When I was in my twenties it was common to have a house party and around 1 or 2AM the police would show up and tell you to turn it down. I thought this sort of thing still happened.
This weekend a flat opposite me had a rager of a party, all doors and windows open. I called their building manager and they told me to call the non emergency police number. The police said they no longer deal with noice complaints and it all goes through local councils now.
Southwark council told me they would send someone round to have a listen. Around 2.30AM someone from the council turned up and said they would have to come into my property and needed full access to gauge the level of the sound. This conversation happened on the street in raised voices because the party was so loud.
They also told me since the party was in a block of flats there was no way to know the flat number and no way to gain entry so there was probably nothing they could do.
I’ve never heard of such a thing. I didn’t want to let them into my home so they just left. What is going on?

Below you will find a weekly reminder of our Rules and partial FAQ. It's definitely a long read, but it's worth your time, especially if you are new to the community, or dropping by as a result of a link you found elsewhere. We periodically revise our rules, this weekly notice will help keep you informed of any changes made.
NOTE: These rules are guidelines. Some moderation discretion is to be expected.

Community Rules

1. Kindness Matters

Advise, don't criticize.

• Post with empathy, thoughtfulness, and constructive commentary rather than judgment. Don't be an asshole.
• Name-calling, slurs (including gender or race based slurs), and insults towards other community members will not be tolerated. Do not attack others for their personally held values, custody situation, marital status, physical distance from stepkids, or economic status; or on the basis of race, sex, sexual orientation, age, religion, or ethnicity.
• No name-calling toward children, including the above-mentioned insults or the term "skids", or terms such as "mini-wife" or "mini-husband."
• Comments advocating spanking or any mention of wanting to harm children are not allowed.
• This is a support sub, not a judgement sub, assholes are not tolerated. Comments with terms used in other subs to pass judgement on assholes will be removed.

2. No Drama

This is a support sub.

• Bickering, nitpicking, and thread derailment will not be tolerated and will be subject to removal at moderator discretion.
• Do not repeatedly badger a poster demanding answers, or refuse to acknowledge an answer that's already been given.
• Do not use sensitive issues from past posts (either from this sub or other subs) to attack another user, as we are all discussing vulnerable topics.
• Crossposting anything from /stepparents to any other subreddit might result in a ban and may result in the original thread being locked. Brigading our sub will result in an immediate ban.

3. Report, Don’t Rant

No backseat modding.

• If you see someone breaking the rules, report the post or comment to the mods rather than engaging them in an argument. Failure to do so may be subject to comment removal at moderator discretion.
• No meta posts complaining about rude comments, DMs, or general sub issues.
• If you think someone is a troll or previously banned user, either use the report function or message the mods to direct their attention to the issue.

4. No Naming & Shaming

No userpings or links.

• Tagging/pinging users or other subreddits in an attempt to bully, harass, or complain will not be tolerated. Do not tag other subs, ever.
• If you want to complain about another subreddit being hostile to stepparents, do not name the subreddit. "Other parenting/advice/judgement subs" will suffice.

5. No Platitudes

Nobody knew what they were getting into.

• Comments like "You knew what you were getting into", "Love them, love their kids!", "They're a package deal!" and "You have to love them like your own!" will be removed.
• Comments suggesting that OP is not cut out for stepparenting will be removed at moderator discretion.
• Comments like "This is just a part of parenting, deal with it!" will be removed at moderator discretion.

6. No Trolling

We have zero tolerance for trolls.

• This is a support sub. Our subscribers do not have the time, nor inclination, to provide support to internet trolls. Posts that are suspected to be trolling attempts will be immediately removed, and the poster banned.
• Concern trolling, devil's advocating, gish-galloping, sealioning, and general asshattery are subject to immediate removal and banning without warning or notice.
• Any attempt to circumvent the ban by creating a new username will be reported to reddit admins and possibly result in account suspension.

7. No Personally Identifiable Information

Use discretion when posting.

• We highly recommend using a separate account for support subs to help prevent being doxxed. Do not post any information that may allow others to figure out your identity.
• Do not post photos of children, or any other photo that could be used to identify you or another user on the sub.
• Any image that contains a name or other identifying information should have the name or identifying information blurred out. This includes drawings, notes, and screenshots.
• Do not link to social media or any articles/blogs where you or another user on the sub is mentioned by name.

8. No More than 2 Posts per 24 hours

Use the daily threads.

• We are not a huge sub, but we are no longer a small sub. If you have multiple grievances to air, use the daily discussion threads instead of multiple posts.

9. Follow Reddiquette

Remember the human.

• Adhere to the same standards of behavior online that you follow in real life.
• Read it in full here.
• Downvoting is reserved for comments that don’t contribute, and shouldn't be used to indicate disagreement.
• If you believe someone is in violation of the subreddit rules, please either use the report function or message the mods to direct their attention to the issue.
• Suspected brigading will be reported to reddit admins.

10. No Porn, Spam, Blogs, or Research Studies/Surveys Without Mod Approval

Just don't.

• This is a SFW subreddit. Posting pornography will result in immediate post removal and permanent ban.
• Advertising on the subreddit (outside of Reddit's own advertising) is not allowed.
• No personal blog posts are allowed without express moderator permission.
• No advertising without prior mod approval.
• No asking for money/posting fundraisers/etc.
• For links to parenting research studies or surveys, please message the mods for permission before posting.

11. Disputes in Modmail Only

Don't argue with the mods on the sub.

• Any issues specifically related to how a mod is moderating should be addressed to the full moderating team via mod mail. This ensures that all mods are aware of any concerns and prevents disintegration of the topic thread at hand.
• This means to do not message or send chat requests to individual mods. All discussion and complaints about mod actions need to be done in mod mail ONLY. Failure to follow this rule can result in an immediate permanent ban.
• Comments in threads asking about mod decisions are subject to removal without notice.

12. Moderator Actions

We aren't kidding.

• Users are expected to know the rules before posting. If you are warned or banned for violating the rules, ignorance is not an excuse.
• Moderators will remove posts and comments and/or lock threads in accordance with the rules above. Typically this happens when threads have gone off-topic in a way that is not productive for the OP, or comments overall have become contentious or disrespectful.
• If a poster continues to argue or to willfully violate these rules, temporary and permanent ban procedures will be followed. Any attempts to avoid or bypass temporary bans will result in a permanent ban. User bans will not be discussed in the sub. Questions posted about user bans are subject to removal and the poster subject to warning/ban procedures. The mod team will not discuss a specific user ban with anyone other than the user involved.
• New accounts are subject to manual approval until they are no longer deemed "new" by the mod team. This helps to weed out trolls and ban evaders.
• We rely on Automoderator to scan for specific words and phrases that are not welcome here and notify the mod team to review the comment or post. This includes slurs of any type and platitudes such as "Love them as your own!"
• The mod team uses a combination of blacklisting and banning when dealing with trolls.
• We employ the use of a bot that automatically bans anyone who comments in subs that have historically harassed our users. If you are picked up by the bot for telling trolls to get fucked, reach out via mod mail and we'll get you sorted out.
• The rules above as well as ban procedures are considered guidelines only; some deviation may be necessary on a case by case basis and/or at the mod team's discretion.

13. Ban Procedure

These actions are at moderator discretion.

• Pornography will result in an automatic permanent ban.
• Extremely egregious content will result in an immediate permanent ban.
• You may receive a 7 or 30 day temporary ban for first and second rule violations, depending upon severity.
• Continued rule violations will result in a permanent ban.
• Willful attempts to avoid or bypass temporary bans will result in a permanent ban.
• We recognize the reddit site-wide rules of using alt names to get around bans and will ban those as well as report them to reddit admins.

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FAQ - About the Rules

What does Kindness Matters mean?

• Shortest version? Don't be an asshole. People come here for support and advice, they do not come here to be yelled at or told they are the reason everything is going sideways. There are ways to point out that someone may want to do some reflection on their own actions and reactions without being an asshole about it.
• The purpose of this subreddit is to provide support and a sense of belonging for struggling stepparents. We aren't here to pass judgement, but rather to offer support, empathy, and constructive commentary. That does not include "hard truths" or "tough love." Stepparents get enough of that in every other subreddit, we're not passing it out here. Be respectful.
• Remember, most people aren't going to come to a sub like this when everything is going great and everyone is getting along. People are coming here when they are down, when they are feeling defeated and stretched to the limit. Kicking someone when they are down is shitty behavior and we don't tolerate it.

What about being kind to the kids?

• "Won't somebody think of the children?" Pearl clutching isn't needed here. If you read the Kindness Matters rule closely, you will see that there is a clause in there about name calling children. We don't allow it. We also don't allow people rolling in telling OP that they feel sorry for their stepkids because OP is feeling overwhelmed and overloaded.
• If anyone is advocating slapping, spanking, or any other form of violence, report the comment immediately. We do not advocate violence towards children of any sort. The mod team does not advocate any sort of physical punishment at any time.
• Venting about behaviors is not the same as insulting the kids. However, if you see a post or comment where kids are being name called or dragged to the point of no return, use the report button. We try to catch the posts and remove them before they hit the sub, but we cannot see every comment without your help. Use the report button to bring problematic comments to our attention. Don't engage in a war of words on our subreddit.

Why is this sub such an echo chamber?

• Not allowing contributors to pile on and tell OP that they are a terrible human being who should never be around children does not equate to being an echo chamber. Many contributors here will offer OP suggestions to help them work through their resentments and frustrations, and the most egregious situations are called out. We simply ask that it be called out with respect.
• If you feel that a post is simply too much for you to handle without following the rules, move on to another post.
• If you believe that a post itself is crossing the rules report it. If the mod team has approved the post, it is because the mod team believes that the OP needs help from the community or needs a moment to vent and move on from their vent. That does not give you license to pile on disrespectfully. Unless it is proven that OP is a bot, assume that OP is a human being with real thoughts and feelings and has posted from a place of vulnerability.

Why can't I tell OP that they are an asshole?

• Because this isn't a judgement sub. We aren't AITA, we don't want to be AITA.
• Comments with terms like YTA, NTA, ESH, NAH will be removed.
• Don't start your posts with INFO either. We generally recognize that as a fishing attempt for more information to pass judgement on OP, and again, we are not a judgment sub.

But OP asked if they were an asshole?!

• Their post somehow got past our automoderator. Just use the report button. We will address it with OP.
• If you've asked if you are an asshole, a-hole, a*hole, a**hole, whatever, don't be surprised if your post is removed without warning. This isn't a judgment sub. If you want judgment, you know where to go.

What is a gendered slur?

• While it seems that everyone understands what racist slurs are, people struggle understanding the concept of gendered slurs. Generally speaking, we are talking about derogatory nouns or verbs that are used to negatively describe people or situations based on gendered terms.
• We've gone back and forth on this a few times, and the truth is, we get it, it's your safe space and you want to be able to vent about BM/BD how you want to vent about them, without us telling you how to vent about them. Fair enough. Vent away. What we are going to stick to here how people are referring to other users and to stepchildren.
• Examples that are not allowed:
  • "My SD is such a little bitch."
  • "She dresses/acts like a slut."
  • "My SS acts like a pussy."
  • "My SS is such a beta male."
  • "You are all fucking whores."
  • "Any dude who is raising some sluts kids is a cuck!"
  • "Little Lord Fauntleroy over here thinking he runs the house!"
  • "You're just the bangnanny, get used to it."
• Don't call users here names, don't call stepchildren names.
• Masking the term with asterisks or other neat little tricks might get you around the bot, but if we see it, we're removing it and quite possibly giving you a time out. The intended word is still there and you deliberately tried to skate the rule.
• As there is not enough space to list every term that is offensive and does not belong, nor every situation in which term or phrase may be allowable in context, this rule is enforced based on moderator discretion.

Seriously? You are the language police now?

• We're here to talk about stepparenting. And we would like for that to happen in a respectful way. Attacking each other doesn't help. Belittling stepchildren draws in trolls who don't understand your frustration, all they see is an evil stepmonster talking shit on the internet about a poor, innocent baby. Yes, even if that "poor, innocent baby" just robbed you blind and set fire to the house on their way out the door. That's just how it goes.
• We are aware that this is a relatively new rule and a lot of older posts and comments contain a lot of problematic language, including some from mods themselves. We are growing and evolving, and rules change as the sub grows and evolves.

What does No Drama really mean?

• Pretty much what it says, do not bring drama from other subs into this sub. Do not engage in vote brigades. Do not try to incite other subscribers to riot in a different sub. Don't follow posters into this sub from other subs to continue to harass them. Do not badger someone or derail threads. Do not harass community members because you don't agree with them. There's enough drama in the daily lives of subscribers, more isn't needed.

What is thread derailment?

• When a comment chain has devolved to the point where all you are doing is arguing back and forth with someone about the same thing over and over again, you have derailed the thread. Also known as bickering. It's what children do. We assume if people are in a stepparent role they are adults. We expect you to act like it.
• If you aren't a stepparent, or in a stepparenting role, consider that perhaps this subreddit isn't for you. If you want to participate, do so with respect. Thread derailment, arguing, bickering, and nitpicking are not allowed.

But what if they didn't answer my question?

• No one has to answer your questions. This is a support sub, not an inquisition. Jumping on a bandwagon with "OP is evading the question" in a 20 comment long chain is the epitome of thread derailment. You'll find more information about trolling below and how this might be considered such.

Why am I being silenced? I'm just asking for a back and forth!

• Thread derailment, badgering, and nitpicking are considered harassment. Continued harassment of either community members or mods will get you banned.

Why can't I look at someone's post history and comment about it?

• No mod in the history of this sub has ever once said post histories are forbidden. What we do frown upon is using someone's post history to attack, belittle, or otherwise harass someone.
• Example Post: "My stepkid's mom really hates me. How can I make this better?"
  • Okay: "Based on the timeline and your post history, it looks like this may have started as an affair. Unfortunately there's going to be outstanding issues for a long time due to that. Try focusing on yourself and how you can move forward without worrying about how someone else feels about you."
  • Not Okay: "Holy shit! You were the OW! What the hell do you expect, homewrecker?!"
• Example Post: "I am completely overloaded and feeling very down about myself."
  • Okay: "In your post history you mentioned that your spouse wasn't really helping around the house. Has that changed at all?"
  • Not Okay: "LOL, you already got the answers you need in your post on relationships. You are stupid for sticking with your lazy spouse."

Why can't we crosspost stuff to other subs?

• We can't stop you from doing so. The problem isn't that something has been crossposted, it's when the community that it's been crossposted to feels the need to come over here and harass OP. When we see that happening, we lock the post and start passing out bans. If you did the crossposting, you'll be banned. If you participated in the brigading, you'll be banned.

What if it's my own post?

• Again, we can't stop you from doing so. We prefer that you don't technically crosspost, but rather just copy and paste your post. Why? Because inevitably the above will happen. Redditors from other subs will follow you back to /stepparents and start attacking users here. It just happens.

What is "brigading"?

• Reddit defines vote manipulation and brigading as follows:
• Using multiple accounts, voting services, or any other software to increase or decrease vote scores.
• Asking people to vote up or down certain posts, either on Reddit itself or through social networks, messaging, etc. for personal gain.
• Forming or joining a group that votes together, either on a specific post, a user's posts, posts from a domain, etc.
• We, along with pretty much every other subreddit that has ever had to deal with this nonsense, further define brigading as this: You saw a post on another sub that linked to our sub either via a link in a comment or a crosspost. It was basically saying something along the lines of "OMG, check out these assholes over on /stepparents! They literally hate all their stepkids!" And then you and your friends come over and start hammering on OP and telling OP how much they suck. Congrats, you have just participated in a brigade.

What is this whole Report, Don't Rant thing about?

• If you see a post or comment that breaks the rules, instead of engaging, report it. When you report it, it sends notification to the mod team. We will act on it where appropriate. Engaging with bad faith users may result in your comments being removed. If you repeatedly do so, you may end up being banned.

What if I see an obvious troll?

• Report it.

What if they are being really mean in comments?

• Report it.

What if they are harassing me in private messages?

• Step 1: Report them to admins. You can report harassment to reddit by using this link or send a DM to reddit admins. Include the link to the DM, admins can see your inbox and providing a direct link is helpful for them to weed out bad actors.
• Step 2: Block the person so they cannot directly contact you again.
• Step 3: Send us a mod mail and let the mod team know. Tell us who they are and what they said, send us a screenshot if you can - admins can see your DMs, mods can't. We'll take action where necessary by banning from the sub if they aren't already banned.

What do you mean by No Naming & Shaming?

• Just as we prefer to not be linked to or crossposted from, we do not allow linking to or calling out other subs by name. If you see something you want to share, say it's a hot post that has hit the front page and a stepparent is being absolutely flayed, just refer to it as "that hot post that hit the front page." If you want to complain about other places in general, "other parenting/advice/judgement subs" will suffice. Absolutely under no circumstances should you link to anywhere else.

I can't link to other subs?

• Do not directly link to another sub. (e.g.: "/insertsubnamehere is ridiculously hostile to stepparents!")
• Do not name other subs. (e.g.: "I won't link to it directly, but insertsubnamehere is ridiculously hostile to stepparents!")
• Do not abbreviate other subs. (e.g.: "I know that ISNH is ridiculously hostile to stepparents!")

I can't ping other users?

• Do not summon another user with a username ping/tag. (e.g.: "insertusernamehere was being an asshole.")
• If you are agreeing with someone, it is okay to link to them. (e.g.: "I agree with insertusernamehere, you need to take a couple of steps back and reflect on this.")

What does No Platitudes mean?

• Sanctimonious, overused clichés that grossly oversimplify the stepparenting experience are neither wanted nor allowed here. We have all heard it a thousand times before, we don't need to hear it again. It's not nearly as insightful and wise as some would like to think.

Why don't you people understand it's a package deal?

• Any comment that suggests that OP should have known what they were getting involved with, or that they needed to understand that the kids were part of some package they needed to accept before signing up for marriage is subject to immediate removal.
• This is one of the most insensitive things you can say to a stepparent. Most stepparents were aware of the children, but they were probably not aware of all of the family dynamics.

Why can't you just love them like they are your own?

• Demanding that a stranger you do not know love children that are not biologically theirs as if they were theirs can be incredibly damaging to someone who is already in a vulnerable situation. Any comment that falls along these lines will be removed.

What do you mean by No Trolling? I was just...

• No means no. No trolling. No pretending to be a stepparent and then whipping out the Greatest Hits Bingo Card of The Worst Stepparent in the History of Stepparents. We see you. We've seen you a thousand times.

What does "concern trolling", "gish-galloping", and "sealioning" have to do with stepparenting? This isn't a debate sub, why are you using debate terms?

• That's absolutely right, this isn't a debate sub. And yet, here we are, day after day, having to defend ourselves against this sort of thing. So, enough. No more. Usage of any of these things will get you banned.

What is "Concern Trolling?"

• A concern troll is someone who disingenuously visits sites of an opposing ideology to disrupt conversation by offering unwanted advice on how to solve problems which do not really exist.
  • Example Post: OP expresses concern that she will feel, and possibly act, differently towards her stepchildren after her husband decides that no, he doesn't want anymore children after all.
  • Example Concern Troll pulled from actual mod mail after their comment was removed: "Possible child abuse claims need to be sorted out well before whatever empathy you believe the OP was looking for."

What is a "Devil's Advocate"?

• "I'm just playing devil's advocate here, but have you considered that maybe BM is just really tired and needs a break, too?" BM has dozens of different mom based subs alone on reddit she can complain on, this sub is for stepparents. The stepparent doesn't need to consider that maybe BM is just really tired and needs a break.

"Gish-galloping?" What does that even mean?

• The Gish Gallop is the fallacious debate tactic of drowning your opponent in a flood of individually-weak arguments in order to prevent rebuttal of the whole argument collection without great effort. The Gish Gallop is a conveyor belt-fed version of the on the spot fallacy, as it's unreasonable for anyone to have a well-composed answer immediately available to every argument present in the Gallop.

And "sealioning?" What's that?

• Sealioning involves jumping into a conversation with endless polite, reasonable questions and demands for answers, usually of entry-level topics far below the actual conversation (e.g. "please prove sexism exists"). This tactic differs little from harassment; instead of discussion, the point is to derail discussion, receive criticism (for their ignorance) so as to look like a victim, or to make someone feel overwhelmed and quit talking.

Who gets to define what is considered asshattery?

• The mod team, of course! If we feel that comments are out of line, are trolling, are leading up to a fight or "just asking questions", we are going to remove them and most likely ban the offender.

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FAQ - Sub Questions

Posting Guidelines for Stepparents

• Body text is required, we suggest you use line breaks between paragraphs as a wall of text is difficult to read. Posts that have only a title are likely to be removed. Instead of using names (even fictitious ones), try to use the sub acronyms. It helps our users to follow along if you use the acronyms and not names.
• Assign a post flair that accurately describes what your post is about and what you are seeking. If you are posting an update from a previous post, include a link to that post.
• Flairs are applied to posts to determine what a person is looking for. When submitting a new post, you should choose a flair that specifies if you are looking for advice, support, etc. The following link flair is available and is color coded with side bar links so that you can search by flair:
  • Advice - For when you are specifically asking for advice or help.
  • Announcement - Mod Use Only, for subreddit announcements.
  • Daily (Formerly TTP) - Mod Use Only, for our daily discussion threads.
  • Discussion - A little advice, a little "How does your family handle this?"
  • JustBMThings - Pretty sure this is self explanatory!
  • Legal - Asking for legal advice? Tag it with this!
  • Miscellany - Just a sort of off topic thing? Use this tag.
  • Resource - Sharing a good resource or asking for one? This is the tag you need!
  • Support - For those days when you want nothing but a good old fashioned cry and some community love.
  • Update - Updating us on something that you posted about previously? Use this one!
  • Vent - We all need to vent sometimes. Respect the tag as a vent. This isn't how OP talks all day every day.
  • Win! - Celebrate those wins with us with this tag!
  • Megathread - Mod Use Only, for large mega threads (typically around major calendar events.)

Posting Guidelines for Bioparents

• Stepparents is a support community for stepparents, by stepparents. As bioparents, you may want to have more insight into how the stepparent in your life feels or thinks. You may have questions on how to ease the transition for your partner. However, please keep in mind that this community was not created for you. It was created for your partner or your ex's partner. If you are seeking support on how to deal with a stepparent, there are other subs more suited for your situation and your post is subject to removal.
• There are some posts from bioparents we will accept:
  • Seeking advice on how to support your partner as they navigate stepparenting
  • Seeking resources to help you better support your partner
  • Seeking resources for your partner
• There are some posts from bioparents we will not accept:
  • Complaints about how the stepparent is too involved in your kids lives
  • Vents about how the stepparent is not involved enough in your kids lives
  • "Cautionary tales" advising stepparents to back off
  • Seeking advice on how to tell the stepparent to back off
  • The Do's and Dont's of Stepparenting
  • How your kid's stepmom is literally The Worst
• Comments from bioparents that are helpful and supportive are welcome and appreciated. Comments from bioparents that are not helpful or supportive are not welcome and subject to removal. There are several other subs that may meet the needs of bioparents better than we can. We recommend /coparenting, /parenting, /parents, /blendedfamilies, and /singleparents as starting points.

Guidelines for Stepkids

• At this time, we do not generally accept posts from stepkids. Comments from stepkids that are helpful and supportive are welcome and appreciated. Comments from stepkids that are not helpful or supportive are not welcome and subject to removal. If you are a stepkid seeking support, we highly recommend /stepkids. It is a very supportive community specifically for stepkids. We also recommend /blendedfamilies as another potential group for support.

What the heck are all these acronyms? I'm confused!

• Check out the Common Acronyms wiki page. We try to keep this updated as new terms are introduced to the sub.

Why aren't my posts or comments showing up?

• New posters and accounts go through a waiting period before their posts will show in the sub and the comments on posts automatically. During the new account approval period the mod team will check posts to be sure you aren't attempting to circumvent a ban with a shiny new account. Please be patient while the timer runs down on your "new" status and the mod team approves your posts and responses.

Why was my comment removed?

• Comments are removed when they do not follow the rules of the sub. These rules are published in several places for your reading pleasure.
• Comments are removed at moderator discretion. In some cases your comment may be removed while another remains up. If you find this to be the case, and you believe the comment to be violating the rules, instead of arguing with mods or demanding they remove the additional comments, just report it.

This comment/post is really offensive! Why is it still up?

• All moderators are volunteers and have busy real lives. Sometimes things get past us. The best thing you can do is report anything you find offensive or inflammatory. It's the quickest and most reliable way of alerting us to an issue.

I've received a hurtful/unwanted PM from someone about my recent post. What should I do?

• If you receive an unwanted/hurtful PM from a name you don't recognize, please report it to Reddit Admins using our handy pre-populated form. Be sure to include the permalink to the message. We've been dealing with a few unhappy folks who like to attack stepparents, and reporting it to the admins is the only way to make it stop.

What are the general moderator guidelines?

• Users are expected to know the rules before posting. If you are warned or banned for violating the rules, ignorance is not an excuse.
• Moderators will remove posts and comments and/or lock threads in accordance with the rules above. Typically this happens when threads have gone off-topic in a way that is not productive for the OP, or comments overall have become contentious or disrespectful.
• If a poster continues to argue or to willfully violate these rules, temporary and permanent ban procedures will be followed. Any attempts to avoid or bypass temporary bans will result in a permanent ban. User bans will not be discussed in the sub. Questions posted about user bans are subject to removal and the poster subject to warning/ban procedures. The mod team will not discuss a specific user ban with anyone other than the user involved.
• New accounts are subject to manual approval until they are no longer deemed "new" by the mod team. This helps to weed out trolls and ban evaders.
• We rely on Automoderator to scan for specific words and phrases that are not welcome here and notify the mod team to review the comment or post. This includes slurs of any type and platitudes such as "Love them as your own!"
• The mod team uses a combination of blacklisting and banning when dealing with trolls.
• We employ the use of a bot that automatically bans anyone who comments in subs that have historically harassed our users. If you are picked up by the bot for telling trolls to get fucked, reach out via mod mail and we'll get you sorted out.
• The rules above as well as ban procedures are considered guidelines only; some deviation may be necessary on a case by case basis and/or at the mod team's discretion.

I've been wrongly banned/Why can't I comment here?

• Due to an influx of harassment from users with specific user histories, we have employed a user history ban bot as described above. If you think this has affected you and wish to appeal, please message the mods.

Why was I banned without warning?

• There are numerous reasons that the mod team might opt to move perm banning without warning. Message the moderators if you have specific questions.

Hi everyone,
I'm looking for some realistic advice and insights on my current job search situation in Shanghai. Here’s a bit about my background and what I’m facing:
My Background:

• Nationality: EU citizen
• Education: Studied in the UK for 5 years. I hold a BSc in Computer Science (First-class Honours) and an MSc in Advanced Computer Science (Merit).
• Experience: 3+ years in software development:
  • 2 years at a private company
  • 1 year at a government research agency working on control software for particle accelerators
  • All work experience was before & during my undergrad and postgrad studies (all full-time: office, remote, and placement year).
• Relevant Languages: Fluent in English (though not a native speaker), very limited Mandarin.

Visa Situation:

• Looking to stay in Shanghai for around 2 years.
• My passport doesn't allow long-stay multi-entry L visas. I’ve managed to get a 60-day single-entry L visa before (considered rare for my passport), but I’ve been told by the visa people that I can’t stay longer than 6 months within a 12-month period using short-term L visas.
• Therefore, I need to secure a work (Z) visa or, as a last resort, an X1 student visa (though scholarship applications for this year seem to be closed).

Job Search Efforts:

• Applied to over 200 jobs at 100+ companies (multinationals, domestic companies, schools, etc.) in the past 2 months.
• Used multiple job platforms: LinkedIn, Indeed, GlassDoor, LaowaiCarrer, eChinaCities, HiredChina, SmartShanghai, LiePin (猎聘), and ZhiLianTuiTui (智联推推).
• Applied to a variety of positions: software-related, IT and tech support, CS/Programming & ESL teaching, customer support call centers, SEO optimization, QA/Localisation, marketing, various internships, etc.
• I've been open and flexible in my job search, willing to make sacrifices in career progression for roles I may be overqualified for or not directly related to my background.

Challenges:

• Multinationals seem to only need seniors or team leads with many more years of experience and have, for the most part, ghosted me.
• Expat websites are flooded with listings for teaching jobs that have good benefits and (frustratingly) loose requirements but require native English speakers.
• Many English-related jobs (localization, proofreading, digital content creation, translation QA, user research, etc.) inexplicably require native English speakers. Despite being able to excel in these roles and achieve a high IELTS/TOEFL score if needed, I am deemed unqualified solely due to my passport.
• HR on Chinese job boards have shown a lot of interest in me, but most Chinese companies don’t seem to be currently hiring international talent.

Current Plan:

• Planning to stay in Shanghai later this year for as long as my tourist visa allows, to continue job hunting in person. I am hoping that this will simplify the process and improve my chances. I will have, at most, 3 months on my L visa.
• If during that time I still don't manage to secure work, I really won't know what else to do, as I may not be issued another L visa.

My Question:
I'm currently in a bind. With my background and qualifications, finding a good programming job in Europe wouldn't be too difficult. However, in Shanghai, it's been so challenging to find any job, even those I'm grossly overqualified for, no matter how much I lower my standards regarding career progression and compensation. Although I could find a remote job, that wouldn't solve my visa issue.
Given my qualifications and experience, what are the realistic chances of finding any job in Shanghai that provides a livable wage and normal work hours? Any advice on navigating the job market or improving my odds would be greatly appreciated. Has anyone been in a similar situation or have insights on making this work?
Thank you!

The old family home stood at the edge of town, its once grand facade now weathered and worn by time. The town's whispers about the house had reached my ears many times throughout my childhood, but I had never given them much thought. Now, standing before the creaking gate that led to the overgrown path, I felt an inexplicable urge to discover the truth.
I had inherited the house after my great-uncle Nathaniel passed away, a man I barely knew but whose presence seemed to linger in every corner. The dusty heirlooms and musty bookshelves hinted at a long and storied history. It was a history I intended to uncover.
The first few days were uneventful. I spent my time clearing out cobwebs and sorting through old papers, most of which were mundane—bills, letters, old photographs. But then, tucked away in a hidden compartment of Nathaniel's desk, I found a bundle of letters tied with a faded red ribbon. The letters were old, the paper yellowed and brittle. They were addressed to my great-grandmother, Beatrice, from someone named Arthur.
The letters spoke of forbidden love, betrayal, and a pact made in desperation. Arthur's words grew increasingly frantic as he described a dark secret shared by the family—a secret that, if revealed, would bring ruin upon them all. My curiosity piqued, I read on, unable to tear myself away.
One letter in particular stood out. Dated December 3, 1923, it detailed a horrific event: a fire that had claimed the lives of several townspeople. Arthur confessed to starting the fire, claiming it was necessary to protect the family from something far worse. He mentioned a cult, dark rituals, and a promise made to an entity he referred to only as "the Shadow."
The more I read, the more I felt an unsettling presence in the house. Shadows seemed to move on their own, and whispers echoed through the halls at night. Determined to understand, I ventured into the basement, where Nathaniel's journals hinted at more hidden secrets.
The basement was damp and cold, the air thick with mildew. Shelves lined with jars of strange substances and dusty books filled the room. At the far end, behind an old trunk, I found a small door. It creaked open to reveal a narrow staircase leading further down into darkness.
With a flashlight in hand, I descended, my heart pounding in my chest. The air grew colder with each step, and a sense of dread settled over me. At the bottom, I found a chamber filled with symbols carved into the stone walls. In the center was an altar, stained with what I could only hope was old wax.
As I examined the room, I found more letters, these from Nathaniel to someone named Margaret. They described rituals performed to keep the Shadow at bay, sacrifices made to ensure the family's prosperity. Nathaniel's last entry was a chilling plea for forgiveness, confessing that he had failed to uphold the pact and that the Shadow was coming for him.
Suddenly, the flashlight flickered and went out. Panic set in as I fumbled to turn it back on. When the light returned, I saw them—figures standing in the shadows, their eyes glowing with an unnatural light. They whispered in unison, a low chant that sent shivers down my spine.
"Blood of the betrayer," they intoned. "Blood of the guilty."
I tried to run, but my legs felt like lead. The figures closed in, their hands cold as ice as they grabbed me. I struggled, but it was no use. They dragged me to the altar, their chanting growing louder.
As they forced me down, I realized the truth: my family had been protecting a dark secret for generations, a secret that had now claimed me. The last thing I saw was a figure stepping out of the shadows, its eyes filled with malevolent glee.
The pain was sudden and all-consuming. My scream echoed through the chamber, blending with the chants. And then, there was nothing but darkness.
The house stood silent once more, its secrets buried deep within its walls. The townspeople still whispered about the old family home, but no one dared to venture inside. They said the shadows moved on their own, and at night, if you listened closely, you could still hear the whispers of the past.
Years passed, and the house remained untouched, a dark mark on the edge of town. Then, one evening, a young couple, unaware of the house’s history, moved in. They had bought the property cheaply, charmed by its antique allure.
Their first night in the house was uneventful. They laughed, unpacked, and made plans to renovate. But as the clock struck midnight, the atmosphere changed. The house seemed to come alive with a malevolent energy. The husband, Peter, heard a faint whispering. At first, he dismissed it as the wind, but the whispers grew louder, forming words.
"Blood of the betrayer... Blood of the guilty..."
He followed the sound to the basement, where the narrow door stood ajar. Against his better judgment, he descended the stairs. The flashlight flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The chamber at the bottom was as I had left it, but now there was something new—a fresh inscription on the altar: "He who seeks shall find."
Peter turned to leave, but the shadows moved. Figures emerged, their eyes glowing with the same unnatural light. He screamed for help, but the basement door slammed shut, trapping him inside.
Upstairs, his wife, Emily, heard his screams and rushed to the basement door, but it wouldn't budge. She pounded on it, calling his name, but the house seemed to swallow her cries. Desperation set in, and she ran to the phone, dialing the police.
The police arrived quickly, but as they approached the house, they felt an unnatural chill. Inside, they found Emily, frantic and pale. She led them to the basement, but when they opened the door, the chamber was empty. There was no sign of Peter.
Days turned into weeks, and Peter was never found. Emily moved out, leaving the house abandoned once more. The townspeople spoke of the curse, of the family’s dark past, and warned newcomers to stay away.
But the house never stayed empty for long. Curiosity drew people in, and one by one, they disappeared, claimed by the shadows. The whispers continued, a never-ending chant of betrayal and guilt.
One stormy night, a group of ghost hunters arrived, eager to uncover the house's secrets. They set up their equipment, cameras rolling, as they ventured into the basement. The air was thick with tension, the shadows seemed to watch, waiting.
As they explored the chamber, the leader of the group, Sam, found the old letters. He read them aloud, his voice trembling. The whispers grew louder, the shadows closing in.
"Blood of the betrayer... Blood of the guilty..."
The cameras captured everything—the figures emerging from the darkness, the screams, the terror. But when the footage was reviewed, all that was visible was the empty basement, silent and still. The hunters were never seen again.
Years passed, and the house remained a dark legend. No one dared to enter, the whispers and shadows a constant warning. And yet, on moonless nights, the townspeople could see faint lights flickering in the windows, hear the faint whispers carried on the wind.
It was said that the house was a gateway, a place where the past and present intertwined, where the sins of the ancestors demanded atonement. Those who entered were lost, their souls trapped in a never-ending cycle of horror.
Then, one day, a young historian named James arrived in town. He was fascinated by the stories and determined to uncover the truth. Despite the warnings, he entered the house, armed with his knowledge and a sense of purpose.
He found the letters, the journals, the hidden chamber. But as he delved deeper, he uncovered something no one had seen before—a final letter from Nathaniel, hidden behind a loose brick. It spoke of a ritual to break the curse, to free the trapped souls.
With renewed hope, James prepared for the ritual, following the instructions meticulously. As he began, the house seemed to tremble, the shadows stirring violently. The whispers grew to a deafening roar, but he pressed on.
The final step required a sacrifice, a willing soul to take the place of the cursed. As James completed the ritual, he felt a searing pain. The shadows enveloped him, but he continued to chant the final words.
Suddenly, the whispers stopped. The shadows receded, and the house fell silent. The townspeople, watching from a distance, saw the lights go out and heard a final, blood-curdling scream.
The next morning, they found the house empty. The letters and journals were gone, the chamber sealed. James was never seen again, but the curse seemed to have lifted. The house stood silent, no longer a source of fear.
Years later, the house was sold and renovated. Families moved in and out, but the dark history remained a distant memory. The whispers and shadows were gone, but on stormy nights, the faint echoes of the past could still be heard, a reminder of the darkness that once lurked within.
And so, the legend of the old family home became a story told to children, a cautionary tale of curiosity and the consequences of uncovering secrets best left buried. But some say that on the darkest nights, if you listen closely, you can still hear the faint whisper: "Blood of the betrayer... Blood of the guilty..."

I’ve always hated the smell of gun oil. It clings to everything it touches, soaking deep into the fibers of my clothes, the lining of my backpack, the coarse hair on the back of my hands. Yet here I am, kneeling on the cracked linoleum of our mudroom, a Remington .308 laid across my thighs, and the stench of gun oil sharp in my nostrils. The early morning light barely scratches at the edges of the blinds, dim and gray like the belly of a dead fish.
My dad Frank is in the kitchen, clattering around with the coffeepot and mumbling under his breath. Today we’re heading up to the woods of Northern Michigan, same as we did every year before Leah… before we lost her.
I can’t help but feel the old scars throbbing as I load bullets into the magazine. It’s been ten years since that hunting trip, the one that tore my family into before and after. Before, when Leah's laughter was a constant soundtrack to our lives; after, when every silence was filled with her absence.
We were just kids back then. I was ten, Leah was eight. It was supposed to be a typical hunting trip, one of those bonding experiences Dad was always talking about. But things went wrong. We got separated from Dad somehow. One minute we were following him, the next we were lost, the dense woods closing in around us.
Dad says when he found me, I was huddled under a fallen tree, my eyes wide, my body frozen. All I could mutter through chattering teeth was "Dogman."
It was only later, after the search parties had combed through every thicket and hollow, that they found her. What remained of Leah was barely recognizable, the evidence of a brutal mauling undeniable. The authorities concluded it was likely a bear attack, but Dad... he never accepted that explanation. He had seen the tracks, too large and oddly shaped for any bear.
As I load another round, the memory flashes, unbidden and unwelcome. Large, hairy clawed hands reaching out towards us, impossibly big, grotesque in their form. Yet, the rest of the creature eludes me, a shadow just beyond the edge of my recall, leaving me with nothing but fragmented terrors and Leah’s haunting, echoing screams. My mind blocked most of it out, a self-defense mechanism, I guess.
For years after that day, sleep was a battleground. I'd wake up in strange places—kitchen floor, backyard, even at the edge of the nearby creek. My therapist said it was my mind's way of trying to resolve the unresolved, to wander back through the woods searching for Leah. But all I found in those sleepless nights was a deeper sense of loss.
It took time, a lot of therapy, and patience I didn't know I had, but the sleepwalking did eventually stop. I guess I started to find some semblance of peace.
I have mostly moved on with my life. The fragmentary memories of that day are still there, lurking in the corners of my mind, but they don’t dominate my thoughts like they used to. I just finished my sophomore year at Michigan State, majoring in Environmental Science.
As for Dad, the loss of Leah broke him. He became a shell of himself. It destroyed his marriage with Mom. He blamed himself for letting us out of his sight, for not protecting Leah. His life took on a single, consuming focus: finding the creature that killed her. He read every book, every article on cryptids and unexplained phenomena. He mapped sightings, connected dots across blurry photos and shaky testimonies of the Dogman.
But as the tenth anniversary of Leah’s death approaches, Dad's obsession has grown more intense. He’s started staying up late, poring over his maps and notes, muttering to himself about patterns and cycles. He’s convinced that the dogman reappears every ten years, and this is our window of opportunity to finally hunt it down.
I’m not nearly as convinced. The whole dogman thing seems like a coping mechanism, a way for Dad to channel his guilt and grief into something tangible, something he can fight against. But I decided to tag along on this trip, partly to keep an eye on him, partly because a small part of me hopes that maybe, just maybe, we’ll find some kind of closure out there in the woods.
I finish loading the rifle and set it aside, standing up to stretch my legs. I wipe my greasy hands on an old rag, trying to get rid of the smell. The early morning light is starting to seep into the room, casting long shadows across the floor.
Dad comes out of the kitchen with two thermoses of coffee in hand. His eyes are bleary and tired.
“You ready, Ryan?” he asks, handing me a thermos, his voice rough from too many sleepless nights.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I reply, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
We load our gear into the truck, the weight of our supplies and weapons a physical reminder of the burden we carry. The drive from Lansing across the Lower Peninsula is long and quiet, the silence between us filled with unspoken memories and unresolved grief.
—
The drive north is a blur of highway lines and the dull hum of the engine. I drift off, the landscape outside blending into a haze. In my sleep, fragments of that day with Leah replay like scattered pieces of a puzzle. I see her smile, the way she tugged at my sleeve, eager to explore. The sunlight filters through the trees in sharp, jagged streaks.
Then, the memory shifts—darker, disjointed. Leah's voice echoes, a playful laugh turning into a scream that pierces the air. The crunch of leaves underfoot as something heavy moves through the underbrush. I see a shadow, large and looming, not quite fitting the shapes of any creature I know.
Then, something darker creeps into the dream, something I’ve never allowed myself to remember clearly.
Before I can see what it is I wake up with a start as the truck jerks slightly on a rough patch of road. Dad glances over. "Bad dream?" he asks. I nod, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, the remnants of the dream clinging to me like the cold.
"Yeah, just... thinking about Leah," I manage to say.
As we drive, Dad attempts to bridge the silence with small talk. He asks about my finals, my plans for the summer, anything to keep the conversation going. His voice carries a forced cheerfulness, but it’s clear his heart isn’t in it. I respond when necessary, my answers brief, my gaze fixed on the passing scenery.
The landscape changes as we head further north, from flat expanses to rolling hills dotted with dense patches of forest. It's beautiful country, the kind that reminds you how vast and wild Michigan can be, but today it just feels oppressive, like it’s closing in on us.
—
We finally arrive at the cabin, nestled deep in the woods, its weathered wood blending seamlessly with the surrounding trees. The place hasn't changed much since the last time I was here—a relic from another time, filled with the echoes of our past. I can still see Leah running around the porch, her laughter ringing out into the forest.
Dad parks the truck, and we step out into the crisp air. The smell of pine and damp earth fills my nostrils. We start unloading our gear, the tension between us palpable.
“Let’s get this inside,” Dad says, his voice gruff as he hefts a duffel bag onto his shoulder.
I nod, grabbing my own bag and following him to the cabin. Inside, it’s a mix of old and new—the same rustic furniture, but with new hunting gear and maps strewn across the table. Dad’s obsession is evident in every corner of the room, a constant reminder of why we’re here.
As we unpack, we exchange strained attempts at normalcy. He talks about the latest cryptid sightings he’s read about, his eyes lighting up with a fervor that both worries and saddens me.
“Did you hear about the sighting up near Alpena?” he asks, laying out his maps on the table.
“Yeah, you mentioned it,” I reply, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “Do you really think there’s something to it?”
Dad’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of doubt. But it’s quickly replaced by grim determination. “I have to believe it, Ryan. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
We finish unpacking, the silence between us growing heavier with each passing minute. I step outside to clear my head, the cool air a welcome relief. The sun is starting to set, casting long shadows across the clearing. I can’t shake the feeling of unease.
"You can take the upstairs room," Dad mutters. His voice is strained, trying to sound normal, but it's clear the weight of the past is heavy on him. I nod, hauling my backpack up the creaking stairs to the small bedroom that I used to share with Leah. The room feels smaller now, or maybe I've just grown too much since those innocent days.
I unpack silently, setting my things aside. The bed is stiff and cold under my touch. As I settle in, I can't help but glance at the corner where Leah and I would huddle together, whispering secrets and making plans for adventures that would never happen. I push the thoughts away, focusing on the practicalities of unpacking.
After settling in, I go back downstairs to find Dad loading up a backpack with supplies for our hunt. The intensity in his eyes is palpable, his hands moving with practiced precision. I know this routine; it's one he's perfected over countless solo trips since that fateful day.
"We'll head out early," he says, not looking up from his task. "Gotta make the most of the daylight."
I nod, though unease curls in my stomach. I'm not just worried about what we might find—or not find—out there. I'm worried about him. Each year, the obsession seems to carve him out a bit more, leaving less of the Dad I knew.
—
The morning air is sharp with the scent of pine and wet earth as Dad and I head into the deeper parts of the forest. The terrain is rugged, familiar in its untamed beauty, but there’s a tension between us that makes the landscape feel alien. Dad moves with a purposeful stride, his eyes scanning the woods around us. Every snap of a twig, every rustle in the underbrush seems to draw his attention. He’s on edge, and it puts me on edge too.
As we walk, my mind drifts back to that day ten years ago. I can almost hear Leah’s voice echoing through the trees, her high-pitched call as she darted ahead, "Catch me, Ryan!" I remember how the sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dancing shadows on the ground. Those memories are so vivid, so tangible, it feels like I could just turn a corner and see her there, waiting for us.
Dad suddenly stops and kneels, examining the ground. He points out a set of tracks that are too large for a deer, with an unusual gait pattern. "It’s been here, Ry. I’m telling you, it’s close," he whispers, a mixture of excitement and something darker in his voice. I nod, though I’m not sure what to believe. Part of me wants to dismiss it all as grief-fueled obsession, but another part, the part that heard Leah's scream and saw something monstrous in the woods that day, isn’t so sure.
As we continue, Dad's comments become increasingly cryptic. "You know, they say the dogman moves in cycles, drawn to certain places, certain times. Like it’s tied to the land itself," he muses, more to himself than to me. His fixation on the creature has always been intense, but now it borders on mania.
We set up a makeshift blind near a clearing where Dad insists the creature will pass. Hours drag by with little to see but the occasional bird or distant deer.
The sun rises higher in the sky, casting long, slender shadows through the dense canopy. I shift uncomfortably in my spot, the forest floor hard and unyielding beneath me. My eyes dart between the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of something, anything, to break the monotony. Dad, on the other hand, remains steadfast, his gaze fixed on the treeline as if he can will the dogman into existence by sheer force of will.
A bird chirps nearby, startling me. I sigh and adjust my grip on the rifle. I glance over at Dad.
“Anything?” I ask, more out of boredom than genuine curiosity.
“Not yet,” he replies, his voice tight. “But it’s out there. I know it.”
I nod, even though I’m not sure I believe him. The forest seems too quiet, too still. Maybe we’re chasing ghosts.
As the sun begins its descent, the forest is bathed in a warm, golden light. The air cools, and a breeze rustles the leaves. I shiver, more from anticipation than the cold. The long hours of sitting and waiting are starting to wear on me.
“Let’s call it a day for now,” Dad says finally, his voice heavy with disappointment. “We’ll head back to the cabin, get some rest, and try again tomorrow.”
I stand and stretch, feeling the stiffness in my muscles. We pack up our gear in silence and start the trek back to the cabin. The walk is long and quiet, the only sounds are the crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant calls of birds settling in for the night.
—
Dinner is a quiet affair, both of us lost in our thoughts. I try to make small talk, asking Dad about his plans for tomorrow, but it feels forced. We clean up in silence.
After dinner, I retreat to the small bedroom. The fatigue from the day's hike has settled into my bones, but sleep still feels like a distant hope. I lie down, staring at the ceiling, the room cloaked in darkness save for the sliver of moonlight creeping through the window. Downstairs, I hear the faint sound of Dad moving around, likely unable to sleep himself.
I drift into sleep, but it's not restful. My dreams pull me back to that fateful day in the woods. Leah's voice is clear and vibrant, her laughter echoing through the trees. She looks just as she did then—bright-eyed and full of life, her blonde hair catching the sunlight as she runs ahead of me.
"Come on, Ry! You can't catch me!" she taunts, her voice playful and teasing.
I chase after her, but the scene shifts abruptly. The sky darkens, the woods around us growing dense and foreboding. Leah's laughter fades, replaced by a chilling silence. I see her ahead, standing still, her back to me.
"Leah?" I call out, my voice trembling. She turns slowly, her eyes wide and filled with fear. "Ryan, you have to remember," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "It wasn't what you think. You need to know the truth."
Leah’s words hang in the air, cryptic and unsettling. Before I can respond, she turns and starts running again, her figure becoming a blur among the trees. Panic rises in my chest as I sprint after her, my feet pounding against the forest floor.
“Leah, wait!” I shout, desperation lacing my voice. The forest around me seems to close in, the trees towering and twisted, shadows dancing menacingly in the dim light. I push forward, trying to keep her in sight, but she’s too fast, slipping away like a wisp of smoke.
Suddenly, there’s a rustle, a flash of movement in the corner of my vision. Leah screams, a sound that pierces through the heavy silence. It happens too quickly—I can’t see what it is, only a dark blur that snatches her up.
“Leah!” I scream, my voice breaking. I stumble, falling to my knees as the forest spins around me. My heart races, and the terror is so real, so visceral, that it pulls me back to that awful day, the one that changed everything.
I jolt awake, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I sit up, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead as I try to steady my breathing. The room is still dark, the shadows cast by the moonlight seem to flicker and dance on the walls. My heart is still racing from the nightmare, the echo of Leah's scream lingering in my ears.
As I struggle to calm down, the floorboards outside my room creak. The door opens slowly, and I see the silhouette of my dad in the doorway, a Bowie knife in his hand, his posture tense.
“Dad, what the hell are you doing?” I whisper, my voice shaking.
“Shh,” he hisses, holding up a hand to silence me. “I heard something. Something moving around in the cabin. Stay quiet.”
I swallow hard, my mouth dry. I glance at the clock on the nightstand—it’s just past three in the morning. The cabin is silent, the kind of deep, oppressive silence that makes every small sound seem louder. I can’t hear anything out of the ordinary, but Dad’s expression is deadly serious.
He motions for me to get up, and I do, moving as quietly as I can. My heart is racing, a mix of lingering fear from the dream and the sudden, sharp anxiety of the present moment. Dad leads the way, stepping cautiously out of the bedroom and into the hallway, the knife held ready in front of him.
We move through the cabin, checking each room in turn. The living room is empty, the furniture casting long shadows in the dim moonlight. The kitchen is just as we left it, the plates from dinner still drying on the counter. Everything seems normal, untouched.
We finish our sweep of the cabin without finding anything amiss. The silence is heavy, punctuated only by our soft footfalls. I can see the tension in Dad’s frame, his grip on the knife unwavering. After checking the last room, we pause in the dimly lit hallway, the air thick with unspoken questions.
“There’s nothing here,” I say, my voice low. “Are you sure you heard something?”
He looks at me, his eyes searching for something in my face. “I heard growling. Deep and close. It was right outside the window.”
“Maybe it was just an animal outside, a raccoon or something?” I suggest, although the certainty in his voice makes me doubt my own reassurance.
“No, it wasn’t like that. It was different,” he insists, his voice tense.
I nod, not wanting to argue, but the seeds of worry are planted deep.
The look in his eyes sends a chill down my spine. It’s not just fear—it’s desperation. The kind of desperation that comes from years of chasing shadows and finding nothing. I can see the toll this hunt has taken on him, the way it’s worn him down, turned him into a man I barely recognize.
We head back to our rooms. As I lie down, my mind races with thoughts of my dad. I can’t help but wonder if he’s losing it, if the years of grief and guilt have finally pushed him over the edge.
Dad wasn’t always like this. Before Leah’s death, he was the kind of father who took us fishing, helped with homework, and told terrible jokes that made us groan and laugh at the same time. He was solid, dependable. But losing Leah changed him. The guilt twisted him into someone I barely recognize, someone driven by a need for answers, for closure, that may never come.
I try to sleep, but my thoughts keep me awake. I can hear Dad moving around downstairs, probably pacing or double-checking the locks. His paranoia has become a constant presence, and I don’t know how to help him. I don’t even know if I can help him.
—
The next morning, the sunlight filters weakly through the cabin windows, casting a pale light that does little to lift the heavy mood. I drag myself out of bed, feeling the exhaustion of another restless night. Dad is already up, hunched over his maps at the kitchen table, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.
“Morning,” I mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I pour myself a cup of coffee. “Did you sleep at all?”
He shakes his head, not looking up from his notes. “Not much. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I heard last night.”
I sip my coffee, trying to shake off the remnants of my nightmare. “Maybe it was just an animal, Dad. We’re deep in the woods, after all.”
He finally looks up, his eyes intense. “Ryan, I know what I heard. It wasn’t just an animal. It was something else.”
I sigh, not wanting to argue. “Okay, fine, Dad. What’s the plan for today?”
“We’re going back out. I found some tracks yesterday, and I want to follow them. See where they lead.”
I nod, feeling a mix of apprehension and resignation. I can see how much this means to him, how desperate he is for any kind of lead. “Alright. Let’s get packed and head out.”
We spend the morning preparing, loading up our gear and double-checking our supplies. Dad is meticulous, going over everything with a fine-toothed comb. I try to match his focus, but my mind keeps drifting back to Leah and the dream I had. Her words echo in my head, cryptic and unsettling: “You need to know the truth.”
We set off into the woods, the air crisp and cool. The forest is alive with the sounds of birds and rustling leaves, but it all feels distant, like background noise to the tension between us. Dad leads the way, his eyes scanning the ground for any sign of the tracks he found yesterday.
As we walk, I can’t help but notice how erratically he’s acting. He mutters to himself, his eyes darting around as if expecting something to jump out at us. His grip on his rifle is tight, his knuckles white.
“Dad, are you okay?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
He glances at me, his expression unreadable. “I’m fine. Just focused.”
He stops frequently to examine the ground or the bark of trees, pointing out marks and signs that seem meaningless to me.
“Look at this,” he says, crouching down to examine a broken branch. “See how it’s snapped? That’s not a deer or a bear. That’s something bigger. Stronger.”
I crouch next to Dad, squinting at the broken branch. To me, it just looks like a regular broken branch, the kind you see all over the forest. "I don't know, Dad. It just looks like a branch to me," I say, trying to keep my voice neutral.
Dad's eyes flicker with frustration. "You're not looking close enough. It's the way it's snapped—too clean, too deliberate. Something did this."
I nod, not wanting to argue. "Okay, sure. But even if you're right, it could be anything. A storm, another hunter..."
His expression hardens. "I know what I'm looking for. This is different."
I sigh, feeling the weight of the past and the tension between us pressing down on me. "Dad, I had a dream last night. About Leah." The words hang in the air between us, heavy and fraught with unspoken emotions.
Dad's eyes widen, and he straightens up, his entire demeanor shifting. "What kind of dream? What did you see?" His voice is urgent, almost desperate.
"It was... strange. We were in the woods, like we are now, but everything felt different. Leah was there, running ahead of me, laughing. Then she stopped and told me I needed to know the truth, that it wasn't what I thought."
Dad grabs my shoulders, his grip tight. "What else did she say? Did she tell you anything specific? Anything about the creature?"
I shake my head, feeling a chill run down my spine. "No, that was it. She just said I needed to know the truth, and then she was gone."
Dad’s grip on my shoulders tightens, and his eyes bore into mine with a mixture of desperation and hope. “Ryan, you have to try to remember. Think hard. What did the creature look like? Did you see anything else?”
I pull back slightly, uneasy with his intensity. “Dad, I told you. I don’t remember. It was just a dream. A nightmare, really. My mind’s probably just mixing things up.”
He lets go of me and runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and lost. “Dreams can be important. They can hold memories we’ve buried deep. Please, try to remember. This could be a sign, a clue.”
I rub my temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “I’ve tried, okay? I’ve tried for years to piece together what happened that day. But it’s all just fragments, like pieces of a puzzle that don’t fit. The dream… it felt real, but I don’t think it’s telling me anything new.”
Dad’s face falls, and he looks older than I’ve ever seen him. He turns away, staring into the forest as if it holds all the answers.
—
As we make our way back to the cabin, the sun begins to set, casting long shadows through the trees. The air grows colder, and I shiver, pulling my jacket tighter around me. Dad is silent, lost in his thoughts, his face drawn and haggard.
Back at the cabin, we unload our gear once again in silence. Dad disappears into his room, muttering something about going over his notes. I decide to explore the cabin, hoping to find something that might help me understand what’s going on with him.
In the attic, I find a box of old family photos and documents. As I sift through the contents, I come across a worn journal with Dad’s handwriting on the cover. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I open it, flipping through the pages.
The journal is filled with notes and sketches, detailing his obsession with the dogman. But there’s something else—entries that talk about Leah, about that day in the woods. His handwriting becomes more erratic, the words harder to read. One entry stands out, dated just a few days after Leah’s death:
“June 15, 2013 – It was supposed to be a normal trip. Keep them close, Frank, I kept telling myself. But I failed. Leah is gone, and it’s my fault. I heard her scream, saw the shadows. I tried to get to her, but… the thing, it was there. Too fast. Too strong. My hands… blood everywhere. No one will believe me. I can’t even believe myself. I have to find it. I have to protect Ryan. I have to make it right. God, what have I done?”
Before I can read further, the attic door creaks open, and Dad’s voice slices through the stillness.
“What are you doing up here?” His tone is sharp, almost panicked.
I turn to see him standing in the doorway, his face pale and his eyes wide with something between anger and fear. I clutch the journal to my chest, my mind racing. “I found this… I was just trying to understand…”
In an instant, he crosses the room and snatches the journal from my hands. His grip is tight, his knuckles white. “You had no right,” he growls, his voice trembling.
“Dad, I just wanted to know the truth!” I shout, frustration boiling over. “What really happened to Leah.”
His eyes flash with a mix of rage and anguish, and before I can react, he slaps me across the face. The force of it knocks me off balance, and I stumble backward, my cheek stinging.
For a moment, there’s a stunned silence. We both stand there, breathing hard, the air thick with tension.
“I’m sorry,” Dad says finally, his voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean to… I just…” He trails off, clutching the journal to his chest like a lifeline.
I touch my cheek, feeling the heat from the slap, and take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Dad, what aren’t you telling me? What really happened that day?”
“Stay out of it, Ryan,” Dad growls, his eyes dark with anger. “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”
He turns and storms out of the attic. I’m left standing there, my cheek throbbing, my mind racing. What the fuck is going on? What really happened to Leah? And what is Dad so afraid of?
—
That night, I sleep with my rifle within arm's reach, more afraid of my dad than any dogman. The slap still burns on my cheek, and the look in his eyes—rage, fear, something darker—haunts me. I lie awake, listening to the creaks and groans of the old cabin, every sound amplified in the stillness. Eventually, exhaustion pulls me under, and I fall into a restless sleep.
The dream returns, vivid and unsettling. I'm back in the woods, chasing after Leah. Her laughter echoes through the trees, a haunting reminder of happier times. This time, though, I push myself harder, refusing to let her slip away.
"Ryan, catch me!" she calls, her voice playful.
"I'm coming, Leah!" I shout, my legs pumping, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
The forest around us is a twisted, shadowy maze, the trees seeming to close in on us. Leah's figure becomes clearer, her blonde hair catching the dim light filtering through the canopy. She stops suddenly, turning to face me, her eyes wide with fear.
"Leah, what is it?" I ask, my voice trembling.
"Look behind you," she whispers, her voice barely audible.
I turn slowly, dread creeping up my spine. In the shadows, I see a figure, its form indistinct and shifting. It’s not quite animal, not quite human—something in between. The sight of it sends a jolt of terror through me, and I wake up with a start, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I’m not in my bed. The ground beneath me is cold and hard, the smell of damp earth filling my nostrils. Panic rises as I realize I’ve sleepwalked into the woods. I scramble to my feet, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. The moon casts a pale glow over the surroundings, revealing what looks like a long-abandoned animal lair.
The walls are covered in giant claw marks, deep gouges in the wood and earth. The air is heavy with the scent of decay, and a chill runs through me. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched.
Carefully, I start to move, my eyes scanning the ground, desperate for a familiar landmark. That's when I see them—faded scraps of fabric caught on the jagged edges of the underbrush. My steps falter, a sense of dread washing over me as I bend down to examine them. The fabric is torn, weathered by time and the elements, but unmistakably familiar. It's part of Leah's jacket—the bright pink one she wore on the day she disappeared.
As I strain to make sense of it all, a rustling sound behind me snaps my focus. My heart leaps into my throat. I spin around, my hand instinctively reaching for the rifle I don't have—because, of course, I didn't bring it in my unconscious state.
The shadowy figure that emerges from the trees is unsettlingly familiar, mirroring the menacing forms of my nightmares. But as it steps into the moonlight, I recognize the worn jacket, the weary posture. It's Dad.
"Ryan!" he calls out, his voice a mix of relief and stern concern. "I've been looking everywhere for you. What the hell are you doing out here?"
I exhale slowly, the terror ebbing away as reality sets back in. "I—I don't know, Dad. I must've sleepwalked again." My voice is shaky, my earlier dream still clinging to the edges of my consciousness.
Dad stares at me in disbelief. "You haven't sleepwalked since you were a kid, Ry. This... this isn't just a coincidence." His eyes dart around, taking in the surroundings—the eerie, claw-marked den, the unsettling quiet of the woods. "How did you even find this place?"
I shake my head, struggling to find an answer. "I don't know, Dad. I just... I woke up here." The uncertainty in my voice does nothing to ease the tension.
His eyes lock onto the tattered remains of Leah's jacket in my hands, and something inside him snaps. The color drains from his face as he stumbles a few steps backward. "This... this is where it happened," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. “This is where we found Leah."
“I thought you said you don’t remember anything from that night,” he says accusingly.
"I swear, Dad, I don't know anything about this place," I insist, my own heart pounding.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You’ve been hiding this from me.” His voice is frantic. “You... last night, the growling, it was you.” His voice rises, tinged with hysteria.
I step back, my pulse racing, feeling the chill of the night and the weight of his accusation. "Dad, I don't know what you're talking ab—”
"No!" he interrupts, his voice breaking as he points a trembling finger at me. "You knew, you always knew. It was you, Ryan. All these years, the evidence was right there, but I refused to see it. You were the dogman. You killed Leah!"
His words hit me like a physical blow, absurd and horrifying in their implications. "Dad, you're not making any sense. You're talking crazy! I was just a little kid! How could I–" I protest, my voice shaky.
He steps closer, his presence looming over me, the outline of his figure distorted by the shadows of the trees. "Think about it! It all makes sense now. You led us here, to this place, because you remember. Because you did it."
"Dad, stop it!" I shout, my heart pounding in my chest. "You're scaring me. You need help, professional help. This isn't you."
But he's beyond reason, his eyes wild with a haunted grief. "I have to end this," he mutters, more to himself than to me, his hand tightening around his rifle.
His finger hovers dangerously over the trigger of his rifle. My instincts kick in, and I know I have to act fast.
I lunge toward him, trying to knock the weapon away, but he's quicker than I expected. We struggle, our breaths heavy in the cold night air, the sounds of our scuffle the only noise in the otherwise silent woods. His strength surprises me, fueled by his frantic emotions. He shoves me back, and I stumble over a root, my balance lost for a crucial second. That's all he needs. He raises his rifle, his intentions clear in his wild, pained eyes.
I dive to the ground just as the shot rings out, a deafening blast that echoes ominously through the trees. The bullet whizzes past, narrowly missing me, embedding itself in the bark of an old pine. I scramble to my feet, my heart pounding in my ears, and I start running. The underbrush claws at my clothes and skin, but I push through, driven by a primal urge to survive.
"Dad, stop! It's me, Ryan!" I shout back as I dodge between the trees. Another shot breaks the silence, closer this time, sending splinters of wood flying from a nearby tree trunk. It's surreal, being hunted by my own father, a man tormented by grief and lost in his delusions.
I don't stop to look back. I can hear him crashing through the forest behind me, his heavy breaths and muttered curses carried on the wind. The terrain is rough, and I'm fueled by adrenaline, but exhaustion is setting in. I need a plan.
Ahead, I see a rocky outcrop and make a split-second decision to head for it. It offers a chance to hide, to catch my breath and maybe reason with him if he catches up. As I reach the rocks, I slip behind the largest one, my body pressed tight against the cold, damp surface. I hear his footsteps approaching, slow and cautious now.
As I press against the rock, trying to calm my racing heart, I can hear Dad's footsteps drawing closer, each step crunching ominously on the forest floor. He's methodical, deliberate, like a hunter stalking his prey.
“Come out, Ryan!” Dad’s voice is ragged, filled with a blend of fury and pain.
My heart pounds against my chest, the cold sweat on my back making me shiver against the rough surface of the rock. I know I can't just sit here; it's only a matter of time before he finds me.
Taking a deep breath, I peek around the edge of the rock, trying to gauge his position. I see him, rifle raised, scanning the area slowly. This might be my only chance to end this madness without further violence. I need to disarm him, to talk some sense into him if I can.
As quietly as I can, I move out from behind the rock, my steps careful to avoid any twigs or leaves that might betray my position. I'm almost upon him when a branch snaps under my foot—a sound so trivial yet so alarmingly loud in the quiet of the woods.
Dad whirls around, looking completely unhinged. "Ryan!" he exclaims, his rifle swinging in my direction. Panic overtakes me, and I lunge forward, my hands reaching for the gun.
We struggle, the rifle between us, our breaths heavy and erratic. "Dad, please, stop!" I plead, trying to wrestle the gun away. But he's strong, stronger than I expected.
In the chaos, the rifle goes off. The sound is deafening, a sharp echo that seems to reverberate off every tree around us. Pain explodes in my abdomen, sharp and burning, like nothing I've ever felt before. I stagger back, my hands instinctively going to the wound. The warmth of my own blood coats my fingers, stark and terrifying.
Dad drops the rifle, his eyes wide with horror. "Oh my God! What have I done?" he gasps, rushing to my side as I collapse onto the forest floor.
As the pain sears through me, a strange, overpowering energy surges within. It's wild, primal, unlike anything I've ever experienced. Looking down in horror, my hands are no longer hands but large, hairy, clawed appendages. The transformation is rapid, consuming—my vision blurs, senses heighten, and a raw, guttural growl builds in my throat.
In that moment, a flood of understanding washes over me, mingling with the horror of realization. These are the hands of the creature from my nightmares, the creature whose face I can never fully recall because, as I now understand, it is me.
What happens next feels detached, as if I'm no longer in control of my own actions, watching from a distance as my body moves on its own. I turn towards my dad, his face a mask of terror. He stumbles back, his eyes wide with the dawning realization of what his son has become.
The forest around us seems to fall silent, holding its breath as the nightmarish scene unfolds. I can hear my own growls, guttural and deep, filling the air with a sound that's both foreign and intimately familiar. The pain in my abdomen fuels a dark, violent urge, an urge that's too strong to resist.
With a ferocity that feels both alien and intrinsic, I move towards him. My dad, paralyzed by fear and shock, doesn't run. Maybe he can't. Maybe he doesn't want to.
The encounter was brutal and swift, a blur of motion and violence. My dad barely puts up a struggle, as though resigned to his fate.
Not that there is anything he can do. The creature that I’ve become is too powerful, too consumed by the wild instincts surging through me. I tear him apart, limb from bloody limb, my hands—no, my claws—rending through fabric and flesh with disgusting ease.
The sound of my dad’s screams, of tearing fabric and flesh is drowned out by the animalistic growls that echo through the trees.
When it’s all over, the red mist that had clouded my vision begins to fade, and the fierce, uncontrollable rage that drove my actions subsides. I'm left standing, my breaths heavy and erratic, in the eerie stillness of the forest. The transformation reverses as quickly as it came on, and I find myself back in my human form. My clothes are ripped to shreds, hanging off my frame in tattered remnants. At my feet lies what’s left of my dad, his body torn and unrecognizable.
I glance down at my abdomen, expecting agony, but instead find my wound miraculously healed. No sign of the gunshot remains, just a faint scar where I expected a bloody mess.
Shock sets in, a numbing disbelief mixed with a gut-wrenching realization of what I've become and what I've done. My hands, now human again, tremble as I look at them, half-expecting to see the claws that had so effortlessly ripped through flesh and bone. But there's only blood, my father's blood against my skin.
I stand there for what feels like an eternity, trapped in a nightmare of my own making.
Eventually, the shock wears thin, and a cold practicality takes hold. I need to get out of here. I need to cover my tracks, to disappear. Because who would believe this? Who would understand that I didn't choose this, that I'm not a monster by choice?
With trembling hands, I do what’s necessary. I bury my dad in a shallow grave, the physical act of digging strangely grounding. I cover him with leaves and branches, a pitiful attempt to hide the brutality of his end. I take a moment, whispering apologies into the wind, knowing full well that nothing I say can change what happened.
I leave the forest behind, my mind a whirl of dark thoughts. As I walk, the first hints of dawn brush against the horizon, the sky bleeding a soft pink. It’s hauntingly beautiful.

Mine would be something like 'I Became The Convenience Store King In A Cultivation World', you can't tell me that isn't a title you might be interested in reading. Imagine the MC suddenly in a fantasy world in a convenience store, unlocking a system that made me the "Convenience Store King". My system could be directly tied to profit margins with all forms of currency and materials being exchangeable for goods like fresh chip packets or ice creams.
Going into story recap mode:
Leaving the store, it disappears and vanishes into my system storage with an information window that I can summon it on its own or by using an inner space like a cave or doorway. Suddenly, I am travelling to the nearest city, working a bunch of odd jobs to afford things that I want in my convenience store, delivered in packages and boxes. Soon enough, a cultivator group is riding through and stops at the city to ask about monsters and beasts that might have attained sentience and began cultivating. It is then that they come across my store which only has 2 windows and a door in the middle of a shack, showing the inside and attracting their curiosity. Going inside they were perplexed about the expansion of the inner space, thinking it was the product of a cultivator and that maybe the mortal simply picked up the item. I reassured them and gave them some discounts, alluring them with the taste of modern confectionary products that they can't simply steal because the interior suppresses their cultivation. With no other choice, they buy some of the stock and get hooked, taking some for later and paying with spiritual stones once they ran out of taels since they had spent most buying information.
Coming back bursting through my store which expanded to a business district store instead of a shitty stall, the cultivators came back to buy more with their mysterious master, allowing me to get more spiritual stones and buy a spiritual energy sucker that solved my electricity billing problem and gives me more cash to spend. It is then that the sect master shows herself with her regal and youthful appearance, demanding my servitude, something I refuse and she smirks at, saying she is interested in me and asks me to return with her, to which I only agree if I can open a store in the sect where both inner and outer disciples can shop. She agrees and we get to go on a flying ship after I sell my store, using an instantly deployable Yurt that I got as a system reward to continue selling until I got to the sect. At the sect, the sect leader set me up with a store at the gateway for outer disciples when they need to attend mass or graduate to an inner disciple. Every time a new item came in stock there would be an uproar of people wanting to taste it and give it a try with even the sect master coming by to buy food, drinks and clothing. All the while I would be learning the sect's cultivation techniques and taking some time off to join others in their activities.
As time passes, the store is updated with security cameras, metal detectors, an ice machine, a bigger store, more storage in the back, stronger doors and locks, an emergency call button to the sect and a TV that I can use to look at cameras or watch the internet from back in my world. I would also use the sect to get a magical beast who would help manage the store and I would train with good quality meat that other convenience stores wouldn't usually sell. Together the two of us would manage the store and train in cultivation, going on adventures since my importance would warrant inner disciple status and maybe get me picked as the sect master's direct disciple, allowing me to bring and use my store and eventually upgrade it to have different entry points. Upgrading the store brings me benefits like opening branches that all connect to the same store, bringing in extra business as I also create meeting rooms for those wishing to use the store's spacial property to connect with others like a mail service or

Hi everyone,
I'm looking for some realistic advice and insights on my current job search situation in Shanghai. Here’s a bit about my background and what I’m facing:
My Background:

• Nationality: EU citizen
• Education: Studied in the UK for 5 years. I hold a BSc in Computer Science (First-class Honours) and an MSc in Advanced Computer Science (Merit).
• Experience: 3+ years in software development:
  • 2 years at a private company
  • 1 year at a government research agency working on control software for particle accelerators
  • All work experience was before & during my undergrad and postgrad studies (all full-time: office, remote, and placement year).
• Relevant Languages: Fluent in English (though not a native speaker), very limited Mandarin.

Visa Situation:

• Looking to stay in Shanghai for around 2 years.
• My passport doesn't allow long-stay multi-entry L visas. I’ve managed to get a 60-day single-entry L visa before (considered rare for my passport), but I’ve been told by the visa people that I can’t stay longer than 6 months within a 12-month period using short-term L visas.
• Therefore, I need to secure a work (Z) visa or, as a last resort, an X1 student visa (though scholarship applications for this year seem to be closed).

Job Search Efforts:

• Applied to over 200 jobs at 100+ companies (multinationals, domestic companies, schools, etc.) in the past 2 months.
• Used multiple job platforms: LinkedIn, Indeed, GlassDoor, LaowaiCarrer, eChinaCities, HiredChina, SmartShanghai, LiePin (猎聘), and ZhiLianTuiTui (智联推推).
• Applied to a variety of positions: software-related, IT and tech support, CS/Programming & ESL teaching, customer support call centers, SEO optimization, QA/Localisation, marketing, various internships, etc.
• I've been open and flexible in my job search, willing to make sacrifices in career progression for roles I may be overqualified for or not directly related to my background.

Challenges:

• Multinationals seem to only need seniors or team leads with many more years of experience and have, for the most part, ghosted me.
• Expat websites are flooded with listings for teaching jobs that have good benefits and (frustratingly) loose requirements but require native English speakers.
• Many English-related jobs (localization, proofreading, digital content creation, translation QA, user research, etc.) inexplicably require native English speakers. Despite being able to excel in these roles and achieve a high IELTS/TOEFL score if needed, I am deemed unqualified solely due to my passport.
• HR on Chinese job boards have shown a lot of interest in me, but most Chinese companies don’t seem to be currently hiring international talent.

Current Plan:

• Planning to stay in Shanghai later this year for as long as my tourist visa allows, to continue job hunting in person. I am hoping that this will simplify the process and improve my chances. I will have, at most, 3 months on my L visa.
• If during that time I still don't manage to secure work, I really won't know what else to do, as I may not be issued another L visa.

My Question:
I'm currently in a bind. With my background and qualifications, finding a good programming job in Europe wouldn't be too difficult. However, in Shanghai, it's been so challenging to find any job, even those I'm grossly overqualified for, no matter how much I lower my standards regarding career progression and compensation. Although I could find a remote job, that wouldn't solve my visa issue.
Given my qualifications and experience, what are the realistic chances of finding any job in Shanghai that provides a livable wage and normal work hours? Any advice on navigating the job market or improving my odds would be greatly appreciated. Has anyone been in a similar situation or have insights on making this work?
Thank you!

Have you ever heard of a magnetic screen door? If not, you're in for a treat!
We will explore what a magnetic screen door is and how it works. We will also discuss the numerous benefits of using one, such as easy entry and exit, keeping bugs out, and saving energy.
We will delve into the different types of magnetic screen doors, how to install them, tips for maintenance, common issues to watch out for, and more.
So, sit back, relax, and let's dive into the world of magnetic screen doors!

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Key Takeaways:

• Easy to install and use, magnetic screen doors provide a convenient solution for keeping bugs out and allowing for natural ventilation.
• With various types available, including retractable, hanging, and sliding, there is a magnetic screen door for every doorway.
• Regular cleaning and proper maintenance can help prevent common issues with magnetic screen doors, such as weakening magnet strength or wear and tear.

What Is a Magnetic Screen Door?

A magnetic screen door is a convenient and versatile solution for keeping insects out while allowing a refreshing breeze to flow through your living space. Typically made of PVC coated polyester mesh, these doors feature velcro strips and magnets for easy installation and use.
These screen doors are designed to fit most standard door sizes, and some models are customizable, allowing you to choose the perfect fit for your specific doorway.
The variety of colors available ensures that you can find a magnetic screen door that complements the aesthetics of your home.
Privacy screens are an essential feature of many magnetic screen doors, providing not only protection from insects but also a shield from prying eyes in busy outdoor settings.

How Does a Magnetic Screen Door Work?

A magnetic screen door operates through the use of strategically placed magnets along the edges that ensure a secure closure after entry or exit. This mechanism effectively prevents bugs and insects from entering the living space while allowing a continuous flow of fresh air through the PVC mesh material.
These magnets act as a powerful force, promptly pulling the screen closed behind anyone passing through. The PVC mesh screen acts as a dual-action feature, filtering out dust and providing excellent ventilation without compromising on security. This combination ensures that homes remain pest-free, while still enjoying the benefits of a constant breeze flowing through the room. The seamless blend of magnetic closures and durable mesh makes these screen doors an innovative solution to keep indoor spaces bug-free and airy.

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What Are the Benefits of Using a Magnetic Screen Door?

Utilizing a magnetic screen door offers numerous advantages, including easy access for entry and exit, protection against bugs and insects, natural ventilation that brings in a refreshing breeze, and energy efficiency by reducing the need for artificial cooling systems.
These doors play a crucial role in enhancing the connection between indoor and outdoor spaces. They create a seamless transition, making it easier to move between the two areas without any barriers. This not only promotes a sense of openness but also allows for better air circulation, improving the overall air quality within the living space.
With the installation of magnetic screen doors, you can enjoy the beauty of the outdoors while maintaining a level of privacy, especially when compared to traditional outdoor curtains. These doors contribute to energy savings by allowing natural light to enter the home, reducing the reliance on artificial lighting during the day.

Allows for Easy Entry and Exit

One of the primary benefits of a magnetic screen door is its seamless installation process that enables convenient entry and exit from your living space without the need for complex mechanisms or tools.
These innovative screen doors only require basic household tools to set up, making it a hassle-free addition to your home. By following the straightforward instructions provided, you can easily attach the magnetic strips to your door frame in a matter of minutes.
Once installed, the magnetic screen door effortlessly opens and closes, allowing for a smooth transition between your indoor and outdoor spaces. Its user-friendly design is ideal for those who value simplicity and functionality in their home improvement projects.

Keeps Bugs and Insects Out

The PVC mesh material of a magnetic screen door acts as a barrier against insects and bugs, ensuring a pest-free environment within your living space. Regular cleaning with appropriate agents helps maintain its effectiveness.
By incorporating PVC mesh in the construction of the screen door, homeowners create a strong line of defense against unwanted critters while still allowing fresh air to circulate. The mesh structure effectively blocks out mosquitoes, flies, and other pests without obstructing the view or airflow.
To ensure continued protection, it is crucial to conduct routine cleanings using gentle agents that preserve the integrity of the material. This not only helps in removing any trapped debris or dust but also safeguards the door's durability against wear and tear due to dirt accumulation.

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Provides Natural Ventilation

By allowing a refreshing breeze to pass through, a magnetic screen door provides natural ventilation that enhances indoor air quality and creates a comfortable environment. Privacy screens can be integrated for added security.
One of the key advantages of incorporating magnetic screen doors is their ability to facilitate the circulation of fresh air throughout your living space. This not only helps in reducing stuffiness but also contributes to maintaining a healthier indoor atmosphere by minimizing the build-up of pollutants and odors.
The option to include privacy screens further enhances the functionality of these doors. The privacy screens provide an additional layer of security, preventing unwanted intrusions while still allowing airflow to pass through effortlessly.

Saves Energy

The use of a magnetic screen door promotes energy efficiency by reducing the reliance on artificial cooling systems, leading to potential cost savings. Combining it with outdoor curtains can further enhance insulation.
When these two elements are paired together, the magnetic screen door acts as a barrier against insects and allows fresh air to flow into the space, reducing the need for constant air conditioning usage. This results in lower electricity bills and decreased energy consumption, aligning with sustainable living practices.
Incorporating outdoor curtains alongside the magnetic screen door creates an additional layer of protection from heat gain or loss, effectively maintaining indoor temperatures during different seasons. Properly sealed windows and doorways play a crucial role in preventing energy wastage, promoting a comfortable living environment without the need for excessive heating or cooling."

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What Are the Different Types of Magnetic Screen Doors?

There are various types of magnetic screen doors available, including retractable, hanging, and sliding options, each offering unique features and installation methods to suit different door configurations and preferences.
Retractable magnetic screen doors are popular for their sleek and space-saving design, ideal for single entry doors or French doors that need easy access.
Hanging magnetic screen doors, on the other hand, provide a cost-effective solution for temporary use or renters, with easy setup and removal.
Sliding magnetic screen doors are perfect for patio or sliding doors, offering seamless operation without obstructing the view.

Retractable Magnetic Screen Doors

Retractable magnetic screen doors feature a roll-up mechanism that allows for easy installation and operation, making them an ideal choice for doorways with limited space or aesthetic preferences.
These innovative doors offer a practical solution for keeping insects out while maintaining airflow and natural light indoors. The unique design ensures that the screen neatly rolls away when not in use, maximizing space efficiency.
Due to their versatility, they can be installed on various entryways, including French doors, sliding patio doors, and single doors. The user-friendly installation process makes it convenient for homeowners to set them up without the need for professional assistance.

Hanging Magnetic Screen Doors

Hanging magnetic screen doors are suspended from a top rail and provide effective insect protection while offering easy passage for humans and pets through the center opening.
These innovative doors are designed to keep pesky bugs like flies, mosquitoes, and gnats out of your home while allowing fresh air to flow freely. The strong magnets strategically placed along the edges ensure that the door snaps shut behind you, preventing any unwanted invaders from sneaking inside. The convenience of simply walking through the magnetic closure without using your hands makes them ideal for busy households with children and pets.

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Their sleek and unobtrusive design adds a modern touch to any doorway.

Sliding Magnetic Screen Doors

Sliding magnetic screen doors glide along tracks to open and close, ensuring a snug fit that keeps insects out while providing a smooth operation for users. Proper installation is crucial to maximize their effectiveness.
Regarding the features of sliding magnetic screen doors, their design allows them to effortlessly slide along the designated tracks, offering a user-friendly experience that blends functionality and convenience. One of the standout qualities is their ability to be customized to fit various door sizes and types, catering to different home setups and preferences. This customization factor ensures that the door snugly fits in place, leaving no gaps for pesky insects to sneak through.
Installing these doors requires attention to detail and precision. Fit accuracy is paramount to prevent any gaps that could compromise the insect protection they provide. An improperly installed screen door may not only let insects in but also hinder the smooth operation of the door itself. Ensuring a precise installation is key to enjoying the full benefits of a sliding magnetic screen door.

How to Install a Magnetic Screen Door?

Installing a magnetic screen door is a straightforward process that begins with measuring your door frame accurately, followed by preparing the components and securing the screen door in place using the provided instructions.
Once you have measured the width and height of your door frame, ensure to double-check the accuracy to avoid any fitting issues later on. Accurate measurements are crucial for a seamless installation process.
Next, clear the door frame area of any debris or obstructions that may hinder the installation. This step will create a clean surface for attaching the magnetic screen door.
Before beginning the installation, carefully unpack all the components that come with the screen door kit and familiarize yourself with the different parts. Each component plays a vital role in ensuring the door functions properly.

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Measure Your Door Frame

Before installing a magnetic screen door, ensure precise measurements of your door frame to facilitate custom sizing and a secure fit, enhancing the door's overall effectiveness.
Accurate measurements play a crucial role in ensuring that the magnetic screen door aligns perfectly with the door frame. Custom sizing allows for a tailored fit, eliminating gaps that could let bugs in and maintaining the aesthetic appeal of your doorway. An ill-fitted screen door may not only compromise its functionality but also lead to potential damage or wear and tear. By taking the time to measure your door frame correctly, you set the foundation for a smooth installation process and long-term satisfaction with the performance of your magnetic screen door.

Prepare the Magnetic Screen Door

Preparing the magnetic screen door involves familiarizing yourself with the components, ensuring all parts are included, and verifying the integrity of the PVC coated polyester mesh before proceeding with the installation process.
Inspect all the elements of the magnetic screen door kit, including the frame, magnets, and fastening strips, to guarantee nothing is missing or damaged.
Check the PVC coated polyester mesh for any tears, holes, or weak spots that could compromise its effectiveness in keeping bugs out while allowing fresh air to flow through.
Address any issues with the mesh promptly by either repairing small damages with a patch or contacting the manufacturer for a replacement if necessary.

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Install the Screen Door

The final step in installing a magnetic screen door is to follow the manufacturer's instructions to securely attach the screen door to the door frame, ensuring proper alignment of magnets for effective closure and insect protection.
Ensure that the magnetic strips on both sides of the door are aligned correctly to allow for a strong magnetic closure.

• Start by positioning the door at the top of the frame and lining up the magnets on the screen with the corresponding magnets on the frame.
• Check for any gaps or misalignments, adjusting the positioning if necessary to guarantee a snug fit.

Following the guidelines meticulously will help in achieving a seamless installation and optimal performance of your magnetic screen door.

What Are Some Tips for Maintaining a Magnetic Screen Door?

To ensure the longevity and efficiency of your magnetic screen door, it is essential to clean it regularly using gentle cleaning agents that do not damage the PVC mesh. Avoid harsh chemicals that may compromise the door's integrity.
Regular cleaning not only helps in maintaining the overall appearance of the magnetic screen door but also ensures proper functioning by preventing clogs and blockages caused by dirt and debris. Insects, such as mosquitoes and flies, are common nuisances that can get trapped in the mesh, affecting the door's performance. By using appropriate cleaning agents, you can effectively eliminate these unwanted visitors while preserving the durability of the PVC mesh. It's crucial to keep in mind that harsh chemicals can deteriorate the materials over time, leading to tears and damage that may affect the door's effectiveness.

Clean Regularly

Regular cleaning of the PVC mesh on your magnetic screen door, using mild soapy water and a soft brush, helps remove dirt, dust, and debris that may impede the door's functionality. For vinyl magnet screen doors, gentle wiping is recommended.
When cleaning PVC mesh screens, start by removing the screen from the door frame, if possible, to clean it more thoroughly. Fill a bucket with warm water and a small amount of mild detergent to create a cleaning solution. Gently scrub the mesh with a soft brush or sponge to loosen any stubborn dirt or stains. Rinse the screen with clean water and allow it to air dry completely before reinstalling.
For vinyl magnet screen doors, use a damp cloth or sponge to wipe down the surface. Avoid using harsh chemicals or abrasive cleaners that can damage the vinyl material. Regular wiping will help maintain the appearance and longevity of the magnetic screen door.

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Avoid Harsh Chemicals

When cleaning your magnetic screen door, refrain from using harsh chemicals or abrasive cleaners that can cause damage to the PVC mesh material. Opt for mild cleaning agents to preserve the door's structural integrity.
This is crucial as harsh chemicals can lead to discoloration or weakening of the PVC mesh, which could compromise the overall effectiveness of the door in keeping bugs out while allowing fresh air to flow through.
By selecting gentle cleaning solutions, you not only maintain the aesthetic appeal of your magnetic screen door but also extend its lifespan, ensuring that it continues to function seamlessly for years to come.

Store Properly During Winter Months

During the winter months, it is advisable to store your magnetic screen door properly to prevent damage from harsh weather conditions. Consider removing and storing privacy screens and outdoor curtains for added protection.
Proper storage of your magnetic screen door involves more than just taking it down and leaving it in the garage. To ensure its longevity, protecting it from the snow, ice, and winds is crucial. Opt for a clean and dry storage space, away from moisture and extreme temperatures. If possible, store it in its original packaging or cover it with a sturdy material to prevent dust accumulation.
For those who have privacy screens or outdoor curtains attached, make sure to remove and store them properly as well. Clean them before storing to avoid mold growth during the months they are not in use.

What Are Some Common Issues with Magnetic Screen Doors?

While magnetic screen doors offer numerous benefits, common issues may arise such as magnet strength variations, fit and installation challenges, and wear and tear over time that can impact their performance and durability.

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One potential problem associated with magnetic screen doors is the inconsistent magnet strength. Due to variations in manufacturing or environmental factors, the magnetic attraction may not always be uniform, leading to gaps or ineffective closure.
Another common challenge lies in fit adjustments, as the screens may require precise installation to ensure a tight seal. Improper fit can result in insects sneaking through or the door not closing securely.
Long-term durability concerns come into play as the constant opening and closing of the door, exposure to elements, and normal wear and tear can degrade the quality over time, compromising its functionality.

Magnet Strength

One of the issues that users may encounter with magnetic screen doors is inconsistent magnet strength, leading to gaps in closure and reduced insect protection. Ensuring optimal magnet alignment can help address this challenge.
Proper magnet alignment is crucial in ensuring a secure and tight seal when the screen door is closed, preventing insects from entering the house. The strength of the magnets plays a key role in maintaining the integrity of the seal. Strong magnets help keep the door closed securely, maximizing its effectiveness in keeping bugs out. To enhance magnet strength, users can consider options like upgrading to higher-grade magnets or adding supplementary magnets along the door frame to improve closure reliability.

Fit and Installation

Proper fit and installation are crucial for the optimal performance of magnetic screen doors. Issues with fit and installation can result in gaps that compromise insect protection and airflow control, necessitating adjustments for a secure seal.
Ensuring that the magnetic screen door fits correctly is essential to prevent bugs and insects from entering your home while allowing fresh air to flow through. A common challenge during installation is getting the measurements right to avoid gaps that can undermine the door's effectiveness.
When facing fit issues, consider adjusting the tension of the screen or checking the alignment of the frame. Improper installation can lead to the door not closing properly or tearing prematurely. It's crucial to follow the manufacturer's instructions meticulously to ensure a snug fit and proper functioning.

Wear and Tear

Over time, magnetic screen doors may experience wear and tear due to frequent use and exposure to elements.
Regular upkeep is essential for ensuring that these doors function smoothly and efficiently. Dust, dirt, and debris can accumulate on the magnetic strips and mesh, causing them to deteriorate over time.
It is recommended to clean the door regularly using a gentle soap and water solution. Checking for loose screws, damaged components, and tears in the screen is crucial. Addressing these issues promptly through maintenance and timely repairs can significantly prolong the life of the door.

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Conclusion

In conclusion, magnetic screen doors offer a practical and efficient solution for enhancing indoor-outdoor connectivity, protecting against insects, and promoting natural ventilation. Coupled with the option to include privacy screens or outdoor curtains, these doors contribute to a comfortable and energy-efficient living environment.
These innovative doors not only keep bugs at bay but also allow for uninterrupted airflow, creating a refreshing ambiance inside the house. With the added feature of privacy screens, magnetic screen doors offer the flexibility to control visibility and enhance security without compromising on the aesthetic appeal. The incorporation of outdoor curtains provides an extra layer of insulation, helping maintain a stable indoor temperature throughout the seasons. Whether for a cozy reading nook or a lively patio, these doors cater to various preferences and seamlessly blend functionality with style.

Frequently Asked Questions

1. What is a magnetic screen door?

A magnetic screen door is a type of screen door that is designed to easily open and close using magnets instead of traditional hinge mechanisms. It is often used as a temporary solution for keeping insects out while allowing for easy access through the door.

2. How does a magnetic screen door work?

A magnetic screen door works by using a series of magnets that are sewn into the edges of the screen. When the door is opened, the magnets automatically align and close the screen behind the person walking through. As the person exits, the magnets separate and the screen opens again.

3. What are the benefits of using a magnetic screen door?

There are several benefits to using a magnetic screen door, including allowing for easy entry and exit without the need to constantly open and close a traditional door. It also helps keep insects and pests out while still allowing for fresh air and natural light to enter the space.

4. Can a magnetic screen door be used on any type of door?

Generally, magnetic screen doors can be used on most types of doors, including single and double doors, sliding doors, and even RV doors. However, it is important to check the dimensions and compatibility of the screen door with your specific door before purchasing.

5. How do you install a magnetic screen door?

Magnetic screen doors are typically easy to install and require no tools or drilling. Most models come with a velcro strip or adhesive tape that allows the screen to be attached to the door frame. It is important to follow the manufacturer's instructions for proper installation.

6. Are there any downsides to using a magnetic screen door?

While magnetic screen doors have many benefits, there are also a few potential downsides to consider. They may not be as durable as traditional screen doors and may not hold up well in extreme weather conditions. Some models may also not provide as much protection from strong winds or heavy rain.

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"You gotta know that there's an art to it, Ezra," Hitch said, cutting another piece of duct tape.
The sleeves of his weather-beaten coat were shoved all the way up his arms, to stop the fabric from falling over his knuckles while he was working, and goosebumps lined his skin. He was strapping a rubber chicken to the back of his truck, over the lens of the shattered backup camera, with the legs pointing down so that they hung a couple inches above the ground. There were dents in the hood from the crash last week, and scratches along the door from scraping into a curb. The chicken, hopefully, would keep him from breaking anything else.
"You can't go cheap," Hitch said. "The cheap rubber chickens only make noise when pressure lets go. That's no good. As soon as I back up into something, I want this chicken to be screaming like it’s in the depths of hell."
“Sure thing,” I said in a monotone, leaning against the side of the truck.
There were scrambled electronic parts piled in the back of the truck, the innards of a radio, a broken computer, tangled wires, a couple loose pairs of earbuds. He found the parts in alleyways or bummed them off his friends for a couple bucks or stole them from the vacation homes that were left empty for most of the year. Then he sold them for a profit at the scrapyard. Hitch had bounced between minimum-wage jobs for a while after high school, spending a couple months as a bagger at the grocery store or as a seasonal worker at the farm two hours down the highway. He'd never stuck with it. At the very least, the scrapyard got him enough money to eat and occasionally spend a night in a motel when he got tired of sleeping in his car.
Hitch pressed the last piece of tape in place and grinned up at me. "I've got something for you, duck."
The nickname came from when I’d broken my leg as a child and waddled around in a cast until it was healed. I hated it with a burning passion, and I glared at Hitch with the ease of twenty-one years of practice. He had a duck tattoo at the base of his thumb that he’d gotten in a back-alley shop as a teenager. He said that he’d gotten it to remind him of me, and the fact that I hated the nickname was just a bonus. It was shaky-lined, with an uneven face, but he loved it anyway.
The handle stuck when Hitch tried to open the door, a consequence of the rust collecting in the crevices of the car and running down the sides like blood from a cut. The car groaned when the door finally popped open, a metal against metal screech that had me flinching away. Hitch dug through the cluttered fast food containers in the passenger-side footwell, eventually coming up with a crinkly paper bag. He waved away the flies buzzing around the opening of the bag and held it out to me.
The last time Hitch had brought me food, I’d gotten food poisoning because he’d left it out in the midday sun for two days. The donut was squished slightly, and the icing was stuck to the bag. I still ate it, grimacing at the harsh citrus flavor. Taking Hitch’s food was an instinct engraved from the days when Dad had given us a can of kidney beans for dinner and Hitch had drank the juice, leaving the beans for me.
I rarely went hungry anymore, three mostly square meals a day and granola in my pockets just in case, but habits didn’t die easy.
These days, Hitch only brought me food when he wanted my help, like when he saw a place he wanted to hit but was worried about doing it alone.
I got in the car, like I always did.
We drove past the cluster of seafood-themed restaurants with chipped paint decks, the beachfront park where there were always shifty-eyed men sitting under the slide, the single room library where all the books had been water damaged in the flood last year. The change was quick as we drove across Main Street, heading closer to the beach. The roads were freshly paved, the concrete a smooth black except where the sun had already started to pick away at it. The three-story homes lining the sides of the street were crouched on elegant stilts, with space underneath for a car or three. Most of the garages were empty, with the lights off and curtains drawn in the house. Come summer, the streets would be swarming with tourists and vacationers, but until then, most of the buildings nearest to the beach were unoccupied.
Hitch stopped as the sun started to go down at a house that was leaning precariously out towards the beach, tilted ever so slightly, the edge of its foundation buried in the shifting sand of the beach. It certainly looked deserted, with an overgrown yard and blue paint peeling off the door in sheets.
Hitch took his hammer out of the backseat, hoisting it over his shoulder. It was two feet of solid metal with rags wrapped around the head to muffle the sound of the hits. Hitch squared up, bending his knees and holding the hammer like a baseball bat. Before he could swing, though, the door creaked open on its own, the hinges squeaking. The house beyond was dark enough that I could only make out general shapes, glimpsing the curve of a sofa to the left, what was maybe the shimmer of a chandelier on the other side.
Hitch lowered his hammer, looking vaguely disappointed that he didn’t get to use it. “That’s…weird as hell.”
“Maybe the deadbolt broke, maybe they forgot to lock it, it doesn’t matter,” I hissed, checking our surroundings for other people again. “Just hurry up and get inside before someone calls the cops.”
Hitch flicked the lightswitch on the wall, and the lights flickered on. They were dim, buzzing audibly and blinking off occasionally. The walls were plastered with contrasting swatches of wallpaper and splattered with random colors. There was neon orange behind the dining table, a galaxy swirl in the kitchen, and on the ceiling there was a repeating floral pattern covered in nametag stickers. Each of the stickers was filled out with The Erlking. Chandeliers hung in every room, three or four for each, and rubber ducks sat on every table. A miniature carousel sat in the corner along with a towering model rocket.
Sand was heaped on every surface, at least a couple inches everywhere. It was piled in the corners and stuck to the walls, and it covered the floor in a thick blanket. Our hesitant steps into the house left footprints clearly outlined in the sand.
Hitch took a cursory look around and headed immediately for the TV mounted on the wall. “Look out the windows and tell me if anyone is coming.”
I shook the sand out of the blinds and pulled them open, then had to brush sand off of the window before I could see anything.
Hitch was quick, practiced at finding and appropriating the things that were worth taking. He came back to me with an armful of electronics and chandeliers, dumping it at my feet before turning to head deeper into the house again.
There was a thump, somewhere upstairs, and then footsteps, slow and deliberate. Hitch froze at the threshold of the room, then ran for the door with me just ahead of him, sand flying out from under our feet.
My hand was almost brushing the doorknob, close enough that I could see the light from the streetlamp outside streaming in through the cracks in the door. My fingers touched the wood and it gave under my touch, becoming malleable and warm. I yelped, stumbling backwards, and the door started to melt. The paint ran down in thick drops, pooling at the bottom of the door, and the wood warped like metal being welded. The soft edges of the door ran into the walls until there was no sign of an exit ever being there.
“Well, well, well,” said a cultured voice with just an edge of snooty elitism. “What do we have here?”
The man was well over eight feet tall, with long black hair covering his eyes. He was wearing a yellow raincoat with holes cut out of the hood to accommodate the deer antlers jutting upwards from his head. There was sand settled on his shoulders and hovering around his head like a halo.
“Who the fuck are you?” Hitch said, inching towards a window.
He smiled, just a little bit, and his teeth shone in the dim light. “I am the Erlking.”
Hitch nodded, and seemed about to respond. I grabbed him by the hand and pulled him towards the window. I could feel sand in the wind roaring against my back as the Erlking growled in anger, the grains scraping harshly against my cheeks.
We were almost to the window when Hitch was ripped away from me, and I came to a startled halt. The sand had formed long grasping arms that pressed Hitch against the floral wallpaper. His wrists were held tight, and as I watched, a sandy hand wrapped around his mouth and forced its way between his teeth. He gagged, and sand trickled out of the corners of his mouth.
The Erlking strolled towards him, not seeming to be in any sort of rush. “You know, I’m not very fond of your yapping.”
He made an idle gesture and the sand wrapped around my ankles, tethering me in place.
“I yap all the time,” Hitch said. “Three-time olympic yapper, that’s me. Best to just let me go now and save yourself some trouble.”
The Erlking tapped a manicured nail against Hitch’s mouth, hard enough to hurt, judging by the way he flinched away. “But why would I ever let you go when I’ve gone to this much trouble to catch you and your sister? It’s so hard, these days, to find people that no one will miss.”
Hitch struggled against the sand, trying to escape and failing. “What do you want with us, then? You just said it, we’re nobody.”
“I’m fae, dear one,” the Erlking said. “I get my power from my followers. And I think that you two will make lovely additions to my flock.”

He flicked Hitch's nose and Hitch gasped. Feathers started to form on his arms, popping out from under his skin in a spray of blood.
Hitch pushed off the wall, using his bound hands as a fulcrum, and his knees crashed into the Erlking’s stomach. The Erlking fell backwards, wheezing, and the sand around my ankles loosened.
Hitch made desperate eye contact with me as feathers shot up his neck and jerked his head towards the window. The message was obvious. Run.
The last thing I saw before crashing out the window and into freedom was Hitch’s body twisting, his arms wrenching into wings and feathers covering every inch of his skin. By the time I landed on the concrete outside, he was a small black bird, held tightly in the Erlking’s hands. The whole building was sinking into the ground, burnished-gold sand piling up over top and streaming from the windows.
Thirty years later, I saw Sam’s Supernatural Consultation and Neutralization written in neat, looping handwriting on a piece of paper taped to the door. The tape was peeling at the corners and the paper was yellowed with age, but there was obviously care put into the sign, in its perfectly centered text and looping floral designs drawn over the edges in gold marker.
I knocked, hesitantly, drawing my woolen coat closer around my shoulders. I’d bought it as a fiftieth birthday gift for myself, and I took comfort in the heavy weight of it over my shoulders.
“Coming!” someone called from within the depths of the office.
There were a couple crashes, and the sound of paper shuffling. Eventually, the door was opened by a young woman with ketchup stains on her shirt and pencils stuck through her hair.
“Hi, I’m Sam, I specialize in supernatural consultation and hunting, how may I help you today?” Sam said, customer-service pep in her voice. She stood in the doorway, solidly blocking entry into the office.
“My name is Ezra, I’m for a consultation. I emailed you but you didn’t respond?” I shifted in place, suddenly feeling awkward.
“Oh! Yeah, I lost the password for the email ages ago. Sorry for the bad welcome, I get lots of people thinking I’m crazy or pulling a prank and harassing me.”
She ushered me into the office, clearing papers off one of the chairs to make room for me to sit down. There was a collection of swords along one wall, all of them polished to perfection, several with deep knicks in the metal which indicated that they’d been used heavily.
“So what can I help you with?” Sam asked again, more sincere this time.
“Thirty years ago, my brother was turned into a bird,” I started. I’d told this story so many times that it barely felt ridiculous to say anymore. I was used to the disbelieving looks, the careful pity. But Sam just nodded along, face open and welcoming.
“I’ve almost given up on finding him, at this point,” I said. “But I saw your ad in the newspaper, and…here I am, I suppose.”
“Here you are,” Sam echoed, smiling. She pulled one of the pencils out of her hair and took a bit of paperwork off of one of her stacks, turning it over so that the blank side sat neatly in front of her. “Tell me everything.”
I told Sam everything, and she wrote it all down, pencil scratching along the paper.
The last part of the story was always the hardest to tell. “I left him there. I ran and I didn’t look back.”
I had been to dozens of detectives and investigators over the years, once the police had dropped Hitch’s case. I’d been to professional offices with smartly-dressed secretaries and met scraggly men in coffee shops. All of them had given me the same look, pity and annoyance all mixed up into a humor-the-crazy-lady soup. Sam, though, just seemed thoughtful.
Sam leaned forward and put a hand over mine, carefully, like she thought that I would pull away. “Sometimes you have to leave people behind.”
I tightened her hold on Sam’s hand and drew it towards me, like I could make Sam listen if only I squeezed tight enough. “But that’s why I’m here. I don’t want to leave him behind.”
“Okay then. I’ll do my best to help you.” Sam agreed, finally. Then she paused, and said softly, “You know…I think I met your brother once. He might have saved my life. He’s certainly why I started in this business.”
“Really? What happened?” I asked.
This is the story that Sam told me, related to the best of my abilities:
It was a new moon, so the only illumination came from the stars gazing idly down and distant porch lights shining across the scraggly brush of the dunes. Sam’s neighbors were decent people who cared about baby turtles, so the lights were a low, unobtrusive red, and the ocean sloshed like blood. Sam walked on the beach almost every night, drawing back the gauzy pink curtains and clambering out her bedroom window. She didn’t often bother to be quiet; her mama worked the late shift and came home exhausted. As long as Sam got home before the sun, her mama would never find out that she paced the shoreline and dreamed of inhaling sand until her lungs became their own beach.
The sky was lightening. The sun would come up soon, and that meant Sam’s time on the beach was over. She needed to get back to her real life, go to her fifth grade class and stop that nonsense, as her mother would say. Her mother loved to say things like that, pushing Sam into her proper place by implication alone.
“She’s a good kid, of course, but she’s a bit…” Her mother would trail off there, usually getting a commiserating expression from whoever she was talking to. Sam always wondered how that sentence would have finished. She’s a bit strange, maybe. She’s a bit intense. She’s a bit abrasive. She’s quiet enough but when Jason tried to steal her pencil in math class, she stabbed him in the hand so hard that the lead tattooed him.
Her mother was better, for the most part. The days of her stocking up the fridge, and leaving a post-it note on the counter, and leaving for days at a time were gone. But Sam still stepped around the place on the kitchen tile where her mother had collapsed and caved her head in, even though the bloodstains had been replaced with new tile.
“Your auntie got an abortion, you know,” her mother had said from her place on the couch, slurring her words. “Pill in the mail and then bam, no more baby.”
She had clapped her hands together to illustrate her point. Her mother jerked forward and grabbed Sam by the wrist, then, staring up at her until Sam met her eyes.
“I love you, you know? But sometimes I wonder…” She settled back onto the couch. “Yeah. I wonder.”
She’d gotten up, then, back to the kitchen. She’d been stumbling, a shambling zombie of a woman. The ground in the entryway of the kitchen was raised, ever so slightly, and her mother went down hard. Her head cracked against the tile, chin first, and she didn’t move.
Sam had been the one to call the ambulance. She had stared at the scattering of loose teeth on the ground while she waited, and considered what her life would be like with a dead mom. Not so bad, she thought, and immediately felt guilty for it.
Her mom was better, now, for the most part. But Sam still stepped around the place on the kitchen floor where she had collapsed. There was still a matchbox hidden under her bed with the gleaming shine of her mother’s lost teeth, two canines and a molar. It was nice, having a piece of her mom to keep. Even if she left again, Sam would still have part of her.
Sam sighed, and turned away from the ocean. As she faced towards the low dunes further up the beach, she saw a sandcastle sitting nestled among them. It was such a strange sight that her eyes skipped over it at first, almost automatically, disregarding it because it was so out of place.
Sam found sandcastles out on the beach sometimes, usually half-collapsed and on the verge of being washed away by the waves, but she had never seen anything like the sandcastle in front of her. It was life-sized, something that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Scottish highlands, with spires shooting up above her head and carefully etched out bricks lining each side. The front wall was dominated by an arched set of double doors, twice her height, with a portcullis nestled at the top, ready to be dropped. All of it was lovingly detailed, down to the rust on the tips of the towers and the wood grain of the door. It was made out of wet, densely-packed sand, held together impossibly. It had not been there two hours ago, when she had come to the beach.
There was a bird sitting on the overhang of the door, small and black.
As soon as she took a step towards the sandcastle, the bird shook out its feathers and swooped down towards Sam, landing at her feet with a little stumble.
“Hey, kid, get out of here,” said the bird.
Sam closed her eyes, very deliberately. When she opened them, the bird was still there. Sam considered herself a very reasonable person, so she immediately drew the most logical conclusion. The bird was, she was almost certain, a demon.
“Trust me, you don’t want to run into Mr. Salty, the queen bitch himself,” the bird said.
“Mr. Salty?” Sam inquired, polite as she knew how to be. She edged to the side, trying to get a good angle to kick the bird like a soccer ball.
The bird did something similar to a wince, all its feathers fluffing up then settling back down. “Ah, don’t call him that. He’d turn you into a toad.”
The bird gestured with its head, towards the looming sand structure. “That’s his castle. He’s in there, probably scuttling along the ceiling or some shit because that’s the sort of weirdo he is.”
Sam nodded, encouraging. She pulled back her foot and lined up her shot, the way she’d seen athletes do on TV. She aimed right for its sharp beak and let loose. The bird saw it coming, its beady eyes widening, and it cawed in distress. It flapped away, avoiding her kick only to fall backward into the sand in a scramble of wings.
“What’s your fucking problem?” it squawked. “I was trying to help you!”
“I don’t need the help of a demon,” Sam yelled, trying to remember the exorcism that her mama had taught her once, because her mama believed in being prepared for anything.
“I’m not a demon,” the bird said indignantly.
It was at about that moment that Sam gave up and just decided to roll with it.
“What are you, then?” Sam asked.
The bird shuffled its clawed feet, looking about as awkward as it could, given that it didn’t really have recognizable facial expressions. “Technically I’m a familiar of the Erlking, prince of the fae, but I prefer to be called Hitch.”
“You can’t blame me for assuming, though,” Sam said. “Ravens do tend to be associated with murder.”
“Hey, excuse you,” Hitch said. “I’m a rook, not a raven. Ravens are way bigger.”
“Sure,” Sam said, not really paying attention. Her eyes had caught on the details of the sandcastle, and she was transfixed by the slow spirals of the sand, the strange beauty of it. She found herself stepping towards the great doors, lifting a hand to knock, and as she did, the sand warped in front of her eyes, heaving itself towards her with bulging slowness. The door creaked open before her, revealing a vast, empty room. Just before she stepped inside, she felt a piercing pain in her foot, and she yelped, leaping backwards.
Hitch pecked her again, really digging his beak in. “Don’t be an idiot.”
Sam glared at him, rubbing her foot. About to retort, she finally really took in the room inside the sandcastle, and her words died in her throat.
There was a body just past the threshold of the door, face down and limbs hanging limp at its sides. Long hair splayed out in a halo around its head.
“Don’t,” Hitch warned, suddenly serious. “Just leave, kid, I mean it. I’ve seen too many people go down this road and you don’t want to be one of them.”
Sam ignored him. She made her way across the beach, slipping with every step. The sand felt deeper, piling up around her feet in silent drifts. She picked up the nearest stick and poked the body with it through the door, ready to leap back if anything went wrong, staying firmly outside of the sandcastle.
This close, Sam could tell that it used to be a woman. Her head wasn’t attached to her body. It hadn’t been a clean amputation, either. Her upper body was bruised, with chunks taken out of it, and the bones in her neck hung mangled, not connected to anything.
“Well, I warned you,” Hitch said, defeated. “I did warn you.”
Sam nudged the head with the end of the stick, nudging it over so that she could see the face. Her mother stared back at her, torn to pieces, breath still wheezing from her lungs. She wasn’t blinking, just gazing forward with glazed eyes. Sweat dripped down from her hairline.
Sam screamed and dropped the stick, tripping over herself in her haste to get away.
Her mother’s eyes were wide and pleading, and she was mouthing desperate words at Sam. Her vocal cords were broken to bits, and the only sound that came out was a strained groan.
The head rolled, inching closer to Sam like a grotesque caterpillar.
Her mother gasped for air, torn lips fluttering. Finally, comprehensible words came out. “Help. Help me, daughter.”
“That’s not your mother,” Hitch said, quiet.
Sam knew that. Her mother was sleeping back at home, and anyways her mom had never asked for her help. She had an aversion to accepting charity, as she put it.
“Okay,” Sam said, shaking all over. “Okay.”
She backed away from the sandcastle, not looking away.
“Failure,” her mother hissed as she stepped away. “I never wanted a daughter like you.”
The sun came up over the horizon. The sandcastle, Hitch, and her mom all disintegrated into sand as the light hit them.
The beach, the next night, was almost exactly how I remembered it. The beams of our flashlights sent light bouncing across the dunes, illuminating the waves, and I imagined faces in the foam of the waves.
“I’ve been back here a hundred times. There’s nothing left,” I said.
Sam took the car key out of her purse and pointed it at the sand, adjusting the sword slung over her shoulder in order to do it. The key had belonged to Hitch; Sam had requested an item of his, and it was the only thing I had left. She rested the key on the sand and drew a circle around it, inscribing symbols around the borders.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
Sam shrugged. “Not much, really. I’m…I guess you could say that I’m knocking.”
The key laid inert on the sand for long enough that I was just about to give up and go home, admit to myself that Hitch was dead and that I was a fool to believe that Sam could actually help me. Then a building started to take shape, flickering in and out like it was struggling to get away. With a pop of displaced air, the sandcastle settled into existence.
Sam banged on the entryway. Nothing happened. She did it again, harder, and scowled when the door still didn’t open.
“We demand entrance, under your honor,” Sam yelled. There was a hard rush of wind, and I gripped Sam’s arm to keep my balance, but the doors cracked open reluctantly.
The inside of the sandcastle consisted of one enormous hall, the roof arching up out of sight. Rafters crisscrossed from wall to wall, and a cobbled path led further into the building, but other than that, it was completely empty, except for the birds. There were thousands of them, perched on the rafters or hopping along the ground. They parted in front of Sam and I, and reformed behind us, leaving us in a small pocket of open space. They were all black-feathered, with sharp beaks and beady eyes.
The Erlking sat on a throne at the end of the hall, lounging across it with his feet up on the armrest. He watched them as they came forward, the soft caw of the birds the only sound.
“I am here to bargain for the life of my brother,” I said, with as much dignity as I could muster, before the Erlking could say anything.
The Erlking ignored her, tilting his head to look at Sam. “I remember you. I almost got you, once.”

Sam glared at him but didn’t respond.
“You want your brother,” The Erlking said to me, and he almost sounded amused. “Then go get him.”
As if by some sort of silent signal, every bird in the room took flight at once, and their cawing made me think of screams. I covered my head against the flapping of their wings, and my vision was quickly obscured by the chaotic movement of them. I found myself on my knees, just trying to escape them.
A hand met my shoulder. Sam urged me to my feet, and together we ran for the edge of the room, where the swarm was the thinnest. We pressed ourselves into the corner and the swarm spiraled tighter and tighter at the center of the room. It went on until there seemed to be no differentiation between the birds, all of them fused together into one creature.
When the chaos died down, the birds had become one mass, with wings and eyes and talons sticking out of its flesh, thrashing and chirping. Human body parts stuck out of it, bulging out from the feathers. It was hands, mostly, with a couple knees or staring eyes. The bird amalgamation had no recognizable facial features, but there was one long beak extending from the front of its head. Most of the body parts were concentrated around the beak, and they peeked out from where the beak connected with muscle, or grew from the tongue, nestled between the two crushing halves of the beak.
It turned its beak down and crawled forward, using the hands to balance. The fingers scrambled over the ground. I was afraid of centipedes as a child, and I felt that same crawling dread when it started moving.
“Holy shit,” Sam whispered, which was rather disappointing, because I had been hoping that at least one of us knew what to do.
The creature turned, a lurching movement that crushed some of the hands underneath it, and started heaving itself slowly towards our corner.
“Better hurry up!” the Erlking called from his throne.
It was blocking the exit, by then. The shifting body of it had moved to block us off. It ambled towards us and I tried to sink further into the corner.
As it approached, getting close enough that I could smell the stink of it, I saw a flash of a tattoo on one of the hands. I leaned in, trying to find it again, like looking for dolphins surfacing in the ocean. And again, I caught a glimpse of a duck tattoo, the tattoo that Hitch had gotten on his hand as a teenager.
I ripped away from Sam’s death grip and ran for the monster.
I fell to my knees in front of it, wincing as I impacted the ground, and reached into the nest of hands. I could feel them tearing at my forearms and ripping into me with their sharp nails, but I kept going. I pressed further in, up to my shoulder in a writhing mass of limbs, aiming for the spot where I had last seen that tattoo.
The hands were tugging at me, wrapping around my back and hair. They were pulling together, trying to draw me completely into the mass of them. I was aware of Sam at my side, anchoring me in place and bashing any hand that got too close with her sword or the sparks that leapt from her hands with muttered words. But I didn’t think it would be enough. They were too strong, and there were too many of them.
I was up to my waist in the hands when something grabbed my palm. I felt the way it clung to me, and the calluses on its palm, and I knew that I had found my brother.
I flung herself back. The hands didn’t want to let me go, and they fought the whole way, but slowly, I made progress. I kept hold of Hitch’s hand in mine the whole time, gripping it as hard as I could. I finally broke free, Hitch with me, and Sam was immediately charging the creature, able to use her sword with much greater strength without being worried about injuring Hitch. She swung it forward, and it sliced through the wrist of one of the hands. It fell without a sound, red sand flowing out of it. It deflated until it looked like dirty laundry, just a piece of limp flesh. The creature shrieked, scuttling away enough that the door was finally accessible. The three of us ran for it, Sam and I supporting Hitch between us.
I looked back as I left and found the Erlking staring right at me.
“Interesting,” he murmured, his voice carrying impossibly across the vast space between us.
The sandcastle collapsed behind us, the great walls falling in on themselves. We were out in the morning sun, the sandcastle disappearing as we watched. Hitch was on the ground in front of me, as young as he’d been thirty years ago, when he was captured. He started laughing, feathers puffing out of his mouth. He laughed until he cried and I hugged him in the way that he’d held me when I was young, in the times when my life had been defined by hunger and fear.
Hitch left, afterwards. He scratched at the pinhole scars covering his body, where feathers burst through his skin, and pulled his long sleeves down around his wrists. He didn’t know where he was going but he told me that he needed time
I had spent thirty years worth of time without him. I wanted to grab my brother by the shoulders and beg him to stay. But he flinched when I hugged him goodbye and he refused to go near sand and he stared distrustfully at the birds chirping in the trees. Hitch needed to go away and I loved him too much to stop him.
I sat out on the beach every morning. I felt the sun on my face and I waited for Hitch to come home.

Audio log
Patient: Mina Paraan
Medically Recommended Therapeutic Journal
Entry 1:
I was told by my psychiatrist to start a journal to put my feelings and thoughts form. Well I guess first off, my name is Mina and I'm a T'thuul. Our species are 2 yar tall. About 1 segment on most sentient lower limbs. While we do have claws, they are meant for fruit. We have thick fur, well, I used to until the incident... I think I'm done for now... I don't want to think about them or I might lose more fur from stress.
Entry 12:
My psychiatrist again told my to put all my thoughts into the journal. What I'm feeling, what I'm doing. I just want to hide under my blanket. It's made of woven varn fur, super soft and warm, and most importantly safe. There's this new fruit at the market today, it was really sweet. Its rind was kinda fuzzy, it tickled my nose. I think the merchant said it came from Sol. I...I think I'm done for today.
Entry 35:
During the bi-weekly visits to my therapist, they try to get me to talk about the incident. But when I think about that day every thing starts to turn red. It's not because I'm angry or anything, it's...Well, we are not the strongest or the fastest, the most intimidating. All we have going for us is a type of psychic ability we gained from millennia of hiding from predators. We can sense the potential for violence in others. We were actually asked by the council to determine if a new race would be able to join without too many problems. I have that very same ability, though mine is slightly different from the norm. A type of synesthesia. I can see the level of potential violence as the color red. The same color as the poison rachu fruit. So far as I have seen, even the most passive races have some potential for violence. From the Shu, a plant race who, when I looked at them, had red coloring on their leaf fronds, to the Jeer, a reptilian swamp species, who's claw were dripping with red. They were the worst I had seen, until them... I'm tired... I don't want to talk any more.
Entry 59:
The therapist was being pushy today. I didn't want to talk about them but here we are. Fine...Human, Terran, Earthling, Solarian... Whatever they want to call themselves. They have the most potential for violence I have ever seen. Remember when I said I could see potential as a red light on the person in question. Well, I was commissioned to go and meet the human emissary as a good will ambassador and to secretly see how much potential they have.
I didn't even get through the front door of the embassy. Great plate glass windows lined the front of the building. It just looked like a bloody aquarium, I could even swear I saw gigantic shadows swimming through that ocean of red. Apparently, someone inside saw me standing out on the lawn, they went and got the ambassador... I saw a shadow moving closer in the inky red, closer and closer. Hyperventilating, as I watched my death approaching. As he opened the front doors, all the red in the building came flooding out across the lawn. I could almost feel the slick feel of blood on my fur, teeth at my throat.
The ambassador asked if he could help me. I fainted. And that's why I have to talk to a psychiatrist two times a week.

(Reposting this over here since JoJo is a very frequently posted franchise over here also cause I want more people to see it since I spent like 3 hours going through the art book, getting scans, setting up Imgur posts, and writing this all up.)
So recently on my trip to another state, I was able to get my hands on the recently translated and officially release JoJo 6251 and wanted to go through the entire things character encyclopedia to find anything worth while posting about for those looking for scans/evidence for their scaling. This is my first time ever attempting something like this and I’m just using my phone so I apologize if some of the scans are blurry or not cropped the best. I’ll be ordering this by what concepts/character are being talked about, not part by part, so feel free to skip around to what you find interesting.
Hamon and Hamon users:
Descriptions of hamon having the same energy as the sun, along with life energy, along with being stated to primarily work on living beings. this is backed up further in the frequently used terms section where it also goes into detail about how hamon’s capabilities seemingly have limitless potential, a statement in straizo’s section also adds onto the effectiveness on living beings claim.
Hamon at its absolute peak can see fate and future deaths, this should be applicable to characters like Ultimate Lifeform Kars as well.
Hamon also seems to have the ability to “restore humanity” in the undead.
Hamon is described as making cells going “haywire”
Once Joseph’s hamon training is done, he is described as having abilities “second to none” and due to it he was able to beat Esidisi, Wamuu, and even the ultimate being Kars
Elaboration on what the Red Stone is, being described as a “ray of light”
Its main section is where it gets interesting, being described as reflecting light millions of times in itself before launching it out in a singular condensed point could affect how you calc it but I’m not calcer so…
Vampires, Zombies, Pillarmen, and perfected beings
The stone mask is described as drawing out the wearer’s “undiscovered abilities”
DIO’s regeneration is described as “Even if you split him in two, he will regenerate in the blink of an eye” and that he’ll “go on living forever as long as hamon doesn’t dissolve his brain”
Pillarmen’s bodies are compared to rubber, along with strength and abilities beyond imaging.
Explanation on Wamuu’s Divine Sandstorm
Once being the ultimate lifeform, Kars is described as “unstoppably powerful.”*
Random tidbits on what the ULF gives along with regeneration and DNA statements along with more backing this up once kars becomes the ULF
ULF is described as being immune to hamon, which should include its various haxes
Stands in general
Described as being made of life energy and controlled by their users strength of their users psyche and fighting instincts. Along with this stand users attracted other stand users
Prediction type stands are described as “following their directions should lead to victory in battle” this is backed up later by what statements in Thoth’s proper entry says
Star Platinum, The World, and Crazy Diamond
Star Platinum is described as being the number one stand due to various combined factors and also that it’s timestop will ”continue to expand this power”
However crazy diamond is said to be comparable if not stronger in strength, but lesser in accuracy
But The World has consistently more statements saying it is the strongest and fastest stand along with this it’s timestop will continually expand as DIO’s head gets used to Jonathan’s body
Silver Chariot
Outright said to easily strike light speed targets
It exchanges defense for more speed when removing its armor
Emperor
Described as not that quick, and built to close range fights, however, since it’s bullets are apart of the stand, it allows Hol Horse to manipulate their trajectory
Judgement, range, and potential consequences for cacling
Judgement is described as possibly having the largest scale out of any stand(part 3)
This would include stands like Geb, and The Lovers along with The Sun which has its own very impressive range and calc
Like I’ve said before I’m not a expect or a calcer at all, but I’d be interested to see at least how this could affect star platinum’s inhaling feat.
Joseph’s still got it
Joseph is described as being in his prime still in Part 3
Various random stands and users
Tower Of Gray is faster than Star Platinum
Hierophant Green’s emerald splash can even harm Star Platinum badly
Hanged man is referred to as Light speed and needing “a very fast attack speed” for any attacker
Red Hot Chili Pepper’s abilities are referred to as rivaling Crazy Diamonds however it’s to note that he had to amp himself up to get to that point, also when in the wires he’s described as “near Lightspeed”
The Hand is said to be “fairly slow”
More explanation on how Heaven’s Door works
Both Bug Eatens are described as highly intelligent
And that’s everything I found interesting enough to be worth posting, hope you found some use from this post.

So recently on my trip to another state, I was able to get my hands on the recently translated and officially release JoJo 6251 and wanted to go through the entire things character encyclopedia to find anything worth while posting about for those looking for scans/evidence for their scaling. This is my first time ever attempting something like this and I’m just using my phone so I apologize if some of the scans are blurry or not cropped the best. I’ll be ordering this by what concepts/character are being talked about, not part by part, so feel free to skip around to what you find interesting.
Hamon and Hamon users:
Descriptions of hamon having the same energy as the sun, along with life energy, along with being stated to primarily work on living beings. this is backed up further in the frequently used terms section where it also goes into detail about how hamon’s capabilities seemingly have limitless potential, a statement in straizo’s section also adds onto the effectiveness on living beings claim.
Hamon at its absolute peak can see fate and future deaths, this should be applicable to characters like Ultimate Lifeform Kars as well.
Hamon also seems to have the ability to “restore humanity” in the undead.
Hamon is described as making cells going “haywire”
Once Joseph’s hamon training is done, he is described as having abilities “second to none” and due to it he was able to beat Esidisi, Wamuu, and even the ultimate being Kars
Elaboration on what the Red Stone is, being described as a “ray of light”
Its main section is where it gets interesting, being described as reflecting light millions of times in itself before launching it out in a singular condensed point could affect how you calc it but I’m not calcer so…
Vampires, Zombies, Pillarmen, and perfected beings
The stone mask is described as drawing out the wearer’s “undiscovered abilities”
DIO’s regeneration is described as “Even if you split him in two, he will regenerate in the blink of an eye” and that he’ll “go on living forever as long as hamon doesn’t dissolve his brain”
Pillarmen’s bodies are compared to rubber, along with strength and abilities beyond imaging.
Explanation on Wamuu’s Divine Sandstorm
Once being the ultimate lifeform, Kars is described as “unstoppably powerful.”*
Random tidbits on what the ULF gives along with regeneration and DNA statements along with more backing this up once kars becomes the ULF
ULF is described as being immune to hamon, which should include its various haxes
Stands in general
Described as being made of life energy and controlled by their users strength of their users psyche and fighting instincts. Along with this stand users attracted other stand users
Prediction type stands are described as “following their directions should lead to victory in battle” this is backed up later by what statements in Thoth’s proper entry says
Star Platinum, The World, and Crazy Diamond
Star Platinum is described as being the number one stand due to various combined factors and also that it’s timestop will ”continue to expand this power”
However crazy diamond is said to be comparable if not stronger in strength, but lesser in accuracy
But The World has consistently more statements saying it is the strongest and fastest stand along with this it’s timestop will continually expand as DIO’s head gets used to Jonathan’s body
Silver Chariot
Outright said to easily strike light speed targets
It exchanges defense for more speed when removing its armor
Emperor
Described as not that quick, and built to close range fights, however, since it’s bullets are apart of the stand, it allows Hol Horse to manipulate their trajectory
Judgement, range, and potential consequences for cacling
Judgement is described as possibly having the largest scale out of any stand(part 3)
This would include stands like Geb, and The Lovers along with The Sun which has its own very impressive range and calc
Like I’ve said before I’m not a expect or a calcer at all, but I’d be interested to see at least how this could affect star platinum’s inhaling feat.
Joseph’s still got it
Joseph is described as being in his prime still in Part 3
Various random stands and users
Tower Of Gray is faster than Star Platinum
Hierophant Green’s emerald splash can even harm Star Platinum badly
Hanged man is referred to as Light speed and needing “a very fast attack speed” for any attacker
Red Hot Chili Pepper’s abilities are referred to as rivaling Crazy Diamonds however it’s to note that he had to amp himself up to get to that point, also when in the wires he’s described as “near Lightspeed”
The Hand is said to be “fairly slow”
More explanation on how Heaven’s Door works
Both Bug Eatens are described as highly intelligent
And that’s everything I found interesting enough to be worth posting, hope you found some use from this post.

A few weeks ago I renovated (read: painted) our basement to move our home office from an upstairs spare bedroom to the downstairs family den. In order to do so, I needed to do quite a bit of cleaning, including hitting some old cat puke spots with the wet bissell carpet cleaning vacuum. I kind of get in the zone when cleaning, so when I was done downstairs, I took the dyson vacuum cleaner upstairs and hit a few spots that needed it most, left it in the hallway, followed by the bissell vacuum because our dogs think the outside corner of our sectional is the best whiz spot in town (it has since been shingled with plastic and protected with puppy pads, all's good - good enough.) The carpet cleaner vacuum went into the kitchen to just be put aside, because it doesn't really have a place to go, it kind of bounces between our downstairs storage closet and the laundry room off the kitchen where it takes up a lot of space. I got tired of it just being in the kitchen so decided to bring it back downstairs into the basement office (wanting to put it in the closet, but the closet was being occupied by the paint supplies,) moved it into the hallway after a day because it was in the way of moving some large furniture we were getting rid of, and just kind of left it for, idk, maybe four days.
Anyway, so almost two weeks-ish have gone by, I'm using my computer in our "brand new" home office when I get up to refresh my coffee, to find that the cat has vomited AAALLLL over the stairs. Great. So I clean up what I can with paper towels, douse it in nature's miracle, get the carpet cleaning vacuum and wouldn't you know it, the spots I cleaned turned out way brighter than the rest of the stairs, duh! But I'm busy and can't carpet-clean the entire stairway right then, so I move the vacuum into the entry hall landing where it lives for maybe another 3 days untouched. (We don't use our front doors and the guests we have over do not use the front doors, it's fine.)
So it's, idk, 2 weeks since the major cleaning, I'm laying in bed, my husband and I are watching TikToks, and some "husband test" TikTok comes up, and he pauses it and thinks for a moment before asking, very politely, "Is the vacuum in the hallway some kind of like, reddit test? Where you're waiting for me to act on it or do something about it?" He's totally up to speed on weaponized incompetence, and I share stories I find interesting with him about what some people have to deal with when it comes to their spouses, etc. but like me, he is usually very engrossed in his ongoing projects when he's not at work, so things fall to the wayside sometimes. But hey, me too! And, kind of shocked, maybe a little offended? I tell him, "Of course not, I left it there because I thought I might use it again soon and didn't feel like putting it away right after the cat puked all over the stairs."
Him: "No the other vacuum."
Me: "???"
Him: "The one upstairs."
Ah yes, the dyson. The dyson that I left sitting in the upstairs hallway and never put away since I used it to clean the now-finished home office 2-going-on-3 weeks prior -- even though we all walk past it multiple times a day to get to and from our bathroom and bedroom.
I assured him it was not a test, only an exposé of my own genuine incompetence.
I also never finished carpet-cleaning the rest of the stairs.
ETA: Missed a word, sorry.

Hello all. I’m new to this group and to RV living in general. I’ve owned a Catalina coachmen travel trailer for about 6 months. But my problem is whenever I move the RV to dumb or anything the doors (bathroom, screen door and main entry door) won’t latch/lock right. Main door won’t lock with the deadbolt. And the screen door sags so it won’t latch. And the bathroom door won’t meet the strike plate to stay closed. The RV is level. Steps are set as low as they can go.
On showroom floor, all doors worked fine. Starting to get frustrated with these door issues.
Help please. Thanks!

I have an out of state Airbnb with a 2008ish Genie opener and wireless keypad.
One of the Airbnb guests got frustrated because the door didn't open on first combo entry and hit a bunch of buttons including "program". Now the opener won't open the garage and I think it's stuck in program mode. The guests do not have access to open the door to allow for resetting or reprogramming opener.
Is there any way to get it out of programming mode without resetting it? They have tried removing the batteries and the pad still won't open the door.
Am I F'd? I live in Texas and the home is in Wisconsin.

Because of the way our roof on two sides of our house slopes, water is channeled to fall on either side of our front door. It is damaging the entry way and rockery.
Rain is only a issue in the spring, since we live in a high plain desert area. Our contractor suggested putting in short gutter runs (we had none previously) with rain chains that flow into rain barrels. But the rain barrels that we've seen are plastic or things like IBCs and are made to be put near a garden. We haven't seen any that are more decorative and can be put by a front door. We are also considered large stone planters or ceramic urns for the water to run into, which would be more decorative. But it would be nice to be able to utilize the rain water.
Any ideas?