I’m hoping to create a professional development about respecting students with disabilities for the upcoming school year and want to make sure I hit ALLLLL of the bullet points to ensure dignity, respect, safety, and joy for these students. Please write below what you think is ESSENTIAL for discussion. I was brain storming in the shower and this is what I have so far: what stimming is (I’m someone who believes in helping a student meet their sensory needs, so I allow time for sensory activities and self-stimulatory behavior), behavior is communication, how to interact with a student in the midst of a behavior, trauma, no touching a student without consent, quotes from non-speaking individuals (because non-speaking does NOT mean the person does not have language), and absolutely DO NOT remove an AAC device from a student’s reach. Ever. That’s their voice. You can’t just turn yours off. What else can I cover?! I want to make a lasting impression that leads to inclusion and acceptance in my school. Thank you!

I know that she isn't exactly the strongest female character like Mulan nor the most complex necessarily but I find her to be so relatable and to be honest, I think there should definitely be space for this kind of representation. She's fun, funny and I think she does a nice contribution in helping Tarza discovering himself.
I think what's interesting about her is how she pretty much depicts this thing that is often criticized about women who just enjoy stuff like sex novels where there are troubling aspects of relationships which wouldn't be okay in a real-life setting. Works like "Twilight" and "Fifty Shades of Grey" where the female lead's space is not always respected and is forced into exploring this sexual journey with the forceful fantasy bf. There's a great video where Contrapoints talks in detail about this phenomenon, which I'm gonna leave the link to in here: https://youtu.be/bqloPw5wp48?si=5e3igMUK7HXSqLWd
But basically Jane Porter is put into a dangerous situation with the monkeys where Tarzan obtains his big scene in which he saves Jane so they get to meet and eventually fall in love with each other. As it is explicitly shown, Tarzan doesn't understand boundaries (with him being a monkey man and all). The movie is pretty much aware about the whole idea that it wouldn't be okay for some guy to act weird like getting close to her face to inspect her and removing her sock to touch her feet. But ultimately, Jane Porter likes this situation she's in. She came for this jungle to find something exotic and special that her mundane life in England cannot give her. But Tarzan can force her to explore something new and exciting for her. To swing around and educate this bizzare man who was raised by gorillas where she fulfills this power fantasy where she gets to saved and attracted to the monkey man as she is able to be the one to educate him about the human world. She gets to give him a reason to explore his identity and to eventually obtain the respect of his adoptive father through his conflict against Gideon.
There's kind of a beautiful empowerment to that. That a woman is just allowed to enjoy herself and her fantasies, even if it might seem questionable, not make her look very empowering and may not be the most productive thing she could do for everyone. This is a journey for her to indulge and that's okay. This is a situation she could never get anywhere except in those novels. She wants to enjoy it and doesn't care if others ridicule her for her tastes. If she wants to be in the jungle with monkey man, then she can be in the jungle with monkey man.
People often become too preoccupied about women having supposedly troubling fantasies. That it can only come with the bad like trauma and self-misogyny. But Jane from what we can tell is pretty much fine. Her father is pretty supportive about her indulgences in a very wholesome way. When he sees her drawing Tarzan on chalkboard as she gets aroused about his sexyness and when she asks that she doesn't wanna come back to England to instead stay with Tarzan, the chad doesn't judge her and completely respects her choiced. She's just kind of a curious nerd who just wants to see something cool like gorillas and it turns out, she finds something a little bit more that she loves.
Idk, I just thought that was a super cool thing to present in the movie and I do rarely ever see that support of "cringe" for what a person likes try out on their own. Jane is a great character and I respect the movie for the way she was written.

Delhi To Akshardham Temple Tour Packages
Delhi, the heart of India, is a city that seamlessly blends ancient history with modernity. Its bustling streets, historic landmarks, and vibrant culture make it a favorite destination for travelers from around the globe. Among its many attractions, the Akshardham Temple stands out as a marvel of modern architecture and spiritual tranquility. For those looking to explore this magnificent temple, Travel House Delhi offers the best “Delhi to Akshardham Temple tour packages”, ensuring a seamless and enriching experience.
Why Visit Akshardham Temple?
Akshardham Temple, officially known as Swaminarayan Akshardham, is more than just a place of worship; it is a cultural complex that celebrates Indian art, heritage, and spirituality. Opened in 2005, this temple has quickly become one of Delhi's most visited landmarks, attracting millions of visitors each year. Its breathtaking architecture, intricate carvings, and serene environment provide a perfect escape from the hustle and bustle of the city.
Features of Akshardham Temple

1. Architectural Grandeur: The temple's architecture is a sight to behold. Made of pink sandstone and white marble, it showcases traditional Indian design with intricate carvings that depict various deities, saints, and motifs. The central monument, standing at 141 feet high, is a masterpiece that reflects the essence of ancient Indian craftsmanship.
   
2. Spiritual Exhibitions: Akshardham offers several exhibitions that provide insights into Hindu spirituality and Indian culture. The 'Sahaj Anand Water Show,' 'Sanskruti Vihar Boat Ride,' and 'Yagnapurush Kund' are some of the highlights that captivate visitors with their storytelling and visual appeal.
   
3. Garden of India: Also known as Bharat Upavan, this garden is adorned with bronze statues of great Indian personalities. It is a place for reflection and relaxation, surrounded by lush greenery and beautiful fountains.
   
4. Musical Fountain: The Yagnapurush Kund is home to a large musical fountain that showcases a captivating light and sound show in the evening. This performance, known as the 'Sahaj Anand Water Show,' narrates a story from the Kena Upanishad through a mesmerizing blend of water, light, and sound.
   

Why Choose Travel House Delhi for Your Akshardham Temple Tour?
Travel House Delhi is renowned for its well-curated tour packages that cater to the diverse needs of travelers. Here’s why their Delhi to Akshardham Temple tour packages stand out:

1. Comprehensive Itinerary: Travel House Delhi ensures that every aspect of the trip is meticulously planned. From pick-up and drop-off services to guided tours and comfortable transportation, they take care of all the details, allowing you to relax and enjoy the experience.
   
2. Expert Guides: The tour packages include the services of knowledgeable guides who provide valuable insights into the history, architecture, and spiritual significance of Akshardham Temple. Their engaging narratives make the visit more enriching and informative.
   
3. Customizable Packages: Understanding that every traveler has unique preferences, Travel House Delhi offers customizable tour packages. Whether you prefer a half-day tour or a full-day excursion, they can tailor the itinerary to suit your schedule and interests.
   
4. Hassle-Free Experience: From booking tickets to navigating through the temple complex, Travel House Delhi handles all logistical aspects. Their efficient services ensure a hassle-free experience, allowing you to focus solely on the beauty and serenity of Akshardham.
   

Detailed Tour Packages

1. Half-Day Tour Package:

Morning Departure: The tour begins with a morning pick-up from your hotel or a designated location in Delhi. Travel House Delhi provides comfortable and air-conditioned transportation to ensure a pleasant journey.
Guided Temple Tour: Upon arrival at Akshardham Temple, an expert guide will take you through the various sections of the temple complex. You’ll explore the main monument, the spiritual exhibitions, and the garden, learning about the temple's history and cultural significance.
Leisure Time: After the guided tour, you’ll have some leisure time to explore the temple at your own pace. You can visit the souvenir shop, relax in the garden, or meditate in the serene environment.
Return Journey: The tour concludes with a comfortable drive back to your hotel or the designated drop-off point in Delhi.

1. Full-Day Tour Package:

Morning Departure and Guided Temple Tour: Similar to the half-day package, the full-day tour starts with a morning pick-up and a guided tour of the temple. You’ll explore all major attractions, including the central monument, exhibitions, and garden.
Lunch Break: A delightful lunch break is included in the package, where you can savor delicious Indian cuisine at a nearby restaurant. This break provides an opportunity to relax and refuel before continuing your exploration.
Extended Exploration: Post-lunch, the tour resumes with extended exploration of the temple complex. You can participate in additional activities, such as the boat ride or the musical fountain show, which are not covered in the half-day tour.
Evening Musical Fountain Show: One of the highlights of the full-day tour is the 'Sahaj Anand Water Show' in the evening. This spectacular show is a must-see, and experiencing it after sunset adds a magical touch to the tour.
Return Journey: The tour concludes with a comfortable ride back to your hotel, leaving you with unforgettable memories of Akshardham Temple.

1. Customizable Tour Package:

Travel House Delhi offers customizable tour packages to cater to individual preferences. You can choose the duration of your tour, the specific activities you want to include, and any additional services you may require. This flexibility ensures a personalized experience that aligns perfectly with your interests and schedule.
Benefits of Choosing Travel House Delhi

1. Affordable Pricing: Travel House Delhi offers competitive pricing for their tour packages, ensuring excellent value for money. Their transparent pricing structure means there are no hidden costs, allowing you to plan your trip within your budget.
   
2. Quality Service: Customer satisfaction is a top priority for Travel House Delhi. Their professional and courteous staff are dedicated to providing top-notch service, ensuring a smooth and enjoyable experience from start to finish.
   
3. Safety and Comfort: Safety and comfort are paramount during the tours. Travel House Delhi uses well-maintained vehicles and experienced drivers to ensure a safe journey. Additionally, their guides are well-versed in first aid and emergency procedures, providing an added layer of security.
   
4. Cultural Immersion: The tours are designed to offer a deep cultural immersion. From the knowledgeable guides who share fascinating stories to the interactive exhibitions at the temple, every aspect of the tour is crafted to provide a rich cultural experience.
   

How to Book Your Tour
Booking a Delhi to Akshardham Temple tour package with Travel House Delhi is simple and convenient. You can visit their official website here to explore the available packages and make a reservation. The website provides detailed information about each package, including pricing, itinerary, and inclusions.
For personalized assistance, you can also contact their customer service team via phone or email. The friendly and knowledgeable staff are always ready to help you choose the perfect tour package and answer any queries you may have.
Testimonials from Satisfied Customers

1. An Unforgettable Experience: “We had an unforgettable experience with Travel House Delhi’s Akshardham Temple tour. The guide was incredibly knowledgeable, and the entire tour was well-organized. The temple is breathtaking, and the musical fountain show was the highlight of our trip. Highly recommend it!” – Rajesh and Anjali, Mumbai
   
2. Seamless and Enjoyable: “Travel House Delhi made our visit to Akshardham Temple seamless and enjoyable. From the comfortable transport to the insightful guided tour, everything was perfect. The customizable package allowed us to spend extra time at the temple, which we appreciated. Great value for money!” – Sarah and Michael, London
   
3. Cultural Immersion at its Best: “Akshardham Temple is a must-visit, and Travel House Delhi’s tour package made it even better. The guide’s stories and explanations added so much depth to our visit. We loved the exhibitions and the peaceful gardens. It was a wonderful cultural immersion.” – Priya and Amit, Bangalore
   

Conclusion
A visit to Akshardham Temple is a journey into the heart of Indian culture, spirituality, and architectural brilliance. Travel House Delhi meticulously curated tour packages provide the perfect way to experience this magnificent temple. With their comprehensive itineraries, expert guides, and top-notch service, you are assured of a memorable and enriching experience.
Whether you choose a half-day, full-day, or customizable tour package, Travel House Delhi ensures that your visit to Akshardham Temple is not only convenient but also deeply fulfilling. Book your tour today and embark on a spiritual and cultural adventure that will leave you with lasting memories.

I am looking for some book recommendations that can help me be more efficient speaker and communicator. Something that works well in application, well-suited for today's time, and not just as philosophies and theories.
Context- I can be a wordy person, and don't always have the best vocab recall (and English is my second language) so I use more words to replace the ones I can't recall. And so, sometimes that becomes too stretched for people. The sentence structures have also started coming less naturally to me than before so I always have to think consciously while speaking (not very effective when your job entails a lot of public speaking). And I have a bit of social anxiety so I am always self-conscious and sometimes miss to judge how my communication is being received, especially the non-verbal cues. This eventually makes me less confident and more apologetic.

There is a severe lack of understanding about this community, including among mental health providers and social workers. Stigma, bias, and misconceptions prevent those who are attracted to minors (but do not offend) from seeking help they may need.
CSA = child sexual abuse
NoMAPs = non-offending, minor attracted people: those who are attracted to children but are committed to not causing harm against them
Many non-offending MAPs do not seek professional support, or may withdraw from support, due to the following reasons:

• They are worried that they will be unjustly reported, despite having done nothing wrong (this is based on many cases where professionals misunderstand mandatory reporting laws and report someone to the police just for disclosing their attraction)
• They do not want to be judged by the provider (many therapists, social workers, etc. have intensely negative reactions to clients disclosing their attractions and draw inaccurate conclusions about them based on that disclosure)
• They do not believe their own goals will be met (providers often make CSA prevention the main focus, even when this is not the client’s stated goal. This treats clients as if they are “ticking time bombs” and is not person-centered)
• They do not want to be subjected to attempts to “cure” them of their attractions, or to convert them into teliophiles, which is shown to be ineffective and harmful

Those in the social work and mental health fields can address common misconceptions about this group, as a way to encourage MAPs to get help when they need it. Greater education and understanding about MAPs increases their well-being while also contributing to the prevention of CSA.
Common questions
Are you saying child sexual abuse is acceptable?
Absolutely not. Causing harm to children in the form of in-person/online sexual contact; CSAM (sometimes referred to as child pornography); grooming; or any other inappropriate behavior is not and will never be acceptable.
Many people who are attracted to minors are vehemently against these forms of harm as well, and do not support ideas such as lowering the age of consent. There are entire communities of minor attracted people who are committed to not harming children.
Isn’t using the term ‘MAPs’ normalizing pedophilia?
Only a minority of the population experiences a primary attraction to children. In this sense, pedophilia and other forms of minor attraction are not “normal”, in the same way that LBGTQ identities are not “normal” by proportion to the general population.
When people refer to normalizing something, they are usually talking about removing the stigma behind it, or acknowledging that it is acceptable.
Having an unchosen, unchangeable attraction to children is not inherently wrong, immoral, predatory, or pathological. It becomes so only when harm is involved. Attraction itself is not a behavior.
Shouldn’t we be protecting children from MAPs?
We should absolutely protect children from abusers, groomers, and predators. These terms are not synonymous with being minor attracted. In fact, research shows that the majority of child sexual abuse cases are carried out by people who do not meet the criteria for pedophilia (see “Sources” section below for reference).
When somebody feels they are at risk for harming a child, they should be able to seek immediate and effective help. Some NoMAPs need temporary or ongoing support in remaining resilient against offending, but this does not represent all or even the majority of NoMAPs. Many in this community have no intention of ever harming a child, and they are not at risk for doing so.
It is also important to note that many MAPs are still children themselves. MAPs tend to become aware of their attractions around the time of puberty or early adolescence. Children who are MAPs deserve the same degree of safety and well-being that other children do.
Why is the term ‘MAP’ even used?
This term has become more widely used for two main reasons:

1. It emphasizes attraction over action. The word ‘pedophile’ has become so conflated with ‘offender’ in every sector of our society, that most people assume a behavioral component when they hear the word. ‘Minor attracted person’, on the other hand, emphasizes that we are talking about those with an attraction, which includes both those who do and those who do not act on it.

Because there are MAPs who are also offenders, the term ‘Non-offending Minor Attracted Person’ (NoMAP) is useful when we are talking specifically about those who have an attraction but do not act on it.

1. ‘MAP’ is also a more accurate, all-encompassing way to refer to the community as a whole. This includes people with infantophilia, pedophilia, and (ep)hebephilia. It would not make sense, for example, to call someone who is primarily attracted to 15-18 year olds a pedophile.

However, many people do not self-identify with the term ‘MAP’. Some identify as pedophiles, hebephiles, boy lovers, girl lovers, or other terms. Some may use multiple terms to describe themselves. What’s important is that we should honor how each individual person self-identifies their attraction, and not impose a label on them.
Alternatives have also been suggested by those who conduct research with this community, such as ‘child attracted person’ as opposed to ‘minor attracted person’. I use ‘MAP’ here because it is the most widely accepted way to refer to the community as a whole.
What would someone who harms a child be called?
Depending on the context, people who harm children could be called many things—offender, abuser, predator, or groomer, to name a few examples.
Research shows that the majority of child sexual abuse cases are carried out by people who do not meet the criteria for pedophilia. (See “Sources” section below to learn why someone who’s not primarily attracted to children would sexually abuse a child.)
Is pedophilia a mental illness/diagnosis?
It depends. Some MAPs are committed to not offending, are not at risk for offending, and have come to terms with their attraction. These individuals have no reason to be pathologized.
Many others are not at risk for offending, yet they desire professional help for mental health conditions (like depression, anxiety and suicidal ideation) that result from the hatred they receive in our society. These individuals also have no reason to be pathologized, as their mental health conditions result from stigma rather than from the attraction itself.
Some MAPs desire professional help in dealing with the difficult emotions resulting from not being able to have a fulfilling sexual or romantic connection, particularly those who are exclusively attracted to children. (Many MAPs are attracted to both children and adults, and may be in relationships with adults.)
There are also MAPs who desire professional help in remaining resilient against offending. In these cases, and in cases where MAPs do harm children, pedophilia would be considered pathological since there is significant distress and/or harm involved.
Is pedophilia a sexual orientation?
The available research points to pedophilia and other forms of minor attraction being an age-based sexual orientation, in that the attraction is unchosen, typically arises during the time of puberty or early adolescence, and remains fairly constant throughout one’s life.
Are you suggesting that MAPs are part of the LGBTQ+ community?
Age-based orientations are by nature different from gender-based orientations, in that there is no safe or ethical way for an adult to engage sexually or romantically with a child. The experience of MAPs is also vastly different from that of LGBTQ individuals in several ways.
While there are some parallels that can be drawn between studies on stigma among LGBTQ individuals and the experience of stigma among MAPs, these are two separate communities.
Can someone’s attraction to children be changed?
Empirical data, based on qualitative and quantitative studies, points to the fact that pedophilia and other forms of minor attraction cannot be changed or "cured". (See “Sources” section below for reference.)
How many MAPs are there in the world?
Across various studies, the average incidence of minor attraction, meaning those who are primarily attracted to minors, comes out to about 5% of the adult population worldwide. This number is likely an undercount for the following reasons:

• Many studies do not account for hebephilia (primary attraction to pubescent children)
• There is usually a focus on men, despite the fact that many MAPs are women
• Some people choose not to disclose their attractions in the first place

Why should I care about any of this?
Reducing stigma against NoMAPs contributes to a safer society for all, based around empathy and evidence. Many people do not feel safe disclosing their attraction for fear of being unjustly reported, misunderstood, or physically harmed.
Unfortunately, stories of MAPs being rejected by family members, forced out of educational programs, reported to the police, and made to feel like a monster– even in the absence of any harm to a child— are all too common. This prevents many MAPs from seeking or continuing to receive support, which in turn can lead to:

• Increased incidence of mental health issues (such as depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideation)
• More difficulty in refraining from offending (for some MAPs; others are not at risk to begin with)

The misconceptions and harmful attitudes that we have toward non-offending MAPs directly interfere with them receiving the support they may need, decreasing MAPs’ well-being and putting children at greater risk. This includes children who are MAPs themselves.
Where can I learn more?
There are many resources available to learn about MAPs. These include:

• https://www.b4uact.org/
• https://asapinternational.org/index.php/introduction/about_asapinternational
• https://www.stopitnow.org/
• https://safersociety.org/store/live-online-training-providing-treatment-to-minor-attracted-people/
• https://theglobalpreventionproject.org/maps

If you are minor attracted yourself, you can check out any of the above, plus:

• https://virped.org/
• https://www.mapresources.info/
• https://mapsupport.club/

Sources
https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/19327034/ "There is no evidence to suggest that pedophilia can be changed. Instead, interventions are designed to increase voluntary control over sexual arousal, reduce sex drive, or teach self-management skills to individuals who are motivated to avoid acting upon their sexual interests"
https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/32086644/ "The results of this study were consistent with the suggestion of Seto (2012) that pedohebephilia could be considered a form of sexual orientation for age, which includes both sexual and romantic attraction"
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC8793822/ ..."in line with the current empirical assumption that enduring sexual attractions to children are largely unchangeable (Grundmann et al., 2016; Seto, 2012; for recent debates see Bailey, 2015; Cantor, 2015; Grundmann et al., 2017; Müller et al., 2014; Tozdan & Briken, 2017)"
https://www.csaprimaryprevention.org/supporting-maps.html "The overwhelming opinion in the professional sexual violence prevention community is that helping minor attracted people by offering peeprofessional support is the best way to ensure that minor attracted people do not harm children, and suggest that reducing the stigma against minor attraction will help this endeavor and protect children"
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC7145785/ "It may be constructive for professionals working with this population to encourage the 'ownership' of the minor-attracted sexual identity, such as to reduce levels of self-stigmatization and increase self-acceptance. In doing so, we argue that we (as professionals, and as a society) can… ultimately, protect children from sexual harm by improving MAP well-being and agency"
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC8888496/ “…less than half of all individuals with child sexual offense convictions meet the clinical criteria for pedophilia (Schmidt et al., 2013; Seto, 2018a)”
https://www.stopitnow.org/faq/is-there-a-typical-profile-of-someone-who-sexually-abuses-children “Some people who abuse children have adult sexual relationships and are not solely, or even mainly, sexually interested in children”
https://www.stopitnow.org/faq/why-would-an-adult-sexually-abuse-a-child “Some adults sexually abuse a child to feel the power and control they don’t feel in their relationships with other adults… Some adults act impulsively when presented with an unexpected opportunity to sexually abuse a child”
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC8888496/ “...the more consistent prevalence estimates for minor attraction in a more clinical sense… congregate around 5% (Dombert et al., 2016; Santilla et al., 2010; Wurtele et al., 2014)”

Hey everyone, fresh college grad here. I am a little confused as to which MBA programs will be best suited for me and which industries I’ll have the best chances of breaking into post-MBA. I would appreciate if you fine folks could take some time to go over my profile, or at least what I expect it to be within 3 years.
Existing profile:
Engineering grad from Indian Institute of Technology, Kharagpur (Top 5 in the country, <1% acceptance, I guess good image among M7 and other adcomms given the number of interview calls my alums get) and masters in entrepreneurship from the same institute (5 year dual degree program).
GPA (scale of 10): 8.2 CFA Level 1, FRM Level 1 (gave level 2 yesterday) 1 research paper published (co-author) in the domain of climate finance 1 patent filing for a proprietary smart safety helmet for underground coal miners. Adequate involvements in extracurriculars, clubs, competitions, etc.
Did my recent summer internship in a risk team at Aladdin Financial Engineering, BlackRock. Worked in fixed income backtesting, performed well, got a PPO. Joining full time next month and will be working in portfolio optimisation, a brand new vertical for my team. Other experiences include research internships at a couple reputed Indian BSchools and some derivative valuation and risk assessment work for another MNC.
A lot of my batchmates were trying out for deferred MBA programs in their final year so I gave GMAT too, just to get a feel. Gave a couple mocks without practise (740/750) and then gave the exam and got 730. I wasn’t serious so I didn’t hire a counsellor, especially coz they cost a year of tuition+hostel/food worth of money for 10 applications. Applied at IESE and Booth then gave up as I ultimately decided that I didn’t want to go to the States due to personal reasons.
What I think I definitely will have within 3 years:
CFA and FRM charters 2-3 years of volunteering experience, hopefully even some PoRs, as I will be continuing my stint at the local chapter of the Rotary Club. (Have been involved since I was 14, absolutely love those folks and the work they do) And WorkEx lol
Of all the post MBA options, venture capital seems the most alluring to me. Syncs well imo with my postgrad and after talking to alumni in the industry, it seems I would enjoy the work. Personally IB is not for me and I absolutely despise management consulting. Geographically, I would love to work in Europe and the Middle East. Open to study anywhere except the Americas.
I would love to hear from you guys regarding my profile, how I can add to it and make it more structured over the next few years because let’s face it, it’s a hot mess right now. LBS/INSEAD have always been at the top of my list but I don’t know all the granular details about LBS and INSEAD seems to be an exclusive labour provider for MBB 😂. It is my first post here, so hope I’m not violating any rules. Thank you for taking time to read this mundane post, hope you have a blessed day!

Ok, so I just moved my sim into 2A Jasmine Suites in the Spice District and since Sunday when she moved in 5 vampires have come into the apartment in the middle of the night hypnotized her, and drained her til she passes out and I can't figure out how to get them to leave without removing the whole pack💀 I've put garlic in the door and tried locking it but to no avail. Is anyone else having this issue?

 The necropolis was gorgeous, for what it was. Its white outer walls hiding the darker Victorian Gothic interior. The tech that was hidden in the walls though was able to move bodies in their caskets from a designated place in the necropolis to the "viewing area" as the necropolians called it. This was where I waited for my, for lack of a better term, escort to take me to the mortuary. Since science has grown surprisingly fast our abilities for forensic sciences have also grown, and that's to whom I was headed. (S)He was an, unusual (wo)man to say the least. An expert in their field and about as learned as a doctor, if not multi-doctorate. If you ever asked them why they never pursued an actual doctorate, they would get angry and act all prissy while saying that going to school would've slowed them down and all they needed were the basic certificates for their work. The reality though, revealed to me during a drunken bout, they just never liked school and believed that it ultimately stunted a person's growth and ability to question the reality around them, that everything that you need to learn is already in books and in some form or another in digital content online. They were brilliant, if a little wacky. About five minutes after I had arrived and was sitting down in the viewing area, a little box rolled up to me making a couple of beeps to let me know to follow it and immediately started rolling towards the wall opposite of where it came from. When it looked like it was about to hit the wall, a hidden door opened up by the casket viewer, inside was a set of stairs leading down into the darkness. Stepping through the doorway I became acutely aware of sounds seemingly coming from all around me suddenly. It really is impressive, as though I just stepped from a tomb to a busy workshop, the sounds of gas escaping pistons, whirring, and clanking chains flooded my ears. I continued down the stairs following my helpful little box, which despite its size and shape would suggest was actually quite nimble on the stairs. It seemed to have wheels that would extend down to the next step as the edge rolled over it and once the back of the box was clear of the step it would drop back into its squat position, hiding its wheels as quickly as possible. It continued to do so the entire way. The box seemed to notice me watching it and made a kinda shrill whistle and its undercarriage light went from a comfortable yellow to a, is that... Peach? Is it blushing? My god I think it is! I let out a small chuckle and my little blushing box stopped dead in its tracks mid-step, its light suddenly going white, almost blinding me from behind and lighting up the hallway for a split second. Luckily both of my feet were solidly on a step so I didn't take a tumble or anything, but I couldn't help doing anything but laughing harder. 

After a second the little box crept up behind me and continued down, its status light continuing to show pinkish. I followed it slowly, the chuckle slowly dying in my throat as we reached Ceriths office. Well "office" was being nice. Morgue, mortuary, both of these fit just as well. Cerith was, for the most part, a recluse. We reached the door and the little robot continued through a little hole in the wall. I waited a second and knocked. "Enter!" Came the voice on the other side. I opened the door and stepped through. Along one wall set doors that normally housed the dead waiting to be processed. One out of dozens were open, its occupant missing from its silver slab. The middle of the room was brightly lit from a single overhead light. In the middle of the circle of light stood a figure, long Raven colored hair bound in a single braided ponytail, the rest of them bound in medical examination garb. They seemed to be engrossed in the corpse in front of them. The little robot rolled up next to Ceriths feet and made a little chiming noise. "Thank you Tabitha. That'll be all," said a voice that was neither male nor female from beneath the mask. Just sort of in the middle. "Tabitha? Never knew you to be sentimental," I said gently, the chuckle in my voice making itself clear. "I see you still find even the darkest things funny," Cerith quipped back. "My line of work Cer, you take the laughs where you get them. Look who's talking anyway, you're usually elbows deep inside someone 25/8. Even you have a seriously fucked up sense of humor." That got Cerith laughing, sounding like thunder and the whip crack of lightning at the same time. "You've got me there Julius," Cerith said after his laughter subsided. I think he suits him today. Which is both a good and bad sign. When Cerith is acting like a man, it usually means some grim news, but they are going to try to make it seem like not a big deal and laugh a lot. Plus they almost never call me Julius. Something was wrong. Very seriously wrong. As this realization hit me I got this odd tingle in the small of my back. Like someone had put several freezing needles under the skin and into my spine, something I'm familiar with from the anima-games from the cyber sphere. Halos: Divine Retribution If I remember right. Those Angels were sadistic bastards. I shuddered at both the memories from the game and the shockingly similar feeling I was experiencing. Dread, that feeling is dread my friend, the quiet part of my mind whispered to me. "Cer, what's wrong bud," I asked. He didn't say anything. For a long time. After a few minutes I was about to ask again, but then he spoke. And what came out will haunt me, quite possibly till the day I die. "This ones temporal lobes are gray matter. Nothing even close to being coherent. Just. Dead neurons. And he's not the first." Gone was the jovialness of the past ten minutes. This was Cerith the whisperer. In an almost dead tone they continued, "the others didn't fare nearly as well as this one. Most of the brain is intact here, which means that if they didn't deliver a massive shock or something similar to fully kill him he would have possibly lived as a vegetable with memory issues, but that's not what I'm looking for in this one here now. Now I'm trying to figure out what else the others had in common with him, and so far that's brought up all but naught. Well this one has a bit of liver damage. But that's about it. So Mr John was a drinker. Not much there." When Cerith is "whispering" the best thing to do is just let him be. But I couldn't help but prick my ears up at mentions of others with similar wounds, and the fact that this one had liver issues.... "Cer. You said... CERITH," I finally snapped out and caught his attention mid ramble. "Thank you. You said liver problems. But nothing similar to the others? No drugs? Alcohol? Not even a synth brain-pattern? You checked Everything?" "Well let's see, John here was a drinker that's for sure," Cerith said his hands never ceasing their work as he started to put 'John' back together seemingly satisfied that he found nothing else, " Mr Lombardo in chest 3 had cocaine mostly, and Mr Lei in chest 9 had opium. Although to tell you where it came from for both I'd have to do a molecular analysis and see what it compares to. Other than that, no. Absolutely nothing connecting any of them. As far as I can tell they are all unique cases completely separate from each other except for the damages to the brain. And I only found this by accident. During a routine scan I happened to look at the screen as it passed through the brain and noticed an odd density in his temporal lobes. Just slightly higher than normal. Hell to be honest with you it had the density of a fresh cutie, you know those little oranges?" I nodded, and he continued, "Right of course you do, who hasn't? Anyways it's just super dense compared to the surrounding tissues, and I take a sliver probe and drop it in like you do. And when I turn the damn thing on to look at the neurons the area all I see are dead cells packed on top of one another. Not natural decay death, but forced to die. Most of the cell walls were torn open like they had blown up from the INSIDE. That's when I called you." He finished up with 'John' putting the final few perfect stitches in place and sealing him up for good. Once he seemed happy with his work he called out to his seemingly empty morgue, "Grom I'm done! Can you put Mr John Doe here back in his room? Number 11 if you please." He turned away from the body on the table and removed the giant rubber gloves that went to his elbows. He walked into the dark calling out over his shoulder, "I'll be back in a sec I gotta scrub out, want a drink? I have beer, whiskey, vodka, I might have some Cognac somewhere, and bourbon. Your choice, just call out what you want and Tabitha will be there with it. Also have a seat! We have much to discuss." With that he disappeared from both sight and sound in the dark. It was a neat trick I have to admit, and it had something to do with how he had his morgue set up. Even the giant war machine that was Grom was absolutely quiet unless you managed to catch him through the gloom. I thought for the longest time the reason why I could never catch him sneaking around was from some sort of stealth program put into place, but when he goes up and down those stairs he's as loud as can be. So it was definitely not his program but the way the morgue was built. I'm confident in saying that because when I turned back to look at the table, or rather where it was, there was now a chair that looked like it had just grown out of the floor and the body was gone. Also the thought of something as big as a fridge just sneaking up on some poor combatants and snapping their necks as quietly as he walks in the morgue just gives me the heebies. As I sat in the chair a thought occurred to me. Considering how advanced the morgue seemed to be it would make sense that it had some sort of AI or integrated computer. "Computer?" I had been here a million times but I'd never had a chance to think about it nor try anything. But not even a second after I had said anything a response came. "Yes Detective Julius. My name is DANNA. Or Dynamically Actualized Neural Net AI. How can I be of service?" The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, slightly feminine and breathy, all service but no sex. Honestly I was just surprised that it worked. "DANNA, I was just wondering if I could take a look at the files that Cerith had mentioned? If it is as bad as they claim I think I might need to know anyway. Also if you can get those blood works done for me I'd appreciate it. Also something with whiskey or rum would be amazing." "Of course Detective. I will have Tabitha bring it shortly. And how would you like the information to be displayed? Desktop or dynamic?" That piqued my interest. "Dynamic please." No sooner than I had said a series of screens blinked into existence in front of me. It was some sort of Holographic display. I reached out and touched the display and was surprised that I got stopped by something. It was hard but surprisingly I found that I could push into the screen with my finger if I pushed hard enough. It kinda felt like... Oobleck. I also found that by pinching the corner I could pull the screens closer or further from me. I even found that I could grab individual pages of the reports off the screen and hold it. It felt like a thin sheet of plastic and responded like both a tablet and a singular document. If I switched pages the old one would appear back onto the screen and the next would pop onto it. This was about as slick a set up as I had ever seen and whistled my appreciation under my breath, I'm definitely going to have to ask Cerith about where they got DANNA from. "See something you like, big boy?" A very DEFINITELY female voice said in my ear from behind, soft and throaty, screaming come hither. I felt small dainty hands gently caress the tops of my shoulders before slipping down the front of my chest, pulling me back into the chair that I didn't realize I had been slouching in. "You know better than that, Jules. Your back is important and slouching will destroy the muscles and cause some to atrophy." The voice left no room for argument, and left me more than a little bit flushed. I closed my eyes and dropped my head back as far as it would go, the back of my head hitting something soft and warm, stretching my neck and back out. "Damnit Cer I thought you were scrubbing out, not completely changing." I hadn't realized it, but at least an hour had passed from when I started playing with the computer and working with the files if the clock on the computer was to be believed. "You looked like you were pretty into it so I decided not to disturb you. Plus you know how much fun it is for me to tease you like this. Especially after, well these..." One hand waved at the screens in front of me. The small hands' nails were painted the darkest black and almost made them blend into the void that existed outside of the screens. "I do Cer, and that's part of the problem, we both know that it's never going to happen. Least of all for you." She laughed a little, a clear beautiful sound and the body beneath my head bounced slightly telling me I was against her stomach. "Still I know you enjoy these little moments," she said, the pressure on the back of my head disappearing and was replaced by the voice right by my ear again as she whispered, "especially when we both know that's not at all true." At the last words she nibbled my ear gently. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at her, in spite of my baser instinct rising to meet her VERY juicy insinuations. But for as long as I've known Cerith and as many times as we have both been VERY drunk, they have NEVER cashed in. I just assumed that it was a quirk of theirs. "Anyways," she said standing back up, "what are you thinking so far about the files? Spooky, right? Like I said, nothing that I can see connects them." Her hands gestured in front of me in an approximation of a shrug. She then clasped them together, wringing the knuckles and effectively trapping me in the chair and back against her abdomen. I scrubbed my eyes with my fingertips acutely aware of the growing headache that suddenly made itself known. "Your right from the medical side. I can't see everything you can, of course. I don't have near the knowledge that you have," which is true being that Cerith is at least 200 years old. I never asked directly, the old adage still holding about women and their age. Still though her answers to certain questions would lead one to believe her being her first adult car was a Bing Cherry 2201 Firebird GT with white walled hover trim and chrome accents. From pictures that I could find it looked like a slick piece. Looking back to the screens I couldn't help but feel that itch again. I couldn't explain it. That prickly feeling of ice needles again, this time in the back of my skull. As much as I'd hate to admit it. I think Cerith is right. I sighed heavily before saying "send me everything. I'll open a new case file and have the team start working on it first thing." She made a happy noise and bounced slightly, clearly satisfied with my decision to take it on. I reached out and to my left and a glass was placed gently into my hand by Tabitha. I hadn't even realized she had come over while I was working and was now ready for that drink. Room temperature rum and cola. The drink went down smoothly enough considering I drained the glass in one gulp, during which time I finally got a good eyeful of Ceriths current form. Or rather the underside of part of it. From what I could tell she was wearing a black T-shirt. That was it. I put the glass back down, it's job done without moving my head and said, "What a lovely view Cerith. I'm guessing you chose this to try to get a rise out of me?" I couldn't lie though it was affecting me, but I couldn't let her know that. Not when she's like this. Otherwise she'll continue to tease me till she leaves me with the absolute worst case of blue balls this side of the City. Her hands came up and cupped my chin almost lovingly, and her voice said "Of course Detective. Do you not approve? Or would you rather I change back to my medical examination form? Or something else?" Her words dripped with implied sex. I groaned, loudly, and said, "This is fine. Jesus Cer." Before we could continue our most scintillating of conversations there was a sudden PING! And DANNA said, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but there's a message for you Cerith. It says 'If you can get to the department Cerith, do so. We need you to explain your paperwork. And if Detective Julius is still with you have him come in too.' signed the Chief. Would you like to reply?" 'Shit, I forgot the morgue kills all signals,' I thought to myself as I stood up gently (regretfully) prying myself from Ceriths grasp with a, "duty calls. Need a lift?" I stretched gently, the scales in between my shoulders clicking appreciatively for the stretch, and turned around to notice she was indeed, just wearing a black T-shirt that hugged her voluptuous figure closely. The scales in my back clicked shut in surprise. Cerith let out a small cute chuckle, "I see after all this time I can still surprise you," she said blowing a kiss my way, reminding me of a little Gothic pixy. I rolled my eyes away from her and willed my scales to relax. I grabbed my jacket off the back of the chair, slinging it on and clicking the neck clasp shut under the cord that connected my scales to the unit in my head. I was awarded the cybernetics upon completing my training and getting all my licenses to have them. The force had allowed me to customize it, I had chosen top of the line. A dual unit with custom built AI. The individual scales were ceracoated titanium microprocessors all running in both series and parallel, and could move to expel heat or react. The main unit was the same except it was one solid unit that replaced a chunk of skull. Once that was done I zipped up the front of the leathers and ran the scales through the racer setting. They clicked and flattened against the outside of the jacket, securing it to my back. I shrugged making sure it was comfortable. "I'll take the fact that you're only in a t-shirt you'll be along shortly?" "Certainly detective." Her voice was filled with dismissive submission... And sadness? I looked back at her and noticed her makeup was gone. Or had she had any on in the first place? I gave myself a mental shake. There's no way. This was Cerith, veritable goddess of the necropolis. I put the last few minutes away for review later. Chief called. I have to go. On an instinct I thought long dead, I reached out and squeezed her hand. I felt a slight squeeze back. And then she let go with a, "Go on, be a good detective. I'll be along shortly." I left with Tabitha as my guide. Before Cerith disappeared into the darkness I thought I heard her whisper, "please don't leave." My scales raised in a saddened response. I couldn't be sure I heard her right though. If I heard her at all. I reached back and stroked them, knowing my ai probably heard her, and knowing it could feel me touch the scales. After a few seconds the scales settled down. 'I know buddy,' I thought to the AI. It couldn't respond like usual AI. The force thought that was too dangerous. What if it went rogue? What if it tried to kill the host and take over? The list went on and eventually they decided the basics were ok. When I got my unit one of the first things I did was jack it into a diagnostic to see what kind of hardware I was dealing with exactly because manufacturer specs from real use are sometimes different with AI if the bits and bobs are in place. When I did, all I got on the screen was 'Hello?'

A Simple Yet Thought-Provoking Doorway

Interviewer: Howl's Moving Castle was a huge success as well, with box office revenue reaching 19.6 billion yen. This places it second only to Spirited Away among Studio Ghibli films. The original story is by Diana Wynne Jones, and the screenplay was written by Mr. Miyazaki.
Mamoru Oshii: Howl's Moving Castle is excellent, my favorite among Ghibli's works. The story isn't entirely clear, the logic doesn't always hold up – these aspects haven't changed much from Miyazaki's past films. But, at this point, there's nothing more to say about those points. So, what do I appreciate about this film? In a word, it's the mechanism of that doorway. Miyazaki's changing mindset as he gets older is clearly expressed through that door's workings.
Interviewer: The door of Howl's castle leads to different worlds, and its mechanism is divided into four parts.
Mamoru Oshii: That truly impressed me. Every time the mechanism shifts, the door opens to a different world. The black passage leads to the battlefield, flames are raging, Howl transforms into a monstrous bird and flies off, then returns completely exhausted. Seeing Howl like that, Calcifer says, "He might not come back." What kind of meaning do you think that holds?
Interviewer: Does it represent Mr. Miyazaki's heart being divided into four parts?
Mamoru Oshii: It's not about the number. Women might not understand easily, but men get it right away. Especially older men, they understand at a glance. Because they are also constantly turning that doorway unconsciously. In other words, whether consciously or unconsciously, they always play multiple roles. An older man working at a company switches modes when he comes home; when playing with a young woman somewhere else, he switches again; when interacting with his son and daughter, he switches yet another time. Simply put, humans are creatures that live separately in different worlds. There may also be a dark side that leads one to become a monster. People definitely possess a side that turns into a monster and runs rampant on the battlefield, and are destined to coexist with this darkness.
I've never seen a film that depicts the multiplicity of an older man's inner world in such a persuasive way. I love it. The doorway mechanism turns, and the world changes instantly. It's fantastic.
Interviewer: That's high praise indeed.
Mamoru Oshii: It is. But it's dangerous, you know? Sometimes you slip up and reveal a side you shouldn't in front of your wife and children. Wives are probably aware of this to a certain extent, but they don't bring it up. If you ask me, that's what living with a man is all about. You might not notice it when you're dating, but after getting married and having children, women realize that older men use different faces in different situations.
Being able to create this kind of expression means that Miyazaki himself must have struggled with switching between different faces. By now, he's probably become quite adept at it. I'm the same way. After all, film directors have to be geniuses at switching gears – the face shown to staff, the face shown to producers, the face when alone, the face shown to family – you really have to separate them all.
Interviewer: That sounds truly exhausting.
Mamoru Oshii: It is, it is. A person like Miyazaki must have a remarkable monster dwelling within him, right? For Howl, that represents the moment when he throws aside all humanity and becomes a monster. Although it's incredibly difficult, even requiring him to fight till he's covered in blood, he can't escape it. Why? Because he couldn't survive without that side of himself.
He must have referenced other archetypes as well, but no one else could have expressed it so brilliantly. Miyazaki truly is one of a kind. That doorway in the film is so good that it overshadows everything that comes after. The war ending abruptly, for instance.
Interviewer: In the first place, it's unclear why the war even started. To be honest, there are too many things that don't make sense. Sophie's original goal was to break the Witch's curse, but somewhere along the way, this goal disappears, and she ends up living with the Witch.
Mamoru Oshii: That's why it's pointless to try to apply logic. This is Miyazaki's world of imagination, where the laws of cause and effect don't apply. This world itself is Miyazaki's fantasy.
Interviewer: But there is a source material.
Mamoru Oshii: Half of it has probably vanished without a trace, wouldn't you say? All that's left is the basic setting. The castle's design is amazing, it even has a torpedo launcher, doesn't it? It makes you wonder what that torpedo launcher is for and what it's supposed to fire at. It feels like Miyazaki just crammed in everything he likes.

Miyazaki and My "View of Family"

Interviewer: I love the design, though.
Mamoru Oshii: It can accommodate anything, and this time he put "family" in it.
Producer Toshio Suzuki said something interesting. He was also the producer for my film, Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence. He said: "It's fascinating how both Miyazaki and you are making the same kind of film. In short, the theme is "home". Both are stories about family. Miyazaki's film expresses the idea that whether it's an old witch or an orphan, it's fine to welcome anyone into the family, because we're all family. And in your film, whether it's a dog or a doll, it doesn't matter if they're not human. It's a very interesting approach to considering a new kind of family."
Interviewer: Mr. Suzuki is insightful.
Mamoru Oshii: He's the kind of person who observes from such unique angles. That's his strength, thinking from perspectives no one else would consider.
Of course, I wasn't conscious of it either. I had no intention of making a story about family. The "unconscious genius" Miyazaki must have been the same. But when Suzuki pointed it out, I felt "that's exactly right". When people establish a sense of shared existence, the most basic form of it is family. Of course, there are male-female relationships within it, but when viewed from the perspective of social relationships, there's nothing other than family. Even blood ties aren't necessarily essential within it. Originally, the starting point of family is strangers, no blood relation needed. A married couple is essentially a pair of complete strangers with no initial blood ties. They start from a marital relationship and then begin to build kinship ties. It's not like in Shuji Terayama's Throw Away Your Books, Rally in the Streets where people separate first and then spend time exploring family forms in various ways. That's probably how it is.
Thinking about it this way, even the house they live in in Howl's Moving Castle walks on two legs, doesn't it? What does that mean? It means that it's no longer even connected to the concept of "settling down", which represents the idea of family. The characteristics of a house being rooted in the land are irrelevant. On the other hand, in Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence, it doesn't matter whether you're human or not, but you need to be with others to live as a human being.
Looking at both films from the perspective of family makes many things easier to understand, that's for sure. If you don't think about it this way, the content of Howl's Moving Castle will become more and more perplexing as you watch it.

Hayao Miyazaki is David Lynch?

Interviewer: Speaking of family, Sophie's family is nowhere to be found. It's as if she's just a beloved and beautiful younger sister that everyone adores.
Mamoru Oshii: After watching Howl's Moving Castle, no one can recall the details of the story clearly. I watched it twice, which is rare for me, but I still can't remember the story. The protagonist Howl appears suddenly, and Sophie is introduced already sewing hats, but why is it a hat shop?
Interviewer: It's a hat shop in the original story.
Mamoru Oshii: But it must be because Miyazaki wanted to draw scenes of hat making, right? Miyazaki loves artisans, loves depicting scenes of crafting things. Up until now, he's always had this tendency - even if it sacrifices consistency to some extent, he'll find a way to realize the scenes and fantasies he envisions. But with Howl's Moving Castle, he completely let go and took a straight path to fantasy. Howl's Moving Castle is exactly that kind of film. Whether or not there's source material is irrelevant. The story of Master Howl is a prime example.
Interviewer: Voiced by Akihiro Miwa, the character of the Witch of the Waste, right?
Mamoru Oshii: Scenes like the shooting stars are undeniably beautiful, but do they have anything to do with the story? Miyazaki's impression of magic must be these beautiful visuals, so he simply wanted to create them.
Interviewer: It's not just that, the character of the Master is completely incomprehensible.
Mamoru Oshii: I've said this so many times, you can't seek consistency in Miyazaki's films because they're all fantasies. It's best to view them through the lens of David Lynch's Twin Peaks.
Interviewer: Lynch's films don't prioritize consistency either. Nobody expects a logically sound story from his work.
Mamoru Oshii: Then why have such expectations for Miyazaki's films? They're both transforming their own fantasies into films, whether it's Lynch or Miyazaki.
Interviewer: "Hayao Miyazaki is David Lynch", that's quite a bold statement.
Mamoru Oshii: There's one crucial difference between Lynch and Miyazaki: Lynch sees humans as frightening creatures. Lynch's theme is singular – the terror of humanity. As a Lynch fan, I've finally reached this conclusion recently. Humans are terrifying beings; they create terrifying events. This is the theme of Lynch's works. The very existence of humans is eerie, so his works are unconcerned with good and evil, angels and demons. That's why Lynch's films are unique.
So, what about Miyazaki? Miyazaki genuinely wants to view humans as benevolent creatures and the world as something beautiful. This fundamentally differs from Lynch, who is obsessed with a world of horror. However, they share the commonality of realizing their fantasies through film. Another difference is that Lynch consciously depicts horror, while Miyazaki does so unconsciously.
Interviewer: In the latter half of the film, Sophie suddenly shifts between being young, middle-aged, and elderly. Is there any meaning behind this?
Mamoru Oshii: No, it's just to make her appearance fit the scene. They simply decided, "It's better for her to be young here", and that's about it. There's probably no deeper reason. So even if you try to overanalyze it, you won't find anything.
Interviewer: It's fine if you don't fully understand Lynch's films, but you still want to try and understand Miyazaki's.
Mamoru Oshii: Because at first glance, they appear to be orthodox narrative films.
No matter how many bursts of fantasy there are, he still wants to reach a conclusion and summarize the meaning in the end, right? In that sense, he's still clearly more timid than Lynch.
Interviewer: But you said that Howl's Moving Castle is your favorite work, didn't you?
Mamoru Oshii: Yes. Even though it doesn't fully let go in the end, it's quite transparent before reaching the conclusion. It doesn't force itself into a narrative structure, so in that sense, I really appreciate it. The doorway mechanism and the scene where the Witch of the Waste makes shooting stars fall from the sky are both incredibly beautiful and impressive. Although the depiction of the royal palace feels somewhat generic, the scene where they're panting and climbing the palace stairs is quite interesting. There are truly many excellent scenes.

Howl is Miyazaki Himself

Interviewer: In that stair-climbing scene, there's a dog named Heen. Don't you think he resembles you a bit?
Mamoru Oshii: That dog... (laughs) The staff kept telling me about him when the film was released, and I could definitely sense some malice directed at me. Because Heen is a useless dog, isn't he? His personality seems quite bad as well.
Interviewer: So he's like you. When I saw it, I couldn't help but think, "It's Oshii!"
Mamoru Oshii: Because I've also poked fun at them many times in my own works. I named the old man who runs Shanghai Tei in Patlabor "Hayao Saki". Mr. Takahata appears as "Inspector Takahata", although he's a villain (laughs). Needless to say, Toshio Suzuki has made multiple appearances as well.
But if that dog is me, then Howl must be Miyazaki. He projected himself onto the protagonist in Porco Rosso, didn't he?
Interviewer: Wait a minute, that handsome Howl? Really?
Mamoru Oshii: Absolutely. The works where Miyazaki projected himself onto the protagonist are Porco Rosso, Howl's Moving Castle, and The Wind Rises. What aspects of Howl resemble Miyazaki? This statement will surely shock many fans.
Mamoru Oshii: He wants to be that kind of man. A wizard, the head of a household - there's no doubt that Howl is his projection.
Interviewer: But Howl said, "I can't live without being beautiful."
Mamoru Oshii: That's right, he transformed from a pig and uttered those words. Voiced by Takuya Kimura, no less. In reality, Miyazaki loves to be cool, but he understands that it doesn't suit him, so he intentionally makes himself appear plain. I forget when it was, but he even imitated Ryotaro Shiba's style by wearing a black coat. Miyazaki respects Ryotaro Shiba a lot, although I dislike him.
What strikes me as the biggest similarity between Howl and Miyazaki is the scene where Howl returns to the castle as a monster and sluggishly climbs to the second floor.
That scene embodies Miyazaki's true feelings - even if he's making a big fuss outside, he still has to crawl back to his room. When Sophie scolds him saying, "You did it again! It can't be helped", didn't you feel like he must have been scolded by his wife this way too? He finally returns, but as a monster. From this perspective, he's really quite transparent (laughs).
As long as you understand Miyazaki, you can pick up on these amusing nuances. But even if you don't know him personally, the film is full of interesting scenes and beautiful visuals. However, there's really nothing to say about the plot. So, they should just tell the world that, but instead, people love to praise "how great the stories are" in Miyazaki's films.

A quick note about Karl Nell's SALT Conference audience today

There is zero possibility that Karl Nell gave his talk without express authorization of the United States Pentagon and White House, especially with the audience that attends the SALT Conference.
Why? Read this post and his resume. You'll understand why.
Karl Nell, today, has four (4) bosses over him.

• You may have heard of the top of the reporting chain Karl Nell works under.

What do you reckon the average net worth of a SALT guest in the crowd is? Eight figures? Nine?

1. We were not the audience for Karl Nell tonight.
2. American industry and Congress were the audience.

A number of the cell phones in the crowd for Nell will have personal phone numbers of United States Senators and House members. Guaranteed.

Karl Nell endorsed two figures in "UFO" history tonight

Karl Nell is a step removed from the National Security Council. These people don't speak out of turn, and certainly not to tell the leaders of American industry that "aliens are real, NHI is real, and yeah, they've been here a long time," and... then name drop two foreign officials who flat out argued that we're covering up diplomatic relations with a "Galactic Federation".
But Karl Nell did exactly that in New York City today.
That would be Paul Hellyer and Haim Eshed. My jaw dropped how instantly and full-throated he was with the latter two as people to look toward:

• https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Hellyer
• https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haim_Eshed

Again:

1. Karl Nell is an active Pentagon official four (4) steps removed from the United States PRESIDENT.
2. Nell just told the world to look to a Canadian minister of defense and the found of Israel's space program.
3. Who both say the world is secretly in contact with a Federation of outer space cultures.

A military leader four steps from Joe Biden said to look to Hellyer and Eshed.

What did Karl Nell have to say about David Grusch in 2023?

Source:

• https://thedebrief.org/intelligence-officials-say-u-s-has-retrieved-non-human-craft/

Quotes about Nell:

Karl E. Nell, a recently retired Army Colonel and current aerospace executive who was the Army’s liaison for the UAP Task Force from 2021 to 2022 and worked with Grusch there, characterizes Grusch as “beyond reproach.”
In a 2022 performance evaluation, Laura A. Potter, Deputy Chief of Staff for Intelligence, Headquarters, Department of the Army, described Nell as “an officer with the strongest possible moral compass.”

Karl Nell on David Grusch:

“His assertion concerning the existence of a terrestrial arms race occurring sub-rosa over the past eighty years focused on reverse engineering technologies of unknown origin is fundamentally correct, as is the indisputable realization that at least some of these technologies of unknown origin derive from non-human intelligence,” said Karl Nell, the retired Army Colonel who worked with Grusch on the UAP Task Force.

Who is Karl Nell?

He works here today:

• https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_Army_Futures_Command

This is Karl Nell's boss:

• https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Rainey

The AFC reports directly to the Army Chief of Staff and the Secretary of the Army:

• https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chief_of_Staff_of_the_United_States_Army
• https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christine_Wormuth

Who do they report to?
United States Secretary of the Army reports to:

• https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_Secretary_of_Defense

Which only reports to:

• https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/President_of_the_United_States

So the chain of command for Nell today is:

1. Joe Biden
2. Lloyd Austin
3. Christine Wormuth
4. James Rainey
5. Karl Nell

Karl Nell's full (known, public) resume

His full resume:
Modernization Advisor to Vice Chief of Staff of the Army
Army Futures Command 2018 - Present · 6 yrs 5 mos Pentagon

Key contributor to the most significant Army reorganization since 1973. Entrepreneurial leader successful in conceiving, shaping, orchestrating, implementing transformative national security strategies, business process improvements, organizational designs, and talent development initiatives. Recommended technical, programmatic, funding actions accelerating the 32 highest-priority (of 800) Army acquisitions. Orchestrated, led cross-organization digital engineering study quantifying gaps and opportunities within the Army Modernization Enterprise resulting in creation of new #1 top priority program – $100(+)-million multi-year Project Convergence – delivering national-to-tactical, sensor-to-shooter integration. Led SE&I advancing JADC2 collaborating with OSD, DARPA, NRO, USAF Rapid Capabilities Office, Space Security Defense Program. Only space-qualified Army participant in joint. Subject matter expert for Army Science Board (ASB) studies and AI/ML whole-of-government forums.

Deputy COO / Director, Special Programs (Colonel)
U.S. Africa Command (AFRICOM) 2016 - 2018 · 2 yrs Stuttgart, Germany / National Capital Region

Managed daily business operations of a 2000-service member geographic Combatant Command headquarters including all strategic planning, human resources, logistics, finance, IT, legal, and public affairs departments. Represents Chief of Staff in his absence responsible for mediating and arbitrating all issues below flag officer-level. Responsible for orchestrating senior leader engagement process resulting in increased partnering agreements and longer-term stakeholder commitments with key influencers across the African continent. Selected by Presidentially-appointed officials at Assistant Secretary-level to serve in OSD. Provided key evidence-based policy recommendations in DoD Program Budget Review process identifying $3-billion in FYDP savings.

Vice President & General Manager (Corporate Officer)
ENSCO, Inc. 2015 - 2016 · 1 yr Falls Church, VA

Recruited by Board to rescue $100-million failing business; affected organizational transformation within complex portfolio (dozen contracts, multiple contract types, majority of IP creation) in less than two-years. Reporting to CEO, P&L leader of 100-employee, geographically-dispersed R&D division supporting AFC, AFTAC, DHS, DTRA, FBI, PFPA, and other elite NSS clients with disruptive technology solutions. Set conditions for sustained profitable growth (building leadership team, Shipley-based capture process, talent mobility, business strategy) winning all contracts during tenure following 2-years net losses under predecessor.

Chief Strategy Officer (CSO)
US Army Reserves 2013 - 2015 · 2 yrs Fort Knox, KY

Spearhead largest re-structuring of Army Reserve since 9/11 and inauguration of the "gold standard" for multi-echelon, multi-functional combat support training within the US Army. Led force modernization Task Force re-organizing and re-stationing dozens of units and thousands of personnel to build a two-star, 5000-soldier command across 23 states with annual budget of $32-million. Routinely briefed Army Reserve Executive Steering Committee (Board-level) forum.

Vice President, Solution Architecture, Capture, & BD
CACI International Inc 2011 - 2013 · 2 yrs Chantilly, VA

Led cross-company teams formulating campaigns winning critical $250(+)-million corporate bids; delivered support across a $4-billion, 15000-person enterprise successfully capturing new and re-compete business with tier one clients such as INSCOM, CECOM, DHS. Advised corporate officers in M&A review, championed digital engineering and space technology solutions, negotiated best-in-class cyber-security offerings. US Army Reserve: Served as Chief of Operations (G-3) for Army Reserve Counter-Terrorism Unit advising US Ambassadors abroad in whole-of-government preparations to overseas terrorist incidents.

Deputy CTO / Director, Systems Engineering & Integration
Northrop Grumman 1998 - 2011 · 13 yrs Chantilly, VA

Led Board strategic-thrusts developing, orchestrating, implementing: (1) operational excellence policy & process improvement, (2) digital engineering tools IR&D, (3) talent mobility & development for a $2-billion, 5000-person company rejuvenating TASC as a premier SE&I brand after corporate spin-off. Won >$100-million of new business with NRO through SE&I support to re-compete and take-away bids. Senior Program Manager responsible for all SE&I services required in $1-billion equity-backed, satellite & terrestrial, 4G-mobile start-up spanning multiple states encompassing over 70 multi-national sub-contractors. Spearheaded pursuit, capture, program management of >$25-million P&L within non-traditional markets – US Department of State Merida foreign assistance SATCOM SE&I (international) and TerreStar Networks (commercial) – the most significant new venture in company during that fiscal year.

TECHINT Operations Officer (C/J-2)
Defense Intelligence Agency 2001 - 2003 · 2 yrs Wasington, DC / Kuwait / Iraq

First person deployed from the DIA Directorate of Intelligence Production and Analysis to participate in multi-agency planning for Operation Iraqi Freedom as the Foreign Material Program command representative to USCENTCOM / CFLCC in Kuwait. Served as C/J-2 for the one-star Combined Joint Captured Materiel Exploitation Center (C/JCMEC) in Iraq. Enabled the safe and successful recovery of hundreds of conventional weapons systems of strategic value and successfully addressed the question of potential WMD-existence asked by the President of the United States while incurring zero mission fatalities.

Senior Systems Engineer / Lead SATCOM SRE
Lockheed Missiles and Space 1996 - 1998 · 2 yrs Newington, VA

Responsible for mission-critical operations of a sophisticated national satellite constellation; preserved unique capabilities by resolving satellite anomalous behavior in safest, most efficient, cost-effective manner. US Army Reserve: Commanded 80-soldier Special Operations Forces (SOF) PSYOP / MISO company training for possible USEUCOM peace operations to Bosnia-Herzegovina.

Member of Technical Staff (MTS)
AT&T Bell Telephone Laboratories 1994 - 1996 · 2 yrs Holmdel, NJ

Assembled and led teams of subject matter experts engineering new feature enhancements for improving AT&T's long distance switched network capabilities and services. Investigated alternate mechanisms for control of voice signal processing within the toll network. Published a benchmark study quantifying capacity over time of the primary AT&T network element – the 4ESS intertoll switch. Amended the AT&T Network Technology Development work process for certification under the ISO 9001 quality standard.

Commander / Operations Officer
U.S. Space Command 1990 - 1994 · 4 yrs US Army Space Command in Europe

Competitively selected for one of only three Army officer billets within US Space Command in Europe. Commanded a $14-million transportable Satellite Communications Control Central war-traced directly to the Joint Chiefs of Staff while serving as Operations Officer for a Defense Satellite Communications System Operations Center valued at over $38-million. Responsible for 63 soldiers.

The HRRFY.
It’s the horror movie festival where something genuinely fucked happens every year. And I mean every year.
Like, there are some screenings that unleash hordes of bats while the movie is playing. You're free to leave whenever you want, but the movie will still play for 2 hours and 15 minutes.
Other screenings hire actors to turn at you and scream at some point in the movie. You have no idea when, or how many times.
It's a festival where the word "illegal" can't even begin to describe what happens. You'd only attend if you were a young, stupid edgelord like me who was trying to prove he was hardcore to his friends.
Trust me. DO NOT GO.
You have nothing to prove to anyone. Don't be stupid.
Wait for the lamer film versions to come out streaming. That's what everyone else does. They're neutered edits but they're fine.
All they lack is the real gleaming thing everyone wants to see at HRRFY, but who cares. At least you don’t get traumatized. At least you’re not risking your life.
Anyway, if you really want to know what attending HRRFY is like. I’ll be quick and summarize the one screening I went to. It was the 20th anniversary, and I was lucky enough to get in.
***
I had signed up for the HRRFY mailing list, and joined the subreddit. Through a series of cryptic online emails I solved a sequence of riddles and was entered in the lottery for a HRRFY entry.
Lady Luck took a shine to me, because one day in my mailbox, I received a physical ticket. I had done it.
I was going.
The actual ‘ticket’ was a black USB key that announced the location of the festival the night before (which I won’t disclose here) and it did force me to pay for a very expensive flight in order for me to make it on time.
You see, to prevent getting shut down, the location of HRRFY changes every year. Some years the local police have managed to stop it, but for the most part, authorities have given up. What’s the point of arresting or charging anyone, if all the organizers and attendees actually want to be there?
Upon arrival, I had to pick between three participating theaters.
Based on title alone, I decided to go see “Many Drownings” (directed by Oleksander Gołański.) It was in the theater that was furthest away from the downtown core, which meant it was likely the one where the craziest shit was bound to happen.
That’s what I came here for right?
I lined up a solid two hours before the screening like everyone else. The entire line was jittering, just vibrating with excited twenty-somethings. Rumors flew left and right.
“I heard they’re going to force everyone to take acid.”
“I heard an actor’s gonna run in and shotgun the ceiling.”
“I heard they’re going to disappear like four more people this year. At this screening!”
Each year people disappeared. And each year the same people were ‘found.’ And yes this is the worst part, and why should never, ever, ever go to this event.
Again I will repeat myself. DO NOT GO.
No one has ever truly gone 'missing' at HRRFY in any legal or physical sense, because every missing person always shows up a day later, convinced that they are fine—refusing to elaborate further.
There are some small support groups for people who have family members who had gone to HRRFY, and came back irrevocably changed after being ‘found.’
These few unlucky people lose all semblance of personality. They don’t want interviews, or help, or therapy, or contact of any kind. And they never, ever want to talk about what they saw.
Some HRRFY fans think that these ‘found’ people were body-snatched. Cloned in a lab or replaced by a cyborg, or something stupid like that.
But I think there’s a far simpler explanation. The ‘found’ are still the same people. They're just terrified. They got shaken by something that shattered the foundation of their mind, body and soul. They got too scared.
They got HRRFY’d.
***
I should mention I had a cough the day I went. And I was worried my sickly appearance might give me trouble at the airport.
So I invested in an intense double N95 mask which I wore for the whole flight, and continued to wear even at the screening of “Many Drownings.”
It made my face hot and uncomfortable, but it still didn’t stop me from yelling “excuse me, excuse me!” as I ran to snag a seat in the back of the theater.
I always preferred sitting in the far back. You get a good view of the whole screen, and a good view of the whole audience.
Beside me sat a big dude named Sylvester, who apparently flew all the way from Australia to attend HRRFY.
“Worth the full Seventeen hours mate! It’s gonna be epic!” he dropped a massive camping backpack beside me, which I assume contained all of his luggage.
The lights dimmed, and the production company logos started to play.
The whispering, giggling and suspense all stacked upon each other to create an electric feeling in the air. I was giddy. It's like the entire audience was embarking on a massive roller coaster.
The anticipation was the best part for sure. It might have been the only good part.
Then the movie started.
It was a wide shot of a gray, stormy sea. The waves were massive, and the thunderclouds were looming. There was no land visible in any direction.
All we could hear was the sound of waves foaming, swirling, and crashing over and over. Lightning crackled. Rain poured. The camera held perfectly still over this storm as if it was mounted on a perfectly hovering drone. A drone so resilient that it didn’t waver at all.
I thought it had to be CGI.
The shot held like this for the next few moments. Everyone sat glued to their seats. Everyone was thinking the same thing.
What’s going to happen? How are they going to scare us?
People chuckled. People cheered. People wanted to tease whatever was going to happen—to happen already.
But nothing did.
Five, ten, maybe fifteen minutes went by without any change. People started snoring.
I looked beside me and saw that Sylvester—the most excited audience member of them all—had fallen totally asleep. The jet lag must’ve gotten to him.
Then I peered beyond the rest of the audience members and saw other people snoozing too. Heads were keeled over, some people were curled in their seats, some had even spilled out into the aisle and were dozing on the floor.
I looked above the bright screen, at the huge vents in the corner of the theater. I saw a faint white gas emerging from the vents.
Holy shit. What have we been breathing? I tightened the straps on my N95 mask, and made my breathing shallower.
The gas must have been pumping since the opening credits—because how else would an audience of two hundred people all fall asleep?
As I moved my hand through the air in front of me, I could sense the thickness. It was definitely hazier than usual. I took the scarf off my neck and wrapped it around my mouth as well.
Then I spotted movement in front of the screen.
It was a tall blonde man, wearing a black trenchcoat and military-grade gas mask. Beside him arrived six hazmat suits who started pointing at various audience members.
I slunk in my chair, pretending to sleep like everyone else.
Two hazmats walked over to the front row and picked out a sleeping guy in flannel. They lifted flannel up, under the armpits and by his ankles, carrying him between them both like a hammock.
The hazmats walked back up to the stage, where the blonde leader inspected the flannel man and tapped his head. Something was approved?
The hazmats began to swing flannel back and forth, as if they were getting ready to toss him. Despite their masks, I could hear a very muffled, very distant countdown.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“One…”
The flannel audience member was tossed into the screen.
I literally watched him fly into the image of stormy waves … andfallinto them. The flannel man sank into the gray water like a rock, leaving a few bubbles and foam. A wave came crashing down. All trace of him was gone.
What the fuck.
All six hazmats began grabbing more audience members with much more urgency. It became a minute-long process where they would pick the sleeping person up, bring them beside the screen, and then swing-toss them into it.
How was this possible?
I turned slightly to see if there was a projector above me, and realized there was none. Which meant maybe there was no screen on stage.
Which meant … maybe it was a portal?
I tried to wake Sylvester by shaking him. I pinched his leg and arm a bunch.
He was out cold.
The hazmats started grabbing audience members from the middle rows now. They were emptying the whole theater. What the hell was I supposed to do?
I waited until they grabbed another batch, only a few rows down from me. When all hazmats had their backs turned—I broke into a run.
With my left arm, I tightly gripped my mask and scarf against my face, while my right arm vaulted me over seat after seat.
I had never breathed so hard—through so much fabric—in my life.
The hazmats all turned to me. “Hey! Hey!” But their hands were full with their next victims.
I ran all the way down the aisle, to the big exit sign on the left. My heartbeat filled my head. My plan was to dropkick through the exit door.
I imagined myself breaking through like some flying gazelle.
I jumped.
I angled my kick.
It might as well have been a brick wall. I fell ass-first to the ground, followed by my head. Of course the door was locked.
Through a muffled mask I heard a sneering scoff.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Above me stood the one wearing a trenchcoat. I could see his piercing gray eyes through his gas mask.
I rolled aside and tried to run by him. He lifted a foot and tripped me without effort.
My forehead bashed into an empty seat. It dazed me.
The blonde leader bent down and grabbed me by the neck, tearing away my scarf and mask.
“No! No!”
A sweet, ether-like smell filled my nostrils. I did my best to hold my breath, but I could already feel myself getting light-headed.
The other hazmats joined in, grabbing me from all sides. Even if I had the strength to struggle, there was no escape now.
Above me, all I could see was the dark theater ceiling, and some of the light behind me from the cinema screen.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“No. Please. Don’t do thi—”
SPLASH.
I was plunged deep into cold, wet chaos. My head was completely underwater.
Gagging. Bubbles. Spinning.
I fought for dear life, dog-paddling like a maniac.
Churning. Freezing. Panic.
For a second, my head popped above the water. I inhaled all the air my lungs could muster. I stared across a vast, violent ocean.
An enormous thirty foot wave came in my direction.
My whole body lifted higher and higher as the wave approached. I did my best to tread water. It seemed to be working.
Then a series of smaller waves arrived and smacked my chest.
SPLASH.
Spinning. Kicking. Flipping.
My view alternated between the pitch dark ocean beneath me, and the moonlit night sky above.
Again I swam to the surface, popped my head out. Ravenously sucked in air.
There was a small lull in the water.
Around me I now registered the other theater goers. Most of them were lying face-down or sinking … but a few were flapping about like me, fighting for their life.
And above all of us, a floating white shape.
It was painfully bright, I had to lift one hand to look at it.
My jaw dropped.
It was the movie screen, hanging completely still in the air. It showed a dark, empty theater. The exact same theater we all occupied moments ago.
It was tremendously high, above all of our heads. There was no way of reaching it.
Then I saw another thirty foot wave come our way. It grazed the bottom of the screen.
I knew what had to be done.
***
One of the theater goers happened to be on a college swim team. She was the first one able to traverse one of the giant waves and climb into the screen.
Once she was up there, she found a firehose in the theater and reeled it out to us like a rope.
One by one, we swam as hard as we could, praying to God we could reach the rope. Everyone’s energy was sapped. Your body can only sustain itself on adrenaline and fear for so long.
By some miracle, five of us got out.
I was the last.
I climbed the rope coughing and vomiting. I had swallowed so much water that my stomach felt swollen.
When I reached the top and they pulled me into the screen, I sobbed. I couldn’t stop crying.
My life had flashed countless times before my eyes. In bubbling, suffocating visions, I saw both my parents and my brother. I saw my highschool graduation. I saw my favorite Christmas from when I was six years old.
I had almost lost all of that. I had lost almost everything.
On the dirty, carpeted theater floor, I lay with my face down, savoring the fact that I now lay on a hard surface. God bless ground. God bless this filthy, popcorn-strewn ground.
Beside me I heard bantering, hugging, the wringing of wet clothes. Sylvester was the second last to be saved, and he was particularly vocal.
“Wooooooaaaaahh!” He came and drummed me on the back, lifted me up. “Oh my god dude! Holy shit!”
I sat on my knees, wiping the tears and snot off my mouth.
Sylvester clapped his hands, held his face and screamed some more.
“Holy shit dude! That was so fucking scary! Like literally people were dying beside us. Like I SAW people die!”
I nodded, shivering in my drenched clothes. “ I know it was—”
“—That was craaaaazy!”
He laughed and stood up, patting everyone on the back. He kept clapping his hands like this was some sports event.
“That was sick! That was siiiiiiiiick!”
He ruffled someone’s hair then ran up to me with an open palm.
“High five dude! WE MADE IT! High five!
“Don’t leave me hangin’ dude!”

The HRRFY.
It’s the horror movie festival where something genuinely fucked happens every year. And I mean every year.
Like, there are some screenings that unleash hordes of bats while the movie is playing. You're free to leave whenever you want, but the movie will still play for 2 hours and 15 minutes.
Other screenings hire actors to turn at you and scream at some point in the movie. You have no idea when, or how many times.
It's a festival where the word "illegal" can't even begin to describe what happens. You'd only attend if you were a young, stupid edgelord like me who was trying to prove he was hardcore to his friends.
Trust me. DO NOT GO.
You have nothing to prove to anyone. Don't be stupid.
Wait for the lamer film versions to come out streaming. That's what everyone else does. They're neutered edits but they're fine.
All they lack is the real gleaming thing everyone wants to see at HRRFY, but who cares. At least you don’t get traumatized. At least you’re not risking your life.
Anyway, if you really want to know what attending HRRFY is like. I’ll be quick and summarize the one screening I went to. It was the 20th anniversary, and I was lucky enough to get in.
***
I had signed up for the HRRFY mailing list, and joined the subreddit. Through a series of cryptic online emails I solved a sequence of riddles and was entered in the lottery for a HRRFY entry.
Lady Luck took a shine to me, because one day in my mailbox, I received a physical ticket. I had done it.
I was going.
The actual ‘ticket’ was a black USB key that announced the location of the festival the night before (which I won’t disclose here) and it did force me to pay for a very expensive flight in order for me to make it on time.
You see, to prevent getting shut down, the location of HRRFY changes every year. Some years the local police have managed to stop it, but for the most part, authorities have given up. What’s the point of arresting or charging anyone, if all the organizers and attendees actually want to be there?
Upon arrival, I had to pick between three participating theaters.
Based on title alone, I decided to go see “Many Drownings” (directed by Oleksander Gołański.) It was in the theater that was furthest away from the downtown core, which meant it was likely the one where the craziest shit was bound to happen.
That’s what I came here for right?
I lined up a solid two hours before the screening like everyone else. The entire line was jittering, just vibrating with excited twenty-somethings. Rumors flew left and right.
“I heard they’re going to force everyone to take acid.”
“I heard an actor’s gonna run in and shotgun the ceiling.”
“I heard they’re going to disappear like four more people this year. At this screening!”
Each year people disappeared. And each year the same people were ‘found.’ And yes this is the worst part, and why should never, ever, ever go to this event.
Again I will repeat myself. DO NOT GO.
No one has ever truly gone 'missing' at HRRFY in any legal or physical sense, because every missing person always shows up a day later, convinced that they are fine—refusing to elaborate further.
There are some small support groups for people who have family members who had gone to HRRFY, and came back irrevocably changed after being ‘found.’
These few unlucky people lose all semblance of personality. They don’t want interviews, or help, or therapy, or contact of any kind. And they never, ever want to talk about what they saw.
Some HRRFY fans think that these ‘found’ people were body-snatched. Cloned in a lab or replaced by a cyborg, or something stupid like that.
But I think there’s a far simpler explanation. The ‘found’ are still the same people. They're just terrified. They got shaken by something that shattered the foundation of their mind, body and soul. They got too scared.
They got HRRFY’d.
***
I should mention I had a cough the day I went. And I was worried my sickly appearance might give me trouble at the airport.
So I invested in an intense double N95 mask which I wore for the whole flight, and continued to wear even at the screening of “Many Drownings.”
It made my face hot and uncomfortable, but it still didn’t stop me from yelling “excuse me, excuse me!” as I ran to snag a seat in the back of the theater.
I always preferred sitting in the far back. You get a good view of the whole screen, and a good view of the whole audience.
Beside me sat a big dude named Sylvester, who apparently flew all the way from Australia to attend HRRFY.
“Worth the full Seventeen hours mate! It’s gonna be epic!” he dropped a massive camping backpack beside me, which I assume contained all of his luggage.
The lights dimmed, and the production company logos started to play.
The whispering, giggling and suspense all stacked upon each other to create an electric feeling in the air. I was giddy. It's like the entire audience was embarking on a massive roller coaster.
The anticipation was the best part for sure. It might have been the only good part.
Then the movie started.
It was a wide shot of a gray, stormy sea. The waves were massive, and the thunderclouds were looming. There was no land visible in any direction.
All we could hear was the sound of waves foaming, swirling, and crashing over and over. Lightning crackled. Rain poured. The camera held perfectly still over this storm as if it was mounted on a perfectly hovering drone. A drone so resilient that it didn’t waver at all.
I thought it had to be CGI.
The shot held like this for the next few moments. Everyone sat glued to their seats. Everyone was thinking the same thing.
What’s going to happen? How are they going to scare us?
People chuckled. People cheered. People wanted to tease whatever was going to happen—to happen already.
But nothing did.
Five, ten, maybe fifteen minutes went by without any change. People started snoring.
I looked beside me and saw that Sylvester—the most excited audience member of them all—had fallen totally asleep. The jet lag must’ve gotten to him.
Then I peered beyond the rest of the audience members and saw other people snoozing too. Heads were keeled over, some people were curled in their seats, some had even spilled out into the aisle and were dozing on the floor.
I looked above the bright screen, at the huge vents in the corner of the theater. I saw a faint white gas emerging from the vents.
Holy shit. What have we been breathing? I tightened the straps on my N95 mask, and made my breathing shallower.
The gas must have been pumping since the opening credits—because how else would an audience of two hundred people all fall asleep?
As I moved my hand through the air in front of me, I could sense the thickness. It was definitely hazier than usual. I took the scarf off my neck and wrapped it around my mouth as well.
Then I spotted movement in front of the screen.
It was a tall blonde man, wearing a black trenchcoat and military-grade gas mask. Beside him arrived six hazmat suits who started pointing at various audience members.
I slunk in my chair, pretending to sleep like everyone else.
Two hazmats walked over to the front row and picked out a sleeping guy in flannel. They lifted flannel up, under the armpits and by his ankles, carrying him between them both like a hammock.
The hazmats walked back up to the stage, where the blonde leader inspected the flannel man and tapped his head. Something was approved?
The hazmats began to swing flannel back and forth, as if they were getting ready to toss him. Despite their masks, I could hear a very muffled, very distant countdown.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“One…”
The flannel audience member was tossed into the screen.
I literally watched him fly into the image of stormy waves … andfallinto them. The flannel man sank into the gray water like a rock, leaving a few bubbles and foam. A wave came crashing down. All trace of him was gone.
What the fuck.
All six hazmats began grabbing more audience members with much more urgency. It became a minute-long process where they would pick the sleeping person up, bring them beside the screen, and then swing-toss them into it.
How was this possible?
I turned slightly to see if there was a projector above me, and realized there was none. Which meant maybe there was no screen on stage.
Which meant … maybe it was a portal?
I tried to wake Sylvester by shaking him. I pinched his leg and arm a bunch.
He was out cold.
The hazmats started grabbing audience members from the middle rows now. They were emptying the whole theater. What the hell was I supposed to do?
I waited until they grabbed another batch, only a few rows down from me. When all hazmats had their backs turned—I broke into a run.
With my left arm, I tightly gripped my mask and scarf against my face, while my right arm vaulted me over seat after seat.
I had never breathed so hard—through so much fabric—in my life.
The hazmats all turned to me. “Hey! Hey!” But their hands were full with their next victims.
I ran all the way down the aisle, to the big exit sign on the left. My heartbeat filled my head. My plan was to dropkick through the exit door.
I imagined myself breaking through like some flying gazelle.
I jumped.
I angled my kick.
It might as well have been a brick wall. I fell ass-first to the ground, followed by my head. Of course the door was locked.
Through a muffled mask I heard a sneering scoff.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Above me stood the one wearing a trenchcoat. I could see his piercing gray eyes through his gas mask.
I rolled aside and tried to run by him. He lifted a foot and tripped me without effort.
My forehead bashed into an empty seat. It dazed me.
The blonde leader bent down and grabbed me by the neck, tearing away my scarf and mask.
“No! No!”
A sweet, ether-like smell filled my nostrils. I did my best to hold my breath, but I could already feel myself getting light-headed.
The other hazmats joined in, grabbing me from all sides. Even if I had the strength to struggle, there was no escape now.
Above me, all I could see was the dark theater ceiling, and some of the light behind me from the cinema screen.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“No. Please. Don’t do thi—”
SPLASH.
I was plunged deep into cold, wet chaos. My head was completely underwater.
Gagging. Bubbles. Spinning.
I fought for dear life, dog-paddling like a maniac.
Churning. Freezing. Panic.
For a second, my head popped above the water. I inhaled all the air my lungs could muster. I stared across a vast, violent ocean.
An enormous thirty foot wave came in my direction.
My whole body lifted higher and higher as the wave approached. I did my best to tread water. It seemed to be working.
Then a series of smaller waves arrived and smacked my chest.
SPLASH.
Spinning. Kicking. Flipping.
My view alternated between the pitch dark ocean beneath me, and the moonlit night sky above.
Again I swam to the surface, popped my head out. Ravenously sucked in air.
There was a small lull in the water.
Around me I now registered the other theater goers. Most of them were lying face-down or sinking … but a few were flapping about like me, fighting for their life.
And above all of us, a floating white shape.
It was painfully bright, I had to lift one hand to look at it.
My jaw dropped.
It was the movie screen, hanging completely still in the air. It showed a dark, empty theater. The exact same theater we all occupied moments ago.
It was tremendously high, above all of our heads. There was no way of reaching it.
Then I saw another thirty foot wave come our way. It grazed the bottom of the screen.
I knew what had to be done.
***
One of the theater goers happened to be on a college swim team. She was the first one able to traverse one of the giant waves and climb into the screen.
Once she was up there, she found a firehose in the theater and reeled it out to us like a rope.
One by one, we swam as hard as we could, praying to God we could reach the rope. Everyone’s energy was sapped. Your body can only sustain itself on adrenaline and fear for so long.
By some miracle, five of us got out.
I was the last.
I climbed the rope coughing and vomiting. I had swallowed so much water that my stomach felt swollen.
When I reached the top and they pulled me into the screen, I sobbed. I couldn’t stop crying.
My life had flashed countless times before my eyes. In bubbling, suffocating visions, I saw both my parents and my brother. I saw my highschool graduation. I saw my favorite Christmas from when I was six years old.
I had almost lost all of that. I had lost almost everything.
On the dirty, carpeted theater floor, I lay with my face down, savoring the fact that I now lay on a hard surface. God bless ground. God bless this filthy, popcorn-strewn ground.
Beside me I heard bantering, hugging, the wringing of wet clothes. Sylvester was the second last to be saved, and he was particularly vocal.
“Wooooooaaaaahh!” He came and drummed me on the back, lifted me up. “Oh my god dude! Holy shit!”
I sat on my knees, wiping the tears and snot off my mouth.
Sylvester clapped his hands, held his face and screamed some more.
“Holy shit dude! That was so fucking scary! Like literally people were dying beside us. Like I SAW people die!”
I nodded, shivering in my drenched clothes. “ I know it was—”
“—That was craaaaazy!”
He laughed and stood up, patting everyone on the back. He kept clapping his hands like this was some sports event.
“That was sick! That was siiiiiiiiick!”
He ruffled someone’s hair then ran up to me with an open palm.
“High five dude! WE MADE IT! High five!
“Don’t leave me hangin’ dude!”

For privacy reasons the girl will be called Emily (19F) and my ex-boyfriend will be Sam (20M). Last year I (18F) was asked to smoke after work with my at the time coworker, Emily, I said yes because it had been a while since I smoked and thought I could use it as a relief since I was stressed out. While we were smoking I felt really weird and noticed she was pressuring me to take more hits since, for context i'm a lightweight 2-3 hits and i'm good, but she had pressured me to take 8-9. I felt really weird about 10 minutes in and originally thought I was greening out, I was sweating like crazy, shaking, hallucinating, and completely dissociated and out of it. I asked if she could take me home and she obliged but first went to get gas (I lived abt 5 minutes away from where we were smoking), when we got there I started throwing up and shaking even more, the hallucinations were getting worse the more time passed. When I got home I checked my heart rate and it was around 185, I genuinely thought I was going to die I was completely dissociated and out of it. After this I developed a heart condition, now I frequently struggle with fainting spells and high heart rate along with other symptoms. Fast forward to the end of november, I met Sam. We started talking and met up for the first time in the beginning of January. Everything was good, he met my parents, we went on dates often, and while we were drunk one day he asked me to be his girlfriend to which I obviously said yes! I was so happy with him, he was my first boyfriend and I was falling in love with everything about him. I tell him about what happened with Emily, as I was often going to doctors trying to get a diagnosis for what was happening with me. I missed a lot of school and was struggling with extreme anxiety at this time. Around the middle of march I noticed he started following Emily, not only her main account but her spam as well... so of course I follow it lol. I notice she's posting kinda flirty stuff and thirst traps which makes him following her even worse 😭. I'm a very non-confrontational person so I wait until the end of march to bring it up which is where he says he was hanging out with friends and "she was just there".. Red flag. First of all he should have told me, and if she was just there why would he follow both her accounts? I didn't ask more I just was very hurt and confused. Things go on as normal and we don't see eachother for two weeks, still texting constantly. We finally get to see eachother and I come home and get a text from Emily, asking "DO YOU KNOW SAM" "DONT SAY ANYTHING!!" so I respond saying he is my boyfriend, the situation was weird and I wonder if I had only said yes if I would've found out more information sooner.. 🥲. But time goes on, I notice she's posting with hickies and memes like "i dont know if you got a gf you're my man" which makes me sus, and my gut is telling me somethings up. My boyfriend never gave me his location and hid that stuff from me, but wanted me to share mine. He would get dry when I was out with friends, (I only hung out with friends 2 times during our relationship.) We go on a date in the beginning of april and drink, while we were drunk I ask him about Emily and he completely ignores it :/ so i let it go. As the next two weeks go on he gets dryer and dryer and only texts me when he's horny , so I make the decision to end things- asking if we could take a break or just break it off completely, also bringing up Emily and how it made me uncomfortable he was associated with her, He agrees, calls me crazy about insinuating he got with Emily, and we text as friends for the next two weeks. That saturday i'm at prom, and my friend comes up to me telling me that my old coworker, let's call her Sarah, told my friend that "Emily is talking to (My) Boyfriend" my heart drops completely, I instantly ask if she's sure and she feels bad but says it's true. I freak out and go home and think about what i'm going to say to Sam. I text him angrily asking what is going on, he responds basically saying Me and you didn't have a label. Are you fucking kidding me. I went off on him and he avoided everything I said, but confirmed he was talking to Emily. I text my old coworkers and they all reiterate that Emily did tell them she was talking to my boyfriend and often came in with "Hella hickies". I removed him off of everything after that and it's been 2 weeks since then , i dont know what to do I feel hopeless and like I'll never get over this. Am I overreacting?

The HRRFY.
It’s the horror movie festival where something genuinely fucked happens every year. And I mean every year.
Like, there are some screenings that unleash hordes of bats while the movie is playing. You're free to leave whenever you want, but the movie will still play for 2 hours and 15 minutes.
Other screenings hire actors to turn at you and scream at some point in the movie. You have no idea when, or how many times.
It's a festival where the word "illegal" can't even begin to describe what happens. You'd only attend if you were a young, stupid edgelord like me who was trying to prove he was hardcore to his friends.
Trust me. DO NOT GO.
You have nothing to prove to anyone. Don't be stupid.
Wait for the lamer film versions to come out streaming. That's what everyone else does. They're neutered edits but they're fine.
All they lack is the real gleaming thing everyone wants to see at HRRFY, but who cares. At least you don’t get traumatized. At least you’re not risking your life.
Anyway, if you really want to know what attending HRRFY is like. I’ll be quick and summarize the one screening I went to. It was the 20th anniversary, and I was lucky enough to get in.
***
I had signed up for the HRRFY mailing list, and joined the subreddit. Through a series of cryptic online emails I solved a sequence of riddles and was entered in the lottery for a HRRFY entry.
Lady Luck took a shine to me, because one day in my mailbox, I received a physical ticket. I had done it.
I was going.
The actual ‘ticket’ was a black USB key that announced the location of the festival the night before (which I won’t disclose here) and it did force me to pay for a very expensive flight in order for me to make it on time.
You see, to prevent getting shut down, the location of HRRFY changes every year. Some years the local police have managed to stop it, but for the most part, authorities have given up. What’s the point of arresting or charging anyone, if all the organizers and attendees actually want to be there?
Upon arrival, I had to pick between three participating theaters.
Based on title alone, I decided to go see “Many Drownings” (directed by Oleksander Gołański.) It was in the theater that was furthest away from the downtown core, which meant it was likely the one where the craziest shit was bound to happen.
That’s what I came here for right?
I lined up a solid two hours before the screening like everyone else. The entire line was jittering, just vibrating with excited twenty-somethings. Rumors flew left and right.
“I heard they’re going to force everyone to take acid.”
“I heard an actor’s gonna run in and shotgun the ceiling.”
“I heard they’re going to disappear like four more people this year. At this screening!”
Each year people disappeared. And each year the same people were ‘found.’ And yes this is the worst part, and why should never, ever, ever go to this event.
Again I will repeat myself. DO NOT GO.
No one has ever truly gone 'missing' at HRRFY in any legal or physical sense, because every missing person always shows up a day later, convinced that they are fine—refusing to elaborate further.
There are some small support groups for people who have family members who had gone to HRRFY, and came back irrevocably changed after being ‘found.’
These few unlucky people lose all semblance of personality. They don’t want interviews, or help, or therapy, or contact of any kind. And they never, ever want to talk about what they saw.
Some HRRFY fans think that these ‘found’ people were body-snatched. Cloned in a lab or replaced by a cyborg, or something stupid like that.
But I think there’s a far simpler explanation. The ‘found’ are still the same people. They're just terrified. They got shaken by something that shattered the foundation of their mind, body and soul. They got too scared.
They got HRRFY’d.
***
I should mention I had a cough the day I went. And I was worried my sickly appearance might give me trouble at the airport.
So I invested in an intense double N95 mask which I wore for the whole flight, and continued to wear even at the screening of “Many Drownings.”
It made my face hot and uncomfortable, but it still didn’t stop me from yelling “excuse me, excuse me!” as I ran to snag a seat in the back of the theater.
I always preferred sitting in the far back. You get a good view of the whole screen, and a good view of the whole audience.
Beside me sat a big dude named Sylvester, who apparently flew all the way from Australia to attend HRRFY.
“Worth the full Seventeen hours mate! It’s gonna be epic!” he dropped a massive camping backpack beside me, which I assume contained all of his luggage.
The lights dimmed, and the production company logos started to play.
The whispering, giggling and suspense all stacked upon each other to create an electric feeling in the air. I was giddy. It's like the entire audience was embarking on a massive roller coaster.
The anticipation was the best part for sure. It might have been the only good part.
Then the movie started.
It was a wide shot of a gray, stormy sea. The waves were massive, and the thunderclouds were looming. There was no land visible in any direction.
All we could hear was the sound of waves foaming, swirling, and crashing over and over. Lightning crackled. Rain poured. The camera held perfectly still over this storm as if it was mounted on a perfectly hovering drone. A drone so resilient that it didn’t waver at all.
I thought it had to be CGI.
The shot held like this for the next few moments. Everyone sat glued to their seats. Everyone was thinking the same thing.
What’s going to happen? How are they going to scare us?
People chuckled. People cheered. People wanted to tease whatever was going to happen—to happen already.
But nothing did.
Five, ten, maybe fifteen minutes went by without any change. People started snoring.
I looked beside me and saw that Sylvester—the most excited audience member of them all—had fallen totally asleep. The jet lag must’ve gotten to him.
Then I peered beyond the rest of the audience members and saw other people snoozing too. Heads were keeled over, some people were curled in their seats, some had even spilled out into the aisle and were dozing on the floor.
I looked above the bright screen, at the huge vents in the corner of the theater. I saw a faint white gas emerging from the vents.
Holy shit. What have we been breathing? I tightened the straps on my N95 mask, and made my breathing shallower.
The gas must have been pumping since the opening credits—because how else would an audience of two hundred people all fall asleep?
As I moved my hand through the air in front of me, I could sense the thickness. It was definitely hazier than usual. I took the scarf off my neck and wrapped it around my mouth as well.
Then I spotted movement in front of the screen.
It was a tall blonde man, wearing a black trenchcoat and military-grade gas mask. Beside him arrived six hazmat suits who started pointing at various audience members.
I slunk in my chair, pretending to sleep like everyone else.
Two hazmats walked over to the front row and picked out a sleeping guy in flannel. They lifted flannel up, under the armpits and by his ankles, carrying him between them both like a hammock.
The hazmats walked back up to the stage, where the blonde leader inspected the flannel man and tapped his head. Something was approved?
The hazmats began to swing flannel back and forth, as if they were getting ready to toss him. Despite their masks, I could hear a very muffled, very distant countdown.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“One…”
The flannel audience member was tossed into the screen.
I literally watched him fly into the image of stormy waves … andfallinto them. The flannel man sank into the gray water like a rock, leaving a few bubbles and foam. A wave came crashing down. All trace of him was gone.
What the fuck.
All six hazmats began grabbing more audience members with much more urgency. It became a minute-long process where they would pick the sleeping person up, bring them beside the screen, and then swing-toss them into it.
How was this possible?
I turned slightly to see if there was a projector above me, and realized there was none. Which meant maybe there was no screen on stage.
Which meant … maybe it was a portal?
I tried to wake Sylvester by shaking him. I pinched his leg and arm a bunch.
He was out cold.
The hazmats started grabbing audience members from the middle rows now. They were emptying the whole theater. What the hell was I supposed to do?
I waited until they grabbed another batch, only a few rows down from me. When all hazmats had their backs turned—I broke into a run.
With my left arm, I tightly gripped my mask and scarf against my face, while my right arm vaulted me over seat after seat.
I had never breathed so hard—through so much fabric—in my life.
The hazmats all turned to me. “Hey! Hey!” But their hands were full with their next victims.
I ran all the way down the aisle, to the big exit sign on the left. My heartbeat filled my head. My plan was to dropkick through the exit door.
I imagined myself breaking through like some flying gazelle.
I jumped.
I angled my kick.
It might as well have been a brick wall. I fell ass-first to the ground, followed by my head. Of course the door was locked.
Through a muffled mask I heard a sneering scoff.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Above me stood the one wearing a trenchcoat. I could see his piercing gray eyes through his gas mask.
I rolled aside and tried to run by him. He lifted a foot and tripped me without effort.
My forehead bashed into an empty seat. It dazed me.
The blonde leader bent down and grabbed me by the neck, tearing away my scarf and mask.
“No! No!”
A sweet, ether-like smell filled my nostrils. I did my best to hold my breath, but I could already feel myself getting light-headed.
The other hazmats joined in, grabbing me from all sides. Even if I had the strength to struggle, there was no escape now.
Above me, all I could see was the dark theater ceiling, and some of the light behind me from the cinema screen.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“No. Please. Don’t do thi—”
SPLASH.
I was plunged deep into cold, wet chaos. My head was completely underwater.
Gagging. Bubbles. Spinning.
I fought for dear life, dog-paddling like a maniac.
Churning. Freezing. Panic.
For a second, my head popped above the water. I inhaled all the air my lungs could muster. I stared across a vast, violent ocean.
An enormous thirty foot wave came in my direction.
My whole body lifted higher and higher as the wave approached. I did my best to tread water. It seemed to be working.
Then a series of smaller waves arrived and smacked my chest.
SPLASH.
Spinning. Kicking. Flipping.
My view alternated between the pitch dark ocean beneath me, and the moonlit night sky above.
Again I swam to the surface, popped my head out. Ravenously sucked in air.
There was a small lull in the water.
Around me I now registered the other theater goers. Most of them were lying face-down or sinking … but a few were flapping about like me, fighting for their life.
And above all of us, a floating white shape.
It was painfully bright, I had to lift one hand to look at it.
My jaw dropped.
It was the movie screen, hanging completely still in the air. It showed a dark, empty theater. The exact same theater we all occupied moments ago.
It was tremendously high, above all of our heads. There was no way of reaching it.
Then I saw another thirty foot wave come our way. It grazed the bottom of the screen.
I knew what had to be done.
***
One of the theater goers happened to be on a college swim team. She was the first one able to traverse one of the giant waves and climb into the screen.
Once she was up there, she found a firehose in the theater and reeled it out to us like a rope.
One by one, we swam as hard as we could, praying to God we could reach the rope. Everyone’s energy was sapped. Your body can only sustain itself on adrenaline and fear for so long.
By some miracle, five of us got out.
I was the last.
I climbed the rope coughing and vomiting. I had swallowed so much water that my stomach felt swollen.
When I reached the top and they pulled me into the screen, I sobbed. I couldn’t stop crying.
My life had flashed countless times before my eyes. In bubbling, suffocating visions, I saw both my parents and my brother. I saw my highschool graduation. I saw my favorite Christmas from when I was six years old.
I had almost lost all of that. I had lost almost everything.
On the dirty, carpeted theater floor, I lay with my face down, savoring the fact that I now lay on a hard surface. God bless ground. God bless this filthy, popcorn-strewn ground.
Beside me I heard bantering, hugging, the wringing of wet clothes. Sylvester was the second last to be saved, and he was particularly vocal.
“Wooooooaaaaahh!” He came and drummed me on the back, lifted me up. “Oh my god dude! Holy shit!”
I sat on my knees, wiping the tears and snot off my mouth.
Sylvester clapped his hands, held his face and screamed some more.
“Holy shit dude! That was so fucking scary! Like literally people were dying beside us. Like I SAW people die!”
I nodded, shivering in my drenched clothes. “ I know it was—”
“—That was craaaaazy!”
He laughed and stood up, patting everyone on the back. He kept clapping his hands like this was some sports event.
“That was sick! That was siiiiiiiiick!”
He ruffled someone’s hair then ran up to me with an open palm.
“High five dude! WE MADE IT! High five!
“Don’t leave me hangin’ dude!”

Ok so, can anyone please explain to me the relationship between Orpheous, the detective or the novelist (this confuses me because of the different skins since they could be the same person, but detective Orpheous looks more mature and wears a different ourfit vs novelist orpheous who wears a white suit, looks younger and more refined), the journalist/ Alice DeRosse and the little girl??? The more i read the more confused i get.
In the detective's lore (aside from him being a detective and goind to the manor, blablabla) it says he participated in one of the games, was found unconscious outside the manor with various injuries and after a year of coma, he woke up forgetting who he was and how to write. He was also a very renowned novelist and later became a detective. After a letter to find someone's daughter, he went back to the manor who was in ruins.he was also the orginal protagonist but later changed for the journalist, which confuses me a lot, story wise and why Netease would do that.
Meanwhile in the Novelist's lore, tho they share many similarities, it says he participated in multiple games, experienced memory loss, developed alternate personalities, participated alongside the Journalist in a game with Norton, Frederick and the Entomologist. ??????
The story of Alice DeRoss says, aside from what we saw in the game, that she was sent to the asylum at a very young age after her parents were killed, tortured, later adopted by a Scientist and sent to Australia. Finally at the age of 21 she went back to England as a social journalist. She is hinted to be the older version of the "little girl", in the story and in the survivor book by being connected together, just like the Weeping Clown and the Smiley Clown.
And in the lore of the little girl it says she's the Novelist's daughter???????? How is that even possible 😭
Pleaaaase if someone understands any of that mess and is kind enough to explain it to me, I'll be extremely greatful 💖💖💖💖
Edit: i meant "please send help" for the title... idk what happened there and doesn't let me change it

The HRRFY.
It’s the horror movie festival where something genuinely fucked happens every year. And I mean every year.
Like, there are some screenings that unleash hordes of bats while the movie is playing. You're free to leave whenever you want, but the movie will still play for 2 hours and 15 minutes.
Other screenings hire actors to turn at you and scream at some point in the movie. You have no idea when, or how many times.
It's a festival where the word "illegal" can't even begin to describe what happens. You'd only attend if you were a young, stupid edgelord like me who was trying to prove he was hardcore to his friends.
Trust me. DO NOT GO.
You have nothing to prove to anyone. Don't be stupid.
Wait for the lamer film versions to come out streaming. That's what everyone else does. They're neutered edits but they're fine.
All they lack is the real gleaming thing everyone wants to see at HRRFY, but who cares. At least you don’t get traumatized. At least you’re not risking your life.
Anyway, if you really want to know what attending HRRFY is like. I’ll be quick and summarize the one screening I went to. It was the 20th anniversary, and I was lucky enough to get in.
***
I had signed up for the HRRFY mailing list, and joined the subreddit. Through a series of cryptic online emails I solved a sequence of riddles and was entered in the lottery for a HRRFY entry.
Lady Luck took a shine to me, because one day in my mailbox, I received a physical ticket. I had done it.
I was going.
The actual ‘ticket’ was a black USB key that announced the location of the festival the night before (which I won’t disclose here) and it did force me to pay for a very expensive flight in order for me to make it on time.
You see, to prevent getting shut down, the location of HRRFY changes every year. Some years the local police have managed to stop it, but for the most part, authorities have given up. What’s the point of arresting or charging anyone, if all the organizers and attendees actually want to be there?
Upon arrival, I had to pick between three participating theaters.
Based on title alone, I decided to go see “Many Drownings” (directed by Oleksander Gołański.) It was in the theater that was furthest away from the downtown core, which meant it was likely the one where the craziest shit was bound to happen.
That’s what I came here for right?
I lined up a solid two hours before the screening like everyone else. The entire line was jittering, just vibrating with excited twenty-somethings. Rumors flew left and right.
“I heard they’re going to force everyone to take acid.”
“I heard an actor’s gonna run in and shotgun the ceiling.”
“I heard they’re going to disappear like four more people this year. At this screening!”
Each year people disappeared. And each year the same people were ‘found.’ And yes this is the worst part, and why should never, ever, ever go to this event.
Again I will repeat myself. DO NOT GO.
No one has ever truly gone 'missing' at HRRFY in any legal or physical sense, because every missing person always shows up a day later, convinced that they are fine—refusing to elaborate further.
There are some small support groups for people who have family members who had gone to HRRFY, and came back irrevocably changed after being ‘found.’
These few unlucky people lose all semblance of personality. They don’t want interviews, or help, or therapy, or contact of any kind. And they never, ever want to talk about what they saw.
Some HRRFY fans think that these ‘found’ people were body-snatched. Cloned in a lab or replaced by a cyborg, or something stupid like that.
But I think there’s a far simpler explanation. The ‘found’ are still the same people. They're just terrified. They got shaken by something that shattered the foundation of their mind, body and soul. They got too scared.
They got HRRFY’d.
***
I should mention I had a cough the day I went. And I was worried my sickly appearance might give me trouble at the airport.
So I invested in an intense double N95 mask which I wore for the whole flight, and continued to wear even at the screening of “Many Drownings.”
It made my face hot and uncomfortable, but it still didn’t stop me from yelling “excuse me, excuse me!” as I ran to snag a seat in the back of the theater.
I always preferred sitting in the far back. You get a good view of the whole screen, and a good view of the whole audience.
Beside me sat a big dude named Sylvester, who apparently flew all the way from Australia to attend HRRFY.
“Worth the full Seventeen hours mate! It’s gonna be epic!” he dropped a massive camping backpack beside me, which I assume contained all of his luggage.
The lights dimmed, and the production company logos started to play.
The whispering, giggling and suspense all stacked upon each other to create an electric feeling in the air. I was giddy. It's like the entire audience was embarking on a massive roller coaster.
The anticipation was the best part for sure. It might have been the only good part.
Then the movie started.
It was a wide shot of a gray, stormy sea. The waves were massive, and the thunderclouds were looming. There was no land visible in any direction.
All we could hear was the sound of waves foaming, swirling, and crashing over and over. Lightning crackled. Rain poured. The camera held perfectly still over this storm as if it was mounted on a perfectly hovering drone. A drone so resilient that it didn’t waver at all.
I thought it had to be CGI.
The shot held like this for the next few moments. Everyone sat glued to their seats. Everyone was thinking the same thing.
What’s going to happen? How are they going to scare us?
People chuckled. People cheered. People wanted to tease whatever was going to happen—to happen already.
But nothing did.
Five, ten, maybe fifteen minutes went by without any change. People started snoring.
I looked beside me and saw that Sylvester—the most excited audience member of them all—had fallen totally asleep. The jet lag must’ve gotten to him.
Then I peered beyond the rest of the audience members and saw other people snoozing too. Heads were keeled over, some people were curled in their seats, some had even spilled out into the aisle and were dozing on the floor.
I looked above the bright screen, at the huge vents in the corner of the theater. I saw a faint white gas emerging from the vents.
Holy shit. What have we been breathing? I tightened the straps on my N95 mask, and made my breathing shallower.
The gas must have been pumping since the opening credits—because how else would an audience of two hundred people all fall asleep?
As I moved my hand through the air in front of me, I could sense the thickness. It was definitely hazier than usual. I took the scarf off my neck and wrapped it around my mouth as well.
Then I spotted movement in front of the screen.
It was a tall blonde man, wearing a black trenchcoat and military-grade gas mask. Beside him arrived six hazmat suits who started pointing at various audience members.
I slunk in my chair, pretending to sleep like everyone else.
Two hazmats walked over to the front row and picked out a sleeping guy in flannel. They lifted flannel up, under the armpits and by his ankles, carrying him between them both like a hammock.
The hazmats walked back up to the stage, where the blonde leader inspected the flannel man and tapped his head. Something was approved?
The hazmats began to swing flannel back and forth, as if they were getting ready to toss him. Despite their masks, I could hear a very muffled, very distant countdown.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“One…”
The flannel audience member was tossed into the screen.
I literally watched him fly into the image of stormy waves … andfallinto them. The flannel man sank into the gray water like a rock, leaving a few bubbles and foam. A wave came crashing down. All trace of him was gone.
What the fuck.
All six hazmats began grabbing more audience members with much more urgency. It became a minute-long process where they would pick the sleeping person up, bring them beside the screen, and then swing-toss them into it.
How was this possible?
I turned slightly to see if there was a projector above me, and realized there was none. Which meant maybe there was no screen on stage.
Which meant … maybe it was a portal?
I tried to wake Sylvester by shaking him. I pinched his leg and arm a bunch.
He was out cold.
The hazmats started grabbing audience members from the middle rows now. They were emptying the whole theater. What the hell was I supposed to do?
I waited until they grabbed another batch, only a few rows down from me. When all hazmats had their backs turned—I broke into a run.
With my left arm, I tightly gripped my mask and scarf against my face, while my right arm vaulted me over seat after seat.
I had never breathed so hard—through so much fabric—in my life.
The hazmats all turned to me. “Hey! Hey!” But their hands were full with their next victims.
I ran all the way down the aisle, to the big exit sign on the left. My heartbeat filled my head. My plan was to dropkick through the exit door.
I imagined myself breaking through like some flying gazelle.
I jumped.
I angled my kick.
It might as well have been a brick wall. I fell ass-first to the ground, followed by my head. Of course the door was locked.
Through a muffled mask I heard a sneering scoff.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Above me stood the one wearing a trenchcoat. I could see his piercing gray eyes through his gas mask.
I rolled aside and tried to run by him. He lifted a foot and tripped me without effort.
My forehead bashed into an empty seat. It dazed me.
The blonde leader bent down and grabbed me by the neck, tearing away my scarf and mask.
“No! No!”
A sweet, ether-like smell filled my nostrils. I did my best to hold my breath, but I could already feel myself getting light-headed.
The other hazmats joined in, grabbing me from all sides. Even if I had the strength to struggle, there was no escape now.
Above me, all I could see was the dark theater ceiling, and some of the light behind me from the cinema screen.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“No. Please. Don’t do thi—”
SPLASH.
I was plunged deep into cold, wet chaos. My head was completely underwater.
Gagging. Bubbles. Spinning.
I fought for dear life, dog-paddling like a maniac.
Churning. Freezing. Panic.
For a second, my head popped above the water. I inhaled all the air my lungs could muster. I stared across a vast, violent ocean.
An enormous thirty foot wave came in my direction.
My whole body lifted higher and higher as the wave approached. I did my best to tread water. It seemed to be working.
Then a series of smaller waves arrived and smacked my chest.
SPLASH.
Spinning. Kicking. Flipping.
My view alternated between the pitch dark ocean beneath me, and the moonlit night sky above.
Again I swam to the surface, popped my head out. Ravenously sucked in air.
There was a small lull in the water.
Around me I now registered the other theater goers. Most of them were lying face-down or sinking … but a few were flapping about like me, fighting for their life.
And above all of us, a floating white shape.
It was painfully bright, I had to lift one hand to look at it.
My jaw dropped.
It was the movie screen, hanging completely still in the air. It showed a dark, empty theater. The exact same theater we all occupied moments ago.
It was tremendously high, above all of our heads. There was no way of reaching it.
Then I saw another thirty foot wave come our way. It grazed the bottom of the screen.
I knew what had to be done.
***
One of the theater goers happened to be on a college swim team. She was the first one able to traverse one of the giant waves and climb into the screen.
Once she was up there, she found a firehose in the theater and reeled it out to us like a rope.
One by one, we swam as hard as we could, praying to God we could reach the rope. Everyone’s energy was sapped. Your body can only sustain itself on adrenaline and fear for so long.
By some miracle, five of us got out.
I was the last.
I climbed the rope coughing and vomiting. I had swallowed so much water that my stomach felt swollen.
When I reached the top and they pulled me into the screen, I sobbed. I couldn’t stop crying.
My life had flashed countless times before my eyes. In bubbling, suffocating visions, I saw both my parents and my brother. I saw my highschool graduation. I saw my favorite Christmas from when I was six years old.
I had almost lost all of that. I had lost almost everything.
On the dirty, carpeted theater floor, I lay with my face down, savoring the fact that I now lay on a hard surface. God bless ground. God bless this filthy, popcorn-strewn ground.
Beside me I heard bantering, hugging, the wringing of wet clothes. Sylvester was the second last to be saved, and he was particularly vocal.
“Wooooooaaaaahh!” He came and drummed me on the back, lifted me up. “Oh my god dude! Holy shit!”
I sat on my knees, wiping the tears and snot off my mouth.
Sylvester clapped his hands, held his face and screamed some more.
“Holy shit dude! That was so fucking scary! Like literally people were dying beside us. Like I SAW people die!”
I nodded, shivering in my drenched clothes. “ I know it was—”
“—That was craaaaazy!”
He laughed and stood up, patting everyone on the back. He kept clapping his hands like this was some sports event.
“That was sick! That was siiiiiiiiick!”
He ruffled someone’s hair then ran up to me with an open palm.
“High five dude! WE MADE IT! High five!
“Don’t leave me hangin’ dude!”

The HRRFY.
It’s the horror movie festival where something genuinely fucked happens every year. And I mean every year.
Like, there are some screenings that unleash hordes of bats while the movie is playing. You're free to leave whenever you want, but the movie will still play for 2 hours and 15 minutes.
Other screenings hire actors to turn at you and scream at some point in the movie. You have no idea when, or how many times.
It's a festival where the word "illegal" can't even begin to describe what happens. You'd only attend if you were a young, stupid edgelord like me who was trying to prove he was hardcore to his friends.
Trust me. DO NOT GO.
You have nothing to prove to anyone. Don't be stupid.
Wait for the lamer film versions to come out streaming. That's what everyone else does. They're neutered edits but they're fine.
All they lack is the real gleaming thing everyone wants to see at HRRFY, but who cares. At least you don’t get traumatized. At least you’re not risking your life.
Anyway, if you really want to know what attending HRRFY is like. I’ll be quick and summarize the one screening I went to. It was the 20th anniversary, and I was lucky enough to get in.
***
I had signed up for the HRRFY mailing list, and joined the subreddit. Through a series of cryptic online emails I solved a sequence of riddles and was entered in the lottery for a HRRFY entry.
Lady Luck took a shine to me, because one day in my mailbox, I received a physical ticket. I had done it.
I was going.
The actual ‘ticket’ was a black USB key that announced the location of the festival the night before (which I won’t disclose here) and it did force me to pay for a very expensive flight in order for me to make it on time.
You see, to prevent getting shut down, the location of HRRFY changes every year. Some years the local police have managed to stop it, but for the most part, authorities have given up. What’s the point of arresting or charging anyone, if all the organizers and attendees actually want to be there?
Upon arrival, I had to pick between three participating theaters.
Based on title alone, I decided to go see “Many Drownings” (directed by Oleksander Gołański.) It was in the theater that was furthest away from the downtown core, which meant it was likely the one where the craziest shit was bound to happen.
That’s what I came here for right?
I lined up a solid two hours before the screening like everyone else. The entire line was jittering, just vibrating with excited twenty-somethings. Rumors flew left and right.
“I heard they’re going to force everyone to take acid.”
“I heard an actor’s gonna run in and shotgun the ceiling.”
“I heard they’re going to disappear like four more people this year. At this screening!”
Each year people disappeared. And each year the same people were ‘found.’ And yes this is the worst part, and why should never, ever, ever go to this event.
Again I will repeat myself. DO NOT GO.
No one has ever truly gone 'missing' at HRRFY in any legal or physical sense, because every missing person always shows up a day later, convinced that they are fine—refusing to elaborate further.
There are some small support groups for people who have family members who had gone to HRRFY, and came back irrevocably changed after being ‘found.’
These few unlucky people lose all semblance of personality. They don’t want interviews, or help, or therapy, or contact of any kind. And they never, ever want to talk about what they saw.
Some HRRFY fans think that these ‘found’ people were body-snatched. Cloned in a lab or replaced by a cyborg, or something stupid like that.
But I think there’s a far simpler explanation. The ‘found’ are still the same people. They're just terrified. They got shaken by something that shattered the foundation of their mind, body and soul. They got too scared.
They got HRRFY’d.
***
I should mention I had a cough the day I went. And I was worried my sickly appearance might give me trouble at the airport.
So I invested in an intense double N95 mask which I wore for the whole flight, and continued to wear even at the screening of “Many Drownings.”
It made my face hot and uncomfortable, but it still didn’t stop me from yelling “excuse me, excuse me!” as I ran to snag a seat in the back of the theater.
I always preferred sitting in the far back. You get a good view of the whole screen, and a good view of the whole audience.
Beside me sat a big dude named Sylvester, who apparently flew all the way from Australia to attend HRRFY.
“Worth the full Seventeen hours mate! It’s gonna be epic!” he dropped a massive camping backpack beside me, which I assume contained all of his luggage.
The lights dimmed, and the production company logos started to play.
The whispering, giggling and suspense all stacked upon each other to create an electric feeling in the air. I was giddy. It's like the entire audience was embarking on a massive roller coaster.
The anticipation was the best part for sure. It might have been the only good part.
Then the movie started.
It was a wide shot of a gray, stormy sea. The waves were massive, and the thunderclouds were looming. There was no land visible in any direction.
All we could hear was the sound of waves foaming, swirling, and crashing over and over. Lightning crackled. Rain poured. The camera held perfectly still over this storm as if it was mounted on a perfectly hovering drone. A drone so resilient that it didn’t waver at all.
I thought it had to be CGI.
The shot held like this for the next few moments. Everyone sat glued to their seats. Everyone was thinking the same thing.
What’s going to happen? How are they going to scare us?
People chuckled. People cheered. People wanted to tease whatever was going to happen—to happen already.
But nothing did.
Five, ten, maybe fifteen minutes went by without any change. People started snoring.
I looked beside me and saw that Sylvester—the most excited audience member of them all—had fallen totally asleep. The jet lag must’ve gotten to him.
Then I peered beyond the rest of the audience members and saw other people snoozing too. Heads were keeled over, some people were curled in their seats, some had even spilled out into the aisle and were dozing on the floor.
I looked above the bright screen, at the huge vents in the corner of the theater. I saw a faint white gas emerging from the vents.
Holy shit. What have we been breathing? I tightened the straps on my N95 mask, and made my breathing shallower.
The gas must have been pumping since the opening credits—because how else would an audience of two hundred people all fall asleep?
As I moved my hand through the air in front of me, I could sense the thickness. It was definitely hazier than usual. I took the scarf off my neck and wrapped it around my mouth as well.
Then I spotted movement in front of the screen.
It was a tall blonde man, wearing a black trenchcoat and military-grade gas mask. Beside him arrived six hazmat suits who started pointing at various audience members.
I slunk in my chair, pretending to sleep like everyone else.
Two hazmats walked over to the front row and picked out a sleeping guy in flannel. They lifted flannel up, under the armpits and by his ankles, carrying him between them both like a hammock.
The hazmats walked back up to the stage, where the blonde leader inspected the flannel man and tapped his head. Something was approved?
The hazmats began to swing flannel back and forth, as if they were getting ready to toss him. Despite their masks, I could hear a very muffled, very distant countdown.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“One…”
The flannel audience member was tossed into the screen.
I literally watched him fly into the image of stormy waves … andfallinto them. The flannel man sank into the gray water like a rock, leaving a few bubbles and foam. A wave came crashing down. All trace of him was gone.
What the fuck.
All six hazmats began grabbing more audience members with much more urgency. It became a minute-long process where they would pick the sleeping person up, bring them beside the screen, and then swing-toss them into it.
How was this possible?
I turned slightly to see if there was a projector above me, and realized there was none. Which meant maybe there was no screen on stage.
Which meant … maybe it was a portal?
I tried to wake Sylvester by shaking him. I pinched his leg and arm a bunch.
He was out cold.
The hazmats started grabbing audience members from the middle rows now. They were emptying the whole theater. What the hell was I supposed to do?
I waited until they grabbed another batch, only a few rows down from me. When all hazmats had their backs turned—I broke into a run.
With my left arm, I tightly gripped my mask and scarf against my face, while my right arm vaulted me over seat after seat.
I had never breathed so hard—through so much fabric—in my life.
The hazmats all turned to me. “Hey! Hey!” But their hands were full with their next victims.
I ran all the way down the aisle, to the big exit sign on the left. My heartbeat filled my head. My plan was to dropkick through the exit door.
I imagined myself breaking through like some flying gazelle.
I jumped.
I angled my kick.
It might as well have been a brick wall. I fell ass-first to the ground, followed by my head. Of course the door was locked.
Through a muffled mask I heard a sneering scoff.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Above me stood the one wearing a trenchcoat. I could see his piercing gray eyes through his gas mask.
I rolled aside and tried to run by him. He lifted a foot and tripped me without effort.
My forehead bashed into an empty seat. It dazed me.
The blonde leader bent down and grabbed me by the neck, tearing away my scarf and mask.
“No! No!”
A sweet, ether-like smell filled my nostrils. I did my best to hold my breath, but I could already feel myself getting light-headed.
The other hazmats joined in, grabbing me from all sides. Even if I had the strength to struggle, there was no escape now.
Above me, all I could see was the dark theater ceiling, and some of the light behind me from the cinema screen.
“Three…”
“Two…”
“No. Please. Don’t do thi—”
SPLASH.
I was plunged deep into cold, wet chaos. My head was completely underwater.
Gagging. Bubbles. Spinning.
I fought for dear life, dog-paddling like a maniac.
Churning. Freezing. Panic.
For a second, my head popped above the water. I inhaled all the air my lungs could muster. I stared across a vast, violent ocean.
An enormous thirty foot wave came in my direction.
My whole body lifted higher and higher as the wave approached. I did my best to tread water. It seemed to be working.
Then a series of smaller waves arrived and smacked my chest.
SPLASH.
Spinning. Kicking. Flipping.
My view alternated between the pitch dark ocean beneath me, and the moonlit night sky above.
Again I swam to the surface, popped my head out. Ravenously sucked in air.
There was a small lull in the water.
Around me I now registered the other theater goers. Most of them were lying face-down or sinking … but a few were flapping about like me, fighting for their life.
And above all of us, a floating white shape.
It was painfully bright, I had to lift one hand to look at it.
My jaw dropped.
It was the movie screen, hanging completely still in the air. It showed a dark, empty theater. The exact same theater we all occupied moments ago.
It was tremendously high, above all of our heads. There was no way of reaching it.
Then I saw another thirty foot wave come our way. It grazed the bottom of the screen.
I knew what had to be done.
***
One of the theater goers happened to be on a college swim team. She was the first one able to traverse one of the giant waves and climb into the screen.
Once she was up there, she found a firehose in the theater and reeled it out to us like a rope.
One by one, we swam as hard as we could, praying to God we could reach the rope. Everyone’s energy was sapped. Your body can only sustain itself on adrenaline and fear for so long.
By some miracle, five of us got out.
I was the last.
I climbed the rope coughing and vomiting. I had swallowed so much water that my stomach felt swollen.
When I reached the top and they pulled me into the screen, I sobbed. I couldn’t stop crying.
My life had flashed countless times before my eyes. In bubbling, suffocating visions, I saw both my parents and my brother. I saw my highschool graduation. I saw my favorite Christmas from when I was six years old.
I had almost lost all of that. I had lost almost everything.
On the dirty, carpeted theater floor, I lay with my face down, savoring the fact that I now lay on a hard surface. God bless ground. God bless this filthy, popcorn-strewn ground.
Beside me I heard bantering, hugging, the wringing of wet clothes. Sylvester was the second last to be saved, and he was particularly vocal.
“Wooooooaaaaahh!” He came and drummed me on the back, lifted me up. “Oh my god dude! Holy shit!”
I sat on my knees, wiping the tears and snot off my mouth.
Sylvester clapped his hands, held his face and screamed some more.
“Holy shit dude! That was so fucking scary! Like literally people were dying beside us. Like I SAW people die!”
I nodded, shivering in my drenched clothes. “ I know it was—”
“—That was craaaaazy!”
He laughed and stood up, patting everyone on the back. He kept clapping his hands like this was some sports event.
“That was sick! That was siiiiiiiiick!”
He ruffled someone’s hair then ran up to me with an open palm.
“High five dude! WE MADE IT! High five!
“Don’t leave me hangin’ dude!”

my analytics are the same as always. one person who is a friend of a friend irl, only viewer, only chatter, anything else is bots. "the grind" is frustrating, and it feels like a pay to win. you can only get somewhere if you have industry-level equipment so you can do more than the bare minimum with branding and such, or even have an optimal stream. i have a decent mic, but i'm severely limited on my options due to only being able to stream from my PS5. my PC is meant to be used for work and runs games horribly, even roblox gives it difficulty. i'm running a YouTube channel where i edit my vods on the side, but that gains absolutely no traction. i wanted to do YouTube for a living when i was a kid, but now that i took it up as a hobby, every day i realize that you have to be xqc or pokimane in order to get somewhere.
so how can i set myself apart from the crowd of other no facecam, mediocre nobodies and try to get off the ground? maybe my personality isn't suited for streaming? maybe i'm not entertaining to watch? maybe the algorithms are fucking me over? idk. i've thought about getting a fur suit head of my mascot character to add some flair, but those things are majorly expensive just for a wearable carpet shaped like a dog.
idk what i'm doing wrong, but after a long break and coming back tonight, i'm thinking maybe i should just call it quits and say "oh well, i tried, good to know i was right that i could never be a content creator." anything helps except those fucking stupid bots that flood my DMs.

I have not bothered Crystal, posted on this sub, or ANYTHING, until Crystal messaged me tonight on Discord about a fake post. So I removed the post, went back to watching Lisa, who my focus is on lately.
I then got another message saying Crystal was talking crap about me AGAIN. I am not Samantha NoWhere2Go, idk why she keeps saying Samantha is doing the documentary. I have said I would do it. I was working on the script and then Lisa popped off and her family asked for help.
It's NEVER been a secret that I created the discord or Reddit. Crystal has KNOWN I created it and I told her MYSELF I wish Reddit would let you change the names of the subreddits. When Crystal and Michael moved to SC and utilized resources, I no longer considered them a scammer. And I stand on that to this day. I do not believe Crystal is scamming. Does she "beg" for help? Absolutely. But if she wants to do that, fine!
I HAVE personally apologized to Crystal. And to Michael. SEVERAL times. I should have approached things differently with them in the past. Crystal can say AmbitiousVirus has not always been nice, that's NOT true. My comment history will show I have always been respectful. As soon as it was made private, I was sent another screen recording of them talking crap that I should do this or that.
So, what you aren't going to do, is sit on a live AFTER I privated the reddit PER YOUR WISHES, and drag my name. And drag my friends and threaten to dox them. And add more demands. And then talk about how I am not responding like I am supposed to be at your beck and call. NO I AM BUSY, I do not watch every live of yours. You do not know what goes on in the discord because you aren't there. Since we stopped watching you, we game and talk about life. It's not a discord about YOU anymore. We kicked Kevin out and turned it into something else.
I have implemented filters and bots to help prevent bodyshaming, because I DO NOT approve of bodyshaming, taunting, threats. I have always said I wanted this reddit to change into a factual, timeline of the changes you did make and how to turn your life from tent life into actually holding on to something. This is the longest you have been in the same place. That is an accomplishment. But I can not control what other people think or do. And with that, I'm opening the sub back up to allow people to have free speech, minus the bullying. I will keep removing bullying shit AS I SEE IT.
Have a good night everyone. Love yourself, and one another and join our awesome discord family where you will feel included and have a space to call home. No one has to be alone. ♥
PS- Idk who BabyG is, but she must be new. I Have always been respectful, and not two face. I have been honest about my feelings. I didn't go silent after I got called out, I left after I did what was asked. Can you stop antagonizing her? You're the one dragging the live down.

Long post but please help!
I was very close with my in-laws for 8 years, until I got accepted into grad school and got engaged to her son in 2021. My fiancé and I had to move 4 hours away from home, and he’s financially supporting us while Im in my doctoral program. I’m paying for school and things for the apartment but he’s paying for everything else. He’s known about me going to grad school for our entire relationship and been aware of costs that would come with us living together before I graduate. He makes enough to support us both and says he’s happy to help support me so we can finally be together and so I won’t have to take out loans just to live.
When the moving process begun, shit hit the fan. In his family group text, we mentioned we’re planning a trip to Mexico next spring so we can decide if that’s where we want to married. My MIL stated it’s ridiculous to spend extra $ by going twice, and just use the internet to decide. She proceeded to remind me that trips are not cheap & called me a BrideZilla (you guessed it, with a “Just kidding” at the end of it). I ignored the statement and reminded her that my fiancé, me, and my parents aren’t dropping 30k on event where we’ve never seen. This $ was arbitrary, as we’re not sure how much it will actually be. She and my fiancé began a separate text between each other, where my fiancé called her out for calling me a BrideZilla. She then said I am actually exhibiting BrideZilla behavior, have no clue how much things cost, Im entitled and always wanting to go on vaca’s, and force him to spend $ that he earns on me. This was the only time I’ve ever talked about wedding to his family, I’ve waited tables for past 8 years through undergrad, and 2/3 of our vaca’s that year were paid for by other family members. His mom proceeded to tell her sisters (a separate family group chat that I was not in) about the destination wedding decision and stated “oh wait, it’s his money not hers lol”. He called her out on how rude she was and left the group chat.
I was shocked at the texts she sent to him, as it was if she never really go to know who I am as a person or noticed how hard I’ve worked through school. She asked me if I was upset about the group chat BrideZilla comment, and I told her I was actually upset about the separate convo between my fiancé and her. She then proceeded to talk shit about my fiancé, her own son, saying that he started drama by showing me the texts and saying that those were supposed to be private. She said sorry my feelings were hurt but she’s financially concerned because I’m not earning any money while in school and I’ve never had a “big girl job”.
We eventually got over her untrue comments and we moved. Fast forward one year later, and we decided it was just too much to come down for Father's Day. I wasn't feeling well and my fiancé said he didn't want to waste his weekend driving roundtrip for 12 hours. My fiancé calls his mother and tells her that its just too much and although he committed to going, he decided he was going to stay here and take care of me. MIL blew up and hung up on him (keep in mind we've been here for almost 2 years now and not once has anyone in the immediate family attempted to come see us). About a week later, his MIL commented on my Facebook posts with nasty comments thinking my posts were directed towards her (they were just general quotes, I didn't even realize she had an issue with me at the time). I delete her comment and my fiancé texts her to keep her problems off social media. She eventually blows up my fiancé's phone for hours talking about how we are selfish, about how I have no life experience that "it's laughable", nobody in the family likes me, apparently “everyone in this family thinks the same of me” and that “at this point nobody is going to your f*cking wedding”. That night, she deleted both me and him off of Facebook, but the next day she told my fiancé that I went on his fb and deleted her (why would I do this after 8 years? lol)
I was so hurt after all the memories we made together over the past 8 years, that I deleted all of the pics we had together on my social media. I finally knew what she truly thought of me. Was it immature to delete all the pics? Probably. But I also knew I could never have the same relationship with them again after all the things they said about me. Note: deleting the pics were not to intentionally hurt her, but more of something I felt like I needed to do for me to be emotionally “done”. It felt like all the previous times together were just fake. Over text, FMIL and I got into it. She stated to my fiancé “I want all the money you owe me NOW” (she gets like this when she doesn’t get her way to manipulate others- constantly using things she has paid for in the past to make us feel bad) and I straight up told her “there you go again using money against your own son”. Well that set her off and she threatened to talk with my parents and let them know they won’t be at the wedding due to my “nasty words” towards her. Not once have I ever cussed at her or attacked her character (like she has to me). Once she did this over FB messenger, My parents ignored her and said they weren’t getting involved. We went no contact for about 4 months until she realized we weren't backing down. During that time, she had the audacity to cut off my fiancé’s phone service in the middle of a work day (he paid his own but stayed on family plan to save them money).
She eventually apologized to me over text, telling me how she was just upset that she didn't feel important to us and took it out on me. She claims she recently gone through menopause during all of this. But, she still insists on telling my fiancé that I am not as innocent as I seem and keeps bringing up the deleting on FB because she wont admit she did it (she was probably drinking). I told her that I forgive her but it would take a long time for me feel comfortable and move on.
A few months later, they came down to visit us. We took them downtown and showed them where I went to school, our favorite restaurant, and then our apartment. FMIL threw a fit about us being out too long and started crying, saying that “this was my opportunity to relax from work and I wanted to go to the beach… I didn’t even want to go to lunch but I did for yall!” Just drama and drinking the entire time. No fun for my fiancé or me. Of course his step dad tells my fiancé “just go apologize to her, so we can all move on”. Fiancé stood his ground and said no, I did nothing wrong. I was civil the entire time and was actually the only one to console her upstairs when her and my fiance got into it about no time at the beach.
A couple of weeks later, I posted some recent pics of the past few months as a life update on FB. I didn’t post any photos of the trip except for one of us doing a cheers with our drinks (no faces involved). Keep in mind she had been posting pics of all of us all weekend, so some pics I was tagged in were already on my page. Of course FMIL got pissed and texted a bunch of screenshots of my fb page saying that I’m “holding a grudge” and “obviously have no intention of moving forward”. I told my fiance to tell her that I simply made a post and did not have a lot of time to go searching for the pics way up in the family group chat, so that it wouldn’t hurt anyone’s feelings. The truth is, I didn’t feel comfortable posting photos of her on my page after the things she has said about me. I thought she would understand this considering I told her it would take time to heal (just didn’t want to start drama especially when dealing with school at the time). FMIL did not buy the excuse and we ended up saying “it shouldn’t matter if I don’t post a picture of yall, it’s not a huge deal”. Why would I post pics of a trip that was mainly drama? Fiancé understands where I was coming from and respected that. FMIL texted fiancé saying “I’ll go ahead and take back the $ I offered to pay for your rehearsal dinner”. She then got to digging and eventually realized I had removed all of our pics (what I did months before this). Fiancé’s step dad got involved and to look at my FB page. She told him that I deleted all of the pics of them on my FB and was holding a grudge. He saw that and texted my fiancé saying he’s convinced I’m the problem and that “although your mom has said some things that she has apologized for, I’m convinced your fiance is the problem here and doesn’t want to forgive”. (If I didn’t forgive, I wouldn’t have spent time with them when they came to visit us…)
He then stated that “if we are not going to be in any photos or posted in any pics, you can go ahead and uninvite us from the wedding and we’ll relay to our side of the family that we don’t plan to attend”. Fiancé gave them exactly what they asked for and said “at this point I don’t want you there so you got it”. Fiancé has been no contact since last July. Did not come to Thanksgiving, Christmas, and did not wish his parents happy birthday. I have not received a happy birthday from the entire side of the family. They are also avoiding us on social media. Fiancé recently received a text from his grandma saying “you are evil for treating your own mother this way and none of us will be at your wedding if your own mother is not invited”. Basically, he found out that she had told everyone that we uninvited them all on our own. She’s saying that we “misunderstood them” when we clearly have the text with their request, and that they “of course want to be there for his special day”. Now our guest list is cut in half and he will have no family at the wedding~ not even his 22 y/o brother.
We are at a loss. It’s 6 months until wedding and nothing has happened besides her sending flying monkeys and my fiancé having to block even more of his family. She even texted his birth dad (they never speak) recently saying “I just want to share my side of the story”. He didn’t reply.
I understand I may have done some things out of pettiness (none as bad as the things she has said to us) but we believe them using OUR event against us/threatening to not be at the wedding because they may not be posted on my FB is terrible and extremely hurtful.