. “In so many different ways, you’re exactly my type.”
“What is this?”
“It’s my business, Kid. You want videos you can’t tear yourself away from? Trust me. It’s the newest thing.”
He winked at Blake and walked away.
-
Blake was staring at his screen while he was riding in the elevator. There was a paywall. A dollar for the first month, then a hundred dollars a month after that.
No screenshots or thumbnails, just a form for a credit card. As the doors opened to his floor, he put his phone in his pocket and decided against any further investigation. He was sure that it was a scam of some kind.

Until ten o’clock that night, Blake engaged in his normal activities with one new addition he had begun almost two weeks prior. He built two shelves in front of two different air vents in his apartment, and he had placed speakers on the shelves. The tenants in his building got to experience all of the auditory pleasures of the thrusting and jiggling and smacking that he was watching.
Blake made sure he followed the rules, and nothing came out of those speakers after ten p.m., but it was fair game until that time.
He would laugh to himself thinking about the tenants having to listen. He wasn’t sure how far the sound traveled through the vents, but he figured that most people on his floor were getting a good chunk of it.
That night though, his usual joyful time in front of his phone, his 70 inch television, and his newly discovered fondness for Cerave was marred by the thought of something unique and dangerous out there that he hadn’t seen.
After several attempts at a satisfactory denouement in his masturbatory madness, Blake finally gave up, raised the white flag on its limp post, and went to bed.

Blake kept hearing the man’s siren-like voice in his head while he tried to sleep. After almost two hours of tossing and turning, he sat up and snatched his phone from the charger and typed his credit card information into the mysterious site. He just had to know.
The site opened up and he was instantly intrigued. There were no thumbnails on any of the videos, but the descriptions on each of them were so graphic, profane, and dehumanizing that it would do us all a great service if they were not repeated here. Blake’s favorite appendage however, jumped to a zealous attention at the graphic depictions that the perverse descriptions painted within his brain.
Blake stripped off his briefs and sat down on the edge of his bed. His left hand gripped the phone while his right hand eagerly gripped something else.
He clicked on the first video and it began to load.
Blake waited.
And waited.
And waited.
The video wasn’t loading, so Blake decided to try another one, only to find that his left thumb wouldn’t move. He realized that his entire body was stiff. Nothing would move with the exception of his eyes. He couldn’t even speak.
All he could do was stare at the glowing screen in the darkness of his apartment.
After a moment, his mind started to race while his body remained ridiculously rigid.

Three hours had passed. Blake had been able to see every minute tick by. He had watched his battery meter slowly run down to eighty percent. He had thought that his screen would eventually turn off, but it never did. It was still trying to load the video.
Something was tickling his nose and his face itched. His back had begun to ache and he felt some tiny pin pricks along his still turgid tool. He wanted to cry, but nothing would come. In fact, his eyes had begun to dry because he had not been able to blink.
Blake watched another hour go by before his body finally succumbed to exhaustion and fell into a deep sleep, in spite of the fact that he could not close his eyes.

He awoke six hours later and his vision was partially obscured. Still holding his phone and his phallus, Blake tried to scream. The sun was now coming through the window of his apartment. He could see his reflection in the mirror that was on the opposite wall. His hair was long, and it was white. A spotty and wiry beard had exploded out of his face and it hung down to just above his enlarged and sagging nipples set in a sagging and flabby chest.
His breaths were shorty and ragged; phlegm was gurgling with each inspiration.
His arms and legs were covered in large liver spots and all of his skin was a purple paper thin.
He was old.
The shock of seeing his hunched and rigid reflection had staved off the feeling of pain from his nether regions for only a moment. His fingernails were growing on his hands. Some of the yellow things were curling around his phone while the others were curling and jabbing into what now looked like a deflated balloon stretched too thin, that was desperately trying to retreat into his abdomen against his rigid grip.
The battery on his phone was blinking.
It was about to die. He wondered what happened when the battery ran out, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew exactly what would happen when that loading screen finally went dark.
His sister’s words were all he could think about as the screen and the world went dark.

After several nights of peace, Blake’s neighbors noticed an awful smell emanating from the air vents. After several complaints, the building’s Super opened Blake’s apartment and found the withered, still rigid frame of a dead old man sitting upright on the edge of the bed.
After taking several photos that he would post later on social media and stealthily absconding with almost a full bottle of Cerave, the Super called the authorities.

Tissue
Polysemous title- Tissue • Tissue- paper + skin (human life is fragile [criticises arrogance, encourages us to protect]) • Also paper (not alive) + skin (alive)- criticises monotony of life, not really living • Tissue paper- found in bibles and holy texts, but fragile (overinflated importance of identity causing wars and discrimination, really it’s very fragile and identity isn’t real, we’re all just people (tissue as in skin)) • Tissue- used to wipe away tears, togetherness can reduce suffering • Tissue- medical term for deep skin- poem shows deeper nature of humans and our potential for goodness, can be wounded and damaged by outside influences but can always heal
"Paper that lets the light shine through, this is what could alter things" - reference to religious texts paper, light as Jesus and Allah (power of religion) - or coexistence with nature (Dharker is a Muslim Calvinist)
Enjambment- freedom, lack of control of humans, rejecting constraints
Free verse- same thing
"Let the daylight break through capitals and monoliths" - power of nature, criticism of authority, weakness of humans- “break” violent personification, destroying authority, daylight + break = sunrise + hope
"The sun shines through their borderlines" - nature overcomes human segregation identity, criticism of war, power of nature) sibilance shows power, “their” still shows separation, criticise that
"fly our lives like paper kites" - childish metaphor, mocking control of money over life (criticism of authority)
"the back of the Koran" - “the” repetition shows importance, “back” shows it is hidden/shunned by society, still holding onto identity
"Transparent" - repetition, criticism of dishonesty of authority
Exposure
"Merciless iced east winds that knive us" - personification of wind shanking people (first line not about war but nature- more significant) (power of nature)- subtle sibilance (just as dangerous as bullets but most people don’t realise)- Germans were in the east, but the only thing from there is wind
ABBAC rhyme, structure is built only to be taken down (tension of soldiers expecting fight but let down)
Pararhyme- unsatisfying for reader, reflects how the soldiers are always nervous but never get to chill
“What are we doing here?” Rhetorical question to criticise authority, or actual question to show PTSD confusion, can be asking what they are DOING or why they are HERE
"For love of God seems dying" ok 1. The soldier's love of God is dying 2. God's love for the soldiers is dying 3. To show love of God, you should die
"forgotten dreams" - juxtaposition, loss of hope, forgotten dreams on purpose to be less sad? war made them forget? “forgotten” disassociated from PTSD, “dreams” as happiness from the past that seems unreal
“a dull rumour of some other war" reference to the Bible and Armageddon, metaphorical end of the world for the soldiers be suffering "sudden successive flights of bullets streak the silence" - sibilance represents sound of bullets, jolting reader out of relative lack of noises, feel like soldiers
Epistrophe "but nothing happens" cyclical structure, stuck in suffering
“we” “us” “our” collective pronouns, shared experience, comradeship, loss of identity, relatable to all soldiers
Kamikaze
Title- single word, only military rank- only seen as a kamikaze pilot by others
Structure- 6 lines per stanza but free verse and lots of enjambment- conflict between control and freedom (military/social expectations/duty vs love for family/nature/memories/life)
Constant shifts between first person and third person- disconnect from family due to shame
“Her father embarked at sunrise” -sunrise as power of nature + Japan’s military flag- conflict
“a shaven head full of powerful incantations” -incantations are deliberately vague- orders from military? prayers? inner conscience against it? It’s “powerful” tho and influences him, and it’s “full” showing his distress, shaved head like most kamikaze pilots
“green-blue translucent sea” beautiful imagery, “translucent” shows how things are unclear but getting clearer- nature helps him decide what to do
Describes fishes “like a huge flag”- patriotic semantic field shows brainwashing, but reduces as the poem goes on, simile shows how he is starting to disconnect and change his mind,
also as “a figure of eight”- shows thoughts of pride and prosperity-
“The dark shoals of fishes/flashing silver as their bellies/swivelled towards the sun” - • sibilance shows ocean noises and beauty, “dark” -> “flashing silver” things get brighter and easier to see- knows what to do thanks to nature • “Silver”- medals he would have gotten for being a kamikaze pilot, but true reward is in nature • “Sun”- represents beauty of nature and also Japanese flag- conflict but now there’s also nature in the mix • Belly up- death on his mind
“bringing their father’s home safe/-yes, grandfather’s boat- safe” repetition of “safe” shows reason to come back- wants to return to family, memories
“a tuna, the dark prince, muscular, dangerous.” • first mention of danger = power in the whole poem, danger to the mission as it causes the pilot to have doubts, true power is in nature and memory • First full stop in the poem and lots of commas- makes us stop and think like the pilot about what he’s abt to do
“laughed” “loved” at the end of the poem- all in past tense- nothing left for the soldier
“we too learned to be silent”- “learned” should be positive but contrasts with what they learnt- criticises how they were taught shame by the older generations- but it’s said in first person, the daughter is criticising this and teaching her children not to think that way
Poppies
Title- honours and grieves dead soldiers, short single word title shows full intent of the poem and how the mother’s life is consumed by grief
Dramatic monologue- emphasis on the domestic impact and how the soldier isn’t present in the poem
Free verse, enjambment- chaotic, lack of control over the son, distressed
Domestic + military semantic fields- life has been ruined by war
“Spasms of paper red, disrupting a blockade of yellow bias”- mix between war + domestic • “spasms” and “red” is injury and pain- mother is worried or is hurt by letting go (spasms is involuntary muscle action- involuntary letting go), • “paper” is the fragility of the son • “blockade” is military language showing her worry abt the conflict, how she wants to “block” her son from going into the military • “disrupting” the fabric - the son becoming a soldier disrupts the peace or she is trying to disrupt him from going to war
“The dove pulled freely against the sky, / an ornamental stitch”- dove represents peace and grief- she and her son is at peace with death, “pulled freely” is an oxymoron- inner conflict with grief or letting her son go, the comma shows a pause to reflect on the grief, the “ornamental stitch” metaphor for the mother (pretends to hold it together)
“I was brave”- takes down ideas of just the soldier’s bravery but also the mother’s, but past tense shows current weakness from grief
“Sellotape bandaged around my hand” • Bandage shows wounds • Sticks them together one last time- cat hairs are removed, no more reason to stay • Claustrophobic feeling- stuck in the domestic role, can’t go and protect the son
“Blackthorns of your hair”- religious connotations of Jesus on the cross, sacrificed for the country- metaphor for the son
History Boys
"Enemy of education" war metaphor and alliteration, opposition between true understanding of literature and grades only used shallowly “Cheat’s Visa”
"a fact of life" indisputable and unchangable, in opposition with Irwin's views on history (truth does not matter to him until now?)
Drummer Hodge: Intertextuality, Tom Hardy (the poet) represents Hector, sympathising with the ordeal of the youth, Drummer Hodge represents the Boys, thrown into the chaos of life without proper guidance
"She's my western front" war metaphor objectifies Fiona, personal pronoun further expresses how women were seen as objects to be owned
“... all the other shrunken violets you people line up" [you people] segregates gay people, [shrunken violets] derogatory language
"Some of the literature says it will pass" looking to literature for solace and comfort during a sexuality crisis
"All literature is consolation" Dakin changes his mind on literature symbolising him changing to Irwin's side. No need to look for solace in literature when he can pursue Irwin
Parallels with "all knowledge is precious" from Hector - A.E. Housman, one of the first intertextualities and used in the intro to establish his character
“cunt-struck” “a cunt”- Mrs Lintott repeats the colloquialism “cunt” twice, to describe Dakin as “cunt-struck” and Headmaster as “a cunt”. This is the hardest swear in the play and is used show that it wasn’t a slip of the tongue, and to break down stereotypes of women being gentle and passive
“history is women following behind with the bucket” - her big scene about women in history at the end of the play (which is typical for Alan Benett’s plays such as “Kafka’s Dick”) so it would be recent and stay in the audience’s mind when the show ended
Irwin intro as politician in the future "etc., etc." while talking abt freedom- that man gives no fucks about freedom really, just waffling on (first impression for the audience too!!)
Parallel with Holocaust debate- Lockwood uses the SAME EXACT PHRASE while talking abt how the holocaust was bad, (dismissiveness of mass genocide? in this education system? it’s more likely than you think) then goes on to argue that they should be unique with their arguments- Irwin passed on thr mindset even on such an important subject
Hector is set up to be looking cool and all (motorcycle scene dramaticness, greek name connotations, fav teacher) but is absolutely uncool when we get to know him- purposeful? "studied eccentricity" and all. clinging onto youth?
Posner is actually rather helpful as the "dictionary person" bc i doubt the audiences know what "otiose" means
SCRIPPS IS THE MOST RELIGIOUS ONE AND CLOSEST TO POSNER it can dismantle the idea that religion is against queerness
Irwin didnt know how nietzche was pronounced bc from what we know of him he would call Dakin out on that

So I've been into these systems for three years now, but I've recently come to doubt my whole typology. I'm not going to say what I've been typed as before though, because I'd like to avoid bias.
It'd be cool if you tried to type me in other systems as well, such as Enneagram, Socionics, Psychosophy/Attitudinal Psyche, Big 5, Temperaments, Jungian...

1. I'm a very closed off person who needs a lot of time to recharge since people wear me out, but I've been told I come across as a highly energetic, hardworking and overall as an inspiring and determined person. For instance, I always strive for the best, even if that means sacrificing my comfort (like going to one of the best universities in my country even if it's like over 100 km from home and I have to wake up at 5 AM everyday), and I'm always passionate about pursuing something to improve myself, because I'd hate to feel like I'm wasting time lazing around.
   
2. People see me as someone responsible to rely on, they have told me I'm a good listener and understand them well, I give honest advice while also taking into consideration their feelings and reactions (I don't want to come across as offensive and insensitive), and in general I like giving a good impression. I mean, I can't stand fake people, but I still feel it's important to portray yourself in a good light. I think you must treat others the same way you'd like to be treated, that is, with respect (but, of course, if they cross me, I'll act spiteful towards them, since that's what they deserve).
   
3. Despite trying to be reasonable at all times and doing my best not to come across as overly emotional, I'm very anxious and tend to catastrophize, so while it's not usual, when it happens, my outbursts are strong. Then, I feel like trash after it all happens, since I perceive it as me having made a fool of myself. My feelings tend to escalate quickly, and sometimes due to something that it's not THAT important, so it's helpful to have someone slow me down and help me see the big picture. I can also be too straightforward as well, to the point that I sometimes end up being reckless. For example, there has been multiple times where I suddenly felt the urge to insult someone because they did something that offended me; in those cases I fortunately had a friend to shut me up and distract me from it because they know I might not be able to wait until they're out of sight to complain about them.
   
4. While at a distance I might seem intimidating and stern, people close to me see me as innerly soft, sensitive and pretty much a romantic prone to sentimentality. I've always had a hard time with processing emotions, because since I was a kid I've been taught "emotions are for the weak", so I tried to repress them. It wasn't until I discovered my passion for poetry that I finally learned to come into contact with them and understand them without shame. Currently, I feel like I have an easier time expressing myself and I'm not as repelled of my own feelings like I was in the past... Many people have actually told me, to my surprise, that my face is amusingly expressive, like I'm transparent even if I try my best to hide myself from the world. That said, I communicate my feelings through poems, so while I'd like the other person to take the initiative in this regard, I'll try to reciprocate it my way.
   
5. However, I can also be quite passive and insecure when I feel oppressed and vulnerable in my environment (I feel like the whole world is against me in such circumstances), so I tend to walk on eggshells most of the time just in case. I'd say I'm mostly awkward, and I never know how to interact with my surroundings properly. If I've done it well, it's likely that I've just been lucky. This has led me to be isolated most of my life, and despite the fact that I currently have some connections with people, I feel like it's still not enough. I'm very private, secretive, and harbour trust issues; but I also crave intense connection with people I've taken a liking to (after a long time assessing if they're trustful enough for me to grow attached to them, since I place a lot of value on loyalty and suffer a lot when those close to me suddenly disappear from my life). I'm really compassionate with others, so some people have taken advantage of my kindness to then stab me in the back when I least expected it, which has made me become outwardly distant and unapproachable through the years (when the truth is that I'm just terrified of people). I've always had this impulse to help and protect those in need when they couldn't stand up for themselves, so it's curious how much compassion I could feel for others when I couldn't feel it for myself. Anyway, I still hold those around me to high standards, which I apply to myself as well.
   
6. On the other hand, I place a lot of value to my appearance too. Like poetry, my own style is a way to express who I am as a person, and I can't understand nor find myself attracted to people who don't care at all regarding this part of themselves... It's as if they're neglecting one of the most important ways to make themselves appealing to both themselves and others. For me, it's also a way to feel better about myself, since the attractiveness and health of the body is just as important as that of the mind.
   
7. Now, I suck at everything related to numbers or economics. They're so boring and uninteresting to me that my brain shuts down when something related to it comes up (I already suffer enough in law school whenever I'm forced to do subjects involving financial law or the like). I've always been more drawn to humanitarian subjects like languages, literature...
   
8. I'm highly impatient (I get easily frustrated when something doesn't go my way like "it's supposed to", and I can grow envious and resentful towards someone that did it better than me), irritable (I'm peaceful until something or someone crosses me), and pessimistic (if something remotely bad happens, then that means it's all doomed to fail). I can be intolerant as well, easily despising someone others might be indifferent to, and I've been told to be impulsive too when I fail to guard myself from what makes me react aggressively either to others or myself. In addition, I cannot deal with people that are too aloof to descifer, like it's obvious they're keeping something from me, but they will lie and tell me "it's okay" while it's obvious that it's not, and their facial expressions are so dull that I won't even be able to extract the minimum out of them. In such circumstances I might flare up to try to get them out of their shell in order to know whatever they're hiding away from me; but that typically ends up driving them away from me further (which pisses me off to no end). I like straightforward people who are not cowards and will make things clear from the beginning, even if it hurts.
   
9. Regarding my mannerisms, they're mostly stiff, instead of smooth or soft. As I said, I come across as energetic even if I slept 4 hours that day, I walk and talk VERY quickly (people who speak and move slowly get on my nerves), and I can be very expressive and loud if I'm feeling comfortable enough with the person I'm with (I can even look extroverted next to my quieter friends). I also don't have any shame at all when it comes to myself; I can talk about anything weird or rant about my nerdy interests and creepy fixations to the point of becoming obnoxious without giving a damn about the reaction of the other person. I may even enjoy making the other person embarrassed and teasing them, since it's hilarious. Fortunately, I'm good at eliciting interest in others, so oftentimes I can drag them into the abyss of my obsessions and teach them all about it.
   
10. Aside from poetry, my other interests are varied. For instance, I also love reading old books, writing stories, creating original characters and researching whichever area of interest I'm into at the moment. I like to maintain an active lifestyle too. In the future, I strive to become financially successful (that's why I'm in a career that is going to bring me a lot of opportunities), independent, and travel and learn as much as I can to improve both myself and my talents. I'm overall a very individualistic person, but I'd like to meet more people who align with my values as well; without at least someone by my side with whom I can share myself I become depressed.
    

I'd appreciate it if someone is willing to try to type me via chat too, if that's more comfortable for you.

How do the poets present the effects of conflict in Poppies and one other poem?

In this essay, I am going to explore how Jane Weir presents conflict as affecting someone not directly involved in war by analysing how Weir presents the mother of a young soldier feeling during a war. I will contrast this by discussing how Simon Armitage presents someone directly involved in the Iraq War (Guardsman Tromans) as being mentally scarred by his involvement. I will mainly focus on how war effects people emotionally / mentally, whilst also exploring how Armitage presents the physical effects of conflict in Remains. Additonally, i will consider how the idea of propaganda during wartime affects how people feel about the conflict.
In Poppies, Weir decided to make the poem be through the lens of a mother. The name of the mother or son is never given, rather she utilises vague pronouns such as “You” to describe the son, perhaps this was deliberate as to make the poem reflect a universal experience, which may highlight how many people conflict can effect, therefore presenting conflict as having a major effect, not just on the people fighting it, but everyone. Also, “Armistice Sunday” is a combination of Armistice Day and Rememberance Sunday, perhaps Weir has left the war being remembered ambiguous, as to increase the number of people who share this experience, yet again foregrounding the sheer number of people who have felt this way. It creates the impression that Weir has made this poem to act as a microcosm for the shared experience of every mother with a young son going to war, therefore reflecting the sadness and fear those not fighting in the war feel, raising the awareness of this issue to those who hadn’t considered it as a result. In contrast Armitage created Remains to highlight the experience and effect of conflict on only one person – Guardsman Tromans. Remains juxtaposes Poppies, since Remains cannot really be seen as an attempt by Armitage to reflect a common experience from war. This is because the poem can literally be viewed as a first hand account from Tromans himself. This may be indicated by the fact that Armitage has made the poem have an unreliable narrator, which can be interpreted as Tromans himself trying to distance himself from the “looter” that he killed, as if it will alleviate him from the guilt and psychological effects of the killing. This is seen at the start of the poem where the looter is described as being “Probably armed, possibly not.”. Here, two adverbs “Probably...possibly” are utilised in short succession to foreground how Tromans is trying to make himself believe that the looter was a danger to him, which would give him a reason to kill the looter, however, the comma acting as a hesitation and “Possibly not” suggests Tromans believes the looter couldn’t hurt them. When coupled with the fact that Tromans is so clearly emotionally disturbed by this moment, one can interpret that the man was not armed, perhaps being the reason for Tromans guilt.
Also, in the first half of Remains Armitage presents the physical effects of conflict by describing the brutal murder of the looter. He creates a semantic field of agony and suffering which contrasts the playful imagery created before “Tackle some looters...”. As a result the death of the looter is foregrounded via the juxtaposition, as it would have made the reader shocked. Also, the verb “Tackle” suggests that Tromans before the murder may have not viewed war that seriously, perhaps indicating he has been so greatly disturbed by the murder as it made him realise the war was real. It also gives connotations to the WWI propaganda poet Jessie Pope, who convinced many young men that war was “a game”. The idea of propaganda affecting people during conflict is explored in Poppies too. In the first two stanzas it is unclear whether the mother is sending a child of to school, or a young man to war. This may suggest how the mother was affected by propaganda, since she is not immediately frightened by her son going to war. Additionally, the son is described as being “Intoxicated” when the world is presented to him. This verb may suggest the young man as being almost drunk on excitement, like he himself believes that the war will be a fun game, rather than a horror. Whilst it may seem the mother also believes the war may be a “game”, Weir utilises biblical imagery through the hair of the boy being described as “gelled blackthorns”. “Blackthorns” may allude to the crown of thorns Jesus wore during his crucifixion. As a result, it could be inferred that the Mother thinks her son is being sent to war as a sacrificial lamb, undergoing great pain to ultimately assist in salvation (ending the war).
As discussed earlier, Armitage creates a semantic field of agony through the way he describes the looter’s death in Remains. An example of how this is achieved is through the declarative metaphor “I swear, I see broard daylight on the other side”. “I swear” suggests that Tromans wholeheartedly knows the severity of the murder. This further suggests just how significant the mental effects of the war have been on Tromans, as he has replayed this scene so many times he is fully sure this happened. “Broard daylight” is visceral imagery created by Armitage, suggesting the man was shot so many times there is a hole big enough to see daylight on the other side. This is coupled with the euphemism “Sort of inside out”, this almost suggests that the looter was in such a bad state that Tromans cannot even bring himself to describe the image, or that his vocabulary is this limited, which foregrounds how this experience is uniquely his, as the narrative voice reflects Tromans own. By using these techniques, Armitage presents the physical effects of war as being strong enough not just to kill someone, but to completely destroy the body itself.
Finally, both of the poets highlight how the effects of war are long-lasting on those affected. In Remains, Tromans’ PTSD is shown in the second half of the poem. This is after the volta “And then I’m on leave”, Armitage suddenly includes a volta after the description of the murder to show Tromans’ poor psyche due to his PTSD. Whilst in the first half, Tromans clearly recounts his experience with high detail, the second half shifts in topic and location suddenly, suggesting that Tromans is entering and exiting the world, perhaps the “drink and drugs” he is self medicating with are causing him to lose large track of time. But i think Armitage does this to show how Tromans’ PTSD occurs so often and suddenly. It also explains how Tromans is able to recount his experience in Iraq so clearly. As he has replayed the moment so many times, showing how conflict affects people long after the fact. Similarly, in Poppies the mother hopes to hear her son’s “Playground voice”. This suggests the mother wanting to remember her son as a child, we can interpret he is dead as she is at the “war memorial”. By doing this, Weir creates the impression that the Mother has, and never will have closure regarding her son’s death, as she wants to hear him one more time. We can infer his death was a result of war, therefore showing how war effects people after it has ended, since people are still grieving for those who died in the process.
In conclusion, both Weir and Armitage present war as having long-lasting powerful effects, both emotionally and physically in Armitage’s case. They present how war has wide-reaching effects, as well as arguably stronger effects on individuals directly involved in conflict. The theme of propaganda stemming from conflict affecting people is also suggested in both poems.

“Leaving is not enough. You must stay gone. Train your heart like a dog. Change the locks, even on the house he's never visited.
You lucky, lucky girl. You have an apartment just your size. A bathtub full of tea. A heart the size of Arizona—but not nearly so arid.
Don't wish away your cracked past, your crooked toes. Your problems are papier mache puppets you made or bought because the vendor at the market was so compelling you just had to have them.
You had to have him. And you did. And now you pull down the bridge between your houses, you make him call before he visits, you take a lover for granted, you take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are magic.
Make the first bottle you consume in this place a relic. Place it on whatever altar you fashion with a knife and five cranberries.
Don't lose too much weight. Stupid girls are always trying to disappear as revenge. And you are not stupid.
You loved a man with more hands than a parade of beggars, and here you stand. Heart like a four-poster bed. Heart like a canvas. Heart leaking something so strong they can smell it in the street.”
from “Frida Kahlo to Marty McConnell” by poet Marty McConnell
I came across this powerful poem and it deeply resonated with me. I wanted to share it here because I believe it encapsulates the journey many of us are on, navigating the complex dynamics of relationships with ex-partners who have BPD.
"Leaving is not enough. You must stay gone. Train your heart like a dog. Change the locks, even on the house he's never visited."
These lines are a clear reminder that stepping away from a damaging relationship is only the first step. The real challenge lies in staying away and protecting your heart from being pulled back into a cycle that might be harmful. It talks about creating a safe space, even if it means metaphorically changing the locks in your life.
"You lucky, lucky girl. You have an apartment just your size. A bathtub full of tea. A heart the size of Arizona—but not nearly so arid."
This passage celebrates the new life you've crafted for yourself. It's a testament to the strength and resilience you possess. Despite the vastness of the love you can give, it's crucial to ensure that this love is directed towards mending and enriching yourself.
"Don't wish away your cracked past, your crooked toes. Your problems are papier mache puppets you made or bought because the vendor at the market was so compelling you just had to have them."
This calls for acceptance of your past and imperfections. When people regret their choices, I like to say that no one wakes up and makes a list of ways they're going to fuck up their life. What became problems today were like impulsive purchases we made back then.
"You had to have him. And you did. And now you pull down the bridge between your houses, you make him call before he visits, you take a lover for granted, you take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are magic."
It acknowledges the irresistible pull we felt towards our pwBPD but advocates for setting and enforcing boundaries. It highlights how essential it is to be with someone who truly values you.
The poem concludes with a reminder to cherish your existence and not let grief or revenge overshadow your worth. It encourages us to transform our scars into symbols of resilience.
I hope these words bring some comfort and inspiration to everyone here ❤️

Not too long ago I discovered this amazing poet called pemo, now i finally have the opportunity to review and critique one of their poems. Being a fellow poet myself i love to learn about new stuff through other poems and i certainly did learn about an entirely new festival with this one, as a non-christian from India I had little to no idea about this festival known as “ Saint Patrick’s Day”.
Pemo starts this piece with a classic line “roses are red”.Throughout history this line has led to either a romantic, joyful or peaceful verselet. On the contrary this line proves to be misleading when we read the rest of the poetry. It is truly genius how Pemo has used this line to lead to something melancholic.
The second line not only replaces “violets are blue” perfectly, but also clearly signifies the early tradition of dying the Chicago river green on this festival. Pemo has written this monologue from their own perspective but we all seem to relate to it as we read further.
The speaker is in despair despite of millions of people celebrating a festival tributing achievements of a great person which hits a soft corner in the reader's heart as somewhere deep we all know that no amount of forced celebration can bring a person even close to the same euphoria as a loved one who knows us inside out and loves us unconditionally. This contrast emphasises the theme of loneliness or longing amidst public joy. The speaker reminisces about someone special who made them feel seen and appreciated.On St. Patrick's Day, the speaker feels an underlying sense of incompleteness or absence, making the celebration bittersweet.
The doodle gives me a tsunami of mixed emotions as it is so adorable and so sad at the same time. It shows the speaker sitting on the bank of the Chicago river and their tears of forsakenness feeding the water of the river. It represents the way the sorrow of so many people loses its identity and is overlooked as celebration and joy instead.
I love the way Pemo makes their poetry so interactive and relatable to the readers when it comes to repressed feelings. Out of the many melancholic monologues i have written and read this is definitely one of the poems that expresses the most emotions in the least amount of words and Pemo will forever be an inspiration to me when it comes to this.
---------------------------------THANK YOU<3-----------------------------------------THE POEM