A couple days ago a worktruck stops in my driveway, says they’re there for the estimate for the new roof I requested. I said no, I own this house and I do not need an roof. They said ok and left, polite no problem.
A couple hours later, a different company worktruck pulls in. By the time I get outside he’s walking around my house with a tape measure. I said what are you doing here? He said to provide a new roof estimate. I said absolutely not and you’re the second company to come here, I own this house and do not need a roof. He was very apologetic and said it came from a message left on their site from “contact us”, it was from a woman’s name I do not recognize. He left.
Then yesterday I came home and there’s a roofing sample display sign and folder of info from a third company. The card had an email so I wrote and said it is a mistake, I own this house and did not contact you, please come get your display. He emaiiled back and said their work cell had gotten texts from someone with a different woman’s name.
First I’m not someone who has problems with people, especially not ones that would send roofers as a prank.
Second, neither women’s name shows up in assessor records as owning anywhere near me, it’s not a simple as an address number transposed. It’s a short street, there aren’t any streets of the same name in any nearby towns, I checked, so these local companies aren’t accidentally in the wrong city. The only house on my street that sold recently is completely renovated and has a new roof, none are for sale, so it’s not a new buyer confused about the address.
It sounds scammy, but to accomplish what? It’s too convoluted to try to convince a roofing company to secretly reroof my house (which obviously does not need it) without me coming home or finding out, and for what purpose?

My (NB18) friend (F18) and I were very close for a long time. We became friends in the eighth grade because we were in all the same classes and were very similar intellectually and through our interests and beliefs. I loved her for a very long time. I would go to her with all of my issues and fears and send them long rants in the middle of the night and comfort them through their issues and traumas.
I've noticed that she's a centerpiece of our friend group. Another friend of mine who I've always really liked became really affectionate with her around the same time I did and they're still close. She connects me to a bunch of friends that she's known since she was really young. Everyone generally just likes her or at least gets along with her, from what I can tell.
But I feel like, now that I've grown older and can understand what I want as a person, all I can see are the ways she bothers me. She's incredibly clingy and gets hurt easily. She constantly texts me about things that bother her and doesn't reply when I talk about issues in my own life. I've tried to make it clear that I don't like being touched, but she touches me (and often in really weird, uncomfortable ways like grabbing my thigh or tapping my neck or tugging hard on my clothing when I'm not paying attention) anyway. She gives me secondhand embarrassment constantly because she tries to get the attention of everyone around her when she wants to be heard. I feel guilty about it, but I just see her as sensitive and I constantly feel on edge around her because she crosses my boundaries so often and I just generally can't stand interacting with her anymore.
Our friend group is mostly composed of autistic people (including myself) and so I know that the atypical is much more typical with everyone in it. I think oversharing and being more physically intimate with friends and being weird or accidentally rude is kind of normal among all of us, even though I try to stand outside of the whole physical thing because of my repulsions. And so I feel like, if I try to talk to someone else in the group about it, they'd tell me that I'm being insensitive for being so bothered by things she can't control. I can't just walk away from the friendship because she'd still be there in every event or outing we plan. She's still close with everyone else and I don't want a falling out between the two of us to strain the rest of the group. Not even just for my own sake-- I don't want anyone to dislike her. It's just that our individual friendship is so draining for me. But I also don't want anyone to think I'm an asshole.
What's worse is that her mom is my employer. I'm currently working for her mom's very small cleaning company (and by very small I mean the only employees are me and the rest of their family), so I'm often in their house and spending time with their parents, and over the summer I'll be picking up more hours with them too. I literally can't be too harsh against her or else it will be awkward in their house or I could even risk my employment.
It's not that I hate her. I don't. She's just not someone I want in my life anymore. She makes me feel bad and exhausted and being annoyed with her all the time is just making me feel guilty because I feel like it makes me a bad person. But it will be so hard to break up the friendship and start on a clean slate because of how woven in she is with the rest of the group. I feel like I can't talk to anyone else about it because I feel like it isn't their problem to deal with considering I'm the only one who has an issue with her. I know in the end the solution is probably just "talk to her" but I don't want to do anything without getting advice first. I'm not trying to break her heart but I know that she still really loves me and this isn't going to be easy. How do I tell my friend I don't want her in my life without hurting her too badly and without risking the rest of my relationships?

my sister (19F) and I (17F) have NEVER gotten along for long. we've argued our whole lives and we are the complete opposite of each other. if it helps, shes an INFJ and im an INFP.
so we'd argued all day, literally since I woke up we've been arguing. so things were already tense.
we had to go to my grandparents for a birthday thing for lunch and I don't eat at the table (I never do, this isn't new and no one cares). but ofc my sister takes it upon herself to tell me it's disrespectful. maybe if I was at some formal dinner but these r my grandparents, I stay at their place for weeks at a time (mostly to get away from my sister). I tell her that no one cares and I just wanna watch TV while I eat.
so I put a movie on (I also asked her earlier if she wanted to watch any in there from my collection of blu rays but she said I only have boy movies, bc thats another thing, she criticises my favourite things but whatever). as I'm setting up the movie she comes in and says shes gonna eat in here. I told her I like to eat alone (especially since she's been pissing me off all day) and she's stubborn as hell so I decided to leave and just eat somewhere else.
which is ridiculous, she doesnt even want to watch a movie she just hates our grandpa and our dad so she doesnt want to sit with them (I have great relationships with them too, she hates the ENTIRE family except mum and nana).
but when I left, she gets pissy bc she handles emotions as well as a 6 year old so she narcs to mum (which she does ALL THE TIME). so I don't wanna start anything so I come back and just deal with it but then she just says despicable me. I'm like what? she says I wanna watch despicable me. yeah no matter I'd just spent 5 minutes skipping the ads on this movie and my food is getting cold) but WHATEVER. I go to get it and im changing going thru the motions again, all the ads.
also the movie I'd put on before was hotel Transylvania but she didn't wanna watch it bc its "sad". she calls every family movie sad. I csnt even say the word WALL-E or god forbid fhe lion king. I'm an insanely emotional person, but the difference between us is I like to express sadness and I cry a lot when she expresses all her emotions in anger. she says im depressed all the time and makes fun and asks if I "forgot my anti-depressants". I don't even take them, and if I did she'd mock me and say that that im a bad person for taking mental heath drugs.
so movies on, I can finally eat and for a while we actuslly get along and since it's a background movie rly she's not forcing me to rewind every 3 minutes. that's y I stopped watching movies with her, she made me rewind and it's take a afternoon to watch ONE movie. she also didn't want to watch anything with me when our parents were home as if she's embarrassed to watch stuff with me. which feels GREAT. I think it's bc she doesn't want dad to see her watch a "kids" movie like beethoven.
so we laughing, it's okay. well except the part when she says i need to eat like a "lady" and that i need to be "ladylike". do u know how much that makes me want to burp in her face?im considered relatively "unladylike" i guess. i swear a lot and i make a lot of dirty jokes. its part of my charm lol. she hates it tho. and my sarcasm, REALLY hates it.
i finish eating snd after a while I get a little bored so I start playing temple run 2 on my phone. she HATES me reading, or looking st my phone if she's with me, she gets rly angry but I'd figured since its just a background movie it's fine. she says to me, very blunt, get off her ur phone. and I have this thing where I hate being told what to do, if it's unreasonable or how they say it. so I don't get off my phone. she then opens her phone and starts watching yt shorts very loudly. I think she expects this to annoy me but news flash, I don't give a shit what she does bc I don't obsess over what other ppl do like she does.
still tho, I don't wanna listen to her preachy, anti-feminism, homophobic bullshit on full blast. thats another thing, I'm a huge supporter of the feminist movement and equality and lgbt rights when shes dead against it. she thinks mothers csnt have careers and being lgbt is wrong. she uses her religion as an excuse for it too. I'm a nihilist as well so every time I say jesus or oh my god she freaks out at me. idc what her religion is, I don't tell her what to do but she tells me I'm being disrespectful. oh I csn get real disrespectful real fast but I don't bc thats her opinion and this is mine.
some thing thats ironic is that im super for lgbt and women rights even more bc of her. I hate seeing how hateful she is towards these groups and minorities so it's made me support them even more. also fhe fact that she's called me a lesbian and intersex and a boy snd countless other things bc of my interests. I'm straight and an lgbt ally who loves marvel and star wars and video games and shee sees those as reasons to call me a lesbian? she also says I dress like one but she dresses like strawberry fucking shortcake if she had no style whatsoever. I wear movie referenced t shirts and hoodies and I like to think I have some sense of style but she says I dress like a boy bc of ONE Simpson skeleton on my shirt. she also says fhe complete opposite if I wear my hair in pigtails, that I dress like a little girl. which is it, sister dearest? am I a boy or a little girl?
anyway, as I was saying she starts watching stuff at full blast, I don't say anything I just put my headphones on. then she starts getting mad. oh she HATES my headphones, she thinks its the most disrespectful thing. I have a lot of anxiety when I leave the house so I have my headphones on all the time, music calms me and I listen to music every day and it's just something i do but she hates it. I dont see y it's different for me to wear my headphones if I'm not gonna talk to anyone anyway. she feels the same when I read around her. I love books, I read a lot and its yet AHOTHER thing she hates about me.
so she starts getting angrier and telling me to take my headphones off but by this point I'm done with the movie anyway and I wanna be alone so I get up to leave. I say I'm not dealing with this shit. she then puts her feet up on the pouffe (which I let her use bc theres only one and she was complaining) to block me. I tell her to move and she says to stay and watch the movie with her. now it's her words that I understand what she rly means. she wants me to sit and watch the movie with her for some reason. but no, I'm not dealing with her bullshit. she keeps blocking me and then she gets up and im just trying to get past without hurting her but shes not ceasing.
bc forcing someone to sit with u and bossing them around is the best way to bond with ur little sister ofc.
eventually I start shouting at her bc ik she'll start to panic if our grandpa will hear. (She's so fake in front of him too, all smiley and happy when inside she hates him. shes like that with every human in the planet besides me mum, dad and nana. she just openly hates me and dad. it's interesting to me how she hates everyone and makes fun of ppl online but yet she still worries about hurting their feelings more than anyone ik. she can be empathetic in that sense at least. it's hard for someone who sees the world in black and white tho, as she does. I just see fifty Shades of grey (hah).
but my shouting isn't working so I'm done and I shove her out the way and ofc that rly ticks her off. I don't understand what she expects me to do, but she gets rly angry when it happens. she shouts for mum ofc. I grab all my stuff so she csnt do anything to it (she breaks my lego regularly and changes the bookmarked pages in my books a lot and searches thru my phone and texts if I leave anything around her). im just heading to the backyard so I'm away from her, I thought about leaving the house entirely but we were gonna leave soon anyway (or i was told).
I walk past mum on my way out and she asks what's wrong snd I'm just too pissed off to rly explain anything so I just say my sister js crazy or something like that. I sit outside listening to music and avoid my sister rhe rest of the afternoon. I knew she'd be talking to my mum about what I did and spinning it so I was the hateful sister who doesnt want to watch a movie with her which yeah is technically true but how is it fair that she treats me like that still? am I supposed to just let her walk all over me?
my mum thinks that. she tells me to give in and just agree to anything and just do whatever my sister says. my mum is my sisters slave too. she'll do anything to keep the peace and just agrees to whatever my sister wants. the countless times she gets whatever take away she wants and im left with the leftovers in the fridge bc im the "easy child". Or at least I used to be, fron my mums perspective. just bc im chill and not insanely entitled and demanding like my sister.
so later in the night when we all at home I go to the kitchen and my mums in tjere and my dads rhere too, just eating. little did the man know what he'd be in the middle of in a few minutes.
my mum hasn't spoken to me about what went down at my grandparents, hasn't gotten my perspective but whatever. she asks me what was so wrong with watching a movie with my sister. I didn't even stop watching the movie bc of my sister, I just had it on while I ate my dinner and I told her as much. they always do this, say "with ur sister" when it's just something we just happened to both be doing. they make it sound like I'm deliberately being a dick to her bc im hateful. then my mum starts going off and saying shit like "u watch movies with ur friends and ur father, y csnt u watch them with her?" I didn't wanna say that I csnt watch movies with her bc it gets on my nerves bc my sister csn hear everyrthing in the house, we all constantly aware of that as if she's always listening, its creepy as hell but she's too nosy.
I say that I was done with the movie and she started bossing me around so I left. That's the truth bur my mum was like NO DONT GIVE ME THAT SHIT, U DONT WANT TO WATCH MOVIES WITH HER BUT U DO WITH UR FRIENDS AND UR FATHER. U NEVER DO ANYTHING WITH HER, HOW DO U THINK THAT MAKES HER FEEL? UR NOT UNDERSTANDING HER SIDE
ya know what's even dumber, they use my OWN FUCKING ARGUMENTS against me. I always say to consider the others persons side and to understand everyone's perspective. and she has fhe GALL to say I don't get her side? OFC I DO BUT SHES TOO FUCKING UNBEARABLE
and I never do anything with her or watch movies with her bc she hates mt favourite movies and shows and vice versa. my favourite movies deadpool and j spend mt days watching marvel, star wars, Disney, musicals, sci fi, action, romance, dramas when she watches REALITY TV AND HORRORS.
PROBABLY THE ONLY 2 GENRES I DONT WATCH. I watch SO MANY DIFFERENT THINGS and she happens to watch the ones I HATE. how r we supposed to watch stuff together with all that, and her bloody rewinding and her criticisms? ITS IMPOSSIBLE.
we agree on very few movies and when we do she wants to watch them so much that she thrashes them. now I'm a person who's seen deadpool a million times and I rewatch everything, I've seen the office thousands of times but she still somehow manages to ruin things for me. she nearly ruined fawlty towers.
now on one hand, my sister has no friends and every one she's ever had has always betrayed or bullied her. thats true, mostly. ppl have been horrible to her forever, I understand she is damaged but she takes it out on me. and how can she ever make friends again if they ever make mistakes she never forgives them? I have a friend who ratted me out to the teacher on the first week I met her for swearing bur she's one if mt closest friends going on 5 years now. every friend I have has fucked up before obviously we human we mess up and learn. my sister won't accept any mistake outside of me or mum. my dad has suffered from that as has my aunt and my cousins. they messed up one too many times and instead of communicating with them, she ignored it so it continued and now she'll never forgive them. obviously that doesn't excuse their behavior but she has to forgive or else she'll be alone. this is the only reason y I still give her chances, bc I used to think maybe she'll learn and get better. but she still treats me worse than anyone I've ever known. but I dont want to give up on her like she's done.
when I move out (as fast as fucking possible) I'll still see her but just a lot less. She and I rly don't work well and she hates everyrthing and everyone important to me.
Still tho, perhaps I am the asshole here. Idk rly. I don't treat her perfectly either, I try tho. And I apologise and I mean it. When she apologises she just means she's sorry she's hurt me, not for what she djd. Bc she does it again and again and again.

Hi guys, this is going to be a long one so buckle in.
I’m going to talk about my recent renting experience. This is the first time i’ve rented a property so here’s how it went…
A week ago I found a 1 bed flat I liked, went to see it twice and put my application down for it. Got my keys on the Friday, took videos/pictures of any marks on walls/doors/cabinets etc before I moved in and started to move some boxes in on friday. On the same evening my sister noticed she was bitten on arm but I just disregarded it.
On Monday I was on the sat on the floor with my partner building some ikea furniture when I noticed some black dots (around 5-7) on this piece of fabric that was on the floor. This fabric comes with the vanity unit I was building from Ikea. I looked closer only to my horror that these were BUGS. To be precise these were fleas. It all made sense how my sister was bitten on her arm. By the time I had found out it was already around 8pm, me and my partner went to the closest shop to get more cleaning products/disposable mop etc to clean all around the skirting boards, hoover the skirting boards, hoover the room and mop each room. I was in such a state of horror and stress because they were in every room bouncing around, I was so disgusted. I took videos and pictures of every room. We spent HOURS cleaning the flat and finished at almost midnight.
The same night I messaged the landlord of what had happened and he comes back and tells me he will put a flea bomb in the flat. The same evening I went to see if it had done anything and I still saw some fleas alive. I also noticed on the radiator grill there was fur like substance which I mentioned that to the landlord and he didn’t address it. (Pets are not allowed in any of these flats). The radiators were so filthy and dirty inside and when I looked behind it the previous tenants underwear was left behind covered in dust. Whoever the previous tenants were had obviously forgotten this there plus the maintenance men did not really do thorough job cleaning.
I tried to limit myself going into the flat but if I did when I came back to my family home I had to throw all my clothes into a hot wash, shower, wash my hair, throw my bedding in the wash, hoover my room, empty the hoover out etc. I was in a constant state of paranoia because I was scared I will end up brining these fleas into my family home.
The landlord was then blaming me saying I could have brought them in on myself or on my furniture. I mentioned I, or my family/partner do not own pets neither have been around any pets recently. I told him all the furniture i’ve taken in has been brought brand new from the store, nothing had been used. Luckily the new sofa, bed and mattress had been delayed in delivery but I put a hault on that. If that had been delivered any earlier into the flea invested flat I would have had a mental breakdown.
He then said they are going to call pest control and I wont be able to clean/hoovewipe anything for 4-5 weeks basically meaning the flat is not in a habitable state.
He said his maintenance men were in the flat cleaning / painting before I had moved in and they did not get bitten and it only started when I moved in.
He then gave me 2 options.
Option 1: -Out of goodwill they return half the months rent to me. -Cover the cost of extermination -If the fleas return within 6 months, they do a 2nd treatment but my rent will stay the same.
Option 2: -Tenancy will be dissolved in 2 days. - Any remaining rent is refunded - Tenant will need to pay £350 exterminator fees/ letting / vacancy fees. - Deposit returned.
Now, anyone in their right mind would want to leave from this place, it was my way out from this week of HELL and i took option 2. There is no chance I would stay there miserable and in constant paranoia for the whole tenancy, I would be trapped.
I had argued that I also payed £65 on their smart utility meter and I wanted it refunded so he then reduced it from £350 to £300. I had mentioned the pet fur on the radiator for the 2nd time and he did not address it AGAIN.
I did seek legal advice and they mentioned that any proof I have including photos/videos would be admissible in court as I can’t prove the flea infestation was there before I moved in unless I get a witness statement from the previous tenant or neighbour. Let’s be real, no one is going to give a statement. If I wanted to fight and get my £300 back I would end up loosing more money for court fees so overall it would be a loosing battle.
I had to find a storage unit and removal service ASAP then the following day moved out of the flat and the tenancy has now ended.
This while ordeal lasted exactly 1 week since I had ‘moved in’. I wasn’t even living in the property but somehow he blamed me for bringing a whole infestation in. It’s clear to say the previous tenants must have secretly had a pet without the landlord knowing and I ended up being the victim to it.
Now I am in search for the new flat and wanting to find one soon. I’m so traumatised by this experience that’d like to know how people search for any signs of a possible infestation so I can check beforehand when seeing a new flat.
Even if you have any advice on things to check on in general that would be highly appreciated.
Thanks

11/20/2017
Log book of Det. Ryan Snow
Case #2798: The Appalachian Murders
The past couple of days are events I pray no one else ever has to go through what Kate and I had. I had her and Mr. Raines cleared of all charges, having found the proof we all needed to end this case and find the true killer. Kate no longer has to go into witness protection and I had given the police a good enough lie to keep myself from looking insane in the eyes of my co-workers. I know no one will ever know the true story or believe it, but I’m writing it out here. It at least needs to be known written somewhere. Even if my and Kate’s eyes are the only ones that will ever read it written out and forever imprinted in our memories.
The morning Kate had run off to the mountains on her own, I had made my way to the Blackwell home where I was immediately met with Mr. Blackwell charging at me and wrapping his large hands around my neck. He was shaking me and blaming me for getting his daughter killed and not doing more to keep her safe. The police who had been called to examine the scene and read Kate’s letter had to sedate Mr. Blackwell to get him off of me, lying him down on the couch, his head resting on Mrs. Blackwell’s legs. Though the woman was distraught and begging the police to bring her daughter back, she still took the time to shoot that cold, death glare my way. The ice in my chest growing. I couldn’t tell these people that this thing had come after me to get to Kate. I knew it wouldn’t change anything. If anything they’d hate me even more for keeping it to myself.
The sheriff was there and he pulled me away from eye sight of the Blackwells, trying to tell me that this wasn’t my fault. But I couldn’t help but blame myself. I should have done everything I could to keep Kate as far from those mountains as possible.
There were no signs of a struggle in Kate’s room and the letter was definitely written in her hand writing. Her father’s rifle missing from the study, a backpack and some food and supplies gone as well. She had only grabbed one set of clothes from her drawers, showing she did indeed have plans on returning after only one night in the mountains to confront whoever or whatever the killer was.
I told the sheriff to keep any police from going up to the mountains without first allowing me to go up there first to find Kate. He of course argued, telling me that he couldn’t break protocol based on any hunches I may have had. However, I told him that I could get Kate back without her putting up much of a fight, whereas she may struggle with a group of cops who didn’t understand the situation she was in. I was close enough to this case to have built a trust with her after all. I was mentioned in her letter about ending this case for me.
It took a good hour to get the sheriff to eye the Blackwells, Mr. Blackwell beginning to stir from his sleep, and allow me to go to the mountains to find Kate. He didn’t bother to call off the search to the police that had already begun making their way to the mountains, but did radio to tell them to not try getting Kate home without first allowing me to speak to her. He then gave me twenty-four hours to find her to which I told him I’d only need at most ten.
Without telling him about the disturbing scratches on my car, I sped to the mountains, taking the same path Kate had that day she took her friends on their trip. The route, as the sun began to rise was scenic. A drive that may have been a sign of a bright future ahead with a beautiful week in the mountains of nothing but nature, was now a reddening sky of horror. I couldn’t understand how Kate felt, going down the same roads that led to her only friends’ fates to avenge them, but the feeling of guilt did weigh heavy on my chest as I saw the signs of the Appalachian Mountain trails grow bigger on the horizon. Guilt for not doing more to prove Kate was innocent, for allowing Mrs. Mayfield for getting killed right before my very eyes, and for Liam for not being lucky enough to save him.
When I finally arrived to the cabin, there didn’t seem to be any change since the first day I was called to the crime scene, the only thing out of place being Mr. Blackwell’s truck parked precariously near the cabin. The police tape was still up, the cars of Kate and Mr. Woolfe still left where they were, the tires still slashed, the door wide open from when Kate, Ms. Greymoore, and Mr. Woolfe ran out of the cabin upon Mr. Billings was killed by an unknown force. All the bodies had been found and were now being prepared by their families to be buried or cremated. Only one body of the five still roaming around to avenge each and every one of their deaths.
I called out for Kate as I made my way into the cabin. The Ouija board was still on the coffee table, the white line of where Mr. Billings had been found lying face first on the floor with his head bashed open remained on the spot. The planchette was still missing. I kept calling out for Kate as I made my way up to the attic, the door left unlocked, using my flashlight to shine down on the white outline where Mr. Steele had been found completely torn apart. To think Kate had done such a thing, I now realize made me look like a complete dumb ass for believing it.
When I couldn’t find Kate in the cabin, I made my way out the cabin, still calling for her. I called out to her, promising that she just needed to come back home with me and we could solve the murders together. I knew it was a lie and that the sheriff would immediately have her take away to some secluded place where the killer couldn’t find her, but it was all I could think of to try luring her out to meet me. Still, she never appeared.
The sun was soon beginning to set as I tried retracing the very steps Kate and Ms. Greymoore had taken to outrun the killer. I had passed the small shrine of flowers and the pictures of Mr. Woolfe where the boy had been found, his face permanently remaining nineteen forever in the photos of him with Kate and their friends. I kept going, trying my best to follow the same path to the cliff where Ms. Greymoore was found, calling for Kate along the way.
It wasn’t until I found the place Kate had buried her best friend that I found Kate. She was on her knees before the rock where she left her bloody handprint, sniffing as her head was lowered, her dad’s rifle in her hands.
“Ms. Blackwell-“ I began as I took a step toward her. I was immediately cut off as Kate jumped to her feet, raising her father’s rifle at my head. I jolted back, raising my hands up to show her I meant no harm to her. “Ms. Blackwell, it’s me, Det. Snow!”
“Detective…?” She gasped, slightly lowering the rifle, but keeping it on me. “P-Prove it!”
“I’m sorry?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I… I thought I saw Sonja…” Kate breathed between tears, the rifle shaking in her hands, “it… It was wearing her face… It had her voice… How… H-How do I know you’re really Det. Snow?”
“You… Saw Sonja?” I asked as gently as I could with a terrified woman pointing a gun my way. “She spoke to you?”
“Prove you’re Det. Snow!” Kate demanded as she stilled her arms, readying the rifle as she pointed straight between my eyes.
“Alright! Alright!” I kept my hands up, backing up slightly as I tried thinking of how I could prove to her I was really me. “I… I, ah… I have… Had a brother… We went to get ice cream together once and… I dropped a dime and went to grab it… I was five… I followed it out to the road and despite how trafficked it was, I didn’t get hit. I grabbed the dime just as a truck was speeding my way and it swerved just before hitting me… Seeing how close I was to death, I dropped the dime and it rolled into the sewer. My brother called me Lucky Dime since then… Saying the dime was lost to me because it did its job in protecting me… I haven’t seen my brother since I was seven and I haven’t spoken to my parents in…” I looked at my watch. “Five years… No one else calls me Lucky Dime… Not even the people at the station know that was my nickname.”
With this, Kate lowered the rifle, her eyes softening from her furious fear to a more melancholy terror. She looked to Ms. Greymoore’s grave marker, her hand print just barely visible In the approaching darkness.
“It… It looked just… Like her…” She sniffed, “it had her voice… Why did it have her voice… Why did it look like her…?”
“Ms. Blackwell,” I soothed, relaxing now that there was no weapon in my face, “we need to head back, your parents are worried about you and the police are looking for-“
“I can’t go back yet!” She snapped at me as she spun to look at me, tears in her eyes. “That thing is still out there and will kill again unless I end it!” She held up her dad’s rifle as if to show me how she meant to “end it.” “I’m not leaving until I end that… Thing that had the balls to wear Sonja’s face and have her voice!”
“Ms. Blackwell, we will catch the killer, I promise, but right now, we need to get you home before your dad ends up killing a police officer for keeping him from looking for you.”
“I told him in my letter I’d be back tomorrow! I’m twenty-years-old, he can’t force me back home if I don’t want to! I just want to stop this thing before it-“
A howling in the distance cut Kate off. Coyote from what I could hear. If I couldn’t get Kate home, I’d have to get her somewhere safe. I turned to begin talking her down and taking her to one of the other two cabins for shelter. However, when I looked back at her, her face had turned to a bone chilling terror I’d never seen on a person before. She looked like hunted prey that had been found by its predator. She gripped her dad’s rifle to her chest tightly, her hand reaching for the trigger.
“Ms. Blackwell, it’s just a pack of coyote,” I tried telling her calmly, “let’s get to one of the other cabins and-“
“No, no, no,” She stopped me as she stepped back, looking around for where the howling was coming from, “I… Heard that same howling just before I saw Sonja! I thought it was far away, but she… She was right in front of me… She… Something was off, but it looked just like her!”
“Ms. Blackwell, you didn’t see Sonja,” I assured her, “I don’t know what you think you saw, but it wasn’t-“
“Lucky… Dime…”
I froze. My blood turned to ice. The fear on Kate’s face grew as she began backing away, her back hitting the grave marker. I spun around to see a figure in the darkness limp toward us, a scratched and garbled familiar voice coming from it.
“Lucky… Dime…” It wheezed, “You brought her… Back… Give her… To me…”
I whipped out my gun, pointing it at this thing that had his voice. I stepped back to stand directly between this thing and Kate.
“Stay back!” I demanded. “Don’t come any closer!”
“Lucky… Di-“
“Shut up! Stop calling me that! Who are you? Not another step or I’ll shoot!”
The thing stopped limping toward us, its body shuddering in place as it stared us down. I took the safety off of my Glock, ready to blow this thing’s head off if it got any closer or even dared using that voice on me again.
“Kate…” It turned its attention to Kate, a completely different voice coming from it, another male’s voice. “Kate… I’m cold…”
“J-Jasper…” Kate began to sob, “Please, stop using their voices… Please stop!”
“Kate… Kate why did… Did you leave me…?” Another male voice asked. “I… I was in so much… Pain…”
“Shut up!” Kate cried out.
“I thought we… Were friends… Kate…” A female voice. “You said you… Loved me… Why won’t… You let me have… Your warmth…?”
“I said shut up!” Kate screamed as she pointed her rifle and shooting at the creature. She had missed, but the thing still let out an ear piercing shriek as it dodged out of the way of the bullets Kate was shooting. It ran off into the darkness, but Kate kept pulling the trigger of her rifle.
“Stop!” I shouted as I snatched the barrel of her rifle, shoving it to the ground before us. “It’s gone, you scared it off, get to the cabins, I’m right here with you!”
I began shoving Kate back toward where the cabins were, the sounds of that thing screaming out in a symphony of different voices ringing out throughout the woods. I shoved Kate into the first cabin we had arrived to, Cabin #1 I could only assume as I slammed the door shut behind us. It smelled God awful, like the smell of the corpse I found on my first murder case, and it was getting darker as the sun began to sink behind the trees outside.
“Detective, it smell terrible in here!” Kate cried out, covering her mouth and nose, but the tears still falling from her eyes were still visible as they rolled down her cheeks.
I pulled her close and kept her behind me as I took my gun and flashlight out. “Stay close to me,” I ordered, leading the way through the cabin, “do not run off or use that rifle without may say so, understood?”
Kate didn’t answer, but I could feel the heat from her body following after me as I made my toward the smell. It was getting worse as we inched closer to a closet door in a hallway that connected the living room to the kitchen. The door was locked, but after a couple of kicks I was able to get the door to swing open, the smell blasting us in our faces making us gag and nearly throw up on the floor. I fumbled around the sides inside the room to find a light switch that I was able to find to the side of the entryway. A yellow light flickered on, revealing the door led to a staircase. I led the way down the creaking steps, Kate close by as she kept her mouth covered with her shirt.
Once we had made our way to the bottom, Kate dropped her dad’s rifle and let out a scream as we stared at what was waiting for us at the bottom of the steps. In a large pile at the corner of this basement room were nothing but skin and bones of humans and animals covered in maggots and flies. Some of the human bodies being small and child-like in size. The missing people who were never found after vanishing when they came to Cabin #2.
I grabbed Kate’s rifle off the floor and began pushing her back up the stairs, her screaming and sobbing all the way back up to the cabin. I slammed the door shut behind us and pushed Kate to the front door.
“We need to leave,” I had told her, trying to calm her down as we made it outside, “we need to get you home and away from here as soon as possible.”
“N-No… No!” She began fighting me, trying to escape my grasp on her. “No! That… That thing is still out there! You saw it! You can’t say you don’t believe me now! It even called you Lucky Dime! It said you brought me back!”
“I’m not saying I don’t believe you!” I shot back. “I do, I saw exactly what you saw, but it’s way too dangerous for you to be out here while you’re the one it’s after!”
“I escaped it once, I can do it again!” Kate pointed out as she struggled against me while I tried getting her into my car. “I’m not running away this time, I want to kill it!”
“God damn it, Blackwell, we’ll let the police handle it! Just because you have a weapon doesn’t make you safe or ready to handle something like… Like that… That thing!”
“It killed my friends! It wants me! I’m going straight to it so I can blow its head off! It’ll come right for me!”
“I came here to bring you back home, not let you accomplish some stupid ass revenge plot! Get in the fucking car, unless you want to end up like those bodies down that-“
“D… De… Detect… Detective…”
A scratched and moaning voice cut me off. Kate and I both froze at the sound of something approaching. I turned to see a police officer stagger toward us from the tree line. I could barely tell who he was or who he used to be, his head held low and blue uniform covered in blood.
“H… Hel… Hel… Help… Help me…" It croaked as it stumbled closer.
I held up Kate's rifle. "Stay back!" I barked. "Not another step!"
The thing that stood before us wearing the cop like a full-bodied suit stopped in place. It swayed where it stood, blood water falling from its head and down to its chest.
"It… It… It's inside… Inside me…" It breathed painfully. "I… I can't… Help… Me…" Its voice then changed to that familiar voice that made my skin crawl. "Lucky… Dime… I… I'm so… Hungry… Give her… To… Me…"
I pulled the trigger of the rifle, hitting the creature in the head, the rest of it staggering backward from the blow. Still though, it remained on its feet, turning itself to look toward us once again.
"Give… Her… To… Me…" It wheeze, blood and brain pouring from where I had shot it, it beginning to stumble toward us once again. I continued shooting, hitting it in the shoulder, the arm, the leg, the head again, but it just kept coming toward us faster, demanding I give Kate to it.
I was about ready to ram it with the rifle, having run out of bullets, when a voice off in the distance made the creature freeze just an inch before us.
"I'm here! I'm here!" It called out in an almost sing-songy way, using the voice of a little girl. "I'm here! I'm here!"
"I'm… Here…" The creature repeated as it jerked its body to look to where the voice was coming from. "I'm here… I'm here… I'm here! I'm here! I'm here!" It began shrieking in a high pitch wail. It sounded like a mixture of different voices ranging from child, to woman, to man. Keeping flat on its feet, its upper body fell forward onto its hands before speedily crawling off like a spider.
We stood in shaking silence for a moment, Kate digging her fingers into my arm while I was too numb from shock to care about the pain she was unknowingly inflicting. It wasn’t until the radio from my car buzzed to life that jolted us back to whatever reality was at this point. I scrambled to the driver’s side, swinging the door open as I fell inside to grab the intercom to respond to the voice yelling for me over the receiver.
“Det. Snow, what the hell is going on up there?” The sheriff’s scratched voice called out over the receiver when I could barely get my name out of my mouth.
“Sh-Sh-Sheriff…?” Was all I could respond with, still trying to wrap my head around what I had just seen.
“Y-Y-Yeah,” he responded in mock shudder, “what the hell is going on up there? I’ve tried radioing every man I’ve got up there and am constantly being left on red! Do I need to send back-up?”
“No!” Immediately, I returned to full reality, finally understanding the severity of the moment and putting that knowledge into my tone. “Landon, do not send any more men up here, call everyone back immediately! I don’t know what this thing is, but it’s too dangerous! Call everyone back, we’re heading back to the Blackwell house now!”
“We?” The sheriff questioned, skepticism in his voice.
“I found Ms. Blackwell, she’s here with me.”
I was met with statice before the voice of Mr. Blackwell blasted over the intercom.
“Bring my daughter home, right now, you son of a bitch!” Mr. Blackwell demanded. “You bring her home this instant before I decide to kick your teeth in!”
I opened my mouth to respond, but the radio was snatched from my hand from Kate. “I’m not coming home until I kill this thing!” She snapped into the radio. “I don’t know what it is, but I at least know I’m not crazy and that it needs to die before it kills anyone else!”
I grabbed the radio from Kate’s hand, beginning to tell her off when a agonized scream erupted from the intercom. I dropped the radio to cover my ears as Kate did, the scream piercing from my car to throughout the forest around us. The voice screaming and crying for help sounded male and it seemed to echo all around us.
“GIVE HER TO ME, YOU SON OF A BITCH!” A mix of the screaming voice and Mr. Blackwell’s hissed out after a good five minutes of screaming before the radio short-circuited and puffs of smoke flowed out.
After allowing my ears to adjust to the sudden silence, I grabbed the radio once again and tried calling for the sheriff, for the cops with us in the mountains, for anyone. When I was met with more silence, I slammed the radio back down on the holder and cursed loudly, hitting the wheel as if it were the source of all my problems.
After a moment to take some deep breaths, I told Kate to get in the car as I placed her rifle in the back seat.
“Didn’t you hear me?” she shot back. “I’m not-“
“Damn it, Blackwell, we have no idea what we’re dealing with, it can mimic peoples’ voices, and it just ran off like a fucking black widow!” I snapped, stepping out of the driver’s seat to glare down at her. “The last thing I’m doing to leaving you here alone and I’m not staying here another second until I can wrap my head around what the fuck I just saw! So, you either get yourself killed out here while I try talking you down this hero complex high, or you’re going to do what I say and get in the damn car!”
We stood in heated silence, glaring each other down before Kate huffed and stormed over to the passenger side of my car and slamming the door shut as she climbed in. I jumped in after her and began driving away from this nutty nightmare I had found myself in.
We drove down the trail back to civilization in silence, Kate staring out the window and trying to keep her tearful sniffs quiet. I had finally begun calming down and was starting to feel bad for snapping at her. She had only gone there to avenge her friends by killing that thing that had most likely killed a whole bunch of cops to find her. However, I still couldn’t just let her stay to hunt it and I didn’t want to stay out in those mountains with some kind of creature that could take the form and voice of someone I knew. I still couldn’t understand what is was I had even seen.
“Wendigo,” Kate whispered, breaking the silence in the car first. She had said it as if she had just remembered something important.
“What?”
“A Wendigo,” She repeated, turning to look to me with wide scared eyes, “that’s what that thing is! It’s a Wendigo!”
“Slow down, what’s a Wendigo?”
“It’s… Oh, just forget it! You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
“Ms. Blackwell, I just saw a cop being used as a puppet and then run off at inhuman speed on all fours; I doubt I’m not going to believe a single word that comes out of your mouth now. What’s a Wendigo?”
Kate eyed me for a moment before releasing some of the tension from her face as she took a deep breath and began explaining to me. “They’re a Native American myth; it’s believed they’re the spirits of people who would lose themselves in the woods and would end up eating other people to satiate their hunger. I think that’s what that thing is. They can mimic the voices of people who died and use it to lure people to them, they can take the form of that person too.”
“Why does it want female hearts?” I asked, not realizing I had yet told her what my mysterious caller kept asking for when they called me.
“It… It wants my heart?” she asked shakily.
I cursed to myself before letting out a frustrated sigh. “I think this thing wants hearts, but it only wants female hearts. Why? I don’t know yet. But the only other person to be found after killing someone in those cabins was found with his partner’s heart missing to which he was blamed for taking out of her. Recently, I’ve been getting calls from some… Thing wanting me to bring you back here so it could take something from you. It would have taken Ms. Greymoore’s, but you hid her well enough that only the police could find her in time. Now, I’ve been getting calls asking for you and to get something from you.”
Kate looked to me in shock before a wave of guilt twisted her face in pain. “I… I’m so, so… So sorry, Detective!” She cried out. “I… I had… I had no idea you were being… Harassed by it! Had I known it wanted me back and was demanding you brought me here, I never… I didn’t… That’s why it said you brought me back! Oh, I’m such an idiot!” She pressed her hands to her face, grabbing at her hair between her fingers and tightening them around her eyes.
“No, no, no, stop, stop that!” I ordered, screeching the car to a halt, having to bring it to a crooked stop so I could stop her from hurting herself. I snatched her arms from her head and pinned them to her lap, tears flooding her face. “It’s my fault for not telling you sooner! I was too focused on trying to solve this case with the most efficient evidence I could, but that just kept me looking to you as a suspect. I should have stopped thinking you were the killer the moment I got that first call. There’s no way any of us could have seen… This coming… Except people who probably already believe in that kind of stuff or don’t stop to assume a more rational explanation like a cult… I’m… I’m sorry. But, I won’t let it take anything from you, not anymore. I’m going to get you home and then I’ll deal with this with the rest of the police department. You don’t have to deal with this thing anymore, it’ll be my burden from now on. You need time to finally get some rest and mourn your friends with your and their families. It’s already fucked your life up enough, I won’t let it go on making it worse.”
I stopped her before she could argue with me with a wave of my hand. “Your friends’ deaths shouldn’t be your burden to handle. I know you want to be the one who kills that thing and do right by them, but that’s not what they would want. They’d want you to remember them and continue living. They know you didn’t do it, so stop blaming yourself and stop acting like you’re the one who has to make it up to them. I will put an end to this die trying, but you need to go home and be with people who are happy you still get to live.”
Kate looked down at her hands that I kept down on her lap before nodding weakly and letting out a broken “okay.”
“Good, now let’s get you home before-“
My words were cut off when the honk of a car barreling toward us echoed through the woods. The headlights were fast approaching and I barely had time to grab the gear shift to put us back in drive as the other vehicle hit us, forcing us back and forth in one violent motion. It took me a moment to check myself to be sure I hadn’t hit my head on anything or got whiplash from the crash before I immediately returned my full attention to Kate who was kneeling over holding her head. I gently grabbed her shoulder and pulled her up to examine her head. It didn’t appear to have been busted and bleeding, but she was holding the front side of her forehead.
“Are you okay?” I asked her, prying her hand away from the spot on her forehead, seeing that it was beginning to bruise. “Can you hear me? Blink twice if you can understand me!”
“I… I’m f-fine…” she mumbled as she looked to her hand to check if there was blood on her palm, “I… I think I just… Hit… Hit the w-window…” She then blinked twice in my direction before looking to the car that had rammed us.
I turned my attention as well to the car to see it was a police van, it’s front crushed into the left of my front. I quickly jumped out my vehicle and stormed to the van, yelling at who ever was driving the van to come out and explain what the hell they were doing.
The driver’s side of the van swung open once I was near enough and a man in an orange jumpsuit climbed out, staring familiar daggers at me. The moment realization set in, my mixed emotions of confusion, frustration, and fear turned to fury.
It was Leighton Raines.
“Jesus, you really are a shitty detective.” Was all he said to me before reaching into the can and retrieving a rifle out from the passenger seat.
[END OF PART 1]
Part 6

Timestamp and videos https://imgur.com/WbglQ6B
Please let me know if the videos don't ever load. Imgur is acting like... Imgur. Asking 180$ for either knife OBO, YOLO>Anything else. PPGS only.
Both knives were users, I am the original owner of both, both knives have only been sharpened once and are still very sharp without any noticeable chips that I can see. Both have been stripped twice for routine maintenance, both have the obvious signs of use on backspacer, clip, and scales. In the case of the GOM pvd is rubbed off on the bolsters in a few spots, and the non show side thumb hole from where I've been reverse flicking it for ages. Both knives have their OG packaging and will come with them. For whatever reason, the GOM's cert of authenticity is like glued to the top of the case under the foam. I don't want to try to rip it off in case someone is more of a collector but it is there.
The Crypt has one of my favorite actions of all knives. Very hydraulic in its controlled descent as it is slow shaked shut. Very snappy, and pleasing acoustics. I'm sad to let it go, but the stonewash is really prone to rust where I am currently in FL. I rubbed a few spots off the blade, dissembled and re oiled it, and haven't carried it in like 6 months due to fear of rust. Despite the blade being m390, I don't recommend humid conditions. Bestech I believe was the OEM and I was genuinely baffled how good the action is. Appears to be dead on centered. Asking 180$ shipped anywhere in the Continental US.
The G.O.M. is drop shut with very little encouragement, but can be tuned down to a more shake shut drop if that is your preference. Very snappy, all deployments work perfectly. I love this knife. I will probably buy another one down the line but only time will tell. This was one of the special editions that was oil can bronze/black pvd. As advertised oils on the hands make the bronze look purple and iridescent but it's not super noticeable. The knifes backspacer has the worst snail trails, the rest of the knife is still in good condition for the years it's seen in my pocket. Also appears dead on centered. Asking 180$ shipped anywhere in the Continental US.

THESE ARE ALL ALLEGATIONS I HAVE NO PROOF OTHER THAN WHAT I SAW AND THE PEOPLE WHO ATTENDED THE EVENT WITH ME
I made a post last night seeking advise for these sick animals in hopes I could contact the breeder and rescue these snakes. All of his social media pertaining to his business has been deleted, probably for some time now. I have no way of reaching out to rescue these animals, so I intend on posting these allegations in hopes of protecting others from doing business with him and of course raising awareness of maltreatment of these innocent snakes.
This is based in Washington state, at the Cascadia Reptile Expo from 5.18 - 5.19. The alleged sick hognoses are being sold by Evergreen State Reptiles owned by Shane Wooldridge.
As a recap this is what I saw to the best of my memory,
Multiple adult female hognoses marked at $300-$500 or so, one snow, one arctic, and I believe 2 normals along with multiple males.
He was selling many species of snakes and maybe lizards, but I was fixed on the hognoses. At a glance the other species of snakes and male hognoses looked to be in good condition, but that's all it was; a glance. As for the sick female hognoses, I did take 3 out of the deli cups with permission to handle and examine them.
The snow female had a lage scab on her face around the jaw area, and a pustle erupting from her head that looked like a massive pimple filled with whitish yellow puss. She was shaped like a pyramid, emaciated, spine poking out along her whole body and slim neck to emphasize the jaw bones. When I lifted her up where her umbilical cord had once been attached to her body, it was split open very obviously. It was healed over with exposed skin in the center.
The breeder claims he was told not to breed her due to the deformed umbilical scar, but did so anyways and she was fine. He also claimed she recently laid and was being fed small meals which is why she was emaciated, and if fed anything larger she would regurg. He claims her scab was an injury from the water dish. He said he'd give me a discount on her for the injuries and once she shed and eaten more she'd be fine. He also offered a discount for buying multiple.
The next female I examined I believe to be an arctic, she was also emaciated with her spine poking out along her whole body. Slim neck with jaw bones protruding. I don't recall the belly looking abnormal, but she had a bulbed tail. It felt hard at the bulb but it wasn't the biggest bulbed tail I'd ever seen. The breeder claimed she just needed to be fattened up and you wouldn't be able to notice it, he also claimed she had recently laid which was she was emaciated.
The last snake I examined was a normal, over all she had a nice plump figure and looked decent from the top. However, when I picked her up she had 2 belly scales lifted completely up while the others sat flat. These 2 scales were lifted at least a couple millimeters, filled with a pocket of yellow green puss that looked like it would explode at any moment. I have a horrible sense of smell, I cannot smell almost all of the time. This snake stunk, and she was sticky too. You could smell the infection before you got to the table, my friend with a sensitive sense of smell said the area reeked.
The breeder claims she was bred and could possibly be gravid and it was a loss for him but didn't want her. After I noticed the puss filled scales he asked to be handed the snake, he felt her and said he couldn't feel eggs. He then claimed the puss filled wounds were caused by a water dish, and he needs to sand them down. I wrangled her into the deli cup and told him I'd be back.
At no point did I comment on the wounds and state of these snakes, I simply examined them and the breeder freely made these claims to me without ever being asked. As well as acting as though he had never seen the pustle or infected belly scales.
After I left I asked another vendor to use their hand sanitizer and immediately went looking for a bathroom to wash my hands. I approached another vendor and told them what I saw and they were shocked and disgusted. They pointed out event staff to report what I saw to which I did immediately. I will be following up with them to see if they saw what I did or if the snakes were no longer on the table.
When I got home I put all my clothes in the wash and took a shower. I own 8 hognoses and glove between all of them, but I'm still going to be paranoid regardless.
I feel so horrible for those poor babies, and now I'm horrified for anyone who buys from this breeder or handled his animals and possibly cross contaminates. I'm no expert so there's small things I could've missed.
Again these are all allegations, I have no proof so please use your own judgment. Sorry for the long read but his is very wrong and needs to be known. No animal deserves to be treated like this.

The mysterious gothic woman of STARRY’s PA booth, PA-san was never properly introduced. She is just always… there… as Seika’s ever-present shadow. Only ever called by her job title we don't even know her actual name.
I dug through the manga, anime, and Kikuri spinoff to see what all I could find on this enigmatic character. If there is any external official information about PA-san I missed then please let me know. Chapteepisode references are included where I could (manga: [#] anime: [ep#] spinoff: [s#]). There is some discussion of the PA/Seika ship.
Appearance: PA-san has long black hair and is one of the taller characters in the series. Like Bocchi, she is actually also one of the most well-endowed characters in the series ‘though it is also normally hard to tell due to how she dresses [75]. She likes to wear long dark clothes, has multiple piercings in both ears + one on her lower lip, and (‘though not directly seen in the main series yet?) has a split tongue [s12]. It feels likely that her habit of sometimes covering her mouth with her sleeve when speaking is to hide her tongue. She appears to be left-handed, which is easiest to see in how she holds her chopsticks in the anime [ep8].
It has long been noticed by fans that PA-san and Seika both wear a black choker almost all the time. It is unknown if there is a deeper reason for this or if it is just a coincidence. For what it is worth, we don’t see either of them wearing a choker in any of the flashbacks we’ve gotten so it does seem be a relatively recent addition to their fashion. That being said, their chokers aren’t exactly matching. PA-san’s sometimes has a ring attached to its front; in the manga Seika’s is consistently a bit thinner than PA-san’s while in the anime it just a bit lighter in color instead. It can also be noted there are also several other characters who wear chokers, most notably SIDEROS’s Tsuki (always) and Akubi (sometimes) [27]. Even Nijika and Kita’s outfits sometimes include one.
Personal life: Her exact age is unknown but she relates well with the other adults in their late 20's/early 30's. As a child she was quite active and sporty [75] but she ended up failing out of high school in her first year due to not being able to wake up early in the mornings. Even now this is hard for her to do which is why she likes night jobs [26]. Being low energy in general, PA-san is perhaps the least active of the main adult trio, preferring to simply observe the amusing antics going on around her. Along with Seika and Hiroi, she feels detached from normal adult society and is somewhat envious of the youthful girls. PA-san is especially self-conscious about her skin condition [26, s4]. She lives alone and is pretty lonely [38]. Outside of working at STARRY, she also livestreams playing video games as a VTuber under the name Otogi Alto (音戯アルト; the kanji for Otogi might be read literally as “sound-play”) [39]. Through that identity she became good online pals with SICKHACK’s Eliza as her oshi [s12]. Although PA-san comes off as the gentlest and most stable of the adults, she is able to be quite ruthless with a smile [24] and is just as capable of mood swings as the others.
STARRY: PA-san is the most trusted (and apparently only other adult) member of Seika’s staff. At the start of the series STARRY had opened up just “recently” so it seems likely PA-san has been employed there from the very beginning [1]. PA-san’s role as the… well… PA means she has perhaps the most technical job. But beyond that she backs up Seika by stepping in when any troubles arise (like when Yami was stirring things up) [23-4] and interpreting her tsundere-speak [ep5]. PA-san seems to find great amusement in observing Seika. She shows little fear towards her employer, regularly poking her about her soft spot for Nijika/Bocchi/Kessoku Band, calling her out on irrational behavior, and able to go as far as smashing a cake in her face without much hesitation [40].
In saying all of this, they do not really show obvious signs of being close outside of a professional relationship. It seems unlikely they knew each other before Seika hired her seeing how Seika didn’t learn of PA-san’s childhood until recently [75] and PA-san likewise hasn’t shown familiarity with Seika’s past. It is even technically unconfirmed if Seika herself remembers PA-san’s real name. As her employer Seika HAS to know PA-san’s name to some extent but we’ve never seen her use it. At the same time, Seika has also doesn't call her “PA-san” like the others, instead seemingly only using impersonal pronouns. There is a point in the manga where Seika could be calling her “PA-san” [26], but in context I think it is Kikuri speaking. In the end, it seems likely that Seika really does know her name and would use it rather than calling her "PA-san" but is too gruff to ever do so. On her part, PA-san similarly only ever calls Seika “Manager”, something Seika insists on even with her sister.
Various anime differences:
PA-san must've been pretty well liked by the anime staff because she was actually given several additional appearances and small interactions in the anime, which mostly solidify her identity as Seika’s shadow. Then in general, PA-san is always wearing a choker unlike in the manga where there are a few times she isn’t wearing it even at STARRY and, like Bocchi, her body’s proportions were made much more subdued in the anime's art style.

• OP: She appears in three places: 1) Standing behind Seika waving her arm. 2) In the background of (1) they seem to be back-to-back as her pierced ear and dark hair can be briefly seen before Seika and her gaze completely takes over the screen. 3) Standing near Seika at STARRY’s bar.
• Ep2: While Seika is watching Nijika freak out over Bocchi, PA-san mentions to her it looks like things will be fun with Bocchi around.
• Ep3: PA-san smells then compliments Kita on her shampoo.
• Ep5: PA-san stops looking at her phone to observe the Ijichi sibling drama. When Ryo shows Seika the picture of her sleeping with a stuffed animal, PA-san slinks up behind them to take a look herself and calls it cute. She giggles at Bocchi acting like a dog. PA-san watches Kessoku Band’s audition along with Seika and translates her tsundere-speech for them.
• Ep8: PA-san joins in the afterparty where she can be seen quietly drinking some kind of purple beverage next to Seika. Her one line is disagreeing with Seika that rather than Bocchi’s weird faces being scary they have got personality.
• Ep12: As her final appearance, PA-san seems to sense Seika getting excited about Bocchi’s surprise birthday present.

Despite the many additions, there were also a few appearances in the manga that did not make it into the anime.

• Ep8: Many of the teru teru bouzu Bocchi had made were really quite terrifying, so upon first entering STARRY, PA-san asks Seika when she had turned the place into a haunted house [12].
• Ep9: We see Nijika talking music and food with PA-san [14]. Along with most of the rest of this chapter about the girls studying for exams, the adults displaying their uselessness in helping the girls study got cut [16].

[Shipping discussion. Feel free to ignore.] I personally like the PA/Seika ship. They are almost always seen together, have interesting chemistry, are otherwise single, and – coincidence or not – their chokers are really hard to ignore. This sounds good enough to me, especially for a Kirara series. Seika does have other ships that fans support (Bocchi or Kikuri seem to be the other most common) but both of them have other good ships of their own while for PA-san it is basically just Seika, so I just naturally gravitate towards this pairing. But I freely admit there isn’t anything concrete in the series to suggest they’re much more than employeemployee with a good relationship. If they ARE in a relationship then they're doing a good job hiding it considering how even little-sis Nijika doesn't seem to suspect anything. They did have a VERY shippy chapter-art together [75], but the same happened with Bocchi/Ohtsuki [40] (among many others) and it might be best to just treat all of the artworks as the simple references they are.

I see so many beauty gurus doing sponsorships for prescription strength topicals like tretinoin via telehealth appointments. In the sponsored video they always claim the product has cleared up their acne and reduced their wrinkles…in other videos they talk about how their skin is peeling right now, breaking out/purging, or they’ve recently had Botox injections to help with their wrinkles.
If you use tretinoin or a similar product and love it, do you, I’ve tried them and hated them. I think it’s crazy to start using them without seeing a dermatologist in person. I think they made my skin look worse and I think for most beauty gurus it’s going to make their skin look worse because they’re constantly applying new makeup and skincare with active ingredients that irritate their skin that much more on top of tretinoin use (when I used tretinoin I was told to use a gentle cleanser and cerave moisturizing cream and that was it. These women are using tretinoin along with vitamin c, glycolic acid, otc retinoids, etc.) I also don’t think any of them are using adequate spf considering tretinoin causes such rapid skin cell turnover.
It just seems so irresponsible to me and I think a lot of women are going to regret using these products 10-15 years from now.

Hey everyone!:D this is my first post here;
I'm looking for a person I can casually chat with- I'm not suuper sociable, and I can't guarantee I'll be messaging 24/7, but this is my way to keep myself busy while not stressing too much about meeting people irl! I don't like starting a conversation with a set goal in mind, so honestly whatever happens, happens:)
English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if sometimes my sentences don't make any sense lol
About myself: I'm a bit of a homebody, so I enjoy pretty much any hobby that that involves me staying home lol- drawing (both my hobby and what I'm studying in uni), consuming horror media in general, gaming esp. indie games, watching hours of silly video essays, baking... I also am a sucker for second hand clothes/ thrifting and fashion in general so If you're into that too, feel free to share some pics of your thrift finds/outfits!
Personality wise, I'm an introvert by nature- l am basically the definition of a "black cat" that needs their "golden retriever" person or else she'll be stuck in her room all day without talking to a single human lol; that was a bit dramatic but yeah, I tend to gravitate towards extroverted people who are patient and gentle:)
With that said, feel free to message me If you're around my age or older, but please be nice and respectful m'kay?

I never believed in monsters, but the events of last week made me question those beliefs to a great extent.
The job seemed pretty simple at first: some people saw a strange creature in the woods and the mayor of their little no name town was willing to pay me for taking it down. He offered me 5000 dollars for shooting what was probably just a mangy bear, I’d be a fool for turning him down. Besides, he even paid me half of it in advance AND offered to lend me the keys to a private bungalow near the forest, to make my stay more comfortable. It took some time for the keys to arrive (postal services be damned), but after about a week it was time for me to head out. I packed my rifle, ammunition and some clothes and got in my truck. This would be the job of a lifetime.
When I arrived at the town, there were no signs of life. I chalked it up to it being 11 PM on a Tuesday, but even so, you’d expect at least a few lights to be on, right? Nevertheless, I continued driving until I reached my “home” for the coming few days.
The bungalow was small, it looked more like a cabin. Then again, I wasn’t here for a vacation anyways, I was here to work. As I tried unlocking the front door, I noticed it was already open. Strange, I thought to myself, but nothing unusual. It’s not like you’d have to worry about people breaking into your house in a small town in bumfuck nowhere.
Once inside, I threw my bag on the floor and plopped down onto a chair. It was a long drive, and I was tired. After grabbing a beer from my bag I began to mentally prepare for the days to come. Tomorrow, I would visit the mayor and ask for any leads of their “creature’s” whereabouts, after which I would spend the remainder of the day scouring the forest for any tracks. If my hunt wasn’t successful by then I would simply try again the day after. Easy job, easy plan and easy money. I finished my beer and decided to go to bed.
That night, I was awoken by my stomach’s inability to digest alcohol. I rushed to the bathroom while vomit started to work its way up my throat. Sadly, I was too late, and now the bathroom door was covered in beer and the half-digested sandwiches I had the day before. I cussed for a while, thinking about how stupid this whole situation was. Sure, my body had not been the same since the accident, but I never had trouble drinking before. After sitting there for a while I went searching for something to clean up my work of art. A thorough inspection of the bungalow led me to a closet, where I finally found a mop and went to town on my stomach’s content.
I was humming a little song to help lighten up my mood, but when I heard someone humming back to me from outside my whole demeanor changed. I quit cleaning immediately and snuck over to my backpack. As soon as I did that, the humming stopped and was replaced by a man’s voice.
“Sorry… Didn’t want to startle you there… Buddy!” the mysterious man said, with no discernable emotion in his voice.
I sat in silence, loading my rifle while I listened to the man outside. Sure, it was no bear, but random people hanging around your place in the middle of the night rarely spell good news. I waited for him to start speaking again, but he did not resume talking, no matter how long I sat there in silence. An hour had passed and still he had not said a word. I figured it was probably just a local drunk that found his way to the cabin, heard me hum, hummed along like a merry drunk guy would and then left because why not. Drunk guys do what drunk guys do. After coming up with this rational explanation, I went to sleep again, thinking about how weird that whole situation had been.
When I woke up in the morning my stomach pain was gone. I got out of bed, packed my stuff and headed to my truck. I noticed the scratches on the truck almost immediately. I remember thinking that it must have been that drunk guy from the night before and that I would make him pay for this if I ever saw him again. Angrily, I got in the car and drove over to the town hall. On my way there, I once again noticed the lack of people in the street. The road being empty on a Tuesday night made perfect sense, but not even one person having to drive to work on a Wednesday morning? That’s suspicious, and it should have been one of the many things that should’ve made me reconsider the job. My car needed a new paint job though, and even then, I’ve always been a stubborn bastard. As I drove, I thought I saw someone move behind a building in my rear view mirror, but I didn’t get a clear view of the person. I felt happy to see that there actually were people in this town, so I continued my drive.
When I got to the town hall the first thing I noticed was the broken window. That drunk guy must’ve vandalized more than just my truck, I thought at the moment. I got out of my car and walked up to the front door, which was open, and entered the building. Upon walking into the entrance hall I was met by a rotten smell. My vomit would’ve been all over the floor if it hadn’t been for my little adventure yesterday, that’s how bad it was. It smelled like a mixture of dead animals, fermenting plants and rotting milk. I considered turning around and leaving right then and there, but I decided to at least try to talk to the mayor, to find out what was going on. Curiosity killed the cat, I thought, but I was no cat. Stupid as I was, I didn’t bother going back to the car to get my rifle. What was the worst thing that could happen? Against better judgment, I went to search for the mayor.
When I found him, his body was lying on the floor, completely dead. He was missing an arm and his face. His torso had been ripped to shreds. His office had been completely ruined too, with random office supplies and some antique vases lying scattered on the floor, along with a picture of the mayor and his wife. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, I heard a familiar voice coming from the hallway: the drunk guy from last night.
“Hey… I know you’re in here somewhere… Dude,” he said, his voice still as monotone as before.
His footsteps were heavy, growing louder with every step as he got closer and closer. Along with his footsteps, the sound of something being dragged across the floor could be heard. I even heard his breathing, heavy and labored, as he neared the mayor’s office. Suddenly, all of the sounds stopped. I knew he was right outside the door, waiting for me to make a move. I just sat there, regretting my choice of not taking my rifle with me. Then I realized something. I realized that I’m a 6’3 foot man who weighs 250 pounds and also used to be a boxer in his younger years. I got up with my fists ready to throw some punches and decided to make this man regret screwing with my car. I could hear the man scratching at the wall as I neared the door.
“Found you!” he yelled, his voice sounding more guttural than before.
I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder as my aggressor knocked me to the floor, followed by the warm sensation of blood flowing out of my wound. I remember thinking that the bastard had stabbed me.
The man jumped at me before I was able to regain my balance, forcing me to roll to the side to avoid him. That’s when I noticed that this “man” wasn’t a person at all. At the moment, all I could see was something vaguely bipedal, hunched over a bit and covered in long black fur. What I thought had been a knife were actually a set of long claws on each hand.
The creature began to turn towards me, and I took this as my sign to move. I picked up a vase that was lying next to me and threw it at the monster, hitting it straight in the head. Then I got up in an instant and booked it. As I was running, I could hear the creature following me closely behind. Its roars became more and more animalistic with each passing second, clearly enraged from my attempt to fight back. I practically jumped down the stairs, nearly breaking my legs in the process, after which I continued my sprint towards the door. Without thinking twice I just busted through the surprisingly weak door.
Once outside, I noticed more creatures coming at me in the corner of my eyes. Filled with adrenaline, I ran to my truck, got inside and started the engine. That’s when the creature from earlier came falling down in the parking space right next to me. The bastard had jumped through the first floor’s window. When it got up, I finally got a good look at the thing. The thing that I heard it drag across the floor was its tail, and the things that stabbed me and scratched my car were the massive claws on its hands. Yet the thing that got me the most, the thing that will forever haunt my dreams, was its face. Or, to put it in better words, the contorted face of a man, plastered over its head. It was the same face I saw on the mayor’s picture.
I stepped on the gas and floored it. While driving, I noticed more and more creatures started to give chase, each one wearing a different face. I drove as fast as I could until they were all out of sight and I had left the town. Even then, I did not drop my speed, probably committing multiple traffic violations as I drove. But I did not care. The stuff I saw there was way above my paygrade, and I wanted to get as far away from it as possible. I drove for hours, only stopping to tank my car.
This incident happened a few days ago. Currently, I’m still in the hospital, waiting for the wound in my shoulder to heal. The doctors say I’m lucky that I can still move my arm. Sure, I’m happy to be alive, but life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows for me. I’ve racked up more debt than the 2500 dollars can pay and as if that wasn’t enough, men in black suits have been interviewing me ever since I got here. So if you’re reading this, please just remember one thing: if some guy offers you 5000 dollars just to shoot a bear, stay away. Because there’s no way in hell those things were bears.

Chapter 4
Location: Glimmer Fate
POV: Faror Hend
No rain on the plains in Glimmer Fate. High black grasses make the area extremely hot. Faror Hend is patrolling the edge of the Vitr Sea with her cousin Spinnock Durav. The shore of the Vitr Sea is devoid of life and the breeze coming off of it stings the lungs. The liquid of the sea dissolves almost anything it comes into contact with including stones. Spinnock is sharpening his Hust blade on a stone that has been worn away by the sea. His blade is very old and therefore does not sing. It's new to him, but has been passed down for generations. A third rider in their party, Finarra Stone, was scouting the shoreline out of sight. Nothing lived this close, so it was safe to go alone. Today the Vitr is calm, but recently it has not been and storms had resulted in its claiming more land for the sea. The sea is expanding. Eventually it will come to the border of Kurald Galain if they cannot find a solution. The Tiste have no idea what the source of the Vitr is and how to stop it's expansion. Tiste scholars are also unwilling to consult with anyone outside the Tiste.
Faror Hend is extremely attracted to Spinnock Durav, but their houses are too close in relations for her to act on this attraction. Plus she is betrothed and older, although these would not be a barrier to her. Faror thinks of a line from a Gallan poem, "The ground is bare and hard / and will hold all secrets / and the sky cares not / for the games of those beneath it." She desperately wants to act on her lust, but so far has kept in control. Faror is a big Gallan fan. Spinnock seems to know how his cousin feels and teases her.
POV: Captain Finarra Stone
During her patrol of the Vitr coastline, Finarra finds a carcass. This is puzzling as she has never seen one this close to the sea. It appears to have come out of the sea itself. The corpse is huge with scales and a tail. But a lot of the body eaten away by the Vitr. The head and neck were missing and the top of the torso appears chewed. Very few Tiste had ever claimed to have seen a dragon, but this could be one. However, those legends all had them with wings and Faror did not see any evidence of wings on this beast. A breeze brought the stench to the horse and this caused it to back up a few steps making noise. At this the stump where the neck should be lifted. The creature begins shuffling towards her. With an unbelievably fast lurch it closes the distance and swipes at Faror and her horse with two arms catching the horse with both swipes. Faror finds herself tumbling through the air. She lands on her shoulder and breaks something. The beast is still again after decimating her horse. She decides to head for flatter ground to make better time back to her party. She is the daughter of Hust Henarald and possesses his sword. Her biggest threat now were the naked wolves that roamed Glimmer Fate. Faror contemplates the meaning of dark and light and the impossibility of either without the other. She also says that Mother Dark had been a mortal Tiste woman before embracing darkness. While Finarra is contemplating, something screams at her intending to freeze her with fear. Finarra mortally wounds it as it streaks by.
POV: Faror Hend
Hearing the screams of the wolves and no sound of their prey, Faror fears Finarra is the prey. She has not returned and it has been too long. Faror decides to leave Spinnock at camp and go to investigate. He tells her to be careful and he doesn't want to lose her. She responds by saying that he has many cousins. Faror can hear at least a dozen wolves and knows that it is likely that Finarra is fighting by herself without her horse. Thinking of Spinnock's face, she attempts to replace it in her mind with her betrothed, Kagamandra Tulas. A Tiste who the war had made gaunt. Tulas was of a low house and was under the command of Vatha Urusander. This alone would not have made house Durav attempt a betrothal. However, in the war he had saved the life of Silchas Ruin and by doing so had earned the favor of Mother Dark who would reward him by making him the head of a new High House. She thinks that the war stole Tulas's ability to love anything and she is not sure she can love him either, but she will try.
Eventually she finds the place of the wolf attack. There are many dead wolves. The fighting is over, but she does not see Finarra. She thinks further down the trail she will find wolves eating her corpse. Finarra comes out from behind some boulders. Faror begins to speak, but Finarra tells her to speak softly as something has walked out of the Vitr. Finarra chastises Faror for beginning to follow the path through the grasses that would have led to her death. Faror discovers that she had almost welcomed it. Finarra was tracking whatever had walked out of the Vitr when she came upon Faror. "Small footprints, puddles of Vitr pooled in them" She tells Faror that it is their duty to track it.
POV: Finarra Stone
Finarra in a lot of pain from her shoulder and wolf bites, contemplates the look she caught in Faror's eyes. One that told her she was seeking death. She thinks the cause may be Faror's betrothal to a broken man that may be incapable of love and being in close proximity to Spinnock who oozes it. "Spinnock Durav had been pursued by women and men since he had first come of age. He had learned to not give up too much of himself, since those hands reaching for him desired little more than conquest and possession." Finarra has also caught Spinnock's adoration of his cousin turning in to something else. She knows this kind of torture between them will ruin them. She contemplates how to fix the situation. Transferring one might work, but also thinks of another more sure answer.
POV: Faror Hend
Faror and Finarra are both on the back of Faror's horse. Finarra is unconscious and Faror is having a difficult time keeping her on the horse. She thinks about Finarra only being a few years older than her, but already being a battle veteran. She realizes that the wolves she found were not the ones killed by Finarra, but those of the someone that came from the sea. Faror makes it back to the camp. They treat the unconscious woman's wounds fearing infection.
POV: Spinnock Durav
They had burned away the dead flesh and infection on Finarra's leg hoping they got it all. Finarra has not woken up and is fevered. Spinnock outlines their options whether to stay until Finarra wakes up or to try to transport her as is. Faror informs him that Finarra wanted them to track the stranger from the Vitr. Faror tells Spinnock that Finarra needs a healer and soon, but they also need to track the stranger. Faror will go after the stranger and Spinnock will take Finarra to the outpost. Spinnock follows orders, but now there is a coldness between the cousins.
Following the trail she had discovered the previous night, Faror Hend found several more wolf corpses all killed with savage blows. The path she now followed, if kept straight, would lead directly to Kharkanas. Eventually she comes to a clearing and finds a fair-skinned, blonde woman clothed only in a scaled wolf hide over her shoulders. Everywhere else was sunburnt. She appears young and has no weapon, which is curious considering her roughly cut hair and several wolf corpses. Faror says she means no harm and asks if she is an Azathanai. To this the woman responds, "I know your language. But it is not mine. Azathanai. I know that word. Azat drevlid naratarh Azathanai. The people who were never born." After a few questions that the woman cannot answer, she tells Faror that she recalls nothing not even the sea she came out of or her own name. Faror tells the woman that she will escort her to Kharkanas to meet with Mother Dark and gives the woman a Tiste name until she can recall her own. The name is T'riss. Upon hearing this the woman smiles and says, "I am “born of the sea”. Faror asks if she will walk or ride with her. T'riss says that Faror's horse looks useful and she will have one too. She turns to the grasses and conjures a horse out of them. It seems that it's weight is too much for the grasses used. Looking at Faror, T'riss then conjures clothes, lance, and a sword out of the same grasses. This scares Faror because it is god-like sorcery. "‘Mother Dark.’ T’riss smiled. ‘That is a nice title.’"
Location: 3 days out from Neret Sorr
POV: Sharenas Ankhadu
Sharenas likes the heat. She tans nice unlike most of her cohort. She hates the cold and remembers her time in the campaign against the Jheleck unfondly. She is the commander of her cohort. Her sister and cousin, Infayen Menand and Tathe Lorat, are greatly renowned in the legion and being related to them saw high expectations settled onto Sharenas's shoulders. Her relatives are not currently with the legion. Hunn Raal and Osserc are in the vanguard and Ilgast Rend was not happy to be with them. He questions whether or not Urusander knows what Hunn Raal is doing. Osserc backs up Raal and so Ilgast drops the inquiry. Sharenas thinks Osserc is lying when he says his father knows of and approves this expedition. Sharenas thinks, "Hunn Raal is honourable. He knows what he is doing, and he knows, as do we all, that what he is doing is the right thing to do" She thinks Osserc is impulsive and has a thin skin, but Hunn Raal keeps him from making brash decisions. 3 cousins of Hunn Raal also accompanied them. Serap, Risp, and Sevegg all sleep with Hunn Raal, but their second cousins so it's not illegal. The last of their party is Kagamandra Tulas. He is forbidding and dangerous and hadn't spoken since their departure. They are heading towards the Warden outpost where Tulas's betrothed is stationed. Sharenas asserts that every woman could see that Tulas is dead inside and left his soul in the war. That he longs for death. She contemplates that once Urusander remakes the Tiste into a meritocracy, that arranged marriages will no longer be. Ironically because Tulas had given so much in defense of the Tiste he would be a prize as a husband. She pities Faror Hend and her future with this man. However she considers that Faror, just days after the betrothal, signed up with the wardens to get herself as far away as possible. Sharenas is very interested in witnessing the meeting between Tulas and Faror. She resolves to help Faror out of her predicament although it is only for her own amusement.
POV: Ilgast Rend
Ilgast does not like Hunn Raal or Osserc, thinking the former vain and arrogant and the latter nothing like his father except in appearance. Ilgast does not approve of all the debauchery that his fighting had bought for the Tiste. He thinks that Urusander has lost the plot himself. It wouldn't be long before the legion rebelled under his indifference. He would love it if Draconus was put in his place, but fears this would result in great bloodshed and does not want that. He also knows that if Hunn Raal is allowed to lead the legion in Urusander's absence, civil war was assured. "In a world of blood, everyone drowns". Ilgast is disappointed in Sharenas, thinking she would be wise enough not to fall into the wake of Hunn Raal. He feels he is in the middle of this brewing conflict being of a major house and also a cohort commander in Urusander's legion. Hunn Raal thinks he will help him convince the wardens to join his cause. However, he knows Calat Hustain will not join Hunn Raal. He is far too loyal to his own house. Ilgast remembers when Mother Dark was just a Tiste woman until she found the Gate. "Darkness was many things; most of all, it was selfish"

I never believed in monsters, but the events of last week made me question those beliefs to a great extent.
The job seemed pretty simple at first: some people saw a strange creature in the woods and the mayor of their little no name town was willing to pay me for taking it down. He offered me 5000 dollars for shooting what was probably just a mangy bear, I’d be a fool for turning him down. Besides, he even paid me half of it in advance AND offered to lend me the keys to a private bungalow near the forest, to make my stay more comfortable. It took some time for the keys to arrive (postal services be damned), but after about a week it was time for me to head out. I packed my rifle, ammunition and some clothes and got in my truck. This would be the job of a lifetime.
When I arrived at the town, there were no signs of life. I chalked it up to it being 11 PM on a Tuesday, but even so, you’d expect at least a few lights to be on, right? Nevertheless, I continued driving until I reached my “home” for the coming few days.
The bungalow was small, it looked more like a cabin. Then again, I wasn’t here for a vacation anyways, I was here to work. As I tried unlocking the front door, I noticed it was already open. Strange, I thought to myself, but nothing unusual. It’s not like you’d have to worry about people breaking into your house in a small town in bumfuck nowhere.
Once inside, I threw my bag on the floor and plopped down onto a chair. It was a long drive, and I was tired. After grabbing a beer from my bag I began to mentally prepare for the days to come. Tomorrow, I would visit the mayor and ask for any leads of their “creature’s” whereabouts, after which I would spend the remainder of the day scouring the forest for any tracks. If my hunt wasn’t successful by then I would simply try again the day after. Easy job, easy plan and easy money. I finished my beer and decided to go to bed.
That night, I was awoken by my stomach’s inability to digest alcohol. I rushed to the bathroom while vomit started to work its way up my throat. Sadly, I was too late, and now the bathroom door was covered in beer and the half-digested sandwiches I had the day before. I cussed for a while, thinking about how stupid this whole situation was. Sure, my body had not been the same since the accident, but I never had trouble drinking before. After sitting there for a while I went searching for something to clean up my work of art. A thorough inspection of the bungalow led me to a closet, where I finally found a mop and went to town on my stomach’s content.
I was humming a little song to help lighten up my mood, but when I heard someone humming back to me from outside my whole demeanor changed. I quit cleaning immediately and snuck over to my backpack. As soon as I did that, the humming stopped and was replaced by a man’s voice.
“Sorry… Didn’t want to startle you there… Buddy!” the mysterious man said, with no discernable emotion in his voice.
I sat in silence, loading my rifle while I listened to the man outside. Sure, it was no bear, but random people hanging around your place in the middle of the night rarely spell good news. I waited for him to start speaking again, but he did not resume talking, no matter how long I sat there in silence. An hour had passed and still he had not said a word. I figured it was probably just a local drunk that found his way to the cabin, heard me hum, hummed along like a merry drunk guy would and then left because why not. Drunk guys do what drunk guys do. After coming up with this rational explanation, I went to sleep again, thinking about how weird that whole situation had been.
When I woke up in the morning my stomach pain was gone. I got out of bed, packed my stuff and headed to my truck. I noticed the scratches on the truck almost immediately. I remember thinking that it must have been that drunk guy from the night before and that I would make him pay for this if I ever saw him again. Angrily, I got in the car and drove over to the town hall. On my way there, I once again noticed the lack of people in the street. The road being empty on a Tuesday night made perfect sense, but not even one person having to drive to work on a Wednesday morning? That’s suspicious, and it should have been one of the many things that should’ve made me reconsider the job. My car needed a new paint job though, and even then, I’ve always been a stubborn bastard. As I drove, I thought I saw someone move behind a building in my rear view mirror, but I didn’t get a clear view of the person. I felt happy to see that there actually were people in this town, so I continued my drive.
When I got to the town hall the first thing I noticed was the broken window. That drunk guy must’ve vandalized more than just my truck, I thought at the moment. I got out of my car and walked up to the front door, which was open, and entered the building. Upon walking into the entrance hall I was met by a rotten smell. My vomit would’ve been all over the floor if it hadn’t been for my little adventure yesterday, that’s how bad it was. It smelled like a mixture of dead animals, fermenting plants and rotting milk. I considered turning around and leaving right then and there, but I decided to at least try to talk to the mayor, to find out what was going on. Curiosity killed the cat, I thought, but I was no cat. Stupid as I was, I didn’t bother going back to the car to get my rifle. What was the worst thing that could happen? Against better judgment, I went to search for the mayor.
When I found him, his body was lying on the floor, completely dead. He was missing an arm and his face. His torso had been ripped to shreds. His office had been completely ruined too, with random office supplies and some antique vases lying scattered on the floor, along with a picture of the mayor and his wife. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, I heard a familiar voice coming from the hallway: the drunk guy from last night.
“Hey… I know you’re in here somewhere… Dude,” he said, his voice still as monotone as before.
His footsteps were heavy, growing louder with every step as he got closer and closer. Along with his footsteps, the sound of something being dragged across the floor could be heard. I even heard his breathing, heavy and labored, as he neared the mayor’s office. Suddenly, all of the sounds stopped. I knew he was right outside the door, waiting for me to make a move. I just sat there, regretting my choice of not taking my rifle with me. Then I realized something. I realized that I’m a 6’3 foot man who weighs 250 pounds and also used to be a boxer in his younger years. I got up with my fists ready to throw some punches and decided to make this man regret screwing with my car. I could hear the man scratching at the wall as I neared the door.
“Found you!” he yelled, his voice sounding more guttural than before.
I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder as my aggressor knocked me to the floor, followed by the warm sensation of blood flowing out of my wound. I remember thinking that the bastard had stabbed me.
The man jumped at me before I was able to regain my balance, forcing me to roll to the side to avoid him. That’s when I noticed that this “man” wasn’t a person at all. At the moment, all I could see was something vaguely bipedal, hunched over a bit and covered in long black fur. What I thought had been a knife were actually a set of long claws on each hand.
The creature began to turn towards me, and I took this as my sign to move. I picked up a vase that was lying next to me and threw it at the monster, hitting it straight in the head. Then I got up in an instant and booked it. As I was running, I could hear the creature following me closely behind. Its roars became more and more animalistic with each passing second, clearly enraged from my attempt to fight back. I practically jumped down the stairs, nearly breaking my legs in the process, after which I continued my sprint towards the door. Without thinking twice I just busted through the surprisingly weak door.
Once outside, I noticed more creatures coming at me in the corner of my eyes. Filled with adrenaline, I ran to my truck, got inside and started the engine. That’s when the creature from earlier came falling down in the parking space right next to me. The bastard had jumped through the first floor’s window. When it got up, I finally got a good look at the thing. The thing that I heard it drag across the floor was its tail, and the things that stabbed me and scratched my car were the massive claws on its hands. Yet the thing that got me the most, the thing that will forever haunt my dreams, was its face. Or, to put it in better words, the contorted face of a man, plastered over its head. It was the same face I saw on the mayor’s picture.
I stepped on the gas and floored it. While driving, I noticed more and more creatures started to give chase, each one wearing a different face. I drove as fast as I could until they were all out of sight and I had left the town. Even then, I did not drop my speed, probably committing multiple traffic violations as I drove. But I did not care. The stuff I saw there was way above my paygrade, and I wanted to get as far away from it as possible. I drove for hours, only stopping to tank my car.
This incident happened a few days ago. Currently, I’m still in the hospital, waiting for the wound in my shoulder to heal. The doctors say I’m lucky that I can still move my arm. Sure, I’m happy to be alive, but life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows for me. I’ve racked up more debt than the 2500 dollars can pay and as if that wasn’t enough, men in black suits have been interviewing me ever since I got here. So if you’re reading this, please just remember one thing: if some guy offers you 5000 dollars just to shoot a bear, stay away. Because there’s no way in hell those things were bears.

Vana Galvenniere, "Rightful" heir to the Throne of the Marble Steppes
Pre-Sisters Coronation: Vana Galvenniere, daughter of Avasa Galvenniere, was born nine years prior to her sister Vala. This period of her life was what one would expect for one born into her family; being taught history, that in the past first borns take the Throne, and that she'll have to learn how to take over once her mother passes. During this time, Vana's mother seemed to care for her as any other mother would. However, her mother's attitude towards Vana would shift dramatically when Vala was born. Vana would now suddenly be treated with cruelty by her mother. Vana's grades when being taught were never enough for mother. Vana's combat abilities were never good enough for mother. And when Vana "underperformed", mother would punish her in extreme ways. Beatings, withholding food, and making her sleep in the castles stables were what Vana's mother would deem appropriate for her daughters "failings". To others, Vana did extremely well in every subject she was being taught, but mother seemed to think otherwise. Or worse, simply enjoyed causing her daughter pain.
During this period, Vana would rarely see her sister, and the few times she did only grew her jealousy. Vala was given all the love and praise Vana wanted, and occasionally their mother would have them duel. Vala always won. After these sparring sessions and any "disappointing" test results, Vana was to spend the night in the stables. It was dark, cold and there was nowhere to sleep. She would only be allowed to take the clothes she had already been wearing at the time. These made the worst days in Vana's life. Some nights, servants and guards, who either had issues with her mother or simply wanted to hurt someone, would pay Vana visits. The men and women who would come to hurt Vana as some form of retaliation were bad enough, but the ones who simply wanted something to torture were far worse than Vana could have ever imagined.
There was only ever one period of time when Vana would be treated well while staying in the stables. One night, a boy about her age was sent to fetch a tool, but came across Vana, curled up and crying. He took the tool he needed, but returned shortly after with a blanket and some food. He would spend time each night with her, simply talking or letting her vent her sadness and anger. After two weeks, he stopped showing up. Unknown to Vana, her mother has transferred the boy and his family to another part of the city when she found out what the young man had been doing. Vana never found out that it was her mother's doing, and had thought that she herself was what pushed the boy away. This was the happiest she had been in years, and she couldn't help but have grown feelings for him, so once he had "left her" a bitter sense of betrayal lingered.
Post-Sisters Coronation: Years later, Vana and Vala's mother was finally dead, leaving a will that would be read before the most powerful families in the empire. Vana, naturally, could not be more relieved. She would finally become Empress and prove her mother wrong after all the horrors she had been put through. As the event went on, Vana only grew happier, she felt as though her excitement knew no bounds. As the will was about to be read before the guests, Vana stood at the ready. She was going to walk up to that podium and retrieve the title she so desperate craved. The title she had quite literally suffered for. But their was something unique in that will, something the Empire hadn't seen in generations. In it, Vana's mother specified that Vala would be her successor. Vana dropped the glass she had been sipping from, as tears began to form in her eyes. Even after all this, her mother still won. Vala stepped up, somewhat confused but apparently excited all the same. Vana retreated into the castle halls to leave the ceremony altogether.
As the ceremony began to slow down, Vana returned, donning an outfit more suitable for combat and her favorite sword. Before the empire itself, Vana challenged her sister for the rights to the Throne. Vana knew she would lose to her sister. She always did. There were a couple of ways Vana hoped the duel would end: either she manages to defeat her sister and become Empress, or she would perish by her sisters hand. She believed either way would work well enough, even if the odds of winning were astronomical. In front of the entire empire, Vana fought Vala and was down within minutes, losing not only the match in the most humiliating amount of time possible, but also a small piece of her veil (frill). She could remember the silence that overtook the room, where even though there were over one hundred guests, the only noise she could hear was the blood dripping to the floor from her new injury. Vana remembers clearly looking up from her kneeling position to her sister, the one whom mother pampered with everything she could ever want. Without saying a word or retrieving her lost flesh, Vana stood and left her sister behind. Before she left, accessed the family treasury, taking as much as she could before leaving for good.
She purchased a large plot of land far away from the city, on a plateau high enough she would still be able to see her old home in the distance, towering into the clouds, a massive spire that would always serve as a reminder of what she deserves. Despite being so far away, however, she can't outrun her past. Most nights, she can hardly close her eyes without being back in the stables, the hungry eyes of those who committed such unspeakable acts upon her when she was younger closing in around her. It's a rare luxury when she doesn't wake up frightened or crying. Despite her living so far away, she still travels to the city occasionally for large parties and events to keep up her image and to gather possible allies that may be willing to help her in the future. That being said, the Vana the public knows isn't the real Vana. She puts on an act, a friendly facade to interact with those she doesn't trust or know well. And those she does trust and know well are few and far between. At the end of the day, however, she really only has one goal to work towards. And she will wait as long as she has to to make sure it's perfect. Eventually, she will be Empress, or die trying.

Some notes of mine...probably going to eventually put some of this into my book, which will cover The Enneagram as a whole plus insights I have from being a netizen for so long...
How to know if you have mistyped
The quick, functional version. Based on approximately 18 years (and running) of down-to-earth enneagram experience, which includes more hours than I can count reading about the types online and in literature, watching videos, including most canonical texts, some familiarity with all the popular sites, teachers, and groups, plus spending excessive time in small online communities exploring and discussing the types (e.g. “echo chambers” as I like to call them), including years spent on my own stuck in mistyping and/or analyzing the cultish dynamics that The Enneagram community attracts. If you can’t handle it or don’t understand it, that’s likely not my problem, but an issue arising from your own biases, limited experience, and struggling with the challenge of integrating what I have decided to share with you.
So, before you have a knee jerk reaction based on your own biases, please understand that this is good-faith information that has worked for me, my intentions are good and my experience is my own and it’s valid, so no petty retorting or pseudo-debating is going to change that. I put in the time and made the mistakes, so others won’t have to. This is intended to help people. I suspect there are others out there who have mistyped, but not for the reasons you may think. If the information doesn’t work for you, then set it aside. Suffice to say you’ll be confronted with plenty of that in your life anyway (but I’d try to take this seriously first, because I think it holds potential value for people other than myself).
I do need to warn you that some entry-level logical reasoning ability is needed to really understand what I’m going to share. If it doesn’t make sense to you or you disagree, there’s a pretty good chance that you haven’t understood it fully. Basic education might be needed to understand some of the more advanced logical concepts at work, such as the idea that any given Type X has many different manifestations, and our presumed ability to understand and recognize a type externally is impacted by how we filter our perceptions through our bias of how we believe that type will appear.
Some manifestations are going to align with and confirm our biases about the type, we’ll call these XB (B is for bias, so XB is our bias of how we think type X *should* appear, if we have a bias about that, which is subjective to the person making the call externally), but some won’t – some will align more obviously with our biases of another type altogether. i.e. X->XB, but also X->YB, X->ZB, etc.
This helps us to understand how the underlying Core Type can appear differently on the surface and our bias factors into all of it. E.g. if I come along and quickly say “well this guy here is clearly a Type 8,” and it’s based on the fact that to me he “looks like an 8”, we know there is at least some bias in play (because I don’t know him to truly be that type from the inside)…but I can still be correct, biases can be true sometimes -- assuming I am correct here, then in reality, this is because he’s a case of Type 8->8B. But to another person I might say “well this lady here self-types as 5 but doesn’t seem 5 to me, she seems type 9”. We have to take into account we could be looking at a true case of either 5->9B, or 9->9B. Assuming I’m wrong, then 5->9B would explain how my biases are leading me astray from the truth.
The Enneagram is an interdisciplinary system, it relies on both logical and mathematical elements, as well as spiritual and psychological ones. So not everyone is going to be able to use it effectively from the start. Advanced philosophical and logical knowledge and innovation can be useful in understanding it.
A few questions to consider:
1. Are you happy, healthy, etc? Relatively speaking.
Simple question. Accurately typing yourself should make your life better, and it should only get better over the long term as you understand your type more deeply and apply that self-knowledge to your life. Maybe there’s an initial shock point where you’re upset or coming to grips with your type, but eventually it should pay off as offering a helpful look into your own motivations and behaviors. It’s a kind of way to truly control your life from the driver’s seat, rather than being stuck in the passenger seat (with someone else at the wheel, god forbid).
If you’re just playing out the “shell-like”, superficial role of a non-core type, rather than getting to the core underneath (that’s one reason why we call It the “core” type), you’re going to neglect yourself on a deeper level. It will result in cognitive dissonance as well, causing imbalances in various places, since your core type is still having a strong impact, albeit in a less conscious way. Now if no type works for you and you feel you need to reject the whole system, that’s fine.
But if you’re going to use it, then at least make sure you’ve identified your dominant type properly, as evidenced by the self-knowledge and corollary benefits it offers. Even if every single person in the world says “you have your type wrong”, but you’re happy, sleeping well, healthy, kicking ass in your daily life, achieving your goals, dreams, etc., – then you can be pretty sure you’ve got your type right, period. The faceless masses can, unsurprisingly, be wrong about their views of us.
2. Did you arrive at the typing on your own, and can it stand up to others’ willful, unwavering contradictions, arguments, and denials?
If you were pressured into typing or retyping yourself a certain way or persuaded to stay with the same type even as you thought other types might be more accurate, you could easily have mistyped yourself. Now if you are being partially held in place by others’ validation of your type (especially those in an online community who don’t know you personally), then what you’re probably looking at is a kind of mind-control cult structure. I.e., you’re being subtlety brainwashed and manipulated via fixed ideas in exchange for feeling a sense of belonging and validation about your type within the community. You could easily have your type wrong in this case.
Of course, if you quickly buckle under peeexternal pressure when you naturally start to think of other types as possibilities when looking at your life and The Enneagram, you know there are some manipulation factors weighing on you and keeping you attached to a certain type that could easily be a mistype. In these cases, look not only at what people are getting you to do, but what not to do, which is potentially retyping yourself. It means they’re trying to keep you in alignment with their superficial ideas of you, keeping you constricted and in chains psychologically and spiritually (a slave to their egoic ideas).
If you had mistyped yourself, being open to retyping would be essential for advancing your own insight, and if you can’t even be open to that, then there’s no way you can be sure you haven’t mistyped. And it’ll be hard to break out of it if you feel like you need others’ validation, because all it takes is a few trusted, bad, or misguided influences to keep us locked into mistypes. Not everyone is going to validate our self-typing for us, even when it's accurate. Always there will be haters, hecklers, and trolls online. Our spiritual truth shouldn't be affected by those miserable people.
Don’t let others’ stereotypes, biases, gaslighting, irresponsibility, poor ethics, and bad faith influence you and get in the way of a happier life. Online interactions should come second to your real life, and if one of the only ways your type manifests is via online validation, that starts to shed serious doubt on the accuracy of your typing (especially if your core type and instinct is one of the more frequently gaslighted/gatekept in the broader online Enneagram culture).
3. Have you honestly considered every single type for yourself, across different resources and from different angles, over time?
If you haven’t done this, there’s no way you should be convinced you have your type right. Without that certainty, you’ll struggle to understand yourself and type yourself accurately. You need to understand the entire system anyway. There’s no way you can understand one type without knowing the rest of them. And obviously you need to really consider all the options deeply and rationally, consulting many different texts, in order to get a comprehensive picture. I’ve mistyped at least a couple times, and both were before I really allowed myself to open my mind about the types. I latched onto a description within the first year or two studying The Enneagram and clung to that without considering the alternatives, because I had identified with some aspects of the type but not the deeper fixation. While it’s possible to accurately type yourself from early on, also make sure you do your due dilligence and learn about all the types in full scope, and confirm that you have your type right as you do that.
4. Do you know the main online Enneagram cultural biases, stereotypes, and “rules of thumb” that amount to sophistry? So you can look out for them and set them aside?
These can be pretty quickly summarized, which tend to be some variation of beliefs that: everyone is mistyped by default, self-typed 8s are really Type 6s or sometimes 3s (they just can’t see it), many self-typed 5s and 4s are really 6s or 9s, people mistype as 8s because everyone wants to be “the strong one”, true 8s are extremely rare and even “unicorns” (the true-to-life presumption being that 8 is a superior type to be gatekept and treated like a club), people over-SX-type themselves and most people are actually SX-last, etc.
So when many people go to a popular “typing service” or “typing expert” and are all given the same or extremely similar typings, I find that suspicious and not a reliable way to type. If it works for you, do it, but most of us would disregard those suggestions anyway because they aren’t based on a sufficiently deep knowledge of us needed to move beyond merely projecting their own biases. We might be better off just guessing randomly at what our type is, given how these others’ biases keep them locked into certain patterns of identifying a type for us.
And all of these I mentioned are largely just “status quo” assumptions, they aren’t based on any actual research or hardcore data, they’re mediocre generalizations at best. They amount to echoes in the echo chamber that just get propagated because no one wants to question them. While it’s true that 369 are traditionally known as “primary, relating types”, somewhat more adaptive and chameleonic in their nature, and they’re overall (probably) somewhat more common than the “secondary types”; while it’s true that the sexual instinct is probably less common than the social and self-preservation instinct, of course depending on specific population; while it’s true that people do in fact mistype and there is some truth to these ideas and reasons behind how/why this occurs, nevertheless, these guidelines shouldn’t be exaggerated and applied in an unbridled way, according to our whims and agendas, and used to apply massive generalizations and stereotypes to anyone whose text/video/content we interact with online. This would amount to lazy thinking and turning off our brains, and facilitating even more toxic, robotic, programmed social dynamics – exactly what The Enneagram is trying to wake us up from.
5. Do you realize that your type can only be truly confirmed and known with certainty by you?
There may indeed be some of us, experts, amateurs, aficionados, etc., who are skilled at recognizing a person’s type based on limited data, but this amounts to mostly just an educated guess and should only be done with a low confidence interval (should not be accepted blindly without in-depth confirmation from the person). At the end of the day, it would take a direct, experiential knowledge of your childhood, from your own shoes, to really see and verify your type and its formation accurately. Because the dominant type is developed in childhood, it “belongs to us” in a privileged and specific way. Someone else coming along and seeing us as an older child or an adult and telling us which type we are based on their superficial experience of us filtered through their own biases and perspectives isn’t going to change who we are on a basic level.
We go through many stages in life and take on many different superficial appearances, some of which can serve to obscure our core type (especially in light of this conflating variable of the observer’s bias). Also keep in mind, although we have a core type, we have other types active in us as well. The Enneagram covers the full spectrum of human behavior, and one reason why secondary and auxiliary elements and dynamics like the lines of integration/disintegration, the wing, trifix, and instincts were developed was to express, identify, and map how some of the other types interact with our core type. With all of that in mind, it’s not farfetched to see how we can strongly identify with a type that isn’t our core, while still failing to develop to our fullest, Enneagramically-informed potential.
Good luck to you in your journey of typing yourself accurately and applying that knowledge to your life so that you can be happier and healthier.
Thanks for reading and good luck. Sorry I don’t have time to get to comments. You can see quite a bit of time is tied up in writing this stuff so I don’t have the time for all comments maintenance. I do appreciate you reading this and I hope it helps someone. I want to make sure the book is interesting, original, and covers unique truths I’ve learned personally rather than just echoing what others have said.

Princess Rolaea fell into a seated position on the floor as her Steward was positioned next to her. The other soldiers who were captured from the team she had been leading were behind. “I demand to speak to your leader.” Growled the Karvrithak princess as the humans walked about, almost gloating at their catch.
“You’ll get your chance. I gotta make some calls first.” Came a voice from behind view. The older Karvrithak next to her fake cleared his throat to get the princess’ attention. “You know, princess. Now that we are captured.” To which Rolaea interjected, “I wouldn’t have been if you had done your duty.” Making the older Karvrithak pause in annoyance. “There were too many between me and you for me to have carried out that duty; I have to now follow the rules for… that.” The princess froze for a moment. “You can’t be serious, Sarvik.”
Sarvik nods without looking at the princess, instead looking for the man he saw fighting with her. “Our culture is built upon tradition, even ones you might not wish to be a part of. You were beaten in single combat by a male.” The princess interjects, “Not true. Two of our solders were fighting with me.” To which Sarvik nods, “Which makes it an even more impressive feat.” He gets a growl of annoyance in return.
A human woman walked over, hearing them talk, “What is going on over here?” sitting down on a crate in front of the prisoners. Sarvik looked at the human. “Ah, maybe you can help. Who was the one by himself during the fight.” Sitting up, the human smiled. “That would be our fearless leader. Didn’t want anyone to risk their life as our formation required four in front of you.” Rolaea sneered. “You mean your trap.”
The human gasped at the accusation, placing a hand on her chest in mock surprise. “Just because your senses were not keen enough to notice us doesn’t mean it was a trap. We even called out for you to surrender as you’re surrounded, and you chose to fight.” Getting a nod of agreement from the Steward, who got an elbow for agreeing with the human, causing a grunt of pain. “That spot is a little tender from the fight.” Which got another one from the princess: “That is for your failure in duty.”
The human woman pointed a finger at the pair as if they were children. “Don’t make me separate you two. So, you were speaking earlier.” And Sarvik nods, “Does your leader come from a noble bloodline.” Which made the human smirk. “He would say he does.” Before taking a moment to pose and take a mock tone of the rag-tag group's leader, “My grandfather would tell me stories of how we were descendants of Spartan kings of over 4,000 years.” Getting a laugh from the woman and a nod from Sarvik, “Is there any possibility that is true?” and the human shrug, “Could be. It was a long time ago, and I remember hearing something about how everyone is related to royalty in some way or another because of mixing.”
Rolaea smiles. “See, his bloodline is too diluted. Also, I never heard of the Spartans so how much of a warrior family could they be?” Getting another laugh from the woman “They weren’t a family. They were an entire culture who just became part of a country known as Greece. They never died out or went extinct, they just started calling themselves Greeks instead of Spartans.” Looking back and forth between the two, Sarah started to smile more as she realized what the conversation had been about.
Sarvik nodded in understanding. “I see. What were the beliefs of these Spartans?” Causing the human to think for a while, “Well, I remember hearing the only way to get your name on a grave is for men to have died in combat or women to have died during childbirth. Both were seen as a way of supporting Sparta. They were fierce warriors; often, just a single word could keep an army out of the country. Oh, and marriage was some kind of ritualistic combat, I think.” By this time, Nick walked over. “What is all this commotion.”
He looked around at a giggling Sarah, a stoic-looking male Karvrithak, and what he could only assume to be a blushing female Karvrithak. Sarah looked up. “Oh, just talking about Spartian marriage fighting.” To which Nick sighed, “It wasn’t combat. Spartan men would meet up with the women they found attractive during the night and take them back to their barracks or someplace else.” Sarvik tilted his head some. “Do you believe Rolaea to be attractive?” Getting a wide-eyed look from the princess, “Sarvik, you stop this right now.” The human male looked confused and looked over. “To be honest, I never really thought of a Karvrithak as beautiful or not, but… I mean, if we weren’t at war… maybe, kinda.”
Sarvik nodded once more. “Then it is settled, the combat took place at night, and it seems all the conditions for both cultures are met, or at least enough to be considered valid under the mixed cultures doctrine.” Nick looked even more confused as he looked at the male Karvrithak, then the female who looked ready to die from embarrassment, and his second in command Sarah, who looked ready to burst from laughter and when he remembered what they were talking about, marriage, got his own look of shock and horror “No no no no no no.”
Sarvik nods. “You are to be paired with Princess Rolaea.” Which was what Sarah needed to hear to burst out laughing finally and almost fell off the crate. The whole thing caused everyone to look over, prisoner and non-alike. Rolaea: “We are in agreement there, human. There is no way this is going to happen.” Sarvik took a deep breath. “I’m afraid, as Stewart of the royal family, it is my duty to inform your father.” Nick shook his head. “No, there is no way I can marry a furball.” Sarah, for her part, finally fell to the floor before managing to get something out that wasn’t laughter: “Bum bum bum bum.” To the tune of Here Comes the Bride getting a kick from Nick, which only returned her to her crazed laughing state, which by now, more people started figuring out what was going on, and some more laughter started, only one from the Karvrithak.
Rolaea turned to look at which one of her soldiers was laughing. “Whoever is laughing is going to have their tongue cut out.” Before turning to Nick, “If we kill Sarvik, no one will tell.” To which Sarah’s hand shot up, “I will.” And Sarvik nods. “We have a second in agreement from the groom’s side. We just have to contact your father. He will agree to the cease-fire the humans have been asking for.” Nick looks down. “We would have to kill more than Sarvak.” When a cough from behind caught his attention, causing Nick to look back. “Command finally answered.”
Nick took a deep breath and pointed a finger at the Karvrithaks. “No speaking.” And then pointed at Sarah, “Pull it together.” As the now out-of-breath woman took deep breaths to get it back, “Ok, ok. I’m done now.” Nick walked over and answered the line, talking about the success at capturing the high-value target in their area and how it was the princess.
After a few minutes of talking, Nick returned with a different look on his face, and Sarah wiped her eyes, having cried from laughing so hard. “Oh, I don’t think I can survive another laughing fit like that. It was too funny.” Nick took a deep breath, causing Sarah to look up in amused horror as Nick spoke, “Command told me to contact the Karvrithaks and use any means necessary to get them to agree to the cease-fire.” And Sarah smirked while holding in her laughter and got slapped upside the head for it.
She screamed in pain, “What was that for?” and Nick smiled. “You said if you started laughing, you were going to die. I just saved your life.” Taking a deep breath, Sarah nods. “I guess, but you could have held back.” Rolaea’s embarrassment died down enough that she started to glare at Nick. “If you think for a second, I will marry you. I would rather die!” Nick held a finger up and bopped Rolaea on the nose to silence her. “Not getting married.” Turned to Sarvik, “Going to get Tony to agree to a cease-fire anyway.” And then turned to Sarah, “Someone is getting a demotion.” To which she replied, “Worth it.”
Nick sighed and walked away to a secluded area he and Sarah would talk, and Sarah started to follow. “Though, I’m in agreement with killing the princess; it will be a nice revenge for everything the furballs have done to us since the war started.” A hand going to her sidearm. Nick turned to her “Put it away, I don’t like the idea either. It could at least be enough of a distraction to get the upper hand or get some end to this war.” Sarah looked at him seriously for the first time since starting the conversation with the aliens. Nick nods. “You have a weird way of grieving, you know that. Your humor was bad before, but this is twisted. No, we are not going to plan a red wedding. We’ll use it as a cover to regroup and.”
Sarah groaned out of frustration. “Why are we even listening to the human collation? They abandoned us, and then when our resistance group got good enough, they contacted us and started demanding we follow their orders.” Nick nods. “Ya, not like they started giving us intel, equipment, trained soldiers,” causing Sarah to stop him. “Ok, ok, you made your point… still… marriage?”
Nick shrugs at that. “When we started fighting, I thought about how men used to throw themselves on grenades to save others… I’ve always been ready to do that…. I guess to save lives, I’ll have to take an arrow to the knee.” Before starting to walk back in, a smile returned to Sarah’s face; without turning, Nick simply said, “Knew that would get that cursed smile back.”
The two Karvrithaks had been arguing again, with the princess drowning out the stewart whenever he tried to give the transmission frequency to contact the king. Nick picked up a clean… ish rag and shoved it into the princess’ mouth. “Alright, fine I accept.” Getting a muffled scream of anger from the princess followed by what was surely an obscenity-filled tongue lashing, defeated by a rag. Sarvick looked at Nick, angry for the first time. “We might be your prisoners, but that is no way to treat the princess or your future wife.” Nick nods some. “Would you like me to remove it and risk going deaf in that ear?” Pointing to the one that was on the side of the princess. A momentary glance from Sarvik at the princess who was still trying to yell between attempts to remove the rag stuck on her sharp teeth, got a “For now. The signal frequency is 195.2515.234.202. Also, I would refrain from using your human slur for our leader. He doesn’t much like being compared to a human breakfast cereal mascot.”
Nick nods, then helps Sarvik to his feet and turns to Sarah. “I could use my second in command.” Gets a sigh of annoyance as she rebuttons the strap holding her sidearm while standing. “OK.” After approaching the coms the operator puts in the frequency and releasing Sarvick’s hands he types in a code as the image of the king of the Karvrithaks comes on with a roar of a statement “How dare you lay a hand on my daughter if she is not returned to me within one earth hour I will glass the planet as I would rather see her dead than at the mercy of you lowly.” As Nick decided to throw him off his game, “Calm down, Dad.” Causing the king to stop. “What did you call me, and why is Sarvik standing next to you?”
Sarvik coughed to grab the attention of the group and to make this more noble than commoner “It is with much honor and regret that I have to inform you that this human has successfully completed the right of binding.” This information caused the King’s lower Jaw to drop, and Sarah chimed in, “Funny you mentioned hand earlier because he’s taking your daughter’s hand in marriage.” The king looked outraged. “You’re going to cut her hand off for marriage!?” and Sarvik raised a hand. “It is a figure of speech, Your Majesty. Humans call grabbing another’s hand with your own taking. Often done before the rings are placed on the hand of the one being wed.” Nick and Sarah both turn to look at Sarvik, who doesn’t turn his head. “A steward must be informed on all relevant information.”
Nick turns back to the king. “As your future son-in-law, I ask that you have your forces stand down. Don’t want to accidentally kill a relative of mine, do you?” The king let out a low growl of annoyance as a spitting sound was heard behind the group. The princess finally worked the rag out of her mouth. “I object to this wedding.” only getting a yell in response: “I can’t stop it. If Sarvik has said the terms have been met, I would have to break years of tradition and condemn our bloodline to death to break it.”
The two humans went wide-eyed as they didn’t realize how seriously the Karvrithaks took their tradition. Turning his head, the king spoke solemnly, “Tell our generals to stand down and to return fire if fired upon.” The coms operator relayed the message to the human command, which quickly ordered a similar command. Turning back, the King looked like he was about ready to reach through the screen and strangle him. “Know this, human, if you have lied about your intent. I was originally planning on subjugating the humans, but I will exterminate your species if you are lying.” And Nick swallowed hard at the sudden realization that his plan of using this as a cover for the human forces to regroup was a bigger gamble than he first thought. Sarah smirked and turned to look up at Nick. “No pressure.”

So I have completely accepted the fact that most of my friends have disappeared from my life because they had children. My two best friends also had kids but they’ve put a little bit more effort into staying in touch, however usually I always have to go and see them if I want to spend time with them and the majority of the time, because they are women and have fallen into the stereotype of being the main caregiver, their kids are always around.
One of my best friends does try to do things with me without her kids, I think she recognises that it can be a bit annoying for me. I was really happy earlier when she invited me on a summer camping trip with her making it sound like it would just be us. However she hit me in the next sentence by saying that she’s been thinking about taking the kids away and it turns out this will basically be a trip with her and her two quite spoiled children. I’ve left it a bit vague as to my availability as I’m really not up for looking after her kids with her for the weekend we would go away, I’m also not sure I could deal with that tantrums, and basically it’ll be all about entertaining her kids rather than a fun time away for us to hang out.
This is definitely more just me having a rant to people that will understand, I’m just really tired of having to make all the effort to go to my friends, and when there’s a hint of something it’s always got kids involved. I can only handle the kids in short bursts and it’s just super frustrating that the partners in these situations never help out their ladies by allowing them to have childfree time away, yet they’re always away with their mates.
But also my friends are grown women and should be taking a stand for themselves to be able to have time away from their kids, sometimes though I guess they just don’t want to. I’m not sure I’ve eloquently represented what I’m feeling, but hopefully some people understand?!

My fellow gamers, for too long has our community suffered the indignation of an intolerable culture that has denigrated, besmirched, exploited, and has outright demonized our culture of unique individuals with a genuine love of a hobby that they see as profitable and progressive. They have taken beloved IP’s (Intellectual Properties) and twisted them into their own personal ideological crusade of undermining and humiliating the core aspects of characters they deemed as “Toxic” or “White Supremacy”. Through the guise and protection of DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusivity) & ESG (Environmental, Social, and Governance) they have used our influence in the entertainment industry to push their narratives and agendas that have stigmatized our culture with numerous anti-consumer practices that they call “being progressive”. But the truth of the matter is they were never really looking to be a part of our community, they simply wanted to use our community as a tool of activism and propaganda in the entertainment industry as it was extremely profitable, and they wanted inclusion in that division. Ever since GamerGate & Female Frequency, we have had to endure the incursion of forced ideologies, xenophobic behaviors and inferior overpriced products that have never been in our best interest and have been flat out disgraceful towards foreign media.
Before Gaming had become a major source of entertainment, we were often categorized as anti-social or societies rejects where because we found more enjoyment in playing fictional characters and not spending as much time out and about, we never fully assimilated in society (which is a good thing if you ask me). From 1998 to 2007, at the height of innovation, creativity and production, Gaming had reached a golden age in which it had revolutionized society. Hollywood Execs who had ruined the movie industry turned their attention to video games as a source of income since video games had outperformed movies in terms of profit. No one was concerned about gaming, much less diversity or inclusivity until it became profitable. This makes people like SBI look extremely disingenuous as they were not interested in gamers as a community with its own culture. They simply wanted to use it as another weapon in identity politics.
Microtransactions; the hidden enemy to gamer progress and inducer to mental laziness of our community. Microtransactions have been around for a long time; however, it has never been more potent and apparent than in recent years. It has aided in the dismantling and segregation of players on the ideology of FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) and has created another sub-culture of gamers who have no real drive to be better outside of how much money they put into the game. This has degraded our culture as well as we have become “fat” off transactional gaming but at the same time we have been “starved” of purposeful gaming where our achievements were our sustenance. I am not saying that microtransactions are bad, but when they are exploitative and predatorial like they have been and don’t give gamers room to grow, we become lethargic and unwilling to improve ourselves as gamers. Oversaturated microtransactional games are one of the many reasons why we have become complacent and unwilling to fight against the exploitative tactics used by big brand game companies such EA, Ubisoft, ActivisionBlizzard, NaughtyDog and so many other western business model companies. Western style games were not like this in the past, they had much more depth and actual effort put into them with the gamer in mind. This has not been the case for over a decade and our connection to western developers has been whittled down to just being transactional. That is one of the reasons why you see so many remasters and remakes in today’s gamer community. They have lost their willingness to improve as developers of games and simply accept corporate/share holder rules.
Game journalists also do not have any real integrity or purpose outside of being funded for their involvement in promoting IPG (Identity Political Games) in a positive light to the public whether it’s positively received or not. They are not interested in what we have to say, they all support the same agenda and that is why they are a dying breed. Within the next couple of years, they will be out of the job and more than likely they will not be able to stay in the industry giving how they have responded to past articles that have clearly been scripted on the premise of diversity and racism. Not only that, but most of them are also extremely hostile to the community as they stereotype and defame the individuals that are a part of the community they are supposed to serve. We have been mentally liberated from their lies and coercive tactics as we tend to laugh at their obvious attempt at virtue signaling while hiding their misdoings so that they can play the victim.
My gamer brothers & sisters, I would not suggest the following action that we must take now without good cause. I have weighed our options and the best option for us now is this…...CULTURAL SECESSION. Naturally this is a form of segregation where they would more than likely claim they are being segregated by the dominant culture of the gaming community but that is incorrect. For years now we have been the ones who are often marginalized and ostracized for the smaller portion of our community. And when we aren’t, we’re exploited for more funds so that these companies can stay in business only to subject us to low quality products that coincide with the “WOKE Agenda” that are often huge expenses to these big brands i.e. AAA/AAAA games that will eventually flop for its obvious forced diversity and bug infested product which will undoubtedly piss off the consumer to the point of wanting a refund. Losing copious amounts of capital and stock in the process, not to mention their reputation is permanently marred.
We must separate on every cultural level in terms of entertainment and ideology. We must reject everything from the west that promotes toxic western beliefs, practices, and exclusion from other cultures (i.e. Southeastern Countries such as Japan and Korea). Japan & Korea have been the targets of unjust discrimination from Western Developers, Western Journalists, Western Localizers (The Wokelizers) and Western Society Prejudice regarding their sense of aesthetics as Westerners hate the aesthetic sense of these countries. The reason why they resort to such base tactics isn’t just because it weaponizes the ideal female form but it’s also because they have deep-seated insecurities about their own looks so when they see attractive female characters, they use terms such as “unrealistic” or “hypersexualized” to establish the moral high ground. But the truth is, they want to feel superior to that which is ideal, so they insult and dehumanize this figure that portrays natural female beauty because they see it as an insult to their own social superiority in what they believe is a hierarchy of them being at the top of all other women. Because of this and so many contributing factors, their movies flop harder than the Fat Chocobo landing on a group of enemies and their games seismically fail just as much if not more. We must sever our connection to Western Developers, Publishers, and ALL Western-Centric Entertainment for they seek to mentally enslave us to their Xenophobic ideology.
Let’s define Western Culture and its traits. Western Culture/Society is composed of more than several different ideologies that work in unison with one another to facilitate dominance over multiple aspects of society. Business, Social, Political, Technological, and sometimes even Global Affairs are affected by these ideologies that portray a specific mindset of Western beliefs. What are those ideologies you ask?

• Perpetual Victimhood: By weaponizing the fact that they are marginalized and of a small portion of western society, they can push their agenda to absurd standards that ultimately ostracize the main demographic. And when companies don’t capitulate, they are labeled as anti-progressive/misogynist’s or cohorts of White Supremacy. They use this to cancel their targets and silence them through societal defamation to keep the public on their side. They also use this mindset to justify their own lack of self-agency as they tend to throw companies who do adhere to their demands but miserably fail to turn a profit under the bus so that they can maintain face in front of the public while denying their actual involvement. They will never accept “Sense of Agency” when it’s negative but will gladly accept it when a positive outcome shines on them as if they are entitled to it.

Official Wiki GamerGate Page)
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• Societal Terrorism: This is another form of ideology weaponization that they use in order to make companies “toe-the-line” with their agenda. By weaponizing cancel culture, they exert dominance over these companies but in exchange they also reimburse those companies with DEI & ESG funds that raise their credit score as well as having social status with the marginalized demographic. However; cancel culture has not succeeded in years and developers and publishers probably only want the money and the DEI ESG rating. But they have to maintain the image of having social economic power so that they can continue to strong-arm other developers into compliance and promoting financial benefits of DEI & ESG. In other words, if you are not for sale, they discredit and stigmatize you in the industry.

Asmongold Clips.
https://youtu.be/Iq86DnmX2xY
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• “Its not us, its you who’s wrong” Mentality: This mentality is especially annoying as they tend to use it to hide their incompetence. They often look down upon gamers who are not in the industry to hide their obvious lack of knowledge on game development thinking that their job title grants them special status that they believe gives them the right to be condescending. But the truth they never wanted revealed has already strangled their careers of all credibility. They were never GAMERS, they were INVADERS. Community Colonists that seek to indoctrinate next generational gamers into their hive-mind and brand previous generations of gamers as villains.

@GeeksandGamers
https://youtu.be/1HbrTkqQFuM
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• Double-standard Enforcement: By labeling something as “unrealistic” or “hypersexualized”, they can claim this is morally wrong if it promotes traditional dynamics between men and women. Heterosexual relationships are condemned while at the same time Same-sex relationships are praised. Additionally, heterosexual relationships with main white male characters turn antagonistic and spotlight stealing. This is deliberate as to promote the “Girl Boss” ideology to indoctrinate women into the Feminazi state of mind. While at the same time, should a male character also adopt the “I don’t need male/female” ideology its seen as Toxic Masculinity which isn’t even a real thing. The idea of a strong male character is taboo while enforcing strong female characters is the ideal.

@MugenLord
https://youtu.be/to5Uciy_yeg
@EndymionTv
https://youtu.be/7TPTR8-qmbk
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• Dehumanization/Demonization: This is something that most military branches use in order to remove conscious inhibitions such as mass slaughter is wrong or categorization. By enforcing ideologies to denounce humanity in certain targets, it deactivates your conscience by saying this is not human therefore its ethically okay to treat this target without compassion and deny the fact it has sentience. We gamers fall under this category for journalists, developers, companies and society at large. This is a tactic we are familiar with to an extent as it implies that we are not normal when we do not do what everybody else is doing. “Geeks are the worse” or “Nerds need to fall into a pit of lava” are verbal dehumanization forms that most people in society say and we as Gamers tend to be relegated to those categories. This is their way of imposing the social hierarchy on us by establishing superiority. We know this as Gamers as we see it very often in the games that we play and some times experience it in real life.

https://rationalwiki.org/wiki/Gamergate#The_end_of_their_relevance
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• Deflection/Projection: This is basic psychology 101. By redirecting the conversation away from their mistakes and back on to the opposing view to avert blame and justify their innocence they can avoid criticism. However; deflection is a CONSCIOUS decision, meaning they have no real argument to justify their incompetence. If you can consciously process the situation, you have self-agency which means you don’t have a legitimate excuse. Projection is something else entirely. Most times, Projection doesn’t work on conscious decisions rather it is automatically deployed when feeling threatened, anxious or both. Instead of accepting accountability for feelings or actions that are deemed socially unacceptable they accuse others of committing that unacceptable behavior thereby exonerating themselves and proving that those feelings and/or actions are not their own.

@TheTrentReport
https://youtu.be/bPIPSKruYRo
These traits are so nefarious and unconscionable that I have a hard time believing that anyone could harbor them. However, given the social, political, and economic climate that we are in, those in power who use their influence on controlling society most definitely possess these insidious traits. Everything that they do is all about control and since video games are the biggest market in the world, they want control over it and the communities built around it to accrue more wealth and to use that wealth to subjugate other cultures. Mainstream media is a tool as well as mainstream organizations and sites to help accomplish this goal.
The government recently announced its intentions towards what they believe is “GamerGate 2.0” and now even the ADL has made an official appearance, referring to gamers as “extremist’s”. We know EXACTLY what they are doing, and they aren’t even trying to hide it anymore because they don’t think we are aware of their motives. This is just a pretext for them to exert even more control and we know why, it’s because they want the influence we as a community have to must serve them. So here is what we do my fellow gamers-
“In light of recent events and years of mainstream stigma, we the members of the Global Gaming Community [GGC] must officially renounce ALL TIES to the corporate western video game market. We have been financially exploited through predatorial monetization schemes, pelted with numerous articles of disdain and intentional misrepresentation from game journalists, news outlets regarding us as dangerous individuals and, even subjected to inferior products not only riddled with bugs but also products meant to push political agendas. For the preservation of our community and its unique culture, apart from a few select game development studios we officially sever all connections to western owned video game companies & their mainstream affiliates. From this point onward, we will no longer support western corporate developers, journalists and publishers that do not coincide with the goals of our community.”
Naturally this is completely optional. If you are okay with the state of the gaming community as it is, feel free to ignore this. But if you wish for real change and a break away from oversaturated monetization in the games you play and the push for radical ideological reform, then you are in the right place. Lets sever these rotted miasmic ties once and for all so that our community can be preserved and made better for future gamers. If you agree with this, share it with whoever you think might be interested. The more gamers who get involved, the easier it will be for us to finally break free from mainstream game companies and their associates.

My mom and I were tying on clothes at a store and she comes out talking about how disgusting her body is and how she is so so fat and disgusting. I told her she’s beautiful and tried to move on. She then went on to say “fat people pants have this pouch for the hang over belly fat which is so disgusting”, I have a muffin top like she described. She then pointed to a larger woman and said “like that”. I was so hurt and embarrassed. I tried to get her to stop and change the conversation. I was silent on the way home and cried silently. If she sees herself as that and other large people like that, how does she see me?
I’m recovering from a major depressive episode where I had to move back in with my mom to have supervision. Previously I had been living on my own. This episode triggered my binge eating disorder and I gained 70 pounds in 5 months. I’ve never been this heavy in my life and I’m really trying to cope with being obese. My whole life I had been stick thin and that is what everyone complemented me on. My mom suggested weight watchers and such and I would try it and it would trigger my binge eating even more. Finally after months of help from doctors I was much much better. The past month I was back to exercising and eating my normal healthy meals without binge eating. I didn’t think about my body once and I was so so healthy.
So when she said her body was disgusting, we are the same size again and I might even be larger. It hurt me to my core. I tried not to say anything but when we got home she asked and I told her it hurts me to see either of our bodies in that light. She yelled at me and said what I said was entirely unfair, she’s not allowed to have a bad moment? I told her that it’s hurtful that she knows I struggle with an ED and talks like that. She called me selfish and said I hurt her by saying that. Saying I’m too sensitive and she can’t have just one bad moment without me being triggered.
I see where she is coming from, everyone hates their body from time to time. It must hurt her to make me upset when she’s upset. It must maker her feel like she can’t be upset. But in my eyes, the main trigger for my depression and Ed is my body. And she knows this. And it set me back today so much.

So the title looks bad but let me explain, my mother was a woman who never wanted me but her Catholic parents forced her to have me, she made it clear she never wanted me and I was dumped on any family that would take me then my grandparents took me in mostly. As a child I was made to cook, clean, wash and garden for my grandparents, even wiping my grans backside as she got more disabled, I was used for family enjoyment, baby sitting, cleaning and only went to school when the council and police got involved. So to keep me quiet they got me a dog, I LOVED this dog, he was the only thing pleased to see me, loved me, gave me the only joy I ever felt.... but this was nothing more than a tool, I was told if I said anything to anyone I would lose the dog and be put in a home where I would be abused more. When I ran away from school one time as I was bullied mercilessly because I wore my female relatives second hand clothes even underwear and it was obvious, I was found returned to my grandparents and told my dog had gotten sick and was dying.... they had poisioned him he passed and it broke me, for years after I silently obeyed. Decades later in my thirties I started getting cocky again, my grandfather lost his drivers licence and we had to get grouceries home delivered, which meant the computer and the internet, I started talking to people online and planned my escape.... so they got me another dog... and like a idiot I fell hard for him, so hard he was absued like me in his old home, he only trusted me, he slept in my bed in my arms, his head on my pillow, I watched him like a hawk and never let him be away from me. My gran a monster of a woman was getting dementia, she was sick alot, didnt ever want to get up was a whale of a woman and was growing violent to me, hitting me with a walking stick, screaming abuse, calling me worthless, a mistake, that she would make sure I died before her ETC. My grandad was worn out, thin and just tried to stay out of everything, I hated him for his neutrality and felt he could have saved me and didnt and was a coward. My family had all used and abused me for years, I was made to work nights so they could leach money, pay off loans and never saw a penny, I lost that job cause I never got to sleep and passed out at work to often. My gran went into hospital babling about men in the room in the corner three of them, grandad got scared and admitted her, then he doubled over the next morning in pain and we found out he was bleeding inside and was dying, they also told us my gran was dying to and asked us if we should tell her, my family decided not to tell her not me.... He died and she recovered and came home and BLAMED ME, she beat me, humilitated me, pissed on me, shit where she wanted, refused her pills, denide me sleep then she killed my dog..... my Shnauzer cross... my boy my love of my life. I wept and screamed and held his cold body in my arms and for the first time in my life my monster of a mother did me a kindness, she took him to her vets to be cremated, it is him I had paper work and such, he is with me still in a box I made him with his dog tag on top. After that I no longer fought with my gran to make her take her pills, she didnt want to wash I didnt wash her, she didnt want to eat fine I didnt care, I was a ghost, numb, I didnt feel like a living thing, nothing bothered me, nothing tasted, didnt sleep, didnt need to I dont even think I was alive. She threw herself out of bed knowing I couldnt life her, she did this multiple times in one night and it was so bad the ambulance crews refused to come out again leaving her moaning on the floor, I didnt know they refused to come out so had sat up now two nights on the trot for this and was done, my mother came round called the ambulance crews out, they got her into bed and I refused to look after her any more. They said they would only take her in if they could say I was abusing her, I said fine I am done, they took her in and said I could take a few days. I took those days and got rid of every single one of her mobility aids, rails everything so they couldnt release her as the house wasnt safe, I knew this hospital had a reputation for getting rid of bed blockers, they died weirdly.... and I refused to take care of her any more, within six months she was dead and I finally thought I was free. It took me another two years to get the estate as it was clear from the finances I was owed it for decades of them taking money from me I had more than paid for it and moved the hell away form everyone with the money from its sale, not without multiple death threats from my family first tho and please to move in with them and be their slave.... cause that was enticing. TLDR=Anyway I killed my gran by refusing to take care of her any more after she murdered my dogs and abused and enslaved me.