I know this is a very unlikely crossover as the persona series isn’t horror but I feel like as though some characters would fit quite well as survivors
SURVIVOR:JOKEREN AMAMIYA
PERKS:
BATON PASS Your teammates benefit from each other’s strengths When you stun or blind the killer by any means, generator repair speed and heal spread is increased by 5% for 10/15/20 seconds
CALLING CARD Keep the enemy on edge by warning them of their impending failure When unhooking a survivor, you leave a calling card on the hook. The next time the killer tries to place a survivor on the hook, they will be stunned for 3 seconds and the survivor will gain 3% haste for 3/5/7 seconds
GRAPPLE HOOK You have acquired many tools to aid you in your exploration of the metaverse Once you have escaped chase 3/2/1 time(s) you can enter a locker and press the action button to craft a grapple hook. The grapple hook allows you to quick scale tall ledges. Breaks after 2 uses
REALM: TARTARUS/THE DARK HOUR I’m aware that this doesn’t fit jokers character but this works better than mementos
The map would be the garden of the secular. An Easter egg on the map would be that shadows would occasionally spawn near you before quickly running away
SKINS
Ryuji sakamato-the doctor Morgana-Chucky Yu-joker Makoto yuki-joker Futaba-the singularity Black mask akechi-ghost face Yukari-Meg thomas

I must say that Craft is quite pleasant for me, as it is a joyful process.
However, the latest big update has brought some issues for me. I am wondering if it has a better design. Does anyone else have the same problem as me?
Calendar Note
In the previous version, we can see a fully expanded calendar in the navigation rail, I can jump to any date that I want to. for now, I need: 1. tap calendar 2. find the very not obviously date switch component 3. click it 4. choose a date
Hornesly I am not quite sure it is a better user flow to navigate to a date. I usually use quick notes to write the minutes and leave them on the date. Now I need to make more effort to find it.
All doc and & Home
When I create new documents, I can't find them in my home tab. I always wonder if I really created a new document or not, and where to find it. I can find the document in "All Docs" but not in the recent tab on the home screen. This is really frustrating for me.
Focus Mode
I don't understand why the designer hid the focus mode in a dropdown option. If it's not important anymore, please just remove it. But I do like it.
I'm a product designer and I was confused when the focus mode was hidden for the first time. I don't think new users and most people will know how to find it. Now it looks like an easter egg.
Select a block or just text
Craft has a unique behavior. When the user clicks on a sentence, it doesn't enter a text editing status; instead, it selects the block. This behavior is unexpected almost every time and I still can't get used to it. This behavior forces me to click twice to edit text, which is a little annoying.
AI is dump and limited
Craft is designed for writing a document, particularly a long article. However, the functionality of the Craft assistant appears to be very limited. Every time I ask it to summarize or rewrite something, it only provides a partial sentence and then stops. As a result, I have stopped using it altogether.
After All...
I won't stop using Craft until there's something much better, but there are rumors that the Apple Note app will have a big update and redesign, including an AI assistant. I believe it will be much more useful than the Craft assistant. At that point, Craft might just become a blogging app for me, and I won't take notes in Craft anymore. I really hope it can improve.

I finished another Radiant Dawn run on the hardest difficulty and felt the bug to talk about tier listing again. Thanks for indulging me. My list:
https://i.imgur.com/8d4aPNg.png
Some commentary, from worst to best.
F Tier:
Lyre - This character has literally nothing going for her. Lyre has terrible bases, the worst class in the game, bad growths, and no endgame potential beyond being a mediocre filler unit. I can't imagine a worse character in Fire Emblem. Maybe Sophia. Even if you wanted to do an all-Laguz run, she can't crack the top 10. She isn't even force deployed on any maps. I cannot think of a single positive thing to say about Lyre.
Fiona - With even worse bases than Lyre and a baffling availability schedule, Fiona should be the worst unit in the game, but at least her class is solid. Female Silver Knight has bad caps overall, but good weapon types, speed, and a top-tier mastery talent. If you can endure the grind, you can make a unit with real contributions in the endgame. I feel like the game designers hate this unit, though; they make her arrive in a map themed around rescuing, but don't even let you recruit her to do any rescuing. The very next map is indoors. After that, we go to a swamp which is once again themed around rescuing, but Fiona isn't even available! After that? Another indoor map! Then another swamp! Then more cliffs! 3-13 is considered an indoor map and penalizes horse units! Literally the first map with wide open spaces to take advantage of cavalry classes that allows you to deploy Fiona is in Part 4. Her class level and bases are even bugged (allegedly). I can't believe how this game is engineered to ruin Fiona, and it's a miracle that she isn't the worst unit in the entire game.
Kyza - While he can be crafted into a tolerable lategame unit (better than many on this list who rank higher), there just isn't any reason to do so. He's got a terrible class (only cat laguz are worse), bad bases, and joins in a big pile of units that are a hundred times better at everything he can do. Need a tank? You've already got Brom and Gatrie on the team, and they don't untransform halfway through enemy phase. Kyza has the crown for most forgettable, pointless unit, but at least if you do train him for the experience, you get a unit that can kind of do something late game.
Makalov - Easily the worst of all cav units, any chance Makalov has to be good late game is betrayed by his poor class caps. He nearly escaped F tier by having a few useful turns in Part 2, but after some consideration, I honestly think he's more of a liability than helpful. The only units he can reliably hurt in Geoffrey's Charge are the ones that give you bexp if you spare them. I don't even like putting out fires with him; let the yellow units do it, so they don't run off and get themselves killed. Makalov is just a trainwreck of a character. At least he gets Sol.
Pelleas - As a secret character with a completely unique weapon type, you'd think unlocking him gets you access to some outstanding lategame growth unit with a big payoff for all your hard work. Nope. You get the worst mage in the game instead. While I give him a glimmer of usefulness for the potential to learn staves, you have to invest heavily in him to get there and it's just pointless when even Tormod can do the same thing for cheaper. I can't imagine a run where I'm relying on Pelleas as my 12th string healer for the tower. If you haven't really looked into the numbers, and you decide one day "I'm doing a Pelleas run!" you're going to find his bases shocking. What were they thinking here?
D Tier:
Sephiran - Kind of an easter egg at the end of the game, I considered not rating him at all (like the Burger King), but eh, he contributes something against Ashera I guess. Can't say much more here. Maybe, in an ironman, if you've lost all your non-Micaiah staffbots, you'll be glad when he joins? For barely squeezing out a microniche he escapes F tier.
Sanaki - Maybe I'm underrating her, but I just don't see the point. She needs heavy investment (particularly in seraph robes) to be able to survive the bosses of the tower. When she joins, she's just another subpar mage who doesn't even have the decency to learn staves. Her one saving grace is that she doesn't count against your 10 tower selections, so if you slap a paragon on her and get her battle ready, she can bless Meteor or something and make some contributions. The resources (including combat xp) you pour into her are better used on your real tower units.
Astrid - I considered dumping her in F tier. What the heck happened to the star paragon unit of Path of Radiance? Somehow, she's turned into a turd of a growth unit with atrocious bases, mediocre growths, and wacky availability. I only pulled her out of the gutter because of her class, and even with really awful strength and defense caps, she can turn into a solid tower unit. I've used her before and found she was legitimately not a waste of space as early as 4-1, where she was popping falco knights. I could see her be a good bird sniper in the Izuka map. Still, like all bad growth units, she's just not worth the effort.
Kurthnaga - While he can be fun to train, again, why? He provides the least useful of all dragon auras and just takes XP from your many units who still need it. Maybe make a Kurth juggernaut once for the experience, and then never again. If he joined at the start of Part 4, I can imagine him getting boosted a couple tiers, but nah, you can't be picking up new projects this late in the game.
Meg - Often times called the worst unit in the game, she is...somewhat underrated... as a midgame tank. A project unit for sure, and not worth it, but Meg does grow into a strong unit around 1-E and for all of Part 3. She can solo Ragnell Ike and the field of laguz in 3-13 pretty easily. You've got better options for that, but I do recommend experiencing a Meg run once just to see that it can be done. Ultimately, though, Meg can't escape D tier because her awful class caps betray her in the end, and her best attribute (speed) gets cut off at the knees.
Vika - The Tormod Squad all suffer from the availability curse, but Vika has it worst, since she desperately needs training to be viable at all. As if laguz weren't bad enough already, they can't take Discipline or upgrade weapons by any means other than the long, dark strike rank grind, and Vika has no time at all to do it. That leaves only her joining maps to recommend her, and she can do things like poke-canto or rescue villagers in the swamp, so that's something. If you force yourself to train her, she does gain incredible speed, but hitting twice for 0 isn't impressive. Her class also has cat-like gauge drain, and she can't gain any experience in part 1 due to bizarre laguz xp math, leaving Vika no angles to improve.
Stefan - Thrown in at the end like an afterthought, Stefan is (I would argue) the worst of all the Tower Gotohs, that is, the units that just join at the very end to make sure you have high level units for the tower. With bad luck and a fairly bad class, the only reason I can recommend bringing Stefan is if you want an Alondite unit and you don't like Renning for some reason. He just doesn't serve any purpose. He even joins in a map that locks down his movement. Take his sword and bench him.
Ena/Gareth - I put them together because they fill the same role: buffing your units to fight Ashera. While Gareth is legendary for getting wrecked by magic, Ena is arguably worse, as Ashera's physical attack can kill her too. While that's not nothing, I can't justify taking someone out of D tier when their entire purpose is to help a faster clear in one map, and you don't even really need them.
C tier:
Tauroneo - I had a hard time rating Big T. He pops in to dominate just a couple of chapters before disappearing until part 4. He's the worst Marshall, but gets boosted a tier over Meg because of his efforts in part 1. Marshall is a pretty bad class, but if you want one anyway, you've got two much better options that have tons of availability, so don't bother.
Heather - In a game that doesn't care much about thiefy stuff, Heather just doesn't have a key role to fill. She gets you a couple of stat boosters, which you can promptly feed to your units that cap everything anyway. I'll give her a leg up out of the worst tiers because she can rescue you in Oliver's Mansion if you ran out of chest keys, and the Fortify Staff is really, really good.
Muarim - Unlike Vika, he dominates his few part 1 maps, and he's still viable in Part 4 with his bases. Not bad! Unfortunately, with so little time to train him, you really have to invest heavily to get him tower-ready, and why bother? He's got an awful class and competes with much better units. I suppose he gets a slot in an all-laguz run.
Tormod - He kills that obnoxious wyvern rider on the swamp map. I give him a whole tier for that, because man, that thing is annoying. Beyond that, he's helpful for several part 1 maps, and he can be trained up to use staves for the tower.
Leonardo - The worst member of a great class, Leonardo will absolutely wreck with Double Bow, but the road to get there is harrowing. Only his prf bow's speed boost gets him out of D tier. Maybe even F. He's just such a liability for so long that I can't recommend him.
Ilyana - Strange that in a game where availability is so restricted, the number one most available character is so bad! She was great in PoR, too, but thunder magic has been substantially nerfed. I give her a lot of credit for her join map, which is arguably the hardest map in the game, and if you really work hard to level her, she gets staves with an excellent magic score. As with most units this far down, though, she's just outclassed by all the better options who do the same thing, and you don't need that many backup staff units.
Ranulf - Force deployed for what feels like a dozen chapters, Ranulf mostly hangs around to shove people and occasionally do some damage. He's got the worst class in the game, but unlike Lyre, has great bases that give him a nice little midgame role and then not much else. If you manage to feed him experience in Part 4, he's somewhat endgame viable, as long as you don't have much competition for the laguz gem.
Nealuchi - Like Ranulf, the old bird has a bright spot in the middle of the game where he's got some utility, but is best ditched when his time is up. I find him essential for 2-P and 2-1, a good contributor for 2-E, and then...well, that's a C tier unit.
Kieran - Bummer that he's so reduced here versus PoR, but at least his class gets better caps than most cavs, and he's viable as Geoffrey's sidekick for those odd chapters in Part 2/3. I can't hate him. He's easy to train and turns into a viable, if underwhelming, tower unit, but joining Ike's crew so late in Part 3 hurts him, as he is immediately outclassed by like two dozen people that you've been training for ages.
Lucia - She gets a big boost for being essential for 2-1 and viable in Part 4. If I was going to train a bad trueblade, I'm picking her over Stefan at least, but her lack of availability and bad class push her to the middle tiers.
Renning - An unfairly hated tower gotoh, Renning is your best freebie Alondite user, and has tolerable enough bases to hang out and contribute with your actual good units. He's just mediocre compared to anyone you've actually built up yourself, and he's clearly worse than Giffca and the royals. Many people do their ironmans with all royals banned for the challenge, and if that's you, Renning suddenly becomes a valuable backup unit that I would maybe bump another tier. As-is, he's just mid.
Volke - Ditto what I said for Renning, except he uses the Baselard instead, doubles auras without help, and can instakill people. I usually take Stillness off and give it to Micaiah, though, so his durability is a problem. Volke is like a super-trueblade and worth considering if you are low on viable tower units.
Giffca/Mufasa - The lion king and his shadow are virtually the same unit, except that Giffca has to use a laguz gem to transform for some reason (Guess he was borrowing his boss's formshift scroll last game?). I usually refuse to use them on principle, but I can't count that against them. They absolutely wreck the Tower but serve no other purpose. As the best of the Tower Gotohs, I can't justify higher than C.
Nasir - The best of the dragon auras, Nasir enables some aura one-rounding strategies that make a big difference. Still, we're talking about one dang map. When I made this I struggled with whether or not he should be down with Gareth and Ena, but I'm giving him a lot of credit for his special aura and his invincibility versus magic.
Sigrun/Tanith - The lesser two of the three Seraph Knights, they have one of the best classes in the game, but mediocre bases and growths. There's only one Wishblade, unfortunately, and while Seraph Knight is the best class to use it, that just means there's no reason to bring multiple of them unless you want to goof off with triangle attack. If Marcia turned out poor or you didn't use her, I recommend grabbing Sigrun (higher base level) for the Wishblade and training her up in Part 4. If you aren't training these units, they still get credit for flying utility in the desert.
Ulki/Janaff - Can't decide which of the twins are better here. With insane bases and no xp gain at all, these guys show up in part 3 to help shove people and generally help out when someone is in trouble. While they stay viable to the end (to the delight of the zero percent growth community), I don't get too excited by their lategame contributions. The laguz gauge is their Achilles Heel in part 3; I just can't justify relying on them.
Bastian/Oliver - My hottest take of this tier list, I have argued for a long time that Oliver is underrated as your Renault/Yoder character; that is, your staffbot gotoh who fills in to rescue ironmans. Bastian serves the same role, but slightly better. If your Micaiah is bad or untrained and you haven't leveled any of the project mages, these guys are your strongest staff users.
Devdan - Just as forgettable here as in Path of Radiance, Devdan suffers from bad bases and availability, and as the worst member of a meh class, there's just no reason to invest in him. I give him a lot of credit for major contributions in two key chapters without being a liability, and if you do train him, his superior caps make him arguably better than Kieran in lategame. Oh, and in part 3, he can climb that one ledge to keep it open. That's...something.
Calill - Helping out on a couple more midgame maps than Devdan, Calill is never good, but she can chip a bit here or there and usually isn't a liability. Anyone who can do anything in Elincia's Gambit gets a push in my book. If you do wind up making good use of her and slap on a crown, she's another backup staff unit with okay stats.
Lethe/Murderkaiser - The cat and tiger duo once again shows up midgame with good stats, bad growths, and a spot waiting for them on the bench. I find that they make a great contribution in part 2, remain viable in part 3, and...well, they exist in part 4 I guess. Mordecai can be built into a viable tank thanks to having vastly more time to grow compared to Muarim, and better everything compared to Kyza. Lethe has dramatically better strength than her idiot sister. Too bad the bad classes keep them out of the good tiers.
B tier:
Edward - We're getting out of the riffraff and into some viable units. While Edward is one of the weaker Dawn Brigade growth options, he is super helpful in numerous key early chapters where you desperately need it, and he can grow into a complete powerhouse. Just watch his growths as he naturally levels throughout part 1, and if he fails to pop off, bench him. If he crushes those strength and defense growths, though, he's an excellent choice for a Part 3 carry, as he's on the shortlist of units who can solo 3-13 - not the best one, but much easier to level than Meg, for example. His luck sword is I guess the worst of the DB prf weapons, but it's still decent for a long time, before you toss it for Alondite. If he didn't fall off in late part 1, he'd be A tier. Also, he's got a bad class and competes with at least one or two better units for that precious Alondite.
Soren - With magic nerfed in this game, Soren has no chance of breaking into the highest tiers, but he sure tries. I'd argue he is the best mage in the game. He's not too difficult to train, hits high magic numbers, and turns into the game's best staffbot (arguably) by endgame. While I'd rather bring a free Bastian than a high effort Soren to the tower, Ike's BFF gets a big boost from his super high availability. I never feel like he's a drag on the party.
Rhys - Like Soren, but you don't need to wait for staves, alright, Rhys probably snatches the prize of lategame staffbot from Soren, but not by much. He's hurt by awful physicals, which can make him seem like a liability, but your list of part 3 staff units is sparse, so he's going to contribute a lot every run, no matter what you have planned for him.
Mist - She's much weaker than Rhys in every way, but when she promotes, she gets Canto, which is wonderful for a frail unit. While Florete is bugged (or sucks by design, depending on who you ask) and there is no Sonic Sword, Mist is still viable as a mobile healer who won't let you down through the entire game. I know I keep saying different people are the "best lategame staffbot" but I swear this is the last one, it's really Mist.
Zihark/Volug - I paired them for nearly identical availability and the legendary earth/earth affinity, which gives them a niche in certain difficult part 3 maps where their contributions are invaluable. Neither character scales well into endgame (there are better options for trueblade) and they aren't invincible like Big T, but at least they show up for work. Use them as Jeigans in part 1 and tanks in part 3, then say goodbye.
Micaiah - Often called the worst lord in the game, she...probably deserves it. Oh no, I'm about to call her the actual best staffbot, aren't I? No, she's difficult to raise up due to being such a frail liability all game and having forced promotions. She gets big credit for a couple key Thani nukes early game, and she's a force deployed physics bot from 3-13 onward. Have I overrated her? Maybe, but I like healers.
Geoffrey - With a couple chapters designed to make him look good, Geoffrey is essential to clear the game, but his class caps keep him from getting into the elite levels. I find that he levels quickly in part 4 (without paragon, even) and holds his own. I really wish he joined with Kieran and the others. By endgame, he's a viable filler unit.
Nolan - A godsend in the early chapters, the Dawn Brigade would have died in the cradle without Nolan. He gets an amazing prf weapon and is easily viable as a part 3 carry, but I find him inadequate to solo 3-13 or reliably fight Ike. His strength and defense growth is just too poor, and he lacks the avoid to make up for it. Still, he has the best beorc class caps in the game, and after being reliable and useful for so long, you can reward him with careful bexp abuse to make sure he can slam the tower bosses with 62 attack power. There's something satisfying about seeing a human inflict lion-like damage to gods.
Laura - I always see her at the bottom of tier lists, but your only healer in part 1 (Micaiah doesn't count) deserves some love. She's a huge liability on the field, but think about how much harder Part 1 gets if she dies. She stays viable in part 3 (I usually savior backpack her with somebody) and is, yes, another top tier lategame staffbot. For being an essential unit for so long, and for having endgame potential, I can't see lower than B tier.
Simba - The lion prince needs paragon and some effort to get rolling, but boy does he! As an acceptable alternative to those cheating royal laguz, Skrimir is just an unstoppable powerhouse who can solo entire maps in part 4 if you let him. Until the white dragons show up, Skrimir is never in danger from anything other than his own stupid laguz gauge, which is why he's not in A tier. If you haven't tried slapping paragon and adept on Skrimir and letting him eat all of 4-P, try it once, it's hilarious.
Royal Trio - I put Nailah ahead of the bird brains for her availability, but they all have the same role: hold your hand through part 4. Tibarn can actually die to the crossbow guy in 4-2, which makes me laugh, and Naesala is downright mortal by comparison. I like to leave Pass on Nailah from part 1 and give her chest keys for Oliver's Mansion. All of these units are insanely strong and help trivialize the tower, which is why I don't bring them.
Singing Siblings - I know, putting Rafiel lower on the list than the others is blasphemy, but he's barely around through the whole game. He's widely accepted as the best tower bird (though I prefer Reyson), but other than Oliver's Mansion, what hard missions does he help out on? Rafiels' role is to help fight dragons and gods, which is a pretty good resume, so he's up this high. Leanne wins my heart for Elincia's Gambit alone, but she also helps make the bridge and desert maps more tolerable.
Marcia - A hot take here, but Marcia has a lot of availability and a positive, if underwhelming, contribution through most of it. By lategame, she turns into an excellent flier (Seraph Knights are truly amazing) and is, in my opinion, the single best Wishblade candidate in the entire game. Marcia never crushes this game like she does Path of Radiance, but I'm here for her.
Boyd - Notoriously tough to get rolling, Boyd has those insane Reaver caps and a lot of time to reach them. While he's just a project unit in part 3, he does crest that hill eventually and turn into a complete wrecking ball who trivializes the rest of the game. He easily hits 40 strength and isn't that tough to train up to 35 speed with bexp. He's the game's best Urvan user (as his caps are easier to hit than Nolan) and I only don't put him higher because it's a bit of a struggle to get him going.
A tier:
Rolf - People are going to lose their minds over this one. I'm always astonished how many people don't know that Rolf has 75% strength growth! Snipers are easy to level and have a great payoff, meaning that even if Shinon wins your double bow, you'll never regret bringing a second killer deadeye through the whole game. Imagine if Leonardo had Rolf's growths. Little bro is like Dmitri, but in the Wii era. Don't sleep on Rolf. He's amazing.
Nephenee - Sometimes overrated, sometimes underrated, Nephenee has top notch availability and is an essential unit for several chapters, and while she can get lost in the Greil Mercs spam, she quickly turns into a stellar well-rounded infantry unit who can carry the game. She's never bad and turns into another excellent Wishblade user, who I only put below Marcia for the tower due to lack of flying/canto. Due to high availability and never needing particular training attention, though, Nephenee skirts into the top tiers.
Mia - Unlike Path of Radiance, Mia starts viable and quickly takes off like a rocket, turning into your best Trueblade. Lacking only one strength in her final caps versus Edward, she's easier to level and, imo, your best overall Alondite unit. Because she is around so long and always helpful, she gets a bump.
Brom/Gatrie - Brom almost gets the nod for being an essential unit for so Part 2, but his falloff is noticeable, and his endgame potential as a Marshall is worse than, say, Nephenee. Gatrie picks up that slack and remains as one of your best Greil Mercs for the rest of the game. I could see someone valuing Brom's early contributions more and swapping this order. Both units suffer from the usual Marshall problems: bad caps, bad movement, competing with far better units for the best items.
Titania - The stalwart ride-or-die arch-paladin of Tellius, Titania doesn't carry hard like she does in the previous game, but she's immediately dominant and stays that way virtually forever. She has reasonable class caps (compared to other cavs, anyway) and is fine to bring to the tower, but you will notice a dropoff. Regardless of tower viability, she's so damn strong for so long that I can't rank her any lower.
Oscar - While he starts weak and is imprisoned by truly awful tier 2 caps, Oscar is still solid and provides that lovely earth affinity through a ton of chapters. Once he breaks into tier 3, he's immediately one of your best units, and stays that way for a long time. I almost rated Titania higher, but I think Oscar surpasses her and is a candidate for an early crown. If not for those tier 2 caps, he'd be S tier.
Shinon - Embarrassed by the "9 strength incident" in Path of Radiance, Shinon hit the gym and turned into a powerhouse from the moment he joins until the end of the game. He's never not great, and he only gets better as he gets his outstanding third tier caps and SS rank weapon. While he usually needs bexp to hit str and def caps, that's more a function of the highish caps than any weaknesses in growths. Shinon is almost breaking into S tier. If he was a flying archer, he'd be the next Haar.
Aran - The wrongest opinion in all of Fire Emblem is that Aran is bad. Just wrong, wrong, wrong. Aran starts as a weak unit among numerous other weak units, is easily trainable, and quickly pops off - 75% strength growth, again! - to turn into a juggernaut that surpasses everyone except the royals. By Part 3, Aran has made the rest of the Dawn Brigade redundant, and by 3-13, he's a walking god. I always laugh when I hear commentators talk about how difficult part 3 is, then minutes later, mention how bad Aran is. Well, of course it's hard if you don't use the best unit! I only keep Aran out of S tier because of DB availability and because his class caps keep him from stomping as hard in the tower, where he rarely doubles.
S tier:
Jill - Flying utility gives her the bump into the upper echelons. Slightly harder to train than Aran, she benefits immensely from the str and def items (which are useless to Aran, who caps immediately) and turns into another juggernaut. While she stays weaker than Aran throughout most of the game, the mobility is a factor, and she grows into one of your best endgame units. If you had to average the two games together, Jill is probably the best character in Tellius. Or Titania, it's hard to say, but it's definitely a canto redhead.
Sothe - Play this game: a trickster god deletes one character from your rom, permanently. Seize squares and game over conditions get reassigned, but you now have to play the rest of the game without that unit, forever. What's the absolute worst unit to lose? I cannot think of a worse unit to lose than Sothe. Is the Dawn Brigade even possible without him? I'm sure someone has done it. After making the game playable, Sothe falls off hard, but he can be trained into a sub-par Volke if you want. I contend that Tellius literally could not be saved without him. So why isn't he the absolute top tier? Well, I guess I'm weighing the rest of the game higher, but I'm not 100% convinced that's right.
Elincia - What a glow-up from PoR! The devs nerf her in 2-P to keep it difficult, but as soon as she gets her weapon, she turns into a flying healer who also wrecks things. I think she's a lock for the tower, even if you are dedicating six tower slots to royals and lions. While a weaker staffbot than some others I mentioned, she's good enough. And she flies! Elincia is just awesome.
Reyson - Speedrunners and LTCers prefer Rafiel for a better Turn 1 against Ashera, but I like Reyson's high movement and canto, and you have laguz gems by that point. As for the rest of the game, Reyson has by far the best availability of all herons - which isn't saying much, I know. I just wish this game wasn't so weird with dancers.
Ike vs Haar for the championship - People have debated between Ike and Haar since the game came out. I put Ike 2nd because, while he carries harder with Ragnell, he's still a normal (albeit stronk) infantry swordlocked unit for a long time before then. Haar saves your bacon in Part 2 (twice) and then carries Part 3 just for fun afterwards. He also has the best boss convos in 2-P and 4-E-2. Ike gets the boss convo award in 4-P, so this most critical of category tips the scales toward Haar. The real answer is availability + domination = top of the top tier. As if Haar wasn't stupid OP enough, he gets the best beorc defense cap in the entire game, because why not? He even beats out the Marshalls on Strength! And his mastery skill is better! Honestly, what were they thinking here? While Ragnell Ike is the strongest unit in the game, Totality Ike is only the second strongest.

Spiritual Psychosis vs Spiritual Awakening (Long Post, tl;dr included in post)

First and foremost:

Speak to a professional if you are experiencing thoughts of self-harm or harm to others. Speak to someone who will help you stay grounded in reality or try the grounding techniques I will mention below.

I've seen quite a few posts here that sound a little like some people might be experiencing spiritual psychosis (I am NOT trying to diagnose anyone, I'm just noticing a few symptoms).
When I first heard about spiritual psychosis, it made me take a step back and think about my own spiritual journey.
A little about me:
I went through several life events this past year that were absolutely bonkers. If I wrote everything here, I doubt that anyone would believe me.
The final event, having to break up with someone I loved deeply, coincided with my spiritual awakening as I experienced what I feel is a closer connection with God.
As I navigated my beliefs, I felt as if I was seeing the world, my faith, and love from a completely different perspective.
A rebirth, I guess?

• Here's a little background about me for some context, you can skip this if you want:
  • My parents were not very religious, we never really went to church except on occasions such as Easter or my mom’s birthday or a wedding or funeral. However, my mother was raised Catholic and my father is Christian, so there is some background in the Abrahamic religions for me.
  • I always loved reading and I read everything, including the Bible, which I am currently reading right now (For the second time, it took me a year to finish it the first time, but I digress). I loved the stories within it, the ancient lives and perspectives of ancient people were so fascinating to me.
    • Now I see it as a guidebook although I don’t agree with everything in there. Due to this, I am hesitant to call myself a Christian or subscribe to any other specific religion.
  • Right now I label myself a gnostic theist who believes in God 100% and Jesus’ teachings, I don't believe in Hell or demons, and more. I am most familiar with Christianity so that is where I feel most comfortable.

I wanted to include this little bit of context because my beliefs were years in the making, and still are. It is imperative that you try to dive deeper in why you believe the things that you do, which will help strengthen your faith and mind as well as get to know who you really are.
Beliefs are intrinsic, you feel it deep in your heart, but social factors also come into play. That doesn't mean your beliefs can never change, they will evolve, especially if you're presented with information that changes your perspective.
Just like with everything, you have to put in the work. That doesn't mean you have to become a theologian, just take time to dig deeper.

So, what is spiritual psychosis and how is it different from a spiritual awakening?

The difference between spiritual psychosis and experiencing a spiritual awakening is that one is coming from a positive place while still keeping you grounded in reality while the other is coming from fear and is not grounded in reality.
Spiritual psychosis (also known as mystical psychosis) is characterized by these symptoms (along with many others):

• Extreme paranoia
• Destructive tendencies
• Rapid and unusual speech, thoughts, and ideas
• Possible auditory and/or visual hallucinations
• Using your faith to justify violence
• Superiority complex or feel victimized by everything and everyone

If you are always fearful or in a constant state of anxiety, you may be experiencing spiritual psychosis. Religion, beliefs, spirituality, whatever you may call it, is something that will bring peace to you and the people around you.
You should be looking to gain more wisdom and looking to become more compassionate as you grow spiritually. This includes being more in tune with your emotions and your human nature.
Your beliefs should not consume you and lead you to isolation and abandoning the people around you, including yourself. Especially yourself.

Spiritual psychosis can also be drug-induced.

Recreational marijuana and alcohol intake are two things very popular and very common things, especially with young people, that can cause psychosis in general if used in excess.
This is very dependent on genetics as well however, over-use and abuse can place you at a higher risk of psychosis. (Also search up derealization due to excess marijuana intake.)
Marijuana specifically is not inherently bad, but it should be used with EXTREME caution and only around people you trust. Ask a doctor before you try it, especially if you are genetically predisposed to mental illnesses such as schizophrenia.
I have used it for my anxiety and depression and it has been helpful for my journey, but everyone is different. I know everyone is very blasé about it, but it is still a MIND ALTERING SUBSTANCE and should be treated with the same caution as any other drug (even though it is not as dangerous as hard drugs like heroin and cocaine).

How can I avoid or manage spiritual psychosis?

• Speaking to someone who will help ground you to reality.
  • A professional is extremely important, but if you cannot afford one right now speak to a good influence in your life, someone you absolutely trust to have your best interests at heart.
• Nature
  • Making time to be in nature, even for a few minutes can be very helpful. Buy a plant to nurture and keep around you. I’ve bought several from Home Depot that cost me a total of $7. I even gave them names. Here is a picture of them below).
• Meditation
  • Take a moment or two to meditate and reflect. I like to sit for a few minutes somewhere quiet and listen to ocean or water sounds while I slow sip a cup of water. Sometimes I do this for up to an hour, but a few minutes is also fine.
• Journaling
  • This helps with my emotional stability and reflecting on a situation, while also planning my next steps and tracking my progress.
  • I have two journals, a physical journal and the Dailyo App. I love writing things down in a physical, tangible place but Dailyo gives weekly and monthly emotional reports so I can gauge where I’m at on a 1-10 point scale. (This is not an ad, I just really love the Daylio App).
• Create something and move your body
  • Create art, a story, food or a meal, something. I find exercising my creativity very healing.
  • You can also create a version of yourself that you’ve always wanted to be. That can be through exercise, through reaching a goal, through activism. As long as you’re not hurting anyone or yourself, keep working towards that goal, keep pushing, keep going.
• Find community
  • Find people who you can connect with. It's hard but its worth it. Enjoy solitude if you like it (I know I LOVE my solitude) however, no one can truly move through this world alone.
  • Libraries have free events such as book clubs, craft clubs, etc. Or find a church that you really enjoy, or join a community club such as a gardening club or running club.

Conclusion

In the end, this--our society and all its rules-- is all temporary and constructed by us as a way to give order to the chaos that is being alive.
We are struggling, especially during a time like this. If you’re struggling or experiencing psychosis, and your situation is horrible right now, please do not give up.
Change is coming, but it has to start from within.
And that can be as simple as a new perspective on life; a new perspective on the world as a collective.
So many of us are experiencing something spiritual which means that we are constantly looking for connection and meaning.
The inevitability of death should be the reason why we all help each other make this world a better place, no matter what your beliefs are.
A simple yet complicated concept to implement, but I have hope in humanity.
tl;dr
First and foremost: speak to someone, speak to a professional, speak to someone you trust to have your best interests at heart.
The difference between spiritual psychosis and experiencing a spiritual awakening is that one is coming from a positive place while still keeping you grounded in reality while the other is coming from fear and is not grounded in reality.
Find resources that will help guide you and ground you to reality. Find people who went though or are going through the same things. YouTube, Google, etc. always check your sources to make sure they're credible, be discerning.
Everyone's situation is different and people are going through a lot, including you, so try to find peace where you can.
Resources:
Differentiating Spiritual and Psychotic Experiences: Sometimes a Cigar Is Just a Cigar by Bruce Greyson, M.D.
Psychosis or Spiritual Awakening: Phil Borges at TEDxUMKC

Spoilers ahead…
Dear Karthik Subbaraj,
Congratulations on yet another interesting movie, and for resisting the impulse to name this one, too, after a food item. Iraivi is an unusual feminist film, in the sense that it’s seen entirely through the prism of sympathetic male characters. Your men aren’t monsters who drink or cheat on their wives or subject them to torture. They do these things, yes, but… differently. Arul (SJ Surya) drinks, but only to drown out his sense of failure – he’s a director and his film is in the cans, being held hostage by a sadistic producer. Michael (Vijay Sethupathi) has sex with Malarvizhi (Pooja Devariya), and he continues to lust after her after his marriage to Ponni (Anjali) – I love that all your women have names that suggest classical heroines, including Arul’s wife Yazhini (Kamalini Mukherjee) – but it’s a marriage he committed to in a hurry and he still hasn’t reconciled himself to it. He’s being a bastard, certainly, but he’s not a one-note villain. And the torture they inflict isn’t the stubbing-a-cigarette-into-the-wife’s-bare-arm variety. It’s more mental than physical.
So we get women who are collateral damage – and I include Arul’s comatose mother (Vadivukkarasi), and the nurse who’s not allowed to do her duty – of men being men. They’re being babies, really. Yazhini tells Arul that he should get on with his life, write another story, make another movie. He says it’s like her trying to have another child while still pregnant with their daughter. (Yes, all these men end up with girl children.) He’s a wallower – but maybe all artists are. You like to do that, don’t you Karthik? Even in a film like this, you deliver a commentary about filmmaking and the artist. Why, even Arul’s father is a sculptor, and though we never see him ill-treating his wife (thank you for sparing us the clichés of raised hands and raised voices), we’re informed that he’s responsible for her state. His son’s following the father’s footsteps. Maybe you’re trying to say that the wives of obsessed artists are doomed to become collateral damage. Your films make us think, Karthik, so thank you for that.
All your stories have at their centre a filmmaker, or at least (in the case of your first film, Pizza) a storyteller. And through them, we seem to hear your voice. “Works of art should not be in places where they are not respected.” “Namma padam pesanum, naama pesa koodadhu.” You compare masala movies to a massage with a happy ending. (I laughed, but please don’t judge me when I say I rather like massages with happy endings – I refer to masala movies, of course.) We even get a line of dialogue about Dolby Atmos. (What will the B/C-centre audience make of this, Karthik? But then you don’t really give a shit, do you? More power to you.) And you like your insider jokes. That crass, egoistic producer who does not care about art – he reminded me of the crass producer from your earlier film, Jigarthanda. You like Rajinikanth too. You referenced Thillu Mullu in Pizza, Thalapathi in Jigarthanda, and now you have Arul singing Malayala karayoram, Michael singing Oorai therinjikitten.
Or is that more of an Ilayaraja homage? You like to keep the audience guessing, right? When the Bobby Simha character in Jigarthanda said he was a Shankar-Ganesh fan, it appeared that you were mocking the endless Ilayaraja nods in Tamil cinema, but here you are, doffing your hat to the maestro. “Raja Raja dhaan.” Arul says this… twice. (By the way, which is that nightclub which plays Maanguyile poonguyile? Do let us know.) And the reuse of Unnai thaane – first in a scene between Michael and Malarvizhi; later in a scene between Michael and Ponni – is the kind of Easter egg we come to your films for. Let me list some others, though I’ll probably need to watch the film a second (or third) time to get them all. The name of the bachelors’ quarters is Ambal Mansion – it goes with your theme and title. I didn’t get the bit about the windmills (something connected to the gust of wind that makes the row of cycles fall over in the first scene?), or why you showcased the book of Shanta Shishunala Sharif’s poems. (I confess. I Googled up that name. I can’t remember the last time a Tamil film made me Google something up. Madras, maybe.) And despite your note at the beginning that Iraivi is inspired by the works of K Balachander (he made female-centric films, but I don’t know if I’d call them feminist films), this is really more of an ode to Mani Ratnam, isn’t it? Specifically, Aayidha Ezhuthu. The three men, one of them – the impulsive one – named Michael. The film starting out as Arul’s story, then becoming Michael’s story, and finally Jagan’s (Bobby Simha) story. The finale with the woman on the train. Plus, the arc of the Madhavan-Meera Jasmine plot was essentially about being easily misled (in the case of the man) and becoming collateral damage (in the case of the woman.) And yes, the rain. All that rain. As though the skies were weeping for these women.
Am I digressing, Karthik? If I am, I’m just following your style, which is the opposite of simple and linear. As a result, I find your films longer than they need to be. (You may feel the same about my reviews.) For instance, I did not care for the scene in the nightclub where a director is felicitated. I realise it was there as a last straw for Yazhini, but it felt redundant. But I suppose they couldn’t be any other way, because you like these shaggy-dog stories that you then embellish with novelistic detail. I love the way you introduce your characters, the time you take with them. Our films lay out characters and their relationship to each other the minute we set eyes on them, but you make us wait to know how Arul is related to Jagan and where Michael fits in and so on. And when it appeared that a semblance of a plot was kicking in (something about Arul needing money to buy back his film), I dug out my phone and checked: it was a whole hour into the movie. Borrowing an image from Malarvizhi’s profession (oh wait, she’s an artist too; she’s literally an artist), it’s like daubs of paint slowly forming a bigger picture.
And you really like an expansive canvas. Not only does the crass producer have a brother, you also bring in his wife later on, to conclude a deal he began making. These segments practically form a mini-movie, with another woman left reeling by the actions of her man. Your films have this… density. They’re packed – with characters, with complications, with information doled out in bits and pieces. (A character says, “Un kitta onnu sollanum.” And instead of hearing what he has to say, we cut to someone else.) Take the scene where Michael asks Arul for money he is owed. You just need to get Michael to Arul’s antiques shop, so the next part of the plot can be staged. Arul could have told Michael to collect the money at the shop. Instead, this is what we get. Arul tells Michael to wait for a week, when he can get the 50 lakhs he is owed. Michael says he wants only 10 lakhs. Arul says he has only 8 lakhs, he’ll give the remainder later. Michael goes to Arul’s father, in the hospital. He has only 5 lakhs. And he directs Michael to the shop, to get the remaining 3 lakhs. Your signature intercutting adds to this texture, Karthik. Shots of Michael and Arul’s father in the hospital are intercut with shots of Arul hunting for booze. Shots of Michael and Jagan outside a courtroom are intercut with shots of Arul being consoled by his father. Happenings are stretched and meshed the way they would be in real life, and not compacted according to the page-per-minute requirement of screenplay-writing textbooks.
I could never predict where the film was going (win!), what these people were going to do (again, win!) –though I must admit I found this to be the weakest of your “twists.” The subplot about stealing sculptures, too, I found rather conceit-y, something half-heartedly cooked up to fit with the title and the theme, rather than something plausible, something these people would do. When Michael, here, commits murder, with a hammer, I went, “This mild-mannered chap? Really?” But then, even in Jigarthanda, I wasn’t quite convinced that the characters would do the things they did. They seemed to be puppets of a screenplay rather than credible human beings, whose actions evolve organically from who they are (or at least, who they seem to be).
But even if I am not convinced by the overall trajectory of your characters, I love how fleshed-out they are on a moment-to-moment basis. I loved the scene where Arul barges into Yazhini’s house, after their separation, on the day of her engagement to someone else. In a lesser film, she would have asked him to get out, and he’d have dug his heels in, and she’d have cooled down and… But here, she rushes straight into his arms. And you make us see why. She was frustrated, fed up with him. But she’s also confused. Was she hasty in abandoning this man? Should she move on with another man? Does she even need a man? With just this one scene, you’ve compensated for the underwritten heroine of Jigarthanda. The story arc may be Arul’s, but Yazhini registers as a fully formed character. Similarly, Michael’s arc allows for the delineation of Ponni and Malarvizhi, and through Jagan, we get glimpses of his mother, and possibly of all womanhood as viewed by a compassionate man. And then you say that women don’t need even this compassionate man (poor chap!), that they have to emancipate themselves instead of looking for a penis-wielding emancipator. What delicious irony, given that you begin the film with women talking about marriage, tying themselves to a man!
Or not, in the case of Malarvizhi, who is easily the film’s most interesting character. Her husband is dead, and she doesn’t want love anymore – only sex. When Michael buys her a diamond necklace, she gives it back to him – she can buy her own trinkets, thank you very much. But the character feels shoe-horned into the film, Karthik. I felt betrayed – and I bet she did too – that after a point, she was used simply as a plot device to get Michael and Ponni together, and also to illustrate Michael’s (who is now standing in for all of mankind) hypocrisy. I felt she deserved more. And yet, I appreciated your generosity in fleshing her out like all the others, without judging her. She gets to be the rare woman in Tamil cinema who dumps the man, and the way she lets go of Michael is echoed in the way Arul lets go of Yazhini, with a heavy heart and some playacting. A side effect of the Malarvizhi subplot is the reassurance that Vijay Sethupathi is still interested in making cinema, rather than just massy entertainers targeted at the box office.
Ponni gets a better deal (and Anjali is terrific, raw and expressive in a way she has never been). In a great scene – rather, a set of book-ending scenes – Michael tells Ponni that he was forced to marry her, and she’s going to have to “adjust” to this if she wants to be with him. Much later, she throws the “adjust” word back on his bearded face when he asks her if she slept with someone else. In a different kind of movie, we’d be invited to see this symmetry, stand up and applaud. But you’re too subtle for that, Karthik. Iraivi is your subtlest film. Which is why I winced at the melodramatic lines about men and women, most of which came towards the end. Aan, using the long-sounding vowel, versus penn, with the shorter one – for such a visual filmmaker (this is another outstandingly shot film, less showy than Jigarthanda and probably richer for that), do you really need the crutch of linguistic special effects from another era of filmmaking? Also, when the rest of your film is so allusive, isn’t there another way you can explain the twist without having a character resort to such an inelegant information dump?
And why is it that your films come together more in the head than in the heart? Why are they easier to admire than love wholeheartedly? I used to think it was because your characters are essentially deceitful, self-serving and unsympathetic, so though we were invested in what they did, we didn’t really warm up to them. But here, you have Ponni and Yazhini and Malarvizhi – and they’re still remote. But perhaps this is bound to happen when there are so many people, so many strands, when we don’t follow one person’s simplistic “you go, girl” journey like we do in, say, 36 Vayadhinile? But when the parts are so well-crafted, we don’t complain as much about their sum not adding up to a satisfying whole. I am sure that you will, one day, make that wholly satisfying film, but for now, thank you for these parts. Thank you for the ambition. I felt there were too many songs (some good work by Santhosh Narayanan), but thank you for ensuring that they don’t break character, the way songs usually do when a character speaking in his or her voice suddenly segues into the playback singer’s voice. Thank you for giving us SJ Surya, the actor – I never dreamed he had such a capacity to hold a scene, to hold the screen. Thank you for continuing not to sell out. Thank you for trying to do so much, even if not all of it needed to have been tried. And thank you for making me fight with myself, for not making it easy to decide if you’ve made a “good” film or a merely “okay” film. For now, Iraivi is a fascinating film, and that’s enough.
Sincerely, etc.

When I was three years old I was in a really bad car accident. I didn't know it at the time, but that singular event would come to define everything about my life moving forward. What I remember about the accident is mostly a collage of backdated comments I was able to reel out of my father in the following years. He was driving me and my mom in his old '91 Chevy Tahoe through the twisting backroads of Southern Illinois, weaving his way through the gnarled branches of oak trees which interlocked into a braided ceiling overhead. A fog had rolled in, giving the impression that we were driving through a cloudy tube. Everything was simultaneously bright and opaque. I didn't mind though, as I was in the back seat working on a coloring book. My mom was in the front, talking with my dad or turning around to entertain my completed pictures.
Although I was of the age where my memory was just beginning to mature, I still recall two things very clearly from the accident. First was the sensation of breaking. I remember feeling the way a plate must feel to be dropped: weightless at first, then suddenly meeting a much larger, more solid object—the air popped like a firecracker, and the entirety of my body shattered into hundreds of fractals. And then I remember a hand. It was my dad's hand pulling me from the wreck.
I ended up hospitalized for weeks after the crash. My mom was less lucky. The impact had killed her instantly.
As I've alluded to, I was young, and at the time I didn't fully understand the implications of what had happened. I knew something was missing, but it was like a word on the tip of my tongue, or the forgotten vanilla in a cherished cake recipe—coloring my experience, but not the whole of it. Not like my dad. For him, it was the whole fucking cake. He had somehow made it out with only a few scratches. I'm sure he had a really bad case of survivor's guilt, and frankly, looking back, I wouldn't have blamed him if he slumped into despair and spent his days drinking away his sorrow. But he wasn't that type of man. He got help. It took him years before he was able to recall anything that happened that morning, and most of it is still repressed, but he shared with me what he could. Or at least that's what I had thought.
My dad was a Middle School teacher since before I was born, and he kept his job until very recently. As a result, we didn't have much by way of resources. I grew up on Disney Channel and TV dinners for the most part, but I didn't mind. When I became of school age, his job actually made caring for me pretty convenient. Since our Elementary and Middle schools were connected, he was able to drive me there and back each day.
It was around third or fourth grade that I realized I was different. I didn't understand the other children or even the adults most of the time. They would say things then immediately change their mind, or they would talk about something and in the next breath forget its existence entirely. I remember one day at lunch, I had just gotten my tray of hot food and sat down with some friends. One of the kids, Alex, was talking about a stuffed bird he had won for getting first place in Mr. Curtis's pop-up math competition. We were all admiring its blue wings and white belly and sharp black beak and beady eyes. I left mid-conversation to get a chocolate milk. When I came back, I asked to see the bird again, and Alex said "what bird?" I was perplexed. "The bird—the bluejay you were just showing us." I remember all of the other kids looking at me like I was crazy. I figured they were all playing a trick on me, so I got up and went over to Alex's seat and crouched down, looking under the table, then I sprung up and tried to open his lunchbox. "What are you doing!?" he yelled. I felt so confused and embarrassed that I ran to the bathroom to cry.
And then there was another time a group of kids were laughing about a joke one of the girls, Taylor, had made about our homeroom teacher's face looking like a seal. I knew it was mean, but at the time I just wanted to fit in so I played along, but when I made a comment about her resemblance to the semi-aquatic animal, they all looked at me confused. "What are you talking about? We never said that…"
These misattributions kept happening, and it led to me being ostracized from most of the little childish cliques that popped up. I developed a quasi-standoffish temperament which I used as a shield against a chaotic world that I didn't understand. My dad eventually had me tested for ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder), but I passed the test. He asked if I wanted to move to a different town with different schoolmates, thinking that perhaps I was getting bullied, but I told him it was fine. Somewhere deep down I felt like no matter where I went, this problem would follow me.
You may think that I was simply coping with the absence of my mom, and while I'm sure that her absence has left certain holes in my life, kindly, no, that wasn't what was happening. You see, at first I didn't notice the instances of what I'll call "blinking". I simply thought that I was misremembering things: objects, words, events. They were all little things anyway. A bird, a joke, my pencil box. It wasn't until sixth grade that I realized the magnitude of the phenomenon.
I was in my dad's 6th grade Social Studies class and we had just been assigned our "Ancient Civilizations" project which involved creating a diorama of our chosen civilization and presenting its features to the class. My friend at the time, Claire, had taken my first choice of Ancient Rome (which we had a heated argument about at lunch), so I was left with Ancient Egypt. At the time, all I pictured for Egypt was a plate of sand. However, my dad and I went through some illustrated history books and pictures on the internet and he really built up the project for me.
Over the course of a couple months, he helped me shape three pyramids out of small wooden planks and a bunch of tan clay. We placed them in the center of a giant square shoebox lid which served as the container for the diorama. Then he bought some small wooden mannequin puppets and we dressed them up in cloth clothes (mostly kilts and tunics) and colored their eyes, mouths, and hair. We added a few obelisks and some small box-huts which were collected into a little village around the Nile. Finally, we added a light glaze of glue where we felt would be necessary and then covered the whole project with golden glitter.
As we worked on each part of the diorama, my dad helped me understand what we were adding and why it was important to Ancient Egypt. I loved the way he talked about history. He spun everything into a miraculous story. To this day, I don't think I've ever had a teacher who came close to his level of charisma and creativity. As a result, I became really proud of my diorama. I memorized all the little details and rehearsed my speech in front of the mirror for hours leading up to the last couple weeks of class. And then, two days before I was supposed to give my presentation, everything fell apart.
First, I need to apologize for deceiving you about an aspect of my story. I thought it might help you to understand what I was going through at the time. What I'm about to tell you is going to sound insane. I get that. But please hear me out. The truth is that I was never assigned to present on Ancient Egypt; everything else about Clair taking my first pick and dad helping me with the whole project and my excitement leading up to the presentation was all true, but it wasn't a project on Ancient Egypt, it was a project on Ancient Sidovan, which was a civilization located on the eighth continent called "Catalan" (the same name as the spoken language, but unrelated) which was due West of Australia in the Indian Ocean.
I know this sounds incredible, and if you want to believe it's all in my head, I get that, but I remember clearly all sorts of facts about it: the Malagasy, the same people who populated Madagascar, were the first peoples to discover Catalan and settle it. However, about five hundred years later, Indian ships would arrive and create the civilization known as Sidovan. A pidgin language formed between the indigenous population and new arriving Indians called "Hiesa" (pronounced: Hai-E-suh or Hai-ʔ-suh). Catalan had a warm climate with plenty of natural resources, but Sidovan had a dense enough population to require agricultural production. They grew rice, grain, sugarcane, vegetables, and even tobacco.
I remembered all of these facts and more. My diorama reflected the main features of the Sidovan civilization. And then two days before my presentation, I woke up and my diorama was entirely different. The hilly grasslands were traded out for sandy dunes. The Hindu statues and stone palaces became clay pyramids and large spear-like pillars. And everything was covered with the ickiest yellow glitter I had ever seen. Tears stung my eyes as I trampled over to my dad's room and banged on his door. "Dad! What did you do!?" I yelled.
"Honey?" He responded, rushing over to the base of the stairs. "What's wrong?"
"The diorama. It's ruined!"
"It's what?" he asked and ran up the stairs, leading me to my room. He looked over it for a few seconds, checking to see if everything was intact, then said, "I don't see it, honey. Where is it ruined?"
I was completely dumb-struck. What did he mean he didn't see it? "All of it!" I shouted. "The whole thing is wrong. Where's the grass and the stone buildings and the lady with the four arms and the elephants? Where is my project!?"
My dad looked at me in silence. "Lauren, baby, what civilization do you think you were working on?"
"Ancient Sidovan, of course! We've been working on this for months now! Dad, please tell me you remember."
He knelt down and put his hands on my shoulders. "Honey, your project was on Ancient Egypt. There is no Ancient Sidovan."
"Y-you're lying." I protested. "Books, you have books. On your bookshelf."
He took me into his study and showed me all of his books. None of them were on Ancient Sidovan. He even turned on his computer and typed in the name of the civilization, but all that came up was a near match "Sidon". I remember feeling the sudden urge to puke. My entire body felt like it was pumping battery acid instead of blood. "I—I don't," I started but suddenly my head felt very light, and I fainted.
When I woke up, I was in the hospital. I had lost consciousness for over half an hour, enough time for my dad to call 9-1-1 and have the ambulance transport me to the nearest ER. They ran all sorts of tests on me, but they all came back fine. After a couple hours of IV fluids and monitoring, they released me with my dad.
I ended up skipping the rest of school that week. My dad didn't make me present my diorama. In fact, he never brought the subject up again. Part of me was glad. I just wanted to forget the whole thing ever happened. But another part of me couldn't move past what was clearly the most absurd thing to ever happen to me. About a week after the incident, I tried to broach the subject, but when I asked my dad about it, he didn't seem to remember our conversation at all. He said I had fallen ill and that's why I needed to go to the ER and miss class. I felt like I was going crazy. If I was older, I probably would have voluntarily checked myself into a psychiatric ward. But I was young and helpless and alone, and I decided that if I just ignored the changes well enough, I could still get along. This proved difficult though, as the blinking would only exacerbate in the coming months.
Up until the time of the project, I hadn't been able to directly observe the phenomenon. It was always in retrospect that things disappeared. It was during the summer after sixth grade that this changed. I still remember the first time it happened. I had just gotten out of the shower and was drying my hair in front of the mirror. After it was dried, I threw on my clothes then went to tie my hair up in a ponytail, but as I went to set the elastic tie, I felt its weight dissipate in my hand. I gasped and held my hand out. The circular black band was gone.
Fast forward to seventh grade and the blinking had spiraled out of control. Reflecting back on it, most people would probably have assumed I was drinking psilocybin-infused water, as the delusions were somewhat consistent with psychedelic phenomena: except these distortions were real (at least they felt that way to me).
I'd wake up and grab the box of Special K but end up eating Cheerios. The McDonalds logo would look yellow and red one day, but purple and black the next. I'd be watching a show, and then a different show, and then a different one. It was as if the entire universe was a Christmas tree with millions of lights, and the lights kept shifting hues randomly, faster and faster, and I was the only one who could see their changing colors. I remember one night my dad made spaghetti for dinner and we went out onto the porch to eat it. While we were sitting, I saw our neighbor's house, a two story townhome, blink and become a single story bungalow. I gasped, and my dad asked what was wrong, but when I tried to explain he just gave me a strange look. For him, no matter what changed, the world was "always that way". While for me, it didn't have "a way".
The situation peaked when Clair, that friend I mentioned before, disappeared. I texted her (my dad had bought me a BlackBerry at the beginning of summer break) but didn't get a response. When I asked her other friends if they knew where she was, I got the usual "what are you talking about?" look. I knew right away what had happened, even though I didn't want to believe it. I went to the teacher and asked if there was a Clair in our class. She said "no". I broke down in front of everyone. I couldn't take it anymore. I ran out of school. The lady at the front desk tried to stop me, but I just barrelled past her. I kept running until I got to a big park across the street and bawled my eyes out until the police arrived and escorted me home. When they tried asking me what was wrong, I didn't say anything. There was literally nothing I could say that they would understand.
That night I prayed to God for the first time. My dad wasn't a religious man. He went to Catholic church with my mom when she was alive, but after she died he never went back. Still, I knew how to pray, even if I never did it. I copied some of the people I saw praying in movies and interlocked my fingers and knelt down on my bed, stuffing my head into a pillow. "Dear God," I said, "Please, please, please help me." I told Him about my struggles and asked Him to make them stop. I spent an hour saying the same things over and over again. And when I was finished, my little body was so tired, I fell right to sleep.
I knew something was different the second I opened my eyelids. I didn't only feel relieved, but I felt… embraced. I felt like someone was watching over me. I felt like I wasn't alone. I moved through my day with cautious apprehension. I didn't want to get my hopes up only to be let down. But to my surprise, the blinking had stopped. At least I couldn't remember any of the inconsistencies, and to me, that was a win. I began to pray regularly, and the more I did, the more I could feel the sense that someone was looking out for me. It was like I was getting a big hug from some cosmic force that loved me and wanted me to be happy.
I made it a habit to pray regularly. I asked my dad if he could take me to a church, and he agreed to take me to St. Mark's, the same church that he and my mom used to attend. Over time, I realized that the actual church services weren't as important to me as the praying. For whatever reason, there was something about praying that was like a glue for my brain, holding the entire universe together. As I got older, I considered that maybe it wasn't that the changes were no longer happening, but that I simply didn't see them anymore. In other words, maybe I was just becoming like everyone else. Either way, I didn't mind.
In my teenage years, I got into mindfulness meditation. I thought that I'd want to go into religious studies and become a theologian, so I started to learn about Eastern traditions in addition to Christianity. I joined a bunch of different school clubs to meet kids of different faiths: Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam. I tried to find a common thread which linked them all and would explain what happened to me as a child. The metaphors of Heaven and Hell, Good and Evil, the Taoist Yin and Yang—duality. Every religion seemed to speak about a way of being that would lead to a better place. In some cases that better place was a physical future existence, and in others it was merely being in contact with the perfection of nature or the present. Metaphorically, the teachings could explain what I had gone through in a kind of loose way, but there were no explicit statements about my condition.
***
I want to fast forward to why I've decided to write about this now. To give you an idea of where I'm at, I'm now 25 and working on finishing my MA in Computational Linguistics. I know that's a bit of a switch from what I was thinking when I was a teenager, but I really only interested in religion because of the value praying afforded me as a child. I didn't actually have much interest in the subject, itself. After my first year of college, I changed to an English major, which ultimately led to me taking a linguistics class and enjoying it so much that I switched tracks in my Junior year. Considering the state of the world, I thought minoring in Computer Science might help me financially in the future, so I ended up charting a path which I figured might lead to something like developing translation software.
Anyway, everything was going fine until a few weeks ago. I was out at an all-night diner with a few of my friends from the program. There was Jeremy, Martin, Bella, Jordan, and Macy. We had been working on a group project together involving modeling construction grammars by generating primitive 3D structures using C# and running the code through a game engine (it's a bit weird, but essentially we were trying to create a multidimensional model for language using a similar but more advanced concept than other LLMs), and just had a breakthrough. It was 2AM though and not a brain cell existed between the six of us, so instead we focused on a different problem: Macy's ongoing breakup with her semi-long distance trucker boyfriend. We tried to explain why Mike wasn't going to work out as we ordered a round of milkshakes and waited for the lone overnight kitchen worker to scoop out three balls of ice cream from the Deans carton for each of us, blend it, then have the server deliver the vintage diner glasses on a plastic tray.
I dug into my thick strawberry shake with a spoon. It was delicious. I kept eating but focused back on the conversation. I remember feeling something odd about one of the scoops, but I was so entrenched in Macy's story that I didn't notice the metal shard in my ice cream until I felt it against my lip. "P-tuh" I spat out the shard and ice cream all in one motion, then covered my mouth which I was sure was bleeding. The silver blade was probably as large as my thumb, and it had two jagged edges, as if it was fastened for the purpose of causing damage. "What the fuck!" I yelled.
Everyone at the table turned to see what was the matter. "Hey, Lauren, you okay?"
I spoke through a covered mouth, using my free hand to point at the table. "That was in my—"
But it was gone.
"In your… shake? Was something in your shake?" asked Jeremy.
I froze. In that moment, the stories of my childhood that I had only remembered as faint nightmares came back in a wave of crushing terror. How could I have been so stupid to think they would simply vanish forever? No, this isn't the same thing, I thought. But deep down, I knew it was. I drew my hand away from my lips and saw that it was dry—no blood. When I looked back up, all of the blood in my veins went cold. My friends were… smiling at me. Their lips were elastic like taffy, stretching to reveal their teeth. I could feel them radiating malevolence, as if the only thing holding them back from picking up their utensils and stabbing me to death was some thinly veiled force field. The moment lasted for what felt like half a minute, then Jordan said two words which made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
"Found you"
The words ricocheted in my now adrenaline powered skull. But just as he spoke them, the world blinked and my friends were back. Bella reached out and grabbed my hand. I pulled away, but when I saw her concerned expression, I relented.
"Sorry, guys, I think I'm going to have to call it." I said.
"You sure, L?" asked Jordan. "You look like you just saw a ghost."
"Yeah, thanks, but I just…" I stumbled for a lie, but when one wouldn't come, Martin stood up and said he'd walk me out to my car.
"Thanks," I said as I got into my little 2015 Jetta. "It's just been a long day."
"No problem, Lauren. You know, if there's ever anything—"
"I know," I said but didn't mean. Some things just couldn't be shared.
I drove for about five minutes before stopping at a gas station. I pulled in and parked near the back. Then I interlocked my fingers and prayed for half an hour. I apologized for not taking my praying seriously and asked to once again be granted peace. Unlike my younger years, I also drifted into other avenues of thought. I imagined my mom. I pictured the whole arc of my life, all of the little decisions that led me to where I was. I cried for a long time. I felt like that little girl again reaching out for help. I still felt so lost, so out of control; there were so many things missing, and I was so confused.
I decided then to take a trip back home and visit my dad who was now working as a private tutor. He made enough prepping affluent students for the ACT and SAT that he could spend his free time pursuing his real passions: reading and writing. When I arrived at his doorstep that weekend, he greeted me with open arms. "How are you, kiddo? It's been, what? A year or so?"
It was actually more like two years, but I didn't tell him. I just smiled and nodded.
"Well, come in."
The house was almost exactly how I remembered it. Linoleum floors, beige walls, a few scattered pictures, the scent of camomile. Everything minimalist. There was a quaintness, a prettiness to the way everything seemed to be well kept and in a perfect place. From the cherry wood chairs we'd sit in to eat, to the cream-colored loveseat. I felt at home.
I spent the drive thinking of what I would talk to my dad about, but ultimately I wasn't sure what I'd say. I loved my dad, but I think growing up it was easy to see him as naive. After all, arguably the most important episodes of my childhood were completely unknown to him. In that way, I kind of loved him from a distance. Maybe losing my mom also played into that. Maybe I just had trust issues. And after what happened at the diner… Luckily there hadn't been any blinks since.
I stayed for a couple days and he showed me around some of the different coffee shops where he'd tutor kids or write some of his stories. I met some of his friends, mostly other retired or part-time teachers who were in a similar place in life. I was happy for him. Then, on Sunday, he made me my favorite meal growing up: homemade carbonara pasta with chicken and broccoli. The sauce had a few different cheeses, butter, olive oil, and a raw egg yolk. It was the perfect blend of creamy, savory, and sweet. After we ate, he cracked open a scrapbook of some old photos and other clippings he had put together.
We reminisced about the past and laughed whenever I'd cover up one of my awkward pictures. He brought up some stories from school that I had forgotten, naming some teachers that I hadn't thought about in years. Apparently I had started at the end, because as I moved to the other end of the book, I kept getting younger and younger. I flipped to the last pages and noticed a couple pictures of my mom that made my heart sink.
"She was beautiful, wasn't she?" said my dad.
"Mmm," I agreed.
I flipped to the last page and saw a collage of newspaper clippings. One of them was related to the accident. It was headlined: "Two Survive Head-On Collision". After a cursory glance at the text, I noticed something odd. It said, "Both the husband and child, a three year old girl, sustained life-threatening wounds. The husband was found unconscious on the scene. The girl was found twenty meters away from the vehicle, crying." I swallowed, trying to remember back to what happened that day. The feeling of crashing, of the world slowing down, then breaking, returned. And then there was a hand. My dad's hand. Or was it? If he was unconscious, who pulled me out of that wreck?
I looked up at my dad. He was smiling.
I shot up and started backing up slowly toward the door. "No, not you, too. What is this? What's happening? Who are you?"
My dad, or whatever was controlling him, laughed."Oh, Lauren, Lauren, Lauren. You know who we are." he purred as he stood up. He lifted his hands and the lights began to flicker then bend in a way which shouldn't have been possible. Dark figures began to propagate from the shadows along the walls. The pictures nailed there began to blink out of existence. I turned to run toward the door but the handle was gone. Glass shards materialized all around me and swarmed like locusts. Certain I was going to die, I dropped down on my knees and once again turned to prayer, this time asking God to directly intervene and save me.
Everything went quiet.
"Honey? Are you okay?"
I didn't trust his voice. I knew if I opened my eyes, I'd see that awful smile. He was just toying with me. "It's not you," I said in between muttered prayers. "I know it's not you."
"Honey," my dad said, closer. I felt his arms wrap around me. This was it, I was going to be suffocated. I waited for the inevitable crushing weight of my chest collapsing. I waited to break all over again.
"I would never hurt you, Lauren. I love you more than anything in the whole world."
I burst out in tears. "No, it's not you, I know it's not you. You don't exist!"
My dad's weight dissipated. I opened my eyes and saw that he was no longer there. "Dad?" I called aloud. "Dad? Where did you go?"
I checked all over the house, but there was no trace of him. There were still pictures of him all over the house, so I knew he hadn't blinked out of existence like everything else, but somehow he was missing.
***
I left the house and got a room at a hotel, where I am now. I'm sure at this point that whatever is happening to me is no longer random. Something out there is actively trying to hunt me. Maybe it has been my whole life, but only now it can see me—however weird that sounds. If that's right, then God has been on my side trying to protect me from this demon or monster or devil or whatever it is. Regardless, the methods I was using when I was younger are not going to cut it anymore. I already posted my story in several other small circles and have gotten one reply. A man who goes by the name "Trent" (apparently it's an alias). He said that he has some insight into my "condition" and can offer help if I want it. I'm planning on meeting with him tomorrow. I'm not sure if it's a good idea, but at this point I need answers. I can keep you updated with my progress if that interests you, and to anyone who knows anything about what's happening to me, please… I could really use your help.
***
I was just about to post this when Trent sent another message. This is what it says:
Trent: We can do the \*** at **** O'clock. Also, if what you're telling me is true, your mother may still be alive.*

When I was three years old I was in a really bad car accident. I didn't know it at the time, but that singular event would come to define everything about my life moving forward. What I remember about the accident is mostly a collage of backdated comments I was able to reel out of my father in the following years. He was driving me and my mom in his old '91 Chevy Tahoe through the twisting backroads of Southern Illinois, weaving his way through the gnarled branches of oak trees which interlocked into a braided ceiling overhead. A fog had rolled in, giving the impression that we were driving through a cloudy tube. Everything was simultaneously bright and opaque. I didn't mind though, as I was in the back seat working on a coloring book. My mom was in the front, talking with my dad or turning around to entertain my completed pictures.
Although I was of the age where my memory was just beginning to mature, I still recall two things very clearly from the accident. First was the sensation of breaking. I remember feeling the way a plate must feel to be dropped: weightless at first, then suddenly meeting a much larger, more solid object—the air popped like a firecracker, and the entirety of my body shattered into hundreds of fractals. And then I remember a hand. It was my dad's hand pulling me from the wreck.
I ended up hospitalized for weeks after the crash. My mom was less lucky. The impact had killed her instantly.
As I've alluded to, I was young, and at the time I didn't fully understand the implications of what had happened. I knew something was missing, but it was like a word on the tip of my tongue, or the forgotten vanilla in a cherished cake recipe—coloring my experience, but not the whole of it. Not like my dad. For him, it was the whole fucking cake. He had somehow made it out with only a few scratches. I'm sure he had a really bad case of survivor's guilt, and frankly, looking back, I wouldn't have blamed him if he slumped into despair and spent his days drinking away his sorrow. But he wasn't that type of man. He got help. It took him years before he was able to recall anything that happened that morning, and most of it is still repressed, but he shared with me what he could. Or at least that's what I had thought.
My dad was a Middle School teacher since before I was born, and he kept his job until very recently. As a result, we didn't have much by way of resources. I grew up on Disney Channel and TV dinners for the most part, but I didn't mind. When I became of school age, his job actually made caring for me pretty convenient. Since our Elementary and Middle schools were connected, he was able to drive me there and back each day.
It was around third or fourth grade that I realized I was different. I didn't understand the other children or even the adults most of the time. They would say things then immediately change their mind, or they would talk about something and in the next breath forget its existence entirely. I remember one day at lunch, I had just gotten my tray of hot food and sat down with some friends. One of the kids, Alex, was talking about a stuffed bird he had won for getting first place in Mr. Curtis's pop-up math competition. We were all admiring its blue wings and white belly and sharp black beak and beady eyes. I left mid-conversation to get a chocolate milk. When I came back, I asked to see the bird again, and Alex said "what bird?" I was perplexed. "The bird—the bluejay you were just showing us." I remember all of the other kids looking at me like I was crazy. I figured they were all playing a trick on me, so I got up and went over to Alex's seat and crouched down, looking under the table, then I sprung up and tried to open his lunchbox. "What are you doing!?" he yelled. I felt so confused and embarrassed that I ran to the bathroom to cry.
And then there was another time a group of kids were laughing about a joke one of the girls, Taylor, had made about our homeroom teacher's face looking like a seal. I knew it was mean, but at the time I just wanted to fit in so I played along, but when I made a comment about her resemblance to the semi-aquatic animal, they all looked at me confused. "What are you talking about? We never said that…"
These misattributions kept happening, and it led to me being ostracized from most of the little childish cliques that popped up. I developed a quasi-standoffish temperament which I used as a shield against a chaotic world that I didn't understand. My dad eventually had me tested for ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder), but I passed the test. He asked if I wanted to move to a different town with different schoolmates, thinking that perhaps I was getting bullied, but I told him it was fine. Somewhere deep down I felt like no matter where I went, this problem would follow me.
You may think that I was simply coping with the absence of my mom, and while I'm sure that her absence has left certain holes in my life, kindly, no, that wasn't what was happening. You see, at first I didn't notice the instances of what I'll call "blinking". I simply thought that I was misremembering things: objects, words, events. They were all little things anyway. A bird, a joke, my pencil box. It wasn't until sixth grade that I realized the magnitude of the phenomenon.
I was in my dad's 6th grade Social Studies class and we had just been assigned our "Ancient Civilizations" project which involved creating a diorama of our chosen civilization and presenting its features to the class. My friend at the time, Claire, had taken my first choice of Ancient Rome (which we had a heated argument about at lunch), so I was left with Ancient Egypt. At the time, all I pictured for Egypt was a plate of sand. However, my dad and I went through some illustrated history books and pictures on the internet and he really built up the project for me.
Over the course of a couple months, he helped me shape three pyramids out of small wooden planks and a bunch of tan clay. We placed them in the center of a giant square shoebox lid which served as the container for the diorama. Then he bought some small wooden mannequin puppets and we dressed them up in cloth clothes (mostly kilts and tunics) and colored their eyes, mouths, and hair. We added a few obelisks and some small box-huts which were collected into a little village around the Nile. Finally, we added a light glaze of glue where we felt would be necessary and then covered the whole project with golden glitter.
As we worked on each part of the diorama, my dad helped me understand what we were adding and why it was important to Ancient Egypt. I loved the way he talked about history. He spun everything into a miraculous story. To this day, I don't think I've ever had a teacher who came close to his level of charisma and creativity. As a result, I became really proud of my diorama. I memorized all the little details and rehearsed my speech in front of the mirror for hours leading up to the last couple weeks of class. And then, two days before I was supposed to give my presentation, everything fell apart.
First, I need to apologize for deceiving you about an aspect of my story. I thought it might help you to understand what I was going through at the time. What I'm about to tell you is going to sound insane. I get that. But please hear me out. The truth is that I was never assigned to present on Ancient Egypt; everything else about Clair taking my first pick and dad helping me with the whole project and my excitement leading up to the presentation was all true, but it wasn't a project on Ancient Egypt, it was a project on Ancient Sidovan, which was a civilization located on the eighth continent called "Catalan" (the same name as the spoken language, but unrelated) which was due West of Australia in the Indian Ocean.
I know this sounds incredible, and if you want to believe it's all in my head, I get that, but I remember clearly all sorts of facts about it: the Malagasy, the same people who populated Madagascar, were the first peoples to discover Catalan and settle it. However, about five hundred years later, Indian ships would arrive and create the civilization known as Sidovan. A pidgin language formed between the indigenous population and new arriving Indians called "Hiesa" (pronounced: Hai-E-suh or Hai-ʔ-suh). Catalan had a warm climate with plenty of natural resources, but Sidovan had a dense enough population to require agricultural production. They grew rice, grain, sugarcane, vegetables, and even tobacco.
I remembered all of these facts and more. My diorama reflected the main features of the Sidovan civilization. And then two days before my presentation, I woke up and my diorama was entirely different. The hilly grasslands were traded out for sandy dunes. The Hindu statues and stone palaces became clay pyramids and large spear-like pillars. And everything was covered with the ickiest yellow glitter I had ever seen. Tears stung my eyes as I trampled over to my dad's room and banged on his door. "Dad! What did you do!?" I yelled.
"Honey?" He responded, rushing over to the base of the stairs. "What's wrong?"
"The diorama. It's ruined!"
"It's what?" he asked and ran up the stairs, leading me to my room. He looked over it for a few seconds, checking to see if everything was intact, then said, "I don't see it, honey. Where is it ruined?"
I was completely dumb-struck. What did he mean he didn't see it? "All of it!" I shouted. "The whole thing is wrong. Where's the grass and the stone buildings and the lady with the four arms and the elephants? Where is my project!?"
My dad looked at me in silence. "Lauren, baby, what civilization do you think you were working on?"
"Ancient Sidovan, of course! We've been working on this for months now! Dad, please tell me you remember."
He knelt down and put his hands on my shoulders. "Honey, your project was on Ancient Egypt. There is no Ancient Sidovan."
"Y-you're lying." I protested. "Books, you have books. On your bookshelf."
He took me into his study and showed me all of his books. None of them were on Ancient Sidovan. He even turned on his computer and typed in the name of the civilization, but all that came up was a near match "Sidon". I remember feeling the sudden urge to puke. My entire body felt like it was pumping battery acid instead of blood. "I—I don't," I started but suddenly my head felt very light, and I fainted.
When I woke up, I was in the hospital. I had lost consciousness for over half an hour, enough time for my dad to call 9-1-1 and have the ambulance transport me to the nearest ER. They ran all sorts of tests on me, but they all came back fine. After a couple hours of IV fluids and monitoring, they released me with my dad.
I ended up skipping the rest of school that week. My dad didn't make me present my diorama. In fact, he never brought the subject up again. Part of me was glad. I just wanted to forget the whole thing ever happened. But another part of me couldn't move past what was clearly the most absurd thing to ever happen to me. About a week after the incident, I tried to broach the subject, but when I asked my dad about it, he didn't seem to remember our conversation at all. He said I had fallen ill and that's why I needed to go to the ER and miss class. I felt like I was going crazy. If I was older, I probably would have voluntarily checked myself into a psychiatric ward. But I was young and helpless and alone, and I decided that if I just ignored the changes well enough, I could still get along. This proved difficult though, as the blinking would only exacerbate in the coming months.
Up until the time of the project, I hadn't been able to directly observe the phenomenon. It was always in retrospect that things disappeared. It was during the summer after sixth grade that this changed. I still remember the first time it happened. I had just gotten out of the shower and was drying my hair in front of the mirror. After it was dried, I threw on my clothes then went to tie my hair up in a ponytail, but as I went to set the elastic tie, I felt its weight dissipate in my hand. I gasped and held my hand out. The circular black band was gone.
Fast forward to seventh grade and the blinking had spiraled out of control. Reflecting back on it, most people would probably have assumed I was drinking psilocybin-infused water, as the delusions were somewhat consistent with psychedelic phenomena: except these distortions were real (at least they felt that way to me).
I'd wake up and grab the box of Special K but end up eating Cheerios. The McDonalds logo would look yellow and red one day, but purple and black the next. I'd be watching a show, and then a different show, and then a different one. It was as if the entire universe was a Christmas tree with millions of lights, and the lights kept shifting hues randomly, faster and faster, and I was the only one who could see their changing colors. I remember one night my dad made spaghetti for dinner and we went out onto the porch to eat it. While we were sitting, I saw our neighbor's house, a two story townhome, blink and become a single story bungalow. I gasped, and my dad asked what was wrong, but when I tried to explain he just gave me a strange look. For him, no matter what changed, the world was "always that way". While for me, it didn't have "a way".
The situation peaked when Clair, that friend I mentioned before, disappeared. I texted her (my dad had bought me a BlackBerry at the beginning of summer break) but didn't get a response. When I asked her other friends if they knew where she was, I got the usual "what are you talking about?" look. I knew right away what had happened, even though I didn't want to believe it. I went to the teacher and asked if there was a Clair in our class. She said "no". I broke down in front of everyone. I couldn't take it anymore. I ran out of school. The lady at the front desk tried to stop me, but I just barrelled past her. I kept running until I got to a big park across the street and bawled my eyes out until the police arrived and escorted me home. When they tried asking me what was wrong, I didn't say anything. There was literally nothing I could say that they would understand.
That night I prayed to God for the first time. My dad wasn't a religious man. He went to Catholic church with my mom when she was alive, but after she died he never went back. Still, I knew how to pray, even if I never did it. I copied some of the people I saw praying in movies and interlocked my fingers and knelt down on my bed, stuffing my head into a pillow. "Dear God," I said, "Please, please, please help me." I told Him about my struggles and asked Him to make them stop. I spent an hour saying the same things over and over again. And when I was finished, my little body was so tired, I fell right to sleep.
I knew something was different the second I opened my eyelids. I didn't only feel relieved, but I felt… embraced. I felt like someone was watching over me. I felt like I wasn't alone. I moved through my day with cautious apprehension. I didn't want to get my hopes up only to be let down. But to my surprise, the blinking had stopped. At least I couldn't remember any of the inconsistencies, and to me, that was a win. I began to pray regularly, and the more I did, the more I could feel the sense that someone was looking out for me. It was like I was getting a big hug from some cosmic force that loved me and wanted me to be happy.
I made it a habit to pray regularly. I asked my dad if he could take me to a church, and he agreed to take me to St. Mark's, the same church that he and my mom used to attend. Over time, I realized that the actual church services weren't as important to me as the praying. For whatever reason, there was something about praying that was like a glue for my brain, holding the entire universe together. As I got older, I considered that maybe it wasn't that the changes were no longer happening, but that I simply didn't see them anymore. In other words, maybe I was just becoming like everyone else. Either way, I didn't mind.
In my teenage years, I got into mindfulness meditation. I thought that I'd want to go into religious studies and become a theologian, so I started to learn about Eastern traditions in addition to Christianity. I joined a bunch of different school clubs to meet kids of different faiths: Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam. I tried to find a common thread which linked them all and would explain what happened to me as a child. The metaphors of Heaven and Hell, Good and Evil, the Taoist Yin and Yang—duality. Every religion seemed to speak about a way of being that would lead to a better place. In some cases that better place was a physical future existence, and in others it was merely being in contact with the perfection of nature or the present. Metaphorically, the teachings could explain what I had gone through in a kind of loose way, but there were no explicit statements about my condition.
***
I want to fast forward to why I've decided to write about this now. To give you an idea of where I'm at, I'm now 25 and working on finishing my MA in Computational Linguistics. I know that's a bit of a switch from what I was thinking when I was a teenager, but I really only interested in religion because of the value praying afforded me as a child. I didn't actually have much interest in the subject, itself. After my first year of college, I changed to an English major, which ultimately led to me taking a linguistics class and enjoying it so much that I switched tracks in my Junior year. Considering the state of the world, I thought minoring in Computer Science might help me financially in the future, so I ended up charting a path which I figured might lead to something like developing translation software.
Anyway, everything was going fine until a few weeks ago. I was out at an all-night diner with a few of my friends from the program. There was Jeremy, Martin, Bella, Jordan, and Macy. We had been working on a group project together involving modeling construction grammars by generating primitive 3D structures using C# and running the code through a game engine (it's a bit weird, but essentially we were trying to create a multidimensional model for language using a similar but more advanced concept than other LLMs), and just had a breakthrough. It was 2AM though and not a brain cell existed between the six of us, so instead we focused on a different problem: Macy's ongoing breakup with her semi-long distance trucker boyfriend. We tried to explain why Mike wasn't going to work out as we ordered a round of milkshakes and waited for the lone overnight kitchen worker to scoop out three balls of ice cream from the Deans carton for each of us, blend it, then have the server deliver the vintage diner glasses on a plastic tray.
I dug into my thick strawberry shake with a spoon. It was delicious. I kept eating but focused back on the conversation. I remember feeling something odd about one of the scoops, but I was so entrenched in Macy's story that I didn't notice the metal shard in my ice cream until I felt it against my lip. "P-tuh" I spat out the shard and ice cream all in one motion, then covered my mouth which I was sure was bleeding. The silver blade was probably as large as my thumb, and it had two jagged edges, as if it was fastened for the purpose of causing damage. "What the fuck!" I yelled.
Everyone at the table turned to see what was the matter. "Hey, Lauren, you okay?"
I spoke through a covered mouth, using my free hand to point at the table. "That was in my—"
But it was gone.
"In your… shake? Was something in your shake?" asked Jeremy.
I froze. In that moment, the stories of my childhood that I had only remembered as faint nightmares came back in a wave of crushing terror. How could I have been so stupid to think they would simply vanish forever? No, this isn't the same thing, I thought. But deep down, I knew it was. I drew my hand away from my lips and saw that it was dry—no blood. When I looked back up, all of the blood in my veins went cold. My friends were… smiling at me. Their lips were elastic like taffy, stretching to reveal their teeth. I could feel them radiating malevolence, as if the only thing holding them back from picking up their utensils and stabbing me to death was some thinly veiled force field. The moment lasted for what felt like half a minute, then Jordan said two words which made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
"Found you"
The words ricocheted in my now adrenaline powered skull. But just as he spoke them, the world blinked and my friends were back. Bella reached out and grabbed my hand. I pulled away, but when I saw her concerned expression, I relented.
"Sorry, guys, I think I'm going to have to call it." I said.
"You sure, L?" asked Jordan. "You look like you just saw a ghost."
"Yeah, thanks, but I just…" I stumbled for a lie, but when one wouldn't come, Martin stood up and said he'd walk me out to my car.
"Thanks," I said as I got into my little 2015 Jetta. "It's just been a long day."
"No problem, Lauren. You know, if there's ever anything—"
"I know," I said but didn't mean. Some things just couldn't be shared.
I drove for about five minutes before stopping at a gas station. I pulled in and parked near the back. Then I interlocked my fingers and prayed for half an hour. I apologized for not taking my praying seriously and asked to once again be granted peace. Unlike my younger years, I also drifted into other avenues of thought. I imagined my mom. I pictured the whole arc of my life, all of the little decisions that led me to where I was. I cried for a long time. I felt like that little girl again reaching out for help. I still felt so lost, so out of control; there were so many things missing, and I was so confused.
I decided then to take a trip back home and visit my dad who was now working as a private tutor. He made enough prepping affluent students for the ACT and SAT that he could spend his free time pursuing his real passions: reading and writing. When I arrived at his doorstep that weekend, he greeted me with open arms. "How are you, kiddo? It's been, what? A year or so?"
It was actually more like two years, but I didn't tell him. I just smiled and nodded.
"Well, come in."
The house was almost exactly how I remembered it. Linoleum floors, beige walls, a few scattered pictures, the scent of camomile. Everything minimalist. There was a quaintness, a prettiness to the way everything seemed to be well kept and in a perfect place. From the cherry wood chairs we'd sit in to eat, to the cream-colored loveseat. I felt at home.
I spent the drive thinking of what I would talk to my dad about, but ultimately I wasn't sure what I'd say. I loved my dad, but I think growing up it was easy to see him as naive. After all, arguably the most important episodes of my childhood were completely unknown to him. In that way, I kind of loved him from a distance. Maybe losing my mom also played into that. Maybe I just had trust issues. And after what happened at the diner… Luckily there hadn't been any blinks since.
I stayed for a couple days and he showed me around some of the different coffee shops where he'd tutor kids or write some of his stories. I met some of his friends, mostly other retired or part-time teachers who were in a similar place in life. I was happy for him. Then, on Sunday, he made me my favorite meal growing up: homemade carbonara pasta with chicken and broccoli. The sauce had a few different cheeses, butter, olive oil, and a raw egg yolk. It was the perfect blend of creamy, savory, and sweet. After we ate, he cracked open a scrapbook of some old photos and other clippings he had put together.
We reminisced about the past and laughed whenever I'd cover up one of my awkward pictures. He brought up some stories from school that I had forgotten, naming some teachers that I hadn't thought about in years. Apparently I had started at the end, because as I moved to the other end of the book, I kept getting younger and younger. I flipped to the last pages and noticed a couple pictures of my mom that made my heart sink.
"She was beautiful, wasn't she?" said my dad.
"Mmm," I agreed.
I flipped to the last page and saw a collage of newspaper clippings. One of them was related to the accident. It was headlined: "Two Survive Head-On Collision". After a cursory glance at the text, I noticed something odd. It said, "Both the husband and child, a three year old girl, sustained life-threatening wounds. The husband was found unconscious on the scene. The girl was found twenty meters away from the vehicle, crying." I swallowed, trying to remember back to what happened that day. The feeling of crashing, of the world slowing down, then breaking, returned. And then there was a hand. My dad's hand. Or was it? If he was unconscious, who pulled me out of that wreck?
I looked up at my dad. He was smiling.
I shot up and started backing up slowly toward the door. "No, not you, too. What is this? What's happening? Who are you?"
My dad, or whatever was controlling him, laughed."Oh, Lauren, Lauren, Lauren. You know who we are." he purred as he stood up. He lifted his hands and the lights began to flicker then bend in a way which shouldn't have been possible. Dark figures began to propagate from the shadows along the walls. The pictures nailed there began to blink out of existence. I turned to run toward the door but the handle was gone. Glass shards materialized all around me and swarmed like locusts. Certain I was going to die, I dropped down on my knees and once again turned to prayer, this time asking God to directly intervene and save me.
Everything went quiet.
"Honey? Are you okay?"
I didn't trust his voice. I knew if I opened my eyes, I'd see that awful smile. He was just toying with me. "It's not you," I said in between muttered prayers. "I know it's not you."
"Honey," my dad said, closer. I felt his arms wrap around me. This was it, I was going to be suffocated. I waited for the inevitable crushing weight of my chest collapsing. I waited to break all over again.
"I would never hurt you, Lauren. I love you more than anything in the whole world."
I burst out in tears. "No, it's not you, I know it's not you. You don't exist!"
My dad's weight dissipated. I opened my eyes and saw that he was no longer there. "Dad?" I called aloud. "Dad? Where did you go?"
I checked all over the house, but there was no trace of him. There were still pictures of him all over the house, so I knew he hadn't blinked out of existence like everything else, but somehow he was missing.
***
I left the house and got a room at a hotel, where I am now. I'm sure at this point that whatever is happening to me is no longer random. Something out there is actively trying to hunt me. Maybe it has been my whole life, but only now it can see me—however weird that sounds. If that's right, then God has been on my side trying to protect me from this demon or monster or devil or whatever it is. Regardless, the methods I was using when I was younger are not going to cut it anymore. I already posted my story in several other small circles and have gotten one reply. A man who goes by the name "Trent" (apparently it's an alias). He said that he has some insight into my "condition" and can offer help if I want it. I'm planning on meeting with him tomorrow. I'm not sure if it's a good idea, but at this point I need answers. I can keep you updated with my progress if that interests you, and to anyone who knows anything about what's happening to me, please… I could really use your help.
***
I was just about to post this when Trent sent another message. This is what it says:
Trent: We can do the \*** at **** O'clock. Also, if what you're telling me is true, your mother may still be alive.*

Forgive me for the initial ambiguity. I am not certain how to proceed, I just know that I have been given the green light to share this initial post. Take it for what it is:
Far too many are spending too much time and energy trying to solve a problem they don’t even have the right set of integers. It is quite literally impossible. Have you not ever wondered why great researchers who spend thousands of hours cannot land on anything concrete ?
Men and women have dedicated their life to figuring out the connections between the anomalous, to ultimately give up, or they ran out of time on this mortal coil. God forbid someone stumble onto the truth, and then conveniently get suicided. All of this connected, and really that is the point: Connection.
Currently, our government has spent trillions to solve this problem and to figure out who they are in bed with, and still they are in the dark. But many of them are okay with that as long as their pockets keep filling. See, for the Problem, existing in the shadows is their identity. The Problem excels in confusion and chaos. In drawing someone in just enough to keep them digging, but then driving them mad by having them feel around in the dark.
It is like Humanity is in a dark room. A big room, like a warehouse. And we are in the pitch black trying to find the light switch. Only, when someone gets too close, they either get turned the other direction, get tripped up, get locked up, or get gone. All the while, a few have on night vision goggles and orchestrate all the aimless wondering. Every once in a while, the searcher will stumble across a technology that pushes them towards the light switch, to then be thrown off course and continue to walk around aimlessly. In the pitch black, when someone “discovers” something, the others wondering around will begin to flock to that glimmer, to then be sidelined once again because the Problem loves to move large numbers of people towards an objective. It is a frustrating process and one that will continue until the lights are turned on.
However, many of our best and brightest have been co-opted to keep anyone and everyone from knowing the truth. They have falsely believed that those who desire to bring them to ruin are their allies. Over the years, many have woken up to the idea that maybe these NHI ‘friendlies’ aren’t friendly after all. Others have been so enthralled with the ‘gifts’ given to humanity, that they dismiss the possibility of these NHI’s are anything but benevolent.
Many of these “gifts” are found. In fact, all of the originals were found. How does that make sense? Pretend you are having an Easter egg hunt (not religiously speaking), and it is a grand ole time. Fast forward 5 days and you are out in the yard cutting the grass and you see a glimmer in the grass. Turns out, even though 5 days have passed, that egg is sitting where you left it. This is a very simple way of looking at it, but this is how the retrieval process began.
Many days (or ages) ago, objects were lost. Today, because of they know where the eggs are hidden, they can lead people to discover. Once discovered, the craft were studied and used to further our existence. Nowadays, the craft could be old that we discover, or it could be craft that are actually man-made, under the tutelage of NHI. The NHI can not easily manufacture in our dimension, so they tap the humans that best serve their purpose.
This can happen within an entity like the Armed Forces or a part of the Military Industrial Complex. This can also be done through organizations that we don’t readily know the name of, for example, have you ever heard of the Sonora Aero Club? Most have not, however, in the United States, this group was one of the first to be co-opted for a mission that they had no clue they were on. It makes me nervous to even write this, but we must try to find some semblance of light if we are going to make it out of this warehouse in one piece.
Men like David Grusch are diligent in their search, however, they will never be able to put the pieces together until they back up enough to see the Problem. Until it is diagnosed, we will look at pieces of a puzzle without having the box as a reference picture. The pieces of the puzzle: UAP, NHI, cattle mutilations, paranormal, etc etc, can’t be looked at as different problems—— they are the Problem.
There are entirely too many components for us to break down each in one post, but please just suspend skepticism for a minute and read this last part as if it were true:
There is an underlying glue to all things. A thread that ties us all together. In other dimensions (for lack of a better word), this thread can be woven together by groups of people having a similar idea, ideology intention, hope, fear, or sadness. Each individual thread, being part of the whole, is assembled into whatever dominates that person’s mind at that juncture. I know this sounds wild, but just imagine. Therefore, a group can be woven into a blanket that provides warmth and safety, or into a noose which could spell the end to all things. The Problem’s agenda is the latter. However, the people that are part of the Problem believe that they are making a blanket. This is why it is so hard to get people to see it for what it is: because it would mean humbling yourself and realizing that you have actually been working in the noose factory. Few people can admit their folly. Even fewer people can see they are part of the Problem because their pockets are stuffed or their power is enormous. The Problem is not stupid nor lazy, it will give you anything and everything it can to reel you in, because when the day comes, you will be tapped to do something you don’t want to do, but you must. That is part of being in bed with them, they control you.
That is all I have in me currently to share. I know that people will roll eyes, scratch heads, or dismiss completely. I am okay with that. I am not trying to sell you anything, just report on what I know to be true. I may share again, but I will answer questions best I know how. I leave you with 2 quotes:
“We’ll know our disinformation program is complete when everything the US public believes is false” -CIA Director, William J Casey, 1981
“The last card is the alien card. They will build space-based weapons against aliens, and it is all a lie.” -Werner Von Braun, 1974-1977
PS- if you ask about specific anomalies, ie. crop circles, I may only have a theory as to "why" because I don't have information on everything. But it is ALL part of ONE problem.

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I am NOT OOP. OOP is u/justathrowaway282641
Originally posted to TwoHotTakes + her own page
Previous BoRU #1, BoRU #2, BoRU #3, BoRU #4, BoRU #5, BoRU #6
Editor’s Note: removed all relevant comments from older posts to make space for new updates. To see all older relevant comments, check out the previous BoRUs above
NEW UPDATE MARKED WITH ----
[New Update]: My family forgot to invite me to my grandparents funeral, but they are convinced I was there.
Trigger Warnings: death of loved ones, emotional manipulation, gaslighting, harassment
RECAP
Original Post: November 14, 2023**
I’m 30s F and caused a major blowup in my family and now none of them are talking to me. For background, my hometown is tiny (500pop) and when I went 2 hrs away to “the city” (15,000pop) for college, I loved it. I ended up staying after graduation, got married, and am happy here for a decade. I visit my home town every few weeks or so, call/text my family near daily, and thought we were all good. My family’s pretty small. Just my brother, mom, step dad, dad, step mom, and an aunt and uncle (mom’s siblings, never married, no kids). My mother's grandparents moved to my home town when I was in high school and were just down the street from us. My family has always been pretty drama free (aside from my parent’s divorce when I was a kid) and we’ve been happy. The step-parents were blended in perfectly and we share holidays and celebrations together. We’re all super close and just the perfect little group.
Ever since I moved away, the topic of “when am I moving back?” is constant, and I’ve always laughed it off. My home town has nothing. You have to drive 30 minutes for milk and bread. 60-90 minute one-way commutes to work. And floods shut down the main road every Easter. I love the town, but I love here more. I have parks, stores, community events, a library! The “city” is great. My family grumbles that I need to move back, but I refuse. I've been trying to encourage them to come here, especially since it's not an hour drive to the nearest medical facility.
Now to the meat and potatoes: both my grandparents passed over COVID times. They were both old and their health had been failing for a while so it was only a matter of time. Thankfully they didn’t catch it, but it made visiting them impossible and we survived mostly through FaceTime. They both passed in their sleep months apart. Both were cremated and kept securely under the kitchen sink for safe keeping while the pandemic blew over. That was 2021.
Well, I just found out my family held a funeral for them and scattered the ashes in my uncle’s maple grove over the summer. No one said a word to me about it. I’ve visited numerous times before and after and not one word. I only found out because my great uncle from California posted on Facebook a few weeks ago that he is entering hospice and was so thankful his health stayed strong enough for him to see his little sister (my grandma) to her final resting place. I was confused and called my mom. She was all “Yeah, the funeral we had in July, remember?” Ya’ll, I visited them for the 4th of July. They did the funeral the 8th. Not a word about it to me. They had planned this for months. Long enough to arrange for my infirm great uncle to be brought over from the other side of the country. Apparently, they talked about it “all the time”.
Everyone is convinced I was at the funeral. They SWEAR I was there. I can prove I wasn’t because Google’s got my location history. My hubby is baffled because he was supposedly there, too, but he had to work every weekend in June and July. Time clock doesn’t lie. My family straight up forgot about me. I’m hurt. I’m sad. And they’re pissed at me “for lying”. They think I’m causing drama over nothing. Nothing I say can convince them I wasn’t there. My family is united in this. And they’ve all put me “on read” until I admit I’m wrong. They think I’ve gone nuts. Either there’s a doppelganger of me attending events, or my family doesn’t want to admit they screwed up. I’m not backing down.
Thanksgiving is coming up, and my family’s been vague posting on Facebook about “forgetful kids” and mental health. It’s so freaking weird and I don’t know if I’m in bizzaro world or what’s going on. My mom’s best friend reached out and said I should just admit I was wrong and apologize, that I’m causing my mom so much unnecessary stress. I asked her if she’s checked everyone’s home for CO2. She hung up on me. (We checked our CO2, and our testers are running just fine.) I have reached out to a few people in my home town to check in on my folks, and they all say they're fine. I even spoke with the local volunteer fire fighter group to see if they could check for gas leaks. Not sure if they were able to.
I don’t know what to do. I’ve shown them the proof I wasn’t there, but they know I’m tech savvy and just assume I’ve Photoshopped it. Hubby says we need a break, and we’re going to be staying home this holiday season.
Edit: I don't know the update rules, so I'll post updates to my profile should anyone want them.  
Update #1: November 27, 2023
Not sure how to do updates on posts, so figured I'd post anything on my profile. Folks have private messaged me and this will be easier I think?
It's 11/27 and Thanksgiving just happened. Hubby and I stayed home. We got a small turkey and made our own little thanksgiving. It was nice. We ate around noon, then watched a movie, and later sat outside with a bottle of wine to watch the sun set behind the trees and neighbor houses.
We usually take the day before off, drive to my folks, stay the night, and help with the Thanksgiving Day cooking. So it wasn't until Wednesday night that my mom broke the silence. Mom called and asked when I was showing up, and I told her we were staying home this year, but for them to have a happy Thanksgiving, and to give the rest of the family my love. She was quiet for a long time after I said that, and I think she eventually mumbled an "okay", or something, and hung up. It wasn't an angry hang up. Just a hang up. On Thanksgiving day, I sent a group "Happy Thanksgiving!" gif to our family group chat. I received a few "happy Thanksgiving"'s back. No one's said anything else. There's been no posts on Facebook.  
Update #2: December 12, 2023
So, I think I mentioned in one of my comments that my dad and I usually talk on the phone every Sunday morning. We're both early risers so we'd chat over our morning coffees and watch the sunrise. Him and I haven't really spoken since this all went down and it's been tough. I'm used to talking to him, you know?
Well, I was sitting outside in my usual spot, watching the sun rise and freezing my butt off, and he called me. I'm not entirely sure how to describe the emotions I felt. It was a mix of panic, hope, terror, happiness, and dread. I ended up answering because I just had to know what he wanted. It was an awkward conversation. He didn't address the current "drama", but instead tiptoed around the situation with all the grace of an cow on stilts. For instance, a simple "How are you doing?" Type question was answered with a "Not good." And the whole conversation would stall out for a bit because he knew why I wasn't doing well. So we ended up talking about the weather, the various winter birds we'd seen in our feeders, and the Christmas decorations around town. Things like that.
Eventually he asked if we were coming out for Christmas, and sounded sad when I told him we weren't. He asked if him and step mom could come visit us instead, and I told him it wasn't a good idea this year. That hubby and I were going to spend a quiet holiday together. I let him know he should be receiving some gifts at his PO Box any day now, so to please pick them up from the post office and put them under the family tree for everyone. He said he'd ship ours to us as well.
And that was pretty much it. No crazy drama to report. The only posts on Facebook have been the usual Christmas excitement ones, countdowns, photos of Santa, silly gift ideas, photos of company Christmas parties.
On a personal note: Hubby and I are doing alright. Our health is good, our spirits high, and we're as solid as ever. We each got Christmas bonus' at our jobs, so we're excited about that. They're not large, but we're happy to have them. We have also done advent calendars for the first time ever. I got him a Lego one, and he got me a hot chocolate one. We're going to do the calendars again next year. Maybe make a tradition out of it.
Everyone please have a safe and happy holidays.  
Inheritance: December 16, 2023
I've received a lot - A LOT - of messages and private DMs urging me to check into inheritance and such. I'm really touched a lot of Internet strangers are worried about me and I wanted to ensure everyone that inheritance is most likely not an issue here. I'd almost be relieved if it was, because then it would at least make some sense. Money does weird things to people, you know?
No one in my family is wealthy by any means. After my grandparents' passed, their small estate was used to pay for their end of life expenses and remaining assets split up. Everyone directly related got an equal split (so excluded my dad and the step parents). I don't remember the exact amount I received, but it was around $5k if I recall. My brother gave me his share, too, so I could finish paying off my college debt while the interest freeze was active.
The great uncle from California has kids and grand kids, and great grandkids of his own, and also isn't wealthy. I think one of his kids makes good money doing something in finance, but I'm not entirely sure. I can't imagine he left us anything, as we hardly knew him. My mom, aunt, and uncle only met him a few times in their lives, and my brother and I even less. Grandma and him were close, but I don't think he liked my grandpa much.  
Christmas: December 25, 2023
I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas. I've received a lot of support through my posts and I'm really grateful. Writing these updates have had a therapeutic effect.
Yesterday was Sunday, but I didn't answer my dad when he called. I just really didn't feel up to a pointless chat, so let it go to voicemail. He tried to reach me a few times throughout the day, but I didn't answer.
Our bestie last minute invited us over to his house for Christmas day lunch (today), so husband and I were busy all Christmas Eve making cookies, peanut brittle, and homemade suckers/hard candies for his kids. Mom tried to reach out as well, but I also ignored her calls.
We had a BLAST at lunch! Our friend's kids are a lot of fun to be around. They got some techy presents from their grandparents (Quest vr headset and steam decks, lucky little rascals) Friend and his wife aren't good with tech, while hubby and I are, so we helped get them set up while our friend played a good host to his folks and inlaws. The grandparents didn't realize that a Steam deck required a Steam account, so we got the kids all their own accounts set up, added them to our steam friends lists, and gifted them some games. We also bought them a few VR games for their headset, and they were off to the races with Beat Saber in no time.
As for my folks: My brother texted and asked if we could talk sometime tomorrow. I think me ignoring mom and dad has caused some kind of upset. Which they deserve.  
Brother’s call: December 26, 2023
Spoke with my brother over the phone this morning.
For starters, he apologized for everything. Him and I are good (for now). For a bit of background, my brother and I are only 2 years apart. There weren't a lot of kids around growing up, so the two of us were often stuck doing stuff together. So we have a lot of shared interests and passions. He's been pretty silent on this whole matter, but still "part of the group", if you know what I mean. I think the thought of losing him out of my life was probably the most painful, because he's always been there. He was my rock until I met my husband. He's definitely a Mama's boy, though, so anything mom wanted, he made sure she got. I'm happy to have him back.
Without further ado, here's the story from the horse's mouth:
Mom apparently had a cancer scare late last year (which no one told me about, go figure), and dad had a stint put in his heart back in January (which I did know about). This "sense of mortality" has apparently lit a fire under Mom's ass to get me back home. But since I wasn't reacting to her passive aggressive hinting, she and step mom decided to go full crazy. My great uncle's health was bad, and he'd been asking about funeral arrangements for his sister (my grandma) for a while, so the moms decided to plan it. And use the event as a giant middle finger to me. They kept all the planning pretty hush-hush between the two of them, so no one on our side of the family actually knew about the funeral until like 2 weeks before. The moms said they'd invited hubby and I. No one thought anything about it. No one thought to mention, confirm, or check with me.
The plan was to scatter the ashes, say a few words, and maybe head to town for lunch. It was a small affair. The mom's didn't even tell the family that our great uncle was coming for it. Like I said, it was a small thing. Barely a footnote. No one thought it was odd because we're pretty chill people.
4th of July happens. Hubby and I are out. No one thought to mention it, as we were all busy celebrating and having a great time. Any time the topic of "this weekend" would start, the conversation would be quickly shifted by one of the moms. We went back home.
8th of July happens. Great uncle rolls into town with a few of his kids, grandkids, and great grandkids, and it's a surprise to everyone (but the moms). Everyone drives to the maple grove and the moms have brought a ton of food and stuff. It's a full blown party. No one on my side noticed I wasn't there, because there were so many extra faces outside the usual group. They did the spreading of the ashes, they said their words, they ate, they had a great time. It wasn't until our great uncle left, and all his side left with him, that they realized I wasn't there. And hadn't been there.
And this is where the crazy went up a notch. My brother says the moms were happy no one noticed I wasn't there. And that this was proof to everyone that I needed to move back because I was so easily forgotten about. Because none of them thought to reach out, right? They basically did a ton of guilt tripping manipulation bullshit and it made everyone upset at me for not showing up. Somehow it was my fault for being excluded. So suddenly everyone was on their side with "sticking it to me".
But then a few months went by, and tempers cooled, and then I guess the horror of it set in. Followed by the shame, but by then they were "in too deep". How do you undo something like this? And since I hadn't brought it up, I guess they figured they would all just stay quiet about it and hope I never asked about a funeral.
That's when I discovered the situation from my great uncle's Facebook and called my mom, who panicked and went with the stupidest solution. Claiming I was there. Don't I remember?
I ended up talking with a few friends from high school, mentioning the situation, and word got back to those in town. So suddenly town gossip and little old church ladies got involved. Was I, or wasn't I at the funeral? Did my family forget to invite me to the funeral of the only grandparents I'd ever know? Or am I just causing a ruckus? My brother said they all just went with mom's answer. Of course they wouldn't forget me. Of course I was there. Of course they're good people. And it just snowballed.
The family expected me to eventually fold. I'm usually a nonconfrontational person, so me sticking to my guns was unexpected. And then I missed Thanksgiving. And now Christmas. With no sign of backing down. And I guess the realization that I could just stop being part of their lives is setting in and my parents are panicking. He's tried just getting them to apologize and explain, but stubbornness prevails. They want to rug sweep, but I'm not letting them.
My brother is upset with everything that's happened. He's realized just how crappy it all has been and he wants nothing to do with it anymore. But since he lives with my mom, he can't "get away from it".
He has asked if he can come stay with us for a little bit. I spoke with hubby, and he's in agreement with me that my brother can come crash in our spare bedroom for as long as he wants. Brother works remotely, so it's no trouble for him to pick up and go. I believe he's making the trip today or tomorrow. Not entirely sure, but I expect crap to hit the fan when he arrives.
On a side note, hubby's stoked that my brother and I made up. The two usually game together, but haven't due to "the situation". He's downstairs right now setting up his man cave in preparation for my brother's arrival. I'm happy to see him so excited.  
Brother's Here: December 27, 2023
My brother rolled in late last night. He'd obviously been crying and when I opened the door, he just held me and sobbed. I'd never seen him like that before and soon both of us were just standing in the doorway crying into one another. He kept apologizing. Over and over again. Said he wasn't sure why he went with it. Just kept saying sorry. Hubby got him all set up in the spare bedroom while brother and I talked. My brother's a wreck. He's always been a big guy, but he's lost a lot of weight and his clothes just hang off him. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was on drugs. We talked for a little bit before bed and he re-explained everything for my husband. I'd told hubby the story, but it was just so weird that hearing it again helped.
This morning my brother was up at dawn making some coffee and getting his work day going. Hubby's off all week (lucky) so hubby made us working folk some pancakes and bacon. So far everything's peaceful. We've decided not to answer any calls from our family. They've been made aware that he arrived safely, and that we are going to spend the New Years together, and that we're not answering any calls until January 1st. They may text if they wish. I'm sure they're losing their minds. Serves them right.
Everyone, have a safe and happy new years! Don't drink and drive!  
Happy 2024!: January 2, 2024
I hope everyone has a safe and enjoyable holidays, and may the new year be full of joy and happiness!
Not too much of an update. Things here have been quiet. My brother's settled in nicely and he's a great housemate. Our place isn't very big, but we have full basement and a nice outside patio/porch area so it doesn't feel crowded at all with the extra addition. He's a quiet and clean guy. No hassle at all. He got some fresh clothes from the Walmart, a haircut, and trimmed his beard, so he's more "presentable" now. He's a lady killer when he gets cleaned up. He's made nice with the (very nosy, but kind) retired couple next door and is adapting to "city living" nicely.
Folks back home have been mostly well behaved. There's been a few texts back and forth, as we're not answering calls. Mom mainly wants to know when brother's coming back, but he's keen on staying here for a while. Mom said I can't "keep him" and I told her he's a grown ass man and can do what he wants. Brother says he has her blocked after she ORDERED him to return home.
Brother has tentatively asked if he could stay long term, should he decide to, or at least longer than a usual visitor would stay. Which we're fine with. He has a good paying job and could afford an apartment, but he's never lived on his own and I would guess he has some anxiety about it. Should that be the case, he'll start paying us some rent and we'd probably adjust to give him the basement as his own space.  
Had to change the locks: January 17, 2024
My brother is officially staying with us for the long haul. Hubby and him spent all Sunday organizing the basement and shifting things around so he now has his own area to be comfortable in. He's pretty handy and has also started fixing little things around our house. Our windows and doors have never closed and locked/unlocked smoother. He even fixed one of the closets we never use because we can never get the darn door open. Sadly, he also had to change the locks on our house and get us all new keys.
This is because while hubby and I were out this Saturday, the moms showed up. They'd been calling and texting us all week, but we weren't really answering them, so I guess the two decided to drive over and hash it out in person. They have emergency keys to my place, and just let themselves in. Brother told them to leave, they argued, and my nosy (but kind) neighbors called the police when they noticed the commotion. So, we get a call from neighbor's wife, return home to some cops in our yard, all the neighbors out "vacuuming their trees", and my nosy (but kind) neighbors standing on my porch with my brother behind them, doing their best Gandalf "You shall not pass" impression.
Had to talk with the cops, explain that we were having a family dispute and word vomited. I don't really remember what all I said, and was shaking a lot. Our local cops are really great. Fantastic guys and gals in blue, and took it all in stride. It's really cold here, so one had me join him in his cruiser with the heat on, and gave me a bottle of water to calm down while we talked. They asked if we wanted the moms trespassed but I wasn't sure if that counted as a criminal charge so just asked the cops if they could just make them leave, which the cops did with no fuss. I think the moms were shocked we were taking this so seriously. They didn't fight or scream at us. Just left quietly.
My dad promised me he'd make sure his wife left us alone. "Or else". He said he'd also have a stern talk with my mom. Him and I talked Sunday morning, and he seemed absolutely at the end of his rope. Husband jokingly told my dad he could move in, too. To which he declined.
Not sure where to go from here, but we're getting some ring cameras installed once they arrive. And everyone but my dad is blocked. Hopefully they all just leave us alone.  
Nothing New To Report: February 2, 2024
Had a lot of DMs for updates, but don't have much anything to report on. The moms are behaving themselves. All's quiet on the western front. Felt weird ignoring or copy/pasting "no updates" to everyone, so here's what we've been doing, should anyone care.
Dad got a new bird/squirrel feeder from Amazon (looks like a little picnic table for a child's dolly but has a mesh top for the bird seed. I think it's supposed to be for chickens?) It's totes adorbs. To his horror, it also works as a Cooper hawk feeder, so now he's "fortifying his defenses" and putting up some trellises around it. He'll have to wait till warmer weather before planting anything to grow on them.
We had some ring cameras installed and put in a motion-activated camera that double functions as a light bulb. It goes in the light fixture outside the front door and is pretty cool. Video quality isn't all that great, but it's a nice addition I guess. It does overlook the bird feeders, so I've been watching it on my lunch breaks on the days I have to go into the office.
Hubby and brother are feuding. They started a coop farm in Stardew Valley a few days ago and they both want to romance Leah. My husband confided in me that he's also been romancing Sebastian as a backup. I'm not sure why he's keeping this a secret, but he's pretty smug about it.
RELEVANT COMMENTS
fractal_frog I hope your dad can outsmart the hawks!

OOP: He'll be able to, I just know it. He's used to dealing with the wildlife and having hawks about, but he just wasn't expecting one to snag a meal right from his new feeder.
I told him it was "technically" still a bird feeder. Just....for bigger birds. Which he thought was funny. He said he might make a little "no hawks allowed" sign to put up next to it.

MissOP: keep the updates coming. the moms are so close to folding it's just a little bit more. LMAO also, the bro mance between your husband and brother is so cute. lol Honestly, I think your husband making sure he has a side piece of Sebastian is absolutely the play.

OOP: So far still no word from the moms, but I hope you're right. I would love an apology and for us to begin moving past this. But I NEED that apology. I feel selfish saying that, but I refuse to "be the bigger person" on this. I just won't.
As for my brother and husband, yeah, they're basically soul mates. The two hit it off immediately when they first met, and they've been thick as thieves for years.  

Update: February 27, 2024
My dad came out for a visit over the weekend. We had a good time and the weather was lovely for some grilling and beers. It was really nice to see him again and he seemed healthy and in good spirits.
Here's his report from back home: Step mom (dad's wife) has started to realize she's screwed up. I credit her change of mindset to the fact that my dad sat her down and laid it out for her: she leaves his kids alone, or she's getting divorce papers. That apparently shut her up right quick, because they had a prenup done when they married and I'm not sure the details of it, but it wouldn't end favorably for her. She hasn't worked in years, so I imagine she'd be eligible for alimony? But I'm not versed in any of that legal mumbojumbo. Dad didn't seem too worried about it, so I'm not gonna worry about it.
Step dad was pissed the police were involved in the last "mom visit" (despite no one getting arrested or anything) and was in a "the kids are out of control and need to be reigned back in" mindset. When my dad pointed out that "the kids" in question were all in their mid-30s, it took some of the steam out of stepdad's sails. According to my dad, even my mom looked a little surprised when he said that. So, part of me is wondering if a good chunk of this whole thing is my mom not truly realizing that her kids were grown, and no longer children she could make demands of. Both of the moms have left us alone. I expected my mom to continue to kick up a fuss, but I think the cops spooked her.
There was a wonderful suggestion by a comment or to get their pastor involved, which I passed along to my dad. Dad has since spoken to their pastor about everything. He's a young guy, relatively new to their church, and joked that his first month on the job he had to do 3 funerals in a row and his new "flock" were just dying to get away from him, so he's got a sense of humor which is nice. The new pastor agreed to sit down with everyone and help the family hash it all out in a true "Come to Jesus" type moment next month, so that maybe we could celebrate Easter together as our first holiday as a family. Dad said the pastor was aware our family was having some troubles, but unsure of exactly what was going on, and since he was new, the pastor didn't want to pry. He has also agreed to do a small service down at my uncle's maple grove later in the summer, as it usually floods and is a muddy mess all spring. According to my dad, my aunt and uncle are so over all the drama and just ready to move on, so I expect hugs and apologies from them when we next meet.
Stardew Valley Update: My brother was victorious in the grand fight for Leah. It was a hard battle. Well fought. When my husband exposed his plans to woo Sebastian all this time, it was quite the betrayal. Dramatics aside, their farm is really cute and I'm so happy they're enjoying the game!  
Update 4/1 - Final one I think - April 1, 2024
Happy April Fools everyone! I hope you all check your caramel apples for stray onions before taking a bite! I also hope your Easter weekend was a delightful one.
It is with great joy that I tell you all about our most recent update! Possibly even a conclusion to this whole ordeal.
The entire family (aunt, uncle, moms, dads, brother, me, husband) and pastor met at my dad's house and we all sat down to hash the situation out. As expected from what my dad said, my aunt and uncle greeted us all with apologies and hugs, which was nice. My uncle usually helps host the Easter egg hunts with the church and he brought our Easter baskets to give to us in case us kids weren't sticking around the for the weekend. I'm not sure why but seeing it made me tear up and feel stupid, because it was just a basket of candy but it meant a lot to me for some reason.
The pastor led us in a prayer and talked about forgiveness and such. He then asked us all to talk one at a time about how we're feeling and what we want the end result of today to be. No one was allowed to interrupt so everyone got to talk. It was nice. The consensus for the group was that most everyone wanted things to go back to "normal". The only ones who had any variance off this was my mom and step dad. They both wanted all us kids to move back to the area.
The pastor asked them why they wanted us back, and neither could give a good reason other than "because family", and the pastor asked us if we were thriving where we were. And we said we were. He asked if we were happy there. Which we were. He then asked my mom and step dad if they wanted us to give up our happiness to make them happy.
And Mom broke down and said no. We all had a good cry. The pastor then asked about the funeral and lies that led up to it and followed it and how it made us all feel and what we wished we'd done differently if we had the chance. It was all very emotional, but in a good way, you know? Everyone apologized and admitted they f-ed up and did a really crappy thing.
We all talked for a long, long time and the pastor was a great mediator. Eventually we all reached some sort of resolution and I think we're good now. Emotions are still high and a little raw in areas, but we stayed for Easter weekend and had a nice time. We're going to keep moving forward slowly and try to repair the relationship, but I believe we're well and truly out of the woods.
As for my brother, he's still staying with us, and mom will stop trying to guilt trip him back home. He's thinking about renting a small apartment in our area but we're not pushing him to make a decision. He knows he's welcome to stay as long as he wants. I think he wants to try dating (he's had a few girlfriends but never anything serious) and is embarrassed to bring any girls around our place, lol. He's been going to a few random classes/bookclubs at the local library for something free to do and hitting it off with all the little old ladies who attend, and they keep trying to hook him up with girls his age who they know. He has been on a few lunches/coffee dates with a couple girls, but I think he's too embarrassed by the attention to give it a real try at "dating" any of them. He's happy, though, which is all I could ask for.
I'm not sure if there will be any more updates, as I think it's all be resolved about as much as it can be at the moment. I wanted to thank you all for your words of advice and giving me a place to vent and scream into the void. Please be kind to one another and to yourselves. Thank you.
Relevant Comments
emjkr: What a nice and hopeful update, I’m really glad you stuck to your guns when everyone threw sanity out the window!
But, could your mother explain how she thought this would work out in her favour?

OOP: I don't think mom thought too far ahead. I believe she assumed it would all just magically work out the way she wanted it to. She said she wasn't sure what she was expecting to happen (which I think was a lie, but I wasn't going to push it).

mak_zaddy: This was a great update! But ummmmmm no stardew valley update? What gives? Has Sebastian been woo’ed? How’s Leah? What’s happening?

OOP: Sebastian has indeed been wooed (and whoohooed) There's kids and cows and chickens. The two are still having a wonderful time at the game. They're working on completing the community center but it's slow going as they aren't trying to speedrun and just doing things as they want. I believe they're thinking about going into the desert mines once they complete that bundle, but they're both super chicken shit about it!

-my-cabbages: I don't really understand what you had to apologize for ... but I'm glad you're happy and the situation seems to be settling down

OOP: There wasn't much of an apology on my end, as everyone agreed I had done nothing wrong. Mine was more of a "I'm sorry you didn't feel as though I would listen." Type apology, which I don't really believe is a proper apology because apologies like that push the blame back on another. I mostly expressed my feelings and the shock of it all, and how betrayed I felt.  

----NEW UPDATE----

Small, happy update: May 7, 2024 (1 month later)
Things as wonderful as the moment. Still doing baby steps with The Moms. We're texting and talking on the phones more, which is nice. Very civil.
Dad "accidentally" bought a bunch of hand crafted bird feeders at a craft fair. By accidentally, I mean: he had a little too much fun in the beer tent, went for a stroll while step mom wasn't looking, and stumbled upon a guy's booth and bought "one of each". He wouldn't tell me how MANY "one of each" was, but he cackled like a witch when I asked. Step mom said she's forcing him to give a few to me, so I'm expecting a delivery or a Dad-visit any day now.
My brother is officially "going steady" with a girl. We've met her a few times and she seems like a real sweetheart. She's our age and has a little boy (5-6 years old, I haven't asked) from a previous relationship (The dad's not in the picture from what I can gather). She's the granddaughter of one of his Book Club members, so the old ladies made good match makers in the end. The relationship is still very new and I'm routing for them.
No new Stardew Valley updates. Work has been a little crazy lately and I haven't been able to play much of anything, and brother has been distracted by his new lady friend. So, husband finally started Baldur's Gate 3, and fell for Gale's "magic trick" so now those two are a thing. I expect him to be sufficiently distracted from reality for the next few weeks.
 

DO NOT COMMENT IN LINKED POSTS OR MESSAGE OOPs – BoRU Rule #7

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I'd love to start a list of weather events so that if someone didn't know about them, they could find out! I'm not including things that don't affect the environment beyond Town Square (such as Halloween, Turkey Day, and Valentine's Day) or gatherables dependent on weather (such as seasonal recipes or critters).
Weather forecast can be see on in-game TVs the preceding day at 06:14-06:29, 07:45-07:58, and 22:45-22:58. Here is a comparison of foliage in each season.

Year-Round

• Weather-related dialogue from villagers
• Double rainbow after hours of rain, appearing for an hour between 11:00-15:00, starting faint and growing in intensity before fading away again
• Precipitation will cause flowers to spawn the next day
• Sometimes stars shoot across mostly cleaclear skies and may be "wished" upon
• Sometimes there will be a meteor shower (which Isabelle will announce if there isn't anything pressing going on) where many stars shoot across the sky at night and may be wished upon; Celeste will also visit during meteor showers

Spring

Northern Hemisphere: March-May
Southern Hemisphere: September-November

• Greenery:
  • Grass and foliage brightens to a vibrant green as the season progresses
  • Bark is a tannelighter brown
  • Weeds become bright green and incorporate white and purple flowers
  • Sakura/Cherry Blossoms: 1-10 [April/October]
    • Sakura/cherry blossoms bloom on all hardwood trees
    • Catchable petals (crafting material) float through the air
    • Non-catchable petals fill the air and rivers 7-10 [April/October]
    • Hardwood trees' bark is a grey-brown during this time, resembling actual cherry/sakura trees
    • Petals can be seen falling outside the museum's windows by the art wing's entrance
  • Shrubs:
    • Northern Hemisphere:
    • Southern hemisphere
• Rain:
  • Rain can fall but generally isn't very heavy
  • It patters on window panes, umbrellas, etc
  • Player's footsteps splash
  • Ambient music incorporates a marimba
• Besides during sakura/cherry blossom time, green leaves can be seen falling outside the museum's windows by the art wing's entrance

Honorable mentions

• Loading screen island's grass is light green
• Northern hemisphere only: Bunny Day will cause decorated eggs to spawn in the water, on and in trees, from rocks, in balloon gifts, and in the ground for the week before and on the Protestant Christian holiday Easter

Summer

Northern Hemisphere: June-August
Southern Hemisphere: December-February

• Greenery:
  • Grass and foliage are a deep green
  • Bark is a bright brown/tan
  • Weeds are deep green and incorporate dandelion blooms and white flowers
  • Shrubs:
    • Northern hemisphere
    • Southern hemisphere
• Precipitaiton:
  • Rain can fall
  • Occasional thunderstorms occur
    • Rain is at about a 45º angle from the ground
    • Sky is very dark
    • Occasional thunder booming
    • Lightening flashes, flooding the sky and surroundings with bright light for a few seconds
    • Ambient music incorporates a marimba when it rains
    • Rain patters on window panes
• Blue Summer Shells (crafting material) spawn on the beaches
• Green leaves can be seen falling outside the museum's windows by the art wing's entrance

Honorable mentions

• Loading screen island's grass is deep green
• Northern hemisphere only: Fireworks happen every Sunday in August around the Japanese celebration of hanabi taikai 19:00-21:00
• Southern hemisphere only: Fireworks once the ball drops on New Year's Day (after midnight)

Autumn

Northern Hemisphere: September-November
Southern Hemisphere: March-May

• Greenery:
  • Grass and foliage begin to fade to yellow-brown shades
  • Grass sounds crunchier
  • Weeds are brown with grain stalks
  • Trees:
    • The hardwood and fruit trees turn shades of orange and red that are locked to the ground block (so if you dig up a hardwood or fruit tree and swap it with another, it will take on the shade of the tree that was previously there) which dull to brown once the maple leaves finish falling
    • Maple Leaves: 16-25 [NovembeMay]
  • Shrubs:
    • Northern hemisphere only:
    • Southern hemisphere only:
• Precipitation:
  • Rain:
    • Rain can fall but generally isn't very heavy
    • It patters on window panes, umbrellas, etc
    • Player's footsteps splash
    • Ambient music incorporates a marimba
  • Mid/late [NovembeMay]: snow fall starts; the ambient music has sleigh bells incorporated in
• Mushrooms (crafting/cooking material) spawn in [NovembeMay] below trees on and in the ground
• Maple leaves can be seen falling outside the museum's windows by the art wing's entrance

Honorable mentions

• Loading screen island's grass is yellow-green
• Southern hemisphere only: Bunny Day will cause decorated eggs to spawn in the water, on and in trees, from rocks, in balloon gifts, and in the ground for the week before and on the Protestant Christian holiday Easter.

Winter

Northern Hemisphere: December-February
Southern Hemisphere: June-August

• Greenery:
  • Grass and foliage, when visible, are a dull grey-green; when covered in snow and ice, a pale blue-green
  • Bark is a dull grey-brown/tan
  • Weeds are short and a dull green; if the ground is covered in snow, so are they
  • Shrubs
    • Northern hemisphere
    • Southern hemisphere
• Snow:
  • Mid/late [NovembeMay]: snow fall starts
  • 11 [DecembeJune] until early [February/August]:
    • Crunchy snow covering forms on the ground
    • Catchable snowflakes (crafting material) float through the air
    • Sand turns pale
    • Snowballs spawn, which can be rolled into 2-tier snowfolk
    • Snow collects on windowsills and this can be seen from the inside and outside of buildings
  • Mid/late February: Some snow showers without sticking to the ground and without catchable flakes
  • When it snows, the music has sleigh bells incorporated into it
• Aurora Borealis can sometimes be seen on clear nights
• Snow can be seen falling outside the museum's windows by the art wing's entrance

Honorable mentions

• Loading screen island is covered in snow when snow covers the ground
• Northern hemisphere only: Ornaments appear on random cedar trees 16 December-7 January; if a tree is dug up the ornaments are removed from that tree for the rest of the season.
• Northern hemisphere only: Confetti falls from the sky and feathers float through the air on Festivale (two days before the Catholic holiday Ash Wednesday).
• Northern hemisphere only: Fireworks once the ball drops on New Year's Day (after midnight).
• Southern hemisphere only: Fireworks happen every Sunday in August around the Japanese celebration of hanabi taikai 19:00-21:00.

Contributors:

I'd love to start a list of weather events so that if someone didn't know about them, they could find out! I'm not including things that don't affect the environment beyond Town Square (such as Halloween, Turkey Day, and Valentine's Day) or gatherables dependent on weather (such as seasonal recipes or critters).
Weather forecast can be see on in-game TVs the preceding day at 06:14-06:29, 07:45-07:58, and 22:45-22:58. Here is a comparison of foliage in each season.

Year-Round

• Weather-related dialogue from villagers
• Double rainbow after hours of rain, appearing for an hour between 11:00-15:00, starting faint and growing in intensity before fading away again
• Precipitation will cause flowers to spawn the next day
• Sometimes stars shoot across mostly cleaclear skies and may be "wished" upon
• Sometimes there will be a meteor shower (which Isabelle will announce if there isn't anything pressing going on) where many stars shoot across the sky at night and may be wished upon; Celeste will also visit during meteor showers

Spring

Northern Hemisphere: March-May
Southern Hemisphere: September-November

• Greenery:
  • Grass and foliage brightens to a vibrant green as the season progresses
  • Bark is a tannelighter brown
  • Weeds become bright green and incorporate white and purple flowers
  • Spring bamboo will randomly drop when chopping bamboo trees all spring - remember to use a wood or stone axe if you don’t want to completely drop the tree
  • Sakura/Cherry Blossoms: 1-10 [April/October]
    • Sakura/cherry blossoms bloom on all hardwood trees
    • Catchable petals (crafting material) float through the air
    • Non-catchable petals fill the air and rivers 7-10 [April/October]
    • Hardwood trees' bark is a grey-brown during this time, resembling actual cherry/sakura trees
    • Petals can be seen falling outside the museum's windows by the art wing's entrance
  • Shrubs:
    • Northern Hemisphere:
    • Southern hemisphere
• Rain:
  • Rain can fall but generally isn't very heavy
  • It patters on window panes, umbrellas, etc
  • Player's footsteps splash
  • Ambient music incorporates a marimba
• Besides during sakura/cherry blossom time, green leaves can be seen falling outside the museum's windows by the art wing's entrance

Honorable mentions

• Loading screen island's grass is light green
• Northern hemisphere only: Bunny Day will cause decorated eggs to spawn in the water, on and in trees, from rocks, in balloon gifts, and in the ground for the week before and on the Protestant Christian holiday Easter

Summer

Northern Hemisphere: June-August
Southern Hemisphere: December-February

• Greenery:
  • Grass and foliage are a deep green
  • Bark is a bright brown/tan
  • Weeds are deep green and incorporate dandelion blooms and white flowers
  • Shrubs:
    • Northern hemisphere
    • Southern hemisphere
• Precipitaiton:
  • Rain can fall
  • Occasional thunderstorms occur
    • Rain is at about a 45º angle from the ground
    • Sky is very dark
    • Occasional thunder booming
    • Lightening flashes, flooding the sky and surroundings with bright light for a few seconds
    • Ambient music incorporates a marimba when it rains
    • Rain patters on window panes
• Blue Summer Shells (crafting material) spawn on the beaches
• Green leaves can be seen falling outside the museum's windows by the art wing's entrance

Honorable mentions

• Loading screen island's grass is deep green
• Northern hemisphere only: Fireworks happen every Sunday in August around the Japanese celebration of hanabi taikai 19:00-21:00
• Southern hemisphere only: Fireworks once the ball drops on New Year's Day (after midnight)

Autumn

Northern Hemisphere: September-November
Southern Hemisphere: March-May

• Greenery:
  • Grass and foliage begin to fade to yellow-brown shades
  • Grass sounds crunchier
  • Weeds are brown with grain stalks
  • Trees:
    • The hardwood and fruit trees turn shades of orange and red that are locked to the ground block (so if you dig up a hardwood or fruit tree and swap it with another, it will take on the shade of the tree that was previously there) which dull to brown once the maple leaves finish falling
    • Maple Leaves: 16-25 [NovembeMay]
  • Shrubs:
    • Northern hemisphere only:
    • Southern hemisphere only:
• Precipitation:
  • Rain:
    • Rain can fall but generally isn't very heavy
    • It patters on window panes, umbrellas, etc
    • Player's footsteps splash
    • Ambient music incorporates a marimba
  • Mid/late [NovembeMay]: snow fall starts; the ambient music has sleigh bells incorporated in
• Mushrooms (crafting/cooking material) spawn in [NovembeMay] below trees on and in the ground
• Maple leaves can be seen falling outside the museum's windows by the art wing's entrance

Honorable mentions

• Loading screen island's grass is yellow-green
• Southern hemisphere only: Bunny Day will cause decorated eggs to spawn in the water, on and in trees, from rocks, in balloon gifts, and in the ground for the week before and on the Protestant Christian holiday Easter.

Winter

Northern Hemisphere: December-February
Southern Hemisphere: June-August

• Greenery:
  • Grass and foliage, when visible, are a dull grey-green; when covered in snow and ice, a pale blue-green
  • Bark is a dull grey-brown/tan
  • Weeds are short and a dull green; if the ground is covered in snow, so are they
  • Shrubs
    • Northern hemisphere
    • Southern hemisphere
• Snow:
  • Mid/late [NovembeMay]: snow fall starts
  • 11 [DecembeJune] until early [February/August]:
    • Crunchy snow covering forms on the ground
    • Catchable snowflakes (crafting material) float through the air
    • Sand turns pale
    • Snowballs spawn, which can be rolled into 2-tier snowfolk
    • Snow collects on windowsills and this can be seen from the inside and outside of buildings
  • Mid/late February: Some snow showers without sticking to the ground and without catchable flakes
  • When it snows, the music has sleigh bells incorporated into it
• Aurora Borealis can sometimes be seen on clear nights
• Snow can be seen falling outside the museum's windows by the art wing's entrance

Honorable mentions

• Loading screen island is covered in snow when snow covers the ground
• Northern hemisphere only: Ornaments appear on random cedar trees 16 December-7 January; if a tree is dug up the ornaments are removed from that tree for the rest of the season.
• Northern hemisphere only: Confetti falls from the sky and feathers float through the air on Festivale (two days before the Catholic holiday Ash Wednesday).
• Northern hemisphere only: Fireworks once the ball drops on New Year's Day (after midnight).
• Southern hemisphere only: Fireworks happen every Sunday in August around the Japanese celebration of hanabi taikai 19:00-21:00.

Contributors:

Yosef Nachmani ducked beneath the bannister of the innocuous home, adorned with photos of weddings and immaculate Arabic calligraphy. He had been an agent of the State of Israel before its conception, yet there was not a document of identification to be found on him now. If the Saudi authorities in Beirut found him, or, worse yet, his body, they would take him for yet another Jewish victim of the pogroms that had spread across the Fertile Crescent since time immemorial. Yet, his mission today was of paramount importance, one that, to his mind, held the potential to define the future of not merely the State of Israel but the Middle East as a whole, but to make an omelet, eggs must be cracked, and Nachmani was Mossad’s best.
It had been he who had brought Sheikh Amin Tarif to the side of Israel, brought Tarif’s Druze people, never content under the Saudi yolk, to fight for Israel in rates as high as the Jews themselves. It had been he who, months ago, had shook Tarif’s hand once more, for as the Druze of Palestine once rose with Israeli support, so now would the million spread across Lebanon and the Levant. Already cartons of surplus American firearms and ammunition were appearing in not merely the Druze villages, but those of the Alawites, three million strong, concentrated upon Syria’s west coast, where Saleh al-Ali was already planning the foundations of a republic for his people to replace the boot of Wahhabi oppression.
A million Assyrians and Yazidis lived spread across the Northern fringes of Saudi Arabia and autonomous Kurdistan, their communities deeply secretive. Saudi authorities had been lost in the land of two rivers where these people had lived for millennia when Shimun XXIII Eshai secretly returned to the Nineveh Plains from years in exile pleading the Assyrian cause to the nations of the West. Their leader among them, and soft alliances formed with Mir Tahseen Said of the neighboring Yazidis who shared a revulsion for the twin yolks of the House of Saud and descendants of Saladeen, violence had already begun to break out in the Nineveh Plain among Assyrians after Easter, indeed, Saudi forces had already moved north to Ezidistan, planning, doubtless, to crucify those they labeled “devil worshippers” until the minority group learned its way; they would be in for a dark surprise.
Of course, what none of the non-Islamic minorities Israel had been working with knew was that, just as tacitly, Mossad had pushed Khashif al-Ghita to lead an uprising among the millions of Shi’a that formed the majority in vast swaths of the Saudi realm. The Shias had no goodwill for the other minorities, least of all perhaps the Jews, but they would be indispensable to breaking the back of Saudi Wahhabism. As for what was to follow, well, Mossad would approach that bridge when they reached it.
The future on his mind, Yosef snapped back into reality, looking into the eyes of the three men he was here to meet: Faoud Chehab, Pierre Gemayel, and William Hawi, leaders of the Ketaeb Party, commonly known as the Phalange, the pre-eminent group among the nationalist Lebanese Christians known as Maronites. Nachmani was always somewhat uncomfortable with them, their sympathies to Integralism, their books on Americans such as Frederick Dent Grant and myriads of Middle Eastern and European leaders who, he was acutely aware, would have had nothing to do with the portly Mossad agent’s people. Yet, the Maronites, located just north of the newfound Jewish state, were perhaps the most important piece of this puzzle for Israeli interests. For one, the Phalange had more political organization and trained militias than any of the village squads Nachmani had found among the Assyrians, Druze, Alawites, Yazidis, and even Shi’a; and who could forget the world’s love for Lebanon? The Catholicism of the Maronites gave them a global audience in any struggle, and a Maronite state alongside one for the Alawites would give Israel an unbroken chain of allies upon the Levantine Coast. Knowing that there was little time to spare, with uprisings beginning elsewhere and the Phalange armed and ready, Nachmani sat down to guarantee the next nail in the Saudi coffin.
The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia had promised to destroy Israel, but Yosef Nachmani, said to himself, the first seeds had now bloomed of their own demise.