So to gather more information and build confidence in previous hypothesis/assumptions, I'm running the test bigger and bettemore granular. Though the sample size is still small, with hopefully repeated tests in the future, we can get some good learnings out of them. Speaking of learnings, based on the current findings; I am rather surprised by the results. Previously, I was lead to believe based on the testing that there was indeed a weighting, but test #2 seems to display otherwise. On with the numbers...
The testing was done with a lvl 100 rogue, 100 lvl 925 gauntlets, max temper rank, 600 straight attempts tempers. The available tempers include Critical Strike Damage (CSD), Markmanship Damage (MMD), Marksmanship Critical Strike Chance(MMCS), and Rain of Arrows damage(RoA).
In 600 attempts, the follow appeared X number of times:
CSD: 143
MMD: 159
MMCS: 150
RoA: 148
The ratio is quite different from the previous test where the distribution was about 20%/25%/ 25%/30% or (55,77,74,92). The current numbers breakdown to a much closer ~24%/26%/25%/25%. The part I find weird is that even if I looked at the data at 300 attempts of the current experiment, the distribution is still much more even than the previous test(79/70/74/77 or 26%/23%/25%/26%). The variance doesn't seem to make sense to me, but if any of the math/statistics people from the previous thread would like to chime in, I'd love to hear some possible reasonings. The only thing different in this test is the scale and that it was after the patch, but I somewhat doubt they touched tempering without saying anything.
On to the feel bads(back to back often unwanted affixes):
CSD: 19
MMD: 22
MMCS: 22
RoA: 15
With a much more equal number of overall appears of each affix roll, it would make sense the amount of repeated rolls would be similar, but it seems much more often than it should to me personally as the previous experiment had 5/11/9/10 of the back to back rolls respectively for each affix.
And the feels really bad back to back to back rolls:
CSD: 5
MMD: 6
MMCS: 4
RoA: 6
Another set of numbers I personally can't quite wrap my head around because while it makes sense the numbers would be fairly equal because of the near equal distribution, the frequency going up as much as it does seems really high to me. The previous numbers for 3 consecutive appearances were 1/1/2/2 respectively.
And an instance I did not see in the previous test, the big middle finger back to back to back to back rolls:
MMD: 2
MMCS: 1
These I find these surprising because given the distribution is actually pretty close to a flat 25% each affix, the chance of hitting 4 in a row is actually about .3 of a percent.
More granular observation #1:
The number of times each affix didn't appear in a roll for an item(out of 100 item):
CSD: 19
MMD: 17
MMCS: 15
RoA: 14
This one is interesting and also a headscratcher as the numbers don't align with the number of appearances as you would expect the affixes that appear the least would have more instances of this situation, so logically it should be CSD, RoA, MMCS, and then MMD from most instances to least.
more granular observation #2:
The max number of rolls in a row where the an affix does not appear(out of 600 rolls):
CSD: 24
MMD: 21
MMCS: 16
RoA: 15
This one is also interesting because it reflects the previous observation almost exactly as it goes against what would normally be expected as something to correlate with the number of overall appearances.
Overall, the results are quite interesting since they're in a stark contrast to the last test. The numbers this time around seem to reflect an almost even weight to all affixes(at least based on number of appearances). Though with the more granular observations, there does appear to be some bias involved. However, that's speculation as there is a lot we don't know like if there is a pity system or other factors involved in rolling. If there is some other pattern or information I should be looking for, let me know and I'll go over it again. Also, this testing is a pain in the ass since I right before I started; I realized I needed 4200 veiled crystals for it. So, if I run it again, it'll be in a bit as the farming part was way more tedious than the recording of the information.

150@$1

Total Price: $150
Make and Model: Spyderco Native 5 G10 Rex45
Timestamp&pics: https://imgur.com/a/native-5-rex45-tumADZE
Price Justification:
hhttps://www.reddit.com/Knife\_Swap/comments/1d3xo1b/wts\_shark\_lock\_bundle\_demko\_shark\_cub\_flytanium/ - Lightweight M4 Like New
hhttps://www.reddit.com/Knife\_Swap/comments/1d3jnty/wts\_benchmade\_griptilian\_proper\_spyderco\_native\_5/ - G10 and S30V no box
https://www.reddit.com/Knife_Swap/comments/1cwnttg/wts_ak_35_native_5_lw_wmxg_ti_clip_stretch_2_lw/ - S30V Lightweight w/ MXG Clip
Escrow: NO
Description:
Spyderco Native 5
Linerless orange G10 scales
Rex45 Blade
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Comes in a Native 5 Salt Box (how I got it)
I’m at least the second owner. Blade was sharpened by previous owner and was used. Light patina on the blade. Action is good, drops freely when lock is disengaged, you can middle finger flick it. Blade is centered. Original clip is not included.
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When I was ten, I formed a junior detective squad.
Mom bought me the entire box set of What's New Scooby Doo, and I was inspired to start my very own detective gang. I held auditions outside the gymnasium at recess (serious enquiries only) after a number of kids tried to apply for the role of Scooby Doo despite me reiterating I was not interested in playing make believe.
When I was laughed at in class, I made posters strictly asking for SERIOUS wannabe detectives, even going as far as using my Mom’s printer to make flyers, sticking them all over the school.
Auditions were simple. I asked them to solve a simple riddle.
Whoever impressed me got to sign their name down, and I’d get back to them.
I spent three days sifting through kids who definitely had charm, but they lacked the intelligence of a junior detective. Most kids were only auditioning to make fun of me, anyway.
Still, though, I didn't give up.
My flyers had five requirements:
1). You had to be smart.
2). You were not allowed to be a scaredy cat.
3). You had to accept your inevitable death at the hands of our town’s evil villains.
4). You had to have a fully registered driving licence (I quickly changed this to a bike).
5). You cannot have a criminal record.
(I later scribbled this one out, writing over it. *“You cannot have any tardies.”
Narrowing the applicants down to three kids, all of whom failed to share my enthusiasm for solving cases. The kids I picked didn't even know how to make plans, and when I invited them to my house, they stole my Mom’s necklace.
I didn't even need to solve the mystery of who stole Mom’s necklace. The girl was wearing it at school. I punched her in the face, and was immediately sent to the principal’s office. When I was being given the mother all lectures, the door quietly opened, a head peeking through.
It was Ben Callows, a freckly kid with overgrown brown hair hanging in his eyes. Ben really needed a haircut.
He was always wearing the exact same baseball cap, and I found myself wondering if it was permanently glued to his head, stuck on top of unruly brown curls practically matted to his forehead.
In class, Ben was also known as Bloody Ben. In the second grade, the boy had a nosebleed in the middle of a spelling test, bleeding all over his paper.
It's not like he didn't try and detach himself from the name.
Ben brought in Digimon cards, so kids would call him Digimon Ben instead.
Then he “accidentally” spilled yoghurt down his shirt in hopes we would call him Yoghurt Ben. But no. The kids in our class were relentless in reminding him of his name. No matter what he did, he was still Bloody Ben, and when anything related to blood came up in class, fifteen pairs of eyes would swivel to him, like he had invented the concept of bleeding.
I feared the nickname would follow him to junior high.
Ben didn't wait to be let in. He didn't even knock, striding in with his arms folded. Over the years, Bloody Ben, had definitely soured his personality.
He smiled rarely, and when he did smile, someone was falling over or hurting themselves.
Which definitely strengthened the claims of him being a sociopath.
The rumor mill was churning, with the latest claiming Bloody Ben killed his cat. That wasn't true. Ben’s cat was seventeen with cancer, and that was why he was sobbing all the way through reading time.
According to Ellie Daly, however, Ben had killed and dissected his kitty, and buried her in his Mom’s flowers.
Now, my principal did not like being interrupted, especially when she was in the middle of screaming at me.
Principal Marrow was old old (like, thirty, in my ten year old mind) stick thin like a pencil, and always wore the same stained sweater.
She used to be pretty, but I was convinced she had kissed a frog and been cursed. After our old principal suffered a stroke, she stepped in as a temporary replacement, and since becoming principal, had banned my favorite book series, colored shoe laces, and hamburger helper, even officiating a uniform.
(vomit green shorts and a tee, and plain white sneakers).
Kids were convinced she was a witch, and I kind of believed it.
Principal Marrow’s whole existence was built on sucking the fun out of school.
I was already reprimanded for my mystery gang flyers.
Her office smelled of peppermint and she was definitely sneaking sips of whisky in her coffee cup. I could see the bottle sticking out of the trash.
She straightened up, folding her arms across her chest, squinty eyes narrowing at the boy. I had spent the whole time she was lecturing me trying not to cry, my fists bunched in my lap.
I took the distraction as the perfect opportunity to swipe at my eyes, allowing myself to breathe.
Ben Callows was her victim now.
I was right. The woman's voice was like a thunderclap in my ears.
“You better have a good reason for not knocking, young man.”
Ben wasn't fazed by her tone. “You took my Switch two weeks ago,” he said, “I want it back, or I’m telling my Mom.”
At first, I thought I'd misheard him.
No, I was pretty sure he'd threatened our principal.
I swore I heard all of the breath sucked from the room.
“I'm sorry,” Principal Marrow cleared her throat. Her soft tone was dangerous.
She wasn't being nice. The lady was about to explode.
I could see visible veins straining in her temples, her right eye twitching.
It was straight out of a cartoon.
“Did you forget something, Ben?”
Ben sighed, like she was inconveniencing him.
He held out his hand. “Please can I have my Switch back? It counts as stolen property. Give it back, or I'm telling my Mom.”
The kid put so much emphasis on the word please, I couldn't resist a smile.
I think our principal was too shocked to get angry.
“Get out.” She said, firmly. “I don't have your gaming device.”
“It's in your drawer.” Ben nodded to her desk, “Under your divorce papers and the restraining order ordered by Jake Willow, the seventeen year old boy you've been having math ‘tutoring sessions’ with.” He quoted the air, his gaze lazily rolling to me. “Tutoring”
Principal Marrow went deathly pale, her eyes darkening.
“Benjamin Callows–”
“The school already knows about the restraining order, but your uncle is the head of the Board of Education, so all you get is a slap on the wrist and a warning to leave the boy alone."
Ben continued, and I found myself mesmerised by his words. He was a natural, his expression stoic, mouth curved with satisfaction that wasn't quite a smile. “However.” He held up his phone, pulling it away at the exact moment the teacher attempted to grab it. “You were outside Jake Willow’s house at 6:12am, drunk, and trying to climb through his window, which, I think violates the restraining order, does it not?”
Ben pretended to think real hard, his gaze flicking to the ceiling.
“I mean, I'm just a kid, right?” His mouth curled into the hint of a smirk
“What do I know, huh?”
Principal Marrow’s expression twisted, her lip wobbling.
“Mr Callows, remove yourself from my office, or I am calling your father.”
Leaning comfortably against the door, Ben’s lip twitched.
“Why? Are you planning on telling my Dad about your relations with a teenage boy, or will I have to tell him instead?”
I was enthralled, and fully disgusted, making a move to inch away from the woman.
“But it doesn't end there.” Ben continued. He straightened up, taking slow, intimidating steps towards the woman's desk. “You don't even want Jake, do you? Because, once upon a time, you were in love with his father. Jason Willow. You despised him for rejecting you, so you decided to defile his son.” Ben leaned over the principal’s desk, slipping his hand into the drawer, and pulling out his switch.
Painfully slowly.
She stood there, speechless, her shoulders trembling.
Ben smiled, and I found myself liking it.
“Thank you!” He said, waving the console in her face. Ben mimed locking his mouth and throwing away the key.
“My lips are sealed.”
Ben’s half lidded eyes found mine. “Are ya coming, Panda?”
I forgot my own nickname.
Panda.
I wore my Mom’s eyeliner because I thought it looked cool.
It did not.
Finding my breath, I snapped out of it.
Jumping up, I followed him out of the office, and when the two of us were safely on the hallway, I burst into hysterical giggles. “How did you know all of that?!” I whisper- shrieked.
Ben surprised me with a splutter. “Wait. You believed me?”
Something very cold trickled down my spine.
I stopped walking. “You lied?”
He shrugged. “I had a dig around her office before she caught me a few days ago,” Ben swung his arms, a smile curling on his mouth. “There's no restraining order, but there is prescription anti-psychosis medicine, and an extremely detailed story on her laptop about a teachestudent romance, which I presume is a self insert.”
Ben shot me a sickly grin. “The school refused to make her condition public.”
He prodded at his own cotton shirt embroidered with the school emblem.
“Why do you think she's made all these dumb rules? The woman is a certified Looney Tune.”
I nodded slowly. “Wait. What about Jake and his dad?”
“I made them up.”
I choked out a laugh. “And… the video?”
Ben walked faster, pulling out his phone and shoving it in my face. The video was real. Principal Marrow was walking around in circles, draped in her nightgown. “It's her own house,” he explained. “She locked herself out.”
Nodding slowly, I was in awe. Bloody Ben was kind of fucking amazing.
“But the restraining order isn't real.”
Ben raised a brow, coming to an abrupt halt. It was his smile that cemented his place in my gang. His lack of empathy for a woman he had gaslit into being a disgusting human being. Ben Callows wasn't exactly what I was looking for, but he fascinated me. Maybe for the wrong reasons. “Her filing cabinets are filled with tinned cat food, Panda,” he said with an exaggerated sigh, “I’m not psychic, but I thiiiiink we’ll be okay.”
I turned to him, unable to stop myself jumping up and down with excitement.
“Will you be my first?!”
Ben inclined his head. “Will I be your what?”
I shook my head. “Sorry. I mean, will you join my mystery gang?”
The boy’s eyes lit up, and I shoved him playfully.
“To solve real cases,” I corrected myself. “Not make them up.”
Ben wore a real, proper smile. But there was something in his eyes, a darkness that was so hollow and polluted and wrong, I pretended not to see it for the sake of his smarts and intellect. “Well, if you insist, sure!” Ben held out his hand, and I shook it. I'll be your first.”
We found our second member, who was, ironically, looking for her glasses under the table in class. Lucy Prescott, the quiet girl, was born to be with us.
The class eraser went missing, and she found it in the blink of an eye.
When questioned, Lucy’s face turned as red as her hair. “I asked everyone in the class and followed the clues to the last person who had it,” she pointed to Chase Simpson. “Which was Chase, who was throwing it at Marcus Calvin.”
Twisting around in my chair, I aimed to get Ben’s attention. But he was already looking at me, chin resting on his fist, eyes ignited with excitement.
The two of us cornered Lucy after class, and when she motioned for us to get back, I dragged Ben (who was a little too excited) to my side.
Lucy looked mildly horrified when I said, dangerous cases, though her expression pricked with intrigue.
She agreed, her gaze lingering on Ben, cheeks smouldering.
Our last two members were a surprise.
Violet Evergreen was what you would call popular on the middle school hierarchy. Not just because her mother was the mayor, but because Violet could get away with murder. The girl refused to wear the school uniform, coloring a single purple streak in her hair to cement herself as the it girl.
She was also one of the girls who started the Bloody Ben rumor.
Ben, Lucy, and I were sitting on the grass during recess, trying to come up with a name for our detective service, when Violet came storming over, hands planted on her hips. She was copying how her mother held herself during town meetings.
“What are you doing?” Violet demanded.
Lucy opened her mouth to answer, Ben nudging her to shut up.
“Making a mystery gang.” I told her. “Why?”
Violet inclined her head. “Oh.” She folded her arms. “Well, can I join?”
Ben stood up, stepping in front of the girl. Violet didn't move, stubbornly standing her ground. “Sure.” Ben flashed a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. He stepped closer to her, his smile widening. “If you can pass the test.”
Violet’s lip curled. She took a single step back. “What kind of test?”
Ben nodded to me. “Meet us at the swimming pool at 8pm.”
To my surprise, Violet nodded. “Do I need to bring anything?”
“Nope!”
8pm. The four of us met outside the local swimming pool.
Violet was already on the other side of the fence, waving.
“Hey guys!”
I noticed Ben’s expression, his eyes darkening, lip curling.
Still though, he maintained positivity, vaulting over the fence.
“You made it!”
I followed him, helping Lucy, who was immediately freaking out. I didn't blame her. The pool looked cold and dark, a hollow oblivion carved into the ground.
Ben and Violet stood on the edge, the two of them shoulder to shoulder.
Violet Evergreen was braver than I thought.
Standing with her arms at her sides, Violet's hands clenched into fists.
“What's the test?” Violet said, her gaze glued to bleeding black depths.
“I don't know,” Ben murmured, his voice teetering on a giggle. He leaned forwards, arms spread out. “I didn't think you'd actually come meet us.”
Violet hummed, stretching out her leg, teasing it across the surface. “Was that the test?”
The boy leaned back. I caught the glint of a grin under the floodlights. “Nah.”
Before I knew what was happening, he shoved Violet into the pool. The girl didn't scream or shriek, she just hit the surface, sinking into pitch dark nothing.
“Sink or swim,” Ben said in a low murmur, when Violet’s head bobbed under water. I could see her shadow under the surface, imagining the freezing cold depths pulling her down.
“Drown, and you can't join us.”
It was so quiet, suddenly. The three of us staring into rippling water.
A minute passed, and my tummy started to twist.
“Fuck.” Ben’s expression stayed stoic. I wasn't expecting him to say a bad word.
He cocked his head. “I thought she could swim.”
I hit him, holding in a cry. “You need to get our parents!”
But he didn't listen to me, taking a single step, and dropping into the pool.
I fell to my knees, scanning the water.
Lucy was crying. “Are they dead?!” she shrieked.
“Shhh!” I was watching two shadows lingering under the water.
Violet broke through. I expected her to be crying, but her expression was unwavering. She was silent. I thought the splashing underneath her was her legs trying and struggling to tread water, before Lucy shoved me. Hard.
“Panda! What do we do?!”
Looking closer, Violet was perfectly still, her gaze on the sky.
While she shoved Ben under the water, drowning him.
Violet’s eyes sparkled, and somehow, I knew she belonged in my gang.
Her gaze found mine, glinting with that darkness, that poisonous streak I found myself drawn to. It was a starving, insatiable need to understand a fractured mind. Know your enemy.
“Do you want to see if Ben’s a witch?” Violet asked me, her tone something else entirely. This girl did not make sense, using barely her finger to drown Ben Callows. I knew she was wrong.
I knew there was something loose, something unlocked and unbridled and drowning inside her mind and heart.
But I wanted more of her. I wanted Violet Evergreen in my detective gang.
I think that is why I stood there, frozen.
When the thrashing stopped, Ben broke through.
He wasn't coughing or spluttering, his head inclined. “You didn't drown.”
Violet climbed out of the pool, offering her hand. “And you're not a witch.”
He declined her hand, taking the steps instead.
I asked Violet in a shaky voice. I was trembling with terror, but I was excited.
Exhilarated.
“Violet, will you join my gang?”
She didn't answer me until we were sharing hot cocoa in my house.
I told Mom we fell in the pool, and she believed me. I should have told her that my friends were sociopaths, and I was kind of maybe in love. Violet sipped her cocoa, nodding with a smile I didn't recognise. Violet never smiled at school.
Well, she did. But it was always the prick of a cruel smirk.
I don't think her smile was genuine, but she was definitely enjoying herself.
Our last member came to us, instead of finding him.
Jules Howell, a straggly brunette pushed his way in front of me in the lunch line. I didn't really know the kid.
He sat at the back of the classroom and slept through most of class. I did like his accent though.
Jules had moved from Melbourne in the second grade. He didn't talk much.
When he did, I found myself enveloped in his voice, which sounded like water to me, a bleeding cadence to his tone.
Jules piled his plate with fries, smiling widely at the lunch ladies.
“I saw you last night.” He murmured through that perfectly moulded grin.
“Saw me where?”
“At the pool,” Jules said. “You, Bloody Ben, Violet Evergreen, and that Lucy girl. You were doing a suiciding pact.”
“That's not what we were doing.” I said, “What's a suiciding pact?”
“When you kill yourself together.” Jules said. “I saw it in a scary movie my Mom was watching.”
I grabbed a fork. “We weren't doing that.”
His eyes were strange when I took the time to notice them. The excited gleam had fizzled out. Jules’s hands tightened around his tray. “Then what were you doing?”
I didn't reply, making my way over to our usual table. Ben was already waving me over, Violet and Lucy holding up the flyers we were making.
THE REDBLOOD DETECTIVES.”
Do YOU need our help? We can find/solve anything! Contact us on the number below. (We take donations!)
When I bothered turning around, Jules was lost in the crowd of kids.
We were on our first official case, searching for Mrs Lake’s missing mail, when Jules appeared seemingly out of nowhere. And with him, a golden retriever puppy he introduced as Arlo.
It took a dog jumping up at them for Violet and Ben to find their real smiles, their real selves slowly seeping through these facades they had built around themselves. Ben dropped to a crouch, ruffling the dog's ears, his smile faint.
“Who's a good boy?” He chuckled.
Arlo didn't move, tail wagging, eyes bright.
Ben motioned the dog towards him, but Arlo stayed put.
Jules joined us…quietly.
I don't remember asking him, or even him asking me.
He just became part of us, side by side with Arlo.
We soon came to quickly realize that our town was boring.
There were no monsters or thieves, or soul sucking demons. No criminals or serial killers. Not even one missing person. We did, however, get calls about missing cats. I turned eleven years old, patiently waiting for a murder or a kid going missing. But there was nothing.
All we did was chase cats, and the occasional dog. Maybe a budgie if we were lucky. Twelve years old, our detective club became a joke.
The five of us (and Arlo hiding under the table) were trying to pinpoint Mrs Tracy's lost hamster, when three girls came over, dumping their soda all over us.
We watched crime shows for inspiration on catching killers.
Ben’s favorite crime was one that happened in the 80’s in our town.
2 girls murdered.
Their intestines stuffed into envelopes and mailed to family members.
“That's what we should be solving,” he told me one night, “Not missing cats.”
Thirteen years old, we lay in Violet’s backyard under the cruel glare of the summer sun. We called it working and didn't like to admit it was hanging out, or that we were even friends. However.
That didn't stop us growing closer.
Even if it wasn't quite the way I’d expected.
I proposed a plan, standing up, wobbling a little off balance.
“I've got it.” I said, my voice kinda slurry from Violet’s special summer cocktail, which was just random alcoholic beverages we found, thrown into a blender, and diluted with water.
The town wasn't taking us seriously.
So, we were going to make our own mysteries.
I ordered a full-scale assault on our small town. One that they could not ignore. Ben stamped on Mrs Mason’s flowers, and Lucy threw mud pies at people's cars. Jules trashed the high school gym, and Violet and I spray painted threats and warnings on every store window. Now, this did cause panic, but also an official curfew.
Thirty minutes before curfew, we met in our usual spot, deep in the forest near the lake. Ben yelled at me when I was three minutes late. He was real passionate about finding a real mystery.
“You're late.” Ben was sitting on a rock waving a stick in Arlo’s face.
The dog still wasn't going near him, whining softly.
I took my place, muttering an apology. “I had to lie to my Mom.”
Violet, sitting with her legs crossed, idly digging her manicure into the dirt, suggested we buy mannequins and masquerade them as dead bodies, hanging them from the school rafters.
Lucy, who had slowly grown out of her shell, becoming a lot more outspoken, nudged her. “That's a stupid idea.”
The girl groaned, leaning into her. “Urgh. You're right.”
Jules was the only energetic one, standing on the tireswing.
He jumped down, definitely twisting his ankle.
But his smile only widened, kind of like he enjoyed being in pain.
“Why don't we pretend to be kidnapped?” He said, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt over blondish curls growing out. Jules did a dramatic spin, his eyes shining. “We can ‘go missing’ for like a week, and then when our parents are really scared, we can turn up, and tell them we escaped a kidnapping.” His lips split into a grin.
“And then we solve our own kidnapping!”
Ben awkwardly patted Arlos head, only for the dog to pull away with a snort.
“I like it,” he murmured. “I'm in.”
Jules’s idea was stupid.
But.
It was worth a shot.
The five of us agreed to meet the morning after with enough food and supplies for a week. Then we were going to hike to the next town, and hide out for a week. It was an almost perfect plan, using ourselves as victims of our own mystery.
Packing as much as I could, I kissed my mother goodbye (I told her my pack was for a picnic) and set off to the rendezvous we agreed on.
When I arrived, I was the first one there. I checked and re-checked my pack.
I waited ten minutes, unable to contain my excitement.
Then 20 minutes.
It was getting kind of cold.
One hour.
I sat on a rock for enough time to watch the sky change color.
When the clouds were orange, I stood up and stumbled back home. They had gone without me. Mom lectured me when I got home, and I stuck to the plan of pretending my friends had gone missing, even if I they had betrayed me.
Ben said he'd text me when he arrived at the redervous. I at least expected him to text an explanation, but there was nothing. I was in the dark, and after three days of nothing, our town finally began to take us seriously.
“Our children have been kidnapped!” The adults were screaming.
Mom was crying in the kitchen, praying to a god I knew she didn't believe in that I wasn't taken next. I was interviewed and stuck with the exact same story I came up with when I was with the others. Our plan was to return after a week, claiming to be locked up in a dark room with a masked man.
I told my Mother and the other parents that I didn't know where my friends were, repeating the same thing over and over again until I was tongue tied.
“I saw them the day before they went missing, and… yes, everything seemed okay.” I slowly sipped my glass of milk provided, looking the sheriff directly in the eyes.
“No, I didn't notice anything suspicious, sheriff. Yes, I'm sure, sir. No, they didn't tell me anything.”
It was Ben’s mother who shattered my mask.
“Did I know about… what?” I whispered.
Something warm filled the back of my mouth, foul tasting milk erupting up my throat. I leaned forward, trying to look Mrs Callows in the eye. “No, I… I didn't know about Ben’s…condition.”
Mrs Callows was screaming at me about her son’s troubled past when I barfed all over myself, my eyes burning.
In the privacy of my own room, I sobbed until I couldn't breathe.
I tried to tell Mom, but we had come so close.
One more day, and the others would be back.
But that day came. I sat cross legged at our usual spot, which was now covered in police tape. I waited for their thudding footsteps, their laughter congratulating each other for coming up with a great plan. I waited, my face buried in my knees, for my friends.
It was dark when my phone vibrated, and I'd fallen asleep.
I wasn't scared, forcing myself to my feet.
“Where are you?” Mom yelled down the phone.
“Coming home now.” I muttered.
“Sorry.” I paused, holding my breath against a cry. “Mom.” I broke down, forcing my fist into my mouth to hide my squeak. “Mommy, did they come back?”
Mom didn't reply for a moment.
“I'm so sorry, baby.” She whispered, ending the call.
I took my time walking home that night.
There were no stars in the sky.
When a hand clamped over my mouth, I could smell him.
When he dragged me back, stabbing a kitchen knife into my throat, I stared at the sky and looked for stars. His arms were warm around me, violently pulling me into the back of a pickup truck. The pickup truck he'd said he was bringing.
It was his grandfather's, and he could just about drive it.
Hitting the backseat, my body was numb, my thoughts in a whirlwind.
The pickup flew forwards, and I remembered how to move.
I rolled off the seat, my hands pinned behind my back.
Twisting around, blinking in the dim, I could feel something warm, something seeping across upholstery seats. Blood.
It was everywhere, sticky on my hands and wet on my face when I struggled to get up. I was lying in someone's blood.
A scream clawed its way out of my throat.
The pickup flew over a pothole, and something dropped off the seat.
Arlo’s leash.
I screamed again, this time his name gritted between my teeth.
I didn't stop screaming until the jerking movement stopped. The doors opened, pale light hitting me in the face.
Flashlight. Warm arms wrapped around me, pulling me from the car, and then, pulling me by my hair, into our old tree house. It was always our secret place, our saving grace on the edge of town.
The flickering candlelight caught me off guard, illuminating my surroundings.
Two bodies slumped over each other, lying in stemming red.
I felt suffocated, like I was going to die. I screamed, and that warm hand cradled my mouth again, gagging my cries.
Violet and Jules.
There was something wrong with them. And it was only when I forced myself to look closer, when I realized their insides had been carved out, heart, stomach, everything, pulled out.
There was paper on the floor.
No, not paper. Envelopes.
Envelopes stuffed with gore, bright red leaking through white.
Shuffling back, my brain was too slow to react, while my body was trying to vault to my feet, only to be violently pulled back by my ponytail.
I felt his fingers twining around my hair, revelling in my screams.
With another tug, my head was forced forwards.
Orange candlelight felt almost homely, this time lighting up a third body.
Lying on their back, curled up, pooling scarlet dried into the floorboards, their wrists restricted with duct-tape.
I could feel blood underneath me, sticky, a congealing paste.
“Do you know what happened on October 3rd, 1987, in our town?”
Lucy Prescott stood over me, her arms folded across her chest.
I managed to shake my head, when she grabbed Ben’s legs, dragging him under the candlelight. I dazedly watched her stroke the blade of a carving knife, the teeth already stained scarlet. “The intestine murders.” Lucy hummed, tracing the knife down the floorboards.
“A man murdered two high school girls, carving out their insides and sending their pieces to their loved ones.”
Lucy's eyes found mine, ignited in a familiar gleam. I saw it in Principal Marrow’s office. Then the swimming pool. The cafeteria. “It was the sheriff's only murder case, Panda. Ever since then, our town has been boring. There's no mysteries to solve. Nothing to find.”
The girl jumped to her feet, retrieving a blood stained envelope.
She held it up, a smile curved on her lips. The girl turned around, and I heard a horrific squelching sound. Lucy held up a bright red sausage, ripped into it, and slipped it into the white paper.
“But I can change that.” she said, in a giggle.
“I can create a real serial killer, who we can hunt down together.”
Lucy stabbed the blade into the floor, laughing.
“Or! I can bring a fan-favorite back! I can bring the intestine killer back from the dead!”
Her gaze flicked to the others. “There are casualties, of course. The story is, I was kidnapped with Ben, Violet, and Jules. The scary intestine killer killed them, and I managed to get away.”
Lucy shuffled over to me, her eyes wide. “Then! He came back and struck again!”
With those words, she shoved me onto my back.
“First he took Violet,” Lucy hummed, tracing the blade down my shirt.
“Then… Jules.” I squeezed my eyes shut, pulling at the restraints around my wrists. “Then Ben.” her breath tickled my cheek. “And finally… Panda.”
Lucy lifted the knife, and I accepted my death.
Until a low rumble in my ears.
Shouting.
Thundering footsteps, followed by the pitter-patter of paws.
“Lucy!” The sheriff was screaming, and the girl stumbled to her feet, the knife slipping from her fingers. Lucy stumbled, tripping over Ben’s body.
“He got away!” she shrieked. “He…he killed them! Oh, god, please help me!”
I don't think Lucy even realised the traces she'd left behind.
The blood slick on her fingers, her manic, grinning smile full of mania.
I was looking for stars when an officer crouched over me.
I couldn't understand what she was saying.
Her voice was white noise.
“Rachel? Hey, try and sit up, honey. You Mom is on her way.”
Instead of listening to her, I curled into myself.
My gaze found Arlo sticking his nose in Ben’s hair, trying to nudge the boy awake.
I didn't fully register the next few days.
They went by in a confusing blur.
Part of me tried to eat, and spent hours with my head pressed against the toilet seat.
I could still see the slithering, scarlet remains of my friends every time I closed my eyes. There was so much red, soaked in that hunting orange light.
Blood that I could still see, a starless sky that stretched on forever.
Weeks went by.
Then months.
I think I turned 14. I wasn't sure. I didn't feel alive anymore.
I stood at my friend’s funerals with a single rose I dropped into their casket.
Violet’s mother was quick to cover the whole thing up.
Lucy's plan didn't work after all.
Our town’s murder cases stayed stagnant at one.
It's been four years since my friends were murdered by our ’Velma’.
Now, at seventeen, Mom asked if I wanted to visit Lucy in juvie.
I'm not even upset or angry anymore.
I want to know why.
Ben picked me up. Arlo was at his side, wagging his tail.
Ben was…different. He'd dumped his baseball cap and gotten a haircut, swapping his old wardrobe of drab colors for an attempt at changing style.
That day, he looked awkward in a short sleeved tee and shorts.
At school, Ben is no longer Bloody Ben.
Now, he is Survivor Ben.
I’m still Panda.
Every time I was with him, I felt like my soul was being sucked out.
Guilt so deep, so fucking painful, I lost my breath.
I live knowing that I immediately assumed it was him that day.
Ben was barely alive when I found him. Lucy had started to carve into him before remembering she needed me.
After admitting it to him, his lips formed a small smile.
“Can I tell you a secret?” He said to me, at sixteen.
"Yeah?"
Whatever he was going to say, Ben never told me.
Presently, I nodded at the dog’s new collar.
“Peppa Pig themed?”
The boy shrugged, ruffling Arlo’s ears. “FYI, he chose it.”
“It's cute.” I said. “Very… chic.”
We didn't speak the whole ride, but Ben did entangle his hand in mine.
We spent half an hour outside the detention centre. I was panicking, and Ben was trying to hide that he was panicking. In the end, we joined hands, and strode through the doors together.
Lucy greeted us with a wide smile. Just as psychotic.
The orange jumpsuit suited her, though I had zero idea why.
“Hey Arlo!” she giggled at the dog, and Ben pulled the pup onto his lap.
“Ben.” She sighed. “I wish I got to finish you. I would have loved to solve the mystery of your gutted corpse.”
Ben’s smile was wry. “Nice to see you too.”
Behind a glass screen, I asked Lucy one simple question.
“Why?”
Lucy didn't reply. Or she did, but it was just nonsensical bullshit.
But there was one thing she said has stuck with me, chilling me to the core.
I am fucking terrified of Lucy. Of what's she's done, and what she's capable of doing.
It was a throwaway line, and I don't even think Ben noticed.
Or he did, and was in denial.
Lucy's smile was wide, her eyes empty pools of nothing.
The exact same glint in Ben’s eyes.
Jules’s eyes.
Violet’s eyes.
Like something was gnawing away at their psyche, twisting and contorting it, filling them with darkness, poison, that was so vast, so endless, I had craved it as a child. I still don't know what it is.
But I'm going to find it.
Lucy's laugh was shrill, and next to me, Ben didn't move a muscle.
But he did smile.
Yes, my gang were psychos.
But I kind of maybe loved it.
“I don't even wear glasses!”

I recently got a Cornet that has an A and C lead pipe. The A lead pipe is the same fingerings as my Bb trumpet that I’ve played for many years. With the C lead pipe, which goes into a different pipe, the same fingerings don’t work. The same type of pattern works for some of the way up the scale, but then it stops working. I can’t seem to find a fingering chart for the C lead pipe.
Does anyone have any information for this?
TL;DR: I have a cornet with a C lead pipe. I can’t figure out fingerings, but it’s different from a Bb trumpet.
UPDATE: I figured it out. It just needed to be tuned. The C lead pipe goes into where the tuning slide originally did, and the lead pipe has a long tube at the end, which doubles as the tuning slide

I finally completed the boathouse! But I did do at least three or four upgrades to the initial set. Mind you this is using two copies of the set. If you would like to do this yourself, go for it!
1) I exchanged the smaller mushroom for the more detailed mushroom head. That way it matches the leaping toadstool caps in Hogwarts Legacy. Yes you'd need three close together but with the amount of space in this Lego set I opted to just eat these super tiny one and use the larger more detailed mushroom 🍄.
2) I raised The Boathouse up using 6 - 1x2 Tan or Med. Nougat Bricks. Although I appreciated how tall it was when I finished it, I realized that Professors, like Professor Snape for example, can just barely fit in the two side walkway entrances. It wasn't ideal for me and my adult Wreck-it Ralph fingers lol. So I raised it up. It should still look alright attached to the Great Hall 🏰.
3) Next, the angled Arch in the back of the boat house had too many gaps in my opinion. So I found some 1x1 Med. Nougat Plates to raise the 1x1 Slopes, and fill in those gaps a little bit more. What should I have more 1x1 tan plates, but I'll have to look later on.
4) Lastly, it's not perfect BUT I gave the kids lanterns to hold in the boats. Now I honestly think they need the transparent yellow minifig heads for lanterns, meanwhile Hagrid can still use the lantern piece. But I don't know. It doesn't look too bad. But I do want to go for accuracy, so I'll be getting some transparent yellow heads next week or so. And I'm glad I got the extra boats. But I feel as though I need one more for Seamus Finnigan and Draco Malfoy, who I have just sitting on a 8x16 plate with other characters from the Philosopher's Stone. 🕯🛶
I honestly do you like this little set, my only real issue with it is there's not enough room for figures to walk around or get off the boat. Like they have to get off the boat from the front to access the stairs, otherwise they got a parkour around the side. But I enjoy this and can't wait how this will scale with the Great Hall.
I probably won't be working on the Great Hall till tomorrow night when it's late and dark outside. Why? Why for the perfect atmosphere of course...and cuz I'll be sleep in the afternoon after work LOL. Oh yeah, the last images were from Hogwarts Legacy of The Boathouse as a reference in case anyone else wants to upgrade or improve their Boathouse and don't have Hogwarts Legacy the game.

This is a long post! Apologies in advance for the subpar formatting, I will probably edit this soon. Posting this here as per request, and so I can get some feedback ahead of time before posting on debatereligion
Prophet Muhammad (SAW) gave various prophecies leading up to the dajjal (the antichrist), the 2nd coming of Jesus Christ (AS), and other signs of the the Last Hour.
(Note: I'm gonna label some of these like "Narration 1" so they can be referenced later)
Narration 1 The Last Hour would not come until the Romans would land at al-A'maq or in Dabiq. An army consisting of the best (soldiers) of the people of the earth at that time will come from Medina (to counteract them). When they will arrange themselves in ranks, the Romans would say: Do not stand between us and those (Muslims) who took prisoners from amongst us. Let us fight with them; and the Muslims would say: Nay, by Allah, we would never get aside from you and from our brethren that you may fight them. They will then fight and a third (part) of the army would run away, whom Allah will never forgive. A third (part of the army) which would be constituted of excellent martyrs in Allah's eye, would be killed and the third who would never be put to trial would win and they would be conquerors of Constantinople. And as they would be busy in distributing the spoils of war (amongst themselves) after hanging their swords by the olive trees, the Satan would cry: The Dajjal has taken your place among your family. They would then come out, but it would be of no avail. And when they would come to Syria, he would come out while they would be still preparing themselves for battle drawing up the ranks. Certainly, the time of prayer shall come and then Jesus (peace be upon him) son of Mary would descend and would lead them. When the enemy of Allah would see him, it would (disappear) just as the salt dissolves itself in water and if he (Jesus) were not to confront them at all, even then it would dissolve completely, but Allah would kill them by his hand and he would show them their blood on his lance (the lance of Jesus Christ). Sahih Muslim 2897 https://sunnah.com/muslim:2897
Narration 2 (Note: it's not definitively Constantinople being referred to here, but it's unlikely that it's referring to somewhere else) Abu Huraira reported Allah's Apostle (may peace he upon him) saying: You have heard about a city, one side of which is on land and the other is in the sea (Constantinople). They said: Allah's Messenger, yes. Thereupon he said: The Last Hour would not come unless seventy thousand persons from Bani lshaq would attack it. When they would land there, they will neither fight with weapons nor would shower arrows but would only say: "There is no god but Allah and Allah is the Greatest," and one side of it would fall. Thaur (one of the narrators) said: I think that he said: The part by the side of the ocean. Then they would say for the second time: "There is no god but Allah and Allah is the Greatest" and the second side would also fall, and they would say: "There is no god but Allah and Allah is the Greatest," and the gates would be opened for them and they would enter therein and, they would be collecting spoils of war and distributing them amongst themselves when a noise would be heard saying: Verily, Dajjal has come. And thus they would leave everything there and go back. Sahih Muslim 2920a https://sunnah.com/muslim:2920a
Narration 3 Once there blew a red storm in Kufah that there came a person who had nothing to say but (these words): Abdullah b. Masud, the Last Hour has come. He (Abdullah b. Masud) was sitting reclining against something, and he said: The Last Hour would not come until shares of inheritance are not distributed and there is no rejoicing over spoils of war. Then he said pointing towards Syria, with the gesture of his hand like this: The enemy shall muster strength against Muslims and the Muslims will muster strength against them (Syrians). I said: You mean Rome? And he said: Yes, and there would be a terrible fight and the Muslims would prepare a detachment (for fighting unto death) which would not return but victorious. They will fight until night will intervene them; both the sides will return without being victorious and both will be wiped out. The Muslims will again prepare a detachment for fighting unto death so that they may not return but victorious. When it would be the fourth day, a new detachment out of the remnant of the Muslims would be prepared and Allah will decree that the enemy should be routed. And they would fight such a fight the like of which would not be seen, so much so that even if a bird were to pass their flanks, it would fall down dead before reaching the end of them. (There would be such a large scale massacre) that when counting would be done, (only) one out of a hundred men related to one another would be found alive. So what can be the joy at the spoils of such war and what inheritance would be divided! They would be in this very state that they would hear of a calamity more horrible than this. And a cry would reach them: The Dajjal has taken your place among your offspring. They will, therefore, throw away what would be in their hands and go forward sending ten horsemen, as a scouting party. Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) said: I know their names and the names of their forefathers and the color of their horses. They will be the best horsemen on the surface of the earth on that day or amongst the best horsemen on the surface of the earth on that day. Sahih Muslim 2899a https://sunnah.com/muslim:2899a
The events throughout the conquest of Constantinople are roughly described like so...
Narration 1: 1. Romans (Byzantines) arrive to al-A'maq 2. Muslim soldiers from Medina meet them, and they have a great battle 3. 1/3 of the Muslims run away, 1/3 are martyred, and 1/3 continue to live on 4. Constantinople is conquered by the 1/3 Muslim victors 5. They distribute spoils among themselves 6. Satan let's out a scream, saying the dajjal is now a threat, but there's no sight of the dajjal 7. Those Muslims leave and go to Syria, and prepare for battle 8. Dajjal shows himself 9. Jesus (AS) descends for the prayer 10. Dajjal is killed by Jesus (AS)
Narration 2: 1. 70,000 from children of Isaac conquer Constantinople without weapons 2. Distribute spoils among themselves 3. Cry of dajjal, they leave everything and go back 4. (One should note, that the land with "one side of which is on land and the other is in the sea" is not definitively Constantinople, but it's quite unlikely it's referring to something else)
Narration 3: 1. Roman (Byzantine) Syrians muster strength against Muslims, and Muslims muster strength against them 2. Great battle, described as a calamity 3. Cry of dajjal, they throw what's in their hands 4. Ten scouts sent out
In 1453, the Muslims conquered Constantinople, but as we know, the dajjal did not emerge, nor did Jesus (AS). They also did not conquer it without weapons. Therefore, this prophecy has failed.
Many recognize this, and create an interpretation that the first conquest wasn't the prophesied one, and there are going to be two conquests of Constantinople, (the second one being without weapons).
That is like I said: an interpretation. No Hadith makes clear, two separate conquests of Constantinople.
And though these 3 narrations have varying levels of details, they do not contradict each other, (which could reflect that they're two seperate conquests).
One might note that narration 1 SEEMS like it says they use weapons to conquer Constantinople, and narration 2 SEEMS to say that they'll only use words (la ilaha illallah Allahu akbar) to conquer Constantinople, but there's actually nothing in narration 1 that explicitly says they'll use weapons to take over Constantinople. They do indeed hang up their swords, but just because they set their gear down, doesn't mean they used it to take the city. Bear in mind, that they had just gotten done with the infamous Great Battle, gone to Constantinople, and probably expected to be met with force, so one would expect they'd take their sheaths and swords off and set them down after all of that.
Also, the cry of the dajjal is a common factor between all of these narrations, forcing them to be one instance. Unless you want to say that there are going to be multiple cries of the dajjal, and some- be false I guess? Like satan cries it out but it's just a trick?
If you're going to lead with the idea that narration 1 refers to a different conquest than narration 2 (1 using weapons, 2 using words), then you're leading with the idea that: 1. There was the conquest of 1453, with no cry of the dajjal 2. There is going to be another conquest with weapons and with a false/deceiving cry of the dajjal 3. Then there's going to be ANOTHER conquest with only words, and that will have the real cry of the dajjal
That seems to me to be a pretty obviously false idea. So yes, these 3 narrations refer to the same instance. There's nowhere in Hadiths that creates a distinction between two different conquests of Constantinople.
Not only that, but these narrations are also limited to their times, and I'll explain why, but also note the following Hadiths:
The Prophet (ﷺ) said: The flourishing state of Jerusalem will be when Yathrib is in ruins, the ruined state of Yathrib will be when the great war comes, the outbreak of the great war will be at the conquest of Constantinople and the conquest of Constantinople when the Dajjal (Antichrist) comes forth. He (the Prophet) struck his thigh or his shoulder with his hand and said: This is as true as you are here or as you are sitting (meaning Mu'adh ibn Jabal). (Yathrib is Medina) Sunan Abu Dawud 4294, CLASSED HASAN https://sunnah.com/abudawud:4294
I heard Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) as saying: The Last Hour would come (when) the Romans would form a majority amongst people. 'Amr said to him (Mustaurid Qurashi): See what you are saying? He said: I say what I heard from Allah's Messenger (ﷺ). Thereupon he said: If you say that, it is a fact for they have four qualities. They have the patience to undergo a trial and immediately restore themselves to sanity after trouble and attack again after flight. They (have the quality) of being good to the destitute and the orphans, to the weak and, fifthly, the good quality in them is that they put resistance against the oppression of kings. Sahih Muslim 2898a (and Sahih Muslim 2898b says the exact same thing as the bolded text) https://sunnah.com/muslim:2898a https://sunnah.com/muslim:2898b
"I was sitting with the Messenger of Allah when a man said: 'O Messenger of Allah! The people have lost interest in horses and put down their weapons, and they say there is no Jihad, and that war has ended.' The Messenger of Allah turned to face him and said: 'They are lying, now the fighting is to come. There will always be a group among my Ummah who will fight for the truth, for whom Allah will cause some people to deviate, and grant them provision from them, until the Hour begins and until the promise of Allah comes. Goodness is tied to the forelocks of horses until the Day of Resurrection. It has been revealed to me that I am going to die and will not stay long, and you will follow me group after group, striking one another's necks. And the place of safety for the believers is Ash-Sham.'" Sunan an-Nasa'i 3561 https://sunnah.com/nasai:3561
These are the reasons why the prophecies are limited to their time:
Prophet Muhammad (SAW) says the dajjal emerges after the conquering of Constantinople, and that the Romans would be a majority when the last hour would come.
When was a time when Constantinople was yet to be conquered, and the Romans were a majority? Hundreds of years ago. The dajjal did not come forth.
Prophet Muhammad (SAW) describes the conquest of Constantinople involving swords, arrows, and horseback.
For example...
Narration 1 says "after hanging their swords by the olive trees"
Narration 2 says "they will neither fight with weapons nor would shower arrows"
Narration 3 says "They will, therefore, throw away what would be in their hands go forward sending ten horsemen, as a scouting party."
Prophet Muhammad (SAW) says (in the context of battles) that "goodness is tied to the forelocks of horses until the day of resurrection" which further supports the idea that Prophet Muhammad (SAW) did not expect the world to advance beyond horses in battle.
If you want to say there are two seperate conquests in time, you're saying: 1. The Romans (Byzantines) will once again become a majority among the people, as the Byzantine empire fell many hundreds of years ago, and that their descendants that are still alive today, will become a majority, and fight the Muslims again. 2. People will revert to swords, bows, and horses. 3. Constantinople will once again fall into the hands of people other than the Muslims.
Another thing I've heard, is that Prophet Muhammad (SAW) used words like swords, arrows, and horses, so that people of the time would understand what he's talking about. Because if he mentioned guns, and cars they would think he's crazy and telling lies, or maybe the narrations would've been abandoned long ago for sounding crazy.
I have nothing to irrefutably disprove this, but I would think that the average, unbiased mind would not give this grace. I mean, imagine if Christianity or the LDS church said this. Would you give them such a great benefit?
One thing I can say, is that if he knew there would be a second conquest involving guns and cars, but he didn't want to throw the people off, he could've just avoided those specific details, or used neutral words, like how he uses "weapons" in narration 2. He could say they would send out scouts, and not mention horses. He didn't need to mention swords, the showering of arrows, and horses.
SECOND:
Prophet Muhammad (SAW) also gave these prophecies...
When Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) had finished his prayer, he sat on the pulpit smiling and said: Every worshipper should keep sitting at his place. He then said: Do you know why I had asked you to assemble? They said: Allah and His Messenger know best. He said: By Allah. I have not made you assemble for exhortation or for a warning, but I have detained you here, for Tamim Dari, a Christian, who came and accepted Islam, told me something, which agrees with what I was telling, you about the Dajjal. He narrated to me that he had sailed in a ship along with thirty men of Bani Lakhm and Bani Judham and had been tossed by waves in the ocean for a month. Then these (waves) took them (near) the land within the ocean (island) at the time of sunset. They sat in a small side-boat and entered that island. There was a beast with long thick hair (and because of these) they could not distinguish his face from his back. They said: Woe to you, who can you be? Thereupon it said: I am al-Jassasa. They said: What is al-Jassasa? And it said: O people, go to this person in the monastery as he is very much eager to know about you. He (the narrator) said: When it named a person for us we were afraid of it lest it should be a devil. Then we hurriedly went on till we came to that monastery and found a well-built person there with his hands tied to his neck and having iron shackles between his two legs up to the ankles. We said: Woe be upon thee, who are you? And he said: You would soon come to know about me. but tell me who are you. We said: We are people from Arabia and we embarked upon a boat but the sea-waves had been driving us for one month and they brought as near this island. We got Into the side-boats and entered this island and here a beast met us with profusely thick hair and because of the thickness of his hair his face could not be distinguished from his back. We said: Woe be to thee, who are you? It said: I am al- Jassasa. We said: What is al-Jassasa? And it said: You go to this very person in the monastery for he is eagerly waiting for you to know about you. So we came to you in hot haste fearing that that might be the Devil. He (that chained person) said: Tell me about the date-palm trees of Baisan. We said: About what aspect of theirs do you seek information? He said: I ask you whether these trees bear fruit or not. We said: yes. Thereupon he said: I think these would not bear fruits. He said: Inform me about the lake of Tabariyya? We said: Which aspect of it do you want to know? He said: Is there water in it? They said: There is abundance of water in it. Thereupon he said: I think it would soon become dry. He again said: Inform me about the spring of Zughar. They said: Which aspect of it you want to know? He (the chained person) said: Is there water in it and does it irrigate (the land)? We said to him: Yes, there is abundance of water in it and the inhabitants (of Medina) irrigate (land) with the help of it, He said: Inform me about the unlettered Prophet; what has he done? We said: He has come out from Mecca and has settled In Yathrib (Medina). He said: Do the Arabs fight against him? We said: Yes. He said: How did he deal with them? We informed him that he had overcome those in his neighbourhood and they had submitted themselves before him. Thereupon he said to us: Has it actually happened? We said: Yes. Thereupon he said: If it is so that is better for them that they should show obedience to him. I am going to tell you about myself and I am Dajjal and would be soon permitted to get out and so I shall get out and travel in the land, and will not spare any town where I would not stay for forty nights except Mecca and Medina as these two (places) are prohibited (areas) for me and I would not make an attempt to enter any one of these two. An angel with a sword in his hand would confront me and would bar my way and there would be angels to guard every passage leading to it; then Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) striking the pulpit with the help of the end of his staff said: This implies Taiba meaning Medina. Have I not, told you an account (of the Dajjal) like this? 'The people said: Yes, and this account narrated by Tamim Dari was liked by me for it corroborates the account which I gave to you in regard to him (Dajjal) at Medina and Mecca. Behold he (Dajjal) is in the Syrian sea (Mediterranean) or the Yemen sea (Arabian sea). Nay, on the contrary, he is in the east, he is in the east, he is in the east, and he pointed with his hand towards the east. I (Fatima bint Qais) said: I preserved it in my mind (this narration from Allah's Messenger (ﷺ). Sahih Muslim 2942a https://sunnah.com/muslim:2942a
Prophet Muhammad (SAW) seems to agree with this story as truth (at the least doesn't say that Tamim Dari's experience is total bogus), and says that the dajjal is on earth, existing, alive, and in the east.
Prophet Muhammad (SAW) says "Have I not, told you an account (of the Dajjal) like this?"
The dajjal says he will not spare any town, but Mecca and Medina as angels guard it and prevent him from entering. This is exactly what Prophet Muhammad (SAW) said. Sahih Bukhari 1881 https://sunnah.com/bukhari:1881
Everything the dajjal says in this agrees with what Prophet Muhammad (SAW) says. The dajjal accurately states everything that was going on in Arabia at the time, so we have good reason to believe the dajjal was being accurate when he reportedly said, "I am dajjal and would be soon permitted to get out"
Here, Prophet Muhammad (SAW) says in two narrations that Jesus Christ (AS) will descend from the heavens soon...
Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) said, "By Him in Whose Hands my soul is, son of Mary (Jesus) will shortly descend amongst you people (Muslims) as a just ruler and will break the Cross and kill the pig and abolish the Jizya (a tax taken from the non-Muslims, who are in the protection, of the Muslim government). Then there will be abundance of money and nobody will accept charitable gifts. Sahih Bukhari 2222 https://sunnah.com/bukhari:2222
Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) said, "By Him in Whose Hands my soul is, surely (Jesus,) the son of Mary will soon descend amongst you and will judge mankind justly (as a Just Ruler); he will break the Cross and kill the pigs and there will be no Jizya (i.e. taxation taken from non Muslims). Money will be in abundance so that nobody will accept it, and a single prostration to Allah (in prayer) will be better than the whole world and whatever is in it." Abu Huraira added "If you wish, you can recite (this verse of the Holy Book): -- 'And there is none Of the people of the Scriptures (Jews and Christians) But must believe in him (i.e Jesus as an Apostle of Allah and a human being) Before his death. And on the Day of Judgment He will be a witness Against them." Sahih Bukhari 3448 https://sunnah.com/bukhari:3448
And we have Prophet Muhammad (SAW) waking fearfully and telling Zainab (his wife) some news...
That the Prophet (ﷺ) came to her in a state of fear saying, "None has the right to be worshiped but Allah! Woe to the Arabs because of evil that has come near. Today a hole has been made in the wall of Gog and Magog as large as this." pointing with two of his fingers making a circle. Zainab said, "I said, 'O Allah's Messenger (ﷺ)! Shall we be destroyed though amongst us there are pious people? ' He said, 'Yes, if evil increases." Sahih Bukhari 3598 https://sunnah.com/bukhari:3598
The Prophet (ﷺ) got up from his sleep with a flushed red face and said, "None has the right to be worshipped but Allah. Woe to the Arabs, from the Great evil that is nearly approaching them. Today a gap has been made in the wall of Gog and Magog like this." (Sufyan illustrated by this forming the number 90 or 100 with his fingers.) It was asked, "Shall we be destroyed though there are righteous people among us?" The Prophet (ﷺ) said, "Yes, if evil increased." Sahih Bukhari 7059 https://sunnah.com/bukhari:7059
Zainab bint Jahsh reported that Allah's Apostle (ﷺ) got up from sleep saying: There is no being worthy of worship except Allah; there is a destruction in store for Arabia because of turmoil which is at hand, the barrier of Gog and Magog has opened so much. And Sufyan made a sign of ten with the help of his hand (in order to indicate the width of the gap) and I said: Allah's Messenger, would we be perished in spite of the fact that there would be good people amongst us? Thereupon he said: Of course, but only when the evil predominates. Sahih Muslim 2880a https://sunnah.com/muslim:2880a
Zainab bint Jahsh, the wife of Allah's Apostle (ﷺ), reported that one day Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) came out in a state of excitement with his face quite red. And he was saying: There is no god but Allah; there is a destruction in store for Arabia because of the turmoil which is near at hand as the barrier of Gog and Magog has been opened like it, and he (in order to explain it) made a ring with the help of his thumb and forefinger. I said: Allah's Messenger, would we be destroyed despite the fact that there would be pious people amongst us? He said: Yes, when evil would be predominant. Sahih Muslim 2880c https://sunnah.com/muslim:2880c
Prophet Muhammad (SAW) says that the evil of Gog and Magog is "near" or "near at hand," and the wall containing their people has opened up a little bit.
Here's another prophecy:
The Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) sent us on foot to get spoil, but we returned without getting any. When he saw the signs of distress on our faces, he stood up on our faces and said: O Allah, do not put them under my care, for I would be too weak to care for them; do not put them in care of themselves, for they would be incapable of that, and do not put them in the care of men, for they would choose the best things for themselves. He then placed his hand on my head and said: Ibn Hawalah, when you see the caliphate has settled in the holy land, earthquakes, sorrows and serious matters will have drawn near and on that day the Last Hour will be nearer to mankind than this hand of mine is to your head. Abu Dawud said: 'Abd Allah b. Hawalah belongs to Hims. Sunan Abu Dawud 2535 https://sunnah.com/abudawud:2535
The "holy land" refers to the area roughly known as Israel and Palestine. The caliphate settled in Jersualem around the year 638 by Caliph Umar.
And Allah (SWT) in the Quran says... "The Hour has come near, and the moon has split [in two]." Quran 54:1 https://legacy.quran.com/54/1
Now, "soon," "near at hand," "nearer" and "near" are all relative, and Gog and Magog's wall opening up doesn't necessarily demand it would happen quickly, but with the prior Hadiths mentioning swords, horses, and arrows during the emergence of the dajjal; one may begin to understand how "soon" these things really were expected.
When Prophet Muhammad (SAW) says Jesus (AS) will descend shortly, and says the dajjal will emerge when swords, bows, and horseback are being used; one can understand how 'soon' Jesus was expected to descend (and kill the dajjal).
In conclusion Prophet Muhammad (SAW) says that: 1. The dajjal is on earth, and seems to agree that he will soon emerge. 2. Jesus (AS) will descend soon. 3. Gog and Magog's wall has opened up a bit. Woe to the Arabs for the evil that is nearly approaching them. 4. (Places his hand on companion's head) The last hour will be nearer to the people than his hand is to his head when the caliphate settle in the holy land (which happened in 638). 5. The dajjal will emerge after the conquering of Constantinople. 6. The Romans will be a majority when the last hour comes. 7. They will be using swords, bows, and horses during the conquering of Constantinople and the emergence of the dajjal
And Allah (SWT) says the hour has drawn near.
There's no reason to believe that Prophet Muhammad (SAW) expected the world to go on for atleast another 1400 years.
BONUS:
In this Hadith, Utba b. Ghazwan says that the Muslims were given news of the world's ending, and that's it quite early, (atleast I'm like 85% sure that's what means)...
Utba b. Ghazwan delivered us a sermon and he praised Allah and lauded Him, then said: Now coming to the point, verily the world has been given the news of its end and that too quite early. Nothing would be left out of it but only water left in the utensil which its owner leaves, and you are going to shift to an abode which knows no end, and you should shift with the good before you, for we have been told that a stone would be thrown at one side of the Hell and it would go down even for seventy years but would not be able to reach its bottom. By Allah, it would be fully packed. Do you find it something strange, and it has been mentioned that there yawns a distance which one would be able to cover in forty years from one end to another of Paradise, and a day would come when it would be fully packed and you must be knowing that I was the seventh amongst seven who had been with Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) and we had nothing to eat but the leaves of the tree until the corners of the mouth were injured. (The Hadith goes on, but it doesn't appear relevant and it takes up a lot of space). Sahih Muslim 2967a https://sunnah.com/muslim:2967a
This could support the idea that the Muslims (who knew Prophet Muhammad (SAW) first-hand) did not think the world was going to last terribly long.

Hello everyone! I would like to present to you all a theory that would explain why a double album is not a pipe dream, and actually makes a ton of sense. For this theory we are going to be disregarding the 6/25 stuff, the dots/commas, the 47:14, and all ARG related clues. Instead we are going to look at things that are tangible and verifiable. First the theory:
I believe that originally this album was going to be a longer, normal/deluxe album with around 16-18 songs. It was going to “overcompensate” for scaled and icy. However, after the recording/ video shooting there was going to be a ton of left over time for editing/cgi etc. Tyler and Josh decided that “hey if we added a few more songs with lower budget music videos, we could make it a double album! And we’ve got the time!” So that’s what they did.
The songs they added to make it a double album are: 1. Midwest indigo 2. Routines in the night 3. Vignette 4. Lavish 5. Navigating 6. Oldies station 7. At the risk of feeling dumb
Here are the reasons I believe this: 1. During the livestream Tyler said that routines in the night and navigating would not have made it without Josh pushing for them. Navigating is one of the only 3 lore ones currently, so how could it be removable while keeping this a “lore heavy” album? 2. Every one of these videos seems to have been filmed around the same time of year, wintespring. 3. Tyler in an older interview had said they were working on the next album at the same time as scaled and icy, however in a more recent interview he said they’d only been working on it for the past year. 4. Every one of these videos seems relatively low budget, with pvc pipe and plywood, torches and reused costumes, or no props/cgi at all. At the very least you can clearly see they are lower budget than say overcompensate, next semester, or backslide (which will be relevant for point 7) 5. Some people had theorized they delayed the album because of Billie eilish’s album coming out, but as Tyler has said, he doesn’t care about the billboard charts. I think they were legitimately last minute editing these videos that were filmed this spring. 6. Paladin strait’s music video is not out yet. Tyler said they were still editing. This would be because it is no longer in the same place in the album. I think they added the hello Clancy thing after having this idea. 7. During the livestream at 25:17, just before debuting routines in the night, Tyler slips up and says “overcompensate, next semester, and backslide’s music videos already existed” implying the others were added after the fact. He quickly corrects it to “already out”, but I think it was a Freudian slip.
Anyway that’s just a theory. I might be wrong still, but I think this at least validates those of us expecting a second album. Let me know your thoughts guys!
Edit: also he didn’t seem very bothered by the “album leak” whereas the leak for heathens was a huge deal. Atlantic records literally went to the Supreme Court of New York. And that was just one song let alone an album. So I honestly think it might’ve been a psy-op to throw us off.

I’ve been playing piano for about 8 months now, on-and-off with instructors and with self-directed learning. I have reasonable familiarity with basic easy keys (up to 3 flats/sharps, 4 octave scales). I find I can find (and even arrange) sheet music myself and practice it just fine for a pleasant casual performance for friends, as long as the technique in the piece is within my reach.
What hurts my brain right now is lead sheets! Every time I try to play a piece which I only have a lead sheet for (for example, lots of jazz, some game music) I find that I end up having to memorize chords in my left hand and practice the memorized chords. If I want to change some voicing, I have to effectively relearn my left hand.
I can get decent-sounding stuff out of just memorizing chords, but my question is this: how do you practice voicing pieces with more varied chords without just memorizing your improvisation, thereby turning your chords into… not improv anymore?

Hello everyone!
I have been following the development of Day of Dragons for a long time since its original Kickstarter campaign back in 2019. About how an idea was crafted and sold to the public, a genuine concept with great potential and with unknown consequences. At this point many believe that this game was a scam gone wrong, with the game developer asking for money to make a game and gravely underestimating the popularity that their project would receive. From the lead developer proudly taking credit and keeping his audience in the dark about using bought assets while taking all of the credit from the assets' original creators. Eventually as lies kept piling, people were unfairly banned for concerns regarding the financial management, Day of Dragons truly had barely hatched with its tech demo into the world when the lead developer made it clear that he had no interest or patience. As much as Jao has also claimed to have been destroyed and burnt out by the "YouTube propaganda" that brought all of his lies and truth to light originally. Jao keeps coming back to the drama every single year as attempts to use it as a negative monetising of his project, being a strong believer that if you cannot gain good attention, then even the worst kind of attention is enough.
The alpha stage of development with the tech demo was simply put a survival to its fittest, a desert map with only three known oasis at its release and forcing players to only feed upon other players. It was a massive let down that barely kept players' attention and the player cap quickly dropped after first three weeks of its release. The lead developer's belief of players having to work tirelessly to keep their dragon fed truly matched his ideology. It took months before new assets were bought and first single AI creature was added into the game in hopes to bring players back. It did work for a while but it couldn't keep high player population meant for 100 people alive for long. Clans were quickly established and most largest ones kept all other players from growing to adulthood and though these original clans might not exist here today, there has truly been no difference from the bloodshed from the past.
The beta stage of development was started with the first pay-to-win DLC: an acid dragon that could force all flying dragons (99% of all free playable dragons in the game) into the ground for an easy meal. The Acid Spitter Drake that even to this day despite its decreased health pool, still is fully capable of standing above other free playable dragons. The excuse that we were given for a paid DLC to be the first dragon to be worked on was that "It was the easiest and it had no wings." which brought the public's trust down even further. Truly only the greatest of fans continued to keep holding onto the faith of anything that is being developed a good thing. When the beta stage of development was released to Kickstarter backers and soon the new established Patreon supporters, the second dragon and first FREE playable dragon Shadow Scale was easily brought to its knees in front of the Acid Spitter Drake and this would continue to be the end of time of the beta stage. While Flame Stalker dragon was also developed and released there were a real power struggle and lots of issues with balancing the existing 3 dragons.
After as the approach of the 4th Anniversary of Day of Dragons we were promised that the game would finally let go of its early access (EA) title and strive with pride to full release access. We were promised beautiful visuals of the Unreal Engine 5, brand new free dragons that we had been waited for many years to be released, a new skin and customisation system, and much more! Same promises that that the lead developer had promised so many years ago during the Kickstarter campaign. What exactly happened yet again? After so many promised delays. The 1.0 release was supposed to have been here in 2021. It was delayed due to an excuse of not expecting dragons and artists having cost that much. For a new game and first time game developer it was an acceptable pass, not the favoured one but acceptable regardless. Then half a year later another delay came and flew by, and then another and another and another. All the meanwhile the players and community members have had to walk on eggshells hoping not to say something by accident that would "upset" the lead developer's feelings, over 40 year old man who still lives in his mother's basement and who cries cyber bullying when someone says that the flight system isn't perfect but it could be made with [insert suggestion here] adjustments.
Every year Day of Dragons has received thousands of dollars from Patreon supporters. In 2020 when the Patreon was page Day of Dragons was given a large amount of $7,158 USD in its first year in the website. Then in 2021 the financial support grew to huge $41,571 USD. During the start of Covid in 2022 Day of Dragons received $117,506 USD. During the year of 2023 the Patreon sum was $179,288 USD and so far up to mid 2024 Day of Dragons have been receiving total of $91,235 USD this year.
Patreon has in total of its current lifetime given $436,758 USD to the development of Day of Dragons. Well, not exactly development because the lead developer said that its actually going to pay the comic artist and some of their Discord community (part-time and full time) staff.
The original Kickstarter campaign brought together $533,938 USD and the generous people who came together to support the idea and help bringing it to life were generously thanked by the lead developer and said that "they only paid for the concept of the game, not for its development" when Kickstarter backers asked why they were not receiving as many developer blogs on Kickstarter when the developers had failed to update the Kickstarter page for two months.
While we do not know the exact number of private sales that the lead developer has made and gained through the official Day of Dragons website, what we know for a fact from the use of public internet searches and website statistics is that together Day of Dragons has generated roughly around $970,696 USD (not including private sales. The game has mostly a million dollars in support money and income from selling the game on its official website and Steam, yet the game has been 'recoded' twice and its still as poor state with little to no increases in its game content than what it was between the alpha and beta stages of development.

• The lack of giving basic changes in survivability are horrendous. There is still not enough food in the game and the AI behaviour program still has the same issues from alpha and beta where AI sometimes glitches and doesn't spawn at all.
• The new dragon Biolumer has barely any flowers except in 3 known areas of the map, which at least 2 of these areas are in the open. This is a dragon that gets instantly killed by anything larger than itself and it cannot fight back, and it has to sit in the open areas in order to feed where its easy food for other players.
  • Players are actively being punished for not killing other players, playing in PVE or trying to play a certain dragon because of its flaws. This by common sense is extremely poor game design.
• Forcing players to play in groups: yes, I understand that the entire idea of this game is that you play in groups (clans). However, the fact that the game is so piss poorly balanced and that the game is designed to actively punish players who want to play solo- or with 1 - 2 friends is baffling to me.
  • I will not go into the entire clan dynamics and how toxic the member hierarchies are. However, if you are unable to own 3 - 10 copies of the game and have alternative accounts nesting and spamming eggs, you are already being disqualified from most of the still active clans in the game.
  • Not to mention if you do join a clan and something happens, you will end up being witch hunted, harassed and threats of doxxing and none of the official Day of Dragons staff will lift a finger for you. If this doesn't happen in the official Discord server, you will be left for fend for yourself.
• The poor performance has always been an issue in this game and when I started seeing reports of Day of Dragons causing emergency shut downs on computers because of the overheating of CPU and GPU. You should have alarm bells screaming and to uninstall the game. Doesn't matter if you can run it or not, this game is clearly causing severe damage to computers!
• Last but not least the amount of exact same issues, the same bugs and glitches that have existed since the day dawn of the alpha stage of development and refusal to fix them is just mind blowing to me. If you truly know programming and C++ to bring blueprints together and make a good game like the lead developer has been claiming as the 'master programmer'. Then why do we have years old bugs that many others have given support and help how to fix? No, seriously. Why does Jao ban other programmers from 'his' Discord server who are only trying to help? Oh yes, because they are trying to steal and sabotashe his game.
  • Jao literally sits in Unreal Engine asset Discords and asks how to implement a basic thing because he doesn't know how to do it himself and then comes to Day of Dragons official Discord exclaiming how he knew all along how to do something and takes credit of being the first person ever to implement it. Like seriously?
  • Yet no second programmer can be hired because Jao stages himself up to failure. The lead developer claims that he is bigger and brighter than he is with only 3 years of learning blueprints and not fully knowing what to do with the engine that he has. He barely takes any advice from far more experienced programmers and is quick to throw anybody, including his own developers under the buss (like he did with Echo during February after the backlash on 1.0.0 release), or blames them trying to steal 'his code' made out of YouTube tutorials and already existing blueprints that come by default with the engine or the assets that he has bought.

I apologise if this post is this long. I truly am but to this day I cannot believe how people are still so forgiving towards a lead developer and his 'friends' in staff team for the players and community horribly, dare I even say abuse because of the clear favourite picking, harassment, encouragement of harassment and doxxing attempts. As we all know even the people who have believed that they are supporting the development of the game for years have began to receive the nasty side of the developers and staff. It is rich coming from some person in the United States believing about how privileged he is to gather a group of people, force them to shut their ears for reason, claiming that the internet is lying to you when you are shown Patreon or Steam statistics (from the actual Patreon/Steam websites) and then proceed to brainwash adults and underaged to obedience because "he is some big game developer" who in total honestly just happened to get lucky.
Do not take me wrong, I like many many others wish that this game would be finished, but all of the signs of the lead developer holding back the development because withholding information when there are desperate people willing to keep throwing money at him, just points towards the direction that this game is most likely going to fail. As long as we, the community as a whole and people refuse to act and show that actions have consequences the things are not going to change. After the meltdown and entire shutdown during 2019 because the lead developer lost his cool over the backlash and destroyed his public appearance the first time, there was no changes and he refused to change because there were hard headed people who insisted that Jao did no wrong and blamed someone entirely for Jao's actions. People have kept throwing the project and lead developer money year after year. Jao's behaviour has not changed. His game is barely progressing which is not a surprise because long before 1.0.0 update it was barely being developed in the first place.
If you look at one of the more recent survival games that is currently in progress, such as The Wings of Dawn which also includes playable dragons: their game failed their first Kickstarter campaign and received nothing. Where most would have stopped there because their idea was not sellable, The Wings of Dawn development team kept going without any money. It was their community who pushed and kept pushing the developers to accept Patreon funding, which they eventually did and still receive a small fraction compared to Day of Dragons, yet somehow and in some way, this 2 year old survival game has already completed their first map (working on 2nd map), 5 fully finished and rigged dragon models, playable humans and 3 playable dragons in their TECH DEMO. Yes, a pre-alpha tech demo and its going to be free to play for everyone during The Wings of Dawn next Kickstarter campaign.
Where is Day of Dragons' progress of 5 years? Surely noticing that there is active competition the development should have been sped up, right? We have 3 free playable dragons, 1 Kickstarter "aesthetic" dragon and 1 paid DLC (with 2nd right around the corner). There are no completed map, barely have gotten half of the free dragons that we were promised, no questing system which was promised to be here the last 2 years. No character customisation and breeding system that we were promised at the early stages of beta in Unreal Engine 4 build. Hell, something very simple such as weather which is an easy setup plugin has been hold back in the release because of what? Because it would make the release of the Blitz Striker Ampithere so much bigger deal. You serious? A competitor gets half of the basic shit that we have been waiting for Day of Dragons done in 2 years and receives roughly $2K per month, where as the Day of Dragons receives $17K per month to this day.
So in all honesty what the fuck?
Where has all of that $533,938 USD been going to?
Because it most definitely has not been going for the development. Not all of it.
I do believe that when people say "if you don't like the game leave a preview and uninstall and leave it be" is the best advice in this situation. There comes to a point when a game has received very likely a million dollars in funding, support and sales The raw and sad reality is that people have been enabling and encouraging the lead developer's behaviour by giving him money, lots and lots of their money when Jao has done nothing more than acted very predatory and unlawfully towards his community. If people truly want to help this game to do a turn around then it is time to give the lead developer a reality check: act on those consequences: do not support a developer who's morality and ideology doesn't align with your own. There has been new dragon games coming out which may or may not have been the result of Jao screaming at people to go and make their own game if Day of Dragons is so bad. These are consequences.
Please support games who acknowledge you and respect you as a person. Not just someone's wallet that they can bleed dry. Most importantly look after yourselves and your own health. Only through actions can we teach other people the basics of human interaction. Praise and reward the good behaviour in people when they do good. Do not praise and reward bad behaviour because it will turn very harshly something like this that has been happening and keeps happening in the higher up of Day of Dragons. If it turns out that the lead developer, the owner and CEO of the BeAwesome company refuses to take respect his customers and takes no responsibility of his staff's actions whatsoever. Then let it burn.
We do not need game developers like the ones developing Day of Dragons in game industry. We do not need mini AAA's demanding that we must give money just to be treated somewhat better. We do not need a tiny ass company that acts so big because their egos got inflated by a streak of luck that just played right before their company was even founded. We do not need developers who think that they are validated and able to do horrible things to other people because they are in the status that allows them to become predatory. If Day of Dragons doesn't change, then neither are we required to throw money at people who bite the hands that feeds them.
I apologise that this has been such a long post. Consider this as a very long review of mine about the game and the misgivings that we have had to experience and a reminder that not all game developers act this way. Most of all please remember to respect yourselves as a human being. You should not have to pay someone to be treated differently or have your voice heard. You should never have to pay in order to have your feedback or critique heard, any kind of development or company doesn't work that way and will never succeed with that kind of mentality. Stay safe, stay aware and keep playing games. Except this one.

To clear up a common misconception that this is something that only happens extremely rarely, here's a list of every time more than 4 words have fit one of the categories and what number puzzle it occurred in. The first 4 words are the answers and every word after that in parenthesis are words that fit that category but were part of another group. Also, category names might not be exactly the same as the ones used.

#4 Cleaning Verbs

Possible answers: DUST, MOP, SWEEP, VACUUM, (IRON)

#5 Condiments

Possible answers: KETCHUP, MAYO, RELISH, TARTAR, (MUSTARD)

#5 Clue Characters

Possible answers: GREEN, MUSTARD, PLUM, SCARLET, (PEACOCK)

#6 Shades of Blue

Possible answers: BABY, MIDNIGHT, POWDER, ROYAL, (SEA)

#6 Rappers

Possible answers: COMMON, FUTURE, ICE CUBE, Q-TIP, (CHANCE)

#9 Shirts

Possible answers: CAMI, HALTER, TANK, TEE, (POLO)

#9 Vegetables

Possible answers: BEET, CARROT, CORN, ONION, (SQUASH)

#9 Insects

Possible answers: ANT, BEETLE, MANTIS, TERMITE, (CRICKET)

#10 Countries

Possible answers: CHAD, GEORGIA, JORDAN, TOGO, (TURKEY)

#10 Birds

Possible answers: CRANE, JAY, TURKEY, SWALLOW, (KIWI)

#11 Spices

Possible answers: CARDAMOM, CLOVE, CORIANDER, CUMIN, (GINGER)

#11 Terms of Endearment

Possible answers: BOO, HONEY, SUGAR, SWEETIE, (BABY)

#12 Animal Group Names

Possible answers: FLOCK, PACK, POD, SCHOOL, (PRIDE)

#12 Deadly Sins

Possible answers: ENVY, GREED, LUST, PRIDE, (SLOTH)

#13 Airlines

Possible answers: FRONTIER, SPIRIT, UNITED, VIRGIN, (DELTA)

#13 Greek Letters

Possible answers: BETA, CHI, DELTA, IOTA, (NU)

#13 Silent G's

Possible answers: GNAT, GNAW, GNOCCHI, GNOME, (GNU)

#14 Famous Brothers

Possible answers: JONAS, MARX, WARNER, WRIGHT, (MARIO)

#14 Honda Vehicles

Possible answers: ACCORD, CIVIC, PASSPORT, PILOT, (CANOPY)

#15 Colors

Possible answers: BROWN, PINK, TURQUOISE, VIOLET, (SILVER)

#15 Fishing Equipment

Possible answers: LURE, REEL, ROD, TACKLE, (HOOK)

#16 Nuts

Possible answers: ALMOND, CASHEW, PECAN, WALNUT (PEANUT)

#17 Neck Accessories

Possible answers: ASCOT, BOLO, TIE, SCARF, (BOW)

#19 Disagreement

Possible answers: QUARREL, ROW, SPAT, TIFF, QUARREL, (BEEF)

#20 Grains

Possible answers: BARLEY, OAT, RYE, SPELT, (RICE)

#20 Royal Titles

Possible answers: BARON, EARL, KING, PRINCE, (DUKE)

#23 60's Band Member

Possible answers: BEACH BOY, BEATLE, BYRD, MONKEE, (ROLLING STONE)

#23 Dance Fads

Possible answers: DOUGIE, MACARENA, MASHED POTATO, TWIST, (VOGUE)

#25 Desserts

Possible answers: CHEESECAKE, FLAN, MOUSSE, TIRAMISU, (FUDGE)

#25 Animals with Tusks

Possible answers: ELEPHANT, HIPPO, NARWHAL, WARTHOG, (WALRUS)

#26 Countries (Holland is technically a region but it's often used as an informal name for the Netherlands)

Possible answers: DENMARK, GREECE, POLAND, PORTUGAL, (HOLLAND)

#26 Spelled with Roman Numerals

Possible answers: DILL, LIVID, MILD, MIX, (MIMIC)

#27 Body Parts

Possible answers: HEART, LIVER, LUNG, KIDNEY, (SPINE)

#28 File Extensions

Possible answers: GIF, PDF, TIFF, ZIP, (DOC)

#28 Fruits

Possible answers: BANANA, COCONUT, MANGO, PINEAPPLE, (KIWI)

#30 Joints

Possible answers: HIP, KNEE, SHOULDER, WRIST, (ELBOW)

#33 Boats

Possible answers: FERRY, JUNK, TUG, YACHT, (SUB)

#33 Cuts of Beef

Possible answers: FLANK, LOIN, ROUND, SHANK, (CHUCK)

#34 Smell

Possible answers: AROMA, BOUQUET, FRAGRANCE, SCENT, (FUNK)

#34 Music Genres

Possible answers: BLUES, COUNTRY, FUNK, SOUL, (ROCK)

#35 Metals

Possible answers: IRON, LEAD, TIN, ZINC, (NICKEL)

#36 Animals

Possible answers: KANGAROO, KOALA, WALLABY, WOMBAT, (MOLE RAT)

#38 Trees

Possible answers: ASH, CEDAR, MAPLE, PINE, (ELM)

#38 Land Formation

Possible answers: HILL, MOUNTAIN, PLATEAU, VALLEY, (PLAIN)

#38 Bagel Flavors

Possible answers: EVERYTHING, ONION, PLAIN, POPPY, (SESAME)

#41 Islands

Possible answers: CUBA, JAPAN, MALTA, PALAU, (FIJI), (JAVA)

#42 Punctuation Marks

Possible answers: COLON, COMMA, HYPHEN, PERIOD, (DASH)

#43 Birds

Possible answers: BOOBY, GULL, PELICAN, PUFFIN, (CANARY)

#45 Modes of Transportation

Possible answers: BOAT, CAR, PLANE, TRAIN, (SUBWAY)

#46 Cities

Possible answers: CHICAGO, MUNICH, PHILADELPHIA, RIO, (MANHATTAN)

#46 Fashion Magazines

Possible answers: ALLURE, ELLE, GLAMOUR, W, (COSMOPOLITAN)

#46 Storms

Possible answers: BLIZZARD, CYCLONE, SQUALL, TORNADO, (HURRICANE)

#48 Apparitions

Possible answers: GHOST, PHANTOM, SPECTER, SPIRIT, (GENIE)

#49 Relatives

Possible answers: AUNT, COUSIN, MOTHER, NEPHEW, (GRANDFATHER)

#49 Offbeat

Possible answers: DAFFY, KOOKY, QUIRKY, WACKY, (CUCKOO)

#49 Fictional Ducks

Possible answers: DAISY, DEWEY, DONALD, SCROOGE, (DAFFY)

#50 Imperial Measurements

Possible answers: FOOT, INCH, MILE, YARD, (QUART)

#52 Rodents

Possible answers: GERBIL, HAMSTER, RAT, VOLE, (MOUSE)

#52 Musical Instruments

Possible answers: HARP, HORN, ORGAN, TRIANGLE, (KEYBOARD)

#52 Complain

Possible answers: CARP, GRIPE, GROUSE, MOAN, (HARP)

#53 Animal Group Names

Possible answers: COLONY, HERD, PRIDE, SWARM, (FAMILY)

#53 AP Classes

Possible answers: BIO, CHEM, GOV, STATS, (LIT)

#54 Places for Worship

Possible answers: ALTAR, RELIQUARY, SHRINE, TEMPLE, (ABBEY)

#54 Presidents

Possible answers: CALVIN, CHESTER, GROVER, HARRY, (GARFIELD)

#56 Dances

Possible answers: HUSTLE, SALSA, SWING, TANGO, (TAP)

#57 Patterns

Possible answers: HOUNDSTOOTH, PAISLEY, PLAID, STRIPES, (DOT)

#58 Arachnids

Possible answers: MITE, SCORPION, SPIDER, TICK, (BLACK WIDOW)

#58 Fish

Possible answers: CHAR, EEL, PERCH, SHARK, (CATFISH)

#58 Superheroes

Possible answers: BLACK WIDOW, BLADE, FLASH, STORM, (TICK)

#59 Quantity

Possible answers: FEW, HANDFUL, SEVERAL, SOME, (PAIR)

#59 Celestial Objects

Possible answers: ASTEROID, COMET, MOON, PLANET, (SUN)

#60 Sports Venues

Possible answers: COURT, DIAMOND, FIELD, RINK, (RING)

#60 Jewelry

Possible answers: ANKLET, BANGLE, BROOCH, PENDANT, (RING), (CHARM)

#62 State Abbreviations

Possible answers: CO, MA, ME, PA, (LA)

#62 Period Table Symbols

Possible answers: FE, HE, NA, NI, (CO), (PA), (LA), (TI)

#63 Slang for Zero

Possible answers: JACK, NADA, NOTHING, SQUAT, (ZIP)

#63 Exercises

Possible answers: CURL, LUNGE, PLANK, PRESS, (SQUAT), (CRUNCH)

#63 Captains

Possible answers: CRUNCH, KANGAROO, OBVIOUS, PLANET, (JACK)

#64 Dog Names

Possible answers: FIDO, LUCKY, ROVER, SPOT, (REX)

#64 Perceive

Possible answers: CATCH, NOTICE, OBSERVE, SEE, (SPOT)

#64 Fishing Terms

Possible answers: BAIT, CHUM, FLY, SINKER, (CATCH)

#65 Energy

Possible answers: JUICE, SPIRIT, STEAM, VIGOR, (GAS), (FIRE)

#66 Time Periods

Possible answers: CENTURY, DECADE, MILLENNIUM, YEAR, (MONTH)

#66 Breakfast Foods

Possible answers: CEREAL, OMELET, PANCAKE, WAFFLE, (BACON), (EGG)

#67 Desserts

Possible answers: CAKE, COBBLER, PIE, TART, (FUDGE)

#67 Occupations

Possible answers: FISHER, MASON, MILLER, SMITH, (DOCTOR)

#68 Extremely

Possible answers: AWFUL, QUITE, SUPER, VERY, (REAL)

#68 Currencies

Possible answers: RAND, REAL, STERLING, WON, (POUND)

#68 _____Cake

Possible answers: CARROT, COFFEE, POUND, SPONGE, (CUP)

#69 Shoes

Possible answers: CLOG, PUMP, SLIDE, WEDGE, (MARY JANE)

#69 Slang for Marijuana

Possible answers: GRASS, HERB, MARY JANE, WEED, (BUD), (POT)

#70 Camping Supplies

Possible answers: COOLER, LANTERN, SLEEPING BAG, TENT, (CAMPER)

#70 Insult

Possible answers: BARB, DIG, DISS, JAB, (SLIGHT)

#71 States

Possible answers: ARIZONA, COLORADO, NEVADA, UTAH, (KANSAS), (MONTANA)

#72 Santa's Reindeer

Possible answers: COMET, CUPID, DASHER, VIXEN, (DANCER)

#72 Seen on Valentine's Day

Possible answers: CARD, HEART, CHOCOLATE, ROSE, (CUPID)

#73 Facial Hair

Possible answers: BEARD, GOATEE, MUSTACHE, STUBBLE, (HANDLEBAR)

#73 Pursue

Possible answers: DOG, FOLLOW, TAIL, TRACK, (SHADOW)

#74 Failures

Possible answers: BUSTS, FLOPS, MISSES, TURKEYS, (DUDS)

#75 Social Gathering

Possible answers: BASH, BLOWOUT, PARTY, SHINDIG, (MIXER)

#75 Found in a Kitchen

Possible answers: COUNTER, MIXER, RANGE, SINK, (ISLAND)

#79 Depart Quickly

Possible answers: BOOK, BOUNCE, RUN, SPLIT, (JET)

#79 Shades of Black

Possible answers: EBONY, JET, ONYX, RAVEN, (BLACK)

#80 Influence

Possible answers: CLOUT, PULL, WEIGHT, SWAY, (IMPACT)

#81 Appetizer Unit

Possible answers: FRY, NACHO, POPPER, WING, (CHIP), (CRACKER)

#81 Response to a Correct Answer

Possible answers: BINGO, CORRECT, RIGHT, YES, (DING)

#82 Drink Vessels

Possible answers: GOBLET, SNIFTER, TUMBLER, STEIN, (FLUTE)

#82 Woodwinds

Possible answers: CLARINET, FLUTE, OBOE, SAXOPHONE, (BASSOON)

#82 American Poets

Possible answers: BISHOP, FROST, OLDS, POUND, (STEIN)

#83 Unclothed

Possible answers: BARE, NAKED, NUDE, UNCLAD, (BUFF)

#83 Football Actions

Possible answers: FUMBLE, PUNT, SACK, SNAP, (TURNOVER)

#83 Finger Actions

Possible answers: BUFF, CLIP, FILE, POLISH, (SNAP)

#84 Female Animals

Possible answers: COW, DOE, HEN, MARE, (EWE)

#84 Pronouns

Possible answers: I, IT, THEY, WE, (YOU)

#84 Roman Numerals

Possible answers: D, L, M, V, (I)

#86 Information Displays

Possible answers: CHART, DIAGRAM, GRAPH, MAP, (PIE)

#86 Additional Benefit

Possible answers: BONUS, EXTRA, ICING, PERK, (GRAVY)

#86 Creatures in Folklore

Possible answers: GNOME, GOBLIN, OGRE, TROLL, (DRAGON)

#89 Alcohol

Possible answers: CIDER, PORT, SAKE, STOUT, (SPIRIT), (SCOTCH)

#89 Pixar Movies

Possible answers: BRAVE, CARS, COCO, UP, (SOUL)

#90 Baseball Calls

Possible answers: BALL, OUT, SAFE, STRIKE, (WALK)

#90 Fish

Possible answers: CARP, CATFISH, FLOUNDER, SMELT, (SALMON)

#91 Jungle Animals

Possible answers: ANACONDA, CAPYBARA, JAGUAR, TOUCAN, (LION)

#91 Lowest Point

Possible answers: BASE, BOTTOM, FOOT, FOUNDATION, (LEGS)

#92 Halloween Decorations

Possible answers: BAT, COBWEB, PUMPKIN, TOMBSTONE, (BONES)

#93 Animal Sounds

Possible answers: BUZZ, CLUCK, MEOW, OINK, (BARK)

#93 Inside Info

Possible answers: DIRT, DISH, SCOOP, SKINNY, (TEA)

#95 Songs that are Names

Possible answers: ALEJANDRO, LOLA, MICHELLE, STAN, (IRIS)

#96 Animals

Possible answers: BUFFALO, COW, GOAT, SHEEP, (HORSE)

#96 Gymnastics Apparatus

Possible answers: FLOOR, HORSE, RINGS, VAULT, (BEAM)

#97 Fairy Tale Figures

Possible answers: GIANT, PRINCESS, WITCH, WOLF, (QUEEN)

#97 "Peanuts" Characters

Possible answers: CHARLIE, PEPPERMINT PATTY, PIGPEN, WOODSTOCK, (LUCY)

#98 Fruits

Possible answers: APRICOT, FIG, GRAPE, LIME, (BERRY)

#98 Luxurious

Possible answers: DELUXE, GRAND, LAVISH, OPULENT, (SWANK)

#99 Intelligent

Possible answers: BRIGHT, CLEVER, QUICK, SHARP, (SMART)

#100 Web Browser-Related

Possible answers: BOOKMARK, HISTORY, TAB, WINDOW, (LINK), (POCKET)

#100 Dirty_____

Possible answers: DOZEN, JOKE, LAUNDRY, MARTINI, (WINDOW)

#101 Bowling Terms

Possible answers: ALLEY, BALL, LANE, PIN, (SPARE)

#101 Common Merch Items

Possible answers: MUG, PEN, TEE, TOTE, (PIN)

#102 Vehicles

Possible answers: BUS, CAR, MOTORCYCLE, TRUCK, (SCOOTER)

#102 Muppets

Possible answers: ANIMAL, BEAKER, GONZO, SCOOTER, (CHEF), (PIGGY)

#103 Soda Fountain Orders (Concrete can mean a type of milkshake or frozen custard)

Possible answers: FLOAT, MALT, SHAKE, SUNDAE, (CONCRETE), (SPLIT)

#104 Robust

Possible answers: FIT, HEALTHY, SOUND, STRONG, (WELL)

#104 Water Sources

Possible answers: FOUNTAIN, SPRING, TAP, WELL, (SINK)

#105 Kitchen Utensils

Possible answers: GRATER, LADLE, PEELER, WHISK, (CLEAVER)

#106 Wedding Items

Possible answers: BOUQUET, RING, TRAIN, VEIL, (CAKE)

#106 Encase

Possible answers: CAKE, COAT, COVER, CRUST, (VEIL)

#107 Snakes

Possible answers: BOA, MAMBA, PYTHON, VIPER, (GARTER)

#108 Produced by Trees

Possible answers: ACORN, CONE, POLLEN, SAP, (GUM), (NEEDLE)

#108 Candy

Possible answers: CHOCOLATE, GUM, LICORICE, LOLLIPOP, (SUCKER)

#108 Target of a Scheme

Possible answers: CHUMP, FOOL, MARK, SUCKER, (SAP)

#109 Rap Subgenres

Possible answers: BOUNCE, CRUNK, DRILL, GRIME, (TRAP)

#110 Golf Clubs

Possible answers: IRON, PUTTER, WEDGE, WOOD, (CLUB)

#112 Coffee Counter Items

Possible answers: CUP, LID, STIRRER, STRAW, (STICK)

#114 Talk

Possible answers: BLATHER, CHAT, GAB, JABBER, (YAK)

#115 Christmas-Related

Possible answers: MISTLETOE, REINDEER, SNOWMAN, STOCKING, (PRESENT), (CANDY CANE)

#116 MLB Teams

Possible answers: ANGEL, CUB, MET, RED, (NAT)

#119 Celebratory Occasion

Possible answers: ANNIVERSARY, BIRTHDAY, SHOWER, WEDDING, (RECEPTION), (SERVICE)

#120 Crops

Possible answers: CORN, CUCUMBER, PEPPER, TOMATO, (MELON)

#121 Bible Books

Possible answers: ACTS, JOB, KINGS, MARK, (GENESIS)

#121 NHL Teams

Possible answers: FLAMES, KRAKEN, STARS, WILD, (KINGS), (RANGER)

#123 Conceal

Possible answers: BLOCK, COVER, HIDE, MASK, (SHIELD)

#124 "L" Cities

Possible answers: LAGOS, LIMERICK, LINCOLN, LUXOR, (LIMA)

#124 Poetry Terms

Possible answers: LINE, METER, RHYME, VERSE, (LIMERICK)

#125 Butt

Possible answers: BOTTOM, BUNS, SEAT, TAIL, (BOOTY)

#126 Tools

Possible answers: HAMMER, FILE, LEVEL, SAW, (WRENCH)

#126 Keyboard Shortcuts

Possible answers: COPY, FIND, PRINT, SAVE, (FILE)

#127 Days of the Week

Possible answers: FRIDAY, SATURDAY, SUNDAY, THURSDAY, (WEDNESDAY), (TUESDAY)

#127 Go Bad

Possible answers: ROT, SOUR, SPOIL, TURN, (FESTER)

#129 Bit of Air

Possible answers: BREEZE, DRAFT, GUST, PUFF, (PANT)

#130 Falsify

Possible answers: FABRICATE, FAKE, FIX, FORGE, (FUDGE)

#130 TV Shows

Possible answers: FARGO, FIREFLY, FLEABAG, FLIPPER, (FRIENDS)

#131 Animal Homes

Possible answers: DEN, LAIR, HIVE, NEST, (WEB), (WARREN)

#131 Equitable

Possible answers: EQUAL, EVEN, FAIR, JUST, (GOOD)

#132 Tableware

Possible answers: BOWL, DISH, PLATE, SAUCER, (CROCK), (CUP)

#133 British Food

Possible answers: MASH, ROAST, SCONE, TRIFLE, (BANGER)

#133 Predicament

Possible answers: BIND, PICKLE, SCRAPE, SPOT, (JAM)

#134 Impel

Possible answers: DRIVE, INSPIRE, MOTIVATE, SPUR, (SPARK)

#135 Compound Words

Possible answers: BACKPACK, BIGWIG, DOWNTOWN, RAGTAG, (TEXTBOOK)

#136 Grammar Tenses

Possible answers: FUTURE, PAST, PERFECT, PRESENT, (SIMPLE)

#136 The 12 Days of Christmas

Possible answers: DRUMMER, LADY, RING, SWAN, (LORD)

#137 Excellent

Possible answers: ACES, KEEN, NEATO, NIFTY, (SWELL)

#137 Bubbles

Possible answers: FOAM, FROTH, HEAD, LATHER, (BUBBLE)

#138 Metals

Possible answers: COPPER, GOLD, NICKEL, SILVER, (BRASS), (MERCURY)

#139 Aesthetics

Possible answers: DRESS, LOOK, MANNER, STYLE, (TASTE)

#140 Mishmash

Possible answers: HASH, JUMBLE, MEDLEY, STEW, (LITTER)

#143 Filler Words

Possible answers: ERM, UH, UM, WELL, (LIKE), (ER)

#146 Clue Weapons

Possible answers: CANDLESTICK, KNIFE, ROPE, WRENCH, (PIPE)

#147 Unchanging

Possible answers: EVEN, LEVEL, STABLE, STEADY, (UNIFORM)

#147 Long, Sharp Objects

Possible answers: LANCE, PIN, SKEWER, SPIT, (PITCHFORK)

#148 Musical Format

Possible answers: LP, PLATTER, VINYL, WAX, (CD)

#148 Cube-Shaped

Possible answers: BOUILLON, DIE, ICE, SUGAR, (STOCK)

#150 Equivocate

Possible answers: HEDGE, SEE-SAW, WAVER, YO-YO, (FLIP-FLOP), (WAFFLE)

#151 Podcasts

Possible answers: RADIOLAB, SERIAL, UP FIRST, WTF, (FRESH AIR), (REPLY ALL)

#152 Intelligent

Possible answers: BRIGHT, QUICK, SHARP, SMART, (SAGE)

#152 Medieval Weapons

Possible answers: CLUB, MACE, SPEAR, SWORD, (AXE)

#153 Filmmaking Equipment

Possible answers: BOOM, DOLLY, LENS, TRIPOD, (GRIP)

#154 Sports Professionals

Possible answers: COACH, GM, PLAYER, SCOUT, (SUB)

#154 Car Companies

Possible answers: BMW, HONDA, JAGUAR, SUBARU, (FORD), (GM)

#156 Vocal Fanfare

Possible answers: BEHOLD, PRESTO, TADA, VOILA, (SURPRISE)

#157 Magazines

Possible answers: O, OK, US, W, (EW), (SI)

#157 Yes

Possible answers: HAI, JA, SI, DA, (OK), (OUI)

#158 Animals

Possible answers: BUFFALO, DEER, FISH, MOOSE, (BULL), (STEER), (SEAL)

#160 Quick Observation

Possible answers: GANDER, GLANCE, GLIMPSE, LOOK, (PEEK)

#160 Parts of a Mountain

Possible answers: CLIFF, CRAG, LEDGE, RIDGE, (BLUFF), (PEAK)

#161 _____Day

Possible answers: EARTH, GROUNDHOG, LABOR, MAY, (BIRTH)

#162 Primates

Possible answers: BABOON, BONOBO, GIBBON, GORILLA, (APE)

#162 Fashionable

Possible answers: CHIC, HIP, HOT, IN, (VOGUE)

#164 Area Between Mountains

Possible answers: CANYON, GULCH, PASS, RAVINE, (GORGE)

#165 Food

Possible answers: PASTY, PIE, TART, TURNOVER, (PARFAIT), (RAGOUT), (CURRY)

#165 Countries

Possible answers: JAPAN, POLAND, TUNISIA, TURKEY, (JORDAN)

#166 Reality Shows

Possible answers: ALONE, CATFISH, CHOPPED, SURVIVOR, (BACHELOR)

#168 Municipalities

Possible answers: CITY, TOWN, COUNTY, VILLAGE, (CAPITAL)

#171 Parts of the Foot

Possible answers: ARCH, BALL, SOLE, TOE, (HEEL)

#171 Dog Commands

Possible answers: COME, DOWN, SIT, STAY, (HEEL)

#173 Ways to Remove Hair

Possible answers: SHAVE, THREAD, TWEEZE, WAX, (CUT)

#174 Hold Back

Possible answers: CAP, CHECK, CURB, LIMIT, (HAMPER)

#175 Excite, with "Up"

Possible answers: AMP, FIRE, HYPE, PUMP, (GAS)

#177 TV Shows

Possible answers: CHEERS, EUPHORIA, FELICITY, GLEE, (FRASIER)

#178 Found on Sheet Music

Possible answers: CLEF, NOTE, REST, STAFF, (SCALES)

#178 Zodiac Symbols

Possible answers: BULL, CRAB, SCALES, TWINS, (VIRGIN)

#180 Absolute

Possible answers: PURE, SHEER, TOTAL, UTTER, (STARK)

#180 Express

Possible answers: AIR, SPEAK, STATE, VOICE, (UTTER)

#181 Cooking Oils

Possible answers: CORN, OLIVE, PALM, PEANUT, (RICE)

#183 Luxurious Fabrics

Possible answers: CHIFFON, SILK, SATIN, VELVET, (LACE)

#185 -ough

Possible answers: BOUGH, COUGH, DOUGH, TOUGH, (ROUGH), (ENOUGH)

#189 Used to Build a Snowman

Possible answers: CARROT, COAL, SNOW, STICKS, (STONES)

#190 NYC Avenues

Possible answers: BROADWAY, FIFTH, MADISON, PARK, (SECOND), (FIRST), (ELEVENTH)

#191 Accessories

Possible answers: BELT, BRACELET, TIE, WATCH, (CHARM)

#199 Name Prefixes

Possible answers: GEN, MS, PROF, REV, (DR)

#200 Parts of a Car

Possible answers: BUMPER, HOOD, TIRE, TRUNK, (DASH)

#201 Single Letter Homophones

Possible answers: BEE, EX, GEE, JAY, (TEE)

#203 New Years-Related

Possible answers: BALL, COUNTDOWN, FIREWORKS, KISS, (PARTY), (RESOLUTION), (CHAMPAGNE)

#207 Gift-Giving Accessories

Possible answers: BOW, BOX, CARD, WRAPPING, (MESSAGE)

#210 Kinds of Exams

Possible answers: BAR, FINAL, ORAL, PHYSICAL, (EYE)

#211 Long, Skinny Objects

Possible answers: POLE, ROD, STAFF, STICK, (CLUB)

#212 Cooking Elements

Possible answers: ACID, FAT, HEAT, SALT, (PEPPER), (SMOKE)

#213 Seen at a Casino

Possible answers: CARDS, CHIPS, DICE, SLOTS, (POKER)

#213 Ways to Prepare Cheese

Possible answers: CRUMBLE, MELT, SHRED, SLICE, (GRATE)

#217 Thieve

Possible answers: PINCH, ROB, STEAL, SWIPE, (JACK)

#218 Medicine Formats

Possible answers: CAPSULE, CREAM, SYRUP, TABLET, (POD)

#221 Colors

Possible answers: BLUE, GREEN, WHITE, YELLOW, (SCARLET)

#222 Minced Oaths

Possible answers: CURSES, DARN, RATS, SHOOT, (FUDGE), (NUTS)

#224 Contains Wax

Possible answers: CANDLE, CRAYON, HONEYCOMB, SEAL, (EAR)

#229 Baseball-Related

Possible answers: BALL, BASE, BAT, GLOVE, (STRIKE)

#233 Mario Power-ups

Possible answers: FEATHER, STAR, MUSHROOM, FLOWER, (HAMMER)

#234 _____Pit

Possible answers: BARBECUE, ORCHESTRA, SNAKE, TAR, (FIRE)

#235 Make Shorter

Possible answers: CLIP, CUT, PARE, TRIM, (PRUNE)

#235 Muscular

Possible answers: BUILT, JACKED, RIPPED, SWOLE, (TRIM), (BUFF)

#237 Farm Fixtures

Possible answers: COOP, PEN, STABLE, STY, (RANGE)

#238 Unexciting

Possible answers: BORING, DULL, MUNDANE, VANILLA, (ROUTINE), (DRY)

#239 Ecclesiastical Titles

Possible answers: BISHOP, CARDINAL, PASTOR, PRIOR, (BROTHER), (LORD)

#251 Media Attention

Possible answers: COVERAGE, EXPOSURE, PRESS, PUBLICITY, (MEDIA)

#254 Little Bit of Liquid

Possible answers: BEAD, GLOB, DROP, TEAR, (DRIP)

#257 Shades of Green

Possible answers: OLIVE, FOREST, LIME, MINT, (CACTUS)

#260 Ilk

Possible answers: KIND, SORT, TYPE, VARIETY, (MANNER)

#263 Propel into the Air

Possible answers: HOP, JUMP, LEAP, SPRING, (VAULT)

#266 Large Amount

Possible answers: MASS, SEA, SLEW, TON, (WAVE)

#266 Fall under Pressure

Possible answers: BUCKLE, CAVE, COLLAPSE, GIVE, (FLOP)

#268 Pop Stars

Possible answers: GRANDE, MARS, STYLES, SWIFT, (LEGEND)

#269 Found at an Airport

Possible answers: HANGAR, RUNWAY, TARMAC, TERMINAL, (WINDSOCK)

#269 Ends in an Article of Clothing (A Mac is a raincoat)

Possible answers: FOXGLOVE, GUMSHOE, TURNCOAT, WINDSOCK, (TARMAC), (LAWSUIT)

#271 Food Preservation Techniques

Possible answers: CAN, CURE, DRY, FREEZE, (SPICE)

#272 Space_____

Possible answers: BAR, CADET, HEATER, STATION, (BLANKET)

#273 Keyboard Keys

Possible answers: COMMAND, CONTROL, OPTION, SHIFT, (SPACE)

#283 Seen at a Sports Stadium

Possible answers: ASTROTURF, JUMBOTRON, SCOREBOARD, SKYBOX, (KISSCAM), (JOURNEYMAN)

#284 Animals

Possible answers: COW, DOE, HEN, EWE, (YAK)

#284 Palindromes

Possible answers: BIB, EYE, GAG, POP, (EWE)

#285 Olympic Sports

Possible answers: BREAKING, HOCKEY, TRAMPOLINE, SKELETON, (CRICKET), (SQUASH), (VOLLEYBALL)

#289 Plant Growths

Possible answers: BLOOM, BUD, SHOOT, SPROUT, (CORONA)

#290 Quarrel

Possible answers: FIGHT, ROW, SCRAP, TIFF, (WAR)

#290 Games of Chance (Poker is technically a game of skill but it's still highly associated with chance)

Possible answers: BINGO, LOTTERY, ROULETTE, WAR, (POKER)

#291 Whale Species

Possible answers: BLUE, FIN, GRAY, RIGHT, (PILOT)

#293 Food Preservation Techniques

Possible answers: CANS, CURES, SALTS, SMOKES, (JAMS), (PICKLES)

#296 Thrust

Possible answers: JAB, POKE, PROD, STICK, (ELBOW)

#301 _____Horse

Possible answers: CHARLEY, CRAZY, DARK, GIFT, (PRIZE)

#302 Brief Moment

Possible answers: FLASH, HEARTBEAT, JIFF, WINK, (ZIP)

#302 Dispute

Possible answers: CLASH, TANGLE, SCRAP, TIFF, (SPAT)

#303 Hair Care Items

Possible answers: BRUSH, COMB, DRYER, IRON, (OIL)

#307 Seen at the Circus

Possible answers: CLOWN, RING, TENT, TRAPEZE, (LION)

#310 Parts of a Theatre

Possible answers: BALCONY, BOX, ORCHESTRA, STAGE, (FLOOR)

#312 Golden_____

Possible answers: FLEECE, GIRLS, PARACHUTE, RULE, (MEAN)

#315 Starting with the Same Sound

Possible answers: CYMBAL, SCIMITAR, SIMMER, SYMPHONY, (SYMBOL)

#318 Mexican Food-Related

Possible answers: CILANTRO, LIME, ONION, SALSA, (PICO), (WRAP), (MOLE)

#328 _____Sale

Possible answers: BAKE, CLEARANCE, GARAGE, SAMPLE, (YARD)

#329 Enjoy

Possible answers: FANCY, LOVE, RELISH, SAVOR, (LIKE)

#330 Quantity

Possible answers: FEW, MANY, SEVERAL, SOME, (COUPLE), (HANDFUL)

#333 Restrict

Possible answers: CHECK, CONTAIN, CURB, LIMIT, (CAP)

#339 Forthright

Possible answers: DIRECT, FRANK, OPEN, STRAIGHT, (PLAIN)

#342 Games

Possible answers: CATEGORIES, CHARADES, FISHBOWL, WEREWOLF, (MOUSETRAP)

#345 Billiards-Related

Possible answers: BALL, CHALK, CUE, RACK, (POCKET)

#348 Things You can Crack

Possible answers: EGG, KNUCKLES, SMILE, WINDOW, (CORN)

#351 _____Iron

Possible answers: PUMP, STEAM, TIRE, WAFFLE, (FLAT)

#355 Things People Shake

Possible answers: HANDS, MARACA, POLAROID, SNOWGLOBE, (BODY)

SYNOPSIS: Walking your OP monster girlfriend home is easy. No one messes with you. Getting back to your house on your own? That's the tricky part.
In the deepest darkness, Norman is alone. Well, not quite alone. Some things are in there with him.
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Norman was intimately familiar with the dark. He’d run and battled his way home beneath moonless skies shrouded by clouds more times than he could … okay, no, he could count them. Sometimes, his oxygen-drunk brain’s photographic memory seemed to turn him square. In any event, within the eyescraper was a darkness he had never known. It was cold, heavy, almost thick enough to touch, taste and smell. Well, maybe the smell had something to do with walking through the humid innards of an eyescraper. The air almost felt like liquid. The worst part? He knew what the dark was.
He knew there was no escape.
However, he also knew what a human was. They created possibilities where there were none. If there wasn’t a way out, he’d make one … and maybe get a few licks into the ‘rasta vampire’ who wrecked his smitelight.
Speaking of which, where was that guy?
John Crow might be right there, sneering over his shoulder. Or not. In this kind of darkness, who could know? Nonetheless, being unable to locate his eldritch tour guide give Norman the chance to examine his surroundings.
The nightsight didn’t need much. Just starlight, or maybe ambient luminosity from brighter regions of the city in the distance. It could even pick up moonlight filtered through the clouds, but in here? He could see maybe a few feet of shadowy shapes before the void claimed all. Infrared and other exotic settings didn’t fare much better. There was a way to get more light, but Norman was saving that, just in case. It wouldn’t do to trigger an attack from whatever lurked in the dark when he wasn’t ready to hit back. With his backpack snatched away by unseen forces the moment he entered the building, his options were limited.
Norman looked down. Even through his shoes, the ground had felt soft … no … squishy. At first glance, it seemed he was standing on a twist carpet. Upon closer inspection, there were no, thick, twisting strings of shaggy fluff. Instead?
Villi.
Maybe not quite, but they sure looked like villi. The finger-like protrusions of flesh wiggled at his shoes as though tasting them. He wondered what would happen if he wasn’t wearing prowlers.
Norman caught movement at the side of his eye.
He turned to look, not too quickly, not too slowly. The vaguest silhouettes stood before what vaguely appeared to be a window. At least he could see that much now. Stubby silhouettes, like The Neighbourhood Watchman. Not as stocky, but strong enough to pinch a penny in half between their greedy, grubby fingers.
They seemed to be staring at him, talking amongst themselves, but he couldn’t hear them. It appeared that they could see him. His nightsight was supposed to be better than nyctal vision. Maybe the darkness he experienced was specifically for him, like a one-way mirror.
Wait, they were pointing. Based on the rhythmic movement of their torsos … were they laughing at him!?!
Okay, it was officially Amy Time, except Norman had already tried to message her a dozen times. With tech like the nightsight? Of course he’d give it smartphone capabilities. In fact, its O.S. was based on open-source code from Golden Apple’s earlier days, adapted and updated with his own personal software.
Only, it wasn’t working.

__CHAT

• ARN74: WHY AREN’T YOU TRYING TO MESSAGE AMY!?! YOU OBVIOUSLY NEED HER HELP! I THOUGHT YOU WERE DIFFERENT!

Norman grimaced. Why did that troll of all people have to share his thought process?

__CHAT

• LEMMY_OUTA_HERE: Why aren’t you out there helping him?
• ARN74: SHUT UP! Norman i KNOW you’re the type of egghead to install smartphone abilities into the nightsight just because! MESSAGE HER ALREADY!!!

Norman didn’t spare that girl the dignity of a reply. Also, who knew what would happen if he opened his mouth here? He didn’t really have to. The nightsight would interpret what he wanted to say. He could answer her … but he wouldn’t. He was sassy like that.

__CHAT

• INQU!SIT_R: what if he can’t contact her? like, something’s blocking the signal?

Norman grinned. How astute!

__CHAT

• NORMAN: Take notes, ARN74! SOMEONE was using their brain!
• ARN74: joke’s on you, dum boi! i don’t have a brain anymore ☺!
• LEMMY_OUTA_HERE: Which explains sooo much.
• ARN74: Apt 3, #12, Casuarina Street
• LEMMY_OUTA_HERE: Shutting up now.
• ARN74: i’ll be seeing you late at night when you’re half asleep and ripe for the picking 😋
• LEMMY_OUTA_HERE: Can we do this later? I’d rather test my nova bombs after finding out how Norman lives or dies.
• NORMAN: I’m not some fictional character.
• LEMMY_OUTA_HERE: You act like one tho.
• NORMAN: 😒 Anyway, by ‘nova bombs’, he means ‘light-emitting weapons guaranteed to kill all nyctals in the area’. I installed them myself 😊. What I’m trying to say is please don’t attack him. Lemmy’s a “One last hurrah, I’M TAKING YOU ALL DOWN WITH ME!” kind of guy.
• NORMAN: Also, he’s filthy stinkin’ rich, my best cash cow! I pamper my Amy like the absolute queen she is, so if you mess with my cash flow, I’m comin’ for you myself 😡.
• ARN74: 😳
• ARN74: 🙄 hey, uh, if you don’t die or things go bad with Amy, can i have you?
• I’M-JUST-’IM: wait, she found that attractive???
• LEMMY_OUTA_HERE: Nyctalcore, remember?
• ATTACK-OTAKU: I’M STILL HERE, INCREDIBLY SINGLE AND ALSO FILTHY STINKIN’ RICH!!! I’LL TREAT YOU LIKE A QUEEN AND TALK BACK AS MUCH AS YOU WANT!!!
• ARN74: cope dude. i’m not interested. Norman, give us Amy’s number. i’ll call her
• NORMAN: I already tried that.
• ARN74: then try again
• NORMAN: Okay. It’s **-***.
• INQU!SIT_R: … did it just get censored?
• JOHN CROW: .̸̖̺̘̗̅̅͘Sorry, boys and girls. It’s impolite to give contacts without consent. Naughty, naughty, Norman..̵̘͔̏͌͑͠
• NORMAN: GET OUT OF MY CHAT YOU ASHY-SKINNED EXCUSE FOR A BOB MARLEY S.C.P.!
• JOHN CROW: .̴̥̰̙͐͛͒̇͜Now you’ve gone and hurt my feelings 😥. Too much internet’s a bad influence on you kids. Yoink..̵̮͇͓̓

Something plucked Norman’s nightsight from his face, demoting him from mostly blind to completely blind.
Finally, a new sound reached the edge of his hearing: the laughter of landlords.
Norman resisted the urge to throw hands like a brute. All that would do was get him punching air, only to fall on his behind and possibly get digested by the twisted carpet. He could play his cards early, but what would that get him? That escape plan was still pending.
And now, there was something panting up behind him like a mutt.
\HUFF! HUNPH! HUMPH!\**
Okay, time to hustle. Quick, shuffling steps carried him forward, not so fast as to crash into something, and not so slow as to get caught by whatever sloppy beast- oh, who was he kidding? That thing could probably outrun a man on the best of days. It was possible to trip and fall at a slow speed anyway.
He could very clearly hear the laughter now. It had gotten louder.
Norman bit back his primal thirst for sweet vindication as he hustled a little faster. The pants continued to close in.
He spotted sinuous lights slithering through the dark on what appeared to be a tall humanoid figure. They looked like the bioluminescent tattoo-type markings on John Crow. Norman sprinted towards them. He'd pick Mr. Affably Evil over whatever was breathing down his neck any day.
The panting thing accelerated.
A pale, hazy aura silhouetted John Crows massive dreadlocks. They spread out like the tentacles of an eldritch beast poised to pounce. Somehow, even in the dark, Norman saw his razor-toothed grin and the beady whites of his eyes.
John Crow’s dreadlocks sprang forth, racing past Norman and chilling the air around him. Norman heard an anguished wail as they struck the creature behind him. Its heavy form collapsed into the twisted carpet with a squelch.
Norman slipped into the small, ill-shaped room beside John Crow. Those dreadlocks cast only enough light for him to do that. The jerk, making him eat out of his hands! Norman dug his fists deep into his pockets, grumbling grumpy nothings.
John Crow let loose an ugly laugh. “.̵̢̠̪̓̈́͝Apologies for the theatrics, Norman. That filthy beast was getting uppity anyway. Besides, Dread here likes dinner and a show … Hmm … he likes you as well..̷̰̠̳́́͒”
An ice-cold dreadlock slithered across Norman’s chin. He ignored it. ‘Don’t feed the trolls,’ they always say.
Norman gave him a once-over. The nyctal was wearing his nightsight now, for the lulz apparently. John Crow gestured. Norman recognised the hand movements as augmented reality commands. Somehow, John Crow knew how to turn down the nightsight’s brightness so that the screen didn’t aggravate his light sensitivity. He was probably tweaking it a bit more to his liking.
Norman glanced about. He knew the room was small, but this was ridiculous. With that fleshy décor, it could almost pass for an organ. He spotted evenly spaced tumours on the wall, with numbers on their surfaces. Was this an elevator?
John Crow pressed the top floor button. It didn’t click, but squished. Thick membranes like vocal cords closed at the entrance: what passed for a door. Thin flagella locked into pores on either side to seal it shut. Norman felt the elevator ascend with a wet, sucking noise. He didn’t remember the landlords having this kind of stuff.
“.̵̡̪̫̿̀How do you like my inventions?.̴͎̟͒͠” asked John Crow. “.̶͈̲̣̎̾̿͐You wouldn’t believe how hard it is, getting this thing to grow an organic elevator. Grafting in the necessary organs was the trickiest part. You have it easy, working with rigid, inorganic materials that don’t outgrow their designated slots, but hey, when in Rome? You craft as the Romans do.”
So, this guy was an engineer too, on the borderline abominable end of the spectrum? Norman looked at him. Was that a flicker of kinship he felt between himself and the nyctal? Hard nope. He squashed that feeling like a bug.
Then, Norman heard it.
The sound seemed to come from a vibrating organ on the roof that reminded him of tripe, folded like the baleen of a whale. Hang on, was this supposed to be music?
If he strained his ears, he could make out the iconic song. The voice was wrong, though, if that could even be called a ‘voice’. It sounded like it was sung by an otherworldly entity. John Crow confirmed the song’s identity as he swayed to the the vibes, soaking them in with the utmost delight.
“.̶̡̠̪̥́̕… ‘Cause every likkle thing, is gonna be alright,.̴̥͚͈̣̓” John Crow sang along.
Norman side-eyed the guy. Was this for real? It seemed he’d been on point about the Bob Marley wannabe comment. He had no words for this level of cringe.
John Crow glanced at him and stiffened. The eldritch music-player stopped. Deathly cold crept into the air more than ever before. In the tense silence, the only sound was the sucking of the rising elevator.
John Crow spoke, his voice low and lethal. “.̷͒ͅ.̷̝̼̓̽.̶̣̓̌̋Norman .̴̖͇͌ͅ..̵̟͔̗̿ I understand that you are an uncultured swine.̵̨̹̹̞̎ However, this music is a gift from .̷̺̝̝̎́͋̚.̵̢̭͊̏́The Great One.̷̜͓͆ You WILL pay him the appropriate respect.̸̺̄̋̌.̵̬͒͊͋.̷͇̳̈́̏̾”
Norman couldn’t tell if ‘The Great One’ was Bob Marley or something else. Another question bubbled up. He shouldn’t ask. His lips twitched. He absolutely shouldn’t ask, but ohhhh his big mouth. The burgeoning force behind it couldn’t be tamed.
“… Or what?” he finally asked, simpering like a troll.
John Crow’s dreadlocks spread like serpents rearing to strike.
.

.................................. Five seconds later ..................................

.
“‘Cause every little thing, is gonna be alright,” Norman sang as he vibed to the beat with John Crow.
The elevator door peeled itself open. At least the new room was slightly brighter than the last. He could vaguely make out pouring rain beyond the windows. Nevertheless, most of the room belonged to the shadows. Norman had the bare minimum light necessary to see where he was going, and what, he presumed, John Crow wanted him to see.
The tall nyctal sauntered up to an easy chair. Scaled to his size, it almost looked to be a throne. Norman wasn’t surprised when it squirmed beneath his weight, because of course it was alive. John Crow reclined into it, frowning at his clawed feet.
He clapped twice.
A landlord skittered up to him and got down on hands and knees. John Crow sighed with relief as he rested his heels atop the landlord like a footstool. The smaller nyctal gnashed his teeth but, upon seeing Norman staring, he kept his displeasure to himself.
Norman raised an eyebrow before returning his attention to John Crow.
“So, how’d you get the landlords at your beck and call?” asked Norman. “They’re not big on outsiders.”
John Crow shrugged. “.̸̧͂̋̋They’re desperate. Their pride is on life-support. This little guy was their head of security, but he didn’t security hard enough, ain’t that right boy?.̴̱͉̝̆͒͠”
The sound of a landlord’s teeth grinding filled the room. He muttered something about what he’d do if he still had his key chain. John Crow’s toe bent at an unnatural angle to tap him with a claw. The landlord got real quiet after that.
“.̶̝̈̂Anyway, they hired me to pick up the slack..̴̡̝̫̌͘̕͝ͅ” John Crow continued. “Solve their problems for them. Their … .̸͙̦̹͐͜Amy-shaped problems..̴̻̮̬͇͌̇”
Norman turned up his lip with the utmost disdain. There sat John Crow, stippling his fingers as though he were the Premier League of big bads. That ignoramus had no idea. Few people did. Perhaps it was a given. Despite Amy’s public image as a ‘monster’, she didn’t act in a way that would tip them off. Who could know the truth? What Amy was, what she had always been?
Words burbled up inside Norman. His hand quavered. Impulse wrestled restraint. Impulse won. The hand rose. It stopped in line with John Crow. A finger stuck out, pointing at the nyctal.
Norman had assessed the situation. This guy wanted him alive, for now. John Crow was a self-controlled nyctal, which meant this wouldn’t be the death of him, probably. Norman’s lips parted. It was too late now.
“You ignorant dumb dumb!” he blurted.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Become a free member on Patreon to read Part 15, 'John Crow', early! It will be released there today or tomorrow. For the visual 'mood writing' version (previously called 'artitext') and more Caribbean sci-fi, become a paid member for only $3! See links in comments.
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After last night I have seen (sometimes multiple times) every show of the 2023-2024 season.
I also happen to be a voter for Theatre awards in NYC (probably one of the ones you're thinking of). So please AMA* is you have any burning thoughts about my thoughts or the process.
*the spirit of the voting is it is anonymous so I will not share any identifying info on how I got this privilege. You can believe me or not- it's Reddit after all! Honor system. But I appreciate the space to get my thoughts out, outside of the bubble of my circle.
*i also won't explicitly say what i am voting for, again for the spirit of anonymity, but will share my thoughts about my favorites.
*The tickets are complimentary as gifts from the Producers of the shows themselves. However, all the opinions are my own I am frankly, more critical due to the fact that I *didn't* invest my money and want to make myself find justification for that expense.
*I will stick to only Broadway productions as the off bway world will add another few dozens of pages.
Some people in this particular group who get this privilege are artists who view the show through the lens of artistry and personal opinion. Some are business people who view things as a business strategy and tool for continuing to fund the business that is show. Some are in between. I think you'll see how I look at the shows, and know that my opinion is just one of many and in no way indicative of trends or "word around town."
Overall thoughts and takeaways of the season:
First the Good: The Plays.
This was a very exciting years for the straight plays. A lot of incredible work, and a lot of money invested into plays that typically isn't seen (i LOVE LOVE LOVE to see plays that mic their actors. and multiple did this year which warmed my heart- investing where it's deserved.) I hope to see this trend continue for plays, as we all know more attention and money get funneled towards the musicals and Plays deserve more.
Getting access to these shows has actually changed my views on Plays- I never paid them much attention unless I had colleagues in them or an actor I admired. Plays were really only a thing I studied quickly in school and moved on to musical theater- so my expertise was (and is) not there. However, due to getting to and being required to see all the eligible shows, my eyes and brain have been opened up to plays in a way I didn't know. It's still a learning curve- but I appreciate straight plays so much differently now, and regret never giving them the credence they deserved before.
The plays ranged from every corner of every genre, whereas in previous seasons it was incredibly drama heavy, so this season was incredibly refreshing to see such range of work. Comedy, dark comedy, drama, etc.
The standout for me this season was Jaja's African Braiding. That was the most captivating play I've seen it a long time. It was sincere, genuine, accurate and had a lot to say. It also was the perfect example of a BIPOC story being told genuinely- no hand holding or spoon feeding or pandering to non BIPOC audiences. I've always believed if we don't stop to breakdown the cultural complexities and nuances of non BIPOC stories (say Oklahoma!) BIPOC stories do not owe us that labor when they're being presented. To see genuine BIPOC stories and lives and communities onstage sharing sincere stories is a gift. Especially one SO well written and performed. TBH I could have watched the series of customers going in and out and the salon corps interacting for hours, even without the main conflict that arises later in the play. It was THAT engaging and heartening. I wish it was still running so I could see it again.
The other stand out was I Need That, which i know was snubbed and overlooked by awards season, which very much surprised me.
The script of that play is so well done- the character development is off the charts. I walked out of that show and had to find a corner to sob in for a moment. I don't know, maybe I identified with one of more character too much, maybe I was moved by the depiction of genuine male platonic love in a way we rarely see onstage, or maybe all of it just got to me, but the pathos that performance generated was off the charts. I was very disappointed to see it left out of any categories at all.
For the other side of it all- The plays that didn't do much for me this season were Uncle Vanya and Prayer For the French Republic. I think we've all read the reviews of Vanya and I don't need to reiterate- it wasn't for me, nor a lot of people in that audience who left at intermission. That cast is incredibly stacked and talented, and doing what they can with the material, which at is core is a classic Russian Play. Something that is not going to be a style of theatre for everyone. Prayer for the French republic was full of such beautiful performances and writing, but was an act too long IMO. The momentum was completely lost with the 2nd act and very hard to get back in the 3rd due to that. Maybe it's an attention span problem of the masses (myself included) but many people around us and fellow viewers I've compared notes with agreed.
Middle of the road- and I know i'll get hate for this- Stereophonic.
It's about 3-40 minutes too long, ironic with what they discuss in the final leg of the play (no spoilers). and though the music is sumptuous it concerns me that everyone walks away talking about the music and voices...which are wonderful of course...but this is not a musical. it's a play. As a voter i'm VERY aware of this and very aware of how people are not (even other voters)- they talk about it as if it is a musical, which is dangerous territory for decision makers. The music is a apart of the show yes, but it is not *the show* and looking at it through the lens of musical performance puts all the other performances and scripts of plays without music at a major disadvantage which worries me come Tony's night. I will say what this play made me REALLY want IS a musical (or musical movie) about the recording of Rumours and Fleetwood Mac produced one day. I know it probably won't happen, and the reason this play exists is to do just that without royalties or being sued, but it made me very much want to see the REAL story- not the thinly veiled workaround. I do think it's astounding the attention and hype the show has gotten, and some of the performances certainly deserve it, but alas I am not in the camp that understands *all* of the hype. I will say that the score, all 5(?) songs, are better than almost any of the new musicals this season in terms of composition, pastiche, and ESPECIALLY lyrics. I'm not sure if I can in good conscious say it's the *best* score since other shows are musicals with story driving scores of 15 plus songs...but my god was it refreshing to hear some mature, thoughtful music, with correct pastiche/motifs for the time period (or well Fleetwood Mac) and lyrics that were more complex than a rhyming dictionary.
Now for the (i won't say "bad" but rather, the surprise): the Musicals.
My first love. The Musicals.
and oh boy...this season was...full.
I cannot stop but thinking that this season was a clear example of the long ripple effect of what happens while creating art as a commodity in a capitalistic society. much less a capitalistic society after a tremendous shut down. The ripple effects from pre-Covid are evident here as well, but even more so is the reality of how much business goes into show- and the decisions that get made as a result. The reality is we've created a society of Art that isn't sustainable without large amounts of money, from every side, the productions, the audiences, and the artists themselves. And due to that, it has become more than a race to the bottom to figure out the formula to make that work- it's become, I don't know, insidious? Almost like a factory of work who's intention is to make profit above all else, and everything else suffers. So much so that a majority of the work this year felt rushed (because it was) and underbaked (because it was.) A handful of BEAUTIFUL EXPENSIVE boxes with BEAUTIFUL EXPENSIVE wrapping paper and finishes- but no gift inside. And I won't lie, it keeps me up at night knowing a large amount of people would take the pretty empty box over a brown paper bag with the most thoughtful and meaningful gift inside- over and over. This has been the case since the beginning of Broadway, but I think we see it in a way that's undeniable now. BC of high production costs and ticket costs there's a real sense of expectations that are nearly impossible to meet while checking all the boxes of artistic integrity AND commercialism.
With that heavy thought out of the way, I will say: some of the work this season was mind blowing. It wasn't all doom and gloom. The sheer AMOUNT of work we got to see is a gift- even if it just taught us about the work itself or the work the industry needs.
There are too many musicals this season to write about- so I will stick to a few sparknotes.
The absolute standouts to me were The Outsiders and Suffs.
I wanted to run backstage at The Outsiders and scream "YOU DID IT!" A la Buddy The Elf after the show with no shame. IMO they did it: they may very well have cracked the code of creating large scale commercial theatre, with known IP and mass market appeal BUT make it feel like a piece of high art, something introspective and downtown, and *real*. It proves spectacle can exist even in the nitty gritty, it can exist with substance, it can WOW without traditional "flash" AND respect the source material with integrity. The Rumble, the effects, that is all Spectacle. But it's spectacle done with heart, integrity, and it puts the ART and the storytelling first in a way that makes the audience feel like they are seeing something elevated and genuine. It excites me VERY much that this show broke through this year and what it may mean for shows to come who see it as an inspiration. The staging working alongside the choreography is by far some of the most brilliant, moving stagecraft and vision I have ever see. The music is fresh and smart, a welcome change for the great Broadway songbook as we try to push the artform forward, and overall in all aspects it checked every box I feel a lot of shows have tried, but really struggled, to check successfully since this race to the bottom has started.
Suffs- is genius. Not because it's the best show I have ever seen- but because on paper, it's not only a artistic mission well done, but a business plan that will keep that mission going and funded for years to come.
This show will continue running if not on Broadway or tour, but in Regional & community houses and schools for a very long time. It's the new "Little Women." There are more talented female identifying performers in this world than roles and opportunities, especially at the Regional and Community levels where they struggle to find Male presenting actors or enough roles to feature the talented rosters of women they have at their disposal. It's one of the reasons Little Women is so often produced. This show fills that need, and then some, and does it as a form of activism. These small regional houses, often in the parts of the country that need the message the most, will expose audiences to this work and if it even "radicalizes" one person or changes one person's mind- the work is done. Especially during this time- when women's rights are so fraught and the relevance to our work not being close to done: this show speaks so loudly and will inspire generations of both young men and women to come. In the bathroom at intermission I saw multiple grandmothers and mothers and daughters and granddaughters. One woman said out loud "I wonder what the men's room is talking about right now- I hope they feel like us, and bring their sons." and that was it. That is this show's mission in a nutshell- and it is succeeding. Activism through art is one of our biggest and oldest tools of expression- and seeing it in action was really profound. On top of the genius of what it is and will be on paper- it is one of the SMARTEST scores I've heard in recent years. Witty, introspective, moving, smart, clever and more- all done in a way that somehow melds modern pop sensibilities and turn of the century pastiche. It's genius. The lyrics are absolute literature and poetry and a lesson in story telling a lot of lyricists need to take a note from. They embody the idea of "feelings and emotions being too big they have to be sung" all while being incredibly thoughtful and truly TRULY moving. The lyrics to Keep Marching are an anthem to anyone fighting for the bigger picture- I found myself thinking about the line
"You'll rarely agree with whoever's in charge Keep marching, keep marching 'Cause your ancestors are all the proof you need That progress is possible, not guaranteed It will only be made if we keep marching, keep marching on"
It has swirled in my head for days and days and days. That is what theatre is supposed to do. Teach, empower, and inspire change. Shaina Taub should not be underestimated.
I also will always ALWAYS have a soft spot in my Heart for Here Lies Love. I could go on for days- but API stories are important. and this was one was groundbreaking and expertly done. I honestly have almost no critiques or notes on that production- it will always be a tragedy it could not find its footing with today's audiences and deserved so much more. I fear it'll dissuade people from telling these stories in the future- and I hope theatre makers know how worth the risk is to tell these stories for the sake of the people and the art.
as for the other side of the coin-
Video walls. I am not in support. I understand they are here to stay, if only for the cost cutting effects it has on Producer's pockets. But I am not, ever, impressed when video walls/projections *are* the set. They absolutely have their place in innovative ways to supplement an *actual* set, but not as the set. It simply feels no different than a cruise ship show who have been using these walls as sets for decades due to lack of space, or like we're looking at bad video game graphics from a cut scene- no matter how much work goes into them. I will always take a creative way to create a world over a .jpeg and this year unfortunately, I found myself in a lot of video game cut scenes. And I fear this will be the trend moving forward until the cyclical nature of theatre once again finds itself on a new cycle of minimalism.
If i learned one thing this season it's that THE BOOK MATTERS. The book is a thankless part of a musical- if you don't notice it, it's typically a good book. And WOW did I notice a lot of books this season. You cannot hide a bad book under big music, or special effects, or flashy costumes or impressive choreography or any of it. A musical is storytelling- and the book is the heart of that. It's a running joke that 'the book needs work' in all musicals of all time, and that may be true, but this season was another level of that. It was clear how rushed and underdeveloped a lot of these books were- in many cases shockingly so. And it felt often like the bookwriters were aware of this- opting to use the book simply as dialogue to move from song to song so you'd forget. But those of us paying attention did not forget. The books of musicals are often the most difficult parts to nail down, especially without the right time or team, and I think it was glaringly obvious this season how much attention future writers need to give to their book material. The audiences, critics and nominators have started taking notice- and it has to once again become a priority over high belts, star actors, big sets, and special effects.
I won't get into deep end with The Great Gatsby as so many others (including myself!) have on this thread because the opinions will always be what they are. But I will say- that was one of the most upsetting pieces of modern theatre I have ever seen. And not in a way that was intended. We have a serious problem when multiple people laugh at two very important deaths and when the bartenders in the lobby say "yeah, a lot of people come in at intermission laughing about how bad and cheesy it is." It is the epitome of the thoughts I explained earlier. And though I will always be supportive of shows that bring stable work to those in the community, I weep at what expense to the artform and what keeps it from pushing forward, for how it will encourages theater makers to make shows for profit instead of encouraging art to be made because of a burning desire to say something or explore something so strong it *has* to exist . And also for basic media literacy of very clear cut source material- The Green Light and La Dee Dah songs will live in infamy. I would argue that the lack of nominations could very well have been a deliberate choice, a choice I would have supported. but alas, only a few handfuls of people will know that truth.
Additionally- I was not the audience for Hell's Kitchen. I understand why the hype is as large as it is, and think the performers are doing some very transformative work to that music...but I am not one who found it as ground breaking as others. I do sense a lot of support for that show is based out of business strategy for future revenue on the literal road for Producers- and I cannot fault that in a world where butts need to be in seats and it's getting increasingly difficult to do so. This show will be a success on Broadway and on the Road regardless of Tony wins.
Middle of the Road: Cabaret. I will say this was the most engaging theatrical experience I had all year. They expertly handled THEMING in a way that rivals Disney parks (and that isn't an insult, it's a huge compliment to detail. This is a level of investment often overlooked and rarely duplicated well without looking cheesy or tacky or like a half baked Bar Mitzvah or wedding with a theme) The theming was transformative, and the show itself *beautiful*. I found it incredibly new in tone than previous productions, but I do understand people wanting more from it. I felt it was an incredibly nuanced look, especially for the female characters who often don't get that opportunity in this show. If more shows could find ways to invest in the engagement of the audiences and theming of theaters, I think you'd also see a large rise of audience satisfaction due to the sheer novelty and attention paid to it.
I'm incredibly privileged to get to see all these shows and be able to learn about theatre, and myself, in the process, especially since so many historically are excluded from that access. I do not take it lightly- which is why I *am* more critical, to me it's a responsibility to the artform and the future of it, while some others than are just happy to be there to experience the privilege, and that's okay too.
Happy to answer questions and always happy for an ear to share my thoughts outside of my theatre journal!
(There will absolutely be typos and grammatical errors here. Live and let live <3)

(Cong Rats u/Xerxes250! You've been FICNAPPED, EKEKEKEK! Thanks to u/Espazilious, u/CaptainMatthew1, and u/T00Dense for supporting me in Group 3 of the Ficnapping!
That's right, I've Ficnapped Hazardous Recovery, a very well-written fic. I'd recommend it to those looking for a more... tech-inspired fic.
So, enjoy the dumb stuff.)
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Memory Transcription Subject: Kimmich, currently dying inside
Date [standardized human time]: October 25, 2136
If I had been made aware that one of the first days we were on Earth was going to be spent sitting in a predator's house, looking at sheets of paper, and listening to said predator prattle on about silly plastic shapes with numbers on them I'd have refused the trip as a whole. The whole concept seemed like a massive waste of time, not only for us but for him too. Unfortunately, I was trapped here by the whims of Vemnka and Sevkan, and they never let up a chance to see new human past times.
Andre, for his part, had been slow with us, letting us ease into the new living situation with relative laxity on where we were allowed to go. We'd already watched a few movies, played a few "video games", and even listened to some of his music. It was... enjoyable. Even with the obvious attempts to cover up a whole heap of predatory behaviors, Andre had managed to get us feeling somewhat welcome.
Until he had us sit at his kitchen table and write out the Venlilian numerical system, to which he responded with a chuckle, "Looks like Skaven Scratch." He did not elaborate. At first, I thought the exercise was going to be a simple lesson on how to read human numbers. But no, it was far worse. Instead, Andre went to his workshop, scanned all the numbers, and began printing a bunch of geometric prisms with the numbers on them. Vemnka was the first to ask about their purpose as she picked up a dodecahedron, each side holding a numeral.
"Well, I figured we'd play a game, and these," he held up a worn version of the same shape Vemnka was holding, this one with human numbers on it, "are how we play."
Not even a minute later we were watching as he 'rolled' the 'dice' across a little pad on the table. "So, basically, these dice, the 'd6's will help us make our characters. I use the '4d6 minus the lowest rolled' method for stats, but there are other ways to do it."
Sevkan picked up a triangular prism and poked his paw pad with it. "And what about the rest of them," he asked as he tossed the plastic shape onto the pad.
"The one you just rolled is a 'd4', it's a damage dice. Same with the d6, 'd8', 'd10', and 'd12'. This," he held up a dice with ten sides, but with two separate numbers on each face, "is a percentile dice. Helps when I need to see what outcome happens when a random encounter starts, though we'll not be using it because we're doing a oneshot." He flicked it up with a click and caught it. Next, he picked up the same dodecahedron as before and rolled it. "Ouph, nat 1, less than ideal when starting a game."
"What does that mean," I asked, looking down at the twenty-sided dice; the side displaying '1' was facing up.
"A nat 1 is the worst roll on a 'd20'. It's a critical failure, which means if you roll a nat 1, something bad happens." He rolled it again as he talked, "The d20 is the most used dice because it's the 'check dice', you use it to figure out how well you did on an action. For instance," he reached across the table for a sheet of paper. Looking it over, I could see it was a 'character sheet', as Andre called them. "This is the strength stat," He pointed at a block on the left side of the paper, "It shows how strong your character is. If I were to roll this d20 and get a 13, but your strength stat is a 14, plus whatever save modifier you have, then I'd fail the check and either nothing would happen, or you'd get a reaction to my failure." He shifted his weight as he reached for the ground. With a plap, Andre brought up a hardbacked book. My translator had a bit of difficulty translating the text due to the font, but in the end, it spat out 'D&D Player's Handbook'. A small script of subtext under the cover art, which I ignored due to its content, read 'Everything a player needs to create heroic characters for the world's greatest roleplaying game.'
"A roleplaying game," Vamnka asked before Sevkan or I could formulate the words.
"Yep! A TTRPG, Dungeons and Dragons, D&D. I played this once or twice before my accident with the reactor room, but I think I still remember enough to DM for it."
This time Sevkan asked the question, "TTRPG and DM?"
"Tabletop roleplaying game, and Dungeon Master. I run the game, so I'm the dungeon master." He laid out three sets of three pieces of paper at each seat. It had the same words and markings as the one before him. "So, as I said, we're doing a one-shot because I can't be bothered with doing a whole ass campaign. Plus you won't be here forever and we have work to do at some point."
"I'll be making your characters with input from each of you. We're doing basic fifth edition rules because the newer editions, sixth up to ninth, all suck." He grabbed four of the d6 and held them aloft, looking at Sevkan, then Vemnka, and finally landing his gaze on me. I felt my fur rise but paid it no mind as he looked down at the dice before him. "Vemnka, you're going first." He picked up and tossed the dice to Vemnka who scrambled to grab all four before they had a chance to fall off the table.
"So, I just... toss them?" The quizzical flap of her left ear was met by a curt nod from Andre. "Alright," she said as her paw flicked the dice across the table. One landed on 1, another on 2, another on 3, and the final one on 6. "Twelve in total," she announced.
"Good, now remove the lowest number rolled and mark it down somewhere on the back of your sheet."
After five more rolls, Vemnka's stats totaled 11 in strength, 15 in intelligence, another 15 in constitution, 16 in wisdom, 16 in charisma, and 13 in dexterity.
Next was my turn. I rolled a 13, which I put into dexterity, a 14 in constitution, a 15 in charisma, a 16 in strength, another 16 in wisdom, and a 12 in intelligence.
Finally, Sevkan rolled a 12, which was placed in dexterity, a 13 in charisma, a 16 in constitution, a 10 in both wisdom and intelligence and, as Andre put it, the ever elusive 18 was put in strength.
With all that tedious, boring, unimportant, and downright torturous work out of the way, now was the time to get into character creation. Andre gave us the book to look over and told us to ask any questions we wanted if we needed to. I pulled up my pad's visual translator and began skimming the text.
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Memory Transcription Subject: Vemnka, having the time of her life!
The book wasn't big, not by a long shot. I'd read books three to four times as long in [a day] or two. What the book contained, however, was an entirely different story. It wasn't just a rulebook, or handbook, as the cover suggested, it was a way to shape the wild imagination, to tame the itch to create.
And by the stars am I creating!
Andre told us we'd start by choosing class, race, and background. Of course, we had no idea what that meant, so he took us through it one at a time at a leisurely pace. He flipped through the book's pages before landing near the beginning, showcasing a stout-looking human with the undertext 'Dwarf' printed to the left.
After running through all of the vaguely human-like races to pick and a few classes that would shape our table-side adventure, I'd chosen to be a gnome cleric, which was a humorous choice. Andre said I'd primarily be healing, helping my team by keeping them in battle. I didn't mind the idea of being a sideliner, as long as I could help.
Dad had chosen to be a human 'paladin'. Andre explained that the term equated pretty easily to a form of holy guardian, in the form of a mortal, who the god of their faith gifted to defend those around them. Dad thought is was a pretty cool idea, especially the idea of "burning heretics away with holy fire," as Andre put it. It took him a bit longer to choose his race because he kept returning to the page with the almost-Arxur-looking Dragonborn. Still, after some coaxing, he finally let up on whatever was going on in his head and chose the easiest option, and the one Andre had recommended.
Finally, Sevkan had looked a bit farther into the game itself, finding a non-classified databook called "Player's Companion". Andre described it as a supplemental read, adding a bit more variety to the already large amount of options presented in the Player's Handbook. Sevkan took one look at it and immediately chose the Aarakocra, causing Andre to flinch. He said it'd be fine because the Aarakocra looked nothing like Krakotl, but Sevkan still apologized as best he could. He chose the fighter class, which was about as self-explanatory as possible.
Next was backgrounds, I chose to be an acolyte. It made sense in my head that a religious healer would have a background in religion. Dad leaned toward Folk Hero as his background, an option that both he and Andrew agreed would suit his character. Sev chose to be a hermit, which caught me and dad off guard after Andre gave us a rough rundown of what it was. An isolationist fighter, the sort of stuff that got you locked away.
"Alright," Andre said, leaning forward, looking between each of us again. I noticed Dad's fur rise a bit less than last time. Progress is progress. "We've got a Gnome Cleric, a Human Paladin, and an Aarakocra Fighter. Pretty good party dynamics for your first time even hearing about DnD. Now, for the most part, we've done everything we need to do together. From here you would have normally gone through stats and equipment, but I don't want to, and this is a oneshot so those aren't that important. Vem, on that last sheet, please mark down 'Spare the Dying', 'Sacred Flame', and 'Guidance'. Kimmich, on your last sheet, mark down 'Lay on Hands', 'Divine Smite', and 'Divine Sense'. Sev... you can just throw that sheet away. You won't be moving past where you are now."
Sevkan looked down at the sheet with a hint of sadness. To be fair to him, 'Spare the Dying' and 'Divine Smite' sounded cool, but before I could ask what they meant, Dad beat me to it. "What are these for? What do you mean?"
Andre rolled a D20 absent-mindedly, "Spare the Dying is a Cleric Cantrip that stabilizes a person who's taken fatal damage and is rolling death saves. Divine Smite is that whole 'BURN IN HOLY FIRE' thing I was talking about. Depending on how you flavor it, it's you wrapping your weapon in divine fire and burning away at your enemy's soul."
Despite his previous misgivings, ones which were practically plastered over his fur, Dad seemed honestly interested in the concept behind the Divine Smite. "And I just get to use it? Any time I want?"
"Well, not really." Andre pointed a finger toward me. "She has three cantrips which can be used at any time, you only have two. Divine Smite is an actual spell, as in its magic that requires you to utilize a spell slot. Lay on Hands is a contrip that can heal and Divine Sense allows you to detect certain types of creatures based on their alignment. Good and Evil in particular."
Sev spoke up, displaying confusion with his ears. "So why don't I get any spells or cantrips?" There was a degree of disappointment in his voice.
Andre leaned back with a chuckle, flexing his dexterous prosthetics as he clutched the d20 he'd been rolling. "Because, as a fighter, you probably have the most useful ability of them all. It's called 'Second Wind' and its essentially Lay on Hands but only you gain from it. It's an ability you can only use once per short rest, which we won't be needing to get into, which heals you for 1d10 plus your level, which all of you will be set at level 2.
"Again, we won't need much of the stuff in the books because this is A. Your first time and I want it to be fun, and B. A oneshot where nothing matters and we're here to have a good time. So, real quick," Andre grabbed a d8s and a d10 and began rolling them. "Vem," the d8 clacked across the table, landing on a 4, "you've got 15 health total. Because you're a light class, always expect to be on the lower side of health. Kimmich, you've got," he rolled the d10, it landed on an 8, "20 health, not a bad roll. And finally Sevkan," the d10 rolled across the table once more, the 5 side facing up. "18 health. Not too bad either, given your ability to heal yourself."
"How did you get those numbers," I asked, looking across the table at each of our sheets.
"While you all were reading, I put your modifiers where they belong, and changed what needed to be changed with your stats." Andre leaned over and pointed at Dad's sheet, "I increased each of your scores by one because you're human." He moved to mine, "I increased your intelligence by two." Then he moved to Sevkan's "And I increased your dexterity by 2 and wisdom by one. I made a slight mistake when asking you guys to roll, as usually, you'd choose race and class before putting your stat rolls anywhere, but you all seem to have put them in pretty good spots."
The three of us gave Andre amused looks, to which he raised an eyebrow. "Humans get an additional point in everything?" Sev asked with a small whistling laugh.
"Oh, uh. Yeah, now that there are actual other intelligent races in the galaxy that doesn't look too good does it?"
"It's fine," I said. It was plenty understandable, thinking you're the best at everything you do when there's no one to compare to. "So are we going to start?"
"Yep! Just one more thing. Weapons and armor are important to this, even if you don't have to use them all the time." Andre flipped to a page with a list of item names which I couldn't make ears or tails of. I recognized 'sword', 'bow', and 'spear' as ancient primitive weapons, but other than that everything else escaped me.
"I'm noting a lot of confusion. Anything you need to know?" Andre looked at us expectantly.
"What's a 'maul'," came Sevkan's response.
"Oh, that's a term for a large, two-handed warhammer. Usually, it's depicted as spiked on both ends. Imagine a very large, very crude sledgehammer with spikey bits."
"And a 'glaive'?" Dad asked next.
"I assume you know what a sword is?" We flicked our ears in affirmation. "Well, it's essentially a curved sword attached to a pole. It's made to look a specific way, if it wasn't then it'd probably just be called a Dao. Or maybe the Dao would be called a glaive. Maybe Glaive is just a type of polearm. I have no idea. Anyway, to speed this up, I'll be choosing the weapons and armor you can have for you, and don't worry, I'll use your attitudes as a reference for what you get. For you, Vemnka, I think the mace and shield combo will do nicely with the scale mail. Kimmich, you'd work well with two long swords to accompany your chainmail armor. And finally, Sevkan, a halberd with your chainmail will work fine. Sound good to everyone?"
I was a little disappointed at the stolen opportunity to continue building my character, I'd yet to come up with a name or backstory, as I was sure was the norm, but with the idea of starting taking center stage, I couldn't help but wag my tail.
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Memory Transcription Subject: Sevkan, going down the rabbit hole
Andre put a thin plastic sheet over most of the table, took out a bundle of markers, and began drawing, much to our collective surprise.
The sheet was was smooth and cool to the touch, though not through any internal system, probably just from the back of the garage where Andre had found it. It had a grid printed over it, which Andre seemed to be using as a guide as he drew a boxy shape, marking certain areas with certain colors. There must have been a system he was following, one that none of us Venlil in the room had managed to pick up on, and we didn't want to interrupt Andre as we worked in case we caused him to mess up.
I looked over my character sheet, made mostly by Andre with small additions I felt like I needed to add. I still felt a little bad for not realizing how raw the image of a Krakotl must have been to Andre as I chose the Aarakocra, but he'd brushed it off swiftly and curtly, clearly not wanting to continue the line of thought. Still, I should've chosen a different race. The goliath looked cool and probably would have been a better fighter than a bird with hollow bones, but I also didn't want to drag the others much longer, so I kept silent.
At long last Andre stood at his full height and analyzed his work. "There we go. The battle map is set up, now for the tokens." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out three little white objects. I immediately recognized them as chess pieces. A rook, a knight, and a bishop were placed on the table, along with a dozen white pawns, some of which came from a different chess set, and four black pawns as well as a black king. The black pawns were marked with the colors, yellow, beige, green, and white. We quietly agreed which pieces we would be. Dad would be the knight, I would be the rook, and Vemnka would be the bishop.
Andre sat down and we began. "Alright, I've decided to pull the classic 'wake up in a tavern' DnD start because it's funny and I also didn't exactly plan this. So here we go. Please leave your questions for after I'm done talking."
"You wake up, each of you, around a wooden table in a comfortable tavern with candles above you and empty tankards before you. You look at each other and recognize if only barely, the friends you made last night through a bout of drinking and dancing. You feel the roaring of a hangover in your head as you each groan and attempt to lift your heads."
Andre pointed at the chess pieces, which must have represented our characters. "Please roll constitution to see if the hangover affects you in any major way. It's a d20 plus the number below the stat itself."
We looked at each other with slight confusion. Not at the command to roll, nor for its circumstance, but for the setting. Is this a human board game? I mean, I guess I expected something more akin to chess. but this is nothing like it. It's so... alien.
Dad rolled his d20 first; it landed on a 16, "An 18?"
"Yep, Kimmich, your character brushes off the hangover with ease. You still feel a buzzing in your head, but other than that, you're fit as a fiddle." Oh, I get it now. How interesting. I could see Dad and Vemnka twitch their ears in understanding as I rolled my d20.
It landed on 8. "Plus two, so an 11."
"Sevkan, your head hurts like hell but you're still able to function to a normal degree. If it weren't for your fellow drunkards you're sure you'd have to stumble around by your lonesome for a while."
Vemnka let out a laugh as she rolled her dice. While she had been aiming for the center of the table, the dice had other plans and shot off to the right, flying off the table and rolling under a stool in the kitchen. "Oops! I'll get it," she said, jumping out of her seat and lifting the stool. "It landed on 19," she beeped excitedly.
"Nope," Andre said, much to our surprise. "Rule two of dice: if it goes off the table, its results are null. I didn't make that rule, but I still follow it. Roll again."
Vemnka's ears drooped a bit, but she set herself and climbed back into her seat to roll again. This time the dice did as it was meant to and rolled across the table without falling off. It landed on... "A nat 20!"
"No shit?" Andre lept out of his chair to peer across the table toward the dice. "Well, I'll be damned, a 19 and a 20 in succession. Well, I guess you're just better than those other two. Your character's hangover is completely gone, you felt it for all but a second as you raise your head to see your Aarakocra companion still struggling with his."
"Is there anything I can do to help him?" She asked. Andre's lip curled upward slightly.
"Now you're getting it. It's a role-playing game. You have your roles, the ones you set up for yourself, and now you get to play them. And yes, there is something you can do to help. Roll me a medicine check. I'll add your modifier myself." The sound of a die rattling across the table ended with... "Another Nat 20?!"
We jumped at Andre's incredulous shout as he glared at the die before him. He seemed more angry at the dice than at Vemnka so I assumed we were probably not in trouble. How can we be? We didn't do anything that would make him angry. Why's he yelling?
"Sorry, but the chance of rolling two nat 20s in a row, while not astronomical, is pretty fucking low. Something like a one in four hundred chance, maybe more," Andre said, sitting back down and sighing deeply. "It's fine, just funny is all. Usually, RNJesus is on the DM's side, not the party's. Kinda nice to see a change of pace."
"RNJesus," we asked collectively.
"Don't worry about it, let's continue. Vemnka, you put your hand on Sevkan's shoulder and do some voodoo magic bullshit and pray to your god to heal his aching body. Miraculously, it works and Sevkan sits upright feeling light as a feather. The Aarakocra's headache is now on par with Kimmich's."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that, now let's get on with it. As Sevkan gets up and shakes off the remaining ebbing in his head, you all notice five less-than-reputable figures sitting in a booth at the far end of the tavern. Each wears a hood or cowl accompanied by a cloak, which hides their race and weapons from you, however, you can tell that one of them is considerably larger than the others. If you had to, you'd place it at about 226 cm (7'5") while those around it are around the average human height of 180 cm (6'0"). Roll me perception too."
We looked at each other at the description but shrugged it off as we rolled. I rolled a 7, Dad rolled a 19, and Vemnka rolled a 17.
"Both of you," he said, pointing at Vemnka and Dad with one hand, "See that they are pointing in your direction while the big one holds a piece of paper in his hand. It shows artistic renditions of the three of you, along with a long string of words you can't make out from your current distance. Kimmich, you hear them talking about a bounty and that you are the specified targets. Now it's time for you to react, how do you want to move forward?"
"Well," Vemnka said nervously. I could see her tail flick in my direction, looking for guidance, but I had none. "I suppose I'll confront them? I'm not sure what a bounty is exactly..."
"Really?"
We looked at Andre and the obviousness of the situation. If we didn't know what a word was, we knew it must have been predatory. "Right, sorry. Bounties are orders given to hired people to hunt people. For one reason or another, if someone wants someone dead then they'll place a bounty on their head. I'm not sure if it was ever actually a thing, but bounty hunters were popular during the Wild West days of the US. They usually brought criminals in for trial though, and usually didn't kill them."
"Okay, but why do they want us dead," Dad asked, his ears falling back slightly.
"That's the neat part, you have no idea," Andre said as he leaned forward and moved the green-tipped black pawn a space on the map. "Vemnka, as you get up, you notice that one of the figures is moving towards the door with slight urgency. Before you can make a move, however, the large figure stands up and doffs his cloak, revealing the tattooed grey skin of a Goliath wielding a greatsword in the executioner's style. He shouts over the tavern for everyone other than your group to leave immediately as things are about to get bloody. His three other goons, the one moving toward the door exempt, move in unison towards you. Roll initiative. It's a d20, same as all the others."
I looked toward my sister to see her tail freaking out, her bishop is the closest to the enemy party, meaning she was more likely to be targeted first. I had to protect her, not only because of our sibling relationship but also because she could heal us if we got hurt. The three of us rolled as one, I got a 10, Dad a 14, and Vemnka got a 4. Andre himself rolled a few dice before moving the chess pieces into place and writing down something on a sheet of paper. "Alright, perfect. Initiative rolled, time to start combat. First up, yellow pawn."
He moved the pawn toward Vemnka's bishop, immediately putting her in danger. "One of the vagabonds rushes you, Vemnka, and you see the flash of Tabaxi claws as they raise their hand to strike at you." Andre's dice rolled, clattering to a halt inside the pad on his end, obscuring the results. "Does a 14 hit?"
"How do I check that," she asked, her tail going even crazier. Though, I couldn't tell if it was excitement or panic.
"AC," Andre responded flatly, "Armor Class."
"Right, yep." She looked down at her paper and flicked he ears 'no' then shook her head.
"The Tabaxi's claws swipe right above your head and miss by a hair. You can even feel the air move past you as you flinch backward. Next, the Goliath moves toward you, hefting his greatsword. Kimmich, if looks could kill, you'd be halfway to Valhalla by now. He glares at you with a mighty fire in his eyes. It's hard to tell, but you think he might have it out for you. He takes a swing with his sword and..." Andre rolled and looked back up at the table, his eyes focusing rather intensely on the black king representing the Goliath. "Meh, Nat 1. He swings and you dodge, causing his swing to miss wildly and land on the Tabaxi nearby. She takes," he rolls, "A sizable chunk of damage as blood flows from her lower abdomen."
"Wouldn't she be writhing in pain right now," Dad asked, pointing to the yellow-topped pawn.
"In real life? Yes. Here? I control the game, and while she is certainly hurt, she still has enough will to fight. Money is a powerful incentive for some people, especially bandits and vagabonds. Next, Sevkan, you notice the flash of steel as a dehooded human rushes you with a shortsword in hand. He has a keen eye and sharp nose, but your reflexes are faster as you dodge his swipe. He stumbles a bit, but recovers before you have a chance to harm him." Andre looks at Dad, who doesn't even seem to register the human's gaze as he looks over his sheet. "Kimmich, it's your turn. You can attack, retreat, use a spell-"
"Divine smite the Goliath, I'll use Divine Smite on the Goliath."
Andre lets out a chuckling laugh, "Now we're talkin'. Let's do this. Roll for attack."
Dad rolled, and I watched as the dice skipped across the table and finally landed on 11. "Plus five, so 16."
"Very good, that is a successful hit. Please roll both damage and the Divine Smite's 2d8."
Dad rolled his d8 three separate times, coalescing in a massive 18 damage, a 7, an 8, and a 3. "18 damage total against the Goliath."
Andre did a weird whistle as he marked down the information on what I could only assume was the stat sheet for the enemies. "18 against big guy. Sevkan, your turn. D-"
"Actually," Dad interrupted, "it says here that I have an extra action and a bonus action."
"Oh."
"So I'm going to attack him again."
"Okay."
Dad rolled another d8 which landed 6 side up. "Another six damage and I end my turn."
"Thank you, finally. Sevkan, go, please. Attack or... Well, all you can do is attack." Andre leaned back in his chair, stare planted squarely on me. I looked down at my sheet for any actions I had. I had a normal and bonus action, and that was it. I looked at the section marked features and traits and noticed that I could do three actions with action surge. "Alright, I'll attack three times. Twice with my halberd using action surge and once with that dagger, you forgot to give everyone that we all had the option to take." I glared right back at him.
"Yes, I didn't give you all the tools you could have had because it would have just wasted more time. But fine, if you want to use it, fine. It's a d6 slashing damage."
I rolled the 2d10 for damage. One landed on 8 while the other landed on 9. My d6 lands true on a 4. "21 damage to the beige-tipped pawn. That's the human, right?"
"Yep," Andre nodded as he wrote down the damage. "You take two swipes at the human with your halberd, both connect with both his arms and torso, slowing him considerably. It's only when he remains standing that you pull your dagger from its sheath and plunge it into his chest. You miss his heart by millimeters, but it does the job as he collapses in a pool of blood. Congrats, first knockout of the game."
I shudder at Andre's description of my character, who might as well be interchangeable with a Krakotl, killing a man. A human, for that matter. I look over to see Dad glaring daggers at Andre and Vemnka staring at me worriedly. I wave her off with my tail and focus back on Andre.
"Retribution is in store for you, though, as an Elf leaps over a table with two daggers drawn, ready to avenge her slain comrade. She..." Andre rolls and whoops as he punches a fist into the air. "She comes down with blinding speed and rakes her metal blades across your chest," He rolls again and lets out a slightly disappointed 'oh' before continuing. "You take a total of 8 damage from the Elf's daggers."
Andre, once again, leans forward, this time to remove the beige-tipped pawn from the table and replace it with a red cross, as well as move the green tipped toward where all the white pawns were. I assumed the gap in the markings must have been a door, as Andre had moved all the white pawns out of it when combat started. The green pawn must be escaping or blocking ours. Either way, we have to deal with the three remaining in front of us before we can handle that one.
"I see gears turning, always a good sign, but let's continue. Vemnka your combat turn. Make it count. You can use your bonus action to heal or attack with your mace, it doesn't matter as long as you do a different action when using it."
Vemnka looks over at me, then to the board with a contemplative look. "I'd like to use my first action to bless the two of them, then I'd like to use my bonus action to bonk the -what did you call it?"
"A Tabaxi."
"Yeah, that, I want to bonk that." Her tail swayed with contentment as she rolled her damage dice. It rolled into the batch of white pawns before landing on 6.
"Ouph, 'fraid that's not gonna be enough to hit anyone, but, Kimmich, Sevkan, both of you can now roll a d4 to accompany your attack roll." He flicked his d4 into the air but somehow missed it as it fell. It clattered onto the table and got flung into the living room as Andre tried to grab it. "Fuck, alright, hold on. Damned carpet's gonna be the death of me."
He went looking for the die, leaving us Venlil staring at the table before us.
"So what do you think," I asked abruptly.
"I don't know," Dad responded, his tone careful but gruff. "It's very clearly predatory. I mean, we wake up in a tavern after a night of drinking so hard our heads feel like they're about to explode and once the hangover clears we've got a band of roughnecks out for blood from the get-go." He squinted at the chess pieces representing our characters, they were all next to each other. "And I can't even really argue that we should stop because I'm fine with what's being depicted. Even if his description of you... knocking out that human was a bit over the top, I think that's the point."
"I agree," Vemnka spoke up, "The whole game is very fantastical, not meant to be compared to real life. I mean, sure, the concept of bounty hunters is a real thing, but I don't think there are humans as tall as that Goliath walking around. Or whatever a Tabaxi is."
"Fantastical and weird. If those don't describe humanity, I don't know what does," I said with a bemused flick of my tail.
"How about tired of hearing you talk about me behind my back," Andre's voice shouted from behind the couch, where he was scrounging for the lost die. Finally, he seemed to have found it, poking his head out from the backrest and looking over at us. "I'm joking of course, I don't mind at all. Unless you're insulting my taste in music, then we'll have a problem."
"I-I mean it's just-"
"Not for everyone, yadda yadda yadda. Anyway," Andre stood up, holding the d4 in his hand. "Lets continue. Tabaxi time." He took his seat and leaned forward to adjust the white pawns before rolling the hit dice. "Bruh. Another Nat 1. And here I was imagining the Goliath and Tabaxi to be the leaders of the group. Whatever. The Tabaxi attempts another swipe at you, or so it appears because she ends up cat-scratching the arm of the Goliath next to her. That's five damage, and it moves to the Goliath who is slightly pissed at everyone except for the Elf, who's, y'know, actually put in some work. The Goliath makes a wide swing, hoping to cut you all down in one fell swoop." He rolls the d20 three more times, once with a 'whoop' of success, another with a 'aww' of failure, and a final with a 'oh come the fuck on.' I could only assume it was a horrible failure. Andre's sigh fills the room. "Alright, Kimmich, you take 18 damage, he crit succeeded. Sevkan, you take no damage, and instead duck low as the swipe passes over you. Vemnka, you feel the blade move over you, but it does not connect due to your short stature. No, instead, he once again hits the fucking Tabaxi with his swing because he crit failed. Again. And because the human is no longer available to fight, it's now your turn Kimmich."
"I would like to smite again."
"Oh fuck, right you get two 1st level spell slots." Andre almost sounded annoyed when it was brought up, but relented nonetheless. "Take the hit dice."
Dad rolled, and it landed on 14. He rolled the d4 for the blessing Vemnka gave us. It landed on a 3. "Plus the five-"
"Yeah, yeah, it hits. Roll me damage."
"I'm sensing some hostilities from you," Dad said smugly.
"I'm starting to understand why my DMs hated being DMs, that's all. Please, fuck up that Goliath." And so he did, rolling a 15 in total. "You swing one of your longswords upward and cleave the Goliath's jaw in two, but he does not die. A mere flesh wound such as that would do little to dampen the giant-kin's will. No, what killed him was the bright light that engulfed his head after the strike landed. His face was the first to go as he tried to breathe through the holy flames surrounding him. His screams ended abruptly as his larynx melted away, leaving only writhing agony. He died a pitiable death in all fairness, as any sinner does. The second knockout of the game goes to Kimmich. Yay."
Again, the feeling of discomfort appeared as Andre described in unnecessary detail the visual of... someone burning alive. Oh stars, he planned that out, didn't he?
"Let's move on. Sev, your turn. First, lemme see you all roll perception again."
I rolled a 10 while both Dad and Vemnka rolled 16s. Adding modifiers made their 16s into 19s. "Alright. Again, Vemnka and Kimmich only, you see the figure who'd been moving toward the door at the beginning of the fight, now make a break for it as the Goliath collapses into a burnt-out husk. His hood is removed by the movement revealing it to be a green-scaled Dragonborn." Andre moves the Dragonborn's piece next to the door and through it, stopping it just within our sightlines. "He has a chance to escape, will you let him?" He looked at us expectantly.
I turned to Dad to see him eyeing the piece like a fresh firefruit. "Dad, no. If he leaves then that leaves the Elf and the Tub- Taba- Tabasi, whatever it's called. We can end this soon." Vemnka put her tail on his shoulder in an attempt to get his attention. He flinches at the touch and lowers his raised fur.
"Yes, yeah. Let him go," he says hoarsely.
"Alright, letting the Dragonborn go. Now it's Sev's turn. Go ahead and do something about his pesky elf." Andre moves the Elf's pawn a bit to put it back on the right square.
I shrug, attempting to fight off the conflicting feelings. On one paw, it's a game and no one is going to get hurt by me doing these things. But on the other, if I do this willingly does that make me any better than someone who would kill in real life?
Andre's voice snapped me out of my stupor. "Don't overthink it. It's a game, and this situation is self-defence. Kimmich is the only person here who's killed someone so far. The human will probably live in prison and the Dragonborn might find new meaning in life. It's not like any of this properly reflects the real world anyway. Just focus on the game, nothing more, nothing less."
I shook my body to rid myself of those thoughts and rolled my d20 and d4 from the blessing. "18 to hit."
"And hit it does. Halberd is a go!"
With another roll, it lands on a zero. "Got a 0?"
"Oh, yeah, the model I imposed the numbers on only uses one character for each side, but that's a 10. Good roll. Elf takes 10 damage and doesn't like you right now. I'm super tired of talking, so I'll just roll the hit dice. She attacks you for 19. Your AC is 19. Meets it beats it, that's a hit. Rolling damage, she lands a solid blow of 9 damage for her twin daggers. Now both you and Kimmich should have 3 health. Vem, your turn."
"Hit the tab?"
"Hit the tab."
"Hitting tab." Vemnka rolled her d20 and it landed on a 19. "19 plus whatever, I already know it hits."
"That it does," Andre responded. With a flick of his wrist, he knocks over the Tabaxi's pawn and places a cross where it was, he does the same with the Goliath's king. "Wait, why did you do that? I hadn't rolled damage."
"The Tabaxi had one health, there's no feasible way you do zero damage when rolling a dice with no zero on it. Anyway, let's wrap this up, it feels like we've been at this forever. Kimmich, your turn."
Dad sighed a deep whistling sigh. "I'll just roll to attack the Elf." He rolled his two dice, one landed on a 12 and the other landed on a 7, plus the 5 to his hits. "17 and 12. Rolling damage for that 17."
"Roll for both, the Elf's AC isn't that high."
"Really," I asked, bewildered.
"Really. The Goliath had the most AC at 16, but meets it beats it and Kimmich met it in the first round." The clack of dice interrupted him as Dad rolled his two damage die. Andre leaned forward to announce the numbers. "A total of 13. Congratulations, the three of you have just won a skewed encounter of DnD."
"Skewed encounter?"
"The Goliath had 40 health while everyone other than the Tabaxi had 20. The Tabaxi had 17. The Goliath had an AC of 16 while the rest had between 12 and 14. At least one of you should have died. I was betting on Kimmich because I had the Goliath go after him, but the nat 1s kinda stopped that from happening." Andre shook his prosthetic hands and brought them up to his chin. "Anyway, I'm dead tired. Never want to do that again, ever."
"I can't say I'm in the same cruiser as you, I found it quite fun, even with the gruesome descriptions," I said, probably unconvincingly. I did have fun, but it was a lot to take in all at once.
"I had fun too. Just, if we do do this again, try to tone back the predatory stuff. The fighting was fine, but the description was a bit... spot on I think." Vemnka's tail curled a bit as she probably imagined the images Andre described in her head.
Dad only gave a small 'hmph' as he scooted off his chair and went toward our rooms.
"Well," Andre started, "that's about what I expected from a bunch of scared space sheep."
I let out a whistle as Vemnka gently lowered herself to the ground, marched up to Andre, and bopped him on the thigh with all her might.
===================END=TRANSCRIPTION===================

Hello and welcome to Day 1 of the June Recovery Challenge, how are you?
Wishing you peace and all the success today and all month long, good luck everyone! :)

Today's check in:

Think of a scale from zero to 100 of how important it is for you to be in recovery. You can use the following chart as a guide:
https://preview.redd.it/zele7eyydy3d1.png?width=829&format=png&auto=webp&s=a1cf0a82c438ac9bca45d3b2254e41ecb1b3815e
Where are you on this scale?
What led you to choose the number you did, as opposed to a higher or lower number?
​
​
If you're just joining us today for the first time, here is some info about what we do here! :)
​
What the Recovery Challenge posts are:

• daily check ins and 5x per week bonus exercises (drafted from my notes and handouts from treatment programs I've done and then further developed with contributions from group members!); all are optional and anyone is welcome to show up in whatever way works for them
• peer support
• a friendly and non-judgmental community with people at all stages of recovery, all of us having ups and downs
• accepting and respectful of all paths to recovery

What they are not:

• about dieting or weight loss**
• about being perfect
• a sales pitch for a private program

If you're new to recovery or it's been a while, here are some "getting ready" posts, in case they might be helpful for you to set yourself up for success this month!

• Thinking about why recovery might be important to you; The Stages of Change
• Do you need a meal plan?
• Ways to get through urges
• Shifting your binging habits before you stop binging; Ambivalence Towards Recovery

I have about 3 months' worth of daily material that I am rotating through for these posts so whenever someone joins, if they stick around for three months or so they will see pretty much everything I have to offer :)
**I believe in respecting individuals' autonomy over their body and recovery path, and I do not believe in nor am I qualified to be telling people what they should or shouldn't do regarding body size! That said, I try to keep the recovery challenges as a weight-neutral space and free of discussions around weight and weight numbers; while some may be on a weight-loss journey (and it's everyone's individual choice to make), many (if not most) people in ED recovery either need or want to accept their bodies as they are regardless of current size, and so I try to keep the space as free of "thinner is better" messaging as possible.
​
WHAT IF I HAVE A SLIP DURING THE CHALLENGE?
if you have a slip and want to turn it into a recovery learning opportunity, here are some questions: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ZhdjmzEVA6UTCNAEU53xn9LuN8TOfLbl/edit
(you don't have to post your answers if you don't want to, but I do recommend writing or typing them out somewhere)
HOW CAN I GET A REMINDER TO CHECK IN TOMORROW?
Copy/paste the following text into your comment to get a reminder from Reddit:
RemindMe!
When you get your reminder, look here for a link to the next day's post :)

[INDEX]
I banked the fire and stared into the golden eyes of Beatale before I crept into my makeshift tent.
I still had my auric vision running and couldn’t help but notice the thin silver cord that ran from me to Horse. Firming up my aura, I reached out with my hand and grabbed it. I could feel the nearly imperceptible vibration between my fingers as I used my mind to probe at the thread. I could feel a bright spark of intellect, a light at the end of a tunnel. Pushing with my mind, I slid down the thread until the spark grew larger and eventually filled my inner vision with a hazy white light. Horsey thoughts nudged at me curiously.
I slid into the haze and immediately lost all sense of direction. If it wasn’t for the silver thread, I’d have no idea how to exit this shifting white fog. Horsey thoughts got stronger as I followed the thread while the haze thinned and cleared to reveal an endless prairie of green grass. I found myself standing before a naked man wearing a horse mask and I stared in shock. It was obviously me wearing a cheap costume horse mask — there was no mistaking my tattoos.
“What did you expect?” Horse neighed at me. “I am you and you are me and we are all together. Goo goo ga joob.”
Horse made a shooing motion with his hands and I accelerated backwards through the white haze and slammed into my own body with a gasp. I stared at the tarp overhead for a long minute, processing this new revelation. Horse was a part of me, a piece of my spirit. Whatever psychic stuff I did with that silver cord lead me into a house of mirrors where I got to look at myself pretending to be a horse. I can’t even deal with that right now.
Rolling into my blankets, I dropped off to sleep.
*Ding*
-=- - Welcome to the Dreamworld - Included in the Psychic Skills pack, the Inner Sanctum is your psychic domain. It is the mental fortress that you must secure and maintain to defend against psychic and spiritual assaults. All of your neurosis and fears are symbolised in this realm and must be defeated or subjugated before you can become master of the domain. Good luck. -=-
I banished the pop-up and looked around. I knew I was asleep, but everything was just as real as when I was awake. I was breathing, I could feel the floor under my feet, and if it weren’t for the pop-up, I would have sworn I had been teleported. The room I was in resembled an oversized luxury prison cell, maybe a thirty foot cube. No windows. Rough stone walls with thick mortar. Large brass wall sconces were set directly into the stone and suffused the room with a warm, golden light provided by glowing rocks. The stone floor had colourful Persian rugs tastefully placed. A high plaster ceiling was painted with a rendition of Michelangelo’s ‘Creation of Adam’, depicting me as both Adam and God.
There was a comfy sofa in front of a large screen television that hung from one wall and an ornate grandfather clock ticked loudly in the corner. It was currently 10:08 PM. Another wall was a floor to ceiling bookshelf, stuffed with books of varying sizes. The third wall was covered with pictures and I could see at a glance that they were images from my life. The fourth wall had a thick riveted steel door on the right side, a full sized mirror on the left, and a computer workstation in the middle.
The picture wall was my first target. A few were quite large, nearly life sized, while others were tiny prints no larger than the palm of my hand. Scenes of my life were displayed in each one. The largest was me riding Horse with a shit-scared expression, shooting at a pack of wolves. Others were smaller, each with different frames. Some ornate gold or silver, others plain wood, a few wrapped in briars or barbed wire. Nanny Ramsey holding me as a young child. My dog Jean with a red ball in his mouth. My parents, screaming at me. I turned my attention to the books. Books are safe. Books don’t judge you.
The sweet, musty scent of a used book store filled my nostrils as I drew close to the honey coloured shelves. Hundreds of volumes filled the wall from floor to ceiling, with a ladder that could be rolled along a rail to access the top. I smiled at the sight. I had always wanted a library like this. I pulled a book at random and read the title, “Confused Fantasies about Joseph Harris, part XXIV of the Middle School Years”.
I slid the book back onto the shelf. Let’s see what’s on TV.
The remote was a slim, futuristic looking affair with a minimum of buttons. I pointed it at the television and moments later the huge screen came to life and presented me with a simple menu for movies, divided into six categories: Happy, Surprised, Afraid, Disgusted, Angry, and Sad. I scrolled through the offerings for a minute, reading the titles and reviews about the movies of my life. It really bothered me that there were so few selections in the Happy section.
The number of Sad movies increased by one.
I walked over to the mirror and noticed there was a small sticky note pasted to it. “Astral Realm. Experienced users only.” I shoved the note in my pocket and stared at my image. Sturdy black boots, black denim jeans and shirt with mother-of-pearl buttons, deep brown gun belt slung at my hip, red bandanna and black felt hat. All I needed was a pencil moustache and I would look like the stereotypical villain in any spaghetti western. At that very moment I decided to grow out a goatee. I’d rather be mistaken for a bad guy than a victim.
So how does this astral realm thing work?
The mirror appeared to be nothing more than a mirror. It was cold, smooth glass surrounded by a wrought iron frame, and reflected my image. I didn’t necessarily want to go walking into danger, but I wanted to know how it worked. I pushed and prodded the glass in frustration until I noticed my image grinning at me. I jumped back in surprise and it doubled over in silent laughter.
“Hilarious, dude. You got me,” I huffed. “So how do I get in?”
My mirror-self tipped his hat and stepped to side.
I reached up to the mirror again and my hand passed through, vanishing as if cut off. Okay, just a quick peek and we’ll explore the rest of the room. I stepped through and the world shifted around me. I was standing back at the campsite. My body was insubstantial as a ghost and the tarp was a wisp of substance running straight through me. Non living things don’t seem to have much presence in this realm. Glancing down, I saw my sleeping body rolled up in the blankets, a thin silver thread running from it to me, and another thread running to Horse.
Looking around, I surveyed the campsite. My astral vision seemed to be on and had an unlimited range. I could see the life all around me, the distant forest was a sea of greenish-gold, grasses and brush nearby glowed with spectral light. Tiny ghost insects scurried while ghost mice nibbled at whatever ghost mice nibble on. Ghost seeds and ghost insects, I suppose. I turned my attention overhead and gaped at the sight of a monstrous serpentine spirit flying through the inky void. I dropped back through the tent and rolled inside my body. That was plenty enough for now.
I rolled through the mirror and landed flat on my back, staring at the fresco on the ceiling. Vinnie-God winked at me and Vinnie-Adam grinned. Climbing to my knees, I brushed non-existent dust from my trousers and watched mirror-me doubled over in soundless laughter.
“Hey, laughing-boy!” I yelled at him. “You’re like the guardian or something, right? You got it covered?”
Mirror-me stood and saluted with a smile, then gave me two thumbs up. A moment later, his face took on a serious expression and he wriggled his right hand in the ‘maybe’ motion. Then he pointed at me, tapped his wrist, and then a finger to his head.
It all depends on how fast I learn stuff, I guess.
Two thumbs up and a winning smile reflected back to me.
A large cork board was mounted to the wall over the computer and a small note was pinned to it. “Note to self: Don’t fuck with the Elvish womens.”
The computer screen featured a screensaver of me as Vitruvian Man doing callisthenics over the words ‘HumanOS’. I tapped the spacebar and was rewarded with the sound of powerful fans kicking to life as the computer emerged from sleep mode and prompted me for a password. Should I assume it’s the same as the password on the computer I pawned in my previous life?
Password: *******esi
I was rewarded with a sweet R&M desktop and a couple of icons. System, NeuralNet, My-Tunes, My-Movies, My-Office.
System was just what I expected, lots of .dna files and other confusing scariness that allowed me to tweak my physical body and mental state. My-Tunes was a collection of every song I’d ever heard and My-Movies was a collection of every movie I’d ever seen. Not that I’m complaining, but it would have been nice to have “My-Games” so I could play RDR. My-Office was a clone of the popular software by a similar name. I have no idea what I’ll ever need a spreadsheet for in this world.
NuralNet opened up a search engine called Me-Seeks, featuring a familiar blue guy.
I typed in “beer” and several thousand results were displayed, anything I’d ever read, heard, or watched about beer, including how to make it. This right here made the price of admission totally worth it, access to an exact copy of everything I’d ever read, and I was a voracious reader. Sadly, most of the stuff I read was futurology — solar panels, electronics, biotech advancements, quantum computing. The material for steam engines, blacksmithing, farming and the like, were slim pickings. That’s okay though, I could still reproduce the Gutenberg press, the cotton gin, simple internal combustion engines, and basic batteries along with some sketchy knowledge of metal alloys, acids, bases, and other things I had read over the years. All that wasted time watching “How Things Work” was finally going to pay off. I copied a few likely money makers to My-Office, saved the file, and exported to my Notes, just in case they didn’t exist on Aerth.
A popup covered the screen.
📱 [New Upgrade Available!] 📱
🎉 Enhance Your Experience with the Latest HumanOS Features! 🎉
🌟 Features Include:

• 🧠 Memory Booster: Increase your Memory for smoother multitasking and improved performance.
• 🔋 Energy Optimizer: Extend your battery life with advanced power-saving techniques.
• 🛠️ Utility Upgrades: Access new apps and utilities to enhance your daily life and adventures.
• 🗺️ Advanced Mapping: Never get lost again with enhanced GPS and location tracking.

🔥 Special Offer: Only 2000 credits for version 2.0 or 5000 credits for version 3.0! 🔥
[Upgrade Now ✅] [Remind Me Later ❌]
Apparently I could upgrade myself, which reduced the cost of using my Utilities while providing other minor benefits. My Utilities would level up as I used them, which would increase their battery cost, so if I didn’t keep pace with an update to the OS they could become prohibitively expensive to operate.
Stupid pay-to-win world.
So, do I pay 2000 credits for version 2.0 or 5000 credits for version 3.0?
I selected version 3.0 and klicked [Install]. After watching it download the update, it popped up another screen that asked if I wanted to update now, or wait until Midnight for the mandatory update.
I selected [No] just as the grandfather clock chimed 10:30 PM. I wondered if time ran slower in here, because it seemed like I had spent a lot more time on the computer than 15 minutes. Walking over to the imposing steel door, I noticed a bronze key with a thin chain in the lock. There was another sticky note on the door. “Subconscious. Please keep the key with you at all times.”
That’s not scary at all, is it?
I unlocked the door with a loud clunk and pulled it open to reveal a bedroom straight out of some royal castle. I could tell immediately that it had seen better days. The tapestries on the wall were frayed and fading. The canopy over the bed had a few holes in it. A thin layer of dust covered the mantle of a small fireplace set into the wall. There was a window letting in bright sunlight and I moved over to look outside.
I was on the third floor of a keep surrounded by the walls and turrets of a modest castle. A castle that had fallen into serious disrepair. Did this represent the state of my inner mind? One tower was shattered and the curtain wall under it damaged. The lower bailey was full of litter. I could see a few soldiers walking around the allure, keeping watch.
I have people in my subconscious?
Someone behind me cleared their throat.
Whirling, I discovered a familiar old man standing in the door of the bedroom. What was left of his hair formed a white halo around his head, his face was unshaven and covered with several days of growth. He was dressed like a poor and tattered manservant, but carried himself with a dignified air.
“Woodhouse?”
“It’s nice to see the master at home,” He said with a proper English accent. “There are many matters that require the master’s attention.”
“Uh, sure,” I said, hanging the key around my neck and tucking it in my shirt. “And who are you again?”
“Your personal manservant, of course” he said with a slight bow. Walking over to the steel door, he pulled it closed and it locked with a solid thunk. “Master should always keep his inner sanctum closed. One never knows if something nasty will creep in.”
“Thank you, uh, Woodhouse. I’ll remember that,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “So what needs tending and how do things work around here?”
He smiled and beckoned me with a white gloved hand. “If master would be so kind as to follow me, I’ll introduce him to the staff and explain the duties and obligations of his domain.”
I’m 99.9% certain that everyone here is just me wearing a mask, so I shrugged and followed Woodhouse out of the bedroom and into the rest of my subconscious.
Five minutes later I was on the ground floor and seated on a shabby throne with the cast of a popular —and probably very copyright protected— animation in front of me. Woodhouse was the head butler and my personal manservant. Pam was the cook and demanded that I start importing sugar and alcohol before she was shushed by Woodhouse. Carol was a maid. Krieger was chancellor and Cyril was the steward. Archer and Lana were in charge of security. Ray was the marshal in charge of everything from the stables to the blacksmith.
I stared in disbelief at the motley crew kneeling in front of me. No wonder my inner mind was in such shambles. I was overcome with an irrational sense of anger at myself.
“Arright, listen up,” I barked, my voice echoing around the room. “I swear to God that I will fire every single one of you and hire circus clowns to replace you if you keep fucking things up. No joke. Circus clowns, got it?”
I ran a hand over my face as Ray pissed himself. “The only reason I’m not putting a boot in your asses right now is because I realise that you’re aspects of me, and the people you represent are pretty damn good at their jobs when they give enough of a shit to actually do them. As a team, you’re dysfunctionally fantastic and always seem to come out ahead no matter the odds.”
Heaving a sigh, I continued. “Things have changed and I need to get my shit together. I’m going to need every one of you to pull your weight and help me help you. Get back to your duties, I’ll meet you one on one later.”
My subconscious caretakers scurried out of the room.
“I’ll have one of the maids tend to the piss,” Woodhouse assured me.
“Never mind that,” I snapped. “I honestly had no idea my mind was such a shit show. I’m very disappointed in myself.” I pictured the Angry, Sad, and Disgusted counters on my personal movies clicking up. “Show me what needs to be done and let’s get started.”
During Woodhouse’s walking tour, everything clicked into place. This was some altered version of Bodiam castle, a location that was on my bucket list of places to visit. The royal council room, located behind the throne room, contained a “living” tapestry on the wall that showed the castle and surrounding land in real time. The castle was located in the middle of a small lake, and a single wood bridge led to the mainland. A small town surrounded the lake and a wall encircled the town. Outside the wall, the land was an irregular patchwork of forest and field, with a stinking swamp to the south. The entire “kingdom” was maybe ten miles across, surrounded by impassable mountains with innumerable creeks that fed the lake which drained into the southern swamp.
“Zombies are the problem, sir.” Woodhouse said, as I surveyed the living tapestry of my mental domain.
“Zombies?” I prompted.
“Yes sir, Zombies” Woodhouse continued. “Nasty bitey things that come in from the mountains and harass the peasants. They’ve gotten especially worse over the last few months. The soldiers do what they can, but they seem to have lost all motivation. Probably because they haven’t been paid.”
“And who pays them?”
“Typically chancellor Krieger is in charge of financial matters, although Steward Figgis has taken over the duty, sir.”
“Then let’s make Figgis our first stop.”
“Very good, sir.”
The office of the steward was run by Cyril Figgis, who managed the kingdom in my absence. It was overflowing with paperwork and charts, books and scrolls piled high on every flat surface. Cyril was desperately attempting to tidy things when Woodhouse and I walked in.
“Yo..you..your majesty,” Cyril stuttered, bowing low. Scrolls fell from his overloaded arms, spilling across the floor. He dropped to his knees and scrambled to gather them up. “I didn’t expect you to visit so soon. Please forgive the mess, housekeeping has been slacking…”
This was the guy who ran things while I was conscious.
“Shut up, Cyril” I said. “You’re responsible for everything in this office. That includes keeping it organised and tidy.”
“Y..yes milord.”
“It’s my understanding that you’re in charge of making sure everyone gets paid. So why aren’t we paying people?” I asked.
“We’re nearly out of Fuks, your majesty. I’ve been saving them for emergencies.”
“Fucks?”
“Fuks,” Cyril explained, pushing a pile of books off a large chest and opening it. Reaching inside he pulled out two small bags and emptied them on top of his cluttered desk. “Gold and Silver Fuks, the currency of the kingdom. I can’t maintain the kingdom when I have no Fuks to give.”
Behold the subconscious kingdom of Vincent J. Carter, it runs on Fuks.
“So how do I get more fuks?” I asked, examining one of the coins. It had an image of me on one side and symbol on the other that could be interpreted as “peace among worlds”.
“You kill the zombies, your majesty.”
Of course I do.
Woodhouse and I left Cyril’s office and headed towards the office of the chancellor where Krieger worked. It seemed that Cyril took over financial matters when Krieger became erratic and proposed luring all the zombies into the city and setting it on fire. Not sure how that corresponds to my own self-destructive behaviour, but I’ve had some dark thoughts over the last couple of months and I’m sure they’re reflected here.
Krieger’s office was much neater in comparison to Cyril’s, but it wasn’t by much. Shelves lined the walls and were filled with an array of questionable items, including a still snapping zombie head in a jar. While the office of the chancellor was supposed to be in charge of financial matters, it looked more like a dodgy rummage sale.
Krieger was launching sword blades at a pig carcass when we walked in.
“What exactly are you doing?” I asked, standing in the doorway.
“Hm? Oh, your majesty!” he said, turning around and bowing deeply. “I’m testing a new invention. It’s a spring loaded hilt that shoots sword blades. Very useful for our soldiers.”
“Stupidest idea ever,” I snapped. “I hate everything about it.”
“Okay,” Krieger said, tossing the hilt into a nearby pile of junk. “But don’t blame me when you need to shoot a sword at a zombie and don’t have one.”
“So why aren’t you managing the financial affairs? Collecting taxes, paying people, stuff like that?”
“Because the population has declined so much none of that matters?”
“What do you mean?”
“Wellll, the population represents things you care about,” Krieger said, going into lecture mode. “And the zombies and other monsters are real or imagined problems in your way. Since you don’t care about too many things the population has shrunk to just what’s needed to keep everything running on the bare minimum of fuks. And since you don’t seem to have any long or short term goals, there’s no need to kill off the zombies and get more fuks. Everything is fine just the way it is.”
“No, it’s not Krieger” I said, grinding my teeth. “My mind is in a shambles. It’s a joke. I want it fixed. No, I want it better than fixed. I want it improved.”
“Oh! I’ve got just the thing for that!” He said, digging around in his pockets, “It’s a spring-loaded hilt that shoots swords!”
Pam and Cheryl were hanging out a gallery window jeering at Archer and Lana sparring in the inner courtyard.
“What the hell are you doing!” I snapped
They whirled in surprise and then dropped into deep curtseys.
“Your majesty!”
I took a deep breath, trying to regain my centre. “Get to work cleaning this place up. Find a room, clean it, and move on to the next. Start with my bedroom, then the throne room and the council chamber, then everything else.”
Cheryl spoke up. “Can’t do it. We got no fuks to clean with.”
“You need fuks to clean?”
“Gotta buy stuff,” Pam said. “Cleaning supplies, food. You wanna eat, you’re gonna have to spend some fuks.”
“Talk to Cyril,” I ordered. “Tell him I said to get you supplied.”
They ran off in the direction of the stewards office.
I watched Archer and Lana bashing each other enthusiastically through the window.
Several minutes later the sparring couple stopped and bowed when Woodhouse and I stepped into the inner courtyard.
“Your majesty”
“My liege”
“Enough,” I said. “If you have enough energy to smash each other, you have enough energy to smash zombies. Tell me what I need to know so I can start gathering fuks.”
Archer shrugged and spoke first. “You just kill the zombies and other monsters. They drop fuks.”
“Anything special about the zombies?” I asked. “Are they fast? Do people get turned into zombies when bitten?”
“Nope,” Lana said, resting her wooden sword on her shoulder. “Most of them are slow shamblers and just need a good wack to the head to kill them.”
“Some are special,” Archer interjected. “Occasionally you’ll have some fast ones, or those that need holy water to kill. They’re just bad memories, figments of your personality that need to be eliminated. Some are worse than others.”
“The zombies are bad memories?” I asked, imagining all the bad memories that I had.
“Memories, thoughts, insecurities, metaphysical mumbo-jumbo,” Woodhouse supplied. “They are endless, but constant vigilance can keep them under control.”
“So let’s get started,” I said. “Lead the way.”
Lana and Archer lead me up to the parapet over the front gate where I looked over at the dozens of zombies milling about aimlessly in front of the entrance to my mind. Pulling out my gun, I began to pick them off, easy as shooting fish in a barrel. The crack of my spell pistol attracted more zombies and I dispatched them with ease until no more were left around the gate. As I fired each shot I could feel some sort of existential energy flowing from me, draining some hidden reserve.
“Gather up the Fuks,” I commanded. “And Lana?”
“Mi’lord?”
“There’s no excuse for this. From now on, I expect the walls to be clear of all zombies.”
“Yes mi’lord,” she said, giving me a small bow.
Turning to Archer, I shook my head. “You’re obviously my personal narcissism, so just try to stay out of Lana’s way, or better yet - try to kill more zombies than her. If you think you can.”
Archer scoffed. “No contest. I took top marks in sharpshooting.”
“That means I should expect to see results by tomorrow. I look forward to it.”
Archer looked panicked for a moment then smiled. “Sure, I can give you results.”
Turning back to Woodhouse I said “Show me what else need attending.”
Woodhouse led me through the town that represented my mind, pointing out each business that had fallen into disrepair, suggested others that needed improvements, and additions that would benefit me. In the distance, I could hear Lana and Archer shooting at the crowd of zombies and with each echoing shot I felt a tiny bit better about everything.
[INDEX]

So...this is likely going to be a long post, I apologize in advance as I kind of just have a lot of my mind to expand upon.
I am a 33 year old male, I first got Covid in late December 2023. It was rough, What complicates this for me is that I didn't feel good before Covid. For years I dealt with major fatigue issues, what some would consider similar to adrenal fatigue type symptoms, low blood sugar feelings every day, anxiety, all kinds of weird stomach/chest sensations, lack of energy, heat sensitivity, anxiety and more. The only things I previously had been confirmed to have that could have contribued to this were low Vitamin D and a hiatal hernia. Over the last few years I've had a batery of heart tests, stomach tests, all never really found much other than the hiatal hernia.
Covid was rough on me for sure. Had the worst cough I've ever had for weeks. Though oxygen remained normal, the worst muscle pains I've ever had, and stomach issues, frequent bowel movement. In the weeks following Covid I felt like my hiatal hernia had been made worse as I was just noticing symptoms in there more. I also feel sleepy way more than I did before Covid. The coughing stopped, but I dont know that any of it totally went away, there were periods of time where I forgot I had Covid and even thought I was totally over it a few times, but right now I am reconsidering it.
The last few weeks I have really been just not been feeling rough..and its nothing new to me totally but it all feels worse.
Muscle pains and soreness...I dont have horrible muscle pains, but I have pains that are just there that I didnt notice before, arms, legs, ribs, back, chest. Now weird feelings werent new to me, but its all so much more noticeable after Covid. Its almost like...My muscles are all just a little heavy/sore, like if I want to go on a walk, its like starting an old car, something at 33 I dont think is the norm, just sitting here typing this paragraph I've noticed a strain/muscle pain in my left knee, upper thigh, fingers, and left wirst. They are low on the pain scale like 2 or 3 out of 10, but they are there. It is similar to the muscle feelings you get when you are sick but not quite on that scale, just a lower level daily 24/7 version of it.
My hiatal hernia has felt so much worse in the last few weeks. I am noticing so much more pressure around it, its almost like a baby kicking in my lower chest/upper stomach when I move positions or lean wrong, or strain. I've had lots of nausea last few weeks also going along with it, it also goes along with the low blood sugar feelings I get which are fixed by foods (not sugar), and sometimes its hard to tell if I am sick or hungry or what.
Along with the theme of stomach issues, and this one gets a little more graphic...I haven't been normal with bowel movements since I had Covid. Atleast my usual. I was..pretty regular pre-covid. Every couple days, maybe once a day, but it was..simple..relatively the same...Since I had Covid, its extremely irregular, much more frequently it can be more diahhrea like, usually very soft, sometimes multiple times a day which used to be extremely rare for me, and where I used to be able to hold it before, it seems to come on much more suddenly for me now.
For a weird one, I feel like my anxiety is worse again since Covid...now I had anxiety for years which was actually caused by all the strange symptoms I had over the years. But it had been maintained and stable before Covid. Now it feels like any adrenaline release at all absolutely screws up my body. Good or bad energy. Watching a sporting event and getting excited = feeling bad...Even gaming...I am an eSports compeititor, mainly with sim racing, but I enjoy other games. I've noticed that if I play a game like Fortnite now, when I get done if its a tense game, I am borderline panic attack and my body freaking out for literally no reason, and it comes on out of nowhere once i'm done. Fortnite seems to do it worst of all games.
There are more things im sure I am forgetting but its very late, and this really hit me today that maybe somehow Long Covid is playing up all of these things after all. I did have an episode of my heart racing last month and they said it was POTS..I had an EKG while it was going, EKG was normal, Chest XRay was normal...I dont necessarily believe it was POTS but I also cant rule it out as I have had other POTS like symptoms before.