General
I am looking for a lady between 28 and 35 years old, for a committed monogamous childfree relationship. My goal is to become a true team, supporting each other, caring for each other, nurturing each other and helping each other grow and realise our goals and dreams as much as possible. I'm hoping to find someone that values a relationship as much as I do and takes it seriously. It's not the only thing my life revolves around, but it's also not just something 'nice to have' for me.
I tried to be as concise as possible while still providing what details I think are crucial to know; I realise this post turned out very long, but I prefer those because I can get as good an idea as possible with detailed descriptions, bar actually talking to the person, and find that very valuable, so if that also applies to you, that would be awesome.
Basics
I am 186cm tall, slim/fit built, dark brown hair, brown eyes. Both my arms are tattooed (full sleeve), as are my calves and the areas above my ankles. Regarding pictures see below. I am a runner (ranging from 5k to full marathon), training multiple times a week. I'm also vegan. My love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation. While I am mostly securely attached, withdrawing from me triggers anxiety and I have made a horrible experience with a fearful avoidant partner in the past, so that is something I fear I cannot deal with again.
I am also an atheist.
I am a very warm, soft and sensitive person, I think I am humorous, I am self reflecting a lot and I can also be really passionate and romantic. Those are traits that also are really important to me in a woman.
I can be quite social, I am a good talker, but also love to listen to really get to know someone on a deeper level. I can enjoy an evening out with friends just as much as the silence of sitting at the shores of the river and watching the sunset in solitude (although I've been craving to watch it together with a partner for a really long time now). I can be out in a pub, at a rave, a metal show or in the stadium watching football and have the time of my life, but I cannot do these things every day; I need recharge time (on the sofa, in the woods for a run, a lazy Sunday staying in bed etc.). This should give you an idea; basically, I am a homebody that thoroughly enjoys going out in moderation.
I won't say too much about hobbies; suffice it to say I am into the dark, the obscure, the macabre, the occult, the mysterious, the erotic. It won't surprise you that I had a gothic phase in my youth, bonus points if you did too!
What I am looking for
Although similar hobbies and interests are a plus (and there have to be at least a couple things we have in common), emotional and sexual compatibility are more important to me. I am a very sensitive and emotional person (I do cry easily and by this point I don't think I'll ever be able to change that, sorry), so if you're too, we will definitely understand each other. I need someone who I can open up to (which I do rather quickly, anyway), be myself, bare my soul to and I need these things from you, too. I've had my share of emotionally unavailable women who were afraid of intimacy so I know I can't deal with that again because of the way how those things affect me. I am always emotionally invested with the woman I pursue and in those cases that was to my detriment. But my ability to feel so deep is also something I wouldn't want to change because as of yet, although it's getting harder, I haven't given up on finding someone.
With those emotional needs come two requirements that I found to be vital over the years: First, being able to be silly and cutesy together and to accept each other's inner child and care for it. I am not talking about having to deal with another person's immaturity or inability to perform basic adult skills, rather with the way sadness, hurt, anxiety and being overwhelmed manifests for me (and maybe for you, too?). I need someone who is able to comfort me, to hold me, to allow me to be weak and needy for a while until I've calmed down, and I'm more than ready to offer the same. Your inner child can come out for a while, no problem (: Also in a positive way: Thankfully, today everyone seems to be understanding of the cuteness overload cats (or any animal baby, really) can cause; I need that with a partner. I also still have plushies as comfort animals (some of which in quite a litteral sense as they make for really amazing pillows) and ideally, you do too.
There is a saying that in every relationship, one person is the stronger one. In the past, I have been with women who obviously were stronger than me, but that doesn't mean they always had to be strong, far from it. I certainly, like I said, need to be able to feel protected, but it's not like I'm a particularly needy partner, like everyone, I have my ups and downs, but I can pull my weight and have been told by past partners that I am very caring and that they felt safe and understood with me, and providing that for my partner is really important for me as well – this just to put the picture I'm (somewhat haphazardly) trying to paint into perspective.
Second, sexual compatibility. I have a high libido and I have kinks, so you should, too, in order that we can explore and enjoy them together. I found out how fulfilling living out those fantasies can be after years of never being able to try and in a relationship, sexual fulfillment for both partners is a must for me. Someone on here has coined the term 'filthy best friends and partners' which I have no shame to be stealing because it's such an apt description.
I'm looking for a balance between healthy independence and being emotionally present. A relationship where we 'get' each other; we're both each other's number one and treat each other like royalty. Where a disagreement leads to more intimacy between us as we understand better, not to resentment. Where we're comfortable baring our souls to each other, becoming a safe haven and secure base for each other. I don't like the modern notion that you 'should never feel too safe in a relationship' because that sounds like running from the mafia (and believe me, I love mafia movies); you should always put in effort, yes, but safety is one of the things I always want to experience and provide in a relationship. We shouldn't fear that a disagreement leads straight to breakup. I know ‘self-sufficiency’ is trending right now, but I feel like as partners, we’re partly responsible for each other and not our own but also each other’s happiness. Being dependant and dependable at the same time is important; making each other’s wellbeing a priority. I love the relationship model outlined in Stan Tatkin’s ‘Wired for Love’ and you should, too. If you’re not able to healthily depend on someone and their support while you’re having a hard time, look elsewhere. I know codependency is the latest thing everyone’s afraid of, but experiencing someone you’ve grown very attached to just bailing because they’re counterdependent and can’t stand working on themselves while simultaneously letting you in is something I’d rather not go through again. If I have to be afraid you’ll run at the first major problem that surfaces, even if it’s a ‘you’-problem, it’s not going to work. I think that all things can and need to be talked about. If you think ignoring someone for days is a form of communication, please look elsewhere. If you think’s it’s okay to lovebomb someone and then leave after a couple of months with the minimum amount of information and no proper conversation because you’re not ready to own up to what’s happening to you emotionally, please look elsewhere.
I am looking for someone real. We all have our problems, I don't want or need a 'perfect' person. You don't have everything figured out or 'all your shit' together. Be imperfect. Admit when you feel sad and angry, lonely, hopeless or even helpless – it's all relatable. Don't hide it. Be quirky, be dorky, be witchy, be opinionated, be yourself. Don't pretend.
I'm looking for someone to share romance with. Not great gestures, but small, meaningful ones. Poems for each other, expressing our feelings; cards with heartfelt messages that we put our perfume/cologne on, and a symbol that means something to us only, the print of your lips with lipstick, the way I sign and seal my letters for you.
Just as important to me is agreeing on living a healthy life, staying in shape both for ourselves and for each other, regularly working out and eating healthy. I am drug and disease-free and expect the same of you. I do drink as I love a good beer or glass of wine, rum or whiskey, but I've never really been drinking much and especially during the past year have further reduced it. One vice I have is that I enjoy a couple of cigars a year, but I can definitely accommodate you in this regard.
Another important point is aligned life goals: many childfree people seem to be adventurous, but that is a trait I don't associate with myself at all. I value safety more than adventure. I want to build a home together with my partner, a safespace for the both of us, where we always feel loved and protected, a place that we create together, make it cozy together so we just love to get back home there wherever we might have been, a home we decorate together for Halloween (my favourite holiday) or Christmas or Springtime, as we live in tune with the seasons, seeing them change around us, enjoying nature on a walk or the rain outside, reading in our cozy home. I value stability and harmony.
Appearance-wise, I am into ladies on the smaller side (albeit not regarding height), so I'm looking for someone petite/slim/skinny/healthy-fit. Likewise, I am not really muscular and don't have visible abs; like I said, I'm a runner, so if you're more into the gym-type, I'm not a good fit.
The natural progression for me would be to move from text to voice calls, videochat and then meeting up, all of that rather sooner than later. Not that there’s a need to rush anything, but having my heart broken because I already developed feelings due to a longer timeframe and then everything unexpectedly turning to shit is not something I want to have to live through again. I’d rather see earlier if we’re compatible or not; as someone who catches feelings fast I need to protect myself, I unfortunately had to learn that
Caveats/Possible red flags

• I don't like travelling as it stresses me out; I don't mind being somewhere else for a week or two, but the organisation part of it drains my energy very quickly and dealing with stuff that doesn't work out is overwhelming to me. Smaller trips are ok, but I'm not the right person to travel the world with.
• I am not the most awake person in the morning (i.e. I identify as nightowl)
• I need space for my own projects/time to recharge after social interaction.
• While I feel like I am in tune with my inner child and working on/with it through therapy, I realise this is something that could be a turn-off for people.
• I have been diagnosed with depressive episodes in the past and am taking anti-depressants right now. I realise that I am a work in progress, maybe more so than in times past, but I manage and the fact that I'm putting myself out here is based on me being ready to get to know someone new.
• I want to create a home together here, as I'm firmly rooted where I was born; I realise this is a lot to ask, but I have seen many people here being open to moving, so I want to at least try reaching out to them.

If you're interested, feel free to message me and include some pictures of yourself and I will reply with my own. Have a nice day (:

"Why Did Jesus Die on the Cross?"

The main reason Jesus died on the cross was to defeat Satan and set us free from his oppressive rule. Everything else that Jesus accomplished was to be understood as an aspect and consequence of this victory (e.g., Recapitulation, Moral Influence, etc.).
This understanding of why Jesus had to die is called the Christus Victor (Latin for “Christ is Victorious”) view of the atonement. But, what exactly was Christ victorious from, and why? To find out the answers to these questions, we have to turn to the Old Testament, as that's what the apostles would often allude to in order to properly teach their audience the message they were trying to convey (Rom. 15:4).
The OT is full of conflict between the Father (YHVH) and false gods, between YHVH and cosmic forces of chaos. The Psalms speak of this conflict between YHVH and water monsters of the deeps (an ancient image for chaos) (Psa. 29:3-4; 74:10-14; 77:16, 19; 89:9-10; 104:2-9, etc).
The liberation of Israel from Egypt wasn’t just a conflict between Pharaoh and Moses. It was really between YHVH and the false gods of Egypt.
Regardless of whether you think the aforementioned descriptions are literal or metaphorical, the reality that the Old Testament describes is that humanity lived in a “cosmic war zone.”
The Christus Victor motif is about Christ reigning victorious over wicked principalities and Satan's kingdom, and is strongly emphasized throughout the New Testament. Scripture declares that Jesus came to drive out "the prince of this world” (John 12:31), to “destroy the works of the devil” (1 John 3:8), to “destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil” (Heb. 2:14) and to “put all enemies under his feet” (1 Cor 15:25). Jesus came to overpower the “strong man” (Satan) who held the world in bondage and worked with his Church to plunder his "palace" (Luke 11:21-22). He came to end the reign of the cosmic “thief” who seized the world to “steal, and to kill, and to destroy” the life YHVH intended for us (John 10:10). Jesus came and died on the cross to disarm “the principalities and powers” and make a “shew of them openly [i.e., public spectacle]” by “triumphing over them in [the cross]” (Col. 2:15).
Beyond these explicit statements, there are many other passages that express the Christus Victor motif as well. For example, the first prophecy in the Bible foretells that a descendent of Eve (Jesus) would crush the head of the serpent (Gen. 3:15). The first Christian sermon ever preached proclaimed that Jesus in principle conquered all YHVH's enemies (Acts 2:32-36). And the single most frequently quoted Old Testament passage by New Testament authors is Psalm 110:1 which predicts that Christ would conquer all YHVH’s opponents. (Psalm 110 is quoted or alluded to in Matthew 22:41-45; 26:64, Mark 12:35-37; 14:62, Luke 20:41-44; 22:69, Acts 5:31; 7:55-56, Romans 8:34, 1st Corinthians 15:22-25, Ephesians 1:20, Hebrews 1:3; 1:13; 5:6, 10; 6:20; 7:11, 15, 17, 21; 8:1; 10:12-13, 1st Peter 3:22, and Revelation 3:21.) According to New Testament scholar Oscar Cullman, the frequency with which New Testament authors cite this Psalm is the greatest proof that Christ’s “victory over the angel powers stands at the very center of early Christian thought.”
Because of man's rebellion, the Messiah's coming involved a rescue mission that included a strategy for vanquishing the powers of darkness.
Since YHVH is a God of love who gives genuine “say-so” to both angels and humans, YHVH rarely accomplishes His providential plans through coercion. YHVH relies on His infinite wisdom to achieve His goals. Nowhere is YHVH's wisdom put more on display than in the manner in which He outsmarted Satan and the powers of evil, using their own evil to bring about their defeat.
Most readers probably know the famous story from ancient Greece about the Trojan Horse. To recap the story, Troy and Greece had been locked in a ten-year-long vicious war when, according to Homer and Virgil, the Greeks came up with a brilliant idea. They built an enormous wooden horse, hid soldiers inside and offered it to the Trojans as a gift, claiming they were conceding defeat and going home. The delighted Trojans accepted the gift and proceeded to celebrate by drinking themselves into a drunken stupor. When night came and the Trojan warriors were too wasted to fight, the Greeks exited the horse, unlocked the city gates to quietly let all their compatriots in, and easily conquered the city, thus winning the war.
Historians debate whether any of this actually happened. But either way, as military strategies go, it’s brilliant.
Now, there are five clues in the New Testament that suggest YHVH was using something like this Trojan Horse strategy against the powers when he sent Jesus into the world:
1) The Bible tells us that YHVH's victory over the powers of darkness was achieved by the employment of YHVH’s wisdom, and was centered on that wisdom having become reality in Jesus Christ (Rom. 16:25, 1 Cor. 2:7, Eph. 3:9-10, Col. 1:26). It also tells us that, for some reason, this Christ-centered wisdom was kept “secret and hidden” throughout the ages. It’s clear from this that YHVH's strategy was to outsmart and surprise the powers by sending Jesus.
2) While humans don’t generally know Jesus’ true identity during his ministry, demons do. They recognize Jesus as the Son of God, the Messiah, but, interestingly enough, they have no idea what he’s doing (Mark 1:24; 3:11; 5:7, Luke 8:21). Again, the wisdom of YHVH in sending Jesus was hidden from them.
3) We’re told that, while humans certainly share in the responsibility for the crucifixion, Satan and the powers were working behind the scenes to bring it about (John 13:27 cf. 1 Cor. 2:6-8). These forces of evil helped orchestrate the crucifixion.
4) We’re taught that if the “princes of this world [age]” had understood the secret wisdom of YHVH, “they would not have crucified the Lord of glory” (1 Cor 2:8 cf. vss 6-7). Apparently, Satan and the powers regretted orchestrating Christ’s crucifixion once they learned of the wisdom of YHVH that was behind it.
5) Finally, we can begin to understand why the powers came to regret crucifying “the Lord of glory” when we read that it was by means of the crucifixion that the “handwriting of ordinances that was against us, which was contrary to us [i.e., the charge of our legal indebtedness]” was “[taken] out of the way [i.e., canceled]” as the powers were disarmed. In this way Christ “triumph[ed] over” the powers by "his cross” and even “made a shew of them openly” (Col. 2:14-15). Through Christ’s death and resurrection YHVH's enemies were vanquished and placed under his Messiah's feet, and ultimately His own in the end (1 Cor. 15:23-28).
Putting these five clues together, we can discern YHVH's Trojan Horse strategy in sending Jesus.
The powers couldn’t discern why Jesus came because YHVH's wisdom was hidden from them. YHVH's wisdom was motivated by unfathomable love, and since Satan and the other powers were evil, they lacked the capacity to understand it. Their evil hearts prevented them from suspecting what YHVH was up to.
What the powers did understand was that Jesus was mortal. This meant he was killable. Lacking the capacity to understand that this was the means by which YHVH would ultimately bring about the defeat of death (and thus, pave the road for the resurrection itself), they never suspected that making Jesus vulnerable to their evil might actually be part of YHVH's infinitely wise plan.
And so they took the bait (or "ransom"; Matt. 20:28, Mark 10:45, 1 Tim. 2:5-6). Utilizing Judas and other willing human agents, the powers played right into YHVH’s secret plan and orchestrated the crucifixion of the Messiah (Acts 2:22-23; 4:28). YHVH thus brilliantly used the self-inflicted incapacity of evil to understand love against itself. And, like light dispelling darkness, the unfathomably beautiful act of YHVH's love in sending the willing Messiah as a "ransom" to these blood-thirsty powers defeated them. The whole creation was in principle freed and reconciled to YHVH, while everything written against us humans was nailed to the cross, thus robbing the powers of the only legal claim they had on us. They were “spoiled [i.e., disempowered]” (Col. 2:14-15).
As happened to the Trojans in accepting the gift from the Greeks, in seizing on Christ’s vulnerability and orchestrating his crucifixion, the powers unwittingly cooperated with YHVH to unleash the one power in the world that dispels all evil and sets captives free. It’s the power of self-sacrificial love.

Why Penal Substitution Is Unbiblical

For the sake of keeping this already lengthy post as short as possible I'm not going to spend too much time on why exactly PSA (Penal Substitutionary Atonement) is inconsistent with Scripture, but I'll go ahead and point out the main reasons why I believe this is so, and let the reader look further into this subject by themselves, being that there are many resources out there which have devoted much more time than I ever could here in supporting this premise.

"Purge out therefore the old leaven, that ye may be a new lump, as ye are unleavened. For even Christ our passover is sacrificed for us:"-1 Corinthians 5:7

The Passover is one of the two most prominent images in the New Testament given as a comparison to Christ's atonement and what it accomplished, (the other most common image being the Day of Atonement sacrifice).
In the Passover, the blood of the lamb on the door posts of the Hebrews in the book of Exodus was meant to mark out those who were YHVH's, not be a symbol of PSA, as the lamb itself was not being punished by God in place of the Hebrews, but rather the kingdom of Egypt (and thus, allegorically speaking, the kingdom of darkness which opposed YHVH) was what was being judged and punished, because those who were not "covered" by the blood of the lamb could be easily identified as not part of God's kingdom/covenant and liberated people.
Looking at the Day of Atonement sacrifice (which, again, Christ's death is repeatedly compared to throughout the New Testament), this ritual required a ram, a bull, and two goats (Lev. 16:3-5). The ram was for a burnt offering intended to please God (Lev. 16:3-4). The bull served as a sin offering for Aaron, the high priest, and his family. In this case, the sin offering restored the priest to ritual purity, allowing him to occupy sacred space and be near YHVH’s presence. Two goats taken from "the congregation” were needed for the single sin offering for the people (Lev. 16:5). So why two goats?
The high priest would cast lots over the two goats, with one chosen as a sacrifice “for the Lord” (Lev. 16:8). The blood of that goat would purify the people. The second goat was not sacrificed or designated “for the Lord.” On the contrary, this goat—the one that symbolically carried the sins away from the camp of Israel into the wilderness—was “for Azazel” (Lev. 16:8-10).
What—or who—is Azazel?
The Hebrew term azazel (עזאזל) occurs four times in Leviticus 16 but nowhere else in most people's canon of the Bible, (and I say "most people's canon," because some people do include 1 Enoch in their canon of Scripture, which of course goes into great detail about this "Azazel" figure). Many translations prefer to translate the term as a phrase, “the goat that goes away,” which is the same idea conveyed in the King James Version’s “scapegoat.” Other translations treat the word as a name: Azazel. The “scapegoat” option is possible, but since the phrase “for Azazel” parallels the phrase “for YHVH” (“for the Lord”), the wording suggests that two divine figures are being contrasted by the two goats.
A strong case can be made for translating the term as the name Azazel. Ancient Jewish texts show that Azazel was understood as a demonic figure associated with the wilderness. The Mishnah (ca. AD 200; Yoma 6:6) records that the goat for Azazel was led to a cliff and pushed over, ensuring it would not return with its death. This association of the wilderness with evil is also evident in the New Testament, as this was where Jesus met the devil (Matt. 4:1). Also, in Leviticus 17:1-7 we learn that some Israelites had been accustomed to sacrificing offerings to "devils" (alternatively translated as “goat demons”). The Day of Atonement replaced this illegitimate practice.
The second goat was not sent into the wilderness as a sacrifice to a foreign god or demon. The act of sending the live goat out into the wilderness, which was unholy ground, was to send the sins of the people where they belonged—to the demonic domain. With one goat sacrificed to bring purification and access to YHVH and one goat sent to carry the people’s sins to the demonic domain, this annual ritual reinforced the identity of the true God and His mercy and holiness.
When Jesus died on the cross for all of humanity’s sins, he was crucified outside the city, paralleling the sins of the people being cast to the wilderness via the goat to Azazel. Jesus died once for all sinners, negating the need for this ritual.
As previously stated, the goat which had all the sin put on it was sent alive off to the wilderness, while the blood of the goat which was blameless was used to purify the temple and the people. Penal substitution would necessitate the killing of the goat which had the sin put on it.
Mind you, this is the only sacrificial ritual of any kind in the Torah in which sins are placed on an animal. The only time it happens is this, and that animal is not sacrificed. Most PSA proponents unwittingly point to this ritual as evidence of their view, despite it actually serving as evidence to the contrary, because most people don't read their Old Testament and don't familiarize themselves with the "boring parts" like Leviticus (when it's actually rather important to do so, since that book explains how exactly animal offerings were to be carried out and why they were done in the first place).
In the New Testament, Christ's blood was not only meant to mark out those who were his, but also expel the presence of sin and ritual uncleanness so as to make the presence of YHVH manifest in the believer's life. Notice how God's wrath isn't poured out on Christ in our stead on this view, but rather His wrath was poured out on those who weren't covered, and the presence of sin and evil were merely removed by that which is pure and blameless (Christ's blood) for the believer.
All this is the difference between expiation and propitiation.

The Content of Paul's Gospel Message

When the New Testament writers talked about “the gospel,” they referred not to the Protestant doctrine of justification sola fide–the proposition that if we will stop trying to win God’s favor and only just believe that God has exchanged our sin for Christ’s perfect righteousness, then in God’s eyes we will have the perfect righteousness required both for salvation and for assuaging our guilty consciences–but rather they referred to the simple but explosive proposition Kyrios Christos, “Christ is Lord.” That is to say, the gospel was, properly speaking, the royal announcement that Jesus of Nazareth was the God of Israel’s promised Messiah, the King of kings and Lord of lords.
The New Testament writers were not writing in a cultural or linguistic vacuum and their language of euangelion (good news) and euangelizomai would have been understood by their audience in fairly specific ways. Namely, in the Greco-Roman world for which the New Testament authors wrote, euangelion/euangelizomai language typically had to do with either A) the announcement of the accession of a ruler, or B) the announcement of a victory in battle, and would probably have been understood along those lines.
Let’s take the announcements of a new ruler first. The classic example of such a language is the Priene Calendar Inscription, dating to circa 9 BC, which celebrates the rule (and birthday) of Caesar Augustus as follows:
"It was seeming to the Greeks in Asia, in the opinion of the high priest Apollonius of Menophilus Azanitus: Since Providence, which has ordered all things of our life and is very much interested in our life, has ordered things in sending Augustus, whom she filled with virtue for the benefit of men, sending him as a savior [soter] both for us and for those after us, him who would end war and order all things, and since Caesar by his appearance [epiphanein] surpassed the hopes of all those who received the good tidings [euangelia], not only those who were benefactors before him, but even the hope among those who will be left afterward, and the birthday of the god [he genethlios tou theou] was for the world the beginning of the good tidings [euangelion] through him; and Asia resolved it in Smyrna."
The association of the term euangelion with the announcement of Augustus’ rule is clear enough and is typical of how this language is used elsewhere. To give another example, Josephus records that at the news of the accession of the new emperor Vespasian (69 AD) “every city kept festival for the good news (euangelia) and offered sacrifices on his behalf.” (The Jewish War, IV.618). Finally, a papyrus dating to ca. 498 AD begins:
"Since I have become aware of the good news (euangeliou) about the proclamation as Caesar (of Gaius Julius Verus Maximus Augustus)…"
This usage occurs also in the Septuagint, the Greek translations of the Jewish Scriptures. For instance LXX Isaiah 52:7 reads, “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news (euangelizomenou), who publishes peace, who brings good news (euangelizomenos) of salvation, who says to Zion, ‘Your God reigns.'" Similarly, LXX Isaiah 40:9-10 reads:

"…Go up on a high mountain, you who bring good tidings (ho euangelizomenos) to Sion; lift up your voice with strength, you who bring good tidings (ho euangelizomenos); lift it up, do not fear; say to the cities of Ioudas, “See your God!” Behold, the Lord comes with strength, and his arm with authority (kyrieias)…."-NETS, Esaias 40:9-10

This consistent close connection between euangelion/euangelizomai language and announcements of rule strongly suggests that many of the initial hearers/readers of the early Christians’ evangelical language would likely have understood that language as the announcement of a new ruler (see, e.g., Acts 17:7), and, unless there is strong NT evidence to the contrary, we should presume that the NT writers probably intended their language to be so understood.
However, the other main way in which euangelion/euangelizomai language was used in the Greco-Roman world was with reference to battle reports, announcements of victory in war. A classic example of this sort of usage can be found in LXX 2 Samuel 18:19ff, where David receives word that his traitorous son, Absalom, has been defeated in battle. Euangelion/euangelizomai is used throughout the passage for the communications from the front.
As already shown throughout this post, the NT speaks of Jesus’s death and resurrection as a great victory over the powers that existed at that time and, most importantly, over death itself. Jesus’ conquest of the principalities and powers was the establishment of his rule and comprehensive authority over heaven and earth, that is, of his Lordship over all things (again, at that time).
This was the content of Paul's gospel message...

Justification, and the "New" Perspective on Paul

The following quotation is from The Gospel Coalition, and I believe it to be a decently accurate summary of the NPP (New Perspective on Paul), despite it being from a source which is in opposition to it:

The New Perspective on Paul, a major scholarly shift that began in the 1980s, argues that the Jewish context of the New Testament has been wrongly understood and that this misunderstand[ing] has led to errors in the traditional-Protestant understanding of justification. According to the New Perspective, the Jewish systems of salvation were not based on works-righteousness but rather on covenantal nomism, the belief that one enters the people of God by grace and stays in through obedience to the covenant. This means that Paul could not have been referring to works-righteousness by his phrase “works of the law”; instead, he was referring to Jewish boundary markers that made clear who was or was not within the people of God. For the New Perspective, this is the issue that Paul opposes in the NT. Thus, justification takes on two aspects for the New Perspective rather than one; initial justification is by faith (grace) and recognizes covenant status (ecclesiology), while final justification is partially by works, albeit works produced by the Spirit.

I believe what's called the "new perspective" is actually rather old, and that the Reformers' view of Paul is what is truly new, being that the Lutheran understanding of Paul is simply not Biblical.
The Reformation perspective understands Paul to be arguing against a legalistic Jewish culture that seeks to earn their salvation through works. However, supporters of the NPP argue that Paul has been misread. We contend he was actually combating Jews who were boasting because they were God's people, the "elect" or the "chosen ones." Their "works," so to speak, were done to show they were God's covenant people and not to earn their salvation.
The key questions involve Paul’s view(s) of the law and the meaning of the controversy in which Paul was engaged. Paul strongly argued that we are “justified by the faith of Christ, and not by the works of the law” (Gal. 2:16b). Since the time of Martin Luther, this has been understood as an indictment of legalistic efforts to merit favor before God. Judaism was cast in the role of the medieval "church," and so Paul’s protests became very Lutheran, with traditional-Protestant theology reinforced in all its particulars (along with its limitations) as a result. In hermeneutical terms, then, the historical context of Paul’s debate will answer the questions we have about what exactly the apostle meant by the phrase "works of the law," along with other phrases often used as support by the Reformers for their doctrine of Sola Fide (justification by faith alone), like when Paul mentions "the righteousness of God."
Obviously an in-depth analysis of the Pauline corpus and its place in the context of first-century Judaism would take us far beyond the scope of this brief post. We can, however, quickly survey the topography of Paul’s thought in context, particularly as it has emerged through the efforts of recent scholarship, and note some salient points which may be used as the basis of a refurbished soteriology.
[Note: The more popular scholars associated with the NPP are E.P. Sanders, James Dunn, and N.T. Wright. Dunn was the first to coin the term "The New Perspective" in a 1983 Manson Memorial Lecture, The New Perspective on Paul and the Law.]
Varying authors since the early 1900's have brought up the charge that Paul was misread by those in the tradition of Martin Luther and other Protestant Reformers. Yet, it wasn't until E.P. Sanders' 1977 book, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, that scholars began to pay much attention to the issue. In his book, Sanders argues that the Judaism of Paul's day has been wrongly criticized as a religion of "works-salvation" by those in the Protestant tradition.
A fundamental premise in the NPP is that Judaism was actually a religion of grace. Sander's puts it clearly:
"On the point at which many have found the decisive contrast between Paul and Judaism - grace and works - Paul is in agreement with Palestinian Judaism... Salvation is by grace but judgment is according to works'...God saves by grace, but... within the framework established by grace he rewards good deeds and punishes transgression." (Paul and Palestinian Judaism, p. 543)
N.T. Wright adds that, "we have misjudged early Judaism, especially Pharisaism, if we have thought of it as an early version of Pelagianism," (Wright, What Saint Paul Really Said, p. 32).
Sanders has coined a now well-known phrase to describe the character of first-century Palestinian Judaism: “covenantal nomism.” The meaning of “covenantal nomism” is that human obedience is not construed as the means of entering into God’s covenant. That cannot be earned; inclusion within the covenant body is by the grace of God. Rather, obedience is the means of maintaining one’s status within the covenant. And with its emphasis on divine grace and forgiveness, Judaism was never a religion of legalism.
If covenantal nomism was operating as the primary category under which Jews understood the Law, then when Jews spoke of obeying commandments, or when they required strict obedience of themselves and fellow Jews, it was because they were "keeping the covenant," rather than out of legalism.
More recently, N.T. Wright has made a significant contribution in his little book, What Saint Paul Really Said. Wright’s focus is the gospel and the doctrine of justification. With incisive clarity he demonstrates that the core of Paul’s gospel was not justification by faith, but the death and resurrection of Christ and his exaltation as Lord. The proclamation of the gospel was the proclamation of Jesus as Lord, the Messiah who fulfilled Israel’s expectations. Romans 1:3-4, not 1:16-17, is the gospel, contrary to traditional thinking. Justification is not the center of Paul’s thought, but an outworking of it:
"[T]he doctrine of justification by faith is not what Paul means by ‘the gospel’. It is implied by the gospel; when the gospel is proclaimed, people come to faith and so are regarded by God as members of his people. But ‘the gospel’ is not an account of how people get saved. It is, as we saw in an earlier chapter, the proclamation of the lordship of Jesus Christ….Let us be quite clear. ‘The gospel’ is the announcement of Jesus’ lordship, which works with power to bring people into the family of Abraham, now redefined around Jesus Christ and characterized solely by faith in him. ‘Justification’ is the doctrine which insists that all those who have this faith belong as full members of this family, on this basis and no other." (pp. 132, 133)
Wright brings us to this point by showing what “justification” would have meant in Paul’s Jewish context, bound up as it was in law-court terminology, eschatology, and God’s faithfulness to God’s covenant.
Specifically, Wright explodes the myth that the pre-Christian Saul was a pious, proto-Pelagian moralist seeking to earn his individual passage into heaven. Wright capitalizes on Paul’s autobiographical confessions to paint rather a picture of a zealous Jewish nationalist whose driving concern was to cleanse Israel of Gentiles as well as Jews who had lax attitudes toward the Torah. Running the risk of anachronism, Wright points to a contemporary version of the pre-Christian Saul: Yigal Amir, the zealous Torah-loyal Jew who assassinated Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin for exchanging Israel’s land for peace. Wright writes:
"Jews like Saul of Tarsus were not interested in an abstract, ahistorical system of salvation... They were interested in the salvation which, they believed, the one true God had promised to his people Israel." (pp. 32, 33)
Wright maintains that as a Christian, Paul continued to challenge paganism by taking the moral high ground of the creational monotheist. The doctrine of justification was not what Paul preached to the Gentiles as the main thrust of his gospel message; it was rather “the thing his converts most needed to know in order to be assured that they really were part of God’s people” after they had responded to the gospel message.
Even while taking the gospel to the Gentiles, however, Paul continued to criticize Judaism “from within” even as he had as a zealous Pharisee. But whereas his mission before was to root out those with lax attitudes toward the Torah, now his mission was to demonstrate that God’s covenant faithfulness (righteousness) has already been revealed in Jesus Christ.
At this point Wright carefully documents Paul’s use of the controversial phrase “God’s righteousness” and draws out the implications of his meaning against the background of a Jewish concept of justification. The righteousness of God and the righteousness of the party who is “justified” cannot be confused because the term bears different connotations for the judge than for the plaintiff or defendant. The judge is “righteous” if his or her judgment is fair and impartial; the plaintiff or defendant is “righteous” if the judge rules in his or her favor. Hence:
"If we use the language of the law court, it makes no sense whatsoever to say that the judge imputes, imparts, bequeaths, conveys or otherwise transfers his righteousness to either the plaintiff or the defendant. Righteousness is not an object, a substance or a gas which can be passed across the courtroom. For the judge to be righteous does not mean that the court has found in his favor. For the plaintiff or defendant to be righteous does not mean that he or she has tried the case properly or impartially. To imagine the defendant somehow receiving the judge’s righteousness is simply a category mistake. That is not how the language works." (p. 98)
However, Wright makes the important observation that even with the forensic metaphor, Paul’s theology is not so much about the courtroom as it is about God’s love.
Righteousness is not an impersonal, abstract standard, a measuring-stick or a balancing scale. That was, and still is, a Greek view. Righteousness, Biblically speaking, grows out of covenant relationship. We forgive because we have been forgiven (Matt. 18:21-35); “we love" because God “first loved us” (1 John 4:19). Love is the fulfillment of the law (Rom. 13:8, 10, Gal 5:14, Jam. 2:8). Paul even looked forward to a day when “we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ; that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad” (2 Cor. 5:10), and he acknowledged that his clear conscience did not necessarily ensure this verdict (1 Cor. 4:4), but he was confident nevertheless. Paul did in fact testify of his clear conscience: “For our rejoicing is this, the testimony of our conscience, that in simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom, but by the grace of God, we have had our conversation [i.e., behavior] in the world, and more abundantly to you-ward” (2 Cor. 1:12). He was aware that he had not yet “attained” (Phil. 3:12-14), that he still struggled with the flesh, yet he was confident of the value of his performance (1 Cor. 9:27). These are hardly the convictions of someone who intends to rest entirely on the merits of an alien righteousness imputed to his or her account.
Wright went on to flesh out the doctrine of justification in Galatians, Philippians, and Romans. The “works of the law” are not proto-Pelagian efforts to earn salvation, but rather “sabbath [keeping], food-laws, circumcision” (p. 132). Considering the controversy in Galatia, Wright writes:
"Despite a long tradition to the contrary, the problem Paul addresses in Galatians is not the question of how precisely someone becomes a Christian, or attains to a relationship with God….The problem he addresses is: should his ex-pagan converts be circumcised or not? Now this question is by no means obviously to do with the questions faced by Augustine and Pelagius, or by Luther and Erasmus. On anyone’s reading, but especially within its first-century context, it has to do quite obviously with the question of how you define the people of God: are they to be defined by the badges of Jewish race, or in some other way? Circumcision is not a ‘moral’ issue; it does not have to do with moral effort, or earning salvation by good deeds. Nor can we simply treat it as a religious ritual, then designate all religious ritual as crypto-Pelagian good works, and so smuggle Pelagius into Galatia as the arch-opponent after all. First-century thought, both Jewish and Christian, simply doesn’t work like that…. [T]he polemic against the Torah in Galatians simply will not work if we ‘translate’ it into polemic either against straightforward self-help moralism or against the more subtle snare of ‘legalism’, as some have suggested. The passages about the law only work — and by ‘work’ I mean they will only make full sense in their contexts, which is what counts in the last analysis — when we take them as references to the Jewish law, the Torah, seen as the national charter of the Jewish race." (pp. 120-122)
The debate about justification, then, “wasn’t so much about soteriology as about ecclesiology; not so much about salvation as about the church.” (p. 119)
To summarize the theology of Paul in his epistles, the apostle mainly spent time arguing to those whom he were sending letters that salvation in Christ was available to all men without distinction. Jews and Gentiles alike may accept the free gift; it was not limited to any one group. Paul was vehement about this, especially in his letter to the Romans. As such, I will finish this post off by summarizing the letter itself, so as to provide Biblical support for the premises of the NPP and for what the scholars I referenced have thus far argued.
After his introduction in the epistle to an already believing and mostly Gentile audience (who would've already been familiar with the gospel proclaimed in verses 3-4), Paul makes a thematic statement in 1:16: “For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ: for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth; to the Jew first, and also to the Greek.” This statement is just one of many key statements littered throughout the book of Romans that give us proper understanding of the point Paul wished to make to the interlocutors of his day, namely, salvation is available to all, whether Jew or Gentile.
In 1:16 Paul sets out a basic theme of his message in the letter to the Romans. All who believed, whether they be Jew or Gentile, were saved by the power of the gospel. The universal nature of salvation was explicitly stated. The gospel saved all without distinction, whether Jew or Greek; salvation was through the gospel of Jesus Christ. Immediately after this thematic declaration, Paul undertakes to show the universal nature of sin and guilt. In 1:18-32 Paul shows how the Gentile is guilty before God. Despite evidence of God and his attributes, which is readily available to all, they have failed to honor YHVH as God and have exchanged His glory for idolatrous worship and self-promotion. As a consequence, God handed them over in judgment (1:18-32). Paul moves to denunciation of those who would judge others while themselves being guilty of the very same offenses (2:1-5) and argues that all will be judged according to their deeds (2:6). This judgment applies to all, namely, Jew and Greek (2:9-10). This section serves as somewhat of a transition in Paul’s argument. He has highlighted the guilt of the Gentiles (1:18ff) and will shortly outline the guilt of the Jew (2:17-24). The universal statement of 2:1-11 sets the stage for Paul’s rebuke of Jewish presumption. It was not possession of the Law which delivered; it was faithful obedience. It is better to have no Law and yet to obey the essence of the Law (2:12-16) than to have the Law and not obey (2:17-3:4). Paul then defends the justice of God’s judgment (3:5-8), which leads to the conclusion that all (Jew and Gentile) are guilty before God (3:9).
Paul argues that it was a mistaken notion to think that salvation was the prerogative of the Jew only. This presumption is wrong for two reasons. First, it leads to the mistaken assumption that only Jews were eligible for this vindication (Paul deals with this misunderstanding in chapter 4 where he demonstrates that Abraham was justified by faith independently of the Law and is therefore the father of all who believe, Jew and Gentile alike). Second, it leads to the equally mistaken conclusion that all who were Jews are guaranteed of vindication. Paul demonstrates how this perspective, which would call God’s integrity into question since Paul was assuming many Jews would not experience this vindication, was misguided. He did this by demonstrating that it was never the case that all physical descendants of Israel (Jacob) were likewise recipients of the promise. In the past (9:6-33) as in the present (at that time; 11:1-10), only a remnant was preserved and only a remnant would experience vindication. Paul also argued that the unbelief of national Israel (the non-remnant) had the purpose of extending the compass of salvation. The unbelief of one group made the universal scope of the gospel possible. This universalism was itself intended to bring about the vindication of the unbelieving group (11:11-16). As a result of faith, all (Jew and Gentile) could be branches of the olive tree (11:17-24). Since faith in Christ was necessary to remain grafted into the tree, no one could boast of his position. All, Jew and Gentile alike, were dependent upon the mercy and grace of God. As a result of God’s mysterious plan, He would bring about the vindication of His people (11:25-27). [Note: It is this author's belief that this vindication occurred around 66-70 AD, with the Parousia of Christ's Church; this author is Full-Preterist in their Eschatology.]

I am looking for a lady between 25 and 35 years old, for a committed monogamous childfree relationship. My goal is to become a true team, supporting each other, caring for each other, nurturing each other and helping each other grow and realise our goals and dreams as much as possible. I'm hoping to find someone that values a relationship as much as I do and takes it seriously. It's not the only thing my life revolves around, but it's also not just something 'nice to have' for me.
I am 186cm tall, slim/fit built, dark brown hair, brown eyes. Both my arms are tattooed (full sleeve), as are my calves and the areas above my ankles. Regarding pictures see below. I am a runner, training multiple times a week. I'm also vegan. My love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation. While I am mostly securely attached, withdrawing from me triggers anxiety and I have made a horrible experience with an avoidant partner in the past, so that is something I fear I cannot deal with again.
I am also an atheist.
I am a very warm, soft and sensitive person, I think I am humorous, I am self reflecting a lot and I can also be really passionate and romantic. Those are traits that also are really important to me in a woman.
I can be quite social, I am a good talker, but also love to listen to really get to know someone on a deeper level. I can enjoy an evening out with friends just as much as the silence of sitting at the shores of the river and watching the sunset in solitude (although I've been craving to watch it together with a partner for a really long time now). I can be out in a pub, at a rave, a metal show or at a football game and have the time of my life, but I cannot do these things every day; I need recharge time (on the sofa, in the woods for a run, a lazy Sunday staying in bed etc.). This should give you an idea; basically, I am a homebody that thoroughly enjoys going out in moderation.
I won't say too much about hobbies; suffice it to say I am into the dark, the obscure, the macabre, the occult, the mysterious, the erotic. It won't surprise you that I had a gothic phase in my youth, bonus points if you did too!
What I'm looking for
Although similar hobbies and interests are a plus, emotional and intimate compatibility are more important to me. I am a very sensitive and emotional person (I do cry easily and by this point I don't think I'll ever be able to change that, sorry), so if you're too, we will definitely understand each other. I need someone who I can open up to (which I do rather quickly, anyway), be myself, bare my soul to and I need these things from you, too. I've had my share of emotionally unavailable women who were afraid of intimacy so I know I can't deal with that again because of the way how those things affect me. I am always emotionally invested with the woman I pursue and in those cases that was to my detriment. But my ability to feel so deep is also something I wouldn't want to change because as of yet, although it's getting harder, I haven't given up on finding someone.
With those emotional needs come two requirements that I found to be vital over the years: First, being able to be silly and cutesy together and to accept each other's inner child and care for it. I am not talking about having to deal with another person's immaturity or inability to perform basic adult skills, rather with the way sadness, hurt, anxiety and being overwhelmed manifests for me (and maybe for you, too?). I need someone who is able to comfort me, to hold me, to allow me to be weak and needy for a while until I've calmed down, and I'm more than ready to offer the same. Your inner child can come out for a while, no problem (: Also in a positive way: Thankfully, today everyone seems to be understanding of the cuteness overload cats (or any animal baby, really) can cause; I need that with a partner. I also still have plushies as comfort animals and ideally, you do too.
Apparently in every relationship, one person is the stronger one. In the past, I have been with women who obviously were stronger than me, but that doesn't mean they always had to be strong, far from it. I certainly need to be able to feel protected, but it's not like I'm a particularly needy partner, like everyone, I have my ups and downs, but I can pull my weight and have been told by past partners that I am very caring and that they felt safe and understood with me, and providing that for my partner is really important for me as well.
Second, intimate compatibility. I am rather insatiable and love to experiment when it comes to the bedroom, so you should, too, in order that we can explore and enjoy together. I found out how fulfilling living out those fantasies can be after years of never being able to try and in a relationship, this kind of fulfillment for both partners is a must for me. I found the term 'filthy best friends and partners' to be a perfect description.
I'm looking for a balance between healthy independence and being emotionally present. A relationship where we 'get' each other; we're both each other's number one and treat each other like royalty. Where a disagreement leads to more intimacy between us as we understand better, not to resentment. Where we're comfortable baring our souls to each other, becoming a safe haven and secure base for each other. I don't like the modern notion that you 'should never feel too safe in a relationship' because that sounds like running from the mafia (and believe me, I love mafia movies); you should always put in effort, yes, but safety is one of the things I always want to experience and provide in a relationship. We shouldn't fear that a disagreement leads straight to breakup. I know ‘self-sufficiency’ is trending right now, but I feel like as partners, we’re partly responsible for each other and not our own but also each other’s happiness. Being dependant and dependable at the same time is important; making each other’s wellbeing a priority. If you’re not able to healthily depend on someone and their support while you’re having a hard time, look elsewhere. If I have to be afraid you’ll run at the first major problem that surfaces, even if it’s a ‘you’-problem, it’s not going to work. I think that all things can and need to be talked about. If you think ignoring someone for days is a form of communication, please look elsewhere.
I am looking for someone real. We all have our problems, I don't want or need a 'perfect' person. You don't have everything figured out or 'all your shit' together. Be imperfect. Admit when you feel sad and angry, lonely, hopeless or even helpless – it's all relatable. Don't hide it. Be quirky, be dorky, be witchy, opinionated, be yourself. Don't pretend.
I'm looking for someone to share romance with. Not great gestures, but small, meaningful ones. Poems for each other, expressing our feelings; cards with heartfelt messages that we put our perfume/cologne on, and a symbol that means something to us only, the print of your lips with lipstick, the way I sign and seal my letters for you.
Just as important to me is agreeing on living a healthy life, staying in shape both for ourselves and for each other, regularly working out and eating healthy. I am drug and disease-free and expect the same of you. I do drink as I love a good beer or glass of wine, rum or whiskey, but I've never really been drinking much and especially during the past year have further reduced it. One vice I have is that I enjoy a couple of cigars a year, but I can definitely accommodate you in this regard.
Another important point is aligned life goals: I value safety more than adventure. I want to build a home together with my partner, a safespace for the both of us, where we always feel loved and protected, a place that we create together, make it cozy together so we just love to get back home there wherever we might have been, a home we decorate together for Halloween (my favourite holiday) or Christmas or Springtime, as we live in tune with the seasons, enjoying nature on a walk or the rain outside, reading in our cozy home. I value stability and harmony.
Appearance-wise, I am into ladies on the smaller side), so I'm looking for someone petite/slim/skinny/healthy-fit. Likewise, I am not really muscular and don't have visible abs; like I said, I'm a runner, so if you're more into the gym-type, I'm not a good fit.
I’d prefer to move from text to voice calls, videochat and then meeting up, all of that rather sooner than later. Not that there’s a need to rush anything, but I’d rather see earlier if we’re compatible or not; as someone who catches feelings fast I need to protect myself.
Caveats

• I don't like travelling as it stresses me out; I don't mind being somewhere else for a week or two, but the organisation part of it drains my energy very quickly and dealing with stuff that doesn't work out is overwhelming to me. Smaller trips are ok, but I'm not the right person to travel the world with.
• I am not the most awake person in the morning (i.e. I identify as nightowl)
• I don't want children and had a vasectomy
• I need space for my own projects/time to recharge after social interaction.
• While I feel like I am in tune with my inner child and working on/with it through therapy, I realise this is something that could be a turn-off for people.
• I have been diagnosed with depressive episodes in the past and am taking anti-depressants right now. I realise that I am a work in progress, maybe more so than in times past, but I manage and the fact that I'm putting myself out here is based on me being ready to get to know someone new.
• I want to create a home together here, as I'm firmly rooted where I was born; I realise this is a lot to ask, but I have seen many people here being open to moving, so I want to at least try reaching out to them.

If you're interested, feel free to message me and include some pictures of yourself and I will reply with my own. Have a nice day (:

This guide is created based on my experience and would like to share it with players considering to get the voltgun(VG)/ players who has gotten it and have not figured out the Crux of the gun.
General tip: do not take the elite purple gem if you do not have the required skills to take the elite drop skill. There are only so many elites per round. Pick up radius messes up this strategy so I do not take pick up radius tree.
Yes I bought the exp bot, so I do not bother with collecting exp drops from the floor.
Goal : The volt gun should become a bullet hose that keeps firing and never has to reload.
How?: since the voltgun has a 30% chance to trigger lightning out of the box. Energize and splitting shock from the lightning tree is crucial to turning your VG into a bullet hose.
Legendary grade of the VG adds an additional perk of granting you ammo with every 3 lightning strikes.
Base upgrade of the elementariums improves splitting shock to have 1 additional lightning on top of the 1 granted by splitting shock.
Once you have gathered all of the above you will have your bullet hose.
Damage: The VG's bullet are but a medium for the damage. From experience, you will want VG to keep applying skills that do on hit damage and by that logic you want to focus on fire rate, projectile, penetration, To finish your build. See below for skills.
Elemental damage boost(boss drops): tomb of frostfire, tomb of thunder.
Fire rate skills: rapid fire, lightweight ammo, entrenched. Tomb of furor(boss drop)(take this as first boss drop if possible), assassin(elite drop) (move rate tree)
Penetration: deathreap, assassin(see above).
Projectiles: double barrel is sufficient, dig in(boss drop) is not a priority. I have carnage pants so that might be a reason why I don't feel the need. Fusilade wastes a skill point to get to, hence I don't like to get it.
Lightning tree: your bread and butter for your bullet hose. Take all the energize and splitting shock first to finish your bullet hose setup then finish with eletrotheurge later in the game. Do not take elite drop, personally I feel there are better elite drops out there.
Fire tree: prioritise getting warmth here and flaming meteor. Take the elite drop overload, it is a free additional 150% damage since you already have lightning. Fire mastery can be taken later. Warmth is to help with your survivability. With enough fire rate flaming meteor will be constantly dropping.
Withering gaze (WG): prioritise evil eye, eagle sight this will be your additional medium of proccing your your on hit skills. Elite drop is good to have but not a priority. Evil eye procs lightning, freeze, burning. More procs = more damage.
Freeze tree: do not take frost bolt(your are never reloading). Elite drop is free damage. Freeze is proc by your bullets and WG, frigid domain turns frozen mobs into mini bombs when they die. Freeze also gives you some room to breathe as frozen enemy block other mobs from moving forward. With WG you should have an ice wall surrounding you
Power shot tree: prioritise fragmentation over large caliber, to get deathreap. Penetration is important and it makes your bullet hit more mobs, more hit = more procs. Elite drop optional.
Bruteslayer tree: I like all of the skills here, at the point of writing I have not unlocked the elite drop so can't comment on this.
If rng does not go your way. Curse tree is good I don't like doom, with elite drop. It helps spread your burning to ensure warmth procs more. And increases your bullet damage with karma.
Tldr: Step 1: build skills that proc on hit/ with shots fired. Step 2: Shoot fast, keep shooting, shoot faster. Step 3: profit?
That's all I have for now. At the point of writing this I'm only at stage 34 with 244k CP using the VG. With slightly over 2 weeks into the game.
I beat stage 33 (recommended CP 274.3k) using VG following this strategy.
Veterans of the game please feel free to jump in if I'm wrong in my logic.

Kadillac Kirk had been a good friend of mine for several years. I had met him through friends from The Spring Stage; and he never had anything to do with The Imp, which is why he didn’t appear in the Married Mary saga. Mary would have totally thrown herself at him, and Kirk would have definitely “thrown it in her.” He loved the ladies and often remarked that there was no such thing as an unappealing woman, nor was there anything sweeter than finding the pearl of passion in an outwardly plain dame. Fortunately for Kirk, he never met Mary. This was probably fortunate for Mary as well, seeing as Kirk was a confirmed bachelor and his rakish nature might have broken her fat heart.
Kirk was an older guy. Not MOE old, though. He was in his early forties, but he easily passed for a carefree dude in his 30s... not that he lied about his age. I only mention this trait to juxtapose Kirk’s genuine youthful air with Moe’s unconvincing youthful farce. Kirk dressed normally, avoided stupid jargon, and never busted out gimmicks like tarot cards or spells. He just existed, behaved affably, and people liked him for it.
He drove a classic 1962 Cadillac El Dorado convertible with red leather interior, and he lived in a charmingly quaint (and ridiculously expensive) neighborhood. How he made his fortune remained a mystery, but he never bloviated about his wealth. He just threw spectacular parties and people showed up. And, to my knowledge, he never tried to lure women into bed with his money (although I’m sure he got his fair share of boom-boom thanks to his digs and his wheels, even if the gold-diggers denied their monetary agendas).
Kirk was legitimately handsome. He was a drummer, he had a full head of black hair, he was clean-shaven, he worked out, and he knew all the hidden gems in Wellsprings. So why hadn’t I tried... or even desired to date him? I don’t know. I just didn’t feel drawn to him like that. He felt like a cool uncle and he had, thus far, never done anything to change my perception. Plus, the age difference weirded me out a little. Kirk didn’t look forty; but knowing that he had so much more life experience than I did created a power imbalance that would have creeped me out if we’d been dating. As buddies, I just felt supremely cool riding in his Cadillac, smoking Fantasia cigarettes, and hitting the speakeasies and jazz clubs I would have never known about if it weren’t for Kirk’s connections.
And he had been a good person to talk to about my romantic woes. He never lecherously suggested that I should date him, and he gave the type of tempered advice that only comes with lived experience. But he often lightly mocked me for my crush on Dennis and he did a hilarious impression of Smegal popping too soon over his “precious.” So when Mary “got me back” by doing whatever she did with to Dennis, I called Kadillac Kirk and told him the drinks were on me if he’d be my designated driver for the night.
Why hadn’t I called Whisky??? Well, A) Kirk was way more fun to hang out with, at least from my past experiences up to that point. And B) I needed to bitch about a boy, something I couldn’t do in good conscience in front of a guy I was dating. So I put on the sexiest plunging halter dress I owned, applied heavy eye makeup and spikey accessories, braved a pair of stilettos, and sashayed out to Kirk’s convertible. I felt like a badass rock star. I probably looked like a try-hard hooker.
Kirk: Daaaaay-um! Somebody really did do a number on you, huh? I know you said you were upset, but the gents are gonna be writing thank you notes to that fat girl and that butt-fucking hobbit.
Me: I just need to feel pretty and numb. And I trust you to keep me from making a fool of myself.
Kirk squeezed my shoulder. “I’ve got you. You do whatever you need to do to get rid of these demons.”
He sparked up a J and offered me the first puff. I gladly accepted. He took one puff of his own, but said that the rest was mine since he didn’t want to drive stoned. See? He was responsible! Weed wasn’t legal in California yet, so I got a little bit baked before I stashed the sativa in the glove box and wrapped a scarf around my hair like a starlet from the Golden Age of Hollywood. Kirk sped out of the parking lot and said he was taking me to a downtown hotel that was hosting a party that night in their lush lobby.
Kadillac Kirk pulled up to the main entrance, paid the valet, and then opened my door. I was wobbly from the weed. And I had stupidly decided to wear heels. You can get high or you can wear high (heels). You can’t have both. Not if you’ve repeatedly injured both ankles (as I have). I had to take Kirk’s arm to keep from keeling over. “Can people tell I’m stoned?” I whispered. Kirk replied, “Nobody’s paying any attention to anyone else’s intoxication. I promise you that much.” I nodded, steadied myself, and strutted alongside my very cool friend, feeling a little more confident.
A live jazz orchestra was playing Cole Porter as we entered the lobby. Everything sparkled. The music was even more intoxicating than the spliff had been. “Just One of Those Things” brought tears to my eyes since the lyrics hit every raw nerve regarding the Dennis debacle. But I smiled. It might sound mental, but being distraught over a trash fire of a one-sided romance was exhilarating. Immature, for sure. But also exhilarating. You see, that kind of sadness doesn’t hurt. Not really. It stings. It leaves little bruises, but it’s very safe to wallow in because you haven’t actually lost anything. Melancholia over that which you never had is as sweet as it is bitter; and that type of twisted splendor is rivaled only by Stendhal.
“Here's hoping we meet now and then. It was great fun, but it was just one of those things.” I sang along with the band, and a fat tear rolled down past my melancholic smile and onto my chin. Kirk brushed it aside. “Too close to home?” I wiped away the remnants of the tear’s journey from eye to chin and smiled a more genuine smile. “The perfect distance from home. Shall we get drinks? Remember, I’m buying.”
Kirk: No, no. This is your time to heal. And I’m here as your pal, not your chauffeur. What would the lady like?”
I pretended to barf. Kirk knew I hated it when he got overly formal and overly attentive. So he did it just to mess with me. “Shot of vodka,” I replied.
Kirk: How many?
I thought briefly. “FIVE.”
Kirk: Five to one, baby. One in five...
Me: No one here gets out alive.
Kirk: Are you able to hold yourself upright, or should you come with?
I took a seat on an ornate, damask-upholstered chaise lounge. “I’ll be okay. And I was kidding about the five shots.”
I sat there lost in the music for a while. I thought very little about Dennis. Even less about Mary. And not at all about Whisky (whom I had shagged less than a week ago). My mind danced through the ornate lighting in the hotel lobby, and I suddenly felt the need to join the hoity-toity guests on the dancefloor!
Kirk returned with four shots of vodka. Two for him, two for me. That was quite reasonable of him. He knew damn well that I couldn’t handle five shots, but he also knew that I was in a... state. One that called for more than a single shot. I raised a both miniature glasses to “No more ninnyhammers or hairy-footed lovers.” Kirk did his hilarious Smegal impression, we double-toasted, and downed the shots. The band launched into “Let’s Misbehave,” and I kicked off my stilettos and made a beeline for the dance floor.
“There’s something wild about you child that’s so contagious. Let’s be outrageous! Let’s misbehave.” Kadillac Kirk swept me up, twirled me around, and dipped me as we both sang along with the lyrics. I wasn’t swooning for him, but I was enthralled by the moment. The music, the dancing, the combination of booze and bud... so I kissed him as he pulled me back to my feet. And he kissed back. In a way that Dennis never had. In a way that Whisky’s beard wouldn’t permit. I didn’t feel the visceral sensations that I’d felt when Dennis had kissed me, but it felt nice to feel desired. And then I noticed that other guests were watching us and applauding. Now, that was a dopamine rush if ever there was one!
I gently broke away from the embrace, high-fived Kirk and returned to the chaise lounge to put my stupid shoes back on. He followed me and smashed his face back onto mine. I pulled away and laughed. “It was a moment,” I told him. “I appreciate the dance, and that kiss was the perfect finale. But it’s not happening again.”
Kirk: Not to worry, Valerie. I know you. I knew all along that we were performing, and I was more than happy to be your scene partner.
Me: And dance partner! Those were some excellent moves! I didn’t know you had ballroom training.
Kirk: You name it, I’ve mastered it. Another drink for the lady?
I pretended to barf again. “Not yet. I’m not sad right now. Do you mind if I just sit here and enjoy the music?”
Kirk: Ah. My kisses do have healing properties...
I flipped my hand up at him. “Knock that shit off, bro. I wanted to hang out with you because I trust you not to get weird. Even if I get weird, I know you have the maturity to balance me out.”
Kirk: Are you calling me old???
Me: No. I’m calling you rational, responsible, and respectful.
Kirk: Well, now. If you can articulate an alliterative statement that fluently, then you clearly aren’t drunk enough!
I dismissed this comment as a joke. And he did indeed knock off the flirtation. We had a perfectly pleasant time chatting and dancing (no more kissing, though). And then I noticed a girl I knew from Into the Woods entering the lobby. She’d played Florinda and I’d played Little Red. I called her name and waved enthusiastically. She waved back. And then her date entered. It was D.E.N.N.I.S. I sank into the chaise. Kirk caught on immediately. “The hobbit???” he asked. I nodded silently. “You wanna make out again?” he enthused. I shook my head. I had to go say hello to Flo. And I had an idea...
I crossed the lobby, smiled, squealed, and hugged her.
Florinda: Lil’ Red! It’s been forever! So glad to see you!!! This is my friend, Denny.
From the corner of my eye. I could see Dennis shifting uncomfortably. I refused to look directly at him, neglected to acknowledge Flo's introduction and continued to converse only with her. "So glad to see you, too! What have you been up to since we left the woods?"
Dennis: C’mon, Val...
Florinda (appearing oblivious to the iciness between me and Dennis): Oh, I had some drama after the show closed. I'll have to tell you about it some other time... Have you seen Prince Big Bad (Scumbanger) lately?
I laughed. “Last time I saw him, he was hitting on some nasty fat chick at The Imp.”
Flo and I both scoffed at the pervy pest. Into the Woods was where I’d initially met Scumbanger. He played The Wolf/Cinderella’s Prince. Again... typecasting. There’s a whole essay in my brain about my first encounter with the pest, during which he quoted the song that he sang to me in the show, “Hello, Little Girl.” But it gets into some pretty uncomfortable territory because he made me feel... excited. Well, excited and scared. Nothing of note happened during Into the Woods, but our odd interactions did kind of set the stage for some extremely regrettable events during that Cats cast party.
I excused myself, saying that I needed to get back to my friend. And then I leaned in and said in a hushed voice to Flo, “Watch your ass with that one. If he’s the Denny I’m thinking of...” I gave her a look that only another female would be able to read. Her eyebrows shot up and she nodded. Dennis continued to shift as though he were trying to hold in a massive dump. “BABE! Uh...”
Flo apparently answered to that moniker as well. “What is it, Denny? Don’t worry. That was just telepathic girl talk. You apparently have a reputation...”
Dennis: Different Denny. I assure you I’m a pious gentleman.
Me: Ah. My mistake. Well, then. You guys have a good time! They’re playing Cole Porter, and the band is delovely. Great to see you, Flo!
I hugged Flo again, gave Dennis a curt nod, ignored the scent of mandarins and mountain air, and returned to Kirk.
I collapsed on the chaise lounge, exhausted from holding back the rage. I had no right to be mad at Florinda. I hadn’t seen her in three years, so how was she supposed to know that I’d had a thing with Dennis? Hell, I couldn’t even be mad at Dennis because the last time he and I had spoken in any meaningful way, I’d told him that I was no longer entertaining my crush on him. So why was I surprised to see him dating??? And why had he never taken ME out on a date like this??? And why wasn’t I smitten with Kadillac Kirk who HAD taken me out on a date like this, was an objectively excellent kisser, and a bona fide BALLER? What was wrong with me???
Kirk suggested going down the street to a quaint little bar and then sobering up at a diner closer to my apartment. I numbly nodded and followed him in silence for a few blocks. He assured me that I had “turned several heads” on the way to the new location, but I neither cared nor believed him. This wasn't the type of numbness I'd been aiming for. Now I needed to get schnockered. “Five shots of vodka, please.” Yes, I was serious.
Kadillac Kirk, my reliable designated driver, ordered only a beer and watched in something across between astonishment, concern, and delight as I slammed all five shots in rapid succession. I half expected to immediately retch all over the bar. But I felt fine. I half expected to immediately lose consciousness and wake up in the hospital. But I remained coherent. How I’d managed to take in that much hard liquor and suffer no direct consequences, I’ll never know.
I think I wanted to suffer. I wanted to either feel nothing at all or to feel a sickness bad enough to distract me from the scorching sting that pulsed through my being when I realized that I had lost the abstract notion I’d been addicted to this entire time. Hope. It wasn’t Dennis himself I couldn’t quit. It was that drug called hope. The hope that maybe, just maybe Dennis would give our romance a fair chance. The hope that maybe, just maybe he would make peace with himself, get his mind out of his crotch, and enjoy some agenda-free togetherness. The hope that maybe, just maybe he would stop bloviating about his admittedly impressive accomplishments for five fucking minutes and ask about my life. I had my own reasonably impressive accomplishments, even if they paled in comparison to his. A proper suitor would have enjoyed hearing about them.
But seeing him out with another woman, a woman who had no reason to parade her Dennis escapades before me as some means of revenge, a woman he was clearly courting of his own volition... My hope had died. It died before I’d had time to wean myself off it. Now I had to mourn the loss of hope, which is a very tricky brand of grief to navigate. Vodka wasn’t the answer, but it was what I had to work with. So it would have to do.
After enough time had passed without vomiting or collapsing, I asked Kirk to bring his car around to the bar so that I didn’t have to walk two and a half blocks drunk and in heels. He nodded and dramatically leaned in for a kiss. I recoiled. “DUDE! I told you. The moment has passed.”
Kirk: I beg your pardon. I misread your eyes. Thought I saw a green light...
Me: It’s fine. I just want to go home while I’m still feeling okay.
Kirk: Of course. Your chariot will be here soon.
He skipped off to fetch his Cadillac and I noticed that the lights in the bar were beginning to dance a bit. This should have been concerning. But then I realized that I was giggling. Wait... What? Oh shit. Sure, I was drunk from those shots. But what I was feeling in that moment wasn’t drunkery. It was stonery. Kirk probably misread my face because my pupils were dilated. Not from desire, but from drug use.
Some of you might be thinking that I was a bad friend for not introducing Lucy, an old dude connoisseur, to Kirk. Well... I did. Several years before the events of this story. He adored her. She, on the other hand, thought he was immature. And she wasn’t wrong. Lucy was astute when it came to sussing out a person’s true nature. Far more astute than I. Her initial assessment that Kirk was immature is about to be vindicated. Stretch those cringe muscles! It’s almost time for pie...
I somehow managed to get to his car. I honestly don’t recall how I got there. Did one of the bartenders carry me? Did some kind patron allow me to lean on him? Had Kadillac Kirk carried me out? I’m not sure. But my memory ceases to be fuzzy about halfway to the 24-hour diner. It might have been the very same 24-hour diner where Mary pulled her... shenanigans. I’ll never know.
Kirk: Would you say that you’re more drunk or more stoned?
Me: STONED. Definitely stoned.
Kirk made some sort of grunty noise and reached for my thigh. I slapped his hand.
Kirk: Stoned but not amorous? That’s rare.
I started laughing rather unkindly. “You’re a fucking horndog! I thought you were my safe straight male friend, dammit.”
Kirk: I solemnly swear that your safety is my primary concern, my stoned beauty.
I pretended to throw up.
Kirk: So... You’re not horny. But are you hungry? The diner I’m heading to makes this Maple Walnut Pie with the most sumptuous... sensual cream and exquisite drizzling of...
Me: Ew! Stop trying to bang the pie. Bro. Are YOU stoned? (Then I remembered the question.) Yes, I’m hungry. But I don’t like nuts. I’ll have banana cream.
Kirk made that repulsive grunty noise again. “Uhhhhh... Mmmmmm. Cream. Yessssss. Yes, we’ll be there in just a minute.” He was squirming in the driver's seat.
Me: GROSS, DUDE! If you’re gonna be like that I’ll just order HASH brows. Get it? Hash??? (I giggled uncontrollably.). You can’t make that sound nasty.
Kirk: Forgive my jokes. I think my blood sugar’s a bit low.
As Kirk parked, I began to wonder how I might get away with walking shoeless into the diner. The stilettos had to get off my feet. At least while I was walking. And Kirk was kind enough to give me his socks and wear his loafers “island style” into the establishment. Okay, that was gallant of him. Maybe he was going to behave himself for the rest of the evening.
I wasn’t terribly talkative as we sat down, and he expressed concern for my emotional well-being. I wasn’t coherent enough to explain what was happening to my emotions and I wasn’t sure I trusted him with my deep, dark secrets at that point. So I shrugged like a sulky teenager, ran my hands over my messy, windblown hair, and mumbled that I was “just hungry.” And right on cue, a very kind, slightly older waitress with a sweet southern accent stopped by to take our order.
Kirk: Ah, yes. We’ll have two cups of black coffee. And we’ll share a slice of that delectable Maple Walnut Pie.
Waitress: Oh, honey. That pie is scrumptious! I take it you’ve been here before?
Kirk: I have. This will be her first time to taste the splendor.
I hated to be a killjoy, but I interrupted and said to the waitress, “Ma’am? I’m sure the Maple Walnut is excellent, but could I please get a slice of Banana Cream? And a big glass of ice water?
Waitress: Sure, hon! Banana Cream’s just as yummy! I’ll be right back with those coffees and that big water.
Kirk was sucking on the tip of his forefinger and shaking his head a bit. “You’re passing up so many sensational... sensual...”
I put my forehead on the table and growled. “You swore you’d stop being nasty!” I held this #headdesk pose for quite some time before I finally lifted my head... only to see that Kirk was still sucking his fingertip and staring at me like a wild animal. “Pleeeeeease be normal,” I whined. “It’s been a really weird night for me.”
Kirk: Indeed. Many surprises. You know... You’re like titanium. Your flame burns so fast and so bright, if a guy doesn’t get in there while the iron is hot, he’ll never get another chance. I was too slow.
What the...? I was pretty sure he was wrong about titanium burning quickly. I’m no chemistry wiz, but my dad and my oldest brother are both big-brains when it comes to physics and chemistry. So I picked up some things just listening to them talk. Accurate or inaccurate, Kirk was being creepy again. He’d never been creepy towards me before, although I’d seen him act like this with other women. Usually with staggering success. Why????? His money. It had to be his money. Kirk was a nice-looking man, but holy shit... No amount of good looks could save this creep show.
And then, our sweet waitress sat down our coffees, my water, and the two slices of pie. After I gulped down a whole bunch of water, I grabbed a fork, prepared to quell my munchies... and then I froze. Kirk was quickly flicking his finger back and forth across the top of his pie. And moaning. He noticed my wide-eyed stare, smirked, sucked the tip of his thumb, picked up the plate with both hands, and began flicking his tongue across the tip of the triangular pie slice. And moaning some more. Well, there went my appetite.
Kirk took his middle finger and jabbed it into the crustless vertex of the pie slice, then he began pumping it in and out like a piston, and flicking his thumb across the increasingly demolished top layer of whipped cream. He gasped this time. People were starting to stare. His pointer finger joined his middle finger in the piston action, and he replaced his thumb with his tongue. Between flicks of the tongue, he groaned, “Oh yeah, baby... Let me taste you,” but it was kind of hard to understand him.
And I was either about to run to the back office, tell them that I was in danger and needed a police escort home... OR I was about to burst out laughing at the spectacle. Kirk continued... He removed his fingers and gregariously licked pie filling off of them. And then he started sucking his fingertips again, switching from middle to pointer, middle to pointer and emitting a delighted little, “Mmmmmm” with every suck.
Finally, he jabbed his fingers back into the utterly destroyed pie, lowered his face into the mess and lapped loudly and passionately, moaning, grunting, and mumbling “Come on, baby. Come on. Mmmmmm. Come on.” I could see the waitress and some dude in a suit heading over to the table, so I sank down in my seat, partially covered my face, but continued to watch the train wreck. At last, Kirk shuddered violently, he splatted his entire hand onto the plate and rubbed furiously. And then he locked eyes with me. He sucked the tip of his thumb one final time and said, “You...” There was a long pause during which Kirk lovingly stroked the mess he’d made. “You... are the pie.”
I don’t hang out with Kadillac Kirk anymore. But he’s still a bachelor, ladies!

I'm 14 turning 15, before you say that I should enjoy my youth and teen years, I KNOW THAT!
I hate being a teenager with every fiber of my being, if life had a "skip life stage" button I would be pressing it as fast as humanly possible just to get out of this. I hate the hormones, I hate the mood swings, I'm not gonna give out any info on the physical puberty part since I don't want creeps, but I just hate everything about my body and my mind changing. I don't like all of this and I just want to skip all of this, how do you guys just simply grow up so quickly?
Even outside of the physical and mental changes I also absolutely hate the era I'm growing up in. The 2020s are something every cell of my being hates, it's the worst decade I have ever lived so far. Not even in a doom and gloom way (Okay, maybe some of it), like everything's bland, people my age are so apathetic, media in general has been shit with only a few gems that come once in a blue moon. Unless if you have a hobby that always keeps you occupied I always see myself rotting on my phone or at the computer, and I don't even go to school.
I really miss the 2010s, it just felt easier, happier and more fun. Knowing I'll never get that back pains me.
I'm gonna stop writing now before I make an entire essay about this.

I woke up to seagulls this morning, I really like the sound of them. I mean they don’t make pretty sounds, nor is it relaxing, but it feels like a comforting noise I guess? I think because I like being by the sea. I’m not sure. It was nice though. I love living by the sea, like I hear ship horns and seagulls and all of that. It makes me forever paranoid of tsunamis though. I think I’d like to live in a little seaside town with my honey, but I also don’t because then I couldn’t have the garden of my dreams nor would I have the countryside lifestyle I want. I don’t really know what I want. I don’t think I have enough money to be all that picky anyway.
I kind of woke up with that pit in my stomach feeling today. I don’t like how our calls were last night, either one of them. The first I felt like he didn’t want to talk to me and the second it was me being like that to him. I didn’t mean to make it come across that way, but I think he just caught me out when I was mid-deep sleep? I couldn’t wake up or focus and idk. Normally I’m fine to wake up though? And I love his night time calls, to know he’s thinking about me makes me feel so warm inside. It feels weird to think I ever cross his mind when we aren’t in an active conversation, I guess that comes back to the self esteem thing and feeling unworthy of being a thought in his mind, not feeling important enough, or something. But in that second call, I guess I didn’t like that he got me off the phone earlier because he was so sleepy, but then it turned out he was still up and about two hours later? It made me feel like he lied about being tired to get rid of me. I don’t think that was the case, but it’s how it made me feel in the moment. Anyway I woke up feeling uneasy, I felt okay but a little uneasy so I made sure to apologise. I think as well because I fell asleep feeling a little uneasy, it felt like he rushed me off the phone or like I was boring him to death or something. But it made me think about how it’s only 9pm where he is, and that he could quite easily have someone come over around that time. I don’t believe he would do that, but it scares me all the same. The way in which he could crush me into nothing is a little frightening sometimes, it really feels like I’ve just laid out my sad little heart out there for him to stomp all over if he so wishes to do so. I know if he did end things I would be okay, I think, but I can’t say I don’t worry about how it would affect my mental health and “recovery” - how far would it set me back? But also that’s not on him at all, and I’m never ever going to imply as such to him. He ought to make decisions based on what he wants and is best for him. Anyway it’s fine and we talked this morning and nothing has changed for him either, we both still want each other and this so it doesn’t even matter. I still feel bad about how I made him feel. I’m really glad, even though I made him feel bad which I wish I hadn’t, but sometimes it really helps to have him say he still wants this. I know his actions speak louder than words, but sometimes I need the words too. And so him saying “I’m still the same” was really reassuring and made me feel so lovey.
I’ve made a hair appointment, for end of June. I kind of wanted it early June as my hair is annoying the f out of me now, but her first available slot is end of June sooo I guess it still works out well. It gives me five weeks to continue growing out my layers so that we can start afresh. I’m going to get my face framies cut shorter this time as they grow out so quickly. I think otherwise I’ll get very subtle layering, enough to add some movement and help it air dry nicely, but I want the ends as thick as possible too. I’ll get a general root touch up to darken them up a little, and then a tonegloss for the lengths to cool down the warmth a little and darken it up ever so slightly. And then I’ve booked in for a full on olaplex treatment, so that will be nice. I am all about my hair health this year. I always have been but now even more so.
It’s so autumnal today. I really want to watch my favourite cosy romcoms, their autumn scenes are always my most absolute favourite. And winter I suppose. Basically Meg Ryan in autumn is my favourite thing and comforts me to no end.
I think I assume that if I know something then everyone else must know it too, so when they don’t I find it baffling that they don’t know. I guess because I consider myself thicker than a brick and everyone else smarter than I am, so I’d say in the team quiz no one knows the answer I start thinking how do you not know this, but that’s unfair of me and I’m making an assumption based on my low self esteem. But also I am as dumb as a rock so I mean there’s low self esteem and then there’s self awareness. But I just assume that if I know something, then it therefore must be as widely known as 2+2=4.
I’m wearing my Mon Guerlain perfume today, I quite like it, I guess I liked it a fair but considering I seem to have both a bottle of the edp and edt? I think this was during lockdown. Anyway I never wear it but I am today as it’s quite a warm scent, it’s like a warm vanilla but with a touch of lavender? Barely any lavender though, just a teeny tiny little bit. I just googled and that’s exactly what it is so yay me! Except it’s blatantly obvious so perhaps I’ll calm down on the self celebrations. Anyway it’s not one I’d replace but I do like it I suppose. It feels a little mature, not in an older woman way but in a mid-40s way. I read a comment and it said that it gives wife-and-adoring-mother with a wealthy husband, who’s just kissed her children goodnight before sweeping off in her furs to dinner and the opera. It’s classy and elegant, but with something warm and motherly to it and I get that too. Like the mama in Peter Pan! Anyway I’m a little ways off that stage of my life. But it’s a nice wfh scent I suppose. Most of my perfumes are just wfh/chill at home ones now. I wear perfume everyday, I’d say that’s silly but a) Andy tends to too and anything he does that I do makes me feel more assured it’s okay, b) I have a lottttt to get through and c) even if I didn’t have a lottttt to get through I still would because I just like to feel pretty. I may be as ugly as a troll but I will still be presentable enough. Not nicely, but perfume, groomed brows, glowy skin/skincare, my cutie lil diamond studs, brushed hair etc. Except I like a lived in look, I don’t like to look super prim and proper I prefer more bedheady hair and to look like I don’t care an awful lot, but in a nonchalant Kate Moss way not a get wrecked Adam Sandler way. Except I think Adam Sandler is the better of the two - I read he still has a regular-ish house? Then again it was the internet and I’m as gullible as… idk something gullible. That’s what I adore about Andy, he will do his own research and not believe anything outright, he’ll question it and all of that. Whereas I can just be like woowwwww crazy and then move on. There are many ways I’d like to be more like him, I don’t want to be like him but I just want to be better and he’s better so idk. He seems a little paranoid I’ll be like his ex who basically tried to become the tweedle dum to his tweedle dee, but I mean that’s never going to happen? I like to try things he likes, for example snacks and drinks and things. And if he says he enjoys using something and recommends it, ie his mouse, then I take his recommendations seriously. But I’m never going to dress or act like him, I mean I adore him but I don’t want to be a man…? I like being girly and different from him! But I just mean I like how he approaches things, I like how he handles disagreements or thinks about new information - they’re things I want to kind of learn from him. Not in a way where I’d ask because that makes it weirder. Idk. This whole thing is weird. I just admire him. Now I sound like some kinda single white female… which I am… oh god.
Todays been fine overall. I did something new workwise, getting into LOEs for H&S speeding stuff, I had a call with a manager about one of his direct reports this morning and he was like I mean is it that bad and I had to tell a 40 something grown man that it is indeed bad to speed 28km over the speed limit. For any reason. And in a branded vehicle at that. Anyway so then I had to do the letter which was fine but it’s such a confusing template so I suggested some alterations to the Head of and she said they were excellent and she would change the template letter to include my suggestions, so that made me feel good. I enjoy that part of my work, I think I like processes and policies and all of that stuff. Idk why someone with social anxiety thought it would be smart to get into PEOPLE advisory. But like I said, as thick as a brick.
I had such a fun chat with him this evening, he makes me all giggly and silly and I hate myself for saying that. The word giggle is so bleh. I mean it’s a cute word but it feels wrong to say for whatever reason. It’s like when people say “hehe” in texts or whatever, it makes me feel gross even though I don’t even mind it. I think in the right context from the right person it’s fine, but I’ve never experienced that so idk. Now I’m thinking of… something. Something we watched. And the subtitles had it as “heh heh” and I’m thinking sopranos. Anyway newsflash to no one: I love him a hellllllll of a lot.
I wish I didn’t have to go to the office tomorrow. It’s so annoying. I know it’s good for me and also my manager has outright asked me to, so I kind of have to regardless, but also I’ll just focus on the fact it’s good for me to be properly out of the house and stuff. And it has perks I guess, I can have sushi for lunch, peruse the bookshop nearby and I also don’t snack when I’m at the office, I take nuts with me but I don’t eat them because I get all anxy about if people can hear me chewing or if they think I’m some kind of insatiable ogre who can’t wait til lunch or dinner. But so I just have a few bits of sushi for lunch. Although I really want to try this Vietnamese place, they have a salad that looks so bloody good, but I’ve never been and it looks like the kind you line up for like subway and that sends a barrage of anxiety through me so maybe sometime in the future. But I also tend to get more done and idk. It’s good for me. I’ll just keep telling myself that while I hate life two days a week for the foreseeable. It’s not even that bad, it is bad anxiety wise - like yesterday I didn’t go to the bathroom for over an hour from when I needed to pee because of my anxiety, I also didn’t fill up my drink bottle or get another coffee at all for the whole day. So my anxiety is bad, but maybe over time it’ll get better, I’m sure it will, I just have to suck it up in the interim.
I think I’ll stop now because I have 10 mins exactly til 8 and I need to get entirely ready for bed and post this. I needed to blowdry my hair but I spent too long in the shower and now I don’t have time so oh well. Tbh I look like utter shite anyway lately so what’s a bad hair day to go with it? I’ll just put it up. I feel disgustingly ugly lately, I always do but especially lately. Okay now I have 8 minutes night night

So, in May 2023, my friend (Em f23) and I (f28) had a conversation that started off friendly. Just chit-chat and funny anecdotes from the day. She brought up a situation with her coworker she enjoyed. It involved tourettes and one of her coworkers' specific tics.
I made a comment that I genuinely didn't think much of at the time. It was just some trivia I knew of and thought was interesting. Specifically that people with tourettes can 'catch' or involuntarily copy tics from other people with tourettes. It's something I learned from watching content made by people with tourettes. She made a comment like, "Maybe it's not like that, in this specific situation with my coworker."
Here's where I should have realised she was not interested in my trivia. What I definitely didn't realise was that it in fact made her mad, but I kept pushing anyways because I felt I was correct, that the coworker had picked up the tic from a well know streamer because it was literally identical. Em then stopped answering, after a couple hours of silence I asked her if she was actually mad about what I said and she responded with "Its fucking fine." Cue her not talking to me at all for 3 days. On the third day, she said we needed to have a sit-down conversation about boundaries because she "is having big feelings." her words, not mine.
I was so confused about what would have triggered her wanting to talk about boundaries when the conversation we had was a mild disagreement at worst. I would understand if I said something offensive, but I literally just said a fact and my opinion on her coworker, I didn't try to force her to agree, and there's proof of the streamer with that specific tic so it wasn't like I was lying to be able to one up her or something? I don't know, this whole part of the situation is incredibly confusing to me because she never talked about why that conversation triggered her to give me the silent treatment in the first place or how it led her to wanting to talk about boundaries. In the end, the boundaries she talked about much much later had nothing to do with this conversation even though it seemed to be what caused her to want boundaries. Idk, I'm still very confused about what actually caused her to want to have the discussion after the three days of silence and a minor disagreement.
At this point, still May 2023, I was in severe pain, but I did not know it was cancer yet. I was barely making it through each day with how much I was in pain. The tumor is in my leg, growing out of the top portion of my tibia in a way that has made the tibial platue hollow, or essentially a whisper thin shell of bone filled with slime, sorry but that's the best way to describe it. At any moment, my surgeon told me this later, I could have broken that thin bone and had a collapsed knee joint. I say this so you you know when I talk about pain here, I'm talking excruciating levels of pain.
So walking specifically and everything else was extremely painful, and that was taking a lot of energy and brain space. I told her I was in a ton of pain. I was exhausted and barely scraping by just to keep working while waiting for my doctors visits to hopefully figure out what was wrong. I said I would try to find a day to have "the talk," but things just kept getting worse. By the end of July I had seen four different doctors, three of which thought I was just trying to get drugs, the last one was an orthopedic doctor and she took two minutes of looking at an xray and another minute of looking at my leg to say I most likely had a tumor.
The official on paper diagnosis came in September because of the waiting time to meet with the surgeon, but we knew it was a tumor in August. I was put on essentially bed rest from august to the day I had surgery September 27th. I told Em about the tumor the day I got the MRI results which I had in mid August to prepare for the appointment with the surgeon. Her response was extremely upsetting to me.
Em: "That's a lot to deal with. The possibility of having a malignant tumor is scary and can make you really question life. When you're put into a situation like that, it forces you to look back on your life and reevaluate. You find out what you really want out of life and what you waisted too much time dealing with. That's really tough. I'm sorry I made you feel like you couldn't talk to me about your pain. Being more supportive of each other was something I wanted to talk about. Hopefully, you have a sweet and easy recovery."
That response hurt, it felt like she was saying I had a lot to regret in life and like I didn't have much time left to live to fix my regrets. But I thanked her for the empathy she tried to give and moved on. After that she never checked in on me, never asked how I was or what the plan of treatment was. My surgery was scheduled for the end of Spetember, the day after her birthday. I wished her a happy birthday. Then I let her know after the surgery that everything went well and that I was going to be in the hopsital for a few days. I was loopy on strong pain meds so i also told her that my nurse drew me a cute doodle on my white board, she said ".That's great! Hopefully you heal fast so you can go on a date with her. 😉" which was totally out of the blue. I havent dated anyone in the time Ive know or been friends with Em. Im asexual, and an extreme introvert, dating is not really my thing and she knows this. So that comment was very weird to me. After that she never even texted to check in on me or tried to visit me in the 5 days I stayed in the hospital after the surgery. Keep in mind, we are supposedly best friends.
I almost considered our friendship over by then, but I reached out to her when I was pretty much back on my feet to see what was going on and asked her what the conversation about boundaries was about. I apologized for being too chicken shit to ask about it earlier because I don't do well emotionally with getting criticism even when it's valid and I know I need to hear it. On top of that I was (and still am) dealing with fucking cancer. Not an excuse, it is an explanation though. So I apologized.
Her responses here, copy and pasted from our messages:
Em:
"First off I want so say that it's very respectable that you are willing to admit what you did wrong. Thank you for the apology.
Secondly, I don't know if the the conversation is still worth having. I'd be lying if I said I was devastated that we dropped off and didn't communicate for months. To be brutally honest, my life has drastically improved in our time apart. I'm so much more effective and positive. I'm very proud of how far I've come.
That's not to say I believed that you were the soul cause of all of my misfortune. In fact one of the boundaries I wanted to set was actual planned dates instead of spontaneous ones. Because I realized that I was using you like a form of procrastination. I couldn't do the things I needed to do because I chose to hang out with you instead. With my main distraction gone I've been able to thoroughly work through my shit, mental and physical.
When we last hung out I remembered feeling dark and heavy afterwards because it was nothing special. It was just a normal outing for us. I remember feeling angry that what we should have talked about wasn't addressed. Annoyed that it seemed like nothing had changed and that I had not changed. And scared that opening up communication could lead to me falling back into the pit again.
I don't know if we should have the original talk because so much has changed for both of us. We both equally walked over our own thresholds of hell. What I had to say months ago, I believe was true then, but I don't think it will be true now. I think it's quite possible for us to start anew and correct and develop as we go. But I think it would be just as easy to admit our friendship was a great experience. We were there when we needed each other. But it might be time to go our separate ways.
I will say, if we collectively choose to merge back together. I WON'T let it be the same. I don't want you to tell me every tiny dark secret. But I do want you to tell me that you want to stop at game stop and ask me to take you somewhere. Without fear of gas. I want you to tell me if it pisses you off that I take you to only crystal shops or that I talk about spiritually. Because I want to improve. I have no intention of continuing a relationship that doesn't inspire growth or bring me positivity."
So she stopped talking to me, because she had no self-control. She abandoned me during the worst medical crisis of my fucking life, because she doesn't know how to manage her time or her motivation. She punished me, for her problems. To be very specific the spontaneous hanging out was nearly 100% on her. I would ask to hang out rarely, because I never had the chance to because she would be asking to see me multiple times a week.
I'm not a social person, so other than work I don't have much going on and she was my best friend. I wasn't going to say no if I didn't have any other plans. She never brought up that she was procrastinating anything by hanging out with me. Never a peep. Never a hint. Nothing. I had no idea any of that was going on. If I did know I would have been 150,000% there to support her by asking how her goals were going, how her chores were going. Hell I would have helped her do chores as our hang out if she had asked. I did help her with some stuff. Painting her head board, rearranging and cleaning her room, working on crafts when she needed motivation to finish a piece for a friend, being a study buddy when she needed to focus on her mental health books, things like that.
Also in what world is learning to be accountable for your own actions and vacuuming regularly the same as going through cancer? I don't like comparing pain or life struggles usually, but this was a crossed line for me. For her to say her dealing with procrastination was an "equal threshold of hell" as my bone eating tumor and excruciating pain and the fear of it spreading to other parts of my body, it infuriates me still to think about that.
So I am now hurt and angry as hell, that she stopped talking to me over seemingly nothing that I did. I had no idea what was going on with the tourettes coworker conversation that ended in "its fucking fine" from her and then her next message was about her needing to set boundaries. And then she says her life is better without me in it.
Friendship effectively over. Or it should have been.
Here's where I'm a bit of an asshole.
I took her back. I said we could try again. That we both needed to improve but that we could do it better this time. At the time I genuinely believed it. For a couple weeks.
Then the more I thought about laying in that hospital bed, alone, wishing I had someone to distract me from the pain and fear, the more I started to realise her reasons for cutting contact was bullshit. Her wanting to have this big talk about boundaries and the boundaries she wanted were literally nothing I could do they were all her issues with her own decisions and there's was nothing I could change about myself to fix the problem she was putting 50/50 on my shoulders. Her saying her life was better without me when that whole time I was crying over missing her and trying to figure out what I did wrong where I fucked up, what I could do or say to fix it. It all just added up too much and so I sent her one last message.
"I've been doing a lot of thinking and going through my emotions and I think I'm going to step back from whatever this friendship has turned into. I'll be honest I feel betrayed that you didn't even try to support me going through cancer. I understand things were rocky when I got my diagnosis, however if our friendship was important to you on any level I can't understand why you didn't even text me to see how I was doing for months at a time when you knew I was going through one of, if not the most, difficult medical diagnosis humans can get. I felt completely abandoned, especially since the reason we even stopped talking and hanging out was because of your own procrastination issues which I had nothing to do with. If you had even just told me that you needed to get things done before we could hang out I would have supported you unconditionally. Instead you gave a vague "we need to talk about boundaries and being more supportive of each other." And then never supported me in the darkest time of my life so far. It's taken me a while to get to the root of why I feel the way I do, but I don't think I can just let this go like I wanted to. I loved being your friend and it always felt like you valued my friendship too, until you were cutting me off because of your poor time management. I know that will sound harsh, I'm sorry, but it's true. I have my own issues that hurt you, I know that and I really am sorry. I am sorry I could never reciprocate financially, I'm sorry you were the one always picking me up and driving. I'm sorry that I never gave you the birthday or Christmas gifts you wanted. Thank you for all the amazing times. Goodbye."
To clarify the gift thing, I have been very poor for a long time. I am neurodivergent and I struggle to hold down a job. But I hand made her gifts, or cooked for her. The last thing I made for her was a crochet mandala blanket, please look up Radiance Mandala Blanket to see how much effort I went to, she picked the colors and I made her a lap blanket version for christmas 2022. It took her less than a month to complain that she wished she could have picked the colors. SHE DID. I told her to pick a pallet of colors specifically for her blanket and did my best to match the colors she picked with yarn I already owned. It wasn't perfect but I got it as close as I could. I don't like to make a big deal out of things I do for people because giving to the ones I love is literally the easiest thing in the world for me. But to have her act like I didnt try to make it as perfect for her as I could hurt so much.
Anyways, back to me telling her I was done. Her reply back pissed me off, maybe because I was already angry. It felt so patronizing and dismissive. But that might just be because of all the emotions I was already feeling at the time I read it.
Em: "Your feelings are valid. I'm sorry I made you feel abandoned in the hardest time. I wish you the best of luck on your way through life. Fall in love, have your farm, raise your kids, craft wonderful creations, enjoy the many YouTube videos to come, and don't forget to live your best self. I'll take this harsh lesson and apply it to friendships in the future. Live long and prosper, my friend, and have many pleasant wanderings."
Harsh lesson my ass. If it was harsh for anyone it was harsh for me to learn my best friend gave absolutely no shits about me and couldnt be bothered to try and support me through this medical crisis. We haven't spoken since. I have her blocked on everything. So, aita for cutting off Em? Even though I'm angry, I'm conflicted because I still love her, she was my best friend for 6 years.

Synopsis:
An engineer in another world—blending science and magic to achieve greatness in a world where skills and levels reign supreme.
—
Ethan was just a plain old engineer, but everything changed when he was reborn into a world of skills, levels, and magic. With his advanced knowledge far ahead of the time period he finds himself in, this new reincarnated life will be much different than his last, especially because he can construct, deconstruct, and reconstruct runes—something no one else can do.
But with royal politics, looming tax collectors, a mountain of debt, dungeon incursions, cults, and hostile fantasy races mixing together into a cocktail of bullshit that threatens to bury his dreams; Ethan must bridge the gap between steel and sorcery to grow stronger. — Runecrafting is slow burn. — What to Expect: - Weak to very strong progression - Hardcore wish fulfillment - A balance of action, kingdom building, and runecrafting. - MC will trigger an industrial revolution, revolutionize magic, modernize agriculture, communication, commerce, textile production, education, transportation, sanitation, weapons manufacturing, leisure & entertainment, and medicine.
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Chapter 04

-1-
Ethan's heart thumped in his throat as he looked at the arrow's head glinting. Fortunately, Roland had grabbed it in an instant. The arrow hadn't hit Ethan, and it likely wouldn't have. Roland threw the arrow aside as Ethan heard a muffled grunt and glanced out the window to the right. An arrow had pierced the side of their driver, right between the shoulder and chest. Ethan whipped back into his seat just as another projectile smashed against the other side of their carriage, denting it. Roland immediately stood up with a calm demeanor and unsheathed his sword. "Lord Theodore, please remain seated. This inconvenience will be dealt with shortly."
Ethan blinked up, nodded, and clasped his hands around his knee while resting his head against the window ledge as Roland got out. Situations such as this weren't anything he'd ever dealt with back on earth, but he had plenty of experience keeping himself in check when fear took hold. He'd been a boxer, after all. Ethan tapped his finger on his knee, again and again.
"Die, you shits!" a voice yelled, then a meaty crash was followed by a pained groan. It was clearly someone falling over. Moments later, footsteps approached from the other side. A man swung the carriage door open. "Get—"
Before he could say much else, a sword pierced through his chest. He slumped and hit the ground without a word, revealing Roland standing with a blank expression. His eyes were different than anything Ethan had seen since his transmigration—Roland looked nonchalant even after taking a life, which was understandable given that the man had likely taken a lot of lives. Ethan closed his eyes, refusing to look at the dead body.
More footsteps grew nearer. Two sets. They stopped beside their carriage. "Well fuck, what a piece of trash." one man said, then lurched at Roland with a bloody shout.
The fight was over in an instant.
Roland simply disappeared from his position before Ethan. Reappearing behind the two bandits flanking him, he delivered an equally lethal strike to each in turn. Simultaneously, a sharp crackling and whooshing sound made Ethan tense. Spreading out on the floor before the carriage, a dark blue magical glyph buzzed like electricity, sending sparks of electricity slamming into the bandits.
Then, the bandits' bodies split in two halves, their blood sprayed across the dirt before they even began collapsing with electricity sizzling on their bodies.
Just as he'd felt movement in the air through [Magic Perception], a man materialized right in front of Ethan. Tensing, Ethan didn't know what to do
Roland shouted from outside. Adrenaline rocketed through Ethan's veins. Hand moving, he grabbed the bandit's hand and twisted it. The bandit tackled him, and with the tight space, Ethan felt the tip of a knife nicking the side of his cheek. The wound stung badly, and with it, Ethan's mind blanked and his instincts kicked in.
Roland swiftly spun, but not in time to stop the man from pinning Ethan against the bench.
However, it wasn't needed. Ethan used [Elemental Spells] and summoned fire all over his palms. A sizzling sound erupted as the bandit cried out and went for Ethan's eyes with his free hand. Ethan bit the bandit's hand, and only got half a mouthful of skin and cloth. The bandit reeled back and leapt backward from the sudden burning pain, crying out as he crashed. Ethan lunged at him, grabbed and force-flipped the bandit's hand, and plunged the knife into his throat with an aggressive grunt. There was a short, gurgled cry, before the bandit tried swinging the knife towards him. "Cunt... bastard..." his bloody mouth formed the words, his eyes staring fearfully, but Ethan pushed the knife aggressively.
Blood sprayed and gushed onto Ethan's mouth.
Then, finally, the man stilled.
The corpse's weight fell onto Ethan, hot blood spilling out of the bandit's throat and filling the air with an acrid odor. Ethan felt it on his face. Hot. Metallic smell. He saw it dripping down the bandit's throat, all across his clothes, even in his hair. It was heavy, almost. Layer upon layer, the heavy cloak of the man's life weighting down on his spirit.
System notifications flashed but he ignored it given that bile rose in Ethan's throat. His vision darkened, and a rush of blood roared in his ear as his heart thumped like thunder. A violent urge to vomit rose within him, his entire body twitching. He had never seen a man die in front of him like this before. Disgusting as it was, he gulped everything down, even the reality he had found himself in, the death, the violence, it all set in at that moment. However, he had no time to delve on it. Even though he felt like someone had squeezed his windpipe, like a bullet was tearing through his skin, he needed to act. Now.
Ethan flipped the man aside and sat on his knees, pulling out the knife from the bandit's neck. From his place on the ground, he glanced at Roland engaged with three bandits.
One slipped past Roland and made it to Ethan. They're trying to get a hand on me. Why? The answer was simple. Oh, right... I'm a noble, they can just put a knife on my throat and demand shit...
Instead of giving the bandit the upper hand, Ethan took a breath. Once. Twice. Now or never, thinking so, he raised the knife and dove headfirst toward the approaching enemy. Caught by surprise, the bandit merely moved his free hand to counter attack. His fingers grasping the bandit's arm, he twisted it away, giving him room to go straight for the eye.
With a meaty sound, Ethan plunged the knife through the man's eyes. Blood spurted with a slick sound. The bandit wasn't fast enough to make a full reaction, as a sort of instinctive scream of terror got stuck halfway and died out. Then, as the feeling of having ended another life settled within him, Ethan retracted the dagger and stepped back. His back slamming against the carriage, he slid down and pressed a hand against his forehead. His cheek hurt. He smelled sweat and blood.
Fuck... Fuck... Breathe. This is... I can't... Breathe.
A chill ran down his spine and his heartbeat roared. He took a breath, adrenaline still surging through his veins. The sick feeling didn't leave his stomach, his entire body twitched as if electrocuted every once in a while, and his eyes started going hazy, unclear. Black spots in his field of vision. Sticky warmth all over. Hot metallic odor in his nostrils.
"Lord Theodore!" Roland's voice acted as a way for Ethan to reorient himself into reality. Roland looked ashen, not because he was tired but most likely because he'd let Ethan get into such a vulnerable position. Roland glanced at the corpse, then Ethan, then back at the corpse again, looking tense, lips tight and hands clutched into fists. "Are you alright, my lord?"
"Yes, of course," Ethan said as he studied the wound on his cheek. I need a healing skill. However, he noticed the visible distressed Roland was having and continued. "I'm fine. Don't worry. It's no big deal. For the moment, we need to clean up this mess."
Ethan could tell Roland was uncomfortable with the situation and Ethan's complete indifference, but the warrior dutifully obeyed his lord's commands. Ethan slumped onto his seat and looked through the notifications.
Your race, [Human], has leveled up — Lvl 0 -> Lvl 1!
Your class, [Mage], has level up — Lvl 0 -> Lvl 1!
[Unranked Mage] -> [Initiate]
[Elemental Spells] — Lvl 5 -> Lvl 6!
A [Quest] approaches!
Hmm, this is the second time I see the message 'A [Quest] approaches'... What is it? Why doesn't the system just give me the [Quest]? Are there conditions? Regardless, it seems that [Elemental Spells] just needed some use in battle instead of just plain old practice. Curious.
Ethan leaned back with a sigh. Now that his heartbeat wasn't drumming in his ear, the fear slowly ebbed away. All things considered, this turned out well, given the situation. However, now that he'd calmed somewhat, his eyes landed on the corpse right beside him, and that fresh scarlet blood seeping into the floorboards. The heavy coppery scent, the unmistakable smell of death. It all came crashing into him and he could no longer deny what he'd done. It had all gone so quickly.
No theatrics, the knife had just flown in, and the bandit had struggled, then stopped struggling.
Ethan stared at the corpses. With his hands on his lap, he gazed vacantly. For a single, stretched-out moment, the only thing he was aware of were the lifeless bodies right next to him, the sensation of having one less enemy standing in the way. One of the bandits had his jugular slashed. Another had a knife poking into his eyes. Ethan had killed them. Him. It was nauseatingly easy, taking another's life. It felt good. Ethan was disgusted at that thought, but damn did it feel good. I—I... I won. He wanted to grin, but he didn't.
Soon, the bandits were dealt with. Not a minute was wasted, and they cleaned up and got moving in a hurry, before Roland could throw the corpse inside the carriage out, Ethan stopped him.
He'd been staring at it, sitting there, silently. Bile would rise to the tip of his throat before he'd swallow it, a stone in his gut making his movements stiff. It felt unreal. When he took that step to make sure the bandit was dead, his eyes met with those of the corpse—with glassy black pupils that appeared frozen mid-realization that he was dying. Fearful, horrified eyes. Human eyes. Ethan stared into them, felt every fiber of his body clench, saw the smears of blood across the man's mouth where his desperate breaths had made him cough up, to live.
Ethan stared, not because he was a masochist or someone who derived pleasure from other people's misery. Rather, it was because he wanted this to never happen again. His reaction. It hadn't been optimal. He just knew he'd need to kill and spill blood if he was to survive, and thus, he needed to familiarize himself with the sight of death—death caused by his hands.
His thoughts were a little less orderly than he liked. That needed to change, fast. It would always be a burden, so he simply chose to stare, knowing he was staring down his weakness—at his fear.
After a solid five minutes, Ethan turned around. Roland's gaze met Ethan's. For a brief moment, the gaze was averted, the warrior showing clear guilt. Ethan placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "Roland, don't blame yourself. I understand you must have felt cornered and unable to react. Just know I appreciate you. Don't beat yourself up for it. There have been no casualties on our side."
Roland bowed his head. Ethan smiled, though it was strained. Roland had been standing there for a while now but hadn't wanted to interrupt Ethan's self-reflection time, despite being tense himself. The guards had burned the corpses. Soon, the men Ethan killed were taken out, too. Then they left for the woods.
A guard who appeared to be a [Mage] that had a spell called [Cleanse] walked to the carriage, and placed his hands near the gore-splattered interior. In mere moments, a rune flickered into existence, then, mana got sucked out of the guard, seeping into the rune—soon, the blood and even the smells were swept clean and everything returned to being a neat and tidy.
The guard staggered a little before his comrades stabilized him. Must be quite demanding, Ethan noted, nodding appreciatively as the guard stepped out of the carriage. "That's quite the useful skill," Ethan said, examining the results.
Roland gave a silent nod, no doubt feeling pretty damn bad about his failure.
The guard, on the other hand, bowed with a smile, clearly appreciating Ethan's recognition. "It's a pleasure to be of service, my lord. This humble guard has had this skill ever since he became a mage."
Ethan made an impressed noise. "I see."
The guard beamed, then bowed even more before walking over to his fellow guards, who patted his backs at a job well done. Then, the horses pulled the carriage, and the carriage resumed moving. As soon as his back had settled into the cushion of the seat, an exhausting wave rolled over Ethan's body.
Before everything, however. I saw the rune. Ethan grinned a little, then willed mana into the shape of the rune.
It sputtered.
Ethan tried again, connecting different parts of the rune. One. Two. Three. Four. And as the rune sputtered again.
Throughout the journey to Deadwoods, Ethan kept at it.
He failed every time—
—and he didn't know why.
An immense headache assaulted him, and he had to stop his attempts.
-2-
The Deadwoods proved to be just what he'd expected. Dead. Charred branches and crumbling trees lay spread throughout. Roland looked around solemnly. Ethan was more interested in what kept this place the way it was. This land was, to put it simply, the most horrific location in the entire barony. It was a huge portion of a forest that appeared to be dead, thus why it had gotten the name Deadwoods.
Leaves crunched underneath Ethan's feet, and he studied his surroundings with morbid curiosity. The trees, branches and leaves were all dark in color as if something had scorched them. Many creatures lived here, animals like the usual game of deer, wolves, and foxes and sometimes there'd even been bears spotted. The dangerous thing, however, wasn't that the animals existed, it was that they were magical beasts. Mutants.
"Lord Theodore," Roland said, hand on his sword, eyes darting around in caution. "It is dangerous to be here—"
"Peh." Ethan waved his hand nonchalantly, much to Roland's shock at such an uncharacteristic behavior. "It will be worth it."
After all, I'm gonna have fun hunting monsters, leveling up, and finally, finally finding some goddamn tree ash.
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Synopsis:
An engineer in another world—blending science and magic to achieve greatness in a world where skills and levels reign supreme.
—
Ethan was just a plain old engineer, but everything changed when he was reborn into a world of skills, levels, and magic. With his advanced knowledge far ahead of the time period he finds himself in, this new reincarnated life will be much different than his last, especially because he can construct, deconstruct, and reconstruct runes—something no one else can do.
But with royal politics, looming tax collectors, a mountain of debt, dungeon incursions, cults, and hostile fantasy races mixing together into a cocktail of bullshit that threatens to bury his dreams; Ethan must bridge the gap between steel and sorcery to grow stronger.
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Chapter 02

-1-
Roland cursed under his breath as he trudged down the muddy path toward Lord Theodore's manor. The late early morning sun cast long shadows, painting the desolate landscape in an even bleaker light.
Why was it only him who had to deal with Lord Theodore's bullshit? Just last night, Roland had to take care of all the complaints from the bar he'd found Lord Theodore at. Not to mention, he had to pay compensation to the wenches from his own personal funds.
And that wasn't even half the things he'd done yesterday alone.
After all, Lord Theodore was either busy abusing his power and bullying the people of the town, gambling, drinking, getting wasted with his face stuck up a prostitute, or doing his fourth favorite activity which, naturally, was a combination of the latter three. The man wasn't the brightest, but he wasn't quite dumb enough to avoid dealing with the problems the town of Holden faced.
Roland shook his head when he made it to the estate gates. As expected, there were guards, servants, and soldiers dashing left and right, but he was ignored. It was time to beg Lord Theodore to attend to his duties. None dared stop him, for he was a [Knight] appointed to Lord Theodore by his father—Lord Alexander Lockheart—and an acting advisor while said lord was being, well, his usual idiotic and selfish self.
So, Roland did what he had to; he moved past them all, and made for Lord Theodore's sleeping quarters where a handful of maids were all fussing about like hens with their heads chopped off.
Lord Theodore's quarters were not large by noble standards, but impressive all the same. Lavish and gaudy, just as he expected. Tapestries and drapes were hung up high all about the walls, and on the ground, there were expensive fur carpets.
After moving past the maids and butlers who were currently shuffling about like a horde of ants whose nest was threatened by a boar, he stopped before a silk drape that barred the way to Lord Theodore's bedchambers.
"Lord Theodore," he called.
Silence.
"Lord Theodore?"
Nothing.
Feeling a little annoyed, Roland frowned. "Lord Theodore," he called again. "With all due respect, are you presently attired?"
Nothing but a muffled sound came from the other side. Roland grimaced, and looked up at the ceiling in exasperation before dropping his hand and tugging the curtain aside. The inside of the bedchamber wasn't much to look at. Just your average nobleman's bedroom with a canopy bed big enough to fit twelve women side-by-side.
Most did, in fact, do just that.
A bookshelf stood on each wall, and at the far end was another drape that led to an enclosed balcony where he had the gall to throw his used clothes through during summer.
"Greetings, my lord," Roland said.
Lord Theodore, however, didn't answer.
He sat in front of a full-length mirror on the dresser. He had this listless sort of look, like he just didn't know how to deal with things. It wasn't an expression he'd ever seen on the man's face.
"Lord Theodore, are you well?" Roland inquired, a sliver of unease creeping into his voice. Though he found the young lord childish—given he was barely eighteen years old—Lord Theodore was his responsibility. He'd been Roland's responsibility when he was a little brat, and even now.
Theodore gave a startled response. "Ah, Roland? Yes, I am quite well."
"My lord, with all due respect, I implore you to be truthful. Has something transpired?"
Roland was anxious now. While he harbored no particular fondness for Lord Theodore, a sworn oath bound him to protect and care for the Baron. Granted, his master, Lord Theodore's own father, had afforded him considerable autonomy within Holden's borders—heck, he could even go as far as beating up Lord Theodore without consequences, if Roland deemed it reasonable and necessary—but his code of honor held oaths sacred. The son of the house Varian would rather lose an arm and his birthright than break a single [Oath] made.
"No, truly, I'm fine."
"If that is the case," Roland acknowledged with a curt nod, "then I bear news."
Lord Theodore furrowed his brow. "Good news, I trust?"
"I'm afraid not," Roland sighed. "Yesterday, our patrol in the Deadwoods encountered a band of brigands...…"
Lord Theodore's frown deepened. "While banditry is a common occurrence, it often heralds further troubles. Elaborate, Roland."
"Indeed, my lord," Roland continued, "these brigands weren't merely causing a ruckus. Apparently, they were engaged in combat with a rather formidable creature, vaguely humanoid in form."
Lord Theodore's posture stiffened. "Vaguely humanoid? Can you provide further details?"
Roland shook his head. "Limited information, I'm afraid. Only reports of unnatural speed reached our ears; it appeared to be engaged with wolves. Both fled upon human-contact, however."
Lord Theodore stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Did our men prevail against the brigands? And this creature—surely Captain..." he paused, searching for the man's name.
"Thomas," Roland supplied.
"Ah, yes, Thomas. Holden is geographically close to the Deadwoods. Sir Thomas wouldn't simply abandon such a threat near the bordertowns, would he? He and I may not see eye to eye on certain matters, but... surely he wouldn't leave such a threat unaddressed." Lord Theodore said.
Roland hesitated. "Captain Thomas chose to bypass us and directly inform the Crown of their discovery. He remained tight-lipped regarding specifics despite repeated inquiries."
Lord Theodore hummed thoughtfully. "If Thomas deems it worthy of the Crown's attention, then it surpasses our jurisdiction. Let's hope for their swift and decisive action. What of the brigands? Eliminated, I presume?"
"So it seems," Roland replied. "All but one met their demise. The sole survivor remains in a cell, though maddened beyond reason."
"I see. Is that for now?" Lord Theodore leaned back in his chair.
"Not quite, my lord. We've had a recent outbreak of the Blight, and we suspect it was an intentional spread. Unfortunately, the culprit remains unidentified."
Theodore's expression morphed into one of genuine shock. "Are these two seemingly unrelated issues connected, perhaps?" He asked.
"It appears to be the case, my lord." A sigh escaped Roland's lips. The Blight—a magical sickness that eats away at your life force, causes lethargy, nausea, and kills you, all while your body radiates a pervasive foul odor. It had recently taken hold on a few people of Holden. Why or how, Roland did not know.
"Those afflicted have been quarantined in a secure location far from Holden to prevent further contagion. Our physicians are doing their utmost to manage them. However, several have died already, and the remaining victims exhibit signs of feral behavior—meaning, they have already entered the late stage, I'm afraid. It's become imperative that they remain under quarantine, lest they either bite other humans—given there's hunger for raw flesh in the late stage—or they could infect the crops, causing them to decay. Consequently, the farmers, understandably anxious, have retreated into their homes."
They were likely waiting for their lord, incompetent as he may be, to deal with the situation. Yet, he had his hand up a wench's skirt more than actually trying to fix the issues... What can I do with him? Roland sighed.
Lord Theodore rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Roland."
"Yes, my lord?"
"Do you think the Merchant Guild would let me have another loan?"
Roland's lips thinned into a line, but he shook his head. "Regrettably, my lord, they would not. The Merchants' Guild has been cautious lately. There was this whole unpleasant affair with a prominent [Merchant Lord] named Bertram, you might know the name. Used to flaunt more gold jewelry than some of the highborn nobles. Turns out, he was embezzling.
"Apparently, he manipulated the Guild's books for months. Inflated trade contracts with nonexistent suppliers from faraway lands, siphoned off the extra profit into his own pockets. Clever, gotta give him that. Even forged shipping manifests to keep it all looking legit.
"Nasty business, that. Apparently, the esteemed Lord Bertram decided a little vacation was in order after everything, and wouldn't you know it, he packed a rather hefty sum from the Guild's coffers along for the ride as well. We're talking a near royal-wedding-sized dowry here, my lord. Vanished, all of it.
"The details are still murky, but rumor has it Bertram might have gotten tangled with pirates operating from the Broken Isles. One of the [Pirate Kings], perhaps—or most likely. So, the Merchants' Guild has been refraining from giving out loans. And, my apologies to say this, my lord, but you're a high-risk individual, and you already have quite the debt with them... They wouldn't want to give more."
Lord Theodore already had a mountain of debt on his name... The interest rate was more than what Lord Theodore could pay off even if the crops did better than planned. Given that the Adventurers' Guild of this sector had been rather short on manpower lately due to a dungeon incursion in the town, Corinth, lying beside theirs and given that Lord Theodore had a tendency for tax evasion and then laundering… Yeah, they were royally fucked. Even if in this situation, Lord Theodore wanted a loan for himself... Roland just gave up. Maybe it was time to return to his master, Lord Theodore's father, and just ask him to appoint him somewhere else—he couldn't deal with this scumbag anymore, not in his current state.
"I see, they wouldn't. Not surprising. It seems I'm going to have to hire a [Necromancer] by my lonesome."
Roland blinked. "That's..." a shock, Roland stopped himself from saying. [Necromancers] cost a hefty sum, and given that Lord Theodore was already under debt and likely the financial situation of Holden was anything but optimal, hiring a [Necromancer] would've put a huge dent in Holden's already meager reserves. However, Roland hadn't imagined, not in his wildest dreams, that Lord Theodore would be employing one by his lonesome.
Throughout his life, Roland had known this man to not even spare a thought to anything that wasn't his immediate self-gratification, or his amusement and satisfaction. How was the wastrel noble suddenly going to change?
"My lord, my apologies for asking, but why do you require a [Necromancer's] assistance?" Roland finally asked, schooling his shocked expression.
"Oh, I have some... theories regarding the Blight." Lord Theodore grinned. "And a [Necromancer] might just be someone who we need in order to solve this problem once and for all."
Roland was shocked to his core, once more. "But, my lord, the treatment for the Blight isn't something common folk can afford? So, how...?"
"Nonsense, Roland. Forget that rudimentary concoction they peddle as a cure. I envision a more... permanent solution. Issue a commission at the Adventurers' Guild—a [Necromancer] or perhaps a [Witch], their talents are equally suited for this task."
"Yes, my lord." Roland bowed, failing to comprehend what Lord Theodore was planning on doing.
-2-
When Roland left, Ethan found it easier to relax. The stiff, aristocratic manners these people employed were rather annoying to bear with. No, they were rather hard to imitate, more accurately. Because despite his efforts, he'd still found it hard to match their ways, but it was doable. Not good enough, yet, but doable.
"How should I, going forward, act, then?" he muttered. "Because if I've understood a single thing, it is this: Theo's character as I know it now will ruin any chance of me, well, earning anything, be that respect, wealth, power, or all three. Should I continue as him, then, or completely overhaul Theodore's character and pretend it's some epiphany? A spiritual enlightenment, perhaps?"
Ethan shook his head. Whatever it may be, he wasn't planning on being like Theo. Let's go with a gradual change in mannerism.
First, however, he needed to deal with the Blight issue. Which would be easily dealt with—all he had to do was pay the [Necromancer], or [Witch], from his own pouch. Then, he needed to figure out this town's financial status and everything else in order to organize a working infrastructure and create new financial opportunities. Afterwards, he could move onto his 'character', if that is indeed what his situation required. There's a lot to do.
Before everything, however, a bath.
After all, he reeked of sweat and alcohol, among other not-so pleasant scents.
...
It took no more than a few minutes for a handful of servants to prepare the bath. Hot water steamed inside the spacious tub as soap bubbles glistened—soap that was far too expensive for the common folk. Despite being a luxury, its quality was arguably trash. Regardless, this was all the people had in this world. A strong scent of lavender permeated the air and tickled his nose as he undressed. A few maids had prepared for his comfort and placed a silken bathrobe alongside a set of towels on a small table near the bathtub before he'd dismissed them, ordering them to inform the kitchen staff that he would like his meal soon.
Ethan relaxed his shoulders, took the robe with one hand, and tossed it carelessly nearby. It was fine silk. Ethan shook his head before proceeding with an easy grace into the water. It was hot. Yet, Ethan felt rather cold, despite the heat. It helped him relax, and with it, the stiff persona that was Lord Theodore faded.
Ethan sank deeper, letting his long blond locks loose. A quick thought made him bring his hand forward. What if... he could make a fire? Just a little one, like a candle flame. How cool would that be? He focused, willing a tiny spark to appear on his fingertip. Nothing. Just a sputter and a fizzle.
"Hmm," he mumbled, undeterred. "Maybe I need to practice."
He doubted it was just understanding. After all, the skill [Elemental Spells] had given him the barest hints of the basics of how to create a basic spark of flame. He lacked control over mana. [Magic Perception] allowed him to view his mana—flowing, fast-moving streams and spiraling, coiling vortexes. It was chaotic; it was a mess! Maybe if he calmed it down, he could actually make something happen?
Easier said than done, he quickly learned. When he moved it, it took no less effort than bending metal with brute force. The feeling was there, and the will, too. Just the act of 'moving' it alone was a herculean effort. It seemed nigh impossible.
Maybe I'm doing it wrong?
Humming, Ethan looked through the snippets of memories he'd gotten from Theodore. The memories, he found, weren't entirely useless; as his mind drifted back and forth from those flashes, he did remember something Theodore had seen last night... There! A memory from last night—a drunk mage at the bar, showing off with a fireball for some girl who didn't seem too impressed.
"Let's see how that trick works," Ethan grinned.
With [Magic Perception], he saw how the spell flowed. The "spell" was, in a way, forced outwards into reality through the use of symbols he quickly recognized as runes—at least that was what he assumed after seeing the fireball.
Ethan could easily recall the shape of the rune that'd appeared before the fire took form on top of the mage's hand.
I'm pretty sure it's not possible to view runes. I assume, at least, from what little fragments of memories I got from Theo. Anyway, let's move my mana in the shape, then.
He imagined the shape on top of his hand and willed the mana to pour into it. Soon, rune motes started forming out of thin air, ripping into reality. Forming into a shape he willed, a rune burned brightly and loudly atop his palm. As he drew his hand forward, flames burst into life, flickering before fizzling out.
[Basic Magic Script] — Lvl 1 -> Lvl 2!
Congratulations! You have gained skill: [Basic Rune Creation]!
"Whoa." Ethan stared at his hand, a wide grin splitting his face. So that's how it works! Runes, huh? That's awesome! Ethan felt like a child again. He couldn't wait to try again, this time with a smaller flame, as it appeared that a fireball was far too much for his lacking skill and control. Magic... it was epic stuff!
Before that, however, he looked at the new skill he'd gained.
~Basic Rune Creation – Level 1~
Type: Active
Effect: You have grasped the fundamental concept of using runes to channel and shape your mana for basic magical effects. The Connection between two of your skill—[Magic Perception] and [Basic Magic Script]—has resulted in the creation of a new skill. You can now create simple runes that allow for the manipulation of elemental energy on a small scale. As your skill level increases, you will be able to create more complex runes, allowing for more powerful and versatile spells. You may also learn to combine runes for even greater magical effects.
Ethan stared. Reading the description was a quick matter of concentration. It took him by surprise, however, when he realized it. Rune creation? Huh. Does that mean I can create anything? The thought alone was exciting. What about rune motes? Rune motes were fragments of runes, combining certain fragments could result in a full rune. I saw them congregating into the shape of a rune, but is it possible to just create rune motes and not a full rune? I should try.
Regardless of his thoughts, it was creation—
—and Ethan loved creation. Even as a child, he had never gotten tired of tinkering with things. He still recalled the time he'd gotten his first Lego set. Just putting random pieces together with no thought for a bigger picture—he'd loved that. He'd loved doing all sorts of stuff with Legos, creating different castles or other complex structures, but it was building something completely random and ridiculous, yet unique nonetheless, which gave him the most sense of satisfaction. It was fun. It was a hobby—a hobby that ignited in him a fire of passion for innovation.
It was then the thought of being a civil engineer had sprung up in his mind. To put it simply, a civil engineer is responsible for planning, designing, and constructing buildings. Though, that was just a general term. Ethan would have been perfectly happy had he chosen that. Unfortunately, his father had wanted him to become a boxer, instead.
The man wanted to become one himself in his prime, but due to health issues, he'd quit right before making it to a big league. He'd hoped his son would achieve what he couldn't and bring victory for the family. Even though Ethan hadn't exactly planned boxing as his future, but who could refuse the pressure his old man put on him? Especially when he'd been just a little boy?
It was another matter entirely that Ethan fell in love with boxing, too, as it made him feel alive. The sensation of a punching bag slamming against his fists? Nothing quite made his blood boil like that.
And oh, fighting in the ring. There was just something about the sport Ethan couldn't resist.
Something about creation, fighting, and experiencing a bit of both, had Ethan wishing he could try the other options that lay in front of him now.
Could he make a real spaceship, in this world?
It sounded silly as fuck and he knew it. Nonetheless, the temptation was still there, hovering and nagging at the edge of his mind, as ridiculous as his previous thoughts might have been.
Spaceships are cool, dammit.
That thought suddenly gave Ethan pause. "Let's just return to practice."
This time, fire flickered atop his fingertips for a second longer.
Another second was added on top of that after his third try.
The light was dim. However, it did mean something: improvement.
[Elemental Spells] — Lvl 1 -> Lvl 2!
Grinning like an idiot, Ethan sank deeper into the hot bath water and brought his other hand up to repeat the exercise for the next half an hour or so, occasionally reading a notification that would come every now and then.
[Elemental Spells] — Lvl 2 -> Lvl 3!
[Elemental Spells] — Lvl 3 -> Lvl 4!
[Elemental Spells] — Lvl 4 -> Lvl 5!
But no matter what, he couldn't get it to level up to level 6, nor could he level up [Basic Magic Script] from level 2 to 3.
Why not, though? I'm doing—
"Don't rush," he chided himself. "Your control is pitiful, shaping is trash, and your spellcasting is akin to tossing stones into the sea without even knowing how to make it bounce—guesswork is all you are, but it's a good start, I suppose."
As he set a handful of candle-like flames afloat on all five of his fingers, his lips quirked into a wide smirk. It was only a party trick. For now, that is. I need to find more about magic and learn. I've been winging it.
That was true; he didn't understand anything about magic. All he'd done so far was try to emulate the rune he'd seen in the memory snippet through the help of [Magic Perception] and cast a few party tricks. Was that impressive? He had literally no comparison to base off of, thus why he knew he needed to learn more.
Theodore's memories proved to be useless in this regard, too. His father hadn't found him worthy enough to be assigned a mage as a tutor. Theodore was a disappointment through and through, and that's why he'd been sent to rule the bordertowns.
He could cast the spell, yes, but he didn't understand the underlying concepts that fueled the magic or what the process was.
-3-
Ethan descended down the stairs that would lead him to the dining room where breakfast had already been laid out for him. Two maids were present as well. It was a feast of the likes he'd only ever read in fairy tales. Fried, scrambled, boiled eggs. Different shapes, sizes, and cuts. Cakes and pies in varying quantities and sizes. Grilled meat, smoked and salted. How could he ever eat everything alone?
Ethan exhaled and then dove in; however, he still maintained decorum as it was imperative to do so given that he was a noble now. Regardless, once done, he made it to the meeting room given that he had some people to meet today.
"Barely breaking even," Ethan muttered, flicking the parchment in his hand. He frowned at the financial situation of Holden, the town he was in charge of. The bordertowns consisted of a series of towns lying on the periphery of the borders. Each town was a barony in name, and nobles—especially troublesome nobles—were often sent here to practice ruling and to make them accustomed to how the common folk lived, so they could empathize with the people they ruled.
With how many bandits the region had had lately, the Blight, debt, tax, and interest that'd ramped up, Ethan's current situation was mind-fucking at best and a keg waiting to explode at worst.
I don't want to deal with Theo's issues.
Not only was this whole situation something Ethan did not want in the slightest, a whole can of worms that were Theo's problems was thrust into his hands. Ethan had held no fantasies of getting isekai'd. That was suicide in his books. He'd have been more than happy to die and meet oblivion. But now that he was here…
Leaning back into his chair, Ethan rubbed his eyes. Yeah, he needed to deal with everything and make the best of his situation to live a comfortable life. When Roland returned with a man in tow, Ethan hummed.
The man was young, younger than Roland, even. Black hair and sharp green eyes. He held himself high with confidence and Ethan recognized him instantly. Isn't he that mage from the bar?
"My lord," Roland bowed. "I have brought a [Necromancer] as per your command."
The [Necromancer] bowed and with a thin smile said, "Pleased to be at your service, my lord. The name's Jack."
Hm. So he wasn't a mage but a [Necromancer].
"Likewise," Ethan replied with a nod, then leaned forward, smiling. "Say, Jack, would you like to be part of a business opportunity?
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Hey guys!
I am looking for a way to build strength in my legs, but not increase their size. My pants already feel tight enough in the thigh area and I do not want them to grow much bigger (a small increase would be okay).
I am 20M and plan to play volleyball on the colegiant level, so I want to improve my vertical as much as possible. My thought process is legs make you jump, if legs are stronger then jump is higher (correct me if I’m wrong).
I am unsure of which exercises to do to achieve that, but I have heard a lil about kettlebell workouts and would love to know if there is a workout routine that would help find a solution to my problem.
I also have poor knees. I had a fast growth spurt and I believe my knees hurt due to that. I have not gone heavy on workouts for my legs due to that and the fear of making them worse. Whenever I bend my knees to squat down, my patellar tendon hurts. Any tips on how to make it better?
TLDR; I want to make my legs stronger. I want to increase my vertical but I also have poor knees. Any workout help on what I should do?
All the help will be greatly appreciated! 🙂
Edit 1: Legs is general. I want to grow my glutes and hamstrings, but I want to keep my thighs relatively the same size.

⚠️ I AM NOT A FINANCIAL ADVISOR NOR IS THIS FINANCIAL ADVISE ⚠️
LAST POST - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/WI23AzJicY
Okay folks, this is the calm before the storm. These Big Bad Suits are annoyed at us peasants for the inconvenience we’ve caused them. SEC Rule 201 definitely put a dent in their attack on us but Tuesday and Wednesday is when we will see red, there will be blood shed. But before we get to Hump Day, let’s talk about Tuesday. 👇🏼
What can happen Tuesday? Well here’s what we know: SEC Rule 201 (Read here to catch up - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/p31Ny3av49 ) was implemented and is taking effect until 1 hour before pre stock market hours are on. So AFTER that specific time, what can the majority of Tuesday look like? Well, Hedge’s are desperate, we closed off strong Monday night, and they can feel the heat. They can short ladder attack us starting Tuesday, So what’s their other form of attack? Mass selling. The Hedge’s will mass sell their owned shares, causing a start in a dip. We saw them do this Monday morning, when we opened regular stock market hours with a CRAZY $2.25/share price point. This was the beginning of a butterfly effect. See, shortly after that, Hedge’s started a short sell, which, say it with me now, started a dip in the price! We went from $2.25 to $1.80 in just one hour. I’d like to remind all you silly apes that once Hedge’s sell their shares, the rest of the dip falls in our hands. How? Heres how: The intention of a sell like this is purely psychological, especially at a stage like this. The Hedge’s want us to watch the price point fall steadily, hoping that we’ll be convinced the stock is done for, and we’ll sell our shares. If enough of us do that, the Hedge’s get what they want: profit.
Rich people getting richer. 😡
So how do we theoretically fight this? How do we take advantage of the dip without making it worse? Good question my little ape, you’re asking all the right questions. There’s one way as of right now and one way only. Do I really have to say it? 🤨 Don’t make me say it… 🙄 YES! BUY AND HOLD! If I had a share for every time I had to say this this…
Now, I know exactly what you’re thinking. “Buy and Hold? That’s sounds simple.. but.. when do I buy?” Here’s the thing, when the Wolves in Suits start this quick short sell, so does the dip. If all you smart little apes play your role, and simply do not sell, then theoretically (😉) The price of the stock is bound to bounce back up. The correct answer is to pay very close attention to the price per share when the dip begins, and to buy when YOU feel is right. Some of us can’t necessarily watch the price too closely though, so here’s some tips:
Big thank you u/djluciter to for bringing this up
Explore your broker for options regarding notifications once the stock reaches a certain price point. For Ex: If you’d like to know about a considerable dip, Robinhood has this option available. You can set a notification for if we fall below a price point of $1.50/share, allowing you to become notified of that certain price point where you’d like to buy in without having to watch the market for too long.
For those who are a little better at reading the stock market, there are Limit Orders. What’s this? Well, let’s say you notice a dip starting to occur, and at the time of you viewing $FFIE it’s at a price point of $1.95/share. You believe it’s going to fall down to $1.70/share, so you put in a limit order for 100 shares @ $1.70/share. 12 minutes after you do that the price point of $FFIE falls even lower to $1.60/share. Your broker should have automatically fulfilled your order of 100 shares @ $1.70/share because the stock eventually fell down to that price. You wouldn’t have to take a single look at the market! To most, that sounds like the easiest way to go, but remember there’s still risk to this! If the contrary happens, and the lowest $FFIE falls to is $1.85/share, you’re order will have never went through since it never touched $1.70/share. That means you would miss out on all the sweet sweet shares, so only do this if you are FULLY confident in that the price point will touch a certain number.
It’s important to remember, we’re moving as a unit and as a unit we are holding, so don’t fret and panic when you see a dip. Remember there is an opposing side trying to win over us, and that is their doing. The dip will come, and apes will be buying and holding. Do not get too greedy, and do not wait too long
Okay, that’s the majority of Tuesday out of the way, what about late Tuesday, when the SEC rule 201 is no longer in place? Well my friends, here’s the truth. I don’t have my magic ball to tell me exactly what will happen. Sorry - I let a friend borrow it and they never gave it back. But seriously, no one can tell you what exactly will happen. But I can give you an educated guess 🤓☝🏼
With Hedge’s being able to short ladder attack us again, and them also having 0.04 days to cover their short interest, they’re gonna want to close this out fast, and believe me they will have full intent to obliterate us. The truth is, they can come for us Tuesday night, or Wednesday morning. One thing is for sure, they will come at us with every intent of finishing this once and for all, but no matter what masquerade they put on with their short sells and short ladder attacks, the power is in our hands as far as we hold. We gain more power as we buy. Remain vigilant, and remain supportive.
READ HERE TO LEARN ABOUT A SHORT LADDER ATTACK - https://www.reddit.com/FFIE/s/DNHmPInEnJ

TL;DR - this is an extremely long rant, feel free to skip ❤️
Hey. Im a 17 year old male of British Bangladeshi ethnicity from South London. Ive just recently been diagnosed with ME/CFS, and it has truly ruined my life already within the span of 4 months; although they suspect that I had had the illness for nearly 9 years prior to the diagnosis.
I'm sure everyone on this page is familiar with the notion of this illness ruining people's lives. But I feel I must share more about my story to you all, because I need help.
When I was 9, my father was diagnosed with stage 4 blood (Hodgkin's Lymphoma) cancer, and 6 years later or so; having survived the initial cancer, he came down again with yet another stage 4 cancer in his bowel. I was there on the day of diagnosis of the first cancer, and never really understand it all as a child. Furthermore, I never really got to be a child. With my father being ill, i was stuck being almost a nurse for him at home, while trying to do my best in other aspects of my life. I didn't cry. I didn't moan. I would just try and help my mum as much as I could.
The issue then was at the time, I was suffering from major physical issues, where the possible diagnosis spanned from juvenile arthritis to just growing pains. It was a nightmare, but it was still liveable and I was still able to somewhat enjoy my time in my hobbies I had at the time and with my friends at school. This would turn out to be the initial showing signs of the ME that has struck me down 8 years later.
Fast forward to present day, I'm currently bedbound, or more sofa-bound, as our family has always struggled financially. I dont have my own room. I dont even have a wardrobe in this house to call my own. A place to put the things a 17 year old needs to put. But thats not the main issue. Im a young 17 year old man, yet I haven't gone to school in months. Currently in Year 12, having done extremely well in my GCSEs and having had a year 10 with a relatively symptom free year, year 11 was when it all really started. My school attendance for year 11 was 56%, yet I was just able to do well in my GCSEs because, lets be honest, in the grand scheme of things they're not very difficult. But for A-levels, with my current attendance of 31%, it is just not possible to do well in this way.
I was also a major talent in football. Ever since I was born, i had a passion for playing the sport, and had gotten pretty good at it; playing for Fulham academy for a while in the younger years when I was more physically capable. As i grew older, I attented trials at Crystal Palace and got in, but had to pull out due to 'injury'. This was my one passion. My only proper passion in life.
ME has ruined my life. I was seen as an extremely gifted individual in both academic and athletic aspects, but because of the brain fog and constant migraines and of course the fatigue and physical implications of the cfs, all of that has gone down the drain. I can't deal with this anymore. I've been stuck at home for months. I cant have my friends over because the house is too small. I cant get out of the house because standing for more than 5 minutes makes me dizzy (I also suffer from POTS). My father, who had become crazy from his double dose of max power chemo, and had already given up on life and is now depressed and stuck at home with me, is the only face I see in the mornings. My brother has a life to live at 21 years old, so he must ignore us in a way to protect himself. My mother. I want to kms for how much sufferage ive caused my mum. she didn't get married for this. she didnt have kids to live like this.
Ive been struggling with sever clinical depression due to the cfs, as expected. But, as is normal in an asian household for a young man, emotion doesn't exist. Even my depressed, crazy father doesnt see depression and sadness as an emotion, more just a defect of life. I need help. No doctors know anything about this stupid illness. therapists tell me to do some exercise and get out in the sun, even when i tell them i cannot stand and just attending the session is a huge challenge.
I miss my friends. I miss myself, Im not who i once was. I don't love football anymore. I cant learn anything like i used to enjoy doing when i was younger. even things as little as gaming has suffered, because i cant even concentrate and my eyesight suffers from the constant migraines. im going insane from the constant headache. how can a 17 year old live like a 90 year old? how can a boy remenisce on his life as if hes even lived it? the only time my brain seems to work is when im desperate at 3 am in the long sleepless nights the goddamn insomnia causes. there was a period where i didnt sleep for 3 weeks straight. the other people my age seem to be living life, actually growing and making memories. my closest friend group have made plans to go to spain for the summer. they know i cant go with them. this hurts. i cant even cry. i dont have a place in my house, and i was raised so that i didnt show any emotion other than happiness to my parents. i cried for the first time in my mature lifetime in front of another human being in my first therapy session. it didnt feel normal. I told my therapist, 'crying always felt like i was admitting defeat' and i still feel that way, but she pointed out that this was because of how i was raised. is this really what life is? ive always been an overly empathetic person and it has gotten to the point that i dont even want to meet someone in a romantic setting or get married or whatever, because i dont want whatever is happening to my mum to happen to my future wife, where she has to take care of a useless thing like me. im not worth that and i couldnt bare the guilt of ruining a girls life just to say i got married to her. the reality of my loneliness in the future is dawning on me, or even worse the reality of depending on my parents as a middle aged adult. id rather die.
It was always my dream to travel and leave England, and live and die in Spain or Chile. ive even learnt spanish, almost B level fluency after a couple years of learning. I guess id have to forget that now.

Just gonna bitch a bit, thanks.
Grew up in a deplorable and abusive situation where no adult would help a child out. my parents' abuse ranged from petty neglect to starving us out to physical and sexual abuse. this went on from my earliest memories to teen years. everyone wondered why i was so closed off or why my brother was so angry, but no one would help. i ran off and went homeless since it felt like a step up, but my brother was taken in by my father who spent our whole lives turning a blind eye to what our mother did. he decided that me running off was a wake up call so he divorced my mother and he got my brother all the help he needed and put him through school. i tried reaching out to him and he just said his plate was full making sure my brother was good.
ok
so i spent the next several years getting my shit right. i worked my ass off and got a car, so i went from sleeping in the street to sleeping in a junky car. small wins and all that. years go by and i just drift. i tried enlisting in the navy during this time but was sent home from boot camp due to a back injury that they didn't want to fix. i sold my car before i left since i didn't have anywhere to keep it and i hoped i wouldn't need it anymore, being government property at that point and all. icing on the cake was that the navy lost my box of civilian belongings they were supposed to hold on to. so now i was back to square one. dropped off at the airport in bright navy pt clothing, with no phone, no wallet, no money, just a drivers license since we were allowed to hold onto id's like that.
fuck
once again reach out to my dad and explain my situation. he just calls me a failure. i reach out to my brother who at this point was done with school and working a swanky job and had an apartment with a spare room. he blames it all on me. everything. all of our past abuses and any current struggle of his. i guess it was easier to blame me and have a boogeyman.
so i ran again
i ended up on the other side of the country and was busting my ass again, but i picked up a stride. things were actually going well. my job gave me a couple raises and i got an apartment. i was actually eating more than beans and rice now. i was gaining weight and started exercising and putting on muscle. i made some friends and for the first time in my life felt happy and confident. shit, i even got attention from girls now when we went out. first time i tried having sex with a girl, i had a panic attack and she acted very understanding and held me that night while i just rocked back and forth and cried. i tried so hard to forget what our mother and whoever else she brought over had done to us but i guess its not so easily forgotten by the body and soul. but she told all of my friends and they just pointed and laughed. only one reached out and tried to help. small blessings.
here we go
that friend had actually helped a lot. they got me in contact with a counselor who worked with a local charity and got me sessions for free. the journey to unpack my past was hell. i wont sugar coat it. there was more than i thought i remembered. suppressed shit came flooding back. so much hate and anger and despair filled my life until i just felt numb to it. i became indifferent. then my mother reached out. my brother had my contact info, so he gave it to my dad, who then gave it to my mother. she said she wanted to apologize and that she spoke to her priest and went to counseling yada yada. i was hesitant but heard her out. i thought she was serious. spoiler alert, it was actually about making herself feel better rather than actually apologizing. apparently she was remarrying to a man that i would later find out she was having an affair on my dad with. this man was a hyper-religious catholic and was making her just through hoops of atonement for her infidelity (WITH HIM) and neglect of her children. he didn't know about everything else. when i told her i don't forgive her, her husband went off about how ungrateful i am
open the floodgates
i went off about everything that happened and what she did, what she invited into our home, and what she allowed to be done. it was liberating to be able to go off like that. it was unhinged. her and her new hubby to be just sat silent until i was done. she started yelling that i was a liar and a piece of shit. she went on and on saying all the things a mother should never say to her child. i hung up and broke down. everything was back. that night i tried to end it. i took enough pills that i should have fallen asleep forever. i woke up. i got ready for work.
who am i
things felt distant then. i don't know why but it just felt different. maybe i did actually die and became someone else. i just didn't care at that point. i kept the one friend and still went to counseling but i never said anything about that night. not to anyone. i enrolled into a good program at a local community college. i took out loans. i studied hard. i made some friends but i kept them at a distance. i started going out more. i met a girl. i had sex. i got clingy. we broke up. wash, rinse, repeat a few times until i met this girl in my class. she was international student and i was big into foreign languages and lucky for me her native tongue was what i was learning. we started a friendship and i would practice my language skills on her.
what am i doing
i got offered a gig overseas. it was contingent on graduating but that wasn't long from now. the pay was shit but it seemed like a fun experience. it was in the same country my new friend was from and that was cool. spoiler alert, the job was bullshit and they were just trying to screw with me but that's another story, i never went there for it. so i keep talking to her and we start a relationship. things go smooth and well. she was great. as far as she knows, i have no past and no family. she has to move back to her home country to finish university and i decide to go for my 4 year as well.
moving
so i move to a cheaper area of the country and take out more loans for university. i get into a competitive program. i also start writing again around this time. reading and writing were always my rock growing up and i dreamed of being an author. this girl and i are in a long distance relationship and things were not easy. but fast forward a few more years and i finally finish school. during this time we also got engaged and decided i would move to her country. she had roots there and i didn't so i left.
new life
i get there and i get a good job making a good salary. my life is going over well now. but my mom and dad found my wife on social media. my dad just told her to be careful of me and my mom sent her heaps of messages detailing some fantastic story of me being a demon and the antichrist. my wife confronted me on this and got distant. she threatened divorce but i refused to talk about my past. so she filed but we never executed it. i stayed in a different place to give her space. i didnt want to lose her so i asked to go to marriage counseling. it took a while but she finally agreed. we went and i opened up. she was hesitant to believe me but finally did and we reconciled. however there has been a few times where she has hit me when frustrated or touched me in ways i ask her not to. this wasnt a thing before. i also found out she went out with some friends before we went to counseling and some things dont make quite a lot of sense. she says she just went out with friends but other things suggest she did that but wasnt with her friends the whole time. but nothing 100%. she also had an ex from when she was at college with me. they broke up over LDR when she wanted to date me but we were just friends. i didnt know about this until much later. i found evidence that shortly after she moved back to her home country, he reached out and professed his love for her after she was apparently bragging about her new foreign boyfriend to some of their mutual friends. the evidence suggests that they met up. i never knew about this. it wasnt hidden from me, i just never knew is all.
nose to the grindstone
so i just continued on. i would go to work and bust my ass. i would come home and spend all my time in my home office writing my stories or programming. i had learned some game development and was trying to self publish. eventually i got a game greenlit to go on steam. it was nothing special and all but i was proud of myself. i told my wife who called it a cute hobby and went back to playing with the dog i got her some time ago. definitely left me dejected. so i kept writing. finally, i finished my book. i poured my heart and soul into it. it was an ode to everything i endured and who i was. i cried more than once making it. i kept it quiet and reached out to an agent and some publishers. i go praised for it and everyone said how good it was but no one would publish it. not because of the book though. the agent came back and plainly told me that no one wants to hear my voice right now. i asked him to elaborate. he did. it came down to my race and gender. suggestions were to use a pen name and never be seen next to the book or have someone else from a "preferred demographic" take all the credit and i would get a cut. i said no. it was too ridiculous for me. after everything i did, this is what it came down to. what the fuck.
and so say we all
there is much more to all this but this is already too long and i dont want to get into too much detail or get graphic, so here i am. i have a good job and a good home. i am in my home office. i have the manuscript right here next to me. my wife is in the other room playing with the dog and going out with friends later. i still have those divorce papers in my desk, she doesnt know i still have them. i have no friends, i tried to make some but the guys get standoffish and the girls tend to fetishize my demographic so it never worked. plus if my wife thinks another girl is even looking at me, she gets enraged. people already have their social circles here so adding a foreigner into the mix isnt appealing. i have no family. i am alone while surrounded. i want to die but i dont.
i am tired but no sleep is to be found.