I want to share a story today that highlights the power of the Business Model Canvas (BMC). A few years ago, I was sitting in a cafe with my friend with an idea for a new business model in my head. I wanted to create something tangible, but I didn't know how to structure my thoughts.
While enjoying my coffee, I grabbed a napkin and started sketching. I had heard about a tool called the Business Model Canvas. Without much thought, I drew a simple grid with nine boxes on the napkin.

1. Customer Segments: Who are our most important customers?
   
2. Value Propositions: What problems are we solving for our customers? What needs are we satisfying?
   
3. Channels: Through which channels do we reach our customers?
   
4. Customer Relationships: What type of relationship do our customers expect from us?
   
5. Revenue Streams: What are our customers willing to pay for?
   
6. Key Resources: What resources are necessary to deliver our value proposition?
   
7. Key Activities: What activities are crucial for our business model?
   
8. Key Partnerships: Who are our key partners and suppliers?
   
9. Cost Structure: What are the most important costs inherent in our business model?
   

In no time, I filled the boxes with my thoughts and ideas. What had started as a chaotic jumble in my mind took shape on the napkin. The Business Model Canvas helped me gain clarity and structure my business model.
This simple sketch on a napkin was the beginning of something big. With the BMC, I had a visual tool that helped me identify and analyze the key aspects of my business model. It was like having a map that guided me to my goal.
I started sharing my ideas with friends and potential business partners. The BMC allowed me to communicate my vision clearly and concisely. It fostered collaboration and led us to explore different scenarios and identify potential weaknesses early on.
In the following months, this simple sketch evolved into a solid business model. We founded our company, tested our assumptions, and continuously refined our model. The Business Model Canvas was our constant companion, helping us stay agile and adaptable.
Today, our company is successfully established in the market, and I am convinced that the Business Model Canvas played a significant role in our success. It was more than just a sketch on a napkin – it was the key to our success.
Have you had similar experiences with the Business Model Canvas? Or maybe you've never heard of it and are now curious? I look forward to hearing your stories and thoughts!

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"We're your mates." Mates? Six mates? How could it be?! "Wait a minute... you said all of you. That's not how mates work. Fated mates are two people, not an entire harem." I hissed as I shook my head. "This conversation is ridiculous because it's not real." Silence filled the space between us for several long seconds. "You really want us to leave?" My stomach twisted at his words. We just met, and yet he sounded devastated as he asked the question. I silently cursed myself for causing the change I heard. If I was a better person, I would say something else. "Yes." "Fine, we'll leave, but only on one condition. Buss each one of us. Then, if you feel nothing, we'll walk out of here without protest." ———————— I would die in this very spot, and no one would have a clue. Six hours... I'd been trapped under this pile of random things for six hours. My hips and back ached from how long I'd been stuck in this exact position. I'd tried everything I could think of, but the massive pile of unknown stuff never moved. Something heavy had landed on my back, keeping me pinned face down on scattered newspapers and the occasional book. How did I know there were books when I couldn't see them? Because of the sharp corners stabbing into me. If that level of depressing suckage wasn't enough, I had to pee. My bladder hurt... felt like it was about to burst. Because of course, the first time I decided to drink spirits, I'd end up faced and trapped under a pile of a hoarder's treasure. To relieve some of the pressure off my cheek, I dug my shoulder into the newspaper floor and tilted my head until my forehead pressed against the mess underneath me. The small amount of relief I felt from the change of position was enough to stop me from going insane. For now. Ding dong. "You've got to be shitting me." I grumbled into the ancient newspapers. Someone at the door wouldn't matter. I couldn't get off the floor... erm, pile of stuff that acted as a floor, to answer the door. Whoever was on the other side would eventually think someone wasn't home and leave. And so would my only chance at being rescued. "Ha." I couldn't stop the sarcastic laugh from escaping. Even if they did come in, whoever they were wouldn't want to sign up for this insanity. I didn't even want to deal with this nightmare my life had become. Thanks mom. Ding dong. Ding dong. Who rang the doorbell multiple times? Seriously, just go away and let me die. Sure, I would be in the hall of shame for dumb ways to go, but I'd already accepted my fate. Not only would I die in one of the most embarrassing ways in history, I'd go with the dullest life experiences. Why? Because I'd always done what I was supposed to do... every single expectation my parents had, I jumped at the chance to please them. I was an idiot. A boring, lame, not once destined to save the world, sheltered little girl that grew in an inexperienced woman. My life was pathetic. "Parker, are you okay?" The deep voice sent shivers through me. I imagined this unknown man growling in my ear. Then my senses came back to me. While I was on the verge of being crushed to death, someone had broken into my house. Great, just what I needed. Good luck mister robber. If you can find anything valuable, then you deserved it. The logical side of my brain caught up to current events. First thing, a robber wouldn't call out my name as he broke into my house. Second, I didn't know anyone with a voice so delicious... uh, I meant distinct. Yeah. Should I respond or hope they gave up and left? My mother would have insisted I remain silent. Her voice slid through my memory. "Men were a distraction to a woman's career." I rolled my eyes at the phrase she'd said throughout my childhood and even after I'd moved out on my own. If I was going to leave this world, it would be after doing something ridiculous. I'd call the man with the delicious voice over, then I could die from embarrassment. "I'm over here!" What I'd intended to be a shout came out more as a breathy moan. I barely had room to breathe. It seemed shouting was impossible. A burning hot pain shot through my neck as I tried to turn my head to see the footsteps that approached. Nope, that wasn't going to happen. My mysterious, silver tongued hero or burglar's looks would have to remain a mystery just a bit longer. "Over here!" Just like last time, his voice made me shudder. With a voice like that, the man had to be hot. I hoped he had a beard... and tattoos. Not only would it make my mother roll in her grave, I'd always loved looking at burly, tatted up, bearded guys. Add in hair that was long enough to pull and I couldn't think of a good reason to ever leave the house. The crushing weight finally lifted off me. I sucked in a deep breath, then immediately regretted it as I choked on the oxygen. My lungs seized as the rush of air shocked them. Hands grabbed my arms and shoulders, then the world tilted as they lifted me to my feet. I bent over and grabbed my knees as my equilibrium spun. Hands patted my back, helping me calm. Actually, there were more than two hands. I counted enough to equal three people. When I got my breathing under control, I dared follow the black boots that stood at the top of my vision. My gaze slid up, taking in black cargo pants that rode low on a pair of hips. Further up, a black tactical vest contained... bottles of cleaning solution. What the heck? The moment I went full vertical, my balance tilted again. I stepped back to catch myself. In front of me stood a massive man, the kind I had to look up to just to catch a view of his chin... his bearded chin. My fingers itched with the need to touch it. I didn't. It would be weird to stroke a hot stranger's beard. Wouldn't it? I shook my head. Of course it would be weird. I turned, taking in the four men and one woman standing all around me. The sound of newspapers sliding preceding my right foot slid out from underneath me. The giant of a man caught me before I fell on my hips in front of everyone. They all wore similar black tactical gear with cleaning supplies. Colorful bottles of solution, a duster, a roll of trash bags, and... was that a broom and a mop with shoulder straps? Who were these people? "Parker, are you okay?" The deliciously deep voice asked from behind me. After a few tries, I accepted the fact that I was speechless. My brain nudged at me, telling me I'd missed a crucial detail. Every brain cell misfired as I looked them over again. Correction, five of them wore black tactical gear. Every single one of them was drop dead gorgeous, and it made me feel out of place. One of the guys stood off to the side with his arms crossed over his chest. I blinked. No, that couldn't be right. I blinked again, but the sight stayed the same. A man stood taller than those closest to him. Peeking over his crossed arms was a ruffled white fabric with black lace woven through it and tied in a bow. There was even a small scattering of chest hair sticking over the edge. The hem of the skirt ended well above his knee, revealing a tattoo that covered his entire right thigh. My gaze traveled up to his face. A plush black beard contrasted with the skimpy maid's outfit he wore. "I..." Words failed me again. I gestured to the man whose outfit didn't fit the others. He rolled his eyes as he tightened his grip on his arms. "They thought it would be funny to prank me. Did you know, not only did they buy this ridiculous outfit, they stole the rest of my clothes, so I'd have to wear this?" "Uh, no. I don't even know who all of you are." For whatever reason, it hadn't dawned on me that all these incredibly attractive people were standing in my house. Like inside, where they could take in the horror of what my mother left me to inherit. Mortification slammed into me. They'd seen the awful mess. "You all need to leave." "Parker?" The burly man's voice from behind me caught my attention. He waited until I turned around to continue. "You don't remember asking us to come here, do you?" Ice slid down my spine. I'd been pretty drunk last night, but since I'd never had spirits before and I'd decided to take shots of everything in my mother's 'social hour' cabinet, I wasn't even surprised I'd woken up with a hangover. "How much did you have to drink last night?" "Seeing how I'm awake now, apparently not enough. Who are you, and how do you know me?" The man bared his teeth at me, making a sound that I could only describe as a hiss. "Never again. From now on, if you need something, you ask us." I dismissed him with a wave of my hand. "Why would I ask you anything?" "Because we're your mates." Hard stop. Mates? A giddy feeling in my belly told me he didn't mean a friend. I held a finger up for him to give me a minute. A sharp pain slid through my abdomen, reminding me I had yet to relieve myself after my drunken night of mistakes. One of the other men spoke up. "I know it's a lot to take in, and you're probably really confused, but we are all your fated mates." I'd read enough werewolf romance novels to know what they meant, and they were dead wrong. Shifters weren't real. "Yeah mate, tell us what you need, and we'll get it for you." "I need to pee." And with that, I stomped out to the nearest bathroom and locked myself inside. Why wouldn't the ground open and swallow me whole? I sat on the bathroom floor with my back propped against the wall and hugged my legs to my chest as I rested my forehead on my knees. Not only had people witnessed the horror I lived in, but they had to be the hottest people in the world. Even the woman had made me look twice and left me shoving a deeper desire I refuse to even consider right now. Knock, knock. "Parker?" It was the giant of a man's voice. Why couldn't they leave so I could be alone? "Go away." I heard sounds on the other side of the door that sounded like he'd sat on the floor. "Come out and talk to us." I pressed my forehead against my knee harder, trying to ignore the giant bearded intercourse god. "Or, just talk to me. We're worried about you." My chest seized as I forced myself to take a deep breath. Irrational anger surged inside of me. Why didn't they understand I didn't want them here? "You don't even know me." The sound of his deep chuckle sent a warm wave of desire through me. Stupid hormones. "Twenty-four hours ago, I would have agreed with you. After last night, I feel like I know you on a level most others never will." What did I do last night? I still couldn't remember what I'd done. I swore to myself I'd never drink again. "It was all lies." "Why are you trying to push us away? What would be so wrong with letting someone in to help for once?" Memories of my parents’ fighting came back to me. It was my tenth birthday. When my dad found out my mom bought a cake for my birthday, he'd attacked her. Everything was a blur until he'd pinned her against the wall. She held a knife to his crotch and threatened him. He'd left and never returned that day. My mind shut down, preventing me from thinking about it any longer. "Because I can't afford to pay you and no one does anything out of the kindness of their heart." I couldn't keep the sarcastic tone out of my voice as I said it. "Parker, you're missing a vital part of this dynamic." Silently, I chanted over and over for him to not use the word mates again. It couldn't be real. Paranormal romance novels weren't real... neither were shifters nor the perfect person walking into my life and devoting themselves to me. That was a fairytale, not reality. "Mates. Just to see a smile cross your lips, I'd clean this entire property. Throw in the others, and we'd do anything to see you happy." He tapped something on the door. "I can scent your annoyance through the door." "Wait a minute... you said all of you. That's not how mates work. Fated mates are two people, not an entire harem." I hissed as I shook my head. "This conversation is ridiculous because it's not real." Silence filled the space between us for several long seconds. "You really want us to leave?" My stomach twisted at his words. We just met, and yet he sounded devastated as he asked the question. I silently cursed myself for causing the change I heard. If I was a better person, I would say something else. "Yes." "Fine, we'll leave, but only on one condition. Buss each one of us. Then, if you feel nothing, we'll walk out of here without protest." I banged my head on my knee. That wouldn't work. They weren't even in the room with me and I already felt things. No way could I buss even one of them without having a reaction. "No." "Is that because you already know what I'm saying is true, or are you just being stubborn?" Before I could think about why he had said it, I jumped up and threw the door open to glare at him. "Are you always a jerk?" The confidence disappeared as I looked up into his eyes. He grabbed the doorknob and pulled it closed behind me, pushing me against him in the process. His gaze locked on mine as he lowered his head until we were almost bussing. "Never, but I'm not above riling you up to help give you the boost you need to confront a situation with confidence." Now that he was so close, I couldn't remember why I'd locked myself in the bathroom. Everything around us disappeared except the door his hard body pressed me against. His free hand caressed my cheek. "Can you genuinely tell me you don't feel the bond trying to form between us?" I clamped my jaw closed. If I didn't admit it out loud, then it wasn't real, but he was right. I could feel a... connection to him and the others. It didn't make sense, and I might not want it, but was most definitely there. His lips brushed against mine ever so slightly, sending a wave of fire through me. I gripped the straps of his black tactical vest to pull him closer, but he didn't budge. He chuckled as he moved from my lips to my ear. "Mate, if I buss you, I won't stop until you're mine. It might not be today or tomorrow, but I will claim you and make you mine." "And if I say we're not mates?" "Your mouth might lie, but your body and soul can't." I heard him inhale deep at my neck. "I can smell your need to claim me. It fills my senses until it's all I can think about. I've just found you and already you've consumed my entire world." It was bizarre, but I completely understood what he meant. Somewhere deep down inside of me, the idea of kicking out even one of them left me feeling raw. Six mates... and one of them was a woman. I'd known I was attracted to both genders from a young age, but I'd always locked that part of me away. My mom flipped at the idea of me dating a single man. I couldn't even fathom how hard she was rolling over in her grave at having six lovers. It was so much to process. "Come on, let's go back to the others." His voice pulled me back to reality. "Not yet." Suddenly, I didn't want to move. When I felt his body pull back, I gripped his vest tighter. My gut twisted as I decided to throw a lifetime of caution out the window. "buss me." He growled deep in his chest as his hands slid down my sides until he cupped my hips. A squeal of surprise escaped me as he lifted me up, then held me against his chest as he pressed me against the door. "You're mine... ours." Then his buss consumed me, mind, body, and soul. It felt as if our life forces bonded together. The mere thought of letting go of this man became too much. It was in that moment I realized I'd screwed up. I'd never be able to give him up, or the others, without ripping my own heart from my chest. I regretted so much in my life. What was one more? I sank my hands into his hair, gripping it at the roots, and tilted his head back. Our buss broke. A smug satisfaction slid through me when I realized he was breathing as hard as I was, but I wasn't done throwing out stupid rules my mother had forced on me. I pulled his head until I'd exposed his neck. The edge of a tribal tattoo peeked out under his shirt. I trailed the tip of my tongue along the dark lines, then bussed a trail along his neck. He moved until only one hand cupped my hips. His other hand caressed the back of my neck, urging me to do whatever I wanted to him. I tightened my legs around his waist, lifting myself higher as my busses moved along the edge of his beard. "That is hot." Another man's voice made it through my lusty fog. "Yeah, can't wait until it's my turn." Someone else said. I pulled back and realized my five other mates were watching us make out. All of them had a hunger in their eyes I'd never seen before...

Feanor's quarrel with Fingolfin remains my favourite scene in the entire Silmarillion, and it amazes me to find out that the idea of this quarrel existed since the very beginning of Tolkien's writing of this story in 1926 and it was not written down in detail until 1958. For 32 years he still had this scene in his mind unchanged. This commentary from Christopher explained it well:

In the latter part of the new version the story is greatly developed, and yet not in such a way as to contradict the earlier versions - which can be read as a synopsis of the latest. It may indeed be that the story of Feanor's fierce encounter with Fingolfin in the house of Finwe was present to my father's mind already when he wrote LQ, though he did not actually recount it till much later.

This got me thinking why did Tolkien wrote the Silmarillion in this way. We know that LOTR was written like any other novel, starting with a blank paper, but Tolkien never bothered to start afresh with the Silmarillion, he always revised it and almost never changed the base story started from the Sketch of the Mythology in 1926. It is as if this was real history or real mythology to him, he wasn't allowed to change course, only expand it. Here's the commentary from Christopher talking about when his father started to write the Later Quenta Phase 1 in 1951:

As with the Annals of Valinor (Aman), my father did not begin revision of the Quenta Silmarillion as a new venture on blank sheets, but took up again the original QS manuscript and the typescript derived from it and covered them with corrections and expansions.

And so here I want to take Feanor's encounter with Fingolfin in the house of Finwe as an example of Tolkien's method of expanding a story scene with each revisions for 32 years. Reading the early versions, you wouldn't think this scene will end up becoming so iconic in the final version.
Sketch of the Mythology (1926)

Morgoth lying tells Feanor that Fingolfin and his son Finnweg are plotting to usurp the leadership of the Gnomes from Feanor and his sons, and to gain the Silmarils. A quarrel breaks out between the sons of Finn. Feanor is summoned before the Gods, and the lies of Morgoth laid bare.

Quenta Noldorinwa (1930) and Quenta Silmarillion (1937)

Lying Morgoth said to him that Fingolfin and his sons were plotting to usurp the leadership of Feanor and his sons, and supplant them in the favour of their father and of the Gods. Of these words were quarrels born between the children of Finn, and of those quarrels came the end of the high days of Valinor and the evening of its ancient glory.

Later Quenta Phase 1 (1951)

Of these lies quarrels were born among the proud children of Finwe, and of these quarrels came the end of the high days of Valinor and the evening of its ancient glory; for Feanor spake words of rebellion against the Valar, crying aloud that he would depart from Valinor back to the world without, and deliver, as he said, the Gnomes from thraldom, if they would follow him. And when Fingolfin sought to restrain him Feanor drew his sword upon him. For the lies of Melkor, though he knew not clearly their source, had taken root in the pride of his heart.

Later Quenta Phase 2 (1958)

Thus with lies and evil whisperings and false counsel Melkor kindled the hearts of the Noldor to strife; and of their quarrels came at length the end of the high days of Valinor and the evening of its ancient glory. For Feanor now began openly to speak words of rebellion against the Valar, crying aloud that he would depart from Valinor back to the world without, and would deliver the Noldor from thraldom (as he said), if they would follow him.
Then there was great unrest in Tuna, and Finwe was troubled, and he summoned all his lords to council. But Fingolfin hastened to his halls and stood before him, saying: 'King and father, wilt thou not restrain the pride of our brother, Curufinwe, who is called the Spirit of Fire, all too truly? By what right does he speak for all our people, as were he king? Thou it was who long ago spoke before the Quendi, bidding them accept the guesting of the Mighty in Aman. Thou it was that led the Noldor upon the long road through the perilous Earth to the light of Eldanor. If this does not now repent thee, two sons at least thou hast to honour thy words!'
But even as he spoke, suddenly Feanor appeared, and he strode into the chamber tall and threatening. A fire of anger was in his eyes, and he was fully armed: his high helm upon his head, and at his side a mighty sword. 'So it is, even as I guessed,' he said: 'my half-brother would be before me with my father, in this as in all other matters. He would not wait for the council, where all words would be heard by all, and answered. He would speak against me in secret. This I will not brook!' he cried, turning upon Fingolfin. 'Get thee gone, and take thy due place!' Then as a flash of flame he drew his sword. 'Get thee gone and dare my wrath no longer!'
Then Fingolfin bowed before Finwe, and without word or glance at Feanor he went from the chamber. But Feanor followed him, and at the door of the king's house he stayed him. The point of his bright sword he set against Fingolfin's breast. 'See, half-brother!' he said. 'This is sharper than thy tongue. Try but once more to usurp my place and the love of my father, and maybe it will rid the Noldor of a would-be master of thralls.'
These words were heard by many, for the house of Finwe was in the great square beneath the Mindon, and many people were gathered there. But Fingolfin again made no answer, and passing through the throng in silence he went to seek Finarfin his brother.

Though I'm glad Christopher used this latest version for the published Silmarillion, it is still such a shame he had to cut down a lot of the details, Feanor was much more threatening here in LQ2 than in the published Silmarillion.
My question is though how and why Tolkien used this method to write the Silmarillion, and do you think it was the reason he couldn't completed it on time? I think it would have been more time efficient to just start it over, though I am not sure it would have been as epic as what we got in the published Silmarillion because perhaps we are more imaginative when we were younger, maybe that's why Tolkien still held on to those core ideas and scenes he came up with when he was in his 30s.

I really had no idea where to ask this but I figured a subreddit who would already understand the auDHD struggles would be a good start.
I'm just going to jump into this I guess? I have a hard time organizing my thoughts and I don't want this to be a super long post (it's going to be tho). I am at the end of my rope here and I don't know how to get help at this point.
Background info:

• I'm about to turn 27.
• I have autism (dx about 10 years ago now), I suspect co-morbid ADHD but haven't gotten assessed.
• I have CPTSD, and have had a lot of trauma.
• I live at home, and I'm still in the environment that traumatized me, and continue to be in a really tough spot with my family, who are extremely toxic, and struggling with their own mental health. They are not generally supportive and I can't lean on them for help. I have a step dad with (diagnosed) NPD, and I can't even explain my mom. It's daily fighting and screaming and threats of them breaking up (they're married) and us having to get rid of all of our things and pets. My step-dad is a real estate agent and was well off prior to coming into our lives but he's now in severe debt and the market is bad right now. When I tell you his bills are more than 15k a month I'm not exaggerating.
• I'm not new to the healing rodeo, and I've been through ~4 therapists. One was long term for about a year and a half. She was helpful but was new to her job and couldn't help me anymore at the point we parted ways.
• I am interested in starting somatic therapy/EMDR, and maybe DBT, but once again - lots of barriers to access.
• I've been on lots of medications, I am currently transitioning from Effexor (god awful) to Wellbutrin (jury's still out but I'm hella anxious atm as a side effect and can't sleep)
• I've been on a healing journey for 6 years now and I've done a lot of reading (books and online), practice mindfulness and meditation (on and off), understand the good effects of things like exercise and journaling. I just have no mental energy. I can never stick to anything, and I struggle to keep up with literally anything I need to do. My family thinks I'm defiant and lazy, and will not hear me out about who I am and why I'm like this.

I live at home, but home isn't a safe place. I need to move out, but I have no money, and I desperately need more. I have 3 jobs (two serving jobs, one WFH contract) but I'm barely making enough to live on right now, let alone save money. I am eternally exhausted (burnout? chronic fatigue? no idea), which makes it harder for me to work more. I have some other barriers to moving out as well that aren't financial.
My mental health is extremely poor, I was suicidal recently (okay at the moment). I have a family doctor but she is hard to access, and hasn't been much help anyways. Accessing another doctor, psychiatrist, therapist, anything, has been hard because of Ontario's increasingly shitty healthcare system and for money reasons. Between the CPTSD, and the autism it's hard to find the proper kind of help (basically, free or reduced-rate stuff usually aren't equipped to help me). Good luck getting a referral.
I'm in a spot where I just don't know what to do? I must have ruminated for thousands of hours over the years to figure out how I can get my life in order and I just.. I have no idea what to do. I need outside help but I can't afford it, and I can't work more because my brain is absolutely fried.
I have no degree. I'm an artist, I have a decent following on IG (nearing 40k now) and I wanted to be a tattoo artist for a long time. I have a ton of artists that I looked up to who are my buds now, but none are close (like different countries, or provinces). Getting into tattooing is tough, and it requires a lot of brain power to constantly draw flash designs, etc. I will ALWAYS be an artist, but drawing requires mental energy I do not have anymore. Like I genuinely feel like Kiki in Kiki's Delivery Service, when she lost her ability to fly. I cannot do it anymore. I do loose sketches every so often but that's it rn. I'm on a hiatus with my account at the moment, and I make some passive income from RedBubble sticker sales (~50-100 a month).
I love serving funnily enough, but god damn it burns me out, as you can all imagine. Right now I can barely handle working 3-4 days a week, and my shifts are short (like 2-4 hours). In Canada we make minimum wage AND tips, but the economy is bad and it's been so slow lately. I get called off often. In the past two weeks I've worked like 10 hours. Nowhere is hiring right now and it's just hard to get jobs in general. I recently took 2 MONTHS off work because I was legit delulu and feeling crazy and could not handle anything, and I rested plenty. No bueno still. My paychecks are pitiful and usually less than $100 lately. And like.. I bought a wrap today. It's my only meal of the day.. It cost almost $20. This is standard here. Even McDonald's would cost a family of four like $60 for a dinner. It's nuts.
My WFH job is a lifesaver (I train AI) but I cannot focus on it for more than 1-2 hours a day. It pays 20-24usd/h which is more like 27-30cad. I work when I want however much I want, but I have to be careful about completing tasks correctly or else I could risk losing the job (they have thousands of workers and I could get booted at any time with no warning). It is mentally taxing. I wish I could work 3-4h a day on it because I'd help out so much, but I physically feel unable.
None of my jobs have insurance for me.
My parents currently don't charge me rent, but I have $300 car insurance, and gas, and food. I struggle to grocery shop (the inflation in Canada is insane right now too) and so I eat out, but legitimately I eat once a day, which isn't healthy. I get cheap stuff, or eat at work. The adjustment period to the Wellbutrin rn makes me very not hungry as well. I have no debt anymore thankfully.
Rent here is ridiculous, and almost ALL of my friends live at home. My old best friend is a nurse and still lives with her mom. Same with another friend who is a highschool teacher. Basement apartment's are getting up to 2K a month. I don't even make enough money to rent with friends.
I HAD almost 10k saved up during covid but I had a year where I couldn't collect EI anymore and my family wouldn't let me work because I couldn't drive yet, so I drained all of it surviving for a year and paying bills.
I live up in an area in the countryside, and all my friends are ~1h or more away. My depression got so bad this year that I did isolate myself, and as a result I lost quite a few friends (longer story, don't want to write too much). I do have some close friends, but they cannot help me other than loving me.
My family is abusive and currently ignoring my entire existence, and I am lonely. All of the mental health struggles and the loneliness and the medications are making me feel so crazy, and I don't feel like I have any solid ground to walk on. I feel delusional half of the time, and I almost feel like I'm permanently dissociated, and depersonalized.
I also have 7 pet rabbits (long story again..) and I have like a thousand worries in regards to them, financially and moving out wise. Rehoming isn't an option (can elaborate if ya'll want). They are my babies. I have so much anxiety about any vet bills.
I see no way out of this. I'm so scared honestly - I can barely take care of myself, barely take care of my pets. I can barely work. My car's transmission went and so I drive my parent's "extra" smart car right now. They control when I use it and get upset if I drive too much. I'm surrounded by a family who is so chaotic and toxic and abusive, and relying on them is torture and brings me so much guilt. They hold it over my head. No matter how I communicate with them they do not hear me. I'm their scapegoat/black sheep. And yet they insist on (angrily) buying me a replacement car (used, obvi) and the guilt I feel is immense.
Like, does anyone have suggestions? What do I even do? The suicidal thoughts are essentially creeping up on me every so often because I'm suffering and I see no way out of this. I am of course wanting to get better and live my life, but it's all pain. It's been pain for years and years. I'm tired and broke and alone.
I know most of you can't help much. I just need a path forward. I wish I had a life coach that could walk me through the steps of accessing help, it's so hard on my own and I don't know what I'm doing. I feel like I know and understand all of the therapies, techniques, mindsets, tricks, etc that would be healing but every single one has some kind of barrier, mostly financial, or my physical/mental state.

I've always been inspired by intricate pen & paper linework (such as Junji Ito and Kentaro Miura) which, to me, beautifly mimics the style of masterful woodcut lithograph (such as MC Escher).
Has anyone had any experience with recreating this style in a digital format? A lot of the tutorials I've found rely on using filters, or the method (I can't remember the name) where you create big shapes and just fill them in with color, and neither of those methods achieve that intricate, detailed, and deliberate aesthetic that I would love to learn to do.
I personally use Photoshop Elements 15, but would also appreciate advice that can be applied to other software - as I'm not sure how much longer my code from 2017 will work lmao
I'm personally used to working either in a sketch style or a "cartoonist" style - where most of the lines are one deliberate stroke. I feel like the "woodcut" style is somewhere in between, but I just can't seem to bridge that gap in my head.
Additionally, I haven't done a lot of shading/highlights within my lineart itself, and typically rely on larger brushes to block in the shading and then carve away from that. From what I've seen, this "woodcut" style tends to rely on black & white lines spaced specifically to create different shades of grey.
How do yall handle this kind of endeavor? What does your workforce look like? Your layers? Brushes? Line weight? It's a style I've always wanted to learn and get better at, but don't really know where to start.
Any advice is appreciated 🙏🙏🙏
*Edit: if anyone is confused about my description of my normal style (sorry I'm mostly self-taught so I don't really know all the lingo) here's an example I drew about a year ago
https://www.imghippo.com/i/XTuyg1716259266.png
You can tell the lineart and shading are on separate layers, and I used a combination of a brush and eraser - different from the lineart brush - on a lowered opacity for the shading; while I do like the look of this, I would still love to learn to do that lovely intricate "woodcut" style I talked about above.
I just think there's something so compelling about it, and it's the primary thing I look at and go "this. this makes me want to be a better artist."

I know and do all the things and tricks. Dear god, I have all the visual prompts and reminders and systems in place, and even a LOVELY wife who reminds me of the things I need to do to survive. But like GOD. Why does it require SO MUCH.
Keeping this meat machine running is becoming a whole full time job. For context I have ADHD, ASD, Ehlers Danlos (Accompanied by bouts of Dysautonomia and POTS), and PMDD/PME meaning my PMS phase is EXTRA cooked turning me into a deep-fried werewolf half the month. Oh and i'm trans-nonbinary and have undergone top surgery and low dose testosterone....
So first off there's the BASICS OF LIFE eating breathing sleeping, homeostasis. WELL SOMETIMES MY BODY WONT DO IT AND I HAVE TO STEP IN.
Gotta feed myself every day multiple times a day. Sometimes body won't tell me i'm hungry until its too late. Repeated alarms get ignored /cause me misophonia and rage.
Gotta decide what to eat every time.
Gotta be mindful about getting good nutrition.
Gotta hope i haven't lost a safe food for some unknown reason wherein the sight smell idea and texture makes me suddenly go from pleasure to gagging.
Gotta have variety tho. Brain won't eat the same thing every day so there has to be a variety of "safe food" b/c ASD and "dopamine food" b/c ADHD available.
Gotta get groceries then too. But don't shop when you're hungry b/c thats how you blow the budget. It's worse on T b/c T makes me hungry as FUCK especially once we upped my dose( I'm actually going back down b/c this effect is UNBEARABLE. )
Gotta put water ON my body/clothes in the sun b/c I don't regulate my temperature.. I get cold when its less than 65' outside and overheat when its hotter than 78'.
Gotta wear and manage layers of clothing b/c of said inability to regulate temperature properly.
Gotta put water IN my body too but I don't know what thirst even feels like so i have to do it consciously or else I just....won't drink water. Which means....
Gotta keep enough water bottles of the RIGHT TYPE on hand b/c I just WONT drink out of a normal cup. I'll sip but to meet water need it's gotta be those chewy nip coleman bottles. don't ask me why maybe it's the mouthfeel ????
Gotta take drugs to regulate my HBP b/c i've got POTS. We actually suspect hyperadrenergic POTS b/c I respond well to Guanfacine and Clonidine and watesalt intake wasn't changing it.
Gotta take ALL MY MEDS EVERY DAY SAME TIME. Even with the autoreminder I miss it a lot especially if I flip it and forget to unflip it. or drop the batteries etc.
But if I take the POTS meds then the side effect is that if I forget the meds for even a DAY my body gets rebound effects which debilitate me worse than the POTS itself. So I stop taking the meds regularly and only take them as needed when I'm having more symptoms than usual.
Which is fine and dandy 2 weeks out of the month but the other 2 weeks .....fuck me.
Gotta batten down the hatches every month for werewolf week Because I have PMDD!! And I get POTS symptoms real bad during luteal phase b/c my body decides i'm a topsy tervy WEREWOLF???? and wants to crawl out of my skin. do all the drugs and bite my leg off/harm myself. So then i'm flippy, brain foggy, agitated anxious sensory overwhelmed and brutally insomniatic for 1-2 weeks EVERY MONTH.
Gotta remember tho take the gabapentin it really helps during wolf week. Whoop one more med to manage.
Gotta go to the pharmacy everywhenever. B/c of course they don't pill pack, or autoship and you take 2 controlled meds which must be picked up in person.
Now you might wonder....well why are you still having luteal phases if you're trans and on T? WELL B/C MY OVARIES JUST WONT QUIT. I'm in the male range for Testosterone even when I was at "low dose". My estrogen level is in the guttenearly undetectable but my body JUST KEEPS CYCLING. I even took nuvaring for 6 months no change. and I've tried two types of combo birth control and one makes me sex-repulsed/depressed and the other made me dysphoric and suidcidal. So now we're trying the POP. I don't think it'll work.... But its something to try. Also gotta take topical E for my hoo-ha b/c ....well I don't want atrophy. But that one seems to be treating me okay.
Gotta take my T shot every week and the topical finasteride every day. But T relieves my gender dysphoria significantly, reduces a lot of my PMDD SI/RAGE symptoms, and T is fantastic because it increases my muscle mass which reduced my joint slippage reducing pain? All good right?
Gotta see a derm b/c you're having a scarring alopecia flare up! But then that pesky scarring alopecia comes back. I had it before T, I actually had low T levels back then and i've been on finasteride my whole transition. It seems to run in my family. I've been symptom free for 7 years but something this year restarts the inflammatory process (probably surgery). Typical treatment is topical steroids and topical minoxidil. I have THREE cats. I will not kill my cats for my hair.
Gotta take the minoxidil now too. So they put me on oral minoxidil (and topical steroids). Which lowers my BP great but increases my HR not great. Now i'm constantly anxious about my HR my BP whether i'm fine or normal or having an episode or need to stop my treatment or restart it.
Gotta take more meds and see my GP. Great.
Gotta massage those top surgery scars every night. B/c mobility matters! Adhesions are bad. And the hEDS makes me scar like a weirdo. (hypertrophic and atrophic O.o) plus I want tattoos.
So lets assume i've managed the baseline physiological needs. Fed my body, watered my soul, sacrificed my cats to the three headed god of bendy elbows. Not having insomnia so bad the tech at your sleep study goes ....."is it always like this for you?".
Well then there's the psychological needs and problems.
Gotta take the ADHD meds or I literally won't get out of bed, will doomscroll for hours and watch my life fall apart.
Gotta take the SSRIs or else the crippling rumination, depression and obsessive body checking behaviors interrupt my life.
Gotta take Buspirone otherwise the SSRIS make me unable to orgasm and obliterates my sex drive. Thankfully my spouse's has also lowered these days due to her own meds so it's not causing conflict in the relationship like it used to. Sex is the only place in my life where I haven't experienced trauma and it's important to me personally as well for all the reasons.
Gotta work**.** Thats all i'll say there. b/c that is its own laundry list.
Gotta to do my accounting, pay bills etc.
Gotta do hygiene every single day 2x a day.
Gotta watch what I eat b/c i'm severely sensitive to gluten which limits eating out. So it's harder to do fun things with people/go out to eat with friends or order take-out.
Gotta remember to call/text my friends.
Gotta remember to call/text my father.
Gotta see all the fucking drs about all my fucking medical issues. Schedule and attend the appointments. Yes we hit our OOP MAX EVERY YEAR.
Gotta work out or else risk physical decompensation with increased joint subluxation or dislocations. And also for my MH/because I love acrobatics/aerials. I started decomping after surgery and the pain was atrocious and the injury cycle was beginning. I forgot just how fast the slipping happens.
Gotta attend to my loved ones. my wife and her needs, and my dog and my 3 cats.
Gotta clean the house, gotta wash the sheets, gotta treat the folliculitis infection I gave myself shaving, gotta tidy up after my hyperfixation projects and keep tidying my special interest projects.....
Gotta find/eliminate all the mold bombs regularly. b/c i'm horribly allergic to mold. So you know all the cups of coffee I didn't finish, hidden bowls of half eaten food lost under a shirt, or accidently left in on a bookshelf or in a bathroom, or orange peels dried too slowly or fruit in the fridge left a day too long....
Gotta get my blood drawn again for the 7th time this year.
Gotta schedule more medical tests.
Gotta let the ASD gods rule the weekend and worldbuild for 11 straight hours b/c I may be a sexless angelic demigod but hey at least I ENJOY my special interests again.
All this so that I don't fall apart. So I can get up, work, earn money, make friends, enjoy my special interests , care for myself and my wife and my cats and my dog , and hopefully live on past 30 without succumbing to either my demons or the inevitable progressive worsening of my physical disabilities.
Some days I just wanna be sedated.

tw - delusions, potential hallucinations
>! so as it is I’ve been all over the place lately (if my whole life is lately)
my emotionally abusive mother is making „home“ drain me so much, I can’t deal with the bs anymore, I’m too exhausted to self harm, trying to somewhat reduce my intake of alcohol as that was spiralling previously ahah etc etc
and now I’m really scared that I’m experiencing hallucinations in the past they’ve been so minor that they didn’t really matter, just flashing lights and people screaming my name
lately it’s been getting worse? shadowy figures out of the corners of my eyes, I „saw“ someone hanging in college, today someone who wasn’t there tapped on my shoulder and I can’t feeling blood on my fingertips (again not there)
I also had this weird episode thing today? I was just revising and then I spiralled suddenly… idek what it was but I didn’t realise how insane I seemed until I’d managed to calm down and thought back at how concerned my friends seemed. I was just spouting indecipherable nonsense, they couldn’t understand what I was saying and were worried about my „writing“ (image1) which at the time I was adamant made total sense - and then I almost had a panic attack because there were faces in the „words“ which I then had to draw out (image2)
looking back it reminded me of a drawing I made roughly a year ago (image3) - my mother had put a container of chocolate raisins in my lunch for school… at this time I was in a paranoid episode (?) and this led to a meltdown where I was convinced that she had poisoned me because there were „faces“ in them and I had to draw them out before eating them or else I’d die 💀
image4 is another sketch thing from in the middle of a paranoid episode during college haha
back to today - I managed to calm down as I left college to sit in a local green space - cried by the lake
I’m scared and so confused about what is happening in my head atm !<
any insights or words of comfort would be much appreciated 😭 <3

This is the final installment in the series about N.T. Wright's 'Into the heart of Romans'. Originally a collection, that feature has since been deprecated by Reddit, leaving this series as a bunch of separate, unorganized posts :-( I'll add a flair to each of them later to make them searchable (edit: flair added!)
What I've learned about myself: I am bad at finishing books. By the time you've read 80% or so, the main conclusions and revelations have usually been drawn, and I have a hard time pushing through and finishing the whole thing. This weekend I finally made time to finish writing this final part for this book, after beginning this series months ago. I apologize for the delay.
I am grateful to Wright for writing this book. It is a grandiose view of God's love, the work of the Messiah and the Spirit in and through us. It is really worth checking out!
Without further ado, the final chapter.

Romans 8:34-39 Nothing Can Separate Us From God’s Love

‘Romans 8 ends on a note of wonderful confidence’. Philosophers have always tried to find solid ground, how can we know? Decartes claimed ‘I think, therefore I am’ (cogito, ergu sum) and ‘much subsequent western thought has tried to build on that, with (to say the least) mixed success’. Bishop Leslie Newbigin even altered that statement some time ago into ‘tesco, ergo sum’: I shop, therefore I am!
But Paul says something different: Amor, ergo sum: I am loved, therefore I am. ‘The gospel urges upon us an epistemology of love’, not simply the feeling, but agape, the generous self-giving which affirms the reality of what is known and loved. When Paul says ‘I am persuaded’ in verse 38, he isn’t just summing up Romans 5-8 but he’s also looking at ancient intellectual life and philosophy, saying ‘this is where you can stand’.
This is the love of God the creator, anchored in Jesus. In this passage Paul lists grave threats and forces aligned against us, but ‘the gospel itself, the message about Jesus crucified, risen, ascended, interceding, holds us in place despite everything: God’s love in the Messiah, Jesus our Lord’.
This answers the first common question, about the beginning and the end of the section, we’ve answered in each chapter so far: it begins and ends with God’s love, in verses 35 and 39.
For the second question, we’d usually look at the small connecting words, but again Paul isn’t using careful argumentation here, but a rhetorical device: seven threats in 35, and larger powers in 38-39a. Paul invokes Psalm 44 when speaking of the threats, but then claims that ‘the one who loved us (37) will enable us to be not just victorious, but super-victorious (hypernikomen). Why (gar, 38)? Because no forces on earth or in heaven can separate us from that same love.
The third regular question: what about the wider world in which Paul’s hearers would receive this message? The ‘question of confidence’ is vital, today as it was back then. We know God will look after us after death and we can cling to Jesus when bad things happen, but there is something else going on here.
People in Paul’s culture (and today!) might interpret the bad things happening to Christians as a sign that God was angry with them. They assume that if you live your life in tune with God, you wouldn’t have any problems. But if there are problems such as persecution, ‘the people or indeed the whole movement had obviously gone off the rails.’ Wright here devotes a few paragraphs to criticizing the western world, as pandemics and wars disrupt what seemed to be a success story but made victims along the way. ‘How should we look out upon a world in a mess?’ That question must have occupied the minds of Roman thinkers as well, as the empire’s rhetoric of peace and prosperity sounded hollow, especially to Jews at times of anti-Jewish riots or for instance when Caligula tried putting a statue of himself in the Jerusalem temple. Jews read Daniel’s prophecy about the 490 years and they too expected God to step in when the situation became very bad or dangerous. ‘For all these reasons, the two lists of dangers and hostile forces would represent real and present threats to Paul’s hearers’.
Paul had been questioned about this before. In Corinth, some wondered whether God would allow a proper apostle to lead such a bizarre life as Paul had, including persecutions and dangers. In 2 Corinthians, Paul turns that argument on its head in a ‘glorious, ironic rebuttal’: all the bad things that happen to Paul, he insists, are actually ‘the defining marks of genuine apostleship’. Romans was written not long after 2 Corinthians and Paul may have thought about vulnerable Christian groups in Rome, too. For instance, the gentile believers in Rome might regard the Jews, who were expelled under Claudius, as ‘obviously under divine displeasure’, which could lead to these gentile believers becoming ‘Job’s comforters’ to these Jewish Christians when they returned under Nero.
Wright ‘suspects’ that Paul isn’t just talking about ‘assurance of final salvation’ here but also about ‘penultimate assurance’, which his part of the doctrine of justification. This assurance is what we as Christians ought to give to one another: ‘we are to see one another’s misfortunes and sorrows, not as signs of God’s displeasure, […] but rather as part of the calling to share in the messianic woes, in wich – as in verses 26 and 27 – the spirit is calling out to the father from the heart of the pain and perplexity’.
Christians still make mistakes, some still step off ‘the steep ladder of vocation and settled for a gentler climb’. Compromised Christians or a worldly church no longer challenge their wider community. But those who refuse to slide into the world’s ways of thinking may well face real trouble. Paul makes that point in verse 36, where he cites Psalm 44. In that psalm, the psalmist celebrates God’s promises, but complains that they have not been coming true, even though they have kept the covenant. They have remained faithful, and yet this is happening. The psalmist concludes: it must be because of you, it is ‘for your sake’ (Ps 44:22). He knows God is in charge, but there must be ‘stranger, darker and deeper things going on in the world than one would see on the surface’. There were earlier allusions to Ps 44 (Rom 8:27 echoing Ps 44:21) and now Paul points to the next verse, Ps 44:22 to express the belief that the ‘severe troubles of God’s people are somehow for God’s sake’. As seen in 17-30 already, ‘the point seems to be that those facing severe troubles are somehow sharing in the Messiah’s present redemptive sufferings’, a point on which Wright will later elaborate.
Paul isn’t simply saying ‘everything is going to be all right, nothing else really matters’. He is saying that in a way, but he is doing so in a world that saw misfortune as a sign of divine misfortune. No, this is part of our vocation, our calling to bear in the spirit the pain of the world. This is part of our salvific ministry in and for the world. ‘Paul is, as it were, applying the unique fact of Jesus’ crucifixion to the present sufferings of Jesus’ people as they stand in prayer, as in verses 26 and 27, at the heart of the suffering world’. Our sharing in the messianic woes makes us part of the way in which Jesus’ victorious death is applied to the world (Colossians 1:24). ‘With the spirit groaning within us, we are called to share in God’s rescue plan for the whole world’.
Let’s remind ourselves how the last five verses work. There aren’t many connecting words. The troubles mentioned, just like the cross of Christ, aren’t unpleasant or ghastly things we have (or Christ had) to endure, but actually the setting for the greater victory, in which ‘all opposition is not just defeated but swept off the board’. Twice Paul uses alla, but, to make this point, in verses 36 and 37. In 38, we then get a gar which explains this seemingly counter-intuitive super-victory, which is based on the ‘unbreakable love of God himself, of which Paul has become utterly persuaded’. This love is the framework for these verses, opening with the Messiah’s love in 35 and ending in 39 with ‘the love of God in the Messiah Jesus our Lord’. Verse 37 too mentions love, as a halfway stepping stone. And with this, this major portion of Romans (5-8) returns to where it began, in Romans 5, where God’s love is displayed in action in the death of Jesus, and is being poured out in our hearts by the spirit. Paul has now, at last, worked his way back to that ‘great statement’.
Paul offers two lists here, as part of his heightened rhetoric: 7 bad things that might happen to you in verse 35, and ten power structures that might be arranged against you in 38-39. Seven plus ten, in ancient rhetoric, indicates a kind of completeness: ‘anything and everything the world, the flesh and the devil might throw at you.’ 31-39 draw together ‘the whole scripture, all human experience, the whole hostile world, and the whole victorious gospel’. Nothing can sepate us, those in the Messiah, from the love of God. And for the first time since Rom 5:6-10, Paul makes clear that it is all about that love.
Wright thinks we don’t ‘sufficiently ponder’ what that means. We know about Gods love, but to we really understand it? Wright proposes to ‘rattle the cage a bit’. First, many Romans believed Rome had a secret name, its Latin name spelled backwards: Amor, Latin for Love. Romans believed they descended from Aeneas, the son of the love goddess Venus. It’s ‘quite possible’ that Paul here is reclaiming love (agape), as ‘the deepest truth of the creator God’ instead of as a secret name of a pagan city. This matches with the other ‘subversive’ way in which Paul appropriates Roman imperial language for the Gospel, such as ‘gospel’ and ‘Lord’ (kyrios), words Rome used for its own rulers and messages of imperial benevolence and peace. Paul reclaims those words and applies them to Jesus as the true ‘Son of God’ and lord of the whole world, bringing true justice and peace. ‘No wonder the rulers and authorities of Paul’s day struck back in every way they could’ and that is the context for the final passage. Second, in verses 35 and 37 Paul speaks of the Messiah’s love, the love of Christ. That is actually quite rare. Wright lists a few examples in 2 Cor 5, Gal 2, Eph 3 and 5, but that’s about it. Paul speaks often of the love of God ‘that sent the son to die’. And when Paul speaks of grace, he speaks of ‘the grace of Lord Jesus’, not of the Messiah. So why, here, the Messiah’s love? In scripture or extrabiblical sources, there ‘is nothing to suggest that if and when a Messiah turned up he would act out of love. Ruling, bringing justice, defeating enemies, but not love. So where does it come from, here at the heart of the passage and the rhetorical climax of the letter so far?
The answer must be ‘the great Biblical theme of the love of YHWH himself, Israels God’. And the idea of the Messiah’s love must mean that the Messiah is the personal embodiment of Israel’s God. God loves his people (as we see in scripture, Wright cites examples) and the Messiah ‘clothes that love in human flesh and blood’.
And to speak of God’s love is to speak of the covenant, God’s unbreakable loyalty to his people and covenant renewal through the Messiah. Now, European philosophers since Hegel have thought in terms of progress through either evolution or revolution. It can’t be both, and theologians have likewise said that Paul’s theology can’t be both ‘covenantal’ (evolutionary) and ‘apocalyptic’ (revolutionary). These categories have joined ‘forensic’ which has been used to analyse Paul, which means ‘belonging in a law court’. But, in Romans 8 we have ‘in the same breath, the covenant with Israel, now focused on the Messiah, and at the same time we have the sudden inbreaking of God’s powerful rescuing love in the new messianic exodus’. ‘Apocalyptic’ and ‘covenant faithfulness’ fit together in ancient Israelite and Jewish thought. Paul has also spoken of the unveiling (apokalypsis) to the world of the justice of God. All this explains, says Wright, why he sometimes translates the key term dikaoisyne not as ‘righteousness’ (which has its own modern theological misleading connotations) but as ‘covenant justice’, which draws together the covenantal and forensic categories together, in line with the Hebrew tsedaqah which in the Septuagint is often translated with dikaiosyne. We have to stop applying post-Enlightenment, modern categories; we shouldn’t give 19^th century answers to 16^th century questions, but 21^st century answers to 1^st century questions. We have to think like ‘first-century, Bible-soaked, Messiah-focused Jews’. That’s the only way to learn to understand our own world.
This agape love of which Paul speaks, what is that exactly? Not some special sort of Christian love; the Septuagint uses it for God’s love for his people as well as for destructive lust. The early Christian use of agape picks up on the theme of the Hebrew hesed (mercy, loving kindness, generosity) rather than a linguistic phenomenon. Both Paul and John use it to indicate the ‘biblical theme’ of divine love and God’s faithfulness to his covenant and its purposes, now fulfilled in Jesus. But, again, Jewish and Biblical thought never links this to the Messiah. There are three other (converging) answers as to why Paul speaks of the Messiah’s love. **First, ‘**early Christian throught began with reflection on the resurrection of the crucified Jesus’. This had to be the revelation-in-action of the long promised divine love, if it was the new exodus: God the Creator had at last remembered his long promised mercy. God had promised to reconcile the world to himself in reconciling love, and this had happened through the Messiah. God’s plan for himself and the Messiah converged in a way that was not apparent from contemporary Jewish readings of Scripture, but it became obvious in the light of Jesus. Wright connects this to the hesed Adonai, the loving kindness of YHWH himself. Second, Jesus’ first followers did not separate his resurrection from their memory of him before his death. Jesus displayed a ‘sovereign kindness in so much of what he did’, his closest followers knew him, and they spoke of his crucifixion itself as the supreme act of love. (John 13:1). Third, ‘the church’s present awareness of the person of Jesus himself’. ‘That strange presence’, always loving, promised and experienced in the sacraments for instance. ‘The Jesus who was experienced as a man of love before his crucifixion was known personally as the loving Lord in the intimate prayerful life of his followers’. ‘Memory and experience dovetail with the scriptural promises of YHWH’s rescuing love’, resulting in this remarkable theme, written less than 25 years after the crucifixion (!). This is, then ‘a radical innovation in Jewish messianic thinking’, as Jesus’ first followers came to see him as the human embodiment of Israels God. This passage is designed to give comfort and assurance, but underneath is a revolutionary theology of incarnation. Coupled with what has been said in Rom 8 about the spirit (pneumatology), this is ‘one of the greatest expositions of Trinitarian thought from any point of Christian history’. Not in the shape of cold theory, but in the shape of gratitude, allegiance, faith, hope and answering love.
At last, we can now walk through these verses and see how they work.
In 35b, Paul lists ‘the physical dangers and threats he himself had met’ or expected to meet, and his hearers might encounter soon as well. In the Greek, the list has an ‘audible punch’ which is not easy to pick up in English.
·Suffering and hardship: physical pain and cultural challenges such as loss of home or job.
· Persecution: Paul had experienced it and he could see it coming for the community in Rome.
· Famine: uncommon for us westerners, but a regular occurrence in those days.
· Nakedness: could happen after a shipwreck or at a public beating.
· The sword, machaira, a short sword used for executions, not in battle.
In Paul’s days, many would have said that if these things happen to you, the gods must be angry with you, you must have done something wrong. But in vs 36, Paul cites Ps 44 to ward of any suggestion that divine displeasure is causing these things. In Ps 44, the psalmist says that ‘all these things have come upon us, but we have not played you false or denied the covenant’. We suffer ‘because of you’ says the psalmist and Paul echoes that, we suffer ‘on your account’ (heneken sou), because of you we are sheep destined for slaughter. These sufferings are not signs of heaven-sent anger, but but ‘actually the outworking of the purpose which was sketched in 8:18-27’. What’s more, this verse closely echoes the Isaianic language for the suffering Servant, in Is. 53:7. That means these sufferings can be seen as ‘Messianic afflictions’, not just some nasty things to get through. They are to be embraced as part of the ‘redemptive vocations’. ‘This is where the wounds of Jesus meet the wounds of the world’. We are ‘reckoned’ sheep for the slaughter, just as the Messiah, when we are baptized and justified in him.
BUT… verse 37 begins with alla, ‘but’. Don’t let all these things ‘dominate your horizon’, because ‘in all these things we are super-conquerors, hypernikomen’. The enemy has been completely wiped out. Through our participation in the messianic sufferings, the ‘pain and the anger of the world may itself be exhausted and overcome’, through the supreme act of love of the Messiah and our participation in those sufferings, when we go ‘prayerfully to the dark places, to bring God’s light and healing right there’.
The reason for this ‘extraordinary analysis’ is given with the gar of verse 38, pepeismai gar. Paul is persuaded, he ‘has done the math’. He has listed 7 dangers and 10 powers that could attack us, ‘and he declares that none of them can come between the believer and the lof of God in Messiah Jesus’. The list of ten dangers is mostly arranged in pairs. We can read this list as ‘north, south, east, west’: Paul is covering the bases, it includes our possible states (life and death), the past and our (uncertain) future, powers in heaven and on earth, and anything in the cosmos. All of this is created, they are all creatures, ‘part of the world made by God, whereas the gospel is about the incarnate love of the creator himself’. These creatures, taken over by powers darker than themselves might indeed try separate us from the divine and messianic love, that is part of the ‘groaning of creation’, the out-of-jointness of God’s good creation. That creation will be rescued from its slavery to decay (8:19-25), that is the ultimate answer to that problem, and therefore also to any intermediate problems that might arise from the ‘creatures’ as they still are. Paul has lived experience with these powers, but he knows they will fail to separate us from the love of God.
Our human love experiences separation regularly (travel, work, death), but this love gives assurance of eternal unbreakability. Hard to imagine, but that is what the gospel provides. And with Paul, we need to be persuaded of all of this, ‘because of the resurrection of the crucified son of God’. It doesn’t all depend on the cross like some think, either because of a theological liberalism or because their specific atonement theory doesn’t really seem to need the resurrection. But the resurrection is the victory, where the creator God declared that the crucified and risen was indeed really his son, Israels Messiah and the world’s lord.
That’s after all where Romans began, from 1.3-5. Wright briefly recaps Romans from 1-5 and then 5-8. In the end, 8 ‘comes back full circle’ to the introduction in 5:1-11: ‘justification leads to glory, marking out the path of suffering and hope, sustained by the spirit-given love of God’, ‘this in itself is rooted in God’s action of utter self-giving love in the Messiah’. ‘That is where this first half or Romans now concludes’.
The victorious covenant love of God isn’t some fuzzy generalized sense of the transcendent or something like that. It’s not some conviction you have to talk yourself into. No, his conviction, persuasion and assurance all follow from the central ‘good news’ event of Easter. ‘If God really did raise Jesus the Messiah from the dead… then everything follows’. Wright here repeats an anecdote he often shared as a speaker, about a London cabbie who saw Wright was a bishop, and said to him: ‘What I always say, is if God raised Jesus Christ from the dead, then everything else is just rock ‘n roll, innit?’ ‘That is Paul’s doctrine of assurance in a nutshell. Nothing else in all creation can separate us from God’s love in the Messiah, Jesus our Lord’.

It finally works when I do this exercise. The voices in my head stops and my traumas slowly heal. However, I still need to practice, practice, practice. I'm so thankful that my Wonderwoman (my therapist) gave me a kick in my ass and hugged me in the right direction. I've been training with her since March 2023 and finally got it.
Here’s my template how it works:

Radical Acceptance and Forgiveness

**Preparation:**

• Find a quiet place.
  
• Take deep breaths.
  

**Step 1: Radical Acceptance**

• Recognise your feelings as real in the present moment, allow them to pass through you without judgment.
  
• Objectively describe the situation.
  

**Step 2: Practicing Forgiveness**

• Think of someone who has hurt you and say, "I forgive you. I release the grudge, hate, and despair."
  
• Think of something you want to forgive yourself for and say, "I forgive myself. I release the guilt."
  

**Step 3: Integration**

• Visualize a weight lifting from your shoulders and feel the relief.

**Step 4: Conclusion**

• Be grateful for your willingness to accept and forgive.
  
• Breathe deeply and return to the present moment.
  

**After the Exercise:**

• Explain to the young boy inside you in simple language what happened.
  
• Regularly practice the exercise.
  

Here’s an example from tonight, when my brother unintentionally triggered me by sending a sketch of our old house (I still sometimes have nightmares about it).
You don’t understand, Mother. And you will die without understanding anything. I forgive you for everything and let go of the hate, anger, and disappointment. My body relaxes and is filled with peace. I feel very tired in my shoulders. That’s good. A lot of work has been done and I release these feelings. Now I feel tired and calm. Everything is now fine.
Then I explained to the boy that forgiveness will make the light of his magic wand shine brighter, and we will become invisible to the Black Woman and her legion, and they can no longer hurt us.
Hopefully this helps someone.

I have a pretty interesting story about my family's history concerning Block Island, RI.
So, I'm a direct descendant of "Long Kate" who is a 17th century woman from Germany who was aboard the Princess Augusta (The Palatine). This ship sailed from Rotterdam in 1738. There was trouble. We don't know exactly what made the ship crash and catch on fire. We know the names of two survivors. One was Short Kate and one was called Long Kate. They went by other names and variations of Kate or Kattern. Here is a link proving this from the history of block island: https://ia802805.us.archive.org/29/items/historyofblockis00live/historyofblockis00live.pdf
Kate married a black slave whose name was Newport Sands. That black slave is my 8th great grandfather and Kate is my 8th great grandmother. This is one of the few cases of interracial marriage with a black slave and a white woman. This is also one of those times where you have black children that were both from that marriage who were all listed as slaves. Such as my 7th great grandfather whose name was Benjamin "Benajah" Sands.
Here is a short video I sent to the Block Island Historical Society because much of what is known about the "Palatine Light" and Long Kate comes directly from the descendants of Long Kate (my family): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ubcm64ofqjM
That video link above has my family's lineage from the Ancestry site. I had to pay for a DNA test along with 16 other family members. We connected with the other side, the slave owning side, and they helped corroborate a lot of this stuff.
I've attached pictures that I used in a video I made about this entire story. One of the pictures is a painting that shows Violet Ann Sands Hazard whose portrait is a famous piece located in a museum. It's one of the first painting depictions of a mulatto black woman.
The Sands Family through Nathaniel Littlefield (descendant of Captain William Littlefield) owned my 8th Great Grandfather, Newport Sands. The Sands, Jefferson and Stillwell families were prolific slave owners. I found wills and documentation that shows that Sarah Sands became one of the first slave abolitionists in American history. Here is a copy of her will and I want you to read through it because the names of the slaves mentioned are my relatives: http://files.usgwarchives.net/ri/washingt/history/sands3.txt#:~:text=Sands%2C%20conscious%20of%20her%20approaching,and%20all%20of%20whom%2C%20with
James Sands was the head of the Sands Family. When he died, Sarah Sands took a good bit of what he left behind. She gave two black women as slaves to a man named Samuel Niles. She is credited as being an abolitionist but she wasn't really. The history books lied about that and my family has that passed down for generations now. She didn't "free" us as much as she set time limits on how long we could be enslaved. For example, the two slave women she gave to Samuel Niles were to be freed at age 30 which means they'd be enslaved but she felt it was a nicer way to go about it. She banned the practice of child slavery in the Sands family and you can read that in her will.
"The Witch of Block Island" is Kattern. She was outraged that the Block Island residents would dare enslave her children. The story we have passed down is that she was very upset with the residents for not stopping her "Benajah" (her broken English pronouncing Benjamin") from being enslaved. So, it is written in the History of Block Island and A Historical Sketch of Block Island (both documents from the 1800s) that Kattern terrorized the citizens and was a witch.
You can read about Kattern and her witchcraft in the history of Block Island. Here is a link: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1cFhkjpuJLBgvDoNlQWf5O9ng3OS5V-kM/view?usp=drivesdk
Here is a quote from the History of Block Island (1877):
"Although eighty-eight years old, Mr. Sprague does not seem to have any disease preying upon his constitution, and he talks of the scenes of his childhood and youth as though they were present, visible realities. He says he heard his parents say much about " Dutch Kattern," as she was called, and that it was well understood by them that she came from the ship Palatine. He well knew Kattern 's daughter Cradle, a mulatto, as Kattern married a negro, soon after she came upon the Island. Mr. Sprague, by remembering the character commonly ascribed to " Dutch Kattern," enables us to gain some insight into the character of the traditions of the Palatine. He says she reported that the crew starved the passengers to get their money. He says she was a noted fortune-teller; that she would hide away behind a wall, or in a thicket of bushes, and there lie in a trance for hours. On returning to the house much exhausted, and being asked where she had been, she would reply that she had been home across the sea, to Holland, and then would give an account of the condition of her kindred there as she had just seen them. She lived on the Neck, and was believed to be a witch. The Islanders were afraid of her."
My family always knew who The Witch of Block Island was. Kattern was pissed off. The reason why she scared and terrorized the residents was that the residents not only treated her like an outsider but also mistreated the love of her life and her children. Block Island was the very definition of a sundown town. For the longest time, any black or native slave who was caught out after 9 PM would be whipped with 10 lashes with their shirt off. That was specifically stipulated in the law. We know because one of the slaves mentioned in the will of Sarah Sands, Mingo Sands, was whipped and we know because that's one of my relatives and the story was passed down.
I've attached a picture that explains the law in detail.
I figured I would share this. I don't live in Rhode Island but so much of my family's history is tied to Rhode Island. I think I also solved your ghost ship story. People still say they see the Palatine. If you read the history of block island you'll notice that it is mentioned that Kattern supposedly had magical powers and could make the ghost ship appear at will. The story passed down from my family is that the reason why she did it was because it was a culture shock to see her children be forced to work and her husband be mistreated. That's why she held that grudge and targeted everyone on that island despite them taking her in after the Princess Augusta (Palatine) wreck.

While this may not be the typical horror story of this sub I thought I would share anyway; I don't think any other community would understand or appreciate the sheer psychic damage I took during this experience, nor comprehend the depths of baffling decisions made. This is a tale about the one, and only, time I agreed to DM an event for my colleges TTRPG Club, which went so poorly from an organization perspective that I swore off anything involving them again.
First some context; I was not a member of their Club and had no interest in doing so. Firstly I just wasn't interested in getting involved in more TTRPG's at that stage of my life, and also their style of play and DMing just didn't gel with mine from what I heard. (From what I gather it was just the norm for most similar clubs; ban lists a mile long, strict times for sessions, official content only for PC's and DM's, minimal interaction with PC backstory, strict attendance per table, etc.) I don't mention this to bash on them for those rules, I imagine most were born from logistics and from all accounts the players at those tables loved the sessions, it just wasn't my cup of tea and thus I never interacted much with their tables till this story.
While not a member of their club I was instead a member of another club. Our club was invited by the TTRPG club to partake in a crossover event, effectively they wanted to just DM a one shot themed around our club. We agreed and when the numbers started coming in the TTRPG Club realized they'd need extra hands in order to maintain their preferred player to DM ratio they asked for some help. Apparently my name came up as someone who could do it and when asked I agreed to do so.
Immediately from the word go things went a bit awkward. For some reason the guy in charge and who invited me to DM (we'll just call them Sam for this post) decided that immediately after I accepted it was important to inform me it was an in person event because "only morons play online, its the shittest way to play." They continued to just generally insult online, as well as other ways of play, before I interjected and shared that I had been running an online game very successfully for the past two years. After an awkward beat the conversation then shifted to sharing different stories of our DMing and playing, as well as answering questions that a friend of mine who was a newbie had. Or well to be more specific, she'd ask a question and then Sam would turn to me to answer it. This came across as just bizarre as it sounds, and seemed the norm for Sam upon seeing them more often over the coming days; when interacted with by any woman Sam would instead turn to address a man in the room with his response.
Later that day I was added to a gc to organize the event and discovered it was planned to be Game of Thrones Themed! (This being back when the show was huge and everyone was awaiting the final season eagerly.) Immediately I asked what system they were using, sharing that I had been lucky enough to find in a copy of the ASOIF TTRPG core rules! I was then, and still am, yet to use the system but was happy to start pouring over it and sharing as needed to run it. I was then informed that actually as a rule the TTRPG Club exclusively used 5e systems for play, and as such this would be a 5e port. I was surprised to hear this recalling the numerous stories I heard of their sessions, but asking those who were members for more info was shocked to discover that all those sessions of "paranoia," "shadowrun" and other systems were just 5e ports! Apparently the TTRPG Club were exclusively DnD, in fact their DMs apparently had never once played or ran non 5e systems!
Still reeling from this we were then informed that each PC was going to pick a house in addition to their background, and be given associated benefits. (Note: they were not from the house or related to them in anyway mind you, the idea was just that they gained these benefits from living on their land for a while.) Those from House Targaryen were all immune to fire damage, Stark's were made into werewolf's with the added effects from the MM, Lannisters started with an extra 50 gp, etc. It was here that we also learned that those in charge, including Sam, had never actually watched the show and were unwilling to receive any feedback from the "Temps."
We then come to the next day, where the players were to be sorted in groups for each DM to take during an in person meeting. Now I am usually told by others that supposedly I have some sort of skill on picking up on unspoken social cues; I however do not believe any such skill was required to pick up the following bizarre ritual. First each table was gender segregated as much as possible; women only on some tables, men only on others, minimal overlap. No one would have any strong opinion as to what group they would take, that was until Sam would suggest that they take one of the female only groups at which stage one of their regular DMs would instantly step in and proclaim that they suddenly got invested in DMing that specific group. This continued like some fucked up game for the entire meeting until only the groups that were male only were left. I never asked, nor do I think would want to know, why this little ritual existed.
It was here though that we were finally given the biggest logistical nightmare itself, the one shot itself! Supposedly the details were voted on by all their regular DM's and shared the same day as the session. It was only two pages long; one for statblocks and the other for the actual one-shot adventure information. I will briefly summarize this now now:

1. The party is wandering Westeros when they are suddenly attacked by a troop of Wildlings. When these Wildlings lose half their numbers the Wildlings will give out to the party for being reckless in the wasteland and how they need to work together.
   
2. The party will travel with the Wildlings and arrive at their camp. Most of the sheet was details of the magic items that could be bought.
   
3. The party heads from the camp with their dragon glass to kill the local whitewalker.
   

That was it.
In its entirety.
To reiterate; the Wildlings attacking were meant to be the same ones offering surrender once they were losing, the adventure hinged upon them being taken to their camp willingly, and finally the dragon glass was not for sale at their camp nor was there any mention of it or of a Whitewalker till they went to kill it. As well as all that this sheet was covered in basic grammar and spelling errors, as well as other questionable rules. In order to fix this and make it actually usable I immediately got on to two other DMs I was friends with to try and bang this outline out into something useable; this was somewhat complicated however as one had to call over the phone and couldn't hear properly over my other friend laughing manically upon reading the original sheet. Eventually though we managed to bang out a new statblock, as well as streamline the adventure to meet the same plot points but have a more coherent series of events.
We then got to the session itself which went rather perfectly actually. The changes worked and the players all had a great time overall, greatly enjoying the session. It was overall a huge success, Sam however was not happy upon hearing about some of these changes and after the session seemed irate that anyone would dare change a word they had written. I still think the changes were all for the better however, and simply declined any future invites to join the club for the remainder of my college experience.

So my last post asking why Indians don't read Indian books anymore had me surprised with the number of people genuinely interested to know more about Malayalam literature. A lot of them asked me for recommendations, so I thought I'd make a post. Now this won't be just a simple list of books to read. The reading list at kerala is probably better for a complete list of Malayalam books to read than a random internet post, but I hope with my post you will understand and appreciate Malayalam literature and Kerala better.
Malayalam evolved from Tamil. It branched off from Tamil in those parts of Tamilakam (a collective name given to the ancient Tamil kingdoms) which were most influenced by Sanskrit. The earliest literature that is distinctly Malayalam are from the 1100s, but the true beginning of Modern Malayalam starts from the 15th century with Thunchathu Ramanujan Ezhuthachan, master poet and father of Malayalam. Now Ezhuthachan (whose name literally means 'teacher of writing') was a lower caste Ezhava man who dared to study the Vedas and even began to write and teach others to write in an age where literacy was gatekept by Brahmins. His seminal work is the Adhyathma Ramayana, a retelling of the Ramayana from the lens of the Advaita or nondual philosophy. Here is an excerpt from the same work, translated by me. This verse is an opening verse where Ezhuthachan asks Brahmins for permission to retell the Ramayana. Sounds very serious and solemn, yes? Now watch Ezhuthachan mock the hell out of the entire class system of medieval Kerala.
For who can speak of the greatness of that lofty creed, owners of the earth, commanders of the Vedas, whose ceaseless boons and curses, drive even Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva to their wit's end. But pray, may I, born out of the feet of Brahma, number one among the unknowledgeable dare tell Rama's tale for the unconscious ones.
By the 1800s Malayalam literature had modernized very much. It was the first Indian language to start translating the works of Shakespeare, Milton etc. and the 19th century brought with it a fascination for Russian literature in Kerala that still has not ceased. Most big Malayalam bookstores have whole sections devoted to Russian literature translated from the original to Malayalam.
We get our first Malayalam novel in 1889 with O. Chandu Menon's Indulekha. Indulekha is about a young Nair lady of the same name, well educated in English and Sanskrit, in love with Madhavan, a western educated young man torn between modern culture and the culture he grew up in. Later, modernity and the past clash again when old Brahmin men try to marry Indulekha according to the old system. A saddened Madhavan runs away to Bengal in haste, leaving Indulekha to make her decision. The novel shows Indulekha as a modern, unwavering woman, willing to challenge her patriarchs, and shows how the society of Kerala had changed by the 1880s, when the decision of a woman could no longer be overruled. Must read for fans of Victorian fiction like those of Jane Austen, or even PG Wodehouse. (Spoilers - Madhavan realizes his mistake and returns for Indulekha.)
CV Raman Pillai's Marthanda Varma is another behemoth from the 1800s. Based on the life of the 18th century king Marthanda Varma, known as the maker of modern Travancore. Marthanda Varma was born in the royal family of Venad in a Travancore where the ruling family had lost all power to a group of eight Nair families known as the Ettuveettil Pillamar or the Pillas of the Eight Houses. The treasury of the kingdom was almost zero and real power and wealth were in the hands of the Pillas who had even started charging taxes and tarrifs. What follows is a brutal and bloody game between Marthanda Varma, a young prince who just won't give in, and the Eight Houses conspiring to kill him, told from the point of view of a love story involving a chivalric knight and an upper class girl. I've always noticed how Indian books and movies like portraying historical figures like superhuman gods perfect in every way. This book is for those who want to see the real nastiness of history. I recommend Marthanda Varma to fans of books like Shogun or even Game of Thrones.
With the 20th century we have writers like Thakazhi, a towering figure in Indian literature, whose Randidangazhi tells the story of a peasant uprising against landowners during the formative years of modern Kerala. Set in the paddy fields of Kerala, it shows how the poor, after having lived in a state of blissful ignorance starts to slowly come out of their coccoon and realise the horror of their slaving lives. Randidangazhi is a glimpse to how Marxism and Socialism began to get imported to Kerala and how it influenced the culture of Kerala. The less critically acclaimed but more popular novel of Thakazhi, is Chemmeen or Prawn, later made into one of the most succesful Malayalam movies ever. Chemmeen is set in the fishing landscape of Kerala in the shores of the Arabian sea, where fishermen believe that if a woman cheats on her husband while he is at sea, the Sea-Mother would swallow her up. Presented in this socio-cultural context is the story of Parikutty, a muslim fisherman in love with Karuthamma, the daughter of a Hindu fisherman. Their story is a more realistic and tragic version of Romeo and Juliet, with Karuthamma having to marry another man. But her love for Parikutty never dies, and they end up dead in the shores of the ocean.
Vaikom Muhammad Basheer - probably my favourite Malayalam writer. Basheer was a well educated Muslim man who grew up in the rural Muslim dominated areas of Kerala. He wrote in simple colloquial Malayalam and was looked down upon by the literary giants of his day, but today he’s seen as one of the masters of Malayalam fiction. He was once called by an English writer as the Chekhov of India to which a Malayalam writer responded saying that Chekhov was the Basheer of Russia. Basheer wrote about very ordinary people from the most ordinary places. The most famous and finest book of his I have read is called (and this sounds hilarious in Malayalam cause it’s basically a sentence squished into a word in a thick Muslim accent) Ntuppuppaakkoraanendaarnnu! which means My grandpa had an elephant! or more accurately Mygrandpahadanelephent! It’s a coming of age story about a little girl named Kunjupaathumma or little Pathu, who grows up in a family that once used to be rich but is growing poorer by the day. Little pathu gets consoled by her mom on almost a daily basis telling her ‘your grandpa had an elephant!’ clinging on to old pride while doing nothing to solve their present crisis. The English translation is actually called Me Grandad 'ad an Elephant, which kinda captures the original vibe.
MT Vasudevan Nair - the greatest writer to have ever written in Malayalam. Award winning novelist, short story writer, screenwriter and director. His first foray into fiction begins with winning a prize in a short story writing contest held by the New York Herald Tribune in 1953. What proceeded is one of the most impressive literary careers in history. His novels Naalukettu and Asuravithu show the shifting economic landscape of Kerala's Nair households. In Kaalam, the protagonist living in the city begins exploring the nostalgia of his past in feudal Kerala, having to face his crippling loneliness.
MT's most celebrated work and the second (you'll hear of the first very soon) most read Malayalam novel ever is Randamoozham or The Second Turn (translation is weirdly titled Bhima: The Lone Warrior, but English readers swear its very good). Let me begin talking about this novel by simply showing you the opening lines.
The sea was black in colour. Even after having swallowed a palace and an entire city, as if it's hunger hadn't died, the wave beat her head on the shore and screamed in agony.
You just read MT describe the sinking of Dwaraka. Randamoozham is about the Mahabharata, specifically about Bhima, the second of the Pandava brothers, well... dealing with being the second. He reinterprets the events of the Mahabharata with such skill that he makes you empathize with even the cruelest characters. Modern retellings of Indian epics like Asura or Jaya basically rewrite the story and change major events and add plot twists. MT changes nothing, and I mean nothing from the Mahabharata. He simply points out things you never thought about, and explores what might have been the deeper emotional reasons behind the actions of each character. MT being the most empathetic writer I've read has this incredible talent of seeing through people and making characters feel real and tangible. In Randamoozham he explores so many emotions, Bhima's feeling of being inferior to Arjuna, his feeling of emasculation and sexual helplessness, his intense love for Draupadi never repaid as she always prefers Arjuna over him.
Khasakkinte Ithihasam or the Legends of Khasak by OV Vijayan is usually considered the best Malayalam novel ever written. If you google 'greatest Malayalam novel' either this or Randamoozham comes up (google switches them up now and then). The novel is basically magical realism, the same genre of 100 years of solitude of Gabriel Garcia Marquez. But Vijayan's magical realism is a very different beast from that of Marquez. The distinction is subtle. Unlike the novels of Marquez, whether the magical parts of the book are real or not is left ambiguous. Let me explain, the protagonist is Ravi, a stoic man separated from his girlfriend, arriving at a muslim village called Khasak in the middle of nowhere to work as a school teacher. At first its a weird disjointed series of sketches of life in this strange village filled with strange characters who attribute every event and occurence to the workings of magical beings, spirits, or even long dead Muslim warriors. But the novel slowly reveals itself to be the story of a man learning to disconnect from reality and start seeing the magic buried within life. There's a scene where the mc recollects a memory as a child of looking up at the suns and seeing the weird wiggly things that move around in your eyes. His mother explains to him that they are actually Devas or tiny gods in sky, shying away when you look at them. This scene perfectly encapsulates the genre of this novel. I'll also share the fantastic opening para:
When the bus came to its final halt in Koomankavu, the place did not seem unfamiliar to Ravi. He had never been there before, but he had seen himself coming to this forlorn outpost beneath the immense canopy of trees, with its dozen shops and shacks raised on piles; he had seen it all in recurrent premonitions—the benign age of the trees, their riven bark and roots arched above the earth. The other passengers had got off earlier and Ravi sat alone in the bus, contemplating the next part of the journey as one does an ominous transit in one’s horoscope.
Mayyazhipuzhayude Theerangalil or On the banks of the Mayyazhi river by M. Mukundan - This is a novel spanning generations of French Indians in the French colony of Mahe in Kerala. It just wonderfully rolls out history like a scroll and shows you the glacial shifts of history from the reverent attitude of the locals towards the French in the beginning of the novel to complete rebellion by the end. And all of this is interspersed with a love story and magical realism concerning an island where dead people go to and turn into dragonflies. It really opens up a new world unknown to even most Malayalis, where French words are sprinkled in between Malayalam sentences to sound cool the way we use English today and where French aristocrats have to use Malayalam to get their kids to wake up. Some of it sounds jarring and outright weird to Malayali ears.
Mon petite! Mon petite! Ezhunekkoo! Samayam vaiki! Mon petite! Translation - Mon petite! Mon petite! Wake up! It's late already! Mon petite!
Aadujeevitham or Goat Days by Benyamin - as promised, here is the most famous and most sold book in Malayalam. I really really hope at least some of you recognize this from the recent movie Aadujeevitham or Goat Life starring Prithviraj. If not, see the trailer and get an idea of what this book is like. It's fairly recent, from 2008, and is single handedly responsible for rejuvinating Malayalam literature after almost a decade of hibernation. Benyamin became an overnight sensation and a household name with this novel, and It's probably the most read Indian novel in any language. So Aadujeevitham which literally means Goat Life is based on the true story of a man named Najeeb who travelled to Saudi Arabia after he was promised a job by a friend. But at the airport he is basically tricked by an smelly fat Arab into a truck and taken to a goat farm in the middle of the desert. What follows is a tale of survival spanning 4 years of animal-like living herding goats in the middle of nowhere. Najeeb has no access to actual food, and has to dip Khuboos in water pretending it's curry, has no access to toilets and must clean himself after excretion using sand, and has no access to new clothes or shaving. The novel explores the slow devolution of a man into a barely recognizable beastlike figure, living among goats, losing his status as a human and becoming synonymous with a goat. Now how does a human go from that to running across the desert for 4 days to escape? Read the novel and find out. Every Indian must read this honestly, it's quite horrible when it really sinks into you that this shit happened. With the movie recently we got quite a lot of interviews with the original man, and it blew away so many Malayalis that some of the most horrible stuff that happens in the novel wasn't made up, that it actually happened.
The next is the last novel I'll recommend. It's from 2009 but I didn't keep it till the end because of its recency. I kept it at the end because this novel created shockwaves in the Malayalam literary community, became a very controversial book, and ended up as a sensation among the youth. This novel is credited with bringing back or introducing so many young Malayalis (including me, this is the first Malayalam novel I read) into Malayalam literature. But fair warning, this really may not be for you.
Francis Itty Cora by T.D. Ramakrishnan - Possibly the most fascinating novel I have ever read in my life. You will either love this, or hate this. I'll tell you the premise in simple words:
There are 18 secret families, whose members are some of the wealthiest people in the world, spread all over the globe who are tied to ancient rituals and satanic sex cults, protecting secret texts and scriptures, They basically control the world. All of this is interspersed with a clusterfuck of a historical mystery involving the Indian origins of calculus, Cleopatra, Florence, Fibonacci and Hypatia, and how there’s nothing in common with any of these except for the fact that all of these elements are mysteriously connected to a single 15th century pepper trader from Kerala named Francis Itty Cora. Read that again.
Still interested? The novel opens with a young American man named Xavier Itty Cora, a war veteran, who has been having erectile dysfunction ever since he sexually assaulted a girl in Iraq. He seeks help to regain his sexual health from three college girls in Kerala running a makeshift sex resort, who begin suspecting his real intentions for contacting them out of anyone else in the world. It is revealed that Xavier Itty Cora had gotten to know that his family descends from a 15th century Christian pepper trader from Kerala named Francis Itty Cora who travelled around the world and started 18 families. The three college girls set out on a hunt to find the real truth about this man all the while being chased by a secret family that still worships him as his god. Now if that does not excite you, you probably won't like it. But personally, this novel ruined Da Vinci Code for me, as every Dan Brown novel I read after this just felt stupid and dumb compared to the sheer breadth and scope of this novel. T.D. Ramakrishnan uses history to not just give you a kick, but every mystery, every detail he adds is there to support his basic thesis that violence and lust is the driving force behind human civilisation.
I hope this post was helpful in showing you the insane diversity of Malayalam literature there is. It's not a monolith, Indian languages are whole literary traditions of themselves and not just niches or small genres compared. I wrote this hoping to start a chain reaction in this subreddit, and I expect more such posts on every other Indian language from you fellow readers. Happy reading!

I'm not sure how else to word it. I'll try to explain, while providing context.
I'm 38 now and my memory is garbage, but for a long time it was excellent. My earliest memories are from around the age of 2.
I broke my arm when I was 2, which is a traumatic experience. I remember the experience not through stories about it, but through the lens of my own memory. I can tell you exactly what was going through my head when it happened.
My parents had this ugly mushroom stool, covered in orange shag carpet. I wanted to walk the edge of it. I recall my dad saying "don't do that, you'll get hurt" and me saying I wouldn't, and then lightning.
I remember not understanding object permanence. To cite a specific example, we had a vhs of Winnie the Pooh and the Honey Tree. There's a scene in which Pooh and Christopher Robin run from a swarm of bees, leap into a mud puddle, and use their umbrella as a shield. In the cartoon, you can hear Pooh talking under the umbrella... but I distinctively recall being baffled and scared by the scene, especially since everyone was fine in the next scene.
My other earliest memory, which I don't know the age of, but around 2? Was of a rectal thermometer. I was screaming no and my parents were holding me down, and it's only one little flash of memory but it's there.
My theory is that early trauma - an invasive thing, a serious injury - solidifies those neural pathways faster. I have no evidence. But I can recall things like having a crib, the abject terror of meeting Santa Claus and kicking him right in the nose... a lot of the stuff I remember clearly is scary stuff. The first time I saw An American Werewolf in London, I was maybe 3 and begging my dad to turn it off. Today it's one of my top favorite films 😆.
I can't be the only one. Does anyone else have memories from a time before they understood basic things like object permanence?
Another thing is, I remember that surreal feeling of vividness. Seeing everything through innocent eyes, not understanding how anything worked and just feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. Like... Christmas lights. In my experience, the closest I've ever come to grasping that feeling again is after a big cup of mushroom tea.

Sorry, this should have had an intro.
I binged seasons 1-3 very recently, very quickly, for the very first time. This is meant as an in-depth look at the writing, not story, quality of Allison's character arc. The amazing amount of inconsistencies and utter lack of insight into her motivations bugged me so much I looked back and double checked timelines and scenes, figured I'd throw a wall of text up, cause the more I looked, the more I found. To be clear, this isn't about my opinions on what happens, it's about actual on-screen canon that is supposed to tell us how the hell we got here.
The fact that Allison and Scott are a dream couple, a pair of starstruck lovers, bound together by fate, is sold hard. Over the top hard. For 18 Episodes straight. Scott and Allison as soulmates, halves of a whole, two high school kids walking through hell who keep on going hand-in-hand, beats us over the head with Romeo and Juliet overtones and even straight references (including probably unintentionally written irony from her father) for a reason. It's a six year arc. They gonna break them up, probably for stupid reasons, probably more than once, so we have to know they will be fine in the end, even if we have to wait 5 1/2 seasons.
The problem here, is you have set up epic level love, now you need epic reasons to keep them apart. Apparently they couldn't think of any, so they just never gave any, just a series of incomprehensible actions, not only utterly alien to the Allison presented so far, but also utterly irrational based on every single piece of reliable information she has ever received about werewolf-hunter relations. She knows her family is out of control murdering psychopaths burning children alive. She knows her mass murdering aunt is directly responsible for Scott being bitten in the first place, she knows every single death so far can also be traced back to Kate. She knows the last interactions with her mother consisted of her threatening to kill Scott as if she were discussing grounding her, and her mother easily giving up on saying goodbye to her daughter before she took a coward's way out. All these things Allison knows, she has no reliable information whatsoever that her family can be trusted, every single thing she's learned screams "trust Scott." This is the girl that a few (days, weeks?) episodes ago was swearing her undying loyalty and love for Scott, the girl who said "I want anything that let's me be with you," and she straight up switches to team genocide? How do you explain that? They don't try, they just don't. It is completely ignored. Apparently the narrative is supposed to be that she learns her mom is dead, and her lying asshole family tells her it's Derek's fault. And she makes a snap decision to embrace genocide. How do they explain why Derek would attack her mother? They don't. All we know from the actual show is she knows her mom is dead and the family blames Derek. She has no other information. Does she even know it was suicide, or did they tell her he killed her outright? We don't know. They don't bother to tell us.
It is entirely possible that that time she had to scream, beg, cry, plead, use every last drop of daddy's little girl karma, and promise to never see him again, just to stop her father from assassinating a 16 year old boy that loves her right in front of her face, in this freak show of a life that fell on her, is the actual biggest trauma she has endured, as it is the most terrified we have ever seen her, literally out of her mind with panic, only seen again as she tries to stitch Scott up in the bathroom. Her greatest fear, the thing that terrifies her more than anything, is Scott's death.
So, what does Allison do? Does she run to Scott screaming, holy crap what is going on? My fam says Derek is a murderer, my mom died, Gramps is sittin on my bed preachin vengeance served white hot in the name of genocide, what do we do? No. She ignores Scott's attempts to contact her and joins team genocide, seemingly concluding werewolves are evil and must be wiped out. Did Allison even bother to tell Scott she was leaving the party? Did she know her mom was dead before arriving? Did she bother to inform her boyfriend her mom had died? Meanwhile, Team genocide appoints a 17 year old girl to Supreme Leader, since she's the only female, and only females can be in charge, cuz sure, why not. Now, what possible reason is there for not talking to Scott, even to just demand he turn over Derek? If her dad has a problem with her texting Scott, too bad, she's in charge now. This also presents a problem later, as it is implied Scott not telling her that her mother tried to kill him was a mistake, but she will not allow him to tell her. Later it makes sense that he keeps it back, as the only contact we are aware of after she learns of her mother's death is when she breaks up with him in like a 2 minute scene, and "hey by the way your mom tried to kill me" seems a little out of place. Then she forbids him to contact her.
Now, "breaks up with him" is actually really generous, no reason is even mentioned, in fact she only ever says she's "trying to break up with him," she never actually does, which conveniently means she doesn't have to say why, Scott just goes it's cool babe, you'll be back, completely unconcerned, which conveniently allows him to totally ignore the fact that he is one of the main actual living victims of her insane family, or that his soulmate betrayed him, and is now abandoning him. On top of that, somehow the implication seems to be that Scott was something other than a victim of her family in every way, a 16 year old boy stepping up in an impossible situation, doing everything he can to clean up the Argent's mess and keep everyone as safe as possible, most especially Allison, and doing surprisingly well.
There is no way to explain her behavior, or Scott's reaction (other than he's the most forgiving and caring man in the entire world - I mean, we don't get so much as a "babe, that wasn't cool" out of him) so it is not explained, and we move on. Unfortunately, now we have a much, much, bigger problem. Let's recap, epic love, torn apart by fate, epic betrayal, moves to France. K, whatever, suspension of disbelief is not dead yet, maybe... But we now have a situation where you need a reason for Allison and Chris Argent to ever set foot in Beacon Hills again. What is it? None is ever given.
The stated goals, backed up by events, are to avoid the supernatural and have a normal life. Why move back? Is there a single reason? Based on what we get from the show, no, there is no reason. The only possible reason, unless deus ex machina plot reasons appear, and they do not, is Scott. Scott is the only possible pro you could come up with on a pro/con list of "hey should we just go back to Beacon Hills?" Let's say you had to have a scene explaining their decision to pack up, leave France, and enroll Allison at Beacon Hills High for the fall semester. How does that go? Huh? How? How is it anything other than Allison convincing her father she must be with Scott, or some convoluted crap like Chris seeing Allison "wasting away" and "losing the will to live without Scott" and deciding for her. Extracting yourself from the Supernatural involves one absolutely necessary step, never, ever, go back to Beacon Hills. But they do. Why? Unless is is specifically for Scott, WHO THE HELL KNOWS? You just literally can't write dialog for that, so Lydia, over the course of an entire season, never once says "um, so hey, like, you know, Allison, I love you and all, BUT WHY ARE YOU HERE?" There is no answer, so we ignore it.
So now we move into the 3rd season, and Allison has no motivation, none, what is her purpose? Why is her character there? How do you even write her into the plot if her only motivation is to avoid the plot? Well, who cares, just do it. First off, they go 100% comms silent for 4 months. Scott and Allison literally have no idea if the other is alive. Seems pretty convenient again, now we don't need any scenes of Scott or Allison dealing with the breakup, no chance of them letting slip a single bit of info on their states of mind. Why would we need something silly like that, we just jump forward 4 months, and we get lots of info, Scott is proud of himself for not calling Allison, believes she's never coming back (cause, why would she?) and seems rather chipper, Allison hasn't touched a boy and isn't ready to. I lied when I said lots. That's it. Really, for the whole season. They spend the entire season acting like they are old friends who care deeply for each other, went out a few times, broke up, no big deal, but they both know trying again is probably pointless for clear reasons. Allison avoids contact whenever possible, duplicating all sorts of field work, even withholding, and telling others to withhold, vital information from Scott, seemingly to prove she doesn't need him and will tell him when she's finished.
After finding out Allison has rejoined the game for the first time, Scott visits her to warn her of the full extent of the danger. She responds by acting somewhat flirty and overconfident, almost like she's been drinking. Treating him as if he's some silly boy and she is the expert werewolf hunter, even claiming she can "take him" and seemingly amused he doesn't know this. He reluctantly but easily disabuses her of this infantile narrative, and her reaction is to pout like a child, literally stomping over to her bed and dropping on the ground next to it. Seemingly once again referencing her need to be "better than Scott." Really seems like going in full tilt on team Scott, literally training with a werewolf couldn't hurt, right? But what do I know, she's probably better off all alone, acting like a self-absorbed brat.
So we hurl through season 3 with Allison nothing more than a plot device, mostly treating Scott as if he doesn't exist, only interacting with him when plot demands it, almost always treating him coldly and politely, sometimes more curt and combative, except when he's in danger. Scott saves her life when Isaac loses it, barely pulling him away before he kills her, because Scott does what Scott does, and she doesn't even say thanks. She saves Scott twice, proving how much he needs her. We are shown she cares deeply for Scott, at least as a friend, but not once in the entire season do they even discuss where they are at as a couple, even though there are plenty of opportunities, and at least a few teases that they will kiss. Then stuff kinda happens with Isaac, Chris for some reason is unconcerned with this other than a single comment played for comic relief, it is never explained, then she dies and doesn't have time to tell them about plot stuff cuz she's too busy declaring her love for Scott, nary a glance nor mention of Isaac, laying wounded 10 feet away, so what was the freaking point?
Let's revisit her dying message to Scott. Everything is fine, I'm dying in the arms of my true love, it's ok, I'll always love you! Wait, what? Did she forget and just remember? Are we supposed to parse her words and get "I used to be in love with you, too bad it didn't work out, I'll always love you though, but, you know, just as a friend?" Has she been lying the whole time for some unknown reason? Where the hell did Epic Love Story come from? We spent the whole season pretending it never happened, it was just a high school crush and they should grow up and move on... Now we're doing Epic Tragedy?
If you do want to parse her words: It's ok, It's ok, It's ok, It's ok, It's perfect.
I'm in the arms of my first love, the first person I ever loved, the person I will always love
I love you, Scott, Scott McCall
This is %^&%&*^(*^&*%#%$# straight up emotional abuse.
There is just no way to make sense of this, her character just enacts plot goals, with no regard for the motivations and experiences of the character prior to her mother's death. I cannot blame anyone for being glad she was gone, since they absolutely ruined her through incompetence mixed with a bit of bad luck.
edit (oops forgot): Gotta pretend her mom's note had a magic spell on it, released when she burned it.
I'll just tell myself Gramps (or surprise, Granny Genocide) is still hanging around and showed her video during the summer of hunters in both her (yeah, in France) and Scott's bedrooms ready to kill them, and tells her she has to come back, but if he sees her dating Scott, this time he will kill them both.
There, makes sense now.

“True happiness comes from the joy of deeds well done, the zest of creating things new.” Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Bio
Name: Taylor Bennett Armstrong	Date of Birth: 04/03/2024
Age: 15 years old	Gender: Demiboy (he/his, they/them)
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual	Nationality: Canadian
Ethnicity: Irish-Jewish	Languages: English, French, Japanese
Hometown: Toronto, Canada	Demigod Conundrums: ADHD

Family:

Name Relation Age Occupation Relationship ------------
Benjamin Armstrong Father 42 years old Artist Taylor shares a special bond with his father, Benjamin Armstrong. Despite being a single parent for much of Taylor's life, Benjamin always made sure to provide a loving and nurturing environment for his son. He recognized Taylor's unique talents from a young age and encouraged him to explore his creativity without limitations. Benjamin's own passion for art and innovation served as an inspiration for Taylor, shaping his worldview and igniting his love for invention. Benjamin supports Taylor's dreams and ambitions wholeheartedly, even if he doesn't always understand the mechanics behind his son's creations.
Eliza Armstrong Stepmother 43 years old Graphic Designer She brings a different perspective to Taylor's life. As a graphic designer, she values precision and order, which sometimes clashes with Taylor's more spontaneous and chaotic approach to creativity. However, despite their differences, Eliza cares deeply for Taylor and wants what's best for him. She worries about Taylor's safety and well-being, especially when his inventions go awry and cause unintended chaos. She often finds herself playing the role of the voice of reason, urging Taylor to think things through more carefully before diving headfirst into his next project. Despite their occasional disagreements, Eliza recognizes Taylor's potential and admires his boundless imagination and ingenuity.
Rachel Armstrong Half-sister 10 years old Student Rachel Armstrong, Taylor's half-sister, adores her older brother and looks up to him with wide-eyed admiration. From a young age, she was fascinated by Taylor's inventions and artistic talents, often trailing after him like a curious puppy, eager to learn and explore alongside him. Taylor sees Rachel as the most precious angel in the world and is very protective of her. He takes great joy in teaching her how to sketch, build, and code, fostering her own love for art and invention. Rachel, in turn, idolizes her big brother and cherishes their time together.

Appearance

Faceclaim: this Picrew Voiceclaim Walter from Spies in Disguise

Features	Description
Height	5’8 feet
Weight	157 lbs
Hair	Ginger
Eyes	Blue
Skin	Tan
Build	Lean, slim
Scent	Ink, paint, oil
Attire	Gamer Aesthetic

Overview: Ginger Hair: One of Taylor's most noticeable features is his vibrant ginger hair, which seems to have a life of its own. His locks cascade in untamed waves around his head, framing his face in a fiery halo. Despite occasional attempts to tame it, Taylor's hair always manages to retain its wild, rebellious spirit, reflecting his own untamed nature. Taylor's eyes are a mesmerizing shade of blue. They sparkle with curiosity and intelligence, constantly darting from one point of interest to the next. Across Taylor's nose and cheeks are scattered a constellation of freckles, like tiny stars dotting the canvas of his face. Despite his intelligence beyond his years, Taylor's face retains a youthful charm and innocence. His features are soft and rounded, with a hint of boyish mischief lurking behind his bright smile. There is a sense of wonder and curiosity in his expression, as if he is forever on the brink of discovering something new and exciting. Taylor's fashion sense is a reflection of his personality, blending comfort with a hint of geeky flair. He favors graphic t-shirts adorned with characters from his favorite video games, showcasing his love for gaming and pop culture. His hoodies are oversized and well-worn, providing both warmth and a sense of familiarity. Taylor's cargo pants are practical and utilitarian, offering plenty of pockets to store his tools and gadgets for tinkering. His sneakers are his constant companions, scuffed and worn from countless adventures and late-night gaming marathons.

Personality

“Creativity is a wild mind and a disciplined eye.” Dorothy Parker
Quality Traits Positive Optimistic, Creative, Kind-hearted, Spontaneous, Resilient Neutral Naive, Chaotic, Impulsive, Eccentric, Idealistic Negative Gullible, Overbearing, Impatient, Inattentive, Stubborn
Overview: Taylor radiates an infectious positivity that lights up any room he enters. He greets each day with boundless enthusiasm, seeing every challenge as an opportunity for adventure and growth. His optimism is unwavering, even in the face of adversity, and he has a knack for finding the silver lining in the darkest of situations. Taylor's sunny disposition makes him a joy to be around, and his genuine smile can brighten even the gloomiest of days. Taylor marches to the beat of his own drum, embracing his individuality with gusto. He has never been one to conform to societal norms or expectations, preferring to chart his own course through life. Taylor's free-spirited nature is reflected in everything he does, from his spontaneous inventions to his unconventional approach to problem-solving. He thrives on the freedom to express himself creatively, unbound by rules or conventions. Taylor's energy is boundless, and he approaches everything he does with an infectious sense of excitement and wonder. He is easily captivated by new ideas and experiences, often bouncing from one project to the next with the fervor of a child in a candy store. Taylor's excitable nature fuels his insatiable curiosity, driving him to constantly seek out new challenges and adventures. Despite his youthful exuberance, Taylor possesses a keen intellect far beyond his years. He is a natural problem-solver, able to think outside the box and come up with innovative solutions to even the most daunting of challenges. Taylor's mind is a whirlwind of ideas and possibilities, constantly buzzing with new inventions and artistic endeavors. His creativity knows no bounds, and he revels in the thrill of bringing his imagination to life. Taylor's intelligence and creativity have instilled in him a healthy dose of confidence, bordering on cockiness at times. He knows his worth and isn't afraid to show it, often speaking his mind with a brashness that can catch others off guard. However, Taylor's confidence is tempered by his humility and genuine humility. He is quick to acknowledge his mistakes and learn from them, never allowing his ego to overshadow his humanity. At the core of Taylor's personality is a deep well of kindness and empathy for others. He genuinely cares about the people around him and goes out of his way to help those in need. Taylor's compassion knows no bounds, and he often puts the needs of others before his own. He is quick to offer a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on, and his unwavering support has endeared him to many. Beneath Taylor's cheerful exterior lies a vulnerability that he often tries to conceal. He is sensitive to the opinions of others and fears being rejected or misunderstood. Taylor's insecurities stem from a desire to be accepted and valued for who he truly is, flaws and all. Despite his outward confidence, he struggles with feelings of loneliness and self-doubt, yearning for genuine connections and validation. Taylor's drive for excellence can sometimes border on perfectionism, leading him to be overly critical of himself and his work. He sets high standards for himself and is often disappointed when he falls short of his own expectations. However, Taylor's perfectionism is tempered by his resilience and determination to persevere in the face of failure. He sees each setback as an opportunity to learn and grow, refusing to let obstacles dampen his spirit. Taylor has a gift for communication, able to express his thoughts and feelings with clarity and sincerity. He is a natural storyteller, captivating audiences with his animated anecdotes and infectious enthusiasm. Taylor's ability to connect with others on a deep emotional level makes him a trusted confidant and valued friend. He listens intently to others, offering words of encouragement and wisdom when needed. Taylor approaches life with a sense of adventure, always eager to explore new horizons and push the boundaries of what is possible. He thrives on the thrill of discovery, relishing in the excitement of unknown possibilities. Taylor's insatiable curiosity drives him to seek out new experiences and embrace the unknown with open arms. Whether embarking on a daring quest or simply trying out a new recipe, he approaches each adventure with the same sense of wonder and excitement. Taylor has a playful sense of humor that often borders on mischievousness. He loves to joke and laugh, finding joy in the absurdities of life. Taylor's playful nature brings levity to even the most serious of situations, helping to ease tension and lift spirits. He delights in pulling harmless pranks and sharing witty banter with friends, always with a twinkle in his eye and a grin on his face. Taylor is incredibly adaptable, able to thrive in any environment or situation. He approaches change with a sense of curiosity and excitement, eager to embrace new challenges and opportunities. Taylor's ability to adapt to different circumstances has served him well throughout his life, allowing him to navigate the complexities of both the mortal world and the realm of the gods with ease.
Preferences
Favourite... Item Food Macaroni and cheese, mango milkshake Colour Electric Blue Season Summer Weather Sunny, warm, clear skies Music Pop, rock, orchestral, jazz, celtic Animals Bunnies and Cats Book/Movie Genre Fantasy, Sci-fi, Romance, Slice-of-life, Adventure, Action Media Avatar: The Last Airbender, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Chronicles of Narnia, Kingdom Hearts, Legend of Zelda, Genshin Impact, Honkai Impact 3rd, Honkai: Star Rail, Pokémon, a scary amount of anime, etc…
Hobbies:

• Drawing
• Painting
• Crafting
• Sewing
• Video Games
• Cosplay

Demigod Info

Powers

Name	Type	Description
Psychometry	Domain	The ability to glean information from a particular object relevant to the parent's domain, especially its material make-up and method of creation. (Crafts, Mechanics and Art)
Enhanced Skill Proficiency	Domain	A trait where one is naturally adept in the skills lorded over by their parent. (Crafts, Mechanics and Art)
Summon Tool	Domain	The ability to summon any small tool. (Once every 5 minutes or per turn.) (Duct Tape or Superglue)
Machine Communication	Minor	A trait where one is able to understand and communicate with automatons and machinery (includes code).
Electrical Resistance	Minor	A trait where one is able to resist electricity to a such degree that they are able to withstand badly interacting with small appliances.
Machine Manipulation (Technokinesis)	Minor	The ability to directly control mechanisms, machines and automatons.
Basic Enchantment	Major	The ability to imbue weapons, crafts, machinery and automatons with magical properties (modmail for specific enchantments). Options: Weapon Transformation—into a mundane item; Monster Hunting Proficiency for a) Fleshy Monsters—Sharpness, b) Armored Monsters—Bludgeoning, c) Ghosty Monsters—Absorption

Weapon of Choice: Bastard Sword
Fatal Flaw: Naivety Taylor's fatal flaw lies in his inherent naivety, stemming from his trusting and optimistic nature. Despite his intelligence and creativity, Taylor often lacks the worldly wisdom and discernment needed to navigate the complexities of the world around him. His naivety makes him vulnerable to manipulation and deception, as he struggles to see the darker intentions lurking behind the smiles of others.

Items and Equipment

Name	Age	Description
Sketchbook	7 years old	Taylor always carries a sketchbook with him, filled with doodles, sketches, and designs inspired by his vivid imagination.
Art Supplies	3 years old	As someone who enjoys art, Taylor keeps a collection of art supplies like pencils, markers, and colored pencils, allowing him to bring his creative visions to life wherever he goes.
Tool Kit	5 years old	As a budding inventor and tinkerer, Taylor carries a compact tool kit with him at all times. It contains essential tools like screwdrivers, pliers, wrenches, and a mini soldering iron, allowing him to repair gadgets, fix mechanical issues, and work on DIY projects on the fly.
Nintendo Switch	2 years old	Taylor never leaves home without Nintendo Switch. He keeps a selection of his favorite games in his backpack, ready to play whenever he has a spare moment to indulge in his love of gaming.
Music Player	3 years old	Music is a constant source of inspiration and motivation for Taylor, so he always carries a portable music player loaded with his favorite tunes.
Cat Headphones	1 year old	High-quality headphones that allow him to escape into his own world of music whenever he needs a break from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. They are cat-themed for no reason other than Taylor felt like it.

Trivia

• Zodiac Sign: Pisces
• MBTI: ESTP-T (The Entrepreneur)
• Enneagram: Type 7 (The Enthusiast)
• Love Languages: Words of Affirmation (receive); Acts of service (give)
• Quirk: Doodling on almost every surface he sees when bored.
• Fears: Hurting People, Big Animals

Backstory

“There is no innovation and creativity without failure.” ***Brené Brown*
Taylor Bennett Armstrong was born into a creatively vibrant family. His father, Benjamin Armstrong, was a dedicated artist who often spent hours in his studio, painting and sculpting. Benjamin's work was deeply inspired by classical art, and his studio was filled with references to mythological themes and ancient techniques. This environment planted the seeds of creativity in Taylor from a very young age.
Taylor’s biological mother was Techne, the goddess of art, craft, and invention, but he had no knowledge of her divine heritage. His mother left shortly after his birth, leaving Benjamin to raise Taylor on his own. Despite the absence of his mother, Taylor's early childhood was filled with love and encouragement from his father.
When Taylor was five, Benjamin met Eliza, a talented graphic designer, at an art exhibit. They quickly bonded over their shared love for art and soon married. Eliza embraced Taylor as her own, though she struggled to understand his unique, often chaotic way of thinking and creating.
Even as a young child, Taylor showed remarkable intelligence and creativity. By the age of six, he was building simple machines and drawing intricate designs. His father was both amazed and slightly concerned when Taylor began to take apart household appliances to understand how they worked. While Benjamin encouraged his son's curiosity, Eliza worried about the constant mess and occasional accidents that resulted from Taylor's experiments.
Taylor’s half-sister, Rachel, was born when he was five. She looked up to her big brother with admiration, often following him around and watching as he created his various inventions. Despite the occasional mishap, Taylor and Rachel shared a close bond, with Taylor frequently making small toys and gadgets to entertain her.
School was both a blessing and a curse for Taylor. His intelligence allowed him to excel academically, but his unique way of thinking and his constant tinkering often got him into trouble. Teachers labeled him a "problem child" due to his inability to sit still and follow conventional methods. Taylor's inventions occasionally caused disruptions, further cementing his reputation.
Socially, Taylor found it hard to connect with his peers. His enthusiasm and intelligence often intimidated other children, and he was frequently taken advantage of by classmates who used him to boost their own grades. These experiences left Taylor feeling lonely and self-conscious about his naivety, although he never let it dampen his cheerful spirit.
Taylor's life took a dramatic turn when he was 15 years old. One day, while working on a particularly ambitious project in his makeshift workshop, he was visited by Oleander, a satyr sent by Camp Half-Blood. Oleander had been observing Taylor for some time, noting his extraordinary abilities and his connection to the divine.
Oleander revealed to Taylor the truth about his mother, Techne, and his demigod heritage. At first, Taylor was skeptical, thinking it was some sort of elaborate joke or fantasy. However, Oleander's ability to demonstrate his satyr powers and his deep knowledge of Taylor's unexplained talents eventually convinced him.
Explaining the situation to his family was a challenge. Benjamin, who had always suspected that there was something special about Taylor, took the news in stride. Eliza, though worried and confused, ultimately supported the decision, understanding that Camp Half-Blood could provide Taylor with the guidance he needed. Rachel was both excited and scared for her brother, worried about the dangers he might face and she would miss him.
Thankfully, despite the huge distance he and Oleander had to travel from Toronto to Long Island went calmly, for the most part, with not many delays or monsters attacking them.
Well, at least until they reached New York. After that, the whole “calm journey” was out the window. It almost seemed like all the monsters decided to wait until they were close to their destination to suddenly appear one after the other. First they had to somehow avoid a cyclops. Then they were attacked by dracanaea. And finally, they were chased by harpies until they crossed the border of Camp Half-Blood.
By some miracle, they were still alive.
What a way to be introduced to demigod life.

Present Day

“Creativity is inventing, experimenting, growing, taking risks, breaking rules, making mistakes, and having fun” Mary Lou Cook
Taylor's arrival at Campbell Half-Blood was… something, alright.
You know, being chased by monsters from New York to Long Island, passing out in between attacks and then waking up in the Medic Cabin feeling like you've been hit by a truck and maimed by a cat at the same time was, in short, not fun. It also didn't help the fact that he had to stay in bed to get treated for what, hours. Which, for someone like Taylor, was absolute torture. Good for him then that demigods, apparently, had magic healing and he didn't have to stay for days instead. At least Oleander was around to explain every detail about the world he's been thrust into now that he was out of danger. And as a plus, he was also claimed, so yay! He had no clue who Techne was, but he was sure he would learn soon enough.
So, what does Taylor do after getting patched up? Does he wait and rest for a bit just to make sure everything is okay with him? Does he stop for a moment to process everything that has happened to him in the last 24 hours?
No! Of course not! This is Taylor, after all. Him staying put for more than 10 minutes would be a miracle already.
Instead, he just went off on his own to see what this Camp Half-Blood was all about. He just had to get to his cabin first, which would be relatively easy with Oleander's instructions, and then he could explore this place to his heart's content!
Hopefully, Camp Half-Blood would be ready for the chaotic force Taylor would prove to be.
[OOC: Hello, everyone! Say hello to my new character, Taylor! Feel free to interact with him literally anywhere at Camp, he's probably going to be there at some point anyway lmao. Thanks for reading;)]

Hurricane Georg.
Our first contact with the new world was a colossal hurricane. Veins of lightning shattered through the black, swirling clouds. I had just tried to calm the nerves of the ship when I saw Suri sitting in the hall beneath the control room.
She was in a lounge corner with her suitcase opened and her supplies scattered across the small table. The little light from the window illuminated her drawing for me to see over her shoulder.
The black and white sketch began at the bow of the ship. The figure of a man in facing the open ocean. Ahead of him, the familiar despair of Hurricane Georg. The man had his back towards the artist, but his stature sailed through the fierce storm without worry. His gaze only in the beautiful sight of home on the other side.
Her pencil began to etch the details of his crewmans jacket, "You have a gift, Suri. Truly, you do."
She was ahead of me, she did not jump or gasp as I had expected, "Thank you, Capi. I saw you in the reflection. Im hard to get the jump on."
"Then this shouldnt surprise you," I smiled and approached her table. "My capi stars are on the right side, "I stepped back and tapped my shoulder."
Disappointment inked her face, darkening her mood, "Dam."
I laughed and pulled up a chair. She had captured the view from the window perfectly and I made a point to tell her. As we talked the storm outside began to fade. The world around us was healed and the worries of yesterday had never existed.
Her eyes were near black, in color, and her skin was incredibly warm. Physical characteristic were useless to determine where a person was from, but 500 years ago, she would have fit at home with the people of the Middle East. Had I been a different man, her beauty and brain would make a perfect partner.
The longer I stared, the darker the world around us became. Until she broke my gaze and looked shocked at something through the window.
"Did you see that?"
"No, what was it?"
"I-Im not sure..." her face drained of color as the harsh rocking of the storm was interrupted by something else. Suri and I were flung off our chairs onto the floor, her supplies pelting us as they flew through the air. I tried to stand, but my legs were too soft to make it easy.
I struggled to a kneel using the bolted-down desk. Suri gasped and I looked down. The longer I looked, the itchier it became. Once more the world grew darker and I only had enough energy for a simple joke.
"Mr. Morgs was right about those things."
"Gud morning, Capi!" Ennay cheered from the wall-mounted screen.
I struggled to sit myself up. I was in the infirmary, only Ennay was there to greet me. My jacket was gone. All I had on was a white t-shirt and grey shorts.
"Officer Angelhart had your attire taken to be cleaned," Ennay chimed in, "Today is Wednesday, sir, 4:13am. Its the morning after you lost consciousness."
I thanked him and asked him to catch me up on the happenings in the passed half day.
"The reality is unclear, Capi, but Helmsman Archer believes we were attacked by a... a sea monster, sir."
"Archer? Hes no storyteller. Why?" I swung my legs over the bed, "get him down here or tell him im on my way."
Ennay surprised me with his fast response, "No. Sir, We had a breach. Ms. Aziz told the Doctor you had severed and artery during a spell of turbulence. The New Horizon had actually made contact with something what breached the hull. Damage Control responded in 4 minutes and were quick to contain flooding. However, we sustained a second breach."
Before he could continue, I dropped back onto the bed, "Whats the status?"
"On the New Horizon? Operational. A few sections had to be permanently sealed until we are out of this storm."
"And Damage Control?"
Ennay did not respond as quickly as he had been. It felt like an eternity before he told me, "6 casualties," the room fell completely silent. I couldnt even hear my heart beating, "5 fatalities. Sergant Franccigo Blanco is recovering in Infirmary 4C. He is unconscious, but has sustained gruesome wounds. Officer Angelhart declared a S.O.E. to assume your position. Otherwise,..."
"Yes, yes, the prosthetics. I hate that system."
"Well, sir, you are able to disable it."
"What?"
"Its not a very common scenario, but since we are not in International Sea, the law requiring your presence does not necessarily need to be enforced."
I sat back and thought for a second, "Ill discuss it with Dr. Mally. Where are they all?"
"Dr. Mally is in Infirmary 4C with Sergant Blanco. Officer Angelhart is your office filling out an incident report for both your accident and the breaches."
"Thank you, Ennay. Tell Max I am on my way and then let Dr. Mally know I will meet her shortly."
"Of course, sir."
My office was silent except for the fan gently spinning from the ceiling. Across from me was a young man, mid-twenties, with dusty blond hair. His uniform was perfect, he has even removed his hat on the perfect beat upon entering the room.
The appearance and demeanor any ship captain would be beyond proud to accept on his ship. It had just been dumb luck that he had lost both of his eyes to shrapnel sealing off the lower corridors during the state of emergency yesterday.
I poured Mr. Blanco a drink, 2444 Geoff Russel - The Hearty Mans Drink. I needed to finish the incident report, but Id never ask a man to relive what he had without a bit of buzz to his bite.
"So, Sargent Blanco, I-"
"You can call me, Fran, Capi."
"And you can call me Santago, for tonight anyway," I continued my questions. I tried my best to stay shallow and not dive deep into the pain Fran had endures just hours ago.
We talked about the 5 fatalities.
"Did you... see... them die?"
The gauze replacing his eyes stared at me, blankly. His face was uncanny, unhuman. Like the man inside may actually have been a 6th dead body.
"No," he quickly took a drink, "I did hear them, though. They yelled and screamed for me to open the door. I- I couldnt see. I thought the sea water had poisoned me somehow. I kept rubbing and rubbing my eyes hoping to get whatever radioactive stuff out of my head..." He took a breath. He was remarkably calm. Agitated, of course. But calm.
He continued, "I looked through the window on the bulkhead and the last thing I saw was Aleks staring back at me. His eyes were... he was calling out for me, I am sure of it. But something got him and he was sucked out."
"I am so sorry, Fran," I tried to write as quietly as possible to not remind him of the formality, "Do you know what got him?"
He finished his glass. As he set it down, he missed the table. The cup did not shatter, but it had jolted Fran from his memory. He lost his composure.
He started yelling at me about a horrific beast he had seen. How Aleks, Private Aleksander Igorsen, had been encased in blood and black sludge. He swung his hands wildly at the table in a rage, but had only managed to knock over a lamp.
Pity does not begin to describe what I felt watching him. Like a bleeding animal continuing to run from the wolves despite not knowing he was already surrounded. In him, I saw death. I saw anger. I saw fear. I saw what he was feeling imaging the creature that killed his men.
I grappled with him, trying to make my location known and always talking to him. I was not some monster from the unknown blackness set on hunting him and he needed to know that. He continued to struggle until I had completely engulfed his whirlwind into a hug. The screams turned to cries and then to whimpers.
After some time, I dismissed him back to his room and instructed Ennay that he was on suicide watch. Sergant Franccigo Blanco had earned a promotion or a permanent dismissal, whichever he wanted, but I needed him to take time to himself before I reminded him where we are.
The storm was intense, but at least it was consistent. By Katzs reckoning, we are approaching the halfway point of this hurricane. We had entered it 51 hours ago and Katz had said we are another 50 away from clear skies.
Unfortunately for all of us, Katzs theory was not seen through.
It began with our solar panelling being severed from their operating power banks. That was not a major issue, hydropower was our primary source. The issue arose when the New Horizon began to spin.
I had radioed the Helmsman demanding why we are weighing anchor, but the anchor was still resting above water. He said no one dropped the anchor. Something else entirely had us. We rushed to every window, every pane of glass to search for whatever it was that was stopping us.
Ennay spoke out, "Capi, Major Gorlammi has spotted our snag at 129 degrees. Nearest viewpoint is Residential Room L3D, assigned to L-"
I ignored the rest, I needed to see what was in that window. Luckily for me, Lucy Partridge was not home. I burst through the door and, for the first time, I saw a behemoth of a serpent-like creature sticking out of the water. I could not see a head, nor tail. I also had no idea if what I saw was the body or an appendage connected to some inconceivably large beast.
After enough time, I manage to figure out one of the ships heavy guns had pierced the creature and was holding us together. Our best bet was to either rotate the gun and hope its dislodged or to remove the gun entirely.
I relayed this information to Ennay to alerted the Gunner Teams and Damage Control. Yet, none of them would be given the chance. In the distance, silhouetted by sparks of lightning the size of the ship, I saw the head of the creature. It must have been miles away, but the size was unparalleled. Its head leaped from the water and swiveled back towards us. It was like a colossal eel. Flashes of light showed through its skin like veins until it sent a surge into the gun and into the ship.
The lights went out across the boat. The only light was the occasional flash from outside. It was completely dark, but I knew it was still coming for us.
I ran out of the quarters as emergency lights slowly burned. The hallway must have been 100 feet long before Id reach the staircase, but when I was halfway through, my feet left the ground.
I felt weightless for a moment. The lights burned out and all around me was darkness. My heart was incredibly slow or maybe time had slowed. I felt the doorframe to Mrs. Partridges room snap against my elbow. There was no pain. I didnt even feel pain when glass cut across my back as I was hurled through the shattered window.
I crashed into the water, it must have been hundreds of feet below me. I was in shock. I looked around and all I saw was darkness. Then, suddenly, all I saw was light. The eel sent a pulse through its body and for the first time I saw the monster entirely. It surrounded the ship above water, coiled all about the waves, and entangled the entire ocean as deep as I could see.
This is not a colossal eel surviving a hurricane.
This colossal eel is the very being causing the hurricane.
A cosmic terror named Hurricane Georg.

Hey everyone, my friends and I (22M) were walking on the street looking for yakitori in Ginza/Yurakucho area. We were looking for a Torikizoku which is a yakitori chain in Japan when an “employee” from a different restaurant started asking us to go into his place advertising it with an English menu and cheap food/drinks. This was a big warning sign that we missed. It is apparently illegal for any restaurant worker to go out on the street and try to bring you in, so avoid places that do that. Initially we just kept walking but after checking the line at Torikizoku, we went back on the street. My friends wanted to check out the place the guy was advertising, so against our better judgement we headed up.
Normally, on the street, there are signs advertising the name and floor of a restaurant. There were none. We had to take an elevator up with the guy from the street and the entire time we didn’t see any directory talking about the name of it. We got to the 5th floor and the restaurant was completely empty at 7:00pm on a Sunday, another warning sign. We then sat down, and I was immediately sketched out.
I asked my friend who spoke Japanese to ask our server for the name of the restaurant and she didn’t know it. She got really quiet and walked away to grab a fake business card with the name on it. The menus also didn’t have a name, which was bizarre. We searched up the name on the business card: HAMANOKA, Ginza. There were no reviews for the place and it wasn’t on Google or Apple Maps when we checked where we were, another warning sign.
The waitress kept offering us Nomihodai, all you can drink, for really cheap and even though we said no, she came back 6 times and kept asking us if we wanted beer or cheap drinks, another warning sign. I had read about places in Kabukicho that had scammed tourists in the exact same way so I had a suspicion. I got up and told my friends I was leaving, we still had ordered nothing, and they agreed to leave. The waitress printed us a bill for $22 CAD and the charge on the bill was for “appetizers”, that we hadn’t ordered. That was another warning sign, and apparently it’s illegal to charge customers for things they never ordered. We ended up paying and got out of there before we could lose any more money.
My friend is Japanese Canadian so he called his Grandma, who lives in the countryside, and asked her all about it afterwards. She detailed how there was a real problem with places inviting in and scamming tourists. She mentioned that it was illegal to invite people off the street and that the government had been cracking down on places like that. She also mentioned that they would charge hidden fees for things like ordering liquor that are 10x the price of the drinks. And if you don’t agree to pay, they don’t let you leave unless you call the police. We were lucky that they only manage to gouge us for ¥2200 but it couldn’t have been worse. I put the name of the place in the title so that anyone searching up the name of this place might hopefully stumble into this Reddit post, which would have saved us last night. The names of these places are always changing, so just remember if it seems to good to be true then it probably is.

Ok. i think we are done here. Could you write me another signs of high-tech low-life society?

Absolutely! Here are some signs of a high-tech, low-life society:
Ubiquitous Technology, Crumbling Infrastructure:

• Glitching Skyscrapers: Imagine towering structures clad in malfunctioning holographic displays, projecting advertisements or flashing warnings over rusting metal frames.
• Smart Slums: Dilapidated housing blocks are retrofitted with basic smart tech – malfunctioning automated doors, flickering smart lights controlled by unreliable apps.
• Cybernetic Beggars: People with outdated or malfunctioning cybernetic limbs beg for credits to upgrade or repair them, creating a grotesque spectacle of technological dependence.

Extreme Social Inequality:

• Virtual Gated Communities: The wealthy live in luxurious virtual reality simulations, completely divorced from the harsh realities of the physical world.
• Data Black Markets: Personal information becomes a tradable commodity, with the poor selling their data scraps for a pittance to afford basic necessities.
• Cybernetic Caste System: The level of cybernetic augmentation determines social status. Those with outdated or malfunctioning implants are relegated to menial labor.

Technology as a Corrupting Force:

• Government by Algorithm: A corrupt AI dictates city policies, leading to impersonal and often harmful decisions based on cold calculations.
• Widespread Addiction to Virtual Reality: People escape the harsh realities of their lives through immersive VR experiences, neglecting their physical well-being and social connections.
• Black Market Biohacking: Desperate people turn to illegal biohacking to enhance their bodies, often with disastrous consequences.

Environmental Devastation:

• Tech Wastelands: Vast landscapes are littered with the discarded remains of outdated technology, creating toxic waste dumps and breeding grounds for disease.
• Weather Warfare: Nations use sophisticated technology to manipulate weather patterns, leading to devastating natural disasters for their enemies.
• Hacked Ecosystems: Corporations hack into natural ecosystems, manipulating flora and fauna for profit, leading to unpredictable and dangerous mutations.

This is just a glimpse into a high-tech, low-life society. These elements can be mixed and matched to create a truly dystopian world.

Picture some possible advertisements from such settings.

High-Tech, Low-Life Advertisements:

1. Holographic Billboard: (Flickers intermittently, distorting the image)

Product: "Neura-Calm 2.0" - Brain Implant
Slogan: "Tired of the glitches in your head? Neura-Calm 2.0 smooths out your neural network for a worry-free, low-lag existence! (Side effects may include memory loss, emotional numbness, and occasional involuntary twitching.)"

1. Grungy Neon Sign in a Seedy Back Alley:

Product: "Doc Chrome's Cybernetic Enhancements"
Slogan: "Get that edge you need! From basic strength mods to full black-market military enhancements, Doc Chrome has you covered! (Used parts, buyer beware.)"

1. Pop-Up Ad on a Cracked Mobile Screen:

Product: "Elysium VR Escape Pod"
Slogan: "Can't afford real estate in the Sky City? Escape the slums for Elysium VR! Live your wildest dreams in a pristine virtual world! (Free trial, monthly subscription required, real-world consequences for in-pod violence.)"

1. Stenciled Graffiti on a Rusting Service Drone:

Product: "Data Scrappers Anonymous"
Slogan: "Selling your personal data just to make rent? We can help you break free! Join our community and reclaim your digital identity! (Meetings held in abandoned ventilation shafts, Tuesdays at dusk.)"

1. Holographic Advertisement projected onto a Polluted River:

Product: "Eco-Scrub 5000" - Nanomachines
Slogan: "The river's looking a little…toxic? Eco-Scrub 5000 nanomachines clean up your local waterways! (May cause unforeseen mutations in aquatic life.)"

Another batch please.

1. Rusty Public Announcement Speaker: (Screeching static interspersed with the message)

Product: "Ministry of Order Approved Thought Regulators"
Slogan: "Unwanted thoughts causing glitches in your daily routine? The Ministry of Order approved Thought Regulator ensures a streamlined thought process for a more productive you! (May cause extreme conformity, inability to question authority, and spontaneous nosebleeds.)"

1. Faded Holographic Billboard on a Collapsing Skyscraper:

Product: "Luxury Chrome Plating Kit"
Slogan: "Ditch the rust! Chrome-plate your entire body for a sleek, metallic sheen. The mark of a true high-society citizen! (WARNING: Highly toxic fumes, may cause spontaneous combustion in humid environments.)"

1. Spam Email: (Subject: "YOU'VE BEEN CHOSEN!")

Product: "The Syndicate's Black Market Upgrade Lottery"
Body: "Congratulations! You've been randomly selected for a chance to win a top-of-the-line cybernetic upgrade! One lucky winner will receive military-grade night vision implants! Enter now! (Participation requires full biometric data submission. Winners responsible for extraction of previous, incompatible implants.)"

1. Glowing Neon Sign in a Crowded Marketplace:

Product: "Mama Chen's Guaranteed-Growth GMO Groceries"
Slogan: "Tired of expired rations and mystery meat? Mama Chen's GMO Groceries offer guaranteed growth on all fruits and vegetables! Bigger, faster, tastier! (Long-term effects unknown.)"

1. Audio Ad on a Glitching Radio Broadcast:

Product: "Rusty's Reliable Rocketship Repair"
Voiceover: (Gruff, heavily accented) "Is your escape pod sputtering? Did your joyride end in a fiery crash? Rusty's Reliable Rocketship Repair gets you back in the stars... eventually! (Guaranteed not to explode... again. Parts sourced from scrapyards. May contain rogue AIs.)"

Now craft ads that would be shown in high-society parts of cities.

High-Society Ads in a High-Tech, Low-Life World

1. Tranquil Holographic Projection in a Private Garden:

Product: "Serenity Spa - Neural Rebalancing Retreat"
Visual: A serene mountain landscape with a luxurious spa nestled amongst the clouds.
Slogan: "Escape the chaos. Reclaim your inner peace. Serenity Spa's exclusive neural rebalancing treatments restore harmony to your overloaded mind. (Limited availability, reservations required centuries in advance.)"

1. Discreet Text Message: (Delivered via secure, encrypted channel)

Product: "The Black Archive - Unrestricted Data Access"
Body: "Craving the forbidden? The Black Archive offers unparalleled access to censored historical records, banned media, and classified government information. Knowledge is power. (Extreme discretion guaranteed. One-time access fee, cryptocurrency only.)"

1. Exclusive Gala Invitation: (Delivered by hand-drones)

Event: "The Zenith Initiative - Unveiling the Next Generation of Cybernetic Enhancements"
Visual: A sleek, chrome figure with glowing blue cybernetic implants, striking a confident pose.
Details: "Mingle with the city's elite and witness the unveiling of cutting-edge cybernetic enhancements designed to redefine human potential. RSVP required. Black-tie attire mandatory. (Augmentations sold separately.)"

1. Curated Virtual Reality Experience: (Delivered on a high-security chip)

Product: "Elysium VR - Bespoke Worlds"
Description: "Escape the limitations of reality. Elysium VR crafts personalized virtual worlds tailored to your deepest desires. Explore a forgotten utopia, conquer a fantastical realm, or indulge in your wildest fantasies. (Customization fees apply. Memories created within VR may not be distinguishable from reality.)"

1. Whisper Network Rumor: (Spread through high-society gossip channels)

Product: "The Underground Clinic - Designer Gene Editing"
Details: "Unleash your child's full potential. The Underground Clinic offers discreet, top-secret gene editing to ensure your offspring possess the most desirable traits. (Designer genes come at a premium. Side effects may include unpredictable mutations and uncontrollable genius.)"
These ads cater to the specific desires of the high-society elite in a high-tech, low-life world. They offer exclusivity, forbidden knowledge, and the ability to transcend the limitations of the decaying world around them, all for a hefty price and with a hint of hidden danger.

Continue, try to make more serious ones.

Serious Ads in a High-Tech, Low-Life World (High-Society Edition)

1. Holographic Panel Discussion in a Luxurious Penthouse:

Product: "The Green Horizon Initiative - Sustainable Urban Development"
Panelists: Renowned architects, environmental scientists, and CEOs from leading green tech companies.
Discussion Points: Innovative solutions for vertical farming, self-contained eco-districts, and waste management technologies designed to create cleaner, more sustainable enclaves within the decaying city.
Slogan: "Investing in a greener future. The Green Horizon Initiative seeks to build sustainable havens within the chaos, ensuring a brighter tomorrow for generations to come." (Focuses on the long-term viability of the city and the importance of preserving resources for future generations.)

1. Documentary Screening in a Private Art Gallery:

Film: "Unveiling the Slums: A Call to Action"
Description: A powerful documentary exposing the harsh realities of the lower districts, highlighting the human cost of unchecked technological advancement and social inequality.
Post-Screening Discussion: Moderated by a renowned philanthropist alongside representatives from NGOs and social reform movements.
Call to Action: Donations to support educational programs, infrastructure upgrades, and basic necessities in the slums. (Highlights the societal problems and pushes for progressive change.)

1. Educational AR Program for Children:

Product: "The Knowledge Weavers - Immersive Historical Simulations"
Description: An augmented reality program that allows children to experience pivotal moments in history firsthand. Walk alongside historical figures, explore ancient civilizations, and learn valuable lessons from the past.
Focus: Educating the next generation about the dangers of unchecked technological advancement and the importance of social responsibility. (Promotes critical thinking and historical awareness as a means to prevent repeating past mistakes.)

1. Virtual Charity Gala:

Event: "The Code for Change Gala - Supporting Open-Source Solutions"
Description: A virtual reality charity gala featuring renowned artists, musicians, and thought leaders. Guests can donate to support open-source projects developing solutions for common problems in the city, such as energy distribution, waste management, and cybercrime prevention.
Focus: Harnessing the power of technology for social good and encouraging collaboration towards a more equitable future. (Promotes community engagement and utilizing technology to solve societal challenges.)

1. Architectural Award Ceremony:

Product: "The Salvaged City Awards - Recognizing Innovation in Urban Renewal"
Awarded to: Architects and engineers who have successfully repurposed existing infrastructure or implemented innovative solutions to revitalize decaying areas of the city.
Focus: Highlighting the importance of resourcefulness and creativity in adapting to a challenging environment. (Encourages using existing resources wisely and finding creative solutions to the problems of the decaying city.)

Another, but hiding an evil sinister twist.

Serious Ads with a Sinister Twist (High-Society Edition)

1. Holographic Charity Drive in a High-End Shopping Mall:

Product: "The Cradle Project - Investing in the Future"
Visual: Smiling, healthy children playing in a pristine, futuristic classroom.
Slogan: "Every child deserves a chance to thrive. The Cradle Project provides advanced genetic screening and early intervention to ensure the next generation reaches its full potential." (Twist: The Cradle Project uses genetic engineering to create a subservient, highly intelligent underclass.)

1. VR Documentary Premiere:

Film: "Harmony Through Integration - A Look at the Unified City"
Description: A seemingly heartwarming VR documentary showcasing the seamless integration of the lower districts into the high-society areas. People from all walks of life work and live together in perfect harmony.
Post-Screening Discussion: Moderated by a charismatic government official who emphasizes the importance of social cohesion and the benefits of centralized control. (Twist: The "integration" involves heavy surveillance, mind-altering technology, and the suppression of dissent.)

1. Exclusive Educational Program for Elites:

Product: "The Phoenix Initiative - Cultivating Tomorrow's Leaders"
Description: A prestigious educational program for children of the elite, offering advanced training in technology, governance, and crisis management. Graduates are promised positions of power within the city's ruling elite.
Focus: (Unstated) Conditioning the next generation to maintain the status quo and suppressing any ideas of social reform. (Twist: The program instills a ruthless, elitist ideology that reinforces the societal divisions.)

1. Virtual Reality Talent Show:

Event: "The Forge - Building the Perfect Citizen"
Description: A virtual reality talent show where contestants are judged on their physical and mental fitness, loyalty to the government, and willingness to sacrifice for the greater good. Winners are rewarded with significant privileges and access to exclusive resources.
Focus: (Unstated) Promoting blind obedience and conformity to the government's agenda. (Twist: The "perfect citizen" is a mindless drone, easily manipulated and controlled by the ruling class.)

1. Architectural Award Ceremony (Twisted Edition):

Product: "The Order Award - Recognizing Compliance in Urban Renewal"
Awarded to: Architects and engineers who have successfully transformed lower districts into highly controlled, resource-efficient zones. Individuality and personal expression are discouraged in favor of uniformity and order.
Focus: (Unstated) Maintaining a tight grip on the population and preventing any potential uprisings. (Twist: The "renewal" is designed to weaken and control the lower classes, making them easier to exploit.)
These ads maintain a serious facade that appeals to the upper class' desire for order and control. However, the hidden twist reveals the manipulative and oppressive nature of the society they are trying to preserve.

Now design some high-class consumer level product items.

1. NeuraWeave Headband: This sleek, designer headband is a status symbol for the high-tech elite. It seamlessly integrates with the wearer's neural implant, allowing for subtle control over personal AI assistants, hands-free communication, and even enhanced focus during work or meditation. Hidden Feature: NeuraWeave can subtly collect and analyze the wearer's emotional state, feeding valuable data to targeted advertisers or even government agencies.
2. Eco-Bubble Personal Atmosphere System: Imagine a portable force field that creates a pristine, personalized micro-environment around the wearer. This high-end gadget filters air, regulates temperature, and even projects calming nature sounds, allowing the user to maintain a pocket of luxury amidst the polluted cityscape. Hidden Feature: Eco-Bubble can subtly monitor the wearer's health vitals and transmit them to a central database, potentially used for health insurance adjustments or targeted medical advertisements.
3. Bio-Tailored Clothing: Gone are the days of off-the-rack clothing. This high-end service utilizes advanced bio-scanners and 3D printing technology to create clothing that perfectly molds to the wearer's body, regulates temperature, and even promotes faster healing of minor injuries. Hidden Feature: Bio-Tailored Clothing can subtly collect biometric data like skin temperature and heart rate, potentially used for targeted fitness programs or even mood-altering marketing campaigns.
4. Augmented Reality Personal Chef: This high-tech device projects holographic instructions and culinary techniques directly onto the user's kitchen counter. Imagine whipping up gourmet meals with the guidance of a world-renowned chef, complete with step-by-step visual guides and interactive ingredient identification. Hidden Feature: The AR Personal Chef can subtly track the user's dietary habits and preferences, potentially used to target specific food and beverage companies for advertising or even manipulate their taste buds through subliminal messaging.
5. Luxury Cybernetic Enhancements: Forget clunky prosthetics. These high-end cybernetic limbs are designed to seamlessly blend with the human body, offering enhanced strength, dexterity, and even advanced sensory input. Imagine climbing buildings with ease, playing virtual reality games with unparalleled immersion, or experiencing the world with heightened senses. Hidden Feature: Luxury Cybernetic Enhancements can be subtly integrated with government surveillance systems, allowing for real-time tracking and monitoring of the wearer's movements and activities.

Why would you need a designer headband, when you already have neural implant?

You're absolutely right, a designer headband might seem redundant when you already have a neural implant in a high-tech society. Here are some ways to address that:

1. Fashion and Status Symbol: The NeuraWeave headband could be a designer accessory, a way to showcase wealth and social status. It might be crafted from exotic materials, adorned with precious jewels, or boast a sleek, minimalist design that complements the latest high-fashion trends. The neural implant itself might be hidden, with the headband acting as the visible expression of advanced technology.
2. Enhanced Functionality: While the neural implant offers basic functionality, the NeuraWeave headband could provide a more refined and user-friendly experience. It might offer haptic feedback for better interaction with AI assistants, improved noise cancellation for clearer communication, or even subtle brainwave stimulation to enhance focus or relaxation.
3. Privacy and Security: While the neural implant offers convenience, it might also raise privacy concerns. The NeuraWeave headband could act as a buffer between the implant and external systems, offering a layer of security and allowing users to selectively control the flow of information.
4. Social Etiquette: In a world where everyone has a neural implant, the NeuraWeave headband could become a social etiquette tool. Wearing the headband could signify that the user is open to receiving communication or interacting with AI assistants, while taking it off might indicate a desire for privacy or focused work.
5. Limited Functionality Implants: Not everyone might have access to top-of-the-line neural implants. The NeuraWeave headband could bridge the gap, offering basic functionality for those with older or more limited implants. It could essentially act as an affordable "upgrade" to boost existing technology.

Ultimately, the NeuraWeave headband exists in a world where technology is both essential and aspirational. It goes beyond mere functionality, becoming a way to express personal style, control privacy, and navigate the complex social landscape of a high-tech society.

Now the same, but low-class, available for masses, mass produced.

1. Syn-Flex Headband (Mass-Produced Version): This utilitarian headband is made from a cheap, conductive material that creates a weak neural link. It allows basic interaction with public AI kiosks, like ordering rations or accessing public transportation schedules. The headband's design is simple and utilitarian, often coming in a single, industrial gray color. Hidden Feature: While basic functionality is advertised, the Syn-Flex headband might subtly collect anonymized user data on purchasing habits and travel patterns, potentially used for targeted advertising in public spaces.
2. AirBubble Personal Filter: This bulky, wearable air filter system is a lifeline for those living in the polluted lower districts. It's a mass-produced device with a replaceable filter cartridge and a noisy fan system. While not exactly comfortable, it provides a basic level of air filtration, allowing wearers to breathe a little easier. Hidden Feature: The AirBubble filters might contain embedded tracking chips, subtly logging user location data, potentially used for targeted pollution control measures (or in some cases, manipulation of government reports on air quality).
3. Repli-Wear Clothing Kits: These kits contain pre-cut fabric swatches and basic instructions for creating clothes at home. They're designed to be cheap and adaptable, offering a variety of mix-and-match options to create basic garments. Hidden Feature: The Repli-Wear fabric might contain embedded tracking tags, allowing for identification and potential social credit deductions for those caught wearing "unlicensed" clothing styles.
4. Holo-Chef Lite Projector: This cheap projector displays holographic images of basic recipes and cooking techniques. It lacks the interactivity of the high-end version, but allows users to follow along with simple meals prepared with readily available rations. Hidden Feature: The Holo-Chef Lite projector might subtly promote specific brands of low-quality, processed food rations, potentially influencing dietary choices towards companies that sponsor these devices.
5. Second-Hand Cybernetic Enhancements: These are refurbished or salvaged cybernetic limbs, often clunky and lacking the finesse of luxury models. They offer basic functionality like increased strength or rudimentary prosthetics, but come with the risk of malfunction or compatibility issues. Hidden Feature: Second-Hand Cybernetic Enhancements might contain hidden spyware or tracking devices installed by previous owners, potentially monitoring the wearer's activities or even sabotaging their cybernetic limbs in extreme cases.

These low-class consumer products offer a glimpse into the harsh realities of a high-tech, low-life society. They are cheap, functional, and often come with hidden drawbacks that further disadvantage the underclass.

How bad air quality would be in such setting?

The air quality in a high-tech, low-life society would be catastrophic. Here's a breakdown of the potential problems:

1. Industrial Pollution:

• Unchecked Emissions: Factories prioritizing profit over environmental regulations would pump out unchecked pollutants like sulfur dioxide, nitrogen oxides, and particulate matter (PM).
• Obsolete Technology: Outdated manufacturing processes would be less efficient, leading to higher levels of waste and pollution.

1. Waste Management Issues:

• Mountains of E-waste: Rapid technological advancements would lead to mountains of discarded electronics, many containing toxic materials that leach into the environment.
• Open Burning: Incapable of proper waste disposal, some residents might resort to open burning of trash, releasing harmful toxins and carcinogens into the air.

1. Energy Production:

• Reliance on Fossil Fuels: Expensive renewable energy sources might be neglected in favor of cheaper, dirtier fossil fuels like coal, further worsening air quality.
• Power Grid Instability: A crumbling infrastructure could lead to power outages and reliance on backup generators, adding to the air pollution.

1. Climate Change Effects:

• Heat Island Effect: Densely packed concrete jungles with minimal green spaces would trap heat, contributing to rising temperatures and increased smog formation.
• Acid Rain: The combination of industrial emissions and rising temperatures could lead to acid rain, damaging buildings and vegetation, further hindering air purification.

Living Conditions:

• Constant Smog: A thick haze of smog would likely hang over the city, reducing visibility and causing respiratory problems for residents.
• Limited Outdoor Activities: Air quality would be so bad that spending time outdoors would be hazardous, impacting physical and mental health.
• Dependence on Filtration Systems: Those who can afford them might rely on personal air filters or sealed living spaces, further dividing the classes.

The severity of the air quality would vary depending on the specific setting. Some areas might be industrial wastelands, while others might be slightly better off. However, the overall picture is bleak – this is a society choking on its own technological advancement and disregard for the environment.

Sketch some repli-wear "unlicensed" clothing styles.

Repli-Wear: Unlicensed Clothing Trends

1. The Salvaged Chic:

• Description: A mishmash of salvaged materials and repurposed clothing scraps. Think mismatched patterns, patches from old uniforms, and belts fashioned from recycled tech cables.
• Inspiration: High-society's sleek, minimalist aesthetic, reinterpreted with resourcefulness and rebellion.
• Risks: May attract unwanted attention from authorities who see it as a symbol of dissent.

1. The Glitched-Out Glamour:

• Description: Clothing adorned with intentionally malfunctioning LED lights, flickering pixels, and distorted logos from popular high-end brands.
• Inspiration: A mockery of the high-society's obsession with luxury and technology.
• Risks: May malfunction and cause minor electrical shocks, attracting suspicion from security systems.

1. The Bio-Hazard Chic:

• Description: Clothing dyed with bioluminescent algae or adorned with filtered gas masks and repurposed medical equipment.
• Inspiration: A dark reflection of the polluted environment and a commentary on the societal disregard for health.
• Risks: Bioluminescent algae might attract unwanted attention, especially in the dark.

1. The Cyber-Tribal:

• Description: Clothing incorporating salvaged wires, circuit boards, and other discarded tech components. Think of cybernetic motifs hand-stitched onto worn leather jackets or tribal patterns formed from glowing wires.
• Inspiration: A mashup of traditional craftsmanship and defiance against the dominance of high-tech aesthetics.
• Risks: Might be mistaken for makeshift weapons or attempts to bypass security systems.

1. The Corporate Spy:

• Description: Subtly subverted versions of high-society uniforms. Imagine slightly ripped blazers with mismatched buttons, or high-collared shirts with the logos subtly altered to resemble protest symbols.
• Inspiration: A subtle rebellion against the corporate elite, blending in while making a statement.
• Risks: Might attract suspicion from authorities if the alterations are too obvious.

These are just a few ideas for Repli-Wear styles. Clothing in a high-tech, low-life society would be a way for the underclass to express their individuality, defiance, and limited resources, all while navigating the dangers of a controlling society.

Sketch some repli-wear "licensed" clothing styles, that do not pose any risk for wearers from any concerned sides.

Repli-Wear: Licensed Clothing Trends (Safe Zone)

1. The Vintage Throwback:

• Description: Replicas of historical clothing styles, like classic trench coats, denim jackets, or even floral dresses from a bygone era. Think of vintage fashion filtered through a futuristic lens, with subtle metallic accents or holographic embellishments.
• Appeal: Offers a nostalgic escape from the harsh realities of the present.
• Safety: Historical styles are unlikely to raise suspicion from authorities.

1. The Minimalist Worker:

• Description: Practical, utilitarian clothing designed for maximum comfort and durability. Think of well-made jumpsuits in neutral tones, with reinforced knees and pockets for tools.
• Appeal: Perfect for everyday wear in the lower districts, offering functionality and a clean aesthetic.
• Safety: Promotes a sense of productivity and avoids any controversial symbols.

1. The Nature Enthusiast:

• Description: Clothing with nature-inspired patterns and muted earth tones. Think of shirts with forest camouflage or jackets with subtle leaf prints.
• Appeal: Offers a sense of connection to the natural world, a stark contrast to the polluted cityscape.
• Safety: Nature motifs are unlikely to be seen as a threat by authorities.

1. The Sports Fanatic (Limited Edition):

• Description: Replicas of historical sports jerseys or team logos from a bygone era. Could also feature faded logos of defunct corporations, offering a sense of playful nostalgia.
• Appeal: Allows for a limited display of individuality and team spirit.
• Safety: Historical or defunct logos are unlikely to pose a threat, as long as the license is valid.

1. The Kid's Corner:

• Description: Replicas of popular cartoon characters or children's book illustrations, brightly colored and playful.
• Appeal: Offers a sense of innocence and escapism for children in a harsh environment.
• Safety: Popular children's characters are pre-approved and unlikely to be seen as a threat.

Now the opposite: some high-end high-society high clothing styles.

High-Society Haute Couture in a High-Tech, Low-Life World:

1. Bio-Luminescent Elegance:

• Imagine a flowing gown woven from a special bioluminescent material that emits a soft, ethereal glow, adapting to the wearer's mood and movement.
• The dress could be accented with strategically placed gemstones that amplify the bioluminescence, creating a mesmerizing spectacle.

1. Augmented Reality Couture:

• Dresses and suits with intricate embroidery that, when viewed through special AR glasses, come alive with holographic animations, patterns, or even personalized messages.
• This could be used to display family crests, stock market trends, or even live news feeds, all seamlessly integrated into the clothing.

1. Nanotech Tailoring:

• Clothing that self-adjusts to the wearer's body temperature and preferences. The fabric could be woven with microscopic nanobots that regulate temperature, repel dust, or even release a subtle, personalized fragrance.
• This would offer a level of comfort and personalization that pushes the boundaries of traditional haute couture.

1. Recycled Luxury:

• High-society wouldn't be complete without a touch of eco-consciousness (or at least the appearance of it). Imagine garments meticulously crafted from recycled materials like discarded computer components or salvaged spaceship parts, transformed into stunning evening wear.
• This "waste-to-wear" approach would showcase wealth and environmental responsibility (or at least the image of it).

1. Cybernetic Accents:

• Subtle cybernetic implants seamlessly integrated into clothing. Imagine a dress with a built-in neural interface that allows the wearer to control personal AI assistants with a simple touch or a suit with temperature-regulating implants woven directly into the fabric.
• These high-tech accents would be a subtle yet sophisticated way to showcase wealth and technological advancement.

Bonus: The "Living" Garment:

• A truly outrageous and exclusive garment – a dress or suit composed of a bio-engineered material that appears to be alive. Imagine clothing that shimmers and pulsates with a faint bioluminescence, seemingly breathing and adapting to the wearer's movements.
• This would be the ultimate status symbol, a conversation starter that pushes the boundaries of fashion and technology into the realm of the fantastical.

Reason why I'm changing the title a bit is the fact that there already exists another Pokemon AU (in which the characters are trainers), so I'm changing mine's title for the sake of differentiation.
Okay, so keep in mind, this is all just for fun and may or may not be altered later if I find out it needs reworks for the sake of continuity. (This is why I won't add pictures in the same post bcuz reddit only lets me edit text of the posts without pictures, if you want, I can add pictures such as sketches or little doodles of the AU in the future posts.)
I plan to publish this in short parts, if you would rather have the entire thing published when it's done instead, let me know in the comments!
So, here it is; Pokefied AU story:
PART 1
...
Leena is a pokemon trainer and at firsth she had three pokemon in her team. They were a Nerdbird nicknamed Elijah, a Meolya nicknamed Elisa, and a Zvezdragon nicknamed Anthony and Diplomator (one name for each head).
It all started when she got Elijah. He was like her starter pokemon. He used to belong to a student friend of hers that, once they graduated, realized that they can no longer take care of Elijah the Nerdbird and entrusted him to her.
Shortly after, Leena decided to get Elijah some company so she bought an egg from the Shop and hatched it, which is how she got a Meolya that she nicknamed Elisa. That's why Elijah and Elisa had a sibling-like relationship with Elijah acting as a more experienced and older brother. He vas wery protective of Elisa and always went firsth into every battle.
Leena was very caring of those two, which is why later, when she decided to try and earn some gym badges, she had a hard time introducing other pokemon into the team because they rarley got along with Elijah and Elisa and were sometimes even mean to them. This would become a problem because the other pokemon she caught were often stronger. She wasn't shure why this kept happening. One theory she had is that it's because of the fact that Elijah and Elisa didn't seem to be able to evolve. Leena never really knew what Nerdbird and Meolya are supposted to evolve into, she just knew that they can. However, she didn't want to force them to evolve if they weren't ready, so she decided to not bother them with that and let them take things at their own pace. Weirdest thing about all that is that it seemed that Elijah knew he will have to evolve one day, but it was like he himself also didn't know into what.
After some time and a certain amount of gym badges, Leena managed to catch quite a powerful dragon type pokemon Zvezdragon. She was afraid that she will need to put him into the PC box after some time as well, but was suprised to see how well he got along with the firsth two (especially Elijah). It turns out that Zvezdragon is a kind pokemon that is eager to protect others from opponents that are unjustifiably stronger. He was the team's strongest pokemon and gave them a powerboost they needed.
So he was added to the team as well, which was celebrated by Leena nicknaming each of his heads with a name fitting to their personality: Diplomator and Anthony.
All of them worked so great together, Leena never really needed to add more pokemon to the team.
Untill the accident, of course.
...

Previous Part
I grabbed the back pack Bianca had left in the kitchen and waited in the living room. I had no idea what she was packing for but after this morning I wasn’t going up there to check. I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to ask Tuck yet. I wanted him to tell me he was a werewolf himself, that seemed like pretty important information just on the basis of trust. But I also wanted to know why he was really out by the mine yesterday. His story didn’t add up and there’s no way he knew we would be up there, I think that was just a coincidence. As I was trying to come up with exactly how I wanted to broach the question to Tuck, Frank put a hand on my shoulder. He was wearing his lab coat so I guessed he just came up from the basement. The hairnet he always seemed to wear when he was working was in its usual spot. I suppose he wore it to protect the memory of hair that was once on his head. He looked solemn and a little sick as he turned to me.
“Keep her out of trouble will you? I know we haven’t always been the best to her and I’m sure Stein and I don’t really give her the help she needs. But she’s like the daughter I never had time to have, I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to her.”
“Frank, you probably do more than you know for her. Did she ever talk about her family with you?”
“Very briefly throughout the years, I don’t know if she’s told you much or anything for that matter. It… it certainly wasn’t easy for her growing up and it never got easier.”
“I’ll do my best to keep her out of trouble. If she does end up following me into… whatever this trial ends up being just promise me you’ll have a way to get her out. Some kind of contingency, I can fend for myself but I’ve seen her just shut down before. Like yesterday in the caves someone grabbed her and she lashed out and just… wasn’t herself. She just froze and I don’t want that to happen anywhere near Shaoni.”
“I’ll work on something but I can’t promise that. Like Stein said we’re scientists, we don’t really do field work like that. If I do come up with something you’ll be the first to know. I’m glad she ran into you when she did Keith, she could really use a friend.”
With that Frank walked away, back towards the kitchen and into the basement.
It wasn’t long after that when I heard Bianca coming down the stairs asking if anyone had seen her toothbrush. At which point Rocco appeared in front of me from god knows where holding a suspicious disassembled toothbrush.
“Not. A. Word. Kid.”
Rocco growled at me as he scampered out the door behind me.
“I have a couple that I packed for the trip here from Wisconsin I can just give you one of those.”
I called to Bianca. Partially because I wanted to get a move on and partially because I wanted no part in whatever Rocco was getting up to. If there was one supernatural thing about this town it was that raccoon’s knack for mischief. I get that’s what raccoons are known for but seriously, Rocco was on another level. Bianca reluctantly agreed to take one of the travel tooth brushes I had back at my house. I wasn’t even going to ask why she packed a duffle bag to go a few hundred feet into town and back again.
“Come on we’ll take the bikes again.”
Bianca said as she made her way behind the house.
“I’m telling you they’re going to give me tetanus one of these days but sure. Lets just stop at my place first, I want to drop off this backpack you took yesterday first.”
Bianca was still wearing the ratty jeans she’d taken from me yesterday and at this point I just figured she could have them. I really wasn’t about to get into an argument as to why she should take my pants off and… ugh even saying it is just… no. Those were hers now as far as I was concerned.
We rode over to my house through the crisp autumn afternoon. The trees along the street were finally being to change color, it looked like a scene from a postcard. One of those one’s of the idyllic towns that could’ve come straight out of a hallmark movie. I had to give it to Eagles Peak, it may by turning into a den of vipers for me minute by minute but it sure could be beautiful, in it’s own isolated kind of way.
“Wow its very… small.”
Bianca commented as she stepped into my house and looked around.
“Yeah not everyone has a blank check from two different governments like Stein.”
“I didn’t mean li…”
“It’s ok I know what you meant, its different.”
I said cutting her off before she had the chance to apologize. I dropped off the backpack in my room and rooted around in the one duffle bag I still hadn’t unpacked from my trip here. I found the toothbrush without to much trouble and walked into the living room to give it to Bianca only to find her unpacking on the couch.
“What’s going on here, are you moving in?”
I joked, not expecting the answer I was about to get.
“Yeah, kind of hard to keep an eye on you from my house. I suppose I could from the top floor but if we’re working against Shaoni that doesn’t seem like a great idea. She’s got that whole thing with lighting and I get the sense her being angry at you while your up in the air isn’t a great combination.”
Bianca said, unpacking a blanket like she wasn’t just inserting herself into my house.
“WHAT?”
I shouted, maybe a little too loud.
“Is there a problem?I thought you wanted me looking out for you, this is me, doing that.”
She said looking up at me with puppy dog eyes. You’ve got to understand, those eyes coming from someone like Bianca, glowing or otherwise, well you just can’t say no to that. When it’s Bianca you really can’t say no. She can just take that option away in an instant but again she didn’t for me, it was still my choice.
“I.. sure but you can have my bed. We’ll get everything set up once we get back from the Roost. You did tell Frank and Stein about this right?”
I gave in, deciding to let her stay.
“I’m a big girl, they doin’t need to know everything I do, and… thanks”
“It’s alright, just let me know next time you’re going to pull something like this ok?”
I added, equal parts excited to actually have someone to talk to besides myself in my own home, and worried what Frank and Stein might think was going on here. I put those thoughts out of my head for the moment as we got back on the bikes.
It was about 3 by the time we made it to Tuck’s bar after the delay Bianca had caused by moving herself out before we left. Just as I expected the sign said closed but the door was unlocked. The bar looked exactly the same as the last time I was there. Stone fireplace roaring and pristine wooden floor looking like it had been polished just this morning. Tuck was sitting behind the bar looking worse for wear. The look on his face said he knew we were coming and he wasn’t to thrilled about it.
“Does he know?”
Tuck asked pointedly, looking straight through me and speaking to Bianca.
“About me or you, because the answer is both of us.”
Tuck shook his head at this and a grim look came over him.
“Ya shouldn’t have pulled him into this.”
“Actually I pulled her into it if anything, going out there was my idea. I’ve got a mark like Robert’s, its actually what brought me to town in the first place.”
I said, hoping my honesty would get the same out of Tuck.
“So that bird called ya out here somehow?”
“More or less, but that’s not what I’m here about. I want to know why exactly you followed us out there yesterday.”
Tuck sighed and gestured to the seats at the bar, beckoning Bianca and I to take a seat.
“When Robert chased ya out the other night some of his friends came by. They all got that mark like him, they were sayin’ something about the thunderbird makin’ an appearance back at the old mine. I wanted to see for myself and make sure they were wrong. I found those bikes and ended up followin’ the trail. By the time I got there some guys were poking around that hole in the wall and a storm had kicked up. I saw them cut that rope and figured they weren’t doin’ no good. I… changed and dealt with them then forced my way into the old mine entrance, the rest ya already know cause I ran into ya not long after.”
This story made more sense to me, Tuck never came out there to find me, I just so happened to be out there. Those boulders I thought were moved had been, by Tuck which made me question just how strong he was. Each of those huge things had to weigh tons and there were three strewn about the entrance.
“Ok that makes more sense than what you told me, but what were you hoping to accomplish up there. If you ran into the thunderbird what would you have done?”
“I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t really up there again but the storm seemed to say otherwise. No storm like that just pops up and goes away, the bird had to be involved with that.”
“Actually she was there, just not as some huge bird. She was down in the caves with us but she looked human, native American to be more precise. That’s how I met her when I got marked and now she’s holding some kind of trial out in those mines.”
“You met the thunderbird, its a person? What does she want with this place now.”
Tuck said his demeanor changing into one full of concern. I didn’t know what else to say cause at the moment I didn’t actually know much more than that. It’s infuriating, this being in the dark thing. I just settled for dodging the question.
“Not to change the topic but are we to early to grab a bite to eat?”
I wish I had a camera handy because the face Tuck made at that whiplash change of topics was priceless. I can’t properly do it justice with words. Suffice it to say one of his eyebrows hit the ceiling while the other hit the floor and a violently confused expression plastered his face.
“Sure I guess, what do the two of ya want!”
Tuck exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air and walking back behind the counter. I ended up ordering some fried chicken sandwich with bacon and pickles, and as I took the first bite my risk of heart attack increased ten fold. Bianca ordered the same thing and was pecking at it inquisitively when I asked,
“So what’s the story with Rocco?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean why, why did Frank and Stein make him in the first place?”
I asked through a mouthful of greasy goodness.
“Well I think it started out as a joke, then Stein actually wanted an assistant and that joke became Rocco. They worked on him for a while, pretty much they took a random raccoon off the street and played around in its head. I know there was some gene splicing involved but if you want to know how they did it ask them.”
“So he was supposed to be an assistant in the lab? I think I’ve seen him doing one thing to help them out this whole time and he was poking through a back alley for old batteries.”
“Yeah, he’s not a great assistant, must be good enough though cause they haven’t tossed him out.”
“Are you kidding me! If they tossed him out he be so much worse! Just think, Rocco left to his own devices without any supervision.”
Both of us shuddered at the thought, if he was bad now he’d be a menace to society without the little control we had over him.
Bianca and I ate and eventually Tuck came out and I told him my story about Imalone. He seemed really concerned at the fact that the thunderbird could be walking around town and he wouldn’t know about it. I assured him that Shaoni was really hard to miss if you just looked at the eyes. It wasn’t like she looked any different either, no matter what she was wearing those tattoos would be a dead giveaway. Tuck assured me he was going to keep an eye out and gave me his number to call if I saw her. I don’t want to talk down on Bianca, but something about having a werewolf looking out for me as well was reassuring. Tuck told us a bit about what he was doing with Frank and Stein too. Apparently he contracted his “disease” as he called it long before he came to work in Eagles Peak. He was originally from Louisiana and moved to New York for a change of scenery and ended up getting a job in the mines here around 1940. I should also mention Tuck ages very slowly due to his “disease” so he looks like he’s in his 50’s or so but he was born in 1900. To his credit you’d never know he was anything other than your friendly middle aged bartender.
Bianca and I were getting ready to leave as it came time to open the bar for real. When Tuck offered us a round of drinks on the house.
“No, no that’s alright Tuck, you’ve done enough for us we’ll see you later.”
Bianca politely declined, pulling me towards the door. After I said my goodbyes and we had gotten back to the bikes I asked Bianca,
“Do you not drink? I’m not judging just… when Tuck offered you seemed kind of jumpy.”
“I just never have, I was kind of bouncing around the country when I turned 21 so I just never started.”
“So your telling me you never had your first drink? Well, we have to fix that then.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, its like a right of passage where I’m from. We’ll pick up a six pack or something on the way back but we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”
I said, trying to convince her. I’m not a huge drinker but I am from Wisconsin, alcohol is a way of life out there and we’re know for our beer. In my family turning 21 and having your first drink is cause to bring the whole family together. I couldn’t do that for her but I could at least give her the experience, maybe give her just one more good thing to remember.
Bianca agreed and we pulled into the Save-A-Lot just outside town. The building was painted white bit it was slowly peeling away revealing a concrete grey underneath. The big glowing sign was missing a few letters now simply reading Sav- -Lo. Despite its decaying state it still had the classic beer cave inside. I took a second to look for something from Wisconsin, call me a snob but we do beer right. I settled on a 12 pack of Leinenkugel, that was close enough to home for me. Bianca trailed behind me in the store, a bit like a scared cat looking for a place to hide. Obviously she didn’t get out much and having people she didn’t really know much about was stressing her out somewhat. We got to the checkout and an older cashier eyed my suspiciously.
“Can I see an ID”
She croaked in a hoarse smokey voice. Now I don’t always look my age but I’m 28 there was no reason to try and ID me. That didn’t really bother me so much as the fact that my wallet was still at home. I’ve been spending the cash Bianca gave me back when I watched her house and I just keep that in my pocket. I also have a bad habit of only brining my wallet when I knew I would need it instead of carrying it on me. Regardless I started to sweat a little as I tried to explain the situation.
“You see I would but I left mine at home and I’m not sure if…”
I was cut off by Bianca reaching out and brushing the cashier’s hand Then looking her straight in the eye. I knew exactly what she was doing.
“Look we don’t have an ID for you right now can you just take it on faith?”
“I understand sweetie, here why don’t I cover it for you, my treat.”
The cashier said, turning a complete 180 on her previous question. I looked from Bianca to the old woman a few times before Bianca finally shrugged.
“What?”
I wondered if it was that easy for her to change my mind back when she manipulated me into watching the house.
“So she just payed for it?”
I asked Bianca as we walked back to the bikes.
“That was her, not that I couldn’t make her do that. As far as I can work out, if I suggest something people tend to do it. Over the years I learned how to control that to the point where I’m only able to do it when I want to. Frank said it has something to do with pheromones in my breath or something like that.”
Bianca explained, hoping onto her bike and keeping pace with me back towards my house. I didn’t ask for an explanation but she gave it. I’m not really sure pheromones were something that could have that profound of an effect on someone but I’d just add it to the list of questions I’d have to ask Frank or Stein at some point.
“Still it was a bit weird seeing it from the outside. Was I that easy to convince before?”
Bianca got a mischievous look in her eye.
“Oh, you were so much easier, I barley needed to try. Just flip my hair and flutter my eyes a few times and that was that.”
She said, smiling devilishly at me. I blushed a little bit, partly because that’s probably all it would’ve taken from someone who looked like her and partly because I was embarrassed that she might not just be poking fun at me.
“No you definitely did something to me, I lost like 6 hours in your kitchen! That was you right…right?!”
I asked a little nervous. Bianca just laughed and pedaled off ahead of me. She did not put my mind at ease with any sort of answer but she did beat me back to the house.
When I got in She was sitting on the couch sorting through a pile of movies she pulled out of her duffle bag. She really had just thrown the entire contents of her room into a bag and brought them over. Bianca seemed to settle on a movie before she realized I’d walked in.
“So you like horror?”
I said, gesturing to the same movies I’d seen lying out earlier when I watched her house.
“Yeah, I just like seeing how people think all these things act. Like Tuck, werewolves are always looked at as these big imposing things in movies but he’s a puppy in comparison.”
“The guy looks like he could tear me apart down the middle with his bare hands buuuut, I see your point.”
Thinking back to every interaction I’d had with the guy so far, he never really was as scary as he looked. I sat down on the couch, dropping the case of beer on the coffee table.
“So, have you picked out a movie yet?”
To which Bianca closed her eyes and poked at a random movie in the pile. “Dog Soldiers”, it was called, actually I think I’ve heard of that movie before. One of those its so bad its entertaining things. I popped the movie into my DVD player and sat back, handing Bianca a beer.
“ Is this how normal people feel?”
She asked as the movie started.
“Depends on what you mean by normal, even then I’m not sure that’s the question I’d be asking. Maybe you just finally have a chance to relax after years of never being able to.”
“Oh sure, I’ll just relax now that I know we have the actual thunderbird looking to force you into some kind of trial.”
Bianca joked sarcastically before suddenly softening and taking a sip of her beer.
“Uggg that’s bitter… but not bad. Maybe your onto something Kieth.”
I don’t remember much from the movie. One scene stuck with me, a guy trying to fist fight a werewolf. It was already campy but the effects on the werewolf were just dated enough to make it that much funnier. Bianca and I couldn’t help but to Imagine Tuck as the werewolf, bewildered as to why this scrawny thing thought it could fight him. At some point the beer ran out, Bianca and I making it through the whole case. I remember getting up to go to my own room and Bianca pulling me back. What I didn’t remember though was letting Shaoni into my house. I was woken up by a tap on my shoulder, coming face to face with her. Shaoni’s hand was on one shoulder and Bianca’s head was on the other. At some point we both feel asleep on the couch together, the TV was still on, illuminating the dark room.
“Well well, I wasn’t expecting you to have guests Keith.”
Shaoni mocked, clicking her tongue at me as she finished. She wore the same white night dress I’d seen her in before. Something in the house was open, a window, a door? I didn’t know but the smells of an autumn rainstorm blew into the house, a storm no doubt caused by Shaoni.
“I… its not what it looks like.”
I stammered out, embarrassed to be caught like this.
“I don’t care what you get up to in your free time Keith. I just came to tell you I’ll expect you at the mine tomorrow, The trials will be starting soon and I want everyone who will be participating to meet each other, you will be participating, won’t you Keith?”
She asked like it was a question but it really wasn’t, wether I liked it or not I was going to be there, I could come willingly or kicking and screaming. She was simply asking which I wanted it to be.
“When do you want me there?”
“Oh don’t worry about that, I’ll send someone to collect you around noon.”
With that she turned to walk away, but I wasn’t done with her yet.
“Wait! What exactly are these trials, what am I going to be doing out there?”
“That would spoil the surprise Keith, be patient, you’ll know in time. That pretty little thing there, her name wouldn’t happen to be Bianca, would it?”
Shaoni asked, pointing at Bianca who was still asleep on my shoulder.
“How did you know that?”
I shot back, immediately jumping to Bianca’s defense. I hadn’t known her all that long true, but I didn’t want her any closer to this than she had to be.
“Oh no reason.”
Shaoni said with a snicker that sounded more like a hiss. With that she disappeared, and I mean she was just gone. One minute she was there the next there was a gust of wind and a brief flash of light and she was gone. The disruption was enough to wake Bianca up finally.
“Ugh, head..still…spinning.”
“Heh, I think you overdid it a bit last night.”
“Ugh maybe.”
She said, holding her head that still rested on my shoulder.
“What’s going on anyway, why’d you wake me up.”
“It’s just… well things are moving a bit faster than I hoped.”
I said, trying to reassure her that it was nothing, most likely failing miserably but she didn’t seem to notice. There was a second there that I thought maybe things could just be normal. This whole thing would just blow over and Shaoni would never come back and get me for these “trials” but I always knew it was wishful thinking. Now Bianca was a part of it to somehow, that had made up my mind. She’d been through enough, now Shaoni seemed interested in her all of a sudden. If putting myself through these trials kept her away from Bianca that’s exactly what I’d do.