How to win escape the christmas room
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2017.10.18 20:31 Nympho_Ninja High-Quality Verified Foot Models
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2015.01.02 07:01 SirIsaacBrock Escape Rooms
Here's a place to collect and talk about escape rooms around the world!
2010.10.14 19:03 FatKidNoFriends Who Would Win?
If you love to imagine the planet-exploding battles of the fictional gods who will never be, taking pointless knowledge gathered from a life spent reading and gaming and swinging it like a gladiator's sword in discussions on reddit... then welcome home, my friend. You are indeed where you belong. Come join our discussions, post your own battles and kick some ass!
2024.05.17 10:28 StargazerTea Paranormal Stories: House of Mirrors pt. 2
Continued from part one.
In the mirror I saw a figure of the darkness next to the foot of my bed. I screamed, only for the figure to dash back inside my closet and close the doors behind it. To the naked eye, the doors seemed to roll back on their own, but because of the many mirrors inside my room, I could see the shadowy figure.
“What’s wrong?” my mom burst into my room not even four seconds later.
“J-j-just a nightmare?” I was uncertain if my imagination was too strong for my own good so I held back on the truth.
I wish I told her the truth. That wasn’t the last time I would see the figure in the mirror.
It happened again, about five years later. Yeah it didn’t happen right away. I wondered if the figure I saw was friendly and I simply scared it away for a while. That was my first mindset, but then I second guessed myself and simply thought maybe it was just my imagination playing with me.
At age 12, things started to become rocky with my parents. They fought over the same things, but they also fought over me. I had gone into the world of music to the point where I wanted to take up guitar, piano, and violin. My mom took one side of the stance where she didn’t believe that I could commit to any of them. My dad believed the opposite, fighting that I could do anything if I set my mind to it.
Again, conflict resided. My angry mother could still barge into my room if I didn’t lock the doors. She once found me writing, insisted on me showing her what I wrote, when I resisted she pulled it away from me and read my vampire fanfiction.
I was an angsty girl. Hence my writings were a bit suggestive at the time. My mom and my dad both read my work. My dad actually liked what I wrote aside from the fact it was about the supernatural. Of course, my mother again got mad since she’s the most religious in our family. She was, in a sense, a heretic.
Needless to say, since my family’s religion absolutely detests “spiritualistic and demonic” media, I got grounded. Also to clarify, yes this also meant I never read or watched the Harry Potter series, including the Twilight series. Although I don’t think I missed out on much with the Twilight series lol. Eventually I managed to rent a book that I got from my school’s library, called Hush, Hush, which laid in my backpack, tempting me to read it.
So there I was, no laptop and in my room. I didn’t really care since I had a guitar and a notebook. I still could find pleasure outside of my laptop, which of course my mother absolutely detested as well. Whenever she grounded me, she used to take away any kind of toy. Then, once she realized I could read on my own and was making up stories when I couldn’t read, she began to take books away. Punishments with my family wasn’t really a punishment, I could always find a way to entertain myself. Even if she took my notebooks away, I’d still end up daydreaming about something, even act out scenes I’d come up with in my head.
Now you can understand why I pushed off the incident with the figure in the mirror as a figment of my imagination. I had figured it was a draft, that the wheels and tracking were well lubricated with some kind of oil that makes it hard for them to stay in place.
Sitting on my bed at age 12, I leant back and closed my eyes. I had notebooks, several books, a keyboard for me to practice piano on, and a guitar. It wasn’t a big deal. (Yes I was a spoiled child. I’m owning up to this since I was the only girl among four boys- plus I was also 13 years younger than my youngest brother.) However I was so tired, that I decided on lazily daydreaming. Besides, I could always sneak my laptop back late at night.
As a devoted writer, I continued on imagining the story I began. I imagined what it would feel like to have fangs teasing the throat of the neck, how it would be to be kissed and then bitten by a vampire... my mind was rolling and it didn’t stop. I was a twelve year old girl going through puberty.
I told myself to stop and I decided to pull out the book, smiling at my little success. I went back to the page I left off on at the library earlier that day. I buried myself into the book and became sleepy. I nearly finished the book by the time I set the book aside and stupidly put it on my bedside table.
I passed out soon after. I don’t recall what kind of dream I had at first, all I know is that sometime later in the night, I woke up again, but I could not move my body at all. I looked around my room, which was now fully dark. I barely could recognize anything around me. The familiar outline of my vanity was gone, any silver reflection was gone, I did not see a single mirror, so I knew I was no longer in my room anymore.
A slight humming noise was around me, the room I was in lit up with a red flashing light. It felt like I was being pinned down by some kind of restraint system, so I looked down and noticed these short pale creatures crawling on top of me, towards my face. I felt a sharp sting in my leg, and I knew one of the creatures had bit me already.
It became to feel like sharp knives stabbing me all over my body, until five creatures met my face, their eyes sullen- beady- staring down at me with bloodied mouths and lunged at my neck, causing me to scream..The sound finally piercing through and I could hear myself breathing again, I could hear my screams and my frantic prayers escaping my lips.
Had my mom not come into my room and slapped me on my face, jolting me out of it- whatever it was- I would have seen more than I could bare. She saw the book and her anger brewed even more at me.
“Are you tempting the demons to attack you or something?” she fumed and took the book off of the table. She led me down to the entryway and opened the garage door. “Put it in there.”
I followed her command and put the book into the garage. I knew it wasn’t the book’s fault, but it was associated with “demunz” in her eyes, so I didn’t dare argue against her.
“Do you want to die? If you keep associating with demons, you know god will never forgive you. You won’t inherit everlasting life, only everlasting death. You know that right?!?” she yelled at me, had my dad been there that night- he would have stopped her from going that far. I suddenly missed him.
Her anger then died down after she ranted at me, once she recognized that I was still petrified. She at least brought me to, which made me thankful, but I also felt betrayed. She was supposed to protect me, but all she cared about was the idea of force feeding me her belief system. All she cared about was telling me I was wrong.
“I’m-” she had begun, and I just looked away from her and saw a shadow in my mirror again, standing behind my mom. It didn’t feel as eerie anymore. It felt almost comforting to see it, it moved from my mom to me. A figure of it’s arm wrapped around my shoulder, and I felt the cool breeze raise goosebumps at it’s touch.
“Do you want me to sleep with you tonight?” her voice lowered.
“I’ll sleep alone,” I remarked, still stung with the hurt from her hurtful remark.
She looked hurt for a second, but then returned to her normal frown. “I’ll sleep in the little entertainment room next to you, if you need me just yell out again.”
“Fine,” I simply just pulled my blankets over me again, waited for her to leave, then cried into my pillow.
My mom left, not seeing the dark figure in the mirror and went into the adjacent room. At her departure, the darkness came into my bed, the eerie feeling no longer there and it snuggled against me.
Shh. It hushed me and brushed my hair.
I didn’t question it. I had been afraid of it for so long, but with the sweet affection it gave me- the affection I desired and longed for from both of my parents.
The falling tears turned into a silent sob, my body shook against the bed, little breathy whimpers muffled by my pillow.
Shh, it repeated until I fell asleep again.
When morning came, I woke up with a sore neck and I was irritated with my mom. I remembered what happened and then I snuck out to my laptop and searched up what had happened to me. I learned it was sleep paralysis and figured maybe my imagination went too far with the vampire thing. I was stiff, my body was so sore and I saw my closet doors closed.
Again, I had felt as if my imagination had made it up. I knew the kind of comfort it gave me is what I desperately longed for. It gave me what my family didn’t, and I hated myself. I thought it was a figment of my imagination since it knew all the things I wanted. That is, until something else showed up. The shadow figure in the mirrors was just the start of it all.
submitted by StargazerTea to Ghoststories [link] [comments]
In the mirror I saw a figure of the darkness next to the foot of my bed. I screamed, only for the figure to dash back inside my closet and close the doors behind it. To the naked eye, the doors seemed to roll back on their own, but because of the many mirrors inside my room, I could see the shadowy figure.
“What’s wrong?” my mom burst into my room not even four seconds later.
“J-j-just a nightmare?” I was uncertain if my imagination was too strong for my own good so I held back on the truth.
I wish I told her the truth. That wasn’t the last time I would see the figure in the mirror.
It happened again, about five years later. Yeah it didn’t happen right away. I wondered if the figure I saw was friendly and I simply scared it away for a while. That was my first mindset, but then I second guessed myself and simply thought maybe it was just my imagination playing with me.
At age 12, things started to become rocky with my parents. They fought over the same things, but they also fought over me. I had gone into the world of music to the point where I wanted to take up guitar, piano, and violin. My mom took one side of the stance where she didn’t believe that I could commit to any of them. My dad believed the opposite, fighting that I could do anything if I set my mind to it.
Again, conflict resided. My angry mother could still barge into my room if I didn’t lock the doors. She once found me writing, insisted on me showing her what I wrote, when I resisted she pulled it away from me and read my vampire fanfiction.
I was an angsty girl. Hence my writings were a bit suggestive at the time. My mom and my dad both read my work. My dad actually liked what I wrote aside from the fact it was about the supernatural. Of course, my mother again got mad since she’s the most religious in our family. She was, in a sense, a heretic.
Needless to say, since my family’s religion absolutely detests “spiritualistic and demonic” media, I got grounded. Also to clarify, yes this also meant I never read or watched the Harry Potter series, including the Twilight series. Although I don’t think I missed out on much with the Twilight series lol. Eventually I managed to rent a book that I got from my school’s library, called Hush, Hush, which laid in my backpack, tempting me to read it.
So there I was, no laptop and in my room. I didn’t really care since I had a guitar and a notebook. I still could find pleasure outside of my laptop, which of course my mother absolutely detested as well. Whenever she grounded me, she used to take away any kind of toy. Then, once she realized I could read on my own and was making up stories when I couldn’t read, she began to take books away. Punishments with my family wasn’t really a punishment, I could always find a way to entertain myself. Even if she took my notebooks away, I’d still end up daydreaming about something, even act out scenes I’d come up with in my head.
Now you can understand why I pushed off the incident with the figure in the mirror as a figment of my imagination. I had figured it was a draft, that the wheels and tracking were well lubricated with some kind of oil that makes it hard for them to stay in place.
Sitting on my bed at age 12, I leant back and closed my eyes. I had notebooks, several books, a keyboard for me to practice piano on, and a guitar. It wasn’t a big deal. (Yes I was a spoiled child. I’m owning up to this since I was the only girl among four boys- plus I was also 13 years younger than my youngest brother.) However I was so tired, that I decided on lazily daydreaming. Besides, I could always sneak my laptop back late at night.
As a devoted writer, I continued on imagining the story I began. I imagined what it would feel like to have fangs teasing the throat of the neck, how it would be to be kissed and then bitten by a vampire... my mind was rolling and it didn’t stop. I was a twelve year old girl going through puberty.
I told myself to stop and I decided to pull out the book, smiling at my little success. I went back to the page I left off on at the library earlier that day. I buried myself into the book and became sleepy. I nearly finished the book by the time I set the book aside and stupidly put it on my bedside table.
I passed out soon after. I don’t recall what kind of dream I had at first, all I know is that sometime later in the night, I woke up again, but I could not move my body at all. I looked around my room, which was now fully dark. I barely could recognize anything around me. The familiar outline of my vanity was gone, any silver reflection was gone, I did not see a single mirror, so I knew I was no longer in my room anymore.
A slight humming noise was around me, the room I was in lit up with a red flashing light. It felt like I was being pinned down by some kind of restraint system, so I looked down and noticed these short pale creatures crawling on top of me, towards my face. I felt a sharp sting in my leg, and I knew one of the creatures had bit me already.
It became to feel like sharp knives stabbing me all over my body, until five creatures met my face, their eyes sullen- beady- staring down at me with bloodied mouths and lunged at my neck, causing me to scream..The sound finally piercing through and I could hear myself breathing again, I could hear my screams and my frantic prayers escaping my lips.
Had my mom not come into my room and slapped me on my face, jolting me out of it- whatever it was- I would have seen more than I could bare. She saw the book and her anger brewed even more at me.
“Are you tempting the demons to attack you or something?” she fumed and took the book off of the table. She led me down to the entryway and opened the garage door. “Put it in there.”
I followed her command and put the book into the garage. I knew it wasn’t the book’s fault, but it was associated with “demunz” in her eyes, so I didn’t dare argue against her.
“Do you want to die? If you keep associating with demons, you know god will never forgive you. You won’t inherit everlasting life, only everlasting death. You know that right?!?” she yelled at me, had my dad been there that night- he would have stopped her from going that far. I suddenly missed him.
Her anger then died down after she ranted at me, once she recognized that I was still petrified. She at least brought me to, which made me thankful, but I also felt betrayed. She was supposed to protect me, but all she cared about was the idea of force feeding me her belief system. All she cared about was telling me I was wrong.
“I’m-” she had begun, and I just looked away from her and saw a shadow in my mirror again, standing behind my mom. It didn’t feel as eerie anymore. It felt almost comforting to see it, it moved from my mom to me. A figure of it’s arm wrapped around my shoulder, and I felt the cool breeze raise goosebumps at it’s touch.
“Do you want me to sleep with you tonight?” her voice lowered.
“I’ll sleep alone,” I remarked, still stung with the hurt from her hurtful remark.
She looked hurt for a second, but then returned to her normal frown. “I’ll sleep in the little entertainment room next to you, if you need me just yell out again.”
“Fine,” I simply just pulled my blankets over me again, waited for her to leave, then cried into my pillow.
My mom left, not seeing the dark figure in the mirror and went into the adjacent room. At her departure, the darkness came into my bed, the eerie feeling no longer there and it snuggled against me.
Shh. It hushed me and brushed my hair.
I didn’t question it. I had been afraid of it for so long, but with the sweet affection it gave me- the affection I desired and longed for from both of my parents.
The falling tears turned into a silent sob, my body shook against the bed, little breathy whimpers muffled by my pillow.
Shh, it repeated until I fell asleep again.
When morning came, I woke up with a sore neck and I was irritated with my mom. I remembered what happened and then I snuck out to my laptop and searched up what had happened to me. I learned it was sleep paralysis and figured maybe my imagination went too far with the vampire thing. I was stiff, my body was so sore and I saw my closet doors closed.
Again, I had felt as if my imagination had made it up. I knew the kind of comfort it gave me is what I desperately longed for. It gave me what my family didn’t, and I hated myself. I thought it was a figment of my imagination since it knew all the things I wanted. That is, until something else showed up. The shadow figure in the mirrors was just the start of it all.
2024.05.17 10:25 Possible_Length_4638 The fall
How did I end up here? How am I gonna escape it? For the last 3 years I have been falling to new depths,overe these years I have seen myself collapse to a point I can't bear, yet I think there's more to come. In this time, I've managed to destroy all the potential that I had, failing myself and everyone who had hopes on me. This began at the end of the 9th class, where I was losing my interest in studying, but somehow I managed to study, I wasn't good in language, but was pretty good in science and math, so I did good in those subjects, the 10th class went in lockdown, and I didn't study much, but was still doing math and science as I liked it. But it was apparent that something wasn't right, I was slowly losing interest.The 10th went with pretty good marks, but I knew that if it goes like that it's not gonna end well. I was trying new things to regain myself, motivation, practice, exercise etc, anything that would bring back my interest. Everything worked, but didn't last. And it did a lot of damage in the upcoming years. The 11th was rough, I went to a new school, only to realise it was a mistake, they dint teach well while take good record of attendance, so I can't even stay back and study on my own. So i had to go to school , then coaching and come back exausted. This went on and hampered my results a lot, I went below average. But I still had hopes of recovering. Meanwhile I was getting worried what's happening inside me, I had completely lost focus on studies, I didn't know what's going on, it felt like I was in class for the sake of it, doing lectures and taking notes. I knew it wasn't good and it would completely derail me from track. But I couldn't help it, every effort I gave, it didn't last, would work for a few days and it went to the same state. And then the 12th came to an end. I realised I hadn't studied the whole year, I panicked and did whatever I could to prevent the boat form sinking. But it was in vain too. I got poor marks in 12th boards. The nightmare had come true. But my parents were supportive, gave me another chance. I started fresh, full of energy, but it ended up in the same manner. I have wasted this year too. Bad marks while knowing I wasn't studying enough. But I couldn't do anything about it, every effort I gave in the whole year had been in vain.
So what has happened to me? Well for the past years I have completely lost interest in anything. It started with studies, now it's with everything. I don't like to go out, I can't enjoy anything, playing a videogame also feels like a chore, I've even lost interest in social media. I just can't get myself into the state where I can work towards my goals.ive been living in a brain fog for 3 years.my mind doesn't work right,everytime I try to concentrate on something, my mind strays away. I can't even focus on a movie for 5 minutes. I can't even watch my favourite movies. They are all downloaded in my pc, but I haven't watched any of them. I don't know if it's laziness or something else. All these years I've tried to get on track, only to get even more stray to the path. So many times have I tried to correct it, each time I end up frustrated. Can't imagine the times I went to sleep hoping I won't see the next day, as it was hard for me to see what I had become. I have cried to myself countless of times about it, keeping everything to myself. For who's gonna listen. The people who actually I thought should have listened have a different mindset. They just can't understand it. I haven't been able to understand my parents, what do the want, sometimes it feels like thay care about me, sometimes I feel like I'm just a project. They don't question anything I demand. They don't keep track of the money they give me. So it pains even more that I'm not able to deliver what they expect. But they also don't try to understand the situation I'm in. Till the mid of the 12th these things had affected me to a point, I had self esteem issues. My mind started carving an image of me that I was worthless. It would pick flaws in me and start telling me that I'm shit. It could pick any bad situation that happened to me and feed me with the message that you deserve it, you are a complete loser and nobody likes you. This just grew day by day. I have spent nights without sleep because the thoughts would keep coming to haunt me. It had given me a complete paralysis. I remember I once spent 4 days without eating anything, just lying down, unable to do anything. As if this was not enough, I suddenly realised I was losing hair. I already had a pretty bad self esteem, and this just boosted my insecurities. And just like that, I got body dysmorphia. I couldn't see me in the mirror. Usually I didn't see the mirror because I didn't give a damn about someone judging me. But now I don't see the mirror because I started hating on my appearance. And since my mind was already picking negatives, it found a good place to give me a blow. For the next 3 months, it would always pick on me, giving me thoughts about how I'm ugly, and I'm gonna end up alone. And it went like that. Sometimes the thoughts were so intense that it gave me literal headaches. I had to workout at 2 am just so that I could distract myself. Many days I also had to punch the walls till my hands went numb. Because the physical pain was more bearable than what was going in my mind. I didn't want to tell that to my parents, thinking they might not be able to handle it. Bit I wanted to give a hint that I wasn't fine. I sometimes told mom that I wasn't feeling good. You know what's the reply, keep yourself busy, study day and night and you will feel good. It angers me, here I am not able to handle anything and they only care about my studies. But I didn't want to lash out. I can't say everything to them. How would they react when I tell that I don't want to live anymore, when I feel like death is better than this downfall. How can I tell that sometimes when I'm cutting the vegetables I have to move away for sometime because I feel like stabbing myself to death. Or when I pick the razor to shave I feel like cutting the veins, or before sleeping I feel like gulping down the whole file of those finestaride tablets which I bought for hairfall but I had to quit because they were too powerfull. But I tried to hint them again, this time I just expressed my worry about losing my hair. They didn't pay much attention. The second time I tried, I got shouted at by dad. He told to stop thinking about it and to focus on studies. And on that day, I just stopped trying. I felt like I didn't matter, all that mattered was my academics and career. From that day, the phone calls from them felt like a formality. I didn't want to talk to them. I didn't want to go home on holidays, or occassions. My own home felt like a trap. I felt more safe alone in my room. Once I thought of the result is all the need, I'm up for it. I had to complete a chapter on centre of mass and collision. I was frustrated, not to mention that I got taunted by dad on the call a few minutes ago, I finished the whole chapter, 15 lectures, each of more than an hour, in one sitting. After finishing I could feel myself, my vision wasn't right, I was feeling dizzy. But I thought if I study in this manner, I might get good results, forget about my health, it wasn't my concern nor do I think my parents concern about it. But what happened, next day I went back to my old cycle of doing nothing. At this point, I was totally broken, but I couldn't just give up because ther was expectations on me and a lot of money was invested on me. I just cared about my results, stopped thinking about my own well being. But I couldn't do anything. I had failed to deliver in my drop year too. Facing all of this with loneliness with as the cherry on top. For all this time I had a deep loneliness in me. I just wanted someone by my side, who would listen to me, while I had none. But I also can't be around someone, I feel safe alone. So I'm with a mixed situation of being lonely while also wanting to be alone. At this point, I just want an end. Either the end of this situation or the end of life, anything would make me happy. The latter used to scare me because of that feeling that my parents would not be able to bear it. But after all this I don't even think they care, all they would be upset that I died a loser. I've defended them in my mind for too long because I never got a beating from them, I was raised in a good environment,never saw them fight. I felt like I was blessed to be born in this family. I ate up all the taunts and sarcasm from them thinking they just want a better life for me. But now I feel like a commodity being used for their own interests.
submitted by Possible_Length_4638 to JEENEETards [link] [comments]
So what has happened to me? Well for the past years I have completely lost interest in anything. It started with studies, now it's with everything. I don't like to go out, I can't enjoy anything, playing a videogame also feels like a chore, I've even lost interest in social media. I just can't get myself into the state where I can work towards my goals.ive been living in a brain fog for 3 years.my mind doesn't work right,everytime I try to concentrate on something, my mind strays away. I can't even focus on a movie for 5 minutes. I can't even watch my favourite movies. They are all downloaded in my pc, but I haven't watched any of them. I don't know if it's laziness or something else. All these years I've tried to get on track, only to get even more stray to the path. So many times have I tried to correct it, each time I end up frustrated. Can't imagine the times I went to sleep hoping I won't see the next day, as it was hard for me to see what I had become. I have cried to myself countless of times about it, keeping everything to myself. For who's gonna listen. The people who actually I thought should have listened have a different mindset. They just can't understand it. I haven't been able to understand my parents, what do the want, sometimes it feels like thay care about me, sometimes I feel like I'm just a project. They don't question anything I demand. They don't keep track of the money they give me. So it pains even more that I'm not able to deliver what they expect. But they also don't try to understand the situation I'm in. Till the mid of the 12th these things had affected me to a point, I had self esteem issues. My mind started carving an image of me that I was worthless. It would pick flaws in me and start telling me that I'm shit. It could pick any bad situation that happened to me and feed me with the message that you deserve it, you are a complete loser and nobody likes you. This just grew day by day. I have spent nights without sleep because the thoughts would keep coming to haunt me. It had given me a complete paralysis. I remember I once spent 4 days without eating anything, just lying down, unable to do anything. As if this was not enough, I suddenly realised I was losing hair. I already had a pretty bad self esteem, and this just boosted my insecurities. And just like that, I got body dysmorphia. I couldn't see me in the mirror. Usually I didn't see the mirror because I didn't give a damn about someone judging me. But now I don't see the mirror because I started hating on my appearance. And since my mind was already picking negatives, it found a good place to give me a blow. For the next 3 months, it would always pick on me, giving me thoughts about how I'm ugly, and I'm gonna end up alone. And it went like that. Sometimes the thoughts were so intense that it gave me literal headaches. I had to workout at 2 am just so that I could distract myself. Many days I also had to punch the walls till my hands went numb. Because the physical pain was more bearable than what was going in my mind. I didn't want to tell that to my parents, thinking they might not be able to handle it. Bit I wanted to give a hint that I wasn't fine. I sometimes told mom that I wasn't feeling good. You know what's the reply, keep yourself busy, study day and night and you will feel good. It angers me, here I am not able to handle anything and they only care about my studies. But I didn't want to lash out. I can't say everything to them. How would they react when I tell that I don't want to live anymore, when I feel like death is better than this downfall. How can I tell that sometimes when I'm cutting the vegetables I have to move away for sometime because I feel like stabbing myself to death. Or when I pick the razor to shave I feel like cutting the veins, or before sleeping I feel like gulping down the whole file of those finestaride tablets which I bought for hairfall but I had to quit because they were too powerfull. But I tried to hint them again, this time I just expressed my worry about losing my hair. They didn't pay much attention. The second time I tried, I got shouted at by dad. He told to stop thinking about it and to focus on studies. And on that day, I just stopped trying. I felt like I didn't matter, all that mattered was my academics and career. From that day, the phone calls from them felt like a formality. I didn't want to talk to them. I didn't want to go home on holidays, or occassions. My own home felt like a trap. I felt more safe alone in my room. Once I thought of the result is all the need, I'm up for it. I had to complete a chapter on centre of mass and collision. I was frustrated, not to mention that I got taunted by dad on the call a few minutes ago, I finished the whole chapter, 15 lectures, each of more than an hour, in one sitting. After finishing I could feel myself, my vision wasn't right, I was feeling dizzy. But I thought if I study in this manner, I might get good results, forget about my health, it wasn't my concern nor do I think my parents concern about it. But what happened, next day I went back to my old cycle of doing nothing. At this point, I was totally broken, but I couldn't just give up because ther was expectations on me and a lot of money was invested on me. I just cared about my results, stopped thinking about my own well being. But I couldn't do anything. I had failed to deliver in my drop year too. Facing all of this with loneliness with as the cherry on top. For all this time I had a deep loneliness in me. I just wanted someone by my side, who would listen to me, while I had none. But I also can't be around someone, I feel safe alone. So I'm with a mixed situation of being lonely while also wanting to be alone. At this point, I just want an end. Either the end of this situation or the end of life, anything would make me happy. The latter used to scare me because of that feeling that my parents would not be able to bear it. But after all this I don't even think they care, all they would be upset that I died a loser. I've defended them in my mind for too long because I never got a beating from them, I was raised in a good environment,never saw them fight. I felt like I was blessed to be born in this family. I ate up all the taunts and sarcasm from them thinking they just want a better life for me. But now I feel like a commodity being used for their own interests.
2024.05.17 10:05 MYSFITS_OFFICIAL Children of Sol 59
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Anglestan
Augustus 5, 1923
Facility 9, Mancheston
Colonel Jacobs
His hands flew through the folders General Jorgenson and Colonel Thatcher had. There were dozens of them, stacked upon each other all filed in alphabetical order. It had only been a few days since he had woken up from his coma and visited his home— now his mother’s grave. He clenched his fists at the thought. The grief and rage threatened to bubble and spill over once again. He took a deep breath and dragged out the exhale, almost to the point where he had emptied out his lungs.
He was the only one with clearance, and so he couldn’t disclose any of what he learned with his team. They would simply have to trust him and his judgment. Which he was sure they would do. His hands went over one of the folders skimming through it. There were multiple secret projects, but the ones with the most notes were Project S.T.A.R, Project L.U.N.A.R.I, Project R.E.V.I.V.E, Project D.A.W.N, and Project T.E.M.P.L.A.R.
The colonel decided to start with the most notes and papers. Project D.A.W.N.
He skimmed through the notes, reading through some of the details and highlighted words. Project D.A.W.N, the espionage project Thatcher had started placed two spies in Verlin who were to report directly to a Crescent general named Sienna Moretti who was apparently on humanity’s side.
So I was right. There was an espionage element. With the recent attacks and Thatcher’s death, however, it’s safe to assume that it had somehow failed. Either they got found out or they betrayed us. Both seem very likely, but if they were found out, it would be possible that they had died.
He read through all of it before setting the folder down. There were no new notes recently. He sighed and assumed that Project DAWN was a failure. Whether or not the agents were still alive and well, it was too risky to check if they had been compromised. It was better to assume that they had been and cut all contact. The only way to find out now was to go there himself and check. I can’t contact them again. There’s no telling if it would still be Moretti or the agents who would see my messages. It’s a big risk, and judging by the state of things, best to assume it failed.
He picked up another folder. This one had the label ‘under development’ on the folder. Project Templar. He opened the folder and was instantly met with a blueprint and drawings of a massive bipedal machine. It looked humanoid with strange proportions and was supposed to be standing at an impressive 30 meters, or 100 feet. The Titanic Engine Mech for Personal Land Assault and Reconnaissance.
It was apparently a joint project with the Church of Sol, utilizing new and advanced technologies he hadn’t heard of. A 203mm Gatling cannon on one arm, while the other had three different weapons. A massive firestarter that utilized a new type of fuel mixture that could theoretically spew flames a kilometer away using a high-pressure nozzle. The fuel was ignited using an electrical spark. The second weapon was a high-powered light weapon that fired a single powerful beam of focused light that was even further amplified by layers of focusing lenses that could increase its output several times. Its third weapon was… a dust domina?
Mark read through the specifications of the so-called ‘sand cannon’ weapon. It was a massive cannon that accelerated tiny particles several times. Each particle was to be electrically charged, and it would travel at immense speeds. Near impossible speeds. The resulting impact of a microscopic particle at such speeds would be enough to form a small crater and punch through armor like it was nothing. This weapon would fire multiple at the same time, which could literally eat away at anything on the opposing end.
In terms of secondary weapons, the titan had two missile launch chambers in front of its shoulder each containing about 40 missiles, and two massive howitzer cannons on top of it. Both are 800mm in caliber. It had massive stumpy legs that served as bunkers for a small platoon on each leg. Each leg had machine dominas and 155mm cannons. Its chassis held two nuclear reactors inside providing for its power and weaponry. Its armor was the thickest and most ridiculous he’d ever read. Two meters of heavy steel armor.
How far are we in terms of technology? This thing looks like it came out of an H.G. Wells sci-fi novel. He thought, shaking his head. It was over the top, but there was no denying its combat capabilities. If it was already under-developed then it must be the first prototype. This has already been approved. Guess I better see it for myself later and check how it's coming along. Construction apparently started just a few months before the invasion.
Next was project L.U.N.A.R.I. It was a project involving Six. “Huh,” he said, continuing to read on.
The Light Undone: Nocturnal’s Adaptive Resistance Initiative. As he read further, his eyes widened. The reason why Six was so special wasn’t just because of her immunity to all strigoi weaknesses, but because of her impressive ability to turn any true born strigoi like her. She could transfer her strain like any other strigoi and transform them into a version of hers. It however only seemed to work for naturally born strigoi. The new species of ‘half-breeds’ were called ‘Blessed Children’ as Thatcher had coined in the folder.
The plan was to turn all willing true-born hemolite strigoi into these blessed children. Able to withstand the sun. Immune to silver. Free from the dependency on blood. They could remove all the weaknesses of the strigoi and after the war— make it possible to integrate them into society as normal citizens living on the surface. The project folder also made mentions of a city-wide draft in Dante and highlighted the possibility of turning all Dantenite true born strigoi into these blessed children and renaming them as ‘Lunari’. A mix of the dark and the light. The light of Sol reflected in the children of the night.
“Thatcher, what the fuck have you been up to…” Mark whispered to himself.
While it was true that it could help in the war effort by utilizing Six and the dantenite population, it would also invite some unforeseen problems and consequences. Would humanity be okay with the Lunari? Would the world even be ready for them? Strigoi who were immune to the sun. They wouldn’t be impossible to kill, but they would be immensely more powerful if we were to take away their inherent weaknesses. This is a gamble. Its gain would only be seen during the war period, but its unintended effects on society could be catastrophic.
He frowned, setting the folder down. It was obviously Thatcher’s main plan; seeing as all her moves could be traced to the path of the eventual completion of this project. It seemed dangerous in the long run, but the duskwalkers and dantenites had been monumental in the war effort. Maybe it was the time the world started to accept them more. Isolation and segregation was definitely not the way to disperse fears and foster understanding.
If Thatcher thinks this is the next step forward… then I’ll put my faith in her plans.
Next up was Project S.T.A.R, or the Superior Tech and Adaptive Resistance. An upgrade to the current hemolite weapons and gear by using new researched studies. The Starfire Pattern Domina. The SFD-23 This thing features a new loading system and magazine, ditching the rotating cylinder most domina used, or the rotating helix magazine design of the current hemolite standard BM-16 domina.
The new domina had its magazine like a box… a strange design but it was certainly easier to handle than the bulky cylinders the helical mags used. In terms of ergonomics, it was smoother and fit more. Its placement however was on top of the domina, just above the barrel. Most of the weapon were to be made of lightweight polymers and the barrel itself were to be crafted out of reinforced aluminium. In addition to that, it had a 10-inch bayonet attached to it.
There were other new things as well, such as the composition of the bullet. Looking at the conceptual cross-section designs, Mark read through its description and how it would function. A .308 cased telescoped bullet covered in a silver jacket with break-away petals surrounding the main body. Inside the jacket was a penetrator core that was to be made of depleted uranium. It had a small amount of incendiary compound and… powdered white phosphorus behind an explosive compound. The thin silver jacket would deform and trigger the explosive compound inside the body. It would blow up causing massive internal damage and release the incendiary materials into the body with the flecks of powdered white phosphorus. The penetrator core could still potentially keep going and hit a second target, or punch through heavily armored targets.
Part of the new Project S.T.A.R was overhauling the armor and gear of not just the Hemolites but the Hunters as well. Starfire Mk 1. Carapace Armor. Carapace? It looked like plates of steel covered in a rubberized coat. It was supposed to be slipped on over the original hemolite body armor. It added a spring-loaded wrist blade to the gauntlet, a thicker coat made of resistant materials, and added extra padding for the knees, shoulders, and elbows.
However, the hemolites weren’t the only ones mentioned in the folder. It was to serve the Hunters as well. “Hunters…” Mark said. “August’s group is part of this initiative too.” He flipped through some of the pages. There were blueprints and drawings of an armored suit. A mechanized suit even smaller and more compact than the jotunn units. The Mark 1 STR battlesuit. It was supposed to hug the wearer’s frame and increase their overall power. It was supposed to be built of titanium alloy and a heavy steel frame with composite armor. It had a cooling system, life support systems that could recycle bodily fluids, and an exoskeleton frame that could increase the wearer’s strength and speed.
However, the real eye-opener was Thatcher’s notes. She had been ranting about the new human evolution, and how the Hunters were the first of the ‘Solari’. She wanted to enhance human genetics and push past the peak of human ability to reach greater heights. Implants and restructuring of the anatomy to make it more efficient. Using the blood of the goddess herself. She must have lost it. These are the ramblings of a lunatic. At least… if she didn’t mention the goddess. Why was the goddess important here?
The writings ended with the words: “See Project R.E.V.I.V.E, for more details.”
Mark eyed the final folder. His hands shook as he reached out to take it. Flipping it open, his hands nearly dropped it in shock. The goddess Helena was alive. There were pictures of her naked form floating in a giant tube of fluid. There were more of Thatcher’s ramblings and excited rants about the possibilities of such a discovery. Resurrection, Enhancement, and Veneration: Implementation of Visionary Evolution.
The goddess is alive?! According to the file, she’s currently under the Cathedral of New Lundun. Not only that, but the file also detailed the extraterrestrial tech that lay beneath the cathedral. So the goddess is real and she’s— not really a goddess, but rather, a vampyr who created herself a human body to stand in the sun, and decided that it wants to be on humanity’s side… what the fuck.
Mark’s frown and confusion only increased as he read on. Thatcher’s notes seemed to nearly descend into madness as she had written about creating ‘the first hundred’, alluding to the 100 members of the Hunters division. Her plan was to revive the goddess, and with her help and expertise in genetics— use her DNA to transform the Hunters into demi-humans. Super soldiers. Literal children of the goddess Helena. They would then don the STR battlesuits, the first of the superhuman warriors to defend humanity. Solari.
Their lightning-speed advancement into technology was heralded by studying the alien tech, which deepened the understanding of physics and engineering. Nuclear technologies, chemical warfare, new material sciences, the mechs, and walkers, it was spearheaded by trying to reverse-engineer technology centuries ahead of our own… for the past hundred years. It wasn’t completely stolen, however. More or less borrowed ideas that had been made into our own with our own designs and implements. Still, the speed at which the Church and the military had deciphered such advancements all by themselves was… impressive to say the least.
Still, the fact that the goddess was alive, and could be brought back was big news. Checking the file for details, he found that the previous general, Jorgenson, had already approved this project. It was their next step as soon as they returned from New Amsterdam; which never happened.
If Helena was alive, then she could end this war swiftly, or at the very least help greatly like she once did during the War of Darkness. Having the goddess back would throw a massive wrench in the Crescent’s plans. It would certainly be something they wouldn’t expect. Not even I expected this, since many sources say that the goddess had already ascended to watch over humanity, while conspiracy theorists claim she had died in battle and that the Church was worshiping a corpse. This could be the trick up our sleeves that no one would even consider.
The colonel quickly got up from his seat and gathered the main files he had read. He placed them in a bag and rushed outside of his office in Facility 9. He went over to a nearby room and flicked the lights on. “We need to go,” he said. In an instant seven hemolite soldiers got up from whatever they were doing and instantly stood in line.
“Sir! Whatever you need of us, sir,” the group said in unison.
They were Hemo-1. His former squad members. He had taken up Louis' suggestion that they be his personal security detail. It was a shame that he had basically placed the best hemolite team out of commission, but after all he had been through he convinced himself that he could be just a little selfish. He didn’t want to lose any more friends. Not on his watch. Not while he was in an office, and they were out fighting.
“We’re going to New Lundun. Better pack up, it’s going to be a long night.”
“Mark,” Olivia said.
Jacobs turned to her direction and gave her a nod.
“Colonel, sir, may I ask where in New Lundun?”
“Liv, you don’t need to do that with me. Please. I give all of you special permission,” the colonel groaned. “It’s so weird. I mean, ‘captain’ was bad enough, but now you’re acting like I’m an authority figure.”
“You… are, though,” Emma shrugged.
“I’m your friend, and Liv I’m literally your partner. Unless you have some kind of weird fetish, save it for later.”
Olivia grinned, shaking her head. “Duly noted!” she chirped.
“That’s better,” Mark chuckled. “Now come on, we have a cathedral to visit.”
“Uhh, I’m not sure if you noticed, but we’re kinda… strigoi?!” Louis groaned. “I’d burn the moment I step in that place! Plus, it’s coated in silver! Anything I even touch will give me burns!”
“Oh come on, Lou. You have fucking gloves on. As long as you’re not a clumsy dumbass you’ll be fine… oh wait.’
“Uh huh, just sayin’ what I think, boss.”
The group headed out and Mark said something on his radio. He then sat on the ground, making his joints pop. The rest of the squad shrugged and followed his example, sitting down on the grass and waiting for… nothing. Charles and Zach looked at each other in confusion. “Uh, sir?” they asked. “Aren’t we supposed to be heading out and traveling right now?”
“Oh yeah, we’re just waiting.”
“Foooor…?”
The colonel gave them a smirk as a loud noise began to make itself known. A hummingbird transport appeared out of the distance and stopped right above them, slowly descending into the grass. “Being colonel has its perks,” Mark said with a smile. He stood up and hopped inside the hummingbird as soon as it landed. “Come on now! We’ve got work to do! Last one aboard buys everyone food later!”
Emma zipped in before Mark could even finish his sentence, followed by Olivia, Phineas, Charles, Zach, and then Louis, who sadly took too long to process what the colonel said, and lagged behind.
“Aw, man! Fuck this shit.”
“Rules are rules, Lou. Prepare your wallet later.” Mark grinned.
With a smile, the colonel pulled Olivia to his side, who blushed for a moment before shaking her head. “Take us up! New Lundun Cathedral! How long would it take?” he asked the pilot.
“About an hour and a half!” The pilot replied. “Less if you want to get there as soon as possible!”
“Take your time! The night’s still young.”
The hummingbird started to lift up, taking them into the air. The group settled down in their seats and watched outside the open. Mark opened up a bag inside the hummingbird and took out some ear muffs built for a strigoi. Extremely loud noises were damaging for a strigoi’s enhanced hearing, so the military started implementing ear muffs for them after complaints from early deployments of the hemolite squads.
The trip didn’t take too long. In only an hour and twenty minutes they had arrived at the safe zone of New Lundun, heading straight for the cathedral. The night mass had just ended and people were leaving the cathedral. “Looks like we made it in perfect time!” Mark smiled. They hovered for a few minutes in the air before eventually landing down right in front of the statue of Helena.
As soon as they landed, the colonel and his group left the hummingbird. Mark instructed the pilot to wait for them. He went straight for the cathedral with his group following behind. He entered inside, clearing his throat. “Hello?”
“Well this is surely unexpected,” an old man said, walking up to greet them.
“Great Grandfather Aurelius. It’s uh, an honor.”
“Please. The honor is mine… I see you’re the new colonel. Yes, I’ve heard the news,” he said. “Would you mind telling me your name, young man? As well as your companions, if they feel so. I usually don’t allow duskwalkers here but, I have nothing against them. I’ll make an exception for your group.”
“Thank you, Great Grandfather,” Mark replied. “I am Colonel Mark Jacobs. These are my friends and security detail. Olivia, Zach, Phineas, Charles, Emma, and Louis.”
“I see, and what brings you here?”
“Since Thatcher’s demise, I was given access to her research and project folders upon taking up the title. I’ve learned about what’s under your cathedral,” Mark cleared his throat. “Would it be alright if we could see it? I’d like to check it for myself. Of course, under your permission and guidance, Great Grandfather.”
The church head looked from Mark to his companions. He pulled a slight frown and hummed. “Do these companions of yours have the clearance? Surely, we wish to keep our secrets hidden,” he said. Mark nodded.
“They do not have clearance to know what is in Thatcher’s folders and her findings,” the colonel nodded. “However, I give them permission to accompany me, and should they discover things for themselves, then you have my word and my trust that I can keep them from spilling state secrets.”
The Great Grandfather gave a short pause before ultimately relenting. “Very well,” he let out a sigh. “Follow me.”
Aurelius walked behind the altar and pulled the same lever, which opened the same staircase leading underground, where Jorgenson and Thatcher had once gone. “Over here, colonel,” he said. “I do not know you completely yet, but this is a big deal of trust I am giving you. Perhaps you would be the one to do things that Thatcher could not have.”
Mark nodded, he and his group followed the Great Grandfather down the staircase. It led down to a massive underground facility, with numerous priests, researchers, and scientists. Libraries, records, instruments, and artifacts of old. It was a treasure trove of learning.
“So,” Aurelius cleared his throat. “What would you like to know about?”
“This isn’t all of it,” Mark said. “Thatcher mentioned a living, breathing, Helena.”
His group behind him let out a soft gasp, but they tried their best to hide their surprise.
“Hm,” the Great Grandfather nodded. “Perceptive young man aren’t you? Very well.”
They were then led into another room, behind a set of heavy blast doors. If the whole group were trying to hide their surprise then, now they could barely contain it. Even the colonel stared awestruck at the things he had seen. Despite the near-magical objects around them, the true shock was the massive starship at the end of the hallway. “It’s impressive isn’t it?” Aurelius said. “All of the goddess’ artifacts and items at our disposal, to use and learn from, to integrate into our own. This is why Anglestan is the most powerful nation in the UHT in terms of development. When it comes to industry, however, that would go to the UNA. But we share our secrets with them. All our advancements are handed to them first before any other nation.”
“This is all amazing, Great Grandfather,” Mark replied. “But this is not what I’m here for.”
“No, it’s not.” Aurelius nodded.
He led them to another room, one that was sterilized and sported advanced machinery. Things that Mark had never even seen. There were screens with luminous green texts that appeared in front of it. Large panels with numerous keys, levers, and dials. Graphs of all sorts and beeping monitors. In the center, was the very thing he had come all this way to confirm. A large cylinder filled with liquid, sporting tubes and pipes connecting to its base. Inside was a woman of large proportion. Four arms, two legs, and six wings. In her bare chest was a symbol of the sun that seemed to glow dimly.
“There she is, there’s you goddess.”
Neither Mark nor his group spoke a word. He walked up to it, eyeing the woman inside. It really is her. Down to the last details. Golden hair, six limbs, six folded wings, and she looks massive. Probably as big as her statue just outside the cathedral. This is it. The very goddess in the history books, the one spoken about in legends and the one worshiped in the Churches of Sol.
“Can we free her?” he said.
The Great Grandfather nearly choked on his spit upon hearing those words. “Free her?! That could kill her! We don’t even understand this technology, let alone control it!” he said pointing at the panels. “The machines you see here are the best and most advanced we have based on what we can reverse engineer, but even then, the consequences of tampering with its functions may be disastrous!”
“I understand, Great Grandfather,” Mark said. “But we are in a dire situation, and the goddess may be our hope of turning this around. Whatever secrets of her tech that you don’t understand, wouldn’t she be able to teach us directly? What good is she floating around in Sol knows what?”
“That is her miraculous healing fluid. She had already built this contraption centuries ago in case anything were to happen to her, that her body’s natural healing could not sustain,” Aurelius said. “During the War of Darkness, Helena was struck with a weapon so deadly, her very cells began to tear away. The Reaper. Dealt to her by Absolem the progenitor. Her flesh was peeling from her body, and she began to decay whilst she still breathed. She entered this contraption and gave strict instructions to the Great Grandfather at the time, not to interrupt the healing process. The machine that monitored her, however, began to fail over time.”
“So this… these screens and panels…”
“Is only what functions we can understand. We took it upon ourselves to rebuild and study it the best we could. What we have right now is only a cheap imitation of a technology we do not fully comprehend,” he said. “It took us decades to even figure out the fundamentals and create a working prototype of this machine. By some miracle, the goddess’ healing process had remained even while we replaced components of technology ahead of ours.”
“But you know how to free her, don’t you?”
“I… yes.”
“Great Grandfather Aurelius,” Mark began. “We can end this war. Imagine what we could do with the goddess fighting on our side. We could advance even further, we could finally end the bloodshed, and we can show humanity that there is still hope. Imagine how people all over the world would feel seeing as their goddess has returned.”
“I wish I had your enthusiasm,” Aurelius said. “But it is simply too risky. The Church’s duty is to protect Helena and her legacy. We keep her alive, literally and figuratively. She nearly died the last time she was involved in a war. Would you risk losing the goddess?”
“Would you risk humanity losing?”
The Great Grandfather fell silent, looking back at Helena floating inside the tube, then to the panels that controlled it. He frowned and let out a long sigh. “The goddess said that we should not interrupt it. That it would end as soon as it was finished. Maybe we should trust her words.”
Mark shook his head. “I don’t spot a single blemish on the goddess. Not a single scratch,” he argued. “You said it yourself that the machine had begun to fail and you replaced components. How would you know that the thing that’s supposed to wake her up was not tampered with? Think about it. What you may think is a useless piece may be integral to the whole machine. Or maybe your replacements were not up to the task. Just because nothing’s happened doesn’t mean its functions have remained whole.”
“Young man, we simply cannot gamble with the goddess’ life here.”
“Have you no faith? Great Grandfather?”
Aurelius stepped back in shock. Mark’s companions looked at each other, clearly surprised as well. “Mark… I don’t think we should keep arguing with—” Olivia tried to say.
“No,” the colonel said firmly, cutting her off. “Great Grandfather Aurelius, do you think that Helena will not be able to pull through if we wake her? How long has it been? A century? How much longer will we wait? She may be immortal but humans aren’t.”
“I'm sorry, but the chances of failure are too high. The probability of her—”
“I don’t care about the probability! Would you rather put your faith in a statistic?!” Mark raised his voice. “I lost my mother to this war! My friends! My job! My eye, and almost my life! I’ve put mine on the line out there! You don’t know what it’s like out there! Was my mother’s death just a probability too? Was she just a statistic to you?! That as long as the numbers are good, no matter how many are lost, we are ‘winning’?!”
“Mark—!”
“No, Liv! He needs to know what’s really going on out there!” he spat. “Great Grandfather, with all due respect, but you don’t have a damn clue what it’s like to be in the field. You’re a man of faith, aren’t you? Take a risk. Everyone else has.”
Aurelius stood there, dumbfounded. He bit the inside of his cheeks and clenched his fists. “For your insolence, I would have had you flogged and stripped of your rank,” he glared at the young colonel. However, his features slowly softened, letting out a soft sigh. “But I have never seen such conviction. Mighty is your faith.”
The Great Grandfather moved over to the panels and reached into his robe, pulling out from around his neck a key with the symbol of the sun. He inserted it into the machine and turned. A beep sounded, right before Aurelius pulled a lever. In an instant, the fluid inside the glass chamber began to drain out into the tubes under it. Slowly, the chamber emptied and all that was left was the nude form of the goddess sitting in the glass.
“Did it work?” Louis asked, stepping forward and looking at the woman.
Aurelius stayed silent, his hands shaking in anticipation. Mark moved toward the glass chamber, when suddenly, the glass opened up like a door, releasing a fragrant mist. They stood there, watching for a whole minute. Nothing. At first nothing. The Great Grandfather looked like he was about to break down. His knees shook as he covered his mouth, thinking that he was responsible for the death of Helena.
That was when… a soft sound was heard. Movement. Olivia immediately went over to Mark and stood in front of him. Ready to protect him should anything happen. Slowly, the goddess moved more, her arms inched to the side.
Then, her eyes opened.
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Anglestan
Augustus 5, 1923
Facility 9, Mancheston
Colonel Jacobs
His hands flew through the folders General Jorgenson and Colonel Thatcher had. There were dozens of them, stacked upon each other all filed in alphabetical order. It had only been a few days since he had woken up from his coma and visited his home— now his mother’s grave. He clenched his fists at the thought. The grief and rage threatened to bubble and spill over once again. He took a deep breath and dragged out the exhale, almost to the point where he had emptied out his lungs.
He was the only one with clearance, and so he couldn’t disclose any of what he learned with his team. They would simply have to trust him and his judgment. Which he was sure they would do. His hands went over one of the folders skimming through it. There were multiple secret projects, but the ones with the most notes were Project S.T.A.R, Project L.U.N.A.R.I, Project R.E.V.I.V.E, Project D.A.W.N, and Project T.E.M.P.L.A.R.
The colonel decided to start with the most notes and papers. Project D.A.W.N.
He skimmed through the notes, reading through some of the details and highlighted words. Project D.A.W.N, the espionage project Thatcher had started placed two spies in Verlin who were to report directly to a Crescent general named Sienna Moretti who was apparently on humanity’s side.
So I was right. There was an espionage element. With the recent attacks and Thatcher’s death, however, it’s safe to assume that it had somehow failed. Either they got found out or they betrayed us. Both seem very likely, but if they were found out, it would be possible that they had died.
He read through all of it before setting the folder down. There were no new notes recently. He sighed and assumed that Project DAWN was a failure. Whether or not the agents were still alive and well, it was too risky to check if they had been compromised. It was better to assume that they had been and cut all contact. The only way to find out now was to go there himself and check. I can’t contact them again. There’s no telling if it would still be Moretti or the agents who would see my messages. It’s a big risk, and judging by the state of things, best to assume it failed.
He picked up another folder. This one had the label ‘under development’ on the folder. Project Templar. He opened the folder and was instantly met with a blueprint and drawings of a massive bipedal machine. It looked humanoid with strange proportions and was supposed to be standing at an impressive 30 meters, or 100 feet. The Titanic Engine Mech for Personal Land Assault and Reconnaissance.
It was apparently a joint project with the Church of Sol, utilizing new and advanced technologies he hadn’t heard of. A 203mm Gatling cannon on one arm, while the other had three different weapons. A massive firestarter that utilized a new type of fuel mixture that could theoretically spew flames a kilometer away using a high-pressure nozzle. The fuel was ignited using an electrical spark. The second weapon was a high-powered light weapon that fired a single powerful beam of focused light that was even further amplified by layers of focusing lenses that could increase its output several times. Its third weapon was… a dust domina?
Mark read through the specifications of the so-called ‘sand cannon’ weapon. It was a massive cannon that accelerated tiny particles several times. Each particle was to be electrically charged, and it would travel at immense speeds. Near impossible speeds. The resulting impact of a microscopic particle at such speeds would be enough to form a small crater and punch through armor like it was nothing. This weapon would fire multiple at the same time, which could literally eat away at anything on the opposing end.
In terms of secondary weapons, the titan had two missile launch chambers in front of its shoulder each containing about 40 missiles, and two massive howitzer cannons on top of it. Both are 800mm in caliber. It had massive stumpy legs that served as bunkers for a small platoon on each leg. Each leg had machine dominas and 155mm cannons. Its chassis held two nuclear reactors inside providing for its power and weaponry. Its armor was the thickest and most ridiculous he’d ever read. Two meters of heavy steel armor.
How far are we in terms of technology? This thing looks like it came out of an H.G. Wells sci-fi novel. He thought, shaking his head. It was over the top, but there was no denying its combat capabilities. If it was already under-developed then it must be the first prototype. This has already been approved. Guess I better see it for myself later and check how it's coming along. Construction apparently started just a few months before the invasion.
Next was project L.U.N.A.R.I. It was a project involving Six. “Huh,” he said, continuing to read on.
The Light Undone: Nocturnal’s Adaptive Resistance Initiative. As he read further, his eyes widened. The reason why Six was so special wasn’t just because of her immunity to all strigoi weaknesses, but because of her impressive ability to turn any true born strigoi like her. She could transfer her strain like any other strigoi and transform them into a version of hers. It however only seemed to work for naturally born strigoi. The new species of ‘half-breeds’ were called ‘Blessed Children’ as Thatcher had coined in the folder.
The plan was to turn all willing true-born hemolite strigoi into these blessed children. Able to withstand the sun. Immune to silver. Free from the dependency on blood. They could remove all the weaknesses of the strigoi and after the war— make it possible to integrate them into society as normal citizens living on the surface. The project folder also made mentions of a city-wide draft in Dante and highlighted the possibility of turning all Dantenite true born strigoi into these blessed children and renaming them as ‘Lunari’. A mix of the dark and the light. The light of Sol reflected in the children of the night.
“Thatcher, what the fuck have you been up to…” Mark whispered to himself.
While it was true that it could help in the war effort by utilizing Six and the dantenite population, it would also invite some unforeseen problems and consequences. Would humanity be okay with the Lunari? Would the world even be ready for them? Strigoi who were immune to the sun. They wouldn’t be impossible to kill, but they would be immensely more powerful if we were to take away their inherent weaknesses. This is a gamble. Its gain would only be seen during the war period, but its unintended effects on society could be catastrophic.
He frowned, setting the folder down. It was obviously Thatcher’s main plan; seeing as all her moves could be traced to the path of the eventual completion of this project. It seemed dangerous in the long run, but the duskwalkers and dantenites had been monumental in the war effort. Maybe it was the time the world started to accept them more. Isolation and segregation was definitely not the way to disperse fears and foster understanding.
If Thatcher thinks this is the next step forward… then I’ll put my faith in her plans.
Next up was Project S.T.A.R, or the Superior Tech and Adaptive Resistance. An upgrade to the current hemolite weapons and gear by using new researched studies. The Starfire Pattern Domina. The SFD-23 This thing features a new loading system and magazine, ditching the rotating cylinder most domina used, or the rotating helix magazine design of the current hemolite standard BM-16 domina.
The new domina had its magazine like a box… a strange design but it was certainly easier to handle than the bulky cylinders the helical mags used. In terms of ergonomics, it was smoother and fit more. Its placement however was on top of the domina, just above the barrel. Most of the weapon were to be made of lightweight polymers and the barrel itself were to be crafted out of reinforced aluminium. In addition to that, it had a 10-inch bayonet attached to it.
There were other new things as well, such as the composition of the bullet. Looking at the conceptual cross-section designs, Mark read through its description and how it would function. A .308 cased telescoped bullet covered in a silver jacket with break-away petals surrounding the main body. Inside the jacket was a penetrator core that was to be made of depleted uranium. It had a small amount of incendiary compound and… powdered white phosphorus behind an explosive compound. The thin silver jacket would deform and trigger the explosive compound inside the body. It would blow up causing massive internal damage and release the incendiary materials into the body with the flecks of powdered white phosphorus. The penetrator core could still potentially keep going and hit a second target, or punch through heavily armored targets.
Part of the new Project S.T.A.R was overhauling the armor and gear of not just the Hemolites but the Hunters as well. Starfire Mk 1. Carapace Armor. Carapace? It looked like plates of steel covered in a rubberized coat. It was supposed to be slipped on over the original hemolite body armor. It added a spring-loaded wrist blade to the gauntlet, a thicker coat made of resistant materials, and added extra padding for the knees, shoulders, and elbows.
However, the hemolites weren’t the only ones mentioned in the folder. It was to serve the Hunters as well. “Hunters…” Mark said. “August’s group is part of this initiative too.” He flipped through some of the pages. There were blueprints and drawings of an armored suit. A mechanized suit even smaller and more compact than the jotunn units. The Mark 1 STR battlesuit. It was supposed to hug the wearer’s frame and increase their overall power. It was supposed to be built of titanium alloy and a heavy steel frame with composite armor. It had a cooling system, life support systems that could recycle bodily fluids, and an exoskeleton frame that could increase the wearer’s strength and speed.
However, the real eye-opener was Thatcher’s notes. She had been ranting about the new human evolution, and how the Hunters were the first of the ‘Solari’. She wanted to enhance human genetics and push past the peak of human ability to reach greater heights. Implants and restructuring of the anatomy to make it more efficient. Using the blood of the goddess herself. She must have lost it. These are the ramblings of a lunatic. At least… if she didn’t mention the goddess. Why was the goddess important here?
The writings ended with the words: “See Project R.E.V.I.V.E, for more details.”
Mark eyed the final folder. His hands shook as he reached out to take it. Flipping it open, his hands nearly dropped it in shock. The goddess Helena was alive. There were pictures of her naked form floating in a giant tube of fluid. There were more of Thatcher’s ramblings and excited rants about the possibilities of such a discovery. Resurrection, Enhancement, and Veneration: Implementation of Visionary Evolution.
The goddess is alive?! According to the file, she’s currently under the Cathedral of New Lundun. Not only that, but the file also detailed the extraterrestrial tech that lay beneath the cathedral. So the goddess is real and she’s— not really a goddess, but rather, a vampyr who created herself a human body to stand in the sun, and decided that it wants to be on humanity’s side… what the fuck.
Mark’s frown and confusion only increased as he read on. Thatcher’s notes seemed to nearly descend into madness as she had written about creating ‘the first hundred’, alluding to the 100 members of the Hunters division. Her plan was to revive the goddess, and with her help and expertise in genetics— use her DNA to transform the Hunters into demi-humans. Super soldiers. Literal children of the goddess Helena. They would then don the STR battlesuits, the first of the superhuman warriors to defend humanity. Solari.
Their lightning-speed advancement into technology was heralded by studying the alien tech, which deepened the understanding of physics and engineering. Nuclear technologies, chemical warfare, new material sciences, the mechs, and walkers, it was spearheaded by trying to reverse-engineer technology centuries ahead of our own… for the past hundred years. It wasn’t completely stolen, however. More or less borrowed ideas that had been made into our own with our own designs and implements. Still, the speed at which the Church and the military had deciphered such advancements all by themselves was… impressive to say the least.
Still, the fact that the goddess was alive, and could be brought back was big news. Checking the file for details, he found that the previous general, Jorgenson, had already approved this project. It was their next step as soon as they returned from New Amsterdam; which never happened.
If Helena was alive, then she could end this war swiftly, or at the very least help greatly like she once did during the War of Darkness. Having the goddess back would throw a massive wrench in the Crescent’s plans. It would certainly be something they wouldn’t expect. Not even I expected this, since many sources say that the goddess had already ascended to watch over humanity, while conspiracy theorists claim she had died in battle and that the Church was worshiping a corpse. This could be the trick up our sleeves that no one would even consider.
The colonel quickly got up from his seat and gathered the main files he had read. He placed them in a bag and rushed outside of his office in Facility 9. He went over to a nearby room and flicked the lights on. “We need to go,” he said. In an instant seven hemolite soldiers got up from whatever they were doing and instantly stood in line.
“Sir! Whatever you need of us, sir,” the group said in unison.
They were Hemo-1. His former squad members. He had taken up Louis' suggestion that they be his personal security detail. It was a shame that he had basically placed the best hemolite team out of commission, but after all he had been through he convinced himself that he could be just a little selfish. He didn’t want to lose any more friends. Not on his watch. Not while he was in an office, and they were out fighting.
“We’re going to New Lundun. Better pack up, it’s going to be a long night.”
“Mark,” Olivia said.
Jacobs turned to her direction and gave her a nod.
“Colonel, sir, may I ask where in New Lundun?”
“Liv, you don’t need to do that with me. Please. I give all of you special permission,” the colonel groaned. “It’s so weird. I mean, ‘captain’ was bad enough, but now you’re acting like I’m an authority figure.”
“You… are, though,” Emma shrugged.
“I’m your friend, and Liv I’m literally your partner. Unless you have some kind of weird fetish, save it for later.”
Olivia grinned, shaking her head. “Duly noted!” she chirped.
“That’s better,” Mark chuckled. “Now come on, we have a cathedral to visit.”
“Uhh, I’m not sure if you noticed, but we’re kinda… strigoi?!” Louis groaned. “I’d burn the moment I step in that place! Plus, it’s coated in silver! Anything I even touch will give me burns!”
“Oh come on, Lou. You have fucking gloves on. As long as you’re not a clumsy dumbass you’ll be fine… oh wait.’
“Uh huh, just sayin’ what I think, boss.”
The group headed out and Mark said something on his radio. He then sat on the ground, making his joints pop. The rest of the squad shrugged and followed his example, sitting down on the grass and waiting for… nothing. Charles and Zach looked at each other in confusion. “Uh, sir?” they asked. “Aren’t we supposed to be heading out and traveling right now?”
“Oh yeah, we’re just waiting.”
“Foooor…?”
The colonel gave them a smirk as a loud noise began to make itself known. A hummingbird transport appeared out of the distance and stopped right above them, slowly descending into the grass. “Being colonel has its perks,” Mark said with a smile. He stood up and hopped inside the hummingbird as soon as it landed. “Come on now! We’ve got work to do! Last one aboard buys everyone food later!”
Emma zipped in before Mark could even finish his sentence, followed by Olivia, Phineas, Charles, Zach, and then Louis, who sadly took too long to process what the colonel said, and lagged behind.
“Aw, man! Fuck this shit.”
“Rules are rules, Lou. Prepare your wallet later.” Mark grinned.
With a smile, the colonel pulled Olivia to his side, who blushed for a moment before shaking her head. “Take us up! New Lundun Cathedral! How long would it take?” he asked the pilot.
“About an hour and a half!” The pilot replied. “Less if you want to get there as soon as possible!”
“Take your time! The night’s still young.”
The hummingbird started to lift up, taking them into the air. The group settled down in their seats and watched outside the open. Mark opened up a bag inside the hummingbird and took out some ear muffs built for a strigoi. Extremely loud noises were damaging for a strigoi’s enhanced hearing, so the military started implementing ear muffs for them after complaints from early deployments of the hemolite squads.
The trip didn’t take too long. In only an hour and twenty minutes they had arrived at the safe zone of New Lundun, heading straight for the cathedral. The night mass had just ended and people were leaving the cathedral. “Looks like we made it in perfect time!” Mark smiled. They hovered for a few minutes in the air before eventually landing down right in front of the statue of Helena.
As soon as they landed, the colonel and his group left the hummingbird. Mark instructed the pilot to wait for them. He went straight for the cathedral with his group following behind. He entered inside, clearing his throat. “Hello?”
“Well this is surely unexpected,” an old man said, walking up to greet them.
“Great Grandfather Aurelius. It’s uh, an honor.”
“Please. The honor is mine… I see you’re the new colonel. Yes, I’ve heard the news,” he said. “Would you mind telling me your name, young man? As well as your companions, if they feel so. I usually don’t allow duskwalkers here but, I have nothing against them. I’ll make an exception for your group.”
“Thank you, Great Grandfather,” Mark replied. “I am Colonel Mark Jacobs. These are my friends and security detail. Olivia, Zach, Phineas, Charles, Emma, and Louis.”
“I see, and what brings you here?”
“Since Thatcher’s demise, I was given access to her research and project folders upon taking up the title. I’ve learned about what’s under your cathedral,” Mark cleared his throat. “Would it be alright if we could see it? I’d like to check it for myself. Of course, under your permission and guidance, Great Grandfather.”
The church head looked from Mark to his companions. He pulled a slight frown and hummed. “Do these companions of yours have the clearance? Surely, we wish to keep our secrets hidden,” he said. Mark nodded.
“They do not have clearance to know what is in Thatcher’s folders and her findings,” the colonel nodded. “However, I give them permission to accompany me, and should they discover things for themselves, then you have my word and my trust that I can keep them from spilling state secrets.”
The Great Grandfather gave a short pause before ultimately relenting. “Very well,” he let out a sigh. “Follow me.”
Aurelius walked behind the altar and pulled the same lever, which opened the same staircase leading underground, where Jorgenson and Thatcher had once gone. “Over here, colonel,” he said. “I do not know you completely yet, but this is a big deal of trust I am giving you. Perhaps you would be the one to do things that Thatcher could not have.”
Mark nodded, he and his group followed the Great Grandfather down the staircase. It led down to a massive underground facility, with numerous priests, researchers, and scientists. Libraries, records, instruments, and artifacts of old. It was a treasure trove of learning.
“So,” Aurelius cleared his throat. “What would you like to know about?”
“This isn’t all of it,” Mark said. “Thatcher mentioned a living, breathing, Helena.”
His group behind him let out a soft gasp, but they tried their best to hide their surprise.
“Hm,” the Great Grandfather nodded. “Perceptive young man aren’t you? Very well.”
They were then led into another room, behind a set of heavy blast doors. If the whole group were trying to hide their surprise then, now they could barely contain it. Even the colonel stared awestruck at the things he had seen. Despite the near-magical objects around them, the true shock was the massive starship at the end of the hallway. “It’s impressive isn’t it?” Aurelius said. “All of the goddess’ artifacts and items at our disposal, to use and learn from, to integrate into our own. This is why Anglestan is the most powerful nation in the UHT in terms of development. When it comes to industry, however, that would go to the UNA. But we share our secrets with them. All our advancements are handed to them first before any other nation.”
“This is all amazing, Great Grandfather,” Mark replied. “But this is not what I’m here for.”
“No, it’s not.” Aurelius nodded.
He led them to another room, one that was sterilized and sported advanced machinery. Things that Mark had never even seen. There were screens with luminous green texts that appeared in front of it. Large panels with numerous keys, levers, and dials. Graphs of all sorts and beeping monitors. In the center, was the very thing he had come all this way to confirm. A large cylinder filled with liquid, sporting tubes and pipes connecting to its base. Inside was a woman of large proportion. Four arms, two legs, and six wings. In her bare chest was a symbol of the sun that seemed to glow dimly.
“There she is, there’s you goddess.”
Neither Mark nor his group spoke a word. He walked up to it, eyeing the woman inside. It really is her. Down to the last details. Golden hair, six limbs, six folded wings, and she looks massive. Probably as big as her statue just outside the cathedral. This is it. The very goddess in the history books, the one spoken about in legends and the one worshiped in the Churches of Sol.
“Can we free her?” he said.
The Great Grandfather nearly choked on his spit upon hearing those words. “Free her?! That could kill her! We don’t even understand this technology, let alone control it!” he said pointing at the panels. “The machines you see here are the best and most advanced we have based on what we can reverse engineer, but even then, the consequences of tampering with its functions may be disastrous!”
“I understand, Great Grandfather,” Mark said. “But we are in a dire situation, and the goddess may be our hope of turning this around. Whatever secrets of her tech that you don’t understand, wouldn’t she be able to teach us directly? What good is she floating around in Sol knows what?”
“That is her miraculous healing fluid. She had already built this contraption centuries ago in case anything were to happen to her, that her body’s natural healing could not sustain,” Aurelius said. “During the War of Darkness, Helena was struck with a weapon so deadly, her very cells began to tear away. The Reaper. Dealt to her by Absolem the progenitor. Her flesh was peeling from her body, and she began to decay whilst she still breathed. She entered this contraption and gave strict instructions to the Great Grandfather at the time, not to interrupt the healing process. The machine that monitored her, however, began to fail over time.”
“So this… these screens and panels…”
“Is only what functions we can understand. We took it upon ourselves to rebuild and study it the best we could. What we have right now is only a cheap imitation of a technology we do not fully comprehend,” he said. “It took us decades to even figure out the fundamentals and create a working prototype of this machine. By some miracle, the goddess’ healing process had remained even while we replaced components of technology ahead of ours.”
“But you know how to free her, don’t you?”
“I… yes.”
“Great Grandfather Aurelius,” Mark began. “We can end this war. Imagine what we could do with the goddess fighting on our side. We could advance even further, we could finally end the bloodshed, and we can show humanity that there is still hope. Imagine how people all over the world would feel seeing as their goddess has returned.”
“I wish I had your enthusiasm,” Aurelius said. “But it is simply too risky. The Church’s duty is to protect Helena and her legacy. We keep her alive, literally and figuratively. She nearly died the last time she was involved in a war. Would you risk losing the goddess?”
“Would you risk humanity losing?”
The Great Grandfather fell silent, looking back at Helena floating inside the tube, then to the panels that controlled it. He frowned and let out a long sigh. “The goddess said that we should not interrupt it. That it would end as soon as it was finished. Maybe we should trust her words.”
Mark shook his head. “I don’t spot a single blemish on the goddess. Not a single scratch,” he argued. “You said it yourself that the machine had begun to fail and you replaced components. How would you know that the thing that’s supposed to wake her up was not tampered with? Think about it. What you may think is a useless piece may be integral to the whole machine. Or maybe your replacements were not up to the task. Just because nothing’s happened doesn’t mean its functions have remained whole.”
“Young man, we simply cannot gamble with the goddess’ life here.”
“Have you no faith? Great Grandfather?”
Aurelius stepped back in shock. Mark’s companions looked at each other, clearly surprised as well. “Mark… I don’t think we should keep arguing with—” Olivia tried to say.
“No,” the colonel said firmly, cutting her off. “Great Grandfather Aurelius, do you think that Helena will not be able to pull through if we wake her? How long has it been? A century? How much longer will we wait? She may be immortal but humans aren’t.”
“I'm sorry, but the chances of failure are too high. The probability of her—”
“I don’t care about the probability! Would you rather put your faith in a statistic?!” Mark raised his voice. “I lost my mother to this war! My friends! My job! My eye, and almost my life! I’ve put mine on the line out there! You don’t know what it’s like out there! Was my mother’s death just a probability too? Was she just a statistic to you?! That as long as the numbers are good, no matter how many are lost, we are ‘winning’?!”
“Mark—!”
“No, Liv! He needs to know what’s really going on out there!” he spat. “Great Grandfather, with all due respect, but you don’t have a damn clue what it’s like to be in the field. You’re a man of faith, aren’t you? Take a risk. Everyone else has.”
Aurelius stood there, dumbfounded. He bit the inside of his cheeks and clenched his fists. “For your insolence, I would have had you flogged and stripped of your rank,” he glared at the young colonel. However, his features slowly softened, letting out a soft sigh. “But I have never seen such conviction. Mighty is your faith.”
The Great Grandfather moved over to the panels and reached into his robe, pulling out from around his neck a key with the symbol of the sun. He inserted it into the machine and turned. A beep sounded, right before Aurelius pulled a lever. In an instant, the fluid inside the glass chamber began to drain out into the tubes under it. Slowly, the chamber emptied and all that was left was the nude form of the goddess sitting in the glass.
“Did it work?” Louis asked, stepping forward and looking at the woman.
Aurelius stayed silent, his hands shaking in anticipation. Mark moved toward the glass chamber, when suddenly, the glass opened up like a door, releasing a fragrant mist. They stood there, watching for a whole minute. Nothing. At first nothing. The Great Grandfather looked like he was about to break down. His knees shook as he covered his mouth, thinking that he was responsible for the death of Helena.
That was when… a soft sound was heard. Movement. Olivia immediately went over to Mark and stood in front of him. Ready to protect him should anything happen. Slowly, the goddess moved more, her arms inched to the side.
Then, her eyes opened.
2024.05.17 09:58 WWE_Network_Bot This Day in History: 05/17/2024
The following events happened on this day in history!
submitted by WWE_Network_Bot to wwe_network [link] [comments]
- 05/17/1980 - All Star Wrestling - All Star Wrestling S1980E138
- 05/17/1980 - WWE Championship Wrestling - WWE Championship Wrestling S1980E15
- 05/17/1985 - Tuesday Night Titans - Salvatore Bellomo cooks up Italian cuisine S1985E17
- 05/17/1986 - Mid-Atlantic Championship Wrestling - Mid-Atlantic Championship Wrestling S1986E20
- 05/17/1986 - WCCW - World Class Championship Wrestling S1986E137
- 05/17/1986 - World Championship Wrestling - WCW World Championship Wrestling S1986E137
- 05/17/1986 - WCCW - WCCW S1986E137
- 05/17/1986 - World Championship Wrestling - World Championship Wrestling S1986E137
- 05/17/1992 - WrestleWar - WrestleWar 1992 S1992E1
- 05/17/1992 - WrestleWar - WCW WrestleWar 1992 S1992E1
- 05/17/1993 - Raw - Raw S1993E17
- 05/17/1994 - ECW Hardcore TV - ECW Hardcore TV S1994E19
- 05/17/1998 - Slamboree - Slamboree 1998 S1998E1
- 05/17/1999 - WCW Monday Nitro - WCW Monday Nitro S1999E19
- 05/17/1999 - Raw - Raw S1999E20
- 05/17/2000 - WCW Thunder - WCW Thunder S2000E19
- 05/17/2001 - SmackDown - SmackDown S2001E20
- 05/17/2003 - WWE Confidential - SmackDown s European Invasion S2003E20
- 05/17/2004 - Raw - Raw S2004E20
- 05/17/2009 - Judgment Day - Judgment Day 2009 S2009E1
- 05/17/2010 - Raw - Raw S2010E20
- 05/17/2011 - WWE NXT - WWE NXT S2011E11
- 05/17/2013 - SmackDown - SmackDown S2013E20
- 05/17/2014 - This Week in WWE - May 17, 2014 S2014E20
- 05/17/2015 - WWE Payback - WWE Payback 2015 S2015E1
- 05/17/2015 - WWE Payback - WWE Payback 2015 Fallout
- 05/17/2015 - WWE Payback - WWE Payback 2015 Kickoff Show
- 05/17/2015 - WWE Payback - Sheamus comments on his win at WWE Payback
- 05/17/2017 - WWE NXT - NXT S2017E22
- 05/17/2017 - WWE Top 10 - Top 10 SmackDown LIVE Moments: May 16, 2017 S2017E77
- 05/17/2018 - Main Event - Main Event S2018E20
- 05/17/2018 - WWE Formerly Known As - How Bayley started her career as Davina Rose S1E3
- 05/17/2018 - WWE Main Event - WWE Main Event S2018E20
- 05/17/2018 - WWE Now - Are John Cena & Nikki Bella Getting Back Together? S2018E112
- 05/17/2019 - This Week in WWE - May 17, 2019 S2019E20
- 05/17/2019 - WWE NXT UK - Say hello to Jazzy Gabert: Exclusive 5-17-19
- 05/17/2019 - WWE Now - Bray Wyatt Apologizes to The Shield: WWE Now S2019E101
- 05/17/2019 - WWE List This! - 5 Money in the Bank Cash-In Fails S2019E28
- 05/17/2020 - Undertaker: The Last Ride - Chapter 2: The Redemption S2020E2
- 05/17/2020 - WWE Top 10 - Becky Lynchs Greatest Moments 2020
- 05/17/2020 - Last Ride: Post-Mortem - Last Ride: Post-Mortem (Chapter 2) S2020E2
- 05/17/2021 - WWE Now - Full WrestleMania Backlash 2021 Results S2021E69
- 05/17/2021 - Raw Talk - May 17, 2021 S2021E20
- 05/17/2021 - WWE Playlist - Umaga s Greatest Moments 2021
- 05/17/2021 - Miz & Mrs. - Mizectomy S2E20
- 05/17/2021 - Raw - Raw S2021E20
- 05/17/2021 - Raw - Exclusive: AJ & Omos are ready for Elias & Ryker
- 05/17/2021 - Raw - Exclusive: Tozawa escapes into the night
- 05/17/2021 - Raw - Exclusive: Asuka is ecstatic after defeating Flair
- 05/17/2022 - WWE Top 10 - Top 10 Raw Moments: May 16, 2022 2022
- 05/17/2022 - WWE NXT - WWE NXT S2022E21
- 05/17/2023 - WWEs The Bump - May 17, 2023 S2023E25
- 05/17/2023 - WWE Top 10 - Top 10 WWE NXT moments: May 16, 2023 2023
2024.05.17 09:49 Dumquestionsonly Some Suggested Changes to the "Pirate" Game-play loop.
This is a list of suggestions I have seen for CIG when it comes to the pirate gameplay loop in the future. I thought it would be interesting to get peoples feedback as currently piracy is widely seen as griefing.
1) Marked Cargo and Cargo destruction: A system that either marks cargo as stolen(so it is worth less and/or can only be sold in certain places), or destroys a portion of a ships cargo when a trader is blown up. This increases opportunity cost of piracy and adds some consequence to stealing cargo(which currently is not super present). This leads into the second idea.
2) The need to physically board ships to steal cargo: While there is a partial iteration of this in the game currently, I think there is a lot of room for this system to be fleshed out. Piracy Should not be as easy as blowing up a ship unless there is a serious loss in return. in the words of u/ Ehnto "I want to have my ship disabled and boarded, have an opportunity to flee or fight back, rush to gear up and defend myself or negotiate safe passage. That actually sounds fun.". I think proper boarding and/or negotiation would not only add massive RP potential but also allow a trader caught by surprise a chance to defend themselves.
3) Pirate flagging: The one thing piracy lacks immensely in its current state is consequence. I personally have just tanked huge Klescher sentences at the end of a session to come into my next session a law abiding citizen. Piracy should be a hole you actively need to dig yourself out of in order to access law abiding portions of a system. Sections of space controlled by law abiding players or the UEE should be off limits/restricted until a pirate can prove they are upstanding by completing some arbitrary set of quests.
4) Pirate economy: A pirates ship claim time and cost should be increased as well as the cost of equipment. Without the ability to obtain your ship from upstanding sources or nab gear from a large reputable dealer, pirates should have to pay more to obtain goods. Insurance companies are not going to want to work with a pirate and neither would an upstanding arms dealer. This could work in tandem with how a pirate goes about making profit. No one wants to work with a mass murderer BUT if you as a pirate negotiate and dont just blow people up, perhaps you have less of a penalty.
5) Realistic consequences: "If you pirate a yacht operating out of the Bahamas in modern day, you know what happens? You have ASW craft looking for you and any nearby frigates on the alert the same day. You pirate a second one, you're likely to have a couple of DDGs tasked to you and they're going to be looking for an excuse to sink you, not capture you and take you to jail. You hit shipping in a less controlled area but near major shipping lanes like Somalia, you get multiple navies cooperating to stop you.
To put it in a Star Citizen context, that'd be like holding up a Prospector who gets a distress call off causing the INS Jericho to task an Idris-M to look for you and disperse Hornet Trackers and Mantises to Yela and the Aaron Halo to sweep for you. You get within scanning range of any station and they will immediate send fighters and a warship after you, not just disallow landing. You hit a Starliner and rob the passengers and suddenly it's an interstellar incident and you have a pair of Javelins spearheading a joint UEE-Crusader task force to find you, kill you, and kill anyone working with you, and they don't give up after two hours and go away." -u/ CaptFrost
6) A rework of the prison system: The most common idea I have seen is a rework of the prison system where instead of needing time to be spent in prison you make the system merit based. The more charges you have, the more merits you need to get out. You ear merits at a flat rate, but only earn 1/10 of the merits when logged off. To get more merits you need to do community service or missions for whoever owns the prison in order to be set free. Oh and prison should obv not be so easy to escape from.
These are just some ideas, they may not all need to be implemented and they may not all be good ideas. I personally think the threat of piracy will keep the verse interesting. Always having to look over your shoulder makes for few dull moments but murder hobos should not be allowed to roam free with no consequence. Im sure with faction wars, org disputes, and piracy, hopefully there is plenty to do for PVP and PVE players and orgs alike.
submitted by Dumquestionsonly to starcitizen [link] [comments]
1) Marked Cargo and Cargo destruction: A system that either marks cargo as stolen(so it is worth less and/or can only be sold in certain places), or destroys a portion of a ships cargo when a trader is blown up. This increases opportunity cost of piracy and adds some consequence to stealing cargo(which currently is not super present). This leads into the second idea.
2) The need to physically board ships to steal cargo: While there is a partial iteration of this in the game currently, I think there is a lot of room for this system to be fleshed out. Piracy Should not be as easy as blowing up a ship unless there is a serious loss in return. in the words of u/ Ehnto "I want to have my ship disabled and boarded, have an opportunity to flee or fight back, rush to gear up and defend myself or negotiate safe passage. That actually sounds fun.". I think proper boarding and/or negotiation would not only add massive RP potential but also allow a trader caught by surprise a chance to defend themselves.
3) Pirate flagging: The one thing piracy lacks immensely in its current state is consequence. I personally have just tanked huge Klescher sentences at the end of a session to come into my next session a law abiding citizen. Piracy should be a hole you actively need to dig yourself out of in order to access law abiding portions of a system. Sections of space controlled by law abiding players or the UEE should be off limits/restricted until a pirate can prove they are upstanding by completing some arbitrary set of quests.
4) Pirate economy: A pirates ship claim time and cost should be increased as well as the cost of equipment. Without the ability to obtain your ship from upstanding sources or nab gear from a large reputable dealer, pirates should have to pay more to obtain goods. Insurance companies are not going to want to work with a pirate and neither would an upstanding arms dealer. This could work in tandem with how a pirate goes about making profit. No one wants to work with a mass murderer BUT if you as a pirate negotiate and dont just blow people up, perhaps you have less of a penalty.
5) Realistic consequences: "If you pirate a yacht operating out of the Bahamas in modern day, you know what happens? You have ASW craft looking for you and any nearby frigates on the alert the same day. You pirate a second one, you're likely to have a couple of DDGs tasked to you and they're going to be looking for an excuse to sink you, not capture you and take you to jail. You hit shipping in a less controlled area but near major shipping lanes like Somalia, you get multiple navies cooperating to stop you.
To put it in a Star Citizen context, that'd be like holding up a Prospector who gets a distress call off causing the INS Jericho to task an Idris-M to look for you and disperse Hornet Trackers and Mantises to Yela and the Aaron Halo to sweep for you. You get within scanning range of any station and they will immediate send fighters and a warship after you, not just disallow landing. You hit a Starliner and rob the passengers and suddenly it's an interstellar incident and you have a pair of Javelins spearheading a joint UEE-Crusader task force to find you, kill you, and kill anyone working with you, and they don't give up after two hours and go away." -u/ CaptFrost
6) A rework of the prison system: The most common idea I have seen is a rework of the prison system where instead of needing time to be spent in prison you make the system merit based. The more charges you have, the more merits you need to get out. You ear merits at a flat rate, but only earn 1/10 of the merits when logged off. To get more merits you need to do community service or missions for whoever owns the prison in order to be set free. Oh and prison should obv not be so easy to escape from.
These are just some ideas, they may not all need to be implemented and they may not all be good ideas. I personally think the threat of piracy will keep the verse interesting. Always having to look over your shoulder makes for few dull moments but murder hobos should not be allowed to roam free with no consequence. Im sure with faction wars, org disputes, and piracy, hopefully there is plenty to do for PVP and PVE players and orgs alike.
2024.05.17 09:48 FantasticKey1668 Sex with stranger
The thunder shook the house as the rain pelted the windows. Mike awoke to the wind howling wondering how much longer the storm would last. He had come out to the cabin, only a couple hours from the city expecting to spend a quiet weekend away from the city life. Unknowing to him that a storm was on the way. He rolled over and looked at the clock, the green display reads midnight. He closed his eyes and tried to fall back asleep when suddenly he heard a pounding on the door. He sat up and heard it again. “Who could be at my door and in this storm”, he thought. He got up and slowly approach the door hearing the pounding again. Opening the door a crack he sees a small figure standing a few feet away. Nothing but darkness in the background as the lightning flashes illuminated the figure. “Hello? Can I help you?” He asks. “Hi, I’m sorry to bother you but my car broke down. I tried to call a tow truck but I have no service.” the woman says. He stepped back and opened the door. “Please, come in.” As she walks through the door, he notices her clothes are soaked from the rain. “How far did you walk?” He asks. “I’m not sure, a couple miles it felt like”, she replies sounding exhausted. He leaves for a few moments and returns handing you a towel. “Can I get you a drink?”, “Please” she says, as he walks into the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. He returns, handing her the glass. “Thank you, my name is Liz by the way.” “Nice to meet you Liz, my name is Mike. You are welcome to use my phone if you would like.” She smiles, as she walks over to the table and picks up the phone. Mike sits down on the couch turning on the tv. A few moments later Liz returns, “Ugh”. “Bad news?” He asks. “They said no one will come out in this storm till it passes. What am I going to do?”. Just then a deafening rumble of thunder shook the house as the rain started coming down harder. “I don’t think this storm is letting up any time soon, you are more than welcome to wait it out till morning and try calling them back.” Mike offered. “Really? I don’t want to be a bother.” “No, I insist, it’s no bother at all”. Liz smiled, “Thank you, really.”
Shivering, Liz sets her glass down on the table. “I hate to ask, but would you mind if I use the bathroom. Maybe get a hot shower, I am freezing and my clothes are soaked.” “Not at all.” Mike says, standing up. He points down the hallway, “The bathrooms on the left, if you would like I can toss your clothes in the dryer for you too.” Liz smiles. “Thank you so much! I’ll leave them outside the door.” Liz turns and walks down the hallway, finding the bathroom and walking inside. Standing at the sink she takes a deep breath. Seeing herself in the mirror thinking “I look a wreck”. At 5’ 3”, she was considered average. Shoulder length brown hair and eyes that changed colors based on her mood, or so it seemed. With her athletic build and toned legs, she still felt her body ache from the miles she just walked. Slowly she stripped off her wet clothes, leaving them in a pile just outside the bathroom door. Sliding open the glass door to the shower she stepped inside, turning the shower on as she felt the hot water rain down over her body. Sitting on the couch Mike hears the shower turn on. Getting up he walks down the hallway finding the wet pile of clothes at the bathroom door. As he approaches, he notices the door open a couple inches. The light from inside escaping through the crack. He leans down to pick up the clothes and pauses. The bathroom is filled with steam from the hot water. The faint outline of a woman’s body behind the fogged-up glass door. He freezes. Quietly Liz begins to hum, eyes closed as she washes her hair under the hot water. Her hands begin moving across her body as she washes the sweat and dirt off her. Mike kneels frozen just on the other side of the door, knowing he shouldn’t be looking but his legs unwilling to move. In the shower, Liz’s hands drift along her skin. Caressing her breasts for a moment as she smiles to herself, she’s always been happy with how full they were. Perky and just large enough to fill a grown man’s hand. Her hands explore lower, as she washes her stomach and then her legs. She sighs, starting to feel better now that she is warm and clean. As she turns the water off, Mike snaps out of his frozen state. Gathering up the clothes and rushing down the hall to put them in the dryer. Quickly returning to the kitchen as he retrieves a beer from the fridge and sits back down on the couch flipping through the stations. Stepping out of the shower Liz dries off finding a robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door, she drapes it around her body.
“Thank you so much, I feel much better”, she says, as she walks into the living room. Mike jumps slightly, startled by her voice then smiles. “You’re welcome, your clothes are in the dryer,” as he notices the robe she had on. Liz walks over and sits down on the couch, slowly crossing one leg over the other. “This robe will do for now,” she says with a smile. Mike gets up and walks into the kitchen, “Would you like a drink?”. “Sure” Liz says, “Whatever you are drinking.” As Mike returns, he can’t help but notice Liz’s toned legs, the robe resting mid-thigh. He hands Liz a beer as she smiles and lets out a small laugh. “What is so funny?”, he asks. She looks down at him while raising an eyebrow. “Is something the matter?” He scrunches his eyebrows wondering what she meant, as he looked down. He gasps, realizing a small bulge had formed in his pants, a likely result of the unexpected show he witnessed not long ago. He turned away quickly, “I’m sorry” he says. She laughed, “its ok, I expected it.” Mike turns his head back towards her, “You expected it?” “Yes, I mean, after watching me shower I would be upset if you didn’t have one. Mikes eyes grow big, shocked and embarrassed that she knew he was watching her. “I, didn’t mean to, the door was just cracked open and I was getting your clothes…” he stumbles trying to explain himself. She smiles as she stands up, “Did you like what you saw?” He takes a big gulp as he nods. She slowly undoes the tie holding the robe together, letting the robe fall off her body and onto the floor. “Is this what you wanted to see?” His heart begins beating faster, her naked body on full display in front of him. She slowly reaches out as she takes his hand in hers, bringing it up to her chest as it cups her breast. His breathing increases as he feels her nipple harden against the palm of his hand as he instinctively begins to squeeze her breast. She lets out a quiet moan as she smiled at him. Reaching forward she rests her hand on the now large bulge in his pants. He jumps slightly as he feels the pressure of her hand against it. “Oh my, we seem to have a problem here.” She says, as she slowly begins to unbutton his pants, pulling the zipper down ever so slowly. He sighs as he feels the cool air rush into his pants as she unzips them. Her hand reaching inside as she releases his manhood. A smile forms on her face as it enters her view. Fully erect as his blood pumps through it. She slowly wraps her fingers around it stroking its full length as she devilishly licks her lips. Mike slowly closes his eyes as he feels her fingers around him, letting out a slight moan. “Are you enjoying that?” she asks, as she continues to stroke his shaft. “Yes” he says, his breathing increasing. Biting her lip, she steps back, leading him to the couch and directing him to sit down. As he sits down, she kneels in front of him. His cock aiming towards the ceiling in front of her as she wraps her fingers around it again. She strokes it a few times before bringing her lips close. Slowly she runs the tip of her tongue from the base of the shaft up to the head feeling it pulse against her tongue. He moans at the feeling of her tongue, as she slowly wraps her lips around the head, sucking gently. “Ugh, yes” he moans, looking down at her. Removing her hand from his shaft she engulfs his entire cock as he feels it enter her throat for the first time. She bobs her head up and down faster as she hears the moans escape his lips. Pausing for a moment, his cock between her lips, she twirls her tongue around the head feeling his hips lifting up slightly under neither her. She moans to herself sending vibrations down his shaft. Slowly he moves a hand to the back of her head, resting it with his fingers intertwined in her hair. She raises her head sucking on the tip for a moment, before removing it from her mouth. Replacing her mouth with her hand again as she strokes his now wet cock. Smiling up at him as she watches some precum run down his shaft she sticks her tongue out to catch it. Moaning again, he ushers her head back down, as she opens her mouth taking his cock between her lips. Bobbing her head faster now, her tongue swirling around his swollen head each time her head comes up. He grips her hair in his fist, the pressure inside him building. She feels his cock pulsing against her tongue and lips as she takes his shaft deeper, wanting to taste his juice. He lets out a groan at the same time she feels him erupt. She lowers her head his cock deep in her throat as she feels the first stream of thick cum fill her stomach. She continues bobbing her head tightening her lips around his cock as she milks him dry, hungerly swallowing each stream he pumps into her awaiting throat. His head falls back against the couch with a loud sigh, his hand collapsing along the side of him. She releases his semi hard cock. Slowly licking around the head making sure not to miss a drop before looking up and smiling at him while licking her lips. Exhausted he drifts off to sleep.
submitted by FantasticKey1668 to sex_stories_adult_hot [link] [comments]
Shivering, Liz sets her glass down on the table. “I hate to ask, but would you mind if I use the bathroom. Maybe get a hot shower, I am freezing and my clothes are soaked.” “Not at all.” Mike says, standing up. He points down the hallway, “The bathrooms on the left, if you would like I can toss your clothes in the dryer for you too.” Liz smiles. “Thank you so much! I’ll leave them outside the door.” Liz turns and walks down the hallway, finding the bathroom and walking inside. Standing at the sink she takes a deep breath. Seeing herself in the mirror thinking “I look a wreck”. At 5’ 3”, she was considered average. Shoulder length brown hair and eyes that changed colors based on her mood, or so it seemed. With her athletic build and toned legs, she still felt her body ache from the miles she just walked. Slowly she stripped off her wet clothes, leaving them in a pile just outside the bathroom door. Sliding open the glass door to the shower she stepped inside, turning the shower on as she felt the hot water rain down over her body. Sitting on the couch Mike hears the shower turn on. Getting up he walks down the hallway finding the wet pile of clothes at the bathroom door. As he approaches, he notices the door open a couple inches. The light from inside escaping through the crack. He leans down to pick up the clothes and pauses. The bathroom is filled with steam from the hot water. The faint outline of a woman’s body behind the fogged-up glass door. He freezes. Quietly Liz begins to hum, eyes closed as she washes her hair under the hot water. Her hands begin moving across her body as she washes the sweat and dirt off her. Mike kneels frozen just on the other side of the door, knowing he shouldn’t be looking but his legs unwilling to move. In the shower, Liz’s hands drift along her skin. Caressing her breasts for a moment as she smiles to herself, she’s always been happy with how full they were. Perky and just large enough to fill a grown man’s hand. Her hands explore lower, as she washes her stomach and then her legs. She sighs, starting to feel better now that she is warm and clean. As she turns the water off, Mike snaps out of his frozen state. Gathering up the clothes and rushing down the hall to put them in the dryer. Quickly returning to the kitchen as he retrieves a beer from the fridge and sits back down on the couch flipping through the stations. Stepping out of the shower Liz dries off finding a robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door, she drapes it around her body.
“Thank you so much, I feel much better”, she says, as she walks into the living room. Mike jumps slightly, startled by her voice then smiles. “You’re welcome, your clothes are in the dryer,” as he notices the robe she had on. Liz walks over and sits down on the couch, slowly crossing one leg over the other. “This robe will do for now,” she says with a smile. Mike gets up and walks into the kitchen, “Would you like a drink?”. “Sure” Liz says, “Whatever you are drinking.” As Mike returns, he can’t help but notice Liz’s toned legs, the robe resting mid-thigh. He hands Liz a beer as she smiles and lets out a small laugh. “What is so funny?”, he asks. She looks down at him while raising an eyebrow. “Is something the matter?” He scrunches his eyebrows wondering what she meant, as he looked down. He gasps, realizing a small bulge had formed in his pants, a likely result of the unexpected show he witnessed not long ago. He turned away quickly, “I’m sorry” he says. She laughed, “its ok, I expected it.” Mike turns his head back towards her, “You expected it?” “Yes, I mean, after watching me shower I would be upset if you didn’t have one. Mikes eyes grow big, shocked and embarrassed that she knew he was watching her. “I, didn’t mean to, the door was just cracked open and I was getting your clothes…” he stumbles trying to explain himself. She smiles as she stands up, “Did you like what you saw?” He takes a big gulp as he nods. She slowly undoes the tie holding the robe together, letting the robe fall off her body and onto the floor. “Is this what you wanted to see?” His heart begins beating faster, her naked body on full display in front of him. She slowly reaches out as she takes his hand in hers, bringing it up to her chest as it cups her breast. His breathing increases as he feels her nipple harden against the palm of his hand as he instinctively begins to squeeze her breast. She lets out a quiet moan as she smiled at him. Reaching forward she rests her hand on the now large bulge in his pants. He jumps slightly as he feels the pressure of her hand against it. “Oh my, we seem to have a problem here.” She says, as she slowly begins to unbutton his pants, pulling the zipper down ever so slowly. He sighs as he feels the cool air rush into his pants as she unzips them. Her hand reaching inside as she releases his manhood. A smile forms on her face as it enters her view. Fully erect as his blood pumps through it. She slowly wraps her fingers around it stroking its full length as she devilishly licks her lips. Mike slowly closes his eyes as he feels her fingers around him, letting out a slight moan. “Are you enjoying that?” she asks, as she continues to stroke his shaft. “Yes” he says, his breathing increasing. Biting her lip, she steps back, leading him to the couch and directing him to sit down. As he sits down, she kneels in front of him. His cock aiming towards the ceiling in front of her as she wraps her fingers around it again. She strokes it a few times before bringing her lips close. Slowly she runs the tip of her tongue from the base of the shaft up to the head feeling it pulse against her tongue. He moans at the feeling of her tongue, as she slowly wraps her lips around the head, sucking gently. “Ugh, yes” he moans, looking down at her. Removing her hand from his shaft she engulfs his entire cock as he feels it enter her throat for the first time. She bobs her head up and down faster as she hears the moans escape his lips. Pausing for a moment, his cock between her lips, she twirls her tongue around the head feeling his hips lifting up slightly under neither her. She moans to herself sending vibrations down his shaft. Slowly he moves a hand to the back of her head, resting it with his fingers intertwined in her hair. She raises her head sucking on the tip for a moment, before removing it from her mouth. Replacing her mouth with her hand again as she strokes his now wet cock. Smiling up at him as she watches some precum run down his shaft she sticks her tongue out to catch it. Moaning again, he ushers her head back down, as she opens her mouth taking his cock between her lips. Bobbing her head faster now, her tongue swirling around his swollen head each time her head comes up. He grips her hair in his fist, the pressure inside him building. She feels his cock pulsing against her tongue and lips as she takes his shaft deeper, wanting to taste his juice. He lets out a groan at the same time she feels him erupt. She lowers her head his cock deep in her throat as she feels the first stream of thick cum fill her stomach. She continues bobbing her head tightening her lips around his cock as she milks him dry, hungerly swallowing each stream he pumps into her awaiting throat. His head falls back against the couch with a loud sigh, his hand collapsing along the side of him. She releases his semi hard cock. Slowly licking around the head making sure not to miss a drop before looking up and smiling at him while licking her lips. Exhausted he drifts off to sleep.
2024.05.17 09:47 Illuminaste Looking for some recommendations for places to go/restaurants to eat!
Hi everyone! I’m hoping to get some recommendations from any of y’all that are familiar with Atlanta and The Battery in general. My fiancé is a lifelong diehard Braves fan and this past Christmas, I bought him tickets to see them play. This will be his (and my) first time in Atlanta and first Braves game. We are staying at the Omni Hotel at The Battery. If any of y’all have ever stayed there, I’d love to hear your opinions! I can’t remember the exact name but we are staying in a suite of some sort. It was around $1300 a night so I am hoping that it’s worth it!
We could never afford to pay that kind of money for a hotel room. A (very wealthy) good family friend of ours booked the room for us for my fiancé’s birthday a few weeks ago. If you’ve stayed there, please let me know if you enjoyed it! :) We are leaving first thing in the morning (in less than 5 hours 🫠) and we’ll be coming home Sunday evening. The game that we’re seeing is on Saturday night and I’m hoping the weather gets better before then!
That being said, I’m hoping y’all have some recommendations for good places to eat, things to visit, bars with good beer selections, etc. Since we’re arriving tomorrow around lunch time, I’m hoping to go explore once we’re settled in our room. I’m not sure what kind of things there are to do around Atlanta but I’m sure we will find something.
For what it’s worth, I am a stay at home mom to two toddlers and my fiancé is a police officer so we’re not exactly rolling around in dollar bills 🥲 Therefore any recommendations for affordable restaurants or things to do is greatly appreciated. He has been so beyond excited for this game since opening his tickets on Christmas. I really want to do my best to give him the most memorable and amazing weekend as I can. He is always taking care of us and I just want to make this weekend special for him because he deserves it.
Thank y’all in advance for reading my jumbled rambling post. I appreciate any recommendations y’all have!
PS- If y’all know a special trick to get a ball, I’d love to know 🤣 We bought poster boards because he wants to write on it and hopefully catch a ball with his glove he’s bringing. 😀 He said he’s planning to write “DIEHARD LIFELONG BRAVES FAN / MY FIRST GAME / PLEAS THROW ME A BALL!” Or something along those lines 🫠 That’s how excited he is.
submitted by Illuminaste to Braves [link] [comments]
We could never afford to pay that kind of money for a hotel room. A (very wealthy) good family friend of ours booked the room for us for my fiancé’s birthday a few weeks ago. If you’ve stayed there, please let me know if you enjoyed it! :) We are leaving first thing in the morning (in less than 5 hours 🫠) and we’ll be coming home Sunday evening. The game that we’re seeing is on Saturday night and I’m hoping the weather gets better before then!
That being said, I’m hoping y’all have some recommendations for good places to eat, things to visit, bars with good beer selections, etc. Since we’re arriving tomorrow around lunch time, I’m hoping to go explore once we’re settled in our room. I’m not sure what kind of things there are to do around Atlanta but I’m sure we will find something.
For what it’s worth, I am a stay at home mom to two toddlers and my fiancé is a police officer so we’re not exactly rolling around in dollar bills 🥲 Therefore any recommendations for affordable restaurants or things to do is greatly appreciated. He has been so beyond excited for this game since opening his tickets on Christmas. I really want to do my best to give him the most memorable and amazing weekend as I can. He is always taking care of us and I just want to make this weekend special for him because he deserves it.
Thank y’all in advance for reading my jumbled rambling post. I appreciate any recommendations y’all have!
PS- If y’all know a special trick to get a ball, I’d love to know 🤣 We bought poster boards because he wants to write on it and hopefully catch a ball with his glove he’s bringing. 😀 He said he’s planning to write “DIEHARD LIFELONG BRAVES FAN / MY FIRST GAME / PLEAS THROW ME A BALL!” Or something along those lines 🫠 That’s how excited he is.
2024.05.17 09:47 Edwardthecrazyman Hiraeth or Where the Children Play: Oh, Dear Brother of Mine, How I Hate What I've Made You [12]
First/Previous
Gemma was right about the sky’s open night, and I could sympathize with her recollection of the beauty, but for me it must’ve been a greater tragedy—the young woman had only ever enjoyed the stars in the pits of Golgotha; I could, long before, drink in the sky at leisure. Cruel memories.
The night the Rednecks died was one of viscera, but before that it was coolness on the breeze, a warmth by the fires while John played his guitar and we had only just taken two dozen kegs of lager (personal reserves) from the Atlanta despot—the man that kept his subjects as slaves and not a person among the camp was left without budding intoxication. No matter the age, everyone was invited to be merry; if it was that children too faced the plight of a bad world, then so too should they reap the moments of plenty—or so the camp figured.
John had taken a group by the fires where wagons were drawn in interlocking semicircles for cover and Jackson sat beside the picker. Jackson was a man which normally preferred quiet reflection over boisterous singing and nearly never wore the band on his throat, and yet there he was belting out the chorus at the top of his lungs, tankard in hand, red cloth blazed around his neck—it was a contagion and those drunk enough for easier embarrassment sang proudly along:
“There is power, there is power in a band of working folk!
When we stand hand in hand,
That’s a power, that’s the power,
That must rule in every land!”
I’d taken to the outlying shadows with my back pressed against the gas-powered caleche, my own tankard in hand. I loved the warmth of that great big family, truly, but even in those days—and maybe it was that queer youthfulness which longed for individualism that made me that way then—I remained as distanced as possible when I could. I sipped the lager, it was a fine drink and my brother Billy, nearly as old as I was when I’d first taken up in the infantry, swaggered to stand beside me just as quiet for minutes and we looked at the stars and he asked me what it was like to kill a man.
“Is it hard?” he asked.
I nodded, “Sometimes.”
“Killing monsters ain’t so bad. Don’t know if I could do it to a person.”
“You could if they meant to kill you; or if they meant to do it to someone you cared about,” I promised him. In those days, spry, energized, I held no time for staring into abysses; though I still wasn’t a man fully, I pretended as one. It was about family, and it was about doing what was right—what’s right seemed to change, or I changed. The world felt stark with good and evil and even later I’d feel that sentiment well up in me, but if that’s true, I know I stand more on the latter and so I intentionally obfuscated it—this I know. If not, it might be too much to bear. I was required to lie to myself and even in knowing I lied, it was better.
Billy tugged on the red kerchief around his throat and asked me how it looked on him.
“Looks good,” I said.
“Don’t think I look stupid at all?”
I smiled over my drink, “You always look stupid.” I sipped. “The neckwear’s fine.”
“Give me a break,” said Billy; he investigated his own cup, gave it a swish with his wrist, watching its contents swirl. “Aren’t you ever afraid you’ll die?”
“Sometimes—nights like this—I wouldn’t mind it.”
“Really?” my brother asked.
“There’s always a chance of it. Every moment, I guess.”
He smiled. “I wish I had that confidence.”
“You’ll get it,” I returned his smile; it was true that he would gain the fighting spirit. It came to us all with time and reminiscing on the early days, I recall the grit and the hatred—there was learning there too though. Besides, I’d seen the squalors of a stationary man. The stagnation of a place, an unmoving home.
John put his guitar away and laughter erupted from the crowd from something said and Sibylle, cowboy hat cocked funny, traipsed across the camp to the open keg for a refill; the man there, tending the cylinders, was a man named Tandy (a foreigner and one unknown besides the way he smoked a skunk pipe and told wild stories). My mother leaned over while Tandy opened the spigot mouth on the keg, and she froze there, and I could see her there cut out forever against the light of the fires; I watched, and it came so suddenly that I couldn’t be sure what’d happened at all. It was so sudden that I couldn’t find my weapon and I couldn’t find even the courage to fight because in those moments it wasn’t courage I needed, it was grounds to understand.
Sibylle came apart in two pieces immediately, torn completely through and dust erupted as her legs struck the ground while her torso spun through the air like a top, a trail of liquid trailed after, caught in the blue of night so it shone as black; she couldn’t scream. Tandy was a statue. Before anyone could react, more flesh, other bodies, went up and there was all manner of limbs which filled the ground, and it is astounding how quickly a red mist forms across the ground during a massacre. Perhaps the wails of my comrades started before, perhaps others fell before Sibylle, but I could not comprehend the goings-on till I saw her drop the way she did.
Frail human screams rose on the night; I slammed to the ground, tankard gone away and hands scrambling in the dirt; I reached up blindly and yanked Billy to my level and his expression was one of innocence, panic, tears even. Glancing around, I saw the demons bolt from the pitch-black darkness on the edges of camp, mutants taking the fore while greater creatures lurked further back, some hurled whips of gliding metal which writhed over their heads when they stretched them out for a strike—alien—and they sliced directly through soft human bodies. Not even a cry escaped me, but Billy let go with it and I slapped my cupped hand over his mouth hard to hold the screams. His voice would not have been alone anyway, not alongside that startling cacophony. Amidst the cries of people, there were the cries of horses, of our hounds.
We rolled across the ground, slipped beneath the raised body of the gas-powered caleche, remained quiet in the dark, peeked out between the wheels.
“What’s happening?” Billy whispered through my fingers; I removed my hand from him and caught a glimpse of him framed in a square of firelight through the wheels—we lay there on our bellies and the left side of his face was glazed with dirt where I’d pulled him down.
“Shh,” I told him, “Shh, please. Please.” Not another word came while I pleaded with him, pleaded with the world to make this all a nightmare.
Through the haze and the running silhouettes painted black, I saw what might have been Jackson; he stumbled and in the moment that it took me to gasp, his head was gone from his body, his torso slid on as he collapsed, came to rest mere feet from the motor wagon. I told myself that it wasn’t him, but it probably was.
Some mutants lumbered through the camp like animated corpses, some leapt with wild energy or sprayed noxious fumes which lingered in the air; others still were amalgams of humanlike limbs themselves—fiends—exhausting terrible sounds, producing smells of sulfur, glistening with whatever liquids excreted from their oblong alien orifices. Demons ran amok, chanted in devil tongued languages, laughed madly at the destruction—others still, those which displayed some greater intelligence, broke into a song I could never hope or want to replicate; it seemed a unified damnation.
“Please,” I repeated in a whimper and Billy hushed me this time and I realized we were holding hands, squeezing for dear life as figures walked the camp, speared those half-alive, elected others for twisted carnality.
In darkness, in fright plainly, we scuttled from the recess of our hiding place, kept quiet, held to each other, and went into the wasteland where nothing was—every shadow was a potential threat, every second could’ve been the last. We were holding hands; then we weren’t.
Only a glance—that’s all I afforded my brother and nothing more—what a joke of a person I am! What a coward I was. Always.
Something got him in the dark and instead of dying alongside those I cared about, I went on, heartbeat driving me till it was all that I heard in my ears and my muscles ached and my chest heaved and sweat covered me, chilled me in the breeze of the night—it was only once I’d accepted the dark completely, crawled into a hollowed space of rocks along a squat ridge that I watched the demolished camp; it seemed no larger than a spark, but the creatures, fiends and others continued their war cries; never before had I witnessed demons participate in such an attack.
I watched till the sun came, till the fires became smoke, then I watched the band of hell creatures disband. The smell of sulfur remained in the air—copper too—and I stumbled back to the camp in a dreamlike daze, totally unbelieving of the things I saw. Among those dead on the ground, I could recognize none; among those piked from rear to shoulder, standing like morbid scarecrows where they’d been steadied against the ground, I could not want to recognize.
Many of the wagons were overturned, including the gas-powered caleche and I went to it; the metal of its body was warped but I fell to the ground by it and pushed my back against the exposed undercarriage, remained frozen there while examining the bodies, the terrible strips of skin which rested places like wet sheets of paper, the piles of bones removed and smashed and piled.
I cried so deeply that oxygen became a memory, and the shakes couldn’t be contained.
It was like that for so long, knees pulled up, face pushed between, and the wails came unafraid of whatever attention they might garner; there was no rationale, but I imagine if there had been, I would’ve welcomed death in that misery. It was a deep wound that not even my own cowardice would overcome for the sake of survival.
Unaware of my surroundings, not wanting to look up from the ground between my legs, the noise which had started out as imaginary became real and I raised my head then to listen better and wipe my sore eyes; it was the sound of clip-clop horse hooves and I mildly wondered if any of the animals had been spared. I stood and pivoted around the dead camp and there it was, a man on a painted horse with golden hair; he leisurely drove the mount through the place, maneuvering around pools of blood, clumps of body parts and upon seeing me, he smiled and offered a languid wave, keeping one of his gloved hands on the reins.
The man wore white and swished his hair back upon arriving directly in front of me. Ahoy, he offered kindly, Did you happen to see the other riders?
I shook my head, feeling numb.
Ah, he said, I could have sworn four other riders, at least, passed me on my way. His gray eyes examined the carnage. Shame. He shook his head. You are?
“H-harlan.”
He nodded and nearly offered an expression of genuine condolence before descending from the horse; the animal gave a gentle grunt and wandered away from its master to inspect a nearby group of the dead. The man offered his hand, and I took it in a shake. Mephisto, said the man. He flashed a smile again before his face grew serious. I’ve come to you to deal.
I shot him a questioning look, one of bafflement.
I heard your calls from far off. He nodded, removed a white handkerchief from his breast pocket and swiped it down his face. Hot out. He shrugged then replaced the cloth in his pocket. This, he motioned to the disarray of vehicles, of bodies, I can’t fix all this—it’s too much—but there’s a person you love, I know. I could bring them back.
“Doctor?” In retrospect it was such a naïve question.
He shook his head.
“Angel?”
He grinned and nodded, Sure.
“Demon?”
Undoubtedly. His eyes—pits of gray in that radiant face—nearly expressed solemness; he daintily shook the hair from his face and looked at his steed which sniffed a corpse. What’s the word, Harlan? There are others calling and I must be on my way soon—I can’t dally. There was a sharpness to the words. Can’t dally. We must convene soon, or I’ll mosey on.
I snorted back the clog in my nose from the tears and wiped my eyes with my sleeves. “Okay.”
Deal?
I nodded, “Deal.”
Sleep tonight, said Mephisto, Sleep and you’ll be rewarded in the morning.
“You said it’s a deal.”
He nodded and scanned the carnage before we matched gazes and then he said, Yes?
“What is it you want from me?”
Nothing you need now. He called the horse, and it came, and he swept his feet quickly from the ground and settled into position atop the animal. Sleep, Harlan. You won’t be bothered. There are worse things still over the horizon.
I watched him go till he disappeared and once he was gone, I couldn’t cry anymore and instead rummaged through the wagons for what I might carry; along the way I found John, face twisted but corpse intact. The body from the previous night that I’d guessed was Jackson couldn’t be determined but I found him nowhere else. I slid Sibylle’s holster from her hips, fell hard onto the ground and found that I could sob more. I took her cowboy hat, placed it on my head and held her pistol in one hand and the belt holster dangled from the other while I searched the other bodies; there were so many, but I could not find Billy.
Waiting for darkness, I took the spot where I rested, back against the caleche’s undercarriage, watched the sky and felt the gun in my hand; it was heavy. I put it to my head, closed my eyes, and whispered affirmations to myself then I put the pistol between my splayed legs, watched it still in the dirt, and pulled the hat down over my eyes but it did little for the smell. Though the brim of the hat cut the sky out, I watched the ground and saw circling shadows form overhead and heard calls of turkey vultures; they came to pick over the bodies. I withdrew my knees to my chest there again and laid my forearm across them and bit into my arm while closing my eyes. I had thought I was a man and for a time, maybe I was, but there in that miserable pit of despair I became a child again and if I’d become more delirious, I’m sure I might’ve called out for Jackson like it was a bad dream.
Into a fading stupor of sleep in the sun I went and when I awoke again it was dark and chilly and I was tired and hungry but too sick to eat and hardly strong enough to move; I looked at the gun and put it into its holster and left it there by the caleche. In the light of the moon and stars, I moved to gather a bolt of canvas; I unfurled the fabric and created a leaning shelter against the overturned vehicle and crawled into it. There was a hole in the canvas, and I peeked out at the stars.
Weeping came again, but not so uproarious; I was stuck there letting go of whimpers, lying on my back, feeling the tears trace in lines from the outer corners of my eyes to collect along my earlobes. In time, I fell to sleep again on the hard ground because the mourning had taken all else from me.
A pinpoint of sunlight broke my eyelids and I jerked awake and reached for the holster, but it was gone. So was the hat. I crawled from the leaning shelter and there he was.
Billy stood plainly among the dried, congealed blood-soaked field and he looked on to the horizon and all shadows were long in the midday sun which hung up there in a soft blue sky. Whether it be a dream or a spell, I couldn’t care—I charged to him and spun him so he faced me and though his face was plain and expressionless, I wrapped him into a forceful hug. He placed his hands on my back and gave a gentle squeeze; when I pulled from him, my hands on his shoulders, I saw he held Sibylle’s hat in his left hand, pinched by the brim; he’d already tugged her holster belt around his hips—he could have it all. I shook while holding him then let go to wipe my face.
“You’re alive,” I nodded.
He nodded without speaking then looked at the hat in his hand and placed it on his head and firmly pressed it down.
“Billy! Hell, you’re alive!”
The corners of his mouth twitched upward for a moment then he nodded again. “Yeah.” His eyes curiously searched our surroundings like he meant to take each detail in forever.
I slapped him on the shoulder and almost squealed. “Goddammit.” I wiped my eyes again and could do little to keep the excitement from exploding from me. “Oh, we should go. We should go on and get somewhere safe.”
He nodded toward the horizon, “’Lanta?”
“Sure.”
We packed and it was a like an ethereal phantom remained among us beside the quiet dead; turkey vultures cawed to break the silence, pecked where they pleased on the bodies, and I couldn’t want to fight them. I kept sidelong eyes on Billy with the ever-present worry that he’d vanish. Perhaps he was the phantom.
From the rear of the caleche, I removed a few sentimental books Jackson liked, essential cookware, and sparse rations for the trek. The last thing I grabbed was my shotgun and a bit of ammo.
As we set from the dead place, the terrible silhouettes that were cut from there on the horizon behind us grew in my mind with every backward glance—I wanted to fall to pieces, but I saw Billy walk alongside me and although contented is not the right word, it is the nearest. The steps of our boots were all that was heard because I could not fathom to pierce the space between us with words for fear that it would all end. It was a dream, surely. I’d lost my mind. With my hands thumbed into the straps of my pack, I saw I my hands still shook, and they would shake a lot longer—years and with memories too. The crunch of earth underfoot became a rhythm and instead of looking at my brother, I watched his shadow on the ground.
“Everyone’s dead?” He asked.
“Yeah.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah,” I repeated.
“How ain’t I? How ain’t you?”
To say that it was luck would’ve been too morbid. Instead of saying anything, I shrugged, kicked a loose stone, watched my feet some more, and felt a queasiness come over me. For the moment, the immeasurable deaths of those I’d left behind were forgotten in the company of my brother and a sickness welled up inside of me so suddenly that I felt that I’d fall to pieces at the slightest provocation. Finally, I did speak again, but only after steeling myself to the troubles, “Yeah, how are you alive?”
Billy shrugged at me then stumbled up a hill which overlooked trash wood wilderness where sticks lay twisted and bare and further on the sight of Atlanta was visible and I cupped a hand across my brow and Billy did the same and we looked on at the shadows of the place out there where strings of smoke rose from the skyline as a signature for the desolation of the city; it was dead. I felt it in my bones.
My hands were light while my head was heavy, my throat was dry, and the entire world seized in moments of stillness or perhaps it was my own vision which construed the world in that way; I took to the small hill which Billy had climbed and sat there and stared at the place between my feet to steady myself.
“Fire,” said Billy.
I nodded and nearly choked.
Leviathan—till then I had no belief in dragons—glided over the broken city, its winged shadow little seen but its voice was deep across the scene, letting go of roars which shook the ground. We hid among the trash wood and moved down the hill and watched the creature thrash in the air as if it was angry for its abominable life. Whatever millennia it spent in the pits of hell seemingly thrust upon it a love of destruction and pain.
My brother moved with a more assured stride and kept a cool distance and upon fleeing from the wreckage, from the outlying area of Atlanta and the place we’d left our family, he spoke little and watched me strangely whenever I took to melancholic fatiguing. We lit no fires for fear of what it could draw from the night so in the dark I’d see him watching some far-off place, maybe seeing through the reality which surrounded us, and he’d snap from it, catch my eye, and disappear for minutes to scan the perimeter of whatever place we stayed. Being alongside my resurrected brother was lonelier than I could bear, and I hoped he’d disappear for good or that I could work up the courage to end my own life. It was like purgatory explained in books and for a time, it felt endless; upon witnessing the destruction of Atlanta, we pushed to Marrietta, and it was much the same. As was Chatanooga, Nashville, Knoxville, Louisville, Charlotte. The ocean had risen so that Fayetville was gone underwater, and the Florida leg disappeared completely as far as I’m aware. I understood later that Memphis was overlooked and more places further west were alive too, but when we’d exhausted the south, we moved north and found strongholds of families or traders or even small groupings of civilization, but by and large we found nothing much in the two years that we hoofed it from place to place; it was my doing mostly—I wanted to find a place untouched by the mayhem in the area my family had once patrolled.
In retrospect, I am certain that Billy only stayed by my side for convenience; there wasn’t any of my brother left in the man that was my travelling companion for that time. He was a ghost of a person and Mephisto had preyed upon my desire in the worst moment of weakness in my life. There were nights—maybe we’d taken up in a natural alcove for shelter or we’d locked ourselves in some ancient structure for sleep—I’d watch Billy lay where he was, Sibylle’s hat and holster lying beside him, and I’d think of putting him down but he’d stir and in a brief shadow I’d see my brother as he’d been and withdraw to bury my face in fake sleep to be met with images of the night the demons attacked where I’d shake, sweat, and bite my lips so hard I’d drink blood.
Two years we marched around the Appalachians and in that time, I felt myself wither and disconnect.
Upon moving further north we met Indianapolis—that’s what it was called back then—and it was run by an older woman called Lady Lazarus; I reckon her father, affluent and dead, was a fan of Plath. Indianapolis was fortified more than most with its high walls, and its wall men, and its underground facilities which produced substantial ammunition. We—me and Billy’s revenant—were travelling with a group of traders we’d taken up with from out west; they called themselves wizards and although they seemed of the occult, their spirits discounted whatever suspicions I might’ve had of them.
I remember first pushing through that big gate; the town kept with it an indisputable malaise and though we were greeted at the gate by the leader Lady Lazarus—her brothers came along with her—and her jovial demeanor carried a certain infectious quality, I could not help but notice that the regular denizens maintained a healthy distance from their leader (the guards which followed the Lady everywhere probably had something to do with this).
Lady Lazarus touched each of our hands in greeting with enthusiasm and I could not help but notice how soft they were, how vibrant her eyes were, how much she smiled, and how beautiful she was given her age; already her head was fully gray.
Upon meeting each of us, going through the wizard traders first, she came to me, and Billy and she shook my hand then pivoted to Billy.
“Welcome. You can call me Lady.”
Billy caught her hand in his, held it longer than she’d intended so that they held eye contact, and he smiled broadly, tipped the cowboy hat on his head back to expose his smooth forehead and said, “And you can call me Maron, mam. You are quite a sight for a tired man.”
Though Maron—as he’d named himself—was more boy than man, Lady took a disturbed liking to him immediately and we prolonged our stay in Indianapolis after the wizards departed to head west.
Under the rule of Lady, Indianapolis was a theocracy, with her addressing the huddled masses at the steps of her grand abode, she’d preach for hours on sin and strife and quote her favorite passages; though reminiscent of my time with the Rednecks, I never found any truth or sincerity or freedom in her teaching—hers was more trouble, brimstone, fire and I’d had enough of that for a lifetime. Public execution was common. As was torture.
Maron distanced himself further from me, but I remained to keep an eye on him—it was not sentimentality but rather I existed without purpose and conjured some from watching my brother.
Often, Lady invited Maron to her private rooms and though the rumors and speculation ran the full spectrum of perverse speculation, every denizen feigned ignorance at her pregnancy.
Upon giving birth, the infant was malformed with two heads—her brothers took this as an omen and killed the child, put their leader in the stocks for months, and stripped her of dignity while the denizens did to her what they pleased.
Maron rose through the wall men while Lady’s brothers assumed control of Indianapolis and called themselves Bosses; in the time since Lady’s reign, the place was renamed to Golgotha for its closeness to a messiah.
I went west but always found myself drawn back to Golgotha because of some emptiness in me. It was only with Suzanne that I wanted something more and knowing them, I almost believed in a world like the one that children dream about. The world that Gemma and Andrew chased after when they left home, like the one Aggie talked about in her mother’s books. There’s a hopelessness in me that I’ll never be rid of. In the interim between our initial arrival to Golgotha and that flight from that terrible city, I cannot know how many people I sacrificed in convening with demons because I refuse to know because the number would destroy me. That is the worst of it; I do not even have courage enough to face myself or the actions of my past in any substantive way.
Mephisto tainted me so that I could speak with his kind as a dealmaker and the disease grew.
Billy or Maron or whatever he is should have been reaped long ago or better, I should never have brought that abomination alive. Such a cruel world where a deep longing like that can be inverted, weaponized. Me and him should both die; me and him should have died a long time ago.
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Gemma was right about the sky’s open night, and I could sympathize with her recollection of the beauty, but for me it must’ve been a greater tragedy—the young woman had only ever enjoyed the stars in the pits of Golgotha; I could, long before, drink in the sky at leisure. Cruel memories.
The night the Rednecks died was one of viscera, but before that it was coolness on the breeze, a warmth by the fires while John played his guitar and we had only just taken two dozen kegs of lager (personal reserves) from the Atlanta despot—the man that kept his subjects as slaves and not a person among the camp was left without budding intoxication. No matter the age, everyone was invited to be merry; if it was that children too faced the plight of a bad world, then so too should they reap the moments of plenty—or so the camp figured.
John had taken a group by the fires where wagons were drawn in interlocking semicircles for cover and Jackson sat beside the picker. Jackson was a man which normally preferred quiet reflection over boisterous singing and nearly never wore the band on his throat, and yet there he was belting out the chorus at the top of his lungs, tankard in hand, red cloth blazed around his neck—it was a contagion and those drunk enough for easier embarrassment sang proudly along:
“There is power, there is power in a band of working folk!
When we stand hand in hand,
That’s a power, that’s the power,
That must rule in every land!”
I’d taken to the outlying shadows with my back pressed against the gas-powered caleche, my own tankard in hand. I loved the warmth of that great big family, truly, but even in those days—and maybe it was that queer youthfulness which longed for individualism that made me that way then—I remained as distanced as possible when I could. I sipped the lager, it was a fine drink and my brother Billy, nearly as old as I was when I’d first taken up in the infantry, swaggered to stand beside me just as quiet for minutes and we looked at the stars and he asked me what it was like to kill a man.
“Is it hard?” he asked.
I nodded, “Sometimes.”
“Killing monsters ain’t so bad. Don’t know if I could do it to a person.”
“You could if they meant to kill you; or if they meant to do it to someone you cared about,” I promised him. In those days, spry, energized, I held no time for staring into abysses; though I still wasn’t a man fully, I pretended as one. It was about family, and it was about doing what was right—what’s right seemed to change, or I changed. The world felt stark with good and evil and even later I’d feel that sentiment well up in me, but if that’s true, I know I stand more on the latter and so I intentionally obfuscated it—this I know. If not, it might be too much to bear. I was required to lie to myself and even in knowing I lied, it was better.
Billy tugged on the red kerchief around his throat and asked me how it looked on him.
“Looks good,” I said.
“Don’t think I look stupid at all?”
I smiled over my drink, “You always look stupid.” I sipped. “The neckwear’s fine.”
“Give me a break,” said Billy; he investigated his own cup, gave it a swish with his wrist, watching its contents swirl. “Aren’t you ever afraid you’ll die?”
“Sometimes—nights like this—I wouldn’t mind it.”
“Really?” my brother asked.
“There’s always a chance of it. Every moment, I guess.”
He smiled. “I wish I had that confidence.”
“You’ll get it,” I returned his smile; it was true that he would gain the fighting spirit. It came to us all with time and reminiscing on the early days, I recall the grit and the hatred—there was learning there too though. Besides, I’d seen the squalors of a stationary man. The stagnation of a place, an unmoving home.
John put his guitar away and laughter erupted from the crowd from something said and Sibylle, cowboy hat cocked funny, traipsed across the camp to the open keg for a refill; the man there, tending the cylinders, was a man named Tandy (a foreigner and one unknown besides the way he smoked a skunk pipe and told wild stories). My mother leaned over while Tandy opened the spigot mouth on the keg, and she froze there, and I could see her there cut out forever against the light of the fires; I watched, and it came so suddenly that I couldn’t be sure what’d happened at all. It was so sudden that I couldn’t find my weapon and I couldn’t find even the courage to fight because in those moments it wasn’t courage I needed, it was grounds to understand.
Sibylle came apart in two pieces immediately, torn completely through and dust erupted as her legs struck the ground while her torso spun through the air like a top, a trail of liquid trailed after, caught in the blue of night so it shone as black; she couldn’t scream. Tandy was a statue. Before anyone could react, more flesh, other bodies, went up and there was all manner of limbs which filled the ground, and it is astounding how quickly a red mist forms across the ground during a massacre. Perhaps the wails of my comrades started before, perhaps others fell before Sibylle, but I could not comprehend the goings-on till I saw her drop the way she did.
Frail human screams rose on the night; I slammed to the ground, tankard gone away and hands scrambling in the dirt; I reached up blindly and yanked Billy to my level and his expression was one of innocence, panic, tears even. Glancing around, I saw the demons bolt from the pitch-black darkness on the edges of camp, mutants taking the fore while greater creatures lurked further back, some hurled whips of gliding metal which writhed over their heads when they stretched them out for a strike—alien—and they sliced directly through soft human bodies. Not even a cry escaped me, but Billy let go with it and I slapped my cupped hand over his mouth hard to hold the screams. His voice would not have been alone anyway, not alongside that startling cacophony. Amidst the cries of people, there were the cries of horses, of our hounds.
We rolled across the ground, slipped beneath the raised body of the gas-powered caleche, remained quiet in the dark, peeked out between the wheels.
“What’s happening?” Billy whispered through my fingers; I removed my hand from him and caught a glimpse of him framed in a square of firelight through the wheels—we lay there on our bellies and the left side of his face was glazed with dirt where I’d pulled him down.
“Shh,” I told him, “Shh, please. Please.” Not another word came while I pleaded with him, pleaded with the world to make this all a nightmare.
Through the haze and the running silhouettes painted black, I saw what might have been Jackson; he stumbled and in the moment that it took me to gasp, his head was gone from his body, his torso slid on as he collapsed, came to rest mere feet from the motor wagon. I told myself that it wasn’t him, but it probably was.
Some mutants lumbered through the camp like animated corpses, some leapt with wild energy or sprayed noxious fumes which lingered in the air; others still were amalgams of humanlike limbs themselves—fiends—exhausting terrible sounds, producing smells of sulfur, glistening with whatever liquids excreted from their oblong alien orifices. Demons ran amok, chanted in devil tongued languages, laughed madly at the destruction—others still, those which displayed some greater intelligence, broke into a song I could never hope or want to replicate; it seemed a unified damnation.
“Please,” I repeated in a whimper and Billy hushed me this time and I realized we were holding hands, squeezing for dear life as figures walked the camp, speared those half-alive, elected others for twisted carnality.
In darkness, in fright plainly, we scuttled from the recess of our hiding place, kept quiet, held to each other, and went into the wasteland where nothing was—every shadow was a potential threat, every second could’ve been the last. We were holding hands; then we weren’t.
Only a glance—that’s all I afforded my brother and nothing more—what a joke of a person I am! What a coward I was. Always.
Something got him in the dark and instead of dying alongside those I cared about, I went on, heartbeat driving me till it was all that I heard in my ears and my muscles ached and my chest heaved and sweat covered me, chilled me in the breeze of the night—it was only once I’d accepted the dark completely, crawled into a hollowed space of rocks along a squat ridge that I watched the demolished camp; it seemed no larger than a spark, but the creatures, fiends and others continued their war cries; never before had I witnessed demons participate in such an attack.
I watched till the sun came, till the fires became smoke, then I watched the band of hell creatures disband. The smell of sulfur remained in the air—copper too—and I stumbled back to the camp in a dreamlike daze, totally unbelieving of the things I saw. Among those dead on the ground, I could recognize none; among those piked from rear to shoulder, standing like morbid scarecrows where they’d been steadied against the ground, I could not want to recognize.
Many of the wagons were overturned, including the gas-powered caleche and I went to it; the metal of its body was warped but I fell to the ground by it and pushed my back against the exposed undercarriage, remained frozen there while examining the bodies, the terrible strips of skin which rested places like wet sheets of paper, the piles of bones removed and smashed and piled.
I cried so deeply that oxygen became a memory, and the shakes couldn’t be contained.
It was like that for so long, knees pulled up, face pushed between, and the wails came unafraid of whatever attention they might garner; there was no rationale, but I imagine if there had been, I would’ve welcomed death in that misery. It was a deep wound that not even my own cowardice would overcome for the sake of survival.
Unaware of my surroundings, not wanting to look up from the ground between my legs, the noise which had started out as imaginary became real and I raised my head then to listen better and wipe my sore eyes; it was the sound of clip-clop horse hooves and I mildly wondered if any of the animals had been spared. I stood and pivoted around the dead camp and there it was, a man on a painted horse with golden hair; he leisurely drove the mount through the place, maneuvering around pools of blood, clumps of body parts and upon seeing me, he smiled and offered a languid wave, keeping one of his gloved hands on the reins.
The man wore white and swished his hair back upon arriving directly in front of me. Ahoy, he offered kindly, Did you happen to see the other riders?
I shook my head, feeling numb.
Ah, he said, I could have sworn four other riders, at least, passed me on my way. His gray eyes examined the carnage. Shame. He shook his head. You are?
“H-harlan.”
He nodded and nearly offered an expression of genuine condolence before descending from the horse; the animal gave a gentle grunt and wandered away from its master to inspect a nearby group of the dead. The man offered his hand, and I took it in a shake. Mephisto, said the man. He flashed a smile again before his face grew serious. I’ve come to you to deal.
I shot him a questioning look, one of bafflement.
I heard your calls from far off. He nodded, removed a white handkerchief from his breast pocket and swiped it down his face. Hot out. He shrugged then replaced the cloth in his pocket. This, he motioned to the disarray of vehicles, of bodies, I can’t fix all this—it’s too much—but there’s a person you love, I know. I could bring them back.
“Doctor?” In retrospect it was such a naïve question.
He shook his head.
“Angel?”
He grinned and nodded, Sure.
“Demon?”
Undoubtedly. His eyes—pits of gray in that radiant face—nearly expressed solemness; he daintily shook the hair from his face and looked at his steed which sniffed a corpse. What’s the word, Harlan? There are others calling and I must be on my way soon—I can’t dally. There was a sharpness to the words. Can’t dally. We must convene soon, or I’ll mosey on.
I snorted back the clog in my nose from the tears and wiped my eyes with my sleeves. “Okay.”
Deal?
I nodded, “Deal.”
Sleep tonight, said Mephisto, Sleep and you’ll be rewarded in the morning.
“You said it’s a deal.”
He nodded and scanned the carnage before we matched gazes and then he said, Yes?
“What is it you want from me?”
Nothing you need now. He called the horse, and it came, and he swept his feet quickly from the ground and settled into position atop the animal. Sleep, Harlan. You won’t be bothered. There are worse things still over the horizon.
I watched him go till he disappeared and once he was gone, I couldn’t cry anymore and instead rummaged through the wagons for what I might carry; along the way I found John, face twisted but corpse intact. The body from the previous night that I’d guessed was Jackson couldn’t be determined but I found him nowhere else. I slid Sibylle’s holster from her hips, fell hard onto the ground and found that I could sob more. I took her cowboy hat, placed it on my head and held her pistol in one hand and the belt holster dangled from the other while I searched the other bodies; there were so many, but I could not find Billy.
Waiting for darkness, I took the spot where I rested, back against the caleche’s undercarriage, watched the sky and felt the gun in my hand; it was heavy. I put it to my head, closed my eyes, and whispered affirmations to myself then I put the pistol between my splayed legs, watched it still in the dirt, and pulled the hat down over my eyes but it did little for the smell. Though the brim of the hat cut the sky out, I watched the ground and saw circling shadows form overhead and heard calls of turkey vultures; they came to pick over the bodies. I withdrew my knees to my chest there again and laid my forearm across them and bit into my arm while closing my eyes. I had thought I was a man and for a time, maybe I was, but there in that miserable pit of despair I became a child again and if I’d become more delirious, I’m sure I might’ve called out for Jackson like it was a bad dream.
Into a fading stupor of sleep in the sun I went and when I awoke again it was dark and chilly and I was tired and hungry but too sick to eat and hardly strong enough to move; I looked at the gun and put it into its holster and left it there by the caleche. In the light of the moon and stars, I moved to gather a bolt of canvas; I unfurled the fabric and created a leaning shelter against the overturned vehicle and crawled into it. There was a hole in the canvas, and I peeked out at the stars.
Weeping came again, but not so uproarious; I was stuck there letting go of whimpers, lying on my back, feeling the tears trace in lines from the outer corners of my eyes to collect along my earlobes. In time, I fell to sleep again on the hard ground because the mourning had taken all else from me.
A pinpoint of sunlight broke my eyelids and I jerked awake and reached for the holster, but it was gone. So was the hat. I crawled from the leaning shelter and there he was.
Billy stood plainly among the dried, congealed blood-soaked field and he looked on to the horizon and all shadows were long in the midday sun which hung up there in a soft blue sky. Whether it be a dream or a spell, I couldn’t care—I charged to him and spun him so he faced me and though his face was plain and expressionless, I wrapped him into a forceful hug. He placed his hands on my back and gave a gentle squeeze; when I pulled from him, my hands on his shoulders, I saw he held Sibylle’s hat in his left hand, pinched by the brim; he’d already tugged her holster belt around his hips—he could have it all. I shook while holding him then let go to wipe my face.
“You’re alive,” I nodded.
He nodded without speaking then looked at the hat in his hand and placed it on his head and firmly pressed it down.
“Billy! Hell, you’re alive!”
The corners of his mouth twitched upward for a moment then he nodded again. “Yeah.” His eyes curiously searched our surroundings like he meant to take each detail in forever.
I slapped him on the shoulder and almost squealed. “Goddammit.” I wiped my eyes again and could do little to keep the excitement from exploding from me. “Oh, we should go. We should go on and get somewhere safe.”
He nodded toward the horizon, “’Lanta?”
“Sure.”
We packed and it was a like an ethereal phantom remained among us beside the quiet dead; turkey vultures cawed to break the silence, pecked where they pleased on the bodies, and I couldn’t want to fight them. I kept sidelong eyes on Billy with the ever-present worry that he’d vanish. Perhaps he was the phantom.
From the rear of the caleche, I removed a few sentimental books Jackson liked, essential cookware, and sparse rations for the trek. The last thing I grabbed was my shotgun and a bit of ammo.
As we set from the dead place, the terrible silhouettes that were cut from there on the horizon behind us grew in my mind with every backward glance—I wanted to fall to pieces, but I saw Billy walk alongside me and although contented is not the right word, it is the nearest. The steps of our boots were all that was heard because I could not fathom to pierce the space between us with words for fear that it would all end. It was a dream, surely. I’d lost my mind. With my hands thumbed into the straps of my pack, I saw I my hands still shook, and they would shake a lot longer—years and with memories too. The crunch of earth underfoot became a rhythm and instead of looking at my brother, I watched his shadow on the ground.
“Everyone’s dead?” He asked.
“Yeah.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah,” I repeated.
“How ain’t I? How ain’t you?”
To say that it was luck would’ve been too morbid. Instead of saying anything, I shrugged, kicked a loose stone, watched my feet some more, and felt a queasiness come over me. For the moment, the immeasurable deaths of those I’d left behind were forgotten in the company of my brother and a sickness welled up inside of me so suddenly that I felt that I’d fall to pieces at the slightest provocation. Finally, I did speak again, but only after steeling myself to the troubles, “Yeah, how are you alive?”
Billy shrugged at me then stumbled up a hill which overlooked trash wood wilderness where sticks lay twisted and bare and further on the sight of Atlanta was visible and I cupped a hand across my brow and Billy did the same and we looked on at the shadows of the place out there where strings of smoke rose from the skyline as a signature for the desolation of the city; it was dead. I felt it in my bones.
My hands were light while my head was heavy, my throat was dry, and the entire world seized in moments of stillness or perhaps it was my own vision which construed the world in that way; I took to the small hill which Billy had climbed and sat there and stared at the place between my feet to steady myself.
“Fire,” said Billy.
I nodded and nearly choked.
Leviathan—till then I had no belief in dragons—glided over the broken city, its winged shadow little seen but its voice was deep across the scene, letting go of roars which shook the ground. We hid among the trash wood and moved down the hill and watched the creature thrash in the air as if it was angry for its abominable life. Whatever millennia it spent in the pits of hell seemingly thrust upon it a love of destruction and pain.
My brother moved with a more assured stride and kept a cool distance and upon fleeing from the wreckage, from the outlying area of Atlanta and the place we’d left our family, he spoke little and watched me strangely whenever I took to melancholic fatiguing. We lit no fires for fear of what it could draw from the night so in the dark I’d see him watching some far-off place, maybe seeing through the reality which surrounded us, and he’d snap from it, catch my eye, and disappear for minutes to scan the perimeter of whatever place we stayed. Being alongside my resurrected brother was lonelier than I could bear, and I hoped he’d disappear for good or that I could work up the courage to end my own life. It was like purgatory explained in books and for a time, it felt endless; upon witnessing the destruction of Atlanta, we pushed to Marrietta, and it was much the same. As was Chatanooga, Nashville, Knoxville, Louisville, Charlotte. The ocean had risen so that Fayetville was gone underwater, and the Florida leg disappeared completely as far as I’m aware. I understood later that Memphis was overlooked and more places further west were alive too, but when we’d exhausted the south, we moved north and found strongholds of families or traders or even small groupings of civilization, but by and large we found nothing much in the two years that we hoofed it from place to place; it was my doing mostly—I wanted to find a place untouched by the mayhem in the area my family had once patrolled.
In retrospect, I am certain that Billy only stayed by my side for convenience; there wasn’t any of my brother left in the man that was my travelling companion for that time. He was a ghost of a person and Mephisto had preyed upon my desire in the worst moment of weakness in my life. There were nights—maybe we’d taken up in a natural alcove for shelter or we’d locked ourselves in some ancient structure for sleep—I’d watch Billy lay where he was, Sibylle’s hat and holster lying beside him, and I’d think of putting him down but he’d stir and in a brief shadow I’d see my brother as he’d been and withdraw to bury my face in fake sleep to be met with images of the night the demons attacked where I’d shake, sweat, and bite my lips so hard I’d drink blood.
Two years we marched around the Appalachians and in that time, I felt myself wither and disconnect.
Upon moving further north we met Indianapolis—that’s what it was called back then—and it was run by an older woman called Lady Lazarus; I reckon her father, affluent and dead, was a fan of Plath. Indianapolis was fortified more than most with its high walls, and its wall men, and its underground facilities which produced substantial ammunition. We—me and Billy’s revenant—were travelling with a group of traders we’d taken up with from out west; they called themselves wizards and although they seemed of the occult, their spirits discounted whatever suspicions I might’ve had of them.
I remember first pushing through that big gate; the town kept with it an indisputable malaise and though we were greeted at the gate by the leader Lady Lazarus—her brothers came along with her—and her jovial demeanor carried a certain infectious quality, I could not help but notice that the regular denizens maintained a healthy distance from their leader (the guards which followed the Lady everywhere probably had something to do with this).
Lady Lazarus touched each of our hands in greeting with enthusiasm and I could not help but notice how soft they were, how vibrant her eyes were, how much she smiled, and how beautiful she was given her age; already her head was fully gray.
Upon meeting each of us, going through the wizard traders first, she came to me, and Billy and she shook my hand then pivoted to Billy.
“Welcome. You can call me Lady.”
Billy caught her hand in his, held it longer than she’d intended so that they held eye contact, and he smiled broadly, tipped the cowboy hat on his head back to expose his smooth forehead and said, “And you can call me Maron, mam. You are quite a sight for a tired man.”
Though Maron—as he’d named himself—was more boy than man, Lady took a disturbed liking to him immediately and we prolonged our stay in Indianapolis after the wizards departed to head west.
Under the rule of Lady, Indianapolis was a theocracy, with her addressing the huddled masses at the steps of her grand abode, she’d preach for hours on sin and strife and quote her favorite passages; though reminiscent of my time with the Rednecks, I never found any truth or sincerity or freedom in her teaching—hers was more trouble, brimstone, fire and I’d had enough of that for a lifetime. Public execution was common. As was torture.
Maron distanced himself further from me, but I remained to keep an eye on him—it was not sentimentality but rather I existed without purpose and conjured some from watching my brother.
Often, Lady invited Maron to her private rooms and though the rumors and speculation ran the full spectrum of perverse speculation, every denizen feigned ignorance at her pregnancy.
Upon giving birth, the infant was malformed with two heads—her brothers took this as an omen and killed the child, put their leader in the stocks for months, and stripped her of dignity while the denizens did to her what they pleased.
Maron rose through the wall men while Lady’s brothers assumed control of Indianapolis and called themselves Bosses; in the time since Lady’s reign, the place was renamed to Golgotha for its closeness to a messiah.
I went west but always found myself drawn back to Golgotha because of some emptiness in me. It was only with Suzanne that I wanted something more and knowing them, I almost believed in a world like the one that children dream about. The world that Gemma and Andrew chased after when they left home, like the one Aggie talked about in her mother’s books. There’s a hopelessness in me that I’ll never be rid of. In the interim between our initial arrival to Golgotha and that flight from that terrible city, I cannot know how many people I sacrificed in convening with demons because I refuse to know because the number would destroy me. That is the worst of it; I do not even have courage enough to face myself or the actions of my past in any substantive way.
Mephisto tainted me so that I could speak with his kind as a dealmaker and the disease grew.
Billy or Maron or whatever he is should have been reaped long ago or better, I should never have brought that abomination alive. Such a cruel world where a deep longing like that can be inverted, weaponized. Me and him should both die; me and him should have died a long time ago.
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2024.05.17 09:46 tiduzzo Your most valuable tip as ADC to a new player?
Hello guys. I know that part of the fun on a game is learn from mistake, and I guarantee you that I will still do hundred of hours of mistakes, but what I'm trying to do here is bypass some time-wasting experience or even develops terrible habits that I'll have to unlearn later on.
I'm still level 14 and from what I can see on the competitive scene, the ADC role seems to be the pinnacle of damages and difference between losing or winning a match (and then there is k'sante, but he seems to be an exception to the rule 😂).
So, with your diamond, master or higher rank, and hundreds or thousands of hours of experience, what would you ask yourself to do/learn if you were playing the game for the first time again?
For example, I right click into enemy while pressing C to check my range, because I can't figure to use attack move properly, but at the same is hard to keep pressing C and also tap on spell. Or should I spent dozen of hours in the train room for last hitting, before starting with normal queue? Another thing that I really find hard to do is kiting at low level/itemization, because I spam step-attack to a point that I cancel all of my auto attacks because my attack speed is nowhere near to be high enough.
Anyway these are few example of things that I recognize myself to be wrong (even if I still don't know how to properly execute or fix them) but you probably can give me your lifetime hint that can be game changer to me.
For records, I enjoy playing stuff like tristana, jinx or senna... (I love Zeri too but my mind can't figure that I can attack both with autos and Q) Probably because I feel like they are late game monsters, or maybe because they get strong at a certain phase of the game and I don't even realize that's happening.
Anyway thanks in advance for your tips.
submitted by tiduzzo to ADCMains [link] [comments]
I'm still level 14 and from what I can see on the competitive scene, the ADC role seems to be the pinnacle of damages and difference between losing or winning a match (and then there is k'sante, but he seems to be an exception to the rule 😂).
So, with your diamond, master or higher rank, and hundreds or thousands of hours of experience, what would you ask yourself to do/learn if you were playing the game for the first time again?
For example, I right click into enemy while pressing C to check my range, because I can't figure to use attack move properly, but at the same is hard to keep pressing C and also tap on spell. Or should I spent dozen of hours in the train room for last hitting, before starting with normal queue? Another thing that I really find hard to do is kiting at low level/itemization, because I spam step-attack to a point that I cancel all of my auto attacks because my attack speed is nowhere near to be high enough.
Anyway these are few example of things that I recognize myself to be wrong (even if I still don't know how to properly execute or fix them) but you probably can give me your lifetime hint that can be game changer to me.
For records, I enjoy playing stuff like tristana, jinx or senna... (I love Zeri too but my mind can't figure that I can attack both with autos and Q) Probably because I feel like they are late game monsters, or maybe because they get strong at a certain phase of the game and I don't even realize that's happening.
Anyway thanks in advance for your tips.
2024.05.17 09:38 BlackIvoryPAAC Stuckism, Punk & Heckel's Horse - extract from interview with Other Muswell Hill Stuckist founder
Read the full interview at https://edgeworth.blog/2024/04/27/me-a-doll-interview/
PUG: Jompiy are quite a lot like Damien Hirst’s spin paintings.
EJ: I liked his figurative paintings that Tate didn’t include any of, in that solo show that had virtually everything else he’d ever done. I think Tate will be showing Heckel’s Horse before long.
PUG: What makes you think that?
EJ: It would be poetic. Darth Vadar comes to his senses and everyone’s rescue. There’ll probably be some new maverick Director that comes along and wants to make an easy name for herself.
PUG: How about a Heckel’s Horse Jr. show there instead? I liked the Heckel’s Horse Jr. book.
EJ: Thanks. They’re currently available to all our Fan Club members on Tiers 2 and 3. If someone was interested in finding out more, all they’d have to do is simply visit https://blackivory.org/fan-club/
PUG: Is there anything planned for Heckel’s Horse?
EJ: As far as I can tell, it’s on the back burner till whoever’s in charge decides the time’s right for a show. Billy’s been trying to push things along for years, pretty much since we started doing them.
PUG: You need this new Tate Director.
EJ: We need someone to forcibly step in with the interest, clout and balls to act irrespective of any commercial consequence or fretting what the art world and its clientele think. Like some benevolent Stuckist ex-hedge fund manager who says “Let’s do a show because of all that stuff in the Stuckism manifesto.”
PUG: Like a hostile takeover. Might Heckel’s Horse Jr. being published speed things along for Heckel’s Horse?
EJ: Apparantly the opposite. It might put them off, but whatever. It shouldn’t be all beholden to any audience thing. There needs to be a punk movement in Contemporary Art. Like Black Ivory but slightly more influential. None of this prissy “We’re not allowed to do this, we’re not allowed to do that. The clients might not like this, the clients might not like that.” I don’t know anything about how the art world functions but there’s an obvious staleness and near-universal obedience to it. Then you get things like Stuckism or our semi-Stuckist-splinter-group Black Ivory that, like opt out of the audience as target idea. That are happy to be a disgrace. I think they asked the bass player from the Manics what it was like walking around dressed up in their band gear, round their local working-class mining village in skirts and makeup, and he says “We just wanted to be hated.” I like that about Stuckism and the seemingly repellent and toe-curling bridge-burning stuff we do. The term “target audience” is business talk for a reason. Target audiences are for things like Persil Automatic, not artists. Artists worrying about this stuff is just depressing and I guess is all counter-productive to what they’re after anyway.
PUG: How would it be counter-productive?
EJ: Because it’s like some saggy-headed donkey that’s given up. Part of the shuffling crowd, which is shame if your art isn’t. Not believing in yourself. That’s how it all looks to me anyway. When I see photos of Stuckists prancing around in clown costumes outside Tate it’s so appealing. They’re building walls between themselves and the people everyone else is so desperate to be approved by.
PUG: So can Black Ivory save Contemporary Art?
EJ: We’ll stack a load of six footer Heckel’s Horse Jr. paintings against the walls. A few in the front room with the sofas, tables and chairs and whatnot. I’ll be walking round with a full teapot. Invite some friends round and do it as Stuckism would do it. Leave the evidence on our YouTube channel as Van Goghian proof for future generations that today’s Contemporary Art wasn’t just the text book stuff.
PUG: Stuckism was quite punk influenced but the art world’s still largely what it was beforehand.
EJ: Stuckism bothered. Like leading a horse to water. It’s like even the anti-establishment are only considered successful when the establishment accept them. The Other Muswell Hill Stuckists should do a manifesto about it. Stuckism‘s not for our benefit, it’s for yours. Our “failures” are your problem. We’re waking up and painting either way. We don’t need the art world. We don’t need the Turner Prize to show us what a decent painting looks like. I’m only talking about it not shaking up the artworld obviously, not the work or anything important, but like we’ve both done loads of Stuckist Turner Prize demos, published a Stuckist Turner Prize manifesto, as far as I know, the Turner Prize is still going strong. So what? Did the demos fail? Are our paintings worse now? If nothing else, it’s nice to get out the house. I like the Turner Prize demos because it’s like getting bashed on both sides. By the establishment and the hipsters. Usually it’s like, choose a team: brand A or brand B and kid yourself there’s a difference. The establishment think they’re winning and the hipsters think they’re cool and anti-establishment. Stuckism chooses neither, which I see as the only real anti-establishment. Stuckism‘s failures, if anything, proove its success becuase punk succeeded in it’s non-musical objectives, it became chart music. No chance of Stuckism falling for that one. How’s that for a theory? Failure isn’t failure. Failure’s success because failure’s longevity and success is failure. Stuckism‘s a roaring failure.
PUG: A new punk Tate for Heckel’s Horse.
EJ: I did some assistant work for Jimmy Cauty years ago, on these glittery riot shields. I think around 2016. The tracksuit bottoms still have the gold glitter and PVA stuck to them. I can’t remember if I was talking about Heckel’s Horse or something else, but Billy and I couldn’t have done too many by then. It might have been something else, but I tell Jimmy we’ve done all this work and nothing’s getting published, and he says ‘So, when’s the bonfire?’ The man who burned a million pounds. Ten years later, he we are, same situation. Thankfully, as far as I’m aware, still no bonfire. So overall, things are going great for Heckel’s Horse. All the paintings are still probably in existence.
PUG: Just a lot more of them now.
EJ: I’ve got this image of Heckel’s Horse paintings being taken at night to some secret billionaires island off the South Kent coast and chucked on a blazing fire with a load of men in white suits standing round drinking champagne, each with a cigar between their teeth going ‘Ha! Ha! Fuck you Edgeworth!’
PUG: Then there’d just be the Heckel’s Horse Jr.’s left and you could sell them for millions.
EJ: You’re a genius.
PUG: All those paintings will end up in a show at some point.
EJ: It’s been eleven years. Could be another twenty, thirty. I had this paranoia, they’d pretend they were by Billy and cut my name out. If Billy and I aren’t around. Even if I’m still around, who’s going to listen to me?
PUG: Do you reckon?
EJ: I don’t even know who it was, but some lying fart-face decided it would be alright to pretend these monoprints Billy and I collaborated on would be better sold off as ‘by Billy Childish’ and not by both of us. So that’s what happened. Like a click of the fingers, “Bye bye Edgeworth.” Pretty unimpressive, I thought.
PUG: Didn’t you say anything?
EJ: No, what’s going to happen? Better to say nothing then moan about it ten years later. The way I see it, I’m not the one lying so it’s not my problem. Do you know what I mean? It shouldn’t be on me to object if they’re doing it on purpose.
PUG: So it’s not like Damien Hirst and his assistant’s painting butterflies.
EJ: No. It’s sort of, not wanting to flatter the people that erased my attribution with the idea they’re worth bothering with. Because it’s not like I was upset or felt hard done by. It was just disillusionment in one thing, addressed by the creation of another, Black Ivory Printmaking & Audio Club. If anything it’s a net positve. “So that’s the kind of people you really are. What a fantastic opportunity!”
Damien Hirst’s different. It’s all declared and everyone knows the deal. There’s nothing dodgy about it. It’s not like some slippery gallerist-type shifts the goalposts after the works done, like they’ve got some licence to change the truth. The buyers know what they’re buying, the artists know what they’re doing. These monoprints were a thick painterly transfer technique I came up with and haven’t seen anywhere else. Until I see any that look similar, as far as I’m concerned, it’s a type of monoprint of my invention. And they think they can just sign that away from me. If people see mine now, the ones I did independently using the same technique, they’ll probably think I copied it from Billy, which I think’s quite a liberty. “Taking Berty’s.” as we said at school.
PUG: Didn’t they ask you about it first?
EJ: No, I just get emailed after with some apparent excuse. If you’re some no-name pushover like me, I guess they think it’s alright. It might all have been a lot more innocent than it looked from my end, but if they’re like this with some few hundred quid monoprints, what’s it going to be like with all these crates of 6ft paintings that are worth a fortune? Not exactly reassuring to think of Heckel’s Horse in these people’s hands.
PUG: Welcome to the art world.
EJ: It might end up for the best. A lot of why I started doing Heckel’s Horse Jr. was to get the Heckel’s Horse story out the door. A lots been done already. Billy and I want to get Heckel’s Horse paintings in front of people. Billy‘s spoken about it in interviews that I’ve super-glue-referenced into the Billy Childish wikipedia page. L-13 have done a load of prints. Things are going pretty well. The less behind-the-scenes Heckel’s Horse is, the harder I guess it is for the truth to get fudged later. Especially if Billy and I aren’t around by the time anything happens.
PUG: You’ve always got Jompiy.
EJ: Yeah, my solid backup plan. I don’t need to worry about Jompiy getting nicked.
Read the full interview at https://edgeworth.blog/2024/04/27/me-a-doll-interview/
https://youtu.be/aWN2dAleE14
submitted by BlackIvoryPAAC to BlackIvory [link] [comments]
PUG: Jompiy are quite a lot like Damien Hirst’s spin paintings.
EJ: I liked his figurative paintings that Tate didn’t include any of, in that solo show that had virtually everything else he’d ever done. I think Tate will be showing Heckel’s Horse before long.
PUG: What makes you think that?
EJ: It would be poetic. Darth Vadar comes to his senses and everyone’s rescue. There’ll probably be some new maverick Director that comes along and wants to make an easy name for herself.
PUG: How about a Heckel’s Horse Jr. show there instead? I liked the Heckel’s Horse Jr. book.
EJ: Thanks. They’re currently available to all our Fan Club members on Tiers 2 and 3. If someone was interested in finding out more, all they’d have to do is simply visit https://blackivory.org/fan-club/
PUG: Is there anything planned for Heckel’s Horse?
EJ: As far as I can tell, it’s on the back burner till whoever’s in charge decides the time’s right for a show. Billy’s been trying to push things along for years, pretty much since we started doing them.
PUG: You need this new Tate Director.
EJ: We need someone to forcibly step in with the interest, clout and balls to act irrespective of any commercial consequence or fretting what the art world and its clientele think. Like some benevolent Stuckist ex-hedge fund manager who says “Let’s do a show because of all that stuff in the Stuckism manifesto.”
PUG: Like a hostile takeover. Might Heckel’s Horse Jr. being published speed things along for Heckel’s Horse?
EJ: Apparantly the opposite. It might put them off, but whatever. It shouldn’t be all beholden to any audience thing. There needs to be a punk movement in Contemporary Art. Like Black Ivory but slightly more influential. None of this prissy “We’re not allowed to do this, we’re not allowed to do that. The clients might not like this, the clients might not like that.” I don’t know anything about how the art world functions but there’s an obvious staleness and near-universal obedience to it. Then you get things like Stuckism or our semi-Stuckist-splinter-group Black Ivory that, like opt out of the audience as target idea. That are happy to be a disgrace. I think they asked the bass player from the Manics what it was like walking around dressed up in their band gear, round their local working-class mining village in skirts and makeup, and he says “We just wanted to be hated.” I like that about Stuckism and the seemingly repellent and toe-curling bridge-burning stuff we do. The term “target audience” is business talk for a reason. Target audiences are for things like Persil Automatic, not artists. Artists worrying about this stuff is just depressing and I guess is all counter-productive to what they’re after anyway.
PUG: How would it be counter-productive?
EJ: Because it’s like some saggy-headed donkey that’s given up. Part of the shuffling crowd, which is shame if your art isn’t. Not believing in yourself. That’s how it all looks to me anyway. When I see photos of Stuckists prancing around in clown costumes outside Tate it’s so appealing. They’re building walls between themselves and the people everyone else is so desperate to be approved by.
PUG: So can Black Ivory save Contemporary Art?
EJ: We’ll stack a load of six footer Heckel’s Horse Jr. paintings against the walls. A few in the front room with the sofas, tables and chairs and whatnot. I’ll be walking round with a full teapot. Invite some friends round and do it as Stuckism would do it. Leave the evidence on our YouTube channel as Van Goghian proof for future generations that today’s Contemporary Art wasn’t just the text book stuff.
PUG: Stuckism was quite punk influenced but the art world’s still largely what it was beforehand.
EJ: Stuckism bothered. Like leading a horse to water. It’s like even the anti-establishment are only considered successful when the establishment accept them. The Other Muswell Hill Stuckists should do a manifesto about it. Stuckism‘s not for our benefit, it’s for yours. Our “failures” are your problem. We’re waking up and painting either way. We don’t need the art world. We don’t need the Turner Prize to show us what a decent painting looks like. I’m only talking about it not shaking up the artworld obviously, not the work or anything important, but like we’ve both done loads of Stuckist Turner Prize demos, published a Stuckist Turner Prize manifesto, as far as I know, the Turner Prize is still going strong. So what? Did the demos fail? Are our paintings worse now? If nothing else, it’s nice to get out the house. I like the Turner Prize demos because it’s like getting bashed on both sides. By the establishment and the hipsters. Usually it’s like, choose a team: brand A or brand B and kid yourself there’s a difference. The establishment think they’re winning and the hipsters think they’re cool and anti-establishment. Stuckism chooses neither, which I see as the only real anti-establishment. Stuckism‘s failures, if anything, proove its success becuase punk succeeded in it’s non-musical objectives, it became chart music. No chance of Stuckism falling for that one. How’s that for a theory? Failure isn’t failure. Failure’s success because failure’s longevity and success is failure. Stuckism‘s a roaring failure.
PUG: A new punk Tate for Heckel’s Horse.
EJ: I did some assistant work for Jimmy Cauty years ago, on these glittery riot shields. I think around 2016. The tracksuit bottoms still have the gold glitter and PVA stuck to them. I can’t remember if I was talking about Heckel’s Horse or something else, but Billy and I couldn’t have done too many by then. It might have been something else, but I tell Jimmy we’ve done all this work and nothing’s getting published, and he says ‘So, when’s the bonfire?’ The man who burned a million pounds. Ten years later, he we are, same situation. Thankfully, as far as I’m aware, still no bonfire. So overall, things are going great for Heckel’s Horse. All the paintings are still probably in existence.
PUG: Just a lot more of them now.
EJ: I’ve got this image of Heckel’s Horse paintings being taken at night to some secret billionaires island off the South Kent coast and chucked on a blazing fire with a load of men in white suits standing round drinking champagne, each with a cigar between their teeth going ‘Ha! Ha! Fuck you Edgeworth!’
PUG: Then there’d just be the Heckel’s Horse Jr.’s left and you could sell them for millions.
EJ: You’re a genius.
PUG: All those paintings will end up in a show at some point.
EJ: It’s been eleven years. Could be another twenty, thirty. I had this paranoia, they’d pretend they were by Billy and cut my name out. If Billy and I aren’t around. Even if I’m still around, who’s going to listen to me?
PUG: Do you reckon?
EJ: I don’t even know who it was, but some lying fart-face decided it would be alright to pretend these monoprints Billy and I collaborated on would be better sold off as ‘by Billy Childish’ and not by both of us. So that’s what happened. Like a click of the fingers, “Bye bye Edgeworth.” Pretty unimpressive, I thought.
PUG: Didn’t you say anything?
EJ: No, what’s going to happen? Better to say nothing then moan about it ten years later. The way I see it, I’m not the one lying so it’s not my problem. Do you know what I mean? It shouldn’t be on me to object if they’re doing it on purpose.
PUG: So it’s not like Damien Hirst and his assistant’s painting butterflies.
EJ: No. It’s sort of, not wanting to flatter the people that erased my attribution with the idea they’re worth bothering with. Because it’s not like I was upset or felt hard done by. It was just disillusionment in one thing, addressed by the creation of another, Black Ivory Printmaking & Audio Club. If anything it’s a net positve. “So that’s the kind of people you really are. What a fantastic opportunity!”
Damien Hirst’s different. It’s all declared and everyone knows the deal. There’s nothing dodgy about it. It’s not like some slippery gallerist-type shifts the goalposts after the works done, like they’ve got some licence to change the truth. The buyers know what they’re buying, the artists know what they’re doing. These monoprints were a thick painterly transfer technique I came up with and haven’t seen anywhere else. Until I see any that look similar, as far as I’m concerned, it’s a type of monoprint of my invention. And they think they can just sign that away from me. If people see mine now, the ones I did independently using the same technique, they’ll probably think I copied it from Billy, which I think’s quite a liberty. “Taking Berty’s.” as we said at school.
PUG: Didn’t they ask you about it first?
EJ: No, I just get emailed after with some apparent excuse. If you’re some no-name pushover like me, I guess they think it’s alright. It might all have been a lot more innocent than it looked from my end, but if they’re like this with some few hundred quid monoprints, what’s it going to be like with all these crates of 6ft paintings that are worth a fortune? Not exactly reassuring to think of Heckel’s Horse in these people’s hands.
PUG: Welcome to the art world.
EJ: It might end up for the best. A lot of why I started doing Heckel’s Horse Jr. was to get the Heckel’s Horse story out the door. A lots been done already. Billy and I want to get Heckel’s Horse paintings in front of people. Billy‘s spoken about it in interviews that I’ve super-glue-referenced into the Billy Childish wikipedia page. L-13 have done a load of prints. Things are going pretty well. The less behind-the-scenes Heckel’s Horse is, the harder I guess it is for the truth to get fudged later. Especially if Billy and I aren’t around by the time anything happens.
PUG: You’ve always got Jompiy.
EJ: Yeah, my solid backup plan. I don’t need to worry about Jompiy getting nicked.
Read the full interview at https://edgeworth.blog/2024/04/27/me-a-doll-interview/
https://youtu.be/aWN2dAleE14
2024.05.17 09:12 Sweet-Count2557 Maldives Island for Rent
 | Maldives Island for Rent Welcome to the enchanting world of Maldives Island for Rent, where dreams of idyllic paradise become a reality.Picture yourself basking in the warm embrace of the sun, surrounded by crystal-clear turquoise waters that stretch as far as the eye can see.Imagine unwinding in luxurious accommodations, where every detail is meticulously crafted to indulge your senses.Now, imagine having an entire private island all to yourself.But that's just the beginning...Key TakeawaysThe Maldives offers a range of private island options for rent, with luxurious accommodations and amenities.Guests can enjoy a variety of activities and excursions, including water sports, spa treatments, and exploring the marine life and coral reefs.The private islands provide a high level of privacy, exclusivity, and personalized service, with dedicated butlers and chefs available.Eco-friendly tourism and sustainability are emphasized, with efforts made to minimize impact on the environment and preserve the natural beauty of the Maldives.Velaa Private Island: 45 VillasVelaa Private Island: 45 Villas, nestled in the crystal-clear waters of the Indian Ocean, offers a luxurious and unforgettable escape like no other. Located in the Maldives, this private island paradise is a dream destination for those seeking privacy, exclusivity, and stunning natural beauty.With 45 villas to choose from, Velaa Private Island caters to various preferences and group sizes. Each villa is designed with elegance and sophistication, providing a serene sanctuary amidst the vibrant marine life and unspoiled natural surroundings. Whether you prefer a beachfront villa, a water villa, or a private residence, Velaa has the perfect accommodation to suit your desires.The amenities and activities available on the island are nothing short of extraordinary. Indulge in relaxation at the private spa, take a dip in the 25-meter-long swimming pool, or bask in the sun on the pristine beaches. For the adventurous souls, there are plenty of water sports to enjoy, such as snorkeling, diving, and jet skiing. The island also offers gourmet dining experiences, with world-class chefs crafting exquisite dishes using the finest ingredients.Velaa Private Island goes beyond providing a luxurious getaway. It offers opportunities for eco-friendly tourism, allowing guests to appreciate and preserve the natural beauty of the Maldives. Excursions to nearby islands and coral reefs give visitors a chance to explore the diverse marine life and vibrant ecosystems that make the Maldives a sought-after destination.Renting a private island like Velaa Private Island is a unique and unforgettable experience. It offers the ultimate escape from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, immersing you in a world of tranquility, natural beauty, and unparalleled luxury. So why settle for anything less when you can have the best?Discover the magic of Velaa Private Island: 45 Villas and create memories that will last a lifetime.Kudadoo Private Island: 15 Water VillasPrepare to be whisked away to a world of luxury and exclusivity with Kudadoo Private Island: 15 Water Villas.Nestled in the heart of the Indian Ocean, this private island offers an unparalleled experience of opulence and tranquility.With 15 beautifully designed over-water residences, each boasting its own private pool, guests can indulge in the ultimate island getaway.Luxury Water Villa ExperienceFor those seeking an unforgettable luxury water villa experience, Kudadoo Private Island offers 15 beautifully designed over-water residences, each boasting a private 44m2 pool for the ultimate in exclusivity and relaxation.Here's what you can expect from this extraordinary experience:Privacy and seclusion: Rent the entire island and enjoy the utmost privacy with access to 13 one-bedroom and 2 two-bedroom residences, as well as 2 over-water rooms for your entourage.Personalized service: Indulge in the all-inclusive package that includes a private butler for each residence, a personal chef for curated dining experiences, and unlimited award-winning spa treatments.Exciting activities: Immerse yourself in a range of activities such as snorkeling, big game fishing, dolphin safaris, and yoga sessions with a private trainer.Exclusive perks: Enjoy access to the wine cellar with prestigious wines, Champagne, and the renowned 5.8 Undersea Restaurant at Hurawalhi Island Resort. Plus, you'll have daily breakfast, free Wi-Fi, butler service, and yoga and meditation classes.For an unparalleled luxury water villa experience, Kudadoo Private Island is the ultimate choice.Exclusive Island AmenitiesWith its 15 sustainably designed over-water residences and exclusive amenities, Kudadoo Private Island offers an unparalleled luxury experience for those seeking the ultimate in privacy and relaxation. As guests of this exclusive island, we have access to a range of amenities that cater to our every need. Let's take a look at some of the highlights:Exclusive Island AmenitiesDescriptionPersonal ButlerEach residence comes with a dedicated personal butler who is available round the clock to assist with any requests or arrangements. From arranging excursions to ensuring our villa is always stocked with our favorite snacks and beverages, our butler is there to make our stay as seamless and enjoyable as possible.Private ChefA personal chef is assigned to curate a bespoke dining experience, tailored to our preferences. From romantic candlelit dinners on the beach to gourmet picnics on a secluded sandbank, our chef will create culinary delights that cater to our tastes.Spa TreatmentsAs part of the all-inclusive luxury experience, we have unlimited access to award-winning spa treatments. Whether it's a soothing massage or a rejuvenating facial, we can indulge in ultimate relaxation whenever we desire.Activities and ExcursionsThe island offers a wide range of activities and excursions to keep us entertained. From snorkeling in vibrant coral reefs to going on a thrilling big game fishing expedition, there is something for everyone. For those looking to maintain their fitness routine, private yoga sessions with a dedicated trainer are also available.Stylish TravelTo explore the surrounding area, a seaplane is at our disposal. This provides a luxurious and convenient mode of transportation, allowing us to arrive at our chosen destination in style.With these exclusive island amenities, Kudadoo Private Island ensures that every aspect of our stay is taken care of, leaving us free to relax and enjoy the beauty of the Maldives.The Nautilus Maldives: 26 Houses and ResidencesNestled in the azure waters of the Indian Ocean, The Nautilus Maldives beckons with its collection of 26 exquisite houses and residences. This exclusive private island resort, located southwest of Sri Lanka and approximately 700 kilometers southwest of India, offers a truly luxurious and unforgettable experience. Here, guests can indulge in the epitome of comfort and relaxation, surrounded by stunning natural beauty.To give you a taste of what awaits at The Nautilus Maldives, here are four key features of their houses and residences:Unparalleled Luxury: Each house and residence at The Nautilus Maldives is designed with the utmost attention to detail, combining contemporary style with traditional Maldivian elements. From spacious living areas to private pools and sun decks, every aspect is carefully crafted to provide the ultimate in comfort and opulence.Spectacular Views: Imagine waking up to breathtaking vistas of the turquoise ocean stretching as far as the eye can see. Whether you choose a beachfront villa or an overwater bungalow, you can enjoy uninterrupted views of the Indian Ocean from the privacy of your own sanctuary.Personalized Service: At The Nautilus Maldives, hospitality is taken to new heights. Each house and residence comes with a dedicated butler who'll cater to your every need, ensuring that your stay is nothing short of extraordinary. From arranging bespoke dining experiences to organizing excursions and activities, they'll go above and beyond to create unforgettable moments.Secluded Serenity: The Nautilus Maldives offers the perfect escape from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. With its private island setting, you can truly disconnect and unwind in a tranquil paradise. Whether you choose to relax on the pristine white sandy beaches or explore the vibrant underwater world, you'll find peace and serenity at every turn.Four Seasons Maldives Private Island VoavahImmerse yourself in the epitome of luxury and exclusivity at the Four Seasons Maldives Private Island Voavah.This private island resort, nestled in the Indian Ocean, offers a breathtaking natural landscape with pristine beaches that stretch as far as the eye can see.As guests, you'll have the opportunity to indulge in a range of exclusive amenities and activities that will leave you feeling pampered and rejuvenated.Picture yourself lounging on your own private beach, the turquoise waters lapping at your feet as you soak up the sun.For those seeking adventure, the resort offers an array of water sports, from snorkeling and scuba diving to jet skiing and paddleboarding.If relaxation is what you crave, the spa and wellness facilities await, ready to provide you with the ultimate in tranquility and rejuvenation.At the Four Seasons Maldives Private Island Voavah, every aspect of your stay is meticulously tailored to your desires.With seven private villas, each featuring its own spa, you can unwind in style and seclusion.The resort also boasts a 25-meter-long swimming pool, exotic gardens, and a private boat, perfect for exploring nearby islands and coral reefs.Whether you're planning a group gathering, a family vacation, or a special celebration, this private island paradise offers the ideal setting.With its unspoiled natural beauty, crystal-clear waters teeming with vibrant marine life, and a range of activities to suit every taste, the Four Seasons Maldives Private Island Voavah promises an unforgettable and unique holiday experience.Coco Privé Kuda Hithi IslandCoco Privé Kuda Hithi Island beckons visitors with its luxurious accommodations and stunning natural surroundings in the Indian Ocean. As we explore this private island resort, let's delve into what makes Coco Privé Kuda Hithi Island the perfect destination for an unforgettable getaway.Exquisite Accommodations: The water villas in Coco Privé Kuda Hithi Island provide a truly lavish experience. With breathtaking views, direct access to the ocean, and modern amenities, these villas offer the ultimate in comfort and luxury.Spacious and Serene: Ideal for group gatherings, the island offers ample space for everyone. Whether you're planning a big family reunion, a get-together with friends, or a special celebration, Coco Privé Kuda Hithi Island ensures privacy and seclusion for all.A Paradise of Activities: With a 25-meter-long swimming pool and its own spa, the island provides endless opportunities for relaxation and rejuvenation. Whether you choose to lounge by the pool, immerse yourself in the crystal-clear waters, or explore the vibrant marine life, Coco Privé Kuda Hithi Island offers a dream destination experience.Instagram-Worthy Landscapes: The natural beauty of Coco Privé Kuda Hithi Island is truly awe-inspiring. From the exotic gardens to the picturesque vistas, every corner of the island is a perfect backdrop for capturing unforgettable moments.To inquire about rates and make reservations for this slice of paradise, interested individuals can reach out to Coco Privé Kuda Hithi Island through their website, phone, or email. Don't miss the chance to experience the epitome of luxury and natural beauty at Coco Privé Kuda Hithi Island.Ithaafushi Private Island by Waldorf AstoriaAs we continue our exploration of luxurious private island retreats in the Maldives, let's set our sights on the captivating Ithaafushi Private Island by Waldorf Astoria.This secluded paradise is located in the Indian Ocean, southwest of Sri Lanka, offering an exclusive haven for those seeking the utmost privacy and indulgence.One of the highlights of Ithaafushi Private Island is its array of luxurious amenities. Imagine pampering yourself with a rejuvenating spa treatment in your own private spa, or taking a refreshing dip in the 25-meter-long swimming pool. The island is also adorned with exotic gardens, creating a serene and picturesque backdrop for your getaway.Guests at Ithaafushi Private Island can enjoy a host of activities to enhance their experience. From thrilling water sports to gourmet dining experiences, there's something for everyone to enjoy. If you're feeling adventurous, you can even embark on excursions to nearby islands and coral reefs, immersing yourself in the natural beauty of the Maldives.What sets Ithaafushi Private Island apart is its commitment to personalized service. With a dedicated team of 25 professionals led by the Island Chief, you can expect round-the-clock availability and expertise in various areas. Whether you need assistance with diving or housekeeping, the team is there to cater to your every need.The island offers 15 sustainably designed over-water residences, each featuring a 44m2 pool and private butler service. To further elevate your stay, unlimited spa treatments and tailored experiences are also included, ensuring a lavish and unforgettable retreat.Cheval Blanc Randheli Private IslandLocated in the captivating Maldives, Cheval Blanc Randheli Private Island offers a luxurious and exclusive experience for those seeking ultimate relaxation and seclusion. With its pristine beaches, exotic gardens, and personalized service, this private island is the epitome of luxury.Here are four reasons why Cheval Blanc Randheli Private Island is the perfect destination for an unforgettable getaway:Indulge in the Spa: The island features its own spa, where you can pamper yourself with rejuvenating treatments and therapies. From traditional Maldivian massages to bespoke wellness rituals, the spa offers a range of options to help you unwind and rejuvenate.Relax by the Pool: Take a dip in the island's 25-meter-long swimming pool, surrounded by lush greenery and breathtaking views. Whether you want to soak up the sun on a comfortable lounger or enjoy a refreshing swim, the pool area provides the perfect setting for relaxation.Escape to Water Villas: Experience the ultimate in privacy and seclusion with the island's water villas. These luxurious accommodations offer direct access to the ocean, allowing you to immerse yourself in the crystal-clear waters of the Maldives. With modern amenities and stunning views, the water villas provide a serene and intimate setting for your stay.Ideal for Group Gatherings: Whether you're planning a family reunion, a getaway with friends, or a special celebration, Cheval Blanc Randheli Private Island has ample space and activities to accommodate large groups. From spacious accommodations to a variety of leisure options, the island ensures that everyone has a memorable and enjoyable experience.From the moment you step foot on Cheval Blanc Randheli Private Island, you'll be greeted with warm hospitality and exceptional service. The 25-person team, led by the Island Chief, is dedicated to providing tailored experiences and ensuring that every aspect of your stay is nothing short of perfection.The Beach HouseWhen it comes to luxury amenities, The Beach House on the private island offers an unparalleled experience.With its open-air living room, dining areas, gym, library, and Loft Lounge, guests can enjoy panoramic views of the Biosphere domain while indulging in ultimate relaxation.The 15 over-water residences with private pools and the personalized services of a private butler, personal chef, and personal trainer ensure that exclusive privacy and utmost comfort are guaranteed throughout your stay.Luxury Amenities OfferedThe Beach House at The Maldives offers an array of luxurious amenities that cater to every guest's desire for opulence and relaxation. Here are some of the incredible luxury amenities offered:Central Hub: The Beach House features a central hub with open-air living and dining areas, a gym, a library, and the Loft Lounge. From here, guests can enjoy panoramic views of the Biosphere domain, creating a truly breathtaking experience.Over-Water Residences: There are 15 sustainably designed over-water residences at The Beach House, each equipped with a 44m2 pool. Guests can rent the entire island and choose from 13 one-bedroom and 2 two-bedroom residences, as well as 2 over-water rooms for their entourage.Personalized Services: Every residence at The Beach House comes with a private butler, ensuring that guests receive the highest level of service. Additionally, a personal chef is available to curate dining experiences, a personal trainer and wellness guru are on hand to help guests stay fit and relaxed, and unlimited award-winning spa treatments are offered, including a Himalayan salt room, sauna, and steam room.Exciting Activities: The Beach House offers a range of activities and excursions to keep guests entertained. From snorkeling and big game fishing to dolphin safaris on jet skis, there's something for everyone. Yoga and gym sessions are also available to help guests maintain their fitness routines. For a truly stylish travel experience, guests can even enjoy transportation via Kudadoo's own seaplane.At The Beach House, luxury amenities are at the forefront, ensuring that every guest enjoys a truly unforgettable and indulgent experience.Exclusive Privacy GuaranteedNestled in the heart of the Maldives, The Beach House offers an exclusive haven of privacy and seclusion for those seeking a truly personalized island experience. With the Exclusive Privacy Guaranteed package, guests can enjoy the ultimate level of privacy, ensuring that their stay on the island remains undisturbed.The Beach House features an open-air living room and dining areas, a gym, a library, and the Loft Lounge, offering panoramic views of the Biosphere domain. This package also includes daily breakfast, welcome amenities, free Wi-Fi, butler service, and access to non-motorized water sports, yoga, fitness, and meditation classes.Whether you want to relax by the infinity pool or explore the vibrant marine life, The Beach House provides an exclusive retreat where you can unwind and rejuvenate in complete seclusion.For those interested in booking the island, The Nautilus Maldives can be contacted via email at reservations@thenautilusmaldives.com for more information about island buy-out rates and to learn about the package.Luxury Vacation Rental & ResidenceIndulge in the epitome of luxury with our selection of stunning Maldives island resorts, private islands for rent, and eco-friendly island options. When it comes to luxury vacation rental and residence in the Maldives, there's no shortage of opulent options to choose from. Here is a glimpse into what awaits you in this tropical paradise:Velaa Private Island: Immerse yourself in a world of unparalleled luxury with its private villas, Michelin-starred dining, and an exclusive golf course designed by a champion golfer.Kudadoo Private Island: Experience a truly all-inclusive escape with its lavish overwater villas, personalized butler service, and unlimited access to activities such as diving, spa treatments, and gourmet dining.The Nautilus Maldives: Step into a world of timeless elegance with its spacious beach and ocean houses, private pools, and bespoke experiences tailored to your every desire.Four Seasons Maldives Private Island Voavah: Enjoy the ultimate in privacy and exclusivity on this five-acre island, complete with a private yacht, dedicated team of staff, and an array of water sports and wellness activities.These luxury vacation rentals and residences offer not just lavish accommodations, but also access to the Maldives' stunning natural beauty. From pristine white-sand beaches to crystal-clear waters teeming with vibrant marine life, every moment spent in this paradise is sure to be Instagram-worthy.Whether you seek relaxation or adventure, these properties provide a comprehensive range of services and activities to make your vacation truly unforgettable.Please note that availability may be limited due to high demand, so it's advisable to book well in advance. Prices for these luxury rentals and residences range from thousands to millions of dollars, depending on the duration of stay and the specific amenities and services included.Prepare to be pampered and indulge in the ultimate luxury experience in the Maldives.Ultimate Private Islands in MaldivesGet ready to immerse yourselves in the world of ultimate luxury and exclusivity as we explore the incredible private islands in the Maldives.These exclusive resorts offer a secluded tropical paradise, where you can bask in unparalleled privacy and tranquility.Imagine having your own pristine beach, indulging in water sports, enjoying gourmet dining experiences, and exploring nearby coral reefs - all in the lap of luxury.Exclusive Luxury ResortsAt these exclusive luxury resorts in the Maldives, you can experience the ultimate in privacy, personalized service, and stunning natural beauty. Here are four reasons why these resorts are the epitome of luxury:Private Islands: These resorts offer the opportunity to rent or purchase your own private island in the Indian Ocean. Imagine having an entire island to yourself, with pristine beaches, crystal-clear waters, and lush landscapes.Endless Activities: From water sports like snorkeling and diving to spa and wellness facilities, there's no shortage of activities to enjoy. You can explore nearby islands and coral reefs, indulge in gourmet dining experiences, or simply relax on your secluded beach.Exclusivity: These luxury resorts pride themselves on providing an exclusive experience. With limited availability due to high demand, you can rest assured that you'll have the privacy and exclusivity you desire.Unforgettable Holiday: Choosing a private island in the Maldives guarantees a unique and memorable holiday experience. The personalized service, breathtaking natural beauty, and unrivaled privacy will leave you with memories that will last a lifetime.Secluded Tropical ParadiseAs we continue our exploration of exclusive luxury resorts in the Maldives, we now venture into the realm of Secluded Tropical Paradise, where ultimate private islands await, offering a haven of tranquility and breathtaking beauty.These secluded tropical paradises provide an escape from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, allowing guests to immerse themselves in the serenity of nature. With luxurious amenities and stunning natural surroundings, these private islands offer the perfect setting for a truly unforgettable vacation.From water sports and spa experiences to gourmet dining, guests can indulge in a wide range of activities while enjoying the utmost privacy and personalized service. The spacious accommodations, whether it be a water villa or a beachfront bungalow, provide a luxurious retreat with breathtaking views and direct access to the crystal-clear waters of the Indian Ocean.For those seeking an exclusive and intimate getaway, these ultimate private islands in the Maldives are the epitome of secluded tropical paradise.Unparalleled Privacy and TranquilityNestled amidst the turquoise waters of the Indian Ocean, the ultimate private islands in the Maldives offer an unparalleled escape into a world of unrivaled privacy and tranquility. Here, guests can bask in the seclusion of their own private paradise, surrounded by breathtaking natural beauty.To paint a picture of this idyllic setting, imagine:Exclusive Luxury: Guests can indulge in luxurious amenities, from private beaches and water sports to spa facilities and gourmet dining experiences.Unmatched Personalized Service: The private islands provide unparalleled seclusion, accompanied by personalized service that caters to every whim and desire.Sustainable Serenity: These private islands are ideal for eco-friendly and sustainable tourism, inviting guests to immerse themselves in the stunning natural surroundings.Group Gatherings: Perfect for group gatherings, the private islands offer spacious accommodations, a wide range of activities, and breathtaking water villas with direct access to the ocean.Immerse yourself in a world of unparalleled privacy and tranquility, where every moment is tailored to your desires.Small Luxury Resorts for RentImmerse yourself in the lap of luxury with a stay at one of the small, exclusive resorts available for rent in the Maldives. These small luxury resorts offer an intimate and personalized experience, ensuring that every guest feels like a VIP. With stunning natural beauty and world-class amenities, these resorts provide a truly unforgettable vacation.Resort NameLocationAmenitiesVelaa Private IslandNoonu AtollPrivate pool, spa, golf course, underwater restaurantKudadoo Private IslandLhaviyani AtollPrivate butler, infinity pool, overwater spaThe Nautilus MaldivesBaa AtollPrivate beach, ocean-facing infinity pool, spaFour Seasons Maldives VoavahBaa AtollPrivate yacht, beach house, dive centerEach of these small luxury resorts offers a unique and extraordinary experience. At Velaa Private Island, indulge in the luxury of your own private pool, spa treatments, and even a round of golf on their exclusive course. Kudadoo Private Island takes personalized service to the next level with a private butler at your disposal, an infinity pool overlooking the turquoise waters, and an overwater spa for ultimate relaxation.If you're looking for a secluded beach getaway, The Nautilus Maldives is the perfect choice. With its private beach and ocean-facing infinity pool, you can unwind and soak up the sun in complete tranquility. For those seeking adventure, Four Seasons Maldives Voavah offers a private yacht, a beach house, and a dive center, allowing you to explore the vibrant coral reefs and marine life that the Maldives is famous for.These small luxury resorts for rent in the Maldives offer unparalleled comfort, privacy, and breathtaking views. Whether you're celebrating a special occasion or simply seeking a romantic escape, these resorts provide the perfect backdrop for an unforgettable vacation.Very Private Islands in the MaldivesWith luxurious Maldives island resorts, exclusive private islands for rent, and secluded islands for sale, the Maldives offers a range of very private island options for those seeking the ultimate in privacy and seclusion.Luxury and Exclusivity: Private islands in the Maldives provide the epitome of luxury and exclusivity. From lavish villas to personalized service, these islands offer a truly opulent experience.Secluded Beaches: Picture yourself lounging on your own private beach, with pristine white sand and crystal-clear turquoise waters. Private islands in the Maldives offer secluded beaches where you can relax and soak up the sun in complete privacy.Water Sports and Excursions: If you're seeking adventure, private islands in the Maldives have you covered. Enjoy thrilling water sports such as snorkeling and diving, or embark on excursions to nearby islands and coral reefs for a truly memorable experience.Eco-Friendly Options: For those who value sustainability, private islands in the Maldives also offer eco-friendly options. These islands are designed to minimize their impact on the environment, allowing you to enjoy the beauty of nature while being mindful of its preservation.Choosing a private island in the Maldives comes with numerous benefits. You'll enjoy ultimate privacy and seclusion, along with personalized service that caters to your every need. The stunning natural beauty and pristine beaches will take your breath away, providing the perfect backdrop for a truly memorable holiday. Additionally, by opting for an eco-friendly island, you can contribute to sustainable tourism and leave a positive impact on the environment.Some of the private islands available for rent in the Maldives include Velaa Private Island, Kudadoo Private Island, The Nautilus Maldives, Four Seasons Maldives Private Island Voavah, Coco Privé Kuda Hithi Island, Ithaafushi Private Island by Waldorf Astoria, and Cheval Blanc Randheli Private Island. These islands offer a range of facilities such as private spas, swimming pools, pristine beaches, exotic gardens, and even private boats for exploring the surrounding waters.Frequently Asked QuestionsHow Much Does It Cost to Rent an Island in Maldives?When it comes to renting an island in the Maldives, the cost can vary greatly. A cost comparison is necessary to find the best option for your budget.Factors such as location, amenities, and duration of stay all play a role in determining the price. Private islands offer ultimate privacy and luxurious experiences, but they can range from thousands to millions of dollars.Which Is the Cheapest Private Island in Maldives?The cheapest private island in the Maldives offers affordable accommodations for those seeking a luxurious getaway. With all-inclusive luxury experiences starting at $250,000 per night, guests can have an entire island to themselves. This package includes daily breakfast, a champagne welcome, and access to activities such as snorkeling and yoga.Additional perks like free Wi-Fi, butler service, and VIP transportation from the airport make this experience even more enticing.Contact Kudadoo to book your dream island escape.How Do You Get to Private Island in Maldives?Getting to private island resorts in the Maldives is a breeze. We can choose from a variety of transportation options, including seaplanes, speedboats, helicopters, and even private yachts. These luxurious modes of travel offer not only convenience but also breathtaking views of the surrounding turquoise waters.Whether it's a short speedboat ride or a scenic seaplane transfer, the journey to our private island retreat promises to be hassle-free and unforgettable.Can I Stay on a Local Island in the Maldives?Yes, we can stay on a local island in the Maldives.Staying on a local island offers a unique opportunity to immerse ourselves in the local culture and interact with friendly locals.We can explore vibrant communities, visit local markets, and indulge in traditional Maldivian cuisine.Additionally, day trips to nearby islands are possible, allowing us to discover the beauty of the surrounding area.It's important to respect local customs and dress codes while staying on local islands.ConclusionIn conclusion, renting a private island in the Maldives offers an unparalleled luxury experience that's sure to create memories that last a lifetime.While some may argue that a private island vacation is too extravagant, the privacy, personalized service, and stunning natural beauty make it a worthwhile investment.So why not treat yourself to a truly unique and unforgettable holiday in the Maldives, where you can enjoy the ultimate in seclusion and luxury? submitted by Sweet-Count2557 to worldkidstravel [link] [comments] |
2024.05.17 09:12 JGT3000 Exquisite Corps Ending
So I just finished an Xcom replay... It's been years since I played Enemy Within and I wanted to dive back into it. After some failures trying to mod it I wound up playing vanilla.
To the point: I had forgotten a lot of the game but when I got to the final room it looked familiar. I remembered the end of the Exquisite Corps (what was it 17%?) and that it turns out you only have to kill the center enemy. I also remembered Dan's insistence that it was a guaranteed hit since it was the end of the game.
I focused in on the main archon but soon found myself over extended and decided to fully commit to his strategy. I took terrible shots with all my squad members and every single one of them hit, ending with my last squad member getting a crit for the win.
Has anyone else done this? Is actually how the last encounter is programmed? It was crazy enough to learn you only have to kill the center one, is the accuracy fake there too?
submitted by JGT3000 to giantbomb [link] [comments]
To the point: I had forgotten a lot of the game but when I got to the final room it looked familiar. I remembered the end of the Exquisite Corps (what was it 17%?) and that it turns out you only have to kill the center enemy. I also remembered Dan's insistence that it was a guaranteed hit since it was the end of the game.
I focused in on the main archon but soon found myself over extended and decided to fully commit to his strategy. I took terrible shots with all my squad members and every single one of them hit, ending with my last squad member getting a crit for the win.
Has anyone else done this? Is actually how the last encounter is programmed? It was crazy enough to learn you only have to kill the center one, is the accuracy fake there too?
2024.05.17 08:58 EcoLogicCrusader Must-Not-Miss Interactive Experiences at AniMinneapolis 2024!
 | https://preview.redd.it/86f1rxrvpx0d1.jpg?width=2048&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=6df558241b7101388809fe2d7691ceea950fceec submitted by EcoLogicCrusader to animinneapolis [link] [comments] AniMinneapolis is back and bigger than ever in 2024! This family-friendly anime convention is a highlight for anime enthusiasts, offering an immersive experience that celebrates Japanese culture, anime, and gaming. Held from May 24 to May 26, 2024, at the Hyatt Regency Minneapolis, AniMinneapolis is the perfect place for fans to come together, dress up, and participate in a plethora of exciting activities. From interactive experiences to vendor halls brimming with merchandise, this convention has something for everyone. Organized by AnimeCon.org, this event attracts thousands of fans from all over, offering a welcoming community where attendees can participate in hundreds of different events, meet new friends, and indulge in their shared passions. With three full days of programming, there’s no shortage of things to do and see. Interactive Experiences One of the biggest draws of AniMinneapolis is its array of interactive experiences. These activities are designed to engage attendees in fun and memorable ways, allowing them to dive deep into the world of anime and Japanese culture. 1. Escape Room AniMinneapolis features a thrilling escape room experience where participants must solve puzzles and riddles to break free from a cursed classroom. The escape room is designed to challenge your problem-solving skills and teamwork, making it an exciting adventure for friends and strangers alike. You have 45 minutes to solve the mystery and escape the room. This interactive experience is perfect for those who enjoy a good challenge and a bit of suspense. Why You Shouldn't Miss It The escape room is a fantastic way to test your wits and bond with fellow attendees. It’s a unique and immersive experience that brings an element of mystery and excitement to the convention. Plus, it’s a great break from the hustle and bustle of the main events, providing a quieter, more focused activity. 2. Maid Cafe Inspired by the popular maid cafes in Japan, the AniMinneapolis Maid Cafe offers a whimsical dining experience where costumed maids and butlers serve snacks and beverages. The cafe is designed to transport you into a world of fantasy, with attentive staff who ensure you have a delightful time. Why You Shouldn't Miss It The Maid Cafe is a charming and unique part of the convention that allows you to experience a slice of Japanese pop culture firsthand. It’s a fun and interactive way to take a break, enjoy some refreshments, and be entertained by the maids and butlers. Whether you’re new to the concept or a seasoned fan, the Maid Cafe is a must-visit. 3. Nightly Dances AniMinneapolis hosts nightly dances featuring some of the best DJs, including Party Monster DJs, Lucid Beats, and DJ Oso. These dances are a great way to let loose and enjoy a variety of electronic dance music styles, from techno to hardstyle. Why You Shouldn't Miss It The nightly dances are a high-energy highlight of the convention. It’s an opportunity to dance, have fun, and connect with other attendees in a lively atmosphere. Whether you’re an experienced dancer or just looking to have some fun, the nightly dances are a blast. 4. Formal Fantasy Cosplay Ball The Formal Fantasy Cosplay Ball is a special event where attendees can dress in their finest cosplay and enjoy a night of dancing. The ball includes professional dance lessons, ensuring everyone can participate, regardless of their skill level. For those without a date, there’s even a Date Auction before the event. Why You Shouldn't Miss It The ball is a unique and elegant experience that adds a touch of glamour to the convention. It’s a chance to showcase your cosplay in a formal setting, learn some new dance moves, and perhaps even meet someone special. The Date Auction also adds an exciting twist, making the evening even more memorable. 5. Interactive Panels and Workshops AniMinneapolis offers a wide range of panels and workshops covering various topics related to anime, manga, and Japanese culture. These sessions are often led by industry professionals, voice actors, and passionate fans. From voice acting workshops to discussions about your favorite series, there’s something for everyone. Why You Shouldn't Miss It Panels and workshops are a fantastic way to deepen your knowledge and engage with experts and fellow fans. They provide insight into the anime industry, offer tips and tricks for cosplay and art, and allow for meaningful discussions. Participating in these sessions can enhance your convention experience and inspire your own creative pursuits. 6. Video Gaming Area The video gaming area at AniMinneapolis features a variety of gaming consoles and arcade machines. Attendees can participate in gaming tournaments, play casual games, and enjoy a wide selection of titles, from classic favorites to the latest releases. Why You Shouldn't Miss It For gamers, the video gaming area is a paradise. It’s a great place to compete, make new friends, and enjoy some downtime between other activities. The tournaments add an extra layer of excitement, with the chance to win prizes and bragging rights. 7. Karaoke Karaoke is a popular activity at AniMinneapolis, allowing attendees to sing their favorite songs in front of a supportive audience. The convention provides a vast library of songs, including anime themes, J-pop hits, and more. Why You Shouldn't Miss It Karaoke is a fun and interactive way to express yourself and entertain others. It’s a chance to showcase your singing talent (or lack thereof) and enjoy the camaraderie of fellow anime fans. Whether you’re a seasoned performer or just looking to have fun, karaoke is a must-try experience. 8. Autograph Sessions AniMinneapolis hosts autograph sessions with voice actors, artists, and other special guests. This is your chance to meet your favorite stars, get memorabilia signed, and even chat with them. Why You Shouldn't Miss It Meeting the voices behind your favorite characters is a thrilling experience. Autograph sessions provide a unique opportunity to interact with industry professionals, gain insights into their work, and create lasting memories. Plus, getting your merchandise signed adds a personal touch to your collection. 9. Cosplay Competitions The cosplay competitions at AniMinneapolis are a showcase of creativity and craftsmanship. The grand cosplay competition is the main event, where cosplayers compete for prizes and recognition. There are also other cosplay events, such as photoshoots and meetups, throughout the convention. Why You Shouldn't Miss It Cosplay competitions are a highlight for both participants and spectators. They offer a platform for cosplayers to display their hard work and creativity, and they provide inspiration for future costumes. Even if you’re not competing, watching the competitions is a treat, as you’ll see some truly amazing costumes. 10. Anime Screenings AniMinneapolis dedicates a room for anime screenings, where attendees can watch a variety of shows and movies. The screenings include both new releases and classic favorites, providing a chance to discover something new or revisit beloved series. Why You Shouldn't Miss It Anime screenings offer a relaxing way to enjoy some downtime during the convention. It’s a chance to catch up on shows you might have missed, see new episodes, and enjoy the communal experience of watching anime with fellow fans. The screenings are also a great way to introduce friends to new series. 11. Tabletop Gaming The tabletop gaming area is hosted by Flame Point Games and features a variety of board games, card games, and role-playing games. Attendees can playtest new games, join in on scheduled sessions, or just enjoy some casual gaming. Why You Shouldn't Miss It Tabletop gaming offers a different kind of interactive experience, focusing on strategy, creativity, and social interaction. It’s a great way to take a break from the fast-paced convention environment and enjoy some quality time with friends or make new ones over a game. 12. AMV Contest The Anime Music Video (AMV) contest is a competition where creators showcase their editing skills by combining anime clips with music. The contest is held on Sunday morning, and the winner receives free tickets to the next convention. Why You Shouldn't Miss It The AMV contest is a display of creativity and technical skill. Watching the entries is a fun and engaging experience, as you get to see how different creators interpret and remix anime. It’s also a great source of inspiration for aspiring editors and creators. Other Events and Activities In addition to the interactive experiences, AniMinneapolis offers a wide range of other events and activities that fans should look forward to. Vendor Hall While at the con, be sure to check out AniMinneapolis’ vendor hall - a bustling marketplace where attendees can purchase a variety of anime merchandise, artwork, and collectibles. It’s a great place to find unique items, complete your collection, or pick up some souvenirs. It’s also an opportunity to support local and independent artists by purchasing their work. ConSweet Need a place to recharge, grab a bite to eat, and meet other attendees? The ConSweet is a hospitality area that provides free snacks, ramen, and soda throughout the weekend. It’s a lifesaver during the busy convention weekend. It ensures you stay energized and hydrated, and it’s a great place to take a break and socialize with other fans. Plus, who can resist free snacks? Meetups Meetups are scheduled gatherings for fans of specific shows, genres, or interests. These events provide a chance to connect with like-minded individuals, share your passion, and make new friends. Meetups are a fantastic way to build community and make connections. Whether you’re a fan of a niche series or a popular franchise, there’s likely a meetup for you. It’s an opportunity to engage in discussions, share fan theories, and bond over shared interests. Tips for Cosplay Cosplay is a major part of AniMinneapolis, and many attendees enjoy dressing up as their favorite characters. When choosing a costume, consider your skill level, budget, and comfort. If you’re new to cosplay, start with a simpler design that you can easily assemble. Think about characters you love and feel confident portraying. If you wish to create your own cosplay, start early and plan ahead. Break the project into manageable steps, and don’t be afraid to ask for help or use online tutorials. Focus on key details that will make your costume recognizable, and remember that comfort is important, especially for long convention days. Cosplay Etiquette Respect other cosplayers and their work. Always ask for permission before taking photos and be mindful of personal space. Cosplay is about having fun and expressing your love for characters, so enjoy the process and the community. Tips for First-Time Attendees If you’re attending AniMinneapolis for the first time, here are some tips to ensure you have a fun and immersive experience.
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2024.05.17 08:36 Local-Interview-4139 Advice requested for issue with new-build property
Bought a new-build terrace in Q1 of 2022; thin from the front but has a long, south facing brick wall that the rain hits. I went on holiday at Christmas 2022 and when I came back I saw mold creeping up the wall in the living room, began to investigate and noticed that the carpet was damp at points along the wall. First assumption was that the waste pipe was leaking as it is next to the damp spot, but I can’t smell anything foul. I pull the couch out and notice it’s damp there as well, as well as further down the room. Seems to be damp around where the air cavity bricks are when looking from the outside. Since the wall is common with both the living room and the kitchen I decide to pull the plinths off the kitchen units and see mold under there as well.
Complained to the developer and they sent someone out. He investigated and thought it was an error with how the damp-proof course and radon barrier were installed; he believed that they overhung the brickwork too much and allowed moisture to creep in due to the capillary effect during heavy rain. I accepted the answer as I had since bought a moisture meter that I would press into the wall and carpet and the higher readings would always be after it had rained. They got to work to correct this and I’d monitor it throughout the remainder of 2023, the readings on the wall were still a bit higher (15%ish) but the meter was still in the green range and the carpet felt dry so I didn’t have any evidence. Come December 2023 and I’m noticing similar issues again; damp and water ingress. The meter caps out at 22% but I'm measuring that at many points of the exterior wall. No mold this year but that might just be coincidental since the winter of 2022 was a lot more brutal than 2023 in my area.
Complained again and they’ve sent someone out to investigate. The contractor admitted he could smell and feel damp when he came into the living room and reported it back to the developer and said it might need a structural engineer to fault-find. Developer said they’d arrange work but wouldn’t commit to what solution they’re going to try. I’ve since had the same contractor as 2022 come back and do more work to the brickwork whilst I’ve been away at work. I’ve inquired with the developer but they haven’t given me a concrete answer yet and I feel like they’re fobbing me off. I’m also outside of my 2 year warranty.
I feel like at this point I’m ready to contact the LABC and get the ball rolling, but I’m posting this here to get some feedback on what others would do in my situation. A GDPR request to the developer maybe in case there’s any e-mails about me that discuss the issue, or maybe speak to my home insurance. Obviously if it is structural then any solutions are surely to be disruptive to me and I want to make sure I've considered everything.
submitted by Local-Interview-4139 to HousingUK [link] [comments]
Complained to the developer and they sent someone out. He investigated and thought it was an error with how the damp-proof course and radon barrier were installed; he believed that they overhung the brickwork too much and allowed moisture to creep in due to the capillary effect during heavy rain. I accepted the answer as I had since bought a moisture meter that I would press into the wall and carpet and the higher readings would always be after it had rained. They got to work to correct this and I’d monitor it throughout the remainder of 2023, the readings on the wall were still a bit higher (15%ish) but the meter was still in the green range and the carpet felt dry so I didn’t have any evidence. Come December 2023 and I’m noticing similar issues again; damp and water ingress. The meter caps out at 22% but I'm measuring that at many points of the exterior wall. No mold this year but that might just be coincidental since the winter of 2022 was a lot more brutal than 2023 in my area.
Complained again and they’ve sent someone out to investigate. The contractor admitted he could smell and feel damp when he came into the living room and reported it back to the developer and said it might need a structural engineer to fault-find. Developer said they’d arrange work but wouldn’t commit to what solution they’re going to try. I’ve since had the same contractor as 2022 come back and do more work to the brickwork whilst I’ve been away at work. I’ve inquired with the developer but they haven’t given me a concrete answer yet and I feel like they’re fobbing me off. I’m also outside of my 2 year warranty.
I feel like at this point I’m ready to contact the LABC and get the ball rolling, but I’m posting this here to get some feedback on what others would do in my situation. A GDPR request to the developer maybe in case there’s any e-mails about me that discuss the issue, or maybe speak to my home insurance. Obviously if it is structural then any solutions are surely to be disruptive to me and I want to make sure I've considered everything.
2024.05.17 08:35 Jaded_Being_1462 How do you feel about the English translation of LOTM
Until I started subtitling the audiobook, I never considered reading the English version of LOTM. To my surprise, the quality of the English translation seems somewhat 'disrespectful' to the original book. With the money Qidian made from it, they should have hired at least one English literature graduate, if not three English literature professors, to proofread it.
Even though I'm not a native English speaker, I couldn't resist the urge to translate some parts in my own way. One thing led to another, and now I have a brand new translation of Chapter One.
Now, I have a question for my fellow fans of LTOM:
Ouch!
Ow…ouch!
Ow…my head is killing me!
The fantastic yet surreal dream surrounded by whispering and murmuring shattered away instantly, Zhou Mingrui who was sound asleep felt an abrupt throbbing pain deep inside his head, as if his head were ruthlessly clubbed. No, it felt more like something sharp penetrated his temple, followed by twisting and stirring.
Feeling disoriented, Zhou Mingrui wanted to turn around, clutch his head, or sit up. Yet, unable to move his hands or feet, he felt like he had lost all control over his body.
Looks like I’m still in some sort of dream, didn’t really wake up… Moments later, I might even think I'm fully awake, only to realize I'm still asleep… Familiar with such experiences, Zhou Mingrui tried desperately to concentrate, hoping to break free from the grip of darkness and disorientation.
However, trapped between wakefulness and sleep, the willpower was as elusive as smoke, difficult to control and concentrate. Despite his efforts, his thoughts kept wandering wildly, with all sorts of ideas coming and going.
How could I suddenly have a headache out of nowhere in the middle of the night?
Especially one which hurts so badly!
Could it be something like a cerebral hemorrhage?
Damn, am I going to die at such a young age?
Wake up! Wake UP!
Huh? Doesn't feel as painful now? Although it still feels like a blunt knife is cutting through my brains…
Sure thing is, I won’t be able to fall asleep any more. How am I supposed to show up for work tomorrow?
Why even bother going to work? This is a legitimate headache, perfect for time off! And no need to worry about the manager's grumblings.
Put it this way, it’s not so bad after all. Yea, free time off for me!
In between the waves of throbbing pain, Zhou Mingrui gradually accumulated a sense of elusive strength. Finally, with a determined effort, he straightened his back and opened his eyes, breaking free from the state of half-sleep and half-wake.
His vision was blurry at first, then tinged with a faint crimson hue. In his line of sight, Zhou Mingrui saw a sturdy wooden desk, upon which lay an open notebook. The papers were rough and yellowed. Where the title supposed to be, there was a sentence written in strange characters, with eye-catching thick, dark ink that seemed ready to drip.
To the left of the notebook, along the edge of the desk, was a stack of seven or eight neatly arranged books. On the wall to their right, were grayish-white pipes inset into the wall, with wall lamps at their ends.
The lamps had a classical Western style, about half the size of an adult's head. It featured a transparent inner layer made of glass and an exterior grid made of black metal.
Diagonally beneath the unlit lamp, was a black ink bottle shrouded in a pale red glow.
On its embossed surface was a blurry angel figure.
In front of the ink bottle and to the right of the notebook, lay a dark-colored pen with a fully circular body. Its tip shimmered with a faint glint while its cap rested right beside a brass revolver.
A gun?
A revolver?
Zhou Mingrui was completely taken aback. Everything in front of him felt absolutely alien, nothing looked like his own room.
Shocked and confused, he came to the realization that the desk, the notebook, the ink bottle, and the revolve were all coated with a layer of crimson “veil” from the light shining through the window.
Without realizing what he was doing, he raised his head, looking up bit by bit.
In the midair, beyond the heavy smooth darkness, hung a crimson full moon, glowing silently.
Hiss… Zhou Mingrui felt inexplicably horrified, as he stood up abruptly. However, before he could fully straighten his knees, a throbbing pain struck his head, draining all his strength. He fell, with his buttocks slammed heavily back onto the burly wood chair.
The pain didn’t stop him for a moment. Zhou Mingrui popped up, turned around in a fluster, and began examining his surroundings.
The room was not big, with a brown door on both of his sides. Against the wall in front of him, was a wooden bunk bed. Between the bed and the door to the left was a cabinet with two opposing doors and five drawers beneath them.
Next to the cabinet was a pipe of the same grayish-white, inset into the wall at the height of a person. What distinct it is that it connected to a strange looking mechanical device, which had a few of gears and bearings exposed here and there.
Items resembling coal stoves, sat in the right corner of the room near the desk, along with some kitchenware such as soup pots and iron pans.
Through the right door, was a dressing mirror with a couple of cracks, standing on a wooden base emboss with simple plain patterns.
While looking around, Zhou Mingrui noticed himself in the mirror, the present him.
Dark hair, brown eyes, wearing a linen shirt, slim, average-looking features and a rather deep outline…
Hiss… Zhou Mingrui grasped the situation immediately as many helpless and confused thoughts surfaced in his mind.
The revolver, the classical European style decorations, as well as the crimson moon that looked nothing like Earth's moon—all of them were screaming the exact same thing.
Who am I?
C-could I have transmigrated?
Zhou Mingrui's mouth slowly opened wider and wider, bit by bit.
He had grown up reading web novels, even fantasized about such scenes from time to time. However, the fantasy was incredibly difficult to accept now that he found himself in one.
Classic "Talk? Yes, yes! Action? No, no!", isn’t it?
In less than a minute, Zhou Mingrui had already started to sarcastically critique, attempting to make the best of whatever situation he found himself in.
But for the throbbing headache forcing him to think fast and sharply, he would for sure be convinced that he was dreaming.
Easy, easy, easy…taking deep breaths, Zhou Mingrui was trying really hard to make himself to calm down.
Just as his mind and body began to relax, pieces of memories started to flush, slowly flooding into his consciousness.
Klein Moretti.
A citizen of the City of Tingen, Awwa County, Loen Kingdom in the Northern Continent
Recently graduated from the Department of History at Khoy University…
His father was a sergeant of the Imperial Army, who had sacrificed his life during a colonial ware with the Southern Continent. His bereavement allowance made it possible for Klein to study at a private literature school, paving the way for his admission into university…
His mother was a devotee of the Evernight Goddess, who passed away the year Klein passed the entrance examinations to Khoy University…
He also had an elder brother and a younger sister, living together in a two-bedroom apartment.
Their family was far from wealthy, and its financial situation could even be described as somewhat strained.
Currently, the family was supported solely by the elder brother who worked as a clerk at an import and export company …
As a college graduate majored in history, Klein was proficient in the ancient language of Feysac, considering the origin of all languages in the Northern Continent, as well as the language of Hermes, which was commonly found in ancient mausoleums and often associated with sacrificial scenes and praying rituals.
Hermes?!
Zhou Mingrui's mind started to race as he reached out to rub his throbbing temples.
He cast his gaze toward the desk at the opened notebook, but to realize that the strange looking characters on the yellowed paper started to look somewhat familiar, then increasingly recognizable, and finally comprehensible.
It was a statement written in Hermes!
The thick, dark ink, seemingly ready to drip, read:
“Everyone will die including me myself!”
Hiss! Zhou Mingrui felt inexplicably horrified. He instinctively leaned back, attempting to escape away from the notebook, and the ominous statement on it.
Being so weak, he almost fell down, but managed to extend his hands in a fluster to grasp the edge of the desk.
He felt that air around him air started to roar, filled with faint whispering and murmurings. It felt just like listening to horror stories told by elders when he was young.
He shook his head, telling himself that all these were nothing but an illusion. Getting back onto his feet, he looked away from the notebook while still breathing heavily.
This time, his sight landed on the shimmering brass revolver, immediately realizing something unexplainable.
With Klein's social status, in what universe he would have the money or access to buy a revolver?!
Zhou Mingrui couldn't help but furrow his brow. Deeply puzzled, his eyes were caught by a reddish handprint at the edge of the desk, which was even darker than the moonlight, as well as thicker than the “veil”.
It was a bloody handprint!
A bloody handprint?
Zhou Mingrui instinctly flipped his right hand, that was pushing against the edge of the desk. Looking at it, he saw his palm and fingers covered in blood.
In the meaning time, the throbbing pain was getting a little bit better, yet didn’t go away, binding him like one tie after another.
Did I smash and injure my head? Zhou Mingrui guessed as he turned around, walking towards the cracked dressing mirror. After just a few of steps, a medium build figure of dark hair and brown eyes appeared clearly in front of him. The person had a distinct scholarly air to him.
Is this the present me?
Klein Moretti?
Zhou Mingrui was stunned. The poor lighting of the night obscured his vision, preventing him from clearly discerning something he had noticed. He continued forward until he was just a step away from colliding with the mirror.
Illumined by the crimson veil-like moonlight, he turned his head and began to examine the side of his forehead. A clear reflection appeared in the mirror. There, no his temple, was a grotesque wound with burn marks around the edges, blood staining the surrounding area. Grayish-white brain matter was slowly seeping out from within.
submitted by Jaded_Being_1462 to LordofTheMysteries [link] [comments]
Even though I'm not a native English speaker, I couldn't resist the urge to translate some parts in my own way. One thing led to another, and now I have a brand new translation of Chapter One.
Now, I have a question for my fellow fans of LTOM:
- Do you think this is a much better translation that you would like to wait and use it for subtitling LOTM's audiobooks? Or
- Do you feel the difference is so minimal that you'd prefer me to use the original translation so I can release subtitled audiobooks faster?
Ouch!
Ow…ouch!
Ow…my head is killing me!
The fantastic yet surreal dream surrounded by whispering and murmuring shattered away instantly, Zhou Mingrui who was sound asleep felt an abrupt throbbing pain deep inside his head, as if his head were ruthlessly clubbed. No, it felt more like something sharp penetrated his temple, followed by twisting and stirring.
Feeling disoriented, Zhou Mingrui wanted to turn around, clutch his head, or sit up. Yet, unable to move his hands or feet, he felt like he had lost all control over his body.
Looks like I’m still in some sort of dream, didn’t really wake up… Moments later, I might even think I'm fully awake, only to realize I'm still asleep… Familiar with such experiences, Zhou Mingrui tried desperately to concentrate, hoping to break free from the grip of darkness and disorientation.
However, trapped between wakefulness and sleep, the willpower was as elusive as smoke, difficult to control and concentrate. Despite his efforts, his thoughts kept wandering wildly, with all sorts of ideas coming and going.
How could I suddenly have a headache out of nowhere in the middle of the night?
Especially one which hurts so badly!
Could it be something like a cerebral hemorrhage?
Damn, am I going to die at such a young age?
Wake up! Wake UP!
Huh? Doesn't feel as painful now? Although it still feels like a blunt knife is cutting through my brains…
Sure thing is, I won’t be able to fall asleep any more. How am I supposed to show up for work tomorrow?
Why even bother going to work? This is a legitimate headache, perfect for time off! And no need to worry about the manager's grumblings.
Put it this way, it’s not so bad after all. Yea, free time off for me!
In between the waves of throbbing pain, Zhou Mingrui gradually accumulated a sense of elusive strength. Finally, with a determined effort, he straightened his back and opened his eyes, breaking free from the state of half-sleep and half-wake.
His vision was blurry at first, then tinged with a faint crimson hue. In his line of sight, Zhou Mingrui saw a sturdy wooden desk, upon which lay an open notebook. The papers were rough and yellowed. Where the title supposed to be, there was a sentence written in strange characters, with eye-catching thick, dark ink that seemed ready to drip.
To the left of the notebook, along the edge of the desk, was a stack of seven or eight neatly arranged books. On the wall to their right, were grayish-white pipes inset into the wall, with wall lamps at their ends.
The lamps had a classical Western style, about half the size of an adult's head. It featured a transparent inner layer made of glass and an exterior grid made of black metal.
Diagonally beneath the unlit lamp, was a black ink bottle shrouded in a pale red glow.
On its embossed surface was a blurry angel figure.
In front of the ink bottle and to the right of the notebook, lay a dark-colored pen with a fully circular body. Its tip shimmered with a faint glint while its cap rested right beside a brass revolver.
A gun?
A revolver?
Zhou Mingrui was completely taken aback. Everything in front of him felt absolutely alien, nothing looked like his own room.
Shocked and confused, he came to the realization that the desk, the notebook, the ink bottle, and the revolve were all coated with a layer of crimson “veil” from the light shining through the window.
Without realizing what he was doing, he raised his head, looking up bit by bit.
In the midair, beyond the heavy smooth darkness, hung a crimson full moon, glowing silently.
Hiss… Zhou Mingrui felt inexplicably horrified, as he stood up abruptly. However, before he could fully straighten his knees, a throbbing pain struck his head, draining all his strength. He fell, with his buttocks slammed heavily back onto the burly wood chair.
The pain didn’t stop him for a moment. Zhou Mingrui popped up, turned around in a fluster, and began examining his surroundings.
The room was not big, with a brown door on both of his sides. Against the wall in front of him, was a wooden bunk bed. Between the bed and the door to the left was a cabinet with two opposing doors and five drawers beneath them.
Next to the cabinet was a pipe of the same grayish-white, inset into the wall at the height of a person. What distinct it is that it connected to a strange looking mechanical device, which had a few of gears and bearings exposed here and there.
Items resembling coal stoves, sat in the right corner of the room near the desk, along with some kitchenware such as soup pots and iron pans.
Through the right door, was a dressing mirror with a couple of cracks, standing on a wooden base emboss with simple plain patterns.
While looking around, Zhou Mingrui noticed himself in the mirror, the present him.
Dark hair, brown eyes, wearing a linen shirt, slim, average-looking features and a rather deep outline…
Hiss… Zhou Mingrui grasped the situation immediately as many helpless and confused thoughts surfaced in his mind.
The revolver, the classical European style decorations, as well as the crimson moon that looked nothing like Earth's moon—all of them were screaming the exact same thing.
Who am I?
C-could I have transmigrated?
Zhou Mingrui's mouth slowly opened wider and wider, bit by bit.
He had grown up reading web novels, even fantasized about such scenes from time to time. However, the fantasy was incredibly difficult to accept now that he found himself in one.
Classic "Talk? Yes, yes! Action? No, no!", isn’t it?
In less than a minute, Zhou Mingrui had already started to sarcastically critique, attempting to make the best of whatever situation he found himself in.
But for the throbbing headache forcing him to think fast and sharply, he would for sure be convinced that he was dreaming.
Easy, easy, easy…taking deep breaths, Zhou Mingrui was trying really hard to make himself to calm down.
Just as his mind and body began to relax, pieces of memories started to flush, slowly flooding into his consciousness.
Klein Moretti.
A citizen of the City of Tingen, Awwa County, Loen Kingdom in the Northern Continent
Recently graduated from the Department of History at Khoy University…
His father was a sergeant of the Imperial Army, who had sacrificed his life during a colonial ware with the Southern Continent. His bereavement allowance made it possible for Klein to study at a private literature school, paving the way for his admission into university…
His mother was a devotee of the Evernight Goddess, who passed away the year Klein passed the entrance examinations to Khoy University…
He also had an elder brother and a younger sister, living together in a two-bedroom apartment.
Their family was far from wealthy, and its financial situation could even be described as somewhat strained.
Currently, the family was supported solely by the elder brother who worked as a clerk at an import and export company …
As a college graduate majored in history, Klein was proficient in the ancient language of Feysac, considering the origin of all languages in the Northern Continent, as well as the language of Hermes, which was commonly found in ancient mausoleums and often associated with sacrificial scenes and praying rituals.
Hermes?!
Zhou Mingrui's mind started to race as he reached out to rub his throbbing temples.
He cast his gaze toward the desk at the opened notebook, but to realize that the strange looking characters on the yellowed paper started to look somewhat familiar, then increasingly recognizable, and finally comprehensible.
It was a statement written in Hermes!
The thick, dark ink, seemingly ready to drip, read:
“Everyone will die including me myself!”
Hiss! Zhou Mingrui felt inexplicably horrified. He instinctively leaned back, attempting to escape away from the notebook, and the ominous statement on it.
Being so weak, he almost fell down, but managed to extend his hands in a fluster to grasp the edge of the desk.
He felt that air around him air started to roar, filled with faint whispering and murmurings. It felt just like listening to horror stories told by elders when he was young.
He shook his head, telling himself that all these were nothing but an illusion. Getting back onto his feet, he looked away from the notebook while still breathing heavily.
This time, his sight landed on the shimmering brass revolver, immediately realizing something unexplainable.
With Klein's social status, in what universe he would have the money or access to buy a revolver?!
Zhou Mingrui couldn't help but furrow his brow. Deeply puzzled, his eyes were caught by a reddish handprint at the edge of the desk, which was even darker than the moonlight, as well as thicker than the “veil”.
It was a bloody handprint!
A bloody handprint?
Zhou Mingrui instinctly flipped his right hand, that was pushing against the edge of the desk. Looking at it, he saw his palm and fingers covered in blood.
In the meaning time, the throbbing pain was getting a little bit better, yet didn’t go away, binding him like one tie after another.
Did I smash and injure my head? Zhou Mingrui guessed as he turned around, walking towards the cracked dressing mirror. After just a few of steps, a medium build figure of dark hair and brown eyes appeared clearly in front of him. The person had a distinct scholarly air to him.
Is this the present me?
Klein Moretti?
Zhou Mingrui was stunned. The poor lighting of the night obscured his vision, preventing him from clearly discerning something he had noticed. He continued forward until he was just a step away from colliding with the mirror.
Illumined by the crimson veil-like moonlight, he turned his head and began to examine the side of his forehead. A clear reflection appeared in the mirror. There, no his temple, was a grotesque wound with burn marks around the edges, blood staining the surrounding area. Grayish-white brain matter was slowly seeping out from within.
2024.05.17 08:11 Sweet-Count2557 Best Things to Do in Salamanca Ny
 | Best Things to Do in Salamanca Ny Attention, fellow adventurers!We've discovered the ultimate guide to the best things to do in Salamanca, NY. Brace yourselves for an unforgettable journey through this charming city nestled in Western New York.From outdoor thrills in Allegany State Park to cultural wonders at the Seneca Allegany Casino and Seneca-Iroquois National Museum, prepare to be amazed.Nature lovers, rejoice! There are stunning parks and trails for fishing, boating, hiking, and wildlife spotting.And for a unique educational experience, don't miss Mager Mountain Alpacas.Get ready, because Salamanca is calling!Key TakeawaysAllegany State Park offers a variety of outdoor activities such as biking, boating, swimming, fishing, and winter sports.Salamanca Mall Antiques is a popular destination for antique shopping with over 15 stores filled with unique items.Seneca Allegany Casino offers a thrilling gaming experience with a wide selection of slot machines and table games.The Seneca-Iroquois National Museum provides an educational and immersive experience to learn about the history, culture, and traditions of the Seneca and Iroquois people.Discover the Natural Beauty of Allegany State ParkLet's explore the natural beauty of Allegany State Park and immerse ourselves in its breathtaking landscapes and outdoor activities. Located in Salamanca, NY, this park offers a wilderness playground for those seeking adventure and freedom. With its 64,800 acres of forest landscape, Allegany State Park is a haven for nature lovers and outdoor enthusiasts.There are so many things to do in Salamanca NY, and Allegany State Park is a must-visit destination. The park is operated by the New York State Office of Parks, Recreation, and Historic Preservation, ensuring that visitors have access to well-maintained facilities and a range of activities. Whether you enjoy biking, boating, fishing, or simply relaxing on the sandy beach, Allegany State Park has something for everyone.The park boasts 5 miles of paved bike paths, perfect for exploring the stunning scenery at your own pace. You can also rent boats and bikes to further enhance your experience. If you're in the mood for a swim, the park offers a sandy beach where you can cool off on a hot summer day.For those who prefer land-based activities, Allegany State Park has plenty to offer. From fishing to snowmobiling, walking to cross-country skiing, softball to tennis, and horseshoes to volleyball, there's no shortage of options to keep you entertained and active.As you explore the natural beauty of Allegany State Park, you'll be captivated by its serene atmosphere and breathtaking landscapes. From the towering trees to the tranquil lakes, this park is a true oasis of freedom and tranquility.Uncover Hidden Treasures at Salamanca Mall AntiquesWhen it comes to uncovering hidden treasures, Salamanca Mall Antiques is a must-visit destination.With over 1,000 dealers and a 31,000 square feet building, this antique mall offers a wide variety of unique finds.From vintage furniture to collectibles and vintage clothing, this downtown spot is a haven for souvenir shopping and a treasure trove waiting to be explored.Unique Antique FindsWe absolutely love exploring the Salamanca Mall Antiques and uncovering hidden treasures.The Salamanca Mall Antiques, established in 1982, is a must-visit destination for antique enthusiasts. With over 1,000 dealers and a massive 31,000 square feet building, this place is a treasure trove of unique finds.As we wander through the 15 stores, we're captivated by the wide variety of antiques on display. From vintage furniture to rare collectibles, there's something for everyone here.The atmosphere is inviting and the staff is knowledgeable and friendly. It's a great downtown spot for souvenir shopping, where you can find one-of-a-kind pieces that tell a story.Wide Variety of TreasuresOur favorite part about exploring Salamanca Mall Antiques is uncovering the wide variety of treasures on display. As we wander through the 31,000 square feet building, we're greeted by over 1,000 dealers offering an eclectic mix of unique antiques.From vintage clothing to antique furniture, there's something for every collector or enthusiast. The mall is a great downtown spot for souvenir shopping, with over 15 stores filled with fascinating antiques waiting to be discovered. Each booth is like a mini treasure trove, filled with hidden gems just waiting to be found.Whether you're searching for vintage jewelry, antique books, or retro home decor, Salamanca Mall Antiques is the perfect place to indulge in the freedom of exploration and uncover some truly remarkable finds.Souvenir Shopping HavenLet's explore the souvenir shopping haven at Salamanca Mall Antiques and uncover hidden treasures. Located in the heart of downtown Salamanca, this unique antique mall has been a favorite destination for collectors and souvenir hunters since 1982.With over 1,000 dealers and a sprawling 31,000 square feet building, Salamanca Mall Antiques offers a wide variety of fascinating antiques to discover.As you step inside, you'll be greeted by the charm and character of the mall. The air is filled with the scent of aged wood and history.Wander through the aisles and explore over 15 stores, each filled with their own collection of hidden gems. From vintage jewelry and clothing to antique furniture and collectibles, there's something for everyone's taste and budget.Whether you're searching for a unique gift or a special memento of your visit to Salamanca, this antique mall is the perfect place to find it.Explore the shelves, browse through the displays, and let your curiosity guide you to uncovering those hidden treasures. With its wide selection and welcoming atmosphere, Salamanca Mall Antiques truly is a souvenir shopping haven.Try Your Luck at Seneca Allegany CasinoThe Seneca Allegany Casino offers a wide array of gaming options for those looking to try their luck. Here's what you can expect when you step foot into this vibrant casino:Slot Machines: Get ready for an adrenaline rush as you explore the almost 2,000 new and fascinating slot machines. Whether you prefer classic games or the latest video slots, there's something for everyone here. Feel the excitement build as you spin the reels in hopes of landing a big win.Table Games: If you're a fan of traditional casino games, you're in luck. The Seneca Allegany Casino offers 33 exhilarating table games, including blackjack, roulette, and poker. Put your skills to the test as you strategize your way to victory against the dealer or other players.At the Seneca Allegany Casino, the possibilities are endless. With a variety of gaming options to choose from, you'll be entertained for hours on end. And when you need a break from the action, you can indulge in a delicious meal at the Thunder Mountain Buffet, offering a wide selection of mouthwatering dishes.So why wait? Head over to the Seneca Allegany Casino and let the games begin. After all, you never know when fortune may smile upon you.And if you're ready to immerse yourself in Seneca-Iroquois culture, the next stop on your Salamanca adventure is the Seneca Iroquois National Museum.Immerse Yourself in Seneca-Iroquois Culture at the National MuseumWe can explore the rich history and traditions of the Seneca-Iroquois people at the National Museum. This museum is dedicated to the preservation and promotion of the history and culture of the Seneca and Iroquois people. It showcases traditional crafts, art, and artifacts, providing an educational and eye-opening experience.To give you a glimpse of what you can expect at the National Museum, here is a table highlighting some of the exhibits and programs:Exhibit/ProgramDescriptionTraditional CraftsExplore the intricate craftsmanship of the Seneca-Iroquois people, including beadwork and pottery.Art and ArtifactsMarvel at the collection of paintings, sculptures, and historical artifacts that tell the story of the Seneca-Iroquois people.Educational WorkshopsEngage in hands-on activities and workshops that teach traditional skills and customs.Immersing yourself in the Seneca-Iroquois culture at the National Museum is a truly enlightening experience. You'll gain a deeper understanding of their history, language, music, drama, literature, arts expressions, and traditional customs. The museum's extensive collection of historical and cultural items provides a fascinating insight into the rich heritage of the Seneca and Iroquois people.As we exit the National Museum, we can transition into finding serenity at Our Lady of Peace Catholic Church, where we can explore the stunning architecture and attend Sunday mass for a moment of solemnity.Find Serenity at Our Lady of Peace Catholic ChurchAs we continue our exploration of the best things to do in Salamanca NY, let's now find serenity at Our Lady of Peace Catholic Church.This beautiful church isn't only a place of worship but also a testament to architectural beauty and design. Inside, you'll be captivated by the stunning paintings and designs that adorn the walls, while outside, the church's architecture stands as a testament to the faith and dedication of the community.Led by Reverend Patrick Melfi, attending Sunday mass at Our Lady of Peace Catholic Church is an opportunity to find solace and peace in a serene and sacred space.Architectural Beauty and DesignLocated in Salamanca, NY, Our Lady of Peace Catholic Church offers visitors the opportunity to find serenity amidst its beautiful architectural beauty and design. Step inside this stunning church and be captivated by its exquisite paintings and intricate designs.As you explore the interior, you'll be greeted by the serene atmosphere that permeates the space. The church's architectural details, from the soaring ceilings to the ornate stained glass windows, create a sense of awe and wonder.Outside, the church's facade is equally impressive, with its impressive stonework and intricate carvings. Whether you're a devout Catholic or simply appreciate the beauty of religious architecture, a visit to Our Lady of Peace Catholic Church is sure to leave you feeling inspired and uplifted.Reverend Patrick Melfi's LeadershipLet's experience the leadership of Reverend Patrick Melfi at Our Lady of Peace Catholic Church and find serenity in its beautiful surroundings. Reverend Patrick Melfi, the head of the church, provides guidance and inspiration to the parishioners. His leadership fosters a sense of community and spiritual growth within the church. The church building itself is a sight to behold, featuring stunning paintings and designs that create a serene atmosphere. As you attend Sunday mass, you can immerse yourself in a moment of solemnity and reflection. The architecture of the church is also worth exploring, with its intricate details and peaceful ambiance. Reverend Patrick Melfi's leadership at Our Lady of Peace Catholic Church offers a place of tranquility and a chance to connect with your spirituality.Reverend Patrick Melfi's LeadershipFosters a sense of community and spiritual growthStunning paintings and designs in the church buildingSunday mass for a moment of solemnityExperience Horseback Riding at The CrosspatchWe can experience horseback riding at The Crosspatch, a working horse ranch nestled in the Allegheny Mountains. Here, we can immerse ourselves in the freedom and beauty of horseback riding, surrounded by stunning views and nature's serenity.The Crosspatch offers a range of activities and services that cater to our desire for adventure and exploration:Trail rides: We can embark on guided trail rides through the picturesque mountains, winding through lush forests and open meadows. As we ride, we can feel the gentle sway of the horse beneath us, connecting with nature in a unique and exhilarating way.Horsemanship Camp: For those who want to deepen their understanding of horses and improve their riding skills, The Crosspatch offers Horsemanship Camp. Through hands-on instruction and interactive activities, we can learn about horse care, grooming, and riding techniques. This immersive experience allows us to forge a deeper bond with these majestic animals.Wagon and carriage rides: If we prefer a more leisurely pace, we can opt for wagon or carriage rides. These charming and nostalgic experiences take us back in time as we leisurely explore the scenic surroundings. It's a perfect way to relax and enjoy the beauty of the Allegheny Mountains.At The Crosspatch, we can escape the confines of everyday life and embrace the freedom of horseback riding. Whether we're beginners seeking a new adventure or experienced riders looking to connect with nature, this working horse ranch offers an unforgettable experience. So saddle up, breathe in the fresh mountain air, and let the rhythm of hoofbeats carry us away on a journey of freedom and discovery.Frequently Asked QuestionsWhat Is the History Behind the Establishment of Allegany State Park?The history behind the establishment of Allegany State Park is fascinating. On July 30, 1921, the park was created on a vast 64,800-acre forest landscape. It's operated by the New York State Office of Parks, Recreation, and Historic Preservation.Allegany State Park is known as the wilderness playground of Western New York. With activities like fishing, biking, swimming, and more, it offers a perfect escape to nature and a chance to explore the beauty of the great outdoors.How Many Dealers Are Currently Present at Salamanca Mall Antiques?There are currently over 1,000 dealers at Salamanca Mall Antiques. It's an exciting place to explore with its wide variety of unique antiques.The downtown location makes it a great spot for souvenir shopping. As you walk through the 15 stores, you'll find fascinating items that will surely catch your attention.Whether you're a collector or just enjoy browsing, Salamanca Mall Antiques offers a treasure trove of discoveries.What Are the Dining Options Available at Seneca Allegany Casino?There are several dining options available at Seneca Allegany Casino. The Thunder Mountain Buffet is a popular choice, offering a wide variety of delicious dishes. Whether you're in the mood for a hearty meal or a quick snack, the casino has you covered.From casual dining to fine dining experiences, there's something for everyone. So, after trying your luck at the casino, make sure to indulge in a satisfying meal at one of their fantastic restaurants.Who Is the Head of Our Lady of Peace Catholic Church?The head of Our Lady of Peace Catholic Church is Reverend Patrick Melfi.He leads the parish center, which was established in Salamanca, NY in 2014.When visiting Salamanca, make sure to attend Sunday mass at this beautiful church.You'll be able to experience a moment of solemnity and admire the stunning paintings and designs that adorn the building.The architecture of the church is truly breathtaking.What Other Services Does the Crosspatch Offer Besides Horseback Riding?The Crosspatch, besides offering horseback riding with stunning views, also provides a range of other horse-related services.For example, they offer wagon and carriage rides, allowing visitors to explore the beautiful Allegheny Mountains in a unique and nostalgic way.Additionally, they offer a Horsemanship Camp, where individuals can learn more about horsemanship skills and develop a deeper connection with these magnificent animals.These additional services at The Crosspatch provide even more opportunities for an unforgettable experience in Salamanca, NY.ConclusionIn conclusion, Salamanca, NY offers a wide range of attractions and activities that cater to every interest. Whether you're a nature enthusiast, a history buff, or a thrill-seeker, this charming city has something for you.For example, imagine hiking through the scenic trails of Allegany State Park and stumbling upon a breathtaking waterfall. The beauty of nature combined with the rich cultural experiences in Salamanca will leave you with unforgettable memories.So pack your bags and embark on an exciting journey to explore the best of Salamanca, NY! submitted by Sweet-Count2557 to worldkidstravel [link] [comments] |
2024.05.17 08:10 chonkshonk Why written debate is better than live debate
My take is that live debate flourishes in the apologetic/counter-apologetic scene where little if any progress is ever made whereas the written mode of debate dominates all scholarly fields of intellectual inquiry, including the sciences, social sciences, and humanities. Written exchange of ideas among academics is formalized through the peer-review process of writing and publishing papers.
Apologists/counter-apologists of all varieties of nuttery (flat-earth, creationism, take your pick) usually demand you debate them or their favorite guy live. Their favorite guy is also doing their part in demanding the live debate happens to EXPOSE you. Even if they themselves aren't using EXPOSE- or DESTROYED WITH FACTS AND LOGIC-type language, the audience cheering them on sure is.
Unfortunately, live/public debate is usually purely theatrical and not a genuine truth-seeking process. It's obvious, just from the format of it alone, that being "right" is far from the leading determinant in who actually turns out to be the "winner". Here are a variety of other factors that play a substantial role in who ends up "dominating" a debate:
Another major flaw in live debates is that it's incredibly easy to caricature the outcome in the eyes of the audience after the debate itself has taken place. Even if you had the edge throughout a whole 2-hour debate, you better hope that there's not a 30-second segment that could be pulled in isolation or out of context that makes you look like an idiot or portrays you as having been DESTROYED. There's also the fact that the more popular your opponent is, the more likely that they'll have an army of mindless minions spamming particular clips or claims about the outcome of a debate.
Written debate is not necessarily perfect but almost all of the above issues become a non-factor in written debate. You don't need to have good on-the-spot memory or be a fast speaker: you can take your time in composing your response and checking over your sources. People who are not articulate in their speech have all the time they need to produce concise and articulate written responses. You have a substantial amount of time to carefully review your opponents arguments and sources before writing and sending off your response. Why shouldn't I be able to take my time and look things up during a debate? Does the interlocutor worry that if I do so, I will find out that they are wrong? You also have the ability to gauge third-party opinion before putting forwards your response. Let's say my opponent cites some paper written in German to support their argument. My German is pretty bad, so I contact a friend proficient in German to help me out here. I clearly cannot do that during a live debate, but it may definitely help in getting to the bottom of the claim being made.
One might object that it's easier to draw an audience in to a live debate as opposed to a written debate. Of course, that ties into my earlier point that live debate is theateentertainment and not a careful truth-seeking process. In any case, all debate that occurs on this and any other subreddit on this website is a written form of debate and there's no shortage of people engaged in that. There are even "Debate" subreddits, like DebateReligion and DebateEvolution and changemyview. Even then, there are certainly video-style exchanges of arguments that are vastly superior to live debate: for example, let's say two people wanted to debate the existence of God. Person A begins by uploading a 30-minute video laying out their argument for God's existence. Person B has one week to produce a response video. And so on and so forth. This was actually done in some capacity between the youtubers RationalityRules (atheist) and CapturingChristianity (Christian). The problem with live debate is not entirely to do with the in-front-of-an-audience- or video- element of its presentation. The issue mostly lies in the live/instantaneous part of it. Of course, a lot of people also have no interest in taking the time needed to produce such back-and-forth videos to begin with, or appearing in them, but are happy to write written rebuttals (which allows you to waste much less time on features not really relevant to the argument itself such as video editing and uploading etc).
There's a reason why scientists and other professionals almost uniformly exchange ideas and debate in writing, not by calling each other out in front of audiences or in videos. A good recent case of a written rebuttal in the field of Qur'anic studies is Nicolai Sinai's new paper "The Christian Elephant in the Meccan Room: Dye, Tesei, and Shoemaker on the Date of the Qurʾān" (https://www.degruyter.com/document/doi/10.1515/jiqsa-2023-0013/html). This paper is an excellent exemplar of how a rigorous, genuine, and intellectually honest exchange of ideas should take place.
If anyone disagrees with me, I am happy to have a written debate with them on this topic in the comments below :)
submitted by chonkshonk to AcademicQuran [link] [comments]
Apologists/counter-apologists of all varieties of nuttery (flat-earth, creationism, take your pick) usually demand you debate them or their favorite guy live. Their favorite guy is also doing their part in demanding the live debate happens to EXPOSE you. Even if they themselves aren't using EXPOSE- or DESTROYED WITH FACTS AND LOGIC-type language, the audience cheering them on sure is.
Unfortunately, live/public debate is usually purely theatrical and not a genuine truth-seeking process. It's obvious, just from the format of it alone, that being "right" is far from the leading determinant in who actually turns out to be the "winner". Here are a variety of other factors that play a substantial role in who ends up "dominating" a debate:
- The person whose speech is more articulate and rhetorically-skilled.
- The more live debates you have, the more rhetorically skilled you get — but the number of live debates you've had clearly has no relationship to whether you're right or not. But it does relate to whether you'll win the current debate if you have an opponent with less or no experience in live debate.
- Being more articulate has no relationship with whether or not you're right, but it makes it more likely that you'll win a debate in the eyes of the audience watching the debate.
- The person who can speak faster.
- This person simply can get more of their own points in or rebut more points their opponent made during the limited available speaking time. Being a fast talker also makes it harder for your opponent to keep up.
- The person with a better memory/recall.
- This refers to the more that you are able to remember what you've read, seen, or heard in the past on-the-spot during the debate. Let's say persons X and Y are debating. Person X makes a false claim, and Person Y knows that they've read research refuting that false claim, but isn't able to clearly recall, in the moment, the necessary details that they would need to point out from their previous reading in order to rebut Person Xs claim during the actual debate.
- The better rationalizer.
- The better you can rationalize or explain-away evidence contrary to your views, the more likely you are to evade your opponents arguments, even if they're really strong. This especially works if you can do it in obscure ways that are unlikely to have been encountered and therefore thought over before the debate occurs.
Another major flaw in live debates is that it's incredibly easy to caricature the outcome in the eyes of the audience after the debate itself has taken place. Even if you had the edge throughout a whole 2-hour debate, you better hope that there's not a 30-second segment that could be pulled in isolation or out of context that makes you look like an idiot or portrays you as having been DESTROYED. There's also the fact that the more popular your opponent is, the more likely that they'll have an army of mindless minions spamming particular clips or claims about the outcome of a debate.
Written debate is not necessarily perfect but almost all of the above issues become a non-factor in written debate. You don't need to have good on-the-spot memory or be a fast speaker: you can take your time in composing your response and checking over your sources. People who are not articulate in their speech have all the time they need to produce concise and articulate written responses. You have a substantial amount of time to carefully review your opponents arguments and sources before writing and sending off your response. Why shouldn't I be able to take my time and look things up during a debate? Does the interlocutor worry that if I do so, I will find out that they are wrong? You also have the ability to gauge third-party opinion before putting forwards your response. Let's say my opponent cites some paper written in German to support their argument. My German is pretty bad, so I contact a friend proficient in German to help me out here. I clearly cannot do that during a live debate, but it may definitely help in getting to the bottom of the claim being made.
One might object that it's easier to draw an audience in to a live debate as opposed to a written debate. Of course, that ties into my earlier point that live debate is theateentertainment and not a careful truth-seeking process. In any case, all debate that occurs on this and any other subreddit on this website is a written form of debate and there's no shortage of people engaged in that. There are even "Debate" subreddits, like DebateReligion and DebateEvolution and changemyview. Even then, there are certainly video-style exchanges of arguments that are vastly superior to live debate: for example, let's say two people wanted to debate the existence of God. Person A begins by uploading a 30-minute video laying out their argument for God's existence. Person B has one week to produce a response video. And so on and so forth. This was actually done in some capacity between the youtubers RationalityRules (atheist) and CapturingChristianity (Christian). The problem with live debate is not entirely to do with the in-front-of-an-audience- or video- element of its presentation. The issue mostly lies in the live/instantaneous part of it. Of course, a lot of people also have no interest in taking the time needed to produce such back-and-forth videos to begin with, or appearing in them, but are happy to write written rebuttals (which allows you to waste much less time on features not really relevant to the argument itself such as video editing and uploading etc).
There's a reason why scientists and other professionals almost uniformly exchange ideas and debate in writing, not by calling each other out in front of audiences or in videos. A good recent case of a written rebuttal in the field of Qur'anic studies is Nicolai Sinai's new paper "The Christian Elephant in the Meccan Room: Dye, Tesei, and Shoemaker on the Date of the Qurʾān" (https://www.degruyter.com/document/doi/10.1515/jiqsa-2023-0013/html). This paper is an excellent exemplar of how a rigorous, genuine, and intellectually honest exchange of ideas should take place.
If anyone disagrees with me, I am happy to have a written debate with them on this topic in the comments below :)
2024.05.17 07:51 SuperGrapefruit6563 AITA
Bare with me as with might be a long and confusing story.
Was with my ex fiancé 25 male (I am 27 female) for almost 6 years. I gave birth to our beautiful daughter 2 years ago. I had many concerns about my ex fiancé since the first day when he called her a bitch in the hospital ( this is the day she was born) I remember feeling absolutely sick to my stomach. ( I will also add that he was not present for the birth of our daughter which I constantly feel guilty about; I had previously made jokes that I did not want him in the room I was not serious at the time but truthfully I already felt so violated I didn't want him seeing what i imagine was a horrific scene) I actually did kick him out of the delivery room but only because he was cussing at me and screaming at me about five minutes before I was about to push, this was the only time I ever cried during labor, and told him to please just leave.
He went to the waiting area and came back shortly after I had my daughter The first thing he said to me is how his mother and whole family said, I was crazy for not allowing him in the delivery room, note, his mom is extremely malicious, manipulative, psychotic narcissist, who demands control of everything if she doesn't get it, she loses her mind but we will get to that part later.
Fast forward to get home from the hospital and the first six months of my daughters life were hell only because of her father he would constantly threaten to break her legs or neck when she was crying. He rarely helped me. I stayed up every night all night when she was a reverse cycling . He constantly insulted me made me feel worthless. One day when we were having a fairly great day he randomly said to me no man would want to be with me because I had a child. He he wanted me to stay home, but as I wanted to contribute, I tried to go back to work a few months later. It was only about three days a week, this lasted for maybe a month his mom would come over during this period of time and his mom physically caught him one morning screaming "shut the fuck up bitch" at our then 3 month old baby.she texted me about it followed by delete this text. I was very naive since I actually deleted the text which i really regret as we are in a custody battle and this would have really helped me out. I know the most shameful part is I know I should've left much sooner I should've left the first time he her called her a bitch but I kept thinking if I continued to talk to him about it, he would get better but it only got worse Me and my daughter end up leaving for a few weeks after physical altercation with her father we stayed with my mom, but after a lot of convincing from her father. We were returned not long after. This did not last long as once again we left permanently about a month after this. From the beginning of us, not getting along and me leaving the first time his mother posted publicly to Facebook and tagged my parents in psychotic rambling post about how terrible a person I am she would send me actual novels number one through 20 of every single thing that's wrong with me
I usually don't stand up for myself but to her I did, I didn't care. She was so absolutely evil and such a narcissist, calling me the worst names I would clarify and correct her often Anyways, while at my mom's house I received a call from my daughters father in the middle of the night He said "you really fucked up this time" screaming you can tell he was in the car driving very fast I was terrified I repeatedly I called him and his mom I believed was coming to harm us and had no idea what he was talking about Turns out, he thinks I myself , or sent someone to his home, or the home we lived in previously to steal his guns, which I would never do I thought this is a just another way for them to continue harassing me even after I had left turns out investigators came to my house twice and I gave them the full story and even suggested his mom did it because I truly believe she did have part in that and wanted to try to get me in trouble anyway she could as is her motive Due to all the concerns I had I did file for primary not sole, but primary custody of my daughter with him having visitation Instead of responding to this one day when I dropped my daughter off on the two days a week, he would have her his mother and her attorney with held my daughter and wouldn't give her back until I signed what but feels like a blackmailing document just to get my daughter back in court this is referred to as under duress In this document, there were so many stipulations, but only to me he would get temporary split custody. Also, they listed my own family members in that could never be around my daughter, their own family. After a judge denied the order for emergency temporary custody they still refused to return her which is why I had to sign the document I hadn't been separated from my daughter, for maybe more than 36 hours in her life now at eight months old, she has been taken from me for more than a week. Signing that document was the hardest thing ever for me, but I couldn't stand to be a part for my daughter any longer His mom continued daily, if not more to make psychotic post about me, and my family post memes about me claiming I owed her money for a car that she bought for me 5 years prior And in five years no one had ever mentioned this car until she was angry. Made post about suing me for the car and I also responded Where are the documents? Where is the contract? I didn't sign anything. His family/mom has money, and she looks down very much and everyone else. In may the same year he was arrested for some very violent scary crimes. I won't go into detail too much, but assault with a deadly weapon with intent to kill along with many other charges, kind of sums it up over a random road rage incident with an individual he did not even know.
His bond was very low and he was out within hours still had the same job We went to court for this and what the judge determined is not what happened his attorney, much like every trial would call the judge afterwards and get him to change his mind or send him a document to sign even after signing previous documents likely because this judge didn't care to read through anything His mother continued to make my life a living hell I just wanted so badly to be out of this no more stress no more mental and emotional decay. She actually sent messages to someone one of them was 20,000 words long about me breaking into his car, putting trackers in his car, breaking into his brothers car, smashing his mailbox, paying people to go inside of his job and tell him he was going to kill him , trying to get someone to run him off the road and my favorite hiring someone who he was in the road rage incident with
Obviously this never occurred because if it did, they would have a party to and call the police to get me in trouble as once again this is mothers main goal
During this time, she also sent fake screenshots of text messages allegedly from me to my ex fiancé. They were very obviously fake not the way either of us would ever text/ incorrect contact names no timestamps we also both have iPhones. The messages are green, but she kept insisting the person reviewing the text to " show me show me " a.k.a. harassment my attorney advised me not to say anything they would have her deposed then ask why she's doing this get her to say it on camera, and that was the best way however, after filing for deposition, she actually tried to file for a protection order from ME and no one went through with anything.
I know I can't actually blame this on her, but whenever I was driving without my daughter in the car of my brain would not stop. All I did was rack my brain of what her calculated motive was for sending these text messages they terrified me I thought she was going to murder me, my daughter or son After leaving my third day of a new job and I wrecked my car so bad it was totaled and I am lucky to be alive this same morning I recall telling my friend that morning at work that there's something wrong with me I couldn't sleep I couldn't eat this woman was actually tearing me apart and I thought I was going to get in a car accident. She would text me this whole time pretending to be her son from her sons phone number just crazy long harassing messages when I was at work, she pulled a million stunts trying to make me look bad just would not stop at all costs when was determined to take my daughter for herself. It was very clear she ruined her first child and she wanted another try After filing for her to be deposed, she is now suing me for allegedly over $30,000 which I do not have for the car that she claims I owed money on as well as back rent, which I never agreed to I would pay contributions whenever I could because her son paid nothing for rent or other expenses however there was never an agreement. Recently, during mediation for her suing me, she pulled out false contracts with many errors wrong address, wrong dates for example this car was totaled on Christmas day of 2018. Due to someone rear ending me, the contracts she falsified have a date of January 2019 but why would I sign contracts for a car that was already totaled and no longer in existence she also for forged signatures so terribly it was actually insulting
My attorney could already tell that that was a forged contract because the signatures we're not mine and I stated I would not be paying her a dime as I would like her to get in trouble for fraud, falsifying, documents, and forgery. I'll actually look forward to court even though it's wasting me a whole lot of time and money Which is exactly what she wants.
The worst part of this is a few weeks prior my daughters father has been kind of friendly, which was odd. He wanted to go to movies, I thought, as friends, and was kind of happy to be over with the hateful drama, but he didn't want to just be friends, and I very stupidly, went along with us not realizing in my heart I still had feelings for him After this mediation, which he knew was going to happen, and I knew I was going to make it clear I did not sign anything he got mad and said after promising multiple times and trying to convince me we just need to make rebuild our family trust each other again nothing else matters I foolishly believed him until the day of mediation when he got mad that I did exactly what I said, I was going to do, and said we should try this again when all the court stuff is done, I have never felt so stupid and angry and betrayed in my life I sent him a long text detailing everything that happened the fact that I was reluctant and said no and I resisted he was and he promised this was best for everyone to do and for our daughter to have her parents together and I just wanted my daughter have the best life possible
After ignoring him for a few days, he said he's gonna come over to talk and once again, couldn't make it has he's done many times in the past and said we could do it another day because he had to go to another boys night/meeting with his coworkers, but he was actually going to be drinking and getting fucked up couldn't even take an hour to come talk and see our daughter Fast fwd to tonight and while he was with these friends, I was so infuriated and beyond done I said to him several text messages explaining how terrible he had been a human being, and how stupid I was to actually believe him how we have never had a future after this, and I didn't know I had in my life ever again Embarrassingly they are very, very long text and I like quadruple texted. Haven't heard a word from him I don't think I will and once again the most embarrassing I feel I still have feelings for him, which makes me so angry. I wish he just left me alone and never tried to start anything again I was fine until I agreed to start this all over again I am so devastated and so sad, I wish I had never met him The only thing I'm grateful for is our daughter but I feel badly. Just want these feelings to go away. I'm so upset I've been crying I just don't understand how he could tell me how sorry he was and how much he loved me and just staring and holding me for hours to now three weeks later, going right back up his mom's ass as he will clearly always side with her and never me
This is my first Reddit Post- admittedly, it's very scrambled and this might b more of I fucked up situation or am I an asshole for actually giving him another chance. Keep in mind we still have to go to court for permanent custody and other things. What should I do? I want so badly to ignore him and to not have any feelings for him again but he is the only person I have ever truly loved He now has quite an ego currently of having the upper hand, as I believe he just wanted see if I would take him back and I did and that's all the validation he needed.
submitted by SuperGrapefruit6563 to AITAH [link] [comments]
Was with my ex fiancé 25 male (I am 27 female) for almost 6 years. I gave birth to our beautiful daughter 2 years ago. I had many concerns about my ex fiancé since the first day when he called her a bitch in the hospital ( this is the day she was born) I remember feeling absolutely sick to my stomach. ( I will also add that he was not present for the birth of our daughter which I constantly feel guilty about; I had previously made jokes that I did not want him in the room I was not serious at the time but truthfully I already felt so violated I didn't want him seeing what i imagine was a horrific scene) I actually did kick him out of the delivery room but only because he was cussing at me and screaming at me about five minutes before I was about to push, this was the only time I ever cried during labor, and told him to please just leave.
He went to the waiting area and came back shortly after I had my daughter The first thing he said to me is how his mother and whole family said, I was crazy for not allowing him in the delivery room, note, his mom is extremely malicious, manipulative, psychotic narcissist, who demands control of everything if she doesn't get it, she loses her mind but we will get to that part later.
Fast forward to get home from the hospital and the first six months of my daughters life were hell only because of her father he would constantly threaten to break her legs or neck when she was crying. He rarely helped me. I stayed up every night all night when she was a reverse cycling . He constantly insulted me made me feel worthless. One day when we were having a fairly great day he randomly said to me no man would want to be with me because I had a child. He he wanted me to stay home, but as I wanted to contribute, I tried to go back to work a few months later. It was only about three days a week, this lasted for maybe a month his mom would come over during this period of time and his mom physically caught him one morning screaming "shut the fuck up bitch" at our then 3 month old baby.she texted me about it followed by delete this text. I was very naive since I actually deleted the text which i really regret as we are in a custody battle and this would have really helped me out. I know the most shameful part is I know I should've left much sooner I should've left the first time he her called her a bitch but I kept thinking if I continued to talk to him about it, he would get better but it only got worse Me and my daughter end up leaving for a few weeks after physical altercation with her father we stayed with my mom, but after a lot of convincing from her father. We were returned not long after. This did not last long as once again we left permanently about a month after this. From the beginning of us, not getting along and me leaving the first time his mother posted publicly to Facebook and tagged my parents in psychotic rambling post about how terrible a person I am she would send me actual novels number one through 20 of every single thing that's wrong with me
I usually don't stand up for myself but to her I did, I didn't care. She was so absolutely evil and such a narcissist, calling me the worst names I would clarify and correct her often Anyways, while at my mom's house I received a call from my daughters father in the middle of the night He said "you really fucked up this time" screaming you can tell he was in the car driving very fast I was terrified I repeatedly I called him and his mom I believed was coming to harm us and had no idea what he was talking about Turns out, he thinks I myself , or sent someone to his home, or the home we lived in previously to steal his guns, which I would never do I thought this is a just another way for them to continue harassing me even after I had left turns out investigators came to my house twice and I gave them the full story and even suggested his mom did it because I truly believe she did have part in that and wanted to try to get me in trouble anyway she could as is her motive Due to all the concerns I had I did file for primary not sole, but primary custody of my daughter with him having visitation Instead of responding to this one day when I dropped my daughter off on the two days a week, he would have her his mother and her attorney with held my daughter and wouldn't give her back until I signed what but feels like a blackmailing document just to get my daughter back in court this is referred to as under duress In this document, there were so many stipulations, but only to me he would get temporary split custody. Also, they listed my own family members in that could never be around my daughter, their own family. After a judge denied the order for emergency temporary custody they still refused to return her which is why I had to sign the document I hadn't been separated from my daughter, for maybe more than 36 hours in her life now at eight months old, she has been taken from me for more than a week. Signing that document was the hardest thing ever for me, but I couldn't stand to be a part for my daughter any longer His mom continued daily, if not more to make psychotic post about me, and my family post memes about me claiming I owed her money for a car that she bought for me 5 years prior And in five years no one had ever mentioned this car until she was angry. Made post about suing me for the car and I also responded Where are the documents? Where is the contract? I didn't sign anything. His family/mom has money, and she looks down very much and everyone else. In may the same year he was arrested for some very violent scary crimes. I won't go into detail too much, but assault with a deadly weapon with intent to kill along with many other charges, kind of sums it up over a random road rage incident with an individual he did not even know.
His bond was very low and he was out within hours still had the same job We went to court for this and what the judge determined is not what happened his attorney, much like every trial would call the judge afterwards and get him to change his mind or send him a document to sign even after signing previous documents likely because this judge didn't care to read through anything His mother continued to make my life a living hell I just wanted so badly to be out of this no more stress no more mental and emotional decay. She actually sent messages to someone one of them was 20,000 words long about me breaking into his car, putting trackers in his car, breaking into his brothers car, smashing his mailbox, paying people to go inside of his job and tell him he was going to kill him , trying to get someone to run him off the road and my favorite hiring someone who he was in the road rage incident with
Obviously this never occurred because if it did, they would have a party to and call the police to get me in trouble as once again this is mothers main goal
During this time, she also sent fake screenshots of text messages allegedly from me to my ex fiancé. They were very obviously fake not the way either of us would ever text/ incorrect contact names no timestamps we also both have iPhones. The messages are green, but she kept insisting the person reviewing the text to " show me show me " a.k.a. harassment my attorney advised me not to say anything they would have her deposed then ask why she's doing this get her to say it on camera, and that was the best way however, after filing for deposition, she actually tried to file for a protection order from ME and no one went through with anything.
I know I can't actually blame this on her, but whenever I was driving without my daughter in the car of my brain would not stop. All I did was rack my brain of what her calculated motive was for sending these text messages they terrified me I thought she was going to murder me, my daughter or son After leaving my third day of a new job and I wrecked my car so bad it was totaled and I am lucky to be alive this same morning I recall telling my friend that morning at work that there's something wrong with me I couldn't sleep I couldn't eat this woman was actually tearing me apart and I thought I was going to get in a car accident. She would text me this whole time pretending to be her son from her sons phone number just crazy long harassing messages when I was at work, she pulled a million stunts trying to make me look bad just would not stop at all costs when was determined to take my daughter for herself. It was very clear she ruined her first child and she wanted another try After filing for her to be deposed, she is now suing me for allegedly over $30,000 which I do not have for the car that she claims I owed money on as well as back rent, which I never agreed to I would pay contributions whenever I could because her son paid nothing for rent or other expenses however there was never an agreement. Recently, during mediation for her suing me, she pulled out false contracts with many errors wrong address, wrong dates for example this car was totaled on Christmas day of 2018. Due to someone rear ending me, the contracts she falsified have a date of January 2019 but why would I sign contracts for a car that was already totaled and no longer in existence she also for forged signatures so terribly it was actually insulting
My attorney could already tell that that was a forged contract because the signatures we're not mine and I stated I would not be paying her a dime as I would like her to get in trouble for fraud, falsifying, documents, and forgery. I'll actually look forward to court even though it's wasting me a whole lot of time and money Which is exactly what she wants.
The worst part of this is a few weeks prior my daughters father has been kind of friendly, which was odd. He wanted to go to movies, I thought, as friends, and was kind of happy to be over with the hateful drama, but he didn't want to just be friends, and I very stupidly, went along with us not realizing in my heart I still had feelings for him After this mediation, which he knew was going to happen, and I knew I was going to make it clear I did not sign anything he got mad and said after promising multiple times and trying to convince me we just need to make rebuild our family trust each other again nothing else matters I foolishly believed him until the day of mediation when he got mad that I did exactly what I said, I was going to do, and said we should try this again when all the court stuff is done, I have never felt so stupid and angry and betrayed in my life I sent him a long text detailing everything that happened the fact that I was reluctant and said no and I resisted he was and he promised this was best for everyone to do and for our daughter to have her parents together and I just wanted my daughter have the best life possible
After ignoring him for a few days, he said he's gonna come over to talk and once again, couldn't make it has he's done many times in the past and said we could do it another day because he had to go to another boys night/meeting with his coworkers, but he was actually going to be drinking and getting fucked up couldn't even take an hour to come talk and see our daughter Fast fwd to tonight and while he was with these friends, I was so infuriated and beyond done I said to him several text messages explaining how terrible he had been a human being, and how stupid I was to actually believe him how we have never had a future after this, and I didn't know I had in my life ever again Embarrassingly they are very, very long text and I like quadruple texted. Haven't heard a word from him I don't think I will and once again the most embarrassing I feel I still have feelings for him, which makes me so angry. I wish he just left me alone and never tried to start anything again I was fine until I agreed to start this all over again I am so devastated and so sad, I wish I had never met him The only thing I'm grateful for is our daughter but I feel badly. Just want these feelings to go away. I'm so upset I've been crying I just don't understand how he could tell me how sorry he was and how much he loved me and just staring and holding me for hours to now three weeks later, going right back up his mom's ass as he will clearly always side with her and never me
This is my first Reddit Post- admittedly, it's very scrambled and this might b more of I fucked up situation or am I an asshole for actually giving him another chance. Keep in mind we still have to go to court for permanent custody and other things. What should I do? I want so badly to ignore him and to not have any feelings for him again but he is the only person I have ever truly loved He now has quite an ego currently of having the upper hand, as I believe he just wanted see if I would take him back and I did and that's all the validation he needed.
2024.05.17 07:49 Kossamuuuu Y0r.04D43_}/4Lr3}y^^P.1
Dear Michael. Nah man,just kidding. How’s Cali?Got any hot ass girls on her knees yet;) Shit,it’s been what,2 years now?It’s not the same without you man,Ik it’s corny af to say but I miss you. I’m sorry that I didn’t write back to you earlier,but I’ve been busy,I can’t really write letters when a girl is bouncing on ma yk yk;)Jokes aside,my mom’s health got worse..And now,she’s looking up at me..
Anyway,I heard from Luce that you’re coming back in 2 weeks right?So I was thinking if you have time over when you’re here then maybe we could go to that old bunker with the fuckin sacrifice temple shit in it? And just so you know..Elia is..Dead.
You probably knew that already but after what happened to your sister…I just couldn’t allow you back here without knowing that Elia is dead. V3Nghttps://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nemesis 1137<
Holy fuck,Victor. You finally answered after 3 months?!Man I mean the girls must have been all over you,haha! I’m sorry to hear about your mother..Although I must ask,why the fuck is she looking UP at you? Did she beat yo ass that often?
Anyway I wrote to Lucy that I was coming back first because I knew you wouldn’t answer,so I thought maybe if you hear that I’m coming back you would get your fat ass up from the couch and write back!Seems I was right after all;) I would absolutely fucking love to explore that place again!I will be seeing you the first day I get there alright?I miss Italy so much man,the USA sucks.
But for the LAST FUCKING TIME,it’s not a sacrificial temple altar shit in the bunker,it’s a shrine dedicated to Nemesis for fucks sake! I guess you Germans don’t know that;)Not that I’m definitely not a German too..;)
And..Yes,I knew about Elia..That bitch deserved it to be honest.I know that she and your brother was close but come one,you both hated her! Matt didn’t deserve to get dragged into their drama like that,Elia started it all that day.. Anyway I guess we shouldn’t hold grudges:) I’ll see ya soon though!
P.s what happened to your auto correct?Why you dragging Mythology into this man?;) //Your (definitely not German) friend:)
2003/02/6 Thursday 14:15 Session 6 -Audio Log Translate-
“It’s been..Though..I-I”
“It’s alright Michael,we’re only recording for safety measures okay?”
“Yeah-I-I know..”
“Take a deep breath,like we practiced”
-Inaudible-
“You ready?”
“Yes,I think so..”
“Alright,Michael,for the recording could you just introduce yourself?”
“Yeah-My name is Michael..I’m 18 and I live in -REDACTED-“
“Thank you,Michael.Now..Could you tell me about what happened that day?”
“What-What day?”
“On September 4th,2002?Do you remember that day?”
“Yeah..Yes,I do.”
“Good,now let’s see..What do you feel comfortable talking about,when it comes to the incident?”
“Well…It wasn’t late at night..I had arrived at Rome just 2 days before..”
“Go on,Michael.”
“We went to visit…The place.”
“Do you mean the -REDACTED-https://web.archive.org/web/20161014192447/http://www.panoramio.com/map/#lt=45.419224&ln=10.302933&z=4&k=2”
“NO-NO DONT SAY-“
“Okay,calm down M-“
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”
“Michael you’ll-“
-Sounds of voices-
“Get off me!Please!She’ll come for us!She knows!FROM HER THERES IS NO ESCAPE!”
“Michael,calm down!”
“NO,YOU DONT-“
“Okay-He needs to rest,take him to his room.”
“No!Please!You fucker!!You don’t know what you’ve done!”
2003/02/6 Thursday 14:34 Session 6 -NOTES- •Patient showed signs of Paranoia/Delusions and extremely violent behaviour. •Patient is unwilling to engage in deep conversation •Hallucinations and anxiety are present in patient •Patient has verbal triggers Comment
•I suggest that we test for schizophrenia,anxiety and I will be continuing to monitor the patient.HES showing obvious signs of PTSD.Based on his experiences this is not something that has taken me by surprise. Trial is still ongoing,patient had a deep relationship with -REDACTED-.
He seems to be having so called “Messiah” delusions,he thinks that a god/goddess/higher power is after him/he is a god or a messiah. Will be under monitoring for now on. //Dr.1van
111.555(68^
2/0/0/3/0/2/6/4/1/4/3/4 N3m1XssIz7* From her,there is no escape. GUILTY GUILTY GUILTY E*71AGtgg6 V1,C67O M-22ichk33 GUILTY GUILTY GUILTY GUILTY From her,there is no escape. Ex ea non est effugium Ex ea non est effugium Reus Reus Reus Aut Vincere Aut Mori Reus Mori
submitted by Kossamuuuu to AmateurHorrorStories [link] [comments]
Anyway,I heard from Luce that you’re coming back in 2 weeks right?So I was thinking if you have time over when you’re here then maybe we could go to that old bunker with the fuckin sacrifice temple shit in it? And just so you know..Elia is..Dead.
You probably knew that already but after what happened to your sister…I just couldn’t allow you back here without knowing that Elia is dead. V3Nghttps://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nemesis 1137<
Holy fuck,Victor. You finally answered after 3 months?!Man I mean the girls must have been all over you,haha! I’m sorry to hear about your mother..Although I must ask,why the fuck is she looking UP at you? Did she beat yo ass that often?
Anyway I wrote to Lucy that I was coming back first because I knew you wouldn’t answer,so I thought maybe if you hear that I’m coming back you would get your fat ass up from the couch and write back!Seems I was right after all;) I would absolutely fucking love to explore that place again!I will be seeing you the first day I get there alright?I miss Italy so much man,the USA sucks.
But for the LAST FUCKING TIME,it’s not a sacrificial temple altar shit in the bunker,it’s a shrine dedicated to Nemesis for fucks sake! I guess you Germans don’t know that;)Not that I’m definitely not a German too..;)
And..Yes,I knew about Elia..That bitch deserved it to be honest.I know that she and your brother was close but come one,you both hated her! Matt didn’t deserve to get dragged into their drama like that,Elia started it all that day.. Anyway I guess we shouldn’t hold grudges:) I’ll see ya soon though!
P.s what happened to your auto correct?Why you dragging Mythology into this man?;) //Your (definitely not German) friend:)
2003/02/6 Thursday 14:15 Session 6 -Audio Log Translate-
“It’s been..Though..I-I”
“It’s alright Michael,we’re only recording for safety measures okay?”
“Yeah-I-I know..”
“Take a deep breath,like we practiced”
-Inaudible-
“You ready?”
“Yes,I think so..”
“Alright,Michael,for the recording could you just introduce yourself?”
“Yeah-My name is Michael..I’m 18 and I live in -REDACTED-“
“Thank you,Michael.Now..Could you tell me about what happened that day?”
“What-What day?”
“On September 4th,2002?Do you remember that day?”
“Yeah..Yes,I do.”
“Good,now let’s see..What do you feel comfortable talking about,when it comes to the incident?”
“Well…It wasn’t late at night..I had arrived at Rome just 2 days before..”
“Go on,Michael.”
“We went to visit…The place.”
“Do you mean the -REDACTED-https://web.archive.org/web/20161014192447/http://www.panoramio.com/map/#lt=45.419224&ln=10.302933&z=4&k=2”
“NO-NO DONT SAY-“
“Okay,calm down M-“
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”
“Michael you’ll-“
-Sounds of voices-
“Get off me!Please!She’ll come for us!She knows!FROM HER THERES IS NO ESCAPE!”
“Michael,calm down!”
“NO,YOU DONT-“
“Okay-He needs to rest,take him to his room.”
“No!Please!You fucker!!You don’t know what you’ve done!”
2003/02/6 Thursday 14:34 Session 6 -NOTES- •Patient showed signs of Paranoia/Delusions and extremely violent behaviour. •Patient is unwilling to engage in deep conversation •Hallucinations and anxiety are present in patient •Patient has verbal triggers Comment
•I suggest that we test for schizophrenia,anxiety and I will be continuing to monitor the patient.HES showing obvious signs of PTSD.Based on his experiences this is not something that has taken me by surprise. Trial is still ongoing,patient had a deep relationship with -REDACTED-.
He seems to be having so called “Messiah” delusions,he thinks that a god/goddess/higher power is after him/he is a god or a messiah. Will be under monitoring for now on. //Dr.1van
111.555(68^
2/0/0/3/0/2/6/4/1/4/3/4 N3m1XssIz7* From her,there is no escape. GUILTY GUILTY GUILTY E*71AGtgg6 V1,C67O M-22ichk33 GUILTY GUILTY GUILTY GUILTY From her,there is no escape. Ex ea non est effugium Ex ea non est effugium Reus Reus Reus Aut Vincere Aut Mori Reus Mori
2024.05.17 07:43 CherryLemxn NMom is happy I'm not getting a response from a summer internship because she "gets more time with (her) baby!" and I'm about done
Present story vs background is indicated with bold fond. Background isn't necessary for the story, I think I just needed a vent.
TLDR: My NMom insists I'm ruining her summer when I try and get a job/internship over summers, to the point she's currently celebrating that I haven't gotten a message back from a company that reached out about scheduling an interview.
Background: Ever since I went off to college (an 8 hour drive away, much to her dismay and protest), my mother has had an obsession with convincing me to spend every possible day off from school back home. Offering to book a flight for a 3 day weekend, begging me to fly home for Easter (a holiday we don't celebrate), and offering to drive up just for a weekend to say hi. Luckily, my dad has a head on his shoulders and has convinced her out of visiting or booking spontaneous flight tickets for me to come home, and has helped reenforced my boundaries when she tries to push them.
The one thing I have not been able to escape is summers with her. She is miserable to live with. My first summer after college, I couldn't find an "acceptable" enough reason (to her standards) to stay at the dorms over break. I secured a full-time hosting job as income to fund myself during the school year, since I'm not able to handle a job and schooling at one time. At least, that's what I told her was the only reason, since "I want to be away from you as often as possible" is a pretty bad thing to say to someone's face. My mother insisted when she found out about my job search that it was unnecessary.
"You don't need the money - we pay for your school and your bills and everything!" True, but I want my own income for fun moneyand so i can start saving to become self sufficient as soon as possible
"Your siblings will miss spending time with you!" They didn't text me the entire time I was away at college. I think being able to have dinners with me is enough for them.
"We can't go on any vacations!" I can request off!Plus, who says I want to go on a miserable vacation with you anyway?
My dad convinced her that encouraging my independence is good and I made it through the summer with excessive complaints about how I'm ruining our chance to go on vacation (she never tried to schedule anything, even when I told her at her complaints that if she told me a date I'd request off at that exact moment), and how she never got any time with me (I was working maximum 40 hours a week at different times of the day on different days, she doesn't work so she was home when I was and never attempted to make plans.)
The second summer I got an internship at a Big Game Company. Interning for a semester is a requirement for graduating at my school, so she couldn't complain that I was ruining summer for no reason. Plus, the Big Game Company is Big Enough that she could brag about me to her friends! I tried to intern from my college dorm over the summer, but sadly the company could only employ me from my home state, even with a remote internship. She spent the entire summer whining that we couldn't go on vacations because I had to "drag work with me," so we didn't go on vacations. I'd like to clarify this was still possible, and even encouraged by my managers for me to take a few days off, but my mother insisted it was impossible and summer-ruining.
Present times: Since April. I had no responses or interviews on any internships I applied to (including many outside of the industry I'm trying to get into), and I ultimately ended up moving back home. My mother was aware of me searching for internships and during the move out process celebrated the fact I was coming home extensively. Comments such as "My baby is coming home! I get her all to myself for four months!", "I can't wait to actually plan a vacation! It's been years!" (She went to Italy by herself last year and South America with my siblings in December, as well as a few smaller trips in the US).
During move out, I got my only rejection email.... from the internship I genuinely thought I had a good chance with, and was genuinely excited at the prospect of getting. She knew this. While my dad apologized and offered a hug, my mom's first comment was "I know you're bummed, but think about how great it'll be spending the summer together!"
It's been two weeks living at home now. It's not great. I'm miserable, and have been applying to internships when I see any I have a slim chance with. Yesterday (5/15), I submitted an application to a position that has actual interest to me and got a response in 19 minutes from the company requesting a few times I could meet for an interview. It happens to be in the same industry my dad worked in for as long as I've been alive, so I emerged from my room to tell him. This is where I fucked up and told him... in front of my mom. My dad's excitement, while appreciated, did nothing to hide the sulking my mother did. She was visibly angry to hear that the internship is 11.5hrs away from home.
I responded to the company's message quickly, but unfortunately haven't heard back about the scheduling of the interview (about 36hrs later). I'll admit I'm probably just overly excited at the prospect of getting out of this godforsaken house combined with the incredibly quick response to my application, and I'm probably expecting an answer too quickly. I mentioned to my dad that I hadn't gotten a message back yet. My mother's response?
Immediately screaming "YAYYY I GET TO KEEP MY BABY FOR THE ENTIRE SUMMER!!!!!"
I gave her the most cut-a-bitch look I possibly could. She refocused on her pizza. I have begun reflecting on her "me me me" attitude. How... obsessive she is with me. How she still thinks I am this doll for her to keep and bring out of the house and brag about when convenient. How she still asks me every time that post-college careers come up how I'm planning on finding a job close to the place my parents are looking to retire. How they'd be willing to pay to build a house for me on the property they want to buy (just... what in the excessive). That maybe, just maybe, her "jokes" about having me transfer to the community college back home (nothing against CC, I go to a private university currently and she regularly implies CC is below me or my siblings because I'm already in a private university) aren't jokes.
I've always known she was controlling, that's why I went to college so far away, against every insistence of her from when I was 12 and could vocalize that I wanted out. I think I'm just done. I didn't consider staying at the dorms over the summer because they're putting four people to a room for triple the price, and I know I'll have to pay for it out of pocket (mother would never support "her baby" moving out for "no reason"), but I'm considering it just to get out if I don't end up hearing back from this internship or the other 10 I applied to yesterday. I'm just done. The financial support of relying on them is starting to outweigh the negatives of being near them.
submitted by CherryLemxn to raisedbynarcissists [link] [comments]
TLDR: My NMom insists I'm ruining her summer when I try and get a job/internship over summers, to the point she's currently celebrating that I haven't gotten a message back from a company that reached out about scheduling an interview.
Background: Ever since I went off to college (an 8 hour drive away, much to her dismay and protest), my mother has had an obsession with convincing me to spend every possible day off from school back home. Offering to book a flight for a 3 day weekend, begging me to fly home for Easter (a holiday we don't celebrate), and offering to drive up just for a weekend to say hi. Luckily, my dad has a head on his shoulders and has convinced her out of visiting or booking spontaneous flight tickets for me to come home, and has helped reenforced my boundaries when she tries to push them.
The one thing I have not been able to escape is summers with her. She is miserable to live with. My first summer after college, I couldn't find an "acceptable" enough reason (to her standards) to stay at the dorms over break. I secured a full-time hosting job as income to fund myself during the school year, since I'm not able to handle a job and schooling at one time. At least, that's what I told her was the only reason, since "I want to be away from you as often as possible" is a pretty bad thing to say to someone's face. My mother insisted when she found out about my job search that it was unnecessary.
"You don't need the money - we pay for your school and your bills and everything!" True, but I want my own income for fun money
"Your siblings will miss spending time with you!" They didn't text me the entire time I was away at college. I think being able to have dinners with me is enough for them.
"We can't go on any vacations!" I can request off!
My dad convinced her that encouraging my independence is good and I made it through the summer with excessive complaints about how I'm ruining our chance to go on vacation (she never tried to schedule anything, even when I told her at her complaints that if she told me a date I'd request off at that exact moment), and how she never got any time with me (I was working maximum 40 hours a week at different times of the day on different days, she doesn't work so she was home when I was and never attempted to make plans.)
The second summer I got an internship at a Big Game Company. Interning for a semester is a requirement for graduating at my school, so she couldn't complain that I was ruining summer for no reason. Plus, the Big Game Company is Big Enough that she could brag about me to her friends! I tried to intern from my college dorm over the summer, but sadly the company could only employ me from my home state, even with a remote internship. She spent the entire summer whining that we couldn't go on vacations because I had to "drag work with me," so we didn't go on vacations. I'd like to clarify this was still possible, and even encouraged by my managers for me to take a few days off, but my mother insisted it was impossible and summer-ruining.
Present times: Since April. I had no responses or interviews on any internships I applied to (including many outside of the industry I'm trying to get into), and I ultimately ended up moving back home. My mother was aware of me searching for internships and during the move out process celebrated the fact I was coming home extensively. Comments such as "My baby is coming home! I get her all to myself for four months!", "I can't wait to actually plan a vacation! It's been years!" (She went to Italy by herself last year and South America with my siblings in December, as well as a few smaller trips in the US).
During move out, I got my only rejection email.... from the internship I genuinely thought I had a good chance with, and was genuinely excited at the prospect of getting. She knew this. While my dad apologized and offered a hug, my mom's first comment was "I know you're bummed, but think about how great it'll be spending the summer together!"
It's been two weeks living at home now. It's not great. I'm miserable, and have been applying to internships when I see any I have a slim chance with. Yesterday (5/15), I submitted an application to a position that has actual interest to me and got a response in 19 minutes from the company requesting a few times I could meet for an interview. It happens to be in the same industry my dad worked in for as long as I've been alive, so I emerged from my room to tell him. This is where I fucked up and told him... in front of my mom. My dad's excitement, while appreciated, did nothing to hide the sulking my mother did. She was visibly angry to hear that the internship is 11.5hrs away from home.
I responded to the company's message quickly, but unfortunately haven't heard back about the scheduling of the interview (about 36hrs later). I'll admit I'm probably just overly excited at the prospect of getting out of this godforsaken house combined with the incredibly quick response to my application, and I'm probably expecting an answer too quickly. I mentioned to my dad that I hadn't gotten a message back yet. My mother's response?
Immediately screaming "YAYYY I GET TO KEEP MY BABY FOR THE ENTIRE SUMMER!!!!!"
I gave her the most cut-a-bitch look I possibly could. She refocused on her pizza. I have begun reflecting on her "me me me" attitude. How... obsessive she is with me. How she still thinks I am this doll for her to keep and bring out of the house and brag about when convenient. How she still asks me every time that post-college careers come up how I'm planning on finding a job close to the place my parents are looking to retire. How they'd be willing to pay to build a house for me on the property they want to buy (just... what in the excessive). That maybe, just maybe, her "jokes" about having me transfer to the community college back home (nothing against CC, I go to a private university currently and she regularly implies CC is below me or my siblings because I'm already in a private university) aren't jokes.
I've always known she was controlling, that's why I went to college so far away, against every insistence of her from when I was 12 and could vocalize that I wanted out. I think I'm just done. I didn't consider staying at the dorms over the summer because they're putting four people to a room for triple the price, and I know I'll have to pay for it out of pocket (mother would never support "her baby" moving out for "no reason"), but I'm considering it just to get out if I don't end up hearing back from this internship or the other 10 I applied to yesterday. I'm just done. The financial support of relying on them is starting to outweigh the negatives of being near them.
2024.05.17 07:34 mertzie_plays I am questioning everything - marriage issue - getting divorced - REALLY LONG
I hate to make really long posts, but i think without context, the weight of my questions will not make sense. If you don't want to read the whole thing, I understand, but PLEASE don't comment if you are only going to read the last 4 sentences...
Pre 2008, She was kind of a gothic girl, attempting to recover from some questionable teenage choices. Was forced to go to Catholic school and mass until she was in HS, at which point she went to a public school and got pretty crazy. She had vaguely religious beliefs and morels (for the most part) but was 100% non practicing.
I was NOT religious growing up "at all". My dad was a brutal SOB, that was verbally and occasionally physically abusive to everything in his path. I did spend 6 months living with my sister and we went to "super church bible study service" on Saturdays. As I got older I started to have a non denominational blind faith.
We meet in 2005. By 2008 marriage was on the table and even though we had been 100% non practicing, she insisted that we get married in the catholic church. I had no issues with it. We did the classes, attended mass, and got married. Almost immediately after the honeymoon... she decided that she didn't really like going to a catholic church and after a little church shopping, we stopped going to any church.
Early 15 - 6 years married, IMO, everything in our lives up to this point has been going well. Of course we had some bumps in the road, but nothing major and no lasting issues. Now, she is pregnant and about to pop with out first child.
After my son is born she got very weird. For one... she stopped wanting to have sex, and previously that was a very common way for us to bond. I thought she may be having some PPDepression and thought nothing much of it. She took to parenting a baby really well, no issues there. Around the one year mark she started going out with "work friends", not coming home till midnight or 2am. She had NEVER done anything like this before, and I my mind started to wonder and wander....
2016, She came home drunk after a night of hanging out with "work friends". Now, keep in mind, usually she would come home half intoxicated and either jump into the shower or go straight to bed... but this night she came home and wanted to have sex (with protection).
And she is pregnant again.
Sex again goes full stop and she did not manage this pregnancy as good as the first. With our son or the unborn, but our relationship was a dumpster fire.... I change jobs so to could work normal hours and be more available for my son and her. Baby girl is born.
Despite a near immaculate conception, I was hoping a second child would make her happier... It didn't. It made it worse. Everything in our relationship is still BAD. She was so distant that I questioned if the girl was even mine. All the circumstances combined... secretly did a paternity test and the girl was/is mine. That put my mind somewhat at ease, but things were still rough... but about to get worse.
2017, Even though our marriage didn't feel like a marriage anymore, we were not outright fighting a lot. She was just very distant and had this "ora" of hate towards me. This was beginning of the inevitable end. She tells me that she can't stand sleeping in the same bed as me anymore.... considering she was only like 4 months post birth, and still nursing, it was stupid for here to go downstairs and sleep on the couch. So being the nice guy... I did.
Days turned into weeks, and I was really starting to struggle with the situation as a whole. But I kept giving her space... talking with her when she felt up to it. Weeks turned into months. The couch turned into a bed... in the basement. Months turned into years... but i don't want to get ahead of myself.
Over 17/18 she started getting very dark. Like I could see that she was having a psychotic break. I talked with her parents and they said she was diagnosed bipolar as a tween. I tried to be supportive. I tried getting her to go to counseling, with me, without me, anywhere, anyhow... she refused. We were still having regular conversations after the kids went to bed... where she mostly went over everything I had ever done wrong... beating me into the ground... I would apologize over and over. Sometimes it was "leaving the seat up that morning"... sometimes it was for some stupid thing I did 5 years prior.
Note, during our marriage, I never drank, did drugs, gambled, cheated, etc. I wasn't abusive in any way; quite the opposite actually, I was and in some ways still am very passive and let people walk all over me because I am so viscerally opposed to turning into my dad, that I tend to tolerate being mis treated rather than reacting to it.
SO over time, these discussions became less frequent but more toxic. They were more of an opportunity for her to verbally attack me for all kinds of things.. even things that were not real... or did not happen the way she remembers. She told me she didn't ever really love me, and that she lied, and she should have never married me, etc... Like really hateful stuff. I was seeing a counselor at this point because this was destroying me. I started thinking about divorce, but I kept hoping she would pull through. The conversations eventually stopped and we were just two disconnected people living in the same house.
As the kids started to grow into toddlers, she started to show anger towards them. Not like in daily life, but anytime they did something wrong. Now, admittedly, I am HYPER sensitive to this because of my childhood. She was becoming verbally abusive to them. Maybe not with the words chosen, but she would outright SCREAM at them... like "loose her shit, scream at them" for 5 minutes. It got to the point I was recording it.
After about 5 HUGE screaming fights with me about it... (I was threatening to call CPS on her and divorce her), she broke down and accepted that she was doing wrong.
Over the next few months, she started wanting to got to church. She was screaming at the kids less. While me and her were still just room mates, she seemed to be healing. As months turned into years, she continued to treat the kids better, and at this point we were going to church fairly regularly as a family. You would think this is where things get better... and you'd be wrong.
By 2021, she had dove 1000% into religion. And only practices the most extreme parts of almost every Christian based religion. No Pork, kosher only, All holidays are pagan. Mothers day, fathers day, birthdays, pagan. Christmas and easter are not guaranteed correct dates, pagan. Speaking in tongues... like anything that you can think of that a non Christian would call crazy... she does that.
Meanwhile she has become more and more toxic towards me. From not letting me spend time with the kids alone; to yelling at me, calling me a liar, evil, toxic, etc... even in front of our kids.
About 6 months ago her delusions skyrocketed. Behind closed doors, she believes that she is a prophetess. And she is blaming me for things that never happened. One example, she came running into the room, yelling at me "because I just called him stupid".... me and my son looked at each other, like what the heck is she talking about? I never called him stupid. We were talking about something silly he saw in a video. I told him "that's kinda stupid, don't ever do anything like that". A specific example... tonight I am tucking my daughter in... after out hugs and kisses, I am walking out and stumbling over things on the floor... I say to her "honey, you should focus on cleaning in here this weekend, the mess is getting a bit ridiculous". She smiles, throws me the "i love you sign" and says, "I know dad, I will".... and before my daughter could even finish her words, my wife is yelling from another room "how dare you call her ridiculous?". She comes trudging into the room, and shake my head and retreat back to my basement... she follows me the entire way, yelling at me for being rede and disrespectful to her daughter. Telling me that she will stand up for her daughter.... the entire way back to the basement.. , for something that didn't even happen.
But I digress, this kind of stuff has been happening more regularly. About 3 months ago, I put cameras up in the common areas of our house, because I am honestly scared that she is going to accuse me of doing or saying something that never happened. Something that she could scream from the roof tops. Something she could say in front to a police officer or a judge to get a divorce and full custody. I have used these cameras and recordings to prove to her, on several occasions, that she is wrong about a specific situation or downright delusional with others. And while she initially seemed receptive to "being called out", anymore she finds any proven inaccuracies to simply be an attack on her.
I am getting verbally assaulted over something that didn't happen... Shortly later, I pull the video and PROVE that she is wrong about it, and she STILL denies it or downplays it... I get angry... then that turns into her claiming that I am being verbally abusive TO HER!
This week, I told her that I am actively filing for divorce - not as a threat, but because I am actively working with an attorney, gathering the paperwork, and I am divorcing her.
Expecting her to attempt to reconcile, she leaves me a one page letter that has me question her sanity. I write her a 5 page letter in response, I clipped the last page, it is all text but NSFW.
I am using an imgur link of the letter and response, as posting pics is questionable in the rules. https://imgur.com/a/n6pJOBv
I guess my main question is: WHAT THE HECK am I doing, is she doing, are we doing... ? Am I okay or justified in getting a divorce? Should I feel bad about wanting to get full custody? Could her issues be a mental disorder or should I just "chalk it up" to religious freedom? I am questioning MY faith completely because of her actions justified by her faith. - How am I supposed to get past this?
Honestly, I am not even sure what to ask... I think I am just looking for approval or understanding... I would appreciate any constructive input.
submitted by mertzie_plays to Christianity [link] [comments]
Pre 2008, She was kind of a gothic girl, attempting to recover from some questionable teenage choices. Was forced to go to Catholic school and mass until she was in HS, at which point she went to a public school and got pretty crazy. She had vaguely religious beliefs and morels (for the most part) but was 100% non practicing.
I was NOT religious growing up "at all". My dad was a brutal SOB, that was verbally and occasionally physically abusive to everything in his path. I did spend 6 months living with my sister and we went to "super church bible study service" on Saturdays. As I got older I started to have a non denominational blind faith.
We meet in 2005. By 2008 marriage was on the table and even though we had been 100% non practicing, she insisted that we get married in the catholic church. I had no issues with it. We did the classes, attended mass, and got married. Almost immediately after the honeymoon... she decided that she didn't really like going to a catholic church and after a little church shopping, we stopped going to any church.
Early 15 - 6 years married, IMO, everything in our lives up to this point has been going well. Of course we had some bumps in the road, but nothing major and no lasting issues. Now, she is pregnant and about to pop with out first child.
After my son is born she got very weird. For one... she stopped wanting to have sex, and previously that was a very common way for us to bond. I thought she may be having some PPDepression and thought nothing much of it. She took to parenting a baby really well, no issues there. Around the one year mark she started going out with "work friends", not coming home till midnight or 2am. She had NEVER done anything like this before, and I my mind started to wonder and wander....
2016, She came home drunk after a night of hanging out with "work friends". Now, keep in mind, usually she would come home half intoxicated and either jump into the shower or go straight to bed... but this night she came home and wanted to have sex (with protection).
And she is pregnant again.
Sex again goes full stop and she did not manage this pregnancy as good as the first. With our son or the unborn, but our relationship was a dumpster fire.... I change jobs so to could work normal hours and be more available for my son and her. Baby girl is born.
Despite a near immaculate conception, I was hoping a second child would make her happier... It didn't. It made it worse. Everything in our relationship is still BAD. She was so distant that I questioned if the girl was even mine. All the circumstances combined... secretly did a paternity test and the girl was/is mine. That put my mind somewhat at ease, but things were still rough... but about to get worse.
2017, Even though our marriage didn't feel like a marriage anymore, we were not outright fighting a lot. She was just very distant and had this "ora" of hate towards me. This was beginning of the inevitable end. She tells me that she can't stand sleeping in the same bed as me anymore.... considering she was only like 4 months post birth, and still nursing, it was stupid for here to go downstairs and sleep on the couch. So being the nice guy... I did.
Days turned into weeks, and I was really starting to struggle with the situation as a whole. But I kept giving her space... talking with her when she felt up to it. Weeks turned into months. The couch turned into a bed... in the basement. Months turned into years... but i don't want to get ahead of myself.
Over 17/18 she started getting very dark. Like I could see that she was having a psychotic break. I talked with her parents and they said she was diagnosed bipolar as a tween. I tried to be supportive. I tried getting her to go to counseling, with me, without me, anywhere, anyhow... she refused. We were still having regular conversations after the kids went to bed... where she mostly went over everything I had ever done wrong... beating me into the ground... I would apologize over and over. Sometimes it was "leaving the seat up that morning"... sometimes it was for some stupid thing I did 5 years prior.
Note, during our marriage, I never drank, did drugs, gambled, cheated, etc. I wasn't abusive in any way; quite the opposite actually, I was and in some ways still am very passive and let people walk all over me because I am so viscerally opposed to turning into my dad, that I tend to tolerate being mis treated rather than reacting to it.
SO over time, these discussions became less frequent but more toxic. They were more of an opportunity for her to verbally attack me for all kinds of things.. even things that were not real... or did not happen the way she remembers. She told me she didn't ever really love me, and that she lied, and she should have never married me, etc... Like really hateful stuff. I was seeing a counselor at this point because this was destroying me. I started thinking about divorce, but I kept hoping she would pull through. The conversations eventually stopped and we were just two disconnected people living in the same house.
As the kids started to grow into toddlers, she started to show anger towards them. Not like in daily life, but anytime they did something wrong. Now, admittedly, I am HYPER sensitive to this because of my childhood. She was becoming verbally abusive to them. Maybe not with the words chosen, but she would outright SCREAM at them... like "loose her shit, scream at them" for 5 minutes. It got to the point I was recording it.
After about 5 HUGE screaming fights with me about it... (I was threatening to call CPS on her and divorce her), she broke down and accepted that she was doing wrong.
Over the next few months, she started wanting to got to church. She was screaming at the kids less. While me and her were still just room mates, she seemed to be healing. As months turned into years, she continued to treat the kids better, and at this point we were going to church fairly regularly as a family. You would think this is where things get better... and you'd be wrong.
By 2021, she had dove 1000% into religion. And only practices the most extreme parts of almost every Christian based religion. No Pork, kosher only, All holidays are pagan. Mothers day, fathers day, birthdays, pagan. Christmas and easter are not guaranteed correct dates, pagan. Speaking in tongues... like anything that you can think of that a non Christian would call crazy... she does that.
Meanwhile she has become more and more toxic towards me. From not letting me spend time with the kids alone; to yelling at me, calling me a liar, evil, toxic, etc... even in front of our kids.
About 6 months ago her delusions skyrocketed. Behind closed doors, she believes that she is a prophetess. And she is blaming me for things that never happened. One example, she came running into the room, yelling at me "because I just called him stupid".... me and my son looked at each other, like what the heck is she talking about? I never called him stupid. We were talking about something silly he saw in a video. I told him "that's kinda stupid, don't ever do anything like that". A specific example... tonight I am tucking my daughter in... after out hugs and kisses, I am walking out and stumbling over things on the floor... I say to her "honey, you should focus on cleaning in here this weekend, the mess is getting a bit ridiculous". She smiles, throws me the "i love you sign" and says, "I know dad, I will".... and before my daughter could even finish her words, my wife is yelling from another room "how dare you call her ridiculous?". She comes trudging into the room, and shake my head and retreat back to my basement... she follows me the entire way, yelling at me for being rede and disrespectful to her daughter. Telling me that she will stand up for her daughter.... the entire way back to the basement.. , for something that didn't even happen.
But I digress, this kind of stuff has been happening more regularly. About 3 months ago, I put cameras up in the common areas of our house, because I am honestly scared that she is going to accuse me of doing or saying something that never happened. Something that she could scream from the roof tops. Something she could say in front to a police officer or a judge to get a divorce and full custody. I have used these cameras and recordings to prove to her, on several occasions, that she is wrong about a specific situation or downright delusional with others. And while she initially seemed receptive to "being called out", anymore she finds any proven inaccuracies to simply be an attack on her.
I am getting verbally assaulted over something that didn't happen... Shortly later, I pull the video and PROVE that she is wrong about it, and she STILL denies it or downplays it... I get angry... then that turns into her claiming that I am being verbally abusive TO HER!
This week, I told her that I am actively filing for divorce - not as a threat, but because I am actively working with an attorney, gathering the paperwork, and I am divorcing her.
Expecting her to attempt to reconcile, she leaves me a one page letter that has me question her sanity. I write her a 5 page letter in response, I clipped the last page, it is all text but NSFW.
I am using an imgur link of the letter and response, as posting pics is questionable in the rules. https://imgur.com/a/n6pJOBv
I guess my main question is: WHAT THE HECK am I doing, is she doing, are we doing... ? Am I okay or justified in getting a divorce? Should I feel bad about wanting to get full custody? Could her issues be a mental disorder or should I just "chalk it up" to religious freedom? I am questioning MY faith completely because of her actions justified by her faith. - How am I supposed to get past this?
Honestly, I am not even sure what to ask... I think I am just looking for approval or understanding... I would appreciate any constructive input.
2024.05.17 07:27 yoooo12347 The keys in the movie Split (2017) - Huge plothole
When Casey is on the computer watching the videos of Kevin's personalities, Barry's video ends with him going out and he grabs keys off the rack. This was a clue for Casey to find out where the keys were on the rack (they were covered by a beanie on top of them). This allows her to escape the locked room because she has the keys.
However this makes no sense. How was Barry (or whatever personality was in control at the time), able to leave that locked room hours before without the keys that Casey later needed to get out herself????? He is shown out and about in the city, getting flowers, getting on the subway, swapping between different personalities, but how was he able to exit that locked room without the keys and then keep that room locked without the keys?????
This is a major plothole that I'm blown away no one has commented on and is just completely overlooked in any discussion of the film.
submitted by yoooo12347 to movies [link] [comments]
However this makes no sense. How was Barry (or whatever personality was in control at the time), able to leave that locked room hours before without the keys that Casey later needed to get out herself????? He is shown out and about in the city, getting flowers, getting on the subway, swapping between different personalities, but how was he able to exit that locked room without the keys and then keep that room locked without the keys?????
This is a major plothole that I'm blown away no one has commented on and is just completely overlooked in any discussion of the film.