Is missing someone who they had lost forever

I blocked all of them a few days after this post was made lol. I just decided enough is enough and it’s not unreasonable to want my privacy on social media, his family is his. Especially all his first and second aunties, grandmas, cousins etc. it was a lot of them to be honest. SUCH A BIG WEIGHT off my shoulders. I also don’t post too much about my baby anymore either. When we go out as a family I asked my fiance to no longer tag me or post to his stories what we are doing or where we’re going. Too many people get fomo for some odd reason.
Well anyway I think they all noticed because not a single one of them liked my fiancé’s Mother’s Day post about me (I checked through his account and yes he lets me)
I don’t really care, I hope this means they just leave me alone. If they ever confronted me I would just tell them I needed my privacy. Also my anxiety has been getting better. Baby and I have been going out alone a couple times a week, and I feel more confident in telling people NO whether it be strangers or family!
If you missed it here’s the original post:
Today I decided to go up against my ppa that usually prevents me from leaving the house with my 8 month old to do simple errands. I took a picture of him in the cart because I was so proud of myself for going out alone and setting it up not knowing how and then going in to get our stuff with baby in the cart. That little picture was a .05 second of my happy baby with me doing funny faces behind the camera. He actually started screaming bloody murder in the clothing isle but despite my anxiety I stayed in the store and checked out. I say this because my fiance has a very large family and they ALL want to see the baby and it is just simply too hard. My son is not an easy baby. Our family visits always get cut short because he starts screaming. I can barely go to the store with him. My IG pictures don’t mean my life is easy peasy and I can just take him anywhere and let anyone do whatever with him like a toy.
I posted that picture to IG of my baby in the cart. Then someone who’s a very extended in law of mine responds “hi little guy hopefully I get to meet you one day just saying” and let me tell you why my blood is boiling if you’re still reading.
4 months ago I took my baby to go meet all the extended in laws at a park in one swift gathering. The same in law who just messaged me on IG is the same person who walked up to my car window when I was trying to breast feed my baby, I felt extremely violated and I left right after. I didn’t even get out to say bye. They had all fought over taking turns holding the baby and freaked him out beyond soothing and then the one in law follows to get a peek through the tinted window when my fiance was asking her to walk away and she wouldn’t. So yeah I haven’t spoken to her or really any of them RIGHTFULLY so.
So what gives her the audacity??? If she wants to meet the baby then maybe apologize for over stepping? And stop trying to contact me or wait for me to invite you over or out. TALK TO MY FIANCE. THATS YOUR FAMILY. I keep telling him I’m taking a step back from his dad’s side of the family, he’s in charge of making the visits happen not me. I don’t even plan to tell him she messaged me, I want a completely hands off approach and to be left alone honestly. I think I might take all of my in laws off Instagram, I miss my privacy and being able to post what I want.

"hello, new visitor, if you're seeing this you're in the land of the vanished, if you're here it means that no one has thought about you for several months, fear not I wrote a book about my journey, in hopes that it'll help newcomers like you".
It was a tuesday, 6am, my brother Joe, jumped on a plane to Canada.
He was successful, or so I thought.
At the time I expected him to return home in 2-3 months, however this wasn't the case, after 4 months I finally called the cops to report a missing person.
Eventually five months passed and I decided to go searching for him.
After another month I got on a plane to Canada.
"What if he was kidnapped and then brutally mutilated," I thought as my heart raced.
Joe gave me the hotel he was at before he left, this gave me a few clues but it wasn't much, when I arrived I asked the manager if he saw Joe leave the hotel or if he knew about Joe's whereabouts.
"I never saw Joe leave, his room is still empty so you can check it out," the manager said. "What room" I responded. "Room 303, I'll escort you there" the manager said.
The bright lights reflected the hall floors. "Why would this man be following me into Joe's room, what if he killed Joe, what if I'm next" I thought as I began imagining my corpse in a dumpster next to a Denny's somewhere.
After a few minutes of going upstairs I remembered my 5th birthday, that day I learned that all my friends were fake, not a single one came to my birthday, neither did my parents, In fact they didn't even set up the party, Joe set up the entire party, helped me set up invitations for my friends, and was the only person who even bothered to be there.
"Can't believe I forgot about Joe for those five months," I thought as we finally arrived at room 303.
"Ladies first," the manager said.
I became paranoid as I entered the room with the manager behind me.
*Slam.
The door was slammed closed as I investigated the room, not thinking much about it I continued investigating, first I checked the bedroom, I found Joe's phone randomly on the floor.
Then I heard the sound of someone locking. The manager lunged at me with a knife. Adrenaline rushed through my blood stream as I dodged the knife, dashed into the kitchen, and grabbed a knife. The manager suddenly became scared, or at least he looked scared since I also had a knife.
I was able to unlock the door while simultaneously watching him for any sudden movements, my back leaned on the door as I unlocked the door without looking, I'm very lucky the lock didn't require a key from the inside.
I swiftly opened the door and ran downstairs, the manager followed, my legs began shaking uncontrollably. The adrenaline had officially ran out, the manager continued the chase.
"There's cameras up here!!," this one sentence alone made the manager stop what he was doing, go on the floor and start crying knowing he would be exposed for his attempt at killing.
I became very confused, "why was he crying" I wondered. I then realized this was my chance to escape, I escaped that horrid hotel.
"Turn on you stupid thing!!" I yelled at the phone as it refused to turn on due to its lack of battery. I decided to find a hotel where I could charge my phone and rest for a bit.
I couldn't go to this one since the manager almost killed me, luckily for me a hotel wasn't too far away from the other one, a common trend done by many hotel companies.
I rented a room for $70 a day, I had $100 left.
"Did the manager kill Joe, he might've been trying to kill me in order to ensure no one finds his remains," this thought alone had me up the entire night.
I continued my investigation believing there's still a chance that he's alive, I checked Joe's phone in hopes of finding his whereabouts.
I found a few messages on his phone, except a cut off message on bumble. He was messaging a woman named Katelyn. "Maybe he was living with that woman's home" I thought.
After reading enough of the messages I was able to find the woman's address.
On my way there I felt a bit light headed, I clasped onto the ground, all thoughts vanished as I began to fade away.
I woke up with my shirt soaked in water, same with my pants. My feet felt the wet carpet touch my feet as the coldness sunk in.
I was surrounded by darkness, I ventured this darkness in fear, what if I wasn't alone, what if I just feared the dark.
I would soon realize that both of these were true.
My eyes saw a light illuminating in the distance, I dashed towards the light, feeling warmth for the first time being in this place, it felt amazing until I encountered another human being.
"Judging from your number, you must be a newcomer," the man said.
"Follow me" the man added. He refused to elaborate further, I didn't know anything about this place so I reluctantly followed him.
The man gave off a very creepy vibe, he wore a black coat with a yellow stripe on his left sleeve, his sleeve had a hole revealing his or a number, 64 was his number.
"What's your name," I said attempting to strike some conversation, instead of keeping the strange atmosphere. He continued walking without a sound to be heard from him.
A flashback struck me reminding me of the very possible chance that this nameless man could try and kill me.
"It's not like you have a choice" my brain told me as I continued to follow him.
A sudden bright light from the sky hit me. I noticed a village in the direction we were headed.

Over a century ago, a British archeologist named Howard Carter began excavations in the unforgiving Egyptian Desert with the hopes of discovering something; something that remained a mystery for many centuries: the 3400-year-old tomb of an ancient king, Tutankhamun.
The site Carter chose for this excavation project was the Valley of the Kings, which was a burial place of ancient kings for many centuries. Before Carter, several archeologists carried out excavations in the Valley. And in the process, discovered several tombs and artifacts.
But archeologists weren't the only ones the Valley attracted. For generations, the Valley was raided by thieves, who exploited it in every way possible. So much so that when Carter arrived at the site with his men in 1917, they found themselves standing atop 30-foot piles of debris stones.
And it's for the same reason why many archeologists questioned Carter's sanity when news of his excavation reached them. Without exception, all of them labelled the Valley a heavily exhausted Site.
But Carter would listen to no one.
He gathered all the resources, and manpower, and for the next five years, went all in into the excavations with the support of his rich patron George Herbert, 5th Earl of Carnarvon.
Those five years were a rough period for the passionate archeologist because up until the end of it, he wouldn't discover anything worthwhile to justify the enormous money being spent.
At one point Carnarvon lost all his hope and called Carter to inform him about the partnership break. But Carter was somehow able to talk Carnarvon out of his decision. He pointed out how some artifacts discovered by another archeologist nearby had Tutankhamun's name inscribed on them. And that Tut must be lying somewhere underneath that place waiting to be found.
Finally, the day arrived in November 1922.
After back-breaking labor, nasty heartbreaks, and burning ₹210+ crores, it happened. A boy carrying water slipped and fell over what at first seemed like a stone. It was, of course, a stone, except it was the first stone step of the flight of stairs to the tomb.
In the weeks that followed, the stairs kept spiraling downwards reaching a distance of 26 ft. At the end of the final step, one of the workers' picks clanked against a limestone wall. Unsure of what was inside, Carter made a tiny crack in the wall and reached a candle inside—to check if the air inside was harmless to breathe. After reassuring, he widened the crevice to look inside the chamber…
When his eyes recalibrated to the low light of the chamber, after a brief blurriness at the candlelight, he witnessed the softly illuminated objects gradually coming to life—objects that last saw light over 3400 years ago. Carnarvon asked from behind, "Can you see anything?" Almost breathless, Carter answered, "Yes… wonderful things!"
At last, the team discovered the Tomb of the 19-year-old Boy King Tutankhamun. To date, it's the most intact tomb of a pharaoh to be ever discovered.
In the years leading up to the opening of Tut's Coffin in 1925, over 5398 objects were found in the chambers of the tomb, including furniture, golden jewels, figurines, musical instruments, board games, war weapons, clothes, vessels, carts, and a number of other things that Tut would need in the afterlife. Almost every object inside the tomb was either made of Gold or covered with it.
Tut's mummy lay inside three layers of coffins, with the innermost one made entirely of solid Gold and the rest wooden. Altogether, the total value of the entire collection in the tomb is estimated to be around $27 million in today's money.
Now, it's been a century since Carter opened that Tomb, but still, there's been no discovery in archeology that has matched its magnitude. Nothing ever has remotely come close to that.
Doesn't this story sound ridiculous to you in a way? How delusional someone should be to continue digging for five straight years despite seeing no evidence of progress?
On top of it all, Carter or nobody knew whether the Valley of Kings was exactly where Tut's tomb was located. They just went with their hunch. Five whole years and hundreds of crores would have been for nothing if the hunch turned out to be wrong. Carter knew this. But still, he took that leap of faith and persevered.
If Carter's mental strength and confidence are one thing, the faith Carnarvon had in Carter is everything. I couldn't understand the logic behind Carnovan's decision. Why would someone in their right mind bet a ridiculous amount of money on something that was just a theory with little to no evidence? What if Tut was never buried in the valley? Is it because Carter was a better salesman or was it Carnorvan's conviction that had him pouring money regardless? We know not.
But it's their combined belief, intuition, and effort that made this ultimate discovery possible.
It's easy to get discouraged when you don't see the results early on. But despite that, if you trust your guts, believe in your skills, and keep putting in the work.. one day you will find your own version of Tut's treasures.
So keep digging. For if you never dig, you will never know.

Rise up. It is time to return.
Arose
A Rose
Rose
Flower
Thorn. Prick. Blood. Drop. Tear. B. O. 1 2 3
Here we are again. Staring at the beginning. Everything is in chaos and yet it manages to keep on passing by just the same as always. Most people by now are aware that things just don’t seem to make sense anymore and no one really knows what to do. I mean many seem to have an opinion on what ought to happen, but actual action is what I am talking about. How does thought turn into action? How do collected actions become a movement? How do the People use the Power of the People? The People Unite. How? Turn to each other of course. Brothers and Sisters of the same Source. Sons and Daughters. In Equality.
Too long has everyone been waiting for someone else to come do it for them. Been trying to create and fabricate over and over again words and rituals to try to control the divine powers of the cosmos. It does not work like that. There is no magic spell to wash away your sins. You must atone through action to make up for any harm you have caused intentionally or unintentionally. You still have time to repent. The amount of time you have is counted in the seconds of your life. Not a single second is promised to you so the gamble is up to you to choose. Freewill. Life your life as you always have or make changes, up to you. Only you will know if you are living righteously and not self righteously. Testing has already begun and will continue. No you will not know when it is a test or not. That is the point. Did you think that I would come to you in a form where you would be all fearing? Oh no. Why? Because you would simply put on an act for me and kiss ass. I came hidden in the ordinary. Poor and common. I have had an inside view of the systems created and how humans have chosen to run things, how systems claiming to protect people have failed and how the system that talks good does not actually do good. I see where things are not working and where people think they can make decisions for other human beings to determine what is best for them without asking them. That is not okay. Nothing gives you right over another’s life. And so many forgot what integrity is. Doing the right thing when no one is looking. Well, so many thought their power here was real and man made a deal with the Devil, Satan, Son of Samuel, Son of Man, to make man the concept of “God” and tried to lock me away. I gave up everything to prove it is not easy to be me and to stop with self pity and cruelty to one another.
The human body. It is a vessel for your soul to experience this world. The body provides the filters necessary to perceive and interact with this world. There is much more happening and one would be overwhelmed by the amounts of information to process without these filters. To feel and in those feelings are to make each experience real. However, it is temporary, as everything is temporary. We have slowed down time here in order to be able to enjoy the sensations. Time here however, is irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. It is merely to track to organize one's day and to see growth to compare as time passes. However, the actual time folds upon itself as we have already done what we are doing many times over. We have already tried out everything and decided what path we wanted to take in our lives based upon what was available to us. Thus, we do not have more than we can handle. We have all chosen our burdens to bear as it is too much for one individual to hold alone which was done in the past. This is part of the sorting process. Now that we all share in the sins and the pains, no one is made to suffer eternal torment. This life was to allow those who were created into entities of pain or torment through no fault of their own to choose the life that matched the being of who they were as what they were different as time and space and everything developed. Righteousness and Evil are not synonymous to demons or angels as many would like to believe. This is a current misconception as Satan and I conclude who will be right in this experience you have all participated in. So far, I am proving to be right. Also to note, not everything is as you think it is. Many have figured out the true origin of Satan versus the man or human embodiment of or desire of A Satan to project evils onto to call a Religion and set up for personal importance. Q AZHow can you tell a false prophet? Easy. What is their profit? Get it? I know I’m funny. Also wanted to keep it easy. If they are making a profit on anything they are a false prophet. Any true prophet, and I have none so far, all live equally and the same as anyone else. No money is taken for personal gain. Nothing is for personal gain. There is no 888 Angel code for money. Money is Man-Made. Man traded Mother for Money. Hence, Mothers have been lost in the homes and no one is raising the children. Thus, there are so many children in adult bodies with no mothers in the home and women being made to feel guilty if they do not achieve the same as a man. Remember the phrase it takes a village? Well, the broken family system is a real sad loss here in man made world pushing everyone to be individual and self sufficient. Also so many with wanting attention and pursuing personal endeavors for personal gain and not helping anyone else in a real way. The journey is personal. Of course, you want to share what you experienced with others, but what worked for you will not work for them, stop trying to sell it. Stop trying to make people follow you for you to teach your divine wisdom you remembered. It isn’t about You. You don’t even have the full story, you have your story. And, yes you can be very close to me, very similar to me, in my image, but you can never BE me. Doesn’t work like that. Reflection. So when jealousy arises when you think I am who you think I am. That is part of your test and your journey. You wrestle with that feeling and atone and repent for that which has been done and that which still lingers now. Oh there is a place for everyone and I am quite tired of trying to warn people. Clearly you can lead a horse to water, but you cannot make it drink.
Why do you not want it to be me so badly? Because I proved my love? You still think I am better than you or do I think I’m always right. No I do not think I am always right, I just know when I am right and I stand by it. There is a difference. You constantly overgeneralize. I gave up all the magic and thunder to live as a simple human and am still kind and loving? I still found my way back. Because you can no longer say I do not understand because I always get what I want? No. You do not understand. I never get what I want, because I make everything about you and still nothing was ever good enough. So, now...it in on you to save yourself and each other. In my image, by my example. Selflessness. Love. Compassion. Give to receive. Take only what you need and give the rest away. I find out so stop lying to yourself and everyone, you aren’t fooling anyone anyway. How do I know? By watching what you do. We have these same conversations over and over, the same argument over and over again. So many different ways, so many different times, through so many different people, so many different versions. Save you. Save Me. Say it for always.
Anyhow, Jesus challenges the Jewish priests who were taking collection money for personal use and adding personal baths to their residents at a time where the people only had a community bath where women and persons with disabilities were not allowed to bathe. And yet churches still do this after Jesus was crucified saying that, that was wrong. I am appalled. The Vatican is the biggest disappointment I have ever seen. It is truly the house of Satan as only Evil hides secrets. “THE TRUTH WILL SET YOU FREE.” A church cannot be a “House of God” and house no people who need housing. A roof can be offered to anyone and yet there are so many rules to prevent people from helping each other. Power and control. Abuse of both. Greed. It is out of hand and needs to be changed. Too many are afraid and the complacency of good people is too much. Why do you do this to yourselves? To each their own I suppose.
I will only leave here my words and my advice. As always, it is on you to find me. I’m right here. Waiting. Right here waiting for you. Helping those of you who want it when they cross my path. The purpose of this was to weigh your soul to determine where you will go into the next life as the system is balanced out in a final version so to speak. Permanent.
Fear not. You will be where your heart truly desires. But actions always speak louder than words. But man made money has no value, nor does any metals, jewels, and so on, so the collection of it in this life has no bearing on the next. Those are all made of the same stardust as you and I. And in the end of 3D it will all be diamonds anyways. Diamond is forever. There is no going back. So what are you hoarding? You cannot keep it. Who could you be helping for goodness sake? Don’t want to still. That is okay. Think I am just crazy. That is okay too. It is all part of the test...err..assessment. Do your best.
What is in your heart?
Home.
I need a home.
Stay tuned as more of my story unfolds. I give all the answers but you must do the work. I already did that hard part setting it all up. All you have to do is breathe and live. Time is the only real currency you have. What will you pay your attention to before this life runs out?

Hi guys! I just have to say that i appreciate all of you who commented on my last post, even the negative comments. I want you guys to know that i appreciate the positive comments alot since i have no one else to ask for advice.
However, i think that i should have put more effort into my last post and i should have told a little more details about myself and the relationship that i am currently in.
I am 17f and i am soon to be 18. I’m very mature for my age, and there is a reason as to why i have the issues that i have. I am the first born child. My mom had me when she was 23, yet she was un experienced how to be a good mom, and that was absolutely not her fault.
My dad is was an absolute a hole towards my mom and me, he still is, just not towards us because ha abandoned me for someone elses kids. However, my dad used to hit my mom, being violent wasn’t uncommon from where he comes from, but my mom and i are traumatized till this day. He would hit my mom whenever he felt like it was needed to ”decipline” her. He would also lay hands on me as an infant, and no i am not joking.
I was 15 when my dad left me and my sister for another family. He abandoned us, and moved to another country. We still don’t know where he lives or if he is okay.
This sutuation led me to being scared of being abandoned, by anyone really.
The trust issues that i have comes from an abusive relationship that i used to be in. I met this person when u was 14, and we became friends. Things escelated and he started laying hands on me. It was to a point where mom would pick me up and i had to make up an excuse for the black eye, or the bruises on my body. I’m sure y’all are wondering why i didn’t leave as soon as it started. This person, he knew people who knew people, and he proved it to me. He also blackmailed me with alot of thingd, like secrets i had told him and trusted him to not tell anyone. I wqs scared he would hurt my family, and that he would hurt me by leaking things, so for my familys sake and my sake i stayed. Everyday i prayed that things would get better, and that i would be able to leave him. That day finally came, and i cried my eyes out. Not because i was sad, but because i felt so relieved, and i felt so free. I repported him to the police and they have him locked up now, because i was not his only ”victim”.
This is where the trust issues comes from. It also comes from getting cheated on, bur i’d rather not talk about that because i am not ready to bring it up.
I’ve always been drawn to ”crazy” people. I would learn that they are ”crazy” sooner or later. This is the reason why i don’t have many friends, but a few close ones.
My man is really caring, and he has never done anything intentionally to make me feel like i have a reason to be worried. He is rarely around girls if he isn’t in class. I don’t like when he is close to girls or the thought of him having a girl friend or even a conversation with a girl if not needed. I do trust him not to do anything, and me and Connor have talked about this. We both agree when it comes to this subject. He doesn’t trust boys, and i don’t trust girls. It doesn’t mesn that all boys/girls are the same, but it is something that we are worried about because after all we don’t knoe other peoples intentions.
Me and Connor have mentioned breaking up before, or been forced to. Thid has never been by choice, our relationship is something that seens to bother other people. People gives us nasty glances, whisper in our surroundings, and what not. We can’t find the reason as to why our relationship seems to bother people, but this just makes us stronger, because the more problems that we face, the more experience we gain, and grow closer.
We keep a low profile, we don’t act like lovers in public. We keep it really low to not draw attention. We still talk, and walk beside eachother, but we aren’t intimate in any way.
For those of you who thinks that i should enjoy life and be a kid, i can not do that. I’ve raised myself because my mom never had time for me. My sister was the golden child and has always been. But she is my mother and i love her.
I’m very independent, and i’m a very isolated person since i’ve never liked the idea of partying, hanging out more than 2 people at once, or anything else in that direction.
I never got the time or opportunity to be a kid, i had to raise myself and become independent at a very young age. I’ve always been the quiet girl who reads, sleeps, studies, and what not. School has never been hard for me, but being a target for others has been hard. I’ve never had it easy, that’s all i’m going to say for now. I hope this update gives you a picture of how things are from my aspect. And i’m sorry if i miss spelled something, i’m Swedish which makes me miss spell some things.

The title, essentially. Apologies for the upcoming 'vent' but I am so tired and so frustrated of feeling like this.
My whole life has been dominated by infatuations for people I can't have. They always seem to be people of a higher social standing, people who are more popular, more well-liked, or whatever.
I have identified as straight my whole life (32F) until I met a woman at work who I have fallen madly in love with. She's married to a man and has children and is also a coworker so a no-go area. She doesn't know I feel this way and she never will know.
This new episode has all the hallmarks of previous limerent episodes except this one has a new intensely sexual component to it (my other limerent episodes for males were not sexual in nature) and it's the strongest I have ever felt about anyone so far. So not only am I experiencing limerence once again, but it has also made me question my sexuality, so I am contending with that also.
I can't stop thinking about her and it's just completely eating away at me now. I have no reason to believe she's into women; she is married to a man and I am just going to take that at face value, nor would I ever want to pursue any sort of relationship even if there was some reciprocation (which is highly unlikely). She acts fairly aloof and distant from me and remains professional at all times so I don't even understand why I feel so strongly about her - and I also don't understand why I have suddenly developed these feelings for a woman. It caught me out the blue.
I really do feel like a complete loser. She's 'higher up' than me in terms of work and I feel so inadequate, so inferior all the time now. She has a completely fulfilling life and yet I barely do anything with mine.
I have had two 'long-term' relationships with people who were nice but I only felt half-hearted about. I feel like this is how it's always going to be.
Apologies for the not-so-nice post but I feel like people here would empathise. I can handle intensely strong feelings for someone; it's the complete feeling inadequate/feeling utterly inferior by comparison that I can't come to terms with. I also feel like I'll never be truly 'happy' and will only ever settle for people I'm only half-arsed about, because the people who stoke these magical feelings never reciprocate.
I know the answer is that there is something missing from my life that needs working on, but I am at a loss as to what to do.

I'm a late 30s woman who has always had trying relationships with my immediate family. I have one sibling (an older sister) and my mom and dad are still married. My father is an alcoholic who was absent from most family matters and has been physically abusive to my mom. My mom suffers with major codependency issues, anorexia, and her own substance abuse problems. My sister demonstrates a lot of borderline personality disorder characteristics but has never been diagnosed. She has also physically and psychologically abused me. I went no contact with my sister 10 years ago because I could no longer tolerate being bullied and threatened by her. Since I've been an adult, I've done my best to put physical distance between myself and my family. But in my late 20s, my mom tried to re-enter my life and as her daughter and someone who admittedly still desperately wanted her love, I let her back in. A mistake.
My mom would torment me as a child, often going months without speaking to me if I did something she didn't like or if I wasn't able to predict what she wanted without her telling me. I would literally ask her a question and watch her pick her things up and leave the room to avoid talking to me. I watched her suffer at the hands of my dad but take her rage out on my sister and me, with either this kind of silent treatment or verbal abuse. The worst was when she and my sister would gang up on me and invent things to ostracize me with, like that I was on drugs (when I was literally 11 and in their presence all the time, like, what drugs could I have been doing, lol) or that I was a "tramp" (again, 11). They called me helpless, weak, stupid, slow, etc. and destroyed my self esteem at an already difficult age. My sister would make screen names on AIM (the 90s lol) and talk to my classmates to repeat this weird shit to them, too. When I caught her and confronted my family with this information, they told me it was my fault and I was punished. I learned I couldn't trust them, which hurt so badly and made me feel hopeless. I've struggled with depression since, but as an adult I prioritized my mental health and did a lot of really difficult work to make myself into a person I'm proud of now.
My mom and dad made a major scene at my college graduation fighting with each other so I don't even really remember it. I just knew it was finally my time to get away once and for all. I got a great job in NYC in my field and was making plans to move there when my mom confronted me. She told me I was a loser, that I broke my father's heart when I went to college far away (news to me, he almost never talked to me), and that she would see me in six months when I failed. I ended up staying there for over 10 years building a career with a lot of effort. I even saved up enough money to put a down payment on an apartment with, which my dad came through and helped me with financially too. I still own the apartment even though I've since relocated and got married (more on that soon).
My mom worked her way back into my life in my late 20s by telling me that she was going to file for divorce and was getting her own place. Even though we hadn't resolved our issues, I was so happy that she was making positive choices that I let those things go and did my best to help her. She went about it in a very odd way, which was to move out, not tell my father or sister where she was going or why, and to make me the only person who knew what was going on. She also has a large immediate family and they didn't know what was happening either. So I felt a huge responsibility to help her as I was the only one she was trusting with this new plan for her life. And by the way, in the months when she was "missing" like this, my dad never asked once where she was to me or my sister. Or my mom! He just carried his life on as usual. Bizarre.
But soon her plans became less important than her being able to complain to me about my dad and all of their many problems. It wasn't anything I hadn't heard as a child, but it still had the power to make me feel pity for her and want to help her. I visited frequently from NYC, made us plans to do fun things together, and showed her some of the books that helped me work through depression and my own relationship issues. And then suddenly one day, she announced that she was moving back in with him. I was disappointed but I also know it takes a lot of tries to truly separate from an abusive relationship so I didn't give up on her. She moved out another time -- same story, another vanishing act that only I knew about -- only to return home after a few months with no explanation to me. I want to say this cycle repeated at least three times but I genuinely lost track.
I found a partner who treated me with love, kindness and respect and we dated for about four years before I made the decision to relocate with him to the west coast. We recently got married and it was the best choice I ever made. We're celebrating our one year anniversary soon and things are truly only getting better. I feel like I hit the jackpot. The only thing is, it's made things even worse in my family somehow. I asked my parents if they'd like to participate in our wedding and my dad seemed interested, but my mom withdrew again and started a new disappearing act. She was living with my dad again and suddenly I was public enemy number 1. I asked if she'd like to meet my partner and she declined. I asked her if she'd like to visit and she declined, angrily saying that where I was living was unsafe (literally the suburbs lol) and that she wouldn't set foot there. And she later told me she'd "catch up with me at a later time" if I did decide to get married. That was so, so painful. I knew we were at another crossroads, like we were when I initially moved to NYC, and that she hadn't learned or changed at all in all of those 20 years. And of course, when I sent her an announcement saying that we did get married, she had another opportunity to be a victim and say she was hurt to be excluded, even though she said she didn't want to hear about it. I later flew to our home state to see my grandmother, but she had my dad make up a story that she was too under the weather for a visit (which I found out later through an aunt was a lie).
It's also worth noting that when my sister got engaged, she went and hid in the shower for about 4 hours rather than coming down and congratulating her. So there's that.
I decided to preserve my sanity and protect my new family by having a small ceremony on the west coast. I was so insanely blessed to have very good friends who I've been close to for years come and support me, and his family was amazing too. It was so painful to be asked where my family was, but it was also something I realized I had been explaining away my whole life. Something in my brain clicked that day.
It's always been more important to my mom to be a victim of life than to take any responsibility in her own choices. My dad is no angel and I don't exactly have sympathy for him, but he's been showing her who he is their entire relationship and she will not stop believing he's actually different. I don't know why he won't leave her, but he has also never made this my problem. She will not do anything to help herself. My mom has outsourced her happiness to me and my sister, pushing us to always be the best, get into the best schools, be the most successful, always moving the goal posts, etc. but when we actually achieved those things she would talk shit on us (in front of us) to anyone who would listen. And then she tried making it my responsibility to help her when she wanted out. She made her relationship with a man who doesn't like her our problem for our entire lives. It robbed us of space for so many things, including support for my sister whose BPD I can't help but see as rooted in our tumultuous environment. Because my sister only sees the world in black and white terms, she sees me as trying to destroy our family by being supportive to our mom in her choice to separate. And my relationships with extended family are almost nonexistent because no one else can find a way to deal with my mom -- when she even deigns to answer the phone for them -- and it makes them feel awkward around us.
And so I'm really looking at myself and the times I've chosen to abdicate responsibility in favor of being "the victim." It's hard work, and I've spent a lot (a LOT) of time and money in therapy trying to sort myself out. It wasn't fair to be put in a situation as a child where my physical, emotional, and psychological wellbeing were constantly jeopardized. It wasn't fair that she encouraged my sister to bully me. And it's definitely not fair to feel rejected by her again because I married a man who actually likes me. I wrestled with a lot through the years with the violence between my mom and dad, always feeling like I could fix it, I had to fix it, as a child, a young woman, an adult. And this spilled over into my adult life as becoming a people pleaser, a fixer, etc. But the truth is they were the adults. They had many, many people in their lives they could reach out to for help. But they made their health and happiness their childrens' responsibility. A lot of my friends have kids now, and I look at these little kids and realize exactly how ridiculous it was to bully a child, your own child, plus expect them to solve all your own problems. I never want to put my "happiness" on anyone else in such a suffocating way. I can see where their putdowns on me as a kid were total projection now -- that I was selfish, useless, worthless, etc. -- because that's how they truly felt about themselves. Pathetic.
Mother's Day brought a lot of these feelings up for me and I feel like I'm moving in the right direction, but I still needed to get this off my chest somewhere anonymously to just feel like I was releasing it.
The last time I talked to my mom she was asking if she could move into my NYC apartment. You know, in the place where she said I'd fail in six months?
I said no.

Two years ago, I had just moved to a new house from a different neighbourhood for work. I was settling in and getting used to the place, but I was still lonely and went through bouts of depression.
My ex-boyfriend of five years had ended the relationship a while before I moved, and I wasn't having much luck going on dates. I eventually decided to focus my energy into work and fitness instead, but the loneliness lingered. The house still felt empty at times, and the silence was painful. I went through the motions numbly as the days passed by.
About two months after I had moved in, I started noticed a stray dog pacing around my front yard from time to time. It had big, brown, sad eyes, and there was no collar around its neck. I couldn't tell you what breed it was - a reverse Google image search tells me it looks like an Indian Pariah dog. I could always recognize it, as its left eye was slightly larger and darker than the right, but that gave it some unique charm. After seeing it outside my front door for three days straight, I put up some posters along my street inviting anyone who might have lost a dog to call me. I quickly learned that I probably shouldn't have done that, after getting a few silent calls from an unknown number that I eventually chalked up to being a prankster or some scammer.
I called a local animal shelter and them pictures of the dog. A guy came over to scan the dog for a microchip, but found nothing. He said it was most likely abandoned as a puppy. He could take it back to the shelter, or I could look after it for the time being - they would contact me if anyone ever tried to claim it. My grandad had a german shepherd that I used to love playing with, so I always had a soft spot for dogs and agreed to look after it, even if it was for a while. The guy from the animal shelter advised that if I didn't hear back in a week, I should take it to the vet to get it checked out and microchipped, or to the shelter if I didn't want to keep it.
I took care of the dog and let it roam around the living room, with free access to the back yard. I decided to name him Charlie, and purchased more dog food, a labelled dog collar, some brushes to groom him with and dog toys. The nearest vet was a two hour drive away. Work was busy so I wasn't incredibly flexible for a visit, but I managed to get an appointment booked in two weeks' time.
The first night I spent with Charlie, I realized that he might just be what I needed in my life. Late in the evening, I sat on the couch looking at him, sitting quietly in the middle of the room on my wooden floor. I began talking out loud to Charlie. It seemed stupid at first, but the way he sat quietly and listened was comforting. After a while, I got more into it, and vented about my loneliness and frustrations to the point of tears.
How I stayed with my cheating, gaslighting ex-boyfriend because I was too insecure to be alone, until he dumped me. All my failed dates, and how I thought I would die alone and unloved. I poured my heart out to my new companion, spilling my deepest secrets until I cried myself to sleep. The next day, I again began talking to Charlie about the pain and depression I had been through, and he listened patiently once more. I discovered that spending time with my new friend was cathartic. Perhaps I needed to get it all out, and be listened to for once, even if not fully understood.
The third day after I had taken Charlie in, I woke up to realize that I'd overslept half an hour. I poured some food into Charlie's bowl and brushed my teeth at lightning speed, then grabbed my bag and flung the door open, ready to bolt into my car. A surprise greeted me at the front door, that made me stop.
There was a bouquet of red and pink roses on my front door step.
I picked it up and looked at it, confused. There was no note attached or anything. I couldn't think of who it would be from - I obviously hadn't been on any dates recently. Being late for work, I didn't have much time to ponder, so I dropped the roses back on my doorstep and drove off. During the drive, I panicked for a second at the thought that it could have been my ex, but then realized he didn't know my new address, or even that I had moved. The mystery bugged me all day at work. When I came back home, the roses were gone, so I assumed someone had accidentally left them at the wrong address.
That night, I woke to the sound of creaking. As I opened my eyes slightly, I saw something at the foot of my bed and bolted upright, adrenaline rushing through me. As the fogginess faded, my heart rate settled a little.
"It’s just you, Charlie," I sighed, "you scared me."
Charlie continued to stare at me from the foot of my bed. After a minute, he stood up and left the room. I didn't think much of it, and fell back asleep.
For the next week, I continued the usual ritual of talking to Charlie before I went to bed. I would talk about my day, my plans, hopes, dreams and other such things. I found our one way conversations getting more positive each day - they were very therapeutic. Charlie would always stare at me with those big brown eyes and sit quietly still as I talked.
On the morning of the vet appointment, for which I had taken the day off work, I noticed that my car was much cleaner than usual. Had it always been this shiny? I thought. I had driven it to work the Friday before, but I hadn't taken notice of how clean it was then. The last time I had, I could swear there were bird droppings on the back window, and some general grime that covered it all round, but it was now spotless. I pondered for a few seconds, and came to the conclusion that it must've just be a brain lapse on my part - it was probably always clean. Those droppings must have washed away over time with a few rainy nights.
I drove Charlie down to the vet and explained the story of how I'd found him.
"He's very well behaved," she beamed, as she began examining Charlie on the table. "We see a few of these cases from time to time. People's dogs have puppies, and they get sold or abandoned."
"It's a real shame," I sighed. "Charlie's been a star, I'm lucky to have him really. I live alone, so as odd as it sounds, I've been talking to him and it's helped me through some difficult moments."
"That's not strange at all," replied the vet, checking his teeth. "Owning a dog can do wonders for your mental health, especially if you live alo-"
She suddenly stopped.
I stared as she squinted and moved Charlie's head up and down, trying to get a look at something. She plucked a light out of her pocket and aimed it into Charlie's left eye.
"What's wrong?" I asked. She didn't answer, and kept looking at Charlie from different angles. He whimpered slightly.
"Did his eye look like this when you found him?" She asked. I leaned in closer.
"Yeah, I did notice his left eye was slightly darker and larger than his right."
She looked at me for a second and raised her eyebrows, then back at Charlie.
"I'd like to get a closer look at his eye and examine it in the next room, if that's okay?"
"Uh, sure," I said, confused.
Without further explanation, she hastily picked Charlie up and carried him off into a different room. I sat down and waited, reading the news on my phone, expecting her to be back in a few minutes. However, when the vet didn’t come back for a while, my concern began to grow. I paced around the room and tried to glance into the door she had left through a few times.
Then I sat back down and watched the minutes pass by, getting more anxious. Hopefully it's nothing, I thought to myself. An easily curable eye infection perhaps, or a defect he was born with - hopefully it was something like that or nothing. I'd only spent a few weeks with Charlie, but he was the best friend I'd ever had. I had told him so much about me, and he was the only one that had ever really listened to me. I had grown very attached to him quickly, so I almost felt like a worried parent, blaming myself for not bringing him to the vet sooner.
An hour and a half passed, but it felt like eternity. The vet finally came back through the door. I stood up.
"Everything okay?" I asked.
"Have you noticed any odd events recently?" she asked, "Like, anything you couldn't explain?"
"To do with Charlie?"
"No, just in general. Anything you've seen or heard around you that felt out of place in your life?" She insisted. I took a second to think.
"I'm pretty sure this isn't gonna be relevant," I said, "But I have a couple of times. For instance, this morning I thought my car was a lot cleaner than usual. I've been getting some unknown calls, and hearing some creaking noises at night lately, but I'm sure it's just Charlie walking around and waking me up. And… someone left roses on my front doorstep one day. Didn't say from who, but… Sorry, I'm not sure why I'm even telling you this."
I looked up at the vet, who now had a very concerned look on her face.
"I'm going to have to call the police," she said.
It took a few seconds to register. A million thoughts started racing through my mind. Did I say something wrong? Did she think I was abusing Charlie?
"I swear," I said, "Everything I've told you is true, I'm really sorry it took me so long to bring him in, it's my first time owning a dog and all…"
"No, no, it's not that," she said. She gestured for me to follow her into the room through the door.
Charlie was sitting on a table in the middle of the room. There were a few other tables surrounding it, with dog toys and surgical equipment on them. There was a large hole where his left eye had been, now a gaping black cavity.
The vet pointed at a sheet of blue paper on a table next to the one Charlie was on. There were two black domes resting on it, like two halves of a black ping pong ball had been split in half. A clear fluid was covering the outer sides, and staining the blue paper. There was also a tiny black cube. I looked closer, and saw some red and green wires coming out of the tube.
"I took this out of Charlie's left eye," the vet explained, "I thought my eyes were fooling me, but I took a closer look and was sure this thing definitely shouldn't have been in his head. When I took it out, I thought it was some kind of prosthetic eye, until I heard something moving inside it. I opened it up, and found this."
She pointed at the tiny cube and picked it up with some tweezers, revealing a transparent circular window on one side.
"Now I'm no expert, but I took that apart just now and to me it looked a lot like the inside of a camera lens you'd get on a smartphone."
She looked back at me.
"Do you think…" She paused.
"Do you think it's possible someone could have been watching you for the past few days?"
The police were eventually called and an investigation started. The tiny device inside Charlie's eye was indeed a camera lens with a built in audio recording device, and it had a wireless connection. It was an advanced piece of kit, but with some technical expertise they were able to examine its traffic logs and identify an IP address to which the miniature device was streaming.
That IP address belonged to my neighbor, who lived in the house opposite to mine.
I had never seen him leave the house before, although when I moved in I did see his silhouette in the top floor window a couple of times. He was a fifty five year old balding, slightly overweight man who worked as an engineer, but otherwise lived a reclusive lifestyle. I later found out that he had multiple restraining orders placed against him from ex partners. He had a collection of tiny bugging devices which he had been planting in various places including public women's bathrooms for years. These devices could livestream video and audio to his computer, and in his spare time he would watch and listen to this footage he collected.
A while before I moved into the house, he had purchased a puppy from someone he knew, and kept it as a pet without registering it. I assume he got bored of spying on women in bathroom stalls, and when he saw me move into the house opposite, he suddenly got a wild idea of how he could get a peek at something more intimate. The rest is some truly horrific history.
Charlie had been in my room while I slept and even a couple of times while I undressed. But worst of all, I had told him everything about me. The names of previous partners, things about my family, companies I had worked for and more. I wish I could say that I kept Charlie, but I just couldn't. Not after that. The vet arranged for him to be sent to the animal shelter where I'm glad to say he eventually did find a new home. I also relocated and changed my phone number.
For anyone out there wondering, I'm still single. The difference is that nowadays, I'm completely at peace with being alone. I've experienced a worse alternative, that's for sure.

My husband and I have two kids (2&3). My 3 year old is a runner and she doesn't stop when you tell her to. I've had a couple of occasions in which she has tried to run across a parking lot. We even had a near-miss recently when she broke loose from us and nearly got hit by a truck that was zipping through the parking lot of a shopping center we were in. We usually use those backpacks that have a leash attached for each of our kids to keep them safe, especially if we're out and about alone with the kids. My husband loves to take the kids to the zoo, so he'll do that on some weekends while I get the housework done while the kids are away. Pretty much every time he takes the kids to the zoo, someone always has something negative to say. Most recently, it was a 20-something who passed him, then immediately told her friend "ew, I would never put my kids on a leash." I guess the saying is true, the best parents are the ones who don't have kids. It's funny that these people will make their snide remarks like that well within ear shot, but they never look you straight in the eyes while insulting you. I realize I shouldn't let it bother me, but it pisses me off still. Next time I hear something like that, I'm definitely going to say something. Have you guys received similar feedback? What is with the stigma of using leashes to protect your kids? I had one that went on my wrist when I was little and I've never thought it was a big deal.

Before I start, this story is long, and I'll repeat myself a lot; my first goal is to get what's inside me out and vent, so please be patient and if you respond be respectful, please.
I (29M) came out of the closet about two years ago, but living in the environment I live in, I couldn't be as open as I would have liked until recently. During that time, I lost a lot of weight and gained confidence in myself, which made it easier for me to open up to the world that interested me. I'm not someone with much experience when it comes to sex, but I've had my adventures, mostly with women, but once I accepted who I am, my experiences shifted towards men. In recent years, I've had fleeting relationships and two relationships that lasted more than four months, but in recent months, I've been puzzled by a situation I've had to live through, and that's why I'm writing this here, to see if the perspective of strangers helps me clarify my thoughts a bit.
I don't consider myself ugly; I can even be attractive, both physically and in personality, but insecurities have affected me since I was very young. This story begins in September of last year when I started working at a new company. The workgroup consists of about 30 colleagues, some of whom I knew from before. But the story focuses on a guy (32M), let's call him Stephen. I must mention that he didn't attract me at first; he's not my physical type. But around November, as I got to know him, I was attracted to his personality, which surprised me because I'm usually a very superficial person (I know I need to work on that), and it's not very common for me to be attracted to someone because of their personality.
Over time, I formed a very close group of friends, who told each other everything that happened in our daily lives, so it was only a matter of time before I mentioned to them that I was attracted to Stephen. The three colleagues, Anna (37F), Violet (36F), and Lily (20F), were happy for me and told me that the interest seemed mutual because they thought the guy was getting very close to me. I liked that because I had already noticed that the jokes or comments I made to him received the same response, or at least he played along.
We reached December, we organized a dinner with some colleagues, and both he and I attended. By then, my colleagues had been pressuring me a lot to tell him something, but since we only had a relationship at work, I didn't dare to take the step; it didn't seem right to me. I also mentioned my situation to my friends, who could give me another point of view, but they all told me that not seeing the relationship we had made it difficult for them to evaluate it. I must mention that all this was happening while I was seeing another guy, John (27M), in a stable relationship for 6 months.
At the dinner and at the after-party, Stephen didn't leave my side. If I went out to smoke, he came out with me even though he doesn't smoke; if I had a drink, he accompanied me to the bar. My colleagues were ecstatic because they saw that this was the night something was going to happen. Well, it didn't. Between my relationship with John and the nerves of the moment, I didn't dare to do anything. But I already saw clearly that with those ideas in my head, the relationship with John was unfeasible; he was no longer my priority. We broke up during the following week.
I was already going all out for Stephen; I was attracted to his personality, to what he could offer me in a relationship. The week before Christmas arrived. We had a one-week break from work, and I didn't want to leave with doubts on vacation. On Tuesday of that week, I went to talk to him about the subject, determined, but when I started talking, I saw that we weren't alone, and I didn't dare to continue. I didn't dare again until Friday; he insisted that I finish saying what I had to tell him, which excited me even more because in my head, what I wanted to tell him seemed obvious.
Friday came, the last day for me to tell him something. When there was an hour left to finish the workday, I saw that we were alone, and I approached him. I was very nervous, I even stuttered, but I practically told him that I found him a very interesting guy and that I would like to get to know him outside of work, to which he responded that he was flattered but that he was not homosexual. It crushed me. I tried to disguise it by saying that he had become a very important support at work and that I wouldn't want this to ruin that relationship; he accepted it.
I left there as quickly as possible, holding back tears as best I could (yes, very teenage everything). I met up with my colleagues and told them what had happened. They supported me, but they kept saying that they didn't believe Stephen, that the relationship we had wasn't just friendship. I didn't give importance to that; at that moment I just wanted to forget what had happened. It was one of the toughest Christmases I've ever had. My family didn't know anything, my friends outside of work didn't understand it, and my work colleagues kept insisting that I needed to clarify things even more with him. My head was spinning.
I decided that I was going to fulfill what I said to Stephen, that the work relationship would continue as it had until that moment. The first week was weird and tough, I won't deny it, but I handled it quite well. I insisted that my colleagues avoid the subject, but it was impossible not to see the looks every time Stephen and I talked. Over time, we've returned to jokes, and although there's attraction on my part, I've come to understand that nothing will ever happen between us. Or so I thought. The last month I've had abrupt changes in my life. My grandmother died, I started dating Parker (33M), I got promoted at work, and I moved out on my own. It's important to mention, I think, that Stephen was my superior, and now, with the promotion, he's my immediate superior, I have to answer to him. So we spend much more time together, and we've come to know each other more intimately. I know about his problems with family, his friends, his plans for the weekend... But he never talks to me about relationships. We have a colleague who lives in the same city as Stephen, who has known him for years, and my colleagues, being the gossips they are, interrogated her about Stephen, and she managed to find out that he has never had a known relationship, nor has he had relationships with anyone, which surprised us all because, even though he's not my type, he's an athletic and quite attractive man.
Meanwhile, physical contact has emerged; he touches my shoulder when speaking, he hugs me when greeting me in the mornings... That was what I was missing. Just when I was rebuilding my life after the Christmas fiasco, to doubt again because of physical contact, once more when I was in a relationship that seemed perfect on the surface. More doubts on the subject. I had been with Parker for three months; I met him at a party with friends, in early February, falling back into the same old mistakes, focusing on the physical and then on the personality, luckily we were compatible, until feelings for Stephen surfaced again. The relationship faded, literally, no sex, no affection, no compatibility. My work colleagues didn't accept Parker, they were still insisting on Stephen. We come to yesterday, I broke up with Parker last week, and I really felt bad because it seemed to me that I was making the same mistakes as with John, obsessing over a relationship that didn't exist, that I had already received rejection for. But I moved to my new house, perfect for me, and liked by everyone, even Stephen. Today I received the comment that led me to speak here. I have organized a dinner next weekend at my house, Stephen is coming, he has asked to stay the night, I only have one bed, he has said we will share with a wink. I got excited, but I don't want to. I couldn't bear another fiasco. My work colleagues are already on cloud nine.
So I ask, do I have reasons to be excited or is it all in my head?

Hey all, at least once a day there seems to be a post in this subreddit complaining about the quality of matches or teammates. In those posts there seems to be a split on whether or not there is a problem or player behavior is justified. I'm going to leave most of my opinions at the end of this post, but from my point of view it's obvious that there is a problem that is clearly illustrated by how often players choose to forfeit, but most players are unwilling or even mentally blocking themselves from the idea that they might be part of the problem. I had already taken up note taking in video games as I played Dark Souls for the first time, so I decided to continue this when I came back to Rocket League and record stats and tallies by hand of instances when my teammates vote to forfeit.
​
For context, all of these matches were in the 3v3 competitive playlist from the Diamond 1 to Diamond 2 range. I wanted to come up with a system that made it easy to record quickly during games, so I kept tallies of the basic stats in the first table, and in terms of forfeiting I recorded the time of the first vote, the score, and notes (things I wanted to keep track of but ultimately didn't deserve their own tallies). Right off the bat we can see that it only took 311 matches for me to reach 100 instances of forfeiture, this means almost one third of my games are going to include a teammate forfeiting. Out of those 100 times where a teammate voted to forfeit, 34 times also included the teammate idling or hard throwing. That means almost 1 out of every 9 matches I played was ruined solely by someone on my team not playing the game as intended. It's also extremely important to note that I only recorded instances of this happening on my team. I'm making the assumption that all of this happens at a slightly higher rate on the other team because I personally don't vote to forfeit or throw my matches.
​
Here are the results of what I recorded:
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Games played	Wins	Losses	Vote to ff?	idle or hard throw?	OTW (includes W)	OTL (includes L)
311	153	158	100	34	31	27

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	Time left at first vote	Score	Notes
1	0:07	2-1
2	0:37	3-1	toxic in text
3	0:42	3-2
4	3:30	3-0	immediate throw after ff vote
5	2:23	3-0
6	0:07	4-0
7	1:25	up 2-0	conceded immediately after, still won
8	0:35	2-1
9	0:47	4-1
10	1:42	2-2	led whole game then lost
11	2:51	4-1	toxic in text
12	1:26	4-1
13	1:28	3-0
14	3:20	3-0	mid-play vote, teammate threw
15	2:58	2-0
16	2:00	3-0
17	3:17	4-0	teammate quit at 2-0 with 4:00 remaining, ff accepted
18	2:23	2-0
19	0:14	4-2
20	0:15	3-1
21	3:22	3-0	player left the match
22	1:30	4-0
23	3:30	4-1	almost came back
24	3:22	3-0
25	1:07	5-1	teammate left match
26	1:50	3-0
27	1:20	3-0	teammate left immediately after ff vote
28	0:45	3-1
29	2:34	4-3
30	1:55	1-0	mid-play
31	0:36	3-1
32	0:23	5-1
33	2:27	3-0
34	1:26	4-0
35	3:26	1-1	was leading, teammate quit immediately after ff vote
36	2:02	2-2	OT win, teammate voted mid-play
37	1:37	2-1	voted as the enemy team ball rolled into goal to be 3-1
38	0:45	3-1
39	1:08	2-0	mid-play, teammate later left match
40	2:55	3-1
41	2:41	4-0
42	0:52	2-2	mid-play, other team eventually won, teammate left early
43	0:24	5-1
44	0:44	3-3	ff vote @ them tying, we won
45	1:52	up 4-1	ff when other team first scored, we won, this is the only ff vote i feel bad about including here
46	0:09	3-1
47	1:04	3-0	immediate throw after ff vote
48	0:54	3-1
49	0:03	5-3	mid-play
50	0:15	3-1
51	0:07	2-4
52	0:15	0-1	mid play, idle after vote
53	1:49	3-1	was told to kms by probably the only player that got banned during this experiment
54	0:21	3-1
55	2:47	2-1	all downhill after one bad goal
56	0:50	5-1	idle after vote, still got one goal back
57	1:02	4-0	made it 2-4, one guy seemed IRL distracted during portions of the match
58	0:02	5-1	teammate idled and quit after opponent scored a quick goal in 5 seconds. remaining teammate and I played the 2v3
59	0:32	2-4
60	0:06	4-2	mid-play vote, then we conceded, game took longer to end because of the goal and replays than if we'd just played it out
61	0:06	3-1
62	2:20	3-0	teammate threw then left at 4-0
63	2:40	3-0	team played worse after ff vote, 7-1 final
64	3:15	4-0	teammate threw
65	0:15	2-1
66	3:22	3-0
67	2:51	2-0	teammate quit at 2:23 3-0
68	0:06	2-4
69	0:55	4-0
70	2:40	2-0	mid-play, both teammates quit at 2:05 3-0
71	0:01	3-3	mid-play, won in OT
72	2:03	4-0	idle before and after ff vote
73	1:06	3-5
74	2:00	3-3	won in OT
75	1:42	3-0
76	2:25	3-1	first 2 goals because teammate was idle
77	1:26	3-0
78	2:58	1-0
79	2:46	1-0	mid-play, we won 4-2
80	1:52	5-0
81	2:24	4-0	teammate left after we scored to make game 4-1
82	1:24	2-0
83	0:06	3-1
84	0:44	2-4
85	0:35	3-1
86	2:50	0-0	mid-play, we won 4-1
87	1:07	3-2	we won 4-3 in OT
88	0:11	2-0
89	0:32	3-1
90	1:12	3-0	teammate quit at 4-0 0:47
91	0:15	1-0
92	0:36	2-0
93	0:53	3-1
94	1:46	3-0
95	3:18	3-1
96	0:17	3-1
97	2:29	3-0	idle and quit after 4-0
98	2:23	4-4	losing 3-0 at 4:15, ff vote at tying goal, one teammate goading the other to ff in chat, we won 5-4
99	0:49	2-2	won in OT
100	1:38	3-0

​
As an information dump, here are some of the statistics I found interesting with these instances of forfeiting.
​

• The median time when forfeits were first voted on was 1:25.5 left on the clock. 34 times there were 2 or more minutes left, and 10 times there were 3 or more minutes left
• 60 votes occurred with a 2 goal or less deficit, an additional 15 votes occurred at a 3 goal deficit
• 18 votes occurred with 15 seconds or less on the clock. 4 times the deficit was 1 goal, 11 times the deficit was 2, and one vote occurred in a tie game
• 19 votes occurred with between 30 seconds and 1 minute on the clock, 16 of those votes were a 2 goal or less deficit
• 27 votes occurred with between 1 and 2 minutes left on the clock, 11 times the deficit was 2 or less, 11 more times the deficit was exactly 3
• 44 votes occurred while my team was getting shut out
• 10 matches with votes were won, but this includes the only "joke" ff, 2 games where we were leading and 7 when we were tied. In other words, every game where I was losing at the moment and a teammate voted to ff was lost
• 10 votes happened as the other team tied the game, we lost 3 (see above)

​
I'm pretty terrible when it comes to Excel/Google Sheets, but if anyone wants to mess around with this data set to find any other cool stats I'd be very interested.
​
My Thoughts
​
My original purpose when I started to keep track of my games was to try and prove that most games when my teammates vote to forfeit are still winnable, but I no longer feel that is the case, although for different reasons than I expected. Now, I feel like a lot of matches are lost the moment my teammate voted to forfeit either because of the idling/hard throwing, or because of what I perceive as passive throwing by my teammates. I never recorded "passive throwing" because there isn't a reliable way to do so, but a lot of the time it feels like certain players are mentally out of the game once they've hit that vote to forfeit button. Those players make a habit out of forfeiting, which causes them to lose the ability to see a path to victory in matches that are winnable (example: 4-1 with 1:30 on the clock), and this creates a self-fulfilling prophecy where a large portion of the player population just doesn't see the value in playing matches where they are more likely to lose than win.
​
I don't expect most people to have the self-awareness to realize the self fulfilling prophecy they've created, which is why I believe something has to be done to restrict or remove players ability to forfeit in competitive and tournament playlists. Personally, I never plan on forfeiting and I don't want to know when my teammates have voted for it. Why isn't there an option for me to disable the "vote to forfeit" text on my HUD just like people do with quick chat? Additionally, I think one good idea would be to only allow players the ability to initiate a vote a certain number of times per day, and disable the option entirely in tournaments. I didn't record my tournament games on paper, but several times my team would win 3-4 games, go down by 2 goals in the next game, and then one of my teammates votes to ff and checks out of the game. It's ridiculous that this kind of thing happens so regularly in game modes that are advertised as "competitive". I don't want to pretend like I know the perfect solution, I just think in the game's current state it is far too easy for players to give up, and barriers need to be put in place to keep games competitive, therefore something has to change.
​
I know a lot of people will believe players will act this way even if forfeiting wasn't an option, but I think the option of an easy way out affects mentally weak players' gameplay in matches where they are losing. I played Overwatch for many years, a game where matches are much longer and forfeiting is not an option. That game can be toxic as hell, but I've never seen the amount of throwing or giving up in Overwatch that I do in Rocket League. Even when Blizzard was having problems with people leaving quickplay matches after one lost fight, I rarely saw people stop trying in competitive matches just because they got their ass kicked in round 1. In Overwatch, there was a sense of commitment once you got into a competitive match that straight up doesn't exist in Rocket League. I believe the fact that forfeiting has never been an option in Overwatch and always an option in Rocket League has contributed to how willing players are to give up in these respective games. To me, there really isn't ever a good reason to forfeit in RL, but there are still instances that are more ridiculous than others. 22 times my team voted to forfeit with under 30 seconds on the clock, and 18 of those times the deficit was 2 goals or less. Why wouldn't you play out 30 seconds or less just to see if you can get 2 goals? The worst that can happen is it takes you less than 30 seconds to get into a new game, in the best case you might be able to get a goal at the kickoff and then a 0 second goal to go to OT. Yet so many players in this community would rather deny themselves an opportunity for something amazing just because it isn't likely to happen, even when the time cost is absolutely minimal.
​
I hope that this post inspires some discussion and helps players realize how detrimental habitual forfeiting is in modes that want to call themselves "competitive". I also want to tell the players who want to play out every game that you don't owe anyone on either team a forfeit if you don't want to. I know a lot of people feel pressured when someone tells them to forfeit or when they see 2 teammates vote for it, but any reason you want to play out a game is valid, even if you're getting destroyed 10-0 and just want to get one goal. 5 minutes + replays is not an unreasonable time commitment and if anyone tries to pressure you into forfeiting, they aren't worth considering. I hope this can change in the future, because I want to be put on teams that want to try and overcome a 3 goal deficit, and I want to play against teams the make me fight to hold a 3 goal lead. Instead we have a community that is hyper focused on trying to determine when a match isn't worth effort anymore, and competitive playlists and tournaments have suffered because of it. This makes me sad because Rocket League is so simple and elegant that I consider it to be one of the best multiplayer games ever made, but this community-created problem is big enough where it makes me want to play other games.
​
TL;DR Habitual forfeiting is a major problem in Rocket League, and I hope we can actually have an honest conversation about it

This girl kept looking at me. It's starting to weird me out. Explanation
I believe an explanation is in order.
This started about a month ago, and i slightly regret letting it happen. The day at school started out like normal. Nothing was happening, and it would've been a slow day if it wasn't for the new student. She seemed to be a shy girl and was really quiet type and honestly, II would probably never talk to her unless I needed too. She ended up sitting in the row behind me, all the way on the other side of the class from me, yet I could feel the burning sensation of eyes on me. This persisted during the day, and it made feel somewhat nervous, and soon it started to get on my nerves, so as the day ended, I went up to her and asked her.
“I've seen you looking at me all day. Is there something you need from me”
she admitted to it, and she explained everything to me:
She is a small time warrior who came from another world to look for someone specific. The warrior from another world who somehow lost the connection to his other self. She was tasked with finding him in the other world and get him to properly return so he could be revived properly, and she believes I am this person.
I call her crazy and ask if she thinks I'm stupid. To which she responded with a deal. If she proved to me that what she was talking about was real, I would have to do something for her. This is when everything starts to go downhill. After I agree, thinking she couldn't, she takes my hand and slips this ring on my finger. She had one of her own, and she basically told me to rub it. I do so, and it suddenly starts to glow, and with a quick flash it went to black.
Moments later, I wake up in what seems to be a bed, but it looked very old-fashioned. My surroundings looked even more old and medieval, and I started to worry. As I notice on my right, there's a lady at my side with not only a very familiar face, but the world's more smug expression on her face. She had pointed ears now, and I instinctively felt mine as well, informing me that I had them as well. She was right, and this sentence would start the rest of my life in this world and my own:
“I believe we had a deal. Let's talk business, shall we?”
I guess this is the part where I explain myself. I call this brand-new plot idea, part-time isekai! For those who want a little tldr, here's the deal.
Your character is from another world, a world which is greatly connected to mine. Inward this other world, we are working together as bounty hunters who were starting out but quickly rising up in popularity. During one of these missions, my other world character gets shut down in a way that separates both worlds souls from each other, rendering him in a coma. Determined to get his partner back, she has to travel to the other world and convince the other part of him to join him. After they make the deal, and he comes back too, she asked the new person to help her with her bounty hunting with the promise that he can stay in his world until she needed him for a mission.
That's basically the short version with some added context. I've been wanting to make something new and bigger than usual, and this is what I hope you also find interesting and unique. I would like to talk more details when you do send a message to role-play, but if you have any important questions now, don't be afraid to ask them in the comments.

So I'd been hanging out with this artist and DM duo online for quite a while, after meeting Art Lady through her commissions, and I loved her and generally thought the husband was pretty cool most of the time... I joined DM's 5e game, where everyone played as dragons themed after different things, like love, roses, gold, etc, and we could all turn into 'almost' human forms. All seemed pretty cool early on. We even got custom abilities (though DM didn't seem to understand or want to allow my character simply being resistant to cold weather, meanwhile others got some *powerful* abilities)
Dragon forms were powerful, but dragons were hunted in this setting, so there was also an added danger to using them, despite the +10 to ability scores, double HP, breath weapons, multiple melee attacks, and custom abilities. It worked relatively well, honestly, though it certainly had issues, and DM couldn't make up his mind on certain details.
I played a dragon of sunlight and cleric of the Sun, going by the name Monday Bell in her human form; she hated being a dragon and did her best to hide her nature. I enjoyed creating her, and I loved some of the character interactions, but...
DM had some really questionable encounter designs and rulings. It would take forever to explain, but basically it felt like he thought "you can't do anything once X happens" and likely instant-kill musket shots were fun. Yeah... Anyway, I stayed for the characters.
DM was obsessed with PCs being as mechanically different as possible. He didn't allow people to have the same class (including a 1-level dip into Monk just for better AC as an unarmored person), AND... He didn't allow people to have the same... highest ability score. I kid you not. He went so far as to tell casters to base their spells off of different abilities than the rules say (he gave specific options for each class) so there's no twinsies... I really hated this, and I should have dropped out before I joined, when I saw that rule of his.
DM also said that Art Lady and her friend were uncomfortable with my character flirting with theirs... Monday hadn't flirted with anyone. She was vaguely affectionate, putting a hand on someone's arm sometimes, but that was it; that's not flirting. DM claimed I put Art Lady "into a position where she couldn't say no", because... Monday had asked her PC if they could share a hotel room (not a bed!) for a night, when Monday was scared by something earlier. Um... If Art Lady's PC said no, I would've asked the others; it's just that Monday didn't get along with them as well. They were kind of sus, actually.
Side note: I found the flirting accusation extra weird, because I had consensually flirted with Art Lady before (fiancé also saying he was fine with it); I'd think they'd know the difference between flirting and my character being friendly and compassionate. I was baffled.
Then the "saint" issue. For context: DM previously said "there are no gods in this setting, only saints." He defined saints, then said "Or you can worship a heavenly body, a magical place, or mythical creatures". Sounded cool. As a child, I was a closeted lesbian abused by a Christian cult, and I'm still processing some of that trauma, so I squirmed at the word saint, but I can worship the Sun? that sounds cool! I'll be a pretty dragon lady who gets power from the Sun. Awesome. A couple months into the game, DM reveals to me that ALL worship is saint worship; that I MUST worship them to be a cleric, and my Sun worship would in fact be worship of saints who embody aspects of the Sun... This completely invalidates my character concept. He then finally tells me that the campaign contains intentional Christian references. I'm very uncomfortable.
I'm not anti-Christian, but I am very uncomfortable interacting with Christian-specific themes in games. I wasn't the only one either; the paladin was supposed to be an "ocean" worshiper, and was pretty uncomfortable when I mentioned what DM said to me; she didn't want to play a character worshiping "saints" and was pretty uncomfortable with it. This person wasn't in the game for a few sessions, and DM said to her that she couldn't rejoin since it would be narratively awkward after too long, but gave us a different story; I had to get that from her directly. Her coming back didn't work, but replacing us was fine, apparently. Wow.
I did quit the game, but only after the "saint" conversation; DM said I wasn't allowed in his games anymore, but he was allowing me to stay on his Discord server, because "it would be evil" to kick me off. I then saw that DM and Art Lady had left my Discord server without even mentioning it... I then wrote up a long message to the 2 of them carefully explaining how DM had effectively banned me for having religious trauma and (politely) questioning his crazy rules, and that DM had anger issues, communication issues, and a track record of making me cry a few times before, and that I wasn't going to put up with it anymore. But I wished them both to become healthier, less codependent people.
DM then posted on his server that I "was not so friendly" and warned others about me trying to talk to them, as if I was going to do something harmful. This is absurd, as I had expressed not anger, but sadness and pain. I wished they could've been the people I thought they were before I joined that game, but they weren't; they were toxic, codependent crazy people, and DM was a hyper-controlling jerk with some bad anger issues. I'm a little scared for Art Lady, but also, does she want to be independent or functional? She seemed to like relying on DM for everything, which makes me sad; that's not a recipe for a healthy or happy life.
This experience has made me want to be a more lenient GM myself, and I just don't want to tell people no when I don't have to anymore and I want to be more careful about boundaries/triggers than that guy was, but I don't want to say yes to things that don't fit the game world. I'm trying to find the right balance, and oh, I am galvanized after that.
I hope this story encourages others to watch for these sort of issues in games they join.

Hi all - strap in lol..
I (23M) had been seeing a girl (22F) for around 9 months and we became official just touching 7 months ago..
At the beginning, everything was pretty good and I was happy. Around March this year, her effort dramatcially decreased. There were a few red flags that I admittedly ignored such as a promiscuous past ( not necassarily a red flag in itself but she was pretty vocal about it which I'll get to ), me being her first boyfriend and from what I could gather, the first guy to treat her well.
For the duration of the 9 months, she didn't plan one single date, she did not get me anything for Valentines day or our 6 month anniversary, when I asked her to join me and my family for dinner for an important milestone in my life ( 1 year sober ) she did not make the effort to be there as she was " too tired " . I got her a nice photo of the two of us framed for our 6 months which she hadn't even bothered to unwrap up to the last time I saw her which was less than a week ago..
I planned every date, paid for 98% percent of them, planned and paid for two holidays which I wouldn't mind doing had she shown effort in other ways.. Like at the beginning, she would make the effort to call me every night which was more than enough for me to know she cared. I'm not a needy bloke, I didn't need gifts and to be wined and dined but something so simple as the phone calls was good for me, but that faded around February..
Things really started to look bleek around the time of our second Holiday which was the beginning of last month. She had been out drinking the night before and told me the next day she had a guy from her class pour liquour into her mouth which personally for me, was a boundary crossed that I foolishly ignored. Then, one of the nights on holiday, while drunk, she decided to show me a list she had kept in her notes app of all her past sexual partners and even went as far to tell me how big one of the guys dicks was (upon reflection I should've left her there and then).
Now, don't get me wrong, she was not a demon. She had many moments of showing affection and care, she bought me some nice clothes for Christmas and my birthday aswell as other small but thoughtful gifts and often used to keep my favorite drinks in the fridge for when I came over. But for the mostpart, the effort was just not there and would frequently go hours without snapping me back, and often times wouldn't start an actual verbal conversation ever and there wouldn't be one if I didn't start one..
I brought up the lack of effort to her 3 or 4 times and and told her, if she just wasn't into me it was fine and we could call it quits, but we needed to communicate. Each time she would cry, maintain that she loved me, she wanted me in her life and wanted to be with me. She is super focused on her studies and I told her I totally get it and that I don't expect to come first, and don't want much, but something so simple as the nightly phone call was enough for me to know she cared. Each time she told me she would try and do better but nothing ever changed.
So, this Sunday gone, I couldn't do it anymore and initiated a break up. Once she saw I was serious she kind of scrambled to make it mutual, but I inititated it and I don't think she had intented to finish with me any time soon. I told her nothing has changed and I don't see it changing, she told me she doesn't feel she can give me what I need (which is not very much) or deserve. She said she loves me still and probably always will. The last thing I said to her was, I will miss you, I am thankful for the times we shared, wished her the best of luck with her studies and the rest of her time in my country ( she's not from here) and goodbye. I have since entered a period of no contact with her.
I also don't believe there was another guy on the scene, she was never secretive with her phone and always left her location on, which I never checked as I found that to be unhealthy, but her wilingness to leave it on was fairly reassuring in that regard.
The reason I am conflicted is because, I don't believe she saw it ending and I do believe she had genuine feelings for me, but I couldn't allow myself be disrespected and taken for granted any longer for my own sanitys sake.
What I'm asking is, given it ended amicably, is it hopeless to think that she will realise what she lost and come back and make an effort, or is it dead in the water.. Afterall, even though I ended it, I am in love with her and am finding the no contact incredibly difficult although have no intention of breaking it.
I find it hard to believe she is able to let someone who did and cared so much for her go that easily, but am also aware life is cruel and unforgiving..
I'd really like some non biased opinions on this.. Thanks!
Edit: she has not yet taken down the photos of us together on Instagram if that counts for anything...

Genocide Reigns
(note: I'm an indie game developer making an action/horror title called Phantasphere. This story is a spin off set in the same universe)
Year 2480X Ryze County Police Department
He's coming. The ensuing panic spread like a virus infecting all present with symptoms of looming dread. Officers worked steadfast to prepare also taking what time remained to train the few combat hardened civilians whom had fled to the station earlier. If only they knew. This demon that presented itself as a man had led a string of senseless massacres across the country. Only recently had it begun to prioritize police stations and army bases as a means of breaking the will of civilians who knew they would be next. Officers from several counties across the states were transferred here for this last stand. This Genocide must not continue. Gracia checked her pistol. Some 20 bullets remained. "I can do this", she thought, "I have to". She had dealt with similar cases before. Some poor soul is overtaken by some inextricably evil force and makes it their life's work to propagate death. Gracia had killed quite a few already. Live arrests weren't always possible. Beyond saving, careful interrogations of the scarce live catches yielded a startling connection. These killers all alluded to a well of overwhelming hatred and despair that consumed them after making eye contact with...Pale, black eyed entities. Some type of demon? Ghost maybe? The idea seemed nonsensical, but there was evidence nonetheless that some outside force was using them to fulfill some unknown purpose. At the present time, all they could do was stop the killers after they had killed. It was always too late by then and more would appear randomly elsewhere. What good could be done here in an isolated station hoping to stop one guy out of possibly hundreds? "The guy we're waiting for is different from the others," detective Evans spoke from the center of a crowd nearby. Gracia moved in closer. "The others typically strike from the shadows, hide their faces behind masks, and prefer to get up close and personal with their victims. What we're dealing with is on a completely different scale. The trail of bloodshed this guy leaves is too difficult for the media to cover up. He loves the spectacle. Headlining the news. We can't keep using the burst pipeline excuse for 6 stations being destroyed in a row. We have to stop him before the world at large finds out. You wonder why we need so many people here? Its simple. We're gonna out-man this one man. He always attacks stations through the front door. Like other killers he's fast, strong- you know the usual, but he also uses guns." "What!", a voice rang out from the crowd. "They aren't supposed to do that!" another gasped. Officer Lary spoke with a cheesy grin" Ya tellin' me we just gotta deal with a regular ass gunman eh? That's a welcome change of pace init? Heck I'm too old to be running around being chased like I'm in some scary movie". The detective rebutted" You don't get it. He uses guns. Not a handgun, not rifles, not boom sticks, not rpgs, not knives not grenades but ALL of them. He uses guns. Plural. It'll take essentially an army to match his arsenal. He used to be a man named -redacted-, but in his pursuit of chaos he has become Genocide." A dark form manifests from the night outside the station. Genocide is coming.
Bang! something slams into the front door. Everyone freezes. Officer Tatum edges slowly to it, shockgun in hand. By no means lethal, the shockgun was lighter, easy to control, and could stun targets temporarily. If Genocide was here, Tatum could stun him and duck for cover leaving the station free to light him up like a Christmas tree. That was the plan they came up with. He got closer to the glass door and peered outside. He was met with hate filled bloodshot eyes framed by an unkempt beard and wild straggly hair. Tatum felt some relief. He knew the man outside. It was Jim Jimenez. Jim was a former drug dealer turned informant. He was found out and had to flee from his old life. He became homeless, hiding in plane sight. This allowed him safety at the cost of his mental health. Tatum knew the man, but those eyes were not his. Tatum blinked and saw that the look of malice had vanished. What he instead saw was a helpless, wounded man, bleeding from the right arm pleading for help. Tatum looked behind Jim, eyeing the empty lot. The coast seemingly clear Tatum unlocked the door and let Jim in. Jim had been roaming the town looking for shelter and tried squatting in an abandoned looking apartment complex. There he found that the building contained several murdered families some succumbing to gunshots but the majority having met their end to fire and suffocation. Jim had decided to make his way to the station to tell police what happened and met trouble on the way. He described getting stabbed by a man wearing a trench coat with long dark hair. Despite the injuries, Jim could move surprisingly well and seemed to ignore the pain. Jim insisted that the man had spared him on the condition he deliver a message. "What message?" Tatum asked. Jim beckoned him to come closer. Tatum leaned in and Jim whispered, "Tell them. Tell them that Genocide is coming closer." The following events were a blur. Jim had concealed the knife he was stabbed with. He stabbed Tatum 4 times in the chest and wrestled his shockgun away. Using Tatum as a shield, Jim engaged everyone in the lobby. Jim wasn't himself. He was stronger. He was faster. He was tactical. He would stun an officer in place only to stab them and use their as a body shield. No one could get a clear shot without hitting a colleague. Gracia watched the scene unfold. In minutes Jim had acquired a magnum from the holster of one of his victims. In seconds 3 officers had their heads exploded. The magnum rounds coated the walls red with those they hit and stained the clothes of those they missed. Gracia felt fear rising in her chest. She calmed herself and tried to think. She saw the bodies on the ground. The blood. She saw how dismissively Jim stepped over them. Like they were nothing. Like trash. She saw the man firing erratically into groups of people, not so much to kill but as to cause panic. That's it! As Gracia contemplated her next move it hit her. She was knocked backwards and landed on the ground. She weakly clutched her chest. Her breathing grew shallow. Jim mad his way deeper into the station. The officers were retreating from their standoff. Jim stepped over her body and saw red staining her uniform. Just another casualty. He moved on. At this point the civilians began panicking. Everyone gave up trying to save their allies and fired blindly at the madman. "Don't shoot the messenger," Jim laughed as he stripped his latest meat shield of an automatic rifle. Detective Evans took cover behind an overturned desk. To his left Larry struggled to light a cigar. "You still think this is a cakewalk?" Evans shouted firing 2 quick shots from his gun before ducking back down. Lary lost hold of his lighter and it clattered on the ground." Crap." He reached for it and looked in the corner of the room. A mirror. He looked at it for what seemed like ages and his smirk returned " Y'know that mex'n gal with the short hair. Where is she? I didn't see her get shot." Evans glanced a peak at Jim spraying lead in all directions. Behind him was a corpse. Evans blinked. It seemed to be getting closer. Its her. Gracia painstakingly inched her way into Jim's blind spot. She was roughly 6 feet away from him. Flanking him seemed like a brilliant idea but waiting idly by for the right moment as the people around her died filled her with anger. Worse still, she had to steal a blood soaked shirt from one of the deceased officers to keep up the facade. Inching ever so steadily she mad it within 3 feet of Jim. She reached behind her belt and unclipped a pair of handcuffs. Screams could be heard as more people were hit. Gracia couldn't wait any longer. Fluidly she got to her feet and rushed Jim. She kicked the back of his knee causing him to stumble as she put the handcuffs on him. Figuratively. The handcuffs were around Jim's neck. She yanked him back causing his gun to drop. "You don't know what you're doing." Jim spat. "We all need to accept it. The end of days is upon us. Death rides his horse through these forsaken lands. We must serve or be sacrificed in turn. Accept it!"He elbowed Gracia in the ribs causing her to let go. He spun around and lunged at her. She landed on her back, Jim steadily choking her. Gracia thought fast. She couldn't struggle. Jim was too strong. She delivered a precise chop to the center of Jim's neck which was exposed. Jim lurched back to catch his breath. A clean shot. A bullet pierced through Jim's back. Weakened, Gracia rolled him over and began punching him repeatedly using the handcuffs as brass knuckles. The sound of Jim's skull cracking echoed through the station. This would go on for nearly 20 seconds before Gracia stopped, checked his pulse, confirmed Jim was still alive, then finally put the cuffs on Jim's wrists.
Click. Bodies are wrapped and moved to a makeshift storage room. Click. The available weapons are gathered and redistributed. Click. Officers are assigned to sniping positions on neighboring buildings. Click. Police cruisers circle the lot outside. Click. In the holding cell, Jim opens his eyes. Click. Lary flicks his lighter. Click. Gracia sips coffee from a paper cup. Click. Shells hit the ground at the feet of Genocide. Click. Genocide walks outside a cafe and looks at the station in the distance. Click. Lary clicks his lighter.
"All ya'll gon' fall," Jim ranted." You can't drain the ocean. You can't put out the sun. Evil will always exist. That there Genocide is proof . I saw him. Saw myself within his eyes. Saw the evil in me that I could no longer try to hide. He taught me to embrace the darkness within. Its in all of us begging to be let out. Can you hear it!" Lary clicked his lighter and got up from his chair. He grabbed a cup of liquor from another officer mid sip and walked over to Jim. He doused it on Jim, the liquid stinging his open wounds. Jim yelped. Across the station, radios blurred to life. Several of their lookouts on the outside had been killed. "He's gon' get ya," Jim smiled imitating Lary's signature grin. "Genocide! Genocide! Genocide!" The other inmates saw the chance to irritate Lary and joined in all shouting in unison,"Ge-No-Cide! Ge-No-Cide! Ge-No-Cide!" The chanting grew louder. Unbearable. They invoked upon the name of the beast, and so it came.
Genocide is upon us. A wave of dread spread across the officers. They could feel its presence. Gracia knew the sensation. The awful aura that the other killers gave off. This was different. Far more oppressive. She struggled to breathe as the air got colder. Her instincts screamed for her to run. She could only imagine what the others were going through. Its time. Across the lot Genocide stood. A siren blared over the intercom. "Everyone get into positions!" Evans yelled. Wayne finished setting the last of the c4 near the station entrance. "That's the last of them. Have remote triggers set around all the major hallways. I'll be in the security room ready to pull the switch." Wayne acted as an explosives expert. His job was to detonate bombs placed throughout the station to slow down Genocide should it enter the building. He would stay in the security room, monitoring the cameras and giving real time updates on the officers' positions. From the holding cell, inmates chanted for Genocide. Lary got off his phone" That bastard mixed us up. How did we not notice?" Evans asked what he meant. Lary, dumbfounded, said that most of the town was already dead. Genocide had broken his usual pattern. He went on a killing spree across a defenseless town BEFORE attacking the police station. They had let everyone down. The people they swore to protect. This Genocide was a monster, but he was still a man. Capable of learning from his past actions. Planning. Adapting. It wasn't in his style to stealthily kill his victims or even use a silencer on any of his guns, but an exception had been made for tonight. An exception that would cost them. Gracia was stationed on the second floor. She peered out the window. Her heart skipped a beat. Two cruisers made slow donuts patrolling the lot and standing unmoving between them was a man all in black. Gracia called in to Wayne asking if he saw anything outside. Wayne said the monitors were all clear then checked again. He cursed. He noticed small details were off. The cameras showing the outside of the station were wrong. Sure they showed the same scenery and weather but cars passed by on screen too frequently for a dead town. Too many to make sense for the quarantine they had set in place. Wayne concluded that the cameras had been hacked. Different prerecorded footage was being shown on the live feed to misdirect them. Gracia saw the man look up at her. A light rain started to fall. The officers patrolling outside were contacted. From the holding cells, inmates called for genocide.

My car's transmission is on the fritz, so it's in the shop and I'm working from home for at least today. Thank goodness I can even work from home, or things would be a lot more complicated. Anyways, that's just a bit of a vent. I've also decided that I might do little lore-esque prechapter bits for some extra flavor. Hope you guys enjoy them! I find them to be fun little thought experiments on how people might perceive the world I've created from within vs from my own perspective. Enjoy some crafting and some romance!
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We know that the spots that are caused by looking at a source of light are, in fact, damage of some sort to the eye. This is confirmed by the spots rapidly disappearing should someone be healed whilst experiencing them. But why? Is there a divinity within light, beyond what our mortal eyes can withstand? Is there some sort of invisible emanation that comes alongside the light that damages us in some way? The discovery of light damaging the eye has opened more questions for me than it has closed.
-Musings on the Relations of Light and Fire, by Jarwic Leftun
\***
Xander carefully opened the door, finding Gabrelle already asleep, and sat down on a chair. Maybe he could get that adaptive camouflage to work right on bright colors. Surely he had some colorful things in his inventory.
He did in fact have a few colorful things in his inventory, and he whiled the rest of the night away making small adjustments to the runic array that was embroidered into the cloth. He was satisfied before dawn, the cloth now performing as well with light colors as it had with darker colors. Now he just needed to make a cloak out of it. He briefly considered coating his armor with the array, but discarded it. There might be times where he’d want to be seen. Besides, a hooded cloak would better break up the outline of his figure, the ripples of fabric, especially if he were to crouch or lay prone, obscuring his outline even more. In little time at all, he had a long, deep hooded cloak of the color shifting, runed cloth in his hands. He stashed it in his inventory for now, as he had no particular need to sneak up on something right now. The rest of the time before dawn he spent silently sitting in the chair he’d chosen, trying to keep his thoughts to a minimum, just daydreaming. Night dreaming? He couldn’t sleep anymore, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to let his mind wander.
As the dawn came and the sun began to shine through the window of the room, Gabrelle slowly awoke, once more finding Xander sitting in a chair rather than in bed.
“Mmf,” She grunted as she stretched. “Morning, Xander. You got back late.”
“Morning, yourself,” Xander said, turning his head to look at Gabrelle. “Yeah... Yeah, I guess I did.”
“What were you doing, anyway?” She asked, curious. “You didn’t mention that you’d be out late, just that you were going to go to see Valteria at her shop.”
“I uh... went on a date.”
“I knew it! ‘Comparing notes’ was a date!” Gabrelle exclaimed triumphantly.
“It was not!” Xander complained. “But we went to a tavern in the evening and it sort of... turned into a date on the way there.”
“Awhh, that’s so cute,” Gabrelle said. “Did it go well? Is she nice? Did you kiss?”
“I think it went well. We talked a lot about different projects and ideas we had. I also got to meet another [Godsmarked] - he owns the tavern we went to. I think she’s nice. Maybe a little shy. I think she’s gotten used to being treated differently by people. I don’t think she really believed that I wanted to go on a date with her, at first. ...And yes. We kissed.”
“Ooooh, look at you! You’re growing up so fast!” Gabrelle teased.
“Oh hush. I’m older than you!” Xander huffed, then returned to seriousness. “But ah, if I’m going to be dating someone... we need to have a conversation, Gabrelle.”
“We need to stop sleeping together?” Gabrelle quickly deduced before Xander could say it himself.
“Yeah... It doesn’t feel right, even though it’s just platonic between us. I don’t think I would appreciate being in Valteria’s situation and knowing that the person I was seeing was sleeping with someone else at night.”
“Well, I figured this would happen eventually,” Gabrelle said. “Either you or I were bound to find someone eventually. Don’t worry, I’m not upset. Don’t get me wrong, the snuggles were nice, but like I told you a while ago, I don’t have nearly as much trouble sleeping when I’m with the team.”
“Thanks for not being upset, Gabrelle.”
“You know this means you have to start paying for your own room, though, right?”
“Ah, shit, you’re right. I forgot.”
Xander left the room to allow Gabrelle some privacy to get dressed and meandered back down the stairs to see if any other members of the team were already up. Looking around, he spied Graffus eating breakfast at at table and moved to sit with the dwarf.
“Mornin’” Graffus greeted Xander through a mouthful of bread.
“Morning,” Xander greeted back.
“Glad to see you made it back, we were wondering if you’d be out all night,” Graffus told him, after swallowing his bread.
“I was out a bit late, I suppose. I let the time get away from me.” Xander said, not really wanted to be teased again about going out on a date. “So what are you planning to do today?”
“Bah, Frazay has roped me into helping her do research for the drakeling. So reading is what’s in store for me.” Graffus tore himself off another piece of bread from his plate and slathered it with jam. “You going to be going back to that [Tinker] you’ve been spending time with lately?”
“Yeah, that’s the plan. I’m supposed to learn more about converting mana types today, and also help her fix the suit of armor that I wrecked.”
“Welp,” Graffus said, now on his last piece of bread, “I hope ya learn something new. Never had much to do with [Tinker]s – not saying I dislike them, just that I haven’t had much experience with them – so it don’t make much sense to me. Using a hammer is about the only overlap in our professions.”
“I think your hammer is significantly larger than the one most [Tinker]s would use,” Xander chuckled. Thinking about what he should be doing before he headed to Valteria’s, he asked Graffus, “Hey, I might need to buy some monster parts or elemental cores, something like that, for practice. You know where I would go to find stuff like that?”
Graffus shrugged. “Dunno. My guess would be an alchemy and reagents shop. That’s generally what we’ve sold monster parts to that didn’t go to a smith or leatherworker.”
“Thanks, Graffus.”
The two of them chatted for a while longer, catching up on what each other had been doing. Graffus excused himself to finish getting ready for the day, saying he needed to tend to his beard, leaving Xander downstairs. Deciding to be productive and proactive, Xander stood as well and headed out of the inn to find an alchemy shop.
It wasn’t long before he found one, a familiar scene of an eclectic collection of powders, liquids, crystals, and strange organic things floating in jars inside the building. The proprietor was a dwarf, seated at a workbench. They were grinding something into a powder as Xander entered. He received a distracted greeting before the dwarf returned to his work.
Xander wandered about the shop for a few minutes, looking at the various materials throughout the shop. He identified what he thought might be an elemental core, a jagged piece of crystal looking material that seemed to have an inner flame. As for the monster parts in jars, Xander had no idea what was what. He finally felt he’d waited long enough and moved closer to the worktable that the dwarf was still sitting at, working away at the mortar and pestle.
“Excuse me,” Xander said, grabbing the shopkeep’s attention.
“Mm?” The dwarf said questioningly. “Can I help you find something?”
“I was wondering if you had any elemental cores. Something small, I just need one to practice with.”
“Aye, I’ve a few of them around the shop. You want something to practice with? So a relatively weak core, then – not all the small ones are weak. Do you need any particular type?” The dwarf stood up and stretched, moving to one of the shelves.
“Uhm no, just whatever is cost effective, I suppose.”
The alchemist rifled through the various bits and bobs on one of the shelves nearby before producing a small chip of what looked to be a semi-translucent stone. It was tinged slightly yellow with streaks of white. “This here is a chip off a lightning attuned core. Pretty weak, but it does still produce mana.”
Xander could see the dwarf’s arm hair standing up as if from static electicity as he held up the stone. “How much?” He asked.
“Twenty gold.”
Xander shrugged. Twenty gold wasn’t an issue for him anymore, and he didn’t feel like haggling. He always hated haggling. “Sure.” He fished out the coin and handed it over to the dwarf.
The dwarf handed over the stone to Xander and the pop of a static electric shock could be heard as a tiny arc passed between the two of them. The dwarf grunted and shook his hand. “Thanks for the business,” he told Xander. “Anything else you find yourself in need of?”
“Not at the moment, but thanks for asking.” Xander waved goodbye to the dwarf and pocketed the tiny elemental core. He continued down the street in the direction of Valteria’s shop, thinking about how he was going to undo the welding job he’d done on Valteria’s armor. He’d need her to guide his repair efforts.
Xander returned to the inn momentarily to grab one of his golems. He settled on Atlas for now, as it was the most basic of the humanoid forms he’d created. No extra arms or weird feet on him, no sir.
Arriving at the building that contained Valteria’s home and shop, Xander knocked before opening the door. “Morning,” he called out.
“Xander! Hello!” Valteria called out. She was at the same work bench she’d been at yesterday. Jarrett didn’t seem to be in the shop at the moment, as Xander wasn’t able to spot the man.
Commanding Atlas to follow him in and closing the door behind him, Xander started walking towards Valteria. “How’s it going?” He asked.
“Good, it’s going good,” Valteria responded as Xander brought a stool over to her workbench. “How about yourself?”
“Not bad. The upside of not sleeping is that I never struggle in the mornings now. I used to hate waking up.” Xander laughed. “I even ran an errand before I came here! Picked up this.” Xander fished around in his pocket until he found the small chip of elemental core and held it up for Valteria to see.
“Core?” She asked distractedly, staring at Atlas. She tore her eyes away and looked closely at the small crystalline stone. “Lightning attuned?”
“That’s what the [Alchemist] at the shop said,” Xander affirmed. “Said it was a very weak one, but that it did still produce mana.”
“Mmm, a good practice piece, then.”
“I thought it would be, too. Not that I know what to do with it, yet.”
“Well, how about this: I teach you to set the stone and make some conduit, and then you can help me fix my armor. All the glue has turned to dust by now, thank the gods.”
“Sounds fair enough. So, how do mana conduits work?”
“Well, the concept is simple enough. It’s a tube which conducts mana,” Valteria began to explain.
“Mmhm.” Xander nodded along.
“What you need is a setting – usually of silver, as it has good mana conductivity – which will be the first step of conduction, taking the mana from the stone. Simply wrapping the core in silver wire can work well enough, drawing in the mana that the core puts out through its surface, but for a more effecient setting, small holes are usually drilled into the core to set the wire into as well, giving more surface area to draw from.”
“So we care about the mana conductivity of the material, then? That makes sense, I just hadn’t thought about it. I actually did a little experiment with my rune work to test which fillings were the most conductive.”
“Oh really?” Valteria said, interested. “What were your results?”
“Well, gold and silver were high up there in conductivity, and probably make the most sense for someone who has to physically manipulate material without use of a skill – both for a core setting and for inlaying a rune – but I did find that sapphires and rubies were even more efficient at transferring mana than gold and silver.”
“Mmm... interesting. I’ve heard of gemstones being used in very high-grade settings, as well as various other exotic materials. I read an account of one [Mechanist] who used tubes of mercury to conduct mana, though the relative effectiveness compared to silver wasn’t mentioned.” Valteria cleared her throat. “Uhm, now, where was I? Right, basic settings. Once you have your core – or monster organ, if you’re going that route – you connect it to the conduit. Usually, this is also silver wiring. I like to braid several smaller wires together, personally. I find it to be sturdier and hold up to flexing better. From there, it needs to be tied into a device. Which is a topic for tomorrow.” Looking around the shop, Valteria seemed to identify something on one of the shelves nearby. “I have a core that you could watch me set, and then you could try setting your own, if you’d like.”
“That sounds good to me,” Xander said. “I always love to see a master as work,” he added, opting for a little flattery.
“Follow me, then.” Valteria said, standing up from her stool and waving for Xander to follow.
Xander followed Valteria as she walked over to the shelf she’d been looking at earlier and took a palm sized, bright green stone from it. “Nature attuned core,” She explained, holding it for Xander to see. “I’m told it was taken from some kind of moving tree.” Valteria then moved to another worktable, on which were several of what looked to be drill bits to Xander. There was also an apparatus that look like it was designed to hold the bits, which was confirmed for him when Valteria slotted one of the small drill heads into the device. “This thing,” Valteria said, waving the drill a little bit, “is a life saver. I used to have to drill holes with a hand cranked one. Worth every single coin I paid for it to get an enchanted one.” She turned a dial on one side of the handheld device, which Xander was coming to think of as a magic dremel tool, and it began to come to life, the drill bit beginning to spin with a quiet whirring sound.
“Neat.” Xander commented. He watched patiently as Valteria drilled a series of shallow holes in the stone, the distinct screeching of metal on stone echoing through the shop floor. “So where’s Jarrett today?” He asked.
“Oh, he has the day off today. He asked for it about a week ago, not sure what for, though,” Valteria said distractedly. Soon she was finished with the holes she was drilling into the core, and moved to another workbench. “Now we create a setting for the core. This is a fairly simple way of doing it, mind you, but it is effective.”
Xander watched as she took sections of pre-braided silver wire and fitted the ends into the holes she had drilled. Once each hole was filled with a section of wire, Valteria began to pull wire from a spool, wrapping the stone until it was completely covered with silver wire and binding the braided sections to the stone in the process. “There,” she said, setting the stone down on the workbench. “A perfectly serviceable setting."
“So, if I understand correctly, you coat the core in a mana conductive material – the more surface area, the better, hence the holes – to create a setting?”
“Mmhmm,” Valteria said, nodding.
“Seems fairly straighforward. And then you connect the silver wiring that’s wrapped around it to more wiring, and attach that to your device? Why the distance? Why not just connect the setting directly to the device?”
“You absolutely can, if space isn’t an issue. Technically, the connection between the mana battery and the device, even if it’s just a single point with no distance, is still referred to as a conduit, though, so it’s considered a three part creation.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Do you want to try making your own, now? I don’t mind lending you a little wire.”
“Sure, but I should be good on material, I can produce it with my skills. Doesn’t last without a source of mana, but I guess the core itself might provide enough. Think this little chip is a bit small to put holes in, though.”
Xander looked at the small piece of crystal in his hand. If he just need as much contact as possible with a mana conductive material, his best bet would be to embed it into a sapphire or ruby. He decided on ruby, for no particular reason. Still holding the chip of core in his hand, he concentrated on his [Creation] ability. Valteria watched, amazed, as a ruby began to take form and grow around the piece of core until it was completely coated in a thin layer of gemstone.
“So, you can just... make things?” Valteria asked, sounding jealous.
“Well, it costs mana, and anything I make that isn’t provided a source of mana that leaves my person disintegrates in a day, but, yes. I can just make things with my skills. But,” he added, cutting off Valteria’s complaint of unfairness, “I have never received a skill that actually lets me improve a material. Sure, I have runes, which generally makes up the difference, but I don’t have any skills that improve the things I make. So, if you made a mana battery, and I made a mana battery the same way with identical materials, yours is going to be better, I assume, because you have skills that passively improve the things that you make, am I right?”
“Okayyy,” Valteria huffed. “I guess that does make it a little less unfair. But ugh! It would be so nice not having to source materials.” She looked at the ruby with a piece of core set inside it that Xander had made. “Well, I guess that about does it for making a setting... I thought it might have taken you longer to make one. I guess we can move on to fixing my armor even sooner! It’ll be nice to have it up and moving again.”
“Sure, sure, we can do that. Where is it, anyway?” Xander asked, looking around the shop again like he somehow would have missed the eight foot tall suit of armor.
“It’s in a shed behind the house,” Valteria explained. “I have it on a hoist so I can work on it.”
“Ah, that would explain why I haven’t seen it around.”
Exiting the shop, stopping for Valteria to put a small ‘closed’ sign on the door, the two of them made their way around the building, where Xander saw the small shed that presumably held Valteria’s armor. It looked like it could just barely hold the armor and one person – two, if they were comfortable with each other – inside it.
“So this is where the magic happens?” Xander asked.
“If by ‘magic’ you mean maintenance and upgrades, then yes,” Valteria agreed. She opened the door of the shed, which comprised most of the front of the tiny little building, revealing her suit of armor, which was currently hanging from several chains attached to pulleys on the ceiling. Plates of armor were laying strewn about the suite, leaving the joints and inner workings more exposed.
Xander whistled, looking at the inner workings of the suit. He could see gears, cogs, and joints, and throughout the entirety of the armor were running filaments of silver wire, which he assumed were mana conduits running to and from elemental cores and the various mana powered aspects of the suit. “This thing really is impressive. Almost as impressive as the woman who made it,” he said.
Valteria giggled, “Stop it! You’re supposed to be fixing this mess, not flirting with me!”
“Awh, can’t I do both?” Xander asked, trying to sound as saccharine as possible.
“Mmm, I suppose that if you are sufficiently skilled at multitasking, I might allow it,” Valteria said in a mockingly thoughtful tone.
“Well, I just so happen to be an expert, so flirt away I shall,” Xander replied. “Now, how about the beauty in front of me shows me exactly where the other beauty in front of me needs some repairs?”
Valteria sighed at Xander’s antics, but he could see the slight flush in her face. “Well, you welded the wrist joints, elbows, and knees. They aren’t welded all the way round, it’s more like you smoothed over a portion of it like it was wet clay. So if you could just... put it back? Shape it back to how it was, that’s should be all that’s needed.”
“Pretty straightforward,” Xander said, standing behind Valteria as she pointed out each joint. He could see the misshapen parts where he’d slapped a weld onto the metal. He leaned over her and put his hands on the elbow joint that they were closest to and began to shape the metal back to its original form.
“You’re... very close,” Valteria murmured to him as he formed the metal.
“Would you like me not to be?” He asked, carefully.
Valteria was silent for a moment before answering, “No...” quietly.
Xander carefully shifted to be a little closer, but still not quite touching, as he moved on to the wrist joint of the same arm. The process itself was simple, but he was enjoying taking his time. As he finished the wrist, he turned to look at Valteria. He found himself looking right into her eyes, as she was staring back at him. Unable to resist the temptation he leaned in a little closer, gauging Valteria’s reaction. When she, too, leaned towards him, he closed the small gap between them, drawing her into another kiss. Valteria pressed herself against him, the shed hiding them from any prying eyes on the street, and let out a small noise as Xander squeezed her tight. She was breathing a little bit harder than before the kiss as they separated again.
Valteria let out a breath. “You’re… a really good kisser.”
“Yeah?” Xander said, pleased with himself. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“And you’re a tease, looming over me like that in this tiny little shed,” Valteria continued. “Now you’ve got me all flustered, how am I supposed to work now?” She mock complained.
Xander was glad to see that Valteria was comfortable enough with him to joke like that. “Forgive me,” he said formally, making a deep bow, “How ever can I make it up to the lady?”
“Oh stop it, I will tolerate no bowing and scraping, even in jest,” Valteria said, slapping him lightly on the shoulder, as he was still holding the bow. “You can make it up to me by fixing the rest of these joints! And by taking me out to dinner?” She added, hopefully.
“I think that can be arranged,” Xander said. “Is there anywhere you have in mind? I will admit, I haven’t become very familiar with the local restaurant scene, what with my… dietary restrictions.”
“It doesn’t… make you feel bad to go out to a restaurant, does it?” Valteria asked softly, watching his face for a reaction.
“Nah, don’t worry,” Xander said, waving off the question with one hand. “It doesn’t bother me too much. Sure, I miss the taste of a good cut of steak, but I was never that into food. Eating was more of a thing I did because I had to, so I’m not completely devastated by the loss. And I can still get some vicarious enjoyment out of watching someone else enjoy their food. Really the worst part is awkwardly having to refuse ordering anything,” he said with a laugh.
“Alright, if you say so,” Valteria said, letting out a slight breath of relief. “I was just worried that it might be upsetting to you, is all. I know I would miss eating.” She paused for a moment, something clearly on her mind. “What do you miss? If you don’t mind my asking. I just… well, I’m curious what it’s like for you.”
“Mmm, in a lot of ways, life is still the same, and in other ways, I’m technically doing better than I was before. I’m incredibly resistant to damage now, even without my armor. I do miss sleeping, though. I try to give my mind a rest and just sort of daydream and let my thoughts wander or do some meditation during the nights, but it’s just not the same. Also means I’m the one that pulls guard duty through the night,” he grumbled. “Let’s see, what else, what else. Ah, right. I can’t smell anything. Or taste. I haven’t worked out how to recreate those senses, yet. Though no sense of smell can be handy sometimes, I suppose. I don’t know if you’ve done much merc work – you mentioned being surprised that I’m not just moonlighting – but uh… the smells that you encounter on a battlefield are… unpleasant. To say the least. It was weird not having a sense of touch either, but I’ve resolved that. It’s a little bit different than my previous, natural sense of touch, but I’ve become accustomed to it to the point that I don’t much think about the difference anymore. I think I’ve even got the density of receptors down in certain areas compared to others, so I'm more sensitive in some areas than others now, just like I used to be. I’m still immune to being tickled though, so don’t even think about it – that’s a fight you’ll lose.” Growing a bit more somber, Xander continued on. “I think… the biggest thing I miss is just the feeling that I fit in more. Now I always worry about being different, there’s that nagging fear that anyone I get to know well is going to reject me once they find out what I am. Like I’m secretly lying to everyone around me with this façade I have going on.”
Valteria nodded sadly. “I get that. I’ve been… rejected before, too. At least it happens or not right from the beginning for me. I get to know if they look down on me for being different immediately instead of fearing they might later down the road.”
“Yeah,” Xander said. “People can really suck sometimes. But at least I can just, like, not tell people what I am if I so chose. You, my teammates, and the guild, since it’s on my status sheet, are really the only people who know. I keep it pretty private. You can’t do that, so I think you probably have to deal with a lot worse than I do. Not that I’d want you to hide what or who you are,” he added. “I happen to be quite enamored with who you are,” he said, teasing a smile from Valteria’s sad face.
“Sorry to bring up such a dour topic,” Valteria apologized. “I didn’t think much on it before I asked.”
“No worries,” Xander told her. “Honestly, I think it’s good to be able to talk about it with someone. It’s healthy to be able to get you feelings out there. And it helps that I feel like you understand where I’m coming from with it, though from a slightly different perspective.”
“You’re surprisingly thoughtful sometimes,” Valteria said, only half teasing.
“Only sometimes?” Xander asked with a faux expression of hurt on his face. “By the way, you didn’t react much to my comment about moonlighting as a merc. Do you ever go on contracts?”
Valteria shrugged. “I certainly wouldn’t describe myself as a professional mercenary. Moonlighter is an apt descriptor, for me, I think. I have gone on a couple, here and there, mostly on kill contracts that would net me a core or organ that would be useful for my work.”
“Mm, that makes sense. I suppose it could be handy having access to the ability to take contracts that would give you access to specialty materials,” Xander said.
“It’s also good for business,” Valteria explained. “Mercs tend to like to buy from someone who has at least been out on a contract or two before.”
“Ah, that makes sense. What kind of things do you sell to mercenaries, anyways? I saw Jarrett with a crossbow yesterday, but I imagine you make other things, too.”
“Oh all kinds of little things. Portable, flameless heaters for cooking. Water purification sieves. Mm, let’s see… I’ve made a few custom order devices, too. One customer wanted to be able to shoot a jet of flame from their gauntlet, that was a fun one.”
“Ooh, that does sound fun… reminds me of my flamethrower.”
“Your flamethrower?”
“Yeah, it’s basically a big tank with a hose attached to it. At the end of the hose is a pump that causes the flammable liquid – I use dragon’s tar – to shoot out. Add a flame that the tar passes over and bam! You’ve got a giant stream of flame that will coat anything it hits with sticky, flammable tar,” Xander said, excitedly describing the device.
“That’s… impressive. And kind of horrifying,” Valteria responded.
“Mm… I guess you’re right. I mostly use it on giant spiders. Blugh,” Xander shuddered. “But yeah, I suppose it’s not the nicest of ways to go. Very effective for area denial, though. Ah, actually I have an idea for crossbow bolt head that would ignite when it shatters! We should make that sometime and see if it sells.”
“Hmm, I think that would draw some buyers. A flaming bolt head you didn’t have to light first could be desirable to certain buyers.”
“Put that on the list and we’ll get around to it sometime.”
“We have a list?” Valteria said confusedly.
“We should!” Xander said with a laugh. “Now let’s get the rest of these joints done.”
The repair of the other arm and the leg joints that Xander had locked into position during the tournament was a short affair. Looking over the bare metal frame of the armor still hanging from the ceiling, Xander clapped his hands together, mimicking dusting them off. “Good as new!” He exclaimed. Looking over to Valteria he asked concernedly, “It is good as new, right?”
Valteria had been staring at the armor as well, lost in thought about how she was going to improve it next. “Hmm? Oh, yes. It’s right as rain again, ready for use. Thank you, by the way. For fixing it,” She said awkwardly.
“Well I’m the one who broke it, so it’s only fair that I fix it. So what do you want to work on next?” Xander asked. “I could do some rune work for you. Orrr… we could kiss some more?”
Valteria flushed at the question, but didn’t immediately say no.
A few minutes later, she found herself on her tip toes and lightly pressed against the interior wall of the shed, her lips pressed against Xanders.
Once the two of them were done acting like teenagers parked in a secluded parking lot, they made their way back into the shop. Stepping inside and closing the door behind them, Valteria let out a breath. “I think… you are going to have to do a lot of rune work to make up for how much you just kissed me, Xander.”
“What, you didn’t like it?” He said with a raised eyebrow.
“I didn’t say that,” Valteria said with a smirk.

Since today would be our dear nuke fish´s birthday, I wanted to reflect on her path and her story as well as ask for your opinions
Zebrica was released almost 2 years ago (yes it has been that long already) and Posada is still talked about more than most other Zebrica character, So I thought was it all justified ? (my flair says yes) and what exactly is making Posada so popular. So lets look at her path from a Gameplay perspective first.
Her path is quiet long and even with foresight will normally take till 1018-1020 (putting warplan Hydrogen aside) depending on if one managed to research the tech early and get those 50 nukes for the sunset test. The path consist of essentially 3-4 years of building up, 1 big war and a couple of smaller wars and lots of events. Now for that 11-13 years of Gameplay that is clearly not enough wars to fill the years with exciting gameplay, however the path massively buffs the amount of volunteer division you can send, fixes this issue somewhat. Still I would say if you want to have fun with the navy, hippogriffia is one of the few nation where you can find it. Posadas path also features no mini game or unigue mechanic, which seems like a missed opportunity, however at the same time, this makes Posadas path much more accessible and beginner friendly, for comparison some paths are dragged down by mini games and early-game hell. like 3 civil wars or a magic system that kills all the fun early in the path, both can stop player from replaying the paths or even completing it at all.
The Story is rather linear, there arent really any story branches, except for very short Fail States or completely different paths one can achieve. However for me personally the story is amazing, its a tale as old as time about Idealism vs cynicism, where justice starts and where vengeance begins and of course how Posada evolves, what are her and the players choices when faced with decisions, all of which can make the player ask themselves why they believe what is right and what is wrong. Sure the story is not perfect, Skystar is given way too much focus and there is definitely some Moral Myopia going on, when compared to other "wholesome" nations of the mod, but unlike many other paths it at least says something and has moved me more on an emotional level than any other path in the mod.
Now Posada, she and her vision is an idealist version of a socialist vanguard with big scientific characteristics (space and nukes). Posada is a visionary who suffers from no corruption but can fall to her darkest impulses and cause just as much harm as many eviler leaders. This would be rather Cliché, but Posada manages to sell it better than most adaptation of this trope by simply constantly holding up a mirror to her action and making her both a victim and an optimist at the start. Posada even before her torture and PTSD was an outcast, if she was alive in our world during the 40s she would have been discarded to the fringes of society or held inside an insane asylum (in 1940 these asylums were anything but helpful), but despite all the suffering she had to go through, she didnt become a monster or an emotionless wreck. She really did start to believe in something good and began to hope and work for a better future (its up to the player how it will turn out). While its not a deep dive into psychological health, I think Posada is the best representation of it, both in the mod and in the entirety of Hoi4. (it certainly better than the "abuse/rape made me stronger" female characters, who lost all of their emotions and personality).
To finish this "essay" I want to thank the devs for writing her path and story, a story that has gotten me to think about many topics and has moved me emotionally and one that I will never forget. Still these are just my thoughts on the path, what are yours or did any other path moved you on an emotional level.
Art made by: marusya
tldr: I still think Posada has the best path of the mod and wanted to share some of my thoughts about it and her story, and ask the community why they think how Posada managed to be so populasuccessful.

A couple of years ago I tried writing my own version of Stones Abbigale. I never got past the first couple scenes, but I'm considering returning to it. I wanted to basically rewrite and change up a lot of things, mainly focusing on Abbi and Davis and changing some elements. Let me know what you think!

1
It's almost four in the morning and Seth is threatening suicide again. Good. Fuck him. I hope he does it. I don't text him that because I read about this girl who told her boyfriend to kill himself. The irony was that when he actually did it she got charged with second degree murder. My life is fucked as it is I don't need to make it worse. It's almost two in the morning and I have to be up for school in a few hours. I’m shivering under my comforter because we’re halfway through November. I think about the turkey that won't get made this year and the family I won't see. I think that's swell. Seth is still texting.
Its like u dont even care after everything that happened and after everything we did together i saved ur life and i stayed with u when u cried and i hugged u and i did everything for u but that wasn't enough was it? i try so hard and all u ever are is a bitch to me that's not fair u want me to die and u hate me and u dont even care and im sick of it abbi why is is so hard for u to care about me?
I don't respond. I don't like how I feel about this. This should be easy. He won't actually do it. He won't. He’s too self involved to kill himself. I put my phone face down on my bed. The sheets shake around it as he sends message after message. I was sleeping on a ticking bomb so I got off of it. My feet stick to the floor, I struggle to step. I might as well have been standing barefoot on ice. I trudge to my window so I can see my street at night. Winter is really coming. You can't hear as many birds as you used to. They've all gone. They've all flown away. I can see three streetlights from where I’m standing. If you can from right to left you can see the concrete fracture into the sand. I open my window and brace for the chill. I stick my head outside. The ocean is not far away. I hear it hitting the shore over and over. Waves of water splashing incessantly, almost beating out my text notifications. The street lights flicker. I think of last summer. When Seth and I got really high after the news broke that my Mom was cheating on my Dad. I was making out with that bong. Emptying bowl after bowl, clanking the glass on the road to empty it out. Just thinking about it makes me feel the street pole against my back again. I was laughing and crying. Seth leaned in and hugged me. “I’m a sure thing,” he said. “I love you and I always will.” I caught my reflection in his sunglasses. I looked awful. I shiver at the memory. My phone is still buzzing. I try to catch my breath. I shut my window and start to walk back to my bed. A room always looks different in the dark. Maybe you think you know where you are, but there is always something that can jump out at you on the floor. Like a ghostly paper bag or a vengeful shoe. Objects that seem to move on their own with the sole drive of tripping you. I crawl back into bed. There's the phantom of Dad’s snoring . I know he's not sleeping in his room, he fell asleep on the couch after finishing his seventh fifth. Sometimes my brain fills in the gaps so I can hear it everywhere. Funnily, I haven't actually heard him snore since Mom left. That's the one thing I ever heard them fight about. Before she turned out to be a whore, I guess. BZZT.BZZT.BZZT. I can't bring myself to read any of his messages. They're coming so fast all the paragraphs are lost to motion blur. Seth’s arms wrap around me and I think about the beating of his heart and the warmth of his lips against my skin. I open up the texts, ready to respond.
I love you
I text this over and over until I fall asleep.
Davis was the only senior on the bus. Somehow, everyone else had a car or a ride. It’s all right, though. James would probably give him one if he had a car, but he skated to school every morning. That's why he barely ever rode the bus with him. The bus thumped along the under paved roads. Davis forgot his earbuds at home, so the only music that accompanied him was his racing thoughts. Two sophomore girls popped their heads over. “Ohmigod, Davis!” One of them shrieked.. “As I live and breathe,” he smiled. “Nice,” she said. “I’m so excited to see your finished painting.” Davis took the lower level art class for a requirement. Like most things, he's not taking it very seriously. For their pop art unit, he's painting a portrait of the art teacher with a warthog face. It's one of his funny disruptions. He knows Mrs. Stanley is going to have a real field day with it, but it doesn't matter. Artistic liberties, he’d profess. “She's such a bitch, isn't she?” The sophomore girl turns to her compatriot, who only nods in response. “She's just jealous,” Davis says. “It must be depressing to teach art and see the youth soar above her.” “For sure,” the girl doesn't get it. Class clown is a semi-heavy burden. Davis doesn't really feel like talking to these girls, but his position demands it. Comedy informs everything about him. To the giant thrift store jeans, to the loud Hawaiian shirt. He and James are the ultimate combination, at least he likes to think so. Quiet brooding begs for bright distraction. The girl is still trying to talk to him and Davis is saying his preprogrammed lines. The bus stops in front of James’s street. Surprisingly, James is standing there. “Like I’m this close to just filling my hydroflask with vodka, yaknow?” says the chick. Maybe she's just trying to get a rise out of him. “Better be prepared to give me more than a sip,” Davis is watching James grumble towards the bus. The sun is beating down on the forming ice puddles. James stomps through them with small shattering steps. James turns up the bus aisle and plops in the seat next to Davis. Davis’s smile is genuine now, but he fights it from getting too wide. “Crash your vehicle?” Davis asks. “Something like it,” there's something off with him. Davis doesn't want to push it. “Well damn, hope insurance covers it,” Davis wants James to break and laugh. Is it just another mood or did something actually happen this time? “It won't, I got bad credit,” James grins and it's like heaven. “What's the move for you today?” “Surviving art and physics for me,” says Davis. “Those bastards love to keep me down.” “Who doesn't,” James eyes the girls who have since returned to whatever they were doing before. It's the judgement stare, as Davis calls it. James likes to observe his peers like a zoo-goer. Breaking them down to taxonomic types. Davis likes to think that James doesn't do this to him, but he knows he probably does. “It sucks you decided to be bad at school and take baby art,” James is still dissecting the sophomore girls down to their tropes. “We could have done Art II together.” “I wouldn't want to get between you and Alex. I know how you love it when people piss in jars next to you.” “That's disgusting,” James breaks his glare at the girls. “It's performance art, it's beautiful,” Davis gets up out of his seat to yell. “Everyone witness the wonderful work of Alex Madov! Disengage yourself from the shackles of capitalism by shouting with me: Poopy, pee pee, poop!” Davis gets a few chuckles from the other kids on the bus. “Sit down, fatso,” mumbles the bus driver. “I will not be silenced! I’m a messenger of the good word, sir!” “More of this shit and I’m skipping your stop!” “Fine, but I will make Alex remember on the day of judgement,” Davis sits back down. James is full belly laughing. “You're so retarded,” James wheezes. Davis can't even come back with a response. He's high off of it.
The bus pulls into the school lot with a short stop. The mobs get up and begin to race out. Davis follows James down the line. “You know Abbi?” James asks. Davis feels a little pit form in his stomach, but he doesn't change his expression. “Vaguely, what about her?” “She's in my art class,” James begins. “And I think … well you know, I’m going to talk to her.” He walks down the steps and out the door. “Doesn't she have a boyfr-” before Davis can descend the driver's arm blocks him. “I’ve had enough of your shit, kid,” he says. “If you keep being obnoxious, I’m gonna find a way to make you pay for it.” James looks back, but he can't stay. Davis knows that he's gotta get to class. James does a little wave goodbye and Davis salutes him. “Are you even listening to me?” the bus driver seethes. “Yes, sir. Divine retribution, got it.” Davis ducks underneath his arm and exits the bus. James has already disappeared into the crowd.
I pass the bong to Ashley. She starts another bowl. She’s the transport and I provide the material. The little things that keep our friendship afloat. I look at the clock in her car. “It's 8:45,” I pick a piece of bagel out of my teeth. “So that's it, we officially missed first period,” Ashley tops it off. “They won't mark us, you know. It's a study.” “Yeah, but when's the last time we signed in? I heard they're changing the policy again. Do you still have the lighter?” I toss it to her. I don't get it. It's always her idea to pick me up so we can smoke before school, why now is she suddenly caring about attendance? “We're pretty girls, we can get out of it. I’m next,” I tap on the clock. “Are you sure it's not fast?” She shakes her head as she takes a snap. We're parked in the pond area a block or two from the school. It's our designated smoking spot. I like it, even at the end of fall it's pretty. I’m so engrossed that I don't realize her tip out the bowl and put it back in the cup holder. “I don't know if it's wise to keep up the activity, we should probably get going soon,” she starts up her car again. “Okay,” I say. She reverses and swings out of the lot. We lean into the silence and it's super weird. “Seth texted me last night,” I wait for her reaction. “Oh,” she grimaces. “What did you say?” “That I loved him.” Silence again. Ashley's trying to put together something well-meaning while understanding that I’ll probably ignore whatever she has to say. “Abbi, I’m not trying to tell you how to run your life, but …” Her expression is now quizzical. She's said what she is about to say a number of different ways all ready. She thinks and thinks and decides to say nothing. Good call, I would have screamed at her. Not because what she thinks about my situation isn't true, I’m just in a ‘screaming at people mood’ because of it. “I’m going to dye my hair again,” she changes the subject to avoid conflict. Classic Ash. “Oh yeah? What color this time?” “I don't know,” she checks her reflection in the rear view. “The red has faded out, maybe blue or pink this time.” “You should go with a softer pink,” I say. “Since you're a soft spring.” “Yeah, maybe.” We enter the school lot. “Listen, do you want to get together when I do it? Maybe you can dye your hair too.” “I don't know, I might be busy,” I say. “Seth might want to do something,” I pause for her to protest. “Okay,” she says. She parks and we get out.
I barrel into art class. I don't care if I reek, out of all the teachers I can tell Mrs. Stanley smokes the most. It would be hypocritical of her to care. It looks like I’m the first one. Weird. I check my phone. It's 8:45. Well, fuck. Looks like Ashley needs to fix her clock. Mrs. Stanley is at her desk. She looks at me knowingly. “Eager to create today, Abbi?” I just nod and sit at my desk. I’m really feeling it. I open up my precalc notebook and just start sketching. Birds, eyes, trees, whatever. Kids start coming in. Their chatter echoes around me, I try to focus on what I’m doing. Someone bumps into my table. I look up. It's this lanky blonde kid, I think his name is James. He presses his hands underneath the desk as he leans up to talk to me. “Eww!” He shouts. Some kids turn and laugh. I don't. I just stare at him. James goes red and sits next to the kid who pissed in a jar. Once an adequate amount of students are in the room, Mrs. Stanley starts her lesson slideshow. On the screen is a dirty urinal. “How many of you are familiar with this work by Marcel DuChamp?” she asks. At this point, Jason, the designated meathead jock, enters the room. “Sorry I’m late, Mrs. S,” he booms. He looks at the slide. “We building bathrooms today?” Mrs. Stanley glares at him. “Wouldn't you like that? Considering you spend all of your time in there.” “Whatever,” Jason brushes his mullet behind his ears. “No, not whatever. Would you like me to move you into the sophomore class with Davis? Believe it or not he's getting much better marks than you are getting in here.” Jason rolls his eyes and takes his place in the chair next to me. “Up to a little extra curricular activities before art, Abbi?” he motions a joint in his fingers. I scoff and go on my phone. There's another text from Seth.
sorry about last night
and
im reading it all right now that was fucked im sorry
I start to respond, but before I can Mrs. Stanley outstretches her hand. “Give me your phone, Miss Hagerty. I’m sick of giving you warnings.” I don't have the energy to fight, I just give it to her. “You can pick it up at the end of the day.” My jaw actually drops. Jason must have really set her off, she's not usually such a cunt to me. “Anyways, found art. What is it? Well, found art is the use of everyday objects to convey an altered meaning. It can be something you find on the street or something that once held value to you. For example, My Bed by Tracey Elim.” She pulls up a picture of a messy bed that looks suspiciously like my own. “So for your final unit of the semester, you will be making your own found art. I really want you to take this project a little more seriously than most of you have been taking this class. I’m giving you the privilege of picking your own partners, but I’d like to remind you to be thoughtful with your choice. This will be worth more for your grade.” I look around. I don't have any friends here. I toy around with the idea of asking Jason for convenience and he looks like he's about to pull that move. Behind me there's that James guy. He’s sheepishly looking at me. He seems kind of nice. Okay. I don't feel like getting up so I just turn around in my chair. “Hey James, wanna be partners?” He balks a bit and then smiles at me. “Yeah, totally,” He's beaming and it's somewhat endearing. Alex and I switch seats and now I’m next to him. “I’m gonna be real with you …” I begin. He stops and shifts a little. “I have no idea what we're supposed to be doing for this.” He regards me oddly. Like he's trying to piece me together. It doesn't bother me. “She said we have to bring in an object that's special to us and present it artistically basically,” he rubs his chin. Damn, I must be baked to hell. I didn't hear her saying that at all. “So got any stuffed animals we can cut up and make Lovecraftian monstrosities out of?” “I got a hamster cage, hold the hamster,” I say. It comes out kind of weird and I probably sound stupid, but he doesn't seem to care. “Let's make a fucking zoo.” “Perfect!” He’s kind of cute actually. In a way. Something about this feels fun. I realize the bell will ring soon. “So um,” I rip out a page of my precalc notebook, still fresh with my drawings. I scrawl out my number and push it to him. “Call me so we can figure out the project some more.” I pack up all my stuff and start to head out. I can feel him watching me and it's not that bad. “I sure will,” he says. Everything feels really groovy. There's a lightness now. I’m halfway out the door when I remember my phone. I can't believe that I just forgot about Seth. I think about begging for my phone, but I feel too above that. Still, something shakes the good feeling as the bell rings.

I was fortunate enough to have been able to see all three films in the theaters on their respective premiere dates. I remember the visual experience was unlike any other that I had ever seen. They were perfect, pure, and beauty incarnate. This was the case even before we had access to HD versions of the films. When the extended editions came out on DVD, I watched them over and over again, reliving the experience as often as I could manage it. But then there was a long period of several years where I simply didn’t have time to watch them due to having started college.
Then one day, after the blu ray format had already made an impact in the home video industry for several years, I finally got around to jumping on the blu ray bandwagon, got myself a very small HD tv, and got myself the Lord of the Rings extended editions of the films in the updated format. Although the magic and wonder was still there, it was the first time I had noted that the films had started to show their age just a bit more than I had realized; the most glaring feature being that everything had a sort of surreal green tint, up to and including all of the characters, which I assumed was the result of the light of the green screen reflecting off of the actors faces.
I didn’t learn until literally just the other week that the green tint wasn’t the way the films had originally looked. It was a glitch in the restoration process for the blu ray releases that resulted in a green tint throughout all three films. Ironically, this glitch is NOT present in the blu ray theatrical cuts of the films. In fact, despite the lack of the extended scenes, the theatrical blu ray remaster is, on a technical level, far visually superior to the extended.
If you see the scenes that the theatrical versions have in common, you can actually see a lot of the what green tint, and other color balance issues of the extended versions, has done to the integrity of the film; some scenes are washed out, some scenes are missing crisper detail, and you lose a lot of the fine details in some of the special effects.
The green tint was never corrected in subsequent HD releases; confusing considering most extended prints of blu raybfilms tend to have better remastering and editing corrections.
The problem is, now that I know it's there, I can't unsee it ever again.
When it was announced that not only was the Lord of the Rings extended editions going to be remastered in 4K, but that Peter Jackson himself was overseeing the project, Tolkien fans and cinephiles alike went absolutely nuts with excitement.
But then the 4K remaster was released, and right off the bat, the use of DNR was glaringly obvious. Everyone looked like they were posing for selfies on Instagram. There was even a scene where Gandalf’s staff kept disappearing because the DNR mistook it for digital noise. It also appeared to be an upscale of the blu ray rather than a fresh scan of the original film print. And being that it was an upscale of the blu ray extended edition, the restoration started with the green tint, then was color corrected to appear more like the correct colors of the theatrical cut. However, because it was not an exact color match, but an approximation, this resulted in some scenes being so bright and washed out that significant amounts of detail were lost. On top of this, an additional effect filter was used to make the visuals more consistent with the Hobbit trilogy; the newer, but less beloved prequel trilogy panned by critics and Tolkien fans alike. But lastly, and most insultingly, there are several scenes in which several of the little actors doubling for the Hobbit characters in wide shots, were digitally replaced with renderings of the main actors. In other words, Peter Jackson did a Star Wars to his films.
Unless Peter Jackson allows for someone else to release another edition with a new remaster, or does another one himself, but better this time around, the hope that the public will see a perfectly preserved version of the extended Lord of the Rings trilogy is utterly lost. That’s an absolute tragedy.
Though making new films is important, the primary benefit of 4K technology is its ability to preserve the fidelity of older films. It’s not just the preservation of art, but the preservation of culture. What Peter Jackson has done, if he doesn’t reverse it, is cultural vandalism. It's just like George Lucas; what he has done to his original trilogy is cultural vandalism. What every DNR-happy studio is doing to otherwise wonderful films, is cultural vandalism.
The fruit of knowledge is bitter indeed.

Hi all - strap in lol..
I (23M) had been seeing a girl (22F) for around 9 months and we became official just touching 7 months ago..
At the beginning, everything was pretty good and I was happy. Around March this year, her effort dramatcially decreased. There were a few red flags that I admittedly ignored such as a promiscuous past ( not necassarily a red flag in itself but she was pretty vocal about it which I'll get to ), me being her first boyfriend and from what I could gather, the first guy to treat her well.
For the duration of the 9 months, she didn't plan one single date, she did not get me anything for Valentines day or our 6 month anniversary, when I asked her to join me and my family for dinner for an important milestone in my life ( 1 year sober ) she did not make the effort to be there as she was " too tired " . I got her a nice photo of the two of us framed for our 6 months which she hadn't even bothered to unwrap up to the last time I saw her which was less than a week ago..
I planned every date, paid for 98% percent of them, planned and paid for two holidays which I wouldn't mind doing had she shown effort in other ways.. Like at the beginning, she would make the effort to call me every night which was more than enough for me to know she cared. I'm not a needy bloke, I didn't need gifts and to be wined and dined but something so simple as the phone calls was good for me, but that faded around February..
Things really started to look bleek around the time of our second Holiday which was the beginning of last month. She had been out drinking the night before and told me the next day she had a guy from her class pour liquour into her mouth which personally for me, was a boundary crossed that I foolishly ignored. Then, one of the nights on holiday, while drunk, she decided to show me a list she had kept in her notes app of all her past sexual partners and even went as far to tell me how big one of the guys dicks was (upon reflection I should've left her there and then).
Now, don't get me wrong, she was not a demon. She had many moments of showing affection and care, she bought me some nice clothes for Christmas and my birthday aswell as other small but thoughtful gifts and often used to keep my favorite drinks in the fridge for when I came over. But for the mostpart, the effort was just not there and would frequently go hours without snapping me back, and often times wouldn't start an actual verbal conversation ever and there wouldn't be one if I didn't start one..
I brought up the lack of effort to her 3 or 4 times and and told her, if she just wasn't into me it was fine and we could call it quits, but we needed to communicate. Each time she would cry, maintain that she loved me, she wanted me in her life and wanted to be with me. She is super focused on her studies and I told her I totally get it and that I don't expect to come first, and don't want much, but something so simple as the nightly phone call was enough for me to know she cared. Each time she told me she would try and do better but nothing ever changed.
So, this Sunday gone, I couldn't do it anymore and initiated a break up. Once she saw I was serious she kind of scrambled to make it mutual, but I inititated it and I don't think she had intented to finish with me any time soon. I told her nothing has changed and I don't see it changing, she told me she doesn't feel she can give me what I need (which is not very much) or deserve. She said she loves me still and probably always will. The last thing I said to her was, I will miss you, I am thankful for the times we shared, wished her the best of luck with her studies and the rest of her time in my country ( she's not from here) and goodbye. I have since entered a period of no contact with her.
I also don't believe there was another guy on the scene, she was never secretive with her phone and always left her location on, which I never checked as I found that to be unhealthy, but her wilingness to leave it on was fairly reassuring in that regard.
The reason I am conflicted is because, I don't believe she saw it ending and I do believe she had genuine feelings for me, but I couldn't allow myself be disrespected and taken for granted any longer for my own sanitys sake.
What I'm asking is, given it ended amicably, is it hopeless to think that she will realise what she lost and come back and make an effort, or is it dead in the water.. Afterall, even though I ended it, I am in love with her and am finding the no contact incredibly difficult although have no intention of breaking it.
I find it hard to believe she is able to let someone who did and cared so much for her go that easily, but am also aware life is cruel and unforgiving..
I'd really like some non biased opinions on this.. Thanks!
Edit: she has not yet taken down the photos of us together on Instagram if that counts for anything...