It stormed in Starfall.
Perhaps elsewhere, too. Allyria couldn’t be sure. But a storm never kept a raven from its duties, and so surely that wasn’t an excuse for hers to have not yet returned from the North. Not that she was expecting a reply – she never got those from Widow’s Watch – but it was unusual for the bird to be gone as long as it was and Allyria tended to worry about them after a while.
“Maybe he’s stopped to roost with some friends,” she wondered aloud. Birds were social creatures. Not like her.
From the north-facing windows of her tower, Allyria could see that the ironmen’s structures had held through the lashing rains and heavy winds of the past two days and were now awash in noon’s sunshine. Those structures would eventually be home to however many Dornishmen who’d joined the Princess’ caravan thus far on their way to the Great Council.
Time was running out. They’d be here soon.
Allyria thought the sight of the waiting tents might make her sad – a reminder that Lord Erik had gone. But she had his gift to remember him by, and had already filled the secret compartment of the broken-looking far eye with treasures: a sea shell, a few coins, a small figurine of a sheep carved with wood and wrapped in real wool that was given to her when she was a child. She held the lens in her hands, fiddling with it as she gazed out the window in the hope of seeing black wings.
“I am talking to myself,” she said. “When I send letters to Widow’s Watch, I am addressing no one but myself.”
She had been writing the northern holdfast for years now. Allyria thought it a pity that star keepers outside the Citadel did not converse more with one another. She had never been North, and would likely never go, but she knew that the stars would look different from the peninsula jutting into the Shivering Sea than they did from here. Different, too, from Seagard and Bear Island. From the Fingers and from Claw Isle. But while Cailin passed to her the records of those maesters, there was none from that eastern holdfast – the small castle on the lonely strip of land jutting out into the wide, mysterious sea north of Essos.
She wrote them nonetheless.
Her raven always returned, but never brought with it a new message. What was done with the scrolls she attached – handwritten copies of her star charts, occasional questions and observations – she did not know. Perhaps the bird simply dropped them into the sea.
“I ought to stop talking to myself.”
Allyria gathered a few things and headed for the stairs that would take her down from her tower and into Starfall. It wasn’t often that she was awake during the daytime (she had the storm to thank for that) and she could do with some company.
Qoren was the obvious choice, but he had become difficult to find as of late. Perhaps it was because of the impending guests, but whereas normally he’d be waiting outside her chambers by nightfall, now she found herself charting the stars alone, occasionally opening the door to her tower in the hopes of finding him. But she was always disappointed. Tonight she resolved to go further than the top of the tower stairs, however. She’d go all the way to the barracks, if she had to. And it turned out she did.
“Qoren, milady?” The sentry outside seemed doubtful as to whom she was asking for. “The deaf one?”
“Yes, Qoren.”
“I think he’s in the yard with Lady Arianne.”
“Could you tell him I was looking for him when he gets back?”
Satisfied with his obligatory promise to do so, Allyria wandered up to the rookery a second time. Her bird had still not returned. The last message she’d sent Widow’s Watch was an unusual one, which was perhaps why she held out hope that this time, despite years of precedent, would be different. She’d written it half-awake after being pulled from a strange dream. In it, the Dornish Princess arrived at Starfall wrapped in long silk made from moonlight. She’d brought with her a chest and in it were the remains of Ulrich: his ribs, his skull, his arm. The chest was leaking blood all over the floor of the great hall, pooling at the Princess’ feet, but the hem of her silvery gown was not stained. It seemed to sit atop it, like oil upon water.
Allyria had described the dream in her letter and carried it to the rookery while still in her bare feet and nightgown, sleep crusted in her eyes. She’d been in the process of binding it with string when a final thought occurred to her, which she hastily scribbled at the bottom of the parchment.
If the sun sets in the west, how could darkness come from the east?
She pictured the raven stopping to roost in the rocky cliffs of the Prince’s Pass, her letter fastened to its ankle as it caught up with old friends. Perhaps they discussed her ramblings amongst themselves, swapping their own theories about what the cryptic message from the stars meant: darkness comes from the east. Perhaps they lined their nests with her parchment.
She meant to go back to her tower, perhaps catch some precious sleep before night fell and the stars came out, but Allyria found herself instead on one of the balconies overlooking the training yard. It wasn’t noise that drew her there, for Arianne and Qoren were quiet. The only sounds in their training was the shuffling of feet on sandy stone, a soft grunt here and there, the occasional muffled thud of steel greatswords on leather. Allyria wasn’t sure what it was that prompted her to pause and observe.
She leaned over the rail and watched them spar. They did not speak to one another, she noted, communicating only in nods and small gestures. Sometimes, when her sister was concentrating, she stuck her tongue out the corner of her mouth. But Arianne’s expression now was grim. She blocked and parried. She watched how Qoren moved his feet and imitated the motions.
Then, the sky darkened. For a moment, Allyria thought a new storm was rolling in. But this was a different sort of darkness. It was as though someone were slowly draping a veil over the whole world… except that she could see a thin layer of orange on the horizon, just beyond the castle’s walls. There, in the distance, it was day. But above Starfall, quite suddenly, it was night. The temperature sank, frogs in the banks of the Torrentine began to croak, shadows sprung up where none had been, and those that were there grew blacker, more distinct.
Allyira might have thought she were imagining things, but Arianne and Qoren had stopped their sparring and turned their gazes towards the heavens, along with every sentry on the wall. Around them, and around Allyria, too, guards were similarly staring at the sky in confusion and wonder. But no one spoke. They were all looking at the same sun – now a ball of black with only a thin halo of light around it – in a tense kind of confusion. It was disorienting. Allyria felt her heart thumping in her chest and realised, as though from a distance, that she was frightened. She had lived her whole life within these walls and yet the sight before her now was of another world.
So, too, were her sister and Qoren. Arianne was in the shade of the balcony but the steel of Qoren’s sword reflected a bar of silver light across her face. Beside her pale features, Qoren’s grew even darker in the black shadow – his dark hair was now black as pitch, his eyes obscured beneath black brows, even his armour, dyed leather, was black.
Darkness comes from the east.
Whole minutes passed before the day’s second sunrise seemed to happen before her eyes: the sky lightened, shadows returned to where they ought have been, and the sun grew bright and yellow once more. The frogs and the bank insects grew silent. Birds sang again.
Allyria flew.
Past guards, past guests, past the members of Starfall’s counsel, all headed in a panicked confusion towards the courtyard, Allyria ran. She took the stairs of the Palestone Sword tower two at a time, losing a sandal along the way but abandoning it entirely.
How could I have been so stupid? she wondered. Darkness from the east! It wasn’t the tree, it was never the tree!
In her chamber she found her desk in a state of disarray. Her work had been much more organised with Qoren’s involvement and the absence of it showed.
Darkness comes from the east. Dawn. Dawn!
She hadn’t yet found the chart she was looking for when she heard a pounding on the door. She ran to it quickly, dragging open the heavy wooden board and finding an unexpected face on the other side. Her confusion must have shown, because the steward began with his explanation.
“I don’t mean to disturb you, my lady, but a raven came and I thought you would want to read it right away.”
Allyria blinked.
“It’s from Widow’s Watch.”
She snatched the scroll from Colin’s hand the moment he showed it, unravelling it hastily as she rushed back to her desk. The astrolabe sat crooked on the wall. She didn’t realise she’d accidentally knocked it askew in her haste.
Pressing the parchment flat against her desk, she read the words written in an unfamiliar hand.
You are missing the second half of your riddle:
bringing with it dawn.
A drawing was etched beneath it and Allyria scanned the markings quickly. They painted a picture of the night sky, each star’s position carefully logged. The Crone’s Lantern, the Ghost and the Galley, the Sword of the Morning…
“It’s Qoren.”
Allyrica looked up from the paper at the astrolabe on the wall. The device that had deceived her.
“The next Sword of the Morning. It’s Qoren.”

Hi guys, does anyone know where I can find/whom I can buy decants of Victoria's secret perfumes?
Thank you xx

This is my favorite perfume/body spray by Victoria Secret. I’m very picky with scents and have been obsessed with Midnight Ivy. When I found it it was being discontinued, I bought a few bottles. I’m almost out now! 😩 Does anyone know of a scent that’s super similar??

"There's no way out but forward," admitted Partheon, "I have checked every crack, and every stone. We are sealed in. Excepting that way, of course."
Partheon pointed, and five more sets of eyes followed his finger down a dark corridor of dripping wet stone. The floor was smooth sandy grit. Two torches in sconces lit the immediate area.
Sir Fingle clanked a bit as he moved forward, "Then forward we shall press, for I shall not be daunted by the unknown."
"Unknown is the nature of many things, but this reeks of malevolence," mused Zertan, "The unknown is not to be feared, but malice warrants caution."
It was true. This was not normal. For one, none of them knew how they came to be standing in the corridor. It was simple enough- they were seated at a table, then they were here.
There was more to it than that, of course. Partheon had been dicing in the back room of a tavern that catered to well-heeled patrons who liked to slum it. The fare was top-notch, and the casual violence that often marked truly disreputable dens of iniquity was very rare, kept so by watchful yet unobtrusive men. However, the back room allowed the social upper crust to act as if they were in a raucous den of vice. Vice was certainly on display, which was why Partheon was making a killing at dicing. The excitement was such that no one paid close attention to his dice when he rolled. Served them right anyways- they wanted debauchery. Debauchery cost, and Partheon was simply an agent of that cost.
On a break from his hot streak- even slightly drunken nobility could lose too much to keep their jovial mood- Partheon was trying his hand at an even tougher mark. She was young, rich, and remarkably good at understanding that Partheon was not the class of patron one expected at The Gliding Crane. She smelled predator, and rather than run, dandled him on a finger as a plaything. Partheon was smitten.
Her voice was breathy in his ear as she nipped it, "I know that you have friends. Don't run, I know they are better behaved than yourself."
Her fingers walked over one of his shoulders and down his chest like a graceful spider, and Partheon shivered.
"This is perfect for a man with friends. Duke Mangiolais, my dear uncle, is looking for people. People who have a reputation for solving problems in creative ways."
Partheon smelled danger, and perfume. The perfume was winning.
"I know you're a creative man," she looked him in the eyes and her own blue-eyed intensity smoldered, "Creative enough to have better dice than anyone else here."
Partheon gulped and she smiled wider.
"It's quite alright, poppet, I won't hurt you. But you had better go tell your friends that you have a big day tomorrow. The Duke will be expecting you before lunch."
When Partheon returned to the rooms at the Crying Gull to let everyone know what had transpired, Deinara was the first to skewer him.
"You couldn't be happy with enjoying a break from all the hardship you can't stop moaning about, could you?" Deinara chided, "You had to push for more, always more. You had to get us embroiled in another scheme!"
Zertan urged calm, "Center yourself, wise one. Partheon will not change who he is overnight. You only increase your own suffering to take his failings upon yourself."
Partheon sputtered, "Failings! Hey, do you have any idea how much money I just made?"
"Enough to interest a Duke," mused Fingle.
Cordray nodded, "Like as not the Duke was already interested, but he doesn't want to be seen officially asking the likes of us for anything. Having one over on Lightfoot over here is just another feather in his hat."
Thistle looked up excitedly from rummaging for something in a pack. It was not her pack, but no one seemed to bother her about it.
"Does this mean I get to meet a Duke? I've never met a Duke! Will there be hazards involved?"
"Yes, Mistress Pywackett, there are always hazards in meeting with Dukes, Earls, or Margraves," assured Fingle, "But it seems we have no choice."
The next morning, seated around a table in the drawing room, wondering what the man could want, conversation was quiet and pensive. The Duke entered hurriedly, without anyone announcing his impending arrival. Sir Fingle thought that the mark of a very practical man with much to do.
"I am afraid, friends, that I lack the time and wit to give you the proper welcome you no doubt warrant. I am aware of your deeds," and with that he looked at Partheon and smiled, "but also aware that you have managed to escape doom and ruin many times to accolades and renown. In short, you are capable people, and your reputation is well-deserved.
"You thwarted the plans of the Lord of the Fell Marches. Your actions led to the dissolution of the Barony of Griswaller to good King Raeglestan. Lords Fendrip and Bell are both now no longer oppressing their populace with their war. And, let's see, yes, the Faery Queen now owes you a debt, and people may pass through the Wending Woods without peril.
"You are a menace to nobility," the Duke's congenial tone never changed, and and his eyes remained casting about as if he were hunted here in his own drawing room.
Sir Fingle tried to interject, "Realize, good Duke, that our causes have been just and true.…"
"Yes, yes, I know," interrupted the Duke, "You're all very good people. Especially you, Sir Knight. That's why it pains me to have to make sure you have skin in the game."
Partheon brightened, "If it's games you need, my Duke, I am your man."
The Duke smiled wanly, "Oh, it's games, of a sort. They begin soon, for all of you. Again, this isn't my idea, but I must see it done. You're all just so very... so plebeian! None of you considers how your actions affect the state of the world at large. You will."
And with that, the drawing room dissolved, and the dark corridor stretched ahead. Deinara held back.
"I won't be manipulated by that man! I can sit here for ages if needs be, my patience can bear it."
As if her words triggered something, or were simply coincidental, the wall ending the corridor began to move towards them, grating quietly over the smooth sandy grit.
Cordray backed up a step from where he had been inspecting the floor, "Now I know why I cannot see any spoor."
Thistle marched up to the advancing wall and pushed on it, her tiny form comically straining. She slid back along the smooth stone floor, sand grating under he sandals. She gave up and moved back, "I mean, I had to try."
Zertan nodded, "So must we all try. But I think that we are not meant to stop it. The unknown awaits us. Sir Fingle, if you would be so kind as to catch."
With that, Zertan grabbed a torch from the wall sconce and lobbed it softly towards Fingle. He then deftly plucked the other one out. As the tallest present, they held the torches above eye level, to avoid blinding anyone in the gloom.
They advanced, Sir Fingle's shield at the ready in front of him, torch lighting the way. Deinara and Cordray came just behind him, weapons to hand. Deinara's oaken staff prodded suspect places on the floor or wall. Cordray kept his small axes in either hand, ready to engage what might get past the brave knight in front.
Partheon already had a dagger in each hand, and tested more around his person, "I'm really not sure that we should be moving so quickly when we don't know what awaits ahead."
Zertan held his torch aloft and herded Thistle away from the advancing wall when she got too curious at its function to remember to step back, "We have no choice, Master Lightfoot. The wall will not stop."
Indeed, Thistle had lost two of her favorite pocket stones placing them in front of the wall. They simply went under the wall, puffs of dust escaping as they were ground into powder.
The corridor was growing shorter, as it was apparent from the dim shadows at the edges of the torches' light. The moving wall segment was picking up speed. A cautious walk had turned into a trot, then a full jog for every one. Cordray and Thistle, being the smallest and shortest were full-on running by the time the corridor came to a halt. The light showed nothing else- indeed, if they were indoors, the chamber they had entered was huge. No echo returned from the sound of Fingle crashing onto the ramp in front of them. Cordray, running as well his small legs would carry his slight frame, had slammed nose-first into Fingle's backside.

Today's additions are:

• We don't suck, we blow! - Chimneys (Tags: hip hop, jazz, rock, beat, beats, fusion, hip-hop, jazz, rock, samples, Hamburg) [JazzLab]
  
• Haishen - Awaken the Endless Deep (Tags: metal, rock, ambient, post-rock, progressive, Rochester) [Needlejuice]
  
• Vulvodynia - Entabeni (Tags: ) [Unique Leader]
  
• Intervals - memory palace (Tags: metal, progressive, rock, independent, instrumental, prog, Toronto) [Independent]
  
• Oppress. - The Subtle Art of Turning Gold into Shit (Tags: black metal, extreme metal, metal, death metal, United Kingdom) [Independent]
  
• Clæmus - Mercurial (EP) (Tags: metal, experimental rock, progressive metal, Wellington) [Independent]
  
• Francisco Domínguez - Arrosa xuriaren artean (Tags: classical, avant garde, contemporary, electronic, Vitoria Gasteiz) [Ensemble Sinkro]
  
• Markgraf - Hohenbaden (Tags: black metal, heavy metal, metal, Baden Baden) [Independent]
  
• Demersal - Demersal (Tags: metal, hardcore, metallic hardcore, screamo, Odense) [Independent]
  
• yaya bey - Ten Fold (Tags: hip hop, hip-hop, r&b, r&b/soul, rap, soul, Brooklyn) [Big Dada]
  
• Knocked Loose - You Won't Go Before You're Supposed To (Tags: metal, metalcore, beatdown, hardcore, metallic hardcore, numetal, sludge, Louisville) [Pure Noise]
  
• The Tangent - To Follow Polaris (Tags: rock, yes, genesis, prog, prog rock, progressive, progressive rock, van der graaf generator, London) [InsideOut Music]
  
• Sidus Atrum - “Розірване Небо (Torn Sky)” (Tags: female fronted metal, metal, atmospheric, blackened death doom, blackened doom, blackened doom metal, death doom metal, doom metal, ukrainian black metal, ukrainian metal, Kyiv) [Independent]
  
• GOD MOTHER - Sinneseld (Tags: death metal, grindcore, hardcore, metal, power violence, Stockholm) [Independent]
  
• Bab L' Bluz - Swaken (Tags: blues, psychedelic trance, funk, gnawa, Marrakesh) [Real World]
  
• Speed Dealer Moms - Birth Control Pill (Tags: electronic, idm, los angeles, analog, breakcore, breaks, experimental electronic, jungle, leftfield, rave, Winnipeg) [Evar]
  
• EABS - Reflections of Purple Sun (Tags: jazz, jazz fusion, ambient, breakbeat, hip hop, jazz, jazz-funk, poland, spiritual jazz, techno, Wrocław) [Astigmatic]
  
• Vaticinal Rites - Cascading Memories Of Immortality (Tags: brescia, death metal, italy, metal, Brescia) [Everlasting Spew]
  
• Thot - Delta (Tags: rock, industrial rock, noise rock, post-metal, post-punk, post-rock, Brussel) [Pelagic]
  
• Shane Parish - Repertoire (Tags: alternative, fingerpicking, folk guitar, jazz, music, solo guitar, Athens) [Palilalia]
  
• we broke the weather - Restart Game (Tags: boston, rock, garage prog, jazz fusion, math rock, nu-jazz, post-rock, prog rock, progressive rock, psych rock, stoner rock, Somerville) [Independent]
  
• Brad Mehldau - After Bach II (Tags: jazz, classical, genius, piano, piano solo, Amsterdam) [Nonesuch]
  
• Brad Mehldau - Après Fauré (Tags: jazz, classical, genius, piano, piano solo, Amsterdam) [Nonesuch]
  
• Sonus Umbra - Whiteout Hi Res (24 bit) (Tags: progressive rock, rock, Chicago) [Progrock.com's Essentials]
  
• Dälek - Negro Necro Nekros (Tags: hip-hop/rap, hip hop, hip-hop, rap, underground, underground hip hop, Union City) [Ipecac]
  
• Iravu/Mumuksu - Sudra (Tags: atmospheric black metal, black metal, death metal, extreme metal, metal, rabm, ambient, blackened doom, dark ambient, doom metal, red anarchist black metal, Malaysia) [Iravu]
  
• SVNEATR - Never Return (Tags: atmospheric black metal, black metal, blackened death metal, canadian black metal, metal, progressive black metal, Vancouver) [Prosthetic]
  
• SYK - eartHFlesh (Tags: metal, black-metal, death-metal, extreme-metal, groove-metal, progressive, Italy) [Season of Mist]
  
• Yi-Ting Lu - An Unopened Seashell (Tags: bassoon, contemporary classical, guitar, harp, piano, saxophone, New York) [New Focus]
  
• Dreare - Foregone (Tags: metal, drone, instrumental, post-metal, progressive, synth, Czech Republic) [Independent]
  
• Sithu Aye - Kindness (Tags: metal, djent, instrumental, progressive metal, Glasgow) [Independent]
  
• Mountainscape - Iridescent (Tags: blackgaze, metal, instrumental, post-blackmetal, post-metal, post-rock, soundtrack, Reading) [Celestial Diadem]
  
• Ehtëk - Íncst (Tags: atmospheric black metal, black metal, metal, post black metal) [Independent]
  
• no funeral records - Gil Cerrone / Letterbombs Split (Tags: australia, finland, kitchener, on, punk, emo, emoviolence, screamo, skramz, Canada) [Independent]
  
• Eat Your Own Head - The Trawler - EP (Tags: alternative, rock, alternative, grunge, independent music, math rock, math-rock, post-rock, rock, London) [Drongo]
  
• GNAW THEIR TONGUES - Hagetisse - The fountain of fallen stars (Tags: black metal, drone, experimental, Smallingerland) [Independent]
  
• Crystalline Thunderbolts Pierce The Sacred Mountain - Shine Like The Suicidal Madness Of The Sacred Amethyst (Tags: black metal, drone, experimental, Smallingerland) [GNAW THEIR TONGUES]
  
• No Teeth - Decadence In Breeding (Tags: experimental, art rock, experimental rock, garage, noise rock, post-punk, Newcastle Upon Tyne) [Post Post Music]
  
• JOURS PÂLES - DISSOLUTION (Tags: asphodèle, black metal, blackgaze, emotional black metal, french black metal, jours pâles, ladlo, melancolic metal, France) [Les Acteurs de l'ombre]
  
• Atavistia - Inane Ducam (I will lead into nothingness) (Tags: black metal, blackened death metal, death metal, melodic metal, metal, brutal metal, epic metal, melodic death metal, Vancouver) [Independent]
  
• Black Hole Deity - Profane Geometry (Tags: brescia, death metal, italy, metal, tech death metal, brutal death metal, tech death, Brescia) [Everlasting Spew]
  
• olim - Because (Tags: atmospheric black metal, black metal, blackgaze, metal, post black metal, post-black, Greater Sudbury) [Independent]
  
• Bleached Cross - Columns of Impenetrable Light (Tags: punk, darkwave, electronic, experimental, post-punk) [Independent]
  
• Windows96 - Yes Da Da Da (Tags: electronic, chillwave, psychedelic, synthwave, vaporwave, São Paulo) [Independent]
  
• ELECTROMANCER - Enforcer (Tags: thrash metal, 80s, metal, metalcore, instrumental, metal, progressive metal, synthwave, video game music, Australia) [Paul Wardingham]
  
• svrm - Прощання (Tags: black metal, metal, Kharkiv) [Independent]
  
• Chase Elodia - Have, Know, Want (Tags: jazz, indie, jazz, rock, Brooklyn) [Biophilia]
  
• Paradox Rift - Ensnared (Tags: metal, deathmetal, grindcore, melodic death metal, progressive metal, Cleveland) [Independent]
  
• MATTHEW SHIPP - THE DATA (Tags: jazz, matthew shipp, avant garde jazz, avant-garde music, free jazz, improvised music. rogueart, jazz piano, new york jazz, piano, Paris) [RogueArt]
  
• The Rhythm Method - Pastorale (Tags: acoustic, classical, experimental, classical, contemporary classical, experimental, flute, holiday music, new music, post asmr, string quartet, New York) [Independent]
  
• Katt Rán - SÁLA (Tags: alternative, folk, icelandic, nordic, pagan, viking, Delft) [Svart]
  
• John O'Gallagher - Beast (Tags: jazz, alto saxophone, free improv, free jazz, "john ogallagher", modern jazz, nu jazz, spiritual jazz, vinyl, whirlwind recordings, Birmingham) [Whirlwind]
  
• Liturgy - Immortal Life II (Tags: experimental, black metal, Brooklyn) [Independent]
  
• A Night In Texas - Digital Apocalypse (Tags: ) [Unique Leader]
  
• Like Moths To Flames - The Cycles Of Trying To Cope (Tags: metal, metalcore, hardcore, Columbus) [UNFD]
  
• Rendered Helpless - From Nothing Comes All (Tags: death metal, deathcore, doom, metal, progressive, slam, slamming brutal death metal, sludge, Christchurch) [Independent]
  
• Colin Stetson - The love it took to leave you (Tags: experimental, indie, jazz, instrumental, Montréal) [Envision]
  
• Cosmic Jaguar - El Era del Jaguar (Tags: death metal, metal, technical metal, technical thrash metal, thrash metal, avant-garde, progressive metal, world music, Zhytomyr) [Independent]
  
• BALWEZO WESTIJIZ - Tower Of Famine (Tags: black metal, sweden, Kitchener) [Profound Lore]
  
• Cruce Signatus - Cruce Signatus (Tags: dungeon synth, metal, synthwave & darksynth, Milwaukee) [Independent]
  
• Gaylord - Baseball Bats and Butterfly Knives (Tags: grind, grindcore, lgbtq, metal, queer, queercore, antifa, black metal, lgbtq, Canada) [Independent]
  
• Mark Guiliana - MARK (Tags: jazz, rock, electronic, instrumental, jazz and improvised music, Los Angeles) [Edition]
  
• Summoning The Lich - Under The Reviled Throne (Tags: death metal, metal, thrash metal, St. Louis) [Prosthetic]
  
• Houle - Ciel Cendre et Misère Noire (Tags: black metal, death metal, melodic black metal, metal, Paris) [Independent]
  
• Luna Li - When a Thought Grows Wings (Tags: alternative, dreamy, groovy, indie, pop, Los Angeles) [In Real Life]
  
• The Plot In You - Vol. 2 (Tags: alternative, hardcore, metal, metalcore, post-hardcore, rock, Ohio) [Fearless]
  
• Drawn from Ichor - Up Into The Wolfs Jaw (Tags: death metal, metal, Sheffield) [Independent]
  
• TESTO - Marya.Ivan (Tags: idm, world, dub, folklore, jungle, world music, Saint Petersburg) [Independent]
  
• Anna Gadt, Marta Grzywacz, Natalia Kordiak, Gosia Zagajewska - VOICEACT (Tags: anna gadt, cecil taylor, gosia zagajewska, impro, jazz, marta grzywacz, natalia kordiak, vice, free impro, fsrecords.net, improvisation, music, piano, Warsaw) [Fundacja Słuchaj]
  
• Pijn - From Low Beams Of Hope (Tags: experimental, rock, ambient, doom, drone, post-metal, post-rock, Manchester) [Floodlit]
  
• JACK - Split with Chadhel (Tags: rock, grindcore-crossover, hardcore, punk, Hungary) [Independent]
  
• Milton Nascimento & Esperanza Spalding - Milton + esperanza (Tags: jazz, New York) [Concord Jazz]
  
• Fake Fruit - Mucho Mistrust (Tags: punk, indie rock, lunchmeat, oakland, post-punk, wobbly, Oakland) [Carpark]
  
• Fire-Toolz - Breeze (Tags: electronic, idm, alternative rock, cybergrind, electro-industrial, emo, experimental, experimental electronic, fusion, glitch, grindcore, jazz fusion, new age, noise, noisecore, prog, Chicago) [Independent]
  
• Oxygen Destroyer - Guardian of the Universe (Tags: angelcorpse, metal, morbid angel, death metal, death thrash, death thrash metal, demolition hammer, kreator, morbid saint, vader, Seattle) [Redefining Darkness]
  
• Soften The Glare - EP III (Tags: rock, math rock, progmetal, progrock, Raleigh) [Independent]
  
• The Flying Luttenbachers - Spectral Warrior Mythos 2 (Tags: experimental, grindcore, modern classical, no wave, noise, post punk, New York) [UG Explode]
  
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• Цар Стангра - Битката за Фиорда - На живо в Сагене (Tags: black metal, bulgaria, metal, dark ambiant, folk, ritualistic, Canada) [Independent]
  
• Anarchÿ - The Spectrum of Human Emotion (Tags: melodic metal, melodic thrash metal, metal, technical thrash metal, progressive metal, progressive thrash metal, speed-metal, thrash, thrash metal, St. Louis) [Independent]
  
• PreHistoric Animals - Finding Love In Strange Places (Tags: alternative, alternative rock, prog rock, progmetal, Sweden) [Dutch Music Works]
  
• THE LAST OF LUCY - Godform (Tags: metal, brutal death metal, death metal, deathcore, grind, grindcore, hardcore, mathcore, progressive death metal, progressive metal, tech death, technical death, technical death metal, us death metal, United States) [Transcending Obscurity]
  
• And So I Watch You From Afar - Megafauna (Tags: alternative, instrumental, rock, Belfast) [Independent]
  
• ColdCell - Age Of Unreason (Tags: atmospheric black metal, black metal, depressive black metal, extreme metal, metal, Basel) [Independent]
  
• IXION - RESTRICTION (Tags: electronic, metal, ambient, androids, atmospheric metal, blade runner, doom metal, electronica, gothic metal, robots, synthwave, France) [Independent]
  
• William Soovik Grand Finale - Once More, Dear Friends! (Tags: contemporary jazz, experimental, free jazz, gothenburg jazz, grunge jazz, jazz, rock, saxophone, swedish jazz, Gothenburg) [Independent]
  
• Carb On Carb - Take Time (Tags: new zealand, punk, emo, emo revival, midwest emo, pop punk, Whanganui) [Independent]
  
• اکوان (Akvan) - سووشون (Tags: black metal, black metal from iran, blackened death metal, iran, iranian black metal, metal, Iran) [Independent]
  
• Claire Cross - Sleep Cycle (Tags: jazz, ambient, australian jazz, chamber, contemporary jazz, folk, minimalism, nu jazz, progressive rock, Berlin) [Art as Catharsis]
  
• Extortionist - Devoid Of Love & Light (Tags: deathcore, extortionist, hardcore, industrial, metal, metalcore, unique leader records) [Unique Leader]
  
• Sebastien Ammann - Change Of Course (Tags: jazz, New York) [Ropeadope]
  
• Pallbearer - Mind Burns Alive (Tags: epic doom metal, metal, Little Rock) [Nuclear Blast]
  
• COGNITIVE - Abhorrence (Tags: death metal, metal, progressive, slam, technical death metal, grindcore, Jersey) [Metal Blade]
  
• Botanist - Paleobotany (Deluxe Edition) (Tags: metal, avant-garde, black metal, experimental, hammered dulcimer, San Francisco) [Prophecy]
  
• NOCTURNUS AD - Unicursal (Tags: black metal, death metal, metal, heavy metal, Tampa) [Profound Lore]
  
• Kulk - It Gets Worse (Tags: alternative, norwich, doom, doom metal, heavy, post-metal, psychedelic, sludge, stoner metal, stoner rock, United Kingdom) [Human Worth]
  
• Inner Landscape - 3H33 (Tags: metal, post-hardcore, post-metal, Lyon) [Independent]
  
• Eigenstate Zero - The Malthusian (Tags: metal, deathmetal, djent, jazzmetal, melodeath, melodic death metal, nogenre, prog, progressive death metal, progressive metal, techdeath, Stockholm) [Independent]
  
• DAVID MURRAY QUARTET with Marta Sanchez, Luke Stewart and Russell Carter - Francesca (Tags: david murray, luke stewart, composition, improvisation, jazz, marta sanchez, Zurich) [Intakt]
  
• BORDERLANDS TRIO with Stephan Crump, Kris Davis, Eric McPherson - Rewilder (Tags: eric mcpherson, kris davis, stephan crump, composition, free jazz, improvisation, jazz, Zurich) [Intakt]
  
• Big Chef - Mud Wrestling Sydney Sweeny Perched High Upon a Mountain Peak, Beneath a Canopy of Shimmering Starlight (a millennial's american dream) x :) (Tags: beefcore, deathgrind, death metal, deathcore, metal, thall, djent, goregrind, grindcore, slam, slamming brutal death metal, Australia) [Independent]
  
• öz ürügülü - Della Morte dell’Artista (Tags: frank zappa, jazz, mats morgan band, morgan ågren, mr. bungle, panzerballett, secret chiefs 3, snarky puppy, experimental rock, film music, fusion, jacob collier, odd time signatures, oriental, poil, progressive, Zug) [Independent]
  
• Maddalena Ghezzi - Dolomite (Tags: electronic, jazz, avant-garde, contemporary, contemporary jazz, songs, London) [Independent]
  
• Gatecreeper - Dark Superstition (Tags: crust, death metal, doom, hardcore, metal, Arizona) [Nuclear Blast]
  
• Liraz - Enerjy - انرژی (Tags: farsi, global disco, world, electropop, persian, pop, retro, world-disco, Tel Aviv Yafo) [Batov]
  
• i Häxa - Part Two (Tags: alternative, dark ambient, dark folk, electronic music, indie, trip hop, London) [Pelagic]
  
• Karen Willems - JUJU (Tags: soundtrack, avant-garde, percussive, sound collage, Maldegem) [Werf]
  
• ZILF - Reanimated (Tags: alternative, djent, indie, mathcore, metal, metalcore, rock, technical metal, thrash metal, United Kingdom) [Independent]
  
• Layale Chaker & Sarafand - Radio Afloat (ICR031) (Tags: arabic jazz, world, arabic jazz, arabic vocals, chamber music, improvised chamber jazz, improvised piano, jazz, jazz and improvised music, violin, world music, Brooklyn) [In a Circle]
  
• Ambient Jazz Ensemble - Spirit Dance (Tags: jazz, ambient, ambient jazz, ambient jazz ensemble, chillout, cinematic, cinematic jazz, jazz, lounge, lounge music, rnb, London) [Here & Now]
  
• Tzompantli - Beating the Drums of Ancestral Force (Tags: metal, black metal, death metal, doom metal, heavy metal, Pittsburgh) [20 Buck Spin]
  
• James Ilgenfritz - Stay Logged In On This Trusted Device (Tags: experimental, New York) [Infrequent Seams]
  
• Joe Rocca - Hybride (Tags: hip-hop, hip-hop/rap, r&b, rap, soul, Montreal) [Bonsound]
  
• Thought Trials - This Has Always Been With You (Tags: rock, ambient, electronica, instrumental post-rock, post-rock, Buffalo) [Post.]
  
• Christopher Cerrone - Beaufort Scales (Tags: classical, classical contemporary music, classical, contemporary classical, electronic, experimental, new music, vocal, vocal ensemble, Brooklyn) [Cold Blue Music]
  
• wthAura - gumballs (Tags: alternative, experimental, rock, intstrumental, math rock, prog rock, Philadelphia) [Independent]
  
• Gabriel Dharmoo - Vestiges d'une fable (Tags: classical, experimental, avant-garde, classical, contemporary, contemporary classical, vocal, Toronto) [Centrediscs]
  
• Le Double - Le Double (Tags: alternative, electronic, contemporary classical, contemporary jazz, new music, poetry and music, Canada) [Corne de brume]
  
• Hvile I Kaos - Lower Order Manifestations (Tags: black metal, experimental, metal, chambermusic, neoclassical, occult, Los Angeles) [Independent]
  
• Viacrucis - Melhorament (Tags: atmospheric black metal, black metal, blackened death metal, death metal, metal, rouyn-noranda, atmospheric, cathar, metal noir, occitan, occitanie, Gaspé) [Independent]
  
• Gabriel Genest - As It Is (Tags: jazz, canadian jazz, chamber jazz, contemporary jazz, modern jazz, Montreal) [Independent]
  
• Darko - Greyscale (Tags: a wilhelm scream, melodic hardcore, propagandi, punk, strung out, technical melodic punk) [Lockjaw]
  
• Federico Bonacossa - Elettroarmonico (Tags: contemporary classical, electric guitar, experimental, New York) [New Focus]
  
• Hemotoxin - When Time Becomes Loss (Tags: death metal, melodic, metal, thrash metal, progressive, technical, San Francisco) [Independent]
  
• JISEI - POSITIVE AFFIRMATIONS (Tags: deathcore, punk, beatdown, deathcore, falsegrind, hardcore, lgbtq+, trans, Vancouver) [Independent]
  
• Maudits - Précipice (Tags: metal, ambient, instrumental, post, Paris) [Independent]
  
• Avoid Humanity - Between Now and Never (Tags: metal, hardcore, Bucharest) [Independent]
  
• Kavyesh Kaviraj - Fables (Tags: creative jazz, jazz, avant garde jazz, contemporary jazz, jazz and improvised music, jazz piano, modern jazz, nu-jazz, Minneapolis) [Shifting Paradigm]
  
• Nebula Orionis - The Long Path to Nowhere (Tags: metal, ambient, atmospheric black metal, cinematic, cosmic, space metal, Russia) [Independent]
  
• TERAMAZE - Eli : A Wonderful Fall From Grace (Tags: metal, progressive metal, progressive rock, rock, Melbourne) [Independent]
  
• Gnarwhal - Altered States (Tags: hard rock, rock, fuzz, stoner, Yellowknife) [Independent]
  
• Lower Automation - Welcome to My Deathbed (Tags: alternative, experimental punk, goth, industrial, math punk, mathcore, noise rock, post punk, punk, Illinois) [Independent]
  
• MULA - Cúmulo abierto (Tags: punk, rock, spoken word, experimental rock, free jazz, improvised music, jazz, noise, noise ambient, prog, Bogotá) [Independent]
  
• Nyktophobia - To The Stars (Tags: black metal, death metal, metal, Datteln) [Apostasy]
  
• EVILYN - Mondestrunken (Tags: metal, brutal death metal, death metal, dissonant, dissonant death metal, experimental death metal, progressive, progressive death, progressive death metal, tech death, technical death, technical death metal, United States) [Transcending Obscurity]
  
• OGIVES BIG BAND - Boisterous Love (Tags: experimental, hard rock, metal, metalcore, noise rock, progressive, progressive hardcore, psychedelic, soundtrack, hardcore, Bristol) [Stolen Body]
  
• Arx Atrata - A Reckoning (Tags: atmospheric black metal, metal, black metal, blackened doom metal, epic black metal, post black metal, Nottingham) [Independent]
  
• Progfox - Visitation III (Tags: Metal) [schitzocore entertainment]
  
• Voidsmen - Ice Age Part 0: Blood Furnace (Tags: metal, salt lake city, doom, doom metal, sludge, space doom, space metal, space rock, Salt Lake City) [Independent]
  
• Filip Żółtowski Quartet released by Alpaka Records - BiBi (Tags: electronic, hip hop, jazz, fusion, hip hop instrumentals, jazz, nujazz, Poland) [Filip Żółtowski Quartet]
  
• Strelitzia - Winter (Tags: rock, emo, experimental rock, independent, indie rock, math rock, math-rock, midwest emo, post-hardcore, post-rock, Gilbert) [Independent]
  
• Ugly Robot - The Space Between Us (Tags: rock, classic rock, experimental rock, indie rock, indietronica, math rock, Albuquerque) [Independent]
  
• Anoxide - Morals & Dogma (Tags: death metal, metal, brutal death metal, goregrind, slam, slamming brutal death metal, United States) [Ghastly Music]
  
• Otomo Yoshihide and Chris Pitsiokos - Uncanny Mirror (Tags: experimental, avant-garde, free jazz, improvisation, jazz, noise, New York) [Chris Pitsiokos / ELEATIC]
  
• Alex Harding & Lucian Ban - Blutopia (Tags: jazz, avant-garde, modern classical, piano, post bop, New York) [Sunnyside]
  
• On Ka’a Davis - …Here’s to Another Day and Night for the Lwa of the Woke (Tags: Jazz) [Tzadik]
  
• SHOKRAN - Duat (Tags: metal, djent, math, oriental, progressive metal, solo guitar, Russia) [Independent]
  
• Black Dresses - LAUGHINGFISH (Tags: alternative, electronic, industrial, noise pop, sci-fi, Toronto) [Independent]
  
• Sushma Soma - THE MOUNTAIN HAS THE LAST SAY (Tags: carnatic, experimental, indian music, world, world music, tamil folk, Singapore) [Independent]
  
• Les Fantômes du jour - Ravages (Tags: progressive rock, rock, art rock, nantes, post-hardcore, post-metal, post-prog, post-rock, progressive metal, Nantes) [Ajna Management]
  
• Clear Clover - Spectate (Tags: industrial metal, metal, rock, ambient, electronic, industrial, instrumental, new age, progressive metal, vaporwave, Montreal) [Independent]
  
• A Wake In Providence - I Write To You, My Darling Decay (Tags: ) [Unique Leader]
  

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The YouTube Teen changed the rules. We are still earning $1,000 a day to stay in the insolvent, decaying galleria mall that has even the gigantic central skylight boarded up so we have no idea what time of day it is—part of the “social experiment,” according to the YouTube Teen.
Micah, who lost tenure track at SUNY Binghampton because of “a dalliance with a matriculated temptress from Hong Kong,” says the YouTube Teen is not using the term “social experiment” correctly.
Still, the YouTube Teen told us he’s going broke due to our astounding okay-ness with surviving on rank fountain water and rock-hard Mrs. Fields’ oatmeal cookies. Since we signed the four total pounds of legal waivers and were sealed inside the Walden Galleria, just two of the original six have dropped out: Lawrence, because he earned enough money to get his lupus properly treated, and Jessica, whose mind broke.
To date, the YouTube Teen told us—giggling, hair freshly permed, eyes substance-glazed, palm trees swaying lazily in the background on the giant monitor set up in the food court just for these check-ins—we have personally cost him $725,000. Which would be “valid as fuck,” except the Views have gone down and the various memory foam mattress and ejaculate-volume-enhancing supplement sponsors are grumbling. Viewers are becoming bored with the highlight reels edited together from the three hundred GoPro cameras bracketed throughout the mall above us inside small plexiglass boxes.
In the end, The YouTube Teen tells us, he is as beholden to the algorithm as we are to him. And so now, the snakes.
Non-venomous, mostly (the copperheads representing the BIG exception), and—the YouTube teen has assured us—all species native to the region. The YouTube Teen is committed to the Environment and will not upset the local ecosystem by losing track of an invasive snake. Should an eastern hognosed or striped racer escape the confines of the mall, it will be happy and healthy and find plenty of its preferred prey in the drainage ditches and fallow farmland surrounding the mall.
Micah has called bullshit on this, too. He is positive he saw a desert king snake, native to the Southwest, casually contorting its body up a slicker-wearing toddler mannequin inside GAPKids.
But the answer is yes: we have been bitten. A lot. Which is the point, I guess. Any rustling through the Mrs. Fields’ wrappers sends us running—usually into another angry snake’s hiding place, which, of course: more bites. Because of the highly-aggressive northern water snake, we don’t go near the fountain anymore except to risk a quick dip with our filthy TGI Friday’s pint glasses for a gagged-down gulp of gray-green water.
On a positive note, the views are up—not to their peak, when Jessica went into the eerily pristine Lids store on the second level and started setting Florida Marlins Official New Era fitted caps on fire before flinging them like frisbees into the Fredericks of Hollywood beneath the mezzanine on the level below, setting ablaze several plus-size Lara May Lace Babydoll Sleep Dresses that put off smoke so black and acrid that air quality and general visibility both went to zero for hours.
Susan, a single mother to two spectrum-diagnosed precious angels, was overtaken by the flames while holding her drinking cup—a giant plastic wine glass from Spenser’s Gifts reading I’M THE FUCKING BIRTHDAY BITCH—and it was melted more or less permanently to her hand. She has chosen to stay, though, despite the pain and embarrassment—“at least it will make sense one day a year!” Susan says, brandishing the blackened novelty cup and mangled, terrifying hand at us.
Jessica had to go, is the upshot. She also had to forfeit her earnings—attempted involuntary manslaughter of the other participants being one of the disqualifying circumstances outlined in the four total pounds of legal waivers. But it was far and away the best week views-wise, and we each got a large bunch of rubber-banded beet greens as a reward which we immediately devoured raw, sitting hunched on the dead escalator, our deepening anemia making us ravenous for the iron.
This is all to say, the snakebite highlight reels have “revitalized the channel” (Re: the YouTube Teen).
We all hate the snakes but Sylvie talks the most about how much she hates the snakes. She calls me “Kyle” but that’s not my name—I don’t tell her because I don’t want to embarrass her and I am in love with her.
Sylvie is not here for the money—Sylvie has a lot of money because she shares frequent online photos of her large and unique ass, which has had several popular songs written about it—but to pay penance and rehabilitate her image after she used some slurs when she assumed she was free to do so.
It’s unfair, Sylvie says. She would not have said those slurs if she knew there were any type of video or sound recording devices around. Plus, South Asian people should be able to take a joke. No sense of humor—that was another thing that was wrong with them.
I don’t tell her my granddad was from Lahore. Me and my sister called him Nana. He called me Chotu and would cut up mango slices for me until my hands were slick with juice.
But he’s dead now and he didn’t speak English (another thing Sylvie hates) and Sylvie is committed to being a Good Person. Also, I think she believes I am South American or Mexican based on her habit of calling me “Papi” when she occasionally forgets my name is Kyle (it’s not). It’s fine, though, because her heart is in the right place and it’s the least I can do to keep her spirits up while she “really does some listening and reflecting.”
One of the things I do with that in mind is assure Sylvie that you can barely see the snakebites on her large ass, which she also fears is getting smaller due to lack of proper nutrition. A little secret is that I would love her if her ass was even just a quarter its current size. And one day I’ll tell her that and she’ll look into my eyes and smile, and then I’ll tell her my name is Kader, not Kyle, and I don’t think she’ll even get that angry, like when I disagreed with her about the Moon Landing (I still basically think it was real).
Before Sylvie, I didn’t have a purpose of any kind. I came to be sealed inside the Walden Galleria in the same way everything happens to me: first something isn’t happening, and then it is, and I can’t really untangle the millions of decisions and non-decisions in my life that led me to any particular time or place. But I usually don’t feel any kind of way about why one thing happens and another doesn’t, unless something hurts me or makes me uncomfortable. Like snake bites, for example, which sometimes make me wish I was back at the apartment with my mom and my sister. Not that we really saw each other or talked much, except when we ran into each other in the kitchen while grabbing toaster strudels or a can of peaches before scurrying back to our separate little blanket nests and preferred online videos.
So when Micah asked me what sort of “outdated social mores” brought me to the mall, I didn’t have a good answer. The only thing I know for sure is that before the mall I wasn’t anybody and you have to have a lot of people know who you are or your life is bad.
This made Micah quiet (rare) and then he asked me what I liked to do in my life before the mall. I told him I liked to watch videos of crayons being made. Over and over again, I would replay the part when the still-warm, rubbery sheets of colored wax are scraped out of their troughs and forced through the metal, crayon-shaped molds. I told Micah I like to watch orange crayons get made best even though green is my favorite color. I don’t know why.
Micah said entropy is the natural state of the universe and the making of crayons flies in the face of entropy by creating order out of chaos, and this makes me briefly forget about my own mortality.
Probably? Micah’s smart so I believe whatever he says. Even when he talks (all the time) about how it should be totally fine for people in positions of authority to have sexual relationships with younger women who take their Intro To Natural Sciences course, even if these women’s command of English is not one-hundred-percent, and how that sort of thing is very normal because women are attracted to power and have been for millennia and it’s these later-in-life sexual conquests that people with minds like Micah’s are owed when everyone finally realizes how great and smart they are, especially after they had dog shit put in their backpacks pretty much every single day in seventh grade.
Micah also says it’s winter now. The owls that made their way into the mall in order to eat snakes have started nesting (having snake blood dripped on you from the track lighting above is pretty common). Nesting is a winter-time occurrence, according to Micah, instinct forcing its way through the temperature-controlled bubble of the mall.
After one of the owls attempts to make a nest inside a large fuse box and is electrocuted, we know it’s winter. The Macy’s end of the mall stinks of burned owl for three days and the heat and electricity are “completely donezo,” according to a text we receive from the YouTube Teen on the Communal Phone. But the YouTube Teen is very excited about the new dynamics below-zero cold will add to the social experiment. He also told us we can breathe a sigh of relief due to the long battery life and night-vision capabilities of the GoPro cameras, assuring us that the Channel will not experience any disruptions despite the pitch dark and intense cold that have settled in.
Also, we will still be delivered a freshly-charged Communal Phone every few days when the YouTube Teen’s Street Team comes to collect and replace the GoPros before delivering the spent ones to the overnight editorial crew. So we will still get our one hour of Internet access per day, per person, ideally to be spent in part or in whole on updating our social media and “driving engagement.”
Sylvie uses her time to share photos of her ass and also to monitor the activity of her competitors in the large-and-unique-ass influencer space. I usually give Sylvie my hour of Internet time so she has extra, even though lately I’d really like to see a crayon video so I can forget about the cold and dark. Instead, I watch Micah snap wooden Banana Republic clothes hangers over his knee in order to burn them in Sur La Table soup pots to stay warm. He struggles with this due to the dozen or so XXL Nike Dri-FIT athletic shirts he’s wearing, layered one on top the next, the combined girth of the jerseys preventing him from being able to touch one baseball-gloved hand to the other and get a good grip on the hangers for snapping.
It’s funny to watch, and I understand why the edits of Micah falling down while attempting simple tasks are gaining in popularity, but I don’t laugh. Micah didn’t laugh when I broke my nose after I tripped over the poncho I made from a Martha Stewart California King Duvet I found in Bed, Bath & Beyond.
The toilets have frozen solid and the Yankee Candle has become the new bathroom, the theory being that the Sweet Vanilla Horchata and Fresh Cut Rose candles, among thousands of others, would cover the smell. Nope. Instead, these aromas have combined with the odor of our waste to create a stench so overpowering and unique that none of us has the words to describe it. Susan came closest when she said it smelled like someone dumped a million of gallons of perfume into a sewage treatment plant
One day during Sylvie’s (my) Internet time, she lets out a howl. When I rush over to see if one of the snakes managed to somehow survive the owls or freezing temperatures and sink their fangs into Sylvie’s ass, she brandishes the Communal Phone at me and scrolls through photo after photo of gigantic-assed women enjoying a special, head-sized fried chicken sandwich.
Sylvie begins to weep with despair. The sandwich—a Limited Edition Drop from Arby’s that comes in a hand-hewn mahogany box emblazoned with the familiar cowboy hat logo—is so desirable that at least twenty people to date have been murdered during disputes in the massive lines snaking for miles outside the restaurants. Obtaining one is currently the greatest indicator of power, with various dictators from around the globe sharing photos of themselves enjoying the coveted sandwich.
Sylvie says she needs one of those sandwiches more than anything she has ever needed, and I tell her right then and there that I’m going to get one for her. She hugs me and kisses me on the cheek, and it is the best thing that has happened to me in my life.
Susan, waiting for her turn on the Communal Phone so she can video chat with her non-verbal precious angels, points her melted Birthday Bitch cup hand at me and reminds me that if I get caught sneaking out and back in, I forfeit my earnings like Jessica did. Attempted manslaughter and cheating are given equal weight in the four total pounds of legal waivers.
The Street Team is coming soon for a camera swap, so the next day I use my Internet time to look up directions to Arby’s—six miles if I cut through frozen fields and drainage culverts.
During the swap, a piece of plywood is usually left unscrewed at the doors near the carousel and the unblinking plastic horses watch me slip out as the Street Team removes the spent GoPros, creating a momentary video blackout.
It’s nighttime and the snow comes down not in gentle feathers but in tiny knives, given a painful velocity by the wind. The snow is in uneven drifts stretching out beyond the short distance I can see. I discard my Martha Stewart duvet-poncho after I trip for about the tenth time while crossing a corn-stubbled field.
After hours of leaning into the wind and snow, my steps slow to a frozen crawl. But finally, between a Valvoline and a Dollar Tree, the familiar glowing red cowboy hat shines through the slanted snowfall.
I fall through the doors and there is no one inside but a single, furious, pockmarked 20-something behind the counter. He glares hate at me and recoils from the smell of my unwashed body as I crawl up to the counter and order the special chicken sandwich.
Smiling for the first time, thin lips pulling up shittily around ratty teeth, he tells me they sold out days ago, and that I smell like shit. Which is true, but rude.
As I uncoil the Forever 21 Active Seamless Flare Leggings from around my face, though, Rat Teeth recognizes me—he is a fan of the YouTube Teen’s channel. He excitedly tells me he stole a sandwich that he has already promised to sell to the current Burmese dictator, but instead he’ll let me have it for free.
I think maybe I cry a little from gratitude as he goes out to his car to retrieve the mahogany box. But as he shakes off the snow back in the restaurant and I take the sandwich from him, Rat Teeth suddenly puts his arm around me and takes a photo of the both of us with his phone.
I ask him what he plans on doing with the photo. He says he will post it on every platform known to man so he can get “two truckloads of pussy” which he says will back up to his house now that he has proof he met me. I beg him not to—I tell him I’ll lose my earnings and be banished from the Walden Galleria and lose Sylvie if he posts the photo.
Rat teeth tells me tough shit, and I lunge for his phone. We struggle until I bash him in the head with the mahogany box and he has a really bad seizure, a halo of blood spreading across the bleach-smelling tile floor.
I grab the bloody sandwich box and run out into a corn field and back toward the mall. But I’m not sure which way it is, and the storm is way worse. I go slower and slower and I finally sit down and can’t go any more.
After a bit, I see Nana. He’s super pissed and he doesn’t say anything for a long time. Then:
“I think you would have benefited from some structure in your life,” Nana finally says without moving his mouth—he somehow puts the hot words right into my brain.
Yeah, probably. But I tell him that’s not really important right now because I’m gonna die.
“Eat the sandwich, Chotu.” Nana urges.
I tell him the sandwich is for Sylvie. When they find me, they will find the sandwich pristine and untouched and perfect. Then Sylvie will know what I did and she will love me. I tell Nana I need her to love me or everything will be pointless and so fucking stupid.
Nana shakes his head and clucks his tongue like he used to when he read his squiggly Urdu newspapers. And then I don’t see him anymore.

Heartfelt thanks to Vlada for her wonderful characters and for her willingness to share insanely interesting answers with her readers.
___
Dario
Q: Dario, what was your favorite fairy tale as a child and why? And perhaps you still do?
A: Fairy tales have too much chaos for my taste. But I've always loved instructive tales. In seminary, I even wrote an essay on “King Thrushbeard” by the Brothers Grimm.
Q: What admonition do you most often give to those who come to you for confession?
A: The secret of confession doesn't allow me to talk about it, and besides, everything is very individualized. *Grins faintly* But if you are eager to know the answer, come to the temple, and I will be glad to listen to you.
Q: Which of the seven deadly sins do you consider the most serious and why?
A: Sin is a sin that is equally afflicting to the immortal soul. This is what any priest will answer you. As for my personal opinion, pride is the queen of sins. For those who consider themselves superior to others, although by the will of the Primordial One we are all equal, are going against His plan.
Q: How do you manage to look so luxurious at 45 years old?
A: *Laughs quietly* Thank you for the compliment.
Q: Did you become a priest because of sincere faith or because of ambition and a thirst for power?
A: I became a priest because I had no other choice. Everything turned out well, because I have never regretted my calling. *Looks away* And I hope I don’t regret it.
___
Richard
Q: Tell us about your hobby. What do you like to do in your spare time?
A: I don't have much free time. But, if such moments arise, I prefer to spend them in my office with a book and wine.
Q: Do you have any other favorite authors besides Thomas Hardy? Perhaps there are certain preferences specifically in English literature?
A: I value depth in literature. But not darkness. For example, I don’t always like Dickens, and not all of Hardy’s works. I love “Far from the Madding Crowd,” the tabula rasa theme of Kipling and the Russian authors. I recently read “The Name of the Rose” by Eco, and also found this work interesting.
Q: Since what age have you lived in Venice?
A: For a long time. *Purses his lips, clearly not wanting to answer further*
Q: What qualities are the most important for an inquisitor of the Order of the Primordial?
A: Logic, attentiveness, physical strength. Loyalty to Him, of course.
Q: Has there ever been love in your life?
A: I don't think so.
___
Raven
Q: What knowledge about life would you like to pass on to young leaders from your past years?
A: From the heights of my years, I realized that no one needs other people’s knowledge, and everything is much better understood from one’s own experience, no matter how bitter it may be.
Q: In such a long life you have seen different things. What is it like to watch from the sidelines the fall of empires and the disappearance of civilizations?
A: How many people today know about my age. *Bows his head, almost sarcastically* I’ll satisfy your curiosity. When you talk about the fall of an empire, you probably imagine epic battles or legendary deeds. I saw the other side. Take, for example, the Hundred Years' War. How many ballads have been written about the great Battle of Agincourt! About the brave English archers who defeated the outnumbered French. But do you know what I remember about this battle? I remember a barn where a chicken was killed by a poorly aimed arrow.
Q: You must be amazing at speaking many (if not all, including dead languages) of the world. Don't they get mixed up in your head? Which language was harder to learn and which one was easier?
A: Believe me, I've had time to “put my knowledge on the shelves”. Germanic languages are easy for me. Eastern languages are the worst.
Q: The mask undoubtedly restrains you in expressing emotions, although readers have noticed that you express emotions through gestures. Did it take a long time to learn and what were the first steps?
A: *Nods so that you immediately realize he's smiling* It's a matter of practice. I like to make a certain impression, and through trial and error I learned to do it without a face.
Q: From your profile we know that you are inspired by shipbuilding. How do you feel when you see your ship?
A: Freedom. Ships remind me of freedom. And how one storm can end everything.
___
Nikolai
Q: Nikolai, what was your first impression of Lady Crow?
A: *Smiles seductively* I found Madam Crowe a very attractive and interesting person, who has the same devilishness that is not alien to me.
Q: A girl with what character traits would you consider a perfect match for you?
A: In love, as in the sea, nothing is perfect. The more difficulties and discrepancies - the more feelings and sweetness of victories.
Q: Do you spend a long time at sea as a privateer?
A: As much as possible.
Q: After what incident did you gain a reputation as a ladies' man?
A: *Curls eyebrow* Accident? More like cases. Ladies of the world have always been partial to captains.
Q: Please tell us about your most exciting trip to sea.
A: The most memorable was the expedition in the Sea of Okhotsk. Our detachment (and the ships were divided into detachments) was to reach the coast of Japan. I will spare you the less important details, the most interesting thing began when we approached the La Perouse Strait. It was night, the sea was shrouded in fog.
In the silence, a watchman shouted, “Man overboard!” And indeed, there was a woman in the water. Only she was not swimming, but walking on the waves. She had long black hair and very pale skin.
I wanted to drop anchor and offer help, but I was stopped by a young man named Nobuyuki, who was the ship's cook at the time. He was from Dejima Island. Nobuyuki said: “Raise the sails, captain! I'd rather hit the rocks in the night than face the Iso-onna!”
When I looked out to sea again, the woman was gone. We never hoisted the sails - it was too risky to sail at speed in the fog. “Cover yourself for the night with the garments you're going to wear tomorrow! And order the crew to do the same! - Nobuyuki pleaded with me. - Iso-onna will drink the blood of those who are not bound for a future day...”
The young man was too frightened to say more. Not fully understanding the reasons, I still followed his advice.
In the morning, the whole crew was fine except for one sailor who flatly refused to use a clean shirt as a blanket. His bloodless body was found in the hold.
___
Adrian
Q: Where did you get such love for poetry?
A: From the storm and warmth that are born in the heart when words are woven into art.
Q: What is your favorite Shakespeare sonnet?
A: You will be sad when the poet dies, Until the ringing of the nearest church, Will not announce that this low light, I traded for the lower world of worms.
It’s a bit gloomy, I understand, but the words of a genius can turn even the world of worms into a dream. *Smiles radiantly* Don’t frown, it’s not serious. I love a lot of sonnets, this is just the first one that came to mind.
Q: You sow the seeds of culture among the common people. Have you ever received feedback from them that let you know that your efforts were not in vain?
A: I too am a common man. So who better than me to know that culture does not depend on status? It's only the desire and opportunity that matters.
Q: What is your favorite constellation?
A: One remarkable Russian poet wrote: Why are you unhappy? Will people tell me? — That makes me unhappy. Good people are like the stars and the sky - Stars and sky! - and I’m a man!.. All stars are beautiful; it is simply impossible to choose just one cluster of light.
Q: What was your first poem about?
A: About my mother's apron, on which I spilled my father's tincture.
___
Giovanni
Q: How did your fascination with alchemy begin? Why this and not some other direction?
A: Hmm... That's an interesting question, thank you. Alchemy was close to my mamma, I guess that love was passed down from her.
Q: Are you frightened by the specific images lurking in the darkness, or is it the unknown and not knowing what might be lurking there?
A: There is nothing in the darkness but my own thoughts. And I don't like to be alone with them.
Q: Were you happy when your father the Doge officially recognized you as his son and took you to a luxurious palace?
A: *Smiles: politely and a little stiffly* I'd rather leave that question unanswered.
Q: How do you know so much about the underground crypts at the Academy of Magic?
A: How much? No more than all those in the know who have read a guide to the Academy or a couple of historical books about magic.
Q: Could you forgive betrayal?
A: Like any Italian, I would forgive cheating by serving a glass of poison to the one who ruined happiness. *Laughs* I'm kidding! Actually, I haven't been cheated on yet, but if the day comes, I hope I'll behave with dignity. I'll be able to listen, try to understand, and make an informed decision.
___
Alexander Crow
Q: If you had the ability to turn back time, would you change anything in your life?
A: That's a personal thing.
Q: Do you love your daughter?
A: Yes.
Q: What do you think is the most important thing about magic?
A: Knowledge.
Q: What is more important: the result or the path to it?
A: The result.
___
Lucretia
Q: What qualities in people attract you, and what qualities repel you?
A: I am deeply indifferent to other people's manifestations of character. What is repulsive today may be useful tomorrow.
Q: Do you enjoy conducting the Naming Ceremony?
A: Quite a bit.
Q: This next question is probably not the right one, but it is important for the for admirers of the Supreme Witcher Raven to know whether he often gossips with you?
A: Gossip? I didn't know that's what they call friendship these days.
___
Batsheba
Q: Can you tell us about the most interesting ritual in which you have ever participated?
A: In the days of my youth, my sisters and I used to celebrate Man Gevri by dancing naked in the stone circle of Kallanish... *coughs* Ah, those were the days!
Q: Will you reveal your age to us?
A: How quick! A woman's age is her secret.
Q: How do you know the ancient rites of the leaders?
A: Thou! What have the knowers got to do with it? The rituals I know belong to nature.
Q: I would like to know something very funny from the childhood of our Crows (something that is usually embarrassing to talk about, and if they do, it is usually accompanied by a loud “MAM!”)
A: *Giggles* There is such a thing, how could there not be! But I won't tell you about it, I don't want any of the grooms-to-be to find out that Esther can't even boil the simplest broth.
___
Familiar
Q: Will you accept Esther’s man if her choice turns out to be very controversial?
A: *You ask a question to the empty space where you were told the familiar should be, but there is no answer*
Q: What do you do while your witch sleeps? Do you see her dreams?
A: *A sound resembling snoring comes from the void*.
___
Esther
Q: Would you mind sharing your favorite authors and works with us?
A: As the Triad sees it, there are too many! I'm sure a lot of what you've read I've enjoyed as well.
Q: Do you have a favorite perfume? And if not, what perfume would you like?
A: There is no favorite... I have yet to find my fragrance. Perhaps you can recommend one?
Q: Can I know the topic of your dissertation and at what stage of writing is it now?
A: The topic of my dissertation is “Natural curses in mass grave sites and how to deal with them”. I've got the last couple chapters left to write. It's about the Yorkshire moors. But I'm not sure I'll be able to get back to that work anytime soon... The memories of what I learned there are too fresh.
Q: You often turn to folklore to find answers. This seems like a rather unconventional approach (especially for a witch scientist). What was the reason for such an unusual resource for finding answers?
A: Folklore is just like history, only it takes more effort to find the truth. The study of folklore is no less scientific than archaeology.
Q: How would you describe your ideal date?
A: Oh... *Blushes* Perhaps someday I will be able to answer this question. After all, something like that needs to be experienced.

Hi Guys, first time posting, not 100% english speaking and am running on 4h of shut-eye in the past 3 days so sorry if i'm not super coherent .. I (30F) need to vent so i don't plunge back into a toxic crappy relationship.. Caution could be triggering
To set context, i come from a toxic family: narcissistic dad, zombie mom, abusive older brother and was otherwise invisible or made fun of at school or home. The abse from my brother started when i was 6 and was s*ual until i was 10 (he is 6years older than i am) . Then physical and verbal until he left when i was 16.. i had completely dissociated and was disconnected so i was always that awkward kid with no friends i felt like everyone would know the secret and would judge me if i spoke to anyone so always only had 1 -2 friends tops.. i went through quite a bit of hard times but i've been getting help for the past 10 years and doing much better. Just never have been lucky, not even with men. I always go for men who end up shoving me, gaslighting me, being leeches, had no backbone .. one of the worst is the relationship that ended 2 days ago.. it was with Matt 32M in 3 years together these are some of the things..: he openly admitted to cheating on his gf frequently ; hid he had a 2year old kid; hid the fact his ex was 6 months pregnant (i found out 1month before she gave birth) ; took his paternity leave to spend it playing video games at my place ; was sending/receiving nudes but it was ok cuz they had never really met (i'm being ironic it was his excuse) ; he never helped out with rent or bills but , would on saturdays go buy chips, candy and pasta boxes. If i wanted something healthy i had to get it ; he never did any cleaning whatsoever and would always ask me what i wanted him to do when i was nearly done. Before you ask, yes i would ask for help and he'd say when he's done. Oddly he was always done when i was too... I had many conversations with him but he would basically say yes yes yes ok ok to everything whilst playing his videogame and nothing would change. He claimed he could play and listen, that's why he refused to put down his game.. I'm quite stubborn and don't back down easily but i soin learned it was useless.. he would either shutdown immediately and refuse to talk to me (which drove me bananas) or would loose his shit and destroy my apartment. My perfumes, walls, windows he would break closets, shelves, mirrors, glasses anything of mine he would break... he never replaced fixed or repaied for anything and didn't understand why he would have to cuz it's my stuff .. he would eventually tell me ok but then he'd say he had no money. He never hit me but would shove me hard or throw me against the wall or the bed and would purposely hurt me to prove he could have done worse if i complained.. 1 week ago he squeezed and twisted my hand just enough not to break it because i had complained he hurt my hand during an argument and he wanted to prove to me i would not have been hurt if i didn't try to pull away and was just "holding" me..
2 ce the cops had to come.. once in july where it was one of the worst .. he had kicked in my front door so much the cops had to break it down because it was stuck and the wood was bending and breaking (old apt). Luckily i saved some scraps and some friends helped me build a door back. the second time was saturday, he lost his shit again and was breaking things, was starting to shove my door in again but i opened it so he stopped.. instead he took a screwdriver and smashed holes in the door after threatening of throwing the screwdriver at me if i didn't close the door. all whilst insulting me and telling me how i'm the worst wh**e ever (i never cheated, lied or broke his trust) he ended up leaving cuz i was so terrified i couldn't stop screaming. (he had thrown me acoss the room, i bumped into the wall and was coming at me again) He said "look what you make me look like, you destroyed my life " insulted me some more and left.. i'm greatful the neighbors saw everything and called the cops
he s been messaging me how he s sorry and will never give up on me and he loves me..
I have such trauma and abandonment issues that i m finding it hard to ignore him and not ask him to come back.. but i won't i'm seeing my psychologist this afternoon and will try to focus on other things..
sorry for this long i really needed to vent and spill what i've been going through .. i'm not perfect : i'm jealous, i don't go out much, not many friends, i like to believe that being in a couple is a partnership where you find compromise and have fun and need to have a positive outlook on life . Why make it hard if it can be easy if you just put in a tad bit of work and good attitude... I'll treat you great but if you don't treat me well it makes me naggy and very demanding and i'll come down on you like a ton of bricks... but all i want is someone i can care for and who cares for me.. i never have been taken care of .. would be a nice change
Dear reddit friend, thanks for bearing with me and letting me vent i hope you have a great day

Soulmage

I was lucky enough to be able to feel myself dying. Cancer’s touch had been lighter on me than Sansen, and if I hadn’t known exactly where to look, I likely would’ve missed some of the subtler symptoms. But a soulmage’s memory was not that of a regular human’s: if I trawled through the arid deserts of my soul for long enough, I could retrieve and relive weeks of my slow decline all at once.
The eight memories I held suspended in my soulspace formed a clear trend. Despite how normal it felt nowadays to sleep sixteen hours a day and eat nothing more than a few bites, when I could flick back through days of my life like they were attractions at a street carnival, the pattern became clear.
I would be dead within the month if this kept up.
It was impeccably clear to me how I felt about that: I had not fought my way through a state-sponsored abuser, a blizzard-torn war, and my own arrogance and fear just to collapse from my wounds at the end of the race. The endless, determined, glittering sands of my soul were testament to that. But as much as I wanted to trust the only person in Knwharfhelm who practiced the kind of medicine I’d need to save my life, Zhytln was still a mind-manipulator with incomprehensible goals that I trusted no further than I could throw her. Which wasn’t very far, considering that she somehow effortlessly negated any attempts to fling magic her way.
So I dug deeper. Much as I detested Zhytln, I had studied her strange magics and—with Meloai’s help—developed them into something safe and ethical for my own use. I would never invade the mind of another, but working magic on my own mind was something I could do. I held a memory of Cienne, shimmering in the endless sands, and brought it to life. The living memory burned, bits of its essence rotating out of existence in angles my mind couldn’t track, as I transmitted my command into its very being: search my memories for anything I can recall about cures for cancer.
The memory of Cienne nodded and raced across the deserts of my soul, occasionally flickering and warping as it angled itself through the infinite dimensions of soulspace. Memories were four-dimensional, and I could only perceive three; with the help of another two living memories I summoned, I could grab different perspectives of my soul, hunting down memories faster than I could on my own.
Only marginally faster, unfortunately; when I tried to maintain a fourth living memory, the other three promptly destabilized, giving me a splitting headache. But inevitably, I caught the shape of a winding thread of memory, snaking throughout the planes of my soul, and hauled it to the surface. Where had I remembered glimpsing a cure for cancer? I touched the memory—
snow that swallowed footsteps and screams from your dorm room alike, hearth dragons gamboling beneath an ice-blue moon—
Home. The last remaining lead was home.
I had grown up in the Silent Peaks; despite or perhaps because of their remote, resource-barren location, they managed to be one of the most magically adept nations in the world. And they’d been the ones to discover or invent the strange light magic that sickened all whose gaze it fell upon—they wouldn’t make a weapon that devastating without understanding how to slow its effects in their own. If anyone else knew how to heal me of the sickness in my bones, it would be the arrogant, sadistic witches who’d brewed it to life in the first place.
My eyes snapped open, the living memories dismissed, and I got to my feet unsteadily. Feathers drifted in my soul, jets of wind helping prop me up.
If I wanted answers on how to live, I’d have to beat them out of the manipulative hellhole I’d fled from so many months ago.
I clenched my fists, and lines of frost danced around the room in tune with my mood.
Finally, a problem a riftmaw could solve.
The Whispered Secret held memories in every cup and nail and floorboard. Salt-crusted breakups, glittering like stars; thick, layered funerals that let out puffs of dust when touch; lurking, eight-eyed rivalries that skittered in the dark—if a human soul could host it, the Whispered Secret had it.
I walked in with a bottled soul shard that resembled nothing at all in this shop of souls and secrets, and the bartender fell silent as I slid it across the counter.
The bottle’s soul held something that had been oil, once, although it had long since congealed, strange algal blooms that needed no water to live infesting the eldritch emotion. Zhytln picked it up, turned the label, and stilled.
“Dorcelessness,” Zhytln read out, expression flat. I saw the gears in her head turning as she processed the information. “Where did you find this?”
“The shattered soul of a juvenile monster,” I said.
Zhytln set the bottle down. “Cienne never mentioned you had samples of the Silent Peaks’ creations,” she said.
“He doesn’t know.”
“Why tell me?”
“I’m leaving, soon, to the place where this came from.” I tapped the bottle. “You’re a scientific type. Analytical. Vivisectionist. And I don’t want that anywhere near Cienne or me. But if I can aim you in the direction of a bigger monster, I will.”
Zhytln tilted her head, and I got the feeling someone else would have asked the harder questions. Why I hadn’t told Cienne I’d snatched a piece of Iola’s soul when Cienne had killed him. Why I’d waited until now to tell Cienne I was going back to the place that horror had been birthed. Why I’d come to Zhytln first, instead of someone I cared about and trusted.
The answers were all the same: because Zhytln would never think to ask, and Cienne would never think of anything else.
Zhytln pocketed the bottle warily. “I meant what I said, when we first met. I seek no conflict, with your party or anyone else’s. I will not step into this war of yours.”
The corners of my lips twitched. “No. But it’ll step into your business, eventually. When that day comes, they’ll find someone armed and ready with knowledge of how to fight them.”
“I will keep that in mind,” Zhytln said. “Now, if there’s anything else I can do for you…?”
I pushed the stool back from the bar, about to shake my head, then paused. Chuckled, dark and bitter. “Actually, there is.”
Zhytln raised an eyebrow, and I slapped two coins down on the counter. “Give me a drink, bartender. I have a feeling I’ll need it.”
Soulmage
I was lucky enough to be able to feel myself dying. Cancer’s touch had been lighter on me than Sansen, and if I hadn’t known exactly where to look, I likely would’ve missed some of the subtler symptoms. But a soulmage’s memory was not that of a regular human’s: if I trawled through the arid deserts of my soul for long enough, I could retrieve and relive weeks of my slow decline all at once.
The eight memories I held suspended in my soulspace formed a clear trend. Despite how normal it felt nowadays to sleep sixteen hours a day and eat nothing more than a few bites, when I could flick back through days of my life like they were attractions at a street carnival, the pattern became clear.
I would be dead within the month if this kept up.
It was impeccably clear to me how I felt about that: I had not fought my way through a state-sponsored abuser, a blizzard-torn war, and my own arrogance and fear just to collapse from my wounds at the end of the race. The endless, determined, glittering sands of my soul were testament to that. But as much as I wanted to trust the only person in Knwharfhelm who practiced the kind of medicine I’d need to save my life, Zhytln was still a mind-manipulator with incomprehensible goals that I trusted no further than I could throw her. Which wasn’t very far, considering that she somehow effortlessly negated any attempts to fling magic her way.
So I dug deeper. Much as I detested Zhytln, I had studied her strange magics and—with Meloai’s help—developed them into something safe and ethical for my own use. I would never invade the mind of another, but working magic on my own mind was something I could do. I held a memory of Cienne, shimmering in the endless sands, and brought it to life. The living memory burned, bits of its essence rotating out of existence in angles my mind couldn’t track, as I transmitted my command into its very being: search my memories for anything I can recall about cures for cancer.
The memory of Cienne nodded and raced across the deserts of my soul, occasionally flickering and warping as it angled itself through the infinite dimensions of soulspace. Memories were four-dimensional, and I could only perceive three; with the help of another two living memories I summoned, I could grab different perspectives of my soul, hunting down memories faster than I could on my own.
Only marginally faster, unfortunately; when I tried to maintain a fourth living memory, the other three promptly destabilized, giving me a splitting headache. But inevitably, I caught the shape of a winding thread of memory, snaking throughout the planes of my soul, and hauled it to the surface. Where had I remembered glimpsing a cure for cancer? I touched the memory—
snow that swallowed footsteps and screams from your dorm room alike, hearth dragons gamboling beneath an ice-blue moon—
Home. The last remaining lead was home.
I had grown up in the Silent Peaks; despite or perhaps because of their remote, resource-barren location, they managed to be one of the most magically adept nations in the world. And they’d been the ones to discover or invent the strange light magic that sickened all whose gaze it fell upon—they wouldn’t make a weapon that devastating without understanding how to slow its effects in their own. If anyone else knew how to heal me of the sickness in my bones, it would be the arrogant, sadistic witches who’d brewed it to life in the first place.
My eyes snapped open, the living memories dismissed, and I got to my feet unsteadily. Feathers drifted in my soul, jets of wind helping prop me up.
If I wanted answers on how to live, I’d have to beat them out of the manipulative hellhole I’d fled from so many months ago.
I clenched my fists, and lines of frost danced around the room in tune with my mood.
Finally, a problem a riftmaw could solve.
The Whispered Secret held memories in every cup and nail and floorboard. Salt-crusted breakups, glittering like stars; thick, layered funerals that let out puffs of dust when touch; lurking, eight-eyed rivalries that skittered in the dark—if a human soul could host it, the Whispered Secret had it.
I walked in with a bottled soul shard that resembled nothing at all in this shop of souls and secrets, and the bartender fell silent as I slid it across the counter.
The bottle’s soul held something that had been oil, once, although it had long since congealed, strange algal blooms that needed no water to live infesting the eldritch emotion. Zhytln picked it up, turned the label, and stilled.
“Dorcelessness,” Zhytln read out, expression flat. I saw the gears in her head turning as she processed the information. “Where did you find this?”
“The shattered soul of a juvenile monster,” I said.
Zhytln set the bottle down. “Cienne never mentioned you had samples of the Silent Peaks’ creations,” she said.
“He doesn’t know.”
“Why tell me?”
“I’m leaving, soon, to the place where this came from.” I tapped the bottle. “You’re a scientific type. Analytical. Vivisectionist. And I don’t want that anywhere near Cienne or me. But if I can aim you in the direction of a bigger monster, I will.”
Zhytln tilted her head, and I got the feeling someone else would have asked the harder questions. Why I hadn’t told Cienne I’d snatched a piece of Iola’s soul when Cienne had killed him. Why I’d waited until now to tell Cienne I was going back to the place that horror had been birthed. Why I’d come to Zhytln first, instead of someone I cared about and trusted.
The answers were all the same: because Zhytln would never think to ask, and Cienne would never think of anything else.
Zhytln pocketed the bottle warily. “I meant what I said, when we first met. I seek no conflict, with your party or anyone else’s. I will not step into this war of yours.”
The corners of my lips twitched. “No. But it’ll step into your business, eventually. When that day comes, they’ll find someone armed and ready with knowledge of how to fight them.”
“I will keep that in mind,” Zhytln said. “Now, if there’s anything else I can do for you…?”
I pushed the stool back from the bar, about to shake my head, then paused. Chuckled, dark and bitter. “Actually, there is.”
Zhytln raised an eyebrow, and I slapped two coins down on the counter. “Give me a drink, bartender. I have a feeling I’ll need it.”
A.N.
Thanks to u/snakingfire for the original prompt! Soulmage is a web serial inspired by prompts; you can check out the rest of the story at bubblewriters.

Today I saw a caterpillar, and when I touched it suddenly a strange thing protruded from the little guy. It was clearly intended to look like a snake's tongue, but the weirdest thing is that afterwards my finger smelled good, like really good, like I would pay for this perfume
After some research I found this organ is called "osmeterium" and it's very common among different species of butterflies, and the secretions have been well studied, you can find of the chemical compounds they contain in several papers
But I couldn't find any mention of the smell! It's so good you'd think they would mention it? But no!
The thing that baffles me about the smell is, why is it so good? It smells like oranges, or lemon, or something like that. How is that helpful for a defense mechanism?
Now, the caterpillar was close to an orange tree. Could it be that eating those leaves changed the smell of the osmeterial secretions?
Please someone help me! I need to know!

Previous chapter
A soft chuckle filled the cave, carrying with it so much weight that not a single echo chased after it. It was as if, instead of making a sound, her laugh transmitted directly into his head and filled his body.
“It is alright child,” She petted his head. “Unlike the immortals from the stories you may have heard, I do not care for customs and formalities such as these. Raise your head.”
The way that she spoke reminded Mareus of Elder Guo in the almost ancient way that he would form his sentences while speaking in commands. Though it didn’t feel as if she was being overbearing.
Mareus struggled to his knees while looking everywhere except for her face. His eyes darted around her outline, looking into the darkness behind her, at the way her hair moved in the still air. Doing everything they could to avoid recognizing the disdain present in her gaze. Instead, when he finally met her eyes, he only saw softness accompanied by lines only formed with a gentle smile. Similar to the face a mother would make when consoling a crying child.
“Tell me your name, child.”
“M-my name… my name is Maris. I-I don't have a family name, but I was raised by a grandmother with the name Hua.” Starting to feel more comfortable, he asked. “May I know the name of the person who saved me?”
“Hmm, Mare-us.” She mulled over his name for a moment, as if she were determining what characters it used and their meaning. “Yes, it's a good name. The person who picked it chose wisely.”
He wasn't quite sure what to say. He never actually asked where his name came from. So he wasn't sure if it was his parents who chose, or his grandmother. He did ask her what it meant when he was younger, she could never give him a full answer though. Instead, she told him how the first character meant ‘endless’. “Like the boundless and infinite sea,” she would explain.
Having never seen the sea Mareus wasn't sure exactly how true that was, but he did ask a villager who had traveled outside the valley once, and they compared it to the sky. Because of that, he would often stare at the blue sky during the day, tracing the heaven’s scar as it ran into the horizon.
The woman continued to run her fingers through his hair like she would with a beloved pet. “I do have no family name. As such, I have many names over my life. The one I am currently fond of is Fu Kong.”
As if she had gotten what she came for, she gracefully rose to her feet and retreated back to the edge of the darkness. The shadows that fled when she revealed herself now returning, bathing the cave in total darkness.
“Do make sure to eat your meals, I will return with a change clothes for you. Unless, that is, you prefer those rags clinging to your bandages?”
Mareus lowered him so back into kowtow. “Mistress Fu Kong, you bless me with your kindness.”
His words were met with silence, and after a few heartbeats he raised his head to find only darkness awaiting him.
After breaking free from the awe, he finally examined his body for the first time. He had become noticeably thinner from skipping so many meals while his body was healing. It wasn't quite at the level that could be considered unhealthy, but he was already smaller than most children his age, and now he even skinnier.
His thick black hair was crusted and knotted, with some of it knitted into his robes. It's oil seeping into what was left of his clothes and his bandages. That wasn't the worst of it, though. The thing that shocked him the most was the stench.
While retching, he thought. How did I noticed this before?
Mareus reeked with the pungent odor of rot and filth. He was reminded of after the wedding and the parts of the Shou that were left in the field to decompose before being turned into fertilizer.
Breaking free from his regrettable fantasy, he felt a kind of enlightenment that was quickly replaced with embarrassment. I can't believe I was in front of someone like her while like this. He agonized and rolled in his makeshift bed while covering his face.
He frantically looked around for anything to help him hide the stench and, hopefully, his shame. When he noticed a few things that weren't there before. The darkness of the cave faded again, as if the shadows were imitating the clouds on an overcast day.
Without the distraction of a heavenly fairy or his eyes blurred from his tears, he could finally clearly make out his surroundings. And it was no wonder he could find the exit before, instead of a wide area, naturally carved out inside a cave. The room was more like a misshapen bowl with a high ledge that led to several more dark passages.
In the bowl, the closest wall had a small table and stool with a used candle and some parchment. The adjacent one revealed a pile of furs he couldn’t recognize. On the far end of the cave were some plants he'd never seen before. As Mareus got closer he noticed: a small bucket of water, a piece of pumice soap, and a cloth.
He absentmindedly spoke. “I guess she really thought of everything.”
Mareus realized that either the stool was far heavier than it looked, or he had gotten that much weaker as he struggled to drag it between two bigger plants. He tore off his tattered clothes and sat down before fighting with his bandages.
“I'm glad you're taking the initiative to explore on your own.”
He connected the sudden voice into a lot of his feet while trying to cover anything he could. Although the remains of his robe didn't cover much more than the wraps already were.
Unbothered, Fu Kong continued. “I worried that you'd fall back into your depression after I'd left. But seeing you up and about is a testament to the strength of your soul.”
He slowly climbed back onto his seat as the strange woman spoke. Making sure to have most of his body turned away from her. When she suddenly stopped speaking, he looked back to see if he had disappeared again. Instead, she was gracefully sitting on a inky black ledge he didn't notice before.
“Mistress, I don't want to seem disrespectful, but do you need something from me?”
Her face didn't change as she thought for a moment. “There's no rush, I can wait until you're ready.”
Accepting that she had no intention of giving him any privacy, he started scrubbing the areas that weren't covered by his bandages. He quickly noticed that when he accidentally scrubbed over the edges of the bandage, it drank the soapy water. What was even more surprising was that the characters wriggled like they were alive before the bandages secreted some sort of brown substance.
The stink was even more horrendous than before, he immediately slapped it away and watched as it splashed in the bucket. The gunk sizzled away in a matter of seconds until the water was clear again.
Experimentally, he cupped his hand and scooped some of the water onto his leg. Mareus immediately regretted that because the smell was so overwhelming he released what little there was left in his stomach into the bucket.
While covering his nose, he hurriedly cleaned up the remainder of the gunk and made sure to only wash small sections before scraping away what came out into the bucket.
Train to distract himself, he started up a conversation with the woman watching over him. “You said you'd wait until I was ready. What am I supposed to be ready for?”
“Before anything else, we'll have to get you something substantial in your stomach, or you'll waste away completely. You’ll also be needing new robes that are preferably more durable. Your old ones are beyond anything that could be called clothes now, and there's no point of getting you ones that will only fall apart right away.”
Mareus stared at the tattered cloth that was no different than the rag he was using to wash his own body. Wondering just what exactly she had in store for him.
Next chapter

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Memory Transcription Subject: Hileen, Krakotl Fugitive Recovery Agent
Date [standardized human time]: November 28th, 2136
It'd been a while since I sat in Marlig's office for a talk face-to-face. Given the agency's secluded location at the edge of the downtown region, it was a chore to drop by when it wasn't for business, but I'd deemed the matter at hand to be worth my time.
I passed by Nampi at her desk on my way to the door and she gave me a coy glare as I carried on. Trying to ignore her risible ear waggle, I turned the corner to the door with my boss’s name painted on the glass panel where I could hear the frantic crumpling of paper.
Quietly, I entered Marlig's office without prompt as I knew he hated to be spooked by knocking. My mentor was surprisingly spry for a bird at his age, sorting through papers with one wing and an eye while using his talons with the other to set away the papers he had splayed out.
“Hileen!” he chirped. “Glad you could make it in today. I was just finishing up my paperwork. Take a seat.”
It was always nice to hear him drop the professional motif for a more grandfatherly attitude when speaking in person. I did as he suggested and took a seat while he grumbled to himself over the sorting. My eye caught a few of the old contracts he was rifling through and saw that some dated back to his days as an agent.
Eventually, he left some sitting out as he sequestered the rest back into their files, sorted by a dichotomy that only he and Nampi could comprehend fully. He motioned with a wing for me to peruse and I turned the first one to face me to find it was my first contract, signed by me in a sloppy fashion. “This takes me back a couple of years.”
“Slick bastard thought he could get away on a forklift but you showed him! Certainly more exciting than my first day!”
“Mm-hmm. And it was when I nearly got impaled that you had the idea to commission all of us utility vests.”
He chuckled, “I really should’ve done so sooner. Cuts and scratches were already a risk, but a forklift was a new one!”
I flipped through the pages of each report, finding that Marlig's notes were filled with praises of my work. There were highs and lows, but I was flattered to find that the grizzled krakotl held my performance in such high regard.
“Flawless interception!” read one footnote about me catching a runner. “Couldn't have done it better myself!”
Marlig waited patiently as I browsed quickly through each page, realizing more and more how the notes also marked improvements in my work. How I found it easier to talk down a rowdy client, or apprehend them in the case that they were beyond helping on my part. Flowery language plastered most pages with him fawning over my work as a doting father would to his prodigal child.
The trend took a sharp turn as the notes became fewer and more critical the closer the dates reached to the present. I brushed the others aside with a wing to peruse the final paper. “And this…”
“Is Tac. Your latest contract. The most recent in a line of declining performance since the interview. This has become a pattern, Hileen, and its consequences are beginning to reach beyond yourself. Paji and Vesek resigned recently for personal reasons, which leaves us even less hands on deck than before. That's four people to cover the entire municipal region, and maybe even beyond, should needs arise. Three, if we include this little probation I have you on.”
“What was I supposed to do? Marlig, these ‘jobs’ you've got us working on overstep the contracts we were signed on with. Our job is to make sure people obey their court-mandated duties, not drag them off to the facilities ourselves!”
“... So the trip we took to the facilities did bother you.”
A sigh clicked in my throat as he reminded me. “Is that what happens to the people we take in, Marlig? Is that what would've happened to your wife?”
His feathers ruffled.
“That's what happens to those who are too dangerous to the general public to be left roaming free. Not everyone we deal with winds up there, but everyone can be subject to it. Miskela sued for her exoneration and proved in court that she was not diseased. I brought you there to show you how it helps the people, but I see now that it was a mistake. I understand why you were so perturbed, really, but it's how things have been for centuries. It's how we've protected ourselves from the dangers out there.”
“You were willing to let Barsul be interned there, too.”
Marlig flinched and sighed as he swept the papers towards himself once I'd signaled I was done. He turned one eye to me while he sorted them.
“There's no room for favoritism, girl. I negotiated for him to be allowed to walk free, and look where that got me. That boy - your neighbor - suffered the consequences of my nepotism. So too would the girl, had nobody intervened.”
“Like Richard.”
“The human, yes. Or you. Or the police. Where does this sudden obsession with humans come from, anyway? I get notifications of you talking about the acceptance of them all the time on forums.”
“Does it even need explaining?”
“Well, I guess not, no, but it's certainly an about-face from the way you used to talk about them with me beforehand.”
“People can change, for better or worse. Which one I fall under remains to be seen.”
Marlig stroked at the plumage on his neck as he finished his sorting. “I hope it's the former, for your sake. Was there any reason you came to talk, or were you just checking that I hadn't gone senile?”
“Well, I was hoping to borrow your secretary for the evening.”
He perked up while his eyes narrowed and he laced his fingers together with curiosity. “You… want to spend an evening with Nampi?”
“It's not what you're insinuating, but yes.”
“I was insinuating nothing,” he warbled coyly. “Go ahead and take her, and make sure to split the bill at dinner.”
“Pain-in-the-ass geezer. I'll keep in touch if your friend causes any more trouble.”
“Keep in touch regardless. Miskela and I get lonely in our old age,” he called back. “Take care.”
I stepped out into the hallway and turned toward the desk where I could hear the secretary's claws tapping furtively at her keyboard. Nampi sat silently with her ears and tail in a relaxed position that implied a bored demeanor. There was barely any response as I stood before her, waiting politely for her acknowledgment that never came.
Hesitantly, I cleared my throat.
An ear raised in acknowledgement, but her focus remained on the screen of her computer. “Mhm?”
“Do you…?”
Her ear rotated toward me, though she still maintained a passive attitude as she continued to glare mindlessly at the monitor.
“Are you free this evening?”
“Well, I'm quite booked, I believe. Why do you ask?”
I was surprised at her curt, dry tone. She hadn't spoken with me like this since we first got to know one another.
“Well,” I started. “I realized something. Every time we went out, whether it was clubbing, or dinner, or even walking around the parks, you always footed the bill. And so…”
Slowly, her other ear perked up and I saw her keystrokes slow down as she listened in.
“I wanted to return the favor?”
Her lips smacked as she opened her mouth, though paused before she spoke. “How could you possibly do that?”
“With a little gesture of friendship.”
Nampi's horizontal pupil turned up toward me and her tail twitched.
I continued, “So that belt you're wearing? It's the same belt you've worn since we first met. And I know you're the pragmatic type who'd never spend a credit more than she needs to, except for all the times you do"- her ears twitched in indignance -"I wanted to see about getting you a little something… extra?”
Her paws raised from the keyboard and she leaned in, resting her snout on her palms. “Go on.”
The bubbly venlil's tail sold out her collected facade as it twitched with anticipation. She was cornered and she didn't even know it yet.
“Well, I found just the place on the other side of town where we can start. It's a place almost as rich and indulgent as yourself.”
“The Platinum Paw? I mean3”
Her ears folded back in embarrassment as she cracked. She wasn't cut out for acting anyway.
“So that's what it's called! Jeez, I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was called. Now what do you say? We go over there and find you something nice—”
I hadn’t even finished my thought before Nampi had grabbed her bag and was out the door, giving me a playful tail flick that said come and get me.

The place I suggested was in a shopping center on the opposite side of town, though easily accessible because of its proximity to the transport rails. Nampi had insisted on grabbing something to eat beforehand and so now gleefully bit into a bundle of stalks that had been “grilled” as explained from the food truck we'd stopped at.
Her tail flicked back and forth with her usual enthusiasm as we entered the massive complex of stores. The roofless plan allowed the natural, orange sun to flood the upper levels while artificial lighting illuminated the ground level wherever the light couldn't reach.
The place was built in the last decade by the previous City Magister in a bid for popularity, though ultimately for naught as he would lose the vote following a scandal involving an iftali priestess and a carved bar of soap. I had to say that despite being sick in the head, he sure had a great sense of decor.
Nampi snacked away, joining me in admiring the scenery as we continued to the place I’d planned out for us. Aimless chatter all melded together into a single, thrumming murmur as pedestrians navigated the many levels and stores offered in the place.
A troupe of children passed by us, held in a chain of tails and arms as they were escorted by a pair of venlil who I assumed were students and teachers on a school trip. I caught a whiff of a sweet, aromatic breeze and found it to come from a perfume shop on the same level as us; naturally, venlil were not to be found inside.
We passed a fountain where a couple sat on the edge, their tails twined together as they giggled and flirted. I turned and caught Nampi watching them as well, though she awkwardly returned to sucking the remains of her meal from her claws when we made eye contact. Her ears lifted when I raised a wing to signal to the store we were going to stop at first.
“Platinum Paw, The Greatest Fashion Emporium For Everyone!”
The title alone was painfully cliche, taken to the tenth power by the brightly lit store taking up three department slots. Despite the flashy exterior, though, it was the best place to shop for belts, brooches, and bracelets alike. Customers who looked like they earned my yearly salary in a week browsed the higher end brands while I brought my friend to the section I wanted to show her.
Her ears were held up as we stood together next to a shelf chock full of fashionable bags and bandoliers of every variety.
“Pick one,” I told her.
Nampi's ears shot to a straight pose in surprise, “Any?”
“Within reason. I've got a few extra credits to blow and I know nobody better to spend it on.”
With an inviting headtilt, I let Nampi peruse the shelves at her leisure. Her lips pursed together and her tail flicked with glee as she fingered at every piece that caught her eye. I chuckled at her outburst of enthusiasm while turning to find my own items to gloss over.
A breeze from outside nipped at my beak while I considered what I’d like to purchase. The place dripped with an atmosphere of faux hospitality, from the bright blue-stained floorboards to the radio prattling off advertisements in a sickeningly sweet tone to the faint, fruity aroma of scented cleaner. It was oppressive as only a fissan-owned company could be to the senses.
What I wouldn’t pay to see how a human would fare in such an environment.
I knew they were social creatures at least, but I had no doubt that the predatory senses of a human, so honed to hunting, would get overstimulated in this center of gaudy indulgence. Knowing I was something of a predator myself made me sympathize provided that even I had to squint to keep the pale lights inside from searing my eyes. I could only imagine how the arboreal eyes of a Terran would fare. I was so lost in thought imagining how lost the Terrans would be that I could almost ignore the obnoxious giggling and metallic rattling coming from behind me.
Risking a peek at the source, into my sight came a pair of venlil, one a male carrying a pair of bags as well as a couple more strapped to his belt. The bored expression in his eyes was not one of a man who was in high spirits. The other venlil was a woman who was the source of the noise.
Her mottled gray pelt was accented by a tasteful belt design, free of almost any practical functions but not flashy or excessive in garnishment either. At least, that’s what I would say, were it not for the braid of beads that dangled on the belt, jingling with each bounce of the lively woman’s stride. It was clear that such a gaudy accessory was intended to draw attention to her, though why was a mystery. Certainly, the shiny braids seemed designed as decoration first and practical second.
She turned about and I faced back to my browsing before she could catch me staring. Nampi was nowhere in sight, though I figured she was somewhere behind the shelf, sifting through every accessory on the section I'd suggested.
Clink.
Something pelted to my immediate right. I tilted my head to spot a tree nut shell clattering to the floor. Without being able to guess where it came from, I had to wonder what could've launched it over this way. Even with my keen eyesight, nobody in the crowd seemed to be a suspect.
Clink.
Another shell pelted my vicinity, ricocheting off of the floor and hitting the shelf I was standing next to. I ruffled my feathers in frustration - clearly, someone was trying to get my attention, though I couldn't make out who it was. Out of the corner of my vision, the woman from before eyed me curiously as I looked about, though I wasn't interested in engaging with her.
Thwack.
One more shell came flying and, unfortunately, the aim on this one was true, nailing me on the beak. Irritated, I stormed out of the store to find the source of the instigator. I scanned over the bodies to find anyone who could've been responsible for this indignity, eventually concluding that it came from the dining area across the walkway.
Whoever was responsible was in for an earful and I was already structuring which of the offender's family members would be acceptable as fodder for stray words. As I approached, I found the tables were mostly empty save for one, which made my heart begin to drop as I met eyes with the only occupant. Suddenly, I was much less inclined to hurl insults.
“Oh, hi there!” Qitel called out in a sickly sweet tone. “Come, take a seat! We have much to discuss!”
The Exterminator clutched a bag of tree nuts in his claws, a pile of discarded shells already gathered on the table next to him. He grabbed another as I approached, effortlessly prying the shell in half between two claws and tossed the contents into his mouth. “Good protein, these,” he commented as I sat down.
“Must be for that good arm you've got there,” I mumbled. I caught sight of a couple of bags beneath his chair, seemingly from one of the tech stores contained within the center.
“Bah, it's guesswork. So how are you? I haven't heard from you since we worked together!”
“I was just spending time with a friend, shopping and enjoying my time off.”
“Your time off? Oh, am I interrupting something?”
His snide tone irked me, though now wasn’t the time for interjections. “You are, Qitel,” I replied with no shortage of vitriol in my tone. “But I see no harm in chatting for a bit.”
“Good, because I have some merchandise”- he reached into his belt pocket and deposited a couple of items onto the table -“and you’re just the person to look into it, human sympathizer.”
I drew a terse breath in shock, but my worries were quelled when I considered that if Qitel had the power to do anything about it, he would’ve done so instead of approaching me so discreetly. A glance down at the item on the table showed that he was presenting what looked to be a tracker as well as a personal drive. “Found in the garbage,” he told me.
“The guild resorts to dumpster diving when they already have such a bloated budget now?”
“No, featherbrain, I have decided to keep this for myself. These items were found together, sealed in a plastic pouch, and placed in a garbage bin. The city has bans against electronics being placed into public bins, and so I was curious why this wound up in there. Managed to get my coworker, a techie, to crack it open and…”
Qitel reached into his belt again, glowering at me with the same condescending gaze he’d given me when I first saw his face. He seemed to revel in digging for the item as slowly as possible to waste my time. Finally, he found whatever he was looking for and revealed it as a printed piece of paper, folded into eighths. The snobby yotul threw the unfurled paper on the table and rolled it toward me.
I craned my neck to look at the parchment, though I was immediately perplexed by the text on it; it appeared to be some sort of form, going by the boxes with words on the inside, followed by blank lines. “Found on the drive, here,” Qitel told me, jabbing a claw to the storage. “Translator shows it as Terran writing.”
Drawing my holopad from my satchel, I held it over the paper with the translator to get an understanding. Surely enough, the language on it came up positive as a variant of Terran writing and I was affirmed in it being a form of some sort based on the wording of the text. The boxes seemed like an odd sort of job application, asking for the typical name, contacts, and prior work experiences, but quickly took a strange turn as it began asking for where their home on Earth was prior to arrival, what family they had on Venlil Prime if any, and where they worked, implying that they were seeking individuals who were already employed.
I knew little about human employment methods, but I didn’t imagine that sourcing individuals from other jobs was the most efficient way to gain a workforce. Terran service industries already dotted the planet while many humans also found work in local environments. So what was the angle that the creator of this application was going for?
Most concerningly was that the paper had no insignia, identifying marks, or noted address to return the form to. “And where did you find it again?”
“In the garbage, alongside this intact tracker that was activated at the time of recovery. Y’know, when I was dumpster diving. Text on the document showed it was addressed to one ‘Choctaw Nexus’.”
“A pseudonym of some sort?”
“Clearly. Short sorting through the archives shows the first name traces back to the group out east - perhaps you've heard about them. How the name and the items we have here are connected is beyond my understanding, but-”
“Well, this has been an absolutely riveting discussion about your collection of trash, Qitel,” I told him as I stood up to leave. “But this really sounds like an issue to be resolved by your fellow guildsmen.”
The sound of another shell splitting rang out as I turned away.
“I'm not through talking with you, predator.”
The sting as a piece nailed me in the back of the head prompted me to whirl back around, sticking my beak in the insolent yotul's snout. “Perhaps you've forgotten, little man,” I cooed in an equally bittersweet tone to the one he gave me before. “The krakotl never had a problem with settling issues the old-fashioned way before the interview. Try me and find out why I'm in the line of work I am.”
“Oh, we wouldn't want that in such a"- he waved his paw to a group of passersby who had stopped to gawk at my display -”public forum. Please, contain yourself.”
I had to force the feathers on my back to settle and I raised my head away from him. “What else is it you wanted, then?”
“Well, I'd appreciate if you took this merchandise off my paws,” he told me as he brushed the electronics and printout toward me.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you're closer to the humans than I'd ever care to be, and may be able to find out who this Choctaw Nexus is. Something about the package just feels… off. And I know when to trust my feelings. Besides, we both know that you know where Tac is, don't we?”
“I don't-”
“We have videographic evidence that you conspired with a human - of the aforementioned squatters, no less - and let the kid escape. You're not as sneaky as you think, and if we find this ‘Choctaw Nexus’ turns out to be a bad actor that can be traced back to them - and by extension, you - well, there’d be no talking down my boss from having you dealt with. By helping me find out who this is, you may yet be able to clear your name of any wrongdoing.”
I clenched my beak tightly to maintain a straight face. Qitel stood up with a flourish and discarded the bag he was carrying in a bin.
“See, the krakotl were never special for using threats and bullying to get results. It's because you were good at killing predators,” he jeered. “Now, if you don't mind, this primitive has appointments to attend to… old lady who got trampled courtesy of the humans and all. You stay out of trouble, Hileen, and stay in touch.”
The self-assured marsupial melded into the crowd in a matter of seconds, leaving me with a table containing dumpster trophies and a pile of shells. Reluctantly, I swept the shells into my wing and dumped them into the bin before gathering the other two items he'd left me and stuffing them into my bag. I'd been gone from Nampi long enough and she would notice my absence before long.
Crossing the walkway again, I could spot from where I stood that Nampi was indeed still in the Platinum Paw. I approached, and soon I found that while she didn't seem to have noticed me stepping away, she was definitely in a soured mood based on the sagging of her ears and tail. With my talons clacking on the floorboards, I hustled to her side and her mood chippered up ever so slightly as she heard me approach.
I chimed in, “Find anything?”
“Everything. I want everything, Red, and I can't decide on what I want. They all just look so great!”
From behind, a voice called out, “Nampi!”
We both jumped at the exclamation and turned about to spot the venlil lady I'd seen before spring from behind the shelf. The man poked his head from behind the shelf too, though less enthusiastically and with yet another bag in his clutches. My friend's eyes widened in surprise with her tail and ears perking up in kind. With a light in her eyes, she exclaimed, “Nalek!”
The two embraced with shrill squeals and laughter as Nalek's accompaniment and I traded awkward glances.
“It's been too long!”
“You never stayed in contact!”
The women exchanged giddy greetings and the pompous stranger turned to me, leering over me as though she was sizing me up.
“Who's your friend here?”
“Oh she's actually my-...”
Nampi paused for a moment, looking back to me.
“Yeah, she's a friend.”
“A friend,” Nalek repeated while her eyes flicked between Nampi and I. “Right.”
Somehow, I get the impression that that was judgemental.
“I'm Hileen, by the way,” I chirped, “if names are to be exchanged.”
“Hileen, that's a lovely name! And such plumage to match, it's a wonder you aren't swarmed by suitors!”
Internally, I groaned at the notion. The idea of being approached by someone to state their interest in me made me queasy, to say the least. Thankfully, I never had that issue growing up as most of the other drakes in school were too busy chasing girls who didn't have a lousy pigmentation mutation such as myself.
“I'm flattered,” I told Nalek before turning to the man whose name had yet to be introduced. “May we get your name?”
“Sask.”
His response was succinct and tonally flat, though there was a brief silence as I expected him to elaborate. Nalek's beads jingled as she lashed him on the calf with her tail.
“I'm Sask, Nalek's fiancée,” he added, throwing her a look to see if she was satisfied.
Nampi gasped with her paws over her snout. “Fiancée! Nalek, you're getting married and you never even told me!”
“Well, I felt a little guilty since it technically broke our pact we made when we were pups. You remember that?”
“Of course! Why wouldn’t I? ‘Let she who bonds through betrothal first be cast out unto the world for all to admonish her!’”
Sask and I both gave inquisitive expressions. “You two spoke like that as pups?” Sask asked.
“Well, I'm paraphrasing,” Nampi admitted with a playful ear waggle. “But you get the gist.”
“Indeed, they do, sweet Nampi. Now, may I ask what you're doing bringing your avian friend here into this store on this fine claw?”
“Oh, no no, she's the one treating me! Isn't that right, Red?”
I saw her tail twitch and was sure it took restraint not to tickle my neck with it as we stood before her old friend.
“She's been a good friend,” I explained. “So I wanted to reverse the roles for once and treat her to something myself.”
Nampi skipped over to me and wrapped her arm around me, glancing back to her old friend. “See? We'd all be so lucky to have a… friend like her.”
“So I've witnessed. But perhaps you're a bit stuck, as I've seen you prancing up and down these aisles for a while, no? Maybe you don't know what you want?”
“Nalek, you know I've never been good about making my mind up.”
“Some things never change, you ditz. Tell you what: you and Sask go find us a seat and we can catch up all we'd like when we're not taking up aisle space, yes? So shoo! I'll help Hileen here pick one out for you!”
With a bored grunt, Sask made off with the goods he had strapped to himself, followed by Nampi who gave me one more playful tail flick before dashing off into the crowd. I looked back to the mottled snout of Nalek who watched her friend wander off with a wistful glance.
“She was my first, you know.”
“Your what now.”
“Love. Way back when we were growing from pups into young adults back in private education, we explored much together. We saw each other through a lot, including the less savory parts of finding a mate. When Nampi realized it wasn't the boys she was into, she turned to me, and I offered my hand as her stalwart companion… to a point.”
“You weren't interested in her the same way?”
“I'd grown up seeing her as a sister of sorts, so ultimately, when we split it off, we stayed close as friends and she never seemed to be bothered by it. She struggled to find others in school who had the same interests as herself, but she never fussed about it.”
Nalek's claws browsed over a set of pouched bandoliers made with intricate embroidering. “Have you two… spent the night together? Alone?”
Spiritually, I reeled from the inquiry. The whiplash from that question was equitable to being smacked by a human. “Wha- why? How's that pertinent to the subject at hand?”
“That sounds like a ‘yes’ to me,” she purred with a smug glance my way.
I didn't need to begin to list the different ways such a question was violating to our privacy, and yet this woman was treating it like a game.
“Not really your concern, ma'am.”
Nalek chuckled as she picked out one of the bandoliers and inspected it with her claws. “I'd like to think that she and I still have that old connection, despite everything. And to that end, I know that she's no slag and doesn't trust easy. To see her be so vulnerable around you and to talk so highly of someone who's clearly below her income level as a predator…”
She stretched the bandolier out to appreciate the design in its entirety.
“Well, that's something special. Here"- she foisted the accessory into my wings as I stood gobsmacked -"this just screams her name.”
“This is, like, double my budget.”
“Love don't come cheap, darling. You wanna see good things happen, sometimes you've gotta step out of your comfort zone and grasp for it!”
“I'm being lectured by a rich woman on finances.”
“It's a philosophy that goes beyond money, ‘Red.’ The humans have a saying, in their horrendously predatory nomenclature, that contains a kernel of truth: ‘you miss every shot you don't take’.”
Yep, that's definitely a human phrase.
Nalek's steely braid rattled with every flick of the tail as we proceeded through the checkout.
“You want things to change between you and her?” she continued. “Don't just wait for it to happen.”
She let the conversation rest there as we finished the purchase, possibly to let me recuperate mentally from the damage done to my account. Outside, we found our respective partners sitting at a table with Sask looking up in boredom as Nampi chatted away, though she immediately shut up and turned to me with excited flicks of her tail as she saw what I was carrying.
I held it toward her and she happily shot to her feet, effortlessly removing the tags with her claws and clipping it to her belt. Nalek clapped and waggled her tail as the giddy lady did a whirl about to let us admire the accessory. While I'd have preferred one with pockets to give it a more practical use, I decided to let Nalek have the victory as our mutual friend clearly enjoyed it.
The rest of the paw was a blur as the two friends chatted without end until Sask eventually reminded his betrothed that they had a schedule to attend to. Though Nalek offered to call us a taxi home as a gesture of kindness, I saw through her ruse to determine that she was trying to pull a fast one on me - the clever ear flick she gave as we boarded the automated vehicle sold it for me.
We sat in the seats as the vehicle took the express ride home.
Nampi cleared her throat before she spoke, “Thank you for taking some time to spend with me, I know you've had a lot less free time as of late.”
“It's a prison of my own design, if I must be honest. A feedback loop of working a job that doesn't guarantee a paycheck to pay for rent that keeps going up, and thus needing to work more.”
The venlil giggled and chided me, “You really should've stayed in university.”
“There's a lotta 'should haves’ that've led me to this point. No use wondering what could have been.”
“There's always a use for wondering what could have been, Hileen.”
She wrapped an arm around my shoulder.
“Every decision I make, I always wonder what I could've done differently that it'd have turned out better,” she explained as she waved her free paw to the sky. “It's how you grow as a person, Red.”
Her silky pelt felt heavenly in contrast to the chilly air from outside, making it hard to let her words sink in.
“You rich types seem chock full of philosophy. I wonder if I'll become a brooding orator when I get some cash to my name.”
The cab filled with laughter as we veered around the final corner to my neighborhood, as it was the closest stop. The door popped open accompanied by a chime from the drone, signaling for me to depart.
But before my talons could even hit the pavement, I felt Nampi's scrawny arms wrap around my waist and she let out a pitiful mewl again.
“You don't need to get off here,” she told me with a pouty expression. “We can spend the rest of the paw at my place.”
“I'd love it, but I need to water my plants and get the month's bills sorted before they're due. Again.”
One claw at a time, I plucked her paws from around my waist and the childish venlil conceded, giving me another ear waggle as I departed. “I'll see you tomorrow?” I asked her.
“If you still have eyes by then, then you can bet your ass!”
“I still don't gamble.”
“You'll come around to it eventually.”
I shut the door to the taxi and watched as it carted away the one venlil who I ever truly felt on the same wavelength as. Fiddling with the lock felt like more of a chore than usual at this time as I felt a little voice tugging at the back of my head.
“You miss every shot you don't take.”
The lock felt jammed as I began to jiggle it more vigorously with the electric key. Either the RFID or NFC readers were messed up, as the lock refused to accept my key. I looked up and down the street, though Nampi was now long gone for me to rescind my earlier rejection.
“Every decision I make, I wonder what I could've done differently.”
The door rattled as I grew more and more infuriated with the lock. Qitel's smug expression as he threatened me so boldly in public played back in my head, and I wondered what would've happened had I decided to go through with insulting his mother. Better yet, I wondered what could've been had I not backed down in the face of his unflinching confidence.
Bzzt. The lock rejected my key again.
“Raagh! You fucking useless hunk of junk!”
I squawked in anger and kicked against the door, careless of the consequences of having Markol back down here to admonish another of his tenants for causing a ruckus. The walls were surprisingly sturdy for how ineffective the venlil architecture looked on the surface and I reeled back in pain as my leg throbbed.
Click.
I looked to my left to see that it wasn't my door that came open, but that of the twins. The door cracked open ever so slightly, no doubt nudged by the force of my tirade and I sighed. Nobody was expected to be home at this time, with Vili being away and Luka leaving early to get a head start.
Luka had been given a stern talking-to by the landlord for allowing one of those cats into his apartment through neglect, and I was disappointed that he seemed to have not learned his lesson this time. In fact, it seemed he hadn't even thought to lock the door this time.
I took it upon myself to shut the door for him before turning back to my own apartment door. Grasping the key with one talon, I turned it ever so gently, though the lock still refused to give in.
With a bit more force, the torsion applied to the key felt as though it should've snapped it by now. Markol sure didn't waste any expense for the security for this place, doubtlessly as a result of his history in electronic security, but I wished now that he had provided a way in that didn't rely on privately sourced locks.
Considering my options as I stood trapped outside, I realized that I had never gotten around to paying for a new lock for Tadi. I'd considered contacting her to inform her that Tac had made it out of town safely, but that'd involve also telling her that her son was now in the care of humans as if that was a better outcome to her.
Stepping out front, I realized that there was one more option I hadn't considered: my window. I usually forgot to lock it after I was through letting air circulate and I was silently grateful to myself for this absentmindedness now more than ever. Sticking a foot on the threshold, I lifted myself in a way that'd allow me to have leverage to force the window open.
The window made me fight for every inch, but I felt a strange satisfaction as it slowly opened up into an entrance that I could squeeze my way through. I let out a sigh as my talons clicked against the cool floor and slid the window shut.
I laid my satchel on the couch and turned back to the door, ready to unleash my fury on the disobedient object. But as I reached for the lock to manually open the door, I noted that the lights on the RFID interface both flashed at once, blinking erratically. Red and green flickered without rhyme or reason, indicating that it was both active and inactive.
As pretty as the colors were, I now knew that Markol's locks were not as reliable as he had touted them about: typically, such would not occur unless the device was damaged deliberately, and yet nothing indicated that I'd had uninvited guests. One could pray that those cats didn't secretly know how to cobble together an ECM jammer, but my personal wager was on faulty equipment.
Settling in, I browsed my favorite soaps on the television. For what was intended to be a day of relaxation and show of affection for a friend, I found myself rather wound up over all the things that added up. Couples threw around flowery words and swooned over one another on screen as I felt the tension diffuse. My holopad rang and I turned it over to spot that Nampi was informing me that she'd arrived home safely.
>>> Feels empty here, all alone.
She made sure to drive the point home with a sticker of a venlil making a pouty expression.
Next time, I thought to myself, I'll get it right for you, Nampi.
[ First / Previous / Next ]

I purchased the “Find Your Essence” personal curated discovery set for DSH Perfumes from their Etsy shop. It was $35 USD compared to the $25 for the pick your own scent discovery set. It came with five 1 mL sample vials personally chosen by the perfumer and a few extra samples on the side. The vials are dabbers in a vdp (voile de parfum) oil format, not my favorite, so it was hard to judge longevity and projection this way. However, SPOILER ALERT, I ended up purchasing two larger sized EDPs based on this discovery set and the longevity on those is excellent (all day on skin and clothing).
When submitting my purchase for this discovery set, I was asked to include information on what I was looking for and what scents I already enjoy. Basically I said I was looking for a vintage floral animalic and separately, something green. I received Tubereuse, Chinchilla, Emerald Hyrax, Musc Al Madina, and Halfeti Rose. Midway through my sampling I reached out to DSH Perfumes via Etsy messaging just to let them know how much I was enjoying the discovery set and received a reply from Dawn Spencer Hurwitz herself, so she seems to be very involved in the process. I feel like she did an excellent job with the choices I was sent based on my preferences.
Quotes included at the beginning of my reviews are the perfumers' descriptions taken from the DSH Perfumes website. I am just a novice admirer of things that smell good, so of course these mini reviews/impressions are just my own opinions. I have more samples from DSH that came with this set and also with the two bottles I bought so I can maybe do a part 2 if there is any interest :)
Tubereuse - “Its milky white and flesh flowers bear the secret of attraction. In India, this flower is called ‘Mistress of the Night:’ The most sensuous and intoxicating of perfumes.” Tubereuse is a sweet, creamy, and rich tuberose. Not much else going on but it’s oh so pretty. Whatever this soft base is, it’s really nice. It’s not complicated, it’s exactly its title; a soliflore tuberose. Lovely, I can't stop sniffing my wrists.
Chinchilla - “A ‘retro nouveau’ floriental/honey musk animalic fragrance. It’s gorgeously sexy, and yet so very cozy and comforting.” My latest OBSESSION. Chinchilla is a soft honeyed animalic. It is indeed gorgeous and sexy. A very vintage feeling, animalic floral. This can be worn dressed up for an evening out but it also feels very comfy on your favorite sweatshirt curled up on the couch. It opens with this rush of sweet honey and then these soft, powdery florals all with this musky hint of something furry underneath. If I made that sound too sweet, it really isn’t. Smells great on clothing but AMAZING on skin. This was an instant love and I ended up purchasing a 10 mL bottle.
Emerald Hyrax - “The newest addition to ‘my menagerie’ of animalic fragrances: a glamorous, retro-nouveau green chypre animalic with notes of Galbanum, Bergamot, Muguet, Jasmine(s), Sandalwood, Amber, Cistus, and Oakmoss.” Emerald hyrax to me has a boozy but green opening. There is no booze note listed so go figure. There is galbanum which I love and it’s giving it this fresh cut grass thing. After that there are some sparkly florals along with a soft animalic musk. This is so beautiful. I feel like a woman ready to go out in the 1940s in my furs, hair perfectly coiffed, with a whiskey cocktail in hand. When I first tried it in its tiny vial, I was like “how can I get this little amount all over my body” because I wanted to BATHE in it. Needless to say, I purchased a larger sized EDP…
Musc Al Madina - “A dense and very dark, animalic musk with rich and earthy nuances.” Musc Al Madina is a dusty kinda musty musk and I like it. It’s a little funky but somehow still beautiful. It’s like the dark dusty corner of an antique attic where hand woven laces are being eaten away by time and old dried out bouquets have been long forgotten. It is a tad dank and dark but also pleasant at the same time. I appreciate this but I don’t think I could wear it. If you like something a bit dark and musty in your musks, then this could be for you!
Halfeti Rose - “A deep, red-black rose oud design, rich with resins, incense notes, and luscious pigmented fruits; featuring Turkish aromatics like Turkish rose absolute and Galbanum.” Halfeti Rose, oh my. This opened dark and smoky. Like, whoa, it caught me off guard with this thick charcoal smoke. That lightens up a bit and then this deep red rose pushes through, though that dense, dark, what I perceive to be smoky note, remains throughout. It could be the oud, I am not very familiar with actual oud (and not sure if that is what is used in this). I didn’t get any fruits or incense. I may need to revisit this again, I just wasn’t vibing with it. It is very interesting and was a little journey for my nose, but first impressions; this perfume would wear me. It would take over my life and do dark things. This is not for me.
BONUS SAMPLE (not included in my curated set)
Giverny in Bloom - “An impressionist style perfume of green budding trees, wet dewy flowers and soil, that transforms to a rich floral bouquet as it wears.” I went into this one blindly, knowing nothing but the name, which I vaguely recognized but couldn’t place where I knew it from. It opens with notes of realistic damp, freshly turned soil, and wet green leaves! I almost gasped out loud, this is a garden! It then turns into a beautiful soft floral like the garden is coming into bloom. Surely this is what people must mean when they refer to “perfume as art.” I had to know more, so headed over to the DSH perfumes website where I read that this was actually created for Denver Art Museum’s “In Bloom” exhibit ‘scent experience’. “The inspiration for Giverny In Bloom is not only taken from actual information about Monet’s garden but also from the flowers found in the paintings of the exhibit. This ties the scent experience to more than the Monet paintings in the show.” She definitely nailed it. And alas, I remembered where I recognized Giverny from. I’m sure a larger size is in my future.
TLDR; Go and get yourself some DSH Samples available in their Etsy shop or directly from the website DSHPerfumes.com

I've been dealing with severe irritant/allergic contact dermatitis to linalool and rubber for the past 2 years. Something odd about my dermatitis is that it is non-localized, meaning if I touch rubber or scented soap with my hands, my flair-up is ALWAYS on my lips and surrounding skin. I was unaware of the cause of my dermatitis for about 1 1/4 years though, until I got more extensive patch testing and confirmed my allergens. I was able to cut out all products containing linalool and found ways to avoid rubber (I'm allergic to a rubber accelerator so not all rubber poses as an allergen, but it's difficult because not all companies list the rubber accelerator in their MSDS or ingredients lists because accelerators are so frequently used).
Anyways, recently, I came in contact with linalool (from "Fragrance" in Aquaphor which I didn't know contained fragrance, as well as perfume). After being free from flair-ups for more than 6 months, and my skin being at the healthiest and strongest it's been in over 2 years, it all went away in a week. It started as some irritation and cracking in one corner of my lips and slowly spread to the entirety of the skin surrounding my lips. It's not NEARLY as bad as my flair-ups from when I was constantly exposed to my allergens, and I haven't been in contact with any of my allergens since the event in which I was, which was approximately 3-4 weeks ago. However, the symptoms did not begin to appear for about a week after my exposure.
My symptoms include:

• Red, itchy skin
• Mild swelling
• Burning sensation
• Skin peeling/constant exfoliation
• Raw skin/cracking
• Clearish-yellow fluid weeping and crusting over (BIGGEST CONCERN)

As I highlighted, my biggest concern is the weeping and crusting over. Its uncomfortable, makes me self-conscious, and also makes me think its a staph infection (which my derm also thought initially until antibiotics posed no change). Currently, I have been using tacrolimus 0.1% ointment to reduce the redness, swelling, pain, and weeping, which also leads to my skin healing slowly. Although, I do not like having to rely on tacrolimus because when I stop using it or after several hours of applying it, my skin goes back to the way it was before. I've also been taking benadryl to help me manage the pain and itching but don't want to keep using it everyday.
I guess what I'm looking for is some tips on how to manage/treat my allergic and irritant contact dermatitis without the use of any over extensive products or medications.

I discovered Shera's videos quite a few years ago, and loved her humour as well as her message to level up. I started noting down all her little gems. They give me motivation, and a giggle too. I am older, in my fifties, and have been happily married for over 15 years, so I don't need her dating, sugaring, or 'get the bag' advice, but I do love her level up advice. I saw another lady share her notes, so I wanted to as well. There are tons, I've realised! I hope you enjoy them!
~~

How do you become the prize?

If you don’t start as the prize, then you aren’t the prize. If you don’t know if your mind that you are already the prize then you can never be the prize.

~~

How to be more feminine so I can be spoiled more?

It’s a lifestyle. You have to act, fake it until you make it, and create a lifestyle. The days that you don’t feel very feminine are the days that you have to use more of your masculine energy.

Remember to always have a space to come back to that is feminine, and recharge yourself with feminine energy. Create a more feminine environment, wear more feminine clothes, listen to music that is going to help your femininity instead of diminishing it.

Keep things that you like to do feminine and do feminine things. Going shopping, getting your nails or hair done, buying shoes, picking out décor for our rooms, decorating tables, going on picnics, watching girly movies.

Recharge yourself by doing some of those things. You need to be able to recharge your femininity at least once or twice a week.

~~

Live the type of life you want already. It may not be on the scale that you want to live it at, but it needs to be a version of it. For example, if you want to live a soft, feminine life make sure your current life reflects that: your current environment, the current way you dress, the current way you walk, talk and act.

The more you receive, the better treatment you receive, if you can get a provider who can let you live a more feminine life, a softer life, then it's just going to get better and better.

But already live the life you want to live, that way they can only improve you and they see how you treat yourself and see what you like and that’s what they are going to be giving you. Your goals will be met just by dating.

~~

What are some ways to keep him interested in he provides well?

Look good
Make sure you know what his interest are
Talk to him
Make sure he feels like he is the man
Look good when you are out with him
Make sure you are pretty and heads turn ‘ooh who’s he with’
His self-esteem will skyrocket when you go out with him if you look good and he’s not going to want to leave that


~~

Men like women to switch it up as long as it’s classy.

~~

Flower attract bees to them by their bright colours and they smell good. Attract men to you:

· Wear bright pretty colours
· Smell good
· Look fresh, dewy and youthful
· Look attractive

Look like the prize. Look like his fantasy. Look through his eyes: what would he like to see?

It’s not that complicated. Bring it back down to simplicity? What do men like?

Heels
Skirts
Dresses
Makeup
Long hair
Red lipstick
Baby voice
Feminine colours
Make them feel good
Give them compliments
Let them talk
Don’t talk about your boring stuff – they don’t care

Use the formula to get success with men.

~~

If you want to dress casual in jeans and a cute top, still wear heels, hair, full makeup. If you’re going to wear jeans, you’re going to need to wear heels.

Also think about this: what sort of man are you attracting. If you wear jeans when you meet you’re going to get taken to a jeans date. Dress for the life you want.

~~

Comment:
When we had a fight I cut my hair short & bangs & went shopping. He was so glad he said “you look like a different person!” The fight was forgotten & he treated me new again & took me shopping again.

~~

"Life is fun! (...) life is a movie, life is a stage. Get into character... "

~~

Men don’t care about anything else but what you look like and how you make them feel.

~~

If you’ve let yourself go, level yourself up to the point that their jaw will drop when they see you.

~~

The only limitations are the ones you believe in.

~~

What do rich men’s wives all have in common besides being pretty?

They’re feminine
They’re classy
They’re not loud and obnoxious
They don’t outshine their husband
They hold back and keep it together in public
They are well proportioned

Shera had a friend who was a little rachet, and she ended up marrying wealthy. She had to totally change everything about herself:

The way she dressed
The way she wore her hair
The way she spoke
The kind of shoes she wore
Her makeup
She had to change it all
How she acted around people
How she spoke to men
She had to change everything
It’s not that she changed who she was inside or her personality
It’s that she changed who she was around men
There’s a difference

~~

Your stock should go up after you get married, not down. If your stock is not rising after marriage you’re doing it backwards. That means still investing into yourself, your beauty, your clothing, into your stash (money, wealth and investments). If you got married and your stock plummeted, that’s your fault.

~~

Loving yourself means putting yourself first as a priority. Knowing your worth and value and not taking any crap from anybody because you value yourself, you love yourself. That’s all loving yourself means. And not talking down about yourself. And knowing that you deserve what you want in life.

Once you do that other people will as well – men, co- workers, your boss, parents, spouse, brother, sister, cousin, whoever. Whoever is in your life at the moment will recognise that you love yourself and that you don’t have to submit to them or that you’re not desperate for their approval. In fact they may start to be desperate for your approval. So make sure you’re putting yourself first.

Don’t be always talking about the other person and what they want or what they think. Don’t care who they are. Don’t care about other people or their spouse or the person they’re interested in. It’s not about them, it’s about you. If they can’t recognise you and they don’t like you, then you are wasting time.

If you have to sit there and be puzzled about why someone is not responding properly or why they’re not doing this or that, it means they don’t like you so just move on and stop trying to waste time worrying about it. You already know that in the back of your mind; you’re just hoping for a different outcome that there won’t be.

Make sure that when you realise you are putting other people before yourself as a priority then you’re not going to get the type of man or people attracted to you that you need. When you can get somebody in the click of a finger and they’re not used to that it means you are valuable and that they are not necessary. They are very unnecessary and therefore they feel like you have even more value because you don’t need them. You don’t need them, they need you. That’s why they seek you out. That’s why they call you, that’s why they ask you out.

Make sure you’re not getting caught up in silliness. If they’re not putting you first, you’re gone. Or you put them on ice; that means you let them figure it out and when they start acting right again then you allow them back into your life. If you’re chasing behind someone, if you’re worrying about someone who ghosts you then you’re not putting yourself first.

And that means you don’t love yourself. A lot of people were taught to act a certain way – not cocky etc – if you don’t, all people see you as is a doormat. You can let down your guards later when they are fully invested in you and aren’t going anywhere, but until that happens they are there to impress you.

~~

How do you fall in love with yourself when you aren’t happy with yourself?

Become happy with yourself:

· Do things that make you happy
· Look the way you need to look
· Continue to do this every day until you are happy

Only you can make you happy

~~

Don’t go out there lookin’ like Plain Jane. Plain Jane gets passed by with the eye.

~~

The key is confidence. You can learn all you want, if you don’t have confidence you can’t pull it off. The key is confidence, knowing your value, and not listening to no dusties. That’s the key, that’s the masterclass right there – be confident.

Be main character energy. Stop caring what people think. Have a goal of what you want and go for it and don’t stop until you get it. Speak positive about yourself and stop dealing with dusties. That’s just it. You do all those things and you’re going to have something. You’re going to get what you’re looking for. That’s it.

~~

It’s not what you look like – it’s how you make them feel.

Are you going to make them feel young again?
Are you going to make life exciting for them?
Do they enjoy being with you?
Do they like being seen out in public with you?

~~

Shera, on when you talk about all your feelings and prior history:

“You’re being an informant on yourself. You’re telling on yourself. You’re giving out all your secrets and revealing everything. So that’s definitely not feminine energy, because feminine energy is naturally dark. You know, it’s water, it’s the cosmos, it’s that. So when you’re revealing everything, when nothing is unknown and everything is known, now you’re masculine. Because that’s light- everything is known. So the more you say, the more you tell, the more you open up, the more masculine you become in that energy, and the less mystery and femininity and feminine allure you have, because now you’re an open book. And they have all the clues to how the story ends and how to manipulate the character.”

~~

“Feminine energy is naturally dark, is water, is the cosmos, is that. So, when you are revealing everything, nothing is unknown and everything is known, now you’re more masculine, because that is light, everything is known.

So the more you say, the more you tell, the more you open up, the more masculine you become in that energy, and the less mystery and femininity and feminine allure you have because now you are an open book, you’re predictable.

And they have all the clues to how the story ends and how to manipulate the character.”

~~

Get them to worry about you, while you worry about you.

~~

How do you find your purpose? You create it.

~~

Leveling up is actually a lot of fun when you are present and mindful about it it’s probably be the best gift you could ever give yourself as a woman.

~~

Stop caring what other people think and live the life you want to live. If you don’t like kissing people’s butts, don’t kiss their butt.

~~

A lot of women don’t realise that if you just get into your feminine, and you stick with your standards, you can get what you ask for.

~~

How to become detached and unbothered?

Stop caring. When you care too much, that’s when you can’t detach and be unbothered. Stop caring, become ‘take it or leave it’. That’s your attitude. You will be fine with it or without it.

~~

Comment:

Three years ago I was getting yelled at a public train station (which we had to take because neither of us had a car) by my dusty disgusting ex. I lived in a cheap apartment with four unsavory roomates and their boyfriends. Now I live in a luxury high rise with a conceirge and valet. All I did today was get a facial, sit by the pool and shop. I don’t have to worry about a SINGLE THING and every man in my life treats me like a queen. I’m truly breaking generational curses; my dad left my mom with four kids alone while she worked at Denny’s waitressing overnight. If it weren’t for Shera’s wisdom I don’t know where I would be today but I just give thanks every day that I saw the light. This is my one and only life so why shouldn’t I be living peacefully and bougie.

It’s crazy how fast life can chance when you realize your worth and act on it. Keep on inching further and further; the more luxurious things you do the more the rest of your life catches up. It literally started with me going to the expensive nail salon instead of the cheap one. Then I felt like I deserved more. I moved into a nicer apartment that was out of my budget at first, then a nicer car, then I started buying designer bags and now I live in an ultra-luxurious place. Small steps and the rest of your life will catch up in time. Of course look your best every day and be healthy. And do not give a second of your time to anyone who does not treat you with respect, remember if they’re not adding to your life they are taking away.

The universe somehow just opened up and rains abundance on me. The more you surround yourself with the vibrations of prosperity the more it will be drawn to you. Ella Ringrose on YouTube helped me a lot to draw in money.

~~

Comment:

Shera ever since I started watching you I have levelled up my life completely. I lost 50 pounds and changed my whole look to be more feminine. My husband was so motivated he started making more money and bought me a home and my dream car. He does everything I want now and he feels proud to bring me home his paycheck. I no longer work and just workout every day and focus on my children. A lot of my family members don’t understand this life but I am very happy and comfortable.

~~

If you give yourself away too easily, your value is low.

~~

10 Important Habits of a Gold Digger

1)high standards
2)high self-esteem
3)perspective
4)purpose
5)options
6)be unapologetic
7)looks
8)business plan
9) knowledge/value of money
10)stay unbothered

~~

‘Busy patterns that aren’t classy make you look older’. You can show how classy your clothing is by the cut, colour and pattern, not the brand or designer.

Look to magazines for style inspiration:

O magazine = for older women
Instyle = more youthful

~~

Comment:
Men need respect, they don’t want your love.

~~

Wealthy men like women who are thin, feminine, and classy, or classy/sexy.

~~

Classic = classy. Dress in a way that you wouldn’t look crazy in a photo in 20 years time.

~~

‘We’re not trying to fit in, we’re trying to stand out.’

~~

Comment:
Looking beautiful, adore your blouse and that classy backdrop. I have earrings very similar. I have to go out now, I’m over 60 and always look stylish heading out the door . Make up and a cute dress today. You never know who is at the coffee shop 😊

~~

Be cute, be feminine, don’t talk so much. Let him do the hard work.

~~

‘You’re not his momma stop acting like it’ video
Women will turn into their man's mother without realizing it! Then he will run.

A lot of times when a woman has been in a relationship for a long time or is married, they start acting like a mother to the man without even realising it. To avoid that, do these things:
· Totally change everything – change how you dress, put more makeup on, wear heels.
· Act ten years younger.
· Don’t be concerned about the things you used to be concerned about.
· Let everything be free and fly.
· If you once worried about dishes in the sink don’t worry about it anymore.
· Change it up.
· If he realises that you stop caring and you just put all that extra energy that you were nagging and trying to organise and keep stuff right or that you were frustrated about – if you took all that extra energy and put it back into yourself – and you stopped worrying about the house and the domestic issues and him doing this, this and that. He’s going to think, ‘Well dang, everything is out of order, now she’s dressing like this and putting on makeup and looking this way, and the dishes aren’t clean anymore, or she’s not nagging me about picking up my clothes and the room is a mess’, then either he’ll get up and do it or he’ll start turning into your father.
· You mirror what they do and they’re gonna start seeing what you are doing by you have to act that way with them.
· You stop cleaning dishes, you start leaving your stuff on the floor.
· You start dressing cute, and say you’re going out.
· You forget to do stuff, or you stop helping out because you don’t want to damage your nails or the Real Housewives is on.
· Start doing the same thing to him – he watches sport, you say, ‘Oh Housewives is on, I wanna watch it. I don’t wanna watch it later.’
· You don’t do any of this like it’s revenge, just like you joined him in not being responsible, or joined him with more relaxed rules.
· He might like it. He might be like ‘you’re so laid back, you look happy today’.
· Then he might start cleaning up more because it’s not an order.
· But as long as you’re happy and not nagging him, he’s going to do it voluntarily.

~~

How you act and how you make him feel will give you more power to get what you want.

· Look good
· Be more feminine
· Speak softly
· Smile
· Laugh at whatever he is saying and make him feel good about who he is
· Let him talk more than you
· Feed his ego
· Act vulnerable and he will want to do things for you, will want to please and impress you

(I added:
· Ladylike, dainty, girlish, delicate, compassionate, considerate, sympathetic, tolerant, warm-hearted, gracious
· Calm, refined and tasteful
· Agreeable, friendly, good-natured,
· Kind, moral, pleasant, delightful)

That’s how you get what you want.

Our power is in our femininity, not in our masculinity, not in being in competition with a man, but making them weak because we are giving them exactly what no-one else does and so they’re not used to it and they yield to it and want more of it and they’re going to do what you want.

Being feminine is the key to getting what you want. There is no magic formula; it’s just ‘being feminine’. Work on that and you will get what you want. Work on your baby voice. Work on asking men for things and help, feeling vulnerable around them and stroking their ego and you can pretty much get what you want, especially if you choose the right target. Don’t go up and choose someone who has a thousand options, go up and choose someone who feels lucky to be with you and who will act accordingly.

~~

Men don’t like jealous women. You look insecure if you show jealousy. If you feel jealous, act like you don’t care – laugh it off.

~~

Men don’t like to be told what to do or have someone running their life. They don’t need you to offer them suggestions – this will just make them feel like a child, emasculated and they will rebel.

~~

Have a hobby and have a life.
Have your own life.
Make yourself number one.

Make sure he likes you more than you like him. If he really likes you he is going to chase you and not let you go, and you don’t even have to do anything to make this happen.

~~

I am not a people pleaser. I live for myself not others. And that’s how you have to be to be unbothered. Be unbothered always and you will live your best life.

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I live in a fantasy world every day. That’s why I can create the world that I want.

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A dream woman is motivation for a man in every way. If you no longer motivate him, you are no longer his dream woman.

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A good actress will melt into her role.

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Instead of waiting and having regret later, make the decision now to do what’s best for you, not what’s best for the outside world and what they think. Do what’s best for you in the long run, not what’s best for you right now in this one moment which will pass. Think ahead. Right now is gone. As soon as you think about it, it’s gone.

~~

To be a dream woman and to be worshipped by the man you are with, you have to stay focused on you. Don’t be about him. A man’s dream woman does not mean she is all over him. She has a life. Keep a healthy distance instead of being extra clingy. That way you stay on his level. Make sure you appeal to his friends (in a classy way) too. He will see that others appreciate you and know that he has the prize.

~~

“Put outfits together in your mind when negative people are talking.”

~~

How to be unbothered?

Comments:

‘Fake it till you make it. That’s what happened with me I started to pretend that it didn’t bother me. Now I’m literally so unbothered and focused on myself.’

‘When you are showing that you’re upset or bothered, you are giving them power to know they affected you. I love everyone but I do not argue. I have trained myself not to get emotional even at my husband or family. Being this way also makes you more respected, it’s part of your charisma.’

‘Being unbothered is a choice.’

~~

Comment:

If you're over 35 the best ways to look young is to drink a gallon of water a day....it's good for wrinkles..and helps your makeup glide on like butter.

Eat less and eat as much green as you can (Kale, Broccoli, Spinach) so you can be as slim as possible so that you feel good in your clothes....

Work out to increase your confidence...

Dress your age....nothing worse than a woman who dresses out of her age range...makes you look like you're trying too hard...

~~

Build confidence by not accepting that you have low self-esteem. Every day improve yourself so your self-esteem gets higher and higher. Don’t wallow in it, don’t accept it. Every day tell yourself what you want:

I look good
I feel good
I’m great

Tell yourself that. Give other people compliments, and they will give you compliments. Before you know it, you’ll have high self-esteem. You have to work on it, it doesn’t come automatically. It took a long time to tear down your self-esteem, and it takes a moment to pull it back up.

Just work on it, keep moving forward. Don’t let anyone put you down again.

~~

How to keep your husband interested

· Less communication
· Less giving of information
· Spend more time apart
· Don’t get so close that he is going to want to back up
· You have to get close then back up, get close then back up again
· Look your best at all times
· Don’t smother people and they won’t try to escape you
· Have a life
· Have things to do
· Have a to-do list that does not require that person

Go out and do things. He will appreciate you more when you get back. He will wonder what you’ve been doing. He will anticipate your return.

Don’t let him conquer you. When men have conquered a woman, they will move on. If he doesn’t feel like he can ever conquer you, he will try harder. Never let him feel like he totally has you.

~~

Masculine people (men or women) tend to run to the rescue of others.

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Shera, on uplevelling your looks and being your best every time you step out the front door: Don’t let life pass you by. Life is short. Life is very short.

Comment on Shera’s video: My mom went through a season where she dressed up and it just made our whole family and home come alive. I remember when my mom walked into the living room all fixed up and my little cousin's eyes just lit up. He said be careful don't touch her lol. He literally went from seeing her as a plain ol’ aunt to a princess. He was so young, but he couldn't fake it; that was his instincts.

~~
· It’s not about looking young, it’s about looking good.
· If you miss an opportunity to be levelling up, you are only cheating yourself.
· Stay ready.
· Every day do something to improve yourself - hair, exercise, mindset, self-esteem
· Enjoy getting ready – be creative
· If you’re wearing makeup, go bold. Men want to see the makeup.
· Men like it when you look your best. When you’re out in public, people are judging a man’s status by the type of wife he has, how she looks. You add status to any man that you are with.
· If you are attractive, you will have a lot of friends inviting you out. They will use you to attract attention because you look good. They are going to gravitate towards you and associate you with success. Your appearance will get you further than almost anything else.

~~

When you’re trying to lure a man in, dress for that man. Men do pay attention to what you look like.

Broke men pay attention to your silhouette. They look at your body because they just want to have sex with you.

Men with money pay attention to what you wear: your clothes, your shoes, your jewellery, your shoes, your hair, everything. Are you appropriate? If he wants to take it to the next level and take you out and get to know you, start a relationship, introduce you to his friends, he isn’t just looking at your body.

~~

The better you look, the more successful he looks.

~~

Men are visual creatures. Everything men do is based on that they see. How they treat you is based on what they see.

If you go without makeup, hair not done, and dressed badly, you won’t get the same treatment even by the people who see you every day. When you look good, the people around you have a little bit more respect for you. They see you looking pulled together and to see you any other way is foreign to them.

When you are levelled up, keep this in mind, don’t backslide. When a man meets you looking good, he wants to see you like that for your entire marriage. He doesn’t want you to let yourself go.

Try hard to keep yourself up during your marriage; how you looked when you met him is how he wants to see you forever more.

Men are very visual creatures, so when they see us looking bad, it upsets them. It literally makes them clench inside a little bit because they are so affected by the visual.

You are like a Christmas tree or a beautiful ornament. It’s a pleasure to look at you and they’ll want to be around you just for that.

People may treat you badly because you didn’t keep up your looks - a man could be speaking to another woman or ignoring you.

~~

“Just act and dress like a feminine lady. You’re making them feel younger by being in their presence. Watch 1950s Hollywood movie stars to watch how those ladies acted.”

Never help a man level up as they will always put you in a maternal role and look at you as a mother figure.

How to change your mindset:
1. Tell yourself that you are no longer allowing people to make you feel bad about something – that’s your choice.
2. Decide that you want to be better, and each day take action towards being better. Your self-esteem will rise from this.
3. Surround yourself with like-minded people so you can influence and help each other.

~~

People who talk less are generally more well respected.

~~

“Look for the positive in every negative comment or situation, and you will find it every time.

Whatever your weakness is, make it your strength, to fuel you to the next level. That’s how you really level up from inside. Face your weakness head on. If someone calls you fat, flaunt it. Say, ‘So what? Yes, I eat, I haven’t seen a rib in many decades, but I’m happy. I got a lovely husband, nice house, nice car.’

Instead of being a victim about it, empower yourself with it. Your flaw can be your power. It can be your power if you take it and embrace it and stop focusing on it as an insecurity. The more you focus on something as an insecurity, the more other people will focus on it because they know it’s your weakness and that’s how you get affected. Whatever your flaw is, turn it into something that can give you more than it can take from you. If people say it’s a flaw, take it and turn it into a power.”

~~

Don’t listen to what people say; what do you think? Opposition creates interest.

~~

· Be extra feminine in the way you dress, speak, act.
· Be charming - smile, don't argue (and then do exactly what you were going to do anyway).
· Ask for help from your man - opening a jar, lifting something, reaching up high, anything - they love it. Do this three times a day. Say things like 'It's too heavy for me'. Doing this makes them feel protective of you.
· When you are offered help, accept it.
· Talk to men in a feminine baby-voice.
· Practice being feminine and flirty every day to men everywhere so that it becomes second nature. Things such as asking a man for assistance at the supermarket and smiling and saying thank you in a feminine voice.
· Use your feminine charm on everyone around you.
· Look your best, put on makeup every day, smell good, be well groomed, have nice nails.
· Speak to him as if he's a person and not a child - don't try to control him. Mothers control their children and men don't want to have sex with their mother.
· Ask for what you want, but do it in a feminine way.
· Act like the prize to be the prize.
· Be unpredictable - men will get bored of you if you are too predictable. If you are unpredictable it is exciting to them plus scares them a little too. They will wonder why you are different.
· Don't talk so much.
· Mirror how he acts to bring him closer. Say your man is a bit distant; my natural inclination is to wonder what is wrong, try and talk to him etc. That is clingy, a better way to behave is mirror that - be busy doing your own things, happy but busy and let him come looking for you when he comes out of his cave.
· Be feminine in everything you do - surround yourself with reminders of your femininity - i.e. a pink phone cover.
· Be the receiver not the giver.
· Let him think up ideas, with your subtle input.
· Hardly ever text or call him at work, unless you need him to pick up something.
· Dress up every day for no reason.
· Smile.
· Always be levelling up.
· Have a plan B.
· Don't tell him your plans for the day or where you have been - be a little mysterious and let him wonder what you've been up to.
· Keep the mystery alive with privacy - closet, bathroom etc.
· Don't do everything together.
· Have hobbies and interests of your own.
· Make him feel like a man by asking his advice, seeking help from him, not trying to tell him what to do etc.
· Keep up with new trends and the latest styles. Try new looks, buy new clothes, look cute.
· Make him feel younger by being fresh, new and exciting.
· Be excited by life and easily impressed.
· Go on vacation, go out to places.
· Do new things and turn him on to new things. Do new things in bed.
· Change your looks - look different, be different.
· Listen to the latest music.
· Keep up with the latest trends in things.
· Be an exciting adventure.
· Be happy go lucky, not a care in the world, everything is fun.
· Head up, chin up, look around, smile.
· Get all excited when you talk about little things.
· Light up when you talk to people.
· Bring a high energy.
· Wear your hair long and straight or smooth-wavy.
· Be seasonal - with your look/outfit, eating, décor.
· Reinvent yourself regularly.
· Play different characters for fun.
· Channel someone else when you go out.
· Be constantly changing and improving.
· Be a lively woman - bubbly, happy, exciting, smiling, lifts their spirits, fun to be around.
· Grab his hand and pull him along like a child.
· Be energetic and breathe life into others.
· Mirror his body language about 10-30 seconds later.
· Try new things, new looks.
· Practice your charm on waiters etc.
· Be a people watcher in different environments depending on the lifestyle you desire.
· Look from the outside in - how do people view you? How attractive are you?
· Transform yourself.
· Be his ultimate fantasy girl.
· Look good, do your makeup every day.
· Speak to your him as if he is a person and not a child.
· ‘Can you help me/lift that/get me a blanket?’ in a baby voice. Get him used to looking after you. ‘This is too heavy for me, I can’t reach it’. Do this three times a day minimum.
· Ask for what you want in a feminine way.
· Use the baby voice.
· Be extra feminine.
· Be charming – smile, don’t argue – agree (but do exactly what you want anyway).
· Ask for help from men.
· When you are offered anything, accept it.
· Talk to men in a feminine nature.
· Practice being feminine and flirty every do so that it becomes second nature to you – it will become easier with practice.
· Ask questions and smile.
· Play a bit dumb (not stupid; request their knowledge).
· Use your feminine charm on everyone around you – practice on any man to get better.
· Never get too comfortable (don’t let yourself go).
· Keep the illusion going – makeup, hair, lotion, fragrance.
· Look like you did when you first met (me: 66-67kg, long blonde hair, stylish clothes).
· Men are visual creatures and your hair is foremost – long, silky and straight.
· Have your makeup on, look cute.
· Shera’s husband treated her differently when she gained weight and then lost weight.
· Shera’s advice to a lady who gained 40 pounds and now her husband isn’t attracted to her: ‘Lose 40 pounds’.
· Still look sexy even if you’ve been together a while.
· Exfoliate your face and body.
· Have glowing, moisturised skin.
· Use highlighter on your face.
· Wear perfume, body lotion, nicely scented products.
· Wear red lipstick, eye makeup.
· Wear light, modern perfumes.
· Have simple, nice nails.
· Tell him that whatever you want is your ‘ultimate fantasy’.

~~

If you want to be married to a rich man, dress like a rich man’s wife.

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Be unbothered

It’s so amazing to just not care. You have no idea how much better your life gets when you stop caring. When you stop caring about stuff that’s not beneficial to you, everything blossoms, everything. Because your attention is no longer on anything negative, it’s all on you, and so you blossom.

How to keep your man chasing you? Be busy, don’t call him all the time. Have a hobby or a business and let him have to go looking for you.

~~

Did you ever feel insecure about your weight?

“No.

At any weight my mental game was tight, it was good. I could get anything I wanted, so it never really held me back. The only thing that would ever make me feel insecure about anything is… I really don’t have a lot of insecurities anymore. I had the normal insecurities of a child. But when I grew up and I understood that you could take your power from any situation, you no longer have insecurities.

If I was insecure about my weight, I wouldn’t be up here on YouTube, and if someone says something about how I look, I don’t care. I say Okay yeah and so what? I’m eating good, I’m living good. It doesn’t bother me, because that’s not what defines me. I’m gonna get paid skinny or fat. I’m gonna be happy at whatever makes me feel happiest. So it’s all about how you feel about yourself and how you value yourself. You don’t base your self-worth on what other people think about you.

And the reason why I teach people you gotta look good if you want to turn heads and make men cross the room is because if you are trying to get a date, yes, you have to be concerned with what other people find attractive. But that should not ever play a role in your own personal self-esteem.

Whatever you need to feel good at the time, tomorrow or today, that’s what you need to be doing.”

~~