I Accepted a Job to Film on the Dark Web
Man, I am pumped to tell you chronically online content addicts my story. Wait is that too mean of an intro? Will this get taken down for harassment since I painted too accurate a picture of the people on this site? Sorry, everyone, I’m sure you all smell like an expensive bakery and have touched grass this morning. Anyway, I promise I have something interesting. It even involves the dark web you uncreative writers cream yourselves over! I mean, totally real people speaking about their strangely similar experiences. Okay, fine I’ll stop bullying you through the screen before you click off.
This all started when I was seven years old and my parents were killed in front of me in an anti-indigenous hate crime, but let's be real you don’t care. I’m just some annoying Cherokee kid with dead parents so I’ll skip to the good parts. I spent years in an orphanage, gradually becoming more interested in death and violence. As bad as it is, I went out of my way to expose myself to that content in the hopes of desensitizing myself. Which ended up working too well, since now I’m obsessed with causing and viewing pain, though I don’t find any joy in hurting myself.
I got adopted at twelve and after a few months of staying at my new family’s home on the reservation, I went with them to a state sweatier than the average Reddit user, California. Long story short, both of my caretakers, whom I referred to as Uncle and Auntie because they could never be my parents, died. Leaving me in the care of their older son, who I call cousin. I’m not stupid enough to give up any real names, so I’ll call him Brick, cause he’s as dumb as one. He was in his early 20s when he was tasked with taking care of me and is the world’s worst excuse for a babysitter.
I’m almost always alone at the apartment, with him only coming by to drop off supplies and stay for a few hours so the neighbors don’t get too worried. Unless I get in trouble at school, then he’d suddenly give a shit. It's useful because he doesn't about the gory stuff I look at, but some display of interest would be nice. Oh well, ninety percent of the population sucks so he’s just part of the majority. Now, with that said, you’ll be able to understand the perfect storm that led me here. During my time on the deep web, I found a particular website that caught my eye. They had new footage relatively consistently and they were the easiest for me to access since I didn't go too far into the dark web, especially with all the honey pots lying around.
I even bought a couple of files for myself to study and admire. One thing irritated me though, the cameraman. He was always sobbing, breathing, shaking, or some combination of those. It seriously killed the vibe of the killings. Something I commented on under many videos, often saying I would do a better job filming. A choice that in hindsight was me asking to end up in one of those recordings. I didn't think anything of it at the time. I was mostly the only one who commented but I was sure they wouldn't care. I was embarrassingly wrong.
I was staying up like usual, but it was past one AM on a school night, and back then that was a lot so I tried to sleep. Closing my eyes, tossing and turning, the works. I had just started drifting off when I heard the front door open. I remained calm but immediately found it weird since Brick never showed up this late. The thuds of the individual's feet grew louder as they got closer to my bedroom. I tried to convince myself it wasn't a stranger, especially since they got in with ease, but I knew that was wishful thinking.
They hummed as they opened my door. My dumbass had left it unlocked. I remained on my side, trying to look like I was asleep. They turned on the flashlight of their phone, shining it in my face. It was hard but I stayed still while they traced it over my features. I could tell they were smiling as they clicked their tongue.
“Heh, I knew it was a brat,” they whispered to themselves, pulling tangles out of my hair. Something I struggled not to groan from. They pulled up the hair over my ear and got so close spit got on my ear lobe.
“I know you’re awake kid,” they murmured, putting a blade to my neck. I let them grab my shoulder and move me onto my back, I knew how to fight but I wasn't about to take that big a risk with the position they had me in.
“You think you’re so cool saying you can do better than our guy.” they snickered, kneeling, their flashlight still shining in my face.
“Do you seriously believe that?” they questioned, moving the light away.
“Yeah, I do.” I stood my ground, they might have been intimidating but I wasn't gonna let that stop me from being honest.
“I wouldn't sound like I’m gonna piss myself every time it gets gory. I’m confident I could get better footage too, getting up close is something I’ve fantasized about.”
They clicked their tongue again and ran their finger over the bridge of my nose.
”Well, I know you’re a big fan of what we do, and you’re confidence makes me think you got something to back those claims up, so how’d you like a deal?”
I was surprised by how civil they were being aside from the touching and weapon against my throat.
“What kind of deal?” I asked, for all I knew this guy wanted me to lick their feet or some weird shit like that. They placed a finger underneath my eye, tracing a half moon with their nail.
“You have till this Friday to film a video of you killing an animal and put it on a flash drive that I’ll pick up here. If it impresses me and the crew we’ll hire ya with a handsome salary.” They began, moving their hand down to my cheek.
“But if you don't show, or it doesn't meet our standards, then I’m fucking up one of the parts of your face.” They warned, pinching my skin harshly.
“And if I say no to this deal?”
They put their hand over my mouth, scratching my lips.
“That’s cute, if you say no I’ll just slit your throat.” they grinned.
“Or rip it open with my teeth if you got a preference,” they smirked, before running their tongue across their sharp teeth.
“Okay, since I have no choice I’ll go with it, but I’m telling you now I can give you something way better than what you likely expect of me.” I prefaced, looking into their sunken eyes. They scratched my scalp, including the side of my head that was shaved.
“Good choice, I’ll be back to pick it up and if you're not here I’ll assume you don’t have the video. I genuinely wish you luck, because you’ll need it.” they removed the blade from my neck and walked away. I sat still for a few minutes in the dark, processing what had happened and wondering how they got into my apartment with such ease. I was confident I could blow their sniveling excuse of a cameraman out of the water, but I was worried about the people I was getting caught up with.
Sure, I had been on a lot of gore sites over the years but I was always just watching and occasionally commenting. Compared to most in the scene I wasn't much of a threat. I could defend myself and have contemplated killing for years but I hadn't murdered anyone or worse. Plus, I am part of way too many targeted groups to not be constantly at risk. Teenage, fem-leaning, two-spirit, indigenous kid with trauma? Yeah, I might as well be walking sign screaming “Hate crime me”.
So yeah, there was a lot to worry about. Regardless, I couldn't let that fear hold me back. I had a job to do and a group of sickos to appease. The next morning was rough, I got no sleep cause I’d spent all night brainstorming. I barely mustered the energy to change and drank straight mouthwash instead of brushing my teeth. Slogging onto the bus with drool on my cheek, I went to the back like usual. No one sat there cause, the seats were extra worn down, and I scared off anyone who attempted to with my active, rabies-infected bitch face. That day was different though.
I blanked on his name and where I knew him from, but I recognized his wavy hair and prominent curved nose. He glanced at each seat on the bus, before somehow settling on my area. He tried to give me space but ultimately seated himself beside me after realizing it was the only spot that didn't look like it would give him cancer. I glared at him as I did with everyone, but it didn't phase him.
“You know you could pick anywhere else right?” I murmured. He stared at the floor, then at me.
“I’m aware, but a few months ago I started a mission to sit on every part of this bus, and this is the last place.” he smiled, his lips softly curving at the sides.
“What’s the point of that?”
His mouth moved into a more neutral position, but his eyes kept smiling.
“I just thought it would be neat to see the same place from a bunch of different perspectives.” he took out his phone and snapped a photo from the point of view where he was sitting. Maybe my sleepiness made my bitch face less effective, cause he hadn't shown a hint of fear, which kind of annoyed me.
“That’s cool I guess, but I wouldn't do that if I were you. I’ve done some back here alone that would make your skin crawl.” in hindsight my attempt at unnerving him just made me sound like a pervert, which is probably why he held back laughter. Trying to hide a chuckle by clearing his throat.
“Hey, it's not my business what you do, no matter how Haram it is. It’s your life so that’s between you and whatever you believe in. Just don’t shake hands with me.” he joked, playfully putting his hands up. Strangely, I remembered his name at that moment.
“Oh shit, you’re Abdul! We have art together.” I sat up, haphazardly slamming my hand down on my leg.
“Uh yeah, I’ve seen some of your paintings, they’re pretty cool. I like the way you texture them, I’m trying to work on that.” he complimented, seeming more weirded out by my sudden energy than my accidental insinuation. I felt a little stupid for yelling his name but decided not to dwell on it.
“Thanks, you’re stuff is nice, and you’re good at shading.”
He stretched his arms while thanking me. We talked for a few more minutes, taking jabs at each other throughout. Turns out he was better at being an asshole than his artsy charismatic appearance made me think. The thing setting our insults apart being that you could tell he was a loving person underneath. It was the nicest conversation I had with anyone in a while. Though he could tell I was tired so he quieted down, letting me sleep, waking me when we got to school. We went our separate ways until the last two periods we shared. All that time, I spent my remaining energy plotting how I was going to handle the video. What I’d kill, record with, and how to dispose of the evidence. It was a lot to consider, but through three classes I devised a plan.
I’d find a stray around my apartment complex and take it out in my room. Record it on a portable camera since I broke the ones on my phone, no, I will not be answering how that happened. Then once I had my footage I’d put the body in a trash bag, throw it in the complex’s garbage, and clean the blood off my floor. It didn't seem like Brick would come by so he wasn't a factor I thought I’d have to consider. The plan was almost too easy, but I decided to believe in Occam’s razor. I got so lost in thought that by the time I reached Art, which was my second-to-last period, I didn't process that we were moving seats.
“She called your name,” Abdul reminded me. Our teacher placed us next to each other at our four-person table. The two girls sitting with us were already friends, so I didn't bother to say anything, but I was interested in talking to him more.
“So, what do you think of this assignment?” He shrugged, taking out his sketchbook.
“I’m not that good at drawing people, but the idea of combining two people’s faces into a portrait seems interesting. Any ideas on who you’ll pick?”
“Probably the members of the music duo Brain Tumor, they’re my favorite artists and they both look weird as hell.”
“Wow way to talk about your favorites, if that’s what you say about them I can‘t imagine what you have to say about me.” he joked, pulling up reference pictures.
“First, it’s not an insult, second I don’t have anything to say about you. Brain and Tumor have features and styles that make them stand out. Sure they’re ugly, but it just adds to their visual charm. Hot people are boring, there’s nothing to pick at.” I explained, unzipping my bag.
“Oh, so you’re saying you think I’m hot.”
His comment wasn’t serious but it kind of got to me.
“Shit, that’s not what I meant, I was trying to say you’re boring. All hot people are boring, but not all boring people are hot, okay?” I explained, flipping to a clean page.
“Alright, but if I’m so bland then why talk to me?”
I hesitated, contemplating how much of a dick I was gonna be.
“Because it means you probably need some spice in your life, which I can provide.”
He began sketching a head on his paper.
“I like spices, but I feel like you’re the kind of person to dump a cabinet’s worth onto me.”
I flicked my pencil over to his side of the desk, putting on a mocking grin.
“Aww, you scared I’m gonna get you into trouble?”
He picked up the pencil and started using it, putting his on my side.
“No, ‘cause I’m good at setting boundaries. I’m more concerned that you’ll get annoyed with how unafraid of you I am.”
I stared at him for a moment, I hadn't expected to hear that.
“Jeez, man you didn't have to read me like that.”
He shrugged, observing the red paint from past projects that lay on my pencil.
“It's not hard to figure out, just this morning you were trying to push me away on the bus. Lucky, or unlucky, for you I want you to have a friend and you seem like a fun person.”
“Wait are you saying I have no friends?” I squinted at him.
“Well, do you?”
I didn't answer.
“If your response is silence I suggest you take up my offer.”
I was stunned, to be honest. No one had offered to be my friend since 6th grade, and that didn't last long. Of course, I accepted it, but for the rest of the period, there was an awkwardness in my mind. As pathetic as it sounds I wasn't used to others genuinely enjoying my company like he did. Which was partly by design cause I get joy out of scaring people away, but still. I forgot how it felt to have conversations about normal things like art. He had such a nice smile too, usually when I see a grin I want to slap it off, but I liked his. His voice was also nice, it’s hard to describe what in particular but it was easy on the ears.
Okay, I’m starting to get off-topic. I’ll skip to the important part. Toward the end of class, he started talking about how he was interested in filmmaking and got a portable video camera as a gift at last year’s Eid. He didn't have it on him, but he showed me a picture.
“Heh, that’s funny, I bought the same one a month ago.” I pointed out.
“Yeah, it's a popular model, I’m still getting the hang of it though cause I’m so used to using my phone.”
“Well, maybe I could bring you over to my place or vice versa after school and I can help you out.” I suggested.
He smiled, putting his phone back in his pocket.
“I thought you said you’ve only had it for a month? You know I can always look up tutorials from trained professionals.” he reminded me with a notable smugness that I'd used with him before.
“Well those guys are stuffy and I’m a fast learner.”
He redirected his attention back to his page, picking his pencil up.
“Alright, I suggest we go somewhere public instead. You’re not exactly the kind of person I want to bring home to my parents right away. Plus they always need to meet my friends and their guardians before I hang out at their home.”
I gave an exaggerated sigh, stretching my back.
“Aw man, looks like we can’t get high in my murder pit during our first hangout.”
He didn't respond for a solid few seconds.
“Wait, you do know I'm joking right?”
He shrugged, the smile in his eyes appearing again.
“I mean, one of those things is a little less believable than the other.” he snickered, and I laughed with him.
We set up a time and a date, which is where I screwed myself. He ended up being busy with projects from his other classes and family which just left us with Friday, the same day I had to submit the video. Now, did I tell him I wouldn't be able to make it? No, of course not, because I decided to be stupid and even more overconfident. I said that I’d one hundred percent be able to hang out with him after school like I didn't have a mutilator who was going to drop by my place at an unknown time.
The rest of the day went over fine but that bad timing led me to feel like a dick later. When I got home I was able to write out my plan, even sketching a few specifics of what I’d do. It was more exciting than when I’d been brainstorming, but this is when the gravity of the situation began to set in. When I said I’d fantasized about killings I meant it. I mean my teddy with twenty-five stab wounds should say enough. Regardless this would be the first time real blood was on my hands.
It made me feel powerful, but a little afraid. I’ve heard stories of people thinking that it would be an awesome experience and then feeling like shit. I doubted I’d be one of those people but still. Plus, I didn't exactly trust the guy who gave me this job. There was a good chance that this whole situation was rigged and they’d kill me no matter how good the video was. Or worse turn me into the feds and expose my collection. Honestly, if that happened I’d probably eat a shot to avoid going to jail. Wait, can I say that on this platform? Okay to the mods, that was a joke, I want to live a long life. Ugh, I’m doing a terrible job of staying on track. The point is there was a lot up in the air despite it being a matter of life or death.
I knew I’d go through with it but it was still a lot less straightforward than it initially seemed. I wracked my brain to remember where most of the cats stayed and tried to come up with a good way to lure one without raising suspicion. This also proved harder than first thought because I didn't think to account for the cat man, an old guy who lived alone and fed all the cats in our dingy complex while also housing a few. Knowing how obsessive he was he’d probably notice if one of them disappeared. Then again not all the cats return consistently or at all. It makes more sense that he’d think one of them was run over rather than slaughtered. It was getting late again so I rested my head for a moment, a bad move cause I ended up falling asleep at my desk. Not even changing out of the clothes I’d worn before, I woke up late and barely caught the bus the next morning.
I went to my usual spot but Abdul had already taken it. He patted the area next to it, which he’d covered in a towel, a smart move knowing how nasty it was. People gave me a few dirty looks as normal, which I smiled at. I stretched, my mind slightly less out of it than the previous morning.
“Uh, you do realize that-”
“Yeah, I know I’m wearing the same clothes.”
Abdul looked me up and down, his eyes remaining soft, but with a mix of concern and judgment. He set his backpack down and took off his sweater handing it to me.
“Dude what are you-”
“Look I don't know what led to you not being able to change but I think you should at least have a fresh top.”
I was surprised he was offering me something to wear but I took it.
“Uh, thanks, I’ll change into it later.”
He nodded as I put it in my backpack.
“You know you didn't have to do that.” I reminded him.
“Well there’s a lot of stuff I don’t have to do, but I do it because I want to, and I wanted to help you out.”
He smiled, his face still warmer than an Arizona summer. I got a strange feeling in my chest at that moment, I still can’t tell if it was good or bad.
“Well, thanks, I'll give it back to you tomorrow.”
We talked a little more and he mentioned something that caught my attention.
“Have you heard about all the animals that have been turning up dead?”
My eyes widened with surprise.
“No, I haven't, when did you hear about that?”
He pulled on his long-sleeve shirt.
“My sister said her friend who works at a shelter noticed a bunch of animals were getting adopted by people around the same time, and since then gore videos with them have been showing up. She found out through her co-worker who was emailed it by some random creep.”
I covered my mouth and looked away to hide the smile growing on my face. He had just given me the perfect cover-up without knowing. Now if I killed an animal people had an entire violent ring to connect it to instead of me! I stayed quiet for a minute because I could tell he’d likely see through any phony sad sounds I made.
“Oh wow, that’s awful, do you think they’ll ever find out the people behind it?”
He sighed, running his hand through his wavy hair.
“I hope so, for now, all we can do is pray that no more animals get hurt.”
I couldn't contain my grin as he said that so sincerely like animals and people didn't die constantly and that taking down one group would somehow stop the issue.
“Is there some joke I don’t get?” he furrowed his brow.
“Uh, no, sorry I smile when nervous.”
His gaze softened again, and he didn't press further.
His bringing up the animal killings ended up being the exact push I needed to get my hands dirty. I’d spent the entire day before planning so it was time to put that plan into action. I stole some cat treats that the cat man had laid out and spread them around my apartment which was on the bottom floor. Waiting for one of them to take the bate outside my window was pretty boring but one of them came after a few minutes. A scraggly brown and black cat with a tuft of fur missing on one side of his head. It's messed up but I felt like a little less of an asshole for taking him in since he looked like he was already struggling. I scooped him up and he didn't attempt to fight back.
“Hey there buddy” I waved, feeding him some more food. His eyes had a lot of crust on them, it was kinda gross but I don’t have the right to say with how often I wash my jeans. After a minute or two he let me pet him. I knew making any kind of attachment was bad but I thought it was the right thing to do so he’d fall into a sense of security. I was just about to take him into my room when the door opened.
“Hey, I’m back with groceries!” my shithead cousin announced with two plastic bags in his hands. He looked down to see me with the cat, his eyebrows raising.
“Aw come on, you know we can’t afford a pet.”
He groaned placing the bags on a table and unloading them.
“I know, but he doesn't look like he’s got a lot of life in him I at least want to help him feel better before he kicks the bucket!”
Brick rolled his eyes, putting the cereal box on top of the fridge
“Jeez, did you even think about what diseases he might have? His eyes look puffy what if he has something that can get you sick?”
He had valid concerns which was surprising since he’s usually stupid, but I was still annoyed with him.
“I’m sure he’s fine, I’ll even try to wash him, just please let me hold onto him for a little.”
He folded his arms looking down at us.
“Have you even named him?”
I froze for a second, before using the first thing that came to mind, which ended up being pretty awful knowing my plans.
“Cash cow.” I blurted, awkwardly patting his head.
“Honestly that’s better than what I was expecting. I was sure you’d pick ‘Hellspawn Mcgee’ or something else corny.”
He meant to make fun of me but honestly, I would have named him that if I had more time.
“Ugh, anyway I got those dumb chips you like.”
He then pulled out a bag of the wrong chips.
“Dude those are the wrong ones, this is the third time you’ve mixed up the flavors.”
He threw them at me, scaring the cat slightly.
“Well, I pay for it so you shouldn't be so picky. Anyway, while I was in line I picked up something you might be into.”
He then tossed me a trashy teen magazine. One of my least favorite sorry excuses for an influencer on the cover.
“This is a joke, right?”
I couldn't believe my own adopted brother gave such little shit in my interests.
“I don't know, you decided to start being a girl for real this time so I thought the makeup tips on page ten would help you out.”
I scrunched my face at his comment.
“Dude I’ve been this way for years, just because I started wearing more makeup and dresses doesn't mean I’m more of a girl than when I didn't. I know you won’t get the two-spirit thing but come on.”
He shrugged, seeing me done with me even though he’d just shown up.
“Yeah well hey I’m trying. Anyway, just so you know a friend of mine is coming here Friday.”
My heart stopped.
“Wait why here? You live elsewhere why can’t you assholes go there or their place!”
He slammed his fist on the table.
“Will you shut the fuck up!”
He screamed with a phrase I’d grown numb to.
“I don't know, to be honest, something about wanting to move into this complex and this being a way to scout it out. I’m just letting you know now so you don’t act like a complete freak.”
“Jokes on you I’ll piss in whatever shitty beer you bring just cause you said that!”
I yelled back raising my voice higher than his. He face-palmed before putting the plastic bags in the drawer under the sink.
“Whatever, you and your ketamine-addict-looking cat have fun,” he told me while seating himself on the couch. I picked up the cat and walked into the bathroom to clean it. I closed the door and placed him in the dry tub. Using a small disposable mouthwash cup I got a little bit of water. I hadn't had a pet before so I wasn't sure how to approach the task. I dipped my fingers in the water and carefully pet it while pouring s small bit down his back. Any other cat would fight back but he just made pissed-off noises without doing anything.
I scrapped my old shampoo bottle and kneaded it into his thin fur. His skin was bumpy and dry beneath the hair so scrubbing it was uncomfortable. I made sure to avoid getting soap in its eyes but I did pull away some of the crust on its lids. His pupils were so clouded I was surprised that he could see at all, making me feel even more sure that he would be on its way out with or without me.
After drying him I set him on a beat-up shirt I wore when modifying clothes. He sunk his claws into it a few times, playing with a loose string. I ignored him for the rest of the night, hopping into the shower and changing for bed. His meows woke me up a few times but I tuned it out after a while, reminding myself that he wouldn’t be my cat for long.
The next day was Thursday and there wasn't a second that passed by where the weight of the murder I’d have to commit didn't weigh on me. I seriously shot myself in the foot by taking care of that scruffy, pubic hair pile. I was supposed to be hyped about killing it, after all, I’d dreamed and seen way worse than what I was going to do. Yet once I got home and started setting up I felt grosser with each step. I decided to record it in my bathroom instead of my bedroom so it would be harder to connect to me. I set down a few fabric scraps and a worn-out beach towel, placing it all inside a tub for easier cleanup later.
“Okay, I guess it's time,” I mumbled to myself. I brought the cat in and placed it down, setting up my camera once it was comfortable. I also wore my most generic clothes in addition to a mask, putting my hair in a bun for sanitation. When I saw the flicker of red showing that the camera was on I felt I was dreaming. I smiled, excited that I’d get to live out my violent desires. Yet, when I looked down at its pathetic frame and confused expression those urges left me.
I rationalized what I was doing, reminding myself how many animals die all the time and that I’d been forced into this, but it didn't help much in the end. I won’t get into it but under the pressure of impressing the group Cash Cow didn't go out as fast as I would have liked for a first task. Getting rid of the evidence was especially rough, the textures were pretty nasty, to put it mildly. It was surreal watching the blood go down the tub drain and gradually drip off my hands as I rinsed them. I couldn't conjure a single thought the entire time I cleaned it up.
Whether I was wringing out the clothes or putting the remains in plastic bags, it didn't matter. All I could focus on was the task at hand, with hints of disgust along the way. I ended up finishing at three AM. My hands were wrinkled and shook once I settled. I won’t deny that during the murder I didn't hate it. Slashing into something was fun and it made me feel strong. Still, it wasn't nearly as fulfilling as I expected it to be. Part of it was guilt, but it was mostly disappointment. I’d built it up for years and it wasn't earth shatteringly good or bad.
Overall, I expected to feel more, but it just left me hollow with an uncomfortable itch. There was no way I’d ever be able to see the tub the same way, hell I don’t think I’ll ever use it again. Luckily I almost always shower anyway so it's not too big of a deal. I watched a few horror game videos, trashed everything, changed and went to bed.
My scalp hurt like a bitch the morning since I kept my hair in that stupid bun. Despite getting less sleep than the past two days I held myself together a bit better in the morning. I brushed my teeth, changed, and had some fried bread before getting on the bus. Regardless I looked like complete shit and struggled to slump into my seat.
“Rough night?” Abdul asked
“Uh, yeah.” I quietly responded looking to the floor.
He frowned, looking at me with concern.
“You can talk about it if you're comfortable,” he assured me. I contemplated giving him a thinly veiled metaphor or vague explanation so he'd comfort me but stopped myself before my mouth could run a muck. He wouldn't be able to do much of anything and I don’t like opening up.
“Uhm, thanks but it's something I have to deal with alone.”
He nodded, respecting my boundaries.
“You know, I understand if you can’t hang out today it seems like you have a lot going on.”
I avoided eye contact with him as he spoke. For once I was feeling hints of guilt toward a person. I wanted to spend time with him, but I knew that I wasn't in the state to do that.
“Yeah, I think it’ll have to wait, I’m-” I cut myself off before apologizing. A fact about me that should surprise no one is that I hate apologizing. Even when I do feel kinda bad the act fills me with embarrassment.
“You what?” he asked, his eyes telling me that he knew what I was going to say.
“I’m emotionally not great.” I spat out in an admittedly poor attempt to get out of saying sorry. As always he remained calm but I could tell he saw through me.
“Okay, like I said I understand, whatever it is I hope you feel better.”
I told him thank you and we didn't speak for the rest of the day. At home I changed into more comfortable clothes and brushed my teeth. Unfortunately, I wasn't bouncing back from killing nearly as much as I expected.
“It wasn't even that bad! That thing was on its last legs anyway.” I grumbled to myself, smacking my forehead. I was feeling worse than when I did it which is weird. I ended up spontaneously decorating a ratty tie from the bottom of an accessory drawer to distract myself. It helped me get my mind off things, for a little. I had zero plan, just wanting to make something needlessly complex. Hours that felt like minutes passed and soon it was covered in patches, frills, and beads. I just tried it on when I heard the front door open.
“Man, that shit was wild!” I heard Brick laugh groggily. I didn't have to see or smell him to know he’d gotten lit. I rolled my eyes, closing my bedroom door.
“Hey, who’s there?” his friend asked, seemingly referring to me.
“Oh, that’s my little sis, don’t mind her she’s just on her emo shit!” he joked, which pissed me off for the petty reason that I didn't even listen or dress emo.
“Hey, that’s alright with me, I went through one of those phases,” they responded, their words less slurred than my cousin’s.
I fucked up and forgot to lock it when I closed it so they were able to swing it open, almost smacking my desk.
“Hey emo girl!” they waved as Brick haphazardly pulled them back.
“Okay, man, seriously I think she wants to be left alone.”
The way his friend looked at me made me uncomfortable. Like they’d snap my neck if I pissed them off. They clicked their tongue while stepping through the door frame.
“Alright, but I gotta say calling her an emo is inaccurate, they look like they watch gore and most emos just say they do.” they flashed a sharp toothy grin. At that moment I began to connect the dots.
“Easy, she’ll get pissy with you dude, now come on.” Brick warned tugging their opened button pushed him away. They looked me dead in the eyes.
“I don’t think she minds, in truth, I feel like we’ll have a lot to discuss later.” they smiled again, finally walking back into the living room. A chill ran up my spine when I saw them. The sharp teeth, New York accent, unsettling gaze, that motherfucker was the person who recruited me! They were able to get into my place so easily cause my dumbass cousin probably gave them a spare key or the opportunity to make one, and now they were a room away from me!
I dug my hands into my pillow as I contemplated what to do, no matter what happened next, I knew it was gonna be a rough visit.

Now that I discovered this community I am pretty confident what is happening to me is all tied back to this lovely little jaw muscle. I see my GP Monday 8am . Hoping for any advice - better details - corrections on my wrong assumptions or statements and ultimately a little reassurance and validation from yall , That what is happening to me right now is all connected and I am not crazy.
10 months ago I had my last 2 upper molars pulled the "ol fashioned" way with the wiggling and the tugging and the ripping and the "Okay now you're going to feel a bit of pressure" followed by the feeling that your jaw is in fact being ripped out of your mouth.
Things started mild 6 months ago intensified around the 3 month mark and now these last 3 weeks I can barely function. I feel the definition of "Malaise" hits perfect. I'm afraid to leave my house the head pain / brain fog has me feeling like I could blackout any second, And the whoosh / vertigo / world spins has me terrified of driving.
So here is what I'm feeling in order of how they hit , everything is on the left side if that matters
Shoulder Blade - Everything is felt along the bottom of the blade.
Jolt of fire and burning on the skin -- A tearing and ripping under the skin on the muscle - Starts to vibrate a tingling fire sensation outward in a semi circle
When I put my tens unit on there the flexing caused pain on the top of shoulder and collarbone.
Always strongest when I lift or carry, random bursts when I'm sitting doing nothing and now even the weight of my phone sends it to 11
Muscles Weakness and Tremors
When the blade pain is bad, I can barely grip anything with my hand, Hands tremble and different arm muscles randomly will twitch and flex.
My jaw is now (2 weeks) shivering / chittering (IDK wtf it is) as if im cold. Digging my fingers into the facial knots will stop it. Always hits when I first get out of bed, then a few times during the day no pattern in the trigger
Eyes/Ears
Couldn't keep my contacts in more than half day , left only felt cloudy hazy blurry - They are brand new lenses and Ive been use the good "eye juice" with no changes. Tried yesterday had to take em out within an hour.
Sharp twinge zap inside the ear - cold trickling sensation down the canal - ends with a punch of pain behind ear on the thick neck tendon
The Whoosh (Is this brain fog? Something else?) Zap / Jolt of electricity on top of my brain but under my skull - The whoosh when i see everything spin a 360 for a second - And ends with me "off kilter' for minutes to hours, As if there is a delay between what my eye sees to when my brain processes. During the spell ill feel "wonky" "Out of body" "tunnelly vision"
The Exploding Head
Its a constant feeling / sensation that my head is filling with sludge.
Forehead & eye have waves of intense dull aches, This part is killing so bad right now, even with NSAIDS it never stops having pressure just relieves it slightly. When it kicks hard and throbs my eyes go really fuzzy and that im going to blackout feeling hits. I have not actually passed or blacked out thank god - my cats would eat me alive in a day -
Jaw/ cheek & gums are twitchy with tightness/fullness and pointy pain shockwaves. The M in the TMJ is a ball of rubberbands and it is so very tender. My face does not appear to have anything swelling outwards from here but poking around in there i find tons of lumps I can break up.. Opening and closing i have full range I think and right now no popping or pains when i do. The area by my ear where the bones connect is so tender, but I dont feel lumps much here. I feel such relief when I hit here with my point tool.
Side of my Neck has small mushy lumps just under the skin and some big daddies deeper in and these ones get stabbyy pains that pulse with my heart.
Back of my neck the bottom half is gravel I can break up pretty easy but I think 3 more come back in their place.
Base of skull I have golf balls burried deep,. They dont throb but when I rub them it is painful but in the best way because I feel such release everywhere else but then they hurt for days. When I rub them to hard and deep oh man sore for days.
All this ends at my upper back and this area is awful. It burns on the surface level 24/7. Icy hot tricks my brain for about and hour. I did some scraping massage here and it sounded like rice krispies and I think hese are adhesions vs knots. .Deeper is full of thick knots, I have the trigger point hook to dig in there and sometimes magic happens and the ache everywhere else gets better for a bit.
The floating bone
It was mild discomfort, odd feelings of tightness inside my actual throat, tingles and a dry feel. It started wiggling around on its own pretty often and when I felt that first water balloon pop inside yikes I was scared AF. Now it just moves whenever it wants. I barely touch it and it "shoots" to the other side. Massaging in here hurts so GOOD! Looking all the way up and feeling from chin towards throat I have many bumps all different sizes. And lastly when I move my head certain ways it feels as if there is a leak happening and almost mucus-y like I could cough but usually dont need to
If you are still with me many apologies this got longer than I thought it would. Today has been my worst day so far, all the pains I mentioned are now hitting at once. Today I was sitting here sobbing in pain it because I was at 13 / 10 and wouldn't ease no matter what I pressed on . 3 Naproxen with 3 ibuprofen gives me about 3 hours of refief right now. I know posture is a part of my pain levels and ive aready ordered some tools so I can correct.

I've been using braid as my main with a small leader of mono. How much leader do I need? and how often should I redo the FG knot?
Additionally, do people tie their lures directly to the leader? Or is it ok to use a snap swivel on the end of the mono?

Full disclosure this was more a failed attempt at pettiness than actual wedding drama. It was the late 80's. My then fiance and I were invited to a Hawaiian themed wedding reception at a condo complex rec center. The couple had already tied the knot in Hawaii, thus the theme. The groom and my fiance were buddies. I had met the bride before and we got along fine, but we were not what you would call friends. I went out and found a pretty pink Hawaiian floral strapless dress for myself and a nice peach colored shirt for my fiance. I knew the dress was a bit sexy, maybe too sexy, but I was 24. I would never consider myself a great beauty, but I was not completely unfortunate in the looks department back then. Besides, the only other option had been a MooMoo. Yuck! I did wear a little white bolero sweater for covering up to the reception but it was summer, so I eventually took that off. I've always been busty and I had nice figure then. The girls and I rocked that dress!! I didn't really know anyone there, so I stayed close to my fiance. I don't recall dancing and was most likely not drinking because I had to drive. We basically just stood off to the side socializing. I did notice some guys seemed to be lurking close by, but by no means was I behaving in any way to draw the attention away from the bride who looked lovely on her day. Several months later it was my wedding day. Of course they were invited. She shows up with her B-cup bust pushed up as high as she possibly could. I'm not even sure how she managed it. Tape maybe? I knew immediately she was being petty, but I found it more humerous than anything else. I told her she looked great and thanked them for coming and then went on to have a great wedding, with great food, joined by my great friends. My marriage didn't last, but I got two awesome kids out of it. My youngest will be 30 soon.

29, homeowner on £40k salary.
I have £24k in savings, wanting to spend £14k on a car. I can afford it, saving £1.2k each month.
I get a car is never the soundest financial decision, but it’s something I want.
I can’t help but tie myself in knots and have instant regret/anxious thoughts over every financial decision I make which involves ‘treating’ myself - this being the latest example.
Life isn’t always about saving, the remaining £10k serving as an emergency fund would last me nearly a year.
Obviously a psychological problem, I want to enjoy my money but I feel like I can’t. First world problem I know, but it’s a miserable existence.
How do/did you deal with this mentality when faced with it?

Who is your favorite side character, ie not any who has a point of view in the story? I’d have to say mine is Valan Luca, his interactions first with Elayne and Nynaeve are hilarious, and his antics later on with Mat help alleviate the boredom of Elayne’s Camelyn arc and Perrin groaning about how useless he is and doing nothing but tying knots for a book and a half.

Started driving stick when I moved to the U.K. If you don’t know, most cars in the U.K. are manual and if you have an automatic, your insurance is going to be insanely high. I taught myself how to drive stick and fell in love with it. I have moved back to the states and I now have a modified Focus ST. My dad come out to visit me and told me that I shouldn’t be using the clutch when I shift only to get out of first. Is it better to shift without using the clutch? I’ve only been driving stick for about 8 years but my dad has been driving stick cars/semi trucks before I was born. Just wondering if this is an older car thing that he’s referencing or not. Also any do’s, donts and modifications any of you guys like I’m all ears
Current mods: -Cobb accessport V3 - stage 3 pre tune -Cobb cold air intake -Cobb front mount intercooler -Turbosmart BOV -Cobb short shifter kit -Steeda driver side solid motor mount -Steeda passenger side solid motor mount -CP-E stage 2 rear motor mount -Cobb sound symposium delete -JL oil/air catchcan -Cobb rear sway bar -Some british brand lower front tie bar -Cobb Turboback Exhaust System -4D tech touch screen center console -ST-X full adjustable coilovers -245/35ZR19 Goodyear Exhilarates -19in Niche Rims -Syder LED headlight
WANT TO ADD-- -Syder Led taillights w/ sequential turn -Mirror sequential turn signals -Slighlty bigger turbo and charge pipes -cobb front bumper air scoop

Being totally true to the original game, we would actually add these a week and half into the game after everyone had just been making up their troop numbers. What follows is a slightly modified form of the rules that were on the original wiki.

Code of Chivalry

YOU MUST READ THROUGH THESE RULES IF YOU WISH TO PARTICIPATE IN THE SUBREDDIT! THEY ARE VITAL TO KEEPING THE SUBREDDIT FUNCTIONING IN THE MOST IDEAL MANNER!

1) Time

• Time in /westerospowers does not progress at the same rate as IRL. For more effective interaction, it is sped up.
  
• 1 day IRL = 2 months in WP
  
• Like in /worldpowers, Sunday is not counted in WP, this is a day off where houses can post [NEWS] for the week relating to their holding. [EVENTS] cannot be created, nor [CONFLICTS]. Basically, no action other than [NEWS], [CLAIM] or [META] can take place on Sunday. In your post, put the WP time, not IRL time (for example) : 4 months . (this would be 2 days IRL)
  

2) Claiming

You can claim a holdfast and a house/faction, which will give you dominion over it's adjoining lands. For example; House Baratheon and Storm's End, or Vaes Dothrak and the Dothraki Sea. There cannot be more than one of each house, unless an agreement has been reached, and then no more than two. The two must also be easily distinguishable (i.e. Stannis/Renly Baratheon).
Click here to see what can and can't be claimed.

• When you claim, use the [CLAIM] tag and state the house and holdfast in your title, and then use the description to tell us what you want your style to be (e.g. Kingslayer, Lion of the Rock, Red Viper, Mother of Dragons).
  
• Once you claim a holdfast, we will do the best we can to quickly get it on the Claimed List. Remember, we fuck up too, so feel free to message the mods.
  
• You may abandon your holdfast at any point in the game and claim another one. However, you will only be able to do so again after 1 month.
  
• ORGANIZATIONS NOT MENTIONED IN THE LIST ARE NOT AVAILABLE CLAIMS. It doesn't matter if they exist in the ASOIAF universe, you cannot claim the Faceless Men or Sellsword Company #91238 if they're not listed.
  

3) Wiki

• Once you claim a holdfast, we will make a wiki page for you. Make sure to include your title and , a brief description of your house, your prominent laws and regulations, and any alliances, or allegiances you have.
  
• Example, The Citadel
  
• Please update your wiki, it makes it easier when people want to find out about your house for alliances/fealty etc.
  

4) Etiquette

POSTS
DO

• Use a tag: [CLAIM], [EVENT], [EXPANSION], [CONFLICT], [NEWS], or [META].
  
• Announce anything important, agreements, events, and make decrees. Celebrate or commiserate occasions, such as marriage contracts, welcoming a new sworn sword, mourning a death, completing construction, weddings, funerals, etc.
  

DO NOT

• Be stupid. Play the game of thrones, be patient, forge alliances, and don't unveil your moves until it's too late. Open war is not always the most feasible option. .

.

5) Duel

[DUEL] will be used for starting duels. A duel will consist of a 1v1 battle between two characters. Each belligerent will post a role playing story of the last few minutes before the fight begins. The "home team" gets to make the first post so they can describe the location of the duel. The stories will be voted upon and the post with the most upvotes (not overall score because we're ignoring downvotes) will win. The winner will then post a [DUEL - RESOLVED] post that describes the fight. If a stories score doubles (minimum winner score 4) the other's the winner may kill the loser. Otherwise, all duels end with a capture or injury.

6) Conflict

It is natural that houses will wish to attack other houses for land and resources, or simply to keep things interesting. This is fine, but it is wise to consider diplomacy before calling the banners.

How do I create a Conflict?

• Make a post using the [Conflict - Rally] tag declaring that you are rallying your allies. This step will be used for a lord to call his allies to rally on him for a coming battle. Any lords that wish to participate in a coming battle must respond to this post (with the amount of troops rallied) in order to be counted in the battle. Any forces that were loaned to a lord by an [Event] post can be rallied by the loanee. The opposing side in the conflict should create their own rally post. You can still choose to stand down from a rally.

[Conflict - Rally] The Riverlands call forth their banners against the false King!

• If you wish to betray those who think you allies, Rally as normal for your supposed allies. Then send a message to the moderators with a [Conflict - Betrayal] tag. The mod will take your forces into account on the correct side.
  
• When at least 24 IRL hours have passed since one of the Rallies, you may then commit your forces using a [CONFLICT - COMMIT]. This signals the attack; defenders can not commit. This sets the number of troops that will be on each side to whomever has rallied on each side. If one side does not create a Rally post it is assumed that they use their full local forces (i.e. those still in the holdfast). A mod will then create the next post.
  

[CONFLICT-COMMIT] MyHouse attacks ThatHouse

• If you wish to retire from the field (i.e. if diplomacy succeeds or if you do not want to do battle), please create a [Rally - Release] post. This will count as your troops leaving the field, and neither army will be able to attack after that post has been made. Of course, if you retreat while defending a holdfast, the attackers can freely take it.

How does a conflict end?

• Whichever team of countries has the most points from battles wins. If the loser does not surrender then the battle continues. If the conflict lasts for the full 6 days IRL, then the loser must agree to a fully unconditional surrender.
  
• Another way for a conflict to end is if the attacker calls off the conflict or if the holdfast invaded surrenders or they both come up with a peaceful treaty to end the war.
  

What happens after a Conflict where a winner is declared at the end?

• The losing ruler has two options:

a) The less honourable course: They may rule their holdfast under the authority of the winner by pledging fealty, and becoming vassals. This means they must give their allegiance to the winning house. However, the loser can plot to overthrow the winner, but obviously must find the support to do it. The victor lays claim to the conquered land. The losing ruler still has control of the land, however, will be under control of the victor and will need to report to the victor as the victor may veto any decision the losing ruler makes
b) The honourable way: They may be destroyed by the winning house, root and stem. The losing house will be completely eradicated. The disputed lands will go to the winning house.
If a person's house has been eradicated (i.e. House Reyne), they may claim a new one after 7 days.

6) Expansion

General Guidelines

Because we recognize the reality that houses are going to want to annex unclaimed holdfasts for more land, we are making imperialism to a certain degree allowed.

• YOU CANNOT ANNEX WHOLE COUNTRIES! This doesn't include small islands. We will only allow territories or regions, like Winterfell taking White Harbour.
  
• Small regions are eligible for imperialism, but if your annexation of territory starts to become unreasonable, we will force you to renounce your annexation or just delete your post. Please try to keep it to a reasonable size.
  
• If you claimed a small region at first and want to annex another, message the mods. We will evaluate your request and see if you can take control of another small area.
  
• If you try to claim the entire North, you are going to have a bad time! Be reasonable and realistic, only take over small regions.
  
• Any region that is under the control of a claimed holdfast (read: imperialized) cannot be taken over by someone else.
  
• If you win a war against a house with imperialized territories, the conflict rules apply to the territories as well (refer back to War).
  
• Abandoned/revoked holdfasts belong to the liege lord. If no new player tries to claim them in 3 days, the liege lord is free to give them away. If there's no liege lord, the city/castle will become available in the claim list.
  

How to Imperialize

If you are declaring an annexation, use the tag [EXPANSION]. We will also put a list in the wiki of Annexed Territories. This is how you should go through your annexation:
1) [EXPANSION] House A will be sending delegates over to Holdfast X to discuss fealty.

• Put the proposed terms of your annexation as well as an explanation for it

2) [EXPANSION] Holdfast X has agreed to swear fealty to House A

• Describe any changes to the region annexed.

THANK YOU TO ANYONE WHO FOLLOWS THIS FORMAT, IT MAKES THINGS EASIER FOR THE MODS!

7) Mod-Injected Crises

• Every now and then, because we are bored, we will make up a realistic crisis with a [CRISIS] tag. This can be an economic recession, natural disaster, or a magical threat.
  
• Each faction is encouraged to react to the crisis in the comments. You can say what your house is doing for recovery, if it will provide aid, how it affected you, etc.
  

8) Money

Please just be realistic. We aren't going to place limits because we want you guys to have fun, but if you donate 40 trillion gold dragons then obviously we will not allow it. Be aware of your house's economic situation, and just be realistic.

9) Inactivity

• To make sure houses don't become dormant, we will be enforcing active participation.
  
• TO BE CONSIDERED ACTIVE YOU MUST MAKE AT LEAST ONE [EVENT] PER WEEK
  
• You must also participate in News Days and post your [News] on Sundays
  
• If you fail to do so and it comes to our attention, then you will be given 1 day's notice before we default your house.
  

Let the mods know if you will be away for an extended period of time. If you have sufficient reason for your absence, and give a date when you will be able to return, the above does not apply for that time. Arrangements must also be made by the player regarding the temporary ownership of your holdfast. If these conditions are not met, the house may still be defaulted.
These land combat rules are taken from /essospowers, which we originally took from /westerospowers (the original set has been deleted).

Land Combat Rules

Thanks /Westerospowers for the original draft. This system is in effect as of right now.
Starting a Conflict

1. Normally all conflicts must begin with a [CONFLICT - RALLY] post. This post represents a host bringing their forces together for a fight. Normally at least 12 IRL hours must pass before a commit post is made.
   
2. If the two sides agree, or if a mod makes a ruling, you may skip straight to the commit phase.
   
3. The [CONFLICT - COMMIT] post indicates that the attack has been launched by the poster.
   
4. The mods will then make a [CONFLICT-SCORE] post ASAP. This conflict score post will use the below rules to declare a victor.
   

Fighting the Conflict
We will be using simple 6 sided dies (d6), 3 sided dies (d3), and 5 sided dies (d5) to represent combat. We have a bot perform these rolls. The number of which will be decided like this

1. In our example battle we have the following two sides: Side 1 consists of 1,000 men. Side 2 consists of 500 men.
   
2. Add both sides together to get the full number of troops in the battle, then divide each side's forces by that number to see the percentages. For example, a battle of 1,000 vs. 500 would be 66% and 33% respectively.
   
3. Each side's percentages will be rounded to the nearest 5%, so in this example it would be 65% and 35%. Each side will receive 1d6 for every 10%, any remaining 5% will give a 1d3. In the above example,the Side 1 (65%) force will receive 6d6 + 1d3. Side 2 (35%) will receive 3d6 + 1d3.
   
4. The results of the rolls will be added to create the initial score. The defender during a siege will receive a bonus to the their initial score equal to the defense value of the battle site. In this example, Side 2 will have a defense value of 4. The final result of all modifiers is the Battle Score.
   

Note: Defense bonus is based on the location of the defender and added to the end of the final total
Final = Total of Dice + Bonus
Note: Half the Defense value is added to the total dice sides. So a defense rating of 6 would add 3 making a D6 a D9.
In this example let's assume the following rolls:

• Side 1 (1,000, 65%): 1, 5, 4, 6, 3, 6, +2 (from the 1d3)
• Side 2 (500 , 35%): 3, 6, 6, +1 (from the 1d3), +4 (from defense)
  
• Side 1 Battle Score: 25
  
• Side 2 Battle Score: 20
  

Side 1 wins by 5!
During a battle in the open field this usually means the losing side is routed or retreats. During a siege the battle will continue until either side gives in or runs out of troops.
Note: Tie Goes To the Defender
Determining Casualties
Causalities will be determined as follows:
For the smaller army the average of all d6 rolls will be averaged together (round normally). In the above example that would result in an average of 5 ((6 + 6 + 3) / 3) kill dice for side 2. This determines how many kill dice (d5s) will be rolled for enemy causalities.
For the larger army, the highest d6 rolls equal to the amount of the smaller armies rolls will be averaged. In the above example that would mean the 3 highest (6,6,5) rolls would be averaged together for a result of 5.67, rounded to 6. The larger army (side 1) will roll 6d5 kill dice.
These d5 represent the percentage of causalities the opposing side will suffer. The winner will receive a bonus to their kill results equal to the amount of points they win by (in this example 6).

• Side 1 kill dice results: ( 1, 3, 1, 1, 1, 1) = 8 + 5 (excess battle score) = 13
• Side 2 kill dice results: ( 5, 2, 4, 3, 4) = 18

Those numbers represent how much of the opposing army is out of the fight (dead, injured, or captured). In this battle Side 1 won the battle, but Side 2 was able to cause a higher percentage of causalities.
18% x 1,000 = 180 troops out of the fight
13% x 500 = 65 troops out of the fight
What happens next
In an open field battle, the loser retreats and is run from the field. In a defense, another phase of battle will be run until either side gives in.
The mod running the battle will give a short blurb on what occurs in the fight. For this one, I would say something like:

Despite many casualties, Side 1 was able to get over the city's walls. Side 1 takes the inner side of the walls while Side 2 decides to continue the battle in the city streets.

I think many on this sub are aware that many build websites and content creators caught on the coattails of BG3's success and quickly threw together some builds of questionable quality. Many of those websites improved their BG3 builds over time, and while they may have once been questionable they are now decent or even good. Alcast Builds do not follow this trend. In this post I will go through the first 6 of 12 builds in his "Best Builds Database" and point out the topics I find that are just plain wrong. It is very clear that they have abandoned updating this page, as they still have not selected their best companion builds. But when you Google "BG3 Builds" they are one of the top results so I still think this post is worth calling out their shotty work. My goal is that those who may be led astray by his builds may instead find this post and be made aware that Alcast builds are flawed due to a fundamental misunderstanding of game mechanics.
I take no issue with the fact he does not multiclass. Multiclassing can seem an intimidating hurdle for new players. I can see a lot of value in detailed, single class build discussions for those players who do not want to dabble into multiclassing. But his single class builds are not worth recommending. I am not getting into things like whether his builds cheese elixirs or not, nor am I getting into things like whether Resilient Con is better than War Caster, or whether you should take sharpshooter at level 4 or a later level. I am not going to assume that there are other party members in the group who could cover the bases he is trying to cover, so for example if he recommends a character take the blade ward cantrip then I will not assume there is some mass healing word cleric with whispering promise ring and hellrider's pride gloves, nor will I criticize the usefulness of a full caster character devoting their concentration to blade ward. I am not going to contend with his classifications of wild magic sorc being the best sorc build, or evocation wizard being the best wizard build. I am only going to point out the things that any person with common sense would say are undeniably wrong.

Moon Druid Build

1. Ability scores - This build starts with all even ability scores except for Wisdom, which starts at 17. It then takes ASIs in Wisdom at levels 4 and 8, saying to then put the spare point in Constitution. Alcast's lack of awareness that odd ability scores don't help you is something that will come up in many future builds. For those not aware, this build would be better by just starting with 16 Wis. The extra point in Wis here does absolutely nothing except take away two points that could be put elsewhere in character creation. If he intended for you to take a half feat or use Ethel's hair then maybe he is on to something. But that is not the case. Edit: BG3 does not have any feats or multiclassing requirements where you need odd ability scores. All that matters is your ability modifier, not the ability score (exceptions: initiative ties for Dex and carry weight for Strength). This is an extremely basic concept which Alcast's builds never take into account.
2. Starting cantrips - They recommend shillelagh and thorn whip to start out. These are two cantrips that kinda fill the same roll; short range damage. Most of his gear recommendations are scimitars so shillelagh isn't even usable. Close range damage is also something that your whole wildshaping moon druid identity already fills far better than either of these cantrips. No mention of a ranged cantrip or one of the best cantrips in the game - guidance.
3. Spell Sniper or +2 Con - At level 12 he recommends taking spell sniper. The only spell in the entire writeup that uses an attack roll is thorn whip. That is the only spell that he took the time to recommend that will get a benefit from this feat. Alternatively he recommends putting 2 points in Con if you are struggling to maintain concentration. This will increase your con modifier by 1 and HP by 12. But because at this stage in the build you actually have an odd numbered Con score you could instead take Resilient: Constitution, which will also increase your con modifier by 1, HP by 12, and give you proficiency in Con saves giving you an additional +4 to all those concentration checks as well as any other Constitution Saving Throws.
4. Not mentioning tavern brawler - I am hesitant to bring this up because I hate tavern brawler. It is overpowered and dominated discussion on this sub for too long. I am also hesitant to bring this up because at the time Alcast wrote this guide tavern brawler did not work with wild shape (it still sorta doesn't in honor mode). But fact of the matter is this is one of the best possible feats for a moon druid and it is never mentioned. A top Google result should be better than that.

Lore Bard Build

1. Ability scores - Let the horror begin. This build starts with 4 odd numbered ability scores. Anyone who understands build basics will probably discard anything this entire website has to say as a result of this one sentence. This is insane. At level 4 he says to put +2 in Cha, bringing it up to 18 or 19 "depending on which race you choose." Priority #1 should be getting even numbered ability scores here. But second, races have had flexible ability scores since launch. Your race does not matter for this discussion.
   1. I disagree very strongly with a lot of the race recommendations, recommended gear, the spell sniper feat, and the level 10 magical secrets spells. But his recommendations are not outright flawed or bad. Just leaving this build at one bullet point would make it seem like I don't have much else to criticize. I have a lot of things to criticize and think his straight lore bard build could be a lot better. But it is not undeniably, flat-out incorrect in so many areas as his other builds.

Hunter Ranger Build

1. Wood Half Elf recommendation - He says that wood half elf is basically the same as wood elf but slower. This is wrong. Wood half elf is not slower than wood elf. Also wood elf gets perception proficiency whereas wood half elf does not. Wood elf is mildly better for this build, but not at all for the reason he states.
2. Ability scores - Same issues we've seen before. Starting with 17 in your main stat and not giving a damn about even numbers
3. Natural Explorer - Throughout this guide he discounts the benefits of the damage resistance options granted by natural explorer. Poison and fire damage are rather common in this game, and his dismissiveness of these damage resistances makes no sense.

Shadow Monk Build

1. Strength 10 recommendation - The reason he says not to lower Str below 10 is because this will make it easier for you to be shoved. This is a Dex based build where he recommends proficiency in acrobatics. It will use acrobatics to resist being shoved.
2. Ability scores and feats - This one is a little different. He once again recommends 17 in your main stat. Through sheer dumb luck he happens to recommend taking the Athlete feat at level 4, bringing Dex to 18! I do question the usefulness of the athlete feat on this build but hey, we got to all even ability scores. Then at level 8 he recommends Mobile which is kinda overkill in my opinion on an unarmored monk, but zooming around the battlefield can be fun. So here we are, approaching level 12 with all even ability scores. There is no way he can mess this up, right? Well this is where he recommends putting a +1 into Dex and a +1 into Wis. An absolute total and complete waste. Alcast shared this build on this sub, I pointed out that this was utterly pointless in a comment months and months ago. The issue still persists.
3. The Mighty Cloth - He recommends the mighty cloth in his early game build recommendations. The graceful cloth can be obtained earlier and is outright better by leagues and miles for a Dex based monk. Note: I am not going to hold against him the lack of mentioning tavern brawler. The feat's benefits are limited on a Dex based monk like this. Until he mentions the gauntlets of giant strength in his end game build recommendations, it never makes sense to take this feat on this build.

Great Old One Warlock

1. Race recommendations - I have scratched my head at some of the race recommendations before. This is the one where I finally figured out what is going on. Alcast does not seem to know about race features that get unlocked past first level. It is the only reason I can think of for why he still has yet to recommend Tiefling, even though he has already covered lore bard and now an eldritch blast warlock. The one time he did recommend Tiefling it was for the monk build since the Tieflings get produce flame. And when he recommends Drow he only discusses the first level features. He just doesn't know they get things past first level.
2. Ability scores - Once again starts with 17. And at level 4 he says to bump up Cha by 2 to 19 again. But this time at level 8 he says to take a half feat to bring Cha up to 20!!! Hoorah! Except the half feat is Resilient: Charisma. Let's ignore the fact that Charisma saves are probably the least common saves in this game. Bane and maybe some of Cazador's abilities are the only hostile effects I can think of where you need to make a Cha save. Let's ignore that. Warlocks are already proficient in Cha saves. He could have taken Actor as an amazing half feat here. He could have taken Performer just to get instrument proficiency. But no, he had to take the one Cha half feat that offers absolutely nothing else to this build. I can't make this up, it is embarrassing to tout these builds as high quality.
3. Hellish Rebuke - At level 4 he recommends Hellish Rebuke because it only takes up a first level spell slots, and you supposedly have plenty of those. Except you don't. You don't have any level 1 spell slots. You have 2 spell slots per short rest, and they are both second level. Burning a pact magic slot on Hellish Rebuke is not something to be flippantly disregarded
4. No Hunger of Hadar - I get if you don't want to use the spell. But for a build about an EB spam with repelling blast build, one of the best spells to combo with this is at least worth a mention.
5. Devil's Sight and Darkvision mix up - He says that one should pick devil's sight if their race does not grant Darkvision, because this will stop you from having disadvantage in dark areas. Devil's Sight is more than just Darkvision. It allows you to see through magical darksness. Goes great with that Darkness spell he recommended a few levels ago, or that you would get a free casting of if you went Drow or some Tiefling variants and knew they got the spell at 5th level.
6. Armor or no? - He keeps flip flopping on whether this build will use armor. When starting out he says you'll be wearing light armor. At level 7 he says to take the armor of shadows invocation which he claims increases your AC by 2 (if you are not wearing armor then this increases your AC by 3, and if you are wearing armor then it has no effect). In his gear recommendations sometimes he recommends armor, sometimes not.
7. Cantrip scaling at level 11 - This is a relatively minor issue but he is incorrect. Here he says cantrips scale up again at level 11. That is how it works in tabletop. I don't know why Larian changed this, but in BG3 it is level 10. Maybe he mentioned this in other posts, I am not going to go back and check. It's a small concern but I wanted to point it out.
8. Gear - Everything this build selects during the level up process is focused around Eldritch blast. Yet he keeps mentioning rapier proficiency, gear like gloves of power, etc. I don't want to go too far into this, as a character who focuses on Eldritch blast but uses weapons in a pinch seems fine. But he never really pulls the strings together on this. He recommends the gold wyrmling staff on a character with 10 strength that already has a souped up Eldritch blast. This just feels like a bunch of copy paste with no critical thought.

Battlemaster Fighter Build

1. GWF style - He says GWF only applies to weapons with the two handed property. This is incorrect. It also applies to versatile weapons wielded in two hands. This is a bit of a nuanced topic and a change from tabletop that not many are aware of, so I don't hold it against him too much. But I wanted to point it out.
2. Racial proficiencies - He recommends Githyanki and Gold Dwarf because of the weapon proficiencies they get. Fighter is already proficient in all armor and weapons. Githyanki is my favorite race and anyone who talks bad about Lae'zel is getting banned (/s about the banned part), but this is not a reason to pick these races as a fighter at all. This is day 1 build stuff. I would be embarrassed to have shared such blatantly incorrect info so widely.
3. Acrobatics proficiency - Here he stresses the importance of proficiency in acrobatics to avoid getting shoved around. On a high Str character who following his guide would be proficient in athletics. How did he get this 100% wrong on both his monk and fighter builds?
4. Ability scores...again - If you follow one of his backup recommendations to take toughness at level 12 then things do work themselves out to even numbers. So there is a chance you could end up on a decently planned out build by following his guide.
5. Action surge + extra attack - he says that a level five fighter who action surges can make 3 attacks a turn, and how strong this is. Imagine if he actually played this character or had a basic rule understanding to learn that a level 5 action surging fighter can make 4 attacks a turn. He doesn't comment on action surge on a level 11 fighter but I am sure he would see stars given just how strong he thought 3 attacks a turn at level 5 was.

Conclusion

I could make a post nitpicking any one of his builds in a post as long as this one. But it would be a lot of stuff along the lines of, "You say to use any heavy crossbow on the fighter character, but really this character would be best served by bows that give an increase to initiative." That is not the point of this post. This post is to point out more than just disagreements. It is to point out fundamental misunderstandings on Alcast's part and why I would never recommend one of his builds. If he can't understand proficiencies and ability modifiers, should you trust any part of his builds?

Last night my university appeared on the news.
As I watched the broadcast, listening to my old television set sputter and cough like a used car engine, I swore the temperature plummeted several degrees. The newscaster was still droning on in the background but it could’ve just been static. Meaningless.
It is always the same with this news broadcast. Burned and charred stone and concrete lying around in a pentagon in a way that could make any abstract artist proud. I try, whenever it comes up, to ignore everything scrolling on the screen. Or at the very least, skim through the programme. The less details I remember, the better.
But every time, my eyes are drawn to one tiny thing on the screen. It stands out screaming, a splash of red in an ocean of black. I can’t forget it no matter how hard I try, and it slips into my nightmares and I wake up screaming.
A rune of a blood-stained sword, inked in red and carved neatly in the stone.
“This is our pride and joy,” he nodded, gesturing to a rune of a blood-stained sword. His sunflower name badge read James and he was cute. Tousled hair, playful freckles–the works.
I swear girls swooned when they saw him.
The year was 2004 and I wished fighting over James was the least of our problems. Even now, during orientation week, a great hush fell over our little tour group. Everyone shifted their feet nervously and tied their fingers into knots.
James laughed.
“The stories about Helena Sword? That’s just it. Stories.”
“All the stuff you heard about her before you came here, they’re simply not true. Just something stupid to scare the freshies, that’s all.”
He trailed off in the middle of his speech, staring off into the distance.
“It’s been a thousand years after all…”
He laughed again, but it was as empty as the wind blowing down the halls. He cracked a smile, but his face was pale like the rest of us.
“Anyway,” he said, “the library is just down this hallway too. When our founder, Sir Gallus, founded this place, he sought out books from all over the world…”
As the rest of the tour moved on, I couldn’t help but stay behind. I was no archeologist, but there was something about this rune that would not let me go. I stroked the rune, fascinated by how my fingers crossed tall ridges and tiny valleys. It was very simply carved, almost like a child’s drawing of a sword brought to life, but as I turned to catch up with everyone else, I realised I wasn’t alone.
She was pretty, a girl around my height and build, with striking red curls and a rather long neck, almost like a giraffe. A tattoo poked out behind long blue sleeves, dressed in red ink. The girl turned to me and grinned sheepishly.
“Are you lost?”
I frowned. “Sorry?”
“The tour group moved on without you,” she stated, pointing ahead. Indeed I could hear James’ voice in the distance, rambling on about the portraits in the halls. I looked back at her and she nodded grimly.
“My name is Ginny,” she said, extending her hand. I shook it. It was as cold as ice. In fact, when I looked at her, it was like gazing at an ice sculpture, with frosty eyes and dainty lips.
“It’s my first day here too. Except well…my parents brought me here yesterday. So I know this school inside out. Do you want me to show you around? You don’t need that tour group. Especially since they well…abandoned you.”
My head was suddenly foggy. “Yes, please,” I mumbled.
In spite of her offer, Ginny didn’t say much as we walked through the campus. Didn’t point out anything interesting landmarks or anything like that; didn’t talk much about herself either. Instead we wandered through the grounds, enjoying each other’s company. It was the beginning of autumn, and golden leaves were falling down and the trees looked like they were on fire. Overhead we could hear migrating birds singing. It was lovely.
Eventually we reached my dorm.
And hers.
Ginny was my roommate. I found it strange, since I didn’t recall having a roommate or asking for one; and even if I did, wouldn’t I be informed of it months ago? Someone that I would share my life with for the next three years? But then she looked at me and smiled and all my questions flew out of my head. I mumbled a yes to her offer of assistance and we spent the rest of the afternoon making our dorm look like home.
Then we went down for dinner and were joined in the mess hall by two other girls, Ivy and Cleo, who told us their room would be next door to us. We sat down with our mashed potatoes and roast chicken and they immediately drummed up conversation, talking about their lives before they came to university, what they hoped to achieve during their time here, and everything in between.
“So what are you guys studying?” Ivy asked.
“Psychology,” I said. Helping people has always been a lifelong dream.
“Computer Science,” Ivy and Cleo said at the same time.
We all looked at Ginny. She stared back, completely taken aback by the question.
“Um,” she said, “Computer Science too, I suppose. That’s getting popular, right?”
“Yup,” Ivy mumbled, her head bowed over her mashed potatoes like a broken flower. “Everyone is fighting to get their slice of the Internet these days…”
We continued our meal in silence, the conversation suddenly over. We walked up together, too, and it felt strangely uncomfortable. A dark cloth had fallen over our little group, leaving behind an itch we could never scratch.
Finally we reached our dorms and we looked at each other.
“Well, good night then,” Ivy said. Cleo was already inside and I could hear her brushing her teeth.
“See you at breakfast.”
“Good night,” I said. Ivy nodded and closed the door.
Ginny was already in her bunk, her nose in a book. There was already a stack next to her, as tall as a mountain, and by the glare in her eyes, passionate and intense as fire, it looked like she was going to be reading all night.
“Don't classes start next week?” I asked with a frown.
“Yeah,” Ginny said distractedly. Her eyes were glued to the pages and she was flipping through them so fast her hands were a blur. “Just wanted to get started so I’ll be well-prepared, that’s all.”
She peered down at me, her icy blue eyes fixated on my muddy brown ones. “Go to bed. We have a big day tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I mumbled, and soon I slipped away from the real world for a world of restless dreams.
For some reason, I woke up in the middle of the night.
I got my torch from under the bed and checked the time on my alarm clock. 4am.
Great.
I lay down on my pillow with my eyes open. I strained my ears, listening out for the sounds of nature. Back home there were birds that sang no matter what time it was, porcupines and rats scavenging around our trash, and crickets that performed symphonies that lulled me into slumber.
But out here there was nothing.
Great.
I couldn’t even hear my roomie. I didn’t really peg Ginny as the type who snored, but her bunk felt…empty. I peered upwards and couldn’t make out her shapeless form huddled beneath her blankets. Books were strewn all over her bunk, their pages wide open like the wings of lost paper birds.
I yawned and squeezed my eyes shut. It was too early to do anything and as Ginny said, we had a lot of things to do tomorrow.
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehh!!
It sounded like nails on a chalkboard. Or rather, that of a clawed hand scraping down someone’s flesh, their hooked nails peeling off their skin in strips.
I groaned and smashed my pillow against my ears, but even my fluffy shield did nothing to muffle the loud screeches that rattled from my ears down my spine and to my toes.
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehh!!
I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I wobbled out of bed, clutching the bed frame as the world spun in front of my eyes. I breathed deep as another eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhh screamed in my eardrums, making my hair stand on end.
Then I heard someone scream.
Was that Ginny? An image tore through my mind of my roommate in the corner, slowly strangled by rusty iron chains that curled around her body like venomous snakes. I know I shouldn’t open the door–it is a critical mistake made by so many horror movie heroines–but the thought of Ginny, alone, made my heart shiver.
So I yanked open the door.
There was Ginny, frozen like a popsicle stick. The shadows gathered and morphed into a hooded figure that blanketed her bodice.
Something—someone—slithered towards her, dragging behind a long blade. Eeeeeeeeeeeh
Ginny opened her mouth. Was she screaming?
But no, the silhouette brushed up against her skin and whooshed right past her, disappearing into the dorms. Ginny looked over, saw me screaming, then ran over and knocked me back in the room, locking the door shut.
“Are you okay?” she asked urgently.
I nodded a yes. Everything I felt at that moment couldn’t be put into words. It was dammed somewhere in the back of my throat, fighting to get out.
But I just couldn’t.
“What did you see?”
Nothing. Just nothing. My mind was blank. Everything was a hazy mess zooming around through my neural pathways. I sat down and rubbed my head. The room was spinning out of focus.
I needed to sleep.
“Yeah, sleep tight,” Ginny said kindly, pushing my blanket up to my neck. I curled up like a cooked prawn and breathed in deep. It smelled like home.
“Good night, Ginny,” I mumbled.
“Good night.”
We woke up to a sea of noisy chatter. It sounded like a thousand parrots squawking at the same time.
Eyes closed, mine still hazy, I stretched—and immediately bumped my head against the wooden frame.
Ow.
People were talking—no, shouting. It rang in my ears like a bloodcurdling scream. I groaned and attempted to muffle it with my pillow above my ears. Why do people have to be so goddamn loud?
Finally I gave up and sat up straight, forcing my crusty eyes open. Ginny was already gone, and her nightgown was draped across the top bunk like a country flag. The door was creaking in the wind. It slammed against the wall and came back strong.
Ow
Ginny came back. Without a word she took me by the arm and dragged me out of the room. There was a crowd mulling outside Ivy and Cleo’s dorm and as we passed I could hear snippets of their conversation:
“Dead…”
Ginny marched past them and took me down the stairs and to the mess hall, her eyes staring straight ahead like the world had vanished around her. Then she sat me down on one of the benches, took a sip of water and stared at me, her face white and shaking.
“WHAT?”
Even in the foggy haze of sleep, the bizarreness of the morning and the crowds outside the dorms were getting to me. All I had was questions, and I hated having so many questions.
For the first time since I met her, Ginny’s eyes didn’t meet mine. “So uh, you know the guy leading you around yesterday? When we first met?”
The description scratched my memory, and then I remembered. Tall and lanky, with tousled brown hair, freckles and a charming smile. He had a sunflower lanyard pinned on a checkered shirt–and that badge contained a name.
“James?”
“He…”. Ginny took a deep breath.
“He is dead. They found his body this morning.”
Ginny was still talking but I was barely listening. I only met this boy yesterday but it felt like I knew him forever. I felt like I was being pulled under, my reality torn asunder, everything that I know just…shattering around me.
Dead?
My throat was dry. Closing up. I sounded like a strangled cat.
“Yes,” Ginny confirmed dryly.
I looked at the two empty seats opposite me and that momental wave of dizziness turned into nausea.
“Bathroom,” I said.
Ginny watched me go, unblinking.
I rushed to the first unlocked toilet I found, ignoring the glares of girls already in queue. I gagged and watched my dinner and what little of my breakfast I had eaten swirl down the bowl. Then I flushed and staggered out. Everything was lit up way too bright; the chattering of students heading to their classes was way too loud; and I sat down in the corridor and closed my eyes.
I wasn’t sure how long I was out, because the next thing I knew someone was shaking me awake and helping me on my feet
“Come on,” Ivy said.
Her voice was brittle, her face pale. She was as fragile as stained glass, and she could barely walk herself. We limped together, nearly tripping over each other as we went up the stairs, until we collapsed, tangled between each other in a rope of legs.
That was when I felt something sharp brush across my cheek, drawing blood.
I looked up to see a hooded figure standing above us, wearing black gloves and a cloak made out of human skin. Her eyes were glowing crimson as she raised the sword. Rust gleamed at its sides like dew.
The sword slammed down, nearly missing Ivy’s leg.
We looked at each other, barely breathing, barely a word said between us. Then as if on command we got up and hightailed it back to our dorms. Through the shadows as we ran I could see a girl my age watching.
Her red curls shone in the dark like fire.
Ivy slammed the door behind us and shoved chairs up the edge to boot. I wasn’t sure it could hold a sword slicing through a wooden door but it would have to do.
Ivy sat on the bed and closed her eyes, whispering prayers in her native language. I didn’t feel like talking either
Author's Notes
If I remember correctly, this one is about a student who haunts the university 300ish years after her death. She is a witch, immortal and summoned by touching ruins. Her main weapon is the titular sword and instead of wielding it herself she hypnotises other students to kill for her.
The next scene is Cleo framed for killing James, the first sinister look at her powers of hypnosis.
The ending reveals that Ginny (taken from Ginerva, a romanized version of Queen Guinevre, yes me and JK Rowling had the same line of thinking) and Helena Sword is the same person and hypnotising all the other students. She dies when the narrator burns the school to the ground accidentally while trying to get away, ending the curse and resulting in the ruins at the start of the flashback.

Today we're discussing a fun Burkess jump named Generic Wizard. Have a second link to my past discussion posts.

Items

There's nine items here, so we'll just discuss them one by one.
We start off with a simple, powerful, handy, magic staff. It's an arcane focus and amplifier, and when you send someone to horny jail with it you add your magical power to the force behind the bonk. Nice.
The Great Grimoire is a more complex item, it's a sapient spellbook that is your buddy and can learn any kind of magic used against it in battle, as well as take on a battle form where it becomes a book-humanoid and can wield weapons or use martial arts and unarmed strikes to put the beat down on baddies.
You can opt for a pair of Skyrim-style wizard robes that are comfortable and make magic 25% less costly when you're wearing them.
The next item is a sword for spell-swords that can deflect magic and can serve as a casting focus for magic users, allowing you to fire magical projectiles out of it with ease.
Next we come to a case with components for the crafting of golems and other supernatural body guards.
The next item on the list is the steepled hat, which is the "You can share powers with other peeps" item on this list. You put it on somebody and they can use magic, though only basic magic. If a magical person puts it on it spreads magic throughout the setting, if you wanna spruce up something like Generic Roleplayer, Generic Cubicle, Generic School Years, or the like.
Next up we've got a magic bow that can turn spells and spell effects into arrows and magical beings find this process to be instant and easy. The next item is a fully stocked alchemy lab, perfect for the brewing of potions and the final item is a grand wizard tower with a set of ten two way teleporters.
These items are a lot of fun, though none are (probably) transformative unless you're here early OR you have plans for something like a wizard who uses a lot of arcane intensive magic that costs a lot of energy. Still, some of them (like the components case) can be radical in the right settings, such as going from here to Minecraft (or fusing them) since having easy access to golems can DRAMATICALLY make this setting a lot easier.

Perks

The perks here are a lot of fun. We start off with a freebie that gives you the ability to use magic and a pool of energy perfect for casting said magic with, and you have a single spell for free: a magical projectile you can deal damage with.
There are a range of really neat modifiers to how you DO magic here. My personal favorite is the "Daily Casts" one, as I always love abilities that let you use abilities that cost stuff for free which is KIND OF what this does. This gives you the ability to cast spells a number of times per day using the in-jump equivalent of spell slots. To help illustrate this, let's use the magical projectile spell from earlier as an example. With this you can cast that spell five times a day without it costing you any mana or anything like that, even material components, before you begin to have to pay other resources to use magic. These spell slot like things are separated based on power level and as you grow stronger you gain new slots. This perk is WILD, as this lets you do stuff like cast Wish without expending material resources (a certain number of times a day at least), and lets you save other resources for more valuable causes (like bribes when your "Wishes" go awry). Other handy abilities in this category include the Dramatic and Quick Caster perks, which allow you to complicate your spells in terms of casting times and costs for a boost in power or simplify them (sometimes at the cost of them costing a bit more, if they are complicated enough).
This jump offers a few ways to learn new magic, and I have one that I'm particularly fond of: magical skill tree which is a video-game-like perk that lets you learn new magic by beating up foes, getting "essence" from them, and spending it. You can also select Themed Magic; a perk which lets you give yourself a theme and then snag spells based around it and you'll automatically learn more over time. There are also other methods, though those two are my faves.
This jump has ways of letting you make new friends, be it through a familiar perk, a perk to bring stuff to life (and giving living things new forms), perks to animate stuff, and even the Master and Apprentice perk which lets you summon two magical homies one of whom is a powerful magical master and the other of whom is their plucky apprentice who loves learning. Both are your pals and want you to succeed, throwing their weight behind your efforts.
There is a pair of synergizers here, one which offers boosts to your body based on how half of how good a wizard you are and another which does the reserve, enhancing your magic based on how half of your physique. These perks are GREAT for specialists one way or another who either want to become better warriors (and are excellent magicians) or who want to become better magicians (if you're some sort of physical trainer or professional athlete, or otherwise have a strength build).
Some of the perks here improve your body or mind, granting you new skills like a PHD in chemistry, resistance to mind-based attacks based on your willpower, two separate abilities to tie your health and well-being to magic,
There are other perks worth looking at as well, but seeing as there are multiple pages of perks I just wanted to highlight SOME of them.

General & Concluding Thoughts

There is a lot of fun stuff here. The items are probably not necessary (though some of them may serve as decent objects to own in the beginning of a chain, especially the wizard's tower and the case containing the components for constructs), but the perks are neat. Some of these perks are incredibly good and will serve and follow you for the rest of your chain, such as the two synergizers and the magical skill tree, and the Life & Creation magic perk.
I think this could make an incredibly fun first jump, or as a supplement to one's first adventure jump. It's not radically powerful but it has plenty of stuff that ages with you and a lot of neat tricks you can reliably use to turn the tides of future conflicts. I think this is just a nice, fun jump.

When I was looking through the finished chapter folder today, one was missing, and I got worried that I deleted it on accident. Turns out it was at the top of the folder instead of the bottom, because I put a space in the title that wasn't supposed to be there. So, crisis averted, I guess.
Many thanks to u/SpacePaladin15 for the universe.
Enjoy.
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Chapter 14: Hydrophobic
- Memory Transcription Subject: Meba, Venlil Computer Scientist
Date [Standardized Human Time]: October 20th, 2136
It was comfy.
I wasn’t sure about the whole ‘scarf’ thing, but after finishing it, and putting it on, I actually liked it quite a bit. Finishing it wasn’t even hard, all I had to do was bring the end of the yarn through the last loop and weave in the end, which was a breeze with a little help from Arlene.
She helped me put it on. Apparently, there was a nearly infinite number of ways to wear the garment. Anything from braids, to knots, to wraps, to simply dangling from the neck. It was truly amazing how many ways humans managed to use a simple strip of fabric.
She showed me several different ways to tie it. First only draping it around my neck, then showing me how to do the ‘once around’, next tying a ‘Parisian’ knot, and finally showing me a braided one that was really just a modified version of the Parisian, where instead of bringing both ends through the loop, you only put one through, and then give it a half turn, put the other end in, and repeat until the ends are completely integrated into the braid.
Arlene made a weird squealing noise. “Okay hold on, I need to take a picture of this.” She pulled out her phone and took shots of me from several angles, even pulling the camera right up to my snout at one point, and causing me to flinch.
She turned the phone around to reveal an extremely distorted, and equally unflattering close up of my face. “Everybody loves a fish eye filter.”
I didn’t know what to say. The disrespect was palpable.
“Oh, let me show you a trick.” She undid the braid, taking the scarf and wrapping it around front to back, and bringing the ends back around and down through the loop at the front. Then she took the back part, and brought it over the back of my head in a hood, having a bit of trouble getting it past my wool, and pressing my ears down towards the front of my face. I liked the Parisian better.
“This is really uncomfortable.” My voice sounded muffled with the hood flattening my ears.
“Okay, okay. Just let me get one picture.” She pointed the phone at me again.
Once she was done with her ‘photoshoot’, I took off the scarf. “Is this really that enjoyable for you?”
“Extremely. You have no idea how cute this is. I’ll make one with ear holes for you so you can wear the hood comfortably next time.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever need that much insulation.”
“You never know. What if you go to the night for some reason?”
“Despite my heritage, I don’t have much of a thing for freezing temperatures.”
“Well, it’s up to you. Do you like it?”
I folded up the scarf and put it into my bag. “It’s comfy. Like a hug.”
She smiled. “It looks good on you too.”
My tail wagged of its own accord. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Hold on, let’s get one more picture.” She pulled out her phone again, and crouched next to me to match my height, pointing the camera towards us both. “Smile!”
Flustered, I struggled to make the foreign expression. Arlene put her arm around my shoulder, and took the picture.
“There we go, Dad’s gonna get a kick out of that… once I actually get a way to send it to him.” She tapped away at the screen for a moment. “How much time do we have before we need to leave for dinner?”
“A quarter claw or so.”
“Okay, perfect. Since we have some time…” She smiled. “You wanna learn how to spin thread?”
“Sure.”
Her smile deepened. “Okay okay, come on, let me show you how.” She nearly sprinted over to the spinning wheel.
I followed, though not nearly as eager.
“Sit down.” She ordered, bringing up a chair next to the contraption.
I obliged. Arlene loomed over me, looking even larger while I sat in the wooden seat. A pointless shiver went up my spine.
She brought a little bag of rolags next to the wheel, placing it on the ground, then turning to the wheel.
“It’s already set up, but I’ll redo it so you can see how.” She removed the bobbin from its spot. “Before you start, you need a bit of yarn to start off, so you can attach the new fibers to it.” She tied a loop in the end of the yarn, and slotted the bobbin back in with a clack. “It goes in like this. Then we set the tension, which is how much the bobbin will pull on your side of the yarn. You change it using this little knob down here.” She twisted the knob back and forth a few times for effect. “It should be fine for you, just tell me if it’s pulling too hard.”
I flicked an ear.
“Okay, so we bring the yarn along the hooks here, towards this hole, which is called the orifice. I have a little hook here to pull the yarn through.” She stuck it in, then pulled the yarn back through, and handed it to me.
The yarn was fine; a single strand of wool, though I knew it was actually a tangle of several. As I slid my paw pad along the yarn, it felt slightly fuzzy in my paws, with a few errant hairs struggling to escape.
“Don’t grab it so hard. Try to be firm, but gentle.”
I adjusted my grip. “Better?”
“I wont really know for sure until you start. Let’s try the treadle. You play an instrument?”
“No, why?”
What would music have to do with this?
“Well, just pretend that you do. You need to keep a steady beat so the speed stays constant. Put your foot on the treadle and give it a try.” She smiled.
“Okay then.” I put my paw down, and gave it a push. As the wheel turned, my paw was soon lifted back up from the floor, then reaching the apex of the turn. Instinctively, I pushed down again, and the wheel gained yet more speed. Then, I misplaced my next push, and sent the wheel turning the other way.
A pat on my shoulder. I didn’t realize I was so tense. “Relax, it’s hard at first. Just keep trying. You gotta be gentle with it; you don’t want it to go too fast. You had the right idea before, just let it move your foot, and give it a little tap when needed… oh, and be careful not to let go of the yarn.”
“Uh huh… thanks.” I tried again, paying more attention to my timing now. Keeping the speed consistent was harder than it looked. However, while I didn’t think of myself as more coordinated than the average venlil, I think I was getting the hang of it.
“There ya’ go. That’s pretty good. Can you try changing directions?”
How the brahk am I supposed to do that?
I looked up at her, then back to the wheel, when my concentration faltered.
“Just push down before it goes over the top of the spin. It’s basically what you’re doing now, but in reverse.”
Just keeping it spinning was hard enough. Turning it around? Nope, that wasn’t gonna happen.
“Come on, you can do it.”
Ugh.
I attempted to get it to turn in the other way, to no avail; when I pushed down, it still went over the apex of the turn, and I didn’t take the pressure off fast enough, so it sped up way more than before, throwing me off beat.
“Brahk.” I spat, claws from my free paw digging into my thigh. My face burned with bloom.
The wheel slowed to a crawl, then a stop, lifeless. My eyes fixed on it like hooks to meat.
“Hey, don’t worry, just give it another shot.”
“Y-yeah.” I gave it another push, repeating until it was up to speed. The machine made a gentle whirring as it turned.
I watched the treadle, and the plank that attached it to the wheel. After a few more rotations, I gave it a big push in the other direction, and it slowed greatly. The next rotation, I gave it another push, and it turned around.
“Woo! You did it!”
Arlene’s yelling startled me, and I stopped.
“Let’s get you spinning some thread now.” She gave me a big teeth bearing grin.
I tried not to look at her mouth too hard. “Okay.”
She grabbed a rolag from the pile. “It’s probably best if I just show you.”
“Alright.”
Arlene roughed up the end of the rolag, then she grabbed the yarn from my hand, and looped the fibers around the loop. “Could you start it up again?”
“Yeah.”
Once the wheel was spinning, she slid her fingers down the rolag; the whole thing constricted into a length of yarn, due to the twist.
After it twisted up, she fed it into the orifice, which promptly swallowed it up, and then she repeated the process: thinning out the rolag a bit, sliding the twist in, and feeding it into the machine. She did this 6 times before she ran out of fiber. But that didn’t stop her; she just grabbed another rolag and pressed the feathery end into the yarn, and continued. Three more times, and she stopped.
She motioned for me to stop pedaling. “You get all that?”
I blinked. “It doesn’t look too hard.”
“Let’s get to it then.” She handed me the fibers, and stood back, a thumb pointing up to the sky.
I took them in my paws, and held them in a firm grip, so they wouldn’t come out of my hands when I started pedaling. The wheel came up to speed, blurring slightly. My vision narrowed to the singular point in front of me: the fiber. Heartbeats felt like footsteps in my chest, my breathing slow. I felt the fiber; how it pulled against my paws, the roughness of the strands, the texture of the wool. Drafting a bit of the fibers out, I slid my paw pads along the fiber, to let a little twist into it. It strangled into a single line of yarn. Slowly, carefully, I fed it into the orifice, all while keeping the wheel turning at a reasonable speed. There were bits where the yarn was thicker, and thinner, where I failed to keep the fibers consistent. Particles of dust played in the corner of my vision.
Repeat.
The bumps slid against my paw pads like thorns, though I tried to squish them down. I didn’t know how you were supposed to get rid of them. I pulled along the fiber, feeling the twist rub against me. Another length into the bobbin.
Repeat.
My claws slid along the fibers, twist came in, I fed it into the orifice. Repeat. I drafted more fiber, slid along it, and fed it into the orifice. Repeat. I struggled to pull apart the fibers, so I slowed down the wheel’s speed. Repeat. When I untwisted part of the yarn in my paws, the fiber came apart easier. Repeat. Every now and then, I would grab more yarn from the pile, and attach it to the yarn. My leg burned from the constant motion. Repeat.
Repeat, repeat, repeat,
Instead of hitting wool, my paw struck air. I was out. I sopped pedaling, and the wheel came to a stop.
Arlene struck her hands together in a rhythmic motion. “Good job!” She had moved to the other side of the machine from her original place beside me, and I didn’t even notice. “I was going to show you how to feed the yarn evenly onto the bobbin, but you were so focused I just decided to change the hooks for you. Seriously, you’re a natural; I’ve never seen someone get it so fast.”
My mouth was dry from thirst. How long had I been spinning? I glanced around the room. “W-what time is it?”
Arlene grabbed the end of the fibers from my paws and tied it around an extrusion on the machine. “I think you started about forty minutes ago.” She scratched at her head. “Sorry, that’s uh…”
“So not long?” I asked. My perception of time was completely off. It felt like I had just sat down, though that was obviously not the case.
“Yeah.” She replied. “Wanna take a look at your yarn?”
An ear flick later, and she was humming some Earth tune while removing the bobbing from the spinning wheel, tying off the end of the fiber in an overhand knot to keep it from unraveling. After a moment of inspection, she passed the bobbin to me.
“It’s damn good work for your first time.” She said bluntly.
I ran a paw along the bundled yarn. “There’s a bunch of bumps.”
“Come on, I didn’t even show you how to control the thickness yet. You should be proud.” Arlene ordered, with a slap on the back that struck a cough out of me.
She was just being nice, I knew. Arlene was like that; she would probably praise me even if I somehow managed to destroy the wheel. Yet, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit happy about it. I made this. I was holding it in my own two paws.
“Thanks.” I tried to smile.
“Aw, you’re welcome.” Arlene smiled back. It was warm.
“We should get going, or we’ll be late.” I said, handing her the bobbin back.
“Sure, give me a sec.” She replied, grabbing a pocket umbrella from the other room. I considered the claim that humans could smell rain before it started dubious at best. Though, it might have been a good idea to check the weather report.
---
I should have listened.
So much rain, and that’s not even mentioning the wind. Anything that wasn’t blown away was pummeled, including us. We huddled under the singular human umbrella, which was wholly insufficient to shield us from the raindrops. We were shuffling towards the restaurant at a painfully slow pace, Arlene unbuttoning her coat to drape its hydrophobic veil around the both of us. From the outside, we probably looked like a horrid chimera of venlil and human, with tough stitched skin, stretching under powerful muscles. It’s a good thing we didn’t have to worry about other pedestrians. It was too late to go back now.
Arlene said something, but I couldn’t hear it over the rain and the wind.
“What?!” I asked.
“I said! Are we close!?” She yelled in response.
“What?!”
She brought the coat around our heads to shield from the wind. “Are we almost there?!”
“Almost!” I said, throat scratchy.
On the horizon—no, it wasn’t the horizon, it was just the edge of our vision in the wet hell we were trapped in—a spattering of warm neon lights shot through the endless layers of water like a photon cannon, while each speck of liquid reflected the shiny oasis, beckoning us closer with promises of warmth and comfort. Arlene slipped on a puddle, her boots caked thick with mud, the rubber treads no longer providing traction. I helped her to steady herself, and almost fell myself.
I saw movement in the window of the establishment, the details of which I couldn’t place. A drop of rain charged straight into my eye, and I lost focus.
There was a small awning above the door, but it didn’t do much to help against the rain, completely useless against the nearly sideways path of the water. Though, at least we weren’t completely soaked. Arlene’s coat was a boon I couldn’t have predicted. I was beginning to see the appeal of human apparel; I couldn’t imagine traveling through such weather with just my wool, or, stars forbid, nothing but skin. Though, that wouldn’t stop my brain from trying.
The rain like gunfire, wind stinging like nettles, piercing right through your insignificant form. Bones rattling with imminent death, breath frozen in the lungs.
We both wiped our feet on the doormat, which was as soaked as everything else. Arlene heaved the door open with excessive force, completely void of concern for the reaction of those inside the building, which was… sub-optimal, to say the least.
I had not yet noticed what an expensive place it was, but as soon as I spotted the two waitstaff near the entrance, I couldn’t help but say a prayer for my wallet, and our survival. Both of them nearly jumped out of their wool as soon as we entered, and almost immediately after, the more confident of the two stepped forward to shove us right back out the doors.
“Get out, get out! You’ll scare the patrons!” He hissed, below the chatter of the dining area.
“We’re not going back into the storm.” Arlene informed him.
“Oh yes you are, human.” The waitstaff corrected.
“We do not serve predators in this establishment.” The second educated further.
You’re not going to let them speak to her like that, are you?
I flicked my tail in disgust, and my voice bounded forth with unprecedented spirit. “Are you brahking dense? You can’t refuse service because she’s human.”
“What a farce. Do you seriously expect the exterminators to comply with that drivel?” The first questioned.
“Who in their right mind would let a blood thirsty animal into a place for eating? Do you want to get someone killed? Or are you just as mad?” Reiterated the second.
“What the fuck did you just say?” I inquired calmly.
Arlene grabbed me by the shoulders. “Hey, calm down. They’re just doing their jobs.”
Jobs? What do jobs have to do with this?
“You must be some sort of mad if you think we’re going back into that storm.” I explained.
The first waitstaff sighed. “Do you even have a reservation?”
“Of course we do!” I pulled my datapad out from its pocket. It wouldn’t turn on.
“What’s wrong?” Arlene asked.
“The rain killed it.” I replied.
“No reservation? I figured.” Said the first waitstaff, with an extremely punchable look on his face. “Then, if you please. Get. Out.”
“Now hold on just a second,” Arlene said, with palms raised in some sort of odd threat display. “it’s murder out there. Won’t you let us stay at least until the rain lets up?”
“Most certainly not.” Said the first.
“Not a chance.” Echoed the second.
“Look, I’m sorry about my friend, he’s on edge because of the storm. We won’t be long, just until it’s safe to leave.” She pleaded.
Some of the people dining noticed the commotion at the door, and more than a few shot sidelong glances at us. Gusts of wind blew against the door, shaking it against the little foyer we were standing in.
As the waitstaff were about to give their rebuttal, I spotted a familiar coat near the back of the dining room, ducking out from behind a covered booth. A small figure, with sandy fur, and a look of endless confidence on his face: Gram. He made his way towards the entrance, stopped a few paces from the foyer, rubbed his eyes, pinched himself, rubbed his eyes again, and then hid a deranged snicker behind his paw.
“H-hey Meba.” He let out a muffled giggle. “Doormen giving you trouble?”
I rolled my eyes.
Gram addressed the waitstaff. “Don’t worry, he’s with me.”

I see a lot of posts of lonely ppl who want friends. As someone who has consciously taught myself social skills, now makes friends easily, and has maintained deep bonds over decades, I feel qualified to share what I’ve learned. I’ll warn you, tough love and even tougher truths are part of this. If you find yourself arguing, but don’t have friends yourself, ask yourself where that resistance comes from. Don’t direct it at me; take some time to journal and sit with it. This is part of the journey.
I have a lot of info so I’m breaking this into parts. I’m naturally pedantic and have a lot to share. I will do my best to keep it as concentrated as possible but be warned: this will be wordy with no TLDR.
The first part of making friends starts with your physical self. Humans are primarily visual creatures(all genders) and how we present ourselves is the first invitation or hurdle to interacting with ppl.

1. Hygiene: daily showering is a non-negotiable. You can rot on your own time in your own house. If you are going to be a part of society you need to wrangle your body smells so that ppl aren’t offended by your very presence. This is the first tough truth: no one wants to be friends with a smelly person. Use soap and a washcloth, stay away from those plastic nightmare loofahs. Wash every nook, cranny, divet, and crevices. Wash your booty hole and genitals. Change your washcloth daily (wash a$$ last) or use a separate one for your butt. Wash your sheets, pillowcases, towels, robes, and floor mat once a week. Wear deodorant (no, body sprays aren’t deodorant) daily. Some of us are extra stinky due to “stress sweat” aka apocrine glands and this is a common physical side effect of an overtaxed nervous system. Extra stinky ppl need to touch up their armpits with a disinfectant wipe and reapplication of deodorant; lunch time is great for this. Brush your teeth upon waking, after drinking coffee, and after eating. No, gum and mouthwash are only temporary, they aren’t good enough. You still have bad breath. Drinking coffee wo brushing in the morning leads to that extra stinky breath that smells like death. Don’t be that person. Floss once a day. When washing hair, use shampoo and focus on the scalp more than the hair. If you can’t feel the lather on every centimeter, add more to those spots or you will still stink. Most ppl need to wash it twice if they don’t shampoo everyday. Shorter hair, thinning hair, and fine hair need to be washed more often, sometimes daily. We can smell your scalp from far away. Keep your nails trimmed or neatly filed. I’ve had to school multiple men in my life on how raggedy their nails are. Don’t just grow them out until they break off. Keep them short unless you have the time and desire to file and shape them at least once a week. Wash your hands every time you use the bathroom. I don’t care if you didn’t touch yourself, that’s not the point. Ppl notice. Also wash your hands when you’re alone and at home, seriously it’s not that hard. How are you going to want friendship if you don’t value them enough to keep them safe and sanitary? Trim your toenails and stay abreast of how your feet smell. If you have smelly feet you probably have athletes foot. Sprays are an easy way to treat this. If you still have stinky feet after this, keep a change of socks with you so if you go to a no shoes house, you aren’t making ppl sick. Wash inner clothes like shirts and underwear after every wear. Sweat shirts and jeans can often be worn a few times before needing to be washed but smell the armpits and ass, and check for stains before you put them on.

Don’t proceed further until you can adhere to these standards at least when you’re in public. If you’re in a depression and can’t maintain these, stay at home until you can. If you don’t have the energy to bathe and be clean, you don’t have the energy for friends.

1. Grooming. This about looking neat and together. Humans are visual creatures, we judge others based on their looks. I’m not talking skinny/fat, ugly/pretty. I mean that if you look like your life is rough, ppl aren’t going to want to get involved with that. We have our own issues and struggles, we don’t want to add someone to our lives that looks like they are on the brink of a meltdown. Brush your hair and teeth before you leave the house. This is my bare minimum. Curly hair is different but my wavy hair needs to be brushed the same as straight. Combing is also acceptable. Keep an eye on your dandruff. If you have it, treat it. There are many otc options. At the very least shake it out and don’t wear dark colors until it’s fixed. Make sure you don’t have eye crusties, mouth corner goop, or boogers. If you’re showering these are usually not an issue but check for these a few times a day. I don’t iron my clothes but many ppl associate wrinkles with poor grooming. Consider getting a handheld steamer. I personally fold my clothes kon-marie style or hang them and that’s good enough for me. Keep your shoes clean. Lots of people are taught to judge other by the state of their shoes. Notice how many ppl look at your shoes the first time you meet. Wash the white laces regularly, polish and condition leather. Patent shoes are super hard to keep scuff free so avoid them if you are prone to scuffs or dragging your feet. My shoes come untied so I double knot my laces to avoid looking sloppy. Replace buttons and ask a dry cleaner to repair any holes or tears. Relegate worn out and stained clothes to lounge wear.
   
2. Posture. Your posture says so much about you. A relaxed and tall posture says you’re confident and easy going. The type of person we all want to be friends with. Forward head means life has beaten you down. Rounded shoulders says you’ve been hurt but haven’t healed. Collapsed chest says you’ve given up. Lordosis means your core body and core self are weak. Stand with your feet an inch or two from the wall and stand naturally. Your head and most of your spine should touch. If it doesn’t you have work to do. You can’t just force yourself to stand up straight. Your muscles have stretched and atrophied to accommodate this unnatural stance, you will need to rehab your body over weeks and months to regain proper function. Research and watch videos on strengthening postural muscles. My fave that’s easy to explain: when you’re at the wall checking your posture, bend your knees slowly until you can press your spine and back of head into the wall. Stay there for a moment and feel it. That’s the proper position of your pelvis; posture comes from pelvic position not our chest, shoulders, or back. Now clench your ab muscles, they might be weak or non existent. These are the muscles that need to be strengthened. Hold those muscles tight and try to straighten your knees while maintaining that pelvic position. Breathe and hold for 30 seconds. If you can’t do 30 start with 10. Do this every time you go to the bathroom, not necessarily in the bathroom but by tying it to an inevitable part of your day you have a better chance of being consistent.
   
3. Body language. Like posture, we communicate much more than we realize with our bodies. How we walk, sit, fidget, etc telegraphs nonverbal messages to those around us. Many ppl are very dissociated with their daily movements. Take some time to notice how you walk. Do you drag your feet? How would someone describe your walk? Do you schlep, shuffle, scurry? Or do you glide, prance, or stalk? I love to drag my feet and do this at home in my slippers. But in public I am more conscious of how I walk. This is much harder for me to explain. My main tip is to watch out for small, jerky, fast movments, like fidgeting and scurrying. These are prey movements and relegate us to an undesirable social standing: prey. Think of how a mouse moves: small, jerky quick movements. Now think of a panther. Every movement is intentional and controlled, smooth, slow. Go on walks if you are able bodied and start to notice how you move. Notice how those around you move. Which ones seem confident to you and which ones are off putting. Same with sitting. Do your best to sit up straight rather than completely melting into the chair. Don’t “throw” yourself onto someone’s furniture, use your legs to lower yourself down. When listening do your best to keep movements to a minimum. Breathing slowly and deep helps with this. I use my hands to talk when I’m excited and don’t see this as a problem.
   
4. Eye contact. Eye contact is very important but it also varies by culture. This will be regarding western/American culture. Eye contact used to be difficult for me. I now have an engaged and sometimes intense gaze. It’s more important to maintain eye contact when listening, not as important when talking. You don’t have to laser focus, break your gaze regularly to take in the other person’s movements and body language, look briefly at other parts of their face, lower your gaze, glance at the room. But don’t stray for too long, wandering gaze makes ppl feel like you aren’t listening and ppl don’t want to engage with bad listeners. Don’t look at breasts or genitals. Once you’re comfortable with someone you can look away much more or sometimes even look at other things while you listen. But in the beginning you are building trust.
   

Extra credit: cultivate your personal style. This is optional but supremely helpful. A pleasing physical appearance can garner compliments which is a great way to start conversations. It can also connect us with like minded individuals or show our place in a culture or subculture. Hair is one of the best ways to customize your appearance: cut, color, and style are all options. If you choose long hair, make sure you understand that long hair is a hobby; it takes tons of time and effort to maintain. Not to mention the research and trial and error to find products. Especially men who want long hair, make sure you are up for keeping it clean and neat. You will need to still keep it trimmed, learn to part your hair, learn to tie it back neatly, keep it from looking greasy, etc. if it’s thinning, it’s more flattering to keep it short. if you have curls you will need to learn different techniques that take even more time and effort. Same with vivid colors: they take so much time and money to maintain. Go for it if you have taken time to understand the upkeep.
For clothing, any style works. If you have zero idea how to build a wardrobe choose one dark neutral (black, charcoal grey, navy, or chocolate brown), choose one light neutral (white, ivory, light grey, beige), and one medium neutral (olive green, khaki, camel, mid grey, rust, beige). Only choose one of each and preferably ones that look nice on you. From now on only buy clothes in these shades. Focus on getting your basic covered before you choose colors: tshirts, sweaters, sweatshirts jeans, slacks, jacket, coat. There are so many options and it’s a great opportunity to get to know yourself. Do you like graphic Ts or plain? V neck or crew? Do you like sweatshirts that zip? Do you like hoods? For sweaters: turtlenecks, cardigans, pullovers, or quarter zips? Wool coats or puffers? Leather or denim jackets? Enjoy each detail you learn about yourself. Once your basics are covered, choose two colors. Then try to only get stuff in those colors. My pallet when I was blonde was: black, ivory, and beige with red or blush pink. Now that I’m my natural color it’s: navy, grey, ivory with sky blue or forest green. By putting limiting your colors, everything matches and you always look put together. Accessories are where your personality can really shine: loud sneakers, big belt buckles, unique watches, rings, necklaces, hats or caps, scarves, bags. There are so many ways to express yourself. Keep your accessories to your chosen colors at first. Once you have figured out your style and built up a wardrobe that works, you can add more colors and pizazz.

I am not the OOP. The OOP is u/SRBias posting in relationship_advice
Ongoing as per OOP
1 update - Long
Original - 10th May 2024
Update - 13th May 2024
​
I (50 M) just learned my spouse (47 F) was unfaithful years ago in marriage. She came clean from guilt. Where do I go from here?
​
This will be quite a lengthy read because I'm laying out everything to get honest opinions with all the context. There's a TLDR at the end for those who'd rather skip the backstory. I know that most people go incognito with a throwaway account for this kind of post. But I wanted this to be authentic, using my real account. I didn't want anyone to think this was disingenuous. If we know each other in real life or you find me on my other socials, let's keep our chats here or in PMs. I don't want anyone harassing anybody, and I have a sixteen-year-old daughter who has been spared this drama so far.
I tied the knot shortly after high school, and let's just say, if my marriage were a collegiate course, it would be "F*** Up - 101." It was a masterclass in what not to do, featuring every red flag in the book. I was fresh-faced and barely off on my life journey, thinking I'd hit the jackpot. I'd assumed I'd accomplished what my parents did, that being the poster couple for marital bliss. I was so naive, always giving the benefit of the doubt. Meanwhile, my then-wife, fresh from escaping her parental fortress of solitude, went bat s*** crazy, deciding that 'living life to the fullest' didn't include me in the picture.
Before I knew it, I was Mr. Mom with our toddler while she was trapped underneath a few individuals, making up for lost time. After finally catching her in the act, I filed for a divorce and braced for the impact. Divorcing in '97 in the heart of the bible belt was not favorable towards the husband back then. What followed was straight out of a horror movie. I paid my attorney five thousand dollars to watch her take everything from my guitars and video games. She even claimed keepsakes from a departed relative, and the judge seemed happy to grant her every wish. Not only did I bid farewell to everything I owned, but my time with my son got slashed to a mere Wednesday afternoon and alternating weekends.
My faith in women was broken. I went on a few dates here and there but mostly kept it to casual encounters and dinners. I never let anyone get too close. But, in early 1999, at a friend's birthday party, I met a woman whose marriage had crashed harder than mine. She'd had a stillbirth six months into her pregnancy, and her husband dared to bring his girlfriend to the funeral. She was heartbroken, to say the least, to learn about her husband's affair and the end of her marriage on the day they laid her daughter to rest. We sat on a couch that night, swapping tales of romantic ruin. She was clever, and to me, that is an instant connection. It's rare for me to find someone who makes me laugh instead of vice versa. As I headed home, I couldn't shake her from my thoughts, kicking myself for not asking for her number.
The next, my phone rang, and it was her! She'd gotten my phone number from someone we both knew and asked: "Would you like to get food sometime?" I said, "Now sounds great!" So, I drove to her grandmother's house, and off we went on what turned out to be what I still consider the perfect date. Now, I get it; we were both lonely and had our hearts broken, but trust me, this was no spark; it was an inferno. And believe it or not, we've been inseparable since that day. We have not spent a night apart. That was twenty-five years ago, with us marrying a year after our meeting. Go ahead and facepalm, I know how it sounds, but it's hard to put the connection between us into words. Even I'm still shaking my head in disbelief.
Our families adored the two of us together. I was certain I had found my soulmate, if you believe in that, and I was certain she felt the same. We enjoyed each other's company, and our lives meshed perfectly. As with life, however, it finds those moments of bliss to take a giant s*** on you. In 2006, I began feeling ill; eating resulted in violent illness, which I initially thought was a virus. But after a week with no improvement, it was clear this was something else. I was admitted to the local hospital and underwent numerous tests. When I was first admitted, I weighed 222 pounds at a height of 6'2". Within a year, I had dropped to 146 pounds, and my condition dumbfounded the doctors. My health was deteriorating rapidly. Throughout the ordeal, she never left my side, her hand in mine, begging me not to leave her.
In late 2007, a last-ditch effort sent me to the Cleveland Clinic, where a young doctor rushed me into surgery. When I awoke three hours later, she was there, hand in mine, with a smile. It was a success; I was cured. While I'll spare you the details, it involved my colon. Finally, I could eat and move without agony. My life resumed, and we were happy again. The following year, she received a lucrative job offer in her field, earning more than I did. That didn't bother me at all; she worked hard, and she'd earned it.
After her miscarriage, my wife was unable to conceive. We had been trying since 2000 and eventually came to terms with the fact that it might not happen. In 2010, we got a call from the state of Minnesota about a two-year-old girl who had been taken from her mother due to drug-related charges. They asked if we would consider adopting her because the mother had requested she be placed with family members before her parental rights were terminated. My wife and I drove for 30 hours to meet her, and after a few months, we adopted her and welcomed her into our home.
Our daughter faced social challenges and had endured abuse, leading the two of us to decide one of us needed to be at home with her. As mentioned, my wife earned significantly more, so it made sense for me to be the one to step into the role. I dedicated each day to supporting our daughter's mental health. While I played a part, I can't claim all the credit for this; her preschool, kindergarten, and therapist were instrumental in her learning to socialize and trust again. Eventually, I took up freelance journalism, so I was home when our little one finished her school day.
Our evenings were family time, and we took small trips on weekends. It was in 2017 that my wife returned from work one evening, deeply shaken by what she told me was a workplace argument. Despite my attempts to console her, she remained incorrigible. She was declaring her intent to find a new job. She'd never had any issues before, so I was stunned. For days, she was a mess and withdrawn. When I pressed for details, she'd say, "It would only upset you. Let me deal with it."
True to her word, she left for a new company within a week, accepting a 15 percent reduction in pay. I should have questioned it then, but she never gave me cause for concern. Once she began her new role, life returned to normal, and our family happily moved forward. In 2022, I published my first novel with an independent publisher, fulfilling a lifelong dream. I could sense the pride emanating from both my wife and daughter. I had achieved this milestone before my fiftieth birthday, and I couldn't wait to start on my second one.
And now, ladies and gentlemen, this is where my world breaks. In 2023, as I was finishing up my new novel, my twenty-seven-year-old son from my first marriage died suddenly of a heart attack. He had an underlying condition that none of us knew about. I want everyone to understand that when you say, "I couldn't imagine my child dying," you truly can't. There is no pain quite like it. My wife and daughter, who also felt his loss deeply, did their best to support me. But there is no way to deal with such a tragedy. In the months following his death, I immersed myself in my work, striving to complete my second book for him.
On the day I finished it in January, my father passed away after a long battle. Dad had been ill for a long time. You think you can prepare yourself for that, but that's a lie you tell yourself. The loss was hard, and my daughter was instrumental in getting me back on my feet. My second book was released in February, and I tried to smile as I had my release party. At the beginning of April, I started feeling better, writing outlines for my third novel and doing the same things I'd always done with my wife and daughter.
My wife and I have a Wednesday tradition where she picks a random recipe she finds online, and we cook it together. On April 3rd, while making crockpot chicken tacos, I thanked her for everything. She asked why, and I thanked her for everything she'd done to get me through the tough times. I shared a lot of pent-up emotions, telling her I couldn't have managed without her. She started crying, then weeping, and soon she was sobbing uncontrollably. I tried to comfort her with a hug, but she pushed me away. I apologized, not realizing my words would stir such a reaction.
Suddenly, she confesses her infidelity. I laughed, mistaking it for a joke. She grabs my shoulders and then details how, back in 2017, a 28-year-old at her former job started flirting with her, and she reciprocated. She believed it was innocent, yet it persisted. My wife has always feared growing old. Her birthdays were days she dreaded every year. She admitted that the attention from a younger man was exhilarating. She told me that turning 40 had sent her into a tailspin and that she couldn't talk to me about it because I would have just shrugged it off.
He invited her to leave work early and come to his place one day. She couldn't understand why she chose to; maybe it was the thrill. She said she didn't know, but she went and ended up sleeping with him. Afterward, she felt terrible, glaring at her keychain in his driveway because it had a photo of me holding our daughter. She drove home, and that's when she lied about having a workplace argument. She never wanted to return there. It's why she suddenly went somewhere else. She then told me she wanted to tell me but didn't have the fortitude to do it.
I remained silent, just wide-eyed and open-mouthed. She apologized, saying she couldn't live with it any longer. I just shook my head, unable to speak a single word. She offered to leave if that's what I wanted, to attend counseling, or even to beg for my forgiveness. Instead, I picked up my AirPods and phone and walked out. I wandered from six in the evening until almost eleven that night. When I returned, she was on the loveseat, asking if I was ready to talk. I shook my head again, went to my office, where I had a couch, and slept there.
The next day, after our daughter left for school, she asked if I had anything to say. I said yes. I questioned why she brought this up after the worst year of my life. Why couldn't she have kept it to herself until I could somewhat deal with something of this magnitude? She just looked away. I scoffed and told her to go to work and to try not to f*** anyone during her lunch break. That would have been April 4th; those were the last words I said to her until last night.
She had attempted to talk to me several times, but I would just walk past her into my office, trying to focus on my upcoming science fiction comedy book. Writing something funny is challenging when the thought of your spouse rolling around with another man stuck in her consumes your thoughts. A week ago, my daughter asked in the car if everything was okay, and I lied to her, which made me feel sick. Then, last night, my wife came to the office door and asked, "Are we getting a divorce?" I looked at her and replied, "Looks like it." She started crying and closed the door.
I haven't consulted an attorney, and the thought of divorce hadn't crossed my mind until she mentioned it. That's why I wrote this essay. Where do I go from here? How do I start to untangle this mess? I have no desire for therapy. I don't even want to step outside. I'm broken at this moment. The burden of everything has been overwhelming. There's been so much to bear this past year. What do you say to someone who has been by your side through it all, only to tear your heart apart?
Thank you for reading to the end. And for those who are part of the TLDR crowd, my wife decided to go home with a younger man, felt guilty about it, and quit her job. She waited eight years to tell me about it.
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Comments
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Foreign_Flight4566
Jesus, man. I’m sorry for your loss(es). Timing of your wife’s confession is mind-boggling. Realistically, this is above Reddit’s pay grade. I’ll recommend therapy, but probably above a therapist’s pay grade too. I know you also state you don’t want therapy, but that sounds like the exact time you need it. They can offer grief support, which is what you’ll need as you tease out emotions from losing loved ones and a very nasty betrayal. I hope you find happiness in whatever you decide.

OOP: I contemplated several different subs and I have no idea why I chose this one. I should have clarified above that after my son died, local hospice house around here has grief counseling, which I used extensively. I don't want to do couple's counseling is what I should have said. My apologies. I posted this to try and get outside perspectives from people, and maybe give me a different angle to look at this.

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cakivalue
Not couples counseling but individual therapy for you. You need the support right now after all you've been through and an unbiased third party to support you through the pain and demise of your marriage, next steps and co-parenting.
My unprofessional angle here is that this is most likely over. Had she come clean in 2017 you would have been able to make a choice regarding forgiveness, couples therapy etc. she held on to this secret for seven years and then dumped it on you at the worst time in order to ease her own guilty feelings. Especially knowing that you had both been hurt in this exact way in the past is especially jaw dropping that she did all of this.
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Magnum_tv
Fuck man! This is...just fuck...
Firstly, I'm so sorry for your losses. I extend my sincere condolences.
You need grief counseling. This would help you put things in perspective. At least you'll be able to eventually make decisions based on logic than just pure emotion.
Secondly, your spouse. She not only betrayed you, she lied to you for eight years. EIGHT YEARS! That's fucking scary, because now you're gonna be wondering what else she can be hiding.
Now I'm an asshole, I'd be out of that marriage tomorrow. You however, have truly built a life with her. If, and I mean a big fucking IF, she's regretful, you should divorce, it would be less stress in your life having to be her warden. Because the trust is gone.
If, she's remorseful, you could try to work it out. But she needs to put in the work. Not you, HER. Because she's the one who fucked up.
Remember, regret and remorse are two completely different things.
I'd recommend you still talk to a lawyer before making a final decision. The more informed you are, the better choice you'll be able to make.
I'm truly sorry you're dealing with this, best of luck brother.

OOP: Thank you so much. This is another thing in the back of my mind what else has she been dishonest about?

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Update - 3 days later
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UPDATE - After spending Saturday morning formulating and reading the staggering number of comments, I've made my decision. Some said my issue was far beyond the Reddit pay grade – they were mistaken. I deliberately avoided turning to family and friends, seeking a view from an outside perspective, and I think it worked. My gratitude goes out to all who sent private messages and responded; your thoughts on the matter helped me come to my conclusion.
On Saturday evening, I approached my wife to apologize for the silent treatment, I told her I wasn't attempting to punish her and acknowledged that it was childish. I told her if I would have opened my mouth, I would have been overly harsh and ruined any opportunity of a civil conversation. I promised we'd discuss it the next day.
On Sunday evening, I let it all out; I didn't cry, or raise my voice. I asked the man's name, which she provided. I asked her if the man was married when she betrayed us, and she confirmed he was. That hit me hard, because she knew he was also with someone. I asked if he was still married. She told me she had no clue, she hadn't seen him since the day she left for her new job. I told her I hoped they were, because I was going to make sure she knew. If my life had to be ripped apart, so would his. I thought that would get a rise out of her, it didn't. She just nodded.
I expressed my doubts about the affair being an isolated event, echoing the comments of several others. She maintained it was a one-off and was the sole reason she left her job. I explained that after eight years of this lie, it's natural for me to question anything she said. I then made it clear that if there's more to the story than what she's admitted, now is the time to be as open and honest as possible.
Any further revelations would be a deal-breaker for me, and there would be no excuse that could rectify it. She pleaded it was a singular occurrence and that she's been wanting to confess since it happened. I asked if he had reached out after her departure, she denied any contact. I responded that it didn't surprise me, assuming he got what he wanted and moved on to another person at work. It was the only cheap shot I threw.
I requested that she leave the house for a few weeks, I wasn't telling her it was over, but I wanted to be away from her. I suggested she could stay with her sister, her mother, or even rent a place—anywhere but here. I also informed her of my intention to discuss the situation with our daughter, who is 16 by the way, some people have commented believing her to be quite younger. To my surprise, my wife revealed she had already told her about a week ago, which I was completely unaware of. She inquired about the tone of the house, and my anger, and my wife confessed to her. Before my daughter went to bed, I asked her, and indeed, my wife had admitted that she had been unfaithful. I wanted to know why she hadn't come to me about it, and she told me she didn't want to make me feel worse.
I've decided to keep her home from school tomorrow to have a heart-to-heart about everything. It's important for me to understand her feelings and to emphasize that harboring hatred towards her mother isn't the goal. Her mother has always been loving and supportive. It's natural for her to feel angry, and that's okay, but picking sides isn't beneficial – nobody wins in this situation. It's a tough reality I'm coming to terms with, everyone loses. Tomorrow, I plan to contact three local therapists and reach out to the grief counselor I met after my son's death. I'm not interested in couple's therapy; I believe individual therapy is what I need, and since it's highly recommended, I'm going to pursue it.
My daughter's school year is ending soon, and I'm looking forward to spending quality time with her. I prefer to keep our plans private from family and friends; it's our personal matter. Someone advised me about controlling the narrative, but the only thing that matters now is that my daughter knows the truth. I need some time to come to terms if this relationship is salvageable. I need this time for self-reflection and to assess the situation. When she asked if we were going the route of legal separation, I clarified that it wasn't the case. I told her that when I look at her it brings up feelings of anger, which isn't healthy.
To my astonishment, she consented to everything. She doesn't want our relationship to end, and I reminded her that her actions with him forfeited that choice to me. She mentioned my wedding ring as a sign that she still matters to me, and I assured her that she does. I proposed we conclude things there. As I walked by, I touched her shoulder; she nodded in agreement. Later, she phoned her sister and made plans to stay with her the following evening after work.
TLDR. I want to express my gratitude to everyone for their support and guidance, except to the asshole that just wanted to pick a fight. I apologize for the length of my initial post; I believed the full context was necessary to help you understand why I'm so conflicted. To those who reached out privately and know my identity, your discretion is deeply appreciated. I'm looking forward to spending the next month with my daughter and starting therapy. Your messages are welcome, and I'll do my best to respond to each one. I'll provide another update in the future when I've made a decision about our next steps or if it's time to move on. I am not rushing into this decision lightly.
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Comments
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Bolt_McHardsteel
Clearly you have given this a lot of thought, and come up with a way forward that is best for you. Good luck in therapy, get yourself mentally right, there is no rush to make a final decision on your marriage. Take good care of your daughter! She seems like an amazing kid. Hang in there.
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