The bright yellow terror

‘’Every now and then I would stare at the murky brown water below and see several small glimpses of bright yellow popping up from and then retreating down below the surface in rhythmic fashion. Like a dance routine. Bright deadly yellow. The rotting sweet stench of death still lodged in my nostrils.’’
I had happened upon these diary pages by mistake when I was digging through old boxes in my basement. My wife had insisted, finally, that I sort out and get rid of everything I didn’t need. Now here I was, confronted with a part of my past I had tried to suppress unsuccessfully for so many years. 24 years to be exact. 24 odd years of trying to understand what exactly happened in those days when I was trapped on a rooftop in Phuket during a deadly and disastrous natural catastrophe.
24 odd years of having to dodge around questions of my abject and unwavering fear of the ocean. Well, in truth, I guess being caught in a large tsunami and witnessing immense destructive forces of nature coming directly from the great wide ocean would be a fair excuse, but it was only half the truth. It wasn’t just the waves themselves that had terrified me.
Until now, I thought the water damaged remains of the diary I kept back then was lost. I even hoped it was. I never shared this story with anyone. Partly because the horror was too fresh in my memory back then and I wanted to focus on moving on with my life and by the time I felt my mind was stabilized I had no real interest in returning to that dark part of my past. Partly because the right words always escaped me.
Mostly because I was afraid people would think I was insane. I can no longer contain this, however. I need an outlet. I spend years running from it. But I guess I can’t lie to myself anymore. Someone once told me that writing can be therapeutic. Simply putting your thoughts down on paper, or in our times, more likely in word document, can help you compartmentalize trauma. So, I’m giving it a try. I can’t pretend the events of those days in Phuket didn’t cast a shadow over everything in my life that came after.
I often think of the beach days I missed with my son when he was a boy. Days where I should’ve done dad stuff. Thrown him into the ocean. Watched him laugh his little face of as he braved the waves. Helped him build sandcastles. Gone exploring along the sandy shores in search of beached treasure in the form little rocks and the odd piece of amber. I just couldn’t. Initially I had objected to the idea of him going at all. Naturally, my wife would hear none of that and I realized reluctantly, that my fear and trauma should not rule my son’s life. Instead, my wife would go, and I would always stay home. She understood, to some degree, what I had gone through and where my fear came from.
Only to some degree. My son did not, and I fear he resented my absence on those perfect sunny days, despite my efforts to make up for it with other activities. Both he and my wife certainly noticed how closed off I was about certain parts of my past. Secrets untold, especially those who are grounded in trauma, almost inevitably turns to toxic in our systems. I’m finally ready. I just hope it isn’t too late.
I won’t lie. I’ve always had a vivid imagination although I have never had trouble distinguishing between what is real and what is not. At least until my sense of reality was forever challenged. I know these things happened to me. I know what I saw and what I experienced was real. I just don’t have a truly rational explanation for it. Yet, I swear, there was something in the water that came with that tsunami. Something deeply, deeply unnatural. Something brightly and oddly yellow. I had no other word for it than the bright yellow terror.
I had travelled to Thailand, more precisely Bangkok late December 2000. 19 years old about to turn 20. I was on one of those infamous and increasingly popular self-discovery trips. I had caught the fever. Like so many other young hopeful adventurers at the time I had seen The Beach. I had read into the wild by Jon Krakauer.
I watched Dicaprio walk the sandy shores of paradise and read on in excitement and awe as Christopher McCandles set out to become one with nature and discover himself. Kill the false being within and all that. In simple terms, I thought I’d try and find my own slice of heaven on earth. Expand my horizon. Get to know some new people. Learn something about myself in the process perhaps. I wasn’t exactly fleeing from anything, that wasn’t it. I had a loving although cuddling and overprotective family. Especially my mom would worry about me constantly (and still does).
Yes, I admit it. My parents had paved the way for me at almost every step. Made sure I got into the right schools. Made sure I never needed for money. I guess I got tired of feeling dependent on them. I stopped taking their money and saved up for the trip myself. It was time I stepped up. It was time I threw myself into the world to see what would happen. Hell of a time and place I picked for that.
The following story is based on the surviving pages of the diary I kept during the time and my own memory.
Bangkok 23rd December 2000. 4 days before the tsunami.
‘’My first day in Bangkok. Quite overwhelming but in a nice way. No one here to save me. No one here to tell me what to do. Thailand is hot and humid and there’s something in the air. I think it’s adventure. I think it’s limitless opportunity. I met a monkey in a diaper and got thoroughly beaten and lost 100 bath in a game of connect four by some 10-year-old kid. Got scammed as well though, I will have to wise up and learn the ropes. Avoid the yellow taxis. Go for the Tuk Tuks. Well, lesson learned. I met a guy who told me all kinds of terrifying things about Australia. Robert. I’m meeting him in Phuket a couple of days from now.’’
You could probably imagine the excitement bubbling within me. For the first time on my own. 19 years old. Prime of my life. In a strangely new and exotic city. Possibilities seemed endless. I still remember vividly driving off with the wind in my hair in a tuk-tuk as Bangkok unfolded before me with all its oriental mysticism and surrounding cityscapes. To be fair, I had never even seen an honest to god palm tree before as they simply couldn’t grow in the northern climate I was from.
I got myself stationed in a decent guesthouse around Khaosan Road. Everywhere I looked it seems others had gotten the same idea as me. Backpackers littered the streets and in a strange way, I felt at home amidst this quiet chaos, amidst the crowds of hopefully likeminded explorers, far, far away from home. The humidity was hitting me though, it was something I would have to get used to. It felt like a wet hot invisible blanket. Khaosan Road was perfect for me. A meeting place for young backpackers, with tons of opportunities to plan further travels. I did after all, not plan on staying in Bangkok for too long. It was just a stepping point to other adventures.
It was still early, and the humidity was clammy as hell. I was in the mood to socialize and with no real plans I simply ventured out into the streets of Bangkok, circling around the area where my guesthouse was located. It wasn’t long before the first opportunity presented itself in the form of a taxi driver calling me over. He offered to take me on a tour of the city. Foolish and naïve as I was, I indulged him. I remember how the cab driver lit up a doobie, joint, spliff, devil’s lettuce whatever you want to call it.
You know it as soon as you breathe in the air. Don’t get me wrong, I smoked myself, but letting a clearly high person drive me around the busy Bangkok traffic did not seem like a good idea. I should probably have asked to be let out that very moment, but as the kind of timid, shy type of person I was plus the desire to just go along with whatever happened come what may made me stay. Unsurprisingly I was eventually led to a store, fitted for a suit a didn’t want, and then subsequently charged an obscene amount for the cab ride. I didn’t have the courage to refuse his unreasonable demand. Noteworthy mention. That same night I heard from a fellow traveler that just recently someone had been stabbed in an argument with a cab driver. I didn’t let it get me down or drive me off course, because as you’ve probably gathered by now, I didn’t have a course.
As day turned to night and when the sun’s rays slowly disappeared behind the rooftops of Bangkok, the city itself began to transform. As if a part of it which had laid dormant, hidden away from the light, started to emerge.
Neon lights advertising different bars, people making all kinds of promises of untold pleasures and sensations. Tourists ready to party. All now filled the streets. Some seemed all too aware of what they were looking for, others simply drifted around aimlessly, in search of something unknown, something to spice up their existence. I found a small seemingly cool place called The Hangover. I swear to god, I wish to this day I hadn’t. Maybe then I wouldn’t have set my course for Phuket. In any case, I went in and pushed myself through the crowds of rowdy and loud tourists and up the bar where I ordered a Pina Colada. Please don’t judge me. I just really like coconuts and the song is pretty good as well. Standing at the crowded bar and looking around, hoping something interesting would catch my eye. But most of all, I was hoping someone would just take the first step and come talk to me.
Someone did. His name was Robert, and he was from Australia. A tall skinny and no-nonsense older guy who seemed quite experienced with all things Thailand. He eventually invited me down to his group of friends at the far back end of the bar. Robert spared no time telling me about himself. He had worked all kinds of jobs, in all kinds of places. Most recently he had worked as a guide in Phuket. Among other things he had arranged rock climbing expeditions. I probably forgot to mention, I was big into rock climbing and generally all kinds of outdoor activities back then.
I already had quite the climbing experience despite my young age. As Robert talked about all the places he’d been, he made me feel like the novice I was. That was never his intention though, as I quickly learned. He wasn’t a bragger. He just knew what he was talking about and when he laughed, he did it with his entire face and in a way that made you laugh with him and feel comfortable.
Eventually the conversation naturally gravitated towards Australia. A place I had always wanted to visit. He looked at me for a second, as if to contemplate something. Then told me to watch out for locals trying to play pranks on me. I was naturally interested in hearing more and that’s when he told me about drop bears. Supposedly drop bears are carnivorous versions of Koalas residing in trees to then drop down on unsuspecting victims and viciously attack them. We laughed quite a lot, and I admitted I would probably have believed the stories as I was a fairly naive person and the idea of hostile subspecies of koalas didn’t seem that farfetched to me. It would be typical of past me to get punked around like that. Our conversation then shifted towards Australian wildlife and fauna and the horrors residing within its diverse and complicated eco system. He told me about a plant not uncommonly referred to as the suicide plant. Dendrocnide moroides or more commonly known as stinging tree, stinging bush or gympie gympie apparently has such a nasty and painful sting it made a man commit suicide simply to escape the pain. Another dangerous inhabitant was the box jellyfish he explained.
Their sting was about as deadly as it gets. A single sting to a human will cause necrosis of the skin, excruciating pain and, if the dose of venom is large enough, cardiac arrest and death within minutes. I have always found jellyfish equal parts fascinating and equal parts frightening. Beautiful but deadly creatures. In fact, the ocean, in all its grand wide-reaching glory had always horrified me to some extent. So much unexplored space. Who truly knows what could be lurking down there? Robert quickly assured me, that as long as you take your precaution the likelihood of getting stung by a box jellyfish was rather small. They had signs up warning people against them. Generally, do not ignore these signs. They are there for a good reason.
It was getting late and before we said our goodbyes Robert suggested I meet him in Phuket, more precisely in the Khao Lak area on the 28^th as that was the first day he would be able to. I thought why not? He seemed genuinely nice and knowledgeable. Just good company all around and he promised to show me the greatest climbing spots a bit away from the crowded tours. It was a start.
I would never meet Robert again. I don’t know what happened to him. Thinking back on those days leading up to the point the waves came crashing down always gives me an uneasy, sad, and melancholic feeling. The people I met in Bangkok talking about going south. Those I met in Phuket before it happened. I have no idea if they ended up as corpses floating through the murky brown waters or god forbid, victims of that unholy terror from the deep. I hope Robert wasn’t among those unfortunate souls who died or went… ‘’Missing’’. Although if I must pick one or the other. I would hope he died quickly.
Bangkok 24^th of December 2000. 3 days before the tsunami.
I woke up with a slight hangover. Christmas is commonly celebrated on this date in my country, so I was expecting some calls to go through on my brick sized Nokia at some point once all the good folks back home woke up. They were about 5 hours behind me and at 9 AM Bangkok time they would still be sleeping. I used the time to do some shopping before my trip to Phuket. I got plenty of rope, a couple of snap hooks and a harness. I knew they’d have all of this on the guided tours, but I liked to find my own spots to climb, and I had good sense and knowledge enough to not attempt anything too daring. By the way. For those uninitiated, snap hooks are used to make a quick, reversible connection on a system of ropes, or to connect a rope or cord to another component, like a lanyard medallion or barrier post. Essential if you want to go climbing. If you’ve ever gone ziplining it’s the thing that connects you safely to the zipline and lets you slight across.
After having done my shopping, I bought a bus ticket to Phuket intending on leaving that same night and went back to my hotel room. As exciting as Bangkok was, I felt it was more for people intend on partying and in all honesty, a bit too crowded for me. I was excited to move on and I could always come back if I wanted to. On my way into the reception area, I was stopped by a young hip looking dude looking for a cigarette. Now I don’t necessarily consider myself a perfect judge of character, but he had an easy-going way about him that immediately drew me in. Sometimes, you can just tell.
He had sort of a rugged look about him. Dirty blond half-long hair. His face I would best describe as boyish but something in his eyes betrayed him and revealed his age to be older than you would assume. His style was… Boheme I guess I would describe it as. Like something taken out of the 70s LA scene. I’m not a smoker. Never was. So, I couldn’t help him on that front. It didn’t matter he would find someone else he said. For a while we just casually talked. Apparently, he had come to Bangkok just a few days prior and seemed about as lost and without direction as I had been before deciding on taking my chances in Phuket. Alex was his name, and he would later save my life and help me understand what it means to forge a quick and unbreakable connection through shared trauma, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
He asked me if I wanted to go somewhere and get a beer. I thought why not? He was about my age and on his own as well. I told him I had to go make some calls and I’d be out in about an hour. Back the hotel room I quickly gathered all my stuff and packed it up, so it was ready to go. My climbing gear took up the most space. I figured if things went well with Alex, I might be able to persuade him in joining me at some point in Phuket. Even though I had set out for this trip to be about discovering myself and being on my own, I longed for some kind of company. Don’t we all? I called my parents up and we wished each other a happy Christmas. It was odd to think they were somewhere nearly half-way across the world celebrating Christmas while snow draped the landscapes there. Here I was, In hot and humid paradise. No, I did not miss the cold or the snow, but I did miss not being there to celebrate the holidays with my family. But it had been my choice to go during the holiday season and I did not regret it. I had saved up enough money and there was no point in waiting anymore. There would be many other holidays to celebrate in the future.
My 5-year-old nephew somehow got a hold of the phone. Not quite the conversationalist yet, it still felt good to hear his voice. Hearing his excitement over the prospect of celebrating Christmas brought me back to my own childhood. Decorating the Christmas tree, watching holiday cartoons and of course, opening presents. I finished my calls and went out to see if Alex was ready. He was already waiting for me and had apparently managed to score some cigarettes in the meantime. He had changed his outfit as well. Now wearing a faded black doors t-shirt. We talked a bit about Jim Morrison and the doors as we headed off down streets. We passed a myriad of small stands selling everything from electronics to colorful t-shirts and small bracelets with campy misspelled English catchphrases. We dodged the many intrusive offers and eventually found a small comfy looking bar with seats outside shaded by palm trees. We ordered a couple of beers and the conversation started flowing along quite nicely. Alex was 25 and from London It turned out. We also had a common interest in music. For a while he had busked as a street musician while working odd jobs here and there and had eventually decided to travel the world.
His first stop had been India where for a while he had lived on the rooftop of some abandoned building while attempting to learn the art of playing the sitar. I thought about that for a second. Living it rough on some rooftop in India. I don’t know why that idea intrigued me so much. Seemed like freedom to me, I guess. Sleeping under the wide-open skies. Looking down on the streets and watching people go about their lives. I guess I just liked the idea of doing something that seemed different from what I had ever done before. Living on a rooftop, if even just for a while, was definitely not something I had done before. There was the view as well, Alex reminded me. And it was free of course. We drifted off into long conversations about music I won’t bore you too much with, only to let you know we shared a passion for old school music like the doors and Jimi Hendrix as well as 90s shoegaze music like My Bloody Valentine, Ride and Slowdive. I had Slowdive’s Shine playing in my mind that day. All felt so dreamy at the time.
I eventually told Alex of my plans to go to Phuket and he was onboard almost immediately. I loved how easy it was here on the road. There was no ‘’well maybe’’, or ‘’let’s think about it.’’ In fact, Alex had been to Phuket before and knew of a place we could stay for free. Another rooftop of course, but he had already sold me on the idea. From there, we could plan our next step he said. ‘’our next step’’ I don’t remember vibing with someone that quickly before or since, but then I guess making friends is always easier when you’re young and easy going. I always seemed to attract good company without much effort back then. I chalk it down to my friendly and slightly shy demeanor. Seems it only becomes harder to make friends as the years pass though. At least for me it did.
We got a bus ticket for Alex and shopped a bit more. I got some first aid supplies. Bandages, plasters, that kind of stuff. Rock climbing is safe, mind you, but you can end up scraping yourself and I felt in general, being prepared for whatever might be a good idea if I was to live it rough on some rooftop. The bus-ride to Phuket took about 12 hours give or take. By going at night, we could sleep most of the way and be in Phuket early morning on the 25^th. The trip down was uneventful. We would take turns listening to music on Alex’s Walkman or talk about things we saw along the way. Like roadside bars and restaurants who were little more than a tin roof covering a few plastic chairs and brightly colored menu cards. Everything seemed simpler here, in the best ways possible.
No big flash, no fanfares or luxury. Nothing pretentious. Just a calm, laid back atmosphere and friendly smiles from the locals as we passed by. Alex told me he wanted to start a band blending elements of Shoegaze with classic rock and insisted I learn to play the drums as he had tried but found no luck. String instruments were more him he told me. I told him jokingly if he could come up with a good name, I might be down. He just nodded and looked out the window and started talking about how beef was a rare and more expensive ingredient in Thai cuisine, and I wondered about the sudden random change of subject. Although we had talked a lot during the short time we had known each other, Alex was still a mystery to me in many ways. Judging from all the things he told me he seemed like a person who dreamed big, but never really followed through
An unfinished education. Scribbles on pieces of paper that ended up gathering dust in his drawer instead of turning into a book. A band that never really took off because he lost interest or didn’t deem that it was good enough to get successful. He talked at length about leaving a legacy. It seemed to be something that concerned him. I guess he wanted to put his mark on the world. To be remembered. To live on in some small way. I had never really thought about it myself although I did have a fascination with historical people and the lives they lived. In fact, when I do read I mostly read biographies. I just never had any ambition like that myself. I don’t need the world to know my name, or sing my praises, or remember me. Good friends, family and a sense of freedom and adventure was enough. I had tried to ask Alex about his family and friends back home, but he seemed avoidant and always found a way to change the subject without really providing any meaningful information. At certain points, I sensed a carefully hidden sadness behind his otherwise optimistically youthful and bright blue gaze.
Phuket 25^th of December 2000. 2 days before the tsunami.
Alex woke me up. It was 9 AM and we had arrived at the Phuket bus terminal 1 near Phang Nga Road. We were here. Alex explained to me that the there were several derelict and abandoned buildings perfect for establishing a free of charge rooftop domicile in an area not too far from the resorts of Khao Lak. Phuket back then wasn’t exactly the overcrowded tourist spot it is today, but it was well on the way. I understood why. The scenery was beautiful. Long sandy beaches with small island dots in the horizon, begging to be explored. Giant limestone cliffs covered in green shrubs. It did seem like paradise to me, without being too far away from civilization. I guess despite my adventurous nature, I wasn’t quite ready at that point, to walk into the wild, which is why Khao Lak seemed perfect as a start for me.
We found the area Alex had talked about. Several derelict buildings were concentrated in a small area divided by a main street that if followed long enough, led to an area with shops and places to dine. We set our eyes on what looked like an abandoned apartment complex. It was derelict, rugged looking and it seemed clear at first that no one lived there. Its ghostly façade begged us inside to explore and we accepted the invitation. As we made our way in, through a busted window in the back, we quickly became aware that the place might not be as abandoned as we had initially thought. Several signs of squatters such as cooking utensils and sleeping mats lay scattered here and there. Alex quickly rationalized that it could just be other backpackers, or it could be the people had moved on. I shrugged and we decided to make our way to the roof. We made our way to the top floor and accessed a broken-down door that led directly out onto the roof. I must admit, besides excitement, I was somewhat hesitant. Any doubt I had disappeared when we first stepped onto the rooftop terrace. It was perfect. It seemed it had functioned as a balcony or space of sorts the inhabitants could make use of for gatherings.
The entire space was surrounded by a fence. Several palm trees shaded the northwest corner which was perfect for when things got too hot. In the middle a small shed or janitorial sort of building stood. We found some cleaning materials, brooms, some parasols in there as well as an old rusty grill. The view was great. We could see the large beachfront in the far distance surrounded by limestones. After inspecting the area and finding it to our liking we sat down, and Alex broke out a bottle of whiskey. Unaware of the horror that would later unfold here, we celebrated in the shade of the palm trees. We had found our place for a while. Our place.
After a while we decided to put some money in the local economy and shop for supplies.
Essentials: Water. Cigarettes. Booze. The devil’s lettuce. Cooking utensils. Although none of us was admittedly any much of a cook. But what the hell. Can’t be seen dining out every night when we were trying to live off the fat of the land so to speak. I know, ridiculous. We were squatters. Nothing more. But heck, we would move on if we became a problem for any one here. We weren’t trying to be a bother.
Optional but greatly wanted: A blow-up animal mascot. Maybe a dolphin if possible. Some new music for Alex’s walk-man. A guitar. Decorating artifacts of any kind to make our domicile more personal.
We more or less got everything we needed and started setting up base. Getting our hands on something funny to smoke proved the biggest challenge but Alex finally succeeded at a beachfront bar. Some friendly Norwegian dude who had connections apparently. He warned us against being too open about doing drugs, even if was ‘’just’’ marijuana. Thailand had a strict approach to drugs. We thanked him and he told us to just come back here at the bar if we needed more, he was usually around.
Afternoon was rolling around and there we were. Sitting atop Phuket. On our very own rooftop presidential suite. We decorated the place with a few things we found. Among them ‘’Arthur’’ our blow-up shark (they had no dolphins). Alex had come up with the name, I asked him why ‘’Arthur’’ but in what I had quickly come to know as typical Alex fashion he just shrugged it off. We just smoked a bit and drank some booze as the evening progressed and I told Alex about Robert and Australia and all the nasty things that could kill you there. I’m not sure why, but it had made an impression on me. Insects, rare poisonous creatures, stuff like that was nightmare fuel for me. Don’t even get me started on spiders. Alex was a bit more laid back on that front. He seemed most amused and interested in the suicide plant and wondered if some poor soul had ever mistakenly used it as toilet paper and we had a good hard chuckle over that idea. Poor soul indeed.
As night rolled on stars started popping up on a clear night the sky and I learned that Alex had a fascination with the universe. Particularly the idea of multiverses and infinite universes. What if somewhere out there we were looking back at ourselves. Slightly different but still us. Sometimes it seemed to me he longed to be anywhere else but where he was. Maybe trapped in the past he was so reluctant to share with me. Then we started talking about time. I don’t exactly remember why. I think he brought it up.
Anyway, Alex had a lot to say about time. Like how he believed our perception of time is tied to our experiences. For example, someone who spends their life not stepping up, not really taking risks or chances, just following along the stream, just following the routine, in essence, just killing time, might experience time as having moved fast when they look back, because there are simply less variety, less volume, less memories to look back on. We don’t remember routines, we remember breaking them, we remember doing new things, meeting new people, being in new places. It creates the illusion that gives time volume, that makes it seem fuller, longer. I liked that idea a lot. It made sense to me. Make sure you live life to the fullest and waste as little time as possible.
I told him about my 10^th grade math teacher and how he said something about time I will never forget. Our perception of time can be measured mathematically. For example, to a 4-year-old turning 5 the transition of a year will seem much longer than it will to a 24-year-old turning 25. Because 1 in 5 is a larger fraction than 1 in 25. It blew my mind. The longer you live, the faster time seem to pass. But I agreed with him, maybe the quality and variety of the life you live and the memories you make has an affect too. Alex made a ‘’boom’’ motion with his hands around his head and laughed. We were quite stoned at that point and well, some of you might know how being stoned sometimes throws you into these philosophical conversations. It was nice. I enjoyed the ease with which I could talk to Alex about all kinds of things.
At one point I asked him a hypothetical. If he could go back in time and change just one thing, what would he do. He fell silent. I once again sensed the sadness creeping behind his eyes. It was if he was about to answer, like he was sizing me up but then shot the idea down. Time travel is impossible, so why bother was his only response and I accepted that whatever troubled him in the past, was not for me to know even if my interest only grew stronger and stronger.
I told him about my family. My overprotective mother. My father and his desperate attempts to get me interested in cars. About my older sister and my nephew. Alex nodded and asked the usual polite questions. When the subject came to my little brother his interest seemed to spark significantly. How old was he? Was I good older brother? Did I look out for him? I didn’t think much about it at the time other than finding it curious how interested he seemed to be. When we finally settled in the for night, under the starry sky, I slipped into a nightmare. It was the same I had had years earlier when I was 16. Back then I was having a hard time adjusting to the new school I had started at and maybe because of that stress I was having nightmares coupled with sleep paralysis.
I would lie in my bed, paralyzed. On my side, facing the door to my room. I often had the light on outside of the room and it would shine in through the open door. This one time , I saw dark figure approaching. Optimistically I assumed it was my mom, coming to wake me up. Although as the dark figure approached, I quickly realized this wasn’t so. No words were uttered. The eerie figure just slowly came closer, until it was right by my bed side. It sat down and I realized it was an old woman or man. It was hard to tell, because its face was literally just a mish mash of wrinkled flesh. No eyes and no mouth either. But it mumbled through its mouthless face. Speaking in tongues.
I spent some considerable time afterwards wondering what it could have been trying to communicate to me. I know of course, this was all just my mind playing tricks on me. Yet, that experience was, I suppose, my first nudge towards believing there’s more between heaven and earth than we might know. It seemed aggressive in any case. My insides were screaming as I desperately tried to wiggle myself awake as I had sometimes successfully done during paralysis. I eventually woke up. Drenched in sweat. Back then though, I had actually been in my room, and in the dream the room had stood clearly for me as it actually looked in reality which only made it seem more real. This time, I woke up next to Alex, still drenched in sweat. Alex had woken up. I had screamed in my sleep apparently. He comforted me in an almost brotherly show of affection. It took me by surprise a bit. I appreciated it, though it only made me wonder about him even more. I would have to solve the mystery behind Alex I decided. I would have to truly gain his trust. Figure him out. And I did.
Phuket 26^th of December 2000. 1 day before the tsunami.
‘’Alex played the guitar a bit and I drummed up some beats. It needed some work, but not half bad. We came up with a name for our band to be as well. Subway sleepers. Based on Alex’s time sleeping in the subway of London. It was another hot perfect day on the rooftop. We talked about going climbing the next day and I can’t wait to show Alex the joys of rock climbing. Everything is peaceful here. No stress. Just living life. Smoking it up. Meeting new people. We talked some more with that Norwegian weed dude and invited him and a couple of his friends up to ‘’our’’ place for a party. Another near perfect day.’’
Looking at these diary scribbles is making me feel it all over again. The serenity of those calm worriless summer days (well it was winter back home but it felt like summer here. Strange that) leading up to disaster. Always calmest before the storm they say. This was our last day before everything changed. Before I got a lesson in humanity. In stress under crisis. Before everything I thought I knew changed forever in the meeting with something that surely shouldn’t exist in this world.

Recently, I came to a realization of how to make an interesting character (at least in my opinion anyways).

• Start with a profession you'd like to do in game (e.g., merchant, lumberjack, hunter, chef, etc).
• Pick a theme for your character (e.g., secret agent, samurai, fighter who wants to roll a ton of d6's, archer, etc).
• Pick a race and class that thematically compliments your choices, not enhance (i.e., give yourself another tool to interact with the world, don't focus on enhancing something further).

Does anyone else have any incredibly simple things they do to help them make cool characters?
Prior to doing this, I was always trying to min-max and flesh out characters in such detail that it made them incredibly boring to play. That said, these days I'm the DM for the group and I've got a lot of pent-up excitement to play myself so I've been designing characters for fun.
So, some of the example characters I've been playing around with (all level 3):

• Samurai variant human with chef feat who is a mastermind rogue. They like to cook the creatures they kill, they use a rapier (flavored as a katana), they use the Ready action to not make the first move (honorably). They're also able to bonus action Help, forge documents, and disguise themselves to support the team.
• A kender arcane archer fighter who is a grizzled veteran hunter. They taunt enemies from across the battlefield to force them to walk across the whole thing to fight them or face disadvantage. They track, kill, and skin goblins collecting their leather because they believe goblins are holy creatures who have magical properties that must be harness. They make potions from their blood and armor from their leather; but who knows what, if any, bonuses they give. He's secretly the laughing stock of his artisan guild, but people are too intimidated to laugh at him is his presence.
• A changeling oath of the crown paladin who is lawful neutral and believes that the law of the natural world is that if you aren't taking advantage of someone, they're taking advantage of you (though has found some symbiotic relationships can occur, so he's not an annoying a-hole to party with). He's a traveling merchant who wants to become a better deal maker than the devil himself. Deals are everything and he even aspires to become the patron of one or more warlocks (if the DM wants to allow that). He's a changeling who spends his time looking like a devil he saw once, but takes a similar looking human form to blend in and not draw attention. He brews his own beer to get customers drunk and more willing to sign deals.
• A shadar-kai aberrant mind sorcerer who used to be a martial fighter trained with the glaive, but a powerful wizard's soul found him and bound itself to him. He now has magical fire and mental powers for spellcasting. Spells just kind of cast sometimes without anyone realizing it's going to happen (i.e., Subtle spell + flavor). He finds himself picking herbs and making potions that he knows nothing about due to the wizard soul's presence as well.

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The Grand Dining Hall. Local time: 1210
Emma
The dining hall was, for all intents and purposes, the den of gossip.
[Grand Dining Hall. Add: Alternative Designator - DEN OF GOSSIP]
This was proven true by the incessant and rampant whispers, most of which were eventually hidden under privacy screens.But some of which were allowed to permeate through the air like a foul and sickening stench.
“What’s he trying to prove?”
“Usurpers. Tepid-blood minor nobles thinking themselves bigshots in their ill-gotten castles. This is all they know — power through brute strength.”
“Do you think this could be some sort of a roundabout statement for the House Choosing Ceremony?”
“Could be, or maybe the newrealmer is rubbing off on him. I heard those savages live in hunting-packs that deal exclusively in violence.”
“Poor Lord Ping… the man’s been dealt so many blows both to his ego and integrity. He truly is the victim in this upstart’s rebellion.”
“Let us hope the pious Ping prevails over his undeserving trials and tribulations. The man’s a saint, a pious soul that must hold fast for those of us adherent to the eternal truths.”
“Or perhaps we should wait and see how things develop. I, for one, wish to side neither with the narrow-minded bull nor the aggressive upstarts.”
“Lord Qiv may prove to be the more suitable candidate for class sovereign… but only time will tell.”
“Never in my wildest of imaginations would I have ever considered that the one to threaten our position, our place, our image, and our very survival in this sky of feral drakes to be you — Prince Thalmin.” Ilunor managed out incredulously, breaking me out of my long-range acoustic reverie. Though unlike his prior confrontations with myself, his current voice lacked the same intense vitriol. Instead, that was replaced with what I could only describe as a genuine sense of disappointment, as if confronting a friend who knew better than to commit to a dumb decision.
“That’s an understandable statement to make, Ilunor.” Thalmin replied uncharacteristically calmly, as if he hadn’t even registered the Vunerian’s assaults. Or at least, that seemed to be the case, until he shot the deluxe Kobold a predatory side-eye. “Because creatures that lack honor, integrity, and personal dignity, often conflate sacrifices and risk-taking, for foolishness and idiocy. For within the heart of a Nexian, lies only compromise for the sake of convenience. Whether that be the convenience of survival, the convenience of continuity, or the convenience of the status quo, you will sacrifice everything to maintain it — even if it means allowing your honor to remain sullied and trodden when there exists a pool to cleanse away that shame.”
Thacea’s eyes grew wary with concern at that statement, one of the few instances I’d seen her genuinely worried about an Ilunor-Thalmin interaction. In fact, even I didn’t dare to interrupt, especially after both parties had shot death-glares towards our elven waiter as he arrived with the lunch platter.
“Restraint, Prince Thalmin.” Ilunor responded with a deep and calculating breath. “This isn’t the adjacent realms, this isn’t Havenbrockrealm.”
“Oh that much is very clear to me, Ilunor.” Thalmin interjected with something just short of a growl. “In Havenbrockrealm, we would sooner slash, stab, flay, or lash our enemies in fair and open combat, than reduce ourselves to cowardly attempts at assassination or retreat with our tails between our legs at the earliest signs of defeat.”
Ilunor took another breath, placing a small hand atop of his snout. “I… empathize with your desires to follow through with what you believe is a morally sound decision.” The Vunerian responded in a surprising display of maturity. “However, and this goes for you as well, newrealmer—” He paused for a moment, taking the time to glare at me before shifting back to Thalmin. “—we are not acting as independent actors anymore. For better or for worse… which, mind you, I still strongly believe this is very much for the worse in my case… we are now a peer group. And as such, the actions we take and their resultant fallout, should represent the interests of us all.”
“These are bold claims.” Thalmin began with a restrained snarl. “Even bolder when considering your actions the week prior. If the measure of a man were dictated by his words alone, then I would be inclined to acquiesce. However, considering the measure of a man extends beyond the weightless chatter of an exhaled breath, I feel far more inclined to reserve such actions for those far more deserving of my respect.” At which point, the lupinor turned towards both Thacea and I, following that up with a dip of his head. “I apologize, Thacea, Emma, for conducting myself in the way I did.”
Thalmin took a moment to pause, side eyeing Ilunor as he acknowledged him once again. “Whilst his character may sully his words, there is some truth to them. I have, admittedly, overstepped my bounds in committing to an action which undeniably affects the group. However, I genuinely hope you understand the reasons behind my otherwise brash decision. For I must stand on principle, lest I decide to stand at all.”
“Given the crap Auris Ping pulled last night, I’m inclined to agree with you, Thalmin. More than that, I would’ve gladly taken your place and dueled him the good old fashioned way if I could. Besides, the look on his face when you chose him to be your dueling partner? It was just priceless.” I offered with a snide grin. “In all seriousness, I’m really not in a position to chastise anyone on the issue of just gunning it with your gut instinct anyways. Heck, the entirety of last week was one long drawn out escapade for my sake, which came at the expense of the group after all.” I chuckled nervously. “So… yeah, this is incredibly tame by those standards, Thalmin.”
“Whilst… unexpected, and indeed a risk, I can understand the reasons behind it, Thalmin.” Thacea nodded uneasily. “However, I do not advise any of you to make a habit out of this.” She commanded, making an effort to make individual eye contact with each and every one of us.
Thacea’s group-mom vibes were definitely showing at this point, which was probably for the better. Given the group seemed to be a magnet for this sort of thing, it was good to have an anchor of sorts.
Sure thing, mom. Was what my gut instinct screamed at me to say.
But instead, I decided to tone it down a notch.
“As you command, princess.” I dipped my head in acknowledgement, garnering a look of abashed confusion from Thacea, and just plain-old confusion from the other two.
“In any case… I… believe you wished to discuss matters outside of classroom priorities, Emma?” Thacea quickly attempted to shift past that little bit of prodding, which I obliged with an affirmative nod.
“Yep. Well, it’s more of a small change of plans that I think is worth discussing with you guys. So, you remember how I was planning on deploying an infil-drone on Mal’tory after the end of class right?”
All three nodded, urging me to continue.
“Well, since Mal’tory was a no-show, and with Larial taking the reins instead… I think it’s best if we stick with the plan anyways, just swapping out Mal’tory for Larial. I honestly don’t see any other way we can continue the library’s questline, or any other way to find evidence to support the Auris Ping-Mal’tory hypothesis we have going on. I know it’s a huge gamble since there’s no way of knowing if she’ll even head to Mal’tory’s office after class. But honestly? This is our best shot right now.”
“I concur, Emma.” Thalmin announced with a nod.
“Given her proximity to the professor’s orbit, we may in fact gain a greater bearing on his actual state. Which in itself may prove useful.” Thacea offered, more or less acknowledging my change of plans implicitly.
“We don’t seem to have any other choice, earthrealmer. So a shot in the dark is better than stowing your wand.” Ilunor acknowledged in a rare display of solidarity.
“It’s settled then. I’ll deploy the drone right after class is dismissed. Then, we wait and see what the drone comes up with.”

The Grand Concourse of Learning. The Hall of Light. Local Time: 14:00 Hours.
Emma
Mana field perception was, as one would expect, dry, bland, and utterly nonsensical.
Throughout most of it, the lesson was taught as if it was referencing something obvious, something mundane, something so typical that a lot of the topics were all but overlooked as ‘self evident’.
A lot of what was taught reminded me of a mix between perception-theory, and situational awareness training. However, instead of relying on your eyes, ears, heck, even your nose or sense of touch… it was instead relying on something completely outside of the human experience.
“Mana field perception, is at its core, a subject that is inherent to the sapient condition. However, the extent to which it is appreciated, understood, and most important of all — applied — varies exponentially. To an untrained mind, and an untempered soul, the world feels tepid.”
The apprentice paused, gesturing to Sorecar, who answered his cue by pulling out a massive painting of a beautiful mountainscape that seemed to play through a closed animation loop; the effect was like a high-definition e-ink display.
“To a trained mind, but an untempered soul, the world feels… distant, unaccommodating, and frustrating to emotionally comprehend.” Larial continued, prompting Sorecar to pull out yet another painting. This one, the exact same as the first, with literally no differences between them.
“To an untrained mind, but a tempered soul, the world feels… unpredictable, erratic, and frustrating to logically put together.” Once again, another painting was brought out. This one, just like the previous two, looked completely identical.
“But to a sufficiently trained mind, and a tempered soul, with enough time invested into both theory and practice… the world becomes open, expansive, and above all else… it becomes rich with sights and sensations that would be impossible to feel with the physical form alone.” Larial concluded, just as Sorecar pulled out what looked to be yet another identical painting.
The EVI’s analysis concluded that there were absolutely no differences between the four paintings. Moreover, the mana radiation signatures for each were likewise exactly the same.
It was only after slipping a note towards Thacea with a question written in High Nexian did I finally get my answer.
‘What’s the deal with these paintings? They’re all identical.’
Thacea quickly slipped me a blank piece of parchment in response.
Though it didn’t remain blank for long, as words and sentences started appearing on it; mirroring Thacea’s furious ‘note taking’ in her own notebook.
‘They’re artisanal pieces imbued with the purposeful manipulation of the subject’s aura, mana-field, and the surrounding mana. They were brought out in order to demonstrate the different degrees of mana-field perception by exaggerating the most common shortcomings found in those training in the magical arts. The first piece was, similar to your memory shards, lacking in any mana-fields or auras. The second and third pieces demonstrated a failure to imbue one or the other of the two fundamental tenets of mana-field perception. The fourth piece is representative of a perfect balance of both tenets, and is an exquisite work of art that completely outshines the first. It radiates beauty, whilst the first is flat and lifeless.’
It took a moment for me to really register all that. Longer still, as I eventually became fixated on that last line in particular.
Flat and lifeless… is that what the world is like from my eyes?
It was around that time that a thought hit me, and a realization truly sank deep into my very being.
The world that Thacea, Thalmin, Ilunor, and the rest of the magical beings across the interdimensional plane experienced… was one that I was utterly blind to.
It’d been referenced before.
In fact, it’d been drilled into me time and time again by the likes of Ilunor that I was lacking in something fundamental.
But up until now, everything was either circumstantial, or outside of my general focus. So much so that I never was able to digest the implications of it.
However, as much as a pit formed in my stomach, growing tighter by the second as Larial went on and on about the ebbs and flows of mana, so too did a very human resolve suddenly dawn upon me.
“I’m going to see what you guys see one day.” I wrote down on Thacea’s magic paper.
“How?” Was the message I received back.
To which I only had one thing to reply with.
“The same way we overcame all of our other shortcomings.” I wrote cryptically, garnering a look of confusion from Thacea as she read the note, to which I only had to point at my armor for added effect.
By once again defying nature. I thought to myself.
If we weren’t born with the ability to ‘see’ this beauty, we’d find a way to break it down into its fundamental components, dissect it, analyze it, and then reinterpret it for ourselves.
The class continued on after that exchange of notes, as we touched upon what Ilunor had so eloquently described on that second day of the grace period:
One: that manastreams were everywhere around us.
Two: that manafields generated by living organisms were akin to rocks that not only parted those streams, but at times, interacted with them.
Three: that using manafields, one could make out the presence of other manafields through the manastreams, and thus detect and extract information as is pertinent to the context of the situation.
And while Ilunor would’ve blabbered on and on about the ability to see and sense the emotional state of others through the manastreams, what Larial seemed to be focused on instead were the practical applications of this natural ability. Namely, she focused on exactly how to detect a spell being cast, what sort of spell was being cast, and most importantly — she focused on how it all tied back to Light Magic.
“In summary, only when one is proficient in the detection and analysis of manafields, can one finally start to dissect the intricacies of a manafield during spellcasting. And only once one masters the detection of spellcasting, can one even hope to begin the process of dispelling. The first step of which is to know exactly what a manafield looks like during spellcasting. Is there anyone in the class that can tell me what that looks like?” The professor asked, looking around, before picking one of the many raised hands.
This one belonged to Qiv.
“Yes, Lord Qiv?”
“Influxes and effluxes, Professor. One will see the influx of ambient mana through the manastreams into a manafield, and the potential efflux of mana through a manafield back into the manastreams in the form of a controlled mana-construct.”
“Very good, Lord Qiv! Five points! Now, hold your thoughts on that latter part, because that ties into my next question!” Larial responded with a giddiness and chipperness that seemed to be lacking in every other class up to this point. “The fundamental means of detecting a spell being cast is by looking out for a point of influx, and a point of efflux. Influx being the more difficult of the pair to detect, for what you have to look out for is mana is being funneled into a manafield. A weak spell being cast, will incur less disruptions in a manastream. However, the opposite is also true. As the more powerful the spell, and the more powerful the mage, the greater the rate of influx, as the amount of mana needed to fulfill the requirements of the spell increases. Paradoxically this would mean it will be easier to detect a powerful spell before it is cast, as the reduction in the concentration of ambient mana will be more palpable as a result. Efflux however, is rather straightforward, and will be the primary vehicle through which Mana-field Perception will be taught. As it is through efflux that we can ascertain the most useful details of a spell, or as Lord Qiv so eloquently puts it — the mana-construct. Does anyone know what this next point may be referring to?”
Surprisingly, and out of a clear bias towards Qiv, Larial once more called him up.
I couldn’t blame her though.
The man, despite being a certified bully and teacher’s pet, was one of the few students who didn’t openly doubt the apprentice’s capabilities during the start of class.
“Yes, Lord Qiv?”
“The mana-construct refers to the skeleton of a spell; the arrangement and unique form it takes before manifesting into a proper spell.” The gorn-like lizard responded confidently.
“Outstanding, Lord Qiv! Five points! Now, whilst a mana-construct is indeed a vital step in the process of spell casting, its manifestation is rarely the point in time in which a spell can be intercepted — save for those who have mastered the art of Light Magic. As a result, a spell can be halted before it even has the chance to form. To most however, the mana-construct acts as a cue to prepare. It is a signal that demonstrates the irrefutable start to a spell. And as a result, it provides major structural clues as to the form of Light Magic that must be employed to combat it. Which leads me to my next point.”
The apprentice once more paused, as she manifested literally nothing visible to the tune of more than a dozen mana radiation warnings.
“When broken down to their basic components, every spell is a complicated meshwork of mana, channeled and contained within a dynamic pattern that continuously evolves throughout the duration of a spell. Because unlike artificing, the casting of magic evolves with unpredictability and thrives on organic change. No offense to you, of course, Professor Pliska.” The apprentice turned towards Sorecar worryingly, who simply responded with a bellowing laugh.
“None taken, my aspiring understudy!”
With that, Larial continued, her hands moving through an empty section of air that everyone seemed to be focused on; as if manipulating a hologram that I wasn’t privy to. “However, in spite of this unpredictability, the goal of Light Magic and Mana-field Perception in particular is to untangle the aforementioned meshwork of mana. For every spell is a puzzle and a series of knots to untangle. Your goal in this class, if I am to be reductive, is to untangle the complex mesh that comprises a spell, unraveling it to a point in which it can no longer maintain its form — collapsing it and thus, rendering it inert.” The apprentice emphasized this by miming what looked to be tiny little motions with her fingers, before pulling both hands backwards, garnering a series of affirmative nods from the crowd. “And with that, we now reach the conclusion of today’s class.”
“Or more accurately, the leadup to the climax of this class.” Sorecar quickly chimed in with a wave of his hand, prompting the room to change once more. Section upon section of the front of the classroom’s floor was dragged down into the impossible void, only to be replaced just as quickly by an elevated stage resembling that of a fencing strip. “Will the aspiring duelists please rise and approach the stage?” Sorecar turned back towards the crowd, prompting both Thalmin and Auris to stand, the pair giving each other some strong side-eyes before both marching up and towards the front of the class.
From there, with not a single word exchanged, they took their places, Thalmin at the far right, and Auris on the far left.
“The purpose of this demonstration is simple.” The apprentice began, as Sorecar began moving towards both Thalmin and Auris, insisting them to pay attention. “It is to show that even in spite of the complicated principles behind Light Magic, that there exists far simpler, far more basic principles that can achieve similar means. A precursor to more contemporary methods; spell-breaking. A maneuver that involves overpowering the structure and flow of a spell using a concentrated burst of pure mana irregardless of the type. However, unlike traditional dispelling seen in contemporary Light Magic, spell-breaking oftentimes requires a user to concentrate a disproportionately larger amount of mana in order to properly break a spell. It is thus highly inefficient, and as a result becomes rapidly impractical upon encountering spellcrafts of sufficiently advanced tiers. This demonstration will be aptly limited to a simple barrier-spell for the likes of the reciprocator, so as to not overburden the initiator with this simple task.”
The apprentice quickly passed on the torch to Sorecar, who quickly took center stage with a few steps.
“Now, as this is not a traditional duel for dominance, nor is it a sporting duel for the purposes of victory, I will explain the narrow context by which this duel will be held.” Sorecar continued, his hands clapping together, generating an empty and resonant CLANG in the process. “To our right, is our initiator, who will be demonstrating the principles of spell-breaking in an active capacity. To our left, is our reciprocator, who will be taking on the role of demonstrative spellcaster, casting only barrier spells for the duration of this short demonstration. Remember, there is to be no additional spells cast or demonstrated outside of these parameters. Is that clear?” Sorecar paused, making sure to meet both of the opponents’ gazes with his empty helm.
“Yes, professor!” Both parties shouted simultaneously, barely containing their frustrations beneath a veneer of calm and restrained fury.
“Then we shall begin on the count of three.” The apprentice continued, taking the reins over from Sorecar, as she stood just a few steps away from the stage’s combat-lines. “One.” She began, as Auris began moving into position, practically grinding his booted hooves into the stage, and taking on the posture of some unknown martial art. “Two.” Thalmin reciprocated by taking a more aggressive posture, as if positioning himself to leap towards the bull in a ravenous rage at the drop of a hat.
“Three.”
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 225% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 350% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
Nothing seemed to happen.
At least, not to my eyes.
Within a matter of seconds, all I witnessed were two mana radiation warnings timelogged as only a few seconds apart from one another.
No physical effects were evident to me. Nothing, except for the flinching of a few muscles, and the waving of arms. As if they were conjuring make-believe magic spells, without the added special effects that came with it.
Ironically, this was how I was expecting most Nexians to react to the reveal of laser weaponry. Silent, invisible, but otherwise omnipresent and deadly threats.
Though despite the lack of any physical effects I could discern, there were certainly more than enough context-clues to go by when it came to exactly what had just occurred.
Auris’ features had more or less swelled up into a fury. His nostrils flared just short of snorting out fumes, and his teeth were bared clearly holding back a few choice words for the now-grinning Thalmin.
“Again.” He demanded, and barely a second after a nod of approval from the apprentice, came two more mana radiation warnings.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 300% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 425% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
Once again, no noticeable physical effects had manifested. Though judging from the bewildered and shocked expressions of the crowd, something was definitely happening within the invisible world that was accessible through mana-vision.
“Again!” Ping announced, barely garnering approval from the apprentice this time, as things took a sudden enough turn that even I could notice them.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 400% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
It started with that ‘barrier’ again.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 500% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
Followed by Thalmin overpowering it.
However, instead of letting things go, Ping instead pushed towards a frenzied series of attacks.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 375% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
As one—
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 400% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
—after another—
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 400% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
—after another—
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 400% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
—after another ‘barrier’ spell seemed to actually be causing Thalmin some pushback now. His movements now resembled someone attempting to dodge invisible projectiles, yet Auris made no moves to actually fling anything at him, only maintaining his prior stance.
Though of course, this came with the same expected response.
As Thalmin retaliated with his own attacks. Or rather, one, very large attack that truly outclassed what Auris could currently muster in his furious state.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 550% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
This spell that mildly shook the room seemed to be enough to ‘break’ the sudden incursion, prompting both Ping and Thalmin to turn towards the apprentice — the former blasting steam from his snout and the latter slashing his tail in the air — for yet another round of fighting, only to have Sorecar step in, placing a hand on both of the duelists who were barely a foot away from each other now.
“Wonderful! Excellent! Put your hands together for our introductory duelists, everyone!” The professor quickly coerced both of the parties to face the class, actively grabbing them by the small of their back, and thus effectively entrapping them with his iron grip — forcing them to face the class who cheered on with a series of applauses.
Not a second later, the pair of them bowed, though it was unclear how much of this was Sorecar’s doing, and how much of this was done out of their own will.
“In any case, seeing as both of our aspiring duelists have gone above and beyond in their demonstration, and seeing that this is merely a demonstration, and not a challenge—” Sorecar emphasized that last point, forcing the pair to sweat in his over-shoulder grip. “—I believe it would be prudent to award them each a fair share of this duel’s fifty points.”
“Given the enthusiasm shown, I am inclined to agree, Professor Pliska.” The apprentice quickly nodded, prompting the armorer to quickly push both of them off-stage, and back towards the staggered raised steps of the lecture hall.
“Twenty-five points for both of our duelist’s groups.” Larial reiterated, and with a final round of reluctant applause, barely overpowering the incoming band marking the end of class… the apprentice made her final statement. “This concludes this week’s first lesson. Considering the house choosing ceremony coming up this weekend, along with the Elaseer school supply shopping trip to town… I am inclined to grant this class some clemency. No homework will be required. So please, enjoy the rest of the day, and prepare yourselves for what could be the most decisive day in your academic career here in Transgracia. Class dismissed!”
No sooner were those words uttered did my eyes quickly turn towards my HUD, and a flash of commands came through without a second of delay.
INFIL-DRONE01a ACTIVE, STATUS: NOMINAL. OBJECTIVE: PRIORITY TRACKING AND RECONNAISSANCE OF SUBJECT A109. MISSION PARAMETERS: TRACK, OBSERVE, MAP, AND RETURN-TO-BASE WITHIN PREDETERMINED PARAMETERS. CONFIRM COMMAND Y/N?
“Command confirmed.” I replied vocally, prompting the newly-printed replacement drone to pop out of its docking bay, before charting a course parallel to that of the apprentice.
The drone’s signal was lost just as the apprentice left the room through that dark threshold behind the lectern, at which point, the entire class began shuffling out to the tune of the encroaching band.
Only time would tell what would come of this mission.
But hopefully, we'll get our answers sometime later this evening.
However, instead of blending right into the crowd, or more specifically… being ignored by said crowd, quite a few eyes managed to find their way onto our group. Moreover, the chatter seemed way too interesting to ignore.
“You were right, Cynthis… perhaps there is something about this mercenary prince after all.” A female voice spoke from an all-girl group, eliciting a series of giggles, which were promptly silenced by a privacy screen the moment Thalmin craned his head around.
“Lord Auris Ping has yet again demonstrated his integrity. Let us ensure his pure-hearted determination is lauded this evening, lads! The fearsome strikers shall band together with the most pious of intent!” A tortle-like-turtle jeered, moving strategically to position themselves around Auris Ping’s group, as the expected schmoozing began in full.
“Newrealmer.” Ilunor began, generating a privacy screen in the process.
“Yes, Ilunor?”
“How long do you expect your insect to take in its dastardly escapades?”
“Last time it took a good few hours. So, given this probably isn’t a one-and-done deal, I’d say… maybe three to four hours at the least this time around?” I offered.
“Well then. Splendid. I shall be off, and return within that time frame.”
“Wait wait wait wait. Hold up. Where do you think you’re going?” I inquired firmly.
“I have my own life to lead, newrealmer. Now please, I shall return to our group’s escapades in due time.”
“Where, Ilunor?” I reiterated.
To which the Vunerian could only sigh in response. “The student lounge. Top floor today, if I am to be interrogated for every ounce of information…”
“Then let’s go. Together.” I proclaimed, garnering a few looks of surprise from both Thacea and Thalmin. “Perhaps it’s time we start getting a feel for the lay of the land. We’ve been cooped up in our own little world for far too long, maybe, just maybe, we should all expand our horizons just by a little bit.”
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(Author’s Note: The much anticipated round two between Thalmin and Auris has concluded! And following its conclusion, we also get quite a few reactions to Thalmin as a result of his daring display of magical prowess! We also get a pretty hands on demonstration of Light Magic this time around! This is perhaps one of the more hands on class, and indeed one of the more straightforward classes so far! Moreover, the end of classes marks not only the beginning of the little spy drone adventure, but also a little peak into exactly what Ilunor has been up to! I hope you guys enjoy! :D The next Two Chapters are already up on Patreon if you guys are interested in getting early access to future chapters!)
[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 81 and Chapter 82 of this story is already out on there!)]

I (F27) work in a veterinary clinic. Lisa (F20s I think) was recently hired and Jackie (F50s) is hearing impaired. She has cochlears but even though she can hear with them, she still needs to read your lips in order to understand you. Jackie is a surgical tech assistant so she's mostly around coworkers who wear masks which is why all of them in that area while not fluent, knows a few sign language. It's not required for everyone to learn sign so other coworkers in different areas, including myself, don't know it.
I assist the surgeons in their exams but I want to work in lab. Lisa was hired to take my spot so I was training her. When I introduced Lisa to Jackie, she immediately used sign. Jackie was impressed and thought Lisa was fluent but no, she started learning when she was hired. Said she saw Jackie and another coworker signing during her tour of the hospital in her interview. I told Jackie she didn't have to and that she'll mostly be around GP than surgery. And also Jackie can understand you without signing. Lisa said that she still wants to learn and consider this a good opportunity.
During her training, she would mostly talk to Jackie in sign. There has been times she messed up so Jackie would show her the right way. But it's when we have to write down the list of surgeries on the board for the next day, is where I thought Lisa was being degrading. Jackie would at times mispronounce some of the pet's names. To be fair, those are usually non-American (we're in the US). I just let Jackie say the name how she wants. But Lisa actually breaks it down to her. Like for example a recent patient we had was named "Dulce". Jackie pronounced it as "Duls". Lisa told Jackie "it's actually pronounced like this" and wrote on the board "Dull-Say" and told Jackie it means sweet in Spanish.
I told Lisa "you're treating Jackie like a child, "it's really patronizing" and Lisa told me "that's how she helped her grandpa to speak English", "Jackie didn't seem offended". I told her "she's just indulging you because you're new so unless you want to work here a long time I suggest you quit it before Jackie decides to report HR to you". A week after Lisa's training is done, I got called into by the manager, Carla (F50s). Apparently Lisa asked Jackie if she was being patronizing and I guess Jackie said no. Jackie reported to Carla about my behavior by preventing Lisa to communicate easily with Jackie. Also brought up a few times where I was wearing a mask but forgot to put it down while I was talking to Jackie.
Thankfully I didn't get a demerit but I did get a strong lecture. I won't see Jackie until Tue so I'm trying to figure out how to approach her. Until then, I need to know if AITA? AITA for telling a new coworker that she's being patronizing to another coworker?

In the eighties, my aunt moved to Berlin from a small town in the Northwest. I went to see her with Mom after Dad had left us.
Mom’s sister lived in a housing block. It was awesome. The apartment was on the 14th floor. The houses I’d set foot into until then had had two stories. At most.
I got along with most of the block kids. Many of them were brown-skinned and black-haired unlike anybody in my school. We were playing soccer with a tennis ball when I had to pee. I said I’d be back. Ayşe said cool but don’t use the elevator to go up.
I asked why not.
Ayşe said a junkie named Martin had overdosed in there and was now haunting it. I said sure and grinned, too proud to admit I had no idea what a junkie was.
Ayşe said if you go for more than a few floors, you smell Martin’s pissed pants at some point. Your turn around then he’ll be standing right behind you. I said it smells of pee in there anyway.
So I went into the house and toward the elevator. I felt Ayşe‘s and the other kids‘ eyes piercing my back from the entrance. If I‘d taken the stairs then, they‘d have made fun of me for the rest of my stay. That was almost a week. As good as eternal torment when you’re seven.
I waved at Ayşe as the elevator door closed. The house wasn’t new and neither was the elevator. The cabin made sounds like a very old person, only as a machine. Two, three, four, five. Everything fine. Six, seven, eight, nine. Sounds got worse. Ten, eleven. The stop was so sudden I stumbled and fell.
I got up and pressed fourteen again and again. Nothing. It got stuck! I switched to the emergency button. Behind me, I heard breathing. I didn’t dare to turn around. I smelled peed pants. Still I pressed the emergency button. Nobody answered.
“Again?“ a voice asked. I screamed and turned around. Martin looked haggard, unwashed and pale. Sunken eyes.
“Leave me alone!“ I cried. “Leave me alone!“ he mocked me. His teeth lay in ruins.
I turned around to push the button again. It had changed colors. The whole inside of the elevator suddenly looked different. I thought I was going insane from fear.
The door opened and there was a girl, a woman …
„Ayşe?“
She spoke into some little thing like it was a phone, told it how after all this time, the elevator was still giving her the creeps. Then she went for the stairs.
“You’re so annoying when you forget,“ Martin said. “It had nothing to do with me, it was this pile of shit plus property management saving too much for too long on maintenance. Down you went, eleven stories. And here we are, you and I. Care for a shot?“
I shook my head, eyes fixed on the stairs.

When I was in junior high a transfer student arrived in the middle of the semester; a kid that was different from everyone else. Right away he had caught my eye, in fact he caught everyone's attention because he had a very unique disability; he couldn’t speak. I guess you could say he was deaf, though it was clear to me after getting to know him that he could in fact hear; every word spoken to him was understood with simple nods or gestures; facial expressions contorting into understood language; so I guess he was mute; yeah, that would describe him best. He was an oddity to most but to me he was a unicorn, something that sparkled in our dim monotonous lives and it wasn’t until he revealed who he was did I become terrified of him and his shine.
I was in 7th grade maneuvering my way through the jungle of middle school, avoiding trouble and premature violence. I was an undersized boy for my age, no more than 5ft tall; puberty had yet to visit me leaving me left out of the herd; the other students or the ‘sheep’ as I called them that infested my school. They were all the same, kids that were driven by hormones constantly talking about boys or girls, their deep voices riding on the coattails of the wind that breezed in and out of our hallways. I was a mere shadow, always walking a few paces behind the others not wanting to be seen or acknowledged; I saw what others that looked like me went through, they were tortured and abused for simply existing.
Once Bryce Ellis and his friends stuck Timmy Easton’s face in the shitter for over 10 flushes, I was in a stall over, hiding and waiting for the torment to be over. I slithered my feet up on to the stall caressing them to my chest as I sat in a fetal position horrified of how one human could treat another. Eventually the bullies had gotten bored, their short attention span driven minds directed them to another endeavor leaving Timmy to fester in his tears and possible filth.
He sobbed for minutes that felt like hours as I remained silent in the stall over, I placed my hand cautiously on the barrier wall trying to absorb a bit of his pain, my heart ached for him in that moment and I wanted to lend him a compassionate hand if only I had the courage to do so. So yeah, I did my best to stay hidden, unseen to all the dwellers that mindlessly walked in and out of our school on a daily basis, the boys that believed themselves to be men or the girls that pontificated to anyone that listened. I was lost into an enteral sea of vindictive young adults that searched for any reason to lash out at anyone that stood in their way.
So when ‘Tape boy’ — as they would eventually call him — came to my little middle school that stood still in the secluded hills of our small town I was enthralled almost immediately with his existence. He was introduced to my home room class, I sat in the back burying my head into my arms, occasionally lifting my head to listen on the days lecture. My day dreams entertaining me as the clock slowly ticked away at our lives and it wasn’t until my teacher promptly stopped talking did it trigger a primal emotion in me to sit up and pay attention. I postured myself up straight, pausing the internal movie that played in my mind to see what the interruption was about.
There he was, a new boy that no one had ever seen before, by middle school everyone knew each other; we had went to the same elementary school, the same holiday events and grocery stores. So getting a new student was like getting a new flavor at Baskin Robbins; a mystery taste simmering on the tip of your tongue as you digested every drop, his presence was intriguing. He wasn’t small like me, I would say average height for a 12 year old; about 5'4, slender body with unkempt dark black hair. He looked timid, his head tilted towards the ground not wanting to accidentally lock eyes with any of us as the teacher introduced him, my mind wandering with such intrigue because to all of our astonishment he was wearing a surgical face mask — mind you this was in the 90’s; eons before the Covid pandemic breached the windows of our thoughts.
Right away I could hear the murmurs, the questions erupting throughout the classroom as everyone pondered of why this boy sheltered his face. I stared on for what must of been minutes as the shy boy kept his gaze down, I could see him slightly squeezing the arm straps to his backpack nervously the longer he stood there on full display for all.
I had my fill and I relaxed my postured sinking back into my chair directing my stare out the window but then Billy Sherman asked the question we all had on our minds,
“Uhm, why is he wearing that mask?”.
Our teacher explained to us that it was because of some weaken immune system, something about how his ticker didn’t click like the rest of ours, she then also told us about him being mute. This drew my eyes right back to him, I think it did for all of us and for a moment the quiet kid raised his head and locked eyes with me. His dark black eyes glistened with despair, the deep purple bags that sagged under his eyes were more indicative of someone that hadn’t slept in days. I felt something for him in that moment, our third eye conversing in some cosmic dialogue and as quickly as he rose his head did it drop once again towards the ground. I could still hear all the the other kids snickering, questioning and some even giggling; it made me sick, if I was a braver boy I would of stood on top of my desk and verbally lashed out to all the sheep, instead I rose my hand asking something Mrs. Willis never said, what was the timid boys name?
“Oh I’m sorry, how rude of me, this is Gabriel”.
She sat Gabriel upfront next to her desk, wanting him close in case he needed to write or sign something to her and just like that everyone went back to their simple lives; including myself.
The next few weeks I saw little of Gabriel other than the back of his head during class, once the bell rang everyone that my eyes glimpsed at for the day disappeared or just maybe it was me who dissolved into the ambience of our school. Either way I saw little of the boy who wore a mask, the one that sheltered his true identity and my curiosity with the new flavor of the week gradually faded into the abyss of non-existence; well, that was until the day I saw the mask slip.
It was end of the day, I spent most of the time turning corners anytime Bryce Ellis approached; evading the wrath of him and his band of merry men who were the pinnacle of human torture; finding any opportunity to demean those who crossed their path. I remember leaving Chemistry class, my mind all to occupied with leaving the hell hole of every kids dread and that’s when I saw Gabriel walking down the hall towards the cafeteria; his head still tilted down; his gaze tracking every step he took; face mask still tightly fitted around his face.
This time I saw someone was following him, it was Tom Ingram one of Bryce’s guys, a kid that tried to be the “alpha male” of the group numerous times, doing his best to dethrone the reign of Bryce. He was a big boy for his age, probably about 5'9 and easily weighed 200 pounds, he was a wild card alright; he got caught pouring sugar down Mr. Whitakers old Pontiac gas tank for giving him a poor grade. So when I saw him berating poor Gabriel; taunting him as grotesque laughter followed every insult, I felt like I had to do something and my consistent stealth veneer of camouflage morphed into into a full on sprint towards the two. I saw Tom was closing in on him, other kids looking on with bewilderment on their faces — not knowing if they should laugh out of fear or grimace from disgust. For the first time in a long while did a burning sensation of courage ignite in my soul, I was tired of seeing monsters preying on the sheep and I was going to stop it somehow.
Finally Gabriel had stopped walking and stood still, his head hanging even lower than before, the strands of his long hair covered the remainder of his face. Tom began slapping the top side of the poor kids head, yelling out obscenities, angered that he didn’t stop sooner. I was close, I was gonna stop this since all anyone else could do is cower in fear while looking on and then it happened causing me to stop dead in my tracks, my eyes widening with befuddlement. Tom had torn away the mask from Gabriel's face, awes with groans came from everyone then silence blanketed the entire school and for those few seconds our existence had been swallowed up by the earth itself.
“What the hell” Tom yelped out breaking the still but heavy disquietude.
I wanted to say something, but no words could be manifested only gurgles as I choked on my own disbelief. The timid boy under the mask of intrigue had a strip of black duct tape covering his mouth, it stretching from the side of his face to the other almost resembling what would be some hideous smile. The timid boy then collapsed his hands over his face as faint muffles of sobbing protruded from him, he ran into the nearest restroom only for Tom to pursue. Finally my thoughts had been gathered while my body came back to life, I brushed off the bizarre occurrence of that grizzly smile and I reminded myself of what was about to happen. Tom was going to punish Gabriel for simply existing as he and his gang have been doing for years and like some old factory machine the cogs of my body set into motion as I ran towards the restroom.
Before I could open the door the most horrid scream exploded outwards into the hallway, the sound sending a cold shiver down my spine and Tom came running out of the restroom gripping at his face crying. He was hysterical running and bumping into the walls until finally crumbling onto the floor only to continue sobbing. My mind was clouded with a whirl wind of confusion, I no longer knew what to do, I mean I was going to run in there and stop the assault but now the assaulter was on the floor destroyed. Then Gabriel calmly came out of the restroom, his mask firmly back on and he turned to look at me, his dark eyes burning an image of anguish into my mind. I asked if he was okay of course he said nothing though, he didn’t need to I could just sense his response and it was one of gratitude. I almost could see him smiling at me from underneath the mask and I reminded myself of what was under it; that abysmal duct tape that looked like a sinister grin.
From that day on most of the kids were afraid of Gabriel, I could see the look of terror in their eyes anytime he passed by them even though his headed was still shifted downwards but that’s the day whenever someone mentioned him they referred to him as “Tape boy”. I had heard through the whispers of our school that Tom had suffered some mental breakdown, that the doctors couldn’t find anything psychically wrong with him, it was as if his mind had shattered. He remained in some mental hospital, memories of him gradually fading and the sheep went on with living their mundane lives. Bryce even slowed his bullying, I think he knew that their were now more eyes watching everyone after the altercation and he didn’t want to get caught in some bad situation, though I could see he was itching to get at Gabriel. I went back to being a shadow, avoiding all the others still not too confident that the days of torture were over.
Even though Gabriel was regarded as some magical or perhaps malevolent being by most; not sure which one; he still appeared to be sad; lonely, his head always dragging with despondency. I made an effort in getting to know him, I wasn’t afraid like the rest of them something about the day we locked eyes gave me the resolve to understand he wouldn’t hurt me. I approached him during lunch break, he was outside sitting underneath a tree, the shade showering him a gloom of haze. I think I surprised him or maybe it was just my stealth nature but I saw him jump when I sat next to him. I began talking about the origins of Darth Vader, of how he was originally a hero using his force power for good only to eventually turn to the dark side.
Gabriel just looked at me confounded of why I was even talking to him, his stare looking on with indifference. I told him that he was like a super hero, doing whatever he did to Tom was just like a super power, that I was thankful. His gazed then returned back to the floor almost out of shame, I guess whatever he did that day he didn’t see it as something special, or something to praise. I then told him that I still envied his ability to defend himself, that having such an ability was better than winning the school lottery — which was a week supply of free cafeteria food. I kept blabbering on for the remainder of the break while he still postured his stare towards the floor until the bell had finally rung. Before getting up I told him that if I could have a super power mine would be invisibility that’s when he turned to me pulling out a small spiral from his back pack writing something down, he then showed me.
“Why?” it read.
I told him that I didn’t like being seen, that if I could I would melt away into the noise, then life would be better he just stared at me with what I could assume was disbelief. He didn’t write anything back, he just remain seated while I stood to my feet. I asked if he was coming back to class but he ignored me and just stared out into space presumably lost in his own thoughts.
For the next several months I would catch Gabriel in the hallways, talk to him about the latest edition of whatever comic I was reading, Superman being my favorite and I would go on and on about how his true super power wasn’t strength but hope. I think he became more comfortable with me, pulling out his spiral notebook to write down his thoughts; his questions and answers — a new gateway of communication had formed between us. Most times I could tell what he was going to write by looking at his eyes, those dark haunting eyes, he was a mysterious book slowly being revealed to me and I was completely beguiled by his friendship. Bryce and his little posse slowly went back to bullying the sheep, though they kept their distance from Gabriel and me.
I guess I had a new protector one that wouldn’t be crossed and something about that protection left me feeling proud. I knew in my heart that the timid kid that now went by “Tape boy” wouldn’t hurt a fly that maybe the day of Tom going crazy was all by chance, perhaps his rage snapped his mind. I tried asking him about that day numerous times but he never explained what happened he would redirect the conversation back to super hero’s. I would walk home with him on certain days, well, more like he would walk me home I never got to see where he lived, he was too reserved to give up that kind of information but the days we would walk together was always fun. I finally felt like I belonged, the longing emotion of needing acceptance was found by his friendship.
One day when I was walking home by myself I decided to stop in at the gas station to pick up a drink and scour the latest edition of comic books in the small rack of magazines. Before entering the store I could hear arguing voices engaging in combative dialogue and it became vividly clear that it was more of a yelling match than conversation. It was coming from the side of the building, most times I would just ignore it but one of the voices sounded all too familiar and I crept slowly to the edge of the building poking my head out to get a glimpse of the disturbance. It was Bryce, his back was up against the wall while someone who I presumed was his father berated him with such a vicious snarl on his face. The angry man kept slapping Bryce across the face anytime he tried to say something and soon tears began drizzling off the face of the mighty bully only for the man to laugh.
I didn’t know why the older man was treating Bryce the way he was, information cut out of my understanding, for all I know it could of been because of something the bully did at school. I found it to be poetic justice that the boy that caused so much heart ache suffered the same amount only at home. It felt like a cliche, the angry kid was angry because of the angry father; a cruel loop of never ending proportions. Eventually the man or father walked away getting back into his car leaving the bully to brush away the tears from his face. I cautiously retreated my head away deciding to ditch the store completely when that same broken voice only minutes ago shouted out to me with a hefty dominance.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Bryce howled out.
I didn’t bother turning around, I just ran home, dodging into alley ways trying my best to not been seen. It didn’t appear as if he was following, but seeing him in such a vulnerable state was bemusing. We were a small town how could I not know who the man was, we all knew each other since we were small and then it hit me; Bryce’s dad had left when he was little. This man must of been his step dad or perhaps mom’s boyfriend, it didn’t matter I was going to mind my own business, I was going to slither back into the shadows; but my attempts would only fall on defeated shoulders.
I didn’t want to tell anyone of what I saw, I hoped that keeping my mouth shut would of been enough for the bully to leave me be. Unfortunately there is no reasoning when it comes to human beings, we base our actions on emotions, our anger and Bryce confronted me the next morning in front of Gabriel.
“Hey fairy, did you enjoy the show?” the angry kid spouted out at me.
I tried explaining to him that I wasn’t trying to intrude, that the arguing concerned me, that I didn’t like seeing him being mistreated and then he punched me right in the gut. I fell to the floor gripping at my stomach, the pain slicing through every fiber of my body. I tried catching my breath but inhaling was too painful and I sheltered my face expecting another punch but the bully walked off leaving me to sweat. Gabriel kneel down to me taking out his spiral notebook writing the obvious question, I gestured to him to give me a moment and I honestly felt like crying. I had spent years doing my best to blend into the background, the invisibility power I was so desperate to have amongst the sheep was now gone; I was on Bryce’s radar.
For the remainder of the school year I tried avoiding the bullies, the monsters that preyed on the sheep but their leader would actively search for me, he was no longer intimidated by Gabriel; his once menacing allure had dwindled and now we both were sitting ducks. Luckily there was only a few weeks left until summer break and I only had hoped that the time off would be enough for the monster of monsters to cool off.
Entering summer was a relief much needed for my sanity, I took a few thrashings but it was over, me and Gabriel had big plans on spending time together. He wasn’t an out door kind of kid, he usually would just come over my place and we would read my comic books. He quickly grew enchanted with the idea of super hero's, their powers restoring balance to the nature of our world. I enjoyed every minute of it, my parents on the other hand looked less jovial to our friendship, they didn’t like the mask; it worried them. They thought that whatever illness he had could be passed on to me, but they didn’t do anything to stop us from seeing each other, they only silently protested.
So after awhile we decided to meet somewhere outdoors, away from my parents judgmental stares, there was a creek close to my house, the trees giving us enough shade to stay cool on those long summer days. The small stream that flowed through the trenches of the creek enriched our view as we would find the perfect rock to perch on while reading our comics. We didn’t see much of any of the other classmates that summer, the sheep kept their distance or maybe it was just us, but the days seem to pass quickly and before we knew it summer was coming to an end. I couldn’t remember how many volumes we must of read but Gabriel was now a fan of almost every super hero. He tend to raise out his arms while walking, mimicking the premise of flying like Superman; his ponderous eyes cutting through the brush as we escaped our secluded summer spot.
It was on the final day of our summer break did I pressure the shy timid boy to explain to me what had happen that day, the day Tom lost his marbles, I needed to know. Gabriel as always tried redirecting the conversation, holding up a comic of Batman, pointing at some dialogue. I got upset, I raised my voice telling him that if we were friends then he should tell me, that there wasn’t secrets between us. His heavy eyes collapsing to the ground, shifting his posture on the rock that we both sat on.
“Look, I just need to know, you’re my best friend” I told him with genuine longing.
The school year was about to start up again and I could already envision a future of slithering through the hallways how I have always done, but with Gabriel maybe that could change. I needed to know and I was done guessing, fantasizing that he was some super hero or at least my hero; my protector. I stood up off the rock walking over to the stream, the sound of water colliding unto the small stones that infested the trench triggered something awful in my gut. I took a deep breath and made my final stand with my best friend.
“If you don’t want to tell me then I’m going home, see ya” I said with impatience dripping off of my words.
Gabriel ignored my warning and continued pointing at the comic book, that’s when I noticed what he was pointing at, it wasn’t dialogue it was one of Batman's villains — he was pointing at Clayface. This made me stop, my minding halting after speeding at 100 miles per hour; it crashing my thoughts.
“Yeah, what about Clayface?” I curiously asked with a withered and tired voice.
That’s when his pointer finger was no longer on the page but rather it was pointed towards his mouth; the mouth that was hidden behind his mask. He could see my face drop with sadness, whatever disfigurement he had underneath that horrid black duct tape must of been something like the villain from the comic and my heart broke for him. Gabriel’s eyes gleaming with absolute sorrow, the boy that only wanted to be left alone, the person all the others feared just wanted solitude and here I was badgering him to no end about something so insignificant. We stared at each other for several seconds, our eyes meeting in some altered state and I reached my hand up to his face tenderly taking off his mask. There it was, the black duct tape that resembled a grin, a nightmarish one that could only been seen in some horror movie. I then placed my fingers on the edge of the tape, my cold grip causing him to shiver and I slowly began to remove it.
“What the hell are you fairy’s doing?” a voice called out from the brush, one that sank my heart into my stomach.
I turned trying to locate the voice and sure enough there he was, the bully that had tortured so many for so many years — it was Bryce. His body slowly revealing itself from the brush like some despicable ooze frothing from the depths of hell. Though, something about him was different, his cold stare no longer fictitious but more intimidating and as his body fully emerged did I see the blood trickling down his soaked stain shirt. He was covered in the crimson fluid, there was even some on his cheeks almost as he had some open wound and smeared the remnants of it on his face. The devilish grin that bestowed his bruised and beaten face quickly led me to a conclusion; one that I wish I didn’t conclude. A purplish black infested the out layer of his left eye, it practically closed shut and his nose had been bent to a unsightly angle. I started to whimper as my lips trembled from fright because this Bryce was not the same one that had given us wedgies or swirlies this one was a true monster, a beast that devoured souls. His gaze was enough to display a vacancy of any humanity and my eyes crawled down his arm into his hand to see the black pistol that he firmly gripped.
“Uh, Bryce what happened? Are you okay?” I groaned out while sniffling.
He didn’t answer, he just kept grinning at me, the ghastly smile that stretched ear from ear plagued my vision and I knew that he had done it, that he had hurt someone badly. I was terrified and in the moment I had completely forgotten about Gabriel, my tunnel vision only focused on that firearm.
“Where the hell did the other one go?” the monster asked, I turned and realized Gabriel in fact had run away leaving me behind.
I wanted to run, I wanted to flee while screaming but horror kept me in place and I felt like some dear trapped in headlights contemplating my entire life in mere seconds.
“Everyone always messes with me!” Bryce yelled out with such ferociousness.
There was no talking my way out of this one, no pleading, I knew in that moment he was going to kill me; his rage over flowing to the point of lunacy. He quickly pounced dropping me to the floor, screaming with madness and he repeatedly hit me over the head with the but of the gun causing me to see stars. His words became incoherent sounding like muffled tones that slushed it’s way into my hearing, I shook my head trying to collect myself, just maybe I could figure a way out of this but as soon as my vision corrected itself Bryce would strike me another time causing it to blur once again. I fell into a darkness, my world collapsing into an eternal void of loneliness as my body began to float effortlessly but as soon as I thought this was my final moments flashes of Gabriel flooded into my mind awakening me out of whatever slumber I found myself in. That’s when I realized Bryce was no longer hitting me, instead he was talking to someone and as I grabbed at my head trying to steady my balance I saw it was Gabriel standing still head as always tilted downwards.
Bryce confronted him pointing his 9mm directly at his head yelling, screaming at the top of his lungs but my best friend remained unmoved, just quiet and then he slowly removed his mask. This caused Bryce to pause, his tone weaken and I think for the first time he digested if he should proceed doing what he was doing.
“What are you doing freak?” the bully yelped out.
Gabriel remained quiet, eyes still directed towards the floor, his breathing escalating; I could see his chest pump more vigorously with each passing second. With the mask off me and Bryce could see the bewildering black duct tape strapped to his face, Gabriel’s face began to tremble violently as if he was trying to yell through the bondage. He then finally began to peel of the thick layer of black duct tape and it came off with a wicked screech as I could see my friends eyes squint with pain.
Bryce was no longer pointing the gun at Gabriel, no longer was he even saying a word his arm lowered to his side and both him and I stared on with amazement. What was under the tape was layers of skin, twisting and binding to each other like some thriving organism living it’s own life on Gabriel's face. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t say anything I was in shock and my head still throb from pain. Then Gabriel's mouth — if you want to call it that — began to stretch open, he tilted his head backwards while the mountain of dead flesh started to drip down his face allowing some endless void to open up inside of him. I could hear the cracking of bones breaking, his jaw shifting to accommodate the massive hole that was now his mouth and then horrid dwindling fingers began to protrude from the darkness.
My mouth gaped open with trepidation and if I had the ability to adjust my head I would think Bryce had the same facial expression. Then a grotesque head forced it’s way out of my friends mouth revealing a face that could only exist in the realms of the dead, this new creature having two large almond shape eyes; eyes that looked very similar to the ones that were attached to my friend. This ‘thing’ then stared at Bryce, that’s all it did, no words were spoken no violence was created it just stared at him and soon the bully grasped at his face and began to yell. He ran frantically in different directions, his gun firing out into the tree line, I jumped for cover; falling to the floor sheltering my head with my arms. Bryce’s terrified screams caused my stomach to turn and soon those dire cries stopped along with the gunshots.
I must of stayed on the floor for what felt like hours, too scared to rise to my feet and through my peripheral did I see the sun begin to set plunging the small creak into darkness. I eventually mustered up enough courage to get up and I looked around, Bryce was mere feet away from me, he lay still on the floor blood spewing out of his head; it appeared as if had shot himself. I walked over to his body befuddled of what to do I then remembered Gabriel, I turned to look for him but he was gone it was only me and Bryce's dead corpse. I ran home telling my parents about everything, of the encounter I experienced, at first it seemed as if they didn’t believe me but they still phoned for the police.
I led them to the creek to the bullies dead body, I initially thought perhaps they would blame me, connect me to his death but the police believed me; well the believed me about Bryce but not about Gabriel. They told me that Bryce had killed his step father, apparently they had gotten into some altercation and afterwards he went into his mothers bedroom and shot her to death. They told me that the once bully was a disturbed individual, suffering abuse for many years; that I was lucky to escape from his wrath. I told them that they needed to find my friend I wanted to know if he was okay, but all the officers could do was pat my back with sympathy trying to relax me.
It has almost been 30 years since the event, I still have nightmares of what had happened, I see the dead stare Bryce had while pointing his pistol at me, I see him repeatedly hitting me over the head again and again. Though, what still haunts me more is Gabriel's mouth contorting into that horrid shape revealing the creature that lived inside of him. He was never found, I’m pretty sure he moved on to another city, another place where bullies like Bryce tormented their schools and I could only imagine Gabriel was there to balance the wrongs of the world. I am scared of my best friend, but I know at the same time he is my protector; my super hero, he is out there doing good, I can feel it and I hope he can sense my love for him. Maybe we will never meet again, perhaps it’s not written in the stars for us to reunite but one thing is for sure, I get comic books mailed to me randomly every month; most are of Superman and I know exactly who they are from.

TW for sexual, physical, medical, emotional, and religious abuse, childhood sa, suicidal ideation, and self harm
This past week has been incredibly difficult due to that holiday so I decided it would be good for me to write a letter to my nmom to keep for myself during my healing process to get everything out and it's been very cathartic. Part of my healing journey has been sharing my (extremely personal) experience with others who understand, hence why I'm sharing this here, and maybe it'll give someone some strength knowing that I made it out after all of this. I hope everyone was kind to themselves this week and was able to treat this holiday as a holiday for themselves for surviving their nmoms!
Dear mom, Happy belated Mother’s Day. My Mother’s Day was spent being upset and anxious so I decided to write this letter. This letter is so incredibly difficult to write and even more difficult to read back to myself. Moving away from university and back home during COVID was genuinely one of the most difficult things I have done in my life simply because of all of the repressed memories that flooded back into my brain every single day I was in that house. I used to resent the pandemic for forcing me to live in an environment that made me want to harm myself every single day and die every other day, but I am now thankful for the clarity that it brought me as I don’t think I’d have the foresight that I have now.
There is a lot that I want to say. I am angry, bitter, resentful, and traumatized from things that you have done to me as a child and also as an adult. I thought for a very long time that thing were normal but thank God I now know just how truly fucked up so many of my childhood experiences were. Not a single day goes by where I don’t think about the emotional, physical, and sexual abuse that I went through. I am haunted every single day by things that you did (and some things that you didn’t do) and hope that one day I will be able to heal from what I experienced.
I grew up being close to my cousin Chloe (a year younger than me) who was obviously very bitchy, mean, and abusive. This fact isn’t something you weren’t aware of as I know a fully grown adult would be able to see how she treated and talked to me when around you and come to the obvious conclusion that I should not have been allowed to be around her. She bullied me, called me names, physically assaulted me by pushing me, pulling my hair, and sitting on me with my hands held behind my back until I couldn’t breathe, forced me to bathe in scolding hot bath water that would burn my skin, making me undress and make fun of parts of my body, and forced me to watch things that she knew would scare me. This is the same time that I started having insomnia and struggled in school due to anxiety. It’s also the same time I remember my sound sensitivity starting. Do you remember my childhood friend’s mom Amelia and how protective she was over my friend, Diana? Diana met Chloe at my 9th birthday party and Diana went over to her house for a playdate and Chloe did something to her. She physically reached over and groped Diana on the privates. I knew Amelia IMMEDIATELY prevented her daughter from ever being around Chloe again. I also knew that it's possible she mentioned this to my aunt, but I'm not positive. I know that Amelia is the type of mom to prevent Diana from reading Harry Potter because she thought it was a bad influence on her due to being “demonic”, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she made you aware of what Chloe did to Diana as she knew that I spent a lot of time around her. I doubt that what Chloe did to Diana was ever kept a secret from you. Chloe also forced me to do sexual things I didn’t want to do from roughly the ages of 8-11. One time, we were in her kitchen and she pulled out a knife and said that she was going to stab me. By then, I knew she just wanted to scare me so when I had no reaction, she put the knife away. I was terrified of what would happen if I said no to her so I went along with whatever she wanted. She would go into the bathroom and tell me to follow, would lock the door, and make me take off my clothes and let her do things to me and forced me to do the same things to her. I used to think that you had NO IDEA about this until I remember you saying the words- “you were an amazing kid and never had any problems until you got a little older. I always wondered if something happened.” Who the fuck says that to their kid???? Yeah, something DID happen and it wouldn’t have happened if you protected me!!!! You fucking idiot!!!! I remember being in our new house and taking a shower with you when I was about 8 (which was VERY inappropriate and should NEVER have happened at all) and saying something that clearly made you uncomfortable. It CLEARLY indicated something was going on. I remember the exact face you made and know that any normal, healthy adult would have done something about it and made sure nothing was happening. They would have made sure I was SAFE, and talked to me about safety, but nothing was said or done. You have failed me many times, but this one is the most painful. Not only will you need to live with the fact that you knew about my abuse and did nothing, but I will have to live with the fact that my mom knew "something happened” and didn’t care about me enough to protect me. I look at my beautiful niece Hallie, and imagine not protecting her like that and want to vomit. I cannot fathom how a mother would have the thought “I wonder if something happened to my daughter to case a massive behavioral change” and NOT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT! You didn’t talk to me, never asked me if Chloe was doing anything, or anything at all. If I even had a minor suspicion that something was happening to Hallie, I would IMMEDIATELY do something about it because THAT IS MY JOB as an adult in her life. You failed me and deserve to know that this traumatized me and gave me PTSD. I am NOT autistic, no matter how much you WANT me to be so you can go around and gain sympathy for “having an autistic daughter” rather than owning up to the fact that you caused what “went wrong” with me.
Not only did you not help prevent me from being molested by my cousin, you also added to my sexual trauma by forcing me to use the giant egg monistat insert to treat a yeast infection when I was 11. I was ELEVEN and you had a bright idea to force a HUGE foreign object into my prepubescent body even though you were fully aware I could have easily gotten a prescription for a pill to swallow from a doctor. I was scared. I had so much pain and itching and needed a mother to hug me, tell me it’s going to be okay, or at the very least, EXPLAIN what I had and how we were going to fix it. You didn’t do any of that. You told me to lay down and proceeded to try and administer medication that is NOT meant for children 12 and under due to the physical damage it could cause. I was clearly in pain and scared, but you kept trying anyways. At any point, you could have stopped and taken me to the fucking doctor, but nope. You then got frustrated that “you couldn’t get it in” and told your 11 year old daughter to shove it inside herself. Then you left the room. I hadn’t even had a period yet, let alone know where my vagina was but you sure felt the need to yet again abandon your parental responsibilities and place them onto your kid! Miraculously, I put it in and wobbled out to lay on the couch because I was in physical pain from BOTH the infection and YOU, but because a child’s body isn’t able to properly fully insert the medication used (which once again I’ll remind you is meant for girls 13 and up), it came out and got on the couch because you didn’t give me a pad. And rather than prioritize your own daughter’s health, safety, wellbeing, and comfort, you were more upset about the stain on the couch and yelled at me. I will never forget in all of the years that I am alive how ashamed and disgusted I felt standing behind you watching you furiously scrub at the stain that I caused (actually, that YOU caused since this never should have happened in the first place!) and feeling a huge flood of guilt every time I saw that couch stain. One of the best days of my life was when we got a new couch and I never had to see that stain again.
All of this caused me to develop anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts and ideation, self harming behaviors, having out of body experiences where I dissociate, and panic attacks amongst other things. YOU caused ALL of this and you fought tooth and nail to convince me that it was MY fault for being broken. “There’s something going on with you,” and you made it your mission to never take any responsibility for any of the trauma that you caused. Not only did you ignore all signs of abuse and sexually assault me yourself, you bullied and helped a family friend Sharon bully me when I was “being mean” to (her daughter) Faith. I was treated like I was a mentally ill monster who couldn’t be trusted and always got in trouble whenever Faith shed a single tear because I was “mean to her”. Faith cried at LEAST 15x a day, and I was blamed every time she decided to say I was the reason. You allowed a monster (Sharon) to ABUSE me and had the incredibly wise idea to start passing along what shit talking you two would say about me TO ME, a 13 year old girl. I was THIRTEEN. I was A CHILD. And yet, you came crying and complaining to me about how tired you were of hearing Sharon say I was being mean to her daughter when you could have TOLD THE OTHER ADULT IN THE SITUATION TO STOP. It never was my responsibility as a child to try and make another adult stop abusing me by “behaving better.” There was nothing wrong with how I was behaving. You never once tried to help me, you always blamed anybody and everybody else for your failures. I would come and ask you for help when I was struggling and if you didn’t care, you would pawn it off to somebody else- “go talk to your older sister” “talk to your therapist about that” “I don’t know what to say except to tell you to pray about it” and when I came back saying praying didn’t magically fix my depression, you told me to pray harder. I guess you really thought it was a skill issue rather than a diagnosable health condition! No wonder I wanted to die! Hahaha! I’ll never forget the look of disgust on your face when I was sobbing hysterically and struggling to get out the words when I told you just how badly I was affected by Sharon and said how you played a role in helping her harm and abuse me. “WELL. I’m SORRY if you think I didn’t protect you enough. I know what that feels like because my parent’s took my sister’s side a few weeks ago when we were having an argument” (as FULLY GROWN 50+ YEAR OLDS arguing and bitching LIKE CHILDREN!) No, mom, it’s not the same. I was a child and not only did you not stop an abuser from harming me, you joined in. You allowed her access to me and you passed along what horrible things she said was wrong with me. “SHARON said she thinks YOU’RE BIPOLAR. Do you think you are?” “Sharon told me that you’re having AN EPISODE and are being mean to Faith! Show me your phone!” Erm? I’m thirteen? What do you expect me to do? “Well, I just don’t understand why you keep bringing this up when it happened so long ago. I just hope you can forgive her and move on.” You’re fucking disgusting. Should I go into detail about how many times I asked you to not interact with Sharon more than you needed to and you proceeded to try and force her into my life more? You KNEW how uncomfortable I was with you attending Faith’s wedding and yet, you cared more about how you looked and not only attended, but hosted both her wedding and wedding shower. I have always wondered why you never cared how I feel until I realized that you prioritize yourself and how you look to other people above anything and everyone. There is a clear pattern of behavior- - When I was 17 and you were berating me at your work for wanting to visit my friend up in Boston to see a concert together because “you just didn’t understand why I’d want to do that” and I started crying. You rolled your eyes and said “you better leave now if you don’t want my next client to see you crying because her appointment is in a few minutes.” You cared more about having your random client seeing me cry and potentially thinking you’re a bad mom than comforting me. - When I was 13 and we were saying our nightly prayer the night that I had my “therapy appointment” (aka, you and my “therapist” chastising me for writing in my diary that I was having suicidal thoughts), when you were praying you said “Dear God, please help (my name)… and… pLEASE HELP ME!!!!” Clearly, YOU were affected more than I was even though I was the one wanting to die because of you. Wow. Your life is so hard! - Telling everyone around you that I “have problems” and am “really struggling” so you can gain an ounce of sympathy. The way that your friends come up and talk to me is baffling. - Laughing about me with my friends in high school when I was out of the room- “hahaha my daughter is sooooo weird hahaha” - When I was 18 and you called my “therapist” (who did NOT get my consent before doing this and violated her ethical guidelines) after I moved out and stopped talking to you, you got her to help you write a list of “rules” to force me to stay in contact with you. They consisted of requiring me to “talk to you, dad, or my sister at least 1x/day” so you “knew that I was safe” aka, you wanted to control me even though I was an adult and not living in your house. I was perfectly safe, and yet you made me sound like I was doing drug deals in the morning, prostituting myself after lunch, and had plans to commit felonies later that night. I went to school, ate, and went back to my apartment. You had no right manipulating me into talking to you by using my therapist, dad, and sister against me. Pathetic. - Telling me to go do my runs on a strange man’s property instead of the road because it’s “safer.” Dad said that this man who I’VE NEVER MET told him that “there are bad people out there who will kidnap her and do horrible things to her, SO INSTEAD she should run on MY property!” Not sketchy or rapey at all, right? And completely dismissing me when I said that made me uncomfortable by saying “my dad knows him”? Lady, do you know any rape statistics? Clearly not, because you’d then know that only 7% of assaults are strangers while 93% are family members or acquaintances. NINETY THREE PERCENT. The amount of times that I’ve mentioned someone made me uncomfortable or had a massive affect on me as a child and you’ve replied with “Oh, well did they touch you?” People don’t have to touch me to traumatize me. You’re pathetic for thinking that.
I’m not mad at Chloe. I don’t feel any anger or ill will towards her at all. She was a child just like I was a child. She was failed more than I was failed. No child acts that way and assaults other children without learning that from somewhere. I blame her parents for what happened to her. I blame YOU for what happened to me. I vividly remember things that my aunt would say the same time this was happening about little girls and their bodies and I want to smash my head against the wall. Children are to be protected above anything and everything else, by you didn’t. Do I hate Faith and think that she’s a bad person because of what happened when we were 13? No. I fully blame you and Sharon. The amount of adults that have failed me in my life keep me up at night. I think about how different my life would be had dad been more involved and seen what was going on and taken me away from you. I am angry with him for that. I dream one day I will be able to sit down with him and tell him everything I have written about and he will hug me, support me, cry with me, and apologize for not being there more to protect me. But who knows, he might defend his child abusing, mentally ill wife and say I’m making up everything. Who knows.
Do you want to know what my sister said when I told her all of this? She apologized to me for not being 15 years older than I am so she could have raised me instead. I want you to sit here and think about how fucked up that is. My own sister wishes she could have taken me away from you so you couldn’t have abused me. I imagine the pressure she must have felt having to grow up while also raising her mother and sister and I sob for her. I’ve sobbed for me for the mental anguish and torture I experienced at your hands. I’ve even sobbed for you because I can’t imagine being even a fraction of how fucked up you are to resort to abusing and neglecting your child- a child you begged to have. A child you had trouble having and prayed for. Embarrassing.
I’m never going to have a relationship with you again. If God is willing, I will never have to interact with you ever again. Saying that phrase “if God is willing” is ironic because you forcing me to pray my problems away rather than helping me led me to not believe in him. How can I believe in something that also neglected me? I’d sit in my dark bedroom night after night praying and sobbing for him to help me. I didn’t know what was happening to me, but I felt broken and alone. I now know that I was a child praying for God to take away my PTSD, and that is not possible. My heart breaks for that child.
You’re a pathetic excuse for a mother and human being. I’m truly shocked that I survived you and your abuse. I’m surprised that I didn’t ever try to kill myself to try and get away from you because you’re a vulture that prays on innocent people. The only important people in your life are people you think will give you something or will make you look good. That’s why you refused to ever cut ties with Sharon, you knew she was sexually abused as a child and you couldn’t POSSIBLY NOT be her friend because you need her to be your “friend,” or rather, your token sexually abused as a child friend. I genuinely hope that you get better and become a normal healthy person but I won’t ever be around to see it. I hope you feel even a fraction of the pain and abandonment that I have felt my entire life. Happy Mother’s Day, but today isn’t Mother’s Day for me, it’s Daughter’s Day. Moving far away from you one month ago has truly saved my life. Instead of trying to survive, I am enjoying my life. I would have died in that house. I get to finally celebrate being away from you and celebrate myself for staying strong and fighting when I could have easily given up. You once told me “you feel like I HATE you!” to guilt me into fawning over you and telling you how much I loved you, but now you get the opposite. I DO hate you and hate how you have permanently changed me and I wish to never see you again. Instead of praying for the “God forsaken, atheist, lost, evil, liar, miserable, spiteful, hateful, disgusting, mentally ill, “autistic” daughter, pray for yourself. Pray for God’s forgiveness for emotionally, medically, physically, sexually, and religiously abusing and neglecting me. You deserve to remain in your "clueless" state of "having NO IDEA what you did wrong to make her stop talking to me!" for the rest of your life.Happy Daughter’s Day.

About

The goblins from the Village of Gob are waking up clean every morning, and this has directly impacted the local market for the worst and a great danger emerges from the woods putting pressure to fix Gob's mystery. However, this is only the beginning of a 3 session adventure that uncovers a tragic conspiracy.

What You Get For Playtesting

• Your name will be added to the list of playtesters in the credits page on the final version of the book.
• A copy of the playtest material used to keep
• A PDF of the adventure run for the playtest after the last session

Playtest Content

We will be playtesting three ancestries that were made for the Pratalia setting. The goal with this playtest is to see how the ancestries function mechanically in-game and get feedback on the lore and roleplay for them.
🐸 Roog

Frogs that can jump very far, mastered the art of calming one's mind, and have a weakness to psychic energies and emotional disturbances

🦋 Orphaned

Celestial moth-like beings that master the fine arts and have a very naïve and curious demeanor

🐱‍🚀Noblins

Hairless Cat like beings that like to live life to the max, live chaotically, and have a penchant to overdo it "just a tad"

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Game Details

• Players: 4-6
• Played Using: Foundry, Discord Voice Channels
• Adventure Length: 2-3 hour sessions, 3 total sessions, same time weekly
• Cost To Play & Ways To Save $
  • Cost: $12 per session ($36 total)
  • Early Bird: First 2 players that sign-up for any group get Half-Off the first session
  • Bring A Friend: Sign-up with up friends and you and your friends reduce the price per session by $3 (Saves $9) (This does stack with Early Bird)
  • Free $10 Towards Your First Game: If you never made an account on StartPlayingGames, you can use this referral link to get a free $10 that you can immediately use towards these games
    • https://startplaying.games/referral/cl710ephv7978109iegq1bdu4m

GROUP TIMES AND SPG LINKS

There are 6 groups that people can join to play. Below is when the first session starts for each group. Sessions 2 and 3 are on the same day and time each week.
Group 1: Wednesday May 22 8PM EST 1 EARLY BIRD SEAT AVAILABLE!
Seats Filled: 1 out 6
SPG Listing: https://startplaying.games/adventure/clw614ptv001tg1r0ati6w2kn
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Group 2: Thursday May 23 8PM EST
Seats Filled: 2 out 6
SPG Listing: https://startplaying.games/adventure/clw617x5i00038yd5fxj4x4r8
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Group 3: Friday May 24 2PM EST
Seats Filled: 2 out 6
SPG Listing: https://startplaying.games/adventure/clw618ty50003mz3nln48qjuu
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Group 4: Friday May 24 8PM EST 2 EARLY BIRD SEATS AVAILABLE!
Seats Filled: 0 out 6
SPG Listing: https://startplaying.games/adventure/clw619mly005i8zr30m94vkxe
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Group 5: Saturday May 25 2PM EST 2 EARLY BIRD SEATS AVAILABLE!
Seats Filled: 0 out 6
SPG Listing: https://startplaying.games/adventure/clw61ad8a000x3754vi2xbfue
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Group 6: Saturday May 25 8PM EST TWITCH STREAMED GAME
Seats Filled: 2 out 6
SPG Listing: https://startplaying.games/adventure/clw61b654004lidjceukus48y

before we start, i wanted to thank you all for actually reading these. a sincere thanks! also, a pterrific night out WILL get a new review later on (i first wanna finish the other mods). and i wanted to adress something about mods involving wani characters. until i get wani, i will not review it nor its mods and snoot game mods that involve characters like inco or ben or olivia. now, lets get reviewin'!
Double Date- 7/10 kinda standart mod, doesnt really stand out but it has meme sound effects. the first drawing (lick) was pretty accurate to the artstyle but the rest were kinda rushed (understandable but not bad at all). really not much to say but it was nice
Fishing Trip- 9/10 this was really cool. even got its own inside joke with el gigante which made me laugh so hard i coughed from el dry-throat syndrome. im not sure how many endings does it have but i got two. not sure how to tell each other apart. sad that its not part of the canon story. i would LOVE to see ripley and anon get along better. one thing i didnt really like is the name of the ship. S.S. HITTLE isnt a good name for a ship in my opinion (cough S.S. cough). at least the boat was damaged enough for the sign to read "SHIT" (hell yeah)
GSWTP (Gay Sex With The Priest)- 7/10 i was confused as i couldnt understand from who's perspective is this mod from, then i realized it some dude narrating. i also dont understand why is enrico pucci involved with this? not once is he mentioned or seen. other than that, awesome. great artstyle, finally a little more story with naomi (i am aware of the naomi route mod, its gonna be in one of the reviews). memes are also not rare in the mods (subaluwa sfx when naomi falls from a ladder just might be the next best thing) i also liked how they added the movie "the boy with the striped pajamas". i didnt watch it, im planning on it but i know that it's a good movie
welp that's it for this review. thanks for reading folks! ill see you next post <3
balls

CONTEXT: I live in Southeast Asia (SEA). You can imagine how I always find myself in the short end of a stick when communities schedule an event (RP, OOC) at 3-4 AM in my timezone.
The solution of overcoming such skill issue by destroying my body clock is thwarted by continuous bouts of existential crisis and adulting failures. The other solution of migrating to the West is as achievable as me punching the surface of the moon.
WHAT I'M LOOKING FOR:
I'm open to Hack-and-Slash (top pic) and MUSH.
Theme: Medieval, High Fantasy, The Genre Where It is Be Acceptable to Open a Coffee Shop But All the Menu are Poisoned
note: cohesive and unified theme is key. I am a very low-tier not smart person, so anything that throws me out of the loop will take me 1-2 business days to recover (if the entirety of the post itself isn't evident enough).
PRIOs

1. An RP (Encouraged/Supported) MU*s that has a community.

This community in question may be many or one person. I don't care if you are alone. If we can RP out our developing characters or gossip like generic NPCs sign me up. Events may be player-initiated or coordinated with staff.

1. An Immersive Environment.

I like to see them environments seasoned, cooked, and served on a sizzling plate with a sprinkle of delusional to liven up the RP experience.

1. Character + Item Customization

Obviously, descriptions are the basis for me to fulfill my hobo/aristrocatic/hermit dreams but self-expression is a plus for me. a.) crafting system b.) classes with "flavor" (see no. 2)
SECONDARY

1. An Acceptable Level of PvE Grind.

JRPGs have raised me to become a farming sadist so EXP grinds are acceptable to me.

1. Limited to No PvP

I can enter in manual PvP or use a code that doesn't explode on me like Chat-GPT's essays getting caught in plagiarism checkers. If that PVP needs a system or some money-dropping scheme, you can bet that I'm noping outta there.

1. Maps

Mapless MU*s is my major weakness. I don't care if I accidentally step into a high level area as a low levelled trash bag. I care when I circle around the area for twenty minutes just to get from Point A to Point B. But I can manage (coping)
FINAL NOTE

1. no, I don't ERP.
   
2. no, I don't have solid picks of what class I'm going to be because it's entirely dependent on the game's lore. But, previous class picks from my current MU*s are:
   

a.) vampire (i'm edgy and i haven't seen the sun in weeks)
b.) bard (I can't rhyme and I have no rizz)
c.) mage (I can do research rp but I nerf my IRL and IC selves with immense imposter syndrome and delulu unless the research in question deals with the voices in your head)
d.) ranger (bows are cool)
Thanks! Looking forward to hear some recos!

Hey guys, I used to work at a private equity marketing agency that bought, scaled, and sold DTC e-commerce, SAAS, info & digital product online brands and I was a media buyer. I have over $10M worth of spend under my belt for clients, and have worked with multiple 7-8 figure online companies.
No I’m not looking to sell you anything so don’t assume that I’m making this post for that reason.
I am trying to build a network of like minded people and am focused on building an engaged community with the same goals to help each other and stuff.
I’ve had the luxury of being able to see many different business models by working for a P.E agency. I will share some businesses I saw and you can do what you want with that info

1 - $100M a year self cooling bedsheet brand

When I tell you self cooling bedsheets had the highest revenue I’ve seen of any ecom store I am not exaggerating. It was f*cking baffling how much money these mfs were making by selling self cooling bedsheets.
The craziest part is that they did it all thru paid ads. I was stunned looking at the backend of the Shopify account and seeing these numbers. The reason a product like self cool bedsheets works so well is because of a few things:
A) Broad TAM (total addressable market) This means they can sell to a broader range of people. The more people you can sell to for e com the better.
Their AOV (average order value) was $110 as well. So not only are they targeting a broad audience, but they have really good margins
I think another reason why this product / brand is doing so well is because of timing as well. They exited in 2018, but really blew up during 2020 when everyone was home.
F it I’ll name drop. They’re called Miracle brand. Go study their LP and ads. Their LP is really high converting like 5-7%. Their offer is amazing (3 free towels with your bedsheets) and the CRO is fully optimized.

2 - subscription based Digital Assets

This one is really good, but super niche. The company basically sells digital editing assets that go with editing software like Davinci, IMovie, and whatever other editing softwares there are
They have 100% profit margins on the product and they offer a subscription. Their AOV is $60 per month and people actually subscribe because they know that these digital assets are really really good and it will save them time when editing. They were doing $2-$3M per year in revenue on a 100% margin product which is now offered as a subscription. I believe the overall margins on the business was like 70-80% they had low overhead.
These mfs are absolutely PRINTING. It’s not easy to make really good digital editing assets either so it’s hard to replicate. The #1 thing when buying or selling a business is margins. Their business if an easily be sold for 7-9x because of big margins, big AOV, and the MRR (monthly recurring revenue). On average businesses sell for 3-6x in the DTC (direct to consumer) e commerce space, but when you add a subscription model and it’s a digital product, you double the valuation of your company
Like I said, I am just sharing business models I’ve seen that were absolutely amazing!

3 - Sticker company

This one I think surprised me the most. These guys were selling a subscription for you to get a pack of custom anime stickers every single month.
Yup, you get high quality anime stickers every single month. This business wasn’t doing $1M but they did take in 6-figs. The reason this model is smart is because the margins are really good. It only costs like $0.50 USD to make a full pack of these custom stickers and you add $3-$4 for shipping. Their AOV was like $25-$30.
I think this business worked well because it caters to a strong fan base of people who love anime. Personally I like avatar and one piece but there’s a lot of anime super fans who would love to subscribe to a sticker club that sends you a custom pack of cool stickers of your favorite anime. Not sure how the legal side of it worked.
Comment what you think, and let me know if you have any questions. Half of these business models were very surprising and to this day it’s hard to believe that they work so well.
Feel free to also share good business models you’ve seen. There’s a lot more I can share but these stand out the most

If you're curious about my thoughts on previous Yakuza games, here are my much shorter (except for 4, thats pretty long too) reviews for Kiwami 1, Kiwami 2, Yakuza 3 (Remastered), and Yakuza 4 (Remastered).
All of my reviews are made pretty quickly after I finish the game, this was written right after I finished but I haven't posted it till a month later because its so long I thought no one would ever read this but whatever I gotta get my truth out there.
Per usual I played the remaster of Yakuza 5. I'm not sure of any outstanding changes or things of note like with 3 or 4, but if something I say is exclusive to the remaster please let me know! I may sound overly praising or overly critical of this game, who knows but please be kind when you tell me i'm an idiot for feeling the way I do! Lastly and most importantly please please please don't spoil future games in the comments! Also warning I'm way too active in the comments section.
Because I am an utter psycho and decided to write a fuckin bibles worth of yakuza 5 ramblings, Part 1 is just reviewing the plot and Part 2 goes over everything else. I split this up last second so there's likely some spots where I say something like "we'll expand on this later" then I never bring it up again, that's because it's probably in part 2. If you want my thoughts on things like the substories, side stories, gameplay, and settings you can read Part 2 here: https://www.reddit.com/yakuzagames/comments/1cvrybw/yakuza_5_a_mega_big_ole_reviewsummary_for_a_big/
The Plot:
Like with Y4, I will discuss my thoughts on each section of the game rather than in one long chunk just because I find it more fun. I'm not even gonna try to not summarize this time because this game is so big it needs broken down.
Part 1: Kiryu
You might often find me compare Y5 to Y4 a lot in this review because they're honestly quite similar games and feel like a package. When I started playing 4 I was worried I wouldn't like playing as primarily strangers for a majority of the game, but one thing they did absolutely right was making Kiryu the final protagonist you play as in that game. So going into 5 I was very apprehensive about starting off with Kiryu, I worried they showed their hand too soon and that it would be difficult to stay invested the whole time.
With this feeling going into the game, I was immediately somewhat losing it over Kiryu being an incognito taxi driver with the worst disguise of all time (some sunglasses and a face mask, don't worry he's literally the only one in the game that seems to think it's a good disguise). Right off the bat, this game feels...sad. Kiryu watching Haruka giving an interview on the TV and storming out rather then defend her to some losers who don't get what ART is, was SAD. This part of the game felt so mundane for awhile, but not in a bad way! You wakeup as Kiryu, walk to work, drive your taxi, and go home late at night (usually) alone. The whole time my eyes were drawn to a facedown picture frame and wondering what it could be, but I certainly had a guess. Kiryu is going through a hard, isolating, and depressing time and you can feel that so well from the game and how they have you play as him. Anyways there's also a random gal named Mayumi that will not leave Kiryu alone despite him asking her to. All you're doing by the end of chapter one is going "Huhhhhhhh?" Anyways Kiryu is approached by two dudes named Morinaga and Aizawa in chapter 2, telling him Daigo was???? Kidnapped?? GASP.. Admittidly I wasn't too fond of this duo at first. One thing that was consistent through my playthrough is that I was completely incapable of predicting anything correctly, and it had felt like these two were gonna be my pals for the rest of the game and I just wasn't clicking with them. Not to mention this weird semi-one sided-romance going on with Mayumi.
In chapter 3, we begin with the most heartbreaking thing that could ever happen to me, Yakuza 3 superfan. Kiryu has been pushed out of running the orphanage by a lady named Miss Park. It's all making sense now. He does it so the orphanage can have money and so Haruka can follow her dreams. DOESNT MAKE IT EASIER TO DEAL WITH FOR ME :( . Then we meet Watase, first thoughts? I was like "god I hope this guy isn't the main villain he's kinda lame" Soon after we meet Aoyama and I thought literally the same thing. Clearly by this point in the game I didn't have the highest hopes. I was mostly sad and not liking most of the new characters. But then... things take a turn.
Mayumi was actually a spy! thank god honestly. Kiryu meets Aoyama again but then Morinaga shows up and fuckin kills Aoyama and says he buried Aizawa alive HOLY SHIT? and then soon after I'm told Majima is fucking dead. Figured he wasn't actually dead cuz I've seen pictures of him from later games but holy shit I somehow cried just at the THOUGHT of him being dead. Also at some point here we met a detective who is an important player in this story but at this point not too integral. Also before Kiryu leaves he picks up the picture frame and its the orphanage ;-;
Kiryu final thoughts: This part of the game was fantastic. I'm so glad they started with Kiryu in this case despite my initial unsureness with it. Chapter 4 especially is when everything really falls into place and starts going 100 miles an hour but I also love the slowness of the previous 3 chapters. I do wish we got more Morinaga as this is unfortunately the last we hear of him despite this being a wonderful set up to a really interesting villain. Mayumi was a pretty shit character per seemingly always with any full grown woman in Yakuza games. While I think it's cool she was secretly a spy she was clearly an afterthought as we never hear about her again so that's cool. Basically a mixed bag of new characters overall.
Part 2: Saejima
I jokingly said to myself "Wouldn't it be funny if I had to spend half of this section breaking out of prison again. Thank god that's not the case." and continued hanging out with Majima until I was arrested for two more years of serving my sentence and OH NO IM BACK IN THE BUILDING.
Yeah I was VERY unsure about breaking out of prison again being a good call. Thankfully, and sorry to Y4, this is a much better prison sequence. Another thing I was really unsure about was BALD SAEJIMA! But actually... it kinda slays harder? In Y4 he looks like that guy from the game The Hatred (an insult) maybe it wouldn't be so bad if bro washed or brushed it but he never did and so instead bald was a slay. Anyways We're dropped in at nearly the end of Saejima's serving period with his group of friends/cellmates, newest one being some dude named Baba. We are relentlessly tortured by the scariest man I've ever seen, Viktor Zsasz-I MEAN! Kugihara. Who's honestly scarier looking then Zsasz somehow. But it is ON because Viktor Zsasz framed my bestie Baba and I will not let that slide so I beat the fuck out of him and it's revealed Zsasz was instructed to be a dick to me. By who??????????????????? Then it's double revealed to me that Majima is dead and I'm sad all over again :(
Turns out our warden is actually really chill and nice and somewhat tries to help us survive. What a breath of fresh air after Satan (Saito) from Y4. This guy is so cool infact we are encouraged to break out by him. So Baba and I do in the dead of the night and tell me why I cried over leaving my two other cellmates ;_; they were such bros. Zsasz hinders my escape and we fight, but my absolute PAL Himura fuckin shoots him it was an amazing turn of events and I cheered so loud and was devastated to leave him behind but anyways-
FUCK YEA SNOW MOBILES (they were kinda jank to control honestly but its the thought that counts). I am so glad I didn't know I was going to be fighting a bear going into this because that was easily the most camp thing ever and so hilarious. Then some old guy saves me (and later Baba) and we chill in the mountains for a little while. The mountain has a whole crazy detailed side story of it's own that I'll explain in more detail later but basically it was cool.
So then a ton of important stuff happens in Tsukimino, most notably we hang out with Baba in a bar which is great because I love Baba and him and I are super tight and he's easily the only person I could ever trust at this point without potential for betrayal! :)
Anyways me and Baba fuckin kidnap this guy because his chair is by a sewer manhole? He's gone in a flash so all I can imagine is dragging him down the hole by his ankle or something. Then we talk for awhile, Majima is mentioned woohoo, THEN HE'S sniped! The way I gasped. Longstory short :( Baba is the one who sniped him and not only that he kind of set everything up and wasn't my best pal all along :( Why Baba Why? Then Baba basically confesses his love for Saejima and can't go through with killing him, AAAAAAND Im back on the Baba train. That detective I mentioned from earlier arrests Saejima but not to throw him back in jail, to assemble the Yakuza avengers.
Final Saejima thoughts: This was shockingly fantastic. I was probably least impressed with Saejima's section in Y4, so it was shocking to have basically the same structure and general narrative beats but done well. It wasn't perfect, I didn't love it as much as Kiryu's section as I'm partial to a slow burn, but it was fun I have no real complaints, except MAYBE more then one chapter in Tsukimino would be a better choice.
Part 3 (first half): Haruka
I did not know I was going to get the HONOR of playing Haruka going into this game. We start off very strong, dancing to the greatest song of all time "So Much More." I mean we really get the full idol experience here with mean ass teachers and shady management. I didn't expect to get an Idol simulator in my Yakuza game but it might be the best thing ever. I decided right off the bat to put everything I had into this section of the game so immediately I did literally everything I could. Most of this chapter feels like a bit of a reflection of Kiryu's were working and going back home alone, it's all as monotonous and isolating as can be (except you're a predebut idol) and I love this. We quickly meet a girl who will serve as my bestie named Akari and yes I indeed would die for her thank you. Meeting Akari introduces us to this sections version of combat, DANCE BATTLES! I know some people might be disappointed you don't get to punch people as Haruka, and I get that, but this feels like a more genuine gameplay style for her character. It's hard to imagine Haruka fighting thugs in the street due to her personality (not that i'd be against it, especially after that weird virtual reality game where I get to wack dudes with a wand) plus I found this gameplay style so refreshing. I was never groaning or sighing because I had to dance against someone. I think it helps that I wasn't forced to do it 15 times in a row walking down the street, but I had the option to most of the time unless it was part of a quest. Maybe that's how all the gameplay should be? I don't mind being approached by thugs sometimes but it always feels like it happens too often in these games and with getting the option to while getting to walk around carefree otherwise in Haruka's section was just SO NICE.
Anyways, We get the whole set up here, we are participating in a competition show that will single handedly set the course for our debut. We're competing against this band called T-set. I hate them so much. They're so mean :(. At some point we see Miss Park absolutely SLAY and tell off Haruka's dance teacher and she doesn't take his shit at all. At this point I was like "Uh ohhhh I don't wanna like her but...she kinda rocks" my decent into stanning Miss Park only continues from there. We have to go convince some guy named Christina (interesting name to take but also a slay, much respect to Mr. Christina and his fedora) to be our new dance instructor. This causes drama with me and Akari which devastated me because I love Akari but we made up like immediately so it's chill.
Then at one point, I forgot the context, Haruka is shopping for a gift for Miss Park when stupid T-set shows up and STEPS ON THE BROACH I BOUGHT FOR HER. I was back and forth on them until now, now they may burn in hell. Especially after they made Haruka get on her knees and beg for forgiveness like ???? what gives ??? Park shows up and SLAYS and gets rid of them. Park then wears the broach :(((((((((
Then one of my favorite parts happen in chapter 2, Haruka and Miss Park go hit the town and just bond together. It's so stinking cute I wanted to cry. This whole time I was trying to not get emotionally attached to Park because it really felt like she was gonna end up betraying us. But the night continued and we get some mother daughter vibes going, even so far as holding hands????? Also Im somewhat glad I didn't get to wear the outfit I bought at the store with Park because I was going for a Cheetah girls inspired look then realized far too late how tacky that might come off, not everyone is Raven Symone ya know?
Anyways at this point I'm like wow this is the cutest game ever, nothing can ever go wrong, Park MIGHT betray me but I don't even care. She gives us a cool pen and a tragic anime backstory with an abusive ex husband and everything and we call it a night Well the next fuckin day my world crumbles because PARK IS DEAD! She "committed suicide" as if!
Part 3 (second half): Akiyama
I can't tell you how devastated I was to realize I'd only get to play as Akiyama for half of a section of the game. However, I was also thrilled to see him at all. Apparently he's opening a Satenbori office and also he is the one who financed Park's dream to debut Haruka so that's how he has a hand in all this. There is tragically very little Hana, she calls you twice and both times were fantastic but I wish I had more :(. Anyways Akiyama has heard about Park's death and goes to the office and meets Haruka. I didn't think they'd even really know each other and assumed we'd have an interesting reveal that they both know Kiryu later but nah they know each other. It honestly probably works better this way because we don't have time for such trivial things! Akiyama is a fuckin detective now. I don't know why he has been tasked to do this but he does it so well I don't even mind. He quickly figures out Park didn't actually kill herself and they simply need evidence to prove this. I'm unsure when this happens but at some point while talking about the mystery SOMEONE FALLS OFF THE ROOF! It was Horie :( who I haven't mentioned yet but he's my manager and a real pal. Thankfully he lived but we found out that the former dance teacher pushed him off. I think he also killed Park or Kanai did, who knows, either way someone did and they suck for it.
Chapter 4 has a lot going on, but basically the president of Osaka talent is sus and he's also the secret chairman of Ousaka Enterprises, which is a different thing... but sounds similar. Ousaka is basically a higher up family in the Omi alliance, so he's part of the bad yakuza!!! Haruka keeps doing the competition and T-set keeps sucking. She wins the princess league by a landslide. I don't even see the point in a third round if she won both of the other rounds? Is the third round just worth more points? Either way Haruka destroyed them and they suck. Her poor vocal instructor is working as her manager now. At some point we find out Parks ex husband was none other then Majima! Which is quite the revelation. Japan is such a small world, everyone seems to know each other. This does mean that Majima at least hit Park (I think after her abortion) and I think he's like 10 years older then her yet they were already married when she debuted at eighteen... Is it time for me to confront the possibility that my favorite crazed murderer might not be the most upstanding citizen?
It ends with Haruka being kidnapped, (nothing out of character there), and Akiyama saving her. He and Haruka make their way to Japan for the big ole concert Park had been planning. Wow this story is really picking up! I hope nothing grinds it to a sudden stop!
Part 3 final thoughts: God this was amazing, every step of it. My only complaint is I wanted more, more Akiyama and MORE dancing but I might be the only one who wanted 40 more hours of dancing. Detective Akiyama and Haruka duo was not the team I knew I needed but Im glad it happened. I found all of the music and gameplay here SO fun and I loved the plot too. I really liked Parks character. I wouldn't necessarily hang out with her, but I found her to be pretty well written and its hard to hate anyone Haruka clearly treasures, I am very sad she is actually dead because up until the end of the game I kept thinking she was going to come back.
Part 4: Shinada:
We have come to a sudden stop. We start with a flashback to 1997 where Shinada has debuted as a baseball player for the wyverns, don't forget this moment because the rest of this section of the game constantly calls back to it. In the modern day Shinada is a loser who is really heavily indebt and lives in a weird grimey rooftop shack. He also now writes like ? smut articles ? And he's friend with a girl named Milky which is the craziest name I've ever heard. A loanshark who talks about his kids a lot constantly follows Shinada around and takes his money. There was a lot of promise with this gag, like maybe instead of letting me keep the 100k and still acting like I'm broke he shows up after every side mission to rob me but nope. At the end of the chapter we run into a masked man who is frankly just Daigo stealing Kiryu's disguise idea.
Shinada and loanshark (his name is Takasugi) walk around town looking for leads on uncovering the truth of Shinada's past. Because you see, Shinada one time got fired from baseball cuz everyone thought he cheated, oh you already knew that? yeah same but don't worry you'll hear it at least 40 more times. Daigo asked him to go look for clues about this, why does he care? I still don't know honestly. Takasugi is forcing him to go because...I guess money? and he's walking around with me and were acting like friends now for some reason. Shinada is incapable of having any agency for himself, he just does what people tell him to. He also keeps nearly dying like a looney tunes character with shit falling out of the sky and stuff. Eventually we find out the Nagoya family fixed the match and then some guy Shinada used to know does get smashed like a looney tunes character. Skip ahead, were called to help by Milky and she betrayed us. I am sad cuz I thought Milky was a friend for life. Turns out literally everyone Shinada knows aside from the fkn loanshark are evil, even the old baseball lady. This plot was so convoluted I frankly don't understand why they were doing what they were doing, all I know is they were more like a neighborhood watch situation then Yakuza even though they seemed to do the exact same thing. Also when I say literally everyone he knows is evil I mean everyone, even his old coach or whatever. For way too long I thought they meant the middle school baseball coach so I was hella confused. Anyways we then find out that actually Takasugi is Shinada's number one baseball fan. Okay? Anyways
Chapter 4 things finally pick up a little. Daigo reveals himself like anyone ever was doubting it was him, and he also reveals he cares because he went to highschool with Shinada. Is that fr how were connecting this? Daigo got expelled from highschool because he protected Shinada from a rival school. Once again, okay? I guess Shinada doesn't like that Daigo is a yakuza and punches him out the door. I wasn't a fan of this. Daigo goes down pretty easily, pitiful Daigo strikes again. I love him but can he do anything right? Anyways I guess the fight meant nothing cuz they're pals now and go to Tokyo together. We get a cut to Takasugi getting his money back from Shinada as well as a signed baseball...okay that's really cute I nearly cried. I wish they actually left it there but instead Shinada runs away last minute to meet up on that stupid baseball field from 1997 that we cant go 5 minutes without hearing about and we fight this guy named Sawada who was like the kind of mastermind and also the pitcher. Had Sawada not thrown an easy pitch, Shinada wouldn't have hit it and thus been kicked out for cheating. We fight some Omi then play baseball and OMG WHY ARE WE DOING THISSSSSS
Finally it ends and we go to Tokyo
Shinada final thoughts: If you cant tell I was not a fan of this. I found Shinada to be really inconsitently written. In side missions or when he's playing off of certain characters he's quite entertaining and un, but most of the time, he seems to just be a blank slate who does whatever and only talks about baseball. And omg maybe if I liked baseball this would have been the best thing ever but we did not need THAT much baseball talk or constant referencing to that baseball game in 1997. I get its central to his character but it became a meme how often he'd get misty eyed and talk about getting kicked out. Why did he move Nagoya to escape his image as a cheating baseball player when 1) he constantly talks about it anyways, 2) everyone literally knows who he is here anyways. They make it seem like at first he wants nothing to do with baseball anymore but he also goes to the batting cages all the time and also thinks about nothing but baseball. The plot here is just SO hard to follow and not at all what I want to be dealing with after we were really in the thick of things with part 3's ending. I'm not saying it was impossible for this to be good, I think there was so much potential here! Like seemingly all of Yakuza 4, the concepts are there but the execution is iffy. I think it's biggest downfall is when it happens. It would have made so much more sense to make the last section before the finale the Haruka section. Shinada would have felt much better to play as maybe as a part two or even a part three, but NOT part four. The odds were stacked against him being amongst a cast of characters that I already know and love. I definitely was more of a Tanimura fan, but I liked Shinada as a person. His inconsistent writing, unfortunate story, and tendency to be a little annoying really dragged this part of the game down for me.
Part 5: The Finale
This finale is crazyyyyyyy so strap in. I would expect nothing less then insanity from this game. First Kiryu shows up in Kamurocho WERE HOME BABYYYYYY. Were being followed by BABA!! I missed him. We fight for fun or something then we cut to Saejima who is meeting with the detective who tells us we gotta find Morinaga. OH YEAH THAT GUY. So we go to the Florist and we go to the arena only to find... AIZAWA??? The fuck? I thought Morinaga fuckin killed him cold blooded and made me think he was a cool as fuck villain. Only to find out that GASP Morinaga is actually dead. At this point I literally don't believe it because I guess I was in my era of not believing anyone ever dies.
We go to Akiyama who is told by Osaka ceo to not let Haruka perform. Akiayam says hell no. We also find out that Park and him planned to make Haruka and T-set a group and debut them at the same time but I somehow missed this when playing and didnt realize that till way leter. ANYWAY At some point we also see the CEO doing naked push ups in his penthouse which was so weird. ALSO there is a Date-san reveal. The scream I screamt! I didn't know I missed him or needing him so much in a game till I saw him again. Usually I'm wondering why he's even there or what he adds but I finally get it now, he adds being Date to the table and that's all you need.
Then I do a tower sweep at Kamurocho hills and OMG is this what Majima was building the whole time? To be fully honest it's beautiful and im very proud but its so different and lowkey off-putting. Kind of like Majima himself. I miss him. A whole game and I only be hearing about him second hand its not fair. Question, did literally anyone choose Saejima to do the tower sweep? Anyway were on the top of the tower; Kiryu, Saejima, CEO Katsuya, and Watase. We all have to fight eachother to draw out the one true bad guy and also cuz this is a yakuza game, so off our shirts go and everyone fights. Basically everyone gets shot and the bad guy is revealed... THE DETECTIVE. Who saw it coming? I still kept thinking Park would come back or Morinaga but by this point I was definitely suspecting him too. I don't fully get why he's doing all this but long story short he's purging both the Omi and Tojo of nice? Yakuza? I guess? I think it mostly has to do with him making way for his son to inherit a role in everything but thats not further explored till later. Not to worry tho! Daigo has shown up!!!! But because he is Daigo you should definitely be worried because once again he cant do anything right and he gets shot by Kanai. God dammit Daigo. He is now in critical condition, this is the SECOND TIME THIS HAS HAPPENED DAIGO. He's such a damsel in distress, never change.
Baba tells Haruka the message Kiryu had for her, to never give up. He also asks her to come with him to convince to Kiryu to chillax but she refuses. Sad for no one but me. At the New Serena, where that absolute BOP of a song is blaring, Kiryu is sleeping, while the rest of the crew are chilling and chatting. I forgot to mention Akiyama and Shinada briefly teamed up but frankly who cares. Shinada talks about baseball alot here too just incase you were worried he wouldnt. They conclude that detective bad guy is gonna attack Haruka's concert which I will NEVER allow. I guess Shinada's purpose here is actually tha the knows the stadiuk layout pretty well which I will buy in to. Also I believe here Haruka gets told about her and t-set being a band together now called Dreamline. I also dont love this. The idea of it is fine, Im all for a disney channel original movie plot where the bullies are actually great and we all become friends at the end but the issue is they don't properly develop T-set to do that. The short haired girl gets one little moment of being somewhat nice to Haruka then the very next time I see her she's stepping on my boss's broach and making me beg on my knees like sorry but it's really hard to come around on liking them. Even now when Haruka stumbles duing practice they're rude! This is a tragic ending if anything but Haruka seems happy I guess... Dont worry they will be nothing more then Haruka's glorifed backup dancers.
Okay final chapter, and it's a doozy. We send Shinada of all people to go help Haruka at the stadium, I know i just said I get he knows the layout of the stadium but like :( he's literally the only one who hasn't met her. I guess they don't end up interacting really anyways. Saejima is going to go after Majima because btw he's alive and at the top of the millenium tower. Akiyama and Kiryu stay on the ground to defend against attackers and they probably punch/ kick at least 10000 men. All the while Haruka gives her concert. But Baba is lurking and gonna shoot her, I thought he learned to be good again but whatever. Him and Shinada end up having a confrontation that ends in Baba losing and he's about to kill himself when !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! my prison besties and the wardon show and up stop him! Oh my god I loved that so much what a nice resolution for Baba and I love that those guys went straight to a Jpop concert just for their pal. Meanwhile Saejima confronts Detective evil man on top of the millenium tower and !!! there he is, finally Majima is here. But he is not having a good time, turns out he's allowed himself to be captured and tortured for the sake of Haruka and now Majima and Saejima have to fight for the same reason. Then! Daigo shows up, while im literally begging him to actually shoot the bad guy but instead they all talk. Haruka is safe from harm (Baba wouldn't have done that shit anyways) and we officially learn about the plot of him attempting to put his son in charge of everything. Kiryu goes to Tojo headquarters to stop whoever this suspicious son is and Akiyama fights Kanai. Then literally all our friends ever show up to help and that was damn cute.
Kiryu shows up and it's eerie, completely silent with dead people everywhere. We go to the meeting room and the guy behind it all along was Aizawa. I definitely did not see that coming because I forgot he existed. But I suppose thats the point, he was so unassuming. I guess that means Morinaga actually was dead all along. We fight Aizawa while Haruka sings a song that seems very pointed at Kiryu wins (duh) but he is not doing well and tries to make his way through the streets. Meanwhile Haruka announces her retirement because she cant hide who she is or stay away from her family any longer and runs away to find Kiryu and THE GAME ENDS. Other games gave me a after credits scene that somewhat eased my concerns, but 5 is a overall very sad game and it's scene is her managing to him but he's bleeding out in the streets and falls unconcious in her arms.
Finale final thoughts: This was quite the finale! It was much better then Shinada's section but it was still a bit messy and left a lot of plot threads up in the air or had some unfortunate revelations. Nothing bad but things I think shouldve maybe been revealed earlier, like Aizawa. Only finding out with like 20 minutes of the game to go makes it feel too empty or even rushed when we know this game is otherwise not rushed at all. I was a little sad about the ending, I don't think it was bad at all I was just sad. The whole time I imagined it ending with the whole gang going to Haruka's concert and having a good time. For once I dont think the game fully dropped the ball on the finale like they tend to do so I commend it for that.
TLDOverall plot final thoughts: As a whole this is one of the most well written Yakuza stories since Yakuza 3 (obviously in my opinion). I can see that for some people all the plot twists and surprises might have felt like too much but I loved it, I never once could predict where this game was going. Morinaga dying off screen was such a let down and missed opportunity, at the end of Kiryu's section I was thinking he was going to be the best Yakuza villain in awhile but instead he went out in such a lame way. I do kinda wonder who killed him, I assumed it was just the detective guy but Aizawa seemed at least somewhat sad about Morinaga's death. I wonder if that was all a show? Another thing I dislike not just because of how it went, but also that it ended up going no where, Mayumi. They made quite the big deal about her at first and I do like the plot twist that she was a spy, but she wasn't even really acting any different when she was in spy mode and in normal mode. Plus you literally never see her again. I think Saejima's section was just very reminicent of his in 4, but done well. Aside from it taking quite so long to get to the city, by the time you leave it feels slightly rushed. I think the chapter in the woods didnt need to be its own thing. Absolutely no notes with Haruka, only that I'm sad this is all we will see of Park, I found her to be a really interesting character. Akiyama is where my main issues arise, only because I really do think he needed his whole section. He felt a little tacked on otherwise when I think he really didn't need to feel that way. I had hoped he would be part of half of Haruka's section then half of Shinada's where he is used to introduce us to Shinada as a character. But instead we get dropped into that like nothing. I know im probably the only one who cares about Hana this much but I really wish we got more of her. I basically said all my issues with Shinada at the end of his section but once again, I really didn't enjoy that plot. The finale was a mess and unfortunatly left at quite a cliff hanger which I wouldve rather it didn't but Im also okay with how it did. Some other things I wanted in this game was MORE MAJIMA I get why he wasnt for narrative purposes but Im gonna say that in every game. I wouldve loved more Okinawa orphan content. That being said there is way more content for them in this then in Y4 which is wild considering we spent like 5 seconds in Okinawa during a flashback and you never actually see them. It was so nice to hear what theyre up to second hand and some of the side missions expand on them a little more but I am devastated they werent there.
Lastly to briefly compare it to Y4, as they do feel like connected games. Y5 realy does feel like they took all of the concepts of the 4th game that needed to be reworked, and then re-did them to be better. The villains are better, prison break outs are better, and just like way more. I do think there are things in Y5 that are lacking compared to Y4, like general atmosphere, and I do think Tanimura's section in 4, as flawed as it is, is better then Shinadas. Akiyama's in 5 is great, but I love his in Y4 more simply because he doesn't have to share the spotlight. But I really have to emphasize, story and character are done better in Y5, ATMOSPHERE is done so much better in Y5.
TLDR for the TLDR: I liked this game :)
And there you have it, the longest goddamn review of all time. It was a really great game and I wish I could play it for the first time again because it was just SUCH a great experience. If you read this far I am so impressed by you and eternally grateful you even cared to. Please let me know your thoughts! I'm so excited to talk about this game with people. As for my rating, It was going to be a 10/10 until I got to Shinada's section now I'm in between an 8 or a 9. Ill just say 8/10 to be mean.
I am already neck deep in Yakuza 0 so I'm excited to write a much shorter review for that one soon.
Thank you for reading!

Oh, boy, Charlotte, do I have a doozy for you. It’s such a doozy that it comes in 2 parts. I guess it would qualify as petty revenge, since that’s the only flair that fit, but it’s more of an entitled Karen story.
For the sake of telling the story a little smoother, I'm going to explain some things up front. I (female, early 30s; let's call me Molly) am the manager in the accounting office of a very small loan company. Like, really small. We have less than 30 offices with only 2 employees at each office. For this reason, we are kind of low-tech, old-fashioned. I'm talking paper timesheets that get faxed to our office (we're also the corporate office that handles the payroll). Our office hours are 8:30 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. with a half-hour lunch. Me & my employee (who we'll call Sally) work this shift. Our boss (who we'll call Greg) is the owner & CEO. He works in the office starting at 9:00 a.m. till whenever he leaves for the day. Most of the time, that's around the time we leave, sometimes it's earlier due to errands he needs to run.
So, in Oct 2022, Sally (female, early 30s) gave us a note that her doctor wants to have daily appointments with her indefinitely. She let us know she would need to leave at 3:30 every day. Greg granted that request & even gave her the opportunity to come in early so she didn't miss any of her 8 hours each day. So, she began coming to work between 6:45 & 7:00 & would take however long of a lunch she needed to so she would have an 8-hour day.
Due to a combination of our fiscal year-end work in Oct & Nov 2022, playing catch-up from Dec 2022 to Feb 2023, & the other coworker (who we'll call Irene) leaving the company in Feb 2023 so we had to play catch-up again for several months before we got used to the bigger workload, I hadn't been able to pay too close attention to Sally's work. But in the middle of Aug 2023, I began to suspect her. I realized that the tasks Sally had in the morning would usually take me an hour & a half to do, which meant I would be relatively finished by the time I would arrive at 8:30. Sally, on the other hand, would only have stuff halfway done. Now, I knew Sally worked slower than me since I knew the job better than she did, but this still seemed very slow. I began to suspect Sally was either not arriving as early as she said she was (she was the only one in the office before 8:30) or she was arriving on time but wasn't working.
On Aug 21 (Monday), I decided to come in early to the office since I had to make up time due to a doctor appointment later in the week. So, I arrived at work at 6:40. 6:45 rolled around...no Sally. 6:50...no Sally. 7:00...same thing. Sally arrived at 7:20. Now, ok, maybe she ran into traffic. However, that's a bit of a coincidence that the one day I show up early unannounced is also the day she happens to be late. But I waited to see what time Sally would write down on the timesheet. However, she didn't write down her time until Tuesday right before she left. She had written down that she had arrived at 7:05. I asked her about it, and her response was "I must have copied it down wrong from my spreadsheet." That's strange, 'cause you hadn't arrived at 7:05 any other day that week. Just where did you copy it down from?
Now, I am curious as to what time Sally puts down when she believes no one has seen what time she arrives. So, for Sept 4-15, I would arrive in the parking lot across the street & read a book & eat breakfast while I wait to see what time Sally would arrive. Every single day, she would arrive around 7:15 or 7:20, but would write down 6:45 or 6:50, a half hour discrepancy every single day. & we have no way of knowing how long she's been stealing a half hour every day. She could have been doing this for the past year since her schedule changed.
On Sept 18, I write down Sally's actual times from these 2 weeks on a paper & tell her to correct all the times I indicated. Sally says that she will use the office clock to write down her times from now on. Wait a minute, you're saying that your phone is a half hour earlier than the rest of the world? But only when you arrive at work. When you go to lunch & leave work, it matches the rest of the clocks. & then switches during the night so your arrival time can be wrong again the next day? Wow, that's a pretty glitchy phone you got there.
On Sept 20 after Sally left, I installed a camera that connects to an app in my phone. I put the camera in a place where it wouldn't be able to see any computers/paperwork & turned off the microphone (I didn't want to risk any company info being seen/heard). I only needed to see when Sally arrived. Where I ended up placing it, I was able to see Sally where she sat at her desk.
On three of the following days, Sally would arrive 10 to 15 minutes after the time she would write down. I speak with Greg about this, & we decide to write her up. By the way, usually when an employee is caught forging the timesheet like this, it's an immediate termination. At any other office, she would have gotten fired in the beginning of Sept after I first discovered the half hour forgery. I am deciding to give her a chance to make this whole thing right.
On Sept 26 (Tuesday), I give Sally the write up when she arrives.
Sally: I'll sign it, but I don't know why. I mean, I get here at 7:00. (Ok, there's a sign right there. Who signs an official write up when their employer is lying or setting them up?)
Me: I've observed you arriving between 7:10 & 7:15.
Sally reads the write up & then keeps it at her desk for a bit after signing it. After plenty of time, I ask for it back. She grabs it, so I lean forward & hold my hand out (our desks are right next to each other), but Sally flings it at my desk. The whole thing is made better by the fact that Greg is out of town Tuesday thru Thursday. So, Sally proceeds to be angry & have an attitude all the way through Thursday. She refuses to talk or answer the phones. She does that tossing/flicking-papers-around, aggressive-typing, heavily-setting-things-down thing people do when they're frustrated or angry (which she did all...day...long). She sped out of the parking lot & down the street so fast that I could hear her engine rev & tires squeal from inside the building.
On Sept 27 (Wednesday), Sally is still doing that slamming things thing. I enjoy not responding to her whatsoever. I could see out of the corner of my eye that she would slam something down & look at me. I wouldn't give any kind of reaction, wouldn't look at her, & it would piss her off. Sally would then start slamming things around again. I admit, that was fun.
On Sept 28 (Thursday), I see on the camera that Sally arrives at 7:00, but then I watch her sit on her phone for 45 minutes! She is still having attitude issues, &—unbelievably—is still slamming things. After she leaves for the day, I then see the calendar that Sally keeps on her desk as I was passing by. On the box for Sept 26 (the day she was written up), she had written the words "F***ING JOKE!". The audacity of her to write that in plain view of everyone in the office & think she wouldn't get in trouble for it.
On Sept 29 (Friday), Sally arrives at 7:00 but sits on her phone for 30 minutes WHILE VAPING! (Not sure about other cities or states, but it's illegal to smoke or vape inside a building in the city where our office is.) But Greg is back this day, & I had been texting him what's been going on. He had texted back he wanted to do a meeting on Friday. So, the 3 of us go into the breakroom for a meeting.
Greg: So, Sally, what's been going on with this timesheet thing?
Sally: I just, I forget to write down the time when I arrive.
Greg: Ok, well, whether it's done on purpose or through negligence, we can't have wrong times on the timesheet. So, from now on, you won't be able to come to work before Molly gets here at 8:30. Now, are there any other problems you'd like to discuss with us?
Sally: (begins getting worked up) I just, I feel like I can't talk to her. She creates such a hostile work environment.
Now, I am blown away. Me? Hostile? I'm autistic, so I'm naturally shy & hate socializing, so I usually don't talk to anyone very much. Everyone I tell this story to, their eyes widen when I mention this, 'cause there's no way anyone would ever describe me as hostile.
Luckily, Greg interrupts her to defend me: This isn't a hostile work environment.
Sally: (backpedaling) Well, I mean, she gets mad at her printer & bangs on it, & that just flashes me back to stuff. I mean, I'm trying to work on myself & the anxiety, & she just sends me back.
Oh, so now, we're claiming we have PTSD & that my "violent" actions are giving her flashbacks? Um, who is it laughing right along with me every time my printer jams? (By the way, I know she's lying about the PTSD, 'cause I have a couple friends with PTSD & recognize the signs. Sally doesn't show any sign of fear or panic or shrinking away from things, nothing like that. There are no signs whatsoever of her being alarmed by anything I do.) Oh, not to mention the double standards. You're allowed to slam things around (for 3 straight days, by the way), but I'm not?
Anyway, we wrap up the meeting after Greg underlines (for Sally's benefit) that everyone in the office needs to get along.
On Oct 2 (the next Monday), I had a good drive & happened to get there at 8:20. Sally arrives at 8:25 & comes in, stopping at my desk.
Sally: (annoyed) Are you gonna be early all week?
Me: (frowning & caught off-guard) Um, I don't know. It just depends how long my drive takes.
Sally: (with a snarky attitude) 'Cause I had to keep driving around waiting for you, so if you're gonna be early, I'd like to know.
Ok, first of all, no one is forcing you to drive around. You can park your car in the parking lot. Do you really think we're gonna fire you for sitting in the parking lot while you wait for me? We only said you couldn't come in & work before I do. & second, it's none of your business when I get to work. My shift starts at 8:30, therefore, you should aim for 8:30, just like Greg told you to do. How am I supposed to predict the exact minute I get to work? & you're gonna get angry at me 'cause I didn't show up before my shift starts? Since when is it a requirement of mine to come into work before I start working?
Well, a bit of malicious compliance in this entitled story: if I can see I'm going to arrive at work more than 5 minutes early, I stop at the store just down the road & shop until 8:30. 'Cause guess what? Sally gets there who knows how early & sits in the gas station across the street, waiting for me. Fine, you wanna be that way? I can be petty, too.
By the way, Sally has a radio talk show she listens to from before I get to work until it ends at 10:00. I'm not into talk shows, but it wasn't too annoying (most of the time), so I didn't say anything about it. The reason why I started having a problem listening to it was that they would get into inappropriate things (s** toy review, for example). It made me super uncomfortable when they did segments like this. From the moment Sally was written up, she started only listening to the show on her headphones, thinking she was punishing me by me not getting to hear the show. Joke's on her. Sally did me a favor by not having to listen to that thing.
Sally was also told that she is no longer allowed to take smoke breaks on the clock. As no one else in the office takes breaks but chooses to work through them, this change would be made so all employees were equal now. But here’s the interesting thing: Sally suddenly stopped taking smoke breaks at all, but her bathroom breaks grew more numerous & longer. When she had been taking smoke breaks, the alarm on her phone would go off at specific times, such as 2:00. She would then go outside to take her smoke break. After the on-the-clock-smoke-break privilege was taken away, the same alarms would go off, such as 2:00. She would then disappear to the bathroom for 15 minutes. & I even smelled smoke in there when I went in there right after one of these long bathroom breaks.
Ever since the write up, there’s been attitude every once in a while. Most of the time, I have no idea what it is I did that could possibly have set her off that day. All I know is that Sally’s suddenly slamming things around again (hmm, PTSD cured now, is it?). & she’s still constantly making mistakes (like she’s always done).
On Nov 27, Sally is working on the Funding (loan proceeds funded onto a customer’s debit card). What we do is get the list of customers, determine how much the office funded that customer, transfer the money from the office’s bank account to the holding account, & then transfer the total from the holding account to the account that directly funds the debit cards to replenish the money. We had two customers with similar names (say, John Smith & Jack Smith). Sally hadn’t paid attention to the whole name & had applied John’s $0 funding to Jack. However, Jack had been funded $250. So, that money was missed, & I had to make a separate transfer for it.
On Dec 4, Sally is working on the Funding & writes down $0 for a customer. But the report from the office says he actually got $96.
On Dec 8 & 9, we discovered 2 checks that were supposed to be sent to our office (one from Oct, one from Sept). Neither had been cashed, & neither had ever reached us, even though we had the rest of the paperwork that would have come with those checks. Due to the dots I had connected, I had a pretty strong hunch that Sally wasn’t thoroughly checking the mail envelopes to make sure they’d been completely emptied before they got thrown away. I believed these checks were still in some envelopes that were then thrown away by Sally.
On Dec 11, on the bank reconciliation sheets we work at the end of the month (like balancing a checkbook), one of Sally’s offices was out of balance by $68, & she couldn’t find it. I couldn’t find it, either. I pulled out the one done for the month before. I couldn’t find it there, either. But I did notice one thing. The checks that hadn’t cleared the bank yet didn’t add up to the total amount of outstanding checks Sally had written down. By $68. I go back to the month before that one. There were a total of $68 in old checks that never got cashed & therefore should have gotten written off on the fiscal year-end at the end of Oct. But she hadn’t transferred them to the new month’s sheet. So, now, we have to hold onto them for a whole year to write off next Oct.
The same day, I went through all the offices to double check the GL codes that we post the expense checks to (GL codes determine where an expense gets coded, e.g., post an electricity payment to the GL code for utilities). The day previously, Sally had gotten several GL codes incorrect in the Miller office. She had forgotten to change the codes from the one for the Checkbook to the ones for the expense account. She had caught those ones since it affected the balance of the Checkbook, so I had helped her fix those properly. However, there were expense checks sent to a GL code that wasn’t the right one that Sally hadn’t caught.
I talk with Greg, as I feel that every time I turn around, I am either retraining Sally on stuff I’ve trained her on multiple times, I’m correcting mistakes on stuff Sally should know how to do by now (‘cause again, I’ve trained her multiple times), or I’m disciplining Sally about stuff she’s doing wrong. Greg asks how many mistakes due to carelessness she’s made in the last 2 weeks. I check my notes & tell him 4. He says that’s too excessive for an accounting office. We need to write her up.
So, I made the write up, but I just know I’m going to be dealing with the same attitude as the last time I had to write her up. & guess what? Greg’s out of town till Thursday again. I used my phone this time to record the audio of the interaction. That way, if Sally has attitude towards me again, I’m able to play the recording to Greg so he can hear what Sally’s like when he’s not here (which is why the following conversation is pretty much word for word).
On Dec 12 (Tuesday), I sat her down first thing.
Me: So, in the past couple weeks, I’ve noticed some errors happening due to carelessness, & they’ve become a bit excessive for an accounting office. The most important thing in an accounting office is accuracy. That’s why we focus so much on thoroughness & attention to detail. So, whatever needs to happen to lessen those errors, whether it’s slowing the pace of the work itself or double & triple-checking the work before it’s finished, it needs to happen. For example, when I work the payroll, after I get the total for all the offices, I then subtract each person’s individual hours to double check my entries. That way, if there is an error, at least I know it wasn’t ‘cause I was going too fast or not paying attention or something. So, whatever you need to do to decrease the mistakes, please—
Sally: What errors are we talking about?
Me: I have a page here with the items from the last couple weeks. (hand her the write up)
Sally: (reads the pages for a minute) Ok…
Me: So, whatever you need to do to—
Sally: (talking quickly ‘cause she’s pissed now) I’m gonna need more time & focus strictly on Funding. I don’t wanna touch mail, I don’t wanna touch anything else. I wanna focus strictly on that. ‘Cause I’m getting 80 plus a day (which was a lie, we never get nearly that much), & now, I’m gonna start getting in trouble if it’s not 110%. I am human. I will make mistakes. So, if that’s not allowed, then…(shrugs) let me know, I guess. I’ll talk to Greg & I guess figure something out. I am human, & I am gonna make mistakes, A. B, I feel like crap. He (Greg) has been in here sick the last week. I caught whatever he has. I’ve been hacking. I’ve been sicker than sh** the last week. I am trying. You guys usually have until the 12th to close the month. Since I’ve worked here, I’ve closed before the 8th. Yeah, I made mistakes. I told you I made a mistake on the Miller office. I knew what happened. So, to throw it in my face again that I already made that mistake is kinda rude, but…(shrugs) I’m actually kinda shocked to see that on there.
Me: Well, you did catch the errors involving the Checkbook, but there were other mistakes on that office that you didn’t catch, & that’s the reason that was listed on there.
Sally goes back to her work, & I decide to not ask her to sign the write up I had given her right away since she was diving right into the Funding. She had expressed she wanted to focus solely on it to minimize mistakes. I wanted to use positive reinforcement to convey that this was good behavior & good thinking, so I decided to wait for her to finish before asking her to sign & return the write up.
Now, here’s the issues with her little outburst above.

1. Sally is complaining that she’s human & makes mistakes & we’re not allowing mistakes. We’re not saying that she can’t make mistakes, ‘cause she’s right. Everyone makes mistakes; I make mistakes. What we’re saying is that she’s making mistakes much too often.
   
2. Sally says the reason for these mistakes the last 2 weeks is ‘cause she’s been sick the last week or so ‘cause she caught what Greg had (do you see the timing problem there?). Also, these kinds of mistakes have been happening for months & months. I only brought these examples up ‘cause they were recent.
   
3. Sally pointed out the fact that she closes each month really quick. We don’t care how fast things get done. Our goal isn’t to get things done quickly but to get things done accurately. If we happen to get it done quickly, that’s just a bonus. We would rather things go slow than to have errors causing problems or costing us money ‘cause we didn’t take the time to make sure it was correct.
   
4. Sally states it’s rude that I’m throwing her error back in her face (you already know my reaction to that). She obviously doesn’t know how a job works. Just ‘cause we discussed this error already doesn’t mean it can’t go on the write up. This is just one of the examples that required us to do a write up. We’re not doing this ‘cause we want to write you up or that we’re looking for excuses to get you in trouble. We’re doing our job. If a situation needs correcting, we have to correct it. We can’t just ignore it. & obviously, me talking about your errors all these months hasn’t helped. You’re still making the same mistakes. So, now, we’ve had to escalate to a write up on paper.
   

Sally doesn’t say another word. She, as expected, starts doing her tossing-things-‘cause-I’m-pissed-off thing. I just go back to my work. I’ve said my piece, now we can put it behind us & move on.
Now, we have until 10:30 to make the transfers for this Funding program in order to get the money back to the account the same day. We are still missing the paperwork for 2 customers from an office. (FYI, when we’re missing paperwork, we call the office & ask them to fax it. If we still don’t get it when it gets close to the transfer deadline, we call again & just ask for the amount to get it done.) So, at 10:20, Sally turns to me.
Sally: What do I do for these 2 customers? Do I just skip them?
Me: (frowning) Do what you usually do when you don’t have the paperwork in time. Call the office—
Sally: (in a sharp tone) I did. (she’s assuming I mean call the office to tell them to fax it)
Me: (ignoring her attitude outburst) Call up the office & ask for the dollar amounts.
Sally: But I don’t want to write down the amount without seeing the actual paperwork. If I’m gonna get in trouble for errors now, I don’t want to take down what could be the wrong dollar amount over the phone. I mean, I think that’s only fair to me.
Me: In the instances that were mentioned, they weren’t cases of taking down an amount over the phone. They were instances where we had paperwork or a report to see the amount. We would never write you up if there was a possibility that the office gave you the wrong amount over the phone.
Sally stares at me for a second & turns back to her desk. I turn back to my own work as Sally then calls up the office. I had to deal with her attitude the rest of the day: throwing mail into the mailbox, throwing open the letter folding machine so it made a big bang on the table. I was trying to still be the usual friendly, professional person I am at work; I told her “See you tomorrow” & everything. Sally wouldn’t talk to me unless she had to.
This is when I discovered that Sally has a habit of lashing out at me when she gets in trouble. The first write up involved her trying to drag me under the bus by claiming I’m hostile. This time, it was more personal. See, we do a Christmas gift exchange at the office; we each buy each other a gift. I had searched over & over trying to find something Sally would like. I finally found this desk calendar with gnomes on it (she likes both of these things), so I got it & a couple small items. I open my gift from Sally, & among a few cheap little things, I found…Sally’s own nearly empty bottle of nail polish remover. Wow, this is the thanks I get for not firing you back in Sept with the whole timesheet forgery thing?
& this is where I leave you until Part 2, the conclusion.

So at the climax of Revenge of the Sith, when Anakin has gone all 9/11 and is flailing about in his lifelong misery while taking the galaxy down with him, he and Obi-Wan start arguing about political differences, religious beliefs, and whether it’s morally acceptable to murder hundreds if not thousands of people along the way to get there. Obi-Wan takes the valid stance of it not being cool, and makes it clear he’s going to fuck Anakin’s shit up for all his dark deeds. Anakin is eager for this because as said above, he’s riding high on FUBAR as a state of being and seeks the catharsis/validation of beating someone he can project all his problems onto. Thus, we get the baddest lightsaber duel there is, and you know the rest.
Now a lot of the time, people drag their knuckles about the line “Only a Sith deals in absolutes” and how it’s some kind of indicator of inherent Jedi hypocrisy or dramatic irony or George Lucas being a hack or what-fucking-have-you. I don’t really care because I think it's stupid, as Jocasta Nu illustrates for us here, and it’s not the point I want to make. Instead, I’d like to draw your attention to the line Obi-Wan drops before: “Anakin, my allegiance is to the Republic, to democracy!”
Nice delivery by Ewan aside, the meaning of this line is pretty clear: that Obi-Wan, in the face of Anakin flying completely and absolutely batshit off the handle into Divine-Right-of-Kings-For-Those-I-Love, is declaring himself an ally to the Republic and democracy specifically. That he is a very pro-democracy individual and considers it a part of the Republic. Which, cool, because Anakin is totally bugfuck nuts at this point and anything he believes in is probably bugfuck nuts as well so it’s smart to avoid it.
The thing is though, that Obi-Wan is wrong. Actually, he's not just wrong, he's speaking nonsense that is genuinely complete nonsense to hear from a Jedi in the Prequel Era Republic. Because let's recap a few details:
The Jedi Order of the Prequels inducts their initiates as infants or toddlers, with an aged nine Anakin being considered way too old. Now it's their prerogative to take students as they wish (though the thousand years of uniformity unsurprisingly severely backfires), but generally speaking, children under nine are learning things like what's acceptable to put in your mouth and how to read, write, and use the bathroom. The ability to choose "make me a Jedi for life" is genuinely nonexistent for them, so right off the bat, one of the basic democratic cornerstones is also nonexistent for them. It's also not like the Jedi are just Space Catholics/Buddhists: they are explicitly raised and taught to serve the (increasingly corrupt) Republic and its (gradually growing in obscenity until they have to violate their identities as peacekeepers) needs. The actual ability to choose for Jedi is already in the negative double digits.
And for whichever one of you that's breaking their keyboard typing about how Jedi can leave if they want, I'm already aware, thanks for nothing. The thing is that A.) the ability to be able to refuse to participate in something you did not actually sign up for is what I would consider the absolute bare minimum, B.) it doesn't change the part where they don't make the choice to join to begin with, and C.) given how Jedi are taken into the Order usually before they even begin forming concrete memories, we can probably assume that's the reason so few do. When you're raised in that environment for your entire life, the choice to leave is synonymous with abandoning everything you've ever known, which is pretty terrifying.
Moving on: in the Jedi Order, the positions of authority are broken up between the Grand Master (who leads the entire Jedi Order), the Master of the Jedi Order (who is the leaderepresentative officer of the Council), and the Jedi Council. Let's talk about how the buck of leadership is passed around these people, and how there's frighteningly little oversight for the vast majority of the Jedi. Pay attention to the bold words.
The Council is made up of twelve Jedi Masters, including the Grand Master and Master of the Order (this was Yoda and Mace respectively in the PT) who historically are the same person holding both titles. In ROTS, Anakin serves as the senate-appointed representative, an extreme breach of tradition and what sends the Council into dealing with Palpatine's dictatorship (long after the Chad Mace Windu had sobered up to his increasing power and the problems of the war in the EU). While there's no 13th chair made for him, it's never clarified who Anakin was replacing or why there was an open spot at the moment. Though we can probably assume it was due to a wartime event, like the previous Council member being violently executed with a planet full of civilians on the HoloNet by the Separatists as part of their terror campaigns a week ago, it ultimately doesn't matter because this isn't about him.
The twelve seats are split between five lifetime members, four long-term members (and the end to that term is entirely decided on what's the "approved end date", not an actual hard number), and three limited-term members (that limit is not stated). If a lifetime appointment member dies, then it's possible for a long-term member to succeed them or for the Council to choose another Jedi Master at their own discretion, and the long-and-short-term members can be elevated to another position in the Council and have their term extended. The Council, in addition to serving as the liasion between the Jedi and the Senate, are also responsible for deciding when Padawans have progressed to the point of being ready for the Trials to become a Jedi Knight.
(Before I get some wannabe trying to blast me in the comments for using supplementary material to make an argument, take a look at the lineup of the Council in the movies. In the ten year period between TPM and AOTC, there have been only two switches in membership (which in extended material usually involves both being killed), and the three year period after AOTC leading up to ROTS being a war makes it questionable whether term limits became a thing, or Council members just stepped down or got killed off. Not really ideal).
Now notice how, nowhere in the above, is there a "members of the Jedi Order vote for who should be on the Council" option. Even if you want to argue that there should be a qualification factor, like say, holding the rank of Master, that still leaves a large candidate pool open where the actual rank-and-file of the Jedi could decide who they wanted making decisions. We're talking about a group that's supposed to be at least 10,000 members strong at this point, I somehow believe there are enough people willing and capable of leadership given the opportunity. Let alone the idea of immutable, set term limits.
Instead, it's basically just Yoda (also: very telling that the dude who probably only missed a four digit lifespan due to an unholy amount of trauma and misery at the tail end of it is a key decision maker for everything) and a couple of other people (who very well might have similarly lengthy lifetimes on account of being aliens) holding onto power for insanely extended periods of time and selecting who else gets to hold on to power for insanely extended periods of time at the whims of this inner circle. This is obviously a little less than preferable for how leadership should be handled, and that's not even taking into account how the Council seems to be the only real governing body of the Jedi Order.
But let's sidestep how completely anti-democratic the Jedi Order is internally, and focus on its external agency. The Jedi, despite being members of the Republic and a key cornerstone of it as a government institution, are never shown able to participate in the Senate in any meaningful way, shape, or form, such as actually voting for senators to be representatives of any star system. Let me remind you, this is the same senate where megacorporations get to have their own seats, so we aren't exactly talking about a sacred and honorable institution here.
Even if you want to assume the Jedi wouldn't want to influence the elections of systems they technically aren't part of (because of the above-mentioned total removal from their homes and cultures to become Jedi), there's an enormous leap between that and the basic ability to vote for who you'll be taking orders from. Why can't the Jedi have a voice in the government when Space Exxon gets to have their own senator? Even if it's just something as basic as "participate in the vote for who will become Chancellor of the Republic", that would be A.) an enormous leap towards the Jedi Order getting to participate in a democracy, and B.) exercising the absolute bare minimum of power in the system they are part of and help uphold. Maybe if there had been Senatorial Representative Jedi Master Shii-Par Kewwll in the PT, they could have turned the vote against Palpatine in TPM! Or advised Jar Jar against giving Palpatine emergency powers in AOTC! But nah, we can't have the defenders of the Republic decide anything about how it operates, that's too much.
Actually though, scratch that, the Jedi wouldn't actually be participating in a democracy even if there was a Senatorial Representative Jedi Master Shii-Par Kewell. Because according to the Prequels worldbuilding, senators don't even have to actually be selected by the systems they represent. Let's look at Padme's case: She is supposed to represent the Chommel sector of the Republic, a system that holds about thirty-six different planets. You would imagine then, Padme had to be elected by all of them, or some other selective process, to act as their representative, no?
Nope. The only system we are ever informed of regarding the election of senators is that 1/36th of their constituency-in this case-their home planet's ruler-has them serve as the representative. Even if Padme is from Naboo, that doesn't make her part of the Queen's administration if she serves as the senator of the entire Chommel sector. The fact we only get one other named political representative for the Chommel sector in Jar Jar, who is representing the second species of Naboo, doesn't suggest much involvement from the other planets they are supposed to be serving.
Hell, Padme herself wasn’t even democratically elected if we go off her own account of Naboo’s post-TPM political history. After she served her second term as Queen, the population wanted to abolish term limits to keep her in power, which she refused to accept and the next Queen, Jamilla, was elected. Queen Jamilla then has Padme become their senator through the tried-and-true democratic process of…requesting her to serve. Nowhere is the mention of other candidates, an election, anything that isn’t just the monarch asking the previous monarch very nicely if she’ll take over the job for the entire sector.
It also bears noting that the only reason there is a current monarch that’s not Padme is because Padme refused to follow the people’s wishes, which were to break term limits on the monarchy for her to stay as Queen…which can be summarized as “one person making everyone else agree”. Now, that’s not to criticize Padme for preserving what shreds of legitimacy Naboo has as a government, but breaking term limits so someone can spend fifteen years total controlling policy is nuts. From fourteen to twenty-nine, Padme has massive control over Naboo’s politics, which is an insane amount of time even if people had wanted her to serve another term as Queen and presumably were all in on her being Senator as a result. Even if the people had wanted it, there not being a formal election means that this system is just begging to be abused. Wonder how Palpatine got his start, huh…
So to recap: if you’re a Jedi in the Prequels, you have been picked up from when you were very small to be raised in a system you will have no conceivable influence on at any point in your life. As part of that system, you are also taught to serve another system you will never have any conceivable influence over, and it’s very likely that the vast majority of the populace that make up that system don’t have any hope of conceivably influencing it either. This is the amount of agency you will have over your entire life, unless you decide “hey, I’m going to leave now, can I keep the lightsaber so I can fight off the wolves I’m being thrown to?”, which the Jedi at least have the good will to offer as an option in contrast to the Republic. Turns out that when Anakin’s starting to talk about authoritarianism in AOTC, he’s actually just telling Padme about how the Jedi and Republic operate as institutions, and how the daily life of the average member of both is just getting teabagged by everything ever. There was never any democracy to save in the Republic, the characters are all living in a shared delusion that cracks on an accelerated timeline when Palpatine starts his Sithma grindset, and the only solution was to send Anakin in with a flamethrower and let him cry himself out burning everything down, so the ashes could be used as soil and his tears as water to grow something better with.
I should probably be clear that I don’t get the sense much of this was intentional. Lucas often flip-flops in his BTS commentary about the Jedi, and that’s without getting into how it actually plays out in the stories he writes. Despite the Republic and Clone Wars being a deliberate criticism of America, a lot of the politics are muddied and not really fleshed out for the audience. The lack of interest in Padme as a character is clear for everyone to see, so it’s no surprise a lot of her story has more than a few headscratchers. I think it’s clear there’s a lot of stuff in the PT that wasn’t completely thought out or put together well, and this is another instance of such a thing occurring.
Ultimately to me, it doesn’t matter too much what that intent was. If your takeaway from the Prequels is that the Jedi and Republic were hopelessly fucked from the beginning and both systems needed to be entirely flipped on their heads to even begin to be democratic, all that matters is that you can back it up from within the films themselves, as I have done with the above. The point is, the Jedi and Republic were not soulfully democratic in any sense, their defenders and allies were not supporters of democracy as a result, and Obi-Wan took yet another L. It’s just how he rolls, gotta love that for him.
TL;DR: A lot of the ways the Jedi operate as an entity, and their dynamics with themselves, in service to the Republic, and outside parties as part of the Republic, makes far more sense when you read about how George Lucas considers them to be peacekeepers in the same way mafia dons are. Based Nute Gunray, dodging an offer he couldn’t refuse in TPM?
(Also if you come away from this post thinking it’s point was “OP is saying the Jedi are bad/evil” and I see that shit in the comments: you’re a moron. This post has sailed over your head. You have the same level of reading ability and intelligence as the Avatar movies do cultural impact. Go outside and touch the grass.)

Regardless of your personal opinion on Tuchel, Thomas Tuchel is respected amongst his peers. The managers are always monitoring the situations of other managers and seeing how they play out. Any manager who would be on Bayern's radar is also going to be on the radar of other large clubs in Europe, and those clubs are going to be willing to give more control over decision making around the club to the manager, which is not something they are going to get from Bayern.
What made the situation even worse for Bayern is the story that 80% of the dressing room came out in the support of keeping Tuchel, and Freund and Eberl were not able to make something happen. Yes it was very late in the season to finally have player get behind him, but nevertheless that moment that we had been waiting for had finally come. It really puts in to question what power do Freund and Eberl even have.
Managers and players alike have now seen that the upper management will not keep a manager around long enough to build something with the club, the manager will have little control over players that are brought in along with having management have an impact on the starting eleven and which position they play. Lastly in a bad season, Tuchel was able to walk away with the support and the trust of the dressing room lead by the Captain and the longest tenured player who has the respect of everyone in football. The external optics of Bayern are not good, and right now the manager job is not attractive to anyone.
The concerning part is the current players who were in favour of Tuchel staying with the main focus being Musiala. Many clubs in Europe are mostly likely preparing to poach Musiala from Bayern, and the players camp was in favour of Tuchel staying which would have been helpful to Bayern when it comes to locking up an extension. They have now opened the door to which ever team Tuchel signs with, along with other teams that can ensure consistency from a top tier manager. There are players who drawn in by managers, the same way Tuchel drew Paulinha, Kim, Kane, and Guierrero to Bayern. It becomes hard to attract players when they don't know who the manager is, or the confidence of knowing they will be working consistently with a manager to develop a strong system.
If the belief is that they are going to sign someone to a one year contract, just to go after Alonso, that will back fire as well. The instability in the club will not encourage Alonso to leave, why wouldn't he continue to win the Bundesliga while Bayern are still figuring things out, Leverkusen are going to be able to attract players, and funding that will allow them to sign bigger names, and retain their talent with better contracts.
Can bringing Flick back help, maybe but they would be putting the future on nostalgia and hoping that Flick would be able to regain his coaching form after a terrible run with the national team. Its a big risk to take and we arent even certain the Flick is interested in coming back given he knows he has no control and will receive the same treatment he had the last time he managed Bayern, there has been nothing that indicates anything will be different.
Firing Tuchel has set club back years.

I never thought I would have a story to share in one of these threads, but it finally happened. I apologize for the length (so long it has to be split into 2 parts), but this one is a doozy.
For the sake of telling the story a little smoother, I'm going to explain some things up front. I (female, early 30s; let's call me Molly) am the manager in the accounting office of a very small loan company. Like, really small. We have less than 30 offices with only 2 employees at each office. For this reason, we are kind of low-tech, old-fashioned. I'm talking paper timesheets that get faxed to our office (we're also the corporate office that handles the payroll). Our office hours are 8:30 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. with a half-hour lunch. Me & my employee (who we'll call Sally) work this shift. Our boss (who we'll call Greg) is the owner & CEO. He works in the office starting at 9:00 a.m. till whenever he leaves for the day. Most of the time, that's around the time we leave, sometimes it's earlier due to errands he needs to run.
So, in Oct 2022, Sally (female, early 30s) gave us a note that her doctor wants to have daily appointments with her indefinitely. She let us know she would need to leave at 3:30 every day. Greg granted that request & even gave her the opportunity to come in early so she didn't miss any of her 8 hours each day. So, she began coming to work between 6:45 & 7:00 & would take however long of a lunch she needed to so she would have an 8-hour day.
Due to a combination of our fiscal year-end work in Oct & Nov 2022, playing catch-up from Dec 2022 to Feb 2023, & the other coworker (who we'll call Irene) leaving the company in Feb 2023 so we had to play catch-up again for several months before we got used to the bigger workload, I hadn't been able to pay too close attention to Sally's work. But in the middle of Aug 2023, I began to suspect her. I realized that the tasks Sally had in the morning would usually take me an hour & a half to do, which meant I would be relatively finished by the time I would arrive at 8:30. Sally, on the other hand, would only have stuff halfway done. Now, I knew Sally worked slower than me since I knew the job better than she did, but this still seemed very slow. I began to suspect Sally was either not arriving as early as she said she was (she was the only one in the office before 8:30) or she was arriving on time but wasn't working.
On Aug 21 (Monday), I decided to come in early to the office since I had to make up time due to a doctor appointment later in the week. So, I arrived at work at 6:40. 6:45 rolled around...no Sally. 6:50...no Sally. 7:00...same thing. Sally arrived at 7:20. Now, ok, maybe she ran into traffic. However, that's a bit of a coincidence that the one day I show up early unannounced is also the day she happens to be late. But I waited to see what time Sally would write down on the timesheet. However, she didn't write down her time until Tuesday right before she left. She had written down that she had arrived at 7:05. I asked her about it, and her response was "I must have copied it down wrong from my spreadsheet." That's strange, 'cause you hadn't arrived at 7:05 any other day that week. Just where did you copy it down from?
Now, I am curious as to what time Sally puts down when she believes no one has seen what time she arrives. So, for Sept 4-15, I would arrive in the parking lot across the street & read a book & eat breakfast while I wait to see what time Sally would arrive. Every single day, she would arrive around 7:15 or 7:20, but would write down 6:45 or 6:50, a half hour discrepancy every single day. & we have no way of knowing how long she's been stealing a half hour every day. She could have been doing this for the past year since her schedule changed.
On Sept 18, I write down Sally's actual times from these 2 weeks on a paper & tell her to correct all the times I indicated. Sally says that she will use the office clock to write down her times from now on. Wait a minute, you're saying that your phone is a half hour earlier than the rest of the world? But only when you arrive at work. When you go to lunch & leave work, it matches the rest of the clocks. & then switches during the night so your arrival time can be wrong again the next day? Wow, that's a pretty glitchy phone you got there.
On Sept 20 after Sally left, I installed a camera that connects to an app in my phone. I put the camera in a place where it wouldn't be able to see any computers/paperwork & turned off the microphone (I didn't want to risk any company info being seen/heard). I only needed to see when Sally arrived. Where I ended up placing it, I was able to see Sally where she sat at her desk.
On three of the following days, Sally would arrive 10 to 15 minutes after the time she would write down. I speak with Greg about this, & we decide to write her up. By the way, usually when an employee is caught forging the timesheet like this, it's an immediate termination. At any other office, she would have gotten fired in the beginning of Sept after I first discovered the half hour forgery. I am deciding to give her a chance to make this whole thing right.
On Sept 26 (Tuesday), I give Sally the write up when she arrives.
Sally: I'll sign it, but I don't know why. I mean, I get here at 7:00. (Ok, there's a sign right there. Who signs an official write up when their employer is lying or setting them up?)
Me: I've observed you arriving between 7:10 & 7:15.
Sally reads the write up & then keeps it at her desk for a bit after signing it. After plenty of time, I ask for it back. She grabs it, so I lean forward & hold my hand out (our desks are right next to each other), but Sally flings it at my desk. The whole thing is made better by the fact that Greg is out of town Tuesday thru Thursday. So, Sally proceeds to be angry & have an attitude all the way through Thursday. She refuses to talk or answer the phones. She does that tossing/flicking-papers-around, aggressive-typing, heavily-setting-things-down thing people do when they're frustrated or angry (which she did all...day...long). She sped out of the parking lot & down the street so fast that I could hear her engine rev & tires squeal from inside the building.
On Sept 27 (Wednesday), Sally is still doing that slamming things thing. I enjoy not responding to her whatsoever. I could see out of the corner of my eye that she would slam something down & look at me. I wouldn't give any kind of reaction, wouldn't look at her, & it would piss her off. Sally would then start slamming things around again. I admit, that was fun.
On Sept 28 (Thursday), I see on the camera that Sally arrives at 7:00, but then I watch her sit on her phone for 45 minutes! She is still having attitude issues, &—unbelievably—is still slamming things. After she leaves for the day, I then see the calendar that Sally keeps on her desk as I was passing by. On the box for Sept 26 (the day she was written up), she had written the words "F***ING JOKE!". The audacity of her to write that in plain view of everyone in the office & think she wouldn't get in trouble for it.
On Sept 29 (Friday), Sally arrives at 7:00 but sits on her phone for 30 minutes WHILE VAPING! (Not sure about other cities or states, but it's illegal to smoke or vape inside a building in the city where our office is.) But Greg is back this day, & I had been texting him what's been going on. He had texted back he wanted to do a meeting on Friday. So, the 3 of us go into the breakroom for a meeting.
Greg: So, Sally, what's been going on with this timesheet thing?
Sally: I just, I forget to write down the time when I arrive.
Greg: Ok, well, whether it's done on purpose or through negligence, we can't have wrong times on the timesheet. So, from now on, you won't be able to come to work before Molly gets here at 8:30. Now, are there any other problems you'd like to discuss with us?
Sally: (begins getting worked up) I just, I feel like I can't talk to her. She creates such a hostile work environment.
Now, I am blown away. Me? Hostile? I'm autistic, so I'm naturally shy & hate socializing, so I usually don't talk to anyone very much. Everyone I tell this story to, their eyes widen when I mention this, 'cause there's no way anyone would ever describe me as hostile.
Luckily, Greg interrupts her to defend me: This isn't a hostile work environment.
Sally: (backpedaling) Well, I mean, she gets mad at her printer & bangs on it, & that just flashes me back to stuff. I mean, I'm trying to work on myself & the anxiety, & she just sends me back.
Oh, so now, we're claiming we have PTSD & that my "violent" actions are giving her flashbacks? Um, who is it laughing right along with me every time my printer jams? (By the way, I know she's lying about the PTSD, 'cause I have a couple friends with PTSD & recognize the signs. Sally doesn't show any sign of fear or panic or shrinking away from things, nothing like that. There are no signs whatsoever of her being alarmed by anything I do.) Oh, not to mention the double standards. You're allowed to slam things around (for 3 straight days, by the way), but I'm not?
Anyway, we wrap up the meeting after Greg underlines (for Sally's benefit) that everyone in the office needs to get along.
On Oct 2 (the next Monday), I had a good drive & happened to get there at 8:20. Sally arrives at 8:25 & comes in, stopping at my desk.
Sally: (annoyed) Are you gonna be early all week?
Me: (frowning & caught off-guard) Um, I don't know. It just depends how long my drive takes.
Sally: (with a snarky attitude) 'Cause I had to keep driving around waiting for you, so if you're gonna be early, I'd like to know.
Ok, first of all, no one is forcing you to drive around. You can park your car in the parking lot. Do you really think we're gonna fire you for sitting in the parking lot while you wait for me? We only said you couldn't come in & work before I do. & second, it's none of your business when I get to work. My shift starts at 8:30, therefore, you should aim for 8:30, just like Greg told you to do. How am I supposed to predict the exact minute I get to work? & you're gonna get angry at me 'cause I didn't show up before my shift starts? Since when is it a requirement of mine to come into work before I start working?
Well, a bit of malicious compliance in this entitled story: if I can see I'm going to arrive at work more than 5 minutes early, I stop at the store just down the road & shop until 8:30. 'Cause guess what? Sally gets there who knows how early & sits in the gas station across the street, waiting for me. Fine, you wanna be that way? I can be petty, too.
By the way, Sally has a radio talk show she listens to from before I get to work until it ends at 10:00. I'm not into talk shows, but it wasn't too annoying (most of the time), so I didn't say anything about it. The reason why I started having a problem listening to it was that they would get into inappropriate things (s** toy review, for example). It made me super uncomfortable when they did segments like this. From the moment Sally was written up, she started only listening to the show on her headphones, thinking she was punishing me by me not getting to hear the show. Joke's on her. Sally did me a favor by not having to listen to that thing.
Sally was also told that she is no longer allowed to take smoke breaks on the clock. As no one else in the office takes breaks but chooses to work through them, this change would be made so all employees were equal now. But here’s the interesting thing: Sally suddenly stopped taking smoke breaks at all, but her bathroom breaks grew more numerous & longer. When she had been taking smoke breaks, the alarm on her phone would go off at specific times, such as 2:00. She would then go outside to take her smoke break. After the on-the-clock-smoke-break privilege was taken away, the same alarms would go off, such as 2:00. She would then disappear to the bathroom for 15 minutes. & I even smelled smoke in there when I went in there right after one of these long bathroom breaks.
Ever since the write up, there’s been attitude every once in a while. Most of the time, I have no idea what it is I did that could possibly have set her off that day. All I know is that Sally’s suddenly slamming things around again (hmm, PTSD cured now, is it?). & she’s still constantly making mistakes (like she’s always done).
On Nov 27, Sally is working on the Funding (loan proceeds funded onto a customer’s debit card). What we do is get the list of customers, determine how much the office funded that customer, transfer the money from the office’s bank account to the holding account, & then transfer the total from the holding account to the account that directly funds the debit cards to replenish the money. We had two customers with similar names (say, John Smith & Jack Smith). Sally hadn’t paid attention to the whole name & had applied John’s $0 funding to Jack. However, Jack had been funded $250. So, that money was missed, & I had to make a separate transfer for it.
On Dec 4, Sally is working on the Funding & writes down $0 for a customer. But the report from the office says he actually got $96.
On Dec 8 & 9, we discovered 2 checks that were supposed to be sent to our office (one from Oct, one from Sept). Neither had been cashed, & neither had ever reached us, even though we had the rest of the paperwork that would have come with those checks. Due to the dots I had connected, I had a pretty strong hunch that Sally wasn’t thoroughly checking the mail envelopes to make sure they’d been completely emptied before they got thrown away. I believed these checks were still in some envelopes that were then thrown away by Sally.
On Dec 11, on the bank reconciliation sheets we work at the end of the month (like balancing a checkbook), one of Sally’s offices was out of balance by $68, & she couldn’t find it. I couldn’t find it, either. I pulled out the one done for the month before. I couldn’t find it there, either. But I did notice one thing. The checks that hadn’t cleared the bank yet didn’t add up to the total amount of outstanding checks Sally had written down. By $68. I go back to the month before that one. There were a total of $68 in old checks that never got cashed & therefore should have gotten written off on the fiscal year-end at the end of Oct. But she hadn’t transferred them to the new month’s sheet. So, now, we have to hold onto them for a whole year to write off next Oct.
The same day, I went through all the offices to double check the GL codes that we post the expense checks to (GL codes determine where an expense gets coded, e.g., post an electricity payment to the GL code for utilities). The day previously, Sally had gotten several GL codes incorrect in the Miller office. She had forgotten to change the codes from the one for the Checkbook to the ones for the expense account. She had caught those ones since it affected the balance of the Checkbook, so I had helped her fix those properly. However, there were expense checks sent to a GL code that wasn’t the right one that Sally hadn’t caught.
I talk with Greg, as I feel that every time I turn around, I am either retraining Sally on stuff I’ve trained her on multiple times, I’m correcting mistakes on stuff Sally should know how to do by now (‘cause again, I’ve trained her multiple times), or I’m disciplining Sally about stuff she’s doing wrong. Greg asks how many mistakes due to carelessness she’s made in the last 2 weeks. I check my notes & tell him 4. He says that’s too excessive for an accounting office. We need to write her up.
So, I made the write up, but I just know I’m going to be dealing with the same attitude as the last time I had to write her up. & guess what? Greg’s out of town till Thursday again. I used my phone this time to record the audio of the interaction. That way, if Sally has attitude towards me again, I’m able to play the recording to Greg so he can hear what Sally’s like when he’s not here (which is why the following conversation is pretty much word for word).
On Dec 12 (Tuesday), I sat her down first thing.
Me: So, in the past couple weeks, I’ve noticed some errors happening due to carelessness, & they’ve become a bit excessive for an accounting office. The most important thing in an accounting office is accuracy. That’s why we focus so much on thoroughness & attention to detail. So, whatever needs to happen to lessen those errors, whether it’s slowing the pace of the work itself or double & triple-checking the work before it’s finished, it needs to happen. For example, when I work the payroll, after I get the total for all the offices, I then subtract each person’s individual hours to double check my entries. That way, if there is an error, at least I know it wasn’t ‘cause I was going too fast or not paying attention or something. So, whatever you need to do to decrease the mistakes, please—
Sally: What errors are we talking about?
Me: I have a page here with the items from the last couple weeks. (hand her the write up)
Sally: (reads the pages for a minute) Ok…
Me: So, whatever you need to do to—
Sally: (talking quickly ‘cause she’s pissed now) I’m gonna need more time & focus strictly on Funding. I don’t wanna touch mail, I don’t wanna touch anything else. I wanna focus strictly on that. ‘Cause I’m getting 80 plus a day (which was a lie, we never get nearly that much), & now, I’m gonna start getting in trouble if it’s not 110%. I am human. I will make mistakes. So, if that’s not allowed, then…(shrugs) let me know, I guess. I’ll talk to Greg & I guess figure something out. I am human, & I am gonna make mistakes, A. B, I feel like crap. He (Greg) has been in here sick the last week. I caught whatever he has. I’ve been hacking. I’ve been sicker than sh** the last week. I am trying. You guys usually have until the 12th to close the month. Since I’ve worked here, I’ve closed before the 8th. Yeah, I made mistakes. I told you I made a mistake on the Miller office. I knew what happened. So, to throw it in my face again that I already made that mistake is kinda rude, but…(shrugs) I’m actually kinda shocked to see that on there.
Me: Well, you did catch the errors involving the Checkbook, but there were other mistakes on that office that you didn’t catch, & that’s the reason that was listed on there.
Sally goes back to her work, & I decide to not ask her to sign the write up I had given her right away since she was diving right into the Funding. She had expressed she wanted to focus solely on it to minimize mistakes. I wanted to use positive reinforcement to convey that this was good behavior & good thinking, so I decided to wait for her to finish before asking her to sign & return the write up.
Now, here’s the issues with her little outburst above.

1. Sally is complaining that she’s human & makes mistakes & we’re not allowing mistakes. We’re not saying that she can’t make mistakes, ‘cause she’s right. Everyone makes mistakes; I make mistakes. What we’re saying is that she’s making mistakes much too often.
   
2. Sally says the reason for these mistakes the last 2 weeks is ‘cause she’s been sick the last week or so ‘cause she caught what Greg had (do you see the timing problem there?). Also, these kinds of mistakes have been happening for months & months. I only brought these examples up ‘cause they were recent.
   
3. Sally pointed out the fact that she closes each month really quick. We don’t care how fast things get done. Our goal isn’t to get things done quickly but to get things done accurately. If we happen to get it done quickly, that’s just a bonus. We would rather things go slow than to have errors causing problems or costing us money ‘cause we didn’t take the time to make sure it was correct.
   
4. Sally states it’s rude that I’m throwing her error back in her face (you already know my reaction to that). She obviously doesn’t know how a job works. Just ‘cause we discussed this error already doesn’t mean it can’t go on the write up. This is just one of the examples that required us to do a write up. We’re not doing this ‘cause we want to write you up or that we’re looking for excuses to get you in trouble. We’re doing our job. If a situation needs correcting, we have to correct it. We can’t just ignore it. & obviously, me talking about your errors all these months hasn’t helped. You’re still making the same mistakes. So, now, we’ve had to escalate to a write up on paper.
   

Sally doesn’t say another word. She, as expected, starts doing her tossing-things-‘cause-I’m-pissed-off thing. I just go back to my work. I’ve said my piece, now we can put it behind us & move on.
Now, we have until 10:30 to make the transfers for this Funding program in order to get the money back to the account the same day. We are still missing the paperwork for 2 customers from an office. (FYI, when we’re missing paperwork, we call the office & ask them to fax it. If we still don’t get it when it gets close to the transfer deadline, we call again & just ask for the amount to get it done.) So, at 10:20, Sally turns to me.
Sally: What do I do for these 2 customers? Do I just skip them?
Me: (frowning) Do what you usually do when you don’t have the paperwork in time. Call the office—
Sally: (in a sharp tone) I did. (she’s assuming I mean call the office to tell them to fax it)
Me: (ignoring her attitude outburst) Call up the office & ask for the dollar amounts.
Sally: But I don’t want to write down the amount without seeing the actual paperwork. If I’m gonna get in trouble for errors now, I don’t want to take down what could be the wrong dollar amount over the phone. I mean, I think that’s only fair to me.
Me: In the instances that were mentioned, they weren’t cases of taking down an amount over the phone. They were instances where we had paperwork or a report to see the amount. We would never write you up if there was a possibility that the office gave you the wrong amount over the phone.
Sally stares at me for a second & turns back to her desk. I turn back to my own work as Sally then calls up the office. I had to deal with her attitude the rest of the day: throwing mail into the mailbox, throwing open the letter folding machine so it made a big bang on the table. I was trying to still be the usual friendly, professional person I am at work; I told her “See you tomorrow” & everything. Sally wouldn’t talk to me unless she had to.
This is when I discovered that Sally has a habit of lashing out at me when she gets in trouble. The first write up involved her trying to drag me under the bus by claiming I’m hostile. This time, it was more personal. See, we do a Christmas gift exchange at the office; we each buy each other a gift. I had searched over & over trying to find something Sally would like. I finally found this desk calendar with gnomes on it (she likes both of these things), so I got it & a couple small items. I open my gift from Sally, & among a few cheap little things, I found…Sally’s own nearly empty bottle of nail polish remover. Wow, this is the thanks I get for not firing you back in Sept with the whole timesheet forgery thing?
& this is where I leave you until Part 2, the conclusion.

Please be literate, descriptive and over the age of 18 (preferebly 24+) There was a mixup with the paperwork and our characters end up as roommates in college. If you have any questions or if you're interested in this plot, feel free to send me a message.
The young man named Aaron walked down the bustling college campus, he couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through his veins. This was the beginning of a next chapter in his life, where he aimed to meet new people and to learn a vast majority of knowledge from his teachers. With each step he took towards his new dorm room, his heart pounded with anticipation, and his mind raced with thoughts of what lay ahead.
Eventually, he reached the building that housed his dormitory. As he entered the hallway, the smell of fresh paint hit his nostrils, a sure sign of recent renovations. The walls were adorned with motivational quotes and colorful posters, creating an inviting atmosphere for the students. With his backpack slung over his shoulder, he followed the directions on the piece of paper that one of the faculty members gave to him.
Arriving at room 202, he paused outside the door for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he inserted the key into the lock and slowly turned it. With a gentle click, the door swung open, revealing his new sanctuary for the next academic year.
Aaron stepped into the room and was impressed with how clean and organized the room was. The room was comprised of two single beds tucked against opposite walls, each defined by their own corner. A large, sturdy wooden desk sat against the window, which gave off a lot of natural light that streamed through the slightly dusty glass panes.
Taking a moment to scan the space, he noticed the pristine white walls, no doubt most people would cover these bare walls with posters and pictures to give the room more personality. There was also two spacious closets, complete with sliding doors that would accommodate all his belongings.
His phone began to vibrate loudly in his back pocket. No doubt one of his friends was texting him to come see their dorm room. Aaron stuffed his hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone to respond to his friends text message.
"Hey, have you seen your dorm room yet?! They are awesome, aren't they? You should come over to mine."
"Can't. I'm still unpacking."
"Still?! You're so slow, Aaron. Text me when you're done and we'll go cause some havoc in the school."
"lol"
Aaron tossed his phone onto one of the beds. He noticed the meticulously made twin-sized mattresses, adorned with fresh sheets and fluffy pillows. Thankfully the beds were comfortable, almost as comfortable as his own bed back home.
His gaze then shifted towards the large window, framing a picturesque view of the campus. From here, he would witness countless sunrises and sunsets, changing seasons, and the ebb and flow of campus life. He imagined himself sitting there, coffee in hand, taking a moment to appreciate the beauty and serenity that each day would bring.
From outside his dorm room he heard the footsteps of someone coming closer and closer. Aaron assumed that this individual was most likely going to be his roommate for this school year. He didn't want to just awkwardly stand in the middle of the room when they walked in so he began to empty out the contents of his backpack onto his bed.

This is will show all the events with some updates to the present, so if you already know it all you don't need to read it.
OPENWORLD
The Start (1948-1989)
In 1948, the Soviet union was searching for a good island, until one day a group of fishers living at the coast of Russia, the fishers reported it to their local government, this started a small expedition of the island by Soviet scouts.
Eventually the Soviets purposed this island to be a "good" island for a possible American invasion of Alaska, Canada, Mainland USA, and maybe even some small islands in the pacific. The USSR first built a fort on a smaller island next to the large island, which they named Fort Ronograd, which is how the island got its name, then the USSR built a huge port near the fort, and made a city which was supposed to be a part of the Fort to inhabit the soilders, and their wifes, but it was later purposed as a normal city to house normal people.
In 1962, a U2 spy plane heading to main land Russia, from Alaska discovered a large island with a lot of activity, this was not normal as the USA never found any islands there, and confirmed that the Soviets were inhabiting a new island, the United States feared another missile crisis, so for now the Air Force and the CIA kept shut.
Meanwhile the Soviets did some tomfoolery ( Kafala System ) , and started putting Nuclear Weapons to the island. Then they build another city ( Sochronia City ) to house the incoming immigrants going into the island, multiple other settlements were also made ( Village ), then the Soviets made a quarry so people can be employed, and a Nuclear Energy Facility for once again employement.
So now the Soviets were like " Holy Moly, we can actually make this island effective, so they made a large Broadcasting station on the highest point on the island, to contact the Kremlin much more easily.
In 1966 Global Defense Alliance was formed for the manufacturing of clothing.
So the USA was like panicking right now, as they found out that the USSR had put nuclear weapons on the island, and where in range of Alaska, and Washington State, due to this president Nixon ordered a naval blockade by a Aircraft Carrier near the island, for an attempt to stop shipments going to the island. Right now the Soviets were pissed, so they were like " USA we will take our nukes away, but you guys stop a naval blockade on our supplies ", then the USA was like " Alright fine, but only unless we can still patrol the island, to ensure you guys don't bring nukes ", then the USSR was like " Yeah sure- " and then the Americans were like " Oh yeah, and we have to search all your ships ".
The deal was signed by both sides, and we lived happily ever af-
Uh oh, it looks like the Soviet Union collapsed, oh what a shame.
In 1989 Apex Precision was formed as a clothing producer.
The uprising (1990- 2013)
After the USSR collapsed, the new Russian government took over, and they were the problem
You see, a lot of the people living there, were soilders recruited by the USSR, and they were like, " Uh uh, you guys are not controlling us, we will remain communist ", so what happened is that these soilders created a group, to attempt to liberate themselves.
in the year 1992, a PMC was formed called Non-Tactical.
Meet the POD, a terrorist group originating from Sacramento, California. This organization is made up of agents, that were either fired from their jobs, went rogue, or just didn't like their country, These agents were from intelligence agencies like , the CIA, MI6, and much more.
So the RLF caught the attention of the POD, and they were like " RLF do you guys want independence? " and they were like " Hell yes ", and the POD was like " We can help you guys"
Eventually the RLF made a deal with the POD that they will supply, and help them revolt against Russia.
But secretly, the POD were using the RLF, because they had a plan to make a nuke filled with chemical agents (ICBM) , and then launch it to New York, because the island was just in range, and this is because the Soviets left behind multiple silos, that were abandoned.
Enter the year 2000, and that is the year when the Russians built a manmade island, that was a designated Airport, and Military Airbase. Before that everything was either supplied with boats, or small aircraft landing on airfields.
In the year 2004, multiple attacks were done, as other terror attacks, Russian Forces have put up with this and declared Martial Law in Ronograd, which saw Russian Army Personnel patrolling Ronograd, and its multiple cities.
In 2013, a large attack made by the RLF, and POD was seen on the FOB, which caused the base to fall to POD and RLF hands, Russian Forces retreated, and contacted the Aircraft Carrier which they almost never contacted.
A group of Russian Spetznaz stationed on the island, and Navy SEALS from the Aircraft Carrier were formed, and called themselves the " Shadow Warriors ", these volunteers were put on the legendary Operation Shadow Raid, and took the FOB back from the RLF, and POD.
Later a UN conference was held in Prague, Czech Republic, the conference ended in the making of a coalition named Platinum Five, which was a Task Force, built up of multiple armies around the world, and some Special Forces.
After these events, in 2023 a bunker was found with a possible silo, which was found from enemy intel.
The Bad Ending:
The Bad ending resulted in the launch of the ICBM.
The Good Ending:
The Good ending resulted in the ICBM being disarmed.
Raid/Ranked Mode:
Its pretty self-explanatory, the country of your choice takes down a POD outpost in the Middle-East.
Multiplayer:
A fight between POD and Platinum Five forces fighting around the world.

I was encouraged to post this by Tarpy. Originally I posted it under the Experiencers sub. **
I want to start off by saying that, I'm not upset or mad at the experience. It was pretty informative and in-depth, from my point of view.
I went to bed with the intention of remembering my dreams/lucidity and even asked my spiritual patron to help me remember. The addage " be careful what you ask" certainly applies. I remember coming to in this what felt like underground base, kissing this girl next to me on this bed/table(?). And I was like wtf, and she goes "we're not supposed to be awake". I take the opportunity to look around at my surroundings and I see a sign that catches my eye across the room labled "Birthing Rooms". I think think to myself, what exactly is being cared for in that area?
Anyway, I remember fighting this anesthesia pretty hard so I could get a better look around and remember. The girl was very sweet but didn't want to be there and neither did I. We were both naked but neither of us were in the mood. So all I could think to do was wrap my arms around her and comfort her as best I could. She ended up falling asleep.
A little time passed and this male tech/nurse comes over and he goes "it looks like she fell asleep" and told me to get up, called me my first name and everything. He was very nice by the way, and he goes "it looks like you've had your back sliced open" (I've had back problems most of my life) and seemed to care how I was doing. All I could answer whenever he asked a question was 'mhmm'.
Anyway he told me not to touch him and l guess looked over my back. We started to walk down this ramp towards a shower area and goes "tell them that something went wrong with the procedure" and led me to an open shower stall. There was this guard sitting there, I guess to make sure no one flipped out or something. Had a badge and everything. He seemed like this was pretty routine and was pretty chill.
The male tech hands me this blue gel in this round plastic bottle and tells me to scrub with it really good to get all the bacteria and such off. Apparently I only had 15 minutes to do so. In my half awake state I stumbled over to the other shower stall and got the water running and made sure it was at the temperature I liked.
Next this I remember I was being escorted over to a row of computers with chairs pulled out. Metal folding chairs to be exact. They wanted me to take a survey on my experience (what?) and I sat sideways on the chair and then adjusted it. There was a pulldown option for how I was spiritually aligned (?) and the option read "Shadow Born - A dislike for the Light), so being an Occultist I was like "oh they know me" and chose that one. I don't remember much beyond that.
I will say the 'dream' felt very familiar. I had done this before and I casually knew the tech guy and the guard who watched me shower.
Anyway, I woke up in my bed, on my side with my boyfriend still asleep next to me. My brain wants to rationalize it as a dream, since I still have my socks on from when I went to bed.
I guess I'm looking for feedback and heck, if it wasn't a dream, tech guy or whoever monitors me (tinfoil hat) , feel free to reach out. I debated on even posting this, since I'm not sure if I'm even supposed to remember.
Like I said, I'm not upset but could really use some answers. I'd also like to point out that yesterday was my 42nd birthday. So, maybe that was something important too?

G'day guys,
I hope everyone is doing really good and having fun with their lives. The support and love of the community has brought us to almost 65k members. Some of you might have noticed some new names in the mod list for the past few days and I'm happy to announce the new mod team.
Congratulate the new mods joining the team and I look forward to work with all of them:

• u/Agreeable-Gur69
• u/LinearArray
• u/Peevee_
• u/wornoutcxnverse
• u/i-m-meg05
• u/Suspicious-Tooth-93
• u/HR_114

Now towards the fun part, it has been a recent ritual of ours to have a lil AMA with the mod team when announcing some new mods so you guys are welcome to ask questions, if your question are to some particular mod, ping them in the comments and they should be able to respond to you as soon as they can.
Apart from all that we would love to have some feedback about how you feel about the sub and it's future too, I will now be signing off and hope everyone has a great day ahead!
Regards,
u/_quAsar04